#RoLo they could never take me from you

[bruciemilf]

That life is not this one.

[patopq]

Hey so this is my list of Molly character traits i gathered through talks and various sources Thought it could help anyone figuring out how to write molly, if you even care? Take this however you want, ill just leave this here

These are factual shit taliesin or others said about him, my personal opinions or notes are between the [ ] thingies

(in case someone wants the source of X thing, just ask me)

• contrary to percy de rolo (who is trying to find his place in the world) molly ALREADY found his place in the world, the world has to contourt around him and he's not changing anything about himself, fuck all

• he has a clear, strong moral code that he follows strictly, even if his actions seem random. [and thats why i dont consider him "chaotic" in the alignment chart, even if he SEEMS chaotic]

• talking about alignment, he also doesnt have any, he def doesnt fit into the "lawful" category, but also "neutral" doesnt sound like him, which makes sense because taliesin based molly (among other things) around the idea of a character NOT being able to fit into the alignment chart, as if if he ever picked a weapon that only worked for people of certain alignment, the weapon would never work with him. Everything explodes [this is all mentioned in the m9 wrap up, regarding mollys creation]

• molly doesnt want to be lonely / is lowk afraid of being so. He doesnt know what its like to be alone because he literally has no memory of ever being so; he has always been in company. And so he's NOT eager to find out.

• he likes complex group dynamics because he's used to them, so being with the nein feels comfortable. (Taliesin said, he literally just went from shifty group to another shifty-unhealthy-group) Still, he knows theres some shit they have to work out in terms of "you fuck everybody over, but THIS group of people you dont fuck with"

• to the previous point, molly is very serious about the little group he has, be it the circus or the nein, you DONT fuck this people over, you may start a war with the dynasty, but THIS group you dont fuck with, and i believe molly has explicitly said this himself (i think around ep12. not the dynasty part though, he doesnt know what a kingdom is in the first place)

• hes damn functionally illiterate, dont care about books, and hes not that bright [*looks at that 10 int*]

• hes a classisist (no explanation needed. I also am not going to rewatch 26 episodes rn to psychoanalyse this part of him. Give me 2 years)

• he doesnt care about anybody's backstory, he doesnt have one, "doesnt see the point in the mess" he will wait until you ACTUALLY do something fucked up and then we'll see [taliesin said that he doesnt think thats a good way of thinking,, but well. NEVER think that their dnd characters are right, ever]

• he didnt learn any name of any Town he went to "because WHY. BOTHER." [This is very conected to the whole illiterate deal, he really doesn't know anything about the world and doesnt care (take for example this moment)]

• he's his own moral compass. He's the center of his own moral reality. He's a deep believer of "I am smart enough to not do anything wrong UNLESS its entirely by accident. So anything i do on purpose cant possibly be wrong because i'm never a wrong person" [yes, thats fucked up LMAO, & im quoting this from taliesin]

• he has a "experience everything" mentality because of the fact that he lost an unknown number of years of his life, and suspects that his past will eventually come and bite his ass and.. he probably wont survive it. so he doesnt think he will be here for long

• theres a definite fear of mortality (?said taliesin) [which is weird since i thought he didnt care? aw man, now his death is even sadder -> this was written when i wasnt over molly's death, okay?]

• he thinks all tm9 is attractive "this is a very shaggable group" [-said taliesin in a panel-]

• he takes advantage in people making assumptions about him and hes comfortable with it meaning, if you're a weirdo who enters a room, the way people react about you, tells YOU all you need to know about THEM [In case its not clear, skip this if it is: if when people see you the first thing they do is side-eye you and make assumptions about you, then you easily learn you dont even need to engage with them, "why talk with someone who makes assumptions abt ppl like that? They've got problems"]

• he was a BAD roommate. Take this however you want, but for example, he would be casually naked, [at least often enough for taliesin to say this]

There are more things, if i didnt add them, i probably just didnt even think about adding because i thought of them as obvious, or i actually missed it.

[rolotouto]

SRW DD: Rolo becomes a bird

Remember this post? I'd still been checking playthroughs of Super Robot Wars DD now and then, but only recently found out that Rolo died at least a couple months ago already. Most of his lines up to his final scenes are the same as R2's, but there's some small differences that I want to talk about below. By the way, since I don't think the following screenshot needs its own post, Fukkatsu's story was wrapped up last week in Lost Stories, and Rolo's spirit could be seen saving Nunnally together with Euphy (Shirley is there too, but she holds Lelouch):

Back to SRW DD:

I said most of his lines are the same as R2's, but the events themselves are more similar to the movies, because Shirley never dies. The biggest difference is that in SRW DD there's a noticeable time gap between Turns 18 and 19: Lelouch doesn't completely lose his will to live after Nunnally "goes missing," as he nonetheless wants to defeat Charles, so the story continues with Lelouch still keeping Rolo and the others around after FLEIJA. He never flies into a rage at Rolo (except for the "Don't lie to me!" moment during that phone call, but that's it). So Lelouch/Zero has been pretending that he's fine for some time (days? Weeks?), but he does miss Nunnally:

C.C.: That locket... It's pretty.

Kallen: Rolo, whenever something happens, you often grasp it tightly, huh?

Rolo: I calm down when I hold this. Because it's what I really wanted... The precious birthday present that I received from Brother. (They are so friendly! Cute)

Lelouch: No... That was something to give Nunnally...

Rolo: Eh?

Lelouch: ...!

Rolo: Wasn't it a present for me? (Turn 19.02's Rolo was very aware that Lelouch's kindness wasn't for him. This Rolo is a bit slow instead.)

Lelouch: ...

Kallen: (Lelouch... It seemed like he had recovered, but he's been carrying the loss of Nunnally all this time, after all…)

Lelouch: Sorry, please forget what I just said. Rolo, the fact that you are my precious little brother doesn't change.

Rolo: Brother... (Hello, Geass writers, will Rolo ever be allowed to smile for more than 10 seconds?!) While this conversation is taking place, Schneizel and the Black Knights are talking. Soon they are all going to turn against Zero. And that's when...

Rolo: Yes. I rescued you from that place with my barrier of absolute suspension. Rolo rescues Lelouch, except in this version, there hasn't yet been any scene of Lelouch telling Rolo that he hates him!

Lelouch: So that was it, indeed. Rolo, don't overuse that power.

Rolo: It's okay. At any rate, I'm going to protect you no matter what. (Rolo, "daijoubu" doesn't mean "I'm ready to give up my life"...) Cornelia and Anya attack, and Lelouch gets more worried:

Lelouch: Using your Geass over such a large area...! Rolo, your heart won't be able to take it anymore...!

Rolo: Don't stop me, Brother! I...!

Lelouch: Stop, Rolo! I... hate you!

Rolo: !?

Lelouch: You can't replace Nunnally! I don't need you anymore! So... Holy tsundereness, they managed to make Lelouch's "I hate you" adorable?! In this context, he's clearly only saying that to stop Rolo from sacrificing himself, and he even adds "So..." at the end, to make it more obvious that he means "So stop using your Geass!" But, unlike that IF route from Taisen Z Saisei-hen, this Super Robot Wars won't spare Rolo's life:

Rolo: ... That can't be, Brother. Because... Rolo's and Lelouch's lines afterwards are the same as R2's, the only difference being that, in this story, Lelouch didn't say that he wanted to kill Rolo.

Rolo: It's a lie, right? That you hate me... ---

I hope that, next time, I can translate something which isn't about Rolo dying, but for now, I'm happy that this Lelouch kind of stayed nice to Rolo all throughout the story.

[fyeahstormandwolvie]

So I've been drawn back to Storm 3... and I wanted to ask your opinion on the panel with Ororo and Rouge and the way some people are reading the panel as if Ororo is ashamed and disgusted by sleeping with Logan.

maybe I'm in too deep lol but knowing the rolo dynamic and knowing not only how close & understanding they are of each other but how they keep their relationship lowkey... that panel doesn't read as regretful to me at all. Ororo mentions that she set a path for herself... similar to how logan always has in the past, when they have their mind set on something they don't let anything stand in their way especially. to me the only thing I think ororo regrets is being open to be with him in that way again knowing she was leaving when the week ended even if Doom didn't send for her. She wants to be there with her x-family, with logan... but she set a path for herself, she announced herself to the world and it would feel wrong (to her) to push that all to the side just to relax with the people she loves... very similar to how logan is lol.

Murewa left that panel with so many ways for people to interpret it. I find it interesting that people concluded that Ororo is disgusted with sleeping with logan when the last panel shows Ororo looking sorrowful and saying "I'm sorry logan". if she felt bad for sleeping with him I'm very sure she would have told him before leaving... as if they hadn't slept together before, as if they haven't run off and handled business in the past, as if they both don't understand that when it comes to them being together they take any time they can get cause there's never enough time for them... shes sorry for having to leave not for sleeping with him LMFAO!

the narrator specifically explains the situation as "matters of the heart" and singles out logan as "her old lover" and the rest as her friends. the dialogue on the last day of fighting basically reads as "you know me and i know you", the way rolo love to bond by fighting... even with her situation, she could have spent the entire issue with Kurt and Remy, getting to know the kids... i just feel like the issue was very intentional whether it was to give us closure from the last time they were together or to give us some sort of foundation for the future for whatever could come about with them... do i think anything will happen with them soon, no. but i feel like there's potential for something to grow. i don't think this is the last time we'll see Logan in this comic... this is the first time (i think) we've seen them together where Ororo is in control of how the relationship moves, its usually the other way around.

Let's not even talk about how Logan probably definitely heard the whole conversation btw Ororo and the bird, Ororo and Rouge... again if you don't know the dynamic you'd read it as if it was a one-night stand but we know he trusts her enough to take care of herself and knows she'll call if she needs help... which is why he was so calm when he specifically called out Rogue in the morning and asked her if Ororo left... they both know why she left and how she felt before leaving.

idk... sorry for rambling lmfao but it just rubbed me the wrong way that people would rather claim ororo was out of her mind and dumb that she would just fuck Logan, her close friend and it be normal for her to be disgusted by sleeping with someone she trusts... cause if that was the case she could have just slept with anyone else... lmao

Hi! Always happy to chat about things like this (and welcome people to chime in in the replies/reblogs!) - I like that Murewa doesn't spell everything out for us, and we can make our own interpretations based on the text and the context of the art and what happened!

I don't think she's ashamed or disgusted that it happened at all, and that's saying it even without a biased lens. She might have regrets, which I think tracks with her tendency to overthink literally everything (she has so many Thoughts, All The Time - I think she's on record as having the most internal thought thought-bubbles throughout the Claremont run), and maybe she regrets that it happened on a whim, during a visit that she knows won't even last that long. She only planned to be around for a week, and she sleeps with him on a spur of the moment? Knowing that she'll leave in like a day (on this case, sooner than a day lol) because her current plan is to idk.. establish herself as a solo and unattached/uncommitted to the brand even if she's literally safest with the X-Men haha

I don't think they'll get together for real either, not now. I do think j she's gonna get (ironically) the Wolverine treatment where she's single and unattached so that she can have different relationship dynamics with different people. Like Batman and Spider-Man get similar treatment and can run into exes and maybe-lovers all the time. She's hot, and free! Let us see her how she'll navigate being the most wanted woman in the universe!!

I don't know if this actually answered anything lol. Please feel free to add comments in this! Just be nice and please don't say hateful things about other characters and other ships here, let's keep things civil and cool 💕

[stormandforge]

"We had our time. I loved her. I always will. But that's the past."

In X-Force issue #6, Forge finally relegated his relationship with Storm to the past. He'd never done it explicitly before.

It might sound surprising coming from me, but this line made me very, very happy. Specifically because it's Forge who's speaking.

Over the years, many writers have tried to give the Storm/Forge relationship proper closure (after the initial Scott Lobdell fiasco in 1992, I mean. Don't get me started). The last few times this happened, the conclusion was more or less the same: Ororo saying or implying that they'd had their time, but it was over, while Forge reluctantly acquiesced with with his bottom lip quivering. Ororo got to move on; Forge didn't.

[From Uncanny X-Men Annual #1, 2006, written by Chris Claremont. Ororo leaves her relationship with Forge behind in the build-up to her wedding. Forge doesn't stop her, but he clearly isn't ready to let her go either.]

Because he's a much less popular character, no writer cared enough to let him move on. Sure, he had a fling with Mystique immediately after he and Storm broke up, but that was over 20 years ago, and it was never presented as a solid relationship. After that, writers returned to having him pine over Storm again and again.

[Greg Pak's Storm #3, 2015. He tries to get in her pants. She's dating Wolverine.]

[X-Force #9, 2020, by Benjamin Percy and Joshua Cassara. This is in the background of a big panel of the Green Lagoon full of customers, but there's still an effort to make the dynamic very clear in the body language. Forge= still trying and Storm=still not interested.]

You could even argue they used him as a prop for Ororo's other romantic relationships by presenting him as the creepy ex.

[Astonishing X-Men #30, 2009, by Warren Ellis. This arc juxtaposes Storm's marriage to Black Panther with her past relationship with Forge, and considering that he's gone insane at that point, he suffers from the comparison. And he's obviously still obsessed with her.]

[Extraordinary X-Men #6, 2016. In this run Jeff Lemire created a love triangle made up of Storm, Forge and Old Man Logan. Although this takes place 20 years after their breakup, Forge is presented as clingy for some reason, thus making RoLo look like the better option.]

So loving Storm became one of Forge's defining characteristics, like his power or his headband. It also meant he was kept in stasis: a character can't evolve if they're always bound to another.

But now we have the new X-Force, which was pitched as a Forge book from the start, and a writer, Geoff Thorne, who's actually interested in writing Forge. And the best way to make Forge evolve as a character, it pains me to say, is to loosen, if not sever, his ties with Ororo.

By finally saying these words, Forge doesn't just decide to move on from his ex: he breaks free. He becomes his own character. He reclaims power. This is huge.

Does this mean Storm/Forge is over for good? Well, no. He does say he still loves her. His love might just be different from now on, is all. Less all-consuming. Also, it's comics. Nothing is forever and anything can happen.

What it means is that we might get new stories for Forge, instead of constantly going back to Ororo and everything connected to her (like the guilt around the power neutraliser, which he also lets go of in this same issue). That's exciting if you ask me. Ororo herself would be proud. And an independent Forge is so much more worthy of her anyway.

"I always loved you far too much to ever cage you." Forge said this to Ororo in a dreamscape once. It definitely works the other way around, too.

[druizard]

ThunderBug: Dream Weave

Rolan/Beetle Imagine/Short Ficlet

What if wizards channel the weave while dreaming in deep sleep?

Rating: Mature (for mention of boob grab) Fluff

Waking up next to a wizard would never cease to amaze Beetle.  On mornings when she wakes before him, she snuggles close to Rolan and watches the magical little apparitions that blip in and out of sight above his head, as if he is conjuring misty visuals of whatever he's dreaming of.  This morning, the glimmering strands of weave dancing around his sleeping head, look a bit like peaceful ocean waves. 

Beetle recalls not so very long ago, when they were living on the road instead of safe in their tower, Rolan's magic reflected nothing but pain, worry, loss and doubt.  Now, it seems like every time she gets to see them, they seem blissful, happy or playful.  While he slumbers beside her, Beetle gently caresses his horns, entranced by the shimmering halo of purple clouds above her lover's head. 

“Watching me while I sleep again?  What a creep.”  Rolan yawns, and just like that, the dream mist dissipates.  With a lazy smile on his face, he kisses Beetle's lips, wrapping his arms around her and laying his head on her chest.

“You were doing that thing again,” Beetle giggles softly, returning her hand to his head, running her claws through unruly hair and gently scratching his horns.

“What thing?” Rolan purrs, his tail twisting around Beetle’s until they make a tight helix together.  His own hands were busy kneading and groping at her thighs, her stomach, arms, breasts, anything he could squeeze with his claws to sample her flesh and assure himself he wasn't still dreaming. 

“That thing, you know, when you sleep so deeply that magic circles your horns?”  Beetle explains, tugging softly at his ear.  “Like a little ring of purple mist that moves with your thoughts?”

“Ah, that thing,” Rolan chuckles, lifting himself up on his elbows and looking her in the eyes.  “Dream Weave, I think Gale called it?”  He yawns again, a few tears forming in the corners of his eyes.  “You do enjoy staring at it don't you?”

“It's just another beautiful feature I adore about you, Rolo,” she sits up and kisses him deeply before stretching her arms to the ceiling.  As she begins to move to leave the bed, she tries to pull her tail from his but Rolan refuses to allow it. 

“Ah, I don't think so, darling bug,” says Rolan, with a sly grin.  “Tolna and Cal agreed to open the shop this morning and I refuse to let you leave this tower until the afternoon.”

“Ro, I've got to pee!!! Release my tail!!” Beetle laughs, crossing her legs and wiggling a little.

“Oh, fine!” He groans, still smiling as his tail relaxes and allows her to escape.  “But you better bring that tail straight back to me afterwards!”

“I can't even bring us snacks!?” She shouts as she walks away, swaying her rear end with enthusiasm.

“Alright!  Bring the snacks,” chuckles Rolan, as he watches the female tiefling's back side, ears twitching with every step she takes.  “But nothing that will leave excessive crumbs in the sheets!”

[wolfmage553]

A possible excerpt from Percival De Rolo's autobiography

In Allura's tower, we found that our late friend Tiberius had written and sent a will that explained what we would get from him in the event he died.

Vex would get custody of Lockheed.

Grog would get a axe passed down through the Stormwind family line and had only recently been passed to him (don't ask me why a family of primarily spellcaster passes down an axe I do not know and likely will never know as both Tiberius and his father died and those two were the only ones who knew why the axe was passed down).

Vax got Drakkia Stormwind's knife collection that was left behind in Draconia when the rest of the Stormwind family left.

I got Tiberius' book collection.

Keyleth got a collection of plants that were grown by Tiberius' mother.

Pike got a necklace of protection. Seems even when he was facing his own death, he never forgave himself for what happened to her that faithful day in the throne room.

Scanlan got the most interesting inheritance.

A set of plants that Tiberius explicitly told Scanlan to look after in his absence.

Scanlan, having matured from his experiences with his daughter, did what Tiberius asked of him faithfully.

However, we did not realize how cheeky our late friend was.

One day, I received a message spell. Scanlan was crying and was trying to explain something but his speech was so impaired by the crying I couldn't understand him.

Fearing the worst, I rushed to Scanlan's place as soon as I could. Turns out Scanlan was playing with his daughter when he accidently knocked over one of the plants Tiberius told him to take care of.

I investigated the plant to see if it could still be saved only to discover:

It was a fake plant.

I decided to investigate the rest of the plants and discovered that all but one of them were fake.

I informed Scanlan of my findings and while he was initially pissed about Tiberius pranking him from beyond the grave he realized that the one plant in the collection that wasn't fake was his mother's favorite flower.

While I had wanted to chalk it up to coincidence, since Tiberius' mother took care of many a plant so it's possible that Tiberius inherited her love of plants and his favorite flower just so happened to be the same favorite flower of Scanlan's mother, Scanlan wasn't about to leave a question unanswered.

He, Grog and Pike decided to head to Draconia. Specifically, the Stormwind family residence to look for answers.

Eventually, among the many bags of holding Tiberius left behind in his room, they find Tiberius' 'adventuring log' (more or less a journal detailing what happened on his journeys outside of Draconia).

They found that Tiberius had not just stayed put in Draconia after he parted ways with Vox Machina.

He was actually looking around for any information on Scanlan's family since he accidently bumped into Kaylie, Scanlan's daughter, while aiding his mother with an errand outside of Draconia.

He detailed all he found out about Scanlan's family, particularly Scanlan's mother since Scanlan's father in Tiberius' own words "Seems to have dropped off the face of Exandria."

On one of the last pages, Tiberius dropped a post-mortal bombshell:

The flower among the plastic plants was always meant as a gift for Scanlan. A metaphorical olive branch in hopes of getting past the rivalry the two had and becoming friends.

I think you can guess why Tiberius wasn't able to give the flower to Scanlan while he was alive.

Grog did not mince words and outright said that Scanlan "Cried so hard all of Exandria could hear him." after learning that bit of information.

Sometimes, it's only after someone we thought hated us is long dead do we find out that they actually cared about us after all.

[miss-tc-nova]

All Not Lost - Percy de Rolo x Reader

Ventured into Vox Machina and now I'm in love with a nerd. ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Premise: After years under a mind control spell, someone finds it hard to return to a broken home

Words: 2,688

Music Inspiration: The Magic Music Box - Orchestral Music by Jojo Comps

~~~~~

               Getting used to the loss of five years was never going to be easy. I lived an eternity in endless pain, but at the same time, in the blink of an eye, I lost everything. It wasn’t just the final years of my teens but also my whole world. My parents, my siblings, the friends I had, the people I loved—all of them in my life one moment and gone the next. Now I’m here, in this new world and trying to figure out how to take another step when I’m so afraid of walking.

               A voice pierces my mourning. Lifting my gaze from the text I’d long since lost track of, I find Percival de Rolo. It was Percy and his friends that tore me from Delilah Briarwood’s hypnotic spell, dragging me through time to a world I’m not sure I want to be part of.

               There’s something concerned on his straight features. It easily beckons a smile to my lips, a deceit I had much practice with lately.

               “Sorry, were you talking to me?” I ask a bit tongue in cheek.

               “I was, in fact.” Arms fold as green eyes peer at my tome from behind spectacles. “Though you seem far more engrossed in…the destruction of existence as we know it.”

               “Huh?!”

               A gloved finger points at the page, underlining the text that speaks of poorly performed magic that could unravel the fabric of reality.

               “Not planning to doom us all, are you?”

               “N-No! Nooo.” The book snaps shut, leaving the immediately vicinity via its flight over my shoulder.

               One of those dark brows quirk. “Really?”

               “Yeah. I was actually looking at teleportation spells but I guess I just…got lost in my own thoughts.”

               “I see.” Percy retrieves the tossed tome and returns it to the table. “Well no need to take it out on a perfectly good book. Though maybe we should reconsider its return if it contains the secrets to destroying the world.”

               I laugh. “I’m sure not a soul in existence has the power to pull that off. Besides, this is mine.”

               “So I should confiscate it.”

               “Only if you’d like to continue walking everywhere.”

               “We have Keyleth for that.”

               My expression falls deadpan. “What was it you needed me for?”

               He eyerolls my abrupt change of subject. “We’re going out for a drink and there were questions as to whether or not you’d care to join us.”

               “Oh…”

               I can understand that—a festive drink in celebration of another day survived. That’s the way Vox Machina enjoyed life and I could never deny them that. But I don’t feel like I survived, nor am I in the mood for said merriment.

               “I think I’ll pass but I appreciate the invitation.”

               Standing, I collect my text and start for the hall of borrowed rooms. Before I disappear, however, I pause.

               I lost it all beneath the Briarwood’s rule, and that included Percy. Yes, he stands before me now, but I can no longer claim him to be the boy I served for all those years—the boy I befriended. Somehow, this truth hurts me more than if his life had also been claimed by those monsters. And I find myself utterly disgusted for thinking such terrible things.

               Again, there’s worry across his face that I can only smile at.

               “Are you certain?” The soft, low gravel in his voice grates at my resolve.

               “I’ll be fine. Enjoy your night, Percy.”

               In the instant my back turns, the smile slips away. With every step, my heart cries to go running back and spill my every misery to him. Had I not come to terms with the fact that he is not the person I once knew, I have no doubt that I would be on my knees, wailing and begging him not to leave me.

               The door to my room closes and the silence is deafening.

               Because I’m a fucking coward.

~~~~~

               Groaning, I pry my face from my pillow. The pain of spilt tears stings at my eyes, but I force them open all the same. Darkness rules the room, the lantern on my bedside table has long since flickered out. Silver moonlight filters through the curtains to give some semblance of bearings.

               Again, the knocking rattles my tranquility, though this time, a voice follows.

               I should let him go—let him think me asleep and wander away for I know I’m at my weakest and Percy deserves so much better than for me to drag us into the past.

               But I’m at my weakest.

               The worn blanket clears my face before I stand. In my stride to the door, I straighten out my appearance. Though rationale yells at me to stop, emotions pull open the door.

               There he stands, surprised, perhaps thinking I wouldn’t answer.

               “What’s wrong?” I hate how broken I sound.

               “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

               “I wouldn’t really call it sleep. Did you need something?”

               The well-dressed man straightens up, as if he’s rehearsed this a dozen times over.

               “Yes actually. I need you to come with me.”

               “Isn’t it late?”

               A smile cracks his lips, cracking at my fractured resilience. “We don’t have bedtimes anymore, do we?”

               My gaze adverts. “I suppose not…”

               “Just trust me.”

               A glove extends to me in offering and I somewhat retreat into my room.

               “Please.”

               Following that arm, my eyes find his face again and, for a moment, I see the boy from my past and there’s nothing I can do to keep from taking his hand. Percy hesitates not even a second in pulling me towards the front door, the warmth of his palm lulling me into acquiescence. My bare feet skim the stone floor, muted by the soft click of his boots. The utter silence of the building cautions the slumber or absence of other callers. Only we—as we creep through the dormant shadows—stir in this silent night.

               Even as my guide draws open the door, I follow without question. No, I only think twice when he steps towards the black steed harnessed to a small carriage. Even so, all I find in my glance is an encouraging smile.

               Gesturing to the uncovered cart, Percy lures me towards the steps. I don’t even have the words to respond, my hypnosis convincing my feet to climb the steps instead. Once I’m comfortably seated, Percival climbs into the driver’s seat and sets out.

               Whitestone, in all its destruction and desecration, rolls by as the carriage wheels creek through deserted streets. Seeing the present whilst remembering the past only brings back the ache I earlier tried to escape. My once proud and thriving home is naught more than a pile of rubble with its citizens scrounging on the edge of starvation. Each passing corner draws me closer to tears. Yet I somehow remain composed, trusting in the man that brought me here.

               There’s not much else he could take from me anyway.

               The excursion eventually leaves that battered city behind, climbing the gentle slopes that used to bring a bustle of travelers from across the realm. Nearing the top of said slope is where the horse’s hooves begin to slow, pulling the cart to the side of the road. The carriage driver dismounts his seat, strolling to the side where he, yet again, offers his assistance.

               “We’re here.”

               Cool grass rustles beneath my toes, soft against unprotected skin. A whisper of a breeze moves the air, careful not to cause unease in this comfortable atmosphere.

               “Where’s ‘here’?” I ask, my voice barely able to break the quiet.

               Percy waves away from the carriage. “Why don’t you see for yourself.”

               It takes my weary soul a moment to sum up the energy to take those few small steps. As I do, the grand ruins of Whitestone revel in the valley below. At its heart, the damage took its toll, but gazing down upon its corpse, the city breaks me. Knees give, bringing to me to the ground, trembling hands trying to contain the grief from pouring out.

               Through the mounting misery, a gentle hand meets my back. “It’s alright.”

               “How can you call this alright?!” My words come out louder, but I can by no means call them strong. “Our home is in ruins! We lost everything!”

               “So that’s what you see.”

               Breath still quivering in my chest, I peer up at Percy. His expression is that of contemplation.

               “I suppose I should have expected as much. When I first returned, that’s all I saw too. Nearly everyone I knew is dead and my home is in shambles. I’d given up hope that Whitestone could ever be prosperous again.” That smile returns ere long. “But the Briarwoods are gone. Those that are still here choose to rebuild and the people are in good hands. From what remains there’s potential. Whitestone can be great again—maybe even better. There’s an entire city down there just waiting to grow anew.”

               Looking back to my home, I consider his words. I can’t say that I’m entirely convinced, though I can no longer see just doomed remains. Some of those sentiments sooth the pain enough for me to clear my eyes.

               “Besides, I wouldn’t say we lost everything.”

               From my back, his hand slips beneath my fingers. His thumb softly strokes against my skin. I’m now unsure whether the hiccup in my chest came from my ebbing sorrow or my heart.

               “We’re here, aren’t we?”

               Percy waits patiently as I gather my words to respond. From his touch, my hand retreat as the rest of me tries its best to hide from him.

               “So much has changed from what I remember. To say that the people we were survived would be inaccurate.”

                “I agree that people change over time, but surely there’s still part of us that always remembers who we were, don't you think?"

               From the corner of my eye, I see Percy reach into his coat. Curiosity gets the better of me. In his palm sits a small ornate box. Silver embellishments flourish across ebony paint, a small silver latch securing the lid. Into my hands, he pushes the trinket. I warily turn the box in my fingers, noting the detail and craftmanship of the item. It appears to be not new but in good condition and not quite perfect. Barely noticeable, a hole in the side blends into the design. Easily, the box opens to show me its secrets. A bundle of mechanical parts is wound together inside yet I understand not its purpose. The metal cylinder is riddled with bumps sitting beside a comb with narrowly spaced teeth while a spring runs the length of the small container.

               Before I can ask, Percy extends his hand again. A silver chain tumbles across his palm, twisting and turning in on itself. At its heart lies a small, silver key. The peculiar charm has no teeth, but a hole at its end and, as I pick it up, I understand.

               Inserting the key into the side of the box, I’m met with some minor resistance. It clicks with each turn until, after a few turns, it moves no further.

               The moment I release the key is the moment the world stops spinning.

               The cylinder turns, those bumps brushing against the metal teeth of the comb with a chime. Each sound on its own is simply senseless noise, but as it continues to turn, it recreates a melody etched deep into my heart. A bright room adorned with golden decorations and luxurious drapes gleams beneath an elegant chandelier. The finest dresses and shoes skim the polished floor in tempo to the orchestra’s magic. People weave together before pushing apart, only to retwine themselves in elegant dance.

               Most importantly, he stands before me. Trauma has yet marred his face, pure innocence left behind that bashful smile. Naivety leads our steps yet allows us to indulge in our blissful youth. We had no fear for we knew none. Our lives were whole. And we were happy.

               “You remembered,” I whisper.

               Percy’s expression holds softer as he too remembers that simple dream. “It was your favorite song. How could I forget?” His gaze wanders the stars above. “You would go about your chores humming that song every day since that dance at my sister’s eighteenth birthday. It was as if you never wanted me to forget.”

               I stare back down at the singing box. “Because I never wanted to forget.”

               “See.” He snares my attention again. “You may not be who you were, but there’s still some semblance of the person I knew in there.”

               Percy stands, pulling me up beside him. Carefully, he takes the box and winds it once again before replacing it in my hand. This time, however, his fingers carefully cradle mine as the box sings its little tune.

               Wistfully, he says, “I can only hope that part of who you saw back then still exists in me.”

               Without warning, Percy pushes me back. I stumble, but the arm at my back keeps me balanced. It occurs to me what he’s doing and the second movement is far smoother. Into memories he leads me, through our childhood and into our teenage years. We spent so much time in each other’s company—in casual conversation, in fervent discussion, sometimes even in silence. It was Percy’s presence that always brought me peace, even now in this new broken existence. And I would dance with him until my last breath if the world would only let me.

               The notes teeter out, the music wheel eventually coming to a stop. Slowly, our feet also cease to move, our reminiscence at an end. Percy’s arms drop and I hold the music box close to my chest.

               “Thank you, Percy. I needed this.”

               It’s hard to see in only the moonlight, but a tint of pink dusts his nose. “Think nothing of it.” He reaches forward, carefully draping the silver chain around my neck. “After all, it only took me five years to finally give it to you.”

               “You got this for me?” A flutter in my chest begins to smolder.

               “Technically, I made it for you.”

               “You made this?”

               “Of course.” At the simple gesture of brushing the hair from my face, Percy ignites those embers. “Because I never wanted you to forget.”

               His touch is careful and soft, as though I might break. However, I need only the smallest sign to lean into his caress. Even the press of his lips to my forehead speaks of his caution, but I see the longing burning in his eyes. For us, it’s been far too long and yet no time at all. Percy is a different person and yet he’s still the same. I suppose not everything has been lost to me.

               Fingers curl around Percy’s coat, my head tilting back. My consent is clear and his head dips a second time. It’s like being blessed with new life, filling my chest with hope I dared not have before this moment. It’s soft and deliberate, meant to relay all we’ve weathered and all we will weather. But this one thing between us will stand through it all.

               Just as it began, it ends though the significance of it all hangs in the air. In his embrace, I soak in his presence. While I have his warmth, however, the night has grown ever late and from my mouth escapes a yawn.

               His voice is reluctant to break our serenity. “We’d best get you back to bed.”

               Rather than answer, I press tighter against him. In response, Percy slips his arms beneath me and whisks me back to the carriage. Sleep nearly takes me in the time it takes to return to our temporary residence. Again, it’s Percy’s strength that returns me to my bed, but it’s mine that keeps him there. I’m not ready for him to leave me again, no matter how short the night may be. He grants me that plea and it’s in his arms that I finally find the shattered pieces of my heart in peace.

~~~~~

Nova’s Other Masterlist

[potatoesandsunshine]

hello! for the fic asks, this part from "like a wolf in the doorway":

 Percy takes a breath, looking at the inked veins and the scribbled notes in the margins, thinking of blood flow. “Oliver liked to climb trees.”

   Just saying it leaves him breathless. He can summon up the image clearly now, untainted by the dark cloud he now thinks was the demon, and it somehow hurts all the more to picture Ollie and Whitney running across the castle grounds, play-fighting in the spring air. There is no rage to catch him and put him back into motion; only a deep, aching emptiness remains.

   He drags in air, but he’s drowning.

   Pike isn’t in armor today. She moves carefully into his space—she does everything carefully—and catches his good hand in hers. Her skin is warm. When did he get so cold?

   “Thank you for telling me,” is all she says, and then she starts a long story about Grog, her great-great-grandfather, and a herd of perilously stubborn goats. By the time she reaches the punchline, he’s well enough to laugh.

   “We can do this today,” he says, looking at the parts and looking at her, a wild rush buoying him. “It’ll work, I know it.”

   And Pike, probably realizing that he’ll do it alone if she refuses, says yes.

    He comes to on the floor of the workshop with the soft golden veil of the Everlight’s power over his mind, dulling the memory—the length of soiled bandages peeled back, Pike holding his wrist down with furious strength as he tried to fit everything together, nothing to numb him and it was so, so bad, he’d shouted—it’s all fading quickly, and he doesn’t want to drag it back up. He can leave this pain here in this room. 

   His throat aches and Pike is inspecting his left hand, bending the fingers one by one to touch the smooth metal that sits where his palm used to be. There’s an empty socket there, but she doesn’t ask what he’s going to put in it.

   Percy smiles, a bright flash of teeth.

hi!!!!!!! thank you so much!!! i love talking about my fic and the tlovm oneshots project as a whole was a really fun experiment to do. i wanted to be a little more involved in the fandom as the show was coming out, and i set the ��just try to write 1k about each episode’ bar intentionally low so that it couldn’t intimidate me. this was a pretty big success - i didn’t really manage to keep current with the release of the show, but it did keep me writing all through 2023 :) now about this passage specifically!!

“Oliver liked to climb trees.”

the older i get the sadder i get about the de rolo children. genuinely it is so so so sad.

There is no rage to catch him and put him back into motion; only a deep, aching emptiness remains.

i wanted this moment of really abrupt and painful vulnerability for percy - i feel like tlovm!percy is even worse at dealing with his emotions than campaign!percy, mostly due to the compressed nature of the adaptation - and what i want most with this character is to turn the rock over and see all of his metaphorical bugs wriggling around underneath. a huge part of this fic was me wanting to address the demon as a coping mechanism; i wanted it to feel worse to remember the good times once he could remember them clearly, because it comes with the pain of knowing he’ll never have those days again. sometimes smiling because it happened brings no comfort at all.

Pike isn’t in armor today. She moves carefully into his space—she does everything carefully—and catches his good hand in hers.

it was also a big priority for me that the characters sometimes get things wrong about each other in these oneshots! pike does not do everything carefully - but percy needs to think she does. it’s not that she’s being dishonest or anything, but he’s encountering her in an extremely specific context in this scene and he’s choosing to read that as a blanket statement about her personality. we’re pre-sunken tomb in this scene, but he’s already looking to put people on pedestals around himself; if he’s looking up, he doesn’t have to face the huge pit of grief inside. wow this fic is a downer!

“We can do this today,” he says, looking at the parts and looking at her, a wild rush buoying him.

THAT’S MY KING OF MOOD SWINGS!!!!! YOU CAN INVENT YOUR WAY OUT OF ANY TRAUMA IF YOU JUST INVENT HARD ENOUGH!

He comes to on the floor ... He can leave this pain here in this room.

it’s genuinely a minor miracle from pike that allowed this surgery to happen - a fun bit of irony, since percy really doesn’t put much stock in the divine. and i’m not being subtle in this paragraph; he can leave this pain here, but he’s carrying the rest of it with him forever. this whole pike scene is kind of... the relief of ripping off the scab if that makes sense? it might not be a good move in the long run, but at least you’ve done something with all of it in the moment.

Percy smiles, a bright flash of teeth.

this is a triumphant moment for him. i wanted to turn Diplomacy into a collaborative piece, to reflect the combo-move it was with vax later on in the show & because i love putting pike and percy in a room together. i wish it had happened more during the campaign, and i’m desperate for it in tlovm (though i don’t really expect to get it, there’s just not time). so he’s smiling, and he won, but he’s also always picking at scabs and becoming the architect of his own destruction. that’s the secret sauce for percy imo. he should always be building the next thing that ruins him, especially if that thing is himself.

[star--joy]

Necklace

The necklace is a small thing. Thin silver and blue wires are braided together to form the chain, from which hangs a polished charm, emblazoned with the de Rolo family crest. It’s been in the de Rolo family for centuries.

Percy’s mouth goes dry when it sees it resting against Vex’s tanned skin.

Prompt: “That necklace looks so beautiful on you.”

-

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: None

Words: 646

Originally posted: 6/24/22

Ao3 link: archiveofourown.org/works/48120247

The necklace is a small thing. Not dainty, exactly, but certainly nothing extravagant. Thin silver and blue wires are braided together to form the chain, from which hangs a polished charm, emblazoned with the de Rolo family crest. It’s been in the de Rolo family for centuries.

Percy’s mouth goes dry when it sees it resting against Vex’s tanned skin. 

It really shouldn’t be anything extraordinary. He and Vex have been married for months now, and one would think that after all that time, he would have gotten used to her being a de Rolo.

And yet, as he watches the charm catch the sunlight through the window, glittering like something ethereal, Percy’s heart swoops and soars.

Gods, how does she always knock the breath out of him?

Vex lifts her fingers to gently fiddle with the chains as she descends the staircase where he awaits to take her to the ballroom for their gala. “I got it from Cassandra. She said it was okay for me to wear it,” she says. “But if you would rather I take it off…?”

That, at least, snaps Percy out of his revere. “Don’t you dare,” he insists, coming to gently tug her hands away from the charm so he can fully admire how it stands out against her freckled skin. “Gods, Vex. That necklace looks so beautiful on you.”

And then she’s smiling, wide and relieved and Percy is once again rendered breathless, this time by her sheer beauty alone. “You think so?”

It’s such an obvious attempt to fish for compliments, and Percy doesn’t give a single shit that he’s playing right into her hands. “I have never seen an accessory more suited to your beauty,” he whispers, hands coming to rest on her hips.

Vex’s laugh is smooth and sweet, like honey in tea. “I’m glad you like it. I—” she pauses, looking down briefly before murmuring, “I’m very happy to be a de Rolo.”

Oh. Percy’s heart does that swoop-soar thing again at the confession, and he just barely resists falling to his knees in a proper display of worship. Instead, he leans down to press their lips together, uncaring of how her lipstick is surely smearing on his own lips. How could something as trivial as that matter when he’s presented with the opportunity to kiss Vex?

“You are— absolutely— positively— impossibly— divine,” he insists, just barely pulling away enough to force each word out.

“And you, darling,” she coos, reaching up to fix the strands of white hair that got knocked astray in Percy’s near-frenzy. “We’re going to be late to the gala if you keep this up.”

“I cannot overstate how little I care about that, at the moment.”

Vex’s eyes wrinkle with the force of her smile and Percy wants so much to kiss her again, and again, and again, but she gently puts a hand on his chest to stop him. “As much as I would love that, I believe some important people are attending this event, and Cassandra will have our heads if we leave her to deal with them alone.”

Gods, how is she the sensible one? That’s supposed to be him! Heavens above, though, she’s left him with very little ability to think beyond how maddening she is, in the best way.

Percy clears his throat, and tries to freshen his dumb-struck mind. “Ah— yes. Right. Important people. Business. Boring things that pale in comparison to you.”

“There you are, darling,” Vex agrees, pulling back so she can tuck her hand into the crook of his arm and guide him along towards where the gala is already in full swing. He follows, though he already knows that for as much as he may try to be a good lord and host tonight, his attention will never fully leave Vex’ahlia. Really, though, who would blame him for that?

[blorbologist]

Caaaan I be cheeky and go Trick Trick Treat (to the beat of Duck Duck Goose) and As Many De Rolos As You Feel Like Including?

Not sure if I quite pulled that off, but that'll be your call to make ;3

--

“Ow! Fuck! What the hell - stop fucking - ow - Ollie!!”

“Language,” Vesper chides, poking at Whitney’s ankles with her cane without breaking her stride. “And stop fucking pulling her hair, Oliver.”

“You swore too! I’m gonna tell mum!” Littlest Cassandra - a knight this year - giggles, tidying Whitney’s fairy pigtails.

Oliver sulks, jack-o-lantern basket swinging as he stomps a few paces ahead. There’s chatter as the three slightly more well behaved kids chatter, discussing classmates’ costumes and candy hauls and optimal routes, before Oliver eventually can’t resist and slows to join them.

Julius is perfectly content to let his sister handle the siblings. He and Vesper are definitely too old for trick-or-treating, but once the littles are tuckered out, they can drop them on the doorstep and take off to the nearest Halloween rager. Not like he hasn’t been pregaming it - his jack-o-lantern has a smile of brown glass and slooshes like it’s about to vomit. 

Oh, he could be there now - already - swimming in a sea of sexy nurses and sexy lady CEOs and sexy sexy sexy, while Vesper and her friends binged old Halloween classics. If not for his wonderful middle brother.

Percival ‘too old for Halloween’ de Rolo got to skip out on this delight of being an older sibling by citing a project due tomorrow in his morning class. For the record, the nerd never leaves anything to the last minute. It was deliberate, Julius would swear on it.

Vesper thwacks his ankle. Julius glances up - it didn’t hurt thanks to the fireman boots - to see her frowning. 

“Where are we?”

A quick glance at the streetsigns answers him - though understandable Vesper can’t read them with her black shades. It’s getting awfully dark, and more lamps are unlit than not for the Halloween atmosphere. “Academy Lane? The Soltryce is at the one end. Dad has a lot of friends that live here.”

It’s definitely the sort of neighborhood Julius is familiar with - gated snaking driveways, walls mimicking castle architecture, the self-importance of the nouveau-riche. 

Nothing can beat an actual fucking castle, though.

Vesper frowns, adjusts her tie. “Mhm. I don’t see many pumpkins out. We should turn back.”

“One more and we’ll get to the car,” Julius promises. Cass is flagging anyways, not helped by all that aluminum platemail. She’ll be begging for bedtime soon. 

But there is a pumpkin on this porch - two, actually, a horribly ugly pair - so Julius ducks past the toothy open gate and keeps an eye on the hooligans. At least they’re having fun.

Never would he admit it, but Vesper has a bit of a point. It’s creepy - the tamed and trimmed trees look like manicured hands, backlit by faint light from the road and sick pale gold from the mansion. Despite how well-kept the place is, it’s crawling with vines. Trying to pick a late-season flower from one is a mistake - Vesper turns when he yelps.

“Just a thorn,” says Julius. When she’s not looking he presses his thumb to his lips, to swipe off the blood.

He and Vesper pause two-thirds the way to the house just as Cass reaches the front steps, Ludwig hushing the twins so she can catch up and be ready to yell with them. Whitney insists on ringing the bell - echoed down the drive, the sound makes Julius shiver. It’s getting cold.

The door swings open, delighted to see them, and the children just as delighted.

“Trick or treat!” hollers the host of little monsters. Everything looks less scary by the light: Cass is a little knight, and the imposing owners of the home are familiar faces with candy at hand.

“Oh, Lady Briarwood!” Julius calls, relieved. “What a surprise!” 

Her smile glows just as the jack-o-lantern’s does. “What a pleasant surprise indeed.”

🎃Trick or Treat! Send me an ask and you'll get a trick (angst) or treat (fluff) ficlet in return! 🎃

[fictionkinfessions]

My darling Percival... My dreams haunt me with a death I'd long hoped to put behind me; stored away in a locked chest deep within the recesses of my mind. But it never went away, did it? Those days, weeks, *months* without you... I became someone even I couldn't recognize. I doubt I ever once looked upon my own reflection willingly during that time: the worst of it, especially. I am just glad you only saw the ghosts of that hollowed out husk I had become.

I can still feel the way the stone ground felt underneath me, the blood pooling in each crevice- the way it soaked the fabric of my pants.. And yet I couldn't even notice it. Not when your wound had no more blood left to bleed. Not when your eyes -always so calculating, and home to that beautiful, creative spark I loved- stared back at me. Dull. Pale. *Empty*.

And yet, as if like images layered upon each other I can still remember the way you looked up at me for the first time, that spark restored. The way I could feel the warmth grow under my palm, and your finger wiping away the blood on my cheek.. I remember you complaining about how chapped you were for days afterwards, lol.. Gods above, you whined about everything, and I couldn't've been happier to indulge you. I fear you may have grown spoiled during that time, darling- but I believe anyone who dies deserves a little pampering once they come back, surely. Aftercare is a necessity, after all (as a certain short compatriot always liked to remind everyone).

I miss you, my darling Percy. What I wouldn't give to have Pike scry on you for me -just *once*- so I could know you're okay.. You're a beautiful mind, talented marksman, and a beloved man, darling. Please hold that knowledge close to your heart. I pray to any of the Prime Deities to keep that which pains you most far away from your mind... If there was ever a time for them to finally listen to me- it would be now.

You are the best man I've ever known, and I love you with all of my heart, Percival de Rolo.. Please, take good care of yourself in my stead. And I will try to do the same in yours.

- Vex'halian #🏹🪶🐻

2

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

Free (percahlia week day 7)

ao3 @percahliaweek

The Lord and Lady of Whitestone are known very well to the inhabitants of their city. They can frequently be found strolling through town, arm in arm. They make weekly purchases from their favorite grocers, make small talk with passersby, and warmly accept gifts brought to them by shy children. More so than any leaders older residents can remember, they are part of the community. 

On the cold days of winter, they can be seen going to services at the Temple of Sarenrae or leaving tokens of remembrance at memorials of the Briarwoods attack. Often during the cold months, the lady never strays far from her husband’s side. It seems as though they are clouded with memories of grief. 

And then the spring comes. As the snow melts, so do shrouds around the lord and lady. They take again to the streets, but this time with smiles and jollity. 

Though she hasn’t been with them long, it didn't take long for Whitestone to welcome in their new lady with open arms. Percival would tell her they loved her all along, and while that was true, he didn’t realize it until the midsummer festival.

She wore a long, blue dress with small white flowers all over it. Her hair was done in her usual braid, fastened with a pin shaped like a bird. With Percival on her arm, she shone like a pearl in the sun. Everyone in a quarter mile could see how enamored they were with each other. For the first time in ages, they saw Lord Percival smile, warmth in his eyes.

Soon after her arrival, Vex’ahlia was pulled away from her husband by a handful of excited children. She let them take her to the other side of the square, listening as they chatter and insist on putting dozens and dozens of flowers in her hair. 

Lord Percival watched from afar with a small smile as she entertained the children, letting them doll her up as much as they wished. His mind couldn’t help but wander to the future, how someday they might have children of their own. 

An older woman came up to Percival then, smiling warmly, “She reminds so much of your grandmother.”

Percy turned to the old woman with raised eyebrows, “You knew my grandmother?”

She smiled, the expression wrinkling her face. She was human with long white hair hanging loose around her shoulders. She wore a white linen dress, the collar embroidered with roses.

“We all did.” The woman looked at Vex’ahlia with a fond smile. “She used to visit the orphanages every week, she would spend hours with the children. There were always rumors that she went out to avoid her husband, but we all knew she loved those kids more than anything. She wasn’t born in Whitestone either, but she cared about this city more than any de Rolo in the generations before her.” 

Percy’s face softened, “I never knew that.” He didn’t have many memories of his grandmother, she died when he was just a child. His father never talked about her much.

The woman patted his arm. “You be good to that woman, you hear? Whitestone needs her,” she looked him up and down, “you not so much.” She chuckled.

Percy smiled, “Yes, ma’am.” Percy bowed to her. “I couldn’t bear the thought of anything else.”

She seemed satisfied with that answer, patting his arm again before disappearing back into the crowd. At that same moment, Vex’ahlia appeared in front of him wearing a wide smile. Her hair was littered with small flowers, some already falling out. 

“Hello, darling,” she crooned, taking his arm. “Who was that?”

“Someone who knew my grandmother,” he told her, voice still full of astonishment. “She told me to be good to you.”

Vex laughed, squeezing his arm, “I hope you’re going to listen to her.”

“I’ll consider it,” Percy teased. They wandered through the festival, arm in arm, both smiling. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a crowd spinning and dancing to the music of a small band. Percy smiled, “My dear, will you dance with me?”

Vex looked at him, eyes raised in surprise, “You want to dance?”

“Ah, so I can still surprise you,” Percy laughed. He leaned down to kiss her gently, inhaling the perfume of the flowers. “I want to dance under the Sun Tree with my beautiful wife if she will grant me the honor.”

“I will.” Vex dragged him towards where a few other couples were dancing. As always, he let her lead. She’s a much more confident dancer. As they spun with smiles on their faces, flowers fell from her hair like rain. 

Around the square, some of the older residents exchanged eye contact, all thinking the very same thing. Whitestone is more than healed. Perhaps the same can be said for the young lord.

[missizzy]

Perc'ahlia Week Day 6 Fic

(Note for those who have only see The Legend of Vox Machina: this starts with a moment from the show, but continues with events from the stream, so general spoilers.)

Of course, the first time I wore something of yours wasn't much like the later, more fun times. It was still romantic, I suppose, you offering your coat to me like that. But honestly, it felt much less so with the guilt you had about you at the time. It sometimes felt a little strange, that whole thing, where you couldn't forget about your part in what had happened, when I wasn't thinking much at all about who might have done what wrong. I had so much else to think about related to the whole thing, I suppose.

But I do remember feeling very warm indeed, as I pulled your coat tight around me. Very, very warm.

It took a while, perhaps, before I got to wear something of yours again. But there was definitely a feeling that came from it happening in the treasury.

Honestly, I didn't even do it on purpose. It was just our clothes really did get tossed everywhere, and I was thinking about how we ought to get back upstairs. Even when I first realized the shirt I was pulling on was too big on me, my first thought was a perfectly mundane hope I could just keep it on, you could pull your coat over, and we could just get to the upper floors like that. Only for a moment, of course; I knew you'd never agree to that, even if noone was likely to get a close look at us on the way up.

And there you were, just looking wide-eyed at me like that. For a second, I thought we might end up being down there a good deal longer. But more than lust, I saw awe, and approval, even delight.

It drove home to me for the first time that you truly had given me Whitestone, along with yourself. Power and responsibility settled down on me, as I sat in the garb of a de Rolo and looked around that treasury, and since that day, I have never forgotten that I now hold both, in a way I never even thought I'd want, let alone get.

You were still going to insist on getting all your own clothes fully back on before we emerged, so it was still only a few moments of my wearing your shirt. That time.

There was more time on a morning when we were en route to Vesrah. When I woke up just a little bit before you, and your shirt was right there. I remember the linen settling against my skin, a little damp but I didn't mind, and the smell of you was so strong in the warm air-objectively, it wasn't even all that pleasant, but I very much liked it. It made me feel giddy, beset with a level of happiness beyond what I'd been used to for most of my life.

And that was all before you woke up, once again laid your eyes on me, and well, the awe and all those wonderful things were still there, but this time, it was the clearly the lust that rose to the surface. For both of us.

I suppose it was a little surprising how long the shirt stayed on. Since I hadn't buttoned it up, it wasn't like it was all that much in the way, though.

So that's been a thing since then. Though the shirt's more of one for warmer days; I still can't imagine going about our bedchamber-either in the castle, or my own house-in only a shirt, even one your size, during a winter morning. That's what your coat is for, obviously.

That was why I went for it, that first morning. Plucked it from where you'd hung it and wrapped it over a thick nightgown, and I even pulled stockings on. That left me warm enough to sit with Trinket and just take a few minutes together.

When you woke up, and laid eyes on me, I did see the certain spark in them. Just a spark that morning, not inclined to ignite just then. When you remarked that you liked how I looked in your coat, I was able to appreciate that comment while knowing it wasn't leading to anything, unless you counted my keeping the coat on my when I came back to the bed to take a few minutes with you next, and I might have done that anyway.

I would remember it. First, I would remember it a little on those couple of late evenings when you again draped your coat over me, though that usually mattered less then. I think the majority of the time I'm wearing one of your coats, it really is there to keep me warm, and it usually does.

But even if, usually, wearing your coat is just about warmth, there are still those times where it's instead about heat.

I don't think either of us will ever forget that first night I got back to to bedchamber before you, and had time to get myself into your coat-and only your coat. I considered adding one of your shirts to the mix, but decided to keep it simple, at least that first time. Sometimes since, it's been a good thing to put on both when I'm pulling this on colder nights, but this night wasn't quite that cold.

Besides, when you walked in, and saw me sitting there, it was absolutely delicious to feel nothing but that coat on my skin while the heat pulsed through me. Also, it allowed me to keep it on and wrap it around us both, at least as long as I could hold it in place. And once I got on top, well, it was certainly staying on then.

We even stayed tangled up with it for a minute or so after we were done, although it was too soaked in sweat to stretch that out. Long enough for me to playfully ask if I looked more powerful in the coat, to which you replied that I always looked powerful to you-and I couldn't really object to that answer, could I? But yes, you like me like this, and so for the rest of our lives, I think, I'll be borrowing a shirt or a coat occasionally.

I'm rather sorry most of my own clothes are too small for you. Most of them were very much never be your style, either, but now that I can spend a little more money on things like my hunting jackets, I do think some of them would looked splendid on you, except I doubt you could get your arms into them. Occasionally you've worn a scarf of mine, but that's not really the same thing.

But there is one other exception: my cloaks. Maybe not an article of clothing you'd be that inclined to borrow when your own is a Vestige. But you don't bother with that every time we go out into the woods together. And so came the evening you, me, and Trinket stayed out past our bedtimes and your coat got wet and had to be removed, and so as we sat beside the fire and you pressed nervously against Trinket's fur, it was I, instead, removing my outermost layer and draping it around you. You turned so pink, then, but your smile was so bright, and as the evening went on, you pulled it tighter around yourself, until you were nearly burrowed into it.

And this time, when I playfully asked how you liked the little role reversal, you just said, "I like it a very great deal, my dear. It makes me feel like I'm yours."

[burr-ell]

while I've been a cr fan for a while now, i've only recently started to interact more with the fanbase after completing campaign 2 and starting to go through campaign 3(i will hopefully catch up before it concludes but who knows lol) and man is the fandom strange. never have i seen a fandom have both a toxic positivity problem as well as a toxic criticism problem at the same time. people both viciously defend the show and attack it depending on the time of day it feels like lol. that being said I do want to know about what you enjoy about the show? I feel like most of the posts i've seen of yours are meta/takes about the fandom, which i do enjoy don't get me wrong, but i'd love to see things you like, especially if they're niche things! sorry if its a question you've been asked before! much love from another, what i would say, sane critical role fan ahhah

ah you want to see me be annoying. bless you anon <3

-mr lord percival de rolo and ms lady vex'ahlia de rolo and their sister/in-law ms lady cassandra de rolo and their bear son trinket de rolo and their baby quarter elf de rolos and their bear grandson charles de rolo and

-listen, i don't know what made me such a lunatic about perc'ahlia and their family but i am, that will never change, they've both suffered so much loss and they could have gone dark so many times but they didn't! they both chose the light and each other and chose the light because of each other and they have a FAMILY, whitestone is a city of rebirth and i want to gnaw on something every time i think about it

-i also just! love vox machina as a whole! it's classic, archetypal fantasy adventure stuff and that's why i love it. i love the chroma conclave arc especially, i really enjoy the stakes and the traveling across the world and the absolutely ridiculous moments that grew out of it. vox machina is, in the metanarrative, the living legend—the group that started it all and began breathing life into the world of exandria, and i've always enjoyed those kinds of stories.

-EXU CALAMITY. if you haven't seen it you absolutely should, i highly recommend it. it's an amazing story, the characters and setting feel so realized and alive in the four episodes they were around, and the actual players are incredible. i love the lore it introduced, i love the specter of vespin chloras over the narrative, i love how much presence asmodeus has and how well brennan plays such a master manipulator. and the INTRO??? why isn't the intro released as a single it's so good

-i've only had fy'ra rai and morrighan for a day and a half. if anything happened to them i'd kill everyone in the crown keepers

-i love the kinds of concepts and narratives that taliesin considers for his characters and how deeply he thinks through their presence in the world. he's thought so much about whitestone and both what it used to be like and how it's changed since C1, and while i've only watched the m9 twoshot, lucien/molly/kingsley is such an interesting idea (and i just really like kingsley). ashton is also an absolute joy to watch, and i'm so curious about their backstory and lore. taliesin has a knack for portraying characters who have very strong moral and personal beliefs but would rather coexist in a world with others' than enforce their own, which is probably why i like percy and ashton so much in particular. i also really enjoy his sense of humor; it's very dry and snarky with just the right amount of gothic whimsy.

-simply put. Travis Good. even back when he was playing grog, who is on paper a pretty simple character concept, he just couldn't help but give him a compelling and interesting backstory—and when he had to show off his acting chops, he DELIVERED. the depth that he gives his characters and the enthusiasm he has for the lore of the world are so burr-coded. cerrit in particular was an absolute tour de force and just watching travis go for whatever decisions he's going to make is incredible. he's also absolutely hilarious and his comedic timing is underrated. i mean, southerner to southerner, game recognize game.

-laura bailey!! i'm so fascinated by her consistent narratives about masks and coping mechanisms, and i love the fact that she's willing to make her PCs unlikable. she embraces their flaws and their virtues and just plays them so naturally. you have to read between the lines sometimes with her characters or you risk falling for the fronts they put up, and i love that kind of subtlety! she also doesn't feel the need to walk anyone through those choices, which i also appreciate; she simply plays them as they are, and however you react to that is up to you. i admit i'm interested in the alternate universe where laura played a character in calamity—marisha absolutely nailed it as patia, but i'm also interested in what laura would have done at that table.

-welcome to tal'dorei? oh my GODS that album is spectacular, especially the title track

-lastly, i genuinely enjoy the fandom experience! i've met some really cool people and made some really good friends here, and i love the creativity, especially of fanartists. i've learned so much about narrative and storytelling from reading different people's analyses, i've learned more about art from the fanart community, and overall i feel like the people i've met and the experiences i've had have helped me grow as a person.

anyway thank you for encouraging some positivity! i enjoy writing meta and critical analysis is really fun for me, but it's nice to take a step back and remember all the things i love. <3

[rolotouto]

More Rolo lines from Lost Stories: First, the line I was missing for when his Awaken level is at max. These level up lines are shared by both (and probably all future) Rolos: ・Nobody can rival me. I'm sure. The rest of the video are all of his exclusive lines as “Rolo [The First Time of Peacefulness]”, including his Home, Battle and Trust lines: ・When we went shopping, Brother said these clothes would suit me, and bought them for me. Having someone buy clothes for you... feels funny somehow. Hehe. (TN: "Funny" as in "strange.") ・The members of the student council also praised me, saying it suits me very well, but it must be because of my brother's good taste, who picked it out for me. ・My brother said he put the outfit together choosing marine colors to evoke the beach. I've never gone to the beach for leisure before, but I think I'd like to take a little walk by the seaside. ・It's an outfit Brother chose for me, but I think Brother would look good in this kind of clothing too. If Brother and I wore matching outfits… would it be strange? ・I used to think that any clothing would do as long as it fit the occasion. But wearing new clothes like this makes things fun. It's thanks to Brother that I could discover this feeling... ・It seems Brother is going for a preliminary inspection at an aquarium by the sea. Apparently, he's looking for a location to hide KMFs that can move underwater. Perfect, I'll go there wearing this outfit! ・An aquarium, huh… I've never been there for leisure. When I went there for missions, I didn't think much about it, so why is it that… when I'm with Brother I get all restless…

I previously claimed that these Home lines were aimed at Mario/Maya, but now I believe he isn't talking to anyone in particular, which is why he discusses his past so openly. After all, if Home characters addressed Mario/Maya, then you wouldn't be able to choose him/herself as your Home character. However, you can, so… I must have been mistaken.

・I've been to aquariums for missions before, but I don't have any memories of looking at the fish or inside the tanks. I probably wasn't interested in anything. But now… (TN: Might be "I've been to an aquarium for a mission")

I love the attention to his character here. The writers understand that he used to focus solely on accomplishing missions and was too empty inside to take an interest in anything, but now, in the present, he's always so introspective, contemplating how his emotions and experiences are changing. My Rolo... ♥

・The objective is still to do a preliminary inspection. But perhaps it wouldn't hurt to enjoy the aquarium with Brother a bit. Just like real siblings... ・That's right, maybe it will also help Brother to take a break! It would be nice if Brother enjoys going around the aquarium with me...

Notice how he is initially a little shy when expressing his desire to enjoy the aquarium, until he realizes Lelouch could also benefit from the idea. Just like when he kills "for Lelouch", he usually needs to delude himself rationalize how his actions will benefit Lelouch before allowing himself to carry them out—even when said actions are actually as selfish as killing Shirley or Nunnally. I'm not saying this trait is a positive aspect of his personality, just that it is part of his personality and, as always, I'm just glad to see Rolo acting like himself. From the moment he betrayed the Order—or even earlier, from the moment he started to enjoy living as more than just their tool—Rolo developed a new sense of identity and personal desires. However, I believe the obligation to serve someone remains ingrained in him, causing him to inevitably rely on the need to prove himself useful to Lelouch. Onto his battle lines:

・If it’s with brother, I’d like to go to an aquarium or the sea together… The same line as when scouted. ・I will drown you in the sea. Probably did drown some of those pilots he was escaping from in Turn 19... ・I have plans with Brother! The tone is meant to sound like "Why is there a battle now when I have other things to do!" ・What a pain. ・Let's end this. ・Don't disturb me! ・Bye. Those were Battle lines, but then there's the following Home line which wasn't included inside the "character archive": ・I keep checking over and over whether I might have gotten it dirty without noticing… As far as I can tell, the other Rolo didn't have any non-archived lines, so I have no explanation for this! Well, to be precise, all characters have month-exclusive non-archived lines that I haven't posted yet (you can only hear the September line during September, etc.), but this line here isn't one of those, so I'm puzzled... Anyway, cute, anxious Rolo. Lastly, the Trust videos: ・When I told President Milly that my brother had picked out this outfit, she was impressed and said 'Good taste.' ・Shirley-san said that I'm cute… If that means that this outfit suits me, I'd be happy.

・That person who is Brother's collaborator said, 'Someday I want to go to the sea with everyone,' but for me, if I'm with Brother, that's enough. I had to ask about this over at the guild, and I can't find anyone who has a clear idea who he's talking about. Probably Mario/Maya. ・It's the first time I've been so happy about receiving clothes from someone. I know: Next time, I want to choose clothes for Brother. Once again, considering that Mario/Maya has Trust levels you can upgrade as well, he/she is probably not the listener as I had assumed in previous posts. So the attribute might be called "Trust", but Rolo isn't really trusting anyone in particular within the story. ---

There have recently been special outfits during the birthdays of certain characters - specifically Suzaku, Jeremiah and Cécile, so far. If they release only one character per month, then I'd assume Rolo won't receive his Birthday alt this year, seeing as he's competing against Euphy, Anya, Guilford, Clovis, and Nunnally, but the chance is there! If my birthstone googling is correct, October should get a Tourmaline or Opal-related outfit.