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precious-little-scoundrel · 8 months

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|| Marlon

Summary: after a strange interlude during one of their latest bike excursions, Elaine is left reeling at the new reality of sharing, and the insistence by the men around her that no more discussion is needed on the matter. Bereft, adrift and not a little curious, Elaine’s rather sure she’s finally crossed that damnable line that Elvis first nudged her up against.

Warnings: 18+ only -smut, hot tubs, pats threesome mentioned, sorta a foot job but only because that’s the only discreet body part nearby?? not trying to make that weird. public play, emotional (and some physical) infidelity. Elvis is in his Bastard era, be warned.

Authors note: this is a fragment but it may be all j ever produce on this subject, we shall see. It was requested and so here it is, such as it is. I always love answering Headcanons and theories so if this sparks interest, confusion or anger, lemme hear it. And Honestly? For those of y’all not into this? It’s not essential enough to be read or considered canon for Sarge, the breakdown of their marriage having only a small part to do with this. This entire side quest is a bit more of an exploration of Elaine, so feel free to leave it be if it’s not for you.

Apologies ahead of time for the poorly edited and misspelled content lol 💋

Circa: 1967ish

“I just saw the silhouette of a very attractive woman ridin’ an attractive man I thought I’d lend a hand.” Marlon answers her straight, Elaine deserves that with all the bullshit she has to deal with these days -threesomes included. And the kitchen is finally empty of kids. He knows whatever arrangement the Presleys have with the redhead has to be more concession than ideal. The least he can do is admit something he’s never hid before, even from Elvis himself: Elaine Presley is uniquely capable of giving him the hots and something about Elvis Presley mismanaging her magnificence tickles the masochistic tendencies Marlon has had it suggested to him by therapists might have a root in childhood perversity. Neglectful parents and weird nannies and that sort of shit.

Marlon doesn’t know. Sat at her kitchen bar, drinking her daughter’s lemonade, Elaine is owed this much, an answer to why he opened that tent flap and slurped cunt when he’s barely so much as held her hand before, not even during mealtime prayers. She’s got to be some sort of neglected if she can’t shake it, or maybe she’s wickeder than those gentle eyes has them all thinking.

“That’s not enou- thats, Marlon, you said yourself everyone used to…go at it..during those trips!” she hisses the last part as if there’s some shame left to this household where the man of the place flaunts his dalliances like it’s part of the press tour for the latest trash comedy. His wife’s dignity and pain be damned.

“Ma’am, I’m just a man.” Marlon insists- Elaine is in love with her husband, after all.

“That’s rather my point!” Elaine warms to it, “-there were a lotta couples you coulda lent a hand to and there were a lotta men loiterin’ about but only you chose to ‘lend a hand’ and you chose…us! Why! Why?”

“Have you seen the couple you make?” he asks levelly.

“What was that, Marlon? What was that?” she begs again, eyes no longer soft but wild and shimmering.

“You’re not this stupid, Elaine.” he takes a sip of lemonade Daisy made just for him, “Even if he likes it best when you act like you are.”

She doesn’t even bat an eye at it, and Marlon thinks it’s a damn shame, a crime really, for any man to wear a woman down this far. Maybe Marlon is as bad as her husband for pushing on the bruise he made. Can’t be helped, he’s always been an opportunist. He can be honest even if it’s a ugly, masculine, virulent truth that makes a mockery of vows and roles and institutions like marriage and dreams.

“Wanna show me just how clever you really are, little lady?“ he’s risen from his seat, sauntered over to her by now, no contact, except for his thumb that tugs at her bottom lip, thumbnail at the root of a tooth. Her eyes are brimming with tears -they both know it’s not sadness. If she were a woman to cry from sadness she'd never have a dry eye.

“The house is full.” Elaine sounds hoarse.

What a flimsy little objection for so virtuous a woman. The way Elaine chases his thumb as he retracts it tells him -try again, when it’s empty, test me once more.

Summers are long in Palm Springs, there’s always more lemonade to be drunk. He’ll be back, they both know that. For now, the house is full. He sits back down at the table. Elvis and five children and a buncha good for nothings he calls friends come in wet from the pool twelve minutes later. Marlon curses, he could have brought her to climax twice in that time. If only she’d stop looking at him like he’s planning to steal her from her husband, give it a few months and she’ll not be wary but eager for it.

Summer turns to Autumn and Autumn to Winter and the Presleys choose to ring in the new year in the gentle climate to California after a bracing Graceland Christmas.

Marlon doesn't know what a Presley Christmas is comprised of except for hearsay from Daisy’s long over the phone account and the toys shown him when he dropped by as soon as they were in town. He’d brought his own kids, the ones near at hand, to play for a bit and the rest had taken to them well enough while Daisy sat beside him and told him about the roller blades she’d gotten. He imagines a sickeningly happy affair with stiff smiles and a great deal of bling bought by Elvis and Elaine getting fucked in a Santa lingerie set.

Marlon doesn’t know about Presley christmases.

But he’s learning about their New Year’s -it’s past twelve, the kids are abed and champagne has been toasted, wishes swapped and the nighttime air rustling the palms has been obliging enough to even be a little brisk and chilly. Just for atmosphere, he guesses.

It’s nice as the hot tub they’re all in is bubbling like hell’s cauldron, with the jets on full blast and their buddies -Elvis’ buddies from the way Elaine is the only woman amongst thirteen men- are stacked in it like sardines. Marlon is here because he hasn’t driven himself home yet, he supposes, otherwise she’d be very alone.

The guys, the other twelve, they’re swapping stories and being loud, noisy and obnoxious as Elaine relaxes in her seat, frothy bubbles lapping around her clavicles and her neck, that lovely neck laying back on Elvis’ outstretched arm as he nearly forgets she’s there. She’s such an extension of him by now, her face lax with this chance to relax even as there’s hubbub all about.

Marlon, he can’t stop watching her and the way her eyes flit and flutter when the jets hit right, the way she melts into Elvis and the way he tolerates her adoration even here. Even at the beginning of a new year. Marlon wants to smack the man for telling anecdotes when he should be-

…

-hell Marlon doesn’t even know what he expects that Elvis should be doing, it’s not like he’s doing anything wrong or mean. no not at all in fact, he’s acting like a longtime married man and letting Elaine Presley vibrate beside him in euphoria unadmired. Talking to his buddies when Elaine Presley is turning to a puddle next to him and all Marlon knows is:

-if it were him, oh if it were him.

If it were him, Elaine would be melting sure, and he’d be watching every second of it like it were the meteor shower of the century. Turns out, even though she’s not his, he’s still watching all the same.

he’s still watching and forgetting to laugh with the cues when everyone else does. But she forgets too, floating away somewhere that makes her lips curl up a little and her face shimmer with sweat and steam. her legs float to the top of the roil from the jets, there’s a little giggle at the buoyancy. pink painted toes surfacing right in front of Marlon’s face opposite her.

He sees her, she looks to Elvis. To see if he notices.

He doesn’t.

That precious giggle of hers is lost in a roar of manly laughter over some unfortunate movie set story, as is the way Marlon’s hand reaches in the foam and puts his palm over the little pruned toes right in front of him, snapping at them with his hand like she’s a kid and he’s playing shark amongst the bubbles.

Elaine’s head swivels from watching Elvis to sending a questioning look towards Marlon.

She catches his eye, holds it. curious and pleased he’s in the same mood as her, stories and memphis mafia forgotten. A connection fizzles between them and she giggles again at having found a playmate.

But then he doesn’t let go, even as her foot goes down in the water, on the ledge, near between his legs and suddenly this isn’t playing shark.

Her posture goes rigid as Marlon starts to rub that dainty foot, engulfed in his warm hand, hidden by the discreet bubbles. He dared. It took her aback, it was offensive and flattering and she felt a violent fear at being suspected and then a pang of jealousy over the unlikeliness of it.

Between the warm water, the firm press of a man’ hand and the pummeling of the jets, her head starts to crane back again against Elvis’ shiny, toned bicep and the picture of a woman enjoying herself next to her husband but not from him shouldn’t make Brando so rash and angry but it does.

She fights for a minute but only in the way of guarding her face. but it’s been awhile since she’s been the center of someone’s universe -beyond a peg that this whole carnival that their life has turned into revolves around. perhaps a step of infidelity to let Brando see the pleasure he gives her, to see her the way Elvis once told her only belonged to him, but it was Elvis who cracked the door first, back in that tent, back in the spring.

Elvis notices, at long last, not the eye contact of a friend and his wife but the mewling body language of his woman. Not that Brando is holding her foot beneath the churning surface but that she looks nearly to the brink of orgasm from the jets. And snuggled up to him as she is -Elvis smirks. Of course his widdle baby is excited, sensitive little creature that she is.

Elvis thinks he’s being secretive when he keeps chatting with the guys but sneaks his hand to her bathing suit, not even looking over at her as his fingers find her seam and wiggle under.

Just the motion of his arm visible and Marlon sees the reflection in her face the minute her husband's hand begins to stroke her. His grip tightens on her foot involuntarily and she moans.

Her eyes are utterly focused on Marlon and it’s well that they are, if she were to tear away that frantic gaze he’s mad enough to make a scene right here and now, hopeless and damaging as it would be. But he has her eyes and the power that is in the caress of his thumb. He can see it, Elaine is imagining he’s stroking her instead of Elvis, using that suggestive tempo on her arch as a conduit to replace the coax of Elvis’ calloused pads against her bud.

Elaine braces her hand on Elvis’ thigh as she nears, just a reflex as he speeds his fingers up and she’s grips his thigh, almost wanting him not to intrude on this moment even as the brink nears. And Elvis, he thinks she’s trying to reciprocate but he is hardly in the mood for it, that would ruin his little game so he takes her hand away, puts it firmly back on her own lap and keeps up his pace against her slick petals.

When she comes, Elvis can feel her bow up beside him and without even looking he is smirking around his cigarillo, her legs kick out in a spasm and he feels bad for whoever’s crotch is opposite her. He smacks at her pussy once, twice, before quite obviously turning away from her to ask Charlie something related to arrangements.

It’s a damn game he likes to play with Elaine, seeing as she don’t mind it, she gets some benefit from it and he’s seen that face a million times, he doesn't need to look.

But Marlon.

Marlon’s gaze on Elaine is heavy enough it feels like the caress of aftercare all on its own, and some stinging part of Elaine’s battered heart feels loyalty to him for that. for watching her, delighting in her even as everyone else snickers or ignores.

She flexes her foot in his hand.

Her flex touches tender flesh and up to where he is pulsing and firm between his thick thighs. It startles her, somehow not expecting either the usual anatomy or else -not this level of arousal. Not to this degree, not in public, not when her husband just claimed her so casually. Her eyes sting at being flaunted as his little plaything, the one she’s been happy to be since that honeymoon train ride down to Texas. It feels belittling suddenly, and it’s Marlon’s aloof admiration to blame.

She flexes her foot again, heel firm to his base and eyes unwavering. A little repayment, a little show of thanks. It’s too much.

Marlon covers his eyes with his hand as if to wipe the mist away. Her coal smudged eyes are scorching his face and her foot, such a lowly part of her, and yet it’s pressing and he’s wanted her to admit to wanting for such a longtime and suddenly there’s the feel of his warm release flashing against Elaine’s foot in the broiling hot tub for an instant. Only an instant splash and a thob, then it swirls around them all, lost and sordid and utterly misused.

A waste. A deadbeat hope. A torn confession.

It’s late when they all get out, Elaine can barely meet his eyes now, dazed she willingly did that herself. Up in their room Elvis shucks his wet shorts off, relaxed and in a good mood to tease her about her being so needy for him in the tub as he leaves the shorts where they drop on the carpet and puts himself in her, into his wife, his plaything, his darling.

And God help her, for the first time in her life Elaine’s mind wanders to someone else as Elvis’ face is buried in her neck, huffing in pleasure over her swollen state.

After a long while of waiting for them to show again downstairs, the Memphis mafia laugh it off that the mister and missus must’ve gotten distracted -and it’s lights out and manly predictions about a noise complaint and a happy start to the new year.

Marlon goes to his damn car, he exits that beautiful house into the balmy night air with its twinkling stars and strong humidity that will now forever be tied to the curls at the nape of her neck and the beads of moisture on her nose, and he saunters away from Elaine Presley’s house where Elvis Presley gets to go home. Go home to lose interest and gain interest in that gorgeous woman at whim. Brando leaves it and gets in his car and stares at the single light in the house that’s still glowing for far too long.

Upstairs, throbbing and staring at the beamed ceiling and its whitewashed villa tile, Elaine startles at the sound of a car starting and pulling out of the drive. It’s late for a loitering guest, but Marlon was always one to loiter when it came to her family. Loiters with the kids and loiters with Daisy, accepting her adoption of his Godfather responsibilities with ease Elaine wants to hate him for, and he loitered in the tent on their motorcycle drive when Elvis and Elaine should have been left alone to be husband and wife, yet -he loitered. That once he had stayed. And no one speaks of it, that night gone by, though it tumbles around in Elaine’s mind like the jets that battered her flesh tonight, fresh as anything: the feel of Elvis’ shock at Brando’s presumption and then her husband’s pride warring with his excitement and for her -the feel of a man licking at her while her husband was inside her. How Elvis can think such a night can be tabled for all further discussion is beyond her, and Elaine stares at the ceiling and prays for forgiveness for this wild curiosity that has finally led her astray. She’s as bad as the papers would make her. Voracious and untamable in her appetites, finally it’s gone beyond Elvis alone, even if he was the one to crack open the floodgate with his hubris.

Now she wonders about an older face, a broader chest, almost fleshy shoulders and a hairy belly in the glow of the jacuzzi lights, Marlon had looked a man, older and impressive and unfamiliar compared to her precious and ever more pristine husband. And she had seen behind the screen of his hand the flash of agonized ecstasy her touch had caused him. She had made another man lose it. Someone besides Elvis. She knew, hypothetically, that a whole generation of boys had grown up tugging themselves to pictures of her, half of the barracks has been besotted and not in a wholesome way. But to have an older, impressive, commanding man enjoy her, want her?

Elaine throbbed.

There had been an emotional and sexual adjustment that Elaine had to make when she went from marrying a controlling manchild to being his emotional ballast and superior after losing Jo. Elaine hadn’t had a chance to think twice about how suited to it she was, how natural it felt to ease Elvis through it, whether she herself found it nice or not, whether it’s what she needed or not. Or what all she lost as she did so. It had been like pulling teeth to have him back in her bed at all, to have him something besides manically cheerful or pitifully morbid. She understood him. She didn’t even blame him. But it didn’t change how very -open, it left her to the slightest firmness of intent shown by another.

She’d been enjoying stepping into Gladys’ shoes, she’d been enjoying tossing off the role of being Elvis’ dolly and becoming his nanny, all of it had been a show of his trust in her until the load had become too heavy and when she turned to someone to rest her head, she found her husband's head already in her lap.

Until Marlon.

Until a grunted “huh” above her in the stuffy garage as she worked on the bike, only for her to look up and to find it wasn’t Charlie or Marty snickering at her for being all greasy again. It had been a wide stanced superstar looking at her like she was a specimen he wanted to inspect.

It had been Marlon and he’d come to meet her, to talk to her about bikes, to admire her shape in leathers and he stayed because Daisy liked him so.

Or maybe he’d stayed for Elaine. That had been reprehensible to imagine before tonight, perhaps only because if there was a man out there who would dare try to take her from The King, it would be him. And before now that had been impossible, not even fathomable or feasible, if she didn’t think it she wouldn’t invite it, she was sure. Marlon Brando wasn’t a good man, but he could be kept contained if kept at arms length.

Now though, that vision of him staring tonight, the feel of his hand stroking her, competing with her husband for her pleasure -there’s no ignoring now how he looks at her, has looked for some time, the way he loves to see her riled but not at him, strange how he’s never infuriated her like Elvis endeavors to on a daily basis. As if he knows his very presence is thrumming enough for her. And he wouldn’t want to see her vibrate apart. Not fully. Only because she’d hate that so. But if she ever asked he’d take her apart like a little marionette and then glue her back.

Rattling, that was more Elvis’ speciality, rattling her apart. She was tired of buzzing. If only he could always be one thing, but lately he was a myriad and she felt married to a performer more each day until she lay beneath him and wondered how Marlon would feel penetrated deep within her.

Elaine hears Elvis and his shower turn off at the same time she strains to hear the mechanical creak of the gates opening to let Brando out.

“Still layin’ how I left ya, hopin’ f’more, baby?” her husband asks her as he turns the light out and lays against her warm and familiar and moist.

In the drive, Brando bites his lip and forces his gaze from the rearview and the darkened house in it and speeds out of the hills. Daisy will call again soon enough, the call again and again, and if he’s lucky he’ll hear about how Elaine is from time to time or even hear her voice briefly as she answers before passing the receiver off to her little girl. Those are certainties in the new year.

It’s wicked of him, but his hopes are entirely different. They’re of her calling, and not another excuse being made.

Just Elaine calling to tell him “the house is empty.”

Taglist:

@prompted-wordsmith

@powerofelvis

@crash-and-cure

@elvisabutler

@heartbrake-hotel

@stylespresleyhearted

@thatbanditqueen

@crazymadpassionatelove

@myradiaz

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@burningloverdoll

@angelface-555

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@18lkpeters

@richardslady121

@from-memphis-with-love

@lillypink

@artlover8992

@pennyroyalcreep

@notstefaniepresley

@ellie-24

@waiting4brucewayne2adoptme

@presleyenterprise

@marriedtopresley

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samnia · 9 months

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ERICSON KIDS WITH AN S/O WHO USED TO BE APART OF A SINGING TRIO PT.1

For example, think about rnb, hip-hop, pop, and K-pop girl groups.

Fem reader

Marlon:

You never told him, he found out by himself. Marlon was looking through the principal's office for shits and giggles, right? Then he came across an album that contained a picture of you and 2 other people. You all looked pretty young. That's how he knew it was before the walkers existed.

"Y/n, come here for a second." Marlon said, excitement in his tone. You walked over, and he helped you huddle down. "Look what I found!" He handed you the cd. "Oh my god! I forgot about this. Marlon, where'd you find it?" You asked in shock.

"I guess the headmaster had a copy. Y/n, I didn't see you as that type of girl." He teased, you took a relieved sigh. "What can I say? The chance was presented, so I took it." You rested your head on Marlon's shoulder.

"This was my favorite, I swear there was a Cd player layin around."

Violet:

She found out at another one of Ruby's hootenanny. It was time for music to play. A.J. and Willy was dancing with glee while Tenn hyped them up. You sat down and watched with Violet. Dancing just isn't your strong suit. "Now this song is more modern.

It was my Mama's favorite!" Ruby voiced, she played the song. the beat gave you deja vu. "Y/n, you alright? You look kinda pale." Violet asked with concern. You nodded your head. It was only when the first chorus started to play. You realized something.

It was the song you made with some other girls and made a song.. It was getting deadly close to your part of it. You started to sweat a bit. "You don't seem fine. What's wrong?" Violet muttered. She wrapped her hand around your shoulder

"This is my song. My part is coming up real soon." You chuckled out. before she could reply, your voice came on the player, bright as ever. Everyone and anybody looked at you in shock. "Wow, you sound really amazing." Violet claimed, "you think so?" You asked. "Yeah."

Louis:

He first found out through the card game. When Clementine asked if they ever met anyone famous, you decided to speak on your own experiences.

"Kinda, I was a part of singing trio. Those kinds of things. It was for 3 years, though.." Soon as you uttered those words, he started to flood you with questions. Did you ever blow up like crazy? What were your favorite tunes to perform? Oh, and where in the world are the other two? You seemed to like and entertain his questions.

Eventually, someone intervened, " Louis, knock it off!" But that didn't stop the both of you from fooling around somewhere else. Just two melodic idiots whistling into the distance.

Mitch:

You and Mitch had just found a working van capable of carrying a lot of people. But it needs a bit of renovation if everyone wants in. You bought Clementine, Willy, A.J., and Assim along. Mostly because Mitch and Clementine want this to be a learning moment for their adoptive siblings. But Assim is there to actually work. "Mitch and Y/n, we're going to need some parts to get this thing going. It'd be nice if you went and got us these things. Go out further if you have to." Clementine offered.

"Sure, anything to get out of here," Mitch exaggerated. Clem handed me the paper. It had all the car parts and where they're located.You two have been walking for a while. You came across a vehicle with some stuff inside, "Mitch, I found one." You yelled. He came over quick. "No walkers?" Mitch checked. "Nope," you reassured. He used a crowbar to force it open and then started to search.

You joined him, looking into the front seat. You found a rolled up poster in arm rest. You were about to unroll it until Mitch called your name, "Y/n! Come here, we really hit the jackpot!" Y/n came out with the poster in hand. Mitch was supposedly siphoning gas. A whole lot was coming out of the tube and in the canister. "Damn, this can last us a lifetime." You claimed. "What's that?" He asked, pointing to your hand. "A poster I found. Im gonna open it up right now." You told him. Mitch got up from the ground and standed next to her

Y/n unraveled it, only for a wave of shock to overrun her face. Mitch had catched a glimpse of it, too. "Holy shit, y/n- is that you?" He beamed, a picture of you and two other girls were holding bubble letters, spelling something out. A lot of junk was on it, so it wasn't readable. One word was crystal clear, "concert."

"It's been so long, I didn't even get to perform." You marveled. "How did you even get the chance?" He questioned. "Oh, I didn't mean it like that!"

Y/n sighed, "My parents were friends with one of the girls' mom. She got me on set." You paused, "if I remember the poster came with an cd. Maybe it's in here."

Please send requests, no smut.

#twdg marlon headcanon #x reader #female #fem reader #violet x reader #twdg louis x reader #twdg marlon #twdg marlon imagine #louis twdg #mitch twdg x reader #mitch x reader #mitchtwdg #twdg fanfiction #twdg fanfic

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taperecorder-gizmo-the-second · 28 days

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OMG GUYS GUYS

THIS SONG

BUT ITS N AND UZI

#murder drones #murder drones n #murder drones uzi #md #md uzi #md n #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA IMAGINE THO ITS PERFECT #EVEN THE VOICES SOUND SIMILAR TO THEM!!!!!!#Spotify #marlon rambles #going insaaaane

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reallyghostlypost · 8 months

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What if Lance was present during the Void Shard cutscene?

Marlon was obviously worried but didn't show much reactions to the news, since he's not a wizard and he probably spends little time in the Badlands, but Lance would be much more familiar both with what is happening there and the meaning behind the shard itself. He'd be an interesting addition to the event.

I'm not even sure Marlon and Magnus are aware how massive and strong Apophis is after the cutscene, they seem to act like it's just a bigger serpent and not the king of all the corrupted monsters in the Badlands. It's possible that whatever teams will be sent to fight Apophis will be in great danger simply for severely underestimating the monster even after the farmer warns them (in part because they also underestimate the farmer).

Lance is more familiar with the monsters there (and he researches monsters for a living), he'd probably ask a lot more questions about the much larger and stronger serpent the farmer battled for once. I assume he's at least be interested in how much larger the serpent was and farmer's answer will shock him at lot more. After all he spent a lot of time fighting in the Badlands and he never encountered anything like that.

So he would also be curious about where this serpent was when the farmer fought it, at least to make sure both him and his colleagues can at least not stumble upon the monster unprepared. The fact that Apophis is hiding in a place adventurers never reach is also something Marlon and Magnus never learned, again probably because they are not very familiar with the Badlands, not in the same way someone who fights there weekly would be. And Lance would be able to understand just how weird that is by remembering how deep in the Badlands he himself reached. Apophis seems to always be just barely out of reach for adventurers to meet him, why didn't he ever left his territory to go after the ones who got close to the boneyard?

And finally he would have more to say about the shard itself. He's more familiar with the void magic and the corruption happening in the Badlands than Marlon, so he'll understand how dangerous and unusual that shard is as soon as he'll see it. He's also probably not trained in communicating with the elementals like Magnus is, but he probably understands enough about it to ask more questions. And he'll definitely discuss more with Marlon what the shard shattering means. Or at least he'll try but Magnus will probably rush them both to the Ministry.

Since he can visit the Ministry as a wizard he'll leave with Magnus I assume. And although he'll probably be forbidden to talk about the Ministry's decision he'll still give a few for hints than Magnus. Like mentioning that he's worried or how unusual Apophis is even for the Badlands or something.

(This would mean he'd also be more familiar with the shard's energy and when the farmer will end up with the Seal of Silence on them he'll be more aware with what that means and panic more about it. After all, whoever is responsible for the Corruption not only took a personal interest in the farmer but also forces them to not talk about anything relating to it. The farmer could get tortured every few days for all Lance knows and he wouldn't be able to do anything about it, or even know about it since the farmer can't even ask for help. And if the shard self destructed when Magnus tried to learn more about it who's to say the Seal won't kill the farmer if Lance starts asking them questions about it? It's a lot more dramatic this way :D Imagine the worry and the guilt for not being able to protect the farmer🤤)

#so i unlocked the event once with lance in the guild when i bought the shard to marlon #found it now in my notes #of course its possible that marlon and magnus asked the farmer a lot more questions than what we see on screen #but the event feels really urgent and it seems magnus left really fast after the shard self destructed #not sure they had time to ask the farmer about too many details #lance and magnus panicking about the seal and what happens to the farmer #watching the farmer closely and imagining every bruise and every time the farmer is stressed as a sign of some huge tragedy #thats happening to their friend without them knowing about it #all while the farmer visits qi weekly and grows hundreds of blue melons for him #its a very funny idea #the farmer isnt even aware of how much they worry their friends #sve headcanon #sve theory #sve lance

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