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#i wish wanderer's was easier to farm
rubys-domain · 1 year
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it took for-fucking-ever to get a marechaussee atk sands. but i finally got one. after countless useless artifacts. at least i got a lot of fodder i guess
#⇢₊˚⊹ 🩷∥ruby∥yo,ide yo !!#i wish wanderer's was easier to farm#i don't think i'm gonna get any better blizzard strayer pieces for chong on main#individually lyney's artifacts are still ass#but altogether,his stats are actually somewhat okay#that domain really is such a scam tho#i'm getting a little discouraged with chong's artifacts though. 60/120 crit feels too tall to surpass#if i improve one i always make the other worse#and he already has like three 20% crit dmg pieces that are really hard to replace#and i don't want to sacrifice his em either because having less makes his damage noticeably worse#i know i could definitely get better pieces. especially my cryo goblet. i'm just really not getting lucky#i'm not sure i even want to farm marechaussee on main anymore. farming it on the alt was already rough#and on main it'll go much slower because i don't have fragile resin anymore. i'd have to wait for the resin regen#and getting zero pieces at worst and not even the right main stat at best feels really bad#plus his damage is already fine with his scuffed 2pc glad 2pc berserker setup and level 80 ibis piercer#(i know it's not the best bow in the world for him. but i have no other offensive bow rn okay)#i'd rather not get the unpleasant scenario where trying to get his bis set actually turned out to be a downgrade in damage#maybe i should just work on his talents on main. at least that's always an improvement#farming for baizhu is also kind of a nightmare#my deepwood luck is so bad. like. REALLY bad#honestly my gilded dreams luck is pretty dogshit too#all my luck seems to be going to the character gacha and none towards artifacts#i would agree to losing a 50/50 for the perfect hp/er deepwood set#the pieces i'm getting seem to be better suited for a future nahida if anything#which isn't terrible. but it's really not what i need rn#i think i've cracked the code#domains where i only want to farm one set will give me more+cracked pieces of the set i don't want#domains where i want both sets will just always give me shit artifacts
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romanarose · 3 months
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About a Girl: Chapter 8
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Beautiful header by my beloved @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog
Joel Miller x Trans!Fem!Reader (Nickname, Blue)
Series Masterlist : The Last of Us Masterlist : Full Masterlist
Summary: For week 5 of my pride event: Struggles. Joel, Sarah, Blue, and
Warnings for whole fic, not chapter by chapter: 18+ ONLY!! I cannot warn against everything, but these are major themes. Joel is a lil ignorant but not out of hate. He just doesn't know. He's trying his best. There will be smut. Penetrative sex, all of the anal play, oral. There will be transphobia from other people. Addiction and alcoholism. QUICK child neglect not by Joel but I promise, Sarah is fine and is having a great time in life. Fetishization of women attracted to women by a shitty guy. Will update as needed. Again, this is adult content. Expect adult content.
Immersivity: Reader is transgender, AMAB female, reader has had gotten bottom surgery, not top, and is on hormones. reader has visible hair and a blue streak in hair, but not described. Could be braids, could be natural hair, whatever. Header is for aesthetics only. Reader is about Joel and Tommy's height. Let me know if i miss anything!
TRANS LIVES MATTER! TRANS YOUTH MATTER! TRANS ELDERLY MATTER! TRANS WOMEN MATTER! TRANS MEN MATTER! NON BINARY TRANS MATTER!
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She was wearing the dress you bought her. They both were. 
Joel watched from the kitchen as Sarah and Ellie had their little tea party in the cute matching dresses you had bought them. Ellie was over for a playdate, a tea party to be exact. For Sarah’s birthday, which Joel spent much of the time wishing you were there and Sarah mentioned multiple times she missed you as well, Tommy had handmade her a table and chair set.
Since Joel kicked him out, things had been… shitty. Joel missed him a lot, even though they still saw each other almost every day at work. It was the off season so hours were reduced, but Bill and Frank never left the four of them hanging, and made sure they had some contacts for extra hours at other farms or under the table work to make up their hours. Tommy had been riding with Tess now, and it seems in his spare time Joel wasn’t privy to had been making the set in Bill's garage. Sarah was ecstatic and first thing was asking if she could have Ellie over for a tea party the next weekend. Joel confirmed with Ellie’s very uninterested foster mom, saying he could pick up and drop off when she didn’t seem enthused about bringing her over two weeks in a row. Ellie was Sarah’s best friend, and since you were gone Sarah seemed down, so Joel was going out of his way to cheer his little girl up. She deserved it. She deserves everything. She deserved to have you in her life, Joel didn’t.
The night Joel came home to Tommy doing heroin was one of the worst nights of his life. He was so scared for her, scared she’d accidentally stuck herself with the needle or wandered off into the street to get hit or kidnapped or worse…if something happened to Sarah, his life would be over. There’d be no point anymore. He put her to bed the second time, comin downstairs to an empty living room but knowing you’d be coming in soon. He was scared, embarrassed that Talia had seen all that, and worried what Sarah saw and heard. Worried how he’d explain Tommy being gone… If he’d just gone to rehab it’d be easier, but he still refused. Instead, he lived with Tess and came over sometimes because of course he did, they were still brothers… it was hard to explain why Tommy didn’t live here anymore. And it was going to be hard to explain why you were gone.
“This isn’t gonna work.”
You blinked at him, mouth agap. “Joel… come on don’t do this.”
“You don’t wanna be with me like this.” Joel shook his head.
“Baby, no…” You try to approach him, raising your arms to hold him but he held out a hand. He was still surprise that you stopped. Kayla never respected his boundaries like that. “You think I care about this? I mean- fuck I mean I care, you know I care about Sarah and Tommy but I mean… I don’t view you differently. It makes me sad Tommy is hurting like this but I don’t view him different… Joel I wanna help-”
He cut you off. “You can’t.” Joel’s face was hardened, his soft eyes looking lost. “This isn’t a good time and… I can’t have distractions.”
Joel’s heart breaks when he see’s your lower lips quiver. “Am I a distraction to you?”
He wanted to say no. He wanted to say you were everything, you completed him, you were apart of his little found family and he loved you so, so much… but he couldn’t. Sarah was left alone for anything to happen because Joel was with you. It wasn’t your fault. It was his.
“Yes.”
Joel was sure Ellie wouldn’t like the dress, but she was wearing it. Maybe she just didn’t get nice things as a foster child. Joel thought that was a shame. Ellie was a good kid, nice if a little rough sometimes but never malicious. Her and Sarah were playinging some game with sticks as Joel sat on the deck drinking coffee with Tommy. He watched as she got a little over zealous and THWACK, a stick across Sarah’s face. It looked worse than it was, and sure probably hurt bad, but nothing but a few cuts on her face. Joel ran down the deck to hold a screaming Sarah, not noticing Ellie disappearing when his back turned. Tommy did.
As Sarah calmed down, Tommy appeared holding Ellie’s hand. Ellie tried to run out the gate but it was locked, she just managed to take get it undone, smart kid she was, when Tommy scooped her up.
As Sarah’s sobs turned into sniffles, Joel turned to see Ellie frozen, eyes wide and body shaking.
“Hey now…” Joel said softly. “It’s alright Ellie, it was an accident. See? She ’salright.” Joel motioned to Sarah who was wiping her eyes.
“Joel.” Tommy mumbles. “I don’t think that’s what she’s worried about…”
Oh. She was scared of him. “You’re okay, Ellie. I ain’t mad, game just got a little wild, that’s all. Right Sarah? You’re okay aren’t you?”
Sarah whipped her tears, standing up. “Yeah I’m okay!” Although her voice still wobbled and her face was still wet. “Daddy can we have a snack?”
“Yeah, of course babygirl. I’ll bring your chairs and table out so you can eat out here, sound good?”
Joel and Tommy’s eyes connected. The pieces were there to conclude what they thought, but the evidence was all circumstantial. 
As Sarah and Ellie ate their snack, he noticed how quickly Ellie ate her food, asking for more. Joel decided to ask her foster mom is she could stay for dinner. He heard them talking as they ate.
“Where did you get these dresses? Did you buy them?” Ellie asked her.
“Uh-uh. Daddy’s girlfriend Blue bought them!”
“Where is she?”
Joel watched as Ellie glanced down at her food. “They broke up.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“I miss her. My mommy is gone too.”
“Did she die?”
“No, she and my daddy broke up too.”
“Your dad breaks up a lot. He shouldn’t be so picky, he’s too old.”
Joel couldn't help smile at that. Ellie didn’t have a filter. It wasn’t that he being picky; it wasn’t about you. You were perfect. Joel pictured himself marrying you, having a life with you. You were perfect. He was wrong. Everything about Joel’s life was chaos and it wasn’t fair to you or Sarah or Tommy to split his attention even more. And now, it seemed, he was taking on a lot of responsibility for Ellie too. It was just too much. 
Joel turned on the TV while he cooked dinner, Ellie and Sarah playing upstairs.
“Grunge pioneer and Nirvana frontman Kurt Cobain found dead in his apartment today, thought to be a self-inflicted gunshot wound.”
Joel dropped the spoon into his spagetti sauce. “Shit.” He murmured, trying to fish it out with a spatula. Nirvana was your favorite, you idolized Kurt Cobain. He knew more about the beef between him and Guns “N Roses or Nirvana and Pearl Jam than he ever thought he would; he didn’t even know who Nirvana or Pearl Jam were before you, honestly.  He loved hearing your passion, even if it was all so new to him, an he loved when you showed him new songs, but nothing got your mouth going like Nirvana did; the absolute excited way you talked about their music made your eyes light up and you’d bounce in your seat, joyful and enthusiastic, a love for life Joel admired. 
He loved how someone who’d been through so much could be so… happy. It gave him hope. From life as a depressed, addicted “gay man” couch surfing and sometimes homeless, to a school teacher, happy and loving and stable as a woman. Before you, he only vaguely knew what being trans was. No one really talked about it except occasionally some article or an episode of TV. Joel didn’t think much about it, but he knew what others thought. Many said it was a sin, or unnatural, or that it was body mutilation… Some said things like they would regret it, that it was a mental illness… Joel didn’t know much about mental illness, if he was being honest. He knew it was considered a mental illness by the big book psychiatrists use… but he always knew until the 70’s being gay was considered one too, and Joel didn’t think Tess, Bill and Frank were mentally ill. Well, Bill was a conspiracy theorist and a little cooky at times, but his head was on straight. Joel didn’t really care what anyone said. You were living and looking the way you wanted to  save your life, and Joel was glad you were alive, even if you weren't a part of his world.
After serving up his girls, a heaping serving for Ellie to make up for what she’s not getting at ‘home’, Joel leaned against the counter, spooning the left over right into his mouth. One less dish to clean. He liked Ellie, he thought as he ate, even if she was a bit of a pain in the ass. She was spirited in a way Sarah wasn’t, but a good kid. She also liked baseball, and would watch with him sometimes before Sarah dragged her away.
He heard the doorbell, and Sarah ran up shouting “I’ll get it!!!” and as Joel walked over to the door still chewing a big mouthful of spaghetti, she informed him it was Aunt Tess.
“Hey Tess,” Joel swallowed his food, “Sorry, I can’t have anyone other than Tommy over, Ellie’s over for a playdate.”
Tess didn’t look like herself, sollem and worried face mareing her expressions. “Joel… something happened with Blue…”
His heart dropped. “Is it the Kurt Cobain thing? Is she okay? I know thats probably really upset-” 
She cut him off, hand raised but not rudely. “No, Joel I- jesus… Tommy say anything to you?”
Joel furrowed his brow. What did he do now? “No… he get into trouble again?”
“No… he was pretty out of it the other night but… him and me with with Max. Joel, I swear, he said he dumped Kayla.”
Taking a deep breath, Joel cringed at her name. “Y’all can do whatever you want, it’s none of my business.” But it still hurt, just a little, even if it was irrational. 
Tess scrubbed her face. “Joel, it’s bad, it’s so bad. Tommy got drunk, and he started talk’n, and you know how he gets… well Max was talkn ‘bout Kayla and her beef with Blue and I swear, no one was talk’n bad about her, Tommy was say’n how much he likes her, and I don’t even know how it came out but Tommy mentioned her being trans-”
“Shit- To Max? Tess, you know how he is!” Joel turned into the house, bellowing. “TOMMY!”
“I know! I know, okay but listen…” She shifted her feet. “I guess he wasn’t done with Kayla…” Tess’s face looked wracked with guilt, biting her lip and struggling to get out the story.
It was bad.
*
Joel dropped Ellie off with her foster mom, sending her with some fruit snacks. Not trusting Tommy with Sarah alone yet, Joel left her with Tommy and Tess; Talia answered Blue’s door.
“Joel.” She sighed, leaning against the doorframe. “This isn’t a good time. You know I love yuh, but she don’t need this right now.”
Joel shuffled, placing his hands in his pockets. “I’m- fuck, I’m sorry I just… I wanted to check on ‘er…” 
Talia’s face softens, her body language relaxing. “I know… and I’m sorry. Maybe come by in a few days, I’ll let her know you stopped by, but she said she didn’t wanna see anyone-”
“Talia? Is that Joel?”
Signing at the voice of her best friend, she turned around. “Yeah babe, I told him to come by in a day or two.”
The sound of you sitting up made his heart leap. The idea of seeing you after months was exciting and nerve racking. 
Acquiescing, Talia opened the door to your apartment where Joel saw you. You were still in your PJ’s, hair a mess, your eyes bloodshot and puffy. You were still the prettiest woman he’d ever seen in his life.
“Hey.” Nirvana played in the background. Something in the Way.
“Hey…” You lip quivers, and Joel runs over to you with no hesitation, scooping you into his strong, farm-worked arms and keeping you close to him as you cried. Your body wracks in heaves and sobs, and Joel knew something was very wrong, his heart aching for you, hoping so badly you were going to be okay. He never wanted to stop hugging you. When you’re crying slowed, Joel still held your body. Talia offered to go get some food, trusting Joel to watch you while she was gone and giving you both time to talk. When you finally lifted your head off his soft flannel, Joel guided you to sit on the couch.
“I’ve missed you so much…” You sniffled, not looking at him. “As soon as I heard about Kurt Cobain, I just wanted to call you…”
“You could’ve…” He reassured you. “I know how much he meant to you… I don’t want you to have to go through things alone, Blue…”
You shake your head. “I don’t. I got Talia, I always got Talia… and Tess and Tommy…” 
Joel didn’t know Tommy was hanging out with you. “I know… I just…” He sighs. “I still wanna be there for you, you know? And with what happened…”
You groan, flopping back on the couch dramatically. “I can’t fucking beleive it. Years, i was here for years completely fine! Then this shit happens!”
“I’m sorry-”
“Joel, don’t-”
“But I am! I’m sorry, this is because of me.”
“No, this is because Kayla is a bitch. Sorry Joel, I know you don’t like us talk’n bad about her but she is!”
His voice was soft and gentle. “I think you earned the right to call her that, Blue.”
He hears you huff a sardonic laugh. “So have you.” You scrub your face. “Three years with this school, not so much as a talking to, no bad performance reviews… Not even a parent complaint.” You pop your head up. “Parents will complain about everything! But not me!” Back down. “All down the drain.”
Apparently, Max wasn’t done with Kayla. This didn’t surprise Joel; Kayla wanted Max to get to him, and Max was stupid. Of course he was still cheating with her. Kayla was, obviously, beautiful. That’s just a fact. After finding out Blue was trans, he scampered off to Kayla like a little rat and told her. Kayla, in turn, outted Blue to the entire school.
“Can’t you sue for wrongful termination? I mean, they can’t fire you for being trans.”
“Nope” You popped the P. “But they fired me on grounds of poor work performance which is bullshit. Texas is a will to work state, which means they can basically fire me for anything except being a protected class, so they just make something up. Texs has ass workers rights, I don’t got a leg to stand on.” He watched as your eyes welled up with tears. “Parents who always said their children adored me complained I was a predator and was grooming their children… One called me a satanist, which is wild.”
Joel chuckled a little at that, but only because you had a smile at the corner of your mouth. “I’m sorry this is happening, Blue… you’re a great teacher and they are fucking missing out.”
“I know, thank you. Being good right won’t pay my bills, though.” You’d be moving in with Tess, Talia, and Tommy, making for a full house. Joel wanted to bring Tommy home, he really fucking did… Tess and Talia woud have a full house once Blue was there, Sarah missed him… and fuck, Joel missed him. A lot. But Tommy refused to get help, and although he said he was clean, he’d said it before. He couldn’t risk Sarah’s safety like that. Honestly, he wasn’t sure Tommy even wanted to come back with the way Joel had talked to him sometimes. 
You rested your feet on his blue jeans. “I’m glad you’re here, cowboy.”
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Joel just can't stay away.
Two chapters left! One more seeing how things come back together for Joel, Blue, Sarah, Ellie, Tess and Talia
then, the finally where everyone is happy for the finale of pride event!!!!
I went to pride today (before and after being The Bikeriders AGAIN)
Before, I cried a little a free mom hugs
then i cried at The Bikerriders
then!! After bikeriders I went back to check out everything fully with more time and ended up breaking down sobbing at the free mom/dad hugs tent. It was so much a lady from anothr tent hugged me too ;-;
i love my mom but she'd never fully accept me.
Anyway, love y'all!!!! You are loved just the way you are! You are sacred!
How to keep up with the series:
Follow About a girl series on tumblr
follow @romana-updates and turn on notifications
Ask to be tagged!
@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @ashleyfilm @bumblepony @snnyc @casa-boiardi @del-ightfulling @joelsoftie @valoxwayward @axshadows @qveerthe0ry @guelyury @copperhalfcent @perotovar
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willameena · 7 months
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15 questions for 15 friends
Thank you @sky-kenobye 💖
1. Are you named after anyone?
No
2. When was the last time you cried?
3 days ago
3. Do you have kids?
Yes, I have 3. They are 6, 4, and 2, but they are all having birthdays in the next few months.
4. What sports do you play/ have you played?
I was not allowed to play sports as a kid, because I had to play an instrument (I played cello for 8 yrs) but I like to run now. Idk if that really counts
5. Do you use sarcasm?
No. Never.
I wish sarcasm was easier to use in writing, haha. Yes, I do.
6. What's the first thing you notice about people?
I don't know... general appearance? It depends on who the person is and the context of meeting them.
7. What's your eye colour?
Green
8. Scary movies or happy endings?
Happy endings because I don't like scary movies but what I really love is sad endings 🫠
9. Any talents
I don't think so? I am told often how incredibly patient I am, which I don't know if I entirely agree with nor do I think that's really a talent haha
10. Where were you born?
Southern California
11. What are your hobbies?
I have a lot of houseplants! I also tried making my own candles recently and that was very fun. I like to read, I'm reading Fight Club right now. I like to hike and run, and be outdoors.
12. Do you have any pets?
No, my kids really want a black cat, but I can't handle keeping an animal alive in addition to them. Maybe in a few years.
13. How tall are you?
5'8" but I kind of wish I was a little taller!
14. Favourite subject in school?
I always enjoyed English and history and did well in those subjects, I liked biology too.
15. Dream job?
This is hard, I don't know. The past two-ish years I've been reassessing my life and I don't know what I want to do with my career, or what used to be my career (I used to work in residential care, for adults with developmental and intellectual disabilities, as a licensed administrator but I burnt out really hard). Most recently, i worked as a patients' rights advocate representing people receiving behavioral health services. My best friend and I joke about opening a thrift store or going off grid and running a farm. I guess that's the dream!
No-pressure tagging: @trannakinskywalker @lesbianakins @dragon-on-ice @palfriendpatine66 @kenobster @somethingsteff @kato-neimoidia @underacalicosky @darthplodder @howlbrooklyn @fulcrum843 @heretolurkandnothingmore @wandering-not-lost04 @bisexualobiwankenobi @dark--whisperings 🩷
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streaminn · 1 year
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Stream ? Could we have a lil bit of Wednesday pov in the Elderich farm au please ?
Give me a sec
I had to, think for a bit in how tf will I write this
--
She isn't a god.
It's a usual thought most people have when they first meet her, but they're wrong.
God? They'd ask.
She would shake her head.
What are you then? They would continue.
She pauses everytime because the term was off when spoken. Was she a diety? No, to claim to be one meant to have divine status. A status mortals give and mark to other spirits. She had no needs or wants for such things, so she clearly wasn't a diety. God? Again, no. It felt close but not close enough.
In the end, no matter how many times this conversation will go, there truly wasn't a way to say what she was.
I can show you, she settles.
They stop asking after that.
The last time someone asked, the question was different yet the purpose was the same.
A blond lady asked her it, with eyes like the sky above. She looked a little bit inebriated, a flush along her cheeks when she stumbled onto the fields and came upon Her.
Her name is Enid, a farmer.
"who are you?" farmer asks, leaning onto a stick.
She tilts her head. "a wanderer," she settles, for that was what she was, one who wanders this lands. She forgotten how long to be frank, the times passing by with every step.
"No name?" Enid wonders, blinking slow and her shoulders are low.
"i don't have one." titles yes but a name? That felt different. Numerous have given one but none have ever stuck.
The farmer blinks again. She does that alot, she notes.
"o.. Okay," Enid murmurs and then her eyes are up in the skies, thinking before she snaps her fingers and points her index fingers at Her. "what about Wednesday!"
She tilts her head, curious. What an odd name, she hasn't heard that before. "like the day of the week?"
The farmer laughs, shaking her head and she's smiling.
Peculiar, most of the mortal's She met usually held some form of tears in their eyes. Then again, most couldn't even look her in the eyes in the first place.
"No silly," Enid giggles and she leans onto the stick, her arms cushioning her head. "I meant the poem! Something about Wednesday being woe day."
Woe? What a description.
"why would such a name fit me?" She wonders, finally the one to ask questions.
The farmer shrugs, squinting a little in the dark. "you look like you're a woeful wife, ma'am." her hands gesture to all of Her. "maybe it's those dark cloths you're wearing but it looks like you're grievin' that one lucky person."
A wife?
That was a first time someone would ever say such a thing. Warrior, yes. A demon or a vengeful spirit, absolutely. But a wife?
What is a wife but a companion through life?
That doesn't sound so unappealing now that she thought about it. She wonders why it hasn't struck her through all these years.
An idea pops in Wednesday's head, one that makes her step forward.
"do you think of yourself a lucky person, Enid?"
The farmer humms, her eyes dropping low for a moment before she nods.
"I mean, it's pretty lucky for me to kickstart this farm without help yknow?" her smile is lazy, a sign of her wish for slumber yet her eyes shine with pride. "like it would've been easier to have someone but yeah! I like to think I'm a bit lucky."
Wednesday steps closer.
"would you like someone?" To have someone? to be your wife?
It would be nice, Wednesday thinks. Wandering for all time would've gotten boring eventually.
Enid nearly slips off her stick if it weren't for Wednesday grasping at her arm and keeping her upright.
The farmer blinks, slow and unfocused before she nods, brows furrowing for a moment as clarity settles in.
"I think that'd be nice," Enid agrees and for the first time in ages, Wednesday smiles.
The next morning, Enid wakes up with a wife because well.. Isn't she that one lucky person?
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stelliferousduo · 2 months
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[VEE'S ONE YEAR GENSHIN ACCOUNT TOUR]
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Exactly one year ago, on July 8th of 2023, I installed Genshin and Lumine began her adventure in Teyvat. I quickly got addicted to the game and I still play daily to this day, so I feel like this is a good point to kind of look back on everything I've achieved in one year of playing: from exploration, characters, builds to my favorite teams to use!
STATS & EXPLORATION
My absolute favorite part of the game...exploration! I love running around in the overworld with my characters, finding chests and doing quests. The story, its characters and the world of Teyvat are definitely what keeps me playing!
I have currently finished the main Archon Quest, but I do have some side quests left and I'm also working on 100%-ing every area so far! (And tracking down all oculi because I kind of got lazy with those after Liyue...)
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OWNED CHARACTERS
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My luck has been a mixed bag in terms of pulling for characters. On one hand, I got very lucky early on - getting Jean from the Beginner's Wish banner and Keqing at around 30-40 pity on standard banner. When it comes to the limited character banners, however...
During my first year of playing, I wished on a total of 9 banners and these were the results.
Kokomi -> Lost 50/50 to Diluc, then got guaranteed
Zhongli -> Lost 50/50 to Tighnari, then got guaranteed
Wriothesley -> Lost 50/50 to Diluc
Xiao -> Guarantee ll Xiao C1 -> Lost 50/50 to Tighnari
Albedo -> Lost 50/50 to Eula then got guaranteed
Kazuha -> Guaranteed
Wanderer -> Lost 50/50 to Tighnari then got guaranteed
Alhaitham -> Won 50/50
Furina -> Lost 50/50 to Keqing then got guaranteed
In terms of characters I still want...I really want to collect all of the cute boys for Lumine's harem, obviously. xD And then also some of the girls who I just think are cute or elements which I don't have a lot of characters for (like Cryo or Geo). ;w;
And yes, Qiqi is there for the Xiaolumi family. xD
WEAPONS
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My weapon inventory could definitely use some work. I've been slacking in terms of leveling weapons - mostly because farming all the mob drops is a pain and it also eats away at my mora. I have a spare Wolf's Fang which I should really level because it's a great stat stick for a lot of sword characters. I also want to get my Iron Sting, Lion's Roar, Favonius Lance and Favonius Warbow to lv 90 if possible.
In terms of 5* weapons, I pulled for Jade Spear for Xiao and won my 50/50 (got it in around 20-25 pulls), but then got a second copy soon after from standard which I have not leveled yet. I also have two Amos' Bows from Standard but no Ganyu. :')) I know it works on Tighnari too, but Harp makes building crit stats easier so that's what he's rocking for now. As for Neuvi's book...I did a single wish for Staff of Homa and got it on my first ever pull on the weapon banner. xD
The weapons I want the most would be Jade cutter for Lumine she matches with Xiao, more copies of the Favonius Lance (I've only gotten 2 in a whole year of playing!!) and Sacrificial Fragments. For some reason, the latter avoids me like the plague. Not a single one in a whole year and I've been wished on some weapon banners where it was rated up. T ^ T
BUILDS AND TEAMS
Lumine
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The Traveler is a tricky one because she requires so much resources to have a good build for each element. T ^ T By default, I run her as Dendro because I actually have an artifact set for her which doesn't require me stealing from other characters. For the overworld, I run her on 2P Dendro DMG bonus 2P atk% to optimize her personal damage and balance out EM and atk%.
Since I consider myself a Lumine main, I do have a team for each element where she runs as the 'main DPS', so to speak. Each team is also based off a different elemental reaction, besides the Geo one which is basically just a Navia hypercarry team but Geo Lumine instead of Navia. xD (These teams do require me to switch artifacts around. One day I hope to have a full set for each of them but yeah...That's not happening any time soon. ^^;;)
2. The OG carries
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These two CARRIED me through the early game. I even ran them together on the same team for a while because what is better than having one DPS on a team? Two of them! Basically I'd just quick swap between them while waiting for the skill/burst to refresh haha.
Right now I run Keqing either on an aggravate team or hyperbloom team with characters like Fischl, Dendro Lumine, Yaoyao, Kazuha and Kokomi. Sometimes I also switch her weapon to Lion's Roar and then I run her with 4P Marachaussee and Furina to get a good crit ratio.
Yanfei has several builds as well. Sometimes I will use Solar Pearl with 4P Wanderer's Troupe but that one is on Tighnari by default atm so I switched to this 4P Marachaussee set. She works really well in a vape team with Xingqiu, Bennett and Furina! I also like running her with Bennett and double Geo.
Things I want to improve is to finish leveling their talents and farm a better 4P TF set because those pieces on Keqing are kind of cope...^^;;
3. The Anemo boys
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The little meow meows. uwu Xiao is my first and only triple crowned character at the moment. I have several builds for him, but this is the one I put on him now which keeps enough other pieces for my remaining characters. xD His crit rate is a little on the low side, but if I run him on a double Geo comp with Geo Lumine, she actually gives him a 10% crit rate buff when he's within her burst.
Wanderer's ratio could be a bit better too in terms of crit rate, but if I can get Cryo with his A4 passive, it also adds 10% crit rate. I do like running him together with Layla although I've never really looked whether or not she actually triggers his passive. xD
In terms of teams, they both like similar supports in Zhongli, Furina, Bennett and Faruzan. Wanderer I will also sometimes run with Xingqiu, Layla and Faruzan because it's an aesthetic.
4. The Dendro boys
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Tighnari keeps on showing up when I lose my 50/50s so I guess he really wanted me to build him-- He's not quite finished yet because I need to get him up to lv 90 but he does the job just fine as is. He's currently on a 4P Wanderer's Troupe set because the Gilded domain absolutely hates me.
Same story for Alhaitham. I'd love to have a 4P Gilded on him, but I cannot get a decent EM sands from that domain at all. I've gotten like 5 EM sands but all of them had only HP and DEF sub stats... I used to run him on 2P Gilded 2P Wanderer's for maximum EM but that left Tighnari without a set so I'm running a Hybrid EM/atk% Alhaitham now. Don't judge. :'')
5. The sub DPS squad
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These characters are often more broken than the main DPS ones, I swear-- Especially Xingqiu has been amazing ever since I got his C6. Thankfully he has a skin now too because I hate his original design and avoided him like the plague for a long time because of it. >< (Now I just need to beat the Oceanid a few more times to get him up to 80/90 so I can continue leveling his talents xD)
Fischl is a character I built quite recently too but I haven't regretted it. She's on Stringless by default but sometimes I run her with Harp too. Hopefully I can get more cons for her in the future to boost her damage even more!
Xiangling is C0 because I haven't pulled on any banner she was featured on and her crit ratio is pretty bad. (I need to continue fishing for R5 the Catch, I know...) but she still works fine as a vape enabler.
Albedo is a character I don't use as often as I should. He's definitely not as strong and has kind of fallen off in terms of usefulness, but I love his lore/design so I had to pull for him anyway. The EM buff his ult provides can actually be kind of nice in certain comps too.
6. Buffers
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Furina has to be one of the characters I like using the most in the overworld. Her pets just go and kill everything lol. Usually the time I've circled through my sub DPS characters, they have taken out the enemies before my main DPS even gets to do anything. xD
Bennett and Kazuha are also very well-rounded characters who I can throw on pretty much any team and improve the damage. Sometimes I run Kazuha with more ER (sac sword or fav) if nobody else on the team needs it. The plan is to level the Iron Sting to 90 but I'm waiting for the domain to be open again.
Last but not least is C6 Faruzan who doubled my Xiao's damage output. She definitely needs some work too in terms of talents & ascension so once she's 80/90 with her burst to lv 10-11, she'll boost my Anemo boys even more!
7. Shielders
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Zhongli is another character who I can put on pretty much any team and make it more comfy to play. Mine is not even build as a shield bot but he still tanks pretty much anything the overworld throws at you. If there's a particularly aggressive Abyss, I do update his build to 2P Noblesse/2P Tenacy with an HP goblet or HP circlet so he can tank even more hits.
Meanwhile Layla is my pure shield bot. I used to run 4P Tenacity on her but I don't have enough pieces to give both her and Faruzan a full set so I now run her on 2P HP% and 2P ER. Her burst is quite useful when I run her together with a Hydro and want to freeze opponents.
8. Healers
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Kokomi was the first limited 5* I pulled for and the reason I started playing Genshin in the first place. I think she's absolutely gorgeous and I'm glad Furina enabled me to use her more. Her mono hydro team with Xingqiu, Kazuha and Furina destroyed the Abyss Lectors in the current abyss!
Jean is a character I leveled/raised quite recently so her build is not 100% optimized yet. I would like to get a 4P Noblesse for her eventually but my current Noblesse pieces are more HP% focused. ;;
Lastly there's Yaoyao who has 4P deepwood to boost my Dendro DPS characters. She's a cutie and while her heals are not as strong as Jean and Kokomi, I still enjoy using her on Dendro-based teams or on my Xiaolumi family team with Lumine, Xiao and Zhongli!
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meeblo · 1 year
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Why do people hate IS3 compared to IS2?
I've seen a decent amount of people who dislike IS3 and prefer IS2, or even find IS3 to be a regression or a push away from what made IS2 good. This isn't me trying to refute those claims necessarily, just understand them
Here's two of the most common things I seem to see people say, and why I don't really understand them:
IS3 has more RNG run-killing bullshit This complaint probably comes from things like rejections and a few bad emergency ops (territorial tendencies, water and fire union, etc). While those things can be a pain, I personally find IS3 to have far less RNG compared to IS2. Wish Fulfilled nodes offering a choice of collectible rather than just a random one is far better for shaping the kind of synergies you want to get rolling, and the odds of losing out on a good collectible you really want are slim as you can reroll a 1. Fortuitous Opportunities likewise give you a chance to turn otherwise worthless collectibles into something that contributes to your overall strategy. Whereas in IS2 targeting an ending like Mouthpiece or Playwright is a hellish RNG farm to get maybe 10% of runs through the required random encounters to trigger it, in IS3 a solid majority of my runs see the encounter necessary for Last Knight, Ishar'mla, or both. Additional shop options such as rerolling or fighting Cannot also help to let you see more collectible choices throughout the run and give you more agency in shaping your synergies. Overall, I find that IS3's tough run ending stages are more than balanced out by the far greater agency IS3 gives you compared to IS2 in developing your collectible synergies. (and besides, those tough run ender stages aren't so bad when you get a feel for them. Unless you're going for Ishar'mla, rejections are also largely a nonissue so long as you avoid leaks or only burn objective shield. Even on high waves where you start at 70 light, I rarely end up getting a run killed by a rejection. If it's someone important hit, I reroll it, or utilize the emergency dispatch node. There's other nodes as well that can cure rejections. Always grab random reserve ops and never skip recruitments, they'll soak up rejections. Most rejections are barely an issue anyway, it's just the stat halving one that sucks).
IS3 is too hard, minimizing the freedom IS2 had to let you use non-meta characters Frankly I don't really understand this one. IS2 is far more strict with stages that require certain operators. Wandering medics are far more important to IS2 than IS3, as Nervous Impairment is generally a much more strategy-disrupting status effect than Corrosion. Stages like Justice are functionally an instant run ender without investing in a fast-starting DP generating strategy (cough, flagpipe). Drone heavy stages are more common in earlier floors, and IS2 has poison mist stages where IS3 doesn't have any, both serving as squad checks more than skill checks in the majority of circumstances. Difficulty wise, yes, IS3 does generally have harder enemies. But the mere presence of enemies with more stats, more mechanics, or both, does not require you to break out the meta operators. Texas alter is great for stunning drifting sea skimmers, but you know who else is? May, a 4 star. Kroos alter, given out for free. Regular Texas, free from pinboard missions. Aak with his talent. Ambriel, Beeswax, Click, Cliffheart who came free with your fucking xbox, Flametail, Mostima, Skyfire. The list goes on. Can't keep up with a retching broodmother killing your melee units and wasting your block? Have them attack a defensive recovery operator, they charge defensive skills real fast. Take them out with ranged units before you place melee units down, works great for maps like Omen. And as mentioned above, it's way easier to reliably get a good collectible setup without rng farming in IS3 than it is in IS2 due to having more agency in what collectibles you get.
Other Those are the main arguments I remember seeing, but I'm sure to have missed or forgotten others. Also, what perspective are people approaching this from relative to the rest of the game? Are the people complaining about Sanguinarch's Legacy in the same breath as Territorial Tendencies just people who haven't gotten to ep10 yet?
Feel free to correct me, clarify, or dispute anything said here.
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bakuzen-xiv · 13 days
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FFxivWrite2024 (Day 6): Halcyon
Note: Orion is like pre-teen in this one so uhh warning for child labor and questionable parenting
Orion wiped the sweat off his brow, straightening his back after putting the final crate in the storage building.
Well, that’s the last of ‘em, he thought, craning his neck up high to see the result of his efforts. Dozens of wooden crates, casks and burlap sacks sorted and stacked up neatly along the walls.
There was room for improvement, but he didn’t do too bad considering he had his diminutive height working against him.
He couldn’t wait until he got his growth spurt, though it would still take many years. But by the Twelve, would it make chores like this a lot easier.
Orion made a mental note to keep making good food for himself and his dad. People said that food could make you grow taller, and it wouldn't hurt to try.
As if on cue, his stomach grumbled. Not the sort of thing I ought to think about, surrounded by all this foodstuffs, he thought.
He left the wooden shed, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the bright light. The sun was high in the sky, bathing the land and the workers in a mild warmth.
A comfortable sea breeze blew past Orion. The rustle of orange trees and various crops was a peaceful contrast to the usual bustle in Limsa Lominsa that he was used to. Occasional yelling among the rows of crows broke up the background noise.
He had to find the Roegadyn who he'd pestered for work. A daunting task, with the size of this farm. He regretted not asking him beforehand where he'd be able to find him.
Orion wandered from row to row, checking each path for the sight of the Roegadyn. He ignored the stares that his presence attracted, only making quick, disinterested eye contact with those whose glances he caught.
Better not to smile, he knew.
“Need somethin’, kid?” a gruff voice yelled out from far behind him. 
The voice startled Orion, but he did not flinch. He gave himself two blinks to collect himself, then he turned. Be confident, he heard his dad’s voice echo in his mind, as it always did.
The Roegadyn was not among the fields, but he'd been watching from a distance. With his arms folded, he stared at Orion while the young elezen ran up to him. Whether the stare was one of anger or judgement or something else, he did not know.
“I finished the work,” Orion yelled back, noticing the heads that turned his way at the sound of his voice, too high and too thin for someone working on the farm. He’d have to work on that, he thought to himself.
“Do you want to see, sir?”
“That’s fine,” the man said, rummaging in his pocket with clear disinterest. He gestured for Orion to hold out his hand, dropping some gil in them. Whether it was a good or bad amount, he did not know. “Be here tomorrow by the fifth bell. We’ll have more delivery crates to sort through.”
Orion nodded, wishing his dad was here to do the talking for him.
“You can handle more lifting?”
“Yes, sir.”
The man hummed, staring down at Orion. Orion stared back, confidently. At least, he hoped so.
“Any more questions?”
“Can I leave now, sir?”
“Sure. Walk off, run off, go take up opera for all I care. Like I said, just be back tomorrow before the fifth bell.”
A silence fell while Orion continued staring at the man.
“What are ye still here for?”
“What’s opera, sir?”
The Roegadyn sighed. “Just bugger off, won’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
Orion turned around to run for the gate, eager to spend the afternoon exploring the unfamiliar land outside the farm.
“Take some oranges for you and yer pa, alright?” the Roegadyn yelled after him.
Orion stopped in his track, startled by the loud voice and the unexpected kindness. With a bounce and a wave he grinned back at the man. “Thank you, sir!”
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alfredopizzaluver151 · 9 months
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I wish there was more reaction from the Stardew Valley npcs on the farmer clearing out the farm, lake, and pond areas of, well, everything lol. Like I'm sure it must be nice having the areas people explore be a bit easier to traverse. And the amount of trash you pick up from fishing probably clears the water. And it'd be nice to see how amazed everyone is by the progress the farmer makes with the farm. Walking paths, lamps, farm buildings, etc.! Idk I wish there was a comment on how cute and amazing the farm land is and how much it has helped the town. They just wander around the community center every once in a while and don't even use it?
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hananoami · 5 months
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Any tips for clearing the last stages of Lemonette and Pumpkin Magus? Do I brute force it? What would you recommend?
For a first time clear of Stage 9 for Lemonette and Pumpkin Magus?
Hmm... you can try to brute force it if you don't have memories to match the Protofield Stellactrum or if you simply want to test out a different team build because they are higher leveled, just be aware that it'll take you longer to break the protofield shields because you don't have a 'perfect match'.
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A perfect match when is the Memory Stellactrum and Protofield Stellactrum are aligned. This allows your [Resonance Skill] to break up to 2 Protocore Shields per strike instead of 1 break if it weren't matched. Considering the CD for this ability is 15s, that means it'll take you a full minute to bring it down to weakened state as opposed to 30s if you were to match the stellactrum.
You also miss out on some Attribute Bonus, which is for each matched Stellactrum, it'll increases your stats DMG Boost by 5.0% and DMG Reduction by 5.0% per Stellactrum used. Note you'll still receive a bonuses if you use some matched memories. It's just capped up to 30%.
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With that said, I guess it comes down to what memories you'll be using.
The 5-star myth solars are insanely better than their 4-star counterparts, but if you don't have those that's fine. Use whatever you have in your collection. Since it'll be a first time clear it doesn't matter how you get it. A clear is a clear and you'd want to be able to at least farm those stages for more resources.
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These are the star pass conditions, but for the first-time clear we'll ignore the ⭐️HP no less than 50% and ⭐️Win in 90 sec part. You'll only need to focus on clearing.
For weapon I would suggest using Claymore.
Combat suggestions: I would spam your charge attack into a dodge to cancel out that long animation that would usually follow, and then repeat. Also don't forget to use your [Resonance Skill] on cooldown to break the protofield shields, while keeping in mind of their respective passive/support skills.
I included a video below on how to do the charge attack-dodge spam it if you aren't sure. Personally, I find it easier to dodge into the wanderer or to the sides using your directional pad, otherwise you'll just be dodging backwards every time if you don't have a direction held haha.
Companion Skins is also something to take into consideration. If you have the myth companions I would highly recommend you use those. However if you don't, no worries~ There are other alternatives you can use. For example, Xaiver's Distant Youth and Zayne's Medic of the Arctic work well.
For tips during the actual fight--
Lemonette: stand close to a green lemon so lemonette will teleport to you on that one. then perfect dodge out of it into a [Resonance Skill]. if a yellow lemon spawns on you and is about to burst aoe dmg you can either move away from it and dodge back into the green lemon or you can take the dmg. just wanna make sure you're near a green one so lemonette will get hit with their own acid to break their lemon shield.
Pumpkin Magus: kinda force/push pumpkin magus towards the edge of the arena. That way you can try to avoid those hats that do aoe dmg -- you should ignore those and just focus on doing as much dmg to him instead. if you can do some perfect dodges for the support skills that would also help too.
Don't forget to level up your protocores! Every bit of extra stats makes a difference (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
This was probably more than what you expected... but I hope it was helpful in some way. I wish I recorded my game plays earlier, but from what I recall I had Xavier's and Zayne's myth pair early on in game so I used those solars. Claymore is my go to for high damage output - especially for fights that are single target.
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dont-doubt-dopple · 2 years
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Into the Portal - A Shrub Berry OneShot
Hello! This is my gift to @wynterstorm for the MCYT Valentines Exchange! I saw you liked Shrub and this kind spawned from trying to explore her specifically. Thank you to the beautiful people at @mcyt-valentines for organizing and putting this event together. And I hope everyone enjoys!
Word Count: 1020
~~~~~~~<•>~~~~~~~
Shrub Berry had a lot of thoughts as she looked to the portal.
A lot of the immediate ones revolved around the current situation. She wondered what would happen to the spirits of the forest she had summoned, wandering alone in the still unfinished tunnels of her mushroom growing operation. She wondered how hard it would be to traverse … the corrupted version of home. It wasn’t the Nether, despite what people called it. It was home, tainted by Xornoth and Exor. Her real home, real people, were out there somewhere. She knew it. She didn’t know how far, and that didn’t exactly make the journey across lava lakes and past bastions any easier with a pack of wolves in tow. She wondered what would happen if she ever could return; how much of the Undergrove would be ash.
That wasn’t the majority of her thoughts though. She was thinking a lot about her friends.
She was thinking of Katherine, Protector of the Overgrown. Shrub would miss the tea and gossip nights, miss the smell of flowers as she walked to her castle, miss the chance to ask about a wolf plushie that changed faces based on how she was feeling. She wondered if her kingdom was okay or if the plants Katherine loved so much were burning as well.
She was thinking about Scott, Ruler of Rivendell. She worried about him as he had grown increasingly cold the last few times they met up. Not in personality, he was still as kind and regal as ever, but temperature. The bluing tips of his fingers and hair didn’t escape her view. He would be fine in a fire but if the explosion brought anything else to Rivendell … She was very concerned at how well that crystal would hold.
She was thinking about fWhip, Count of the Grimlands. He was the catalyst; nothing was left based on what he told them. Everything he had built and created, all of Eastvale and the life people made for themselves there. It was gone. He had Gem sure, but it still hurt Shrub to think about. To lose everything and not be able to do anything about it … she was very aware of what that pain was like. She wishes she could have said more to him in the panic and chaos at Spawn. But they would forever remain unsaid.
She was thinking about Joey, Emperor of the Lost Empire. About how the explosion and aftershocks ripped through his kingdom. About how angry he was with what was going on. Part of her wanted to stay, to give him a small shoulder to lean on as they watched both their empires burn. But she had a responsibility to protect the wolves and Mother Wolf, especially. She couldn’t abandon and deal with Joey’s quest for vengeance in, as he called it, the End Times.
Shrub looked down at the wolves who looked up at their mother with expectant eyes. She smiled at them, giving each a quick head pat before turning back to the portal. The swirling purple seemed to taunt her. She had been in the Nether a thousand times and never did it give any hint that the barren nether wastes and slowing soul sand valleys were her long lost home. It was nothing like she had remembered and loved.
Shrub sometimes liked to close her eyes and imagine how her new and old lives would interact with each other. Scott and Joey racing through the tall mushroom towers, their wings glistening in the sunlight. Katherine, Pearl and Gem sitting with the Elders as they spoke about plants and the magic that surrounded their practices. She could see fWhip teaching redstone to the farmers, showing them how to make better tree and mushroom farms. Lizzie and Jimmy would be telling the kids about the history of the land of Empires, recounting tales of magic and corruption, enemies and lovers, long lost siblings and long forgotten stories. Pixlriffs would be with historians to learn and document the story of the gnomes so it would never be lost again. Joel and Sausage would be working with the architects swapping building ideas and inspiration. And Shrub would watch under the protective eyes of the Mother Wolf, breathing it all in as her homes morphed into one.
But that was the dream. Reality was that she had no idea what was going on with any of them. Fire still burned around her, creeping closer with every second she hesitated. She has a pack to protect, a Nether to cross, and a people to find. And she was determined to find them. And then she’d return to the Undergrove and show her people the place she built after telling them all about her adventures as a stranger in a strange land. How she helped to defeat the demon that corrupted their fertile lands in the first place. How the lost gnome traveled across dimensions to finally find her way home.
She double checked that she had everything she needed for the trip: her tools, arrows, shulker boxes with bridging material, food, a totem of undying, a lead just in case. She cut down some of the vines in front of the portal before mounting Mother Wolf.
“We have to leave. We have to let it go.” She told the other wolves, though she wasn’t sure how much they understood her. If she was being honest, it was mostly just affirmation for herself. One wolf was already through, disappearing in the purple light before her thoughts were fully out. “Alright everybody. I don’t know who that was but it looks like they’re ready to go.
“Goodbye, Undergrove.” She said, looking back on all that she’s created since coming here. All the memories and people she was leaving behind. She didn’t like goodbyes, but she knew it would be a while before she’d see her own mushroom castle and hobbit hole again. “Maybe one day we’ll be back. But we have some gnomes to find.”
One final breath, and Shrub Berry rode with Mother Wolf into the Unknown.
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sniffanimal · 2 years
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this might be a strange question, but what would you actually do in a single player minecraft world on peaceful? thank you :D
I pretty much exclusively play on peaceful if I'm playing single player. It's a lot of the same stuff you'd do in a harder mode, but it's less tense imo. I explore and find cool areas to build in, I set up basic farms for stuff to trade with villagers for XP to enchant tools to make building easier. It de-stresses the game for me, since I primarily play it to relax. I play in creative sometimes but I really like the resource gathering part of building so peaceful gives me that experience.
I do play on normal or hard if I'm playing with friends, but I'm the kind of person who sleeps first or spends their time strip mining because it's safer lol. I'm not very good at Minecraft I'll admit it! It's my special interest but play wise I'm not great.
I have a lot of thoughts on improving the peaceful game experience. I wish hunger was a toggle because farming for food is fun and I want to be able to eat in peaceful. I think wandering traders should trade certain mob drops that can be difficult to get in peaceful (like slime balls, iirc you can only get them from sneezing pandas in peaceful??). Maybe baby slimes can spawn and that's it! Who knows. Peaceful isn't for everyone and it isn't the best way to play the game, but for me single player peaceful has the vast loneliness of Minecraft amplified a little bit because of how quiet it is.
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ssadumba55 · 3 years
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Christmas Confessions (Jessie X Reader)
Request: so I know you've been getting quite a few jessie requests,, but I hope you won't mind one more? maybe something where andy and his family go to a christmas market/festival or something and andy brings jessie and the reader (as well as a few of the others), and when it's safe to sneak away for awhile jessie and the reader go off together to enjoy the market, and at one point while they're looking at all the lights and stuff one of them just blurts out their feelings? thank you so much!! <3
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“Where do the two of you think you’re going?”
You and Jessie winced, turning around. You should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy to wander off, Woody had eyes at the back of his head and he was always brought along. Still, you’d hoped you’d make it a little farther than you did.
The two of you had been planning this escape for a while, ever since Andy’s mom told him he could bring toys with him actually. Of course he’d picked Buzz, Woody, you and Jessie. Not only were the four easier to carry then the rest of his toys, they also meant a lot to him.
After walking around the market, Andy and his family would be staying at a hotel. The drive between home and here was a long one, not one Mom wanted to take at night. But you and Jessie were hoping you’d have some alone time at the festival.
Not if Sheriff McBoring had anything to say about it.
“Not here,” You climbed up onto the door to unlock it. Jessie followed suit, clearly just as excited and ready to be out of here as you were. Woody huffed from his spot on the car seat.
He crossed his arms and made to follow the two of you, but Buzz stopped him.
“They’re not going far Woody, and the hotel is right down the road if they’re not back in time, they can just meet us there.” He reasoned, trying his best to calm the overly anxious cowboy. He still had an uneasy look on his face as he looked up at the two of you, pouting by the car window.
“Promise we’ll be back before Andy knows we’re gone!” Jessie, who was starting to get antsy, pleaded. There was clearly no arguing now, since everybody was on their side and Buzz was right, it would be easy for them to find their way if they needed to.
He waved the two of you off, rolling his eyes as he pulled Andy’s deck of cards out of the bag for him and Buzz. “Don’t make us come drag you back from the festival!” He called as Jessie whooped and jumped down to pull the handle of the door.
The two of you jumped out of the car and onto the parking lot ground. It was bustling, which played to your advantage. Nobody was looking at the ground at the two of you racing into the market.
Jessie had never seen anything like it, in all her time with Emily, Al and even the short time she’d had so far with Andy, she had never been taken to anything as bright as this. There were stands for Christmas gifts, Christmas ornaments, even decorations! And one for hot cocoa, which she was certain had been Andy’s family's first stop. They loved hot cocoa.
At the end of the area, there was a barn with a sign boasting a petting zoo and pony rides. There wasn’t much for two toys to really do, but you walked up and down a couple times anyway, enjoying the festivities as well as the happy atmosphere of everyone around. A couple times, you spotted Andy and Molly, laughing at a booth or doing one of the many activities they had spread out in the area.
It made the two of you really happy to see your kids so happy.
Eventually though, your legs get tired and you agree to stop to sit for a while. You find a nice stand with a sturdy enough top and hide there, out of view on top, watching families come and go.
“I’ve never been to anything like this, it’s so fun! Now I wish we would’ve made Buzz and Woody come with us, they would’ve loved this.” Jessie hummed as a child ran by, shouting about how she wanted to ride one of the ponies. It sent a pang through her heart, reminding her of when Emily used to shout the same thing at the farm near her parents’ cottage. She looked over at you, completely oblivious to the pain she was going through, a smile on your face as you leaned forward to watch.
Well, at least one of you could enjoy this place without painful memories.
“I don’t,” You looked over to her, smiling. She was a little surprised to hear you say that. Sure, you’d never been a huge fan of Woody (“He needs to mind his own business, I can take care of myself!”) or Buzz (“Touch me again, space ranger, and it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”) but you’d made efforts to be civilized with them, especially after becoming close with her.
“I like that this was a just us thing. We never get to do anything alone in Andy’s room, everybody is always bothering us.” You scowled and Jessie laughed, waving your comment off.
“That’s just family, (Y/n). You’ll get used to everybody. You’ve only been around a month, trust me. It does get easier. Woody’s only tough on us-”
“Because he cares. I know, you’ve said that before. Doesn't feel like it though. Seriously, just because he has a badge doesn’t mean he has to be the fun police.” You grumbled, crossing your arms and settling into a pout.
Her laugh was loud and it cut through the air, but it probably wasn’t heard by anyone other than you.
She bent over, trying to stifle her giggles. “Don’t say that to him.”
“Or what?” You grinned, standing and stretching. “He’ll put me in the toy box for treason?”
“Oh come on, he’s not that bad!”
“You defend him a lot, got a thing for him?”
Jessie feigned gagging. That had to be the most unappealing thought ever, dating Woody. He was like a brother to her and sure, there had been a time where Andy had pretended they were together but that was all play. In Andy’s mind, it made sense for the cowboy and cowgirl to be a pair, but to them they’d always just be good friends.
She told you this, from her spot still sitting.
“Well that’s a relief at least,” you muttered and she raised her eyebrows. You tried to laugh it off and play like it was nothing but she was your friend, she could tell you were slightly bothered by something. Sighing, you slid down to sit beside her once more and shrugged.
“I guess, I’m just jealous. You get along with everyone in the room, which makes sense you’ve been here longer. But I can’t get along with anyone but you, and even that took a while…. And I like you, you know, as more than a friend. But I can’t do anything about it because if I can’t even get along with your friends… your family, why would you want to be with someone like me?”
Before she could respond, a familiar voice shouted through the crowd.
“Can we get another hot cocoa before we leave for the hotel? Please mom! Please!” Andy and his family looked tired and ready to leave the festival. The two of you stood rushing to the edge of the roof and climbing down the way you’d gotten up.
“This isn’t over, we’ll talk later tonight. But (Y/n)?” Jessie said as she landed on the ground and you followed suit.
“You’re wrong. I like ya just the way you are. And besides, you’ll get used to the others. It’s hard being the new person, but you’re fitting in so well. The only one who can’t see it is you, now come on partner, before that wagon gets a move on!”
“Car, Jessie!”
“Aw you’re no fun!” She took your hand and pulled you a long, smiling back at you as she did. Your heart fluttered in your chest, there was definitely something waiting for you at that hotel. You were excited to find out what.
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liamade · 2 years
Text
Playing in the Field ; Sangi Oneshot
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»»—pairing: choi san and song mingi
summary: Stray bunny hybrid Mingi goes wandering into a field for dinner but is caught by scarecrow San, tasked with protecting the crops.
genre: horror, angst, hybrid!mingi, scarecrow!san
warning(s): mentions of violence, mentions of death
✧ word count: 1395
a/n: san uses it/its pronouns in this by the way !!
*.✧.*✧*.✧.*✧*.✧.*
Mingi begrudgingly treaded through the tall grass, his pout growing each time his stomach growled.
Being a stray was undeniably difficult—the summers were scolding without a fan or A/C and the winters hard to subsist with the thin, tattered clothing he'd been wearing for the past few years or so.
Being a bunny hybrid didn't make stray life any easier either. Bunny hybrids are a prey species, making them a target to everyone.. even fellow hybrids. The life of stray prey is never calm.
Mingi has been in the country for as long as he could remember so it was always small town, 'middle of nowhere', and small town again when he is wandering. He was in between towns again, the only scenery being grass, grass… and more grass. There'd be the occasional farm, sure, but humans were the last things he wanted to worry about.
He walked for hours, fatigue slowly catching up to him as night reared its head.
"Damn, I wish I had a jacket.." he muttered as he wrapped his arms around himself. The seasons were changing and the weather gets pretty rough at night.
More and more endless walking before one of those "barns", as they call it, came into sight. A big red building usually means a wide-open field with food growing from the ground.
He went to pass right by it just like the others but right on time, his stomach growled again, gnawing away at itself in starvation.
Mingi groaned as he looked over to the barn and its field, contemplating his options. "They're all probably asleep by now.. right?"
"...ah fuck it."
Huddled up into himself, he cautiously made his way over to the ratty fence. He kept his ears cognizant of his surroundings just in case someone were to show up.
He couldn't help the sigh that left his lips as they stretched up into a smile when the sweet smell of strawberries somewhere nearby reached his nose. He followed the smell further into the field, getting excited to eat such a satisfying treat after so long.
His ears stood on alert as an eerie giggle scraped at them. A crackling sound could be heard soon after—not much akin to that of bones cracking but more to the likeness of snapping sticks.
Mingi sweatdropped as he could only assume that someone was approaching, the sounds being twigs crunching beneath their feet.
"What a pleasant surprise," a playful voice sounded from behind him, startling him to hastily turn around as he almost tripped over his own feet. "To think a little bunny would grace my farm with their presence."
Mingi's eyes grew twice their size, a shiver running down his spine as another giggle could be heard. He watched as the fingertips of the farm's scarecrow started to animate. The sound of snapping wood only increased as the scarecrow moved, moving its head side to side as if cracking its neck. It slowly pulled its left hand from the wood frame, leaving a clean hole in the middle from where the nails used to confine it. Using its free hand, it is able to force off the other before falling down to its knees.
Mingi stood watching with tears pricking at his eyes. He was terrified, to say the least; his legs would’ve surely given out if he even thought to run.
It slowly rose to its feet, body rolling as it began to stretch and awaken from its long-standing slumber.
"Y-y-you're a…. a scarecrow.."
"Hm, a perceptive little bunny as well? What a delight." Jet black eyes stared back at him and an almost sinister smile teased him. "I'm sure you are aware- the likeness of you are not welcome around here."
"I'm- I'm sorry I was just.. hungry." Mingi stumbled to explain himself, trouble being the last thing he wanted.
"Perceptive but idiotic. Your hunger is not the concern of neither I nor the humans that employ me to protect these crops. I'm sure you are aware of what is going to happen to you."
Its smirk widened to show a perfect set of scarily white teeth. It extended its arms, its pose likened to the one it was nailed into on the wooden frame.
Mingi's eyes frantically searched the darkness as loud caws approached. Crows started to swarm the two causing the male to scream with his lids squeezed shut, scared of his eyes possibly being clawed out.
The crows began to perch themselves upon the scarecrow’s arms, chests high and eyes narrowed as if looking down on the boy. Their midnight-colored feathers almost blended with the tattered clothes donned by the scarecrow.
"You look to be quite young," it suddenly spoke, breaking Mingi out of his paralyzed daze, "Tell you what little bunny, sixty seconds."
With a shaky breath, he hesitantly asked "Sixty… seconds?"
It laughed at him but without a hint of humor rumbling from its chest "I am allowing you time to escape- does my generosity not satisfy you?"
The scarecrow waved its hand to signal the crows to give it space. It took slow, teasing steps towards Mingi, that sinister smirk never leaving its face. Mingi held his breath as its hand glided over his cheek, a gentle whistle coming from the new hole as the wind began to pick up.
The grip on his cheek suddenly tightened; he could already imagine a red handprint forming on his skin. He didn't have the chance to care for the pain—the dark, black eyes that now seemed to glare at him taking most of his focus.
"Or is it.. that you'd rather I kill you in the spot of which you stand?"
"No! No... Please.. San I don't want to die please I'm so sorry.." he begged and sobbed as the reality he was faced with truly began to sink in. This wasn't like being caught eating from restaurant trash cans by the humans- no, the humans wouldn't kill him.. even if they wanted to, they couldn't. But human laws won't save him again. Not this time.
The scarecrow looked taken aback, his grip almost faltering before he regained his composure. "Tell me.. How do you know of my name, little bunny?"
"O-on your shirt. T-there's a name.."
San looked down at its clothes and surely enough, there laid its name embroidered right under its collarbone. It was barely visible at this point with the threads loose and frayed. It'd been given the clothes so long ago that it had forgotten about the personalized detail.
"The children.." it mumbled to itself. Its thumb started to absentmindedly stroke Mingi's cheek as it looked off to the side, trapped in its own thoughts. Mingi didn't dare speak though he was thoroughly creeped out and confused.
San's eyes soon returned to him, but missing a portion of its previous malice and instead clouded with a certain distance. Its thumb continued to caress his cheek before it slowly moved down to his mouth, pulling on his lower lip with an almost desperate demand.
"My name.. Say it again."
Mingi didn't waste time whispering out its name, thinking it better to obey. "...san.. San."
San pulled back with a blank, uninterested look. It held out its arms, allowing the crows to flock their way back over. "Sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven,"
Mingi looked at it confused, hesitantly wiping the tears from his eyes.
"I'd advise you to start running my little bunny; almost forty seconds left."
The boys' ears stood tall with surprise, his throat dry as he took a few steps back before breaking into a sloppy sprint back to which he came.
San watched as he stumbled his way out of the field, surely ruining some of the crops as he ran. Its counting slowly came to a halt though it was barely even close to zero. It remembered the way the children ran just like that… the farmer's children playing a fun game of tag amongst themselves in the field. It just wanted to join them. It just wanted to have fun.
...it didn't want to hurt them.
It quietly walked over to its wooden frame. Its body slowly stiffened, the crackling sound reappearing.
The life drained from its eyes as it thought its last thought till another soul wanders the field
I hope I get to play with you someday my little bunny
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remsmoonlight · 3 years
Text
— title : candy coated promises
— word count : 2.6k words
— pairing : daryl dixon x reader
— summary : a chance conversation between you and daryl leaves you realising just how much of a sponge daryl’s mind is when he comes back from a run with an unexpected gift.
— warnings : mentions of alcohol, light mentions of deaths of loved ones
“ Daryl x reader. Daryl comes back from a run and has found readers fave chocolate and keeps it hidden all day until they have watch together then surprises them with it and gets a big awkward hug from them, making him blush like a tomato on the outside and feeling happy on the inside. “
            ✧��゚: *✧・゚:*   requests are open ! / requested by @phoenixblack89  *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
A rugged backpack is slung lazily over the shoulder of Daryl after a successful run , as relaxed as Daryl could find himself those days, the stress and alertness still molded every inch of his body as if they’d been there since day one. Perhaps they have been, he contemplates. After all, growing up, his life had not been a beautiful, tangled mess of fairytales and light, rather it had been the inspiration for nightmares. Still, he doesn’t dwell on that life unless he has to, the world has chosen to live a different life and that does not hold space for past memories.
For him? The past can be a painful reminder of a way of living that has long since been deceased — focusing on what once was is the best way to take away the focus of living in the present.
Only a few days had been spent at the prison, the majority of the time had been spent making it somewhat fit for purpose, despite no life being there to tend to its upkeep. They’d been burning through what little the group had of their stockpile of supplies, preferring to stay inside the barbed wire fences. To enjoy the moment, how little it may be. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d been able to just rest without the need to tread into a dangerous path .. perhaps it had been at the farm? It feels like it has been a lifetime since they’d had somewhere to regroup, to rebuild their strength to its optimum.
Being cooped up with his group, as much as he thought of them as family, he had slowly began to feel suffocated by the prison’s metal gates — even in the apocalypse do they still do their job well, even a day away has given him the much needed space his soul craved to breathe. Respite that had sorely been needed.
Daryl’s mind wanders off to a conversation had a few months prior, something so insignificant to you yet it stuck to his mind like glue.
“ If I knew the world was gonna end and we’d spend the rest of our lives trying not to get eaten by walkers, I’d have stocked up on my favourite things. “
The hunter turns his eyes to you strangely, almost in confusion as it inks itself into his features as he continues to stare at you. You understand why he’s so confused, it had rather come out of the blue since you had been enjoying the company of the other — a language without words that you are fluent in when the other is around.
“ Huh? “
“ Well, “ you begin, your eyes widen momentarily as you shift to face him, your knees complaining silently at the movement. “ Life is difficult as it is, but you know what makes it a little less hard? “
“ Booze? “ he guesses immediately, his shoulders shrugging with little liveliness.
“ Okay — ! You got me there .. technically ? “ you pause, your brows furrowing as if to allow your mind to thoroughly work through that answer. Your mind retreats back to the days where you spent nights where you should have been studying, to parties where the alcohol appeared to flow without a limited supply.  “ But, your favourite things make this nonsense easier. “
“ Same shit. “
“ You’re no fun today. “ You complain hopelessly, a wispy sigh dancing off silently in the summer’s breeze never to be seen again. Again, you shift your position and allow your chin to rest on your knees.
Night shift of being on watch had been left to the two of you, if anything you enjoy taking the night watches. Your heart takes comfort in a certain tranquility the night brings, leaving time for you to gather your thoughts and to reflect on the day and everything it had brought. The empty space the farm brought only adds to the charm.
Many of those watches had been accompanied by Daryl, in the beginning he’d seen you as nothing more than a nuisance who couldn’t keep quiet. Of course, with the movement of time brings change. You’d found a wavelength where there was less and less venom sent your way. Edges that had spent more time bathed in a haunting concoction of hatred and hurt began to dissolve little by little as he spent more time above air, an understanding had been reached.
“ Ain’t much to be laughin; ‘bout now. “
“ Hm, I suppose you’re right. “ You nod to yourself, your eyes scan the endless horizon of the farm, following the eerie trail the moonlight leaves as it grazes the Earth below. “ Still, I would kill for my favourite chocolate bar. I’d stock up on them if I ever get the chance. “
“ Yeah? Wha’s that? “ He questions you lazily, carrying on the conversation while turning to face you momentarily.
You tell him the brand, going into specific detail as you try to replicate the taste on your tongue from nothing, itching for a momentary break in a world painted red with the blood of the living and the dead. It’s a silly belief, yet anything that helps you to build a fog of a perfect illusion for no matter how long is worth it, the human brain can only take so much darkness surrounding it before it takes a hold that feels as if it will never succumb to the light.
“ Keep y’eye out. Y’might get lucky one day. “
“ Luck is a rare thing to have nowadays, Daryl. “ you whisper, more to yourself than the man who sits by your side. A twinge of pain buried deep within the arms of your words, though not hidden enough as Daryl spots it swiftly. “ It’s becoming rarer each day. “
“ Guess y’gotta make y’own luck then. “ He offers lightly, unknown that his mind has already stored the information away.
He’d developed a fondness of you, his original opinion had been turned on its head and he hated to see even the slightest hint of suffering penciled into your features — unspoken, he’d decided, even in this world, you were made to smile. He’d seen the light and joy that you brought to others, it’s only right that you should experience the same. Even over the smaller things, which is why he would promise to himself he would be on the lookout for the very chocolate you have your heart set on experiencing once again.
Heavy thuds punish the gravel beneath him as he treks back to their new home, observing the complete transformation in their expressions. Even after going through a lifetime’s worth of trauma with these people, realising people who are genuinely glad about his presence returning, even happy to have him there, is still something that he’s to get used to. Every time he finds himself faced with this situation, Daryl recognises the uncomfortable prickling sensation that begins in his fingers and inches outwards, under the veil of self preservation. But Daryl knows better. He has been the fool to such emotions before and that has only left him lost in a sea of silent distress, powerless. No longer does he listen to that mischievous voice in the back of his head that gorges greedily on his self sabotage.
Searching for your whereabouts had been the original plan on his mind, but he’s quick to rid that thought from his mind. Unable to bring himself to just be ready for the surprise on your face.. Or lack of. The conversation had been so long ago that he wonders if it had been no more than a passing wish, left forgotten as a passing fancy that holds more weight to him than you.
The day romantically dances with the dusk that slowly rolls the night on, stars shining so bright without the bright glare humanity brought with it.
“ You’re on watch tonight, they’re already up there. “ Rick informs Daryl with a pat on the back, of course, the smirk that paints his mouth so gleefully is hidden in his retreat.
Steps to the peak point of the guard tower felt as if they have shrunk, the distance feels lesser than normal, he notes to himself. Better now than never, he silently remarks. The confectionary lays safely tucked away in his side pocket, he’d have physically clipped his ear himself had he forgotten to bring it, he’s warmly thankful of his memory in this case.
“ Daryl! “
Closing the door with a lone click the noise alerts you to the presence that joins yours in the darkness. It feels like months since you’d laid your eyes on him, when in reality it had been little over a day. But when you spend twenty four hours with people you now call your family, even the hours you do not see them, time flows at a hauntingly slow pace. Had you your way, you would turn those hours into minutes.
“ When did you get back? “ You ask with a beam, your eyes more colourful than ever.
“ A few hours back. Got ‘nough supplies till a group can go out. “ Daryl answers simply, moving to lean against the railing of the guard tower.
“ You know, you could have taken one of us along. “ You offer, hoping the need is left out of your voice.
Uttered only to Maggie, you’d divulged your fear of losing people. The fear of never seeing those you’ve grown close to clouds your senses, the beating of your heart unable to rest until they are in your line of sight — a thought that if you go with them, you can do something constantly swirls in your vision. Of course, you know that won’t always be the case, but it’s all you can think of when your family temporarily misses a few members.
Winter had brought many challenges, and there had been times when you’d see them come back with scrapes and bruises that would leave your heart aching.
“ Nah, needed to do this by myself. “
“ You sick of us already, Dixon? “ There's a coating of humour as you question him, a smile accompanies your word hand in hand to assure him there’s nothing but humour.  “ I’m telling you now, you’re never allowed to be sick of me at least. “
“ You’d be the first person I’d have’ta get out of my hair. “ He answers back with a gruff, his hand reaches up to ruffle your hair slightly.
“ Don’t be so mean. “ You whine, pushing his hand back with a short burst of laughter with a richness that could rival the purest of golden honey.
A silence overtakes the two of you after the rare display of playfulness that you know most would not associate with the rough looking hunter of the group. It’s in these moments you find yourself looking up and feeling your heart full to the brim with an intense amount of gratitude, that he’s comfortable enough around you to allow you to peek into a different side of the man. This is not something you will ever take for granted.
“ You come back with much today? Or did it look like vultures have hit the spots? “
“ Wasn’t too bad. “ Daryl responds, shaking his head as he speaks. “ We got enough for a while, till we can get a group out. “
“ Hopefully we can make a home out of this place, I don’t think I can take any more of this moving about. “ You confide weakly, your nails pick at each other as you remember the time between the farm and the prison.
Daryl agrees with a huff, the winter had been hard on everyone in the group. The more he studies everyone in the group, the more differences he can see between them and those who had been on the farm. No one is the same as the people they were months prior. Daryl argues that is for the better, a certain amount of ruthlessness is now a tool required to breathe for an extra day in this world.
“ Ain’t my idea of home, but beggars can’t be choosers now. “
“ If we weren’t, I’m sure we’d all be in one of those huge mansions now. “ you sigh heavily, yearning for all the comforts you had come accustomed to. They are long gone now.
“ Y’know, I came back with sumn’ for ‘ya. “ Daryl starts, rugged fingertips descend to reach into his pocket, touching the plastic wrapper that protects the sweet treat. “ ‘Don’t know if y’want it though. “
Your eyes light up at the possibility of a gift, they rival the stir of the stars in the night sky that illuminate the darkness with their might. They may as well cower from the blinding shine as they witness the colourful wrapper come into your view, the audible crinkle brings out a quiet giggle with the grace of a ballet dancer as it twirls away into the air.
“ This is for me? “ You confirm, your hand hesitantly reaches towards his as if waiting for him to tell you that he is playing a silly joke on you.
Only that doesn’t occur.
“ Yeah.. I remembered a while back y’said that ‘ya wanted one. “ Daryl explains as he hands you the chocolate bar, the other hand reaching back to rake his nails against the back of his neck — almost as a distraction technique. “ Thought y’might’a forgot. “
Your teeth plunge deeply into our bottom lip, attempting to quell the grin that is moments from overtaking your features. Even if he’d been unsuccessful in apprehending the chocolate, even the thought that he remembers such a trivial conversation is enough to send a burst of adoration further than any galaxy reached by the heart of a dying star.
“ Daryl.. “ A whisper is spoken as you begin, turning  your sight upwards to meet the man. “ You didn’t have to. “
“ Wasn’t any trouble. “
“ Thank you. “ Gratitude is expressed, you speak with a warmth in your words as you do. “ I mean it. “
Daryl doesn’t speak, it’s not a case of having nothing to say, but rather what he should say. His actions are not done with the intent of receiving appreciation, he does it because he wants to and in his mind, is what’s right. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, unable to take in the intensity of the affection sent his way.
The attention of the hunter is lifted back into reality as he feels a weight against his, arms tangle themselves behind his back and strands from a headful of hair tickle his nose as he realises you’re currently hugging him. The change is slow as he tentatively relaxes into the action, it’s so faint the two of you barely realise it’s happening until a weight sits lightly on each side of your body. He has never realised until now how much he has needed human contact that comes with no ties until now, a connection that doesn’t hinge on the deal of giving and taking as a nothing more than a cold transaction. A content breath of air slowly tiptoes away into the weak breeze that blows through the prison at a leisurely pace, of course, the air does nothing to suppress the heat that burns the cheeks of the man.
“ ‘S nothin’. “
“ Daryl, even if you came back with nothing, you still had the thought there. “ You stress from your position, your grip tightening on the man. “ You wanna share this with me, or what? “
As the night marches on, you wonder if the chocolate could ever be sweeter than one Daryl Dixon. Though, in your heart, you know that may be a fight easily lost against him.
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ao3komorii · 4 years
Text
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 :) ----
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.
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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years
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It's Good | Clintasha
Well-- it's 1:15 and this isn't what I expected to write and post today but it's what happened and I'm not mad at it. It's a deviation from my usual style and I think that's good. I love them and this made my heart happy so I might do more when I need a break. Please enjoy this change of schedule my lovelies!
Pairing: Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff
Word Count: 1.9k
Tags: Fluff, slight angst
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Clint’s fingers weave through her messy red curls, not tugging hard enough to hurt her, only enough to untangle the soft strands. Perhaps, if it were a year ago and the first time she’d stumbled back into the compound— face muddy with streaks of dirt and dried crimson, hair a wild mane and fingers too shaky to do it herself— he would have tugged too hard and earned a shocked yelp. It wouldn’t be his fault— being gentle isn’t really how he operates. At least it wasn’t until it had to be. Now he knows better—
“One or two, Natty?”
It’s taking the redhead a few beats longer than usual to answer, her head slumped towards her chest, and he sighs, quiet enough that he can be sure she doesn’t hear it. He’s not mad at her— or even annoyed— braiding Natasha Romanoff’s hair is one of the few moments of peace he gets to enjoy in his usually chaotic life. One of the few moments he wants. He just wishes it wasn’t here— he wishes it wasn’t so fleeting.
Can you braid hair for the rest of your life and not get tired of it?
He’d like to try.
Just— maybe in a nice house with a dog. Nothing too extravagant— he’ll leave that to Tony— but something cozy. Homey. That’s all he wants— a home. He glances down at the girl in front of him, eyes drawing over the slope of her neck, counting all the little scars— still only seven; that’s good. Maybe he doesn’t want a home— maybe he just wants a home for his home.
“Natty.” He tries again, fingers pushing against her warm scalp, coaxing her tiny body further against his.
She still doesn’t answer and he instantly understands why, her back rising and falling with even inhales and exhales, breaths so much steadier than normal. She’s asleep. Still, he sweeps the fluffy mane as lightly as possible from her cheek, head peeking around to glimpse at her closed eyes— yep, asleep; that’s good. She doesn’t sleep nearly as much as she should. He would never call her out on it. He would call her on other things— and he has, many times— for not eating enough, not relaxing enough, not thinking of her own well being enough— but he would never call her out for not sleeping. He knows better.
He understands.
He has them too— the very same nightmares that have her screaming so loud in her sleep that he’s out of his bed and at her door before his own eyes are even fully open.
It’s why he continues on his mission, his movements somehow even gentler than before.
Grabbing the comb from beside him— a wide tooth thing he picked up once this became a regular happening in order to keep his shitty brush from destroying her curls— Clint rather skillfully parts her hair down the middle, using a band to gather the left half into a loose knot. He learned quickly that if he leaves the halves down at the same time the strands will gravitate back towards each other and re-tangle. It’s like magic how easily her hair becomes untameable. He supposes that’s just her though— wild. Wild but not so free.
He sets the comb back down, running his fingers through her curls one last time before setting to work. Taking three tiny sections from close to her forehead he, almost mechanically, begins to plait the hair on the right half of her head. He always starts on the right. He’s not superstitious but he figures he does it for a reason so who is he to stop doing it now. Testing fate isn’t Clint’s main objective in life— not when he has something to lose.
The movements are locked in his muscles, hands moving from sheer memory. The right strand goes under the middle strand. The left strand goes under the middle strand. Repeat. It’s simple— so simple he wonders why it took him so long to pick it up in the first place. Right strand under, left strand under, repeat. Pick up more hair as you go. Simple. Maybe he just wanted to feel her hands on his for as long as possible— to hear her giggles as she taught him, much too tired for his liking but still mesmerizing. Pick up more hair. Right strand under. Pick up more hair. Left strand under. Natasha is always so damn mesmerizing— even when she’s stumbling through his door, hair still wet from her shower and so worn out that she doesn’t even knock.
He likes it better like that anyway; when she chooses him to help her.
She doesn’t ask for help enough.
He knew that before he started braiding her hair. It simply became more obvious after. He shouldn’t have been so surprised— this is the same girl he saved all those years ago. The same girl he was sent to kill and instead came back with, body tossed over his shoulder, out cold, gun still in his hand and pointed at Nick Fury, daring him to take the next step. The same girl he fought for because something inside him snapped when he had that very same gun aimed at her head and she had begged him to pull the trigger. That was the only time he’s ever seen Nat beg and god if it didn’t spark something almost as wild as her curls inside his chest. He should have known then how hard it would be to get her to ask for help.
Clint sighs again, tying the plait off with another band. He runs his fingers over his work— not half bad. Nat can do it better— of course she can. It's her hair. She can but she chooses not to. So he doesn’t care— not about the little bump halfway down the braid or the way a few strands poke out near the bottom where his movements started to get choppy. None of that matters, only the fact that she’s here, in his arms, finally safe. Even if only for a few hours. His chest squeezes and he forces himself to move his fingers from the completed braid.
God what he wouldn’t do for a secluded house and a golden retriever and a farm.
He starts on the second braid. Under, under, more hair, repeat. He doesn’t know how to farm but it really can’t be that difficult. It would be more for fun than anything. To pass the time. To sit in the sun with this breathtaking woman and not have to think for five minutes. He can’t say that he can picture it— he’s not a liar. Not intentionally, at least. He can’t picture it but he wants to. A dog and a porch and some lemonade. And her. Simple.
It’s so simple and for once something so simple hadn’t taken him ages to learn. He knew right away. It wasn’t like braiding— he didn’t knot his wants the way he knotted her hair for months, fingers stiff and harsh. No, it was simple. How he feels is simple. Love should be simple and with her it is. Loving her isn’t like braiding hair— he didn’t have to learn how to love Natasha he just knew and he did it. He still does it. Like the braiding, it’s now muscle memory. It’s a part of him. It won’t go away.
That’s good.
Sometimes he has to remind himself what in his life is good because, honestly, there aren’t that many things. Most of them— all of them— include the redhead sleeping in his arms. Drinking coffee with her before the sun rises is good. The smell of her cocoa butter lotion on his sheets is good. The softness of her hair, the little black dress she wore to Tony’s party three months ago, the way she stands so close to him at briefings that her shoulder brushes his. Good, good, good. The way his chest feels when she rolls her eyes at his jokes but then the corners of her lips pull up, almost like she’s trying to stop herself from smiling but can’t.
Amazing.
Wonderful.
Life— her smile is life.
She is the embodiment of life— she’s his life.
His entire damn life.
That’s good.
As Clint finishes tying the second braid Natasha stirs against his chest, legs stretching out in front of her and knocking into his which are sprawled on either side of her. Her arms are next, reaching high above her head before falling, landing a little awkwardly against his face. Chuckling, he captures her fingers, smoothing them properly against his cheeks. They’re cold and he’s expecting it, used to the chill of her skin by now and more than happy to share his warmth. She scratches through the stubble on his jaw for a moment, yawning into the dim space of his room.
“What time is it?” She murmurs, rolling her head onto his shoulder.
Her voice is a tad squeaky, laced with the same sleep he can now see clouding her blue eyes and he laughs again, massaging her hands. He has to force himself to not get lost in her stare— a job easier said than done.
“I think eleven— not really sure though.”
She raises a brow, nose scrunching, and he can hear her words before they’re even out of her mouth. They drive a knife through his chest before they’re even out of her mouth.
“Shit ‘m sorry— didn’t mean to pass out.”
If braiding her hair is muscle memory for him then apologizing when she shouldn’t is muscle memory for her. Maybe it would hurt less if she didn’t mean it. But she does— she always means it— and he wishes he could erase the lines around her mouth as it tugs into a frown. He doesn’t have an eraser though.
He only has his arms.
So he does his best to curl them around her shoulders, pressing his face deeper into her wandering fingers. They creep over his jaw and under his eyes, tracing the ridge of his nose and the slight bump that she gave him. He grins at that— she’s a fighter. That’s good. That’s why they’re such good partners— not that she would admit it. She’s too damn hard on herself. Like him tugging on her hair; she’s always too rough.
“How many times do I gotta’ tell you that it’s okay, Natty?” He mumbles, guiding his nose along her fingertips. “You don’t gotta’ apologize.”
She only smiles— I know.
That’s good.
She yawns again, dropping her hands from his face and instead curling them around his arms, her blue eyes fluttering tellingly. It’s what she does when she’s tired but doesn’t want to say anything. Like she’s afraid to tell him that she wants to sleep. Like she’s afraid to sleep at all or she’s afraid he’s going to tell her no. As if he could ever tell her no. There are a lot of things he wants to tell her— ask her. No isn’t one of those things. There are too many other things to let something so silly come between saying them.
Can we paint the walls of our house blue? Can we name our dog Lucky? Will you mar—
Time for bed— he’s losing his mind.
Still, he asks— she always has the deciding choice with him. “You ready to sleep?”
It’s not the first question he would have chosen if he could ask her anything but for now it works— for now it’s good.
Just like her answer— her answer is good too.
It’s a nod and a hum and a “Can you carry me, Clin?”
Yeah, it’s good.
And he knows better than to say no to good.
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