#the oleander aw

[alexand3rwrites]

King of Tears Masterlist

Click each title below for quick access to each entry on my sophomore anthology, King of Tears

1. haunted  2. king of tears 3. conspiracy theory 4. how dare you? 5. precious youth 6. was any of it true?  7. love is lethal  8. the oleander 9. five seconds flat 10. letters 11. perfect warning 12. rhinestones interlude  13. the graveyard shift (farewell) 14. river’s lament

[koideres]

thinking over my vesper who is way too chill about about way too much. normally.

[xdemon-mage]

BTD Squid Game AU + my goobers

[hiskillingjar]

Begging screaming and crying for something with teen edgelord oleander 🙏

absolutely you fucking can

1000+ words. sfw. cw for self harm, violent descriptions, dead animals, and uh. what i can only describe as OCD + jealousy spurned (vaguely) incestuous intrusive thoughts

“Do you have anything you’d like to say?”

Famous last words, before the gunshot and the splatter of blood, bone and brain matter out the back of a hostage’s head, almost black against the cement wall.

Lawrence stared at his laptop screen, his grey eyes fixed on the newest video on the front page of Liveleak that morning.

The hostage was a soldier and the shooter was probably another soldier, fighting a war thousands of miles from his house in the woods. Lawrence didn't tend to read the descriptions of the videos anymore, since he was more interested in the viscerality of what was posted.

Or, they should have been visceral. 

Lately, he wasn't getting the kinds of reactions from himself that he used to. 

He just sort of felt...numb to it all now, the worst gunshots and car accidents barely raising an eyebrow, let alone inspiring a gasp or a turned stomach.

Maybe that just meant he needed to up the stakes a little. Find a website that posted worse videos, more gruesome ones, and maybe then he'd start feeling something again.

"Dad's home," His sister, Lily, swung around his door frame, practically out of nowhere (he didn’t hear her coming up the stairs, she was that quiet), making him flinch and quickly shut his laptop, lest she see what he was looking at on a Saturday afternoon while she and Laurel were playing outside. "He's got a deer tied to the front of his truck."

"...Buck or doe?" Lawrence asked as he sat up, pushing a hand through his greasy hair.

He’d shower today. Or maybe Monday, before school.

"I dunno," She shrugged. "Whatever doesn't have horns."

"Antlers," Lawrence mumbled with a roll of his eyes, standing from his bed and setting his laptop down on the desk. "So it's a doe then. A girl deer."

"Aw, that's sad," Lily pouted, leaning in the doorframe, inadvertently pushing her chest forward. "What if it's, like, Bambi's mom or something?"

"Bambi isn't real," Lawrence said somewhat curtly, looking over his shoulder with a hard look before looking back towards his window when he saw Lily was wearing a low-cut sundress. "And Dad's killed a ton of girl deer before. Why do you care about them now?"

"Mm...I guess I didn't think about it before." She said before shrugging her freckled shoulders and skipping back the way she came, down the loft steps, clearly not bothered enough by their father's hunting habits to be too concerned by it.

Easy for her. 

She wasn't the person who was going to get called on to help skin it.

She wasn’t going to have to pin the doe down, spread her limbs out, open her up, watch her bleed as he stripped her to muscle and bone.

It was always so easy for Lily. 

And for Laurel, too, even if she was the more boy-ish one of the twins, sometimes more boy-ish than Lawrence himself was.

Hands clenched into fists at his side, Lawrence pressed his lips together tightly and let out a long, shaking breath through his nose, feeling his gut churn as he kept thinking about Lily in her sundress.

Yellow, adorned with daisies, white cotton socks and yellow jelly shoes to match her dress. Lily entertained her mother’s wishes for a ‘real girl’ in a ‘family of hunters’ (like Lawrence was any good at hunting anyway), a willing doll to dress up, that Laurel didn’t allow her and that Lawrence wasn’t allowed to want.

He quickly reached for the military tin on his desk, which contained his razors.

Lily’s sundress, her freckled shoulders and pale, burgeoning chest, her smiling lips and gap teeth.

He brought his other hand up and dug the blade of the cleanest razor into his wrist, barely feeling it.

Her jelly shoes which were caked with mud from playing outside, her thin legs marred with bruises and scrapes when it got too rough.

The cut stung a little more as he dragged the razor deeper into his skin, his long fingers trembling as he forced himself to feel the pain, feel it, you fucking degenerate, feel it.

Her flushed cheeks, even though she was never told off, never taught how to skin a buck, never reprimanded for crying as she did it, never told to stop crying, suck it up and cut your hair because you look like a fucking faggot, fucking faggot, FUCKING FAGGOT-

"Lawrence."

Lawrence flinched at the stern, solid sound of his father's voice, quickly turning around and pulling his hoodie sleeve down over his marred wrist, his razor digging into his palm.

"You see that doe on my car?" Father asked with a proud grin, his hands on his hips, a pocket knife on a carabiner swinging from his cargo shorts, never far away from tools of violence. “Me and the boys ‘been camping since six this morning for that beauty. Your old man got it in-,” He raised a hand up, extending two fingers towards the young boy and mimed a gunshot towards him. PEW! “One shot. Is that cool or what?!” 

"Um, yeah, Dad," Lawrence nodded, his eyes stinging from the pain in his wrist, threatening to tear up. "It's…really cool. Nice one."

"Damn right it is," He smiled even broader with a satisfied nod. "You're gonna help with skinning, so your mother can use it for dinner tomorrow."

It's not phrased like a question anymore. It's a demand.

You're going to. You will.

"Yeah," Lawrence nodded too, giving Father his best approximation of a smile possible. He had no doubt that Father wouldn’t see how empty it was. "Um, just give me a minute and I'll be out in a sec."

"I'll be counting!" Father called behind him as he paced away, floorboards creaking under his weight as he jogged down the stairs and left him to it.

Lawrence let out a strangled little whimper as he pulled his sodden jacket sleeve up, inspecting the damage he’d done to himself in his pursuit for absolution.

Multiple cuts, deep and painful and still oozing with blood. His palm had been sliced open too, but not nearly as bad as his wrists had been.

“Fuck,” He murmured, chewing the inside of his cheek, his teeth grinding (too tight in his skull) as he grabbed for the military tin again for a roll of bandages. 

“Dad’s gonna kill me…”

[psitaniumpsichosis]

Who let me use blender

I'm still incredibly new to blender but, hey, never too late to practice!

Some posing practice as well

[nagaino]

[shadowglens]

olympia taking gale to the feywild 🥺

[sunfaggot]

Oleander and Darlene had difficulties coming up with names. Oleander wanted to name Copper after characters from plays. Darlene wanted to name Copper something nature-related– after an animal or after a plant or maybe a tree.

In the end, Darlene impulsively named her child Copper after copperheads.

[diejager]

Hi! I got the notification that your requests are open skjsjsjs so exciting, can you do something about the noodle dragon with Monster!Task Force 141 please? That would be all, thank you and have a nice day! ❤️✨

Cw: canon-typical violence, weird water magic, weird dragon/monster shit and lore, death, crash, tell me if I missed any.

They’d gotten used to you over the month, watching you prance around them like a graceful panther in hunt, stalking around them with that cheeky smile of yours and a clawed hand always ready to patch someone up. You were a might dragon, a warm to some classifications and an Asian one to others, but the consensus was that you weren’t one to be trifled with —as most dragons were, but if anything, you were so a feline in a body of a dragon than the ferocious monster you were. Always prowling and on guard, watchful and observant, aware of the events transpiring around you like a protective cat.

They took well to you, forgoing the paranoia and apprehension at your eagerness to help them and you openness, your long tail, hard scales protecting the thick cords of sinewy muscles curled ever so softly around them, and the tuff of fur tickling any naked piece of skin. And however tender and soft-hearted you were, they’d seen the dangerous part of you, the draconic one with a strange affinity to water rather than the destructive fire they were so familiar with. Whereas Price was a chaotic force, burning everything on his path and leaving nothing but cinder and ash, you were an unmoving force of water, a typhoon and cyclone that would crash the land and leave broken pieces of what remained, cold and drowned —the calm before the storm as people said, a perfect imagery of you.

Yet there was a lingering suspicion that it was all, that there was a more monstrous part of you hidden away from their eyes. Horangi had shared such thoughts - another mythical creature of sacredness and nobility - and showed them what hehad heard of eastern dragons: giant snake-like creatures with the faces of lions and crowns of graceful antlers, born with lustrous manes and hard but flexible scales that let them dance and twirl as they wished it. Destructive beauty, Horangihad mumbled, a creature who’s image is drawn to represent beauty and nobility. 

They knew, they were fully aware, that you had more to show, yet they couldn’t hold back the awe and amazement that followed the gut-deep fear and worry after they saw you fall, your figure shrinking as you plummeted into the dark and silent ocean, gone into the wide, open sea. Rather than seeing your head pop out, gasping for air while they clung to their straps and helicopter, Nikolai screaming through the comma about holding onto something, swirling left and right to avoid being hit a second time by the war ship, it was calm, a smooth plain growing in darkness, a shape forming beneath the veil of a blue ocean. 

Then, before they knew it, a majestic serpent erupted from the sea, wet scales gleaming under the sun while you rose into the sky in a spiral, white fur floating like you hadn’t just come out of water. You were swift, curling in the air, your magicworking it’s wonder when you flew, stubby arms and legs moving as if you were swimming, looping around them to shield them from being narrowly hit. It was as Horangi gushed, water rose and fell with you, tendrils of salty water reaching out to curl around you, rising high to swarm the enemy ship the same way you did, circling around it until it was left submerged, swallowed up by your hydromancy. You had drowned warship in the depth of the abyss, a dark and cold pit that promised a lonely death, forgotten and painful. You had caused the deaths of hundreds with a twirling dance, an alluring, yet deadly show, like an oleander.

You made no show of joining them in the aircraft, keeping your distance from them, adequate enough to protect them from further damage without becoming a danger to them. They - especially Price, since he had never seen an eastern dragon, only from files and catalogues - gawked, gazing at your head-sized eye, blinking owlishly at them with a narrowed eyes, slitted pupil gleaming with glee at their admiration. You purred, a growling rumble that shook your gills, a deep sound shuddering through them like thunder, low and booming, but it was a happy sound, meant to comfort them from the near sinking that you’d saved them from.

Even in this situation, where they’d been saved by you, you were still trying to comfort them and reassure them despite having taken a hit or two. They were glad Laswell found you.

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird-kamakse @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce @sobbingnshtting

[alexand3rwrites]

8. the oleander

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In the frost barren fields of my heart, grew a single flower. Under gray November skies, I knelt, enamored by its beauty–a feeling I had never felt before. As the months passed, and the summer sun began to rise over the horizon, I continued to visit the flower. Despite the season’s warmth, the fields of my heart remained cold, and no place for love. The flower changed that. With its beauty, came warmth as well. Golden light glimmered, thawing my cold heart. As weeks passed, and May crossed into June, the fields of my heart became my sanctuary. The flower was now mine, to admire, and to love. But when the winds of time blew me and the beauty into July, I began to see things for what they were. The flower, an oleander, was as deadly as it was beautiful. Its golden light was not a warmth that defrosted my heart, but rather a poison sent to slowly kill me. Distracting me with beauty and charm, the evil had its chance, and let its toxins slowly seep into my being, burrowing under my skin. I had been dying slowly, over the months, all while I was enamored by the oleander. The deadly beauty, having grown out of ice frozen ground, had not been able to do so because it was special, or the one. Rather, it was on a mission to hurt–to hurt all that are good, build them up, and without an ounce of remorse, annihilate their hearts. You, my love, are the oleander.

[rottenraccoons]

ngl the idea of people in the underground being in public and thinking “aw shit” before sneezing into their masks is really funny to me. Some people like Francesco dont have to worry about it, but knowing other people like Keir just have to suffer w it makes me happy

When Keir sneezes in his mask, his day is instantly like 30% worse until he can clean it up. Oleander, of course, simply does not do anything as undignified as sneezing anyways, and is therefore immune to that kind of trouble.

(Cirrus and Francesco, as you have noted, can simply avoid this issue altogether by choosing less coverage.)

[itsphoenix0724]

A Shadowed Throne (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: The warmer seasons have been particularly hard this year as Azriel awaits his Queen's return. When winter finally dawns he finds Death will only kneel to life in one circumstance.

Warnings: SMUT, throne-sex, unprotected sex

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Hello everyone! This was heavily inspired by the myth of Hades and Persephone if that wasn't obvious. Also incredibly inspired by @azsazz's beautiful work called "Between the Shadow and the Soul" so please give that a read. I asked on anon if I could write something similar and I am thrilled they agreed. I hope everyone enjoys it, and as always constructive criticism is welcome!

The halls in the Obsidian Castle are always eerily quiet. You can only hear the whispers of the souls that bustle around the castle. The God of Death finds that he enjoys quiet peace. The cold marble of his throne presses against his back and calms his racing pulse. He feels your presence enter his realm. Shadows bring him a rush of warmth and the smell of sweet spring flowers. 

The feeling awakens something in his blood he thought was long dead. This spring's goodbye was awful, the summer bittersweet, and the fall melancholy.

Winter was always his favorite season.

Selfishly he loved the quiet bliss of snowfall and the influx of souls that enter his realm. Most of your smaller creations don’t survive the harshness the winter brings, but he wipes your tears and consoles you that all of your creations will be safe with him. He cherishes each one, kindly guiding them back when they’re ready to move on. 

Two souls open the large doors to the throne room. When he sees you the cold heart in his chest starts to beat again. He surveys you from where you stand at the door. 

You had chosen a dress in a deep purple for your return home. Two thigh-high slits let him see the vines that wrap all the way down to your bare feet. Your usual flowers had been swapped out for an homage to the underworld. A crown of lilies, nightshade, and oleander were woven through your hair. Two sets of foxglove dangled from your ears and purple emperor butterflies fluttered around your neckline. 

You were a vision, a true queen of his realm. 

Your eyes locked for one tortuous moment. Neither of you moved, exhaling a small breath before you take off to him in a run. With a wave of his hand, the souls cleared out of the throne room. They would celebrate the return of their queen later with a week-long festival in your honor. 

He fully intended to celebrate the return of his queen right fucking now. 

He pulled you onto his lap as soon as you reached the throne, the butterflies scattering into the air and landing around the both of you. One brave butterfly rests on his hair before your fingers chase it away.

He wraps one strong hand through your hair before finally drawing his mouth to yours. After months and months of cold, he finally feels warm again. He draws his tongue along the seam of your lips, and they open for him as he greedily slides his tongue into your mouth.  He moans as the taste of honey and pomegranates flood his senses and you dig your hands into his hair and pull so harshly he fears you may have drawn blood. 

“Azriel,” you whine his name into his mouth and he wants to inject the sound into his veins. Mortals fear his name, only referring to him as Death or King, and he finds he doesn’t mind their fear. 

He only wants his name to fall out of your lips anyway. 

He moves his lips to mark the soft skin of your neck. He wants to leave his mark everywhere on your body. He wants to remind you of why he deserves your return to him every winter. Azriel’s instincts are kicking into high gear. He wants to claim you and make you beg and cry underneath him and never let you go again. However, he puts that on pause. 

For now. 

He stands up, hauling your whole body against him before pinning you to the back of the throne and falling to his knees. 

All life has to yield to Death eventually, it’s the way of the world, but Death kneels for Life in some instances. He parts your dress, fingers toying with the vines that wrap up and down your legs before diving in. His eyes almost glaze over as he licks one strong stripe through your center, tongue gently flicking over the apex of your thighs in a way that makes you convulse and squirm beneath his tongue. There will be time for teasing later.

Azriel intends to fully make you beg for him when he can properly take you apart in the bed that has been dreadfully cold in your absence. He eats you like he was starving for it, in a way he was, as he laps at the juices running down your thighs and looks up at you through half-lidded lashes. Your cheeks are flushed, your chest heaving up and down as your fingers wind through his inky black hair. You urge him back down and he lets out a dark chuckle that wraps your bones in dark silks.

Azriel laps his tongue at your center before thrusting inside and you let out a moan of approval. His tongue fucks you in and out as one hand comes up to rub tight circles against your clit. You shatter against him with another scream of his name. Azriel’s eyes find yours again and he takes a moment to admire his queen. Your skin is flushed with a thin layer of sweat, even in the cool throne room, and you're lounging on the throne like a true ruler of the underworld. The sight makes his painfully hard cock twitch in his pants. He shucks your legs off of his shoulder before rising to his full height before you. You stare up at him through your eyelashes, playing innocent, even as you undo the laces that hold his pants shut. Your hand runs over him and his head falls back with a groan. 

He needs to get inside you now or this is going to be over far before it begins. 

He takes your hands away and pins them above your head as he slowly sinks in inch by tortuous inch. He tries to patiently wait for you to adjust but you dig your nails into his wrists and growl in his ear for him to “move already,” he begins to fuck you at a relentless pace. His hands drag down the top of your dress and he takes the weight of both breasts in his palms. He runs a thumb over your nipples before pinching and pulling in time to his thrusts.

“You’re such a good fucking girl,” He growls into your ear and he feels your run a hand up the back edge of his wing. He lets out a long moan, hips stuttering for a second, and he bites your neck in warning before pounding into you at a relentless pace.

You’re trying to arch your hips to meet his thrusts but you’re too fucking cock drunk to keep up. 

He reaches one hand down to play with your clit again and he brings you to another mind-numbing orgasm that makes your walls convulse around his cock. That and the way your nails are digging into his back sends him growling through his release. He pulls out slowly before tucking himself back in his pants and rearranging you so that you’re sat on his lap. Az rubs small circles on your lower back and you play with the ends of his hair.

“Sweetheart,” you mutter and he looks down at you, a small smile playing on your lips. “Where’s my throne?” He tries to smother the guilty look before feigning his innocence. With a wave of his hand your throne appears. A rose quartz twin to his obsidian one. 

“It depresses the souls when you’re not here Flower. I had to hide it.” It’s not a complete lie. He notices the sad glances the souls steal at your throne when you’re not here, it saddens him a bit as well, like half of his heart is missing. An incomplete set. 

“Uh-huh. Sure.” He sends another guilty smile your way. The whole truth is that he hid it so he could enjoy you on his throne, and you’ve always been able to clock his bullshit from a mile away. 

“Anyway,” He continues, hopeful to change the subject as he rises to his feet with you in his arms. You let out a small squeal and grip him tighter. “You have a party to prepare for my love. We’re thrilled to have you back.” He’s marching you to your bedroom and he kicks the throne room door closed behind him. 

“Azriel if you drop me I swear I will make flowers grow out of your ears.” It’s an empty threat. He can feel your body shake with unreleased laughter and hear the smile in your voice. Az leans down to playfully nip at your ear before he jostles you in his arms just to make the laugh you were holding bubble up in your chest. 

“I would never drop you Flower.” 

And for the first time in months, on the evening of the first day of winter, the halls of the Obsidian Castle are filled with the sounds of laughter.

[witchofspades]

I have a wolf OC named Oleander and he’s suddenly incredibly important to me, hello buddy, welcome to this awful world, we’re here to suffer together

[s3rpulalacrymanz]

“You look like you’ve seen something awful...”

Welcome.. I am a fictive of lawrence oleander from BTD.. I am not completely like my source so be warned.. I am completely fine with ships and of stuff I do not mind at all! I may come of as weird and if I make you uncomfortable please tell me..

A little about me:

My name is lawrence,,, I don't use pronouns I personally feel disgusted by them,,, I can be very off putting,, I am 26 (bodily 20)

Straw page ( WIP):

Okay:

- Flirting

- Ships

- NSFW

-etc.

Not okay:

- Underage

- pedophilia

Basically anything that is pushing it to much!

Please keep in mind I do not use pronouns so please use my name when referring to me! Our main blog is here @gutsandg0re

[harmlessghosty]

Hello 👋

I love video game theories and was interested on your views of the Touchstarved demo and what theories you might have on it :)

Oh my gosh, hi! ❤️

I am but a ditzy romance writer, not a lore keeper, but I have thoughts?? Apologies for how much is wrong or ridiculous because I don’t know all the current lore, and the wiki is so bare that I can hardly find anything confirmed by the devs. This is kind of just stream-of-consciousness!

Excuse my format because I don’t know how tumblr works lol

— Leander is a reference to oleander, which is a flower found basically everywhere and a fairly common, beautiful plant despite widely being considered poisonous. It gives me the idea that Leander is NOT someone to mess with and has lots of surface-level escapades (which is implied in canon) with people who find him physically beautiful but not necessarily beautiful on the inside. He also uses many underhanded, mysterious tactics to kill Soulless/Monsters/criminals, you name it. He’s everywhere, everyone knows him, everyone loves him, but he’s very dangerous under that beautiful exterior. Maybe he even kills some innocent people for the right price of big secrets. I bet he knows a LOT about Eridia’s people, so he’s viewed as trustworthy because what else can you do when he knows everything about everyone?

— Interestingly though! Leander’s main flower is the lily?? Lily is super poisonous to cats, which makes me think maybe there will be some sort of connection between Mhin’s stray cats and Leander being a danger to them (or possibly to Mhin themself).

— I feel like Leander gave himself that big scar. Maybe something went horribly wrong when he became a powerful mage. Maybe he went to Ais and the Seaspring even. It’s possible this is why their relationship is strained and they’re always trying to kill each other.

— Ais’ gang didn’t just go for a walk. They died or got turned into Soulless. Maybe after drinking from the Seaspring, after some amount of time, people turn into Soulless. It could be revealed that all the murdering of Soulless ends up being murdering of your fellow humans?? One really big secret.

— Mhin is a stereotypical “broken bird” trope. Super cynical and sarcastic. Went through major trauma and now they’re a hunter with a heart of gold. Not to mention their bird motif that a lot of people say is obvious?? I think that’s an interesting way to look at them.

— Also! “The vultures can smell death.” It gives Mhin the connection to the birds, that they’re turning into a vulture maybe?? Maybe they hate it as well because they’re drawn to stray cats as friends, and vultures go after smaller critters. They’re scared of hurting the only friends they have (including Kuras, who practically took them under his wing). Not to mention it’s a reference to them being able to smell death on the MC.

— Vere and Kuras were both in Eridia since the days it began, and they’ve butted heads for many, many years. Maybe Vere was cursed by Kuras into his current Monster form for having connections to the Senobium. Kuras thought it was funny to give Vere traits of a sneaky fox, maybe not even knowing that they would last forever OR because Vere did something awful to him. That may be the reason Kuras is repenting so much.

— This also can give credence to the idea of Vere saying (paraphrasing), “You’re not a human but not a Monster, like me,” to the MC. He was turned into a Monster rather than born one.

— The “Lloventian knot” Vere mentions, when you look it up, leads you to the “true lover��s knot,” which involves two overhand knots and some parallel ropes. Makes me think he’s got some big secret of a lover he’s lost, or maybe he was just teasing the MC with something that sounded sexual, but it seems odd to have a specific mention of something that may (or may not even??) exist.

— “Danger is drawn to you like a moth to flame,” from Vere. He absolutely can sense something “special” about the MC that, no matter what MC does, they’re in grave danger. Hence why the game description says that the ending can either be lovey-dovey or blood-icingly awful. I don’t know about having theories for this quote, but it feels so very important.

— There’s got to be a riff between Kuras and Mhin at some point for their opinions on the Senobium. I just feel it in my bones.

— Ais was the first to drink from the Seaspring, which is why he’s not technically one of the Groupminds. It also explains why he’s the leader of the gang, since he’s the most sound of mind, but I’m betting he’s scared of Ocudeus. He speaks in such short sentences most of the time because his brain is so muddled. I also find it interesting how the MC has only heard of the Groupminds but never seen one, given their assumed upbringing in a rougher environment. But that’s just kind of my opinion with no real basis in the demo.

— Sparrows symbolize a lot of things, like hope, bravery and friendship. I like to think that Ais picked the nickname for people who come to the Seaspring, because they’re all full of innocent hope that they can be cured. They also symbolize community, so anyone who drinks from the Seaspring is part of one big happy family!

Again, a lot of these could be counteracted by canon content from the devs, but I still think there are lots of fun things to explore about this game, even if I’m not right about a chunk of things. Just think of everything I said as an AU!

[catboymoments]

Now I'm just imaging proud papa Edric just fully sobbing like: Ollie…. look at our baby Ollieeeee…!!!

HES FULL ON JUST. SOBBING AND WAILING AND TEARYYYYY LIKE HES THE ONE WHO GAVE BIRTH. AND OLEANDER IS LIKE “aw honey 🥰🥰”