#wait wait and i was on EXPERT too?? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pillowenvelopchair · 2 years ago

Text

Hi again!! This is my other analysis/ramble on SWRD which was written by @un-local (hi again), this time I'll be mainly talking about D and Fia for this :0)

The way everyone is written out is so interesting. I've noticed some small things that I could maybe link up to some other stuff I've noticed from my other ramble. Again, probably not a lot of new insights, just me going insane.

Darian’s grief

We don't meet D until chapter 11 (well, we do in chapter 5 but he’s not properly introduced there so I’m not counting it) and when we do meet him he leaves quite an impression

D, when we meet him in chapter 11 he is absolutely just pissed because of Rogier.

Rogier had gone after the thing that had made his brother rot from the inside out. And now that Rogier's gone to fuck around with it, he’s going end up like his brother. Rotting from the inside out.

Rogier knows what happened to Devin so why would he still go for it?

It strengthens his beliefs, almost. That TWLID should all be expunged. He does it earnestly but it’s not only because the Order casts them out but also because (though, it is probably his main reason) he doesn’t want anyone else to end up like his brother. It's a sort of revenge, for taking his brother away from him.

"He remembers the glint of his armor catching the firelight. The way his hand clung unsteadily on the hilt of his sword as he gathered himself, after his tirade. The wavering breath he took. Darian was as stoic as they came—made of beautiful stone, it truly seemed at times—but in that moment, even his voice shook." -Chapter 5

D is very similar to Rogier. He whole heartedly believes in something and puts his whole being into it. His resolve on the Order and his goal to expunge Death strengthens after his brother rots after they've messed with Death.

Both of their goals were made/strengthened by a loss that had broken the both of them.

Yet despite that, their goals are complete opposites. Neither one of them is willing to back down on their beliefs, wholeheartedly believing in everything that they strive to do. They have lost so much that they can't afford to back down and it breaks everything that they have.

D still cares

“—Damn fool, could never let it go, could you?” He makes to cast another incantation. “Searched for Death, and you—” His gauntlet, ablaze with an amber glow, comes down once more. “—Fucking found it,” he snarls. Another surge of light. Another impact of his hand. Another ferocious cry. “You bastard, you should’ve left it alone—” There’s a shake in his voice, as he forces the words through his teeth. Still, Rogier remains unresponsive. " -Chapter 11

(This entire thing makes me so sad oh my god. You can just feel D's hurt here)

D still very much cares for Rogier, and it really shows despite what has happened between the two of them. Notice how he's the first one to help Rogier when Magdalene enters the hold, and how he's the one saying the incantations to heal him, despite spitting out grief-filled bites toward Rogier.

I think in this moment he got flashbacks to Devin. The same vines that have taken his brother away are taking away another he cares about (me once again reaching).

Despite their differences in ideology, D still holds onto Rogier and what they had in the past.

So he heals desperately, spitting out all of his anger, his grief towards a man he had thought would have known better.

"It’s all too obvious that this is not for her eyes. It’s personal, it’s raw, and it is entirely not her business. She looks away into the hearth, beset with an absurd urge to slink away. To let D scream at him in peace, till his voice gives out." -Chapter 11

“This,” He jerks his chin down to Rogier, “This is why you don’t meddle with Death. It ruins you, in ways you can’t even fathom.” “It takes everything from you.” -Chapter 11

“Heed the lesson,” is all he says. And after another moment of standing over Rogier’s unconscious body—in a way that distinctly strikes her as hovering—D leaves the room. “We’ll see if he makes it to morning,” he says, pausing at the doorway. -Chapter 11

Magdalene is just a bystander for the two exes fighting lol (well, it's just D being mad at Rogier, really, Rogier isn’t particularly mad at D but Rogier still bites when D does). She's just tired, give her a rest (with some prawns too).

“I will help.” It’s less of an offer and more of an order. Before Magdalene can respond, he continues. “I will accompany you, as your brother-in-arms. Help you vanquish the Death in that place,” He pauses. She can’t see his eyes under the helmet, but she feels his gaze on her all the same. It’s liable to catch her on fire, how intense it feels. “No more, you understand?” At that, Magdalene slowly nods. “Thank y—” But D holds up a hand. His voice has a new kind of friction in it, one that stops her. “Don’t.” His hand falls. “It is my duty. Nothing more.” So he says. The other motives he has, he seems loath to discuss them. In fact, he seems loath to even have them. So once again, Magdalene gives him a slow nod." -Chapter 15

Anything he does that opposes the Order, I believe he tries to reason it to think that it's still within the Order. That it is still within his duty to assist Magdalene with acquiring the knifeprint. That this is all within his goal to expunge TWLID (even though by doing this he's helping Rogier to save TWLID).

He suppresses his own personal desire to help Rogier. To him, this is just probably one last favor for a dead man (this is me rambling lol).

Masks, people, MASKS!

Also really like how D's mask hides his expressions:

"His helmet tells her nothing of his expression as he looks back at her."

"She can’t see his eyes under the helmet, but she feels his gaze on her all the same. It’s liable to catch her on fire, how intense it feels." -Chapter 15

"He regards her, but his helmet reveals nothing. -Chapter 16

“Take well the lesson, friend.” Despite the blank expression on his helmet, she can feel his eyes burning into her. “That's how you end up, when seduced by Those Who Live in Death.” -Chapter 16

We don't know what facial expression he's making, only his tone of voice and body language give us a hint of what he feels. It adds a veil of mystery to him almost. But to Rogier? It's obvious.

“Then spare me the sermon.” The huff Darian gives is animalistic, and wholly agitated, but it’s a tell: a self-righteous tirade was exactly what he had planned."

"Abruptly, the scrape of a chair fills the room. Darian takes a seat before him, the racket of his armor announcing it as he does. There’s a furrow in Darian’s brow. He only meets Rogier’s eyes for a moment, before he looks off, to somewhere far away. His expression changes, into one he’s seen many more times. He’s got that intensity in his eyes that says he’s thinking. That swallow he just did, the way his eyes never stay in one place, that jerk of his lips—it tells Rogier it’s a conundrum of some kind, that Darian’s in. Darian rests his free hand on his knee, taking in a deep breath. The fingers of his other hand tap against the helmet tucked under his arm. Ah. What Darian needs is permission. Rogier feels his brow raise a little, as a smile forms. “So, you have other matters on your mind?” -Chapter 18

Rogier immediately recognizes D's body language, not only that but also the language that D uses. Rogier immediately knows what D wants with or without the helmet (probably used to reading people's body language because of him being an ex-noble and his whole politics thing)

He immediately knows what D needs just by watching his body language, even after all this time.

When D removes his mask you know shit's real lol. This is something deeply personal to him, to both of them. So he removes that one last guard and reveals his face bare.

Just for a moment

“She’s hardly got the decorum you did,” Darian says, making one of his toothless little jabs, “but at least she could keep her mouth shut.” “Rogier can't help but arch a brow. “Interesting, coming from the man who spends half the battle grandstanding. Tell me,” he says, with a pleasant grin and a sly tone: “How long’d she fight alone, before you finally thought up a witticism and really started swinging?” -Chapter 18

It's bittersweet, how they go back to their old banter. They fall back to their old patterns and Rogier teases him like how he would (probably) used to in those bygone days. D even laughs after Rogier says this. In that moment it felt that "everything that sets them apart is inconsequential." (Ch. 18)

But that moment doesn't last long before reality catches onto them. Their principles and their faith come back and it just shatters that moment.

Trauma feeding into his beliefs

"Finally, Darian sighs, and his entire stance slackens. “I suppose it doesn’t matter.” He says it with such defeat, as though the deathblight in Rogier has killed him already. It makes a sort of sense, all of the sudden, that he would think that. It was always all or nothing with Darian. One thing or the other, but never both. Holy or heretic. Ally or enemy. And apparently, either wholly saved or wholly dead." -Chapter 18

Darian is a man who believes in extremes, never in between (and so does Fia with regards to TWLID). He wholly believes that the Order is correct, that it is the truth of the world. I doubt having his brother being taken away by Godwyn's roots helps either.

But he refuses to listen to what Rogier has to say, because "there’s no room in Darian’s faith for uncertainty, for questions. There’s no room for examination, for adaptation. The answers can never change, and he can never be wrong. If the Order is infallible, then so is he." (Ch.18)

As of right now, he refuses to change. He cannot accept anything that is heretical, that opposes the Order he holds up. I think that it's hard for him to let go of his beliefs for just a moment and hear out Rogier because of the loss of his brother.

"And apparently, either wholly saved or wholly dead" (Ch. 18). D truly believes that Rogier will die because he has seen firsthand what happened to his brother. It’s taken Devin away from him, so why would Rogier be an exception to it?

Fia

“A puppeteer if he ever saw one. Takes one to know one…” -Chapter 12

Rogier needs control. And he does have some semblance of control. It's sort of why he’s overthinking everything once he's stuck in the hold. He needs that control to be able to feel safe (ahh... nobility and politics...). Also Fia is quite literally a puppeteer, the whole Deeproot fight is just her puppets lol.

Played like a fiddle (Magdalene)

Fia is someone who truly is a mastermind. She's sort of the one who's controlling the curtains, so to speak.

She heard everyone's troubles, she knows so much.

She was able to get Rogier’s fragile walls to break. She even sort of manipulates Mags to get the knifeprint saying that it’s to further Rogier's goals (without telling her it also furthering her own goals), she was even able to kill D of all people and gets part of the rune mark of Death (you go, girl).

"As she enters Hewg’s domain, a voice stops her. “If I may?” Fia. She stands in the doorway across from her, her hands delicately resting on its frame. Without a word, she beckons Magdalene over. In her room, Fia seats herself on the bed. Magdalene hovers a few paces away, until Fia wordlessly opens her arms to her. Without preamble, Magdalene falls onto her knees before the bed, accepting the embrace. Fia wraps her arms around her. Magdalene lets herself sink further into Fia's arms, closing her eyes. That’s the thing with Fia: her touch is slight as a ghost, but entirely tender. It’s entirely unique to her. Magdalene feels the tension in her body begin to dissipate." -Chapter 14

Fia is someone who is naturally calming. Her velvety voice and entire aura beckons you to be relaxed within her presence. She whispers words to you when you are at your weakest (girlboss, manipulate).

She uses it to her advantage here with Magdalene.

Magdalene has witnessed something that's traumatizing as hell. She saw how "there’s blood, but up close she sees there’s also... there’s tendrils, vines, something black wrapped around his legs. They’re piercing them, burrowing into his trousers and boots." (Ch. 10)

Body horror in media is one thing but to actually see something like that with your very own eyes? Yikes.

Magdalene in the hold is just disassociating the entire time. "She lets numbness take her" (Ch. 11) as she and D try their best to salvage whatever they can. She sort of wants to escape the situation, probably to try and process everything that's happened so far.

When D leaves the room her body goes lax but her mind doesn't (crazy how she's able to stay up for so long, she literally fought Godrick and helped out Rogier). No one knows what'll happen to Rogier later, and it's probably making her super restless. Also, the whole traumatizing experience of seeing someone you know do something that fucks them doesn't help at all.

Magdalene afterwards, is sort of aimless again. She doesn't know how to help. She's not like D or Cohyrn who knows incantations or is she book smart like Rogier. She's just someone who's woken up back from the dead and trying her best (good lord someone give this girl real food and a bed).

So, Fia whispers words of how she could help Rogier, carefully hiding away the fact that this would also further her own goals. She kind of gives her a new purpose (albeit a temporary one). This is how she can help.

And it works. Magdalene immediately sets out to find the knifeprint for Rogier. (I also think in part that Mags HATES being useless, it makes her restless)

Their game

The game Fia and Rogier play reminds me of two animals circling each other. The both of them observe carefully for when the other one pounces. It's familiar to Rogier, who's practiced in political schemes. Yet both of them never pounce. This is like Rogier's political fight in here lol

Small slip

At the doorway, she turns back. “I know it makes you uneasy, but I think I’d like to visit you again, sometime.” She speaks with such gentleness—despite everything, it’s soothing to him. He could get lost in it once more, so easily. -Chapter 26

Rogier almost slips with how Fia talks. Her voice velvet almost gets him trapped like a fly to a spider's web (I saw MindfulExorcism's comment on this and it just stuck with me, I probably would've never noticed that if I didn't read their comment). I really like this part a lot.

That's all for my crazy rambles again!! I swear the more I look there's like a billion other things I want to talk about lol. Happy Saturday everyone, have a good rest!!

#I lied guys. I can't wait.#i am not an expert on grief #I absolutely love how these two are written they feel like real people and not just words put together #she just kills her fling's ex and fades away like HELLO #I laughed so hard when that happened #sorry D...#I'll probably edit this in the morning when I obsessively reread the whole thing again on my phone and catch grammatical errors #and or when I remember another thing #elden ring #d hunter of the dead #fia #fia the deathbed companion #rogier #sorcerer rogier #magdalene #swrd #envelope rambles #sorry if there r like inconstancies with mu formatting its like 1 am for me right nwo #i think i talked wayyy too much about mags here when it was supposed to be fia centric #WHOOPS #this was written in a spur of motivation #edited to put in the link to the fic! extremely sorry- i just noticed it while going through my account

5 notes · View notes

your-internet-bf · 1 year ago

Text

It's been a while since you've seen a doctor, and you're nervous as you follow the nurse back to my office. What's there to be nervous about, this is just a little checkup, right? You notice the nurse's manicured burgundy nails as she knocks sharply on the door. She turns to you, smiling prettily, and says, "the doctor will see you now."

You push open the door and enter quite a large room. The nurse follows, closing the door behind you. In the center is the examination table, off to the right is a small crowd of young adults, appearing to be made up of men and women, and on the left is me, seated at my desk. "Welcome," I say, standing and extending one hand. My voice is deep, warm, and smooth, and you fumble for a moment, blushing a little, before you remember to shake my hand. Your hand is dwarfed in mine, my strong fingers encircling you, and a thought flashes unbidden through your mind - what would those fingers feel like inside you? - but, come on now, that's really not appropriate...

"I have a few students with me, as you can see. Is that alright?"

"Well, yes, of course!" Why shouldn't it be?

"Excellent. Now, I'm pioneering this new full-body examination method - it's really quite extraordinary, the maladies I can detect this way - but be warned, it is, shall we say, unorthodox. Is that alright?"

Just for a moment, you see something in my eyes, something behind the genial smile and gentle, reassuring tone. Just for a moment, you feel like some specimen, some piece of meat, pinned down under the lights with nowhere to go... but just for a moment. Surely, nothing bad can happen, and I'm a doctor, aren't I? You can trust me. So you swallow your fear, and you acquiesce.

"Excellent! Let's have a seat on the table, if you don't mind, and we'll make a start. Nurse V, if you would..."

As you sit on the table, the clinical, sterile seating a little cold against your skin, the pretty nurse steps behind the table, facing you, waiting for something. From your right, I approach, and you feel again just how much larger than you I am as my broad shoulders block out one of the ceiling lights. With all these people watching you, it takes all you have not to squeeze your legs together, just a little bit.

We begin with a quick examination of your face - "you have beautiful eyes, you know," I purr into one ear. I place one hand on the side of your neck and tilt your head; god, you've been reading too much, haven't you, the way you want these strong, expert fingers to close around your throat.

"Now, open your mouth for me, please." You oblige, and I cup your chin and slide my thumb into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. Your eyebrows jump in surprise, and you look at me questioningly.

I smile again, still inside you. "Unorthodox, remember? Now, close your mouth and try to swallow." From behind, the nurse strokes your cheek with the back of one hand, and you feel a sudden ache between your legs. You close your lips around my thumb and swallow. It tastes... clean, mostly, as one might expect from a doctor, but you can taste the sweat underneath.

"Very good, one more time for me."

You swallow again, and you feel me slide my thumb over the surface of your tongue, pressing down, swirling in circles.

"And, one more time... yes, that's it, good job, very good job."

The praise for this degrading task is more than you can bear, and you squeeze your thighs together. Fuck, it's humiliating, everyone just saw you do that... All these eyes on you, the beautiful nurse behind you, this big, strong doctor with these big, strong hands and that big fucking bulge... but no, this is just a checkup, nothing is going to happen, right?

While you were thinking, I dried my hand off and had begun speaking.

"I'm - I'm sorry?"

"No worries. I was saying, can you remove your top, please? We need to examine your heart and your breathing."

You stare at me. "Remove my - "

"Yes, remove your top. The fewer barriers between me and you, the less interference with my examination." My face is quite serious, almost bored - this really must be routine. You look back at the nurse, and she smiles slightly and nods. So you undress, your nipples betraying you, standing at attention. You blush as the crowd of students looks at you intently. The nurse lays one warm hand on your shoulder, slender fingers gripping you reassuringly, and your eyes are drawn once more to those burgundy nails.

I step in close, and you feel my breath warm on your chest. "Now, observe the stiffness in the patient's nipples - this is to be expected, given the cool air, and it's certainly nothing to be ashamed of," I say, smiling. I press my stethoscope up over your heart, the metal cold on your skin, and your mind is betrayed by the pounding of your heart. My eyes flick up to meet yours, and I grin, predatorily, and once again you feel like a piece of meat beneath the lights.

I examine your breasts, starting with your left. Enclosed in my big, strong hands, I squeeze and push, prod and pull, ostensibly feeling for any abnormalities, but the way my fingers brush over your nipples, the intensity with which I sink them into your soft breasts, heaving now as your breath comes faster... My practiced tongue rasps over one nipple and a tiny moan escapes your lips as you try desperately to hide how much you're enjoying this; try desperately, and fail.

Abruptly, I pull back. "Excellent! All seems well here." I rest one hand on your other shoulder and turn to the students. "Note the pleasure response during this section of the examination, and I hope you were paying attention to the oral technique."

I turn back to you, my eyes dancing as they meet yours. "Fully undress, if you would. The inspection must continue."

Your hands tremble as you slide your clothes down off your waist, and the nurse aids you, her lovely hands stroking along your thighs and calves as she does.

"And spread for us, please."

Obediently, your thighs open, exposing your cunt, your needy, aching wetness, to all.

"Note the beauty of the patient's sex, here. The shape of the folds," I murmur, tracing one finger along your sensitive lips, "the balanced ratio of the clitoris to the vulva overall," sliding two fingers on either side of your clit, squeezing gently between them, "the appropriate pleasure response in - "

You lose what I say as I plunge two fingers inside you, powerful and dextrous, knuckles slipping past your tightness easily. It feels so fucking good to finally have something inside you, after all this aching and teasing, and god, so many people are watching, they're all watching your pussy spread and toyed with by this big, strong, handsome older man, and now the nurse's slender fingers are across your throat and her lips are on your forehead, and she tells you that you're doing so well for me, you've been so good...

My fingers press up inside you, finding your g spot, and with my thumb rubbing on your clit, I start melting you. Waves of pleasure course through your body, you gasp, moan, whimper, and with your eyes closed you can't tell whose lips are so soft on yours, but it feels so fucking good, and all those people are watching and it makes you want it more, your back arching, chest heaving, melting under the attention, and finally, mercifully, you cum, contracting around my fingers, squeezing your thighs together, trembling, shaking, gasping for air. You hear me say something, but you're so overwhelmed with pleasure that all you can make out from my speech is "very, very good".

The hand withdraws from your throat, and I gently, gently, extricate my fingers, and settle my hand atop one thigh, fingers slick with your desire.

The nurse whispers affirmation in your ear as I address the class. "Stimulation in this manner, of the two most sensitive sex stimuli, brings the most consistent and powerful orgasms to those possessing these organs." I stroke the inside of your thigh reassuringly, before turning to you.

"The final part of this examination is seeing how well you handle penetration. I'm going to need your unequivocal verbal consent before proceeding."

The nurse leans in and whispers into your ear, "might I suggest 'please, sir, will you fuck me?'" You'd blush harder if you could.

You swallow, nervously, and there's a twisting in your gut as you say it. "Please," you begin, voice cracking. "Please, sir, will you fuck me?"

"Yes, that is sufficient. I must say, though," I warn, unzipping my jeans, "that I am quite large." I slap my cock down on your tummy, and the sheer weight of it shocks you. You've seen size like this in porn, sure, but fuck, you've never touched something like this. When you tear your gaze away from my cock, I'm grinning down at you, predatory again. "You can back out at any time, you know." My voice is low, teasing, challenging. "Should we continue?"

You nod shakily, and spread your legs a little wider.

One hand on your raised knee, one hand guiding my cock, I push against you. For a moment you realize the exam had to be done in this order; if you weren't so fucking wet, there's no chance you'd be able to take me. But all thoughts are blasted out of your mind as I push harder and slide in.

It's so fucking thick that you can't help but groan. You've never felt so full, so strained inside, being pushed in every direction; you're not built for this, maybe there's just too much, your body is rejecting me - and then I push again, another few inches, and you slam your head back against the padded table, a long, drawn-out "fuuuuuck" wrenched from your lips. You feel my strong hands brace at your hips, and with a final thrust, slamming your cervix up into your guts, moving your entire body, the ridges of my cock sliding deeper and deeper, sliding painfully, pleasurably past your walls, I'm inside you.

The nurse rests her hands on you again, and purrs in your ear, "you're doing so well for him, I know it's hard, it's so hard, but you're doing such a good job, pretty girl..."

Glacially, I pull out, allowing you a moment to rest, before thrusting in again, hands still at your waist. You sob once, loudly, and then you sink into it as I pick up a rhythm, deep, deep strokes inside you. You hear me grunting, whispering something, and I grow more frantic, impaling you a little harder, and through the wall of pleasure you hear me rumble, "nurse V, begin the overstimulation procedure."

"Certainly, doctor." She leans over you, lips fiercely meeting yours, and one of those slender hands reaches down to abuse your clit. An image of those burgundy nails on your cunt flashes through your mind as I continue pounding you, forcing you to spread for me, adjust to me, even as the nurse plays your clit like an instrument, and fuck, she's a virtuoso.

You sing a song of moans and voiceless curses under our combined mastery, knowing your audience is entranced, filled with a blazing, lusty pride. The deep bass of my voice, resonant in your skull, is saying something, but you cannot hear me; you're moaning, groaning, pleading, "yes, yes, oh my god yes" over and over...

The song swells to a crescendo and with two sudden strikes, two powerful thrusts into you, it ends with a thick, hot, sticky white wave of my approval inside you. You feel it pulse deep, deep inside, filling you, load after load delivered straight past your bruised, abused cervix.

You come back to reality with my cum spilling from between your legs, trailing thickly down onto the exam table. I zip up my jeans while the nurse helps dry you off, from all the sweat and saliva. She dabs caringly at your mouth, and you notice that the cloth is dyed the same shade as her lipstick.

"Now," I address the class, "I hope you were paying attention." I rest one hand on your aching, trembling thigh. How many times did you cum with me inside you? How long were all these people watching you writhe beneath me, begging, losing yourself in the pleasure? You have no fucking clue. "This patient has bravely volunteered for each of you to examine her, here and now, while she's available to us."

Your jaw drops. When did you agree to that? You would never - but you were begging, "yes, yes, yes" earlier, weren't you, while I was talking. You agreed. Everyone heard you say it.

"One at a time, please. And," I say to you, grinning wolfishly, "don't worry. I'll be watching the entire time."

27K notes · View notes