#there are so many things wrong with her <3

[enwoso]

ON EDGE - ella toone

a little bit suggestive content!

ella was on edge. she had been a nervous reck all week, ever since she found out that this was the weekend that she was going to be meeting your family for the first time. she was trying to downplay it by saying that she wasn't nervous but you could see straight through that false persona she was acting out.

you had met ella's family, a few months into you and ella dating — it being after one of the derby games and considering they lived in manchester and the pair of you were playing for united well let's just say you had clicked very fast.

you were nervous the first time you met her family — it was a normal thing so you totally understood why she was acting the way she was.

you had the job all week of constantly assuring ella that she had nothing to worry about, your parents had heard all about ella — they felt as if they already knew everything about the brunette without even fully meeting the girl properly.

hearing the way you talk about the girl and how much adored her, and all the small little cute things ella would do for you to make you feel like the most special girl in the world. they had heard it all and to point out the obvious your whole family were also football fans so at least you would all have something to talk about over dinner.

your also had two brothers, tommy who was the oldest out the three of you by 2 years always trying to take the role of being the boss and then there was your younger brother lewis who had just turned 19 and behind you was probably the biggest football fan in the family.

your brothers both didn't and refused to believe you at first when you said that you were signing for united they thought you were just playing into the silly rumours that the transfer pages were spreading about you at the time.

even after the multiple instagram posts on the united's official instagram page with you being in the official kit they for some reason wouldn't believe you. you knew they were just doing it to wind you up and it was times like those that made you really wish you were an only child.

your mum and dad — specifically your mum who you were adamant was more excited to finally meet ella in person then she was to see her own daughter.

ever since you let it slip that you had a girlfriend over the phone just a few weeks into your relationship with ella, you had been bombarded with messages from both parents asking when they would finally meet her in person.

you on the other hand were excited for your two worlds to finally meet not having seen your parents in 3 months since they were last able to find the time to get down to manchester to watch you play as they lived in london

which did make it difficult for them to watch but you knew they were always your biggest supporter weather they were in attendance or not.

you had been waiting for this day to come for what felt like years having to reschedule many times due to last minutes meetings, training camps, match days or press days it had become quite difficult to even set out a day and part of you at one point was convinced it would never happen.

you wanted your parents to meet ella properly and not on the side of a pitch in the porting rain while you both looked tired and longed for nothing but a warm shower.

so when the idea of your family finding a few spare days where they were able to come up and stay with you and your beloved girlfriend and even the plus side of watching you play again in person seemed like the perfect way.

after just getting out of the shower, you were drying your hair as the door of your shared room flung open as ella waltzed in and you could tell her mind was racing.

"what's wrong, darling?" you asked turning the hair dryer off, and swinging around in the vanity chair to face ella who had flopped down on the bed face first, letting a huge dramatic sigh out.

"nothin'" she mumbled out, it being blurred out by the fact she was talking into the bed sheets. a small giggle left your lips at the sight of her dramatics.

"love c'mon, your gonna be fine!" you said moving the chair closer to the bed, pulling at her ankles to pull ella down the bed as she groaned trying to move back up the bed.

ella turned over onto her back, "i am fine, i'm cool, calm and collected!" she sat up and flashed you a smile before crashing back into the sheets her hands going up to cover her face, a loud groan coming from her as she did so.

"so which one was that cool, calm or collected?" you joked earning yourself a roll of the eyes from the brunette as you moved off the chair and onto your shared bed lying down next to ella.

a big huff was heard from beside you as her hands dropped from her face and turned her head to you, "i've decided i can't meet your parents" ella says talking quicker then you can comprehend what she is actually saying — here we go again.

"what? why this time?" you ask, this being the hundredth time it felt that she was trying to get out of meeting your family.

"i just can't, i'll just say up here and you can tell them i'm-" footballers these days not only dramatic on the pitch but even more dramatic off the pitch and over the smallest of things ever.

you cut her off, "els! baby you'll be fine they love you already and they haven't even met you properly, plus i don't think my mum will be happy if she turns up and your not here with me — she more excited to see you then she is me!" you told her as a small smile crept onto her face.

"she is?" she asks, seeming surprised by you saying that.

"yes! every message i get from her always involves your name too — how are you and ella, don't forget to tell ella i said hi all that jazz, half the time she doesn’t even ask about me!" you said telling her only a few of the messages your received on the daily from your mum.

it sometimes amazes you how she can be so calm over playing a match in front of thousands of people but then can go to acting like a scared child over meeting your parents.

"oh.." she mumbled that seemingly put some ease to her nerves.

a silence crept over the two of you as your wrapped your arm over ella's waist, "what?" you asked feeling ella's eyes staring at you.

"nothin’ you just look pretty" she shook her head, rolling over so that she hovered over you looking at you with nothing but adoration even if your hair was half dry and half wet in ella's eyes you always looked beautiful.

a small giggle left your lips as you hummed in response your eyebrows lifting a little, "wait a second" ella said still hovering over you this time a little closer to your face.

"why?"

"i just need-" she cut herself off by closing the distance between the two of you, pressing you a little deeper into the white sheets as her lips locked with yours delivering a bruisingly passionate kiss. "-to do this" the brunette breathed out finishing her sentence while giving you a moment to catch your breathe.

just as her hand gripped your jaw and tugged your mouth to meet hers again. you couldn't help but moan into her mouth as she pressed her body closer to yours her knee pressing teasingly into you as she slipped her tongue in and swirled it around.

the midfielder knowing exactly how to rile you up as she sucked down hard on your bottom lip as your head pressed into the bed further with a beefy whine.

not even giving you a moment to process anything she pulled away and lips instead began to move down towards your neck pressing small and soft kisses as she did so.

her affections were clearly needy and messy as her fingers snuck up the inside of your t-shirt, her strong hands flattening against the bare skin and pushing you harder into the bed so she felt your and contract and tense under her every touch.

"els-" you mumbled out against her lips pulling away from her as best you could, "i need to finish getting ready" you said as ella pulled away resting her head on your shoulder.

"can we not just stay like this" she asks as she wraps her arms around your waist holding you tight as she places a small kiss behind your ear.

"as much as i would love too, me and you both know we can't" you smile kissing her forehead as she lifts up off you as you stood up to go back to drying your hair before it became too frizzy knowing it wouldn't be long until your parents and brothers would be here.

"wait, love-" ella began but before you even gave her a chance to get her worry out you stopped her.

"love, stop stressing. i'm not feeding you to the lions i'm gonna be there with you, holding your hand if you want me too!" you teased reaching over to squeeze her knee in reassurance as you got back to doing what you were previously doing beforehand.

as ella whispered that she was going to watch tv downstairs, placing a kiss to your cheek before leaving you to get ready in peace.

after getting ready you went downstairs to find ella sat on the couch her leg bouncing up and down, flinching at any sudden movement thinking it was the sound of the door.

when there was a knock at the door, she jumped up following you to the door like a little lost puppy

"oh thank god this is your house!" your brother sighed with relief walking straight into your home, not saying hello to you but instead making sure to introduce themselves to your girlfriend — at this point you were sure they had only come to see her. you could leave in that moment and they probably wouldn't even notice.

"hi tommy!" you said blankly, watching as he walked down your hallway throwing his arm up at an attempt to wave, you turning your attention to your parents and younger brother who had his headphones in looking down at his phone probably not even realising that you had opened the door.

moving out the way for your parents to be able to walk in the door with there luggage, which you just moved to one side. "hi mum" you smiled, wrapping your arms around her.

"oh my little girl, you look so grown up! manchester must be treating you well!" her smile couldn't get any bigger seeing her daughter follow her dreams and to be living happy was truly beautiful to her.

"hi dad!" you greeted him, hugging him too as your mum went over and engulfed ella into a big hug and said her hellos too.

"hi buttercup" he said, the old nickname which he gave you when you were little, only because you had a little patch in your garden back in london which used to grow buttercups and when you were little you would always pick them and bring them to mainly your dad but also your mum. so your dad gave you the nickname and ever since it had just stuck.

you rolled your eyes turning around knowing ella would tease you about the nickname your family had for you, "don't even" you pointed to her as ella raised her hands in defence as she tried her best not to laugh.

you went and said your hellos to your younger brother, lewis who had now realised that you were stood in front of him and the two of you caught up a little alongside tommy who had finished raiding you kitchen cupboards for now, and finally came over to say hello as it gave you a chance to find the in and outs of what they had been doing since the last time you saw them as ella spoke with your parents.

"you make our little buttercup so happy, she's told us all about you!" you heard your dad say as he had now made himself comfy in your living room.

"only good things i hope, but i definitely got lucky!" ella said sitting down opposite your mum and dad, looking over at you a big grin appearing on her face as you walked into the room.

she did believe that she got lucky and she had never been the one to believe in 'the one' or 'soulmates' or anything like that but she definitely believed that you and her were soulmates.

you sat down next to ella your arm wrapping around her shoulders pulling her closer to you. your brothers having been left to their own devices in your kitchen, more than likely raiding your cupboards after guilt tripping you: "but y/n it was such a long journey!" in there stupid sappy voice.

"so ella-" your dad began however was cut off by your two brothers coming in arms filled with pretty much every snack they could of possibly of found in your kitchen.

"seriously!" you had cut your dad off, as your two brothers sat on the couch next to your parents, releasing the snacks from their arms. "your not very good at hiding the crisps by the way" lewis smiled, your favourite crisps that you had been saving for a cheat day in his arms.

"i actually hate you- but anyways this is my older brother tommy.." you pointed out to the boy who already had his mouth filled with popcorn as he smiled over to ella, a little hi and wave coming from him.

"and my annoying little brother lewis" you smiled sarcastically towards lewis who shrugged digging into your crisps.

"ella, you could have done so much better than the mug that is my sister!" lewis said, receiving a flap to the back of his head by your dad as you rolled your eyes at your brother, ella just laughing along with the joke.

"she's not all that bad" ella joked, receiving a small dig to the ribs from your as she held onto her side a whisper of an ow coming from the brunette.

the next hour was spent, talking as your mum and dad got to know ella better - even though they didn’t think that was possible because of how much you had already told them over the phone. but with that came with the embarrassing story’s from your childhood and your brothers winding you up.

with that came along the football talk which went on for hours but something you didn’t mind talking about at least it saved you from any more embarrassing stories being told but nevertheless your smile never left your face, as watching your girlfriend interact with your family and get along with so well was all you could ask for in life.

“have you come to help or be a distraction?” ella giggled as she was helping your mum dish up the dinner you had prepared earlier, as you had wandered into the kitchen wrapping your arms around the ella’s waist.

“i always help!” you sighed rested your head on her shoulder as your mum scoffed jokingly. “no the boys aren’t sharing the controller!” you frowned as both your mum and ella began to laugh.

“you didn’t really think you were gonna get a chance of playing when they haven’t played on fifa for the whole journey here!” your mum said looking at you with raised eyebrows as your frown deepened and a big huff coming from you.

“well i thought you know because it’s MY house-“ you began as ella coughed, “sorry OUR house, that they would give me a go on my games!” you complained as ella shook her head at your complaints.

“it’s okay you play on it tomorrow” ella reassured, turning to kiss you on the cheek. as you stayed clinged to your girlfriends waist, your hands wandering up her united hoodie she was wearing.

“i love you baby, but can you let go cause i can’t move” ella whispered in your ear, putting down the spoon she was using to dish up food on the counter and gently prying your hands away from her bare skin. pecking you quickly on the lips as ella moved to where your mum was at the other side of the kitchen.

“can you go and tell your brothers and your dad that dinner is ready?” you mum asked as you stood leaning against the counter dipping your finger in the pudding ella had been making.

mumbling a yes as you retreated from the kitchen, groaning internally at the thought of having to pull them away from the game - knowing it would take a while.

you walked into the living room, all three of them with controller, part of you was contemplating standing there and seeing how long it would actually take for them to notice you but then again you would most likely be stood there all night!

instead you flapped lewis on the head with a cushion, “what-“ he said screaming as tommy and your dad looked behind them where you were stood beginning to laugh. “you joking, i’ve just lost because of you!” as lewis threw the controller to the side of the couch.

“boo hoo, karma for not letting me play!” you sarcastically smiled, “dinners ready by the way” as you walked out the room hearing them complain to each other how the other actually won.

Your dad and brothers coming into the dining room almost seconds after you, as your brothers both looked at each, “did you cook?” they ask almost in sync as you nodded confused at what they were trying to get at.

"yeah, i'm no longer hungry" tommy says as you gasp as ella and your parents are stifling their laugh.

“i’ll have you find, i’m a very good cook. aren’t i els?” you said, actually taking offence to what your brothers said. looking over at ella for back up as she hesitantly agreed.

you scoffed, "you can all starve for all i care then!"

sitting down at the table next to ella, as small talk began inbetween eating the food you had made. the odd topic about life in manchester and what yours and ella’s future plans were — which when brought up you didn’t really know what to say.

of course you and ella had talked about eventually getting married, starting a family but right now everything was perfect. nothing needed to be added and nothing needed to change. everything was perfect.

“i hate to admit this but that was actually quite nice” tommy admitted, finishing his meal you had made after he insulted your cooked, lewis and your parents both agreeing.

ella already knew what you had made was going to be nice considering you make it quite often for the two of you — usually on your recovery days.

“told you!” you smile to yourself in satisfaction - there was no better feeling than proving someone wrong but the someone being your brothers made it that little bit sweeter.

“definitely better than the cake you made for mum on mother’s day when you put salt instead of sugar in it” you dad poked fun, as the memory came back to you. your smile disappearing as quick at it came.

“in my defence i was fifteen” you defended yourself as you could hear ella beside you giggling. it was generally a honest mistake because which idiot even decided to put the salt bowl and the sugar bowl next to each other? someone was bound to get them mixed up and it just happened to be you.

“here was me about to ask you to make me a cake for my birthday!” ella joked, her hand resting on your thigh as she leant into you laughing along side your family.

before you joined in. you couldn’t stay mad at ella. you two worlds had jelled just the way you hoped and that was enough, even if it meant you would be the butt of some jokes but you couldn’t win every battle.

liked by millieturner and 748,013 others

ellatoone meet the parents? completed it mate!

comments -

alessia finally got over your fear i see?

1h 103 likes     reply

-> ellatoone what? i wasn’t scared?

-> yourusername mhm keep telling yourself that baby

lewis91 hello ella👋🏻

24m 217 likes     reply

-> ellatoone you sound like a bot?

#woso #woso blurbs #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagine #ella toone #ella toone x reader #manchester united #manchester united women #my #muwomen #man utd women #england #lionesses #woso fanfics #woso one shot #enwoso

[skamenglishsubs]

Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 3, Episode 6

Out here in the real world it's been a week since the cliffhanger ending of episode 5 where Simon broke up with Wilhelm, but in-universe it's just the next day, and Wilhelm is being comforted by Felice.

Subtext: This entire episode is incredibly meta, there are so many times characters say things that reference earlier seasons or episodes, or the entire series as a whole. This is the first time, and Felice is saying what we're all thinking. IS IT REALLY OVER?!? 😱

Blink and you miss it: Felice gives Wilhelm her sunglasses and dries his tears so he can hide the fact that he's been crying. Also, look at that gorgeous Swedish summer. It is so pretty.

Culture: The third-years are painting the banners that go on the trucks on graduation day.

Culture: They're also signing each others' student hats, which is a common tradition. You can just sign your name or write something funny or do whatever.

Culture: This car is what we in Sweden call a sossecontainer. It's an old 90's Volvo, it's square, it's ugly, and it was pretty cheap and reliable, so it was very common and popular among working class and the lower middle classes. It was never a high-status car, so it perfectly illustrates the Eriksson family.

Subtext: Oh look, another throwback to season 1 when Sara argued with Simon about their dad, and said that he should stop giving people second chances.

Culture: Oh look, another poem by Karin Boye. This time it's Eternity, a poem about cherishing your time with your loved one, and the text is about how good times feel like an endless summer, which is what it certainly looks like for the kids and their teacher in the lush landscape. But just like in the poem, their endless summer is about to end.

Culture: This is pretty much exactly the reason used when real-world Lundsberg was temporarily closed.

Culture: And Wilhelm isn't wrong, the shitty traditions are in the walls of the place, it's always been like that, and it's always been upheld by everyone involved with the school, parents, teachers, staff, and students.

Subtext: Since this is the last episode, let's prepare the viewers to say good bye to the show, and let's do it with a little montage of students crying and taking their stuff down and emptying their rooms.

Culture: This is a 100% factually true statement, Göteborg is the worst city in the world. Source: I'm a native Stockholmer, and you just have to trust me on this, ok? Look, it's just common sense, alright? Don't listen to people from Göteborg, they're just jealous they're not living in the glorious capital. Also, they talk funny. And they have no sense of humour! And everyone is named Glenn or something.

Culture: I don't think they're referencing an actual school here, and the current Norwegian royal children went to school in Norway, not Switzerland. But the current Danish crown prince went to some boarding school in Switzerland for a while, but then he went to the Danish elite boarding school Herlufsholm. However, it was rocked by a bullying scandal in 2022, so they had to pull him out of that one and deny all knowledge of the events. Feels familiar?

Culture: Solliden is the private summer palace of the real-world Swedish royal family located on Öland, an island off the south-east coast of Sweden. The show has consistently stayed away from every likeness with the real world, but I guess they couldn't be arsed making up a fictional summer palace for the YR royal family so they went with something familiar.

Subtext: Farima is talking about the problems of finding a new school for Wilhelm from an academic perspective, but he's just thinking about how this means he won't be close to Simon any longer.

Culture: Vincent and the boys are pouring one out for Hillerska. It's a way to toast a dead friend, or in this case, a place.

Blink and you miss it: August places a king chess piece on the table before telling his friends that he's Wilhelm's reserve and might be king someday.

Subtext: And he's still so blinded by the glamour of it, despite everything. Thankfully, his friends can bring him down a couple of pegs.

Blink and you miss it: While Wilhelm is returning Kris, the book from last season, the second book in the pile is a book by Kjell Westö, Den Svavelgula Himlen - Yellow Sulphur Sky. It's about a working class kid in Finland becoming friends with his upper-class neighbour family, and his struggle maintaining a relationship with the girl of the family because of their class differences. Slightly on the nose there, show.

Meta: Henry interrupting our boys at the worst possible time is just a running joke at this point. How many times has it happened now? Four times? Five? Read the fucking room, Henry!

Subtext: Last chance to have a party together, but also last chance to see Simon, "maybe ever". Oh no, we have to start preparing for a sad ending!

Culture: Red solo cups are not a thing anywhere outside the US really, but you can buy them as a gag gift in Sweden, because to us they're just a weird movie prop we've seen American movies. Every other party scene in the show has featured regular plastic cups.

Culture: Drinking with the teachers?!? Yeah, sure, why not, everyone is an adult.

Subtext: Emo outfit? ✅ Sitting on the floor? ✅ Full of self-pity? ✅ Exaggerating the catastrophic state of his world in the way only a 17yo disaster boy can do? ✅

Meta: Another throwback to how Wilhelm was referred to as the party prince back in season 1.

Blink and you miss it: Felice hides the wine bottle behind her back before Malin comes in. She knows, Felice. Malin knows everything.

Meta: Another throwback to when Wilhelm was eating the dirt at the very same football field that disaster emo boy Simon is now sitting at together with his friends, who are trying to convince him to go to the final party.

Subtext: This time, August isn't just sorry that he got caught, he is genuinely sorry for everything he did to Wilhelm. He in turn forgives August, and we're all getting closure for this plot point.

Meta: Hey, hey, hey guys, do you remember that scene in season 1 episode 1 when Sara helped hold Felice's hair while she was throwing up? We're doing a throwback here!

Meta: Hey, hey, hey guys, do you remember that scene in season 1 episode 3 when Felice told Sara that maybe you don't have to speak the truth all the time? Well, Sara still doesn't understand why you would lie, but this time she's right, Felice was right to tell the truth.

Blink and you miss it: Stella and Fredrika are making out at the party, Felice saw it, and is making a very funny face. This is also why Stella rudely rejects Rosh, because of course she's gonna choose Fredrika, Rosh was just a distraction to make her jealous.

Subtext: Vincent is talking about Nils, who just came out, but August just saw Sara, and that's the whoever he wants.

Subtext: But despite saying that he doesn't care about anyone else seeing them, he still ducked behind a stack of pallets for this conversation.

Meta: This is a brutal Fleabag reference.

Cinematography: This scene is overwhelmingly lit in that sickly greenish fluorescent hue, but there's golden light coming from somewhere, so Sara and August share one final kiss in that golden light. But there's not enough of it to go around, not enough for their love to last, so August is left standing there alone, and all the golden light is gone.

Cinematography: Wilhelm and Simon left the party sometime after midnight, this is supposed to be a very early morning summer sunrise, and our boys are just gonna be bathed in the golden light throughout the entire scene. Gods, it is pretty.

Meta: Hey, hey, remember that scene in season 1 when Simon was singing that song, and Wilhelm instantly fell for him?

Meta: Hey guys, remember that scene in season 1 when they were discussing welfare politics in class and Simon threw shade on Wilhelm? This is a throwback to that.

Cinematography: Just fucking look at this shit. What a nice view. The nature and the sunrise is pretty, too! Going naked into the water? Yeah, that's a rebirth metaphor as well. Lisa said so!

Subtext: This entire scene is basically Wilhelm trying one last time to get Simon back. They said they weren't gonna, but he's trying anyway. They're talking about that politics class where Wilhelm couldn't speak up because he was "not allowed". So he's still bound by his royal duties, which is why Simon broke up with him last episode.

Subtext: And since Wilhelm is still stuck, he's left on dry land, while Simon swims away from him, free. Guys, I'm thinking we're actually gonna get a sad ending! This does not look good! 😭

Blink and you miss it: Stella and Fredrika are sleeping in the same bed and making out the morning after, and millions of #Stedrika shippers are rejoicing! Yay, fanservice!

Blink and you miss it: Walter is helping Henry up after he passed out in the grass outside after the party, and millions of #Walty shippers are rejoicing! Yay, fanservice!

Subtext: The last photo Wilhelm takes down from his wall is the one with him and Simon, because that's the most important memory of this place.

Blink and you miss it: Wilhelm shuts off his red lightstrip in his room. Those lights have typically been a symbol of his love for Simon, but he's turning it off. Sad ending confirmed.

Meta: Listen, it's a lovely little song that Simon wrote for Wilhelm, but it's 100% fanservice, it's referencing events in the show that Simon actually didn't witness, and it's even referencing the soundtrack to the show itself! I mean, come on! And we're getting yet another sad boy Wilhelm montage of him moping around Hillerska with his earbuds.

Subtext: Remember how the frog snowglobe was a gift from Erik, who in turn got it from their grandpa, the king? It's so obviously a symbol of the monarchy, but Wilhelm is dumping it in the trash. Are we... Are we not getting a sad ending?

Cinematography: The shot of the flag being raised is cut off at half mast, which is a pretty universal symbol for mourning. Oh ok, we're back on track for a sad ending.

Subtext: This is the first time this season that Simon speaks Spanish with his mom, and the first time in the entire series that Sara does, which shows that they're fully themselves again, they've pulled themselves out of the Hillerska world.

Culture: The graduating students are having a champagne breakfast before the graduation ceremony, that's also very common in Sweden.

Subtext: Felice and the rest of the choir decided to have a little rebellion and not sing the boring old Hillerska song, and instead the new improved one that Simon made last season. No-one told him about the switch though, which is why he's so surprised.

Culture: After the ceremony, the graduating students will run out of the school to find their parents and family and friends, who are waiting for them, usually with a big sign with the most embarrassing baby picture they could find of them.

Blink and you miss it: August's mom and stepdad have also made a huge sign with an embarrassing picture of August Malte as a kid. Adorable.

Lost in translation: The queen is saying "lilla gubben", which literally means "little old man", a very common term of endearment in Swedish families. The show has been pretty consistent in that Wilhelm's family are all using normal words, just like any other family would. So it's pretty funny that despite everyone else using titles and styles all the time, to Wilhelm, his parents are simply "mamma" and "pappa", as if he was a regular kid.

Subtext: As a graduating student you get little gifts from your family, flowers, champagne, stuffed animals, all with a blue-and-yellow ribbon so you can hang them around your neck. August is family, so the Queen gives him one as well. Of a frog with a crown. Which is a symbol of the monarchy in the show. Wilhelm threw his frog in the trash, August is getting a frog from the Queen. I think there might be symbolism here! I think we're setting up August to become the next king! Do we dare hope for a happy ending?

Cinematography: Just fucking look at this shit. The composition, the contrast, the height difference, the distance between them. It's so pretty. And they're talking about how good it was while it lasted, just like how a TV show with a sad ending can still be an amazing experience. Hint hint.

Subtext: We're saying our goodbyes, Wilhelm and Simon are saying goodbye to each other, Wilhelm wishes Simon a nice summer, just like how Simon wished Wilhelm a good Christmas back in season 1, and just like back then, they both understand that they love each other, but can't be together.

Cinematography: And then Simon exits the scene, again, leaving Wilhelm standing there alone, again, having seemingly chosen his family and royal duty.

Culture: It's common to either rent a truck as a large group of students, or to be driven in a flashy car alone or with a friend. The two girls in the centre are sitting in a very nice Aston Martin, while a bunch of their classmates are on a truck. I can't make out the full text on the banner, but I think it says something like "Lock up your sons because tonight we become like animals".

Culture: Svensson is a very common Swedish last name, so to "be a Svensson" basically means that you're super average and mediocre, you're like everyone else. Whereas these elite kids are used to having everyone else bow and scrape for them, so that message is on brand.

Cinematography: We're in the car, it looks like the ending of season 1, and we're doing a close-up of Wilhelm's face. We're ready for the fourth-wall-break of him staring sadly into the camera, having been once again broken down by the system and not getting the boy. We've said goodbye to everyone, roll the credits, start your crying...

Cinematography: ...except the show isn't ending here. We're having an honest conversation between Wilhelm and his parents for the first time. Because every other time he's said that he doesn't want to be crown prince of the next king, he's been angry or upset, he's been threatening, and definitely impulsive. But he's never wanted any of it.

Cinematography: His parents let him go, they open the door to their van, Wilhelm exits, and the show turns up the volume of the soundtrack. "Energetic music" my ass, it's the Harmony theme! It's the main theme of the entire show playing as Wilhelm runs away.

Subtext: Oh, yeah, August sees him run away, and understands that he's next in line now. Sorry buddy, sucks to be you, but never mind that now. RUN, WILHELM, RUN!!! GET YOUR MAN!

Cinematography: The shows turns into the most perfect rom-com, with Wilhelm chasing down Simon's car through the incredibly lush and green Swedish summer. He catches up to them, tells Simon that he ditched the crown for his own sake, and asks if it's really over between them.

VAD FAN TROR DU?

As if the soundtrack wasn't triumphant enough, it now starts playing As Long As you Are Here as they throw themselves in each other's arms. Happy ending! They're crying, I'm crying, we're all crying! 😭

Cinematography: A montage? With all the best scenes between our boys from the entire show? With the text of the soundtrack perfectly matching the montage? I should be outraged at how cheesy this is, but it is perfect. Perfect. I love it. I swear, this fucking show.

Subtext: Finally we are at the true ending of the show. Wilhelm has managed to escape Hillerska, him and Simon and Sara and Felice have all escaped the hierarchies, the expectations, the duties, and the toxic environment of the school. He arrived in a Ferrari, and is now running away with his boyfriend and friends in a crappy Volvo station-wagon. The stiff suit jackets are gone, they're all in white, his hair is ruffled in the wind, and for the last time ever Wilhelm looks into the camera. And he smiles.

He is finally free.

#young royals #young royals subtext #young royals analysis #young royals season 3

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

So we all know that Faust has a knife

(at least, her official plushie has ever since it came out, and it's been referenced plenty of times by the devs -)

But did Asra ever make her a knife?

Did that nonbinary menace to society wake up at 3 AM one fine foggy morning and go "my snake needs a knife ผ(•̀_•́ผ)" ??

Did they just. Did he just roll out of bed and hunt down an old switchblade and craft a Faust-friendly handle and what, hand it to her??? Like it was a good idea and nothing could go wrong????

(it was a good idea, and many things went delightfully wrong -)

#arcana brainbroth rambles #the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #asra alnazar #asra the arcana #faust the arcana

[stars-and-the-min]

☆ the wrong way to hard launch (10) | OP81

summary : oscar's girlfriend is a walking pr problem for literally everyone (including herself) social media au

pairing : oscar piastri x zhou!fem!singer!oc

a/n the calm before the storm?

masterlist | last part | part 10 | next part (tba)

INSTAGRAM

mclaren Shanghai International Circuit

54,829 likes

mclaren Looks like a race day to me 🤔 tagged: oscarpiastri and landonorris

pi4str1 good luck papaya fam 🧡🧡🧡

michelle.ar manifesting double podiums again

jimpxcs Let's go boys 🔥

MESSAGES

from the phone of selina bui

TWITTER

↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 2h WELCOME BACK LINA F1 LIVE TWEETS ↳ piaa⁸¹ @papayaeightyone · 1h she's so real for these reactions honestly 😭

INSTAGRAM

lilymhe just posted to their story

TWITTER

🕯️manifesting EB3 🕯️@ linabelles · 45m stfu i'd know that silhouette anywhere. lily muni he at shenzhen n3??? ↳ abby <3 @devilvows · 39m not just lily! alex, logan and oscar were also spotted in the venue!!

piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 21m omg oscalina crumbs 🥹 ↳ piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 21m this is so sad, they've already hard launched, why do i still feel like i'm in a drought

INSTAGRAM

lilymhe

liked by selinabui and 143,284 other

lilymhe Been hanging out with some rockstars lately 🤟 tagged: alex_albon, cameliazzz, selinabui and oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri Today I learnt: I still suck at golf ↳ selinabui @ oscarpiastri dw babe, at least we suck together ❤️‍🩹 ↳ oscarpiastri @ selinabui 🥹

selinabui gonna stick to singing my silly songs that was such a humbling experience ↳ oscarpiastri @ selinabui You did better than Alex

pastry81 the mother convention ft some kens

alex_albon I personally don't recommend karaoke with a musician

linasgirl4 THANK U LILY MUNI HE FOR CONTRIBUTING TO THE OSCALINA PHOTOS WE APPRECIATE U GREATLY liked by creator

oscarpiastri

liked by selinabui and 201,395 others

oscarpiastri Some moments off-track

dan_pjd puppy !!!🥺 so we have roscoe hamilton, leo leclerc and this is...? ↳ marie_h.sb @dan_pjd apollo! lina adopted him a year ago

landonorris I thought that was lily but no, she's really serious about that golfing thing, ain't she?

celia.sucxr why does he keep posting her ↳ pastry81 @ celia.sucxr because that's his girlfriend???

TWITTER

oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 4h too many people bitching and moaning about oscar posting about lina but u don't understand, if u were dating selina bui, u would also never stfu about her ↳ opal @pxastrixxx · 4h she's still mid lmao ↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 3h until u have acclaimed music critics blaming ur success on pretty privilege, shut up :) ↳ kayla @luna_apocolypse · 3h oomfie you ATE that and also unlocked a core memory

INSTAGRAM

emptybottles_official Shenzhen Bay Sports Center

liked by zhouguanyu24 and 362,486 others

emptybottles_official A beautiful Shenzhen homecoming for Lina and Jonny 💖 Thank you guys so much for three amazing nights of fun (and screaming with us) 🔜 Bangkok

lilymhe had an absolute blast! ↳ emptybottles_official @ lilymhe join us again soon?

zhouguanyu24 Did she sing THE song? ↳ selinabui @ zhouguanyu24 keeping dreaming man

piastri_lina shenzhen, how does it feel to WIN 😭

TWITTER

emme @flowersforcami · 1h and what do melb n1, tokyo n2 (replacement) and shenzhen n3 have in common? ↳ oscalina real ?! @emptyginbottles · 49m oscar piastri shows you will always be famous ↳ lukas 🔛🔝 @lukiepookie28 · 28m no bc someone needs to get the stats on her energy when oscar is in the crowd like girlie is BEAMING

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

taglist @ririyulife @ashy-kit @fionaschicken @namgification @cherry-piee @urfavsgf @eiaaasamantha

#f1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x oc #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri smau #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 smau #f1 fic #f1 smau #f1 imagine #f1 social media au

[lydiimae]

Strains and Stresses

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x !fem reader

Warnings: Light hints at sex, mentions of drinking, the ton being cruel to the reader, Anthony fighting with the reader, old concepts about class and womanhood, a very icky insult thrown at the reader by Anthony, fluffy fluff at the end

Word Count: 2.8k

A.N: Hello my sweet loves <3 I am so sorry I have not updated in a while, I just finished finals so life has been hectic. Also- I got a job FINALLY T-T and, more importantly, the class that I was going to take during the summer fell through so I will have much more time to write! BTW THANK YOU FOR 100 FOLOWERS HOLY \^-^/. You are all so kind to me. Anyway, this is a fic based on a request that you can find here and here. I decided to mix the two, as it is a semi-angsty Ant fic that ends in fluff. I hope you enjoy my darling Anons. For those who have requested a fic, I promise they are coming! I am planning on knocking another one or two out next week, but I wanted to write a Ben fic before as he is a big comfort character for me and I need some of that energy lol. P.S. I listened to the slowed version of Futile Devices while I wrote this, because it is just what I imagine falling in love and loving would feel like. Enjoy <3

You adored working for Lady Danbury, who wouldn't? She is an incredible woman, and so very strong. You admired her, for being so independent. You thought that that would be the life you lead, alone and working out your days as a maid. Then, you met him.

Met would be the wrong word, it was more of... stumbling into him after a young debutante 'accidentally' ran into you. You knew who Anthony Bridgerton was, of course. His reputation preceded him. Many of your friends and fellow maids had spoken of how harsh, how blunt, how much of a rake, the Viscount was.

For you, however, he had never been brash nor cruel, nor had he ever lived up to his reputation. For you, he was kind, gentle, and even sweet. He had placed a steadying hand on your back and met your eyes and you knew it was over.

From then on at every ball Lady Danbury held, you would always follow him to the gardens, stealing kisses in her in-home library, and sharing stolen glances from across the ballroom. After the balls, he would take you to his townhouse and you would both spend hours speaking of your lives, your dreams, your troubles. He was nothing but a gentleman.

You tried your best to ignore the strange warmth that bloomed in your chest when you were with him. In a way, you always knew that you would end up with him. You believed that your lives were intertwined, like a string wrapped around your soul that only stopped tugging when you were near him. It was comforting.

He had expressed his love to you about seven months in, on a Sunday morning in bed. The yellow hue of the morning sunrise made it feel like you were in heaven, his hands running against your sides like you were made from the finest porcelain. He said it easily as if it was the most simple thing he had ever had to do. A simple "I love you." was murmured into your ear before his lips pressed against your forehead. Just as easily came the proposal, more of a promise, right there in the same bed.

It was simple, perhaps even plain, but not to you. To you, it showed he was comfortable enough to express his feelings, and his deepest wants, just to you. It was intimate, the light cascading down upon his skin as if he were a god, bringing out every contour and mark on his body.

After the announcement of your engagement, rumors spread like wildfire. Every house in Mayfair was a spark that made the fire grow, little trails of flame splitting off along the way until the fire was all-consuming. He had warned you that the rumors would be bad, that not many would express their support for the union of a maid and a Viscount. You just did not expect it to be so suffocating.

You found solace in his embrace, as you always did, spending countless nights wrapped in the silk sheets at his townhouse, listening to his whispers of affection and praise until they eased the tears that had spilled down your cheeks.

It went on like this for the three long months leading up to the wedding. You were married in the spring, surrounded by his loved ones as yours had passed long ago. It was small enough to feel the heavy weight of the ton lifted off of your shoulders, if only for a moment.

You honeymooned in Bath, spending time in the hillsides on worn blankets for hours, allowing your skin to be tanned by the sun. When you would go back to the villa you were staying at, you would spend the night wrapped in his bare embrace, relishing in the feeling of his skin upon yours. It was the most calming, loving, and divine three months of your life.

It has been almost eight months since the honeymoon ended. Six months of putting up with the cruel words spoken by members of the ton, of sticking to his side at balls just so you could try and shake the feeling of the many glares sent your way. Six months of learning not only what it is to be a Viscountess, but what it is like to be a noblewoman.

Anthony had spent a month teaching you the proper etiquette that came with being a noblewoman, a lot of it being common sense thanks to Lady Danbury's way of ruling around her home. However, there were some things you found to be too niche to remember. One thing was that a lady could not go out on a walk by herself.

As a maid, walks alone in the gardens of Lady Danbury's estate had become a part of your daily routine. You would often spend countless hours sitting beneath a willow tree flipping pages of a new book or you would walk around the grounds, seeking solace in the fresh air to clear your mind after a particularly hard day. You never snuck out alone, except to see Anthony, and even then you did nothing untoward, which is why it was so hard for you to remember this silly rule. It was one you forgot today, too.

"Thank you, Rose." You hum to your lady's maid as she finishes your hair. She smiles and curtsies in return. "Of course, my lady. You need only ask if you need anything else." She says before she walks out of the room. You sigh, the title the servants address you with will never not feel strange. You adjust your jewels before standing up and walking to the window.

You had been told as you woke that your husband would be in his study today, claiming he must work on the financial affairs, meaning you have the day to yourself. The view from the master bedroom was a gorgeous one, the windows overlooking the entirety of the lands that Aubery Hall encompassed. You smile to yourself, deciding to take a stroll, perhaps even find a spot to enjoy your new book of sonnets Anthony's brother gifted you.

You pluck the book in question off of your bedside table before walking down the grand staircase. The house, other than the footsteps of the servants, is quiet. No one around to stop you from enjoying some time outside, alone. You grab your parasol and open the door, stepping out into the summer air before making your way around the lands of the estate.

Anthony leans back in his desk chair, stretching out his limbs after finishing the last piece of paperwork he has on his desk. He takes a large swig of bourbon before standing up and moving to the window, pulling the curtains open.

He glances out over the sprawling hills of the estates, swirling the copper liquid in his glass as he takes in the view. As his eyes roam, he spots a small figure making their way up one of the hills. At first, he thinks it a servant, probably out to collect fresh flowers for his bedroom upon his wife's request, but when he glances again he sees your parasol. The one he brought back from one of his ventures to France.

He can feel himself getting angry. He had drilled this into your head one too many times, never be anywhere alone, not in public and not on private lands. The servants whisper, and their gossip spreads even faster than the gossip of the bloodthirsty Mamas of the ton. He downs the rest of his bourbon before slamming the glass on his desk. He rounds it and grabs his velvet jacket from its place on the back of his chair, slinging it around his shoulders before stomping out of the room.

You are just about to sit down when you hear the calling of your name from towards the estate. You look over your shoulder, leaning on your closed parasol, to find your husband hurriedly making his way over to where you stand.

At first, you think that something bad might've happened, perhaps he found something in the many documents that was awry, but you know that is not the case from the way he is walking. Stomping, rather. He is angry, furious even, so you try and wrack your mind to find what you have done to make him this angry.

Before you can he is upon you, one of his large hands encircling your wrists and dragging you away from the hill. "Anthony, do not grab me like some sort of brute!" You yelp, trying to tug away from his bruising grip, which he only tightens upon your plea. "I shall grab you however I wish." He snarls, making your eyes widen. "Be quiet until we are inside."

He tugs you along until you are both inside of his study, where he slams the door and locks it. You begin to speak but he quickly interrupts. "Have you any idea of what you could have just done by being out there, Y/N?!" He shouts, making you take several steps back in surprise. "I was only going for a walk." You whisper and he scoffs. "A walk alone, you foolish woman!" He continues, his voice only getting louder.

The insult sends anger through your veins. "You shall not insult your own wife for merely going outside!" You shout back and he narrows his eyes almost dangerously. "I have told you hundreds of times that you are not permitted outside without a proper companion, Y/N! Going against that is indeed foolish as I have hammered it into your head countless times!" He shouts. "I am not foolish! This is all new for me! I-" You start but he is quick to respond.

"New? That is rich! Utterly rich, because to me it has been eleven months! Eight of which you have been here, doing your duties as my Viscountess!" He shouts louder, on the verge of screaming. You press yourself against the wall opposite to him. "Did they not teach you anything in your time as a maid?! You still act like a common whore even though we have fought about this too many times to count! I am tired of it!" He shouts.

Common whore. The title cuts straight through you like a hot knife, the burns making your eyes well up with tears. The title has been used to spite you at every ball, in every gossip letter, and in every whisper you have heard in the last year. It does not hurt coming from them any longer, but from him? From your husband? It feels like he has damaged your very being.

You stand there stunned, watching his mouth move but hearing no words. "You think I am a common whore?" You whisper and he stops, looking at you. You are pressed against the wall, your arms hugging your frame, tears spilling freely down your cheeks. His body language visibly changes from that of an angered husband to a guilty one.

"Y/N I did not mean-" He begins but you shake your head. "You most certainly did mean it, it came out of your mouth!" You sob. "I was angry! I am angry!" He shouts, more in a desperate act now, wishing he could reverse time. "So?!" You shout, your gloved hands pressing into your bare arms. "I have never once insulted you like that! Never once used what has been said about you as a weapon for merely-" You laugh bitterly, shaking your head and looking away. "For merely going outside." You scoff.

He falters and visibly slumps in defeat. "It is foolish, but they will talk, Y/N. You know-" He begins quietly, but again you do not let him finish. "Yes, Anthony. They will talk, they will say the words you have just spoken to me." You say, wiping your eyes. "I forgot, and I know you have drilled every rule into my head but this is not the norm for me." You whisper

"When I was a maid, no, even when I was a little girl, I would go wherever I wished alone. I would pick up food at the market for my family, and take my brother to his job at the factory, and now I cannot even go outside alone? Upon my husband's private lands, no less?" You whisper. "So forgive me, Anthony, for forgetting rules that you and your siblings have grown up abiding by. I am trying to learn and remember them now, after living a very different life." You say, looking at your feet in an attempt to stop the tears. As if not looking at him will somehow ease the sting of his words.

He scoops you into his arms without thinking about it, pressing his forehead to yours. "Y/N, you know I did not mean it." He whispers and you frown, trying to tug away. "No, no. I might've meant it in the moment, and I know I cannot take it back." He amends, his hold on you tightening. Still, you refuse to meet his eyes. "Darling, please look at me. I swear I shall never say anything as cruel as what I did ever again." He whispers, his fingers curling around your chin so he can bring your gaze back to him.

When your eyes meet his he offers a sad smile, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear. "It was cruel. No, no. Cruel is too kind of a word, it was vile, for me to utter such a word when speaking of my own wife." He whispers, his hand coming down to your cheek. "I swear to you that I mean it when I say I am sorry, you shall never know how sorry I am for saying something so disgusting to you."

He continues, his thumbs swiping away the tears that have now begun to flow again. "You are the most important thing to me. I have done a terrible job of showing you that today. I shall spend every day trying to ease the pain of my foolish words." He vows, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I know this is hard for you, the rules of society are so... foolishly strict for women and even I cannot imagine how much stress they are adding upon everything else" He murmurs, and you tug at his sleeve, willing him into an embrace.

You tuck your face into the crook of his neck and allow yourself to cry. "Shhh, Y/N. You are perfect, no matter your status." He whispers in your ear, running one of his hands up and down your back as the other rests on your hip. "I am not a good Viscountess, Anthony." You whisper and his grip on you tightens. "Hush. You are the perfect Viscountess, Y/N. The perfect Bridgerton." He promises.

"You have been learning so quick, one slip-up of an utterly foolish rule does not discount the many months where you have been perfect." He whispers, pressing his lips to the side of your head. "Neither do the words of your brutish husband." He teases quietly and your lips turn up a bit. "The gossiping Mamas will find another topic in time, my love. They are merely jealous that their daughters are still stuck without a husband while you are here." He murmurs and you nod.

He pulls back and cups your cheeks, watching your eyes flutter shut. "Better?" He whispers, running his thumbs along your cheekbones. You nod and he sighs in relief, bringing you closer to his chest. "I will never be able to express how sorry I am for saying that to you." He whispers. You smile, leaning into his touch and nodding.

He presses a gentle kiss to your lips and wipes the remainder of your tears away before pulling back a bit. "We shall have a picnic." He whispers and you open your eyes, laughing. "We do not have to" You giggle and he grins, shaking his head. "Nonsense, we must. I have been cooped up inside all day and I wish to spend time with you, in the sunshine." He hums, pressing his lips to your nose.

An hour later you are both lying down on a lacy blanket, a picnic basket full of sweet treats. Two glasses of wine stand abandoned on the grass, being forgotten in a mess of kisses. Your head is resting on his chest, your hands clasped together over one of his legs. "I love you." He whispers, pressing a kiss to your brow. Your eyes are shut but you smile. "And I love you." You whisper back, falling asleep while bathed in sunlight.

How divine it feels to be loved by Anthony Bridgerton.

#bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton fluff #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton fanfic #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x female reader #fluff #cutie pie anthony #bridgerton angst #light angst #angst #angst with a happy ending #angst with fluff #anthony bridgerton angst #meanie anthony #imagine #angst imagine #fluff imagine

[zeldasnotes]

HI ! I saw your Sexy notes part 3 and i have an embarassing ask to ask . I have lilith in cancer but my breast are ugly couse they are small and my nipples are inverted ( yes, such thing exists ) I am super embarrased by them. I feel deformed and ugly and I am terriflyed to be seen naked even by a doctor let alone a lover . woman on porn AND on movies have pointy nipples - and that makes me feel even more as an ugly freak . So i want to ask is it becouse my lilith is in the 10 house? i dont know what this house deals with but is it couse of that that they are ugly? or is it becouse my chiron is in the 1 and that makes me have an ugly body ?(even tho i have read chiron in the 1 is about insecuritis related to the face or the whole body counts ?) i do have venus in the 8 but thats useless ! i just wonder couse one astrologer told me - with such placement (chiron 1) your lesson is to be kind to others and give them confidents and thats how you will heal... but i am confused ok i am kind to people , give compliments to others ,everyone tells me how amazing and kind i am , i am uplifting others BUT i still see myself as physically ugly- how the fuck me been kind to others is gonna make me feel sexy and pretty ?? like makes 0 sense ...sorry i dont wanna sound rude !!! - i just dont know what i am doing wrong? thank you for your notes tho , gives interesting information and its also you have a great unbias opinions and also you do all kinds of topics and that so fun and refreshing ! sorry for the terrible ask i will understand if you dont respond couse shit that is one weird ass ask (sorry again)

Hi! Ive seen a lot of Cancer Liliths be insecure about their breasts so I think its that placement making you extra insecure about that part. And then the Chiron 1st house makes you extra insecure. Chiron 1st house doesnt give an ugly body but it can make you insecure about your body. Venus 8th house is also one of the placement that makes you less likely to see your own beauty. Its actually scary how some placements can make someone see themselves different than how they really look. Ive seen so many people with the placements you just listed who felt insecure about themselves about certain features while others saw them as beautiful.

Lilith seems to have the same effect on the body part that rules the house it sits in. I have Lilith in the 8th house and I always felt insecure about my genitals even tho none of my partners commented something bad about them. My sister have Lilith in the 4th house and she had a boob job, my best friend had Lilith in the 9th house and she hated her legs.

And almost 90% of the women in the adult industry had their breasts and genitals done so dont ever compare yourself to them. But I know its hard not to😭💜

#astro notes #astrology #astro observations #astronotes #lilith #lilith aspects

[roguelov]

Crimson Stained Petals (Chapter 4)

Summary: Set in the 1880s, rumors and mysteries swirled around a quaint town, mostly about a lord tucked far into the woods. Arriving in town, you could not deny your curiosities, but you were not here to stay. Or so you thought. Low on funds, and a job for a live-in servant advertised in the paper, you now found yourself in the home of Lord Morpheus - the source of all rumors. Passions and tensions will grow. Questions will be answered, but may come at a hefty price. And a promise may be broken. But, is Lord Morpheus, and those few residents, truly as scary as they seem?

Words Count: ~3.4k

Reader: Fem

Warnings: minor angst (dealing with nightmares and depression), mostly fluff, pining, blood (reader gets minor cut)

Chapter 3 and more chapters to come!

Over the few days, Morpheus had noticed a dreary cloud forming and seemingly growing over your head. It casted its gloom and rain dampening your radiance. Your smile was not quite as bright, it barely reached your now sullen eyes. Your presence was no longer felt in every room. Your laughter, your occasional humming, your musical-like steps were gone. You were a shadow, a husk. And big by bit, you retreated from him; you actively avoided him, or so he believed.

“Lucienne,” Morpheus asked one evening.

The pair was in the study. Papers littered all over the desk along with uncapped inkwells and used fountain pens. They poured and poured over the dull necessities of maintaining the bookshop - going over profits, bills, shipments, and new orders.

Lucienne peered at her lord over her glasses quizzically. “Yes?”

“Have you spoken with our dear mortal recently?” Morpheus still stood over the desk and continued to scan over documents, trying not to look bothered by his inquiring question or your sudden change.

“No, I haven’t.”

A tension set in his jaw. “I see.”

Lucienne quickly picked up on Morphues’s displeasure. A smile tugged on the corners of her lips. She was not oblivious to her lord’s far more chirper attitude since welcoming you into the manor. “May I ask what brought up this question?”

“Curiosity,” he replied nonchalantly.

Lucienne hummed, unconvinced. “Curiosity? Or concern?”

Her question stirred a reaction out of him. Morpheus whipped his head, now facing Lucienne directly. “And if I am, is there anything wrong in worrying about her?” His question was one of concern for you, yet his tone in which he spoke was biting - what exactly was Lucienne implying?

Lucienne’s smile only grew. She calmly responded, “No, sir.”

Upon seeing Lucienne’s calmness, Morpheus’s shoulders instantly dropped. His anger was misplaced. All the fight was drained from him, and soon the truth spilled out. “She -“ he sighed - “she does not seem happy and … and I do not know if it is because of living here or because of troubled nights.”

Lucienne thought of how there was an easy solution to his conundrum: he should speak with you. However, she held her tongue this time and instead opted to ask a question regarding you. “Troubled nights?”

“The other night, she spoke of having a nightmare.” Morpheus’s eyes shone with a heavy sorrow. “She … she was utterly frightened, Lucienne. Her fear nearly choked me.”

Lucienne frowned. “I was not aware, but a nightmare is a nightmare. There is not much one can do.”

Morpheus sighed, dropping into his chair. He tipped his head back and stared blankly up at the high ceiling. His heart - ancient and heavily barricaded - ached to see you smile. Just once more, just for a moment. In such a brief period, you had invaded his thoughts. He did not realize he craved it, sought it out, until it was taken from him.

Taken.

It seemed many things were taken from him in recent years. He pushed aside those thoughts and painful memories. He ran his hands over his face then through his tousled hair. Such complex feelings swirled inside his chest and constricted his heart.

“You care for her.” Morpheus lifted his head, looking towards Lucienne. She continued, “Which is never a bad thing, sir. She has brought new life here.”

And in you, she thought.

“I care for all of you,” he answered, dismissing her comment.

“You do, and we appreciate it.”

He raised an eyebrow at the weighted pause at the end of her sentence. “But?”

She smiled to herself. “I believe the care you feel for us and her are different.”

Morpheus frowned. Was he truly so easy to read? Did he truly become enamored with his housekeeper so quickly like a tale of forbidden romance? Did he truly want a partner … or did he want something else? He turned his head away, grumbling to himself.

Care? If one could call it such.

Does a farmer not care for his slaughter? Care, hunger, desire, it all can twist together. They can form into complex knots, making it impossible to tell where one may begin or end.

“For you, my lord.”

A beautiful picturesque rose dripping in a passionate red appeared in front of Morpheus’s face. He was working tediously in his study, and surprisingly failed to hear him. He just appeared, a magical and strange habit of his.

Morpheus blinked, gently taking the rose out of his hand. “Oh, uh, thank you.”

He smiled warmly like a sunny day. His wondrous new grander had already made such a change in the once dismal manor. Colors of all sorts were injected into the very foundation. Flowers bloomed wildly and freely, life blossomed with a new fever. “I thought you might like it, sir. Red suits you perfectly.”

”How do you do it, Lucienne?” Morphues whispered softly, changing the conversation. His voice was filled with sorrow as memories resurfaced. Sweet, painful memories, ones he wished he could forget yet also wouldn’t trade anything in the world for they were more precious than any gold or jewelry.

“Meaning what, sir?”

”To be close to her, to not be affected by her?”

Ah.

”Well, someone taught me control.” Lucienne slowly organized papers. “Someone had once found me in an awful state and was able to bring me back to my senses. Now, part of me cannot bare the smell of human blood without my stomach twisting into disgust.”

Morpheus’s eyes softened.

Lucienne gathered up the papers, ready to part of the night. “A solution to your problem: perhaps you can try to talk to her and cheer her up, sir. I’m sure she would appreciate the gesture.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And how would I do that?”

She chuckled, almost in a knowing way, and strolled out of the study. “I believe you will figure it out, sir.”

The soft click of the door echoed in the now quiet, lonely space. Morpheus peered over to the window with its curtains drawn. Even drawn closed, the setting sunlight streamed through the cracks trying to warm the earth in its last moments. Tilting his head, he saw the surrounding woods fade in the dying light. As his gaze darted around taking in the surroundings, it landed on a corner of dark greens and deep reds. Lucienne’s words replayed in his head. He was on his feet, already looking for you before he fully understood it himself. His feet carried him downstairs towards your room, however he stopped in the dining room. Looking ahead, he instead saw you sitting in the sun room. You were on the couch with your back to him and your head bowed. He immediately changed course.

Quietly, he opened the door. The potted trees and fauna stretched its shadows and created unique jagged shapes. A soft orange bathed over the room. The fractured soft light shone through the glass and casted you in an ethereal halo of twinkling gold.

You were a goddess of light.

As he walked towards you, you did not stir. You had heard him by the high pitched squeak of the door and the faint clacking of the heels on the tile floor. He stopped by your side, peering down at you. “I see you are still reading that book from before.”

You laughed, a quick huff through your nose, and closed the book in your lap. You glanced up at him with a forced smile. “Trying and failing, sir.”

His eyes swept over your face. Gaunt was the first word to come to mind. You appeared gauntly and ragged. Bags were carved under your eyes, and your skin had lost its glow. He pushed on, trying not to dwell and stare at your new appearance. “And what has your mind occupied this time?”

The other night. The nightmares. An unpleasant past. You.

“I suppose a lot of things,” you answered with a heavy sigh.

Morpheus frowned slightly. Yet, he quickly wiped it away, replacing it with a small endearing smile. He extended his hand down towards you. “I know a place to help clear your mind, would you care to join me?”

Your eyes flickered up. His dazzling blue eyes - contrasted against the golden dazzling air - only showed kindness and a hint of concern. You should refuse, you should stay or perhaps return to your room for the night, but … but how could you say no? Not when he looked at you in such an alluring way, and not since he piqued your deep rooted curiosity. You carefully set the book aside on the plush cushions, and placed your hand in his. “I would love to.”

Morpheus’s smile grew as he drew you up to your feet. “Wonderful.”

He hooked your arm through his and guided you forward. Together, you walked out through the back entrance of the sun room, heading directly for the rose maze. The sun had dipped below the horizon, however its last bits of rays faintly colored the sky. Oranges and pinks still stained the vast canvas known as the sky. They desperately clung behind as rich purples, dark blues, and an all consuming black began to drip down coating all corners. The moon, perfectly sliced in half, already shone in the dimming sky. Its companions, stars, began to twinkle and fill the empty space for the moon was never alone. The rose maze, under this changing light, was mysterious. The greens almost appeared black, while the reds were embers of a dying fire. Excitement buzzed across your skin. Your heart flipped, nearly dropping into your stomach. It was all so thrilling to finally set food inside, and to be by Morpheus’s side as your guide.

Even if you shouldn’t, even if a logical part scolded you.

Morpheus drew you close as you approach the entrance of the maze. “Now, stay close. At night, it can be tricky to navigate.”

There was a hint of humor in his voice as if he was trying to spook you. You chuckled, shaking your head, “Really? Is that your plan? To take me in and do what you want without anyone seeing?”

He laughed, a deep rich laugh that vibrated in your own chest. “You have me figured out.”

You smiled, a true genuine smile. It returned as if it never truly left. It was nice to be joking and laughing with him. It was surprisingly so easy, like two friends and nothing else.

No titles, no past.

Stepping into the maze was stepping into another world. The maze hedges were easily seven feet tall and two or three feet wide, it fully blocked out the world the further you walked in. The hedges were cut and trimmed to perfection. No branch stuck out, only roses. And the roses? Gorgeous with no flaws. There were full roses with their petals spread out to greet you, there were buds still closed waiting for their time, and there were roses in every stage of blooming covering almost every inch of the hedges. The sweet floral aroma tickled your nose and filled the air.

You hummed, pleased by the scent.

Morpheus peered over at you, taken by your wide curious eyes. Your eyes darted all around, fascinated by it all, memorized by its beauty. Strolling further in, he followed the correct path leading to the center of the maze. His stride did not hesitate, but only slowed when your eyes longingly lingered back on all the passing flowers.

Best of all, and to your surprise, there weren't only red roses.

No, the deeper you walked the red stayed, yet yellows, pinks, and whites were slowly incorporated into the mix. A beautiful blend, and various shades, of warm inviting colors. It was like a storybook, a scenery plucked from a far off prosperous kingdom. Tempted by their beauty, you reached out, running your fingers along the soft petals. It was fine silk, or like a cloud.

“Careful -“

You hissed, stopping in place. A thorn had pricked your thumb.

Morpheus instantly frowned and moved in front of you. He carefully took your hand, examining your thumb. It was nothing to be concerned about. An insignificant prick, no worse than a paper cut. A small dot of blood began to well up. The dot sparkled like a certain ruby pinned to his tie. Before he could stop himself, Morpheus brought your thumb up to his lips. His lips - soft and gentle - pressed into the pad of your thumb kissing it.

Your heart flipped in your chest.

Morpheus’s eyes glanced up, locking with yours. A look flashed across his eyes, a look which could only be described as hunger. He nearly knocked the wind out of your lungs by such a simple look. He pulled away and dropped your hand. Turning his back to you, he mumbled, “Apologies for my behavior.”

He licked his lips, tasting the tiniest bit of your blood. He had to suppress a groan. It was truly addicting, like a newly discovered liquor he could happily get drunk off of each and every night.

“I have an older sister who used to do such a thing if any of us were injured. It’s a habit I unknowingly picked up,” he explained.

No, not explained but excused. It wasn’t necessarily a lie. However, it was a lie he told himself and you, rather than admit the aroma of your blood tempted him to act.

“It’s okay,” you muttered, feeling your heart skip in a way you had never felt before. “I should have known better.”

Morpheus wanted to say something, wanted to do something. He wanted to draw you close, he wanted to wrap his arms around your waist, he wanted to nuzzle his face into your neck, he wanted to hear you say his name over and over, he wanted to -

“Please,” he cleared his throat, “I would refrain from running your fingers over them. The thorns are quite sharp, and we needn’t any more accidents. Come, the center is up ahead.”

He walked - no, marched - ahead, and did not bother looking back to see if you were following.

Your lips thinned in thought. You silently followed him as this bizarre tension hovered in the shared space. The only sounds were the crunching of both of your shoes against the pebbled path. You eyed Morpheus’s back curiously and with some trepidation. He had once again pulled away from you. He showed you such kindness, yet almost scared by something he backed off. Why? What frightened him? What thoughts floated around in that head of his?

Why do you care, a voice called out.

You tensed a little. Why did you? It was so pointless and idiotic, especially when -

“We’re here,” Morpheus said. He rounded a corner and disappeared from sight.

Skirting around the hedge, you let out a small gasp. The pebbled path opened up. The space was carved into a perfect circle, with patches of lush full grass that tempted any tired feet to rest. One could lay and gaze up at the stars, or have a picnic in the high sun. However, most would turn to the concrete benches that surrounded the showstopper: a fountain at the very center. The fountain - smaller than the one in front of the house, yet had four tiers compared to the three - had dozens upon dozens of rose petals floating across the surface. Peering up, the moon looked back down at you in this secret oasis smiling. Its light rippled in the water, scattering its reflection. With the various colors from the roses, and the moonlight’s, it glittered here like a treasure trove.

It was breathtaking.

Morpheus glanced over his shoulder back to you. His heart lurched forward. You looked so beautiful under the moonlight. You slowly approached the foundation, dipping your fingers into the cool water. You picked up a petal, admiring it before setting it back into the water. A smile never left your lips. Any issues, any problems from before, were gone. Each of you solely existed in this moment. Morpheus felt his heart being drawn to you, bound to you. Anything you wanted, anything to keep you smiling, he would do.

What a frightening and thrilling feeling, so familiar yet so foreign to him.

You moved and sat down on the bench, watching as the water spilled over the tiered edges and as petals spun and danced on top of the water. The sounds of the water splashing, and trickling, was hypnotic and soothing. You sighed dreamily and murmured to yourself, “What a beautiful place.”

“It is.” You turned your head, looking up at Morpheus. His eyes were directly on you as he spoke, you always seemed to get his full attention. He smiled softly. He produced a rose from behind his back - a pure white rose that glittered like snow under the moonlight. He sat beside you on the bench, “May I?”

“Yes.”

He leaned forward, tucking the roses behind your ear. As he drew back, his nimble fingers skimmed along your jaw. His eyes softened. You truly were a fresh change in his life, a well needed change. You had taken his heart in the short time you worked here with your humor, your wit, your curiosity, and your kindness. He was smitten for deep in his heart he was a hopeless romantic.

He turned away from you, looking to the fountain. Your heart skipped. His touch burned across your skin. You reached up, touching the soft pure white petals. A smile crossed your lips as you stared at the multifaceted lord.

“I suppose I have to admit I do have an ulterior motive for asking you to join me,” he began.

“Oh?” You titled your head. “And what would that be?”

To see you smile again, he thought.

“I have a question to ask, a request, and I did not want anyone else to listen in.”

You leaned forward, silently waiting.

He bowed his head, and dare you say appeared to be almost shy. It surprised you to see him in such a way. He peered up at you with a cluster of unreadable emotions on his face. “I would like to ask if you would join me to attend my dear friend’s party.”

“What?” You breathed out.

“I want you to accompany me to Hob’s party, if you so wish to join me.”

“I … I am unsure. I am just taken back by your offer.”

“Do you truly find it so surprising?”

“Given my employment to you, I suppose I do,” you joked lightly.

“If you wish, think of it as a bonus for your wonderous upkeep of the manor.” He searched in your eyes hoping to find his answer. “So? Do you accept?”

You smiled softly, “How could I pass up such generosity? Yes.”

Lucienne was right. Morpheus knew exactly what to do.

Shortly after his surprising offer, Morpheus explained he will take care of anything. He will find a dress for you for the night, and pay all expenses - you reluctantly agreed after much arguing.

Soon, arm in arm again, he guided you out of the maze, and towards your room for the night. He paused in front of you, hovering slightly as if something weighed on him, as if he wished to say something else. His lips parted, but he just bowed his head. “Goodnight, I hope you have sweeter dreams tonight.”

“Thank you,” you bowed your head.

Say something, do something.

Instead, you just simply smiled. “Goodnight, sir.”

You twisted around to go into your room when a hand latched around your wrist. You suppressed a shiver at his cool hand. You peered over your shoulder looking down at the hand then slowly your eyes trailed up to see Morpheus’s wondrous blue eyes.

“Please,” he whispered softly, “when it is just us, call me Morpheus. No need for such formalities.”

Your heart fluttered, like a hummingbird. “Of course. Morpheus. Goodnight.”

His eyes twinkled, utterly overjoyed. A smile spread over his lips. He gently let go of your wrist and stood back with perfect posture. He bowed his head again, “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

You turned, finally stepping into your room. You gently shut the door as a giddy feeling washed over you. Morpheus’s footsteps soon faded away. You sighed, dreamily. Taking the rose from behind your ear, you floated over to the nightstand by your bed. You gently laid it down. Your fingers traced over the petals, unable to stop smiling. Maybe later you will get a cup and water for it. Your eyes, however, soon caught a folded piece of paper on the stand. Your smile faltered. Picking it up and unfolding it, your mother and father smiled back up at you. You folded the picture again. You tucked it under the beautiful white rose.

Just a little longer, you thought. I promise.

#the sandman #morpheus #dream of the endless #the sandman au #vampire!au #vampire!dream #vampire!morpheus #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #vampire!morpheus x reader #vampire!dream x reader #x reader #fem!reader

[starlight-bread-blog]

My Interpetation of The Southern Raiders: Part 2 – Zuko

Warning: The views expressed in this analysis will be somewhat uncritical of Zuko. If you aren't likely to agree, you aren't going to enjoy this post. This is your chance to leave. I probably won't have a debate for personal reasons.

——————

This is the second part out of a three part series trying to answer every question posed by the discourse on The Southern Raiders. If I take some things for granted, it's because I discussed them in part 1, in which I delve into A\ang's role in the episode. Today, I'll set my sights on Zuko.

——————

1. Was Zuko a negative influence on Katara?

No, he did not. When Zuko merely presents the possibility of tracking her mother’s killer, it cuts through her reply right to her already leaving. In literature, what isn’t in the text holds no relevance and is to be disregarded as mere speculation. We don’t see Zuko convincing her, therefore he had no influence on her, and that she made the choices she did because she wanted to.

All Zuko did later on was defend a decision Katara already made on her own. And in both the first and second disagreements with Aang she had the last word. Ergo she was making her own choice.

Additionally, before they enter the room of who they think was her mother’s killer, Zuko asks her if she’s ready. And when she finally spares Yon Rha, he supports her decision. If he were to influence her, he wouldn’t have done either of these things. He only wanted to help Katara heal and never brought up anything that wasn’t already there.

——————

2. Was Zuko being too harsh on Aang?

(1) That's cute, but this isn't air temple preschool. It's the real world.

(2) [Forgiveness]'s the same as doing nothing!

(3) Okay, we'll be sure to do that, guru goody-goody.

He was definitely disrespectful towards Aang's culture, although his disrespectful remarks are a response to Aang’s own disrespect, imposing his beliefs onto Katara. And he didn’t say that until after Aang compared Katara to Jet. It was still wrong to come after the Air Nomad teachings, but they’re not as insulting as people paint them to be.

And it’s not like he didn’t take them back by the end of the episode. Zuko had good intentions, made a mistake and learned from it. That’s how characters grow, through mistakes. (More on that later).

——————

3. What motivated Zuko to find Yon Rah?

He wanted to earn Katara’s trust. The show makes it explicitly clear.

Zuko: What can I do to make it up to you?

And so later:

Zuko: Katara mentioned it before when we were imprisoned together in Ba Sing Se, and again just now when she was yelling at me. I think somehow she's connected her anger at that to her anger at me.

I’ve seen many describe this motive as selfish or manipulative, but I have to disagree. He has no reason to do anything to earn Katara’s trust. He saved her life on that very day, is fully accepted into the GAang, and in this episode he found out that some of her anger at him is rooted in projection. But he still goes out of his way to do the impossible, to give Katara the closure she needs in order to put faith in him.

——————

4. Why did Zuko think revenge\murder would help Katara?

Katara is a kind soul and murder wouldn’t have helped her heal, but Zuko had good reasons to think it would have. He didn’t know Katara’s soul, she didn’t even consider him a colleague, at that point she hated him. However, he did see Sokka killing Combustion Man in The Western Air Temple. So he has no way of knowing whether revenge would help, but he’s under the impression that murder isn’t a big taboo at least for some of the GAang.

Moreover, he knows that the person who took his mother away from him will receive justice, and that it helps him sleep at night. Katara doesn’t have that, Yon Rha retired in peace. So he offers her the justice he knows helps him.

But the main reason why he thinks revenge would help Katara, is that she told him it will. Zuko plays a largely passive role in the episode, simply assisting Katara in whatever way he can.He’s only fulfilling Katara’s wishes, and she told him that her wish is to seek justice on “the monster”.

——————

5. Did the trip have an effect on Zuko?

It did. By the end of the episode, Zuko delivers the following line:

This is an important part of his arc of unlearning the Fire Nation’s black and white philosophy that values aggression above all else. He comes around to Air Nomad pacifism and non violent solutions from seeing them work first hand. And as the good (redeemed) person that he is, he admits he was wrong and changes his views. He grew as a character to become a better version of himself.

——————

In conclusion, despite the somewhat questionable nature of Zuko's actions in "The Southern Raiders", his underlying good intentions shine through. His role was not a devil on Katara’s shoulder, but a natural force backing up whatever decision she makes. And this allows him to emerge with a valuable lesson learned.

#can't believe i wrote this so fast #wow #zutara #zuko x katara #anti kataang #katara x zuko #zukoxkatara #kataraxzuko #pro zutara #pro zuko #zuko #anti anti zutara #zutara analysis #zutara evidence #zutara forever #zutara meta #zutara nation #zutara should have been canon #zutara was robbed

[anonymouse5]

could you do a james potter X misophonia!reader

i have misophonia and have been struggling recently due to it,

if your not sure on what it is it’s where certain sounds trigger you, for example eating or pens tapping. Maybe a fic where he comfort her, normally when i’m triggered i either end up crying and walking away form the situation or i flip out at whoever is triggering me

ITS okay if not !! THANKYOU BBY

hey, sorry this took me so long to get to! writing this was an interesting experience. not sure if i want to do reader fics often but i'm not fully opposed to them either? anyway, i hope this brings you some comfort and is accurate(ish?) to your experience :)) sending lots of love <3

(feel free to send more requests if you like this!) (also feel free to send feedback!)

here you go:

Hogwarts had been busier than usual today. If you had been at home, maybe you would’ve just slipped on some noise cancelling headphones. But that isn’t really an option here, so you deal with it the best you can, hiding it out in your dorm on most days. Again, not an option today. You had way too many classes and clubs to go to. In the few minutes between, you go to the library. It literally has to be quiet there, right?

Of course, this is the one day James Potter and his friends finally decide to study (for once in their lives). You’re friends with Remus, and he seems alright. James— well, you try not to think too much about James. Thankfully, they aren’t making much noise, probably already having gotten a warning from Madam Pince.

It’s alright for a few minutes. But then you hear someone’s wand—

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You look over to the boys’ table. James, looking extremely focused, is tapping his wand on the edge of the table. He does look really busy. Maybe he’ll quit in a minute.

Nope. It just gets worse.

You feel a pressure in your head every time he taps his wand until it gets overwhelming. And then you snap.

“James, would you stop that?” you whisper-shout at him.

But you know it’s useless. You can’t study anymore anyway; you’re too overwhelmed. You pack your things and leave. You don’t notice James following after you until you’re outside the library and hear him shout after you.

“Wait,” he calls.

Despite yourself, you turn to him.

“Did I do something wrong?” James asks.

You bite back your immediate “yes”.

“The tapping was bothering me. It’s not your fault, though. I just—” you trail off, afraid he’ll laugh at you.

He’s got this weird look on his face, like he might.

“Remus hates it when I ‘chew loudly’,” James says. “Is it like that?”

“I guess? Listen, James, I just really want to be left alone right now.” You sigh.

“Ok, but before you leave— I think I might have a spell for you. We can go somewhere quieter?” James offers.

Reluctantly, you agree. James takes you to a spot on the Hogwarts grounds you haven’t seen yet. It’s a nice spot beneath a tree, with just bare grass and flowers blooming. You both sit down, and James points his wand at you.

“Woah, what’re you doing?” you shout.

“Just trust me,” James says.

You almost point out the obvious dangers of pointing a wand at someone’s head, but James seems so sincere and like maybe he’s done this before, so you let him.

He mumbles a spell and waves his wand in an unfamiliar pattern. Suddenly, it feels like your wearing your favorite noise-cancelling headphones, but so much better. You can’t even hear the light buzzing that you normally do.

“You have to teach me this spell,” you say enthusiastically.

The spell makes it a whisper to you, but the way James scrunches up his face tells you that maybe you were a bit loud.

“It worked then?” he asks.

You give him a thumbs up.

He takes out a piece of parchment and a quill and writes something down:

You know, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while. Go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?

There’s two checkboxes underneath: yes or YES

You smile and check the YES box, adding a smiley face next to it.

The two of you sit at the peaceful spot until the sun starts to go down. You start to come with him here often, and he teaches you the spell right after your Hogsmeade date.

#marauders era #the marauders #james potter #james potter x reader #marauders fic

[redemn]

thinking a lot about how to be a dog ,   by andrew kane ,   today .   thinking about how many dog allegories i put into arthur's characterisation and the way i envision his character to be ,   and how perfect this poem is for him .

thinking about how he must learn how to speak :   that   "  you must learn not to speak unless you absolutely must ,   or to speak as much as you feel you must regardless of how many times you are told to stop ,   or sit ,   or placed behind a door    this will depend on what kind of a dog you want to be [ … ] it may not feel as though you get to choose ,   and that too is a kind of dog .  "   that he accidentally found a family in two outlaws during one of the lowest points in his life ,   and in the formative years of his life .   who he immediately clung to and ,   with the desperation of a stray pup who has been yearning for that love ,   determined he would be loyal to for the rest of his life ,   who he grew close to and willfully bowed his bed to proudly wear the collar of the van der linde gang ,   because it's the thing that keeps him safe and feeling as though he belongs somewhere .   a reminder of the people who love him ,   on purpose .

how he   "  must learn to relinquish all control over everything you might wish to control .   you must learn to prefer to be led about by the neck on a piece of string ,   or staked to a neglected lawn by a length of chain .   you must learn ,   once you have sampled the freedom of a life without a chain ,   that it is better to return and be chained again .  "   because in learning his alphabet and how to shoot and how to speak ,   he learns how to appear to the gang ,   that role of enforcer which he has not chosen himself ,   but which he has settled into so easily .   there's nothing wrong with it in his eyes :   this is where he is most wanted ,   this is where he will find his love ,   and where he will always be welcomed and fretted over when he returns .   that he is no leader in the way dutch is .   that he is meant to be a follower ,   a helper ,   the one who protects with his imposing presence .

and then … thinking about how   "  of course you must learn to love ,   to love always and love entirely and to be wounded by nothing so much as the violence of your own love .   you must learn to be confused but never disappointed by a deficiency of love .  "   that he learns this thrice in his life .

1 .  ) that he forged such a close relationship with mary gillis ,   and with her brother beside that ,   taught him how to ride a horse and taught her how to protect herself when she needs it ,   and learned from her how to love himself in the same way she loved him .   learned that he must not fall victim to despair when he read that letter from her ,   that she was engaged because she couldn't love or marry a man with his lifestyle .   that he had always known it . 2 .  ) that his impetuous and outspoken little brother could leave their gang without much explanation ,   despite all the love that was there for him .   despite all the love arthur had for him ,   he still left .   he could leave ,   in a way arthur never could .   that he must learn not to be wounded from this ,   and to carry on regardless of the stain on their relationship ,   regardless of how angry and jealous inside he was that the golden child could return and not be hit with the consequences of his actions .   that the way he was scolded would never be wrought upon john .   but he must learn to look past it . 3 .  ) that dutch's ever-growing distance was a blame placed upon him from dutch himself ,   even though it all seemed to coalesce into something noticeable once micah joined the gang and began to lead dutch astray .   that it is forcing him farther from hosea , trust dutch like this . and yet he perseveres . that he must learn to live through it and clutch his collar and remind himself of the loyalty and the love he has for this man ,   and that leaving him even in the most broken of times would be a betrayal .   that they would pull through ,   because they had to ,   and because they always did .   that he must never be disappointed by the deficiency this love .

how   "  you must give up your children and not know why .  "   how he returned to eliza and isaac one fateful day ,   expecting to hold that little toddler in his arms and kiss his head and sniff that feather-soft familiar scent and expecting to see that warm smile eliza always wore for him whenever he came to visit them    only to find two graves beside that little house instead .   that his heart broke into a thousand fragments the moment he spotted those gravestones ,   before he even read the names ,   knowing that the woman who birthed his child and the sweetest boy he had ever known in his life ,   the two people he loved were gone forever ,   that he could never see them again .   that he never recovered all the fragments of his heart .   that he learned to give up his children without knowing why a few thieves could be so needlessly cruel .   that he learned to fall into despair ,   into drinking ,   into grieving and crying in ways he had never known before .   that he learned ,   months later ,   how to overcome the darkness ,   but not quite completely .   learned to carry himself with a different worldview after that ,   a quick gun ,   more ruthless decisions .   that there were some things that could never be changed about this world ,   that he must learn that these things will be ,   no matter what .

because in spite of his tough exterior and his determination and the resolution in all his actions ,   he is still a dog waiting for a bone that will never be tossed ,   with a fraying leash of loyalty that is ever tightening in each chapter until it yanks his head to the east and chokes him completely .   but he has learned   "  to believe that you are not in fact a dog at all .  "

#( ;; hey everyone. i ruined my own day writing this one. ) #╰ ゜headcanon. * i'll fight forgiveness ; so suffer for my shame. #long post //

[ollypopwrites]

From Depths Unknown ; Part 4

Part 1 ⚜ Part 2 ⚜ Part 3 ⚜ Ao3

Rolan x F!Tav (AFAB, she/her) *Tav is a Storm Sorcerer, but no actual reference to her appearance.

Rating: E

Tags & Warnings: [18+ MDNI] Language, Canon-typical violence (discussion of injuries), Discussions of Death & the afterlife, background Bloodweave.

Chapter Summary:

Rolan pulled Tav back into him, face buried in her hair and his tail wrapped around her leg as many times as it could. Perhaps it was the weakness she still felt, but she leaned into him, and he could feel her stuttering breaths with her pressed against his chest. She was crying. His own eyes had been stinging since she looked over at him for the first time in two days, clenched shut every time he thought they might spill over. He was so grateful he could hardly find words. 

Notes: Fuck it lets update two days in a row. This series will end at Part 6, I've decided. Thanks for going on this journey with me so far.

The last thing Tav remembered was pain.

The sun came up, and Lae’zel flew off astride a dragon into its bright glow. When she had faded away into the distance, Tav remembered staring at the spot where Karlach and Wyll had stepped through a portal to the hells. Someone had said something about the sun, and then the trail of deep gashes in her torso throbbed with mind numbing pain. Everything was blank after that. 

In the back of her mind in the fugue plane, she knew she was dead. It was nothingness, all senses and concepts slipped away. But her mind seemed to drift in a state of waiting for something to happen. What it was she could not remember. Flashes of faces were fuzzy, and the emotions they elicited were whispers. Time was unknowable, this state of absence could have been decades or seconds and Tav would not be able to tell the difference. 

Something pulled, tugging at the edges of whatever was left of her. 

First was amber colored warmth that seemed to seep into the center of the nebulous state of her, it beckoned: come back to me. She wanted to, letting the sensation fill her and start the spark of life. Tav felt her spirit be cupped in soft cooling hands, not diminishing the warmth, but an additional soothing touch, the color of silver wrapping around the amber glow.

 A sharp white shock of lightning spread through the shape of a body she forgot she had - a deep rumbling in her newly found chest, and the cool wash of rain on her face. They were separate entities, but she could not quite tell what or who they were. She trusted them, letting them pull her until  the combined efforts made the nebulous shapes she could see become clear. Faces. 

Rolan’s scarlet skin, freckles hiding under dirt and ash, with his dark hair slipping out of its neat tie at the back of his head. His eyes were wide, the yellow glow against the darkness of his sclera was a lovely sight. And Shadowheart, frowning with intense focus, her pretty green eyes bright and watery. Jaheira’s even stare was just over Shadowheart’s shoulder, and Halsin’s brow tipped in concern towering above both of the women. 

As if she was underwater, the familiar need to breach a surface and breathe overtook her. 

Her whole body had been a livewire of sensation when the air hit her lungs. Most of them were unpleasant: pain and nausea and exhaustion. Tav hardly comprehended what she said and saw, she just remembered being told she could finally rest and then everything went black again. 

Consciousness came to her slowly. But this was different than before. She was just waking up, like every other day in her life.

“Coming back from the dead, being suddenly tadpole free, the physical damage — these things are hard on the body on their own,” she heard a familiar rumbling voice. Halsin. “She’s been fully healed, but she needs rest.” 

“Are we certain there’s no lasting damage?” Another familiar voice. Deep, crisply accented and comforting despite the shortness of tone. Rolan. “That I didn’t… didn’t do the resurrection wrong?”

Her eyes opened. Above her was the canopy of an ostentatious four post bed, her eyes took in a painting of a celestial sky framed by gold filigrees. It smelled of magic, rosewater and sage, and something else — something familiar but unnameable. As her mind came to her, she felt the need to move her fingers,taking in the sensation of her touch on the soft fabric of velvet blankets. Beneath her body was a plush, comfortable, mattress. 

She ached. There was an absence in her psyche that at first was confusing — it was just her. No Emperor, no companions, no pounding resonation of the Elder Brain. 

“Tav?” 

Rolan’s face hovered over her. He looked as intense as ever, but it was softened by his eyes. Just as before, wide and comforting in their warmth. Her lips cracked, a slight sting accompanying the leisurely smile that took over her face. 

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Hello,” he smiled a little. 

“Is it over?” It’s all she could think to say, voice rough and dry.

“Yes,” he breathed. “Yes, you did it.” 

“What happened?”

“You —“ he swallowed, his smile dropping instantly. Whatever it was he couldn’t seem to say. 

“What can you remember?” Halsin asked, making look over to the foot of the bed where he stood. 

Tav wracked her brain. They were falling, they were in the water, they were on the dock. Lae’zel flew off on a red dragon, and named Tav liberator. Karlach’s heart almost gave out, but Wyll and her jumped into a portal before it could happen. Tav remembered frantically begging her to keep living, promising they would find a way to bring them back. Astarion… oh gods, Astarion. 

He didn’t have the tadpole. He was out in the sun. 

“Astarion — “ she asked Halsin, “is he okay?”

“He ran into the shadows,” Halsin said evenly, “wherever he is, Gale is with him.”

“But where are they?”

“We haven’t seen them,” Halsin’s brow furrowed. 

“Shadowheart?” Tav asked, eyes clenched shut. 

“Downstairs with the healers.” Rolan assured her.

Tav let out a shuddering breath. “And —“

“Jaheira and Minsc are helping to organize the rebuilding efforts,” Halsin informed her. “You gave us quite the scare,” he smiled a little at her. “You should have mentioned your wounds.”

That’s right. Throughout the adrenaline fueled panic to just keep everyone alive at the very end, Tav had forgotten an intellect devourer had nearly disemboweled her. She had taken quite a few hits besides that as well, shrugged off in the heat of battle. The onslaught of the Netherbrain’s psionic powers had made her brain feel like it would leak out of her ears. All in all, she had been truly fucked up by the end of it all.

“I died.”

Halsin nodded. 

Tav licked her lips, but her tongue was just as dry as her lips. Only a few of their party had to be resuscitated on the road. Withers was there for exactly that, and she never worried too much about it, saving all their resurrection scrolls for allies that Withers had deemed not necessary to maintain in the fight. Only their core group were tied to the ultimate fate, and after that was finished she imagined he had to maintain the balance of life and death. 

“I remember  something pulling me,” she closed her eyes. “Pulling me out of — water? No… it was nothing.”

“A resurrection scroll,” Rolan finally spoke. “I used a resurrection scroll to bring you back.” 

Tav looked over at him, wanting to ease the worry that creased his handsome face. “My hero.”

He closed his eyes, a smile twitching at his lips as he exhaled a breath that might have been a laugh. Her heart felt fit to burst.  “You’re an idiot.”

Tav sat up, a wave of dizziness overcoming her so she toppled to the side. Rolan had a hand on her shoulder, and an arm at her back. Nausea flooded her, and she took a deep breath. 

“It may take some time for you to get your bearings.” Halsin told her. “You were lost to us for quite some time, your body needs to adjust to the shifting states.”

“Not to mention the side effects from the tadpoles being removed,” Rolan added. “Shadowheart’s been struggling with headaches, and fatigue. You need to rest.”

“Can I see her?” 

“She will want to know you’re awake.” Halsin said with a nod and left the room. 

“Where are we? The tower?”

“Yes,” Rolan was trying to ease her down but she wanted to will herself to feel better. 

With a truly pathetic shove she managed to sling her legs over and out of the covers. Her feet slowly met the plush rug that covered the stone floor, and she stood. Well she tried to: she got up to her feet and then felt her legs give out. Rolan grunted as he grabbed her around the waist, tugging her against him to keep her from falling.

“Please, Tav, lay down,” he insisted. 

“I want to see the city,” she pleaded. 

There was an open door to the terrace right there, she could see the clear blue sky of an afternoon. Rolan folded with a sharp sigh and helped steady her as she took a step, then another, weakly and slowly but she was not going to be denied the chance to see it. 

At the railing of the terrace, she gripped it with weak hands, Rolan just behind her with an arm firmly wrapped around her waist. He wasn’t letting her get too close to the edge. The city was in a bad state, many buildings in the lower half were destroyed, and the upper city was near unrecognizable. The tower was tall, but she could see people below. Carrying lumber and stones, running back and forth with supplies, building and walking around. 

“We did it.” She breathed. “We did it.” 

Rolan pulled Tav back into him, face buried in her hair and his tail wrapped around her leg as many times as it could. Perhaps it was the weakness she still felt, but she leaned into him, and he could feel her stuttering breaths with her pressed against his chest. She was crying. His own eyes had been stinging since she looked over at him for the first time in two days, clenched shut every time he thought they might spill over. 

He was so grateful he could hardly find words. 

“You should be laying down,” he ground out past the lump in his throat after a few moments. 

“Okay.” 

But neither of them moved. 

“Can we sit out here ? Just for a little bit?”

Rolan heaved a sigh, more for show than out of true irritation. He helped her maneuver into a chair, and she seemed grateful to be off of her feet. There was only one chair on the terrace, and Rolan found himself standing by it, ready to steady her if needed, afraid to wander too far. Tav took in the feeling of the sun, the sounds of the city below and took a few deep breaths. Rolan could only watch her. 

Her dead gaze had stuck with him, so he tried to replace it with the current view of her eyes scanning the city below. He had  found himself constantly checking that her chest had been moving with breaths while she rested, he was clinging to the proof she was alive and moving around now. Rolan’s tail wrapped around her ankle again, and she leaned over to look at it with a small laugh.

“What are you two lovebirds up to?” 

The new voice had him jumping out of his skin in shock. As if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t, his face flushed a deeper red, his tail unraveling from its grip. 

Shadowheart was in the doorway, a bright grin betraying her teasing tone. “Five months on the road,” she said to Tav, “and you die on me at the last second.”

“Gotta keep you on your toes,” Tav replied. 

“Apology accepted,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes. 

This was a far different reaction to when Tav had been brought into the tower. The reality of the situation was made clear by the true panic in the cleric’s normally calm and detached demeanor. They looked at each other for a moment as if in some silent conversation. After a while Tav ducked her head. 

“Feels strange, not having you bouncing around in my brain,” she said. 

“It’s both a relief and… a loss, somehow. I never thought I’d miss anything about the tadpoles.”

“Guess we just have to talk to each other like normal people, eh?”

Rolan felt he was intruding and went back into the bedroom, taking a moment to recollect himself. Halsin was there, a nod of understanding offered in his direction. Neither of them truly knew the experience of sharing a consciousness, not in that way. It seemed to be something that Gale, Karlach, Wyll, Astarion, Shadowheart, Lae’zel and Tav would always have to bind them.

“Jaheira tells me you’ll be relocating some of the orphaned children near Reithwin,” Rolan cleared his throat. 

“It’s a peaceful place now that the curse has been lifted, and there’s plenty of space for them to grow,” he nodded. “As the Grove was for you, I hope to build a place of refuge for anyone who wishes to leave the city.”

“Whatever you may need for the journey, you need only ask.” 

Halsin thanked him with a nod. “It suits you, this position. Archmage of Baldur’s Gate ,” he smiled a little, “the title should go to someone who has overcome adversity. Someone who knows the value of what he has.”

Rolan was not so certain. “I’m not an archmage yet,” he said. “I still have much to learn.” 

“As you say,” Halsin smiled. 

Rolan looked over his shoulder, out at the terrace where Shadowheart and Tav were still deep in conversation. Rolan knew that whatever they were discussing, was meant for them alone to hear. “The tower has an impressive greenhouse, but I’d like to get an expert's opinion on how to improve it.”

Halsin smiled tiredly, all at once looking like a man who had lived centuries. “Any glimpse of nature  you have to offer would be quite the solace to me.”

“So Selune did hear me,” Shadowheart said quietly, eyes averted. “I had no magic left. I had revivify prepared for this reason but — “ she shook her head. “I prayed she would give me some way to save you.”

“Her and something else certainly heard you,” Tav leaned back. “I almost… don’t know what to do now.” 

“You aren’t doing anything,” Shadowheart admonished. “At least another day or two of rest, then you can think about the future.”

“You’re rested,” Tav smiled. “What will you do?”

“Help around here for a bit longer,” Shadowheart looked over the city. “After that, maybe follow Halsin. He wants to head back towards the mountain pass, taking some refugees with him, I could settle there or… explore.”

“Exploring suits you,”  Tav smiled, “selfishly, I’d wish you wouldn’t go far but… my little Selunite has to spread her wings.”

After a while the afternoon shifted into night, and the two of them sent a quiet prayer of thanks to Selune as the moon rose into the sky. Tav had never been the religious type and their journey had only solidified her resolve to respect the gods from afar. The entire mess of the Absolute had been designed for The Dead Three, Mystra’s involvement had not quite inspired awe in her given that it required one of her best friends killing himself, and everything with Shar spoke for itself. But she appreciated Selune’s more distant approach to aiding them; it certainly had caused them less strife.

Arm looped in Shadowheart’s for sake of steadiness (Tav had an inkling her friend was feeling affectionate but would not admit it) Tav had met with the small group gathered for dinner. Cal barely maintained his composure while he gave her a gentle hug, Lia lingered a little in her arms, while Halsin smiled on. Rolan was hovering nearby, and looked ready to scold his siblings. 

“Don’t crowd her,” he insisted. 

“I don’t mind,” she smiled, patting Lia on the back of the head. “It’s been a rough journey to get here, yeah?” She looked at the tiefling in her embrace who was a bit misty eyed. “But we’re fine! And I’m starving. Being dead works up quite the appetite.”

Everyone but Rolan seemed to find the joke at least a little funny, but she was used to him looking bothered by her. She was happy to see his eye twitch in the face of her jokes. Despite her appetite, after filling her stomach and drinking nearly an entire pitcher of water to herself she was quite sleepy. But there was some business she had to see to. 

“Has anyone looked for Gale and Astarion?”

“There’s been a lot of healing work to do,” Shadowheart said, “wherever they are I’m sure they’re fine.”

“I’d like to see it for myself,” Tav said seriously. “They’re the only ones left, Shadowheart, I want to know they’re okay.”

Shadowheart shook her head a little. “I can start a search party, but I wouldn’t know where to start.”

Tav didn’t like this answer. “If it were us —“

“No,” Shadowheart cut her off. “You died. It was just me, Halsin, Jaheira and Minsc. They know there’s only so many places we could be — and they still haven’t turned up.”

It hurt to hear it said out loud. Tav was trying not to be selfish, but Shadowheart was right. It did feel a bit like the two had abandoned them. At least Karlach, Wyll and Lae’zel had an excuse for leaving moments after their victory. The sun went down every night, Astarion and Gale could have made their way back days ago. 

Shadowheart specifically must have felt slighted. The late arrival of Halsin, Jaheira and Minsc did not make them any less a part of the team but Astarion and Gale were the first they had met after the nautiloid crash. The four of them had been together since day one of the nightmare. For them to just go missing on her when she needed them most had to sting. 

Aware of the tension in the room, Tav offered a tired smile, not wanting to drag the conversation out any longer. “Alright.”

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” Shadowheart frowned. 

“I’m not in charge anymore,” Tav sighed as she rubbed at her eyes, “and I’m too tired to argue right now. When I’m all rested, I’ll figure something out.”

For a minute, it looked like Shadowheart was trying to concentrate on something, brow furrowing with the attempt. And then blinked a few times as if she caught herself. 

“There’s no more tadpoles, Shadowheart,” Tav found herself laughing a bit, “can’t poke around in each other's heads anymore.”

“I know — I forgot,” she shook her head. 

“I think,” Halsin said, “it’s time for you to rest, Tav. You’re still —“

“Recovering, yeah, I know.” She stood up from the table. 

A loud scraping sound happened the moment she got to her feet as Rolan rose from his chair suddenly, nearly knocking it over. “I’ll walk you.”

“Thank you.” Tav said with raised eyebrows, seeing Lia cover her face and Cal grin out of the corner of her eye. “Goodnight, everyone.”

Rolan did not ask, but simply placed her arm in the crook of his elbow as he led her out. The tower was big, and as the halls went on she was more and more looking forward to laying down in a bed. Her strength felt sapped still, her legs a bit wobbly after sitting for so long. The food in her stomach satiated her, but it brought with it the desire to close her eyes. 

“I can’t wait to feel normal again,” she said. 

“No need to rush,” he replied. 

“There’s a lot to do,” Tav insisted. “And I’m useless.”

“Gods forbid the Savior of the Gate stop for once.”

“That title has a nice ring to it, when did you come up with that?”

“I didn’t,” he smiled, “it’s what everyone is calling you and your friends. The Saviors of the Gate.”

“Oh.”

They certainly had received a lot of thanks and praises over the last few months. For everyone in such a big city to know her name, to be discussing the journey she and her friends had been on was odd. She was not quite sure how she felt about being so… known. 

As he led her into the same room she had woken in, she slid onto the bed with a groan. She shuffled until she was under the covers, taking deep contented breaths as she buried her face in the pillows. This bed was more heavenly than even her own back home, and she was so grateful for it.

“Are all the beds in the tower this comfy?”

“Knowing Lorroakan, he probably saved the best for himself,” Rolan said.

“That must be your new bed,” Tav turned over to look at him. “Is it heaven? Just a big magical cloud of relaxation?”

“Erm,” Rolan shifted on his feet. “It is, yes, but —“ he cleared his throat, “but you’ll have to tell me. You’ve been sleeping in it.”

Tav was confused. “This is your bed?”

“It is.”

“You gave up your bed for me?” Tav asked, “why?”

Rolan stood somewhat awkwardly, hands at his sides. “I wanted you to be comfortable.”

“That’s sweet,” Tav smiled. “Are you sure you’re not a doppleganger? Did some straggling Bhaalists get to you?”

He eased up at the teasing, looking more comfortable. “I’ll remember not to show you any consideration in the future. Such a lack of gratitude.” He was smiling. 

“You’re one to talk about lacking gratitude,” she smiled back, eyes closed now. She was so tired. “I can never win with you.”

“And yet here you are in my bed, while I toss and turn in a guest room.”

“Poor Rolan,” she replied. “So very put out by his little hero.”

“Indeed.”

He was shutting off again, she could tell by the closed tone. “I am sorry,” she replied, eyes opening, “I honestly do feel like I’ve put everyone out.”

“You saved the city,” he looked befuddled. “You died saving it.”

“Could have done better,” she muttered. Her thoughts going to Karlach and Wyll, and to Astarion now confined to the shadows. 

“We both know that’s far from the truth,” he said softly. “I — I thought it wouldn’t work — the resurrection.”

“I worried you.” 

Part of her knew in the back of her mind that was true, but he was such a hard puzzle to figure out. Sometimes she was sure he thought of her the same way she did of him. But he always was at arms length, never giving more than a hint and then closing off immediately after. ‘You’ll come back to me,’ he had told her in the high hall. As if she was his. 

“Worried,” he repeated, a half laugh in amazement. “Yes, I would rather say you did.”

“Sorry.” 

“Stop apologizing, go to sleep,” he insisted. 

“Will you stay? Just for a little bit?”

The thought of being left alone was overwhelming, she had not spent a night alone in months. Rolan searched her face for a moment, then sat on the bed, turned towards her. For a moment he looked unsure what to do with his hands, before deciding to fold them in his lap, his tail flicking gently behind him on the covers. Thanking him quietly, she let herself drift off, eyes closed so she couldn’t see his unwavering gaze on her. 

Tav was bouncing back quickly, he was pleased to see. She had gone from only being able to draft a letter to her mother before needing to lay down for the rest of the day to walking around the upper levels of the tower on her own.  But she was starting to get restless after a day or two. Now that she could stand on her own two feet without someone’s support, she was hard to contain. She had been blocked off from the bottom floor of the tower, since no one trusted her not to get roped into some rebuilding effort before she was ready. 

Rolan was busier than ever. He only had a handful of staff to assist him, and all of them were running around the city to help the recovery efforts. Despite the circumstances and the less than gentle way Jaheira had put it, Rolan realized quickly she had been right about taking on the duty of the city’s Archmage. The tower was a central point in the city, the main source of magical wares and a trove of information.

Rolan didn’t want it to be a museum, he wanted it to be a resource. 

At the end of the day, he would dine with Tav, his siblings and Shadowheart. Halsin joined them every once in a while, but he had given his word to assess just how many orphans were running unattended in the ruined city streets. He was also the only one Yenna would come out of the Elfsong suite for, and he had to make sure she was looked after and fed. After dinner and a healthy amount of wine amongst the small group, Tav had asked him if he had anything that could help get her to the hells. 

Alarm bells rang off in his mind. “We can look into it.” He offered as diplomatically as he knew how. 

“Her engine won’t last here,” Shadowheart reminded Tav. 

There was a stubborn look on Tav’s face, and she replied. “I just want to look into it.”

That night Rolan poured over the library with her.There were portals, an easy enough thing to figure out, but Tav wanted a solution for Karlach’s engine. Infernal engineering was hardly his expertise, and Dammon was up to his horns in work. Rolan also already knew that the blacksmith had exhausted his knowledge to make it so Karlach could touch people once more, making the engine stable in the material plane was, as far as he knew, not possible. 

“I don’t understand any of this,” Tav muttered. 

“Your many talents don’t include infernal engineering?”

“Not yet,” she arched a brow at the book in her hands. 

“Perhaps after things settle down,” Rolan offered, “Dammon could look further into it.” 

It was a poor attempt to make her let it go, even temporarily. And she saw straight through it. 

“You’re trying to placate me,” she narrowed her eyes at him. “You don’t think I can do it.”

“What I think you're capable of is irrelevant. You are not a smithy of any kind, and have no firsthand knowledge of the hells let alone the machinery built specifically to withstand its atmosphere,” Rolan said evenly. “I understand the pressure you feel, but you’re one person —“

“No, you don’t understand,” she snapped. “I wasn’t just one person, I was seven. You don’t know what it’s like to feel someone else’s fear as if it were your own, their sadness and joy — to experience their darkest memories, as if you’ve lived them yourself. They trusted me, they looked to me to keep them safe, to keep us on the right path — “ she stopped to take a deep breath, eyes closing as a shaky exhale forced its way out and gave away how affected she was. “Karlach and Wyll should be here.”

Rolan felt the sting of her words deeper than he wanted to admit. An ugly jealousy reared its head; all but one of the six had left her and he was right there and that still wasn’t enough. He never seemed to be up to the task. The urge to lash out was strong; helpless against the scratching in his chest he felt himself get angry. 

“I’ll leave you to your research,” he said shortly. 

The silence was only filled by his footsteps on the tile floor as he made his way out. He passed Shadowheart in the hall as she made her way to her room for the night, offering only a curt nod in her direction as he picked up his pace to avoid conversation. His temper was quickly slipping, and he was sure he’d snap at the next person who would make eye contact with him. He made it to his borrowed room and slammed the door shut behind him. His tail flicked back and forth in sharp, angry movements, hitting the wood of the door with heavy thumps. He needed a distraction. 

Rolan sat at the desk in the small guest room which he had taken to since insisting Tav take the master suite. He grabbed his spell book, dug into the desk drawer for a quill and some ink and opened to his most recent page. Unfinished notes about a telekinesis spell, something he wanted to try to modify to control the trajectory of an object rather than just send it flying backwards. 

A thin chain was nestled in the gutter of the book, carefully attached to his ribbon place marker. The dangling pearl hung over the edge. When she had asked him to keep it safe he knew it needed to be with the one thing he always had with him, and took the greatest care of. His finger ran over the pearl and he winced. 

Gods, I’m a fool, he thought as he flipped to another page. 

Despite the fact that the very mention of her group had sent him into a jealous fervor, and that he was really rather irritated with her, he knew immediately what might cheer her up. And he was not going to stop the impulse to do it. He never did. It felt like insanity. He tried and tried to be exactly what he thought she wanted and never felt it was enough. Time and time again, he went against every instinct of self-preservation he had clung to so desperately his entire life to try and let himself fall further for her. 

Rolan carefully read his notes, going over the incantation, double checking his components, and practicing the hand movements. Once he was more confident he knew what to do, he cast Sending for the first time in his life, thinking hard on the recipient. The rush of the weave molding to his whim sparked the usual comfort, this time punctuated by the hum of the spell awaiting his message. 

“Gale, it’s Rolan. Where the bloody hells have you two been? We are awaiting your hasty return. Tav and Shadowheart are currently at the tower.”

He let some of his irritation bleed into the message. If anyone deserved a bit of his ire, it was those two. Then he waited. The hum of the spell still resonated in his mind as the connection stayed and awaited the reply. 

“Ah, Sending! Clever.” Gale’s downright chipper voice broke through. “Astarion and I were simply working on a solution to — ow! My love, please, I only have twenty-five words! Now, Rolan we —“

The spell cut out, Gale having used a good chunk of his limited verbiage to scold Astarion. Rolan felt a throb in his temple, and rubbed at it. Gale was thus far the most admirable and well-learned wizard he knew. He respected the man more than he could say, but even he was prone to making Rolan question the sanity of Tav’s entire operation. To think the world had been in their hands, only they were truly crazy enough to pull it off, he believed. At the very least he could assure Tav the two were alive and well. 

A gentle humming of weave wrapped around him, and in his ear as if the man was right in front of him, Rolan heard Gale’s voice. 

“Apologies! Astarion and I will make our way to the tower shortly, we have much to discuss. Expect us tomorrow! How are Tav and Shadowheart?”

Rolan clenched his teeth, and spoke out loud. “They’re both safe now, no thanks to you. Forewarning, neither are pleased with you two. You’d better come up with a good excuse. Good evening.”

There was not another message. Rolan felt a sense of satisfaction in letting them sweat in the knowledge that their friends were waiting on them. It had been hard to see Shadowheart struggle with being the last of the original six on her feet, and the two had been one of the first things Tav had asked about when she finally awoke. 

It had been nearly a week with no word. He was certain Tav would not have been so harsh with him earlier were her friends there with her. The ache of jealousy still settled in his chest, he wanted nothing more than to go back to the study and be near her but pride was preventing him from walking out of the door. 

He went back to his spell book, ready to make more notes on the new discoveries from the sending spell and finish working on his telekinesis alterations. Whenever he paused to think or stopped to read over his notes, his thumb  gently rubbed over the pearl still dangling there.

Tav felt horrible about what she said. After Rolan left her alone in the study, she tried to read more about infernal steelwork through tear blurred eyes. Another thing to add to her pile of failures, festering in the pool of guilt that seemed permanently settled in her stomach. 

Immediately she wanted to apologize. Her temper could be quick but she knew when she was wrong. Tav went to the door, looking out into the hallway, but it was empty. She had no idea what room he was staying in, since he insisted she kept using his for the time being. Unable to do anything else, she went back to the book she had found and read it until her eyes ached. 

The next day Rolan was not at breakfast. Everyone had stopped their hovering, after a few days of rest and recovery from the battle and her return from death, Tav felt almost entirely back to her old self. When she came down into the shop section of the tower for the first time, she was surprised to see it set up as a sort of healing center. Shadowheart informed her that compared to the night after battle the place was much less crowded. 

 Shadowheart joined as Jaheira walked Tav through the city, discussing the rebuilding efforts. As before the attack, the upper city was closed off, the efforts to salvage the destroyed streets had apparently been well underway before anyone official besides Florrick paid attention to the lower city. 

A good chunk of the patriars and nobles had been murdered at Gortash’s coronation. Their heirs were all banded together to be the new saviors of the city, buying first the love of the richest by repairing their streets first. It was clear that the new favorites in the lower city were the Harper’s, Florick and even the new master of Ramazith’s Tower. 

She was told of his efforts to keep open the doors of his home as a refuge, and even some stories of him running around the morning after the battle to help wherever he could. Pride welled up in her, even if he was not speaking to her currently, she was so pleased to hear him praised that she could hardly keep from smiling. 

Despite Shadowheart’s hesitance, Tav volunteered to immediately start getting to work. It felt good to do something besides force herself to walk around the tower until she got too tired to continue. Shadowheart had taken on a lot while Tav was recovering, including informing a grieved Duke Ravenguard about the whereabouts of his son. Tav felt the need to make up for it. 

Outside of the shop in the square, Tav decided to try using some magic to fix up a broken wall. Stoneshape was a hard spell, but it felt good to use her magic. Once the exhaustion wore off it bubbled inside of her, crackling to be used, or to find a way out of her. On the road the tadpole often kept it under better control than she ever had alone and it had countless opportunities to lash out given all the fighting they had done. 

Gale had always been kind about it, but he mentioned more than once a bit of wizarding education to keep it under control would not hurt. She knew better than anyone he was right. Even with his help she still felt it crack and pull at her when she was particularly upset. 

The only thing that ever controlled it was to exhaust it. Use it all up until there was only the vague hum beneath her veins. She had gotten used to using pointless little spells in her everyday life to satiate its crackling need to fly out of her. Stone shaping buildings back together was a quite useful thing, she thought, given how deeply she was feeling guilt. 

An earth myrmidon came up next to her, its faceless head turned to help her with her task. She looked over her shoulder, trying to find its summoner. Her eyes caught black and amber, Rolan standing not too far off, but he quickly looked away. She kept watching, more of his summoned elementals were clearing rubble, an animated set of armor carrying new building materials to groups of people hammering away. All under his focused gaze as he waved his hands and used his magic to clean up her mess. 

Unable to stop herself, she came over to inspect his work. Arms crossed over her chest in a show of consideration as she tilted her head. 

“Master Rolan, you are making quite a name for yourself in this city,” she teased lightly. “How charitable, and generally decent of you to offer your services in this trying time.”

“How benevolent of you to notice,” he replied dryly. “Quite the compliment from the Savior of the Gate. I’ve been rather busy while you’ve been lazing away in the tower.”

“Well, I can’t be outdone,” she smiled. “I have a reputation as a hero, you know.”

“I do know,” Rolan’s lip twitched, fighting a smile. “All too well.”

“Rolan —“

“Astarion! What the hells are you doing?” 

Tav turned quickly at Shadowheart’s panicked voice. There in the street was Astarion, next to a grinning Gale, in broad daylight. Her heart nearly stopped at the sight and she was running towards them, Shadowheart having the same idea. There had to be something she could cast, something to block him from the sun, but her mind was coming up short. 

But as she approached, he wasn’t burning. There was no ashen haze over his face, his eyes were bright and… blue. 

“Don’t make a scene, darling,” Astarion said, but he seemed very nearly bashful. 

In fact, a soft pink blush was rising on his cheeks. His skin, though still pale, had a  glow to it. She’d grown so used to the marble like pallor of his skin, the undertones of pink made her feel like she was looking at a stranger. 

“You’re — how?”

“True resurrection!” Gale supplied gleefully at his side. “One of the only known cures for vampirism.” 

“How in the hells did you manage that?” Shadowheart was looking wide eyed at Astarion, while Tav touched his warm cheek. 

“Due to the nature of the orb, I acquired a scroll very early on in my isolation,” Gale explained, animated as ever. “As I pose no risk to any surrounding cities any longer, I found a much better use for it.”

“I’ve been so worried about you two,” Tav frowned. 

“You had a resurrection scroll this entire time?” Shadowheart snapped. 

“Well, yes —“ Gale’s mouth shut tight at Shadowheart’s blazing gaze. He looked to Tav confusedly. 

“I had some pretty bad wounds —“

“She died.” Shadowheart cut her off. “Bled out right on the dock after you two ran off, and I had no magic left. If Rolan hadn’t had a scroll at the tower —“

“But he did,” Tav interrupted, at the stricken look on Gale’s face. “It's okay, I’m fine.”

“It’s my fault,” Astarion said, a frown on his face as he refused to meet their eyes. Since he was not usually one to come close to apologizing, it made both Shadowheart and Tav give their full attention.  “I was… well, I thought I lost my time in the sun.” 

“Even if I didn’t come back,” Tav said, “I couldn't be angry at you for this.” She sniffled a little, “welcome back to mortality. You don’t look a day over 200.”

“Stop, you’ll make me blush,” Astarion preened. “Which is still the oddest sensation, all that warmth.” He touched his face.

“Given how long you two were gone I imagine you’ve rediscovered just how warm you can get,” Tav teased. 

“I’m so sorry,” Gale said, wincing. “I’d assumed we were all in the clear.”

There was a silence and Astarion’s new eyes looked to Tav and then Shadowheart. “It’s really just us now, isn’t it?”

“For now,” Tav smiled sadly. “Quiet, isn’t it?”

“Odd. And… well, I won’t say I miss you all in the back of my mind but,” he frowned a little, “it was something, wasn’t it?”

She didn’t need the tadpole to know they all understood. Tav yanked Astarion into a hug, but it took a few moments for him to return the gesture. She flailed her hand around to find Gale’s sleeve and pulled him in too. Shadowheart looked like she was going to stubbornly ignore Gale’s outstretched arm but Astarion rolled his eyes. 

“If we are doing group hugs you can’t make me endure it alone,” he said to her. 

Shadowheart gave in, and no one mentioned the tears rolling down her cheek. Astarion’s heartbeat was in her ear, Gale’s hair tickled her face, and Shadowheart was smashed against her side with a desperate grip on her shirt. The fact they were all in each other’s head had made their time together intimate regardless of whether they wanted it to be or not. In the absence of it, Tav was ready to claim whatever closeness to them she could. 

“Can we get a victory drink now?”

There had been a small celebration at the Elfsong after the emotional reunion in the square. Rolan gave them their space. On the outside of her life, as he always seemed to be. A bittersweet contentment was living in his chest, to see her so happy and feeling that he had no place in her celebration. 

But he was not going to be the one who brought down the mood of the evening. He, afterall, had much to be grateful for as he spent the night drinking with his siblings, Alfira and Lakrissa. Some of the others from the caravan had even come out. By the end of the night, he made sure the very drunk heroes made it up to their suite and returned to the tower. 

Now that she was settled in with her friends, he had his bedroom back. When he laid down, his pillows still smelled of her. He loved it. He loved her. For so many days he had avoided calling it what it was, even in his own mind. He would admit to himself that she was as dear to him as his siblings, he would admit that he wanted her - sometimes so badly it felt like he was being burned alive, but calling it love seemed to be a nail in a coffin. 

Because Tav obviously wanted him in some way. She trusted him with her most prized possession, she asked him on a date before running off to save the world, and she was always looking for ways to bother him. But be it an Elderbrain, death itself, or some slip of the tongue that nearly started an argument it never seemed to come to anything. 

Rolan drifted off to sleep that night trying to figure out why. 

In the morning, he busied himself in the tower. There was still so much to do, and he had spent most of the past week running around the city. Eventually, the Sorcerer’s Sundries would have to reopen, and he had a lot to change around the upper levels of the tower. It saved his pride to be away from questions about Tav, and it was a temporary distraction. 

“There you are,” Cal came up sheepishly. “I know you said not to bother you — “

“And yet here you are.”

“There’s a lady down stairs,” Cal began. “She won’t go away, and she keeps asking for Tav.”

“You can tell her that the Saviors of Baldur's gate aren’t at the beck and call of any civilian who fancies meeting them,” Rolan grumbled, “and the Master of Ramazith’s Tower is not their secretary.”

“Rolan,” Cal called for his attention seriously. “She says she’s Tav’s mother.”

Thank you for reading!

#rolan x tav #rolan x oc #rolan fanfic #holy rolan empire #olly writes

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

oh yea um

Sundown "Sunny" Summer (lazy) ref!

#IM FINALLY HAPPY WITH HER COLORS!!!! #SORRY ABOUT THE STARS. I WAS IN SALLY MODE AND FORGOT WHAT NORMAL STAR SHAPES ARE #AND IM TOO LAZY TO GO BACK AND FIX IT <3 #also shoutout to akemi for inspiring the lil chains connecting the stars. pure Genius if i may! #but yes! she finally looks like a sunset! #and she'll mesh with ryan better <3 #her legs wont disappear when she rides him!!! #scribble salad #forced idiots <3 #oc #original character #puppet oc #my beloved little showman <3 #there are so many things wrong with her <3 #i cant believe the worst people ever are going to simultaneously fix her and make her Worse in new fun festive ways....

[subpar-celestial]

✨ fish✨

#monster high #lagoona blue #monster high gen 3 #ignore the background #it’s hideous I know #but I need to get into the habit of actually drawing them #for improvements sake #I am pretty upset with the new designs #like I know many others are #lagoonas especially so #don’t get me wrong she’s really pretty and I had fun drawing her #but to me that’s just not lagoona #like I’d be totally for it if it was a separate character #but my brain can’t see that as my girl #but it is what it is #and all things considered as I said she doesn’t look bad #the only one who I hateeeee is heath #they keep doing my boy wrong #my art

[aroaceleovaldez]

HoO is so funny to me when you actually think about the ages of all the characters. Octavian is 18. Percy and Annabeth are 16, almost 17. Reyna is presumably 16. Frank just turned 16, Jason’s about to turn 16. Leo and Piper are like 15. Hazel’s like 14 and a half, and Nico is 13.

The Death Sibs are both the youngest and oldest on the Argo II. Octavian is a college freshman getting into petty drama with a bunch of high schoolers. He gets told to shut up at one point by a random 8th grader. Everyone is scared of the 8th grader. We Sent A 13 Year Old To Superhell and he came back weirder, Just Like Middle School. TLH was just three high school sophomores being sent to do a task and it going Exactly Like You’d Expect. Percy’s the only demigod on the ship who can legally drive (though Reyna gets her drivers license at some point before TOA). What Is Happening.

#pjo #hoo #heroes of olympus #riordanverse #my second favorite thing related to this is like every time Hazel references someone's age especially in SoN it's just. blatantly incorrect. #she goes into very specific detail about how she's 14. detailing like exactly how many months it had been since her birthday #and when she died and when she was brought back. just like ''okay. im 14 and a half. got that? good.'' #''anyways here's Frank. he's 3 years older than me'' like literal next chapter. we are told Frank is not 3 years older than her. #Hazel: Here's my older brother! [Nico is younger than her in literally every way feasible] #ive just decided Hazel is an unreliable narrator who is just really bad at guessing/remembering how old people are #which like. adhd mood. forgetting how old everybody is. #and she has the bonus excuse of saying her sense of time is skewed from being a ghost for so long #but it's just so funny every time she's just. with the upmost confidence. blatantly the wrong answer. #i want a scene of Hazel looking at Percy and just going ''hm. I bet he's like 20.'' and then learns he's 16 #and she's just [surprised pikachu] #also we know it isn't an error that she's 14 cause in TOA she's like ''oh yeah im learning to drive!'' #so she's 15 by then #it is however an error that *Nico* is said to be 14 in hoo cause he's 12 in TLO and 14 in TOA #but we know in HoO the reason that error was made was cause Rick hadn't figured out Nico's birthday yet #and he was flipping it between January or March #so he just forgot how old Nico is for a series and then we went back to normal

[blueskittlesart]

Feel free to ignore this but as someone who also goes to art school, I find it really interesting how other art schools also have a “don’t date your peers” sort of faux pa. Like so many people I know (including me) refuse to date anyone else who goes to my college 😭

I wonder why that is tbh, small school thing maybe?

being so serious i didn't have anything against dating other art school peers when i first came here and i think most freshmen dont but once you have one or two art school relationships under your belt you realize why all the upperclassmen avoid dating each other like the plague

#it sounds so good on the surface. like when am i ever going to find this many lesbians concentrated into one place at the same time #but unfortunately in order to go to art school you need to be 1. in your 20s and 2. have something wrong with you #also especially as you get into years 3-4 i think maintaining a relationship just becomes SO hard. bc we're all in the trenches #AND ALSO. from experience. this school is SO small that you CANNOT avoid your exes. if it ends badly fuck you you have 4 classes with her #anyway obviously this doesnt stop me from looking for. things. on tinder. i just dont swipe right on anyone i recognize from class #and it ALSO does not stop you from WANTING to date people in your classes. this tinder girl is nowhere near my first art school crush i jus #do not act on them anymore <3 lmfao #that being said tinder girl if youre reading this i didnt mean any of it baby you're so pretty and im so stable please dm me

[hauntswitch]

Im so sorry but the L word is absolutely fucking hilarious - none of these women have an ounce of morality between them and yet they're all somehow still loveable characters. Despite the atrocities. And the bad 2000s haircuts. And the deeply questionable fashion choices.

#shane your haircuts mean the world to me this isnt about you sweetie #also in general sorry but alice's chart? so unethical but so fucking funny just as a concept #bette and tina? their whole NINE SEASON thing? hilarious #alice liking a uniform? so funny #helena peabody going from being so awful in her first season to suddenly becoming the most pathetic sweetheart as soon as season 3 starts?? #funny as hell #jenny schecter's whole thing?? the random dream things? her becoming more gradually insane? man. i could never ever hate her even though #the writers tried so hard to make her unlikeable and evil #marina being a central character in season one then the writers deciding to have her drive into a fucking hotel then leave for italy or #some shit? what the fuck! also Jodi did nothing wrong ever and she didnt deserve all that. also Dana broke my fucking heart #anyway im losing what i was rambling about here... anyway would i recommend the L word? probably not lol it has so so so many problems #but despite that - all the characters became so important to me despite how batshit and bad this show was. #the l word