#i’m not even an animator but i’m willing to learn an entirely new skill for the sake of byler
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Lillends are a form of azata that are centered on telling stories and performances. Patrons and muses for bards and all manner of performers, they travel to learn and share stories and songs from all worlds, revelling in the freedom of performance. Lillends often have their favorites, though over decades, centuries, or millennia their preference will shift and when they tire of a specific style or artist they'll move on to another without regret. With their ageless existence they will remain in an area for as long as they are entertained and finding new ideas, sometimes following a single composer or playwright for their entire career and other times just enjoying a single work before moving on again.
Lillends take the form of a winged elf with the lower body of a snake. Their lower body can reach as long as 20 feet. While generally peaceful, they will take up arms in defense of rare art and talented artists, or against fiends and monsters that they believe are a threat to freedom of music and creation. They prefer to support others, using their magic as inspiration, but when called upon directly they are fearsome foes.
Originally from the 3.5 Monster Manual, with inspiration from the Pathfinder Bestiary. This post came out a week ago on my Patreon. If you want to get access to all my monster conversions early, as well as access to my premade adventures and other material I’m working on, consider backing me there!
5th Edition
Lillend
Large celestial (azata), chaotic good
Armor Class 13
Hit Points 115 (11d10 + 55)
Speed 30 ft., fly 70 ft.
Str 20 (+5) Dex 17 (+3) Con 21 (+5) Int 14 (+2) Wis 16 (+3) Cha 19 (+4)
Saving Throws Dex +6, Int +5, Wis +6, Cha +7
Skills Deception +7, Insight +6, Perception +6, Performance +10, Persuasion +7
Damage Immunities lightning, poison
Damage Resistances cold, fire, bludgeoning, piercing and slashing damage from nonmagical attacks not made with cold iron weapons
Condition Immunities paralyzed, petrified, poisoned
Senses darkvision 60 ft., passive Perception 16
Languages Celestial, Common, Draconic, Infernal
Challenge 7 (2900 XP)
Inspiration (4/Short Rest). As a bonus action, the lillend can grant Inspiration to a willing creature of its choice within 60 feet of the lillend that can hear it. The inspiration lasts for 1 minute. While inspired, when the target makes an ability check, attack roll, or saving throw and doesn't like the result, it can choose to expend the inspiration and roll a d10, adding the number rolled to the triggering roll. A target can only have one source of Inspiration.
Magic Resistance. The lillend has advantage on saving throws against spells and other magical effects.
Magic Weapon. Any melee weapon the lillend wields becomes a +1 weapon.
Actions
Multiattack. The lillend makes three attacks: two with its Longsword and one with Constrict.
+1 Longsword. Melee Weapon Attack: +9 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 15 (2d8+6) slashing damage or 17 (2d10+6) slashing damage if used with two hands.
Constrict. Melee Weapon Attack: +8 to hit, reach 10 ft., one target. Hit: 12 (2d6+5) bludgeoning damage and the target is grappled (escape DC 16). Until this grapple ends, the target is restrained and the lillend can't constrict another target.
Spellcasting. The lillend casts one of the following spells, requiring no material components and using Charisma as the spellcasting ability score (spell save DC 15):
At will: light, speak with animals, speak with plants
3/day each: charm person, cure wounds (as a 2nd level spell), darkness, hideous laughter, invisibility, suggestion
1/day each: confusion, hold person
13th Age
Lillend
7th level leader [celestial]
Initiative: +11
Magic Blade +11 vs. AC - 20 damage.
Natural Even Hit: The lillend can make a tail slap attack as a free action.
[Special Trigger] Tail Slap +11 vs. AC - 5 damage and the lillend grabs the target as long as it isn’t already grabbing a creature.
R: Suggestion +11 vs. MD (one nearby enemy) - 15 psychic damage.
Natural Even Hit: The target is confused until the end of its next turn.
Natural Odd Hit: The target pops free from all enemies and moves to a nearby spot of the lillend’s choice.
Flight.
Inspiration: 3/battle, as a quick action (1/turn), the lillend can give one nearby ally inspiration. That ally can spend its inspiration to gain a +2 bonus on one attack roll or saving throw it makes before the end of the battle. It can add this bonus after it makes the roll. An ally can only be inspired once.
Resist Spell Damage 14+.
AC 22 PD 17 MD 21 HP 116
#D&D#dnd#dungeons and dragons#5th edition#13th age#homebrew#my homebrew#monster#celestial#dnd cr 7#13th age level 7#long post
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៚ ⋯⋯⋯⋯ ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ ⋯⋯⋯⋯ ༄ Hi, LGC! I’m fashionably late, per usual, please forgive me! My name is Ari, and for those who are curious, I use he/him pronouns! I’m here to introduce you to a trainee whose been around the company for a few years, but is technically brand spankin’ new to this space! You can call him Chiba Ryūji! Hailing from Tōkyō, Japan, he spent all of his life as an athlete, primarily in volleyball and soccer, until he was scouted through a TikTok video he and his friends made as a joke. Full to the brim with immense energy, he’s a dance-focused trainee that dabbles in rapping and is very slowly improving his singing skill, but that’ll come with time. If you wanna plot, please like this post! I’m in search of plots of all types, and place a lot of value on character growth and depth, so if that sounds fun to you, too, let’s make some magic together! .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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Ryūji was born and raised by two fantastic athletes, and from the jump, a hard work ethic and undying passion to be number one was instilled in him. His childhood, aside from the constant physical activity and competitive edge, was fairly normal. Both his parents supported him. His dad worked hard (a physical therapist/coach) and Ryūji didn’t see him a lot, but he’s really close to his mother (a costume designer/former figure skater). Definitely a mama’s boy!
Fun fact: he’s also a twin! He’s got a twin sister, named Rio, who he loves to pieces. Does he resent her for being taller and far more beautiful? Yes, but he makes up for it by being better than her in everything else, according to him. 🤪
An example of his drive to succeed and be top dog: he stands at 164cm (or 5′4″) and was told he could never compete in a sport like volleyball because of it, but instead of taking the L, he put in the work and can jump higher than anyone he knows. Was this inspired by the character Hinata Shōyō from Haikyū!!? Yes... I’ve been rewatching it, don’t @ me. Sports anime used to have me by the throat. 💀
There’s an exuberance to his personality that’s very strong. He gives everything his all, and things often go in his favor because he’s willing to put in the work to succeed. That, and as he grew up in sports, he’s not only competitive, but everyone’s hype boy! A team dynamic doesn’t scare him, he’ll always pump everyone up. Think Chad in High School Musical screaming “WHAT TEAM?!?!” over and over again before a match. Some say Ryūji’s got his head in the game...
Honestly thought he’d grow up and pursue a profession in sports, or follow his father into the medical field, but when he was scouted from TikTok, his entire life changed. Never in his life did he think think he’d be involved in the arts, but after dipping his toes into the waters, he’s dived right in! As an athlete, he knows how to use his body and possesses a lot of strength, endurance, and a massive fighting spirit. Dance came almost second nature to him, and he loves attempting really difficult moves—even some amateur acrobatics/stunts!
He loves dancing because it allows him to still be physically active, but also creative, and he’s learning that he has this deep passion for the arts that he never knew about. He’s taken to rapping because he finds it fast-paced and fun, but his singing is slowly improving. Whenever he has downtime outside of training, he loves to polish up his skills, sleep for whole days, eat lots of junk food, and cause trouble with friends. Typical dude-bro stuff, y’know? 😂
Some of his downsides are that he’s very moody, especially when hungry, and he can turn into a real butthead if he’s not eaten recently. He’s also very fanatical and tends to have tunnel vision when he’s reaching for a goal. That paired with impulsivity sometimes means he doesn’t care who gets in his way, and will push through them to be the best. It’s a cutthroat industry, as they say.
Ryūji is also oversensitive and can be highly defensive, too. Depending on his state of mind, he’s prone to take playful jabs to heart and act as though he’s being attacked. This spikes when he’s stressed out, but happens other times occasionally, too. Despite his strong bravado, he’s got a really tender heart. 😔
Intensely impulsive, which I may have mentioned before. Doesn’t think much before he acts, or speaks, and this gets him into trouble. He’s slightly accident prone because of it, and he’ll definitely say the wrong thing at the worst time.
He’s a big lover of attention and loves having many friends around because of it; loves a good compliment thrown his way; loves being flirted with by hot guys, especially if they like short dudes. 🤪 In matters of the heart, he’s very direct and will tell you if he thinks you’re attractive or if he likes you. He doesn’t see much need in wasting time, but isn’t pushy about it either. #AlwaysRespectBoundaries
I don’t know, I think he’s cool and hope you do, too. 😎 Let’s plot!
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RE8 Ladies + Love Languages
While this isn't terribly long per character, I am putting it under a read-more for the combined length. Some characters have more details than others, partially due to how much I've written for them (and therefore had time to think about how they show their affections). For once the contents are not in alphabetical order. Crazy, right? PS there's a very, very brief implication of NSFW in Daniela's section.
Features the entire Dimitrescu family, Mother Miranda, Donna Beneviento, and as a lil bonus Ava.
Cassandra Dimitrescu:
Primary Love Language: Physical touch
Secondary Love Language: Acts of Service
Examples: Constantly wants to be touching some part of her lover, even if she sometimes pretends otherwise, from hand holding to making them sit in her lap. So goddamn touch starved. Preferably sleeps with her lover sprawled out on top of her, weighing her down, soothed by the constant pressure. Seriously, this woman needs someone to hold her as close as possible, running their fingers through her hair, pressing soft little kisses along her neck + shoulder. And then repeat. Every single day. For life.
Treating her lover’s wounds, or bringing them tea to soothe their nightmares, or monitoring their health when they're sick (see: Bound Blood + We Don’t Talk About That). Cassandra hates feeling like she owes someone, and isn’t fond of others owing her (because when they pay her back, she might end up owing them “the difference”). When it comes to love, however, all debts feel paid as soon as they are incurred. She does things for her beloved because she cares for them, expecting nothing in return. Sure, she’ll complain about the effort, but it doesn’t really bother her, and she truly hopes her lover knows that.
Mother Miranda:
Primary Love Language: Acts of Service
Secondary Love Language: Gift Giving
Examples: Despite the decades she has spent as a Goddess, commanding the willing masses, Miranda doesn’t put much emphasis on words. Instead, she values actions above all else. She doesn't care if someone says that they are devoted to her, she wants to see the effects of that devotion. In turn, she much prefers to show her affection rather than voice it, even if it leaves her lover less sure of her feelings. One must keep in mind that she is the leader of an entire region, and the fact that she chooses to personally take care of something for you means a hell of a lot. Even if it’s just making you a cup of tea whenever she brews some for herself, or something as big as setting up a studio for you and your personal projects, or simply ensuring that your favorite meals are added to the rotation.
Similar, in some aspects, to her preference to showcase her love rather than announce it, Miranda takes pride in her ability to select gifts. She remembers just about everything you ever tell her, easily memorizing things you express interest in. Though she won’t make a big deal out of it, you’ll often find little gifts from her lying around, casual reminders of how much of her attention is devoted to you.
Daniela Dimitrescu:
Primary Love Language: Words of Affirmation
Secondary Love Language: Physical Touch
Examples: What can she say, she loves to be worshipped. Having someone look at her with eyes full of adoration, one hand cupping her cheek, as they list a thousand reasons why they love her? That’s all she wants. Or sitting with her lover’s head in her lap, listening to them recite poetry that reminds them of her, while she runs her fingers through their hair. Ooh, or hearing them cry out her name like something holy as she all but buries her head between their legs. But don’t worry, she’s just as eager to return the favor, singing soft praises dedicated to her beloved. Admittedly, her compliments are sometimes a tad roundabout (so to speak).
“Mmm,” she’ll hum, “I’m the luckiest woman in the world. Living in a castle, my every need catered to, endless life, and, of course, the most darling little pet I could ever ask for. What more could I want?” Then she’ll pull her lover close, a kiss against their pulse point to claim them as her own. It’s impossible for her to determine her favorite place to touch her lover. There are little spots that elicit sweet sounds from them, then there are places where their warmth is a tad fiercer than normal, pure bliss against her own freezing skin. Wherever she touches them, it’s a silent declaration of her love.
Bela Dimitrescu:
Primary Love Language: Quality Time
Secondary Love Language: Words of Affirmation
Examples: It doesn’t matter what she does with her lover, as long as they are together, in the same room if not actively pressed against each other. Any hobby of theirs is one that she’ll instantly take interest in. An academic at heart, she loves to learn, regardless of the subject, and takes endless delight in learning from those close to her. There’s something incredible about the feeling she gets when she gets a chance to show her lover how much she remembers, and she sees that spark of joy in their eyes.
Considering her fondness for classical literature, it’s no surprise that she adores using language to convey the depths of her affection. Whether she’s quoting Sappho or Shakespeare, she often relies on dead poets to express herself. In turn, she cannot even begin to describe the feeling she gets when her lover returns the gesture, especially if they go so far as to write something original for her. More than once she’s tried to craft her own poetry, but has found herself lacking (at least to her own standards). One thing she enjoys is memorizing poetry written by someone from her lover’s home country, assuming that they’re not from Romania.
Alcina Dimitrescu:
Primary Love Language: Gift Giving/Physical Touch
Secondary Love Language: Quality Time
Examples: Considering the era in which she was born, it’s not terribly surprising that Alcina’s affection often manifests in less obvious ways. A hand on her lover’s back, guiding them along, or letting her knee touch theirs when they sit next to each other, or gently reaching out to give one of their hands a soft pat during quiet conversations. On top of that, she gives out gifts almost constantly. Oh, her lover very briefly mentioned enjoying a local artist? Well, Alcina will be certain to purchase several (or most) of their recent work. Did her beloved muse out loud about not having much jewelry? That won’t do! She’ll get them a large assortment, including plenty that bear the crest of House Dimitrescu. Everyone will know who her lover is, if only for the way that they are adorned with her loveliest finery.
Much like her eldest daughter (who likely takes after her mother), Alcina also enjoys the barest of interactions with her darling. With the endless stretch that is her potential lifespan, she knows that she has all the time in the world to learn new skills, or experience all that the village has to offer. Nothing warms her heart quite like the idea of getting to enjoy those things with the people that matter most to her- namely her partner and her children.
Donna Beneviento:
Primary Love Language: Quality Time
Secondary Love Language: Gift Giving
Examples: An odd mix of shy and calculating, Donna Beneviento is not one to rely on words, nor does she often take grand actions where others may observe. Instead, she works (and weaves) within the shadows. When it comes to love, she prefers to let her priorities reveal her feelings. Day after day, she chooses to spend time with her partner, regardless of the activity. If they ask for her company, she gives it without hesitation. She invites them to join her in the garden, or give input on her latest creations, and ensures that they are readily involved in just about every aspect of her life.
Being as talented as she is with crafting (both the overall art of doll-making and the somewhat related ability to sew all sorts of clothing), ‘tis not surprising that she also turns to gifts to express herself. From knitting hats in winter to soft blankets when her partner is sick, she provides for them in the easiest way she knows how.
Avaskian Caldwell:
Primary Love Language: Physical Touch/Words of Affirmation
Secondary Love Language: Quality Time
Examples: Arguably the most touch-starved person ever to exist, xer only possible rival being Cassandra. Struggles to strike a balance between hating being touched unexpectedly and wanting constant physical attention. Will give affectionate shoulder/back pats, loves forehead kisses/bumps, literally cannot sleep without cuddling someone/something (such as a stuffed animal). At the same time, a lifetime of severe anxiety has made it so that xe often relies on verbal encouragement from others to feel good/motivate xerself. Xe craves compliments, and defaults to poetry as a way of expressing love for others. One might think that being selectively mute might put a damper on this. However, if anything, it just furthers the value of xer speech. You know that xe cares about you if xe not only writes you poetry, but reads it aloud for you.
In true introvert/anxiety-riddled-bean fashion, Ava is also more than content to just chill with loved ones. Xe grew up in an admittedly fucked up family, but some of xer happiest childhood memories are of xerself sitting with xer brother, watching while he played through videogame after videogame, or sitting together on the big couch and reading. Years later, xe has a strong instinct to want to recreate those moments with xer new (slightly less fucked up) family.
#alcina dimitrescu x reader#bela dimitrescu x reader#cassandra dimitrescu x reader#daniela dimitrescu x reader#mother miranda x reader#donna beneviento x reader#original character x reader#oc x reader#avaskian caldwell#resident evil: village#re8 village
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The Sound Pillar past, I have heard that explore a bit in databook about being ninja.
Also what happened his sibling that still remain.
Also what there react
Combining info from the fanbooks and Chapters 80, 87, and 90 we get the following narrative of Uzui Tengen and his family, as complete as I could fill it in. It's always possible the anime version will expand and give us more, but here's what I've got in chronological format.
Uzui Tengen's father was the leader of their clan, one of a few ninja clans who lived in close community. Ninja were regularly sent on missions, but it is not clear what those missions were. Women and children were also expected to undergo strict training and go on missions, but women were primarily only valued as baby-makers, and it was common for one man to take multiple wives. The wives, at least in the Uzui case, were chosen upon agreements between families. (For more commentary on the unusual and cult-like nature of the Uzui ninja clan, please see this post.) In Chapter 80, Makio recalls how she never used to be afraid of dying because she was so brainwashed to believe her only value as a kunoichi (female ninja) was to put her life on the line in support of the strong male ninja.
Tengen is the oldest of nine children. Of note, Fanbook #2 states that he has a mother and father from whom the nine children came, but as multiple wives is the norm in this village and Uzui was 15 when they were forced to fight each other, I think it's reasonable to assume many of them were half-siblings (even if all with one very busy wife, that would make the youngest one only around 7~9 years old or so, by my guess. But, it doesn't seem unreasonable in this clan that an 8-year-old would be expected to take part in this fight.)
Tengen had his three wives by the time he was 15. Since he is 23 when canon takes place and Hinatsuru (from a ninja clan second in rank to the Uzui clan and who has a good balance of core ninja skills) is 21, Makio (physically a highly capable ninja but her short temper causes her to fail her missions and yes, she is Tengen's cousin, please restrain your knee-jerk reactions and accept the cultural difference and move one) is 20, and Suma is 19 (and yes, Fanbook #2 said she likes both men and women), that means his wives were respectively 13, 12, and 11 when they fled the village. As Suma's younger sister was originally the one being considered as a bride, this means they were willing to marry off girls even younger than that. See this post for more commentary on multiple wives in the Taisho period, and as an added note, the legal age for women to marry in Taisho was 16. The Uzui ninja clan was entirely counter-cultural in the first place, though, so this doesn't apply very directly to them. Furthermore, due to their curse, the Ubuyashiki clan had very usually early expectations for children to wed, and they always run a not officially recognized organization. Otherwise, most of the cast seems to follow more usual Meiji/Taisho family patterns.
Of the nine siblings, three of them died before Tengen turned 15, simply due to the lifestyle. When Tengen was 15 (clarified according to Fanbook #1), Tengen's father pit the remaining six siblings against each other so that only the strong would remain. They were all concealing their identities and did not know they were fighting their own siblings. According to Fanbook #2, Tengen killed two of them, and his younger brother (second oldest) killed another two, and Tengen was pissed when he realized what was happening. He couldn't bring himself to kill his remaining brother, though that brother was just like their father when it came to his values that only the strong should survive, and he really didn't care about killing his own flesh and blood.
This was when Tengen decided he didn't want to live like this, and he took his wives and fled. For a while (according to Fanbook #2), he often said he should go to hell, but this made Makio angry, it made Hinatsuru cry, and it made Suma bite him so he stopped saying that. He did continue to think that he should eliminate the rest of this evil Uzui clan, but he could never bring himself to kill his father and little brother. (So, fanfic writers, grab your pens, we can assume the Uzui clan is still active.)
Anyway, once he was free of that lifestyle where he had to constantly hide his presence, he thoroughly rebelled and embraced the flamboyant.
It's unclear when and how Tengen learning Breathing technique. It's possible there was knowledge of this technique in some form or another among the ninja (though his wives don't seem to display it), and it's also possible he learned from a cultivator. Sound is an off-shoot of Thunder, but it's unclear whether Sound was established before he came along, or if he created this Breath to make extra use of his keen hearing. (What I would give to see Tengen/Kuwajima interactions, preferably arguing about which Breath is superior.)
It's unclear how much time passed between fleeing the clan and joining the Demon Slayer Corps. Given his ninja skills, as soon as he found out about the Corps (and perhaps by extension, demons), passing the Final Selection was probably a breeze for him. It was either right after the Final Selection (and therefore still waiting for his uniform), or just as he had made up his mind to join the Corp that he declares his new rule to his wives: their lives are #1 priority. #2 priority is morally upright humans, and #3 is Tengen himself.
And they're like, "whaaaaaaaat."
But sure enough they all accept the demon slaying mission, and before long, Tengen and his wives meet Oyakata-sama one fine spring day, I assume upon attaining the rank of Sound Pillar. Oyakata-sama sympathizes with how hard it must had been for Tengen--for all of them--to go against what they were raised to believe, and to fight to protect people in what they've deemed a morally upright course of life. Tengen's like, "this guy gets it" and becomes as big a fanboy as any other Pillar is for Oyakata-sama. It's purely conjecture, but I'm guessing he and Oyakata-sama both were somewhere around age 15~17 at this meeting (again, we don't know how much time has passed since Tengen left the ninja. Due to Kanae and Tengen's shared presence at later flashbacks, he couldn't had been older than 18~19).
Tengen goes on to be super popular. The most popular Pillar in the Corp, Taisho Rumor has it. His wives all help on missions too, but there's an agreement that they'll get out and live a happy domestic life once they've bagged an Upper Moon--enough of a contribution to, perhaps, to feel they've atoned for the sins they committed as ninja (or at least, this was how Hinatsuru proposed the idea). Once the arm gets chopped and the eye gets cut, Tengen gains a really good excuse for retiring, but it was just his luck to have declared three Tsuguko within hours of his forced retirement. (Like, I doubt this counts for anything. And if he ever calls them that again his trio of Tsuguko are probably going to be more confused than anybody else.) Anyway, Nezuko brings him back from the brink of poison-induced death and he basically walks home.
While still involved in the Corp in training the rank and file members and guarding Kiriya upon his becoming Oyakata-sama (meaning he, like Himejima, was trusted with knowledge in advance about Kagaya's very flamboyant exit plan). After that he truly goes into domestic retirement mode and makes friends with a fellow lop-sided former Pillar, however drab he always thought that person was. He takes enough of a liking to said former Pillar that he brings him along on co-ed hot spring dips and lets him hold his first child. Which of the three wives birthed the first child, we don't know.
And then one of his descendants goes on to be a flamboyant gymnast, but still gathers once a year under Ubuyashiki's leadership to perform the Sound Breath forms as a sacred Kagura dance.
And we still don't know what became of Tengen's brother. For all we know, modern gymnast Uzui Tenma and his six other siblings regularly avoid explosive attacks on their life from a generations-held promise to eliminate them. PARKOUR---but more flamboyant. (I hope it's obvious that I am being silly here and have no canon basis for this.)
#no where in this did I mention the Muscle Mice#I am disappointed in my myself for I love the Muscle Mice#Uzui Tengen#kny references#kny reference#kny fandom theories and meta#Uzui Hinatsuru#Uzui Makio#Uzui Suma#Kimetsu no Yaiba#Demon Slayer
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feelings are fatal (17/24)
pairing: bucky barnes x reader, past steve rogers x reader
word count: 3,346
summary: After the events of Endgame, you struggle to come to terms with what you’ve lost, though you’re learning that you still have something to gain.
chapter warnings: swearing, violence, creepy men
masterlist
a/n: HEYYYYY HAPPY TWO YEAR BLOG BIRTHDAY TO ME!!!!!
Bucky’s heart was pounding as he finally shook the last of the Hydra goons that had been chasing him, glancing every which way just to double check.
He didn’t feel good about this.
It hadn’t even been ten minutes since the two of you had gotten separated, and he hated it. Granted, he always hated being away from you, had since you were fifteen.
Back then it was because he didn’t trust the Red Room instructors. Now it was because he was in love with you and being away from you made him feel like a part of his heart was missing.
Speed walking towards the entrance of Coney Island, he dug his phone out of his pocket and dialed Pepper’s number.
“Oh, my god, thank god. What the hell is wrong with you?” Pepper demanded angrily of him. “Do neither of you know how to answer your phones? Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” he said. He could hear his blood pumping in his ears. “We had to separate so I could try to lead the bad guys away, but they just… disappeared. I’m heading for our meeting spot now.”
Morgan and a few other kids were babbling in the background about how their day had gotten cut short, but he knew that the littlest Stark would understand better than anyone else once they explained to her.
Pepper was suspiciously quiet for… a long time. A long, long time.
“Pepper?” Bucky whispered, his voice cracking.
There was an unspoken question between them.
What if he’d fucked up?
Should he have stayed with her?
What if they’d gotten to her?
And one that was looming over his head, heavier than ever.
What if he never got to tell you how he felt?
“I’m here,” she said reassuringly.
“What if…” Bucky’s heart cracked inside of his chest. His throat was closing up with each passing second, his flesh palm sweaty. Keeping his grip on his cell phone was becoming a challenge. “What if I n-never g-get to tell her h-how I feel?”
“Don’t think like that.”
“God, I’m so fucking stupid,” he cursed as he made his way to the aquarium. His eyes flickered around the crowd, almost hoping he’d see the two women from earlier. They would’ve recognized you and might’ve seen you.
But there was no sign of them.
“Those fucking special skills or whatever would really come in fucking handy right now,” he cursed. With the way people were parting like the Red Sea in front of him, he knew he probably had his less-than-friendly expression on.
His Murder Face, as you called it.
Or his Resting Bitch Face, according to Sam.
Bucky ran his vibranium hand over his face as he tried not to panic. For one, he hadn’t even gotten to the meeting spot yet. Most likely, you were there waiting for him and he was worrying over nothing. “Tony and Natasha will haunt me forever if I let something happen to her.”
A sigh resounded over the phone. “You didn’t let something happen to her, Bucky. Hell, we don’t even know if something is wrong with her yet. But they both know that you have… you have literally devoted your entire being to taking care of her, protecting her. You did what you thought was the best option in the moment. And maybe… Maybe there was no getting out of that ambush without something happening to one of you.”
Rounding the corner to the tunnel, his heart stopped inside his chest.
You weren’t there.
“Bucky? Bucky? What’s going on? You there? What’s happening?”
It was like the world around him had gone fuzzy, and all he could hear was a ringing in his ears.
You weren’t there.
You weren’t there, and it was all his fault.
He told you to go to the tunnel.
How fucking stupid was he? The tunnel was possibly the worst place he could’ve told you to go to. It’s closed off, a literal tube with water all around you except two very small exits that were easily blocked.
What had he done?
Slumber had come easy for you for once. You were so exhausted, even your bones weary, from dancing all day. And by all day, that meant for over twelve hours because of your sadistic new instructor.
The last one had been… disposed of.
You’d woken at sunrise as usual and gone straight to ballet, only for the instructor to not let you go after the normal three hour class.
The rest of the girls filed out of the dance studio, some glancing back at you in curiosity.
There was no worry in their eyes. It was every girl for themselves these days.
If you thought real hard, you could remember a time when you all looked out for each other. You would braid each other’s hair, give a warning if any of the instructors or Madame B were near. If someone didn’t wake up when they were supposed to, the girls would shake her awake and help her get ready on time.
But that time was no more.
Those that ran the infamous Red Room didn’t like when their… students banded together. Things were better for them when you all hated each other and sought ways to sabotage the others.
It made you more likely to kill during a sparring session, and they only wanted girls who were willing to go all the way.
“Is there something you needed from me, madam?” You asked, your hands folded behind your back, spine straight, your chin high.
Good posture had been beaten into you within a week of arrival.
You didn’t forget a lesson like that anytime soon.
The instructor was new to you girls, though you had been told she wasn’t new to the Red Room. She’d been one of you, once upon a time.
One of the few who had survived to graduation, and then lived long enough after to be brought back as an instructor.
“I’m told you’re a prodigy,” she drawled as she slowly walked towards you, her platinum blonde hair pulled into a tight ballerina bun much like your own. While all of you girls wore black leotards, hers was a pale lilac, a shimmering rehearsal skirt tied around her waist that swished around her thighs. “That you are Madame B’s new pride and joy… Though, just based on your dancing, there is absolutely nothing to be prideful of. It is a surprise to me that you haven’t been… taken care of.”
The implication was clear.
Just based on that morning’s class, she thought you were bad enough at ballet to be killed.
Was it possible she just wanted you executed now? Was she about to do so?
Even though Madame B would be pissed, there were more girls that they could train. She’d only be upset for so long before she’d have a new prodigy, a new pride and joy.
Before the Soldat would have a new trainee.
Before your Soldat would have a new trainee. All the other Soldats could have all the trainees they wanted, but your Soldat, your Seven… The thought of him training another girl made bile rise up in your throat.
“Do you have pointers for things I could work on, madame?” You asked, shoulders tensing as she circled you. Like a vulture ready to scavenge a dying animal.
“I simply thought I could lend you some extra practice time,” she said, a sickly sweet smile spreading over her lips as she looked you up and down. “And don’t worry about Madame B and your other instructors. I already let them know that I wanted extra time with you today.”
The way she was speaking was setting off alarms in your mind.
“Perfect,” you said clearly, not letting your fear show. The instructors could smell fear and would use it against you until your heart stopped beating.
“Do you know the role of Aurora in the Sleeping Beauty ballet?” She asked, eyes cold. When you nodded, she chuckled. “Good. You’ll be dancing it on pointe, start to finish. Now.”
You were shocked when she then turned and started the music, but you did as she said.
Now, Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s Sleeping Beauty is his longest ballet ever, at almost four hours long.
And you danced all of it.
“Below average,” the instructor said, glaring daggers at you. “Again.”
You needed water desperately, your lungs fighting for air as you pretended to be unbothered by having done that by taking slow, even breaths.
But you had to do it again.
And again.
Every time you finished, she gave some comment about how your dancing was shit, how you’d never be good enough.
At this point, you wished she would simply kill you and get it over with. You were exhausted and your muscles felt like they were going to give out at any moment.
“MALEN’KAYA!”
You fell out of your pirouette in your shock, gasping as your ankle twisted and you fell to the ground. “Fuck!”
Your Soldat stormed into the dance studio as you looked up, eyes wide.
When had he gotten back? He’d been on a mission for the past few days, and fuck, you’d missed him something fierce.
“Soldat,” the instructor breathed out as she stopped moving, staring up at him with blue eyes. “Remember me?”
“Yes,” he said, glaring at her like she was a pile of dog shit he’d stepped in.
She moved towards him, her hand coming to rest on his chest. “I was hoping to see—” She was cut off as he raised his hands to hold her face. The harsh woman looked so… soft for him. “I missed you. Did you miss me?”
“No,” he snarled, his voice dropping almost an octave. “You should’ve thought twice before touching my malen’kaya.”
The light that had been in her eyes when she first saw him quickly disappeared as she realized she was totally, and utterly, fucked.
Your heart caught in your throat as he so easily twisted her head, a loud snap ringing through the air. He let her limp, lifeless body fall to the ground with a thump before turning and rushing to you. The darkness that had been in his face was long gone as he pulled you close, his hands running over you to try to find sources of injuries.
It took you a moment to realize he was speaking, your ears ringing as you stared at the dead woman on the ground.
“—you okay? What the hell happened? Who allowed this?” He asked, talking a mile a minute as he checked over you. Once he finally got to your pointe shoes, he took in a shaky breath. “I have to check,” he said as he reached for the pink ribbons tied around your ankles.
In the two years since you’d known him, you’d never seen his hands shake like they were.
Your eyes locked in on his face, his brows furrowed and his cheeks flushed, as he tentatively untied one of your pointe shoes. He slowly slipped it off, his breath catching in his throat as he looked at your foot. It was only when the second one came off that you finally looked at the damage.
Well… You were sure your feet could have looked much worse after dancing for over twelve hours, but… It still wasn’t pretty.
“I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt that bad,” you lied, trying to soothe him.
He was usually much more composed than this, his face harder.
Even when he was feeling a bit nicer, a bit softer, it was nothing like this.
The Soldat shook his head, looking absolutely pissed. “You don’t have to lie. Never lie to me.”
“I’m not lying,” you insisted. “But that might be because right now, they’re numb, so I can’t feel anything at all from about my ankles down. But that does mean I didn’t lie.”
You were attempting to joke with him, lighten up the mood a bit. However, he definitely didn’t seem to be taking the bait.
When you glanced over at the windows, for some reason you were surprised to see how late it was. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” he drawled as he scooped you up, leaving your pointe shoes behind as he carried you to the locker room. The man was somehow almost completely silent as he set you on a bench and grabbed a first aid kit out of what seemed to be thin air, before gently cleaning away the blood.
Water was dripping somewhere in the locker room, the droplets hitting the tiled floor with soft clinks.
“You were gone,” you whispered, eyes trained on his face. He was still so handsome, even with the frown lines that were starting to appear. Not that you could blame him, everything he’d been through would more than warrant a few wrinkles. “You were gone so long…”
The Soldat’s eyes were soft, despite being the color of the ice that coated the windows. “I know… I can’t stand being away from you, but if I didn’t go… They’d find some way to punish me.” His rough flesh hand cupped your cheek. “And I think they’re starting to catch on that the best way to punish me would be through you, malen’kaya.”
For a second, you thought he was gonna kiss you. From the way his eyes flicked down to your lips and back up again, you could’ve sworn on your life.
But then he took in a deep breath.
And his hand left your cheek.
You tried to push down the disappointment that welled up in your throat, biting your lip.
“Come on, malen’kaya,” he said as he finished wrapping up your poor feet. “Let’s get you to bed.”
The other girls were already sleeping when he carried you into your room, each one of them with a single wrist handcuffed to the bed frame.
“Hate knowing that you’re locked here all night,” Soldat said, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he approached the only empty bed in the room. “It’s like… putting a lark in a cage. I don’t like it.”
“I know,” you said. “But… It’s just how it is.” You looked up at him with bright eyes as he laid you down and tucked the blanket in around you, making sure you were nice and cozy before he took your left wrist and cuffed it to the metal frame.
“Get some sleep,” he murmured, brushing his metal fingers along your cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Oh, God…
Everything hurt…
Why did everything hurt?
It was like your head had been shoved under water, but your eyes were too heavy to open.
“—gotta take the video and send it.”
“How do we know he’ll come?”
“Oh, he’ll come. He’ll always come for her.”
Who was that? The voices sounded vaguely familiar, but not quite.
“His precious malen’kaya.”
You slipped back into unconsciousness even as you fought the darkness coming over you, slumping down again.
The clock ticked obnoxiously loud as you sat in the diner booth, your knee pulled up to your chest. A cold cup of half-drank coffee was sitting on the table in front of you.
You’d been waiting over an hour for him to show.
The lunch rush had come and gone, and the waitresses—in their rockabilly uniforms and roller skates—were shooting you pitying looks.
“This is fucking ridiculous,” you huffed as you got to your feet and slammed a crisp twenty dollar bill on the vinyl table top. “He asks me on a fucking date and then doesn’t fucking show. How fucking typical.”
It had only been two days since the mission where he’d asked you out on a date. Your ankle was wrapped, and you were under strict orders to rest.
So, of course, you’d dragged yourself out to this diner that he insisted on taking you to.
Well, meeting you at since you really, really didn’t want to deal with the awkwardness of riding in the same car.
If you were being honest, it hurt. A lot. You’d gotten your hopes up over the past two days, tossing and turning at night as you dreamed of what would happen on your date. Would it go anywhere? Would he end up being the love of your life?
You hadn’t had a crush on anyone since…
Well… Since your Soldat.
You missed him so fucking much.
And he wouldn’t have stood you up.
“Fuck Steve Rogers.”
Your face was flushed as you headed home, storming through the streets of Manhattan to the Avengers Tower. You needed time to stew, and the subway would be too fast.
“I should’ve just stayed home and taken that fucking bubble bath,” you huffed as you got in the elevator and rode up to the residential floors. Even if it had been meant to be a casual first date, you’d done your hair and stressed over your makeup, wearing your nicest pair of leggings and sneakers that didn’t have mud on the bottoms.
And even if the plan had been for it to be casual, you’d been looking forward to flowers and a kiss on the cheek, stealing a fry from his plate and maybe playing footsie under the table.
Just a little.
Like other girls got to do.
The elevator music was getting into your head, and there was no doubt it’d be haunting your dreams. But when the doors opened onto the common area floor, you were just about ready to burst into tears.
Because Steven Grant Rogers was sitting at the kitchen island and eating a sandwich as he laughed at some joke Rhodey made.
You couldn’t believe him. Was this his plan all along?
Steeling yourself, you straightened your spine and walked with purpose, planning on walking right by without even acknowledging him.
But of course, that wouldn’t be your luck.
As soon as Steve caught sight of you, he froze, his blue eyes going wide. Breathing out your name, he quickly scrambled to his feet. “Wait! Wait! Please! I’m so fucking sorry, I completely forgot!”
“It’s fucking fine, Rogers. It’s clearly a sign that this is was a bad idea in the first place,” you said, your voice cold enough to freeze him again.
“What?! No! Please, I’m just…” He groaned as he followed you onto the elevator that would take you up to the other residential floors. “I just had three meetings before noon and completely forgot! That doesn’t mean I don’t want this date with you!”
Taking a breath, you turned on him, glaring at him like he was a piece of dog shit on your shoe. “You know what the cherry on top of this is?” You asked with a laugh. “My first fucking date of my entire fucking life, and I get stood up. Fuck you, Rogers. Fuck. You.”
You’d successfully shocked him, and left him looking like a guppy, his mouth hanging open as he watched you leave him standing there.
When you came to again, you actually found the strength to open your eyes.
The room around you was like every stereotypical hostage room you’d ever seen in real life, and in movies.
Almost like the one Olivia Pope had been in on Scandal.
Though, you had a feeling that this one was real and wasn’t just a fancy set in a warehouse.
“Where am I?” You asked yourself, trying to take stock of everything. “Okay. Head hurts. Expected that. Don’t feel any sharp pains… so he probably shot me with a tranquilizer and not a bullet… Which is probably better for my chances of escape.” It was so fucking cold, your entire body was trembling. “No phone, so no way for the others to track me. Same clothing I was in… so at least there’s that.”
Your voice died as you heard movement beyond the black steel door in front of you, watching as it slowly opened. Your heart sank as you realized who was standing in front of you.
“It’s been too long, malen’kaya.”
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Lost Love’s Ruination (Viego/Reader)
Done at last! Was desperate to get this one out before Isolde was released for obvious reasons, so glad I got it done xD
Once again, I tried to make it that you don't need any lore knowledge to get what's going on, though I would recommend maybe watching Ruination (the league short). Also no apologies for all the Senna because I love herrrrr
As a warning, there is smut at the end. Hope you enjoy it :)
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A woman’s body, her beauty spoiled in apparent death, was lowered into beautiful crystalline waters. You couldn’t see who was lowering her into the water, or who stood around viewing the scene. You never could.
As it always did, the water grew poisoned with death as the woman revived from the dead, her features twisted with anger and confusion. Like a caged animal that had been freed, she lashed out, ripping a great blade out of someone’s grasp, and before you could react, the blade was plunged into your chest.
With a gasp, you woke up, your body broken out in a cold sweat, like it always did when you had that particular dream. You had had that dream many times before, but it never got any less terrifying. Long ago, you had considered visiting a dream reader to decipher what the horrifying nightmare meant, but you were scared that you would be told you were cursed and gave up on ever knowing.
It was a relief that most days you didn’t have much time to worry about your nightmares. You had been working on a farm in rural Demacia ever since you had been taken in at age four. You had been told that you were the only survivor of a fire, but you had been so young that you had no memories of the fire, or of your parents.
The owner of the farm had given you a home, but he was far from being family. You were given enough food to survive, but no more, and it was always contingent on you working on the farm seven days a week. You were grateful to have a bed to sleep in at night, even as hard as it was, but couldn’t help but feel some envy watching the other girls in your town go about their lives without the responsibilities that you had.
You might as well get up, even with how early you had woken up. Today was sheep shearing day, the longest day of the year for you. The sheep liked you more than they liked the owner, so that meant that you were stuck shearing all the sheep by yourself while he went to the town bar all day.
Putting on your old and worn boots with a sigh, you wished you could find a way out of this life. But you had no skills besides farming, and no money. The only way a girl like you could get out of this life was to marry a likely-older man, and that was something you wanted to avoid at all costs. The owner’s brother had previously expressed an interest in you, but luckily for you the owner hated his brother, or you would have likely had to live on the streets to avoid that marriage made in hell.
The owner was out in the field feeding the sheep when you exited the farmhouse. He glanced up at you, but you knew better than to expect a good morning, instead heading towards the small shed to fetch your shears.
Only when you returned to the field did he finally speak up. “Have some buyers comin’ for the wool tomorrow, so make sure it’s done today.”
“Right,” you answered. He was always the gruff, no-nonsense type, so you knew by now that talking back would get you nowhere. You had learned that lesson soon after you had come to this place twenty years ago. He was your employer, not your father, and he made sure you never forgot that.
“Alright, I’m off then,” he said, giving the field of sheep one more look over before heading inside to change out of his overalls.
You finished setting your things up as the owner left for the bar. You watched as he headed down the road, knowing that he wouldn’t be back until late. You didn’t really mind when he was gone, even if that meant you had a larger workload; he never seemed to have any interest in you other than what you could do on the farm, so he wasn’t one for long conversation. Without him around, you were at least able to relax and work without feeling like you had someone breathing down your neck to finish faster.
Luckily, the sheep were more than willing to listen to your worries, even if they didn’t understand what you were saying.
“I just want to stop having that dream,” you said as you began shearing one of your favorite sheep, Tulip. The owner had no interest in naming his livestock, so the job was left to you. Names didn’t make a difference to the owner, but it made a big difference to you, even as sad as it was to have your only friends be farm animals.
“I just wish I could make them go away,” you told the uninterested sheep. “Things would be much easier if I could dream about grass like you probably do, Tulip.”
Tulip turned her head to face you and you sighed, petting her freshly-sheared back. You always felt silly talking to the sheep, but it wasn’t like you had any better options around here.
Every time you had dreamed of a more exciting life, you had backed down and given up on your plans. Beyond your lack of money or skills, you knew very little about the world outside your small farming town. You had only been outside the town once, many years ago when you went with the owner to help pick out some new livestock from a larger town.
As your life stood right now, you had very little idea of what your future would be like. Would you eventually get tired of this life and set out on your own, get married off, or stay here until you were old and gray? None of those options seemed particularly appealing to you, but for now, all you could do was sit here and talk to sheep about your nightmares, wishing you could have a chance to see more of the world than your small town.
It was already a pretty warm day, and handling heavy sheep’s wool wasn’t helping. You had sheared about half the sheep by midday, but your work had been slowing down, likely due to your poor night of sleep. You would have to pick up the pace considerably if you wanted to finish in time to get any sleep tonight.
You had been pushing through your increasing thirst for at least an hour in the name of finishing on time, but had finally given in and headed inside for some water. Your dry throat ached, but the water was still nice, as you knew the owner would be upset if you passed out from dehydration before you finished your day’s work.
As much as you didn’t want to go back out there, you knew you had to work to earn your keep. It was a little harder to stay focused on work when you were dirty, sweaty and covered in balls of wool, but you had to push through and just look forward to a nice bath after the day was done.
You paused to stretch as you stood before the front door, knowing it would be back to work as soon as you were back outside. Stretching only served to emphasize how sore you were feeling after several hours of tedious work, with many more still to go. That was the same reason why you hadn’t bothered to pick the excess wool off of your clothes; why bother when you would look like a patchy sheep by the end of the day anyways?
Saying goodbye to your brief moment of rest, you opened the door at last, reluctantly ready to get back to work. Looking out over the area, you were surprised to see the field in more chaos than you had left it.
Your stool had been knocked over, but that was easy enough to fix; your real problem came from the sheep. You had expected them to wander around the field while not under your supervision, but the scene before you was something you had never experienced before.
The sheep were all crowded along the fence that faced the way into town. Walking closer, you could see nothing along the road that led past other farms and into town, at least nothing that would catch the attention of the entire flock of sheep. The dirt road was clear, the only noise around drifting over from the other nearby farms, but that wasn’t unusual.
You walked closer to the sheep, still unsure of what their problem was. You had never seen them act like this before, not even when large carts would pass by them travelling on the road. Could they see something that you couldn’t? You had never heard of sheep having supernatural senses, but were having a difficult time coming up with any other explanation for their sudden strange behavior.
Approaching the sheep, you tried to gently pry one away from the fence, but it wouldn’t budge, digging its hooves into the ground with an indignant bleat. You tried the same tactic with several other sheep, but were met with the same stubborn refusal to move. Even Tulip rebuffed you, regardless of any pleading on your part. What was wrong with these sheep?
You covered your eyes with your hands, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself down. You really didn’t need this right now. You had a job to do, and a limited amount of time to get the job done or the owner would surely be upset with you. You would have to do whatever it took to get the sheep to comply with you, even if the owner was unhappy with you using extra hay as a bribe.
Before you could return your focus to the sheep in front of you, you were interrupted by a loud bleating from all around you. Removing your hands from your eyes, you looked around you to the flock of loudly-bleating sheep, and then back to the still-empty area ahead of you, still utterly confused as to what was happening.
All of a sudden, the sheep were desperate to be anywhere but where they were as they all turned and fled away from the fence. Unfortunately, you were unable to move in time and were sent falling to the ground, which was not helping your already-sore back. Sitting up with a groan, you lamented how rough your day was going, at least until you looked out at the scene beyond the fence.
Where there had been nothing out of the ordinary before, now you could see something that was not there before. Far off in the horizon, so far that you had to squint to see it, was a patch of dark black-green in the sky.
Standing up, you leaned over the fence, trying to see what it was when suddenly the patch grew bigger, or as you realized with a gasp, it was getting closer. The horrible black-green sky got closer still, close enough for you to tell that it was not sky after all, but a thick, dark mist, and it seemed to be closing in on your small town.
And then your world was swallowed by black.
Senna sat in the small boat, watching as the black-green mist began to dissipate, knowing that its creator had vanished as well. She could feel nothing but guilt and dread; she had failed not only herself, but all of Runeterra. Now that the ruined king had the memories, he was one step closer to achieving his goal, and then his focus would turn to the world that he felt had let him down.
“We have to find the girl,” Senna said suddenly, watching as the last of the mist faded from the cliff they had just been on.
“The girl?” Lucian asked.
Senna turned to face her husband. How often she forgot that Lucian hadn’t seen what she had seen, didn’t know what she knew. But this was no time to get lost in the past, not when so much was at stake.
“His wife died a long time ago,” she began as Lucian took hold of the boat’s steering wheel. “I’ve held her memory within me since the mist came to my island when I was a child. Now that he has her memory, he will seek out her body to reunite the two.”
“He’s looking for a thousand-year-old corpse?” Lucian sounded dubious.
“No,” Senna sighed ruefully. “His wife was reborn, but she has no memories of her past life. He thinks that he can force her memory into her new body and return her to his side.”
Only when it got closer did you realize the true amount of trouble you were in. The dark mist began to swallow the land, the sky, covering everything in its path as it headed straight towards your farm.
As it got even closer, you began to see more detail in the ominous mist, taken aback when you noticed ethereal green streaks in the mist that crawled along the black mist as if they were alive. This was no ordinary storm, no, this mist looked downright sinister. You stared, frozen with terror, until the screams from one of the neighboring farms snapped you out of your petrified stupor.
You had to run. Now.
You backed up a few steps, knowing that you had to leave but afraid to take your eyes off of the rapidly-approaching deathly black mist. Turning around at last, you ran across the field and towards the woods beyond the back gate of the property, hoping to find some safety within the dense forest.
The sheep had already got there first and were trying to break down the back gate to escape. The field was large, as you also had many crops growing, sections of which had been trampled underfoot by the terrified animals as they fled.
You were halfway across the field when the sheep scattered, bleating loudly as they gave up on the back gate, running instead to cower in their pen. As they moved away from the gate, you noticed with horror that the black mist was now rolling out from the woods as well. Stopping in your tracks, you looked around you, only to see that the mist was coming at the farm from every direction. You were trapped, and the mist was only getting closer to engulfing you.
Desperately looking for any way out of your impending death, you caught sight of the farmhouse. If you couldn’t escape this mist, then maybe you could delay its effects by hiding in the cellar of the farmhouse long enough for help to arrive. It was the only option you could see other than waiting here to die, so you took it.
Your legs were burning from all the sprinting you had been doing in the last few minutes, but you couldn’t stop, not when it was the cellar or certain death. You were almost to the farmhouse, so close you could almost feel the temporary safety within your grasp, when the looming mist beat you there, swallowing the house into its depths just as you were about to reach the door.
Jerking back with a scream, you backed away from the writhing mist, not wanting it to touch your skin. By now, the mist had surrounded the farm, so close to you that you could no longer see the fences that surrounded the property.
You stood still, having nowhere to run as the mist surrounded you on all sides. Shaking with fear, you were surprised when the mist stopped advancing, leaving you in the middle of a circular patch of field.
You watched with wide eyes, waiting for the mist to swallow you, but it didn’t come any closer. You weren’t dead, but it wasn’t like this situation was much better. You couldn’t fight off a supernatural mist with sheep shears, and even if you could, they were on the ground somewhere in that mist.
The farmland was deathly silent; you could no longer hear the screams of your neighbors or the bleating of the sheep. Now that it was so close and with nowhere to go, you had nothing to do but stare at the mysterious fog that surrounded you.
It was dark, so dark that you couldn’t see through it, the sickly green streaks running around the edge of the mist like circling sharks. Following them with your eyes, you struggled to figure out what they were. You had a very limited worldview to draw on, the only comparison coming to mind being like a ghoul described to you in stories when you were a child.
You weren’t sure what was happening; the mist had swallowed everything else without mercy, so why were you a different case? You weren’t left waiting long, as the mist gave way to a tall figure who entered into the open section of field.
He was tall and ethereally pale, clothed all in black, which contrasted sharply with his short, wavy silver hair. Looking at his well-defined torso, you realized that he was too pale; his face and shirtless torso were gray-white, like all the life had been drained from him.
His outfit was simple, a black pair of pants and dark cropped jacket, obsidian armor covering his arms and legs. More than anything, your eyes were drawn to two unusual features; on his head was a sharp three-pointed crown the same color of the ghouls still circling you, and on his chest was a black triangle, so dark that it seemed like it was a bottomless hole.
His eyes glowed with a supernatural light, a shiver running down your spine as your eyes met his. Immediately, he began to stride towards you, sending you into a panic.
There was nowhere to go but into the mist, and that wasn’t an option, but that didn’t mean you wanted the ghostly man anywhere near you. You clutched your hands to your chest, backing up as far as you could without entering the mist, but the man would not be deterred.
His eyes never strayed from yours, his gaze so intense that you felt it hard to look away from. With nowhere to run, he was quickly upon you, but to your great surprise, he came to a stop before you.
He raised one gloved hand, and you flinched as he reached towards you, stunned when the hand came up to gently cup your cheek. Shaking with fear, you stared at him, scared to even breathe and attract his ire.
“My love,” came his voice, gravelly and in an accent that you did not recognize. “Finally you return to me.”
“Who are you?” you whispered, shivering from the cold of his armor-tipped fingers against your skin.
His head tilted slightly to the side, as if he was appraising you. You wanted to shrink away from his gaze, to remove his hand from your face, but you were terrified of upsetting him and risking yourself. As stagnant as your life was, it was your life, and you didn’t want to die here.
“You do not remember me,” he spoke softly, voice laced with disappointment. “A shame. But you will soon.”
You were scared to ask him what he meant, but felt relieved as he finally pulled his hand away from your cheek. Your relief was short-lived as his hand instead went to lay over the deep black triangle on his chest. Now that he was so close to you, the triangle truly did look like it was made of endless darkness. You could see no flesh in the black space; it looked like a keyhole to a dimension of utter black, the sight of it reminding you of the black mist that swirled around you.
There was also the fact that he had spoken to you like he knew you. You had never seen this man before, that you knew for sure. The only part of your life that was hazy was your life before the fire that had claimed your home and parents, but you couldn’t imagine meeting this ghoulish man back then and not remembering him.
You inhaled sharply when out of his chest materialized an orb of wiry light. The strands of light that made up the orb buzzed with energy, and seemed to act as a sort of cage for a small white light in the center that looked like a flickering flame. You knew that it was not natural; but no matter how long you stared at it, you would not be able to place its origins.
The orb was so bright, and felt very out of place in the void of darkness that you were currently trapped in as its light helped to illuminate the face of the stranger before you.
Even with how deathly pale he was, his face was still handsome, jawline sharp and free of even stubble. No matter how much you stared at his face, you couldn’t tell how old he was; he looked around your age, but also had the aura of someone or something much, much older. He looked down at the thrumming orb with a strange fondness in his eyes before he turned his attention back to you.
“I have missed you so dearly, Isolde,” he said as he began to bring the orb towards you.
“No, please!” you cried out in response.
You weren’t sure what that orb was; all you knew was that you didn’t want it touching you. He didn’t seem to hear your desperate pleas as the orb got closer and closer to your chest. You had nowhere to run, and nobody to save you from this ghostly lunatic.
The orb was almost at your chest, a tear dripping down your cheek as you stared down at it, and then everything was light.
You closed your eyes against the bright light, but were surprised to feel no pain. Hearing a male grunt, you opened your eyes as the light beyond your eyelids faded as quickly as it had come.
Looking around you, you saw the stranger across the field, the orb on the grass nearby. Immediately, you noticed that the area was better lit, looking over to see a large split in the dark mist that led across the field to a figure holding a large metallic device.
“Hurry!” Came the call from the figure, too far away for you to see them in much detail.
A snarl from behind you had you looking back to see the strange man getting up, the sight spurning you into action. You made a mad dash for the gap in the mist, ignoring the stranger’s angered calls for you to stop. You didn’t recognize the figure in the distance, but you would take any help you could get as you sprinted towards them.
As you got closer, you noticed that the figure you were running towards was a woman. She was dressed in black and white, gold-accented dreadlocks hanging out of one side of her white hood. You couldn’t place the large metal device that she held; you had never seen anything like it before.
“You will not interfere!”
You glanced behind you, seeing the stranger following behind you, now holding a sword that was longer than he was tall, aglow with supernatural energy. The sight of him, of the fury in his eyes tripped you up, sending you tumbling to the ground.
You scrambled to your feet, but the delay was enough that he was rapidly catching up to you. The look in his eyes froze you in your tracks, only able to manage small steps backward until your arm was suddenly grabbed from behind.
You yelped as you were picked up and then quickly deposited back on the ground a short distance away from where you had been. Looking over, you saw a man in white standing protectively in front of you, twin pistols raised and pointed at the silver-haired man with the sword.
He quickly turned his head back to face you. “Go.” When you hadn’t moved after a few seconds, he barked the order again, his deep voice loud and commanding.
You nodded rapidly before turning to run, hoping that the man would be okay. You knew that you wouldn’t feel confident facing that ghoulish man down, but the man that had come to your rescue seemed to exude a quiet confidence, so you had to trust that he would be okay as you desperately sprinted towards the woman and her strange weapon-like device.
As soon as you were in her reach, she pulled you behind her. You saw the man who had saved you facing off with the sword-wielding stranger, rapidly firing bolts of light at him while narrowly dodging blows from the giant sword.
“Is he okay?” you asked, consumed with worry.
The woman nodded. “He can handle himself. We need to get you out of here while Viego is distracted.”
“Viego?” you echoed, turning your gaze from the fight in front of you to meet her startlingly green eyes.
“I’ll explain everything when we’re away from this place,” she answered, resting her large weapon against her shoulder. “We need to go.”
You were reluctant to leave the man fighting alone, but you had no power to help him. You couldn’t insist on staying here when it would doom all three of you.
As you and the woman ran towards the road, your thoughts turned to the owner, your neighbors… your whole town. Hopping over the fence, you found yourself facing down a wasteland.
The nearby farms looked like they had been hit by a tornado, fences broken and chunks of wood gouged out of houses. You couldn’t see anyone around but you and the woman at your side. Just an hour ago, those farms had been full of life, and now, nothing.
You were led around a bend in the road, where a metal cart waited with two large creatures hitched to it. One of the creatures turned its head to look at you and you stared back, trying to figure out what exactly it was.
“Greathorns,” the woman answered your unspoken question. “They’re very reliable.”
You nodded your head slowly; you felt like you had heard the owner mention greathorns before, but you knew that you had never seen one in person. They were bigger than any horse you had seen, with beige beardlike tufts of hair under their chins and large jagged horns that almost looked like a dragon’s wing sprouting from their heads.
The woman looked like she was about to say something, but she was interrupted by a horrible guttural screech from the direction you had just fled from. You met eyes with the woman, feeling unnerved when you noticed the worry in her expression.
Your momentary panic was shattered as a figure zipped around the corner. You were relieved to see that it was the man in the white jacket, though his clothing looked considerably more scuffed up than it had a few minutes ago.
“Is he–” the woman started to say.
“He’s down for now, but we have to go,” the man answered, running over to join you at the cart.
They both sprang into action, the woman placing her weapon into the cart before jumping in herself and helping you in while the man took his place at the reins, spurning the greathorns into movement.
You turned back to try and see what had become of the farm you had called home for most of your life. The dark mist still lingered over the farm, but it was getting thinner by the second. You didn’t see the strange man, the owner, or even the sheep. It was almost unbelievable how quickly your entire way of life had been decimated; as you watched the ruined farm get farther and farther away, you wondered if you would ever return.
You hadn’t realized that you had dozed off until you were being gently nudged awake. You weren’t surprised you had fallen asleep after the day you had, combined with the long cart ride.
You opened your eyes to see the woman who had rescued you, who offered a kind smile your way when she noticed that you were awake. “We’re here.”
“Here…?” you replied sleepily, before your attention was drawn to the scene around you.
You felt like you were in a world straight out of a fairy tale. Tall buildings made of polished white stone surrounded you, much more extravagant than anything you had ever seen before. The roads were paved, people in fancy dress and armor milling about. You were in awe of the fashion, suddenly feeling like a country bumpkin in your wool-covered overalls.
“Welcome to Demacia City,” the man said, steering the cart to a waiting stable.
You got off of the cart with shaky feet, feeling overwhelmed by the reality of the big city you had always dreamed of visiting. Looking out at the beautiful architecture of the city, you only wished you could have come here under better circumstances. The beautiful city instantly dulled in your eyes when you thought back to the state of your hometown, desolated by the dark mist.
“I thought it would be better to let you sleep,” the woman’s voice broke through the fog in your brain and you turned to look at her. “Now that we have a moment to breathe, I thought we should introduce ourselves. My name is Senna, and this is my husband Lucian.”
Lucian nodded to you when he was introduced, and you shyly gave your name back. Once the introductions had been made, you followed Senna through the streets after she had insisted that it would be safer to explain everything once you had arrived at a more secure location.
The more secure location ended up being a large building at the edge of town, the inside of the building a large circular chamber. You could see a few doors on the other side of the chamber, but didn’t get to see where they led as Senna stood in the center of the room, the light from a glass panel far above her bathing her form in a gentle glow. Lucian stood close to his wife, and you came to a stop a few feet away, nervous for what you were about to hear.
“Alright, so the start of this all goes back over a thousand years ago,” Senna started, the sheer amount of time involved stunning you. “That man… Viego… he was a king back then.”
“He was the king of Demacia?” you blurted out. It was hard to imagine someone so ghoulish and cruel being the king of Demacia, even a thousand years ago.
“Not here,” Lucian denied with a shake of his head. “A long-dead empire on a continent east of here.”
Another continent? You had never even heard of another continent; the farthest your geographical knowledge went were the other kingdoms that bordered Demacia. But if he was from another continent…
“…then how did he get here?” you voiced your sudden thought, watching as Senna’s expression hardened, as if your words hurt her to think about.
After a pause, she answered. “Viego was a poor king who instead focussed all of his attention on a peasant girl he had made his wife, Isolde.”
An unsettling feeling made its way into your stomach as Senna spoke her name, but you kept your feelings in, not wanting to interrupt her story.
“With his attention on Isolde, Viego did not govern. Wanting to be rid of their useless king, assassins came to take Viego’s life, but their aim was misplaced. Their poison dagger sliced the arm of the queen, who fell deathly ill from the toxin.”
As her story went on, the bad feeling got worse and worse. It was not at all helped by the knowledge of your mystery scar, the one on your arm that you had no memory of ever getting in the first place. Still, you kept quiet and listened.
“To cure his wife, Viego brought her to the Blessed Isles, but she didn’t survive the journey and was brought as a corpse,” Senna explained. “The elders refused him entry, as the blessed waters could not bring back the dead, but Viego forced his way through.”
You were beginning to have a hard time breathing, terror seeping into your skin as you thought about that dream, the same dream you had been having most of your life. You felt compelled to listen to rest of Senna’s story, even if you suspected that you knew how it would end.
“Isolde was angry and confused after being ripped from death. She stabbed Viego with his own sword, the touch of the ancient sword to the blessed waters turning the whole island into unlife. Viego’s death is what created the Shadow Isles.”
The Shadow Isles? You had thought they were just a myth. Everyone in your town had heard of the terrifying land that was said to be cursed with unlife, its residents thralls to the terrible curse. It had been said that anyone who ventured to the Shadow Isles would lose themselves to death and madness, but you had only heard the place mentioned by parents trying to discourage their children from behaving badly, telling them that the monsters from the from the isles would come and get them if they didn’t behave themselves.
You knew what was coming, but you couldn’t bear to say it out loud, feeling like the words were too horrifying for you to speak. Thankfully, Senna decided at last to get to the heart of the matter.
“Viego took Isolde’s memory from me, and now he intends to reunite her memory with her body,” Senna said, her eyes tinged with regret. “And that is why he’s after you.”
“So then that orb…” your voice trailed off as you thought about the ball of light that had nearly been forced upon you.
“Isolde’s memory from when she was alive,” Lucian confirmed. “Senna has had it with her for a long time.”
“And you think that I’m…” You couldn’t bring yourself to say it.
“Yes,” Senna confirmed gently. “You are the reincarnation of Isolde. Viego would not have come after you if you weren’t.”
“But I’m not… I’m just a farmhand…”
You knew that she was right. There was no other explanation, but you still didn’t want to believe it. You were a farm worker, not a long-dead queen. Yesterday you had been pulling carrots out of the ground, and today you were on the run from a demented king who believed he could use your body to bring back his dead wife. You didn’t have an exciting life, but it was yours, and you didn’t want to lose it to fulfil Viego’s twisted obsession.
Senna and Lucian had stayed silent, giving you a moment to try and calm yourself down, which you appreciated. You would probably cry about it tonight, but for now you would stay as strong as you could. You were used to talking about your feelings with the animals on the farm, but felt uncomfortable with being overly emotional in front of other people, considering the main person you talked to was the owner, and he was not one for heartfelt conversations.
“We won’t let him have you,” Senna promised.
“And besides, after what I did to him, he’ll need a few days to recover his strength,” Lucian added.
“Thank you both,” you said, bowing your head low. “If it wasn’t for you, I don’t even want to think about where I’d be.”
“Raise your head,” Senna said gently. You looked up to see her with a smile on her face, which made you feel a bit better. “Don’t go thanking us yet. Not until we send Viego back into the darkness for good.”
“Can we really stop him?” you asked.
“We’ll sure try,” she replied as you silently wished you had the confidence that she did. “But first, we have something else to do.”
You bit your lip, unsure of what she meant. What could be more important than dealing with the looming threat of Viego’s return?
“You’ve never left that town, have you?” Senna asked with a raised eyebrow, and you nodded. “How would you like to see the city?”
“But don’t we have to–”
“I’ll handle the work for now,” Lucian cut in. “We haven’t been back here in some time and Senna might aim her gun my way if she doesn’t get some downtime.”
“Me?” Senna replied with mock incredulity. “You were the one going on about missing Demacian sugar rolls.”
Lucian didn’t look bothered by his wife’s sass, staring at her with a pout until she relented with a smile and a shake of her head. “…we’ll get you some when we’re out.”
“Thank you kindly,” Lucian replied fondly.
After giving Lucian a quick kiss goodbye, Senna turned back to you, gesturing towards the door. “Ready to get a look at what the city is really like?”
You had thought the streets of Demacia City were big, but found yourself thoroughly blown away by the sheer size of the grand plaza in the center of the city. It was mostly empty now, but according to Senna, the entire space was packed with people when they held special events. It was hard to believe that you were standing in a place where wars had been declared and kings had been crowned.
The marketplace was less spacious, but no less overwhelming. Merchants of all types lined the streets, selling wares you could only dream of before today.
It was in the market that you got to try one of the sugar rolls that Lucian was so fond of, the crystalized sugar melting on your tongue. With so many new sights and smells, you were having a hard time deciding where to look, at least until you laid eyes on a colorful stand selling various types of clothing items.
Walking a bit closer while Senna perused some metalwork from a nearby shop, you found your attention drawn to a dress hanging on one of the racks in front of the seller. It was short, probably knee-length at best, and the same light blue as the sky. The dress was simple, with long sleeves and an a-line skirt, but it was the finer details that had caught your eye; sewn into the hem of the skirt and collar of the dress were little white birds in flight across the fabric.
You had never seen such intricate design work; in your town, people wore practical clothing for working; there was no need for a nice dress when you were just going to get mud all over it anyways. The more you saw of this place, the more you began to feel dissatisfied with how you had been living up until now. But then again, you may not live at all beyond the next few days, not if the ruined king got ahold of you. What a mess you had made of your own life, and Senna and Lucian’s as well.
“You know you’re not a burden, right?” Senna’s voice right behind you snapped you right out of your thoughts and you turned to look at her, her green eyes piercing right through you.
“I, uh…” You weren’t sure how to answer her as you processed her words. It was hard to think of yourself as anything but a burden; your existence itself had caused your town to be invaded by a long-dead king from the Shadow Isles, and now Senna and Lucian had to protect you or face the destruction of the entirety of Runeterra. You were an incredible burden.
“No, none of that,” Senna said, shaking her head with a smile, before her voice turned serious. “You’re a person with feelings and desires. You don’t deserve to be used in Viego’s plot to bring back his queen. You are worthy of being helped, so don’t you dare think otherwise.”
You were stunned speechless. You wanted to refute her words, but the look in her eyes was telling you that doing so would be a bad idea. Instead, you nodded reluctantly, and her stern face finally relaxed back into a smile.
“Good, then we’re going to practice being confident,” she said. “If we don’t work on your confidence, then you’ll never be able to stop fearing those who reside in the dark.”
She was right. You knew she was. “…okay.”
“See that dress over there?” Senna asked, jerking her chin towards the blue dress with the white bird trim. “You like it, right?”
You stiffened. You thought that she had been perusing the metal works being sold, but clearly she had been paying more attention to you than you had given her credit for.
“…it’s nice,” you admitted at last. “I’ve never owned a dress before. The owner of the farm said they would just get ripped and dirty.”
“I think we should get it then,” Senna replied, voice quieting so the seller couldn’t hear her next words. “Sometimes we all need a reminder that we’re not trapped in the dark. This dress can serve as your reminder that you’re brighter than the darkness that chases you.”
You were reluctant to accept the dress, but Senna paid the seller before you could properly object. Handing the dress to you, she looked pleased as she watched you marvel over the soft fabric and beautiful design. Looking back up at her, you were about to thank her, but stopped when she held up a hand.
“If you want to thank me, you can help me set the wards around the house. Besides, we’ll both get an earful if Lucian has to wait any longer for his sugar rolls.”
You thanked her anyways as you both turned to head out of the market, arms full of dress and sugar rolls.
The next morning found you outside with Senna, helping her set up complicated devices around the outside of the building while Lucian worked to set some of the same devices on the roof. You watched carefully as Senna demonstrated how each ward had to be placed in order to work properly, not wanting to mess up when you set up the next one yourself.
“Will these keep him out?” you asked as you bent down to place a ward against the wall.
“A little to the left,” Senna corrected, and you moved the heavy metal device to the left until she nodded with satisfaction. “Nothing can keep Viego out, but these should weaken his strength enough to give us a chance.”
You winced; you had anticipated her answer, knowing how powerful Viego had seemed from your short interaction with him. Hoping to defeat him seemed like a futile effort, but you wanted to believe it was possible. You knew so little about the world outside of your farming town, so at this point, anything seemed like it could be possible. You had no choice but to hope anyways because if you failed, you would be lost forever, at least if Viego had his way.
Your life had become infinitely more precious now that it had come under threat; you wanted to help Senna and Lucian, the people who valued you for being you, not a dead king who looked at you and only saw his departed wife.
“The roof’s all set!” Lucian called out from above you.
“Good!” Senna called back as she heaved another ward into her arms. “Then you can test the wards when I finish setting this one up.”
“On my way, dear,” came Lucian’s lighthearted reply.
The rest of the afternoon was spent finalizing the ward setup. You had never seen them before, and were surprised to see them light up as Lucian ran by them, leaving him looking exhausted by the contact. You had been even more shocked when Senna had told you that the wards had been set to their lowest setting for the test. If Lucian had been that tired on the lowest setting, then maybe you could have hope that the highest setting would have a significant effect on Viego.
“But are we sure he’ll set them off?” you asked Senna as she turned the wards back off.
“I’m sure,” she replied confidently. “Anywhere you are, he’ll go, except now we can use that to our advantage.”
The only problem being that you didn’t know exactly when he would come. Lucian’s guess of a few days was just that; a guess. He had explained that the day they had saved you was only their second time fighting Viego, the first time being when Viego had stolen Isolde’s memories from Senna. But it had been a few days without any sign of the dead king or his black mist, so you figured that Lucian’s estimate had been accurate.
By the fifth day with no sign of Viego, you began to prepare for the worst. He could come for you any day, at any time, so you were confined to the home with either Lucian or Senna with you at all times. You were disappointed that you could no longer explore the city, but you couldn’t make yourself an easy target for Viego to snatch from the streets.
There were some back rooms with beds to sleep in, but you spent most of your time in the circular chamber that made up most of the building, talking with Senna and Lucian or helping them with tasks. The time going by was wearing on you all as you wondered when Viego would come. By the seventh day, you were unable to relax, constantly worried that every noise you heard denoted the return of the ruined king.
It was late into night of the seventh day, but none of you could sleep, all finding yourselves in the chamber room. You were sitting against the wall, watching Senna as she cleaned one of Lucian’s guns, her own large gun resting on the floor next to her. Lucian had been pacing for a while, and you could tell it was beginning to wear on Senna’s nerves.
“Lucian, if you need to–”
Senna’s quip was cut off by a loud chime sounding from outside. The wards.
Immediately, Senna was on her feet, tossing the gun she had been working on to Lucian before picking her own gun up as they both turned to face the hallway, which was the only way in and out of the building.
“Hide yourself!” Senna called hurriedly to you before turning back to face the hall, Lucian at her side with his guns trained on the hallway.
You quickly heeded her words; you couldn’t see any sign of the dark mist yet, but you knew it would only be a matter of time. You dashed over to an ordinary-looking panel on the wall that you would have found otherwise unnoteworthy, if it hadn’t been for Senna showing you how it worked a few days ago.
Pulling the panel to the side, the secret door slid open to reveal a small nook, just big enough for a person to stand inside. You looked back to Senna to see her staring at you, giving you a quick nod when you looked worriedly back at her. Not wanting to trouble them by ruining the plans, you got into the nook, closing the door carefully behind you.
You were largely in darkness, the only source of light being the small eye-level slit that gave you a one-way view into the chamber. You were glad there was a wall directly at your back, because the lack of space was the only thing keeping you standing right now in the face of the onset of terror you were feeling.
Viego didn’t leave you waiting long; Senna and Lucian jumped back as mist flooded the chamber, retreating to the center of the room.
“There!” Lucian called as a figure suddenly appeared through the mist.
Viego moved quickly to the side, dodging a bolt of light from Senna’s gun. He emerged fully from the mist, eyes scanning the area, assumedly looking for you. You knew that he couldn’t possibly see you, but it didn’t stop you from shrinking back.
“Where is she?!” Viego demanded, the anger in his voice sending a cold shiver down your back.
“Nowhere you need to worry about,” Lucian answered.
“I can feel her,” Viego snarled back, his mystical sword appearing in his grasp. “Where is she?!”
“I think you have bigger concerns right now,” Senna replied smoothly, and then she and Lucian jumped into action.
Lucian quickly moved to one side of the ruined king, firing bolts of light at him before backing out of Viego’s range. Meanwhile, Senna sent several strong blasts of light from her own gun Viego’s way, the two working together to try and take the king down.
Viego let out a frustrated growl as the bolts hit him, but didn’t appear to be injured like you certainly would be if you had been on the receiving end of the might of Senna and Lucian’s weapons.
Now that you thought about it, he didn’t seem any less powerful for someone who had triggered a series of wards that had winded Lucian on their lowest setting. Your theory was confirmed when he didn’t seem affected by anything Lucian or Senna threw his way. You would be frustrated, but neither one of them wavered, sending shot after shot at the ruined king.
“Enough!” Viego shouted, waves of mist pushing Senna and Lucian back. “You will surrender her to me or you will drown in my mist!”
As Senna and Lucian recovered their footing, the mist grew denser as it swirled around the room. You gasped as demonic green figures made of mist rose from the haze of black, and at the same time that Viego vanished into mist, they charged.
Lucian was firing bolts of light at the mist creatures left and right, but they were endless; as one was struck down, another one rose from the mist to take its place. As Lucian tried to fend off the creatures, Senna was forced to fight off Viego himself as he appeared before her, attempting to strike at her with his sword. It was a strange image, the two and their oversized weapons locked in combat, each trying to overpower the other.
The fight was quickly going bad for your friends; Viego was holding back nothing, his creatures aiding him by swiping at Senna, backing her into a corner as Lucian tried desperately to fight his way closer to her as she continued to shoot the creatures that tried to grab at her.
“You shouldn’t have the strength–” Senna growled as she fired at Viego.
“Your feeble wards cannot harm me,” Viego jeered as he swung his sword towards her. “Nothing will keep me from my queen.”
Viego stabbed his sword forward, but Senna was able to swerve out of the way, causing his sword to imbed into the wall opposite from where you were hiding. Viego then was forced to pull the tip of his sword from the wall, and Senna used that time to send a wide blast of light Lucian’s way, destroying the creatures that had surrounded him. Shooting Senna a grateful smile, Lucian began to fire at more creatures around the room, but his efforts still didn’t seem to be making a dent in the influx of creatures that filled the room.
Senna and Lucian’s luck ran out as Viego’s impatience reached a boiling point. With an angered grunt, he swung his sword at Senna, missing her body but striking her gun. The impact set Senna’s balance off, sending her falling to the ground, her gun spinning out of her grasp and onto the ground a few feet away from her. She made a desperate grab for her weapon, but was again stopped by a warning strike from Viego’s sword narrowly missing her arm.
Senna’s moment of weakness was quickly capitalized on by the mist wraiths as she was immediately swarmed, her body held down by many ghoulish creatures while Viego stood over her.
“Senna!”
Lucian’s desperate shout pierced the air as he charged forward, but was unable to get to Senna, his way blocked by the mist creatures. He shot bolt after bolt, but the demons pressed onwards, only growing in number. Soon he too was overwhelmed, pushed against the wall by the wraiths, his twin guns knocked to the floor. You watched with horror as they both struggled under the grasp of the wraiths, but were unable to break themselves free. The hope in your heart that this fight would be the end of Viego was snuffed out entirely as you watched Viego stand over Senna.
“Your life matters little to me, but I will offer one final choice. Give her to me or die,” Viego threatened, his voice cold with fury.
Senna glared up at him, struggling against the wraiths’ hold even as Viego loomed over her. “You will destroy this world.”
“I will destroy you,” Viego corrected. “And all of those who stand in the way of my love. I hope your impudence was worth your life.”
Viego raised his sword to strike Senna down, and you knew that you would only have seconds to act.
Senna and Lucian were willing to give their lives to protect you, but you couldn’t let that happen. You were not worth the lives of two strong, kind people; people who had rescued you and treated you with more care than the owner ever had, despite only knowing you for a week. One thought rang out loud and clear in your head as you watched Viego prepare to take Senna’s life; I can’t let her die.
You would only have a moment to save her life, so you didn’t waste a second, noisily shoving the secret door open.
“Stop!”
The attention of the three people in the room was drawn to you as you stepped forward, dark mist swirling around up to your knees. Viego’s eyes widened upon seeing you, but behind him, Senna was shaking her head, her eyes begging you to run. But you couldn’t run, not if you wanted to save her and Lucian.
“Please stop,” you implored the ruined king, forcing your legs forward even if the thought of moving closer to him terrified you. You had to do this for Senna and Lucian. You couldn’t allow your fear of what would happen to you to still your steps.
Viego’s sword dissolved into mist as he turned to face you, but the wraiths did not loosen their grip on your friends.
“My love,” Viego called as he began to approach you. “I knew I felt your soul call to mine.”
Ignoring his flowery words, you stopped a few feet from him, scared you would lose your nerve if you got any closer. “I’ll go with you, just please… please let them live.”
You stared into his otherworldly green eyes, trying to stay firm despite a desperate cry of your name from Senna. This was the only way, you reassured yourself. This was the only way to save their lives, even if it meant losing your own. You thought of the time in the marketplace with Senna, of listening to Lucian’s bad jokes, allowing the memories to keep your soul warm against the onslaught of dread you were facing down.
“You’ll come back to me?” Viego’s voice was kinder, softer than you had ever heard it sound as he continued to approach you.
“If you let them live,” you repeated. You could not see your friends beyond Viego’s broad form, but your voice still cracked with a sob as you addressed them. “Senna, Lucian… I’m sorry. And thank you for helping me.”
Viego raised a hand to wipe your tears away, ignoring the protests of Senna and Lucian behind him. “I knew I would find you again, my love.”
You knew it was coming, but you still let out a whimper as he once again materialized the buzzing orb of memories from the dark triangle on his chest, but unlike last time, there was no escape for you now.
“Together at last…” Viego whispered as he pressed the orb to your chest.
The orb felt cold, and then warm, too warm, as it pressed into your skin, absorbing into your body. You collapsed into Viego’s arms with a silent gasp of pain, the last thing you heard before passing out being Senna screaming your name.
There was a beautiful girl, her fingers delicately working a threaded needle through soft fabric that lay in her lap. You had never met her, but you knew who she was; after all, you had seen her corpse in your dreams. It was undoubtedly Isolde… you, from your past life.
You were surprised to find that you were watching the scene as yourself, not through her eyes. The realization brought you some measure of relief; maybe you were not lost entirely to her memory, at least not yet.
The scene around Isolde was blurry, but her figure was clear as day as you watched her gently sew along the fabric, and then it all blurred again. When the scene reformed itself, you watched a man approach her, young and handsome, his brown hair falling in waves to his chin. He was easily recognizable, but a far cry from the figure of unlife that he had become. Viego.
You couldn’t hear their voices, or the scene around them, but you watched as Viego bent down on one knee before Isolde and felt the shock and happiness that Isolde felt, and then the world around you warped once more.
Now you were in a magnificent castle, Viego and Isolde dressed in beautiful wedding clothes, figures leaning towards each other as they kissed. You could not see the faces of the crowd that watched, nor hear the vows exchanged; all you could feel was Isolde’s joy, which left you feeling warm, as if it was you there on your wedding day. It made sense; since it was you, the past you.
You felt the next scene before you saw it; a slow sadness appearing in your chest that left you feeling confused. Then the figures appeared; it was Viego and Isolde in a huge room together, his arms around her. Viego looked happier than you had ever seen him in unlife, but your eyes were drawn to Isolde. On her face was a small smile, but you knew she was sad, you could feel the quiet sadness radiating from her. But what did she have to be sad about? You followed her gaze, looking out a window to see a garden outside, birds flying around and flowers swaying gently with the breeze, but before you could get a closer look, you were gone again.
Now you saw Isolde standing behind Viego, her smile dimmer than before. Viego was wordlessly shouting at a faceless girl in servant’s clothes, a messy assortment of wildflowers crushed under Viego’s feet. Isolde was clutching at her skirt, and you felt a sense of powerlessness from her, along with that same sadness that held tight to her chest.
And then the scenes began to go by faster. Viego, blocking the way to the garden, sending Isolde back to their shared room. Viego, refusing entrance to the castle to an older woman who had the same eyes as Isolde while she watched the scene from a window high above in the castle. Viego pulling Isolde back to him when she tried to leave the room.
As the scenes flashed by, you could feel Isolde’s sadness grow. Time went on, and Isolde stopped smiling; you were watching her soul wither away a little more each time Viego cut another person out of her life. She was not allowed to see anybody but him, not allowed to leave his side even for a second… she was not a person anymore, but a doll to be moved at Viego’s whim.
She felt powerless, trapped by the man she had once loved. Your chest hurt, feeling like you were slowly being suffocated by the loneliness she felt; she was caged, shackled by his love, knowing there would be no escape.
But Viego still looked the same, no matter how many scenes passed by you. It was like he didn’t notice her pain, or maybe he didn’t care; didn’t care for anything but himself. You wanted to make it all stop; Isolde’s deep pain had nearly brought you to your knees, tears rolling down your cheeks as you desperately wished Viego would see her pain, but he never did. He always smiled that contented smile, never noticing that Isolde’s own didn’t reach her eyes.
The days finally slowed down and you were left standing in a large chamber room. The scene was tense; men in black swarmed the chamber, purple-tipped daggers poised to take the life of the king. Viego’s soldiers fought back valiantly, but one enemy broke through their ranks, dagger aimed at Viego’s heart, but their aim was put off course by a clever swipe from a spear. The poisoned dagger missed its target, but sliced Isolde instead, cutting through the sleeve of her dress and into the flesh of her arm.
Isolde knew as soon as the poison pierced her flesh that she would die. But while you expected to feel fear, worry, panic… all you felt was calm. The poison would slowly take her life, but that was what Viego had been doing over years with his possessive grip. At least at the end of this, she would be free in death, free of the iron grip Viego had on her in life. But alas, even death would not free her from his grasp.
The scene shifted one final time, and you knew what was coming. Viego held Isolde’s body, cold and dead, in his arms. The scene should have been upsetting, but the feelings that rushed through you were anything but. Isolde was dead, but her spirit was free at last, no longer a prisoner to Viego’s will.
But Viego would not allow her to be apart from him, even in death. So she rose, her anger finally unable to be contained, and stabbed him with his own sword. You watched the scene with no pity for the mortally-wounded Viego; Isolde had killed him, but she had been dead for many years before she had been poisoned. His love for her was more poisonous than any toxic dagger; he had been killing her slowly from the moment they had met, and only in death did she find the courage to return the favor.
Isolde had wanted a loving husband, but had ended up with a loving monster. This was nothing like the tale of true love Viego had spun, but he was the only one delusional enough to not see his marriage as what it was.
The scene faded to black at last, leaving you hurting body and soul, Isolde’s pain and sadness making your body feel numb from the inside out. You felt her emotions as if they were your own, and you supposed that they had been yours, a very long time ago.
The memories faded, and were quickly replaced by a soreness all over, like you had fallen from a decent height. Opening your eyes with a pained moan, you realized that you had beaten the odds; you had confronted Isolde’s memories, but you had not lost yourself to them. You were still you.
But with that good news came a lot of bad. You woke up in a bed, in a room that you had never seen before. The room was ornate, but looked dilapidated due to time. The gold posts of the canopy bed you laid in were speckled with dust, the blanket you laid under severely wrinkled.
Sitting up, you were relieved to see that you were still in the blue dress you had been wearing back in that chamber when you had given yourself up to Viego to save Senna and Lucian. You had passed out before you could ensure Viego kept his word, the memories too much for you to handle. For now, you chose to believe that they were alive, because knowing that you had done everything you could and they had still perished would crush what was left of your spirit.
You doubted you were still in Demacia, and one look outside the half-scratched window was enough to confirm that fact. The outside of the castle was even more depressing than the inside; the outside walls were cracked, the stones covered in black vegetation that you would have thought was ivy if it weren’t the color of tar. Angel statues on raised platforms stood tall in the outside courtyard, looking extremely out of place amidst the sinister green mist that seemed to hover over the whole area.
The supernatural layer of mist confirmed it; you had been taken to the Shadow Isles. The realization made your chances of escape nearly nonexistent. The Shadow Isles were filled with undead creatures hungry for the souls of the living, if the stories you had heard about this place were to be believed. And looking over the land that seemed to radiate unlife, you were certainly inclined to believe them.
Footsteps from outside the room broke your focus away from the view outside. Looking quickly around the room, you did not see anywhere to hide. With no other option, you began to back up to the far wall, staring at the large ornamental door as terror burned in your chest.
The door creaked open slowly, revealing the figure of the man you least wanted to see right now. While your mood dimmed upon seeing him, a smile lit up his face when he caught sight of you.
Viego wasted no time striding over to you while you stayed still, back against the wall both physically and metaphorically. Strangely, as he approached you, your fear began to morph into disgust. This man would not let you go, no matter how many lives you lived or places you went. As he took you into his arms, one word repeated in your head like the beat of a drum. Selfish.
He had stolen Isolde’s happiness, locked her away like a bird in a cage, and now he was doing the same to you. Letting out an internal sigh, you wished that you could go back to your boring farm days, which felt like they had been years ago, not weeks. But Viego did not give up his possessions easily, and that’s what you were now. A doll for a selfish king to keep by his side forever.
You hadn’t realized you were crying again until Viego had pulled back, his fingers sweeping across your cheeks to catch the tears.
“You’re safe, my queen,” he whispered, his words doing nothing to comfort you. And besides, you were clearly not safe if the biggest threat to your safety was standing before you, oblivious to all he had done.
You didn’t know what to do now; he wasn’t going to let you go, but you would rather die than live the rest of your life trapped in this place, pretending you were still the dead king’s dead wife.
“I have waited so long for you to return to me again,” he said, his jade green eyes staring into yours, ignoring your plight, just as he always did with Isolde.
You were tired, you were sad, and you were angry. But Viego only saw his own reflection in your eyes. He only saw what he wanted to see; you wondered if he even saw your features when he looked at you, or just superimposed Isolde’s features over yours in his mind’s eye.
It was a strange feeling; you wanted to be anywhere but here, but at the same time, you wanted the man before you to at least see you as you were now, to know your name even if he addressed you by another. Your mind was a mess, your heart even more so, but you would find no comfort in Viego’s arms, nor in his words.
“Isolde–”
“Don’t call me that!” you shouted, ripping yourself from his arms as you could no longer calm your rising anger. “And don’t call me your wife either! You have never cared about me, not back then and not now. You have never cared about anyone but yourself, Viego! You should have let Isolde stay dead!”
Viego looked shocked and hurt by your words, his silver eyebrows raised high on his forehead. You were expecting him to yell back, to tell you to know your place, but he just stood there, and then like the mist, he vanished.
His form turned to mist, and as you watched him flee, you couldn’t help a desire to have the final word.
“My name is–”
He was gone before you could say your name, but you shouted it anyways. Even if he didn’t use your name, it felt good to say it, even just to remind yourself that you were not the person you had been in your past life. Whatever happened, you would not allow this place to steal your identity from you.
You waited in silence, but Viego did not return. After some time, you reluctantly sat back down on the bed, your feet tired of standing, but Viego still did not come back to the room.
You were unsure what to make of what had happened. The Viego you had seen flee the room contradicted everything you knew about him. Could your words really have reached him? It was the only conclusion you could come to, but it sounded so unbelievable; an all-powerful dead king fleeing a room after being called selfish by a small town farm girl.
The encounter had been short, but you found yourself already tired. With no sign of Viego returning, and not much else to do, you slipped back under the ruffled covers, laying your head on the same pillow you had woken up on.
Maybe it was owing to your trip through Isolde’s memories that you were so tired now. Closing your eyes, you were relieved that you were still you, though you were still having a hard time reconciling how to see yourself with your time as Isolde. You had been her a long time ago, but she still felt like a different person, like a character in a story. You looked different, and lived different lives, but you were still weighed down by the possessiveness of the same man.
You had been surprised to see Viego look so hurt, but you refused to feel bad about what you had said. It seemed like everyone around him, including Isolde, had been too afraid to confront the king on his faults, at least that was what you assumed. You didn’t know where you got the courage yourself; maybe it was Isolde’s sorrow and frustration finally boiling over from a lifetime of being controlled that emboldened your tongue.
Either way, what you had said could not be taken back, so there was no point in ruminating over the situation, not when you were already having a hard time focussing on anything with how exhausted you were. There would be time to lament your situation when you woke up, you decided, consciousness drifting off at last.
You were surprised to feel so well-rested, but your mood was brought back down when you opened your eyes to the same dusty room you had fallen asleep in. It was just as empty as it was before, save for your body under the covers.
With how dedicated he had been to capturing you, Viego’s sudden absence was surprising. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but everything in the room looked the same as it had before you had gone to sleep, so you had to assume that he had not returned while you were sleeping. It was probably for the best; you wouldn’t know what to say to him even if he was here.
Upon waking up, you were confronted with a new problem; your empty stomach. Come to think of it, when was the last time that you had ate something? You still had no idea how long you had been unconscious after Viego forced Isolde’s memories into you, but you had a vague recollection of eating some steamed buns Lucian had brought back from the market a few hours before Viego had attacked. But clearly that had been a while ago, if the gnawing emptiness in your stomach was any indication.
You were reluctant to leave the room and risk running into Viego, fearful of his anger after what you had said to him, but your stomach was so empty it hurt. Maybe you would get lucky and find a fruit laying around and scramble back to your room before you were caught. With that hope in mind, you walked quietly over to the door, prepared to do what you had to in order to survive for the rest of the day.
Unfortunately for you, the rest of the castle was just as dusty and dilapidated as your room had been. It was clear that this place was very old; anyone who had lived here in life was long dead by now. Eventually, you located the closest thing to a kitchen you thought you would find in this place, but instead of food, you found dust, cobwebs and the occasional brittle rat skeleton, which crumbled to dust under your touch.
There was no food here, that much was obvious, which led you to a new dilemma. You couldn’t ask Viego for food; for one, he terrified you, and there was also the fact that you had no idea where he even was. The castle was too large for you to check every room for him with any great speed, and so far you had not heard or seen any evidence of anyone else in this place but yourself.
So what were you supposed to do now? The thought of walking out into the Shadow Isles terrified you to your core, but what alternative did you have? Stay here and starve to death, a prisoner to a man who seemed like he had no further use for you if you weren’t the same person you were when you were Isolde?
It seemed that Viego avoiding you was a blessing in more ways than one, because now he wasn’t here to stop you from leaving the castle. It was easy enough for you to find the front door, following the patchy red carpet until it led down a long staircase that took you to another ornate door. Whoever’s castle this had been must have either been royalty or obscenely wealthy to live in a place this grand. The entryway alone was almost the size of the entire farmhouse back in your hometown. As grand as it was, you hoped that you would never see this awful, lonely place again once you exited the door.
The door was a lot heavier than it looked, but you managed to pry it open, the chill of the outside air telling you immediately that you were about to do something very dangerous. But it was this or starve, you reminded yourself as you took the first step outside, and it was better that you tried to find your way off of this island before you were too weak from lack of food and water.
Sinister green mist clung to the land, thick enough to obscure the far away, but just thin enough for you to see twenty or so feet around yourself. You remembered hearing as a child that the mist of the Shadow Isles was made up of the souls of the damned that had once lived here, but seeing it now, you hoped that it wasn’t true.
The stone angel statues were even more unsettling up close, standing on either side of the pathway like guards, their stone eyes seemingly staring down at you as you passed. Every step you took, you were scared the cracked ground would give out under you, but it held fast. It was a miracle that this awful place didn’t just crumble and sink into the cursed waters that surrounded it.
You quickened your steps, eager to be rid of this place as soon as possible. That, and the faster you were out of here the better a chance you had of getting off this island before Viego noticed you were gone.
The angel-statue-lined pathway opened up to a network of crumbled stone walls of all different heights that looked way more worse for wear than the castle behind you. It looked like this might have been a city over a thousand years ago, before the isles had fallen into this eternal darkness. But now you were the only person here, likely the only living person on this whole cursed island, at least until you got yourself back to civilization.
You picked up your pace even more as you entered a forested area, though the forest itself consisted solely of long-dead trees, their branches black and thin. What you hoped was wind howled, shaking the spindly branches, leaving you to duck and weave through them, their thorns scraping against your clothes and skin. You kept moving onward, pressing on despite the pain from the new cuts on your body, unwilling to turn back now that you had come this far.
You pushed through a difficult thicket of branches, panting from the effort as you looked down at your dress. The once-beautiful blue fabric now bore many tears, stained by your blood where the branches had cut you. You couldn’t imagine your face and hair looked any better, but you could worry about that later.
Taking in your own sorry state, you failed to take in the threat that was quickly closing in on you. You looked up from your dress, expecting to see more branches in your way, but jolted back with a gasp when you noticed the large figure standing fifteen feet or so in front of you.
The figure before you was giant, easily the width of several men, its gray flesh packed with bulk and muscle. It was bald, and wore no shirt, wearing only spiked shoulder armor on its upper half, while its lower half was covered by a large loincloth and equally-spiky leg armor.
It must have been human at some point, but it was far from that now. Its eyes were the same spectral green as the mist that hung over the island, that same green dripping out of his mouth in a drool-like fog. Its skin was tough-looking, like it was halfway between skin and rock, two large chipped horns made from craggy stone jutting out from the sides of its head. It had a manacle on each wrist; broken chains hanging from both of them. That gave you one more terrifying insight; while it was alive, it had clearly been some kind of criminal. And now it was here in front of you, unchained, its focus solely on you.
You turned to run, but the creature was faster. Its gaping maw opened wide with a horrible roar, and you were forced to grab onto a branch to try and resist the sudden pressure you felt pulling you back towards it. Looking back, you saw even the spectral mist being sucked into its sharp-toothed mouth, but you knew that you were its target, not breaking its focus as it stared you down with empty, dead eyes.
You couldn’t escape, you couldn’t even move an inch farther away from the monster’s supernatural pull. You tried to reach for a farther away branch to pull yourself to, but were forced to bring your hand back to the branch you held onto as holding on with only one hand made it much harder to keep yourself from being dragged further back.
Your fingers were hurting, the pressure pulling on you becoming more and more intense, and evidently the creature was done waiting. Not letting up on its pull, it began to move closer, and the pull got even stronger. Shaking from the effort of keeping your hold on the branch, you had no way of escaping it.
Was starving to death really a worse option than this? You had been so stupid, thinking that you had any chance of escaping this island; now this creature would ensure that you would never leave.
With a pained cry, your grip gave out at last, the branch slipping from your fingers as you fell to the ground. You tried desperately to grab at the cracked earth, but your hands could not find purchase in the ground no matter what you did as you were pulled closer and closer to the creature’s open jaw.
The closer you got to it, the weaker you felt, as if the monster was draining your very soul from your body. As the thought came to you, you realized that it was very likely to be the truth; the Shadow Isles were a place of eternal torment, it would not be out of place for this island to be filed with soul-sucking monstrosities.
You were almost within the creature’s grasp now, no more than five feet away from its razor-sharp teeth and black clawed nails. You were feeling more and more drained as it pulled you closer, your vision getting fuzzy as you tried to focus on anything other than your impending death, but it just wasn’t happening. It wasn’t like you had been expecting to see your life flash by your eyes like you had heard happened to people when they were about to die, but right now you would welcome any sight other than the one you had right now of the creature pulling you in, his eyes aglow with sinister satisfaction.
Just as a clawed hand reached down to take hold of your leg, it was sliced clean off at the elbow, stone skin clattering to the ground next to you. The creature let out a pained howl, which turned out to be the last sound it would ever make as it was then cleaved in half by a sword longer than you were tall, one you had thought you had left behind in that castle along with its wielder.
Freed from the monster’s pull, you scrambled away from its dismembered parts, wanting to be as far away from the horrible creature as possible. Shaking from your ordeal, you stared at Viego’s back, then at his face as he turned your way, letting his sword turn into mist as he caught sight of your quivering form.
You went still, afraid of the king’s wrath at your escape from his castle, but were surprised when he rushed over to you, pulling you to your feet and wrapping his arms around you.
“I thought… I thought I would lose you again,” he spoke into your hair, his words full of sorrow and pain as he held you to him.
You weren’t sure what to make of his behavior; it almost sounded to you like he was crying as he spoke, but you were reluctant to pull back and check. Instead, you reached up with sore arms and wrapped them around his waist, closing your eyes and leaning your head against his chest. A day ago you could never have imagined embracing this man, but he had saved your life, and right now you just wanted to feel safe, even if that safety came in Viego’s arms.
“Why did you save me?” you sniffled, voice muffled by his jacket, but loud enough for him to hear in the now deathly quiet forest.
Viego pulled back from the embrace with a sad exhale, his red-rimmed eyes telling you that he had indeed been crying as you had thought. Resting his forehead against your own, he stared into your eyes, brushing some stray hairs away from your face.
“I saved you because I love you,” he answered, voice quiet and hoarse. “Now tell me… why did you leave?”
“I…” You pondered how to answer his question, but decided there would be no point in lying to him, not when he hadn’t made any moves to harm you despite having good reason to be upset with you. “I was scared… and hungry.”
“…hungry?” he echoed, looking perplexed for a short moment before his green eyes went wide.
“Please forgive me, my love,” he spoke, sounding genuinely panicked. “It has been so long, I had forgotten–”
You couldn’t help yourself. “…you forgot that people need to eat food?”
“I haven’t… not since I became…” He was lost in his own world for a moment, before something seemed to come to him. “You’re…”
Without another word, he raised an arm, summoning one of his mist ghouls, who took off ahead of you, passing harmlessly through the mess of thorned branches along the forest path. You weren’t sure where it was going, but if it wasn’t after you, you found yourself lacking the strength to care about the ghoul’s mission.
Feeling drained, you leaned more of your weight into Viego, having a hard time keeping yourself upright. Viego’s eyebrows furrowed in worry as he looked down at you, but your eyelids were already drooping. You felt strong arms lift your body up as your eyes closed, head resting against cold skin. You could only hope that the creature hadn’t drained the life entirely out of you, but for now you had no consciousness left to worry about anything as you drifted off again for the third time since Viego had taken you.
“I pushed her to this…”
Waking up, your stomach was no less empty, but your head felt clearer. You had never considered yourself a lucky person, but you weren’t sure how else you could still be alive after all you had been through recently.
Your eyes didn’t want to open, not yet, but you were immediately aware of a feeling on your head. It took you a few groggy seconds to realize that it was a hand, slowly petting your hair. You had never had anyone stroke your hair before, but found it comforting; maybe your parents had done this before the fire, but the owner had never coddled you like this, even as a child. Absently, you mused that it had been a long time since you had anyone in your life that cared for you, when you were used to an existence of being merely tolerated.
Opening your eyes, you finally remembered where you were as you looked up at the man whose lap your head rested in. Viego’s hand stilled when he noticed that you were awake, but resumed petting your hair when you leaned your head into his now-gloveless hand, seeking out his comforting touch. Neither of you spoke, and you closed your eyes again, deciding to accept the comfort this moment offered you.
“…I was scared,” Viego said at last, and you opened your eyes again to look at him. “I felt that you had gone, and then I felt your terror… I thought that I had lost you again.”
You weren’t sure what to say, but it worked in your favor as Viego was not finished. “I have done awful things, committed atrocities, all to return you to my side. But I never realized that I was only thinking of myself. Your pain… it is all my fault.”
You felt overcome with the need to deny his assertion as you stared at his sad eyes, but you couldn’t. It was true. He had done terrible things and caused you pain not only in this life, but in your life as Isolde.
“I do not deserve your forgiveness,” he said, sounding like the words were hard for him to say. “But I will do anything to earn it. I…”
His voice trailed off as he removed his hand from your hair. You looked away from him and towards the same door you had exited when you had thought you had been leaving this room behind for good, as you considered his words. With those words, the power dynamic was shifting between you for the first time; he was willing to do whatever you asked of him in order for you to forgive him. And while you weren’t sure what it would mean for you to forgive him, you couldn’t allow this chance to pass you by.
“I want you to call me by my name now, not Isolde,” you said, sitting up and staring into his eyes, trying to silently communicate to him how serious you were with your stare. “And I would like some food and water.”
“Your… name,” he spoke softly, looking down at the bed sheets.
You repeated your name, and he still didn’t look up, but you weren’t quite done. If he was offering anything, you were going to see how far you could push your luck.
“…and I want to go back to Demacia.” You saw the alarm in his face and quickly made to soften the blow. “I want to tell Senna and Lucian that I’m okay. You can come with me if you want.”
“…if that is what you want,” he said eventually.
You could tell that he likely felt rejected by the stiffness of his shoulders and his refusal to look at you, but you would not back down, not when you had gotten him to agree to take you back to Demacia. You weren’t sure how Senna and Lucian would react to seeing you show up with Viego at your heels, but you knew that it was likely the only reason you had gotten him to agree to your request.
Your eyes had been wandering the room again when a soft call of your name had you turning back to face Viego, surprised that he had actually called you by your name. He was looking at you at last, but looked uncomfortable, like a fish thrown onto land.
Reaching down beside the bed, he picked up a simple stone bowl, handing it over to you. Inside, you found some circular objects that looked like oranges that were well past their prime, the orange of their rind mixed with patches of gray.
“Are those… tangor?” you asked. Demacian tangor were a mix of orange and tangerine grown all over Demacia. They were a little sour for your liking, so you hadn’t had one since you were a child.
“I had my servants fetch them. They are the only thing that grows here that will not poison you,” Viego replied.
His voice had hitched at the word poison, but you didn’t mention it, not wanting to draw attention to it. That was how Isolde had died, from a poisoned dagger. Even though you were with him now, it wasn’t like your presence erased the wounds of his past. You were just grateful that he had stopped being so domineering, at least for the moment. You weren’t sure what this was, or what you wanted this to be, but you knew that you were stuck with him at least for the foreseeable future.
Viego left the room to prepare for your journey back to Demacia, leaving you to eat in peace. The tangor were even more sour than you remembered them being, but you happily ate them, relieved to have some food at last.
With Viego gone, you allowed yourself to relax, free of his stare and his unstated expectations. He didn’t have to say it for you to know that he still wanted you to be his wife, or lover, or however it was he saw you in his mind. You hated yourself for even considering being with him in any capacity after the things he had done, but at the same time, you found yourself reluctant to fully close the door on the idea.
He had shown to you that he could do good things, even if they had only been for your benefit. You didn’t have to agree to anything right now, you reminded yourself, at least not while he wasn’t pressing the topic. But as of right now, you wanted to see if you could help Viego, even if you weren’t sure exactly how.
You stared at the bowl of tangor rinds, wishing an answer to your problems would come to you, but you knew that it wouldn’t be that easy. At least you would get to see Senna and Lucian soon; you wanted to make sure they were both okay, and you knew they were probably worried about you.
Placing the bowl back on the floor, you decided to take a look into the large closet in the corner of the room. Your own outfit was a mess; barely hanging together in places after running through the thorned branches. As much as you loved this dress, it was not in any shape to be worn. Hopefully the closet would have something passable to wear in it.
There were quite a few old-fashioned dresses, but they were too gaudy and frilly for your tastes. Sifting through the clearly upper-class clothing, you eventually came upon a dark green hooded cloak that looked out of place with all of the fancy dresses. Pulling it out, you realized that it would probably make a good disguise for Viego; Senna would likely shoot him on sight before you could explain, and you didn’t want Viego to have any reason to try and harm your friends.
Setting the cloak on the bed, you leafed through the rest of the closet, finally settling on the simplest dress you could find, a non-corseted, non-frilly purple dress with long sleeves and a scoop neckline with a hem that went to your ankles. The dress was a bit long for your liking, but it wasn’t covered in frills up to your neck, so it would have to do.
You changed into the purple dress, laying your old one on the bed, and had been running your fingers over a tear in the skirt when Viego re-entered the room. Sighing, you turned away from the dress, mentally apologizing to Senna for ruining the beautiful dress.
You waved Viego over, and he approached immediately, face stony and uncertain. Picking up the cape, you just hoped he would agree to put it on.
“So you won’t stand out in Demacia,” you said, holding the cloak out to him.
“If this is what you desire,” he answered. Though he didn’t seem to understand your concerns, he dutifully wrapped the cloak around his shoulders.
Reaching up, you fastened the clasps at the front of the cloak, trying not to feel shy being so close to his intense stare that you was pointed right at your face. You couldn’t avoid his eyes as you pulled the hood over his silver hair, careful not to let the fabric get caught on the metal bands that tied off sections of his hair into low ponytails. With the cloak fully closed, the black triangle on his chest was also no longer visible, which would definitely invite suspicion if left uncovered.
“Promise me you won’t hurt my friends,” you said, needing to hear him say it.
His glare was deadly. “If they harm you…”
“They won’t,” you replied quickly. “Haven’t you had friends before?”
That was evidently the wrong question to ask, because Viego looked like you had hit him in another sore spot, like back when you had yelled at him. Come to think of it, you didn’t remember really seeing him with anybody else when you had watched Isolde’s memories. No wonder his world had collapsed when Isolde… when your past self had died; she was his world, as sad and lonely as that was.
“How are we getting to Demacia?” you asked, figuring you should be merciful and change the subject, feeling bad as you looked up at Viego’s awkward stare.
“The mist,” he answered, and you turned your eyes to his chest where you knew the triangle of black lay hidden under the cloak you had forced him into. “It will carry us over the waters.”
You weren’t thrilled with the prospect of being surrounded by the black mist again, but the unknown waters that surrounded the Shadow Isles were even more daunting; at least you were confident that the mist would not harm you now.
You followed Viego to the cracked window, standing behind him as he opened it, revealing a clearer view of the dark, desolate isle. You were too far inland to be able to see the ocean, your view out of the window largely consisting of millennium-old rubble and patches of dark forest that must have been where you had run into that creature. You stared outside the window, wondering why he had led you here, at least until you noticed the mist that had begun to seep through Viego’s cloak.
“We’re not going to… jump?” The thought horrified you. There was no way you would survive a fall from this high up, mist or no mist.
“I will carry you in my arms,” Viego corrected you. “And then we will travel in the mist.”
You shivered as you considered his plan. “…you won’t drop me?”
You were half-joking, but Viego didn’t seem to pick up on that, one hand cupping your cheek as he stared down at you, voice deathly serious. “I will not allow any harm to come to you. Not again.”
You were once again taken aback by the intensity in his green eyes, even under the shadow of his cloak’s hood. You were still getting used to his devotion to you; it was a weird feeling having someone care about you after so many years of being without anyone who even cared enough to ask you about how your day had gone.
You weren’t sure what the owner’s fate had been, but you were confident that if he had seen you with Viego that day at the farm, he would’ve turned tail and ran, unlike Senna and Lucian, who came to your aid even when you had been a stranger to them. Maybe you should stop thinking of the farm as your home; because if you really thought about it, the only thing that tied you to the farm in the first place was your own fear of not being able to make it if you left.
You allowed Viego to take you into his arms as the mist surrounded you, pressing your face into his shoulder in order to avoid seeing just how far below you the ground was. You felt Viego move, likely exiting the window, and braced yourself for the drop that didn’t end up coming.
You could feel that you were moving, like you were in the arms of someone who was walking on solid earth, even if you knew you were walking through the sky and not the ground. You weren’t sure if the mist blocked your view of the ground entirely or not, but you were too scared to look.
“You were never this afraid of heights back then,” came Viego’s teasing voice from above you.
You doubted that Isolde had ever seen heights like this from the sky, but you welcomed his attempt at conversation, desperately needing a distraction from your growing curiosity to look away from Viego’s shoulder.
“How are you not scared?” you mumbled into his shoulder.
Viego let out a soft, sad laugh. “After what I have seen, what I have lost… there are more horrifying things in this world than heights.”
That was true; he had over a thousand years of life experience on you. Even if you had lived back then, your only memories from that time were ones you had seen flash by you when you had been exposed to Isolde’s memories. You couldn’t pretend you had experienced the hardships that he had; you had died, and he had been left behind, stuck as an undying mist wraith.
“…I’m sorry I yelled at you,” you said quietly as you listened to the sound of the wind whipping by.
“They were words I should have heard long ago,” he replied. He was silent for a long time, so long that you thought he was done talking, but then he spoke up again. “I led your life to ruin back then, and I was about to do it again.”
You let out a soft exhale against the soft material of the cloak. You couldn’t deny his words, you knew you couldn’t, but you also didn’t want to give up on him entirely. Right now, here in his arms, it really felt like all you had in this world was each other. You knew that you also had Senna and Lucian, but you didn’t have the history with them that you had with Viego. That, and while you considered them your friends, they would always be each other’s most important person; you didn’t want to admit it out loud, but you really wanted what they had, to be the most important person in the world to someone.
You both seemed content to let the conversation drop as you adjusted your face against Viego’s shoulder, the ends of his silver hair brushing against your forehead. Opening your eyes at last, you stared at his hair as it swayed with the wind. If you hadn’t seen it yourself, you would have found it hard to believe that his hair used to be a rich brown, a far cry from the silver it was now. But he wasn’t the same person he was then, both physically and mentally.
You couldn’t deny that you found him attractive; his eyes were deep-set, his jawline sharp and lips soft-looking. You immediately regretted observing his face when he looked down at you just as you were staring at his lips. You hurriedly looked away, not wanting to be caught staring. Viego did not say anything, but you could feel his eyes on you, even after you closed your own eyes again, leaning your face fully back into his cloak.
The trip to Demacia felt very long, and you had been drifting in and out of sleep, with little else to do, when you felt Viego’s feet touch down onto the ground. Opening your eyes at long last, you watched as the mist that surrounded you faded away, returning to Viego’s chest and revealing the area around you.
You were standing on a cliff, the beautiful blue waters of Demacia at your back. Demacia City stood before you in all its pearly glory, looking exactly the same as it had the last time you had been here.
It looked to be mid-afternoon, the sun shining high in the sky. It was nice to see light again instead of the dreary permanent dark of the isles.
While this was not your first time here now, you still had a difficult time figuring out the way to Lucian and Senna’s place from your current location. You looked over the paths that led into town, trying to figure out if any of them seemed familiar, finally settling on a small stone path that led along the coast. You remembered that their house had been close to the coast, so you hoped that you would eventually find it if you kept on the path.
You turned back to Viego, making sure his hood was down over his head before you two set off on the path. The last thing you needed was for anyone to notice Viego before you got to your destination; you were just lucky he had let you put the cloak on him or else you’d be much more worried about your chances of going unnoticed.
Viego walked at your side, sticking fairly close to you, eyes casually but tactically scanning the area as if searching for threats. There were some people milling about the area, but not many, and none that looked like a threat to you, not unless Viego threatened them first.
“Your… friends,” Viego spoke up, sounding as if the word itself was foreign to him. “Are you certain they will not welcome me with weapons drawn?”
You frowned. “I hope not.”
“They would not be the first,” he sneered bitterly.
“Viego.” You grabbed onto his arm and he looked down at you, staring first at your hand on his arm and then up to your face. “I will make sure they won’t attack you, but you have to be nice as well. No mist, and no giant sword.”
You felt like you were lecturing a child, but hoped Viego wouldn’t feel like you were treating him like one. You swallowed nervously as you stared at him, pleading with your eyes for him to agree to play nice with Lucian and Senna.
His eyes seemed to soften as he stared at you. “I can deny you nothing.”
“Thank you,” you replied happily, letting out a small noise of recognition as you spotted the building that you were looking for in the distance.
Leading Viego over, you signalled for him to wait behind you. He half-obeyed, but stood much closer than you had meant. You let it go, knowing you weren’t likely going to be able to convince him to leave your side, instead knocking on the door.
The wards that you and Senna had set up still lay scattered around the outside of the building, the lack of glow about them telling you that they weren’t activated. You knocked again after no response, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you waited. Just as you were about to knock a third time, you heard movement from inside at last, stepping back slightly as you waited for the door to open. You felt Viego tense up behind you, but had to focus on the door in front of you as it opened to reveal a frantic Lucian.
He called your name with relief in his voice until he noticed the figure behind you, his features turning grave instantly.
You raised your hands up in front of you, desperate to stop the incoming fight. “Lucian, wait! He’s not here to hurt anyone!”
Lucian looked very skeptical, but paused his hands reaching down to his guns. “Y’know, I can probably activate those wards from here.”
“It’s fine,” you replied, relieved by the joking tone in his voice. “Can we come in?”
Lucian sighed, stepping away from the door to allow you both to enter. “Senna’s not gonna be happy when she gets back.”
“She’s not here?” you clarified.
“Nah,” he answered. “She went out earlier to get some supplies for, uh, findin’ you…”
“…oh,” you replied guiltily.
Lucian led you down the hall and into the large chamber that you had been in when Viego had ultimately captured you. But now there was no mist filling the room, and no weapons drawn, at least not for now.
Lucian stood awkwardly in front of you, picking at invisible lint on his jacket while you looked between him and Viego, who had taken off his hood when you had entered the room.
Nobody was saying anything until Lucian finally broke the oppressive silence. “So how have you been?”
“Good,” you said, desperate to latch onto Lucian’s attempt at conversation.
“Dead,” Viego answered at the same time.
You and Lucian stared at each other for a short moment before you were interrupted by the sound of the door opening down the hallway. Lucian sprang into action immediately, quickly dashing into the hall, likely to warn Senna about what she was walking into.
Once Lucian’s figure was out of sight, you turned to Viego, knowing you had to keep him calm.
“Please don’t hurt her, Viego,” you pleased. “She doesn’t–”
You were cut off by a loud exclamation from the hallway.
“He’s where?! Lucian, get out of my way!” came Senna’s enraged voice from the hall.
You heard rapid footfalls coming your way, Viego stepping in front of you before you could think to stop him as Senna entered the room.
“You–”
You began to panic when you saw dark mist trickling from the front of Viego’s cloak as Senna stormed towards the two of you.
“I won’t let her harm you,” Viego hissed quietly.
“She won’t hurt me,” you insisted quickly, grabbing onto his arm.
You stepped in front of Viego as Senna came over to you and quickly had your wrist snatched by Senna, who pulled you behind her.
Viego stepped forward, but Senna wasn’t having it, pinning him with a fierce glare. “You can stay there, ruined king. You’re lucky you’re still breathing in my home after what you’ve done.”
Viego didn’t look happy at her words, but kept his eyes on yours as you desperately shook your head at him, pleading silently for him to back down. You stared into his green eyes, hoping he would listen to you, and slowly, he backed down, fists unclenching but face still tense. You let out a quiet exhale, relieved that he had listened to you, although a glance at Senna told you that she was no less angry.
Lucian slowly stepped forward with an overly friendly smile on his face. “How about we have a conversation while the ladies talk?”
Viego stared at Lucian, face blank, but Senna didn’t hesitate, pulling you with her to the other side of the chamber and out of earshot of the boys. Once she had felt you were far enough away from them, she stopped, letting go of your wrist and pulling you into a short hug.
“You had us so worried,” she scolded, pulling back from the hug.
“I’m sorry,” you said, guilt pooling in your stomach.
Senna sent you a hard look. “Why would you do something so dangerous?”
You bit your lip as you thought back to that moment. “It was the only thing I could think to do. I couldn’t let you and Lucian get hurt.”
Senna let out an amused breath, shaking her head. “I can’t say I didn’t appreciate what you did, but it was stupid.”
“I know,” you agreed. “I thought I was going to die.”
“But you didn’t,” Senna countered. “Though I can’t say I understand why. What did you do to tame him like this?”
“I, uh…” It felt weird to say out loud, but you had no other explanation that made any sense. “I called him selfish.”
Senna stared at you for a second, and just as you were starting to think that she didn’t believe you, she surprised you by bursting out in laughter. She took at least a minute to calm down, and you just stared at her in confusion, not sure what you had said that was funny.
“Well that’s been a long time coming,” she said at last, before noticing you staring at her in shock and shrugging. “Never thought I would see the day.”
“I may have been a bit mean,” you admitted, voice dropping to a whisper. “I told him he should have let Isolde stay dead.”
Senna’s eyebrows raised in surprise before she let out another small huff of laughter, glancing briefly over at Viego. “Can’t say he didn’t deserve it. Probably deserved worse.”
“It was just… after seeing how he treated Isolde for so long… I couldn’t stop myself,” you said.
Senna nodded. “I’ve thought the same things myself, but the difference is Viego actually seems to listen to you.”
“Yeah, it’s weird,” you replied, sneaking a quick glance at Viego, only to find him already looking your way. You looked back to Senna, feeling awkward locking eyes with Viego like this in front of Senna. “I was so mad at him, but now I’m just confused about what I want.”
Senna didn’t reply, merely raising an eyebrow as a prompt for you to explain. You swallowed nervously, resisting the urge to look back at Viego as you explained your thoughts. You told Senna about Viego fleeing the room, about escaping the castle and running into the soul-sucking monster, and then Viego coming to your rescue.
“At first, I just thought he was scary, but after that… I don’t know. After going most of my life without anybody who cared about me, I…”
“…you want to give him a chance?” Senna finished for you, her voice frustratingly neutral, not giving you any insights on how she was feeling, but it wasn’t as if she was off the mark. You didn’t want to lie to her, so you nodded, unable to help but feel like you were letting her down.
Senna sighed a slow sigh, but didn’t look angry. “So have you told him?”
“Told him?” you echoed.
Senna rolled her eyes at you. “Told him that you want to be with him?”
You averted your eyes, staring at the stone floor. “…no.”
“He won’t know unless you tell him. Men aren’t always great with that kind of stuff,” Senna joked. “I had to spell it out for Lucian, and he’s one of the smart ones.”
“Right,” you agreed. She was right; you couldn’t just hope that Viego would somehow understand what you were thinking, though the thought of opening yourself up to him like that made you nervous.
“We have a smaller place just outside the city for when we need to lay low,” Senna said, fishing a key out of her pocket and handing it to you. “It should have enough supplies to sustain you while you figure things out with him.”
“Thank you,” you replied, stunned by her generosity.
“Come back and see us when you’ve got things sorted,” she replied with a smile. “And make him earn your forgiveness. If he does anything, just let me know and I’ll make him regret it.”
“I will,” you promised with a smile. You really didn’t deserve a friend as good as Senna.
Senna seemed happy with your response. “Then let’s go and save Lucian. He never was great at making small talk.”
You both turned your attention back to the two men across the room and their conversation.
“…so the mist, does it come from inside you or something?”
“The mist flows from my black heart,” Viego answered in a monotone.
“Oh, uh–”
Lucian was saved by Senna’s approach. “Alright boys, we’re done.”
You stifled a laugh at Lucian’s obvious relief at being rescued from his attempted conversation with Viego. Viego, on the other hand, seemed to forget Lucian existed the moment you came close, which was both flattering and embarrassing.
“How about you come with me to return the armor I bought and we pick up some sugar rolls on the way back?” Senna proposed to Lucian.
“Huh? But–” Lucian looked tempted by the offer, but looked back at you with a concerned frown.
“They’re fine,” Senna insisted. “They have somewhere to be anyways. I’ll explain it to you on the way.”
Lucian finally relented, allowing Senna to drag him towards the front door. But before they got too far, Senna turned her head back to you.
“Keep down the road for about an hour. It’s the one with a sun on the front door.”
You nodded and Senna wished you luck before pulling a still-confused Lucian with her out the front door. You really owed her; you would have to try and make it up to her and Lucian after you sorted things out with Viego.
Once they had left, you turned your attention back to Viego, knowing you had to have this conversation with him whether you wanted to or not.
“I was talking to Senna about what I want… with you,” you said, cursing yourself internally for how shaky your voice sounded.
Viego looked like he had been forced to swallow a Shadow Isles tangor, his posture rigid. “Now that I see how happy you are here with those two… I know that you were never truly happy being at my side.”
You were shocked speechless, the words you wanted to say fleeing your mind, your lack of a reply prompting Viego to continue.
“The Shadow Isles is a place for monsters like me. I won’t make you return there with me,” he said, sending you a sad smile before his body began to turn to mist, starting with his legs.
“No!” you cried out, grabbing his arm. You hadn’t expected him to let you go, but you found yourself not wanting him to leave you, even though that was all you had wanted only a week ago.
The moment you touched him, he turned fully solid again, looking down at you with furrowed silver eyebrows, uncertainty plain on his face.
“Don’t leave,” your voice came out quiet and weak, but you kept your hold on his sleeve. “Please don’t leave.”
You were trying not to cry, and it must have been obvious, as Viego quickly brought you into an embrace. Being alone with him again, you finally felt like you could say what you wanted to say, even if you were partially fueled by desperation to make him stay.
“I want you to stay in Demacia with me,” you said, pulling back to look at him, placing a hand on his cheek like he had done to you so many times. Viego seemed mesmerized by the contact, leaning into your palm as he stared at you with hopeful eyes.
“I will go wherever you are,” he replied softly.
“But,” you said, steeling your nerve. “I want you to see me as me, not the me I was when I was Isolde.”
You felt relieved that you had finally gotten out what you wanted to say, but were nervous at how he would take it.
“You are much stronger now than you ever were a thousand years ago,” he replied. “No matter what form you take, you are still my only love.”
You couldn’t help yourself. “Even if I was reborn as a sheep?”
“I would become a sheep myself if I had to,” he responded, and you giggled at both the seriousness in his voice and the mental image of Viego as a sheep.
Staring up at Viego, who seemed puzzled by your laughter, you were struck by just how much your opinion of him had changed since you had watched Isolde’s thousand-year-old memories. It was hard to believe that you could feel like this about someone who had brought you such sadness in the past, but as you stared at Viego’s handsome face, all you could think about was how much you wanted to kiss him.
But Senna had given you the key for a reason, and you didn’t want to trouble them by still being here when they returned, so you decided to be brave like Senna, taking one of Viego’s hands in yours and pulling him towards the front door. Viego’s hand was cold in yours, but his fingers held tight to yours. You found yourself wondering what kind of look Viego had on his face, but you were too nervous to look back at him until you got outside, taking the walk down the hallway to gather up all of your courage before turning back to him.
“Senna gave me–”
You were cut off by a gentle tug on your hand by Viego, pulling you back to him. Faster than you could comprehend, his other arm wrapped around your back, pulling you against him as he leaned down to kiss you.
You were shocked, Viego’s arm behind you being the only thing keeping you upright as his lips pressed against your own. You closed your eyes, hoping your inexperience wasn’t too obvious as you tentatively tried to kiss back, wishing your face would stop burning so hot; there was no way he wouldn’t notice the heat in your face, not with how cold he always was. Just as you were getting worried that you were too stiff, Viego pulled away, touching his forehead to yours.
He looked too pleased with himself, his jade eyes glowing with the same mischievous aura as the smirk he now wore on his lips. “You were saying something, my love?”
You sputtered, face red, trying to catch your thoughts. You hadn’t been expecting the kiss, and had also never kissed anyone before, so your brain was struggling to work again as you stared at Viego’s sly grin.
Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath and forced yourself to focus. Right, the key.
“Senna gave me the key to a place of theirs we can stay in,” you explained. “It’s about an hour’s walk out of the city.”
Viego raised an eyebrow. “It would take much less time to travel there with the mist.”
“No!” you exclaimed hurriedly, noting the few people who were still out since it was only early evening. Your face only flushed more as you realized he had kissed you in front of other people, even if it was only a few. Noticing two women staring at you and Viego, you quickly pulled his hood back down over his head from where it had fallen askew, taking his hand again and pulling him with you in the direction Senna had indicated.
“People are already staring… if you use the mist, they might call the Demacian guard!” you explained as you pulled him with you down the road.
“They can try,” Viego scoffed. “No power in this world will take you from me again.”
You sped up your pace, desperately hoping the two women hadn’t heard Viego’s not-so-veiled threats against the Demacian guard as you pulled him along with you. While you didn’t doubt that Viego was likely strong enough to take on the whole of the Demacian military, it was a confrontation that you desperately wanted to avoid.
For his part, Viego didn’t seem bothered by your increased pace down the path; rather, he seemed to be in too much of a good mood for someone who had just threatened to take on a kingdom’s entire military force. Part of you wondered if he was just talking like that to keep you holding his hand to pull him along, but the notion was too embarrassing to possibly be true, so you dismissed it from your mind, choosing instead to focus on the scenery around you as you walked.
The path out of town was not too different from the roads you had walked back in your hometown. Once you were out of Demacia City, the path of finely-cobbled stone became a simple dirt path lined occasionally with simple houses on either side. The people who lived just outside the city didn’t seem to conform to the fanciful beauty standards of the city, instead dressing more like the people you had known back in the Demacian farmlands. Seeing the more ordinary people go about their lives brought you comfort; as nice as Demacia City was, you had a hard time feeling like you really belonged among its finery.
“I have never seen how the peasants live,” Viego commented from your side, the lightness in his voice making you feel like he didn’t quite get that most people took the word peasant as an insult. “They look happy.”
“I’m a peasant too,” you mused. “I lived on that farm most of my life.”
Rather than looking displeased, as you secretly feared he might, Viego let out a quiet hum. “I cannot help but wonder, if we were both peasants back in Camavor… could we have lived happier lives?”
“Viego…” You looked over at him to see him gazing sadly your way, and for a second you could have sworn you saw the Viego of his youth when you looked at him, tan skin and rich brown hair instead of the pale, silver-haired man you had come to know in this lifetime.
“I led us to ruin, and I almost lost your beautiful smile for good,” he added with downcast eyes. “I will not allow myself to be so foolish again.”
While you were trying to think of a response to his words, your eyes caught sight of a small house in the distance, a golden yellow sun painted on its front door. The house itself was fairly isolated; the last house you had passed had been a while back, and you couldn’t see any other houses in the distance ahead.
It was a relief; while you were still feeling awkward around Viego after that kiss, you knew it was better for everyone for Viego to not be around anyone but you for now. You pulled out the key Senna had given you, overly conscious of Viego at your back, fumbling a few times before getting the key slotted in correctly and unlocking the door.
Stepping inside, you were surprised to see how well-furnished the place was, despite it just being an out of town hideout for Senna and Lucian. The home consisted of a combined kitchen and entryway area with a simple bathroom down the short hallway. Opening the last door, you found a small bedroom containing no more than a bed and a small chest of drawers.
As you were looking over the room, you were surprised by Viego’s arms circling your waist, his chin resting against the side of your head.
“I have missed this dearly,” Viego’s low voice in your ear sent a noticeable shiver down your spine, which he definitely noticed. “It has been over a thousand years since I have felt your body against mine.”
His tone was sultry, and accompanied by a gentle nip at your ear, your cheeks were feeling incredibly warm. You had to assume that you had been with Viego like this, back a thousand years ago. But you hadn’t seen any of Isolde’s more suggestive memories, so you had no idea of what to expect from Viego. That, and you were as inexperienced as they came; it wasn’t like there were many boys around your age in your small town for you to do anything with. You were nervous, but glad it was Viego, and not someone like the owner’s brother who always hit on you whenever he visited the farm.
Viego withdrew from you, a metallic clang sounding out in the small room as he released the clasp on his cloak, allowing it to slide off his shoulders and hit the floor. Chancing a look back over your shoulder, you made eye contact with a once-again shirtless Viego, the black triangle on his chest bared once again.
Approaching you again, he took hold of your wrist, bringing your palm to lay against the spectral-green lined dark triangle in the center of his chest. You inhaled sharply, surprised when your hand was not swallowed by mist or sucked into the black void, but instead pressed against the triangle of black as if it were normal skin.
“The mark you gave me,” Viego said, voice surprisingly soft for someone talking about the wound that had ended their mortal life. “The mist is a part of me, so it will never harm you.”
“It feels warm,” you murmured. How could it feel so warm when the rest of his body was so cold?
“Only ever to you,” he replied, leaning down to kiss you again.
It was a short kiss, Viego giving you several short pecks as he slowly backed you up to the bed. He pulled away as the back of your knees hit the bed, and you opened your eyes as you caught your breath, only to see Viego with a wicked smirk on his face. Before you could question him, you were sent backwards onto the bed with a yelp as a rush of mist from Viego’s chest blew over you.
You found yourself on your back, the sheets a lot softer under you than you had expected. Realizing that the mist had left you feeling a lot colder than you had expected as well, you let out an embarrassed squeak when you discovered that the mist had somehow done away with your clothing, leaving you completely naked against the sheets.
The mist faded as quickly as it had appeared, revealing Viego at the foot of the bed in nothing but his tight black pants, which were noticeably tighter at the front. His gaze was smouldering as he took in your now-fully-revealed form, and while you were overtaken with the desire to shy away, but you were not given a chance as Viego quickly joined you on the bed.
He gently cupped your breasts in his hands, thumbs rubbing against your nipples, the cold of his fingers only heightening the jolt of pleasure that heated your face. Viego stared down at you, looking awestruck, strands of his silver hair falling over one of his eyes. He was so handsome that it was hard for you to believe this was real as you looked up at him, fighting the urge to run your hands through his hair as you let out a soft moan.
“You make it hard to focus when you sound like that,” Viego admitted as he leaned down. “It has been too long since I have heard your sweet voice moan.”
Crawling over you, Viego tilted your chin up with a hand on your cheek, allowing him to lock your lips together again. Unlike the previous kisses, this kiss was heated and intense, your tongue meeting his as his other hand laid next to your head, supporting his body closely above yours.
His body caging yours in should have felt cold with how frigid his skin was in unlife, but all you could feel was warmth as Viego kissed you like his life depended on it. Deciding to act on your earlier thoughts, you slid your hands into Viego’s soft hair, your nails running along his scalp. Viego groaned into your mouth, hips rutting into yours, letting you feel just how hard he was under his leather pants.
Viego’s hand strayed lower, your back bowing slightly off the bed when he began to move his thumb over your clit. He continued the passionate kiss as he kept up with the movements on your clit, the sensations making it hard for you to concentrate on the kiss. Finally, the pleasure got so intense that you jerked back against the pillow with a breathy moan, your face flushed with heat.
Viego pulled back from you entirely, spreading your legs and grasping your thighs, pulling your legs over his shoulders. Startled, you realized what he intended to do, staring at him with wide eyes.
“You don’t have to…” you trailed off, fingers grasping the sheets at your side as you stared at him.
Viego’s mouth turned up in a sly grin, looking up at you with his mouth inches away from your naked pussy. “There is nothing I want more in this world right now than to hear you cry out for me, my love.”
Before you could reply, Viego surged forward, tongue licking against your clit while his fingers pressed inside you. He seemed energized by the noises you made, fingers moving faster against you as you closed your eyes, moaning his name as his tongue brushed against you at a spot that had you seeing stars beyond your eyelids.
He was relentless, determined to get you to reach your peak, not slowing down until you cried out his name, nails raking against the sheets as you came.
Viego withdrew, looking very proud of himself as he stared down at your wrecked form. You laid flat against the bed, panting as you tried to catch your breath. As you took in Viego’s disheveled hair and satisfied smile, you let out a soft exhale, still not fully understanding how he was able to make you feel so comfortable with him after all that you had been through. Or maybe it had been because of everything you had been through together, the thousand years you had been apart and the short time you had been together again.
He didn’t make any moves to remove his pants, despite the fact that they looked painfully tight by this point. You stared at him from under your lashes, not knowing what to say as you slowly came down form the high of pleasure he had given you.
“Your form has never been more beautiful,” Viego said, leaning down to kiss you. “Now if only your lips were as honest as your eyes.”
“What?”
“Your eyes are telling me what you want me to do to you,” he murmured into your ear, voice low and sultry. “And I cannot find it in me to deny my queen what she desires.”
Viego sat up as mist flew from his chest, sweeping over his lower half and turning his pants to mist before dissipating entirely, leaving him just as naked as you. His cock was just as pale as the rest of his body, but clearly was still functioning just fine; in fact, you were slightly worried about the sheer size of him.
Viego took his place between your legs, his cock so close to where you wanted it. He took himself in hand, slowly lining himself up with you, looking down at you appraisingly before his cock was sinking into you.
You let out a soft sigh as you felt the stretch of his cock, surprised that it was nowhere near as painful as you had imagined. Once he was fully inside you, he leaned down, caging you in with his arms as he began to roll his hips into yours.
Sliding a hand into his hair, Viego happily allowed you to pull his lips back to yours, groaning into your mouth when you clenched around him after his cock hit a particularly sensitive spot inside you. While you had struggled to focus amidst the pleasure you were feeling, Viego had no such problem, easily able to kiss you breathless while maintaining a slow and gentle pace with his hips.
But as you continued to move against each other, slow and gentle began to be too little for you. You pulled back from Viego’s lips with a whine, looking at him with pleasure-hazed vision as he continued to move against you.
“Viego… faster, please,” you whined, watching him swallow as you spoke.
With a deep groan, Viego picked up his pace, each thrust of his cock hitting exactly where you needed it. Viego seemed to be as lost in the feeling as you were, eventually trading speed for increased intensity as you clung to his biceps.
Viego came first, slowing with a groan, but kissed you hard, rubbing at your clit until you joined him over the edge, feeling your energy drain from you as Viego pulled out of you before pulling your body to his, wrapping his arm around you.
“My heart, my body… they have only ever belonged to you,” Viego spoke, his words sending fondness blossoming in your chest.
Closing your eyes, you leaned against his chest, feeling happy but drained, at least until the reality of where you were came rushing back to you. You were in Senna’s house… in Senna’s bed. What had you been thinking?!
Noticing your panic, Viego lifted your chin, tilting your face up towards him with an eyebrow raised, quizzically speaking your name.
“Senna’s going to kill me,” you groaned in embarrassment.
“What?” Viego hissed, voice flat and dangerous, some mist tricking from his chest.
“No!” you exclaimed, placing your hands over his chest in a futile effort to keep the dark mist in. In your embarrassment, you had forgotten about Viego’s tendency to react against any threats directed towards you. “I just meant she would be upset with me for…. getting intimate… in her bed.”
Your words didn’t particularly seem to ease the severity of Viego’s misinterpretation of your words, but that would have to something to work on over time. With how harsh his life had been for so long, you shouldn’t have been surprised that hyperbole was largely lost on him. For now, all you could think of to do was distract him, quickly pulling his lips down to yours to hope you could make him forget about his current dangerous intentions, at least for the moment.
#x reader#reader insert#league of legends#league of legends viego#viego#lol x reader#league of legends x reader
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I need to share soft sign language buddies ninogami headcanon because they’re taking over my brain always:
(This got so long, so youre welcome if youre also starved for ninogami content)
Nino’s mom is Deaf , so he grew up signing as much as speaking. When he was younger he always signed as he talked.
It turned out he’s also Hard of Hearing, so sign language is way easier for him to understand most of the time.
However, though he’s great at making friends, he’s very awkward when it comes to talking about himself. So never comes up in conversation.
It’s not a self-deprication issue. It’s just a “thinking of things to say is hard and I’d rather have someone else do the talking” thing. He’d rather talk about anyone except himself.
Additionally! He’s great at helping other people, but he’s terrible at asking for help. He does not EVER want to be like “hey i cant understand what you’re saying, my ears dont work great,” its his worst nightmare
And it doesnt help that there have been a few cases of people being rude about it when he doesnt hear them after they repeat themselves. And possibly worse, there have been even more cases of people giving over-the-top apologies instead of just,, telling him what they said. So it’s not worth the trouble in his mind
with his few close friends who still dont know, it feels like its too late and it’d be awkward to bring it up, so he just… doesnt. He’s procrastinating on telling them he cant hear them
He stopped signing as much as he talked in middle school because strangers would always be like “woah thats so cool, how do you know sign language” and he’d just panic because he was an awkward tween, and he didnt know if he was comfortable telling them he was HoH, but ALSO just saying his mom was Deaf and not mentioning himself felt like directly lying by hiding information, so he just took the “lazy” way out and signed less in public.
Sometimes fighting the anxiety was not worth it so he just let it win in that case.
Nino is so nice and energetic and loves people, but he is way more introverted and anxious than his friends think.
But when they start to get closer, Kagami who is ever-observant, notices him signing a little bit, (not ever to her, not ever on purpose, but he’d sometimes sign a word he needed to remember while speaking or sign along to emphasize something)
and she luckily for his anxiety, she doesnt know how to have a normal conversation either.
Her (platonic as well as romantic) love language is studying and research, and Nino seems very cool and she likes him, even if she is awful at holding a conversation with him or doing anything to show it.
She thinks he’s so cool and such an amazing talented kind friend. She has so much love for him that she doesnt know what to do with it. So she channels that energy into learning to sign through the internet and whatever tools she can find
And then after a while of this, she’s like “oh no, he’s gonna think that’s so creepy, I cant tell him I know sign language or he’ll be so uncomfortable”
So, like a whole idiot, she hides that she’s learning sign language from anyone. Because OBVIOUSLY if word got back to Nino, he’d assume it was because of him and that she was a weirdo he shouldn’t be friends with
But also Kagami accidentally falls in love with sign language because she has undiagnosed autism. She always assumed that communicating was just going to be impossible no matter what, but as she gets proficient in sign language she’s like,,, oh,,, OH,, this is very nice
Even just signing while she talks makes it so much easier to keep words and sentances straight, but she only does it when she’s alone with her mother, who is literally blind and would never know.
They become closer friends in late high school, and by that time a lot of Nino’s anxiety has worn off and he’s become completely comfortable letting teachers know when he needs to hear somthing, and middle school feels like a distant dream
At some point, Nino invites Kagami to his house a few times, and he signs with his mom. Nino is like “I can interpret for you,” and Kagami is like “wow thanks, I’m so lucky, because I obviously do not know any sign language, why would I have learned it, and also for the record it is brand new information to me that you can sign,” and Nino is like “cool? Its not a secret but im glad i told you if you somehow didnt already know,” and Kagami is like, “yep :)”
But then eventually as they become really close, they are texting one night, (Kagami can still barely get out of her house, so they need to communicate remotely. And both of then HATE phone calls bc its so hard to understand whats happening, but neither of them have admitted this to anyone)
Nino admits that he likes using sign language better than talking, and he wishes he could use it with his friends, but he’d feel so guilty asking them to learn an entire language just to make him slightly more comfortable. He can talk and hear OKAY so he shouldnt put the pressure on them.
and Kagami is like “you could always ask, worst case scenerio they say no, and i dont think thats an unreasonable demand” and nino is like “it is though,” and kagami’s like “ok so haha funny story, please dont hate me” and nino is like, “…what.” And kagami confesses everything and nino is like “why… why would i hate you for that?” And Kagami is like “oh wait youre right im stupid,”
And then Nino’s also like “hey if YOURE more comfortable signing too, then why dont YOU ask your friends to sign for you. Do you see what i mean? It’s hard to ask-” and kagami is like, “as your friend i will prove it is not.”
So then Kagami ends up confronting Adrien and Marinette the next day and is like “Hi. This is a sign language dictionary. Learn from it.” And they’re both like “what?” And she’s like “oh wait sorry. Backing up. I’m autistic. I decided like three years ago. Forgot to tell you. And I need you to learn to sign a little bit so you can understand if i sign something at you. If you want, of course. Please :D.” And theyre like “ok sure yeah i can do that.”
(Theyve already learned and accepted that shes extremely direct in asking for things)
So then she texts nino and is like “i did it. Youre welcome.”
But anyway both of them are uncomfortable in crowds and parties: Nino cant hear anyone and Kagami tends to get sensory overload, so they start signing mostly in those situations, and then it starts to sink in that they’re allowed to sign whenever and that the other really IS also comfortable with it.
(Both of them are much more willing to make sacrifices for others than to try something new and intimidating for themself, so this is the perfect situation to trick them into getting out of their comfort zone, ironically by trying to be more comfortable in the long run)
so they will just sit together and hang out and have long conversations while just chilling somewhere in a park or at cafes or whatever. Both of them become chattier than they’ve ever been because talking and understanding is so much easier, and its addicting
And their close friends all become proficient enough in sign language to have simple conversations.
But also Nino and Kagami start sitting together automatically even in group hangouts, and they start hanging out more with just the two of them, and soon neither of them feel bad about asking to hang out in quieter places, because they can justify it knowing that it will also help the other one, and together that makes both of them also more comfortable asking for little accomodations from other friends, if only to prove to the other that they can do it too.
And Kagami has the lesser-known autism side effect where she makes WAY TOO MUCH eye contact. She’s aware of it but that doesnt make it go away. Normally she feels so awkward about it, and overthinks her gaze because she doesnt want to scare people away. But when signing, you literally HAVE to be watching the other person constantly, so she has an excuse to just be herself, and its so relieving
(and also its kind of fun to look at Nino anyway because he can get so animated and his smile is really nice and oh no she is in love a little bit)
And Nino always struggles because he emotionally ALWAYS needs to be the nice polite one. His anxiety sometimes gets the better of him and he’s constantly worried about sending the wrong signals to his friends and coming off as rude somehow. But with Kagami, he can literally just ask?? And she will tell him her honest opinion without making it weird. And its so comfy and so good and he really loves hearing her unfiltered opinions on so many things because she sees the world in such a unique way and she gets so passionate about such little things and then oh no, he is fallen for her before he can realize it
And they also learn that they’re both artists, they both love to just observe the world because even if they;re awkward, people are actually pretty great most of the time, and its fun to observe them and try to capture the world, and they just sit together and sketch, or they watch each other sketch, and the thing is, both of them draw ONLY FOR THEMSELVES, its not a ‘skill,’ and they don;t want it to be, its just private art for relaxation. Somehow, though, its okay if they share their art with each other. They can just sit in comfortable silence for hours while one of them sketches something and the other watches patiently
And they start to get more comfortable with one of their heads resting on the other’s shoulder as they watch them doodle, and sitting so close their legs press together, and soon enough their hands start brushing against each other’s as they walk next to each other and then all of a sudden they’re casually holding hands whenever they’re not signing because it’s nice
They try to share headphones so Nino can share some of his favorite songs and his compositions with Kagami. But try as she might, Kagami can not handle the sensory of only having one earbud in. Nino knows her tells by that point, and he’s not about to let her suffer for a stupid reason, but she REALLY does want to hear his music. They somehow end up with Kagami putting a pair of headphones around her neck and turning up the volume a little bit so she can hear, while Nino rests his head on her shoulder so he can hear just enough to know where she is in the song
And then he has to sit up and scootch away just enough to see her hands so they can talk about it, and they both pretend not to notice how nice it was to snuggle as they sign. Its fine, though, because now they get the excuse to just look at each other again and sign overdramatically with exaggerated facial expressions, and no one else around can overhear their conversation, and Nino likes to go a little over the top when signing onomatopoeia and acting out particular parts of the song rhythm that he likes, and Kagami laughs, and they both mentally save the image of each other in this moment the same way that they look at reference images for artwork, memorizing the lines of each movement and the things that make each smile unique,
and Nino also shows up at every single one of her fencing tournaments, and he sits as close as he can and signs encouraging messages to her from the crowd whenever she’s not actively competing, (that her blind mom can never catch, which is somewhat of a bonus to Kagami, because every element of their friendship that her mother cant interact with makes this more personal and special and HERS). Every little sign she sends back at him, even a simple thank you, always feels so good and rebellious and free because shes supposed to be focusing on fencing but shes deciding to care more about friendship. And even if she’s expected to leave immediately afterword, she’ll find every excuse possible to find him and give him a hug, which he’ll always accept even though she jokingly warns him shes sweaty and gross
And eventually they are special best friends and it brings them instant joy to see each other and theyre able to interact for no reason other than that they want to and like each other
(And then they kiss)
#ninogami#ninami#nino lahiffe#kagami tsurugi#miraculous ladybug#ml#fic tag#dont want to tag this with the other ship because the tumblr algorithm is weird#and i dont want it going in the tag because theres no content for that ship and this directly opposes it#but i respect nino and alyas relationship so much they are so good and perfect#but im also terminally a multishipper#and ninogami is so darn precious too i love them#i just try not think about the circumstances with alya in this shup#ship#just imagine she and nino are still close bros and alya is dating marinette or adrien or whoever else you want
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This fic idea haunts me:
So Damian canonically dies and is brought back to life with a chaos shard, and this process grants him some powerful abilities before he uses them up in a fight orchestrated by Bruce/the JL (from what I understood, Bruce was concerned Damian wasn't able to control them and his ego combined with the new powers was concerning, so he staged a mecha fight to have Damian save the JL and the mech was just powerful enough to require everything Damian had to give). This was a very entertaining plot as a reader, but a pretty horrifying and manipulative way of dealing with Damian.
This got me thinking; if I was Damian and had just been revived and developed powers and my father had manipulated me into losing them, I'd be angry but more than that I don't know if I'd trust any of the adults in my life if they were willing to completely lie their way through a plot to take away a new advantage (one that allowed me to literally fly and be on par strengthwise with my best bro Superboy) that I'd gained after having died because I was too slow. A death that happened as a result of being betrayed by my own mother and my aged-up clone. I decided to give my all to save the adults in my life at the cost of my powers (powers that might protect me the next time my mother decided I was less than useful to her schemes yet again) only to realize the entire fight was staged. I was lied to. The gratitude I received from the big three, two of which are father figures and one of the most powerful women in the world, a family friend, all decided to lie to my face and manipulate me.
This, on the tail end of my very traumatic revival where my father and a lot my my family almost died trying to bring me back. Everyone was so relieved I'd survived that they forgot to help me cope with the fact that I still died. In my teens. After a year in the ground, most people had processed my death but i felt like i had just died and seemingly woken up with my father stabbing me in the same place my clone brother had impaled me mere moments ago.
I could definitely see the trauma and betrayal and non-existent coping skills driving a wedge even further between my family and I and dissolving any bonds of trust I had with the outside adults in my life. Driven mad with nightmares and the uncanny feeling that you're behind the times and life is moving too fast to heal from, I'd definitely decide to do something rash.
Maybe even move to Tibet rash.
What's interesting is that in one of the storylines, Damian goes and learns from a Buddhist monastery at one point. What if, Damian does this after losing all trust in his support network and decides the best way to protect himself is by leaving.
Here's where The crossover happens. I'm getting tired so I'm switching to bullet points:
Damian moves to Tibet
He finds his way into the mountains on a soul searching journey and stumbles upon the Temple of the Miraculous
The kwami here have free reign and more direct action abilities, which, in this case, means they can turn into animals and act as independent guardians when their miraculous are not in use
Marinette had had longer to train with the kwami and is not the direct grand guardian, she's just a guardian in training with a true Ladybug soul
Marinette portals back and forth from Paris to Tibet with Kaalki and on one of her visits meets Damian
Hawkmoth is still at large but Marinette had more backup this time around
Dami and Mari kick it off
Damian wants to help Marinette and ends up joining in guardian training
Idk if he's a true cat soul or not, but they aren't soulmates in that sense of the word, he just matches Marinette and can tell he could grow to love her
Again growing tired, but eventually, through meeting and helping each other (Mari with tactics, Dami with healing) they fall for each other
Damian starts a new life with Mari and ends up being a full guardian
Unclear if Damian would forgive his family in this one
Damian may or may not have been involved in Hawkmoth's defeat but he definitely keeps Mari stable and Plagg in a good mood
Idk this idea refuses to write itself even though it's already written in my head. Good luck me. I have some written out but I've been hesitant to post about it as transitions have been very hard for this one.
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How to Play as Link in DnD 5e (2.0)
With the release of both Mythic Odysseys of Theros and now the new big expansion in Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything, I figured now would be a good time to reexamine Link with the context of new subclasses, class features, and game mechanics that weren’t around the last time that I built him. While I won’t do this for every character I’ve built before, characters who have new options made available with these updates will get a new rebuild for 2021. If you want to compare and contrast this build to the original, I will link that build right [here].
The Spirit of the Hero
Link’s a Hylian and that’s just a fancy way of saying elf. His best racial options are either the High Elf, the Wood Elf, or the Half-Elf. Half-elf’s extra skills are tempting, but as Link is never given any parents or an ancestral family tree, we can’t really justify him as a half-elf. We’ll call him a Wood Elf for the extra +2 to his Dexterity and the +1 to his Wisdom as well as that woodsy vibe. But if you wanna go for a Half-Elf for the power build, I won’t tell anyone.
Link’s alignment is tricky. On the one hand, he is shown kneeling before the monarchy, defeating the forces of evil and darkness, and doing odd jobs to help the common people he comes across. However, he can also start forest fires, break into people’s houses, smash pots, steal people’s life savings or personal belongings, and attack the chicken population until they attack back. I’d wager he’s Neutral Good if for no other reason than his morality is highly dependent on the player.
My first choice for Link’s background would be the Folk Hero for Animal Handling and Survival. However, Link’s background is so inconsistent, it’s easier to just list out the skills he tends to have and tell you to pick a background that has those skills, or create your own: Animal Handling, Athletics, Investigation, Nature, Perception, or Survival. There’s a case to be made for other skills as well. Acrobatics works a little and his jumps did involve sick flips in Majora’s Mask, but Link doesn’t tend to balance or platform jump very often. Link can play instruments fine and danced in the Subrosian Dance Hall in Oracle of Seasons for Performance proficiency, but he’s usually playing instruments to activate effects, not to actually perform for a crowd. Link shows some Stealth skills in Breath of the Wild, but this hasn’t been a longstanding skill of his, so I didn’t lump it in with his main skill list.
Becoming a Hero
When it comes to his build, Link has made some use of spells in the past, but he’s nowhere near the spellcaster that Zelda and Ganondorf are. Link is definitely more of a martial fighter who augments himself with a wide arsenal of magical items. So when it comes to picking Link’s class, we have a few things to keep in mind.
BARD
Link is a talented young man, and he has had magical instruments in a few games over the years, as well as dancing in Subrosia, among other things. While I don’t subscribe to the idea of Link being a bard myself, I understand why people would come to this conclusion, as Link isn’t really bad at anything... except talking. And lying. And looking threatening. Or haggling. Yeah kind of hard to depict Link as a CHA caster who isn’t proficient in any CHA skill checks.
Spirits (UA) This doesn’t fit for every Link, but especially for Breath of the Wild where Link gets help from the spirits of his fallen comrades, the flavor of calling on the dead works for Link. For a non-BotW example, maybe Link can tell stories of his past lives, and the memories he shares with each of them.
Valor This college has the downside of being built as a cheerleader, while Link really should be built for solo-combat since that’s how he approaches most fights. But Valor is better than Swords and also gives Link proficiency with martial weapons and shields, while Swords does not.
FIGHTER
While there are many martial classes, the Fighter differentiates itself by being the most down-to-earth option. It’s not beholden to rage, or smites, hunting, or sneaking. It is the simple skill of the blade, and this is a skill Link has in spades. From the earliest games, Link has been a master of the sword, the shield, and the bow.
Battle Master Link is a strategic fighter. He looks for weak spots, and he exploits them the best he can. Of all the fighter subclasses, none is more clever than the Battle Master. Its many maneuvers resembles the numerous sword techniques Link has learned especially in the later games. Even in Smash, Link showcases how clever he is by being able to combine his arrows with his bombs and shoot a bomb arrow. To my knowledge, none of the other characters can combine their abilities like this in Smash.
Cavalier The subclass is poorly named, and was better in its initial name as the Knight, as that is really what this subclass is. It is the idea of the knight in shining armor. They can also be flavored as bodyguards, a traveling sellsword, or castle guards. So Link does not have to be glued to Epona to make use of this subclass. The main reason to want this subclass is the Warding Maneuver, as giving Link the chance to either block or reduce all damage he takes is going to seriously improve how well he can tank a hit, and help keep him in a fight longer.
PALADIN
More than any other class, the Paladin actually stands for something. They fight for a value or a belief. They swear their life to a cause and are prepared to die fighting for it. Link works on a lore level as a Paladin. Especially when he’s dedicated multiple lifetimes to the same cause. Across every timeline and game over screen, Link has always returned and stood in defiance against whatever evil may come.
Ancients This oath makes Link sworn to the forces of nature, such as the Great Fairy, and protecting the balance and harmony of the light, life, and love against death, decay, and darkness. The Ancients Paladin is all about protecting the balance in the world and valiantly opposing evil wherever it might arise. It also has a druidic or fey aspect, which kind of works for Link.
Crown With this vow, Link serves the Hyrulian Royal Family. This makes Link the princess’ personal knight, and an agent of lawfulness, order, and peacekeeping in the land. While 5e has backed away from typecasting Paladins as Lawful Good, this is probably the most Lawful subclass one could pick, as it places the authority of the royal family above all else.
Glory Instead of being sworn to the light or the law, the Glory Paladin is the harbinger of the goddesses. They are flavored as legendary heroes of destiny, possibly being demigods or the personal errand boys of the setting’s pantheon. This subclass is clearly focused on being a frontline warrior, and the features make Link a true force on the battlefield.
RANGER
Anyone who’s played Legend of Zelda knows that Link is very good at surviving. The games don’t tell you how to navigate the wilderness, Link just has to figure it out for himself. What’s more, Link may be willing to venture into the wilderness, but he’ll be hard-pressed to find many NPCs that far outside of settlements or cities. Yet what they fear, he thrives in. And it’s no wonder that this is the class most peole would assume for Link.
Hunter This conclave is the slayer of all things that threaten civilization. They can choose to be better at chipping away at one enemy, counter attack bigger monsters, or mow through hordes of minions with more ease by taking out multiple at a time. Especially at higher levels, this conclave excels at ripping apart Ganon’s forces with nary a golden curl out of place.
ROGUE
The rogue doesn’t need to be a wanted criminal on the lamb. They can be a clever fighter with a variety of skills and a knack for evasion. That speaks a lot more to Link’s skill set than one might assume at first glance. It’s not a perfect fit for Link, but it’s really not that inaccurate either.
Inquisitive This roguish archetype is defined by being clever in combat, looking for weak points to exploit. They’re also much more observant, making them better at discovering clues or secret passages, or telling when they’re being misled. At higher levels, their ability to look for weaknesses can even increase their sneak attack damage. This especially fits some of the older games where boss fights were focused on using items to exploit the dungeon boss’ weaknesses, rather than hacking away at their health bar. In these older titles, Link was less of a straight up warrior and more of a clever trickster pulling off strategic victories.
Scout The Scout Rogue has heavy Ranger vibes, as they get free expertise in Nature and Survival, enhanced mobility, the ability to disengage from fights more easily, and at higher levels become masters of ambushes. This fits well with Link’s sneakier sniper playstyle that can be done in Breath of the Wild, as Link can take out entire camps without ever being seen.
Thief While Link is not a standard cutpurse, Link is a treasure hunter, a dungeon delver, and the jokes about him robbing the people of Hyrule and breaking into people’s homes doesn’t exactly help. The thief also gets to use more magical items, allowing Link to use things such as enchanted instruments without being a bard.
WARLOCK
Link usually isn’t the hero of his own volition. He often starts his journey with Triforce of Courage, a source of power gifted by his patrons. It’s honestly a weak connection, but it loosely works, so I’m including it.
Celestial While this subclass is geared toward serving something other than a god, I don’t see any reason why a Celestial Warlock couldn’t serve the Triple Goddesses of Hyrule or even Hylia/Zelda directly.
Hexblade The most obviously martial warlock option, this is a good choice if you want to incorporate Fi into your character.
Link’s Toy Chest
Hero’s Sword - Longsword (+1-3)
Mirror Shield - Repulsion Shield
Hero’s Bow - Oathbow
Gale Boomerang - Storm Boomerang
Fire Rod - Wand of Fireballs (requires spellcasting)
Mastersword - Sword of Zariel, Holy Avenger Longsword*
Hylian Shield - Shield of the Hidden Lord
Goddess Bow - Ephixis, Bow of Nylea
Golden Gauntlets - Gauntlets of Ogre Power
Zora Tunic - Cloak of the Manta Ray
Pegasus Boots - Boots of Speed
Hover Boots - Boots of Levitation
Hook Shot - Rope of Climbing
SIDEKICKS
Sidekicks are a new edition from Tasha’s that let Link bring allies on his hero’s journey. Experts are skill monkeys who focus on Help actions, Spellcasters dip into the INT, WIS, or CHA spell lists, and Warriors are trained to fight and don’t have to talk, so they can be animals.
Epona - Defender Warrior Riding Horse
Navi - Expert or Healer Spellcaster Sprite
Sidon - Attacker Warrior Merfolk
Sheik - Expert Noble (Elf)
Wolf Link - Attacker Warrior Wolf
Theros Piety
The Piety System from Theros lets us be devout to a god and earn features from worshiping them. As far as I’m aware, this is an optional feature, and not every DM will make use of these, but if you’re able to, here’s a handy guide. These gods really stood out as the clear choices for Link to go with.
Iroas - God of Victory
Domains: War
Virtues: Achieve a great victory, Overcome slim odds honorably, Defeat a foe in single combat, Perform a great feat of strength or skill
Sins: Being a coward in battle, Beat an honorable foe through deceit, harm innocents
Piety Bonus:
+3 Learn Compelled Duel spell
+10 Learn Crusader’s Mantle spell
+25 For 1 minute, creatures cannot gain advantage on you
+50 Increase STR or CHA by 2 to a max of 22
Keranos - God of Storms
Domains: Knowledge, Tempest
Virtues: Solve a riddle or puzzle, defeat an unwise enemy, plan ahead for an upcoming challenge, build or restore a temple to Keranos
Sins: Jeopardize others through foolishness, ignore a wise course of action, fail to plan for a challenge, give in to anger or self-destruction
Piety Bonus:
+3 Add 1d6 lightning damage to melee attack up to INT mod turns.
+10 Reroll a failed INT or WIS saving throw
+25 Advantage on Initiative rolls
+50 Increase INT or WIS by 2 to a max of 22
Nylea - Goddess of the Wild
Domains: Nature
Virtues: Help any wild animal, stop those who hunt for sport or profit, win an archery competition, slay an aberration, fiend, or undead
Sins: Kill an animal without reason, Dedicate a building to or make a sacrifice for any god (including Nylea), protect a city from a natural disaster
Piety Bonus:
+3 Learn Hunter’s Mark
+10 Learn Speak with Animals
+25 Attacking creatures must pass DC 15 WIS save or change targets.
+50 Increase DEX or WIS by 2 to a max of 22
Cunning Tactician
Battle Master Fighter (12)
Inquisitive Rogue (8)
Fighting Style: Dueling
Maneuvers: Brace, Disarming Strike, Feinting Attack, Parry, Precision Attack, Riposte, Sweeping Attack
Tools: Thieves’ Tools, Mason’s Tools
While Link is brave and strong, he is most defined by his clever mind and unorthodox solutions to boss fights. With this class split, Link has prioritized strategy and tactics over everything else. While it leaves him a little squishier, Link is still a very capable warrior. As a Battle Master, he got a free tool proficiency. Mason’s Tools allows Link to find secret passageways in stone walls, which most dungeons tend to be made of. On top of that, with his Feinting Attack, Link can give himself advantage, meaning he can use Sneak Attack even in a 1v1 fight, which fits his solo adventurer playstyle.
One-Man Army
Battle Master Fighter (12)
Hunter Ranger (8)
Fighting Style: Dueling, Archery
Maneuvers: Brace, Disarming Strike, Feinting Attack, Parry, Precision Attack, Riposte, Sweeping Attack
Hunter’s Prey: Colossus Slayer, Multiattack Defense
Tools: Mason’s Tools
I used this build once in a level 10 campaign. 6 levels of Fighter, 4 levels of Ranger with a +2 Longsword, and let me tell you something. This build creamed the competition, which was the other PCs at the table, who were also built as level 10 characters. Link nearly defeated his first opponent in a single round, dealing around 70 damage between his four attacks. When I say this is Link’s “power” build, I mean it. I didn’t even sweat when an adult blue dragon showed up after the tournament ended, that’s how much faith I had in Link’s ability to fight. I honestly forgot to even use Link’s battle maneuvers, he was just dealing so much damage that it slipped my mind. You could swap Battle Master for Cavalier, but for me, the Battle Master is more accurate to Link’s favor of techniques over basic hack-and-slash.
RANGER SPELLS
1 Absorb Elements, Ensnaring Strike, Hunter’s Mark
2 Cordon of Arrows, Healing Spirit
The Hero of Hyrule
Battle Master Fighter (12)
Glory Paladin (8)
Fighting Style: Archery, Dueling
Maneuvers: Brace, Disarming Strike, Feinting Attack, Parry, Precision Attack, Riposte, Sweeping Attack
Tools: Mason’s Tools
As a Glory Paladin, Link is driven by a desire to be a legendary hero, and at least in the UA version, the Glory Paladin served the gods, as Link does. Like the two builds above, Link balances the brute might of the Glory Paladin with the tactile diversity of the Battle Master.
PALADIN SPELLS
1 Cure Wounds, Divine Favor, Guiding Bolt, Heroism, Protection from Evil and Good, Searing Smite, Thunderous Smite, Wrathful Smite
2 Branding Smite, Enhance Ability, Find Steed, Magic Weapon, Warding Bond
Oaths and Promises
Glory Paladin (12)
Celestial Warlock (8)
Fighting Style: Dueling
Pact: Blade
Invocations: Eldritch Smite, Improved Pact Weapon, Maddening Hex, Relentless Hex
The builds from here on are more for the flavor than necessarily Link’s character. As a Blade Pact Paladock, Link becomes a CHA-focused martial with some extra spell slots that turn his smiting sword strikes into a bokoblin slurry machine. This build focuses Link more as a servant of the gods than anything else. Just make sure he has the Hex spell, but you can replace Maddening Hex with Agonizing Blast if you want to use the Master Sword laser beam at full potential.
PALADIN SPELLS
1 Divine Favor, Guiding Bolt, Heroism, Protection from Evil and Good, Searing Smite, Thunderous Smite, Wrathful Smite
2 Branding Smite, Enhance Ability, Find Steed, Magic Weapon, Warding Bond
3 Blinding Smite, Crusader’s Mantle, Elemental Weapon, Haste, Protection from Energy
WARLOCK SPELLS
C Blade Ward, Booming Blade, Sword Burst
1 Armor of Agathys, Cure Wounds, Hex
2 Lesser Restoration, Misty Step, Shatter
3 Spirit Shroud, Summon Fey
4 Galder’s Speedy Courier
To Serve and Protect
Battle Master Fighter (12)
Crown Paladin (8)
Fighting Style: Dueling, Interception
Maneuvers: Bait and Switch, Brace, Disarming Strike, Goading Strike, Parry, Riposte, Sweeping Attack
Tools: Mason’s Tools
Link is Zelda’s knight, bodyguard, and servant. So this build prioritizes features that makes Link the loyal emissary of the Princess of Hyrule. As such, this build changes Link’s role to be more of a defender to the princess than a solo hero. This build assumes that the princess or someone else who needs to be protected is joining Link on his adventure.
PALADIN SPELLS
1 Command, Cure Wounds, Divine Favor, Heroism, Compelled Duel, Searing Smite, Thunderous Smite, Wrathful Smite
2 Branding Smite, Find Steed, Warding Bond, Zone of Truth
After all is said and done, I hope I gave everyone a lot to work with. Of course my suggestions are not law, and if nothing else, I hope it gives you an idea of how you want to build him. Last time I built Link, I gave one set build for him, but I still laid out other options. Recently though, I’ve been trying to show multiple builds at the end of my build posts to offer a wider idea of what building a character can look like. Happy 2021 everyone, and let’s hope this year goes smoother.
#legend of zelda#the legend of zelda#link#the hero of time#spirit of the hero#hyrule#hero of hyrule#princess zelda#dnd#dnd 5e#dnd fifth edition#dnd 5th edition#tashas cauldron of everything#tcoe#Fifth Edition#5th edition#dungeons & dragons#Dungeons and Dragons#breath of the wild#botw#dungeons and dragons fifth edition#dungeons and dragons 5th edition#botw2#triforce#triforce of courage#loz#nintendo#zelda#ocarina of time#majoras mask
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Untethered (Bonus II) 《Bonus I》
For the first time in his life, XL feels like he can speak without the pressures and expectations of being a prince weighing down on his shoulders. He watches his facial expressions in the mirror as he rambles about the various meetings he had for the day. The subtle dancing of his eyebrows, rapid blinking of his eyes, and pinched corners of his lips—all indicative of how animated he is when summarizing his duties that seemed more like work than anything else.
The fact that HC is here, brushing his hair, and listening with occasional intrigued hums make XL reinvigorated as his role as prince. Despite the demanding energy, control, and fairness the role takes, XL is incredibly grateful for the privilege and promises himself to continue to fulfill this purpose to the best of his abilities.
So far, XL believes he’s done a sufficient job, preparing to ascend to the throne. After hearing him speak, he secretly hopes HC thinks so too.
“Ah, San Lang, thank you for kindly tending to my hair. It looks wonderful,” XL says once he feels the final knots come undone by HC’s broad strokes.
“Of course it looks wonderful. It is His Highness, after all,” the pirate captain comments smoothly. XL can’t help but smile at the compliment.
HC goes to place the comb back on the vanity. He switches it out for a short ribbon that shimmers silver when hit by the moonlight.
“Allow me to do one more thing,” HC adds. He gathers all of XL’s hair to fall behind his shoulders, the strands still a bit damp. With practiced movements, HC parts the prince’s hair into three sections, then begins braiding the pieces into a thick, tight section.
XL licks his lips in anticipation. Though he’s had his hair styled a thousand times before, this is HC who currently braids his long locks, a gesture that seems a bit intimate.
Not that you mind, XL briefly thinks.
“How have the last few weeks treated San Lang?” He asks, reminding HC of his promise to talk about his days on the ocean. HC pulls the pieces of hair tighter, focused on creating a simple yet consistent and neat braided pattern for the prince.
“Troublesome. There’s a new pirate ship we have encountered several times. They said they want to challenge us for our water territories, which is a load of shit because the sea belongs to no one,” HC spits out heatedly. His tone is harsh but his touch is gentle as ever. “I honestly think the captain wants to mess with me. Make me question my reign as the ‘most feared, ruthless, and violent pirate to sail the waters.’”
“Oh. I see,” XL says hesitantly. He’s not very familiar with the inside knowledge of pirate ways and society other than what is generalized by the public. And the palace’s gossip, of course.
Suddenly, a rush of hot air tickles XL’s ear. XL locks eyes with HC through the mirror, heart stuttering at the dark, hungry look in the pirate’s eye.
“What does His Highness think?”
“Think about what?”
“My reputation. Does the real thing live up to your imagination?” HC questions with a sly smirk, quickly tying the ribbon at the end of the braid, then moving it to fall over XL’s right shoulder. XL only has a few seconds to marvel at the stunning handiwork before HC leans forward even more, urging XL to turn toward him, their faces mere centimeters apart.
The pirate captain smells like manly musk mixed in with the ocean breeze. XL nervously gulps.
“I- um,” XL starts, feeling his face heat up. “Hmm, maybe not entirely...”
HC’s eye slowly flits down XL’s face. XL remains still, mentally kicking himself for wondering what it would feel like to close the small gap and-
“Fair enough,” HC remarks, pulling away, leaving a rush of air in his wake. “I suppose I’m not the madman people say I am. After all, His Highness wouldn’t have let me into his room otherwise, no?”
Something hot burns inside XL’s gut. He had to let HC in! If the pirate were discovered by the palace guards, he’d be imprisoned indefinitely for sure! XL was simply doing an act of service for HC...nothing too outrageous like HC implied.
Nope, none at all.
“You’re blushing.“
“San Lang better take a good look around lest this is the only time I invite him into my room,” XL huffs out, resolutely facing forward and avoiding HC’s penetrating gaze.
“Forgive me, Your Highness. I was simply teasing,” HC says, though he doesn’t sound all that apologetic. “A prince like you must have many admirers to choose from. I shall not take this privilege for granted.”
“Admirers? Where on Earth did you get that from?” XL asks, appalled. He hasn’t taken interest in any of the brides his father provided, much less traveled to other kingdoms in a serious pursuit to find one to marry.
“Is there not a ball happening this coming week? For you to choose a suitable woman to become your queen?” HC inquiries nonchalantly. He tucks a rogue curl behind XL’s ear, the prince subtly leaning into the touch.
XL whips around in astonishment, braid flying to his other shoulder.
“How did you know!?”
“I have ears on land, my prince. Even when I’m out sailing the sea,” HC says. “We have also passed numerous royal ships carrying your guests for the celebration.”
XL wilts in his seat.
It’s not much of a celebration if XL hadn’t wanted to host an engagement ball in the first place. Years of his father’s insistent pushing have led to more frequent gatherings with other royalty in hopes that XL finds a fiancé.
Unlike his parents, XL wasn’t betrothed from a young age. Furthermore, he hasn’t expressed any interest in marriage even once becoming an adult.
(“Your mother and I were married at twenty. You, my son, are already twenty-two,” the king always said. “You should quickly find a princess who catches your eye. The sooner you get yourself a wife, the sooner she will start learning her duties as queen.”)
XL has successfully put off marriage for a couple of years, deferring to his rigorous training schedule and duties as prince as an excuse. Fortunately, his mother is willing to let XL take his time, as the king isn’t set to retire anytime soon. After all, XL learning his responsibilities as king is the most important task.
HC instantly notices XL’s deflated expression. He attempts to backpedal.
“I had no right to bring that up. If this is something Gege does not want to discuss, then, by all means, he may change the subject,” HC says quietly. Respectfully.
“No. It is fine. It is by no means a secret at all. The ball has been scheduled for weeks now,” XL murmurs while looking at his bare feet. He fiddles with the long braid, smoothing over the tightly wrapped strands absent-mindedly. “I’m not actively looking for a wife or anything. At least, I don’t want to...”
“Your Highness-“
“San Lang.”
HC’s mouth snaps shut. He straightens his back with his shoulders set square, standing at attention in front of the Prince of Xianle.
“Could you do something for me? A small favor, if you will.”
“Anything,” HC immediately answers.
XL subconsciously chews on his lower lip, a habit that his closest friend SQX reprimands him for doing because it tears up both the old and healing skin. Easy to overdo, not a quick fix, SQX claims.
XL rises to his feet. He holds his hand out to the pirate, palm facing upwards.
Where’s My Love – SYML
“Will you dance with me?”
“I’m afraid gege will be sorely disappointed with this one’s lack of skill,” HC says as a matter-of-fact, but he doesn’t hesitate to accept XL’s hand, his long fingers blanketing XL’s own.
The prince’s heart skips a beat as the pirate pulls him close until their chests almost touch. XL feels small; HC’s heeled boots to XL’s bare feet exaggerate their height difference, XL only coming up to HC’s chest.
XL feels small but strangely, he wouldn’t want it any other way.
“San Lang needs only to follow my lead,” XL says, looking up with a smile. He properly intertwines their left and right hands, then places HC’s other hand on his shoulder. Finally, XL goes to hold the pirate’s waist, the thin fabric giving way to the hard muscle underneath.
“Gege must have danced with a lot of pretty women before,” HC muses, moving his feet as XL slowly guides him into a waltz. XL hopes it isn’t just him imagining a slow, romantic piece to harmonize their movements.
“Is San Lang jealous?” XL asks without thinking.
Goodness, did those words seriously just come out of his mouth? Other than his eyes widening in slight horror, XL schools his face into a calm expression, not wanting to seem conceited or even desperate.
HC peers down with a lazy smirk, almost crowding into the prince as they turn to dance in a circle. Despite XL’s effort to appear unfazed by the prospect of HC envying those who’ve had the opportunity to dance with the Prince of Xianle, the pirate still catches the hopeful flicker of XL’s eyelashes.
“A little bit. Though in a way, I’ve had my fair share of dances with Gege myself,” HC states proudly, referring back to their previous sparring sessions. The break in focus has HC stumbling over his feet, prompting XL to squeeze his waist as a reprimand to concentrate.
“Ah, yes. San Lang’s skill is undeniable in that aspect,” XL says, laughing. “He’s also the first and only man I’ve danced ever with.”
“What an honor,” HC purrs out, and then he lowers XL into an abrupt dip, holding the prince by his hip and upper back.
XL’s breath hitches, wondering how they seamlessly switched positions. HC tenderly stares down at the prince, a twinkle dimly reflecting in his left eye.
“San Lang...” XL whispers, clutching onto HC’s shoulders. His long braid feels heavy like rope where it hangs down, nearly touching the ground.
“Your Highness.”
Their faces are millimeters apart, skimming each other’s noses. They’ve never been this close before, especially not in the absence of any sort of weapon. No one besides the king and queen, palace servants, and bodyguards are even allowed to touch the prince.
Now here he is, in the arms of the infamous Crimson Rain, on the verge of letting himself want.
Tentatively, XL licks his lips before asking, “Why do you always come back?”
“Gege knows this answer too,” HC solemnly says.
XL tilts his chin up, eyelids starting to lower.
“I come back for you, my dear Prince.”
As HC leans down—still supporting XL’s weight—XL meets him halfway for their first proper kiss, alone together in the prince’s room where the pale moonlight spills through the balcony doors. It’s a light and airy peck, one that ends way too soon for XL’s liking.
When they pull apart, HC stands XL back up. The pirate notices XL’s robe has slid off one shoulder. He goes to pull it back up but XL quickly grasps his jaw for another kiss instead.
They part again.
“Just...one more-“ XL breathes out, adrenaline coursing through his veins. HC’s lips are warm and firm, easily pliable as they press deliciously against XL’s own. “...one more.”
HC gladly obliges.
Their kisses gradually pick up in pace, HC’s hands respectively exploring the span of XL’s back, his hips, and sides. XL eagerly pulls HC over to the edge of his bed, spinning them around so he can climb onto the pirate’s lap.
HC groans low in his throat, comfortably looping his arms around XL’s waist.
At this point, all of XL’s reservations have been cast aside and he’s going to act on the desires concerning a certain pirate that have been taunting him for months now, damn it.
XL surges forward with a force that knocks HC back against the soft mattress.
“Your Highness,” HC growls between kisses, still trying to cover up XL’s shoulder, and now his chest where the robe is loose enough to reveal noticeable cleavage. XL shifts a bit to align their hips, unintentionally rubbing against HC. “Shit-“
“Hua Cheng-“ XL hums, belatedly realizing his slip up. HC nips at his lip for his mistake.
“San L-lang,” XL mewls like the starved for affection prince that he is. HC’s tongue darts out to swipe across XL’s upper lip. Then, his lower lip.
XL naturally opens up for him, gasping as HC’s hot tongue licks inside his mouth with a dominance that consumes XL. The more XL lets his lust cloud his movement, the faster he feels himself harden.
When XL’s hands brush along HC’s hair, they accidentally graze onto his eyepatch. HC grunts in surprise, which has XL springing back as the situation of the last five minutes dawns upon him.
He sits up on HC’s thighs, placing his palms on the pirate’s chest. Underneath him, HC is a gorgeous vision–thick, wavy hair splayed out on XL’s pillow, lips swollen and spit-slicked.
“Oh my- oh my lord,” XL chokes out, completely breathless. “Was- was that t-too much?”
“Not at all, Your Highness,” HC replies with a rogue-ish smirk. “Come here.”
HC embraces his prince with long arms, squeezing tightly and pressing a series of kisses to the top of XL’s head. XL hesitantly rests his cheek on HC’s sternum, aware of how close their bodies are pressed together.
“Who knew Gege could kiss like that?”
“Like what?” XL questions petulantly.
“Like a shameless minx,” the pirate captain answers, chuckling when XL whines at the implication.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” XL shyly admits.
“Me too,” HC murmurs. XL lifts his head, crosses his arms on HC’s chest, then sets his chin on them. “Since the moment I saw you sitting alone at the pub.”
“You wanted to kiss the crown prince at first sight?” XL asks, pretending to be scandalized. HC kisses the tip of XL’s nose. XL scrunches it up in response.
“Hmm, my prince now.”
“Well, your prince would very much like it if San Lang stays the night.”
“I must be back at the harbor before dawn,” HC says, stroking XL’s hair. “However, I can most certainly afford to accompany Gege while he sleeps.”
XL happily snuggles close to HC, not worrying quite so much about the ball now that he has something going on with HC. To his astonishment, the pirate seems to return his affections quite enthusiastically. As a prince with the duty to serve his people, XL reckons he deserves this moment of happiness.
After another hour of blissful exchanging kisses and aimless conversation, XL feels himself begin to drift. He hears a whispered promise from HC who protectively curls around him.
“I will never bring you harm, Your Highness. Your heart is safe with me.”
XL falls asleep into a dreamless slumber.
***
Present...
As if it happens in slow motion, XL swings the sword with all the power he possesses. HC’s arms stretch open in vulnerability, lips forming into a small, understanding smile.
“Gege.”
Something inside XL shatters. The familiar term of endearment is for XL’s ears only. His heart pounds against his rib cage with the ferocity of an imprisoned soul, screaming at XL to ask not what he would wish for in death, but what is he willing to live for?
The answer is right in front of him.
“I’m back.”
Three things happen at once.
A deafening BOOM fires at the royal ship from the opposite direction, pitch-black flags with the symbolic skeleton of a fish piercing through the chilly air.
Simultaneously, a blinding flash of lightning strikes across the sky, signaling an even more intense downpour of rain that obscures everyone’s vision. Surprised screams echo somewhat mutely among the roaring winds.
Lastly, XL swings his sword so it barely skims the open blouse HC wears and keeps rotating until it crosses behind him, where he lets it go flying back to the royal ship.
At that moment, XL leaps forward into HC’s embrace, where those long arms encircle his waist, and both men are sent tumbling down into the crashing waves of the raging ocean.
《VI》
#tgcf#heaven official's blessing#hualian#hualian au#xie lian#hua cheng#pirate & prince au#cerdrabbles#TBC#tian guan ci fu#the bonus had to be split into two#I really just wanted to write Hualian’s first kiss here hehe#we back in the present babyyy
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Reverse Au! Dump
Don’t mind my idea dumping here. Brain decided to have fun while I was at work and I have too many wips as it is, so… Thought I’d ask before I dumped, experience. Used morningmark’s comics as a base, so if you want reference. Now this isn’t all that well compiled, but here it goes.
~
Magic in the Other World is varied as it is crazy. So many styles over the generations and not a lot of organization. There are some that try to categorize it all, but that works as well as you’d expect. Some were lost, some erased, some weren’t passed down/recorded because “the power is all mine! Ahahaha!” It took a lot of time and collaboration, but eventually a sort of system was installed to help out. Still a lot of work to do, but its a step forward. Nowadays the term Wild Magic is generally reserved for those that aren’t all that well documented and understood.
Some Magics are very powerful and desirable, but also tend to be very high risk/high reward, kinda pass/fail, pretty literally Do or Die most times. So not a lot of people can use those or are even willing to. Story says this one guy named Odin hung himself on a massive tree by his own spear for nine days, no food water or rest in constant pain before he could unlock the secret of Runes. But it’s also said he gouged out his own eye to drink from the Well of Wisdom so…
There are lots of different ways to channel magic too: wands, staves, jewelry, certain gems, familiars, potions, enchanted armaments, chants, scripts, etc. Each tool has its own advantages and disadvantages and play into a Witches’ style. Every Witch has at least two methods of spellcasting. Only children have one. Haven’t thought of how Luz gets her Palisman though. Maybe its one of those magic Artifacts like Dr. Strange’s cloak, Elder Wand, Thor’s hammer, or a Green Lantern’s Ring. Something that can’t be recreated because the secret is lost, materials no longer exist, too hard/dangerous to make, accident that can’t be recreated, etc. Happens more often than people like.
Camilla is sometimes called the Blue Witch. She’s a healer by heart and trade, but push her and she will become a one Witch Battleship. Bismark who? Aaaaand she just deleted a whole battalion. And the fortress behind them. Hide me. There are the very rare occasions, like count on one hand rare, when someone near and dear to her heart is in trouble that she takes up her other job. She’s especially terrifying when she decides to torture, those who know how to heal the body know best how to break it. Many shades of Blue, some are very close to Black. She doesn’t necessarily hate Humans exactly, but doesn’t have the highest of regard from past experiences.
Luz has training and is a proficient Witch for her age. Camilla and her father were adamant about having a general knowledge/skillset alongside her specialized skill. Jack of all trades and a master of none, still better than a master of one. She has gone through the system for her magic with varying success. Oracle magic? Zero talent. Bard classes? She can play an instrument, but can’t sing at the same time. When she does sing she tires too hard and messes up. It’s only when she doesn’t try, like absently singing along with a song or playing by her heart, that she’s good at it. Beasts? Can use them, but would rather play with them. Bleeding heart and all that. She does have a good handle on healing magic partly due to Camilla drilling necessary skills into her and partly osmosis. Her father arranged for some CQC lessons from an old friend of his which the girl loved. You get the idea. It wasn’t until she discovered Glyphs that she found her niche and her skills took off. Glyphs are one of those ‘eccentric’ or 'archaic’ styles since they haven’t been used in so long after being lost and are barely understood. She still has a long way to go, but she is on her way.
Luz never really had much in the way of friends, partly cuz of high profile parents which leads to certain pressures and a target on her head, partly because of her magic style and personality, and partly because of the trouble been going on. Luz grew up her whole life with this tension of a group of anarchists trying to burn society that’s just trying to do the right thing. The anarchists started small, but have been a growing problem the past few decades with talk how to 'reshape the world’ in not a good way. Anyone with critical thinking skills can tell this is a bad idea, but they are too brainwashed to notice. They harass anyone who doesn’t follow their rhetoric and attack anyone who even questions them. Luz’s parents put a real kink in a lot of their plans for years, which makes Luz guilty by association.
Luz got caught in one of those sudden larger scuffles and was accidentally chucked/blown through a portal created by an attempted tactical retreat that went off course. Hence why she can’t go home because she hasn’t learned how to do portals yet. Those are high level anyway so how did these guys pull it off so easily? Luz has a hard time blending in obviously. Learning how to use a phone was a fun endeavor. Internet was a trip. Luz is amazed how these people can do all this cool stuff without magic. Keep a low profile sure, she can pass off as a weird out of town kid. Keep the beanie on, underperform in gym and stuff because some things don’t change, like genetics. Someone sharp eyed will see discrepancies. The Beanie has a small Glamor spell built in that covers her witchy traits but she forgot the ears which is why it sits like it does. Luz can erase memories in case she has an accident, but it’s less of a 'remove my face from this picture with a scalpel’, and more of a 'lemme just hack off the past hour or three from your brain with an axe.’ If she tries to take any more then she starts burning into some more dangerous territory and those Wiped are groggy and disoriented for a while after already. Then the magic attacks start happening and her heroic instinct/anti-bystander complex kicks in and there goes that. It runs in the family so Camilla isn’t surprised in the slightest when she finds out.
“Oh titan, why did you curse me with another me?” “I’m right here Mami!”
Eda has a shack very akin to Grunkle Stan. Lots of junk that Lilith can’t believe that people are dumb enough to buy. She’s also involved in some not so legal dealings on the side. Well, Eda isn’t actually hurting anybody and the tax dollars she should be paying would only go towards some politicians’ next yacht or another pointless overseas 'investment’ instead of where it’s supposed to go so. Eda does give some good intel on occasion and a place to vent so Lillith overlooks her. Lil’s more of the secret police for witches and a petty crook isn’t part of her job anyway. Eda understands Luz’s predicament and is willing to help. The cover story is that Camilla work in hospitals and has to work crazy hours while her dad passed away so is living with Eda for a while. King is that kind of critter that grew up weird and acts like ten different animals all the time.
Gus is the nerdy kid who infodumps on everybody, even if they’re not listening. Loves anything fantasy/sci-fi related and plays Minecraft too. A good kid at heart, but needs some social skills. Keep him away from anything more sugary than tea. Luz learned a lot listening to him. Not all of it is entirely useful, but still. Some of his ramblings give her some good ideas for magic and stuff, like putting Glyphs on cards.
The Blights are the cool rich kids obviously, and have some discipline and social issues. Big family name makes them intimidating for normies and a meal ticket for the unsavory. These kids need real friends. They decided to act out to get some attention from the parents who then decided to ignore them. “If you’re going to act like a child tantrum, get treated like one.” Ed is perfect for Drama classes, if he were allowed to partake. Can’t decide what Em is great at, hacking perhaps? Amity’s car is an inheritance from the only family to treat her as such Twins aside, even if she’s too young to remember it. She only remembers that she has feelings surrounding the car. All three of them were pretty impressed with Luz for standing up to them, calling them out on their shit, and not giving a crap about their family name. Being treated like a normal person is pretty weird. Can we get her to do that again?
Amity tried dating Boscha once, didn’t work out very well. Boscha is still hurting over Amity’s comment of “I’d rather go date the new weird kid (Luz) than go back to you.” It’s one of the reasons she goes after Luz. She has that kind of Bud personality from Spider Man, feels lesser and so acts out so much.
“Wow, this new Witch is amazing. Not as cool as the original Witch.”
“What is it with the Witch with you?”
“Oh, she’s a hero. Looks out for the city and the little guy. She inspires me. Makes me want to be a bigger person. *sees Luz* What’s up Luz-er?”
~
And that’s what I got right now. I know there was more, but it’s lost to the void right now. Might come back later, maybe not. Lemme know what you think.
............
DAMN you weren’t lying when you said you had an info-dump this is *chefs kiss* you got me intrigued now
#asks#reverse au#info dump#the owl house#toh#ideas#long post#also sorry about adding the break i hope thats cool#magic#human realm#boiling isles#luz noceda#willow park#gus porter#boscha#amity blight#luz#willow#gus#amity#camila noceda#camila#eda clawthorne#eda#the blights#submission
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Dream SMP Genshin Impact AU
because I love genshin and also dsmp
Dream is one of the 11 harbingers so he is able and willing to fuck shit up
has an Anemo Vision but wishes he had Pyro because it is so so cold in Snezhnaya
enables Sapnap because warmth beats property damage
in reality, he makes great use of his Vision, all light-foot and grace, dealing with his opponents as swiftly as the wind that blessed him
he is rarely seen without a mask, which he claims is to preserve his anonymity
Sapnap and George think he's just dramatic
Sapnap and Dream grew up together as Snezhnaya's infamous chaos duo
only Dream got into the harbingers but that doesn't mean Sapnap isn't dangerous in his own right
a part of the Fatui himself, adept at combat to be sure, he solves his way through problems with sheer strength or arson, whichever works best at the moment
Dream brings him everywhere for harbinger business anyway so he's pretty much in already, despite not being officially recognized
although Dream and Sapnap are part of the Fatui, they aren't entirely loyal to the Tsaritsa, though nobody but them is aware of this fact
they consider themselves a force of their own and they wouldn't be completely wrong in that assessment
they meet George on a harbinger business trip to Fontaine
an up and coming idol in Fontaine, although nobody really knows what George does, everyone is captivated nontheless
all snark and no bite, immediately at odds with Sapnap (it's a front, they actually get along really well), and Dream is intrigued
despite his lack of talent with combat, he's a pretty good healer with his Hydro Vision, even saving Dream and Sapnap's life a couple of times
the chaos duo becomes the chaos trio which will then be known as the Dream Team and the rest is history
(though how Dream managed to bring two people on supposedly confidential harbinger missions without serious repercussions is a mystery)
Technoblade crosses paths with them a few times and a friendly rivalry forms between him and Dream
it really is friendly, although no one believes them because they decimate everything around them when they spar
after traumatizing every animal in the vicinity of Springvale (ticking off the hunters because no one can catch anything anymore but no one's really willing to deliver admonishments to Dream and Technoblade), they part ways, with Techno heading back to Mondstadt, where he grew up
nobody really knows where and why Techno came to be, this boy with boar-like features found near Dawn Winery with barely any memory but if catboys exist, well who's to say pigmen don't?
the citizens of Mondstadt decide that someone should foster him for the time being and Philza (though most just call him Phil), volunteered for the task
the fostering turns into adoption and voila, Phil is officially a father
Phil doesn't have a Vision but he is Mondstadt's most consistent gliding champion and a seasoned adventurer
he teaches Techno what he learned of combat in his time adventuring and techno surpasses his father in skill and soon enough, most everyone in Mondstadt
Techno doesn't have a Vision either, a fact often met with surprise and disbelief because oh Archons how did this guy manage to demolish everyone without a Vision
Techno will tell you to not wait for the gods to give you a Vision of your own and run on spite instead, a much more reliable motivator
following in his father's footsteps, he signs up at the adventurer's guild and bids adieu to his family to go smash some mitachurl heads in
speaking of family, meet his brother, Wilbur
another orphan Phil decided to call his own, Wilbur was adopted after Techno despite being older which led to a lot of "no I'm the older brother" disputes growing up
found near Starsnatch Cliff with a broken lyre still sparking with Electro energy and vague memories of running away and people wanting to take his Vision
Wilbur was pretty much mute for the first few months of his fostering with Phil until Phil gives him a new lyre to replace the one he was found with, when he started opening up
today he's Mondstadt's favorite bard, oozing with charisma and definitely living up to the stereotype
"I heard Wilbur tried to fuck a fish in Cider Lake the other week?" "We don't question it, it's better that way."
despite fish intercourse rumors, Wilbur retains the support of the city, to the point where he tried to start a government while drunk and people were still agreeing with him
Techno put a stop to this before it got out of hand
"Wilbur, it's the City of Freedom, it doesn't need a government. Have you learned nothing from Venessa??"
"anyone caught forming governments will be drop kicked into Cider Lake, am I understood?"
people are more afraid of Techno than they like Wilbur
Wil came home with this little runt of a child once, asking him to form a band with him (the answer was a resolute no)
nevertheless, the child kept coming back, often to bother Wilbur about something which Techno sometimes got dragged into as well
"Tommy for the last time, nobody is willing to form an adventuring team with you as you are 10 years old and a hilichurl could eat you for breakfast and it still wouldn't be full."
Tommy has actual living and breathing parents but Phil still considers him his son and Wilbur and Techno treat him as their brother
he knows how to play the piano hence the band invite to Wilbur but what he really wants to do is be an adventurer
not a Knight of Favonius because, "they're all stuck up, prissy, arses"
(they really aren't, Tommy is just fond of activities that more often than not grant him another scolding from the Knights)
so he asks Techno to train him in secret which he does but the mastery of Cryo was all up to Tommy since Techno doesn't know how Visions work
(leaving Tommy to figure out things himself is a hit-and-miss type of deal; he's a bright boy but the results of his ideas range from helpful to disastrous)
Tommy learns eventually and signs up for his first adventuring deal with his best friend Tubbo, a few years after Techno leaves for his own gig
(they meet on a joint commission once and Tommy sobbed into Techno's shirt, saying that he missed him while he was away. Tommy will never admit to this now but Tubbo can gladly vouch)
I might add more people in the future because this is already vv long gn
#look i know this is just dream team + sleepy bois but this is already way longer than I expected so ill add when i want to lmao#or you can add ur own!#idrc go crazy#dreamwastaken#georgenotfound#sapnap#dream team#wilbur soot#technoblade#philza#tommyinnit#tubbo#sleepy bois inc#genshin impact#mcyt#dream smp#ahaha fuck coherent tenses dude idc#dsmp genshin au
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Fate and Phantasms #155
Today on Fate and Phantasms we're going back to the Servant Universe to preserve the Saber Empire, thanks to Mysterious Heroine X Alter! This mysterious heroine is a Psi Warrior Fighter for her legally-not-a-lightsaber skills and some legally-not-the-force, and a Bladesinger Wizard for more saber skills and legally-not-the-force lightning.
Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!
Next up: Once again, we came so close to making a build at an appropriate time. Oh well, he’s not one for the spotlight anyway.
Race and Background
You might come from another dimension, but you're still Human (er, servant), giving you +1 Dexterity, +1 Constitution, Acrobatics proficiency to help with the impractical swordfighting style you specialize in, and the Mage Slayer feat to ruin the original MHX's day. If a creature within 5 feet of you casts a spell, you can use your reaction to attack them. Your damage also causes concentration checks at a disadvantage, and you get advantage on saves against spells cast within 5 feet of you. MHX is pretty far from a mage, but this will interrupt her saber-tracking efforts.
That being said, you're still about as Far a Traveler as you can get, giving you proficiency with Insight and Perception.
Ability Scores
You are renowned for your ability to knock back sweets, and it's really hard to poison someone who literally has a reactor for a stomach, so we're gonna make your Constitution number one here. After that is going to be Intelligence, you did come from a science fiction world after all, I'm sure you know more than the average bear. Following that up is Dexterity, your armor is at most light, and no matter what form your sword takes it's still a light saber. Your Charisma isn't too bad, you've gotta be able to talk people into buying you mochi after all. Staying under that kotatsu all the time means your Strength isn't great, but we're dumping Wisdom. You want more saber faces in the world, if anything an 8's too much.
Class Levels
1. Fighter 1: First level fighters get proficiency in every weapon, and considering your sword can turn into a chainsaw I'd say that'll come in handy. You also get proficiency with Strength and Constitution saves, as well as two fighter skills. Intimidation matches your dark knight schtick, and Survival will help you cook up some sweets when you're left on your own.
You also get a Fighting Style. Your light saber comes in a variety of packages, but most of them are one handed. That means Dueling will be the most useful for you, giving you +2 on damage rolls while using only one one-handed weapon.
You also get the bonus action Second Wind, letting you stuff yourself with sweets to heal a bit once per short rest.
2. Fighter 2: Second level fighters get an Action Surge, letting you add an action to your turn once per short rest. You spent so much time lazing around, you were just... saving up for when it counted. Yeah.
3. Fighter 3: If you want to be a sith knockoff, you can't go wrong with being a Psi Warrior. When you take the subclass you gain Psionic Powers, powered by psionic dice. They're d6s (that grow when you level up) equal to twice your proficiency bonus that recharge on short rests. Currently, you can use them in three ways.
Your Protective Field lets you spend a reaction and a die to reduce the incoming damage a creature near you is taking by the die roll plus your intelligence modifier.
A Psionic Strike adds the roll + int mod in force damage to a weapon attack to light up your saber once per turn.
You can also use Telekinetic Movement to move a large or smaller object/willing creature up to 30 feet. You can do this once per short rest for free, or by using up a psionic die.
4. Fighter 4: Use this ASI to bring up your Dexterity so your sword skills aren't as bad. You're a saber after all, you've gotta be on your A game! You are a saber, right?
5. Fighter 5: Fifth level fighters get an Extra Attack. It isn't exactly rocket science, but it is very useful.
6. Wizard 1: Moving over to wizard now nets you an Arcane Recovery, helping you recover a couple spell slots on a short rest once per long rest.
Speaking of, you also learn Spells. So many spells. They use your Intelligence for casting and preparation. You get stuff like Shocking Grasp for a cheap force lightning, Mage Hand for some telekinesis that doesn't use resources, your standard gish setup, Mage Armor to make your hoodie worth something, and Absorb Elements to put that magic reactor in your chest to good use.
And that's only some of the spells you could use! Check the character sheet for more.
7. Wizard 2: If you want to blur the line between nerd and sith lord like we do, Bladesinger is a pretty good choice. You get Training in War and Song, which gives you a bunch of proficiencies you already have from fighter as well as Performance. Foreshadowing!
You can also perform a Bladesong proficiency times per long rest if you aren't using heavy armor or two-handed weapons. The song lasts a minute and uses a bonus action to start. While active, you add your Intelligence modifier to your AC and concentration saves, your walking speed goes up by 10, you have advantage on acrobatics checks.
You can also Cause Fear as part of your membership with the Dark R.O.U.N.D.S., and you also get some sci-fi gadgets to Detect Magic.
8. Wizard 3: Third level wizards get second level spells, with Magic Weapon making your light saber a bit fancier and Dragon's Breath for a more dramatic (and consistent!) use of your lightning powers.
9. Fighter 6: Bouncing back to fighter for a bit nets you another ASI to bump up your Intelligence for stronger spells and telekinesis. Again, not flashy but very useful.
10. Fighter 7: Seventh level psi knights gain two new ways to use their psionic dice thanks to being Telekinetic Adepts.
You can use a Psi-Powered Leap once per short rest or by using a psionic die to gain a flying speed equal to 2x your walking speed for the turn for big anime jumps. Dramatically launching yourself at your foes for air combat framed by the moonlight has never been easier.
Alternatively, your Telekinetic Thrust empowers your Psionic Strike, forcing a strength save (dc 8+proficiency+intelligence mod). If they fail the save, you can either knock the target prone or push them 10 feet in any horizontal direction.
11. Wizard 4: Back in wizard for a bit. This level gives you another ASI, so grab the Telekinetic feat, which increases your Intelligence by 1, lets you cast Mage Hand without making it obvious and with an increased range, and you can make telekinetic shoves as a bonus action, pushing a creature 5 feet away or towards you if they fail a strength save.
You also learn the cantrip Green-Flame Blade which makes your saber give off a bit more light and the spells Enhance Ability to activate your true power that's been sealed away for millennia. You also also get Levitate to force choke some people. They don't take damage from the spell, but it opens them up for you walloping them, so same difference.
12. Wizard 5: Fifth level wizards get third level spells, Haste lets you run anime fast for up to a minute- you also get advantage on dex saves and +2 to your AC, but after the spell ends you have to take a nap. You also get the big guns- Lightning Bolt. 100 feet of range, dealing 8d6 lightning damage to creatures that fail a dexterity save. An elegant lightning spell from a more civilized age.
13. Wizard 6: Sixth level bladesingers get something very special: an Extra Attack! It still doesn't stack with your fighter one, but now you can use a cantrip in place of one of your attacks! Roast them with lightning then hit 'em with a sword!
You can also use Fear to be an intimidating presence to multiple people at once, and Catnap to pull out the kotatsu.
14. Fighter 8: Use this ASI to bump up your Dexterity once more for even better weapon attacks and AC.
15. Fighter 9: Ninth level fighters get Indomitable, letting you re-roll a failed save once per long rest. Don't even bother with the wisdom saves, it's not going to happen.
16. Fighter 10: Tenth level Psi Knights have a Guarded Mind, letting you resist psychic damage and burn psi dice to end effects that are charming or frightening you at the start of a turn. See? Told you you didn't have to worry about wisdom saves!
17. Fighter 11: Congratulations on yet another Extra Attack! To be honest, I'm not entirely sure how that stacks with your bladesinger attacks, but that's a headache for your DM to figure out!
18. Fighter 12: Another ASI, bump up your Int again for more AC, Spells, and telekinesis.
19. Fighter 13: Thirteenth level fighters get a second use of Indomitable per long rest, and it's totally not because WotC was running out of ideas, no sir!
20. Fighter 14: Your capstone level is another ASI, which we'll use to get your bond CE thanks to Servo Crafting! You use Find Familiar as a ritual to create a little robot buddy who acts mostly like a normal familiar. Aside from that, you can see and speak through the servo as long as it's on the same plane, and you can ignore one of your own attacks to let the little buddy attack instead. Honestly this probably would have been more useful way earlier, but it's a bond CE, what did you expect?
Pros:
Your various forms of telekinesis give you a great deal of battlefield control, helping you manipulate the positions of enemies and allies to your advantage.
You also have great saves with two of the big three: dexterity and Constitution. Add on the fact that you can shut down the biggest problems caused by failed wisdom saves practically at will, and you're a big threat for magic users.
While your physically aren't great at burst damage like assassins or paladins, you make up for that with gobs of consistency and longevity in melee combat. You've got almost 200 HP, and an AC of 13 + your dexterity mod (4) and your intelligence mod (4). 21 AC in a hoodie is not bad at all!
Cons:
While you can shut off the worst of it, your Wisdom saves are atrocious, and will still cause you problems against illusions.
While it doesn't come into effect until very late into the build, the weirdness surrounding how your extra attacks mesh will have to be addressed eventually
Servo Crafting really doesn't do anything for your build. Not only is it not useful, if you were willing to get rid of it you could invest more into wizard levels and get Bigby's Hand for a real force choke.
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Abel the Asrai (slight lemon)
This was April’s patreon story, which I forgot to post here, my bad, folks. Looks like it’s going to be a double event this evening.
There is a particular taste to the mist swirling around the beach, salty, new, the earth so still that you feel like it’s… off. The water of the ocean gently laps at the sand, though the waves are barely anything more than a small, muted ripple. Neither animals or bugs make any calls, an eerie silence descending on the landscape, save for the noises you and your crewmates make as you pull the rowboat to shore.
Your legs are wet, right up to your thighs, boots sloshing with an uncomfortable amount of water as you finally make it to the edge of the land, the oddness of the atmosphere slowly crawling under your skin, making you nervous. Quietly, you let out a breath, then turn to your crew members. “Same as we talked about on the ship. Scout only for food, do not talk with anyone here without coming to me first. We don’t know who to trust.”
A small murmuring of yes, captain lets you know that they hear and understand, so you have everyone split up, directing each group a certain direction. You don’t need any of them getting lost, so no one is allowed to stray far from the coast, especially since this is an unknown island. Leaving two of your gunslingers alone to guard the little rowboat, you head closer to the edge of the foreboding forest, large, green trees rustling quietly when you approach. There, you see a thin dirt path leading into the dark, so you take the liberty of moving deeper into the island.
The battle with the navy has left your crew in nasty shape, you need to find something to put into their stomachs. Hungry personnel tends to lead to unpleasant situations, and you’d appreciate avoiding those until you can get your people back to base. You take a moment to sit, pulling your shoes off and letting the water slosh out, then slip them back on. It’s still uncomfortable, but better than doing nothing.
There’s a biting chill to the air, even though it should be midday. Still, only the barest hint of sunlight peeks out from the foggy air, showing you the vaguest outline of the path, and after a few more minutes of nothing, you’re tempted to call it quits and head back to the beach. If there is a village tucked firmly into the center of the island, it might be too much trouble for you to go looking for it.
Turning around, you almost run into a man.
And that is strange, because you’re typically very, very good at discerning when someone is sneaking up on you.
He’s not particularly remarkable looking in his dull-colored, nondescript clothing, with a hood pulled up to his forehead. And he’s staring at you, his eyes wide, like he’s looking at a ghost.
You realize that maybe, with your rugged, choppy appearance, gun on your holster, machete in hand, blood staining the shirt that you haven’t bothered changing since the battle, he might feel a little threatened. Slowly, you lower the weapon, giving him what you hope is a decently friendly smile. You don’t want him running off screaming to the navy, because then you’d have to kill him, and you’re awfully tired of taking lives today, so you try to reassure him that you mean no harm.
“Hey,” you speak softly.
He’s slim, taller than you, but visually soft, you know you’d be able to take him on if it comes to that. Slightly shakily, he folds his pale, slim fingers together, and you can see his brain processing what’s happening. “Hello.”
A strange, weird pause.
You clear your throat, trying not to make any sudden movements, “Hi, um, I was just looking around for some fresh water and food for me and my crew. We, uh,” you glance down at the hastily tied bandage on your arm that was already coming free, “hit a rough patch a few miles out.”
“You’re human,” he says, almost in awe.
“Last I checked,” you say, trying not to sound too impatient.
“Is your crew human, too?” He asks,
“For the most part,” you say, slowly, “yes.”
He looks downright fascinated over that revelation, and before you have a chance to prod further, says, “you have a ship?”
You bristle, but do not sense any sort of malice coming from him. No, just a disturbing amount of… excitement, and that somehow also worries you. “Yes,” you say, slowly, not wanting to get into too much detail.
“Do you charter people?” He asks.
Ah, you see where this is going. “For the right price.”
He pauses, a bit of wind blown out of his sails. “What price are you seeking?”
“Gold, preferably. I’m willing to barter, though.” You look him up and down, more closely, eyes narrowed. What kind of person would need a sudden departure, and on that thought, what’s he even doing out here looking like some kind of… fancy vagrant?
“We would have to leave now,” he says, with a tone of urgency in his voice, “if I return for money, someone might suspect me of leaving.”
“So there is a village around here,” you say, turning around to see if you can find any hints of civilization. “Can you point me in their direction?”
“You don’t want to go there,” he says, frantic. “There’s a stigma against humans- you wouldn’t be welcome.”
“Why not.”
“All outsiders are… um, forbidden.”
There’s something else, something that you’re suspicious about. You don’t know what it is, yet, but you’re willing to indulge him in the idea that you’ll let him on your ship, even without knowing a lick about him. “Fine, what can you offer for me to give you safe passage?”
“I- uh,” he’s thinking now, brow furrowed, and you’re almost showing your impatience as he wastes your time. “I can… do stuff. On the ship, I mean.”
“Give me your hands,” you say impatiently, looking over his smooth, blemishless skin. “You’ve never worked a day in your life, have you?”
“I’m a fast learner,” he says, almost indignantly.
“I’m certain,” you say dryly, not entirely believing him, “but learning fast doesn’t mean you’re physically capable of work.”
He stares down at his hands like he’s never been so impossibly inconvenienced in his life by his own self. Another moment passes, still startling silent, and you’re just about to move around him before he says, quietly, “I can make clean water.”
You stop.
“Clean water, you say,” you muse, crossing your arms.
“Yes,” he sees that you’re listening, and that seems to get his hopes up. “Drinking water, straight from almost anything liquid.”
You mull the possibility over. No, it’s not unheard of, but it’s an incredibly rare trait that usually lands people with the ability one only the best, high paying ships, and that’s a luxury you and your scrappy crew can’t afford. Charting someone only on the promise of clean water? Unheard of. Most ships pay those who can travel with them.
“Okay,” you say slowly, “let’s say that you can- which is something you’ll have to prove before I let you on my ship. Where do you want to go?”
“Anywhere but here.”
He’s desperate, which means that you can take advantage of that. Not too much, though, the last thing you need is an angry member of your crew capable of poisoning everyone with the one thing necessary for basic survival.
“Fine.” You gesture for him to follow you. “We’ll test your skills on the shore, then, if it’s satisfactory, we’ll discuss your end of the deal.”
He seems remarkably happy, following almost uncomfortably close as you make your way back through the forest. Luckily for you, it seems that most of the scouting groups have also made their way to the rowboat, most of their hands empty. The moment you’re within their eyeshot, you see them tense, eyes piercing the figure behind you, both you hold your hands up to communicate that there’s nothing to worry about.
Two of your best scouts have arms full of large, leafy greens, which you suppose probably would taste unfortunately horribly bitter, but will at least keep some of you going. The cook is known for their miracles, anyway, so they might be able to do something with it.
“Is this all?” You ask, struggling to hide your disappointment.
“It’s what we could find without venturing too far into the forest, captain, but…” your scout eyes the newcomer, “it seems that there’s a village.”
“One where we will be unwelcome to, according to him,” you say vaguely, though you’re giving them the same amount of information that you know. “But the good news is that he claims to be able to purify water, and he’ll do it in exchange for safe passage to our destination.”
There’s a shifting ripple moving through your crew, and you don’t blame them because that’s a tall fucking claim. To prove it, though, you take a couple dozen sloshing steps into the ocean, tugging him along, until the both of you are waist-deep in water.
“Do it,” you demand, glancing back at your crew to make sure they’re watching.
“Um,” he shifts, eyeing your crew nervously. “Is there something I can put the water in?”
At your hard stare, everyone pats their pockets down, but no one was holding an empty flask or stray goblet for him to use, so with a defeated sigh, he cups his hands, settling it below the surface of the mirror-like surface of the ocean. His eyes are closed in concentration as he raises his arms back up, and a soft, warm blue glow slowly illuminates his fingers as whatever magic he uses cleanses the salt and infection. After a moment, his eyes open again, and the glow is gone, and a puddle of perfectly clear water in his hands.
Oh, right. You’re going to have to test this.
“Christ,” you mutter, raising his hands to your lips and sip. The water is cold, despite the heat rising to your face, and go figure, absolutely no trace of salt. Calmly, you take another sip from his hands, letting the water swish around in your mouth for a moment, just to be sure. Then, as a precaution to make certain he’s not fucking with you, you dip two of your fingers into the sea and lick. Augh, yes, that’s salty as hell, there’s no way that he can pull a fast one on you like this. You turn to your comrades. “It’s clean.”
“So we let him onboard?” One of your navigators asks.
“Yeah, we’ll put him to work filtering out clean water.” As you say this, you notice the last of your scouts approaching, though they are empty-handed for a few roots and such. “Everyone, get onto the rowboat.”
He seems pleased, at least, but not the kind of smug pleased that you loathe. Like he’s deeply relieved, as though you’ve saved him from some horrendous fate. He sits, almost primly, in the center of the boat as you and the rest of your crew work to move back from the island.
Steadily, inevitably, the waves slowly kick back up, as though slowly breaking through a damn, and the mist of the island recedes to reveal a bright, blue, almost cloudless sky. The fog hangs over the island like a thick, viscous shield, obscuring anything within from passing sailors. No one sane would want to attempt to traverse such an unmappable area unless they’re ridiculously desperate, like you.
He’s tugging at his hood, pushing it back as the sun begins to radiate down harder, and you don’t blame him. Without going back to get anything else to wear, he’s unfortunately overdressed for the grueling work you plan to put him through. The energy he’ll have to output is ridiculously high, especially to keep up with the demands of a full ship and its crew, even more so because a portion of your freshwater barrels had been spilled and toppled by the cannon fire.
Your ship is in bad shape, it’s easy to see the damage as the rowboat approaches, burn marks along the wood marking where some dicks from the navy went ahead and tossed over some flaming cocktails. Glancing over at your new passenger to gauge his reaction, he seems none the wiser about the seemingly dire state of everything, and instead looks over at you, a spark of unrecognizable joy in his eyes.
Once all of you are on the deck, you have one of your crew fill a bucket full of seawater, then direct your newcomer to clean, so they all see. So long as they understand that he has a vital part to play, they’ll be less likely to give him the almost ritualistic hazing that most new, low-end recruits end up saddled with. However, even as your best navigator takes her first sip of water, you know that they’re still going to rag on him.
“He can sleep with the rest of the crew,” you say in passing, waving in his general direction.
“Did you make an official deal?” Your second asks, their brow furrowed.
“Not yet, but he seems willing and able to filter water. I figure once we get to our destination, he can either stay on as a crewmember as long as he wants, or leave once we reach the ports.”
“I can write up an airtight contract,” your second offers. “He looks fae, he should be biologically required to adhere to it.”
You look over at him, and you find that your second is right. Long, pointed ears extend out from his neatly braided hair, his eyes are just a tad too large and innocent-seeming for someone roughly your age. His odd fascination towards your species makes you wonder if he’s seen your kind before.
“That’ll be great.”
The injured are not in exceptional shape, but with clean water, at least, gives them a much better chance to make it through than otherwise. As he helps you haul a few buckets down to the lower deck, you ask, knowing full well the fae’s common abhorrence towards names, “is there something you want to be called by?”
He thinks it over for a moment. “You said something earlier, that I was… um, willing, and able?”
“Yes?”
His movements are smooth and graceful, his posture so perfect that you wonder where he learned it. “I like those words. Willing?”
“Um, what about Abel?” You suggest instead, placing the buckets down on a table.
Those bright, brilliantly blue eyes become unfocused, if only for a moment. “Yes,” he says, faintly, “Abel will do nicely.”
Your crew is slow to trust him, and you hardly blame them. There’s something just… a tad bit uncanny about him and his behavior, the way he stares at things, unblinkingly, for just a little longer than necessary, how his long, slender fingers feel out the textures of things he touches, as though he’s experiencing those things for the very first time, and how he seems to always just happen to be in the same room as you, all the time. Your only reprieve from him is your own private quarters, where no one is allowed to go unless specifically invited.
A rule he breaks within the first couple of days.
You find him standing over your dresser with a bucket of water, his eyes brightening when he sees you enter. After letting out a frustrated breath, you strip off your coat, tossing it senselessly onto your bed, and unbutton the top of your shirt. “Abel, you’re not supposed to come into the captain’s quarters unless specifically invited.”
“Oh,” he says, as though this is the first he hears about it (it’s not), “well, I filtered the water for you, as requested.”
You wait. He doesn’t move.
“Thank you,” you say, begrudgingly, “you can leave it outside the door next time.”
“It might get tipped over, then I’d have to start from scratch.” A pause, then. “And I’m getting a bit fatigued from doing this all the time.”
“Alright, fine,” you allow, knowing that water purifying is a demanding chore and that you’ve been pushing him harder than he’s likely ever been before, “you can bring it straight to my quarters.”
Seemingly satisfied, he leaves, and you give yourself the sponge bath once you make sure the door is locked tight. Your hair is choppily cut and always away from your face, though you don’t spare much care to it beyond the occasional brushing. Your goal for sponge bathing is usually only dedicated to making sure everything isn’t rotting from lack of amenities, being at sea and exposed to the grimy elements can leave a body feeling… gross, for lack of a better term. Every time you dock somewhere, you take a full day for yourself to clean... everything up.
Every day, right after dusk, he’s waiting in your room with a bucket of water. You don’t even know how he gets in, you’re very good at remembering to lock your door when you’re not in there. When you ask about it, sullenly, he smiles and gently reminds you that you’ve given him permission to leave the water when he’s done purifying it.
Then Abel asks to wash your hair for you.
You’re so caught off guard by the offer that it takes you a moment to fully process what he said. “I’m sorry, you’d like to what?”
“I’d like to wash your hair if you’d like,” he says, “I know how.”
You have to mull it over, like with most of his downright bizarre requests. “You’d like to wash my hair. And you know how.”
“Yes,” Abel nods, “with the powdery stuff. Back home, I would get my hair washed by- uh, and it felt nice.”
You conveniently don’t mention the part where he skipped over who specifically washed his hair, and cross your arms over your chest. “And why exactly are you interested in doing that for me?”
“It’s a relaxing experience, and you look stressed.”
“Really.” You don’t believe that’s it. “And no other reason.”
“I mean, not in a bad kind of stress,” he’s backtracking now, “you’re not shambling around like the undead or anything, but this might help you with everything else.”
You give it a moment of thought, trying to come up with every single reason he might have for sidling up close to you. Does he want better rations? A cut of the bounty? Less water duty? You narrow your eyes and look him up and down, wondering if the place he comes from has the same set of you work hard to earn rules and that he can’t just flirt his way into a better position.
Maybe you can give him this lesson the hard way.
“Fine,” you wave your hand, sitting in front of your desk. “You can wash my hair.”
He smiles, wide, but not threateningly, more… happy? Satisfied? Pulling the bucket closer to his position as he comes back behind the chair, and runs his fingers through your hair, once. “You’re quite tense, captain.”
It’s a struggle for you to relax, your jaw usually tightly gritted, shoulders tense, and ready to fight. Still, though, you don’t think that Abel would try to do anything, even with the clause in the contract forbidding him to hurt anyone in your crew, including you. Quietly, you lean back in your chair, stretching your neck as you look up to the ceiling, hands tightly gripped on the armrests, your breathing calm and controlled as he begins.
Abel’s fingers run through your hair, soft, but firm, nails gently scratching at your scalp. It feels good, despite the fact that you’re not so sure if you enjoy this show of intimacy, but you don’t voice complaints. It’s been a while since your hair got such a thorough washing, and he seems to know what he’s doing. Section by section, he works, parting your roots away, rubbing the baking soda in with the pads of his thumbs in soft, swirling motions.
Slowly but steadily, he works his fingers down your head, his knuckles brushing against the nape of your neck. Shivers run through your spine, an odd feeling churning in your stomach. The coolness of the water as he begins to rinse your hair gives you something else to focus on other than his closeness.
You try to get your voice to work, if only to think about anything but how his skin feels against yours. “Why did you want to come with us?”
He pauses, his entire body seemingly just stopping, fingers still tangled in your hair.
“If it’s because of something bad, we likely won’t care,” you try to prod, “most of us are murderers and thieves, anyway.”
“I-” his movements resume as he struggles for the words, “I didn’t want to get married.”
“Oh, that’s it?” The shadiness of his actions made you think that he committed patricide or something, not escaping an arranged marriage. “Half of my crew are dodging familial obligations, too. My second was almost sold off to a man with six wives.”
“I just couldn’t go through with it,” he’s almost defensive, though you suppose he wasn’t expecting such an anticlimactic reaction, “I didn’t even like my fiance… don’t get me wrong, she was a nice girl, but she was so-” he fumbles for the word, “dry.”
Your hairbrush isn’t something that you use beyond a couple of swipes in your hair, but Abel takes his time with it. Almost moving strand by strand, he makes his way from one end of your scalp to the other, brushing out any remnants of grease and powder, dipping your hair in water every so often to keep it soaking wet.
“There must have been an easier way for you to leave,” you say.
“None with such ease and without the high likelihood of getting caught,” he clears his throat, “I saw my chance for escape and took it.”
“That’s understandable,” you say, closing your eyes for a moment. “Are you happy with your decision?”
There’s a pause, telling you that he’s actually thinking over your question. “Work is difficult, but,” he adds quietly, “I prefer it to being an idle husband.”
You’re silent, thinking over his statement. “I can understand that. The life of a field worker wasn’t quite for me, either.”
He waits until your hair is all the way brushed out, then wraps a cloth around it to absorb the water. “May I do this again?”
Again, your suspicion flares. “Why?”
“Because I enjoy your company… and you don’t seem to pay me much mind when I’m with the other crew.”
“Jealous?” You ask, mostly joking.
“Very,” he says, and you’re not sure if he’s serious or not. “Sometimes I just want you all to myself.”
“I… suppose if you’d like to.”
“Good,” he says, “I get bored with nothing more than the water for company.”
You’re standing, rubbing the cloth into your locks to help it dry faster. “Do none of my crew interact with you?”
“I don’t think they trust me… even with the contract.”
You let out an impatient huff. “I’m sorry about that, they’ll warm up to you eventually. Or we’ll hit land first, and you’re free to go.”
There’s a long, drawn out pause before he agrees, “right.”
Washing your hair every single day would result in in you getting sick of how close Abel wants to be with you every time he does it, and would leave your hair dry and brittle. The powder is suitable for sucking up the oily grease that permeates your scalp after a few days, and it’s good for a complete purge once it gets out of control, but definitely shouldn’t be used regularly. Still, he makes sure that it’s a weekly event, and every Thursday evening, he’s in your room, bucket on your desk.
You figure out quickly that he doesn’t like talking about himself. He instead seems entirely focused on you, your life as a pirate, and before, though he answers your questions in that odd, monotone voice he uses when he’s not enjoying himself. Abel also struggles to acclimate into your crew, as most of them aren’t readily accepting passengers who plan on flouncing off the moment you hit land. However, he doesn’t seem to give any indication that he is planning on leaving. So you ask him outright.
“What are you going to do when we dock on land?” You ask as he slowly works his fingers into your hair.
“What do you mean?”
“Are you going to stay on as a member of my crew, or are you going to leave?”
He stops for a moment, all you can hear are the ripples from the water bucket as the ship slowly makes its way up and down with the waves, and his breathing.
“Are you okay?” You ask, peeping your neck a bit to get a look at him.
“I’m fine,” he reassures you, getting back to work, “I didn’t realize that I had an invite to continue on as a water purifier.”
“Oh, I guess I should have mentioned it more concretely before.” You lean back again, closing your eyes. “You’ve done more than adequate work, Abel, you’re more than welcome to stay on board and receive a cut of our bounty.”
“Really?” He asks like he can’t believe it.
“I’ll have to have my second draft up another contract, but yeah, Abel, you can stay if you’d like.”
“Say my name again,” he says, and you can hear a smile behind those words.
“What, Abel? Why?”
He lets out a satisfied sigh. “I just like it when you use my name. It sounds nice with your voice.”
You try not to snort. “Okay, whatever you say.”
Silently, he continues to work, as he usually does, parting your hair into neat little sections, going over them with a few pinches of baking soda, letting his nails gently scratch at your scalp. You’d never admit it to anyone, much less Abel, but you do feel better after each of your little sessions together, whether that be because of the cleanliness, or because of the company, you’re still having an internal war with yourself over.
A part of you doesn’t really want to admit that you’ve let him get under your skin, that you’ve started to care, because you’re not supposed to show favoritism towards any single person within your crew, but unfortunately… unfortunately it seems that he’s growing on you, rapidly, like mold on room temperature meat that’s been left out for a few days.
“I saw you flirting with your second in command,” he says, quietly, “are you and she together?”
You wrinkle your nose. “Juliet? No, she’s great and all, but not my type. We were just joking around.”
“What about that navigator?”
“Which navigator?”
“The one with the puffy black hair.”
“Oh, you mean Alexander,” you resist rolling your eyes, “he and I are just friends.”
“What about the-”
“Are you going to go down the list of my crew members to see if I’m in a relationship with them?” You ask, almost sourly, wondering what’s gotten into him.
“Are you? In a relationship, I mean.”
You sit up, out of his reach, your wet hair dripping and soaking into your shirt. “What does it matter?”
He’s trying not to look flustered, but there’s a telling blush in his dusty blue skin. “I was just wondering, out of curiosity. You seem- uh-”
“I seem what?”
“Nothing.”
“No, tell me. I seem like what?”
“Like someone who can have whoever they want, when they want.” He says, almost sheepishly.
“Who, me?” You think he’s joking, he has to be joking, but his kind cannot lie.
He’s even more flustered now, backpedaling so hard he might snap his proverbial neck. “I just mean- um- you have this aura of confidence, captain, it exudes from you, and I thought that you might currently be… well, involved with someone.”
You squint at him, trying to see where he’s taking this. “So what? Does it matter if I’m involved or not?”
“No- no, of course not, stop looking at me like that, it was a stupid question.”
You settle back down, a tad bit tenser than you were before, though mostly from being caught off-guard by his question. Feeling like someone’s swept your legs from under you, verbal or otherwise, is uncomfortable, you never like it when someone has the upper hand. So, in the same fashion, but more casually, you ask, “what about you? Besides your fiance, have you seen anyone?”
“Not… particularly.”
“Hm, not particularly?” You do the thing where you take where the conversation is going and get there twice as fast to regain control of the situation. “No one caught your eye? You’re not allowed to take any lovers?”
“Not before-” he mumbles, something you can’t hear.
“What was that?” You ask innocently.
“That was a no.”
“Was it,” you smile serenely, “because it sounded like something about your wedding night?”
Abel sounds like he wants to throw himself into the sea. “I can’t... until the wedding night.”
“Who told you that you couldn’t have sex until the wedding night? What’d they say would happen? Hairy hands? That’s a myth, you know.” God, it never crossed your mind that he might never have been intimate before, especially with how fixated he seemed on you as if you might be his next conquest. Not his first. That definitely changes things.
The massaging slowly comes to a stop. “Where I’m from,” Abel says, slowly, “they have ways of making certain that it happens.”
You almost choke on your own spit. “I’m sorry, they have what?”
“They have ways of guaranteeing purity until the marriage night.” His voice is soft, but gruff, as though he’d rather be anywhere but here.
“That- that is so awful,” you feel pity, yes, but also empathy for a story that you’ve heard before- if in less extreme circumstances, but you’re suddenly overcome with your desire to solve other people’s problems in the hopes it might help fix yours (it never does). “Do you remember the direct wording of the curse?”
“I can’t forget it.” He sounds tired, like he’s had this conversation before. “I cannot feel the euphoria while in someone else.”
“You can’t feel euphoria while inside someone else? That’s it, exactly?”
“Well, no, I cannot… spill, inside someone.” He sounds even more sheepish than before, his voice so quiet you almost don’t hear.
“That’s all?” You ask, frowning. “You can’t spill while inside someone else, but can someone else spill inside you?”
“No.” He says quietly.
“Alright,” it doesn’t take you too much of you to fully process and work to come to a new solution, “but if someone doesn’t spill inside you,” you try not to grimace at the language used, “can you… um, spill so long as you’re not inside anyone? Like touching yourself?”
He mumbles something, you take it as a soft yes.
“If someone enters you without spilling, do you think you might be able to try… um, the whatever?”
“I don’t know.” He looks like he hadn’t thought of it before. “Perhaps? But how would that happen?”
“Alrighty, then,” you try not to feel the heat in your cheeks, “have you ever heard about pegging?”
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Anonymous:
Do you have any advice on how to start an rp blog? I feel like there's so much to do and so many specific things, it looks intimidating, but I really want to get into it (and your blog seems like a safe space to ask as a baby in the matter)
Hi! Thanks you for asking and for trusting. I do admit that rping on tumblr can look daunting and there is a series of things that are considered “etiquette” that might not be obvious for newcomers. And the only way to learn is to ask, right?
As I’m not sure if you would like something more specific or a step-by-step, I’m going to go through the whole process.
note: this is a repost from an ask in a more reblog-friendly format
1. Setting up the blog
You might want to make a new e-mail account for each blog you want. I recommend making a gmail/google account, so you may be able to use other services and associate them with your blog. I’ll go into more details in a minute.
Some people would rather have a personal blog and then making the RP blog as a side-blog. Or a “hub” blog and many side-blogs so they have everything centralized. The downside is that you can’t follow people with side-blogs, only the main – and some rpers are a little suspicious of personal blogs, so if you intend to go this route it might be a good idea to state somewhere in your blog that you have a RP blog.
Tip : It isn’t said too often, but I recommend saving your blog’s e-mail and password somewhere, maybe a flashdrive or even google drive. This way, if something happens you will be able to retrieve your account.
When picking the URL, for a very long time tumblr had problems tagging URLs with a hyphen ( - ). I’m not sure if it has been fixed or if there are still some issues, so I recommend only using letters and maybe numbers. Other than that, pick anything that sounds nice to you!
Themes are nice, but not entirely necessary. Not everybody has photoshop skills and all that. Some people do have commissioned themes, but if you want to try your hand at it my first stop is usually @theme-hunter or @sheathemes . They reblog many themes from many creators, so there are always many options that might suit your needs. Some creators offer very newcomer-friendly themes that you can configure a lot of things without much hassle but some might require basic HTML knowledge – a few creators have guides on how to properly set up their themes and are willing to and answer questions, so don’t be afraid to contact them! You can also send me an ask, I’m not a specialist but I can certainly help walk you through the basics.
Tip: @glenthemes have very good themes and a basic installation guide here.
When fiddling with the options, try to pick colors that have nice contrast and are easy to read. If you are bad at picking colors or have problems in finding the code for them, I recommend trying this link. There is also this one that auto-generate palettes.
Tip : If you mess with your theme, remember there is the Theme Recovery.
Tip: If you use Chrome or Firefox you can set up different profiles and associate each with a different blog, so you don’t need to log out from any of your accounts.
There are two pages that I recommend having: one is an about your muse. If they are an OC, it is always a good idea to have at least some information out there to make things easier. If they are from a canon source, not everybody is familiar with the material so it might be a good idea to state. For example, if you are going to roleplay as Altria/Arturia, it is a good idea to have a “RP blog for Saber (Altria Pendragon) from FGO/FSN “ somewhere visible.
The other page that is a good idea having is a rules/guidelines page. This one can be a little intimidating, but it is usually a way to communicate important things. For example: are you comfortable writing violence? Do you have any personal triggers? There is something you absolutely won’t write? There are things you may figure out along the way and it is absolutely ok to fine-tune this session every now and then.
Some people also credit source for their icons and graphics in general in their rule/guideline page.
If you are using the tumblr default themes, when you create a new page you can turn on the option to show a link to the page. If you are using a custom theme, most of the time you will have to link it manually.
Oh, and if you are planning to do a multimuse, it might be a good idea to list which muses you have. The same goes for a hub blog; list the muses and link to the pages.
Icons aren’t necessary but are considered commonplace. You can find some icons I’ve done here but there are plenty of other sources. If you want to do your own icons, keep in mind to don’t make them too big, as a courtesy to your mutuals.
Tip: Anything larger than 300 pixels will be stretched to fit the post.
As of today ( 4/29/2021 ) the posts are currently 540 pixels wide. This can be useful as making banners for your blog.
Tumblr allow users to “pin” posts. This mean that they will always visible if you access your blog, even on dash/mobile. You can use this to set up a post with basic links for mobile users or something else. For example, if you are out on vacations and won’t be able to do replies, you can pin a hiatus notice and then remove the pin once you are back.
2. Introducing yourself
Time to officially join the fun!
(insert a “Hi, Zuko here” joke)
Don’t worry if you don’t have a fancy promo graphic or anything, most people make their initial introduction with a simple post.
(as you can see, I’m not very good at saying ‘hi’)
Try to introduce yourself in a few lines, but make sure to state which muse you RP as. Some people also like adding their pen name/alias and establishing a brand. Follow as many people as you want that reblogged or liked your post, and tumblr is going to start recommending other blogs that are related to the tags you use normally or have any relation to the people you follow.
You can put as many tags as you want, but tumblr will disregard more than 6 tags in their system. Try tags like “<fandom> rp” and “<fandom> roleplay” along with the media, such as “movie” “video game”, “anime” and so on.
It might also be a good idea to follow a few RP memes blogs. They often have options to break the ice, like one-liners that your mutual can send you.
Tip: Don’t forget to turn on the asks and the anon
3. Practical advice
Alright, now that you have a few mutuals, it is time to get to some general tips:
Tumblr can be a little “iffy”, and a great quality of life extension for RPers and navigation in general is installing the New Xkit extension. They offer a number of options to enhance your tumblr experience, but the ones I consider essential are the “editable reblogs”, “quick tags” and “blacklist”. Get it for Chrome or Firefox.
As a rule of thumb I recommend writing your RPs using Google Docs before posting or replying. By doing this you can do some spell check and if your browser crashes for any reason you can easily recover your work. You can also use Word, Open Office, or any text editor you feel like.
Because I’m a bit of a perfectionist, I also have Grammarly ( Chrome / Firefox ) installed for an extra layer of spell/grammar check. There is a subscription option, but the free one works perfectly fine.
To make things easier to locate, always tag the URL of your RP partner when doing a reply. There are other useful things you can tag, such as open starters, memes, and such.
Risking being obvious here, but when you are not interacting as your character it might be a good idea to tag as “ooc” or “out of character”.
Some people like making google docs with basic info and other useful stuff for easier access on mobile. It is a recent trend, it might be easier to edit as opposed to going through tumblr page editor and dealing with the HTML. You can find some templates here and here.
Tumblr’s activity can be unreliable, so don’t be afraid of contacting your partner to see if they have gotten your reply after a few weeks. However, some people also enjoy using the RP Thread Tracker in order to be on top of things. It might be a good idea to check it out.
Because of Tumblr shadowbanning and shenanigans, it isn’t unusual for people to have NSFW sideblogs (sometimes referred as ‘sin blogs’). If you want to write smut, it might be a good idea to consider making one.
Some people don’t like replying to asks, as Tumblr won’t let you remove the initial ask. It has become common to see people making new posts to reply to asks. This is a simple example:
As you can see, I used the mention to have the RP partner notified then I copied and pasted their question on my post and used the quote to indicate it. You can also have fancy graphics, like a line to separate the contents, just do whatever you feel like with the formatting or keep it simple.
To make sure your partner got the answer, I recommend copying the link to the post and pasting on the ask and then replying it privately. An example sent to my rp blog:
4. Basic Etiquette
Ok, this is a little subjective most of the time but here are a few things that are considered universal courtesy.
Never reblog someone else’s headcanons. If you enjoy it, maybe it should politely contact the author and ask if it is ok to write something based on their original idea but you should never downright copy or lift something from another creator. It is considered rude, or even theft in some cases.
Don’t reblog threads you are not involved with. It is ok to leave a like, but never reblog. This is because Tumblr can mess up the notifications and disrupt the flow of the RP.
Don’t copy other people’s graphics. It is very rude and sometimes they commission (aka: paid) for it.
Trim your posts. What does that mean? Every time you reblog with a reply, the post tends to get longer and longer, and it can cluster your and your mutuals’ dashes. This is why the New X-Kit’s “editable reblogs” is an almost must-have tool. If for some reason you can’t install X-Kit (if you are on mobile for example), then remove the previous post or ask your partner to trim for you.
Never take control of your RP partner’s muse. This is called “godmodding” and it is heavily frowned upon. It is ok to control your muse and the possible NPCs that you inserted, but never seize someone else’s character. Likewise, it can also be very upsetting if you use what people call “meta-gaming”, applying knowledge that your muse shouldn’t know about the other. For example, let’s say your RP partner’s muse is a vampire, but they have never disclosed that information to your muse, who also doesn’t have an excuse to know that (for example, being a vampire hunter) so it can be quite jarring sometimes. When in doubt, contact your partner.
This should go without saying, but RPing sexual themes with users under the age of 18 are illegal. It doesn’t matter if the age of consent in your location is lower, once you join Tumblr you are abiding by their user guidelines and the law of the state they are located in. If you are an adult, don’t engage minors with these topics, maybe a fade to black would be a better option. If you are a minor, don’t insist or you might cause a lot of legal problems for others.
Try to tag anything triggering. Violence, gore, NSFW. Both Tumblr and the New Xkit have options to block keywords.
When picking PSDs or graphics for your blog, you should avoid templates that change the color of the skin of POCs muses and try to pick the right race/ethnicity of the muse you are going to RP as. I won’t go through a lot of details, as it is a rather lengthy subject in an already lengthy conversation but keep this in the back of your mind.
Some RPers don’t like when you reblog memes from them without sending anything. Try to always reblog from a source or to interact with the person you are reblogging from, it can be rather disheartening to be seen as a meme source rather than a RP blog. This isn’t a rule and some people don’t mind, but it is always a good idea to try to do this.
This might be more of a pet peeve of mine than proper etiquette, but it is ok to use small font. What is not ok is use small font + underscript. Some people have disabilities that might make it harder for them to read it, so it might be a good idea to refrain from using it. Maybe if you feel like doing something fancier every now and then, but I wouldn’t recommend making this a habit.
Mun and Muse are different entities. Remember that it isn’t because a muse does something (especially a villain one) that the mun condones something. Never assume anything about the mun, when in doubt talk to them.
Be mindful of your partners and treat them the way you would like to be treated.
As a rule of thumb, always talk to your RP partner. It is only fun as long both of you are enjoying it.
5. Closing Words
This got longer than I expected.
Despite all of that, don’t be too worried about not being very good at first. I assure you that you will get better with time, so don’t be afraid of experimenting as long you feel comfortable. And don’t be afraid of saying “no” if something bothers you.
My inbox is always open to questions and ideas, so feel free to contact me anytime!
I would also ask my followers: there is advice I missed/overlooked? Anything you would like someone have told you when you first started? Add your thoughts so I can update this.
Happy RPing!
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Mini-Review: Love, Chunibyo & Other Delusions!
I’m so glad @littlestartopaz recommended this to me, because it was SO GOOD.
Yuta wants to start high school afresh: new school far from home, new classmates who don’t know he spent middle school acting out the fantasy of being the mysterious and magic “Dark Flame Master,” new him. But one of his classmates has delusions of her own, and after she accidentally discovers his embarrassing past, Yuta is unwillingly drawn into her life and a growing circle of friends with their own quirks.
The “chunibyo” of the title basically means “8th grade syndrome;” a phase in middle school where some kids inhabit and act out their own fantasy stories, positing themselves as dark magicians, magical girls, and other wielders of magical powers.
I had avoided this for a while, until it was specifically recommended to me, because honestly, it sounds embarrassing, right? It sounds like it’s gonna be an embarrassing manic pixie dream girl scenario. But what it actually contains is the story of how a mixed bag of students--some actively chunibyo, others not--become friends and develop very endearing close relationships, while arguing and frustrating each other because that’s what friends do.
Now, the idea of being the star of what’s essentially your own fantasy-action anime is embarrassing, but what’s notable is that the show doesn’t really hold the chunibyo characters up for mockery. Sure we might laugh at them, but hey--it’s funny to watch friends be silly together. And most viewers, just like some of the characters who have moved on from their chunibyo phases, probably easily understand the mix of soul-wrenching embarrassment and (mild?) fond sentiment that comes with remembering our middle school selves.
But let’s be real: the reactions the two former chunibyo students, Yuta and Shinka have to being reminded of middle school, are #RELATABLE
Rikka, our title chunibyo, in particular uses her fantasy in part to cope with grief, coming from an extended family that (without getting spoilery) didn’t help a young girl to deal with a very hard and life-changing time. Now that she’s in high school, her older sister blackmails Yuta (using an a voice recording of one of his chunibyo speeches) into helping deal with Rikka and things (like the cat she wants to adopt) that pop up.
One thing the show is very good at, though, is not making a single thing the reason behind a character’s chunibyo. One may have started their fantasy inspired by another person, or prompted by an event, but it’s also (while active) part of their personal narrative that influences how they spent their free time, how they see the world and keep blogs or diaries, etc.
But at the same time, they’re still teenagers, and their inner view of themselves...doesn’t always translate skills.
I said the show is primarily about friendship. A lot of that friendship is between Yuta and Rikka, but they accumulate a little group, mainly through Rikka’s attempt to start a magic club. Recruit 1: Kumin, a polite, quiet senpai with no chunibyo history or aspirations.
Kumin starts off seeming like a background character, but by the second season it’s clear she’s not just there for jokes about how she’ll take a nap anywhere. She’s perceptive, and genuinely enjoys watching the others act out their scenarios.
Compared to the other characters who are boisterous in their chunibyo activities (Rikka, Deko, Satone), or vociferously trying not to get drawn in to chunibyo activities (Yuta, Shinka), Kumin is happy to watch and offer encouragement, but she’s also willing to participate if a chunibyo scenario calls for a group.
Incidentally, the show does a really interesting thing where occasionally, we’ll be drawn “inside” the chunibyo world, seeing what Rikka/Deko/whoever see: a fantasy land, big magical weapons, anime-grade magical attacks. Occasionally we’ll also see what this “really” looks like--a couple people running around waving umbrellas at each other--but often we only get the fantasy version. It’s clear that Rikka and co. are legitimately on some level engaging in a shared imagination, and the times when a reluctant character (particularly Yuta or Shinka) willing steps in to the shared illusion are genuinely sweet.
Speaking of, Shinka (aka Morisummer) became one of my favorite characters. Like Yuta, she was chunibyo (”Morisummer the magician”); like Yuta, she chose a high school where she didn’t know anyone expressly so she could reinvent herself as a normal teen. And like Yuta, she’s getting dragged kicking and screaming into chunibyo again.
It would’ve been so easy to make her a bad character. She’s pretty, puts a lot of effort into being popular and likable at school, trying to keep up a good teen girl image, despite being fairly sarcastic at her core. And as loathe as she is to admit it, she likes her friends (even if she won’t admit they’re friends, even if half of them are actively chunibyo, even if she says she’s only hanging around so she can make sure all traces of chunibyo-Morisummer are erased from the internet).
Shinka gets drawn in to the group through Rikka’s apparently only pre-existing friend: Deko, a fellow chunibyo who follows Rikka (or “Eye of the Wicked Lord Shingan”) as her master, and is extremely devoted to the great magician Morisummer. So devoted, in fact, that she has several physical copies of Morisummer’s book containing all her wisdom...aka Shinka-Morisummer’s blog, which Shinka has tried to erase all trace of.
Needless to say, the two don’t seem to get along great.
Deko’s dedication to chunibyo and Morisummer irks Shinka; Shinka’s claim to be Morisummer irks Deko, who refuses to believe the great magician could ever be this sarcastic, mundane girl. Deko’s refusal irks Shinka, bringing out the sarcasm and bluntness Shinka tries to hide from the school at large.
Obviously, they actually become close friends, but heaven help you if you actually say so.
The entire series is an exploration of relationships, and Yuta’s developing closeness with Rikka (hey, we knew it was going to happen) is also sweet. He’s a genuinely likable boy, embarrassed by the vestiges of his former self he sees in Rikka, but often willing to meet her on her level, and both of them also learn/reaffirm the importance of doing things their way, and keeping both of them comfortable, rather than acting a certain way or performing specific acts just because their classmates think their relationship status mandates it.
Speaking of classmates--and I know this is getting long but I CAN’T HELP IT, I LIKED SO MANY ASPECTS OF THIS SERIES--the characters aren’t ridiculed at school. Sure, some people think they’re weird, but there’s no shunning, no arc involving teasing or bullies. Rikka’s often content as a loner, but when she attempts to join in a social circle, she’s welcomed. Shinka’s obsessed with reinventing herself and appearing normal and seems to think that otherwise she’ll be cast out, but multiple characters mention that others at the school notice how she behaves (oddly, on occasion) and there are no social repercussions. Truly nice for a show that has characters spending quite a lot of time in school.
Verdict
English dub? Yes, and it’s got strong performances. Rikka’s voice actor in particular does a fantastic job capturing the difference between chunibyo!Rikka’s confidence and command, and regular!Rikka’s, well, normal awkward teenageness. (Plus, I also found her lower-than animegirl-average voice enjoyable.) (Double plus, I honestly think her English voice is better than her original Japanese voice at showing the difference between her emotions and chunibyo/reality.) Deko’s VA is fantastic showing the enthusiasm of the 9th grader (and what enthusiasm, Deko is like the Energizer Bunny), and Shinka’s VA manages to show her alternating annoyance, cheerfully sweet ideal self, and organizized leader voices.
Visuals: Fine, and I really liked the chunibyo designs for each character’s chunibyo phase. The contrast between chunibyo-vision (giant magic weapons; mysterious lights, fantasy landscapes) and reality (an umbrella or soup ladle; a strip of lights taped to the floor; a local park) was really well done.
Worth watching? Yessss. It’s very manageable--two 12-episode seasons--and while each season contains its own arc (you could stop after the first one, but why), together they make an excellent story. Heck, I think the second season is equal to, if not better than, the first, because the friend group is well-established and even more fun to watch.
Where to watch (USA, as of October 2020): Netflix (dub, sub); Crunchyroll (sub), HIDIVE (sub & dub, plus OVAs and film)
Click my “reviews” tag below or search “mini review” on my blog to find more!
#love chunibyo & other delusions#chuunibyou demo koi ga shitai#Rikka Takanashi#Shinka Nibutani#Sanae Dekomori#anime#brb just going into withdrawal from the lack of Shinka and Deko snarking in my life now#not sure if Rikka was supposed to read as non-neurotypical but I think it's a possible interpretation & I want more#reviews#recommendation
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