#so it was really interesting. also for whatever reason they didn’t supervise us at all as we came in the doors so i got to sit next

[fingertipsmp3]

That school assembly post is bringing back so many buried memories lol

[iamanemotionaltimebomb]

criticisms of episode 17

Okay, I’ve calmed down, I’ve watched all of episode 17 (haven’t started episode 18 yet) and while I loved parts of it that I thought were really done (particularly dealing with xenophobia and racism, I’ll write a seperate post on that), but I’m sorry, I still have problems with a lot of things in this episode.

This is a long ass post, so I’m gonna put it under spoilers. I will watch episode 18 now and then maybe put two and two together, idk, we’ll see what happens

“I know mom and dad don’t want to risk anybody seeing us, but it’s the middle of the night. So we’ll be in and out before they even wake up.”

Middle of the night is pretty vague language, so let’s be generous and say that Dot and Alex passed out relatively early for whatever reason (TBF to them, they do have 7 kids now), and it’s currently between 7 - 9pm. 

Now, I’m going to assume secondly that Robby and Mo have lived in Philly their whole lives, meaning they’ve lived in a big city their whole lives until fairly recently. As someone who has also lived in or near (like 15 minutes drive) a big city my whole life, you’re taught pretty early about safety and whatnot, especially at night and/or unattended, even if it’s not necessarily by your parents (we had our own version “street smarts” taught to us in school from when I was in preschool until I was in Year 10-11). What this means is that you generally do not see children around Robby and Mo’s age out at night by themselves unless there’s a reason they can’t go home or for other reasons (they’re getting in trouble/bad elements involved/etc.). 

We’re going to give Robby and Mo the benefit of the doubt here and say that living in a small town, where this is not necessarily the same, with cybertronian siblings has made them a bit bold (although I’m going to bring up why this is a problem later as well). They also probably didn’t assume how the Terrans could be ‘exposed’ in such a large city where no one knows about them (although this raised the question for me about how much something like GHOST operates on a national or international scale). 

This would also nicely explain why no adults seem phased by Robby and Mo (and their Terran siblings) being out 'unattended’. The audience knows that the Terrans are analogous to children, but the adults in the show won’t, so to them, Robby and Mo are being attended (although this brought up a lot of interesting world building questions for me about other possible cybertronian/human friendships/relationships and how much autobots still even interact with humans beyond press conferences and whatnot, let alone young children, e.g. do cybertronians now have ‘regular’ jobs with other humans?)

But then we meet Robby’s friend Stevie. A kid who is alone in a skatepark at night. 

It’d be one thing if he was here as a group with others kids his same age or with an adult supervising (that just wasn’t paying attention). But ... he’s literally the only person at this skate park. At night. 

Makes me wonder if the is supposed to be more hints this kid comes from a rough house life or is getting mixed in bad crowds and it just wasn’t very well illustrated at all or if the studio just didn’t have enough budget/foresight to have extra characters in the park. 

You could argue “maybe Philly is just a safe city where even children can go out at night unsupervised”... except we literally see another human nearly getting mugged, even threatened, just a few minutes earlier. 

and Mo, Jawbreaker and Thrash, god, I am baffled by how stupidly Mo handled all of this. The Terrans being naive enough to follow stranger, I could understand that (and even then, Jawbreaker, the youngest of the three actually WAS the cautious one). What the hell was Mo’s excuse? I would’ve thought at her age she would’ve had “don’t talk to or follow strangers” ingrained into her brain. But no, strange lady offers to let her see a wrestling match? Sure, I’ll climb into the dark underground system to see that! 

This isn’t even a “kids are stupid and don’t listen to adults” or Mo being cocky because she has her cybertronian siblings with her because Mo has experience with blindly trusting a stranger who is trying to ‘bribe her’ in a previous episode. In that episode with Swindle, she clearly knows things aren’t right, and she even tells Thrash she thinks it’s a bad idea to trust swindle. That ends up being correct because both she and Thrash get threatened in that episode. And even then Mo still showed maturity and intelligence in that episode because she DID end up calling her mom for help. 

When Jawbreaker got “kidnapped”/forced to fight in this episode, why didn’t Mo contact someone? She may have incorrectly assumed this was still ‘above board’ but when Frenzy then says “and the loser is scrapped for parts”, Mo should’ve absolutely known at that point that they were in danger and needed help, especially because Jawbreaker clearly did not want to fight. Even just showing Mo desperately trying to call her mom would’ve been really great scene added in. 

Mo has previously shown to value safety and the rules her parents taught her, and understand their value and meaning, but in this episode, showed none of that previous experience or teachings. Nor does she seem to truely grasp what kind of danger her, Thrash or Jawbreaker really were in (I hope this gets resolved in the next episode).

Also, I’m kind of angry at Bumblebee taking the Robby and Mo along for a “real autobot mission” instead of at least checking with them where their parents are and if they even knew where they were, but, whatever...

[zuko-always-lies]

ATLA AU Idea which is Basically “Azula Raises Katara for Several Years”

I’ve had this idea kicking around my head for months, and, since I have no intention of writing it, I figure I might as well post it. To be clear, the premise of this fanfic is “Azula, Katara, and Sokka get traumatized in ways they weren’t in canon, but the events that traumatize them potentially help lead to a better outcome in the long-term,” so be prepared for rough sailing.

This idea is very much inspired by all the “Katara gets kidnapped young and raised within the Fire Nation royal family” fanfics, which I think can be excellent if done with care. However, in a situation where Katara and Azula develop a relationship when they are young, the natural tendency is to make Katara the “motherly” or parental one, and I wanted to turn that on its head. I also wanted to explore some of the possible implications of Azula taking on adult sized responsibilities as a child and of the perverse ways that power differentials can influence things. I also wanted to explore some of the ways that Azula’s commitment to duty and responsibility can be a positive thing. Another ~2000 or so words under the cut.

The premise is that, shortly after Zuko gets banished, Katara gets captured by the Southern Raiders as the last Southern Water Tribe waterbender and brought back to Caldera and presented as a trophy to Ozai. Ozai’s first reaction is to have her executed, but fortunately Azula is also present in the throne room. For reasons which Azula doesn’t entirely understand herself but which definitely have something to do with her guilt over what happened to Zuko, Azula decides to intervene, despite the risks involved. However, not being Zuko, she manages to do this without provoking Ozai, through convincing him that Katara is more valuable alive as a trophy, a symbol, and a plaything than she is dead. Ozai doesn’t really care that much, so he pawns Katara off to Azula and basically forgets about her, accidentally using language that implies to Azula that Katara and taking care of Katara is now Azula’s responsibility. Azula is at an age where she’s started to take her responsibilities and duties with deadly seriousness.

Katara doesn’t know what to make of this all.  She’s been severely traumatized by being kidnapped and torn from her family and culture and by having her life threatened by Ozai. She’s aware that Azula saved her life, but the language Azula used to in order to do so sounds warped and screwed up to Katara, who is unaware that Azula had to say what she said in order to manipulate Ozai.  Katara noticed that Azula seemed a little nervous when she talked to Ozai, but Katara doesn’t initially know how risky and dangerous what Azula did was.

Again, Azula takes her responsibilities with deadly seriousness. So, when it becomes her responsibility to take care of Katara, Azula is determined to do the best possible job, even though she’s 11 and Katara is also 11. If there were any responsible adults present, they would intervene and talk to Azula about how awful an idea this is, but there aren’t any left.  In any case, Katara’s waterbending abilities make it so she has to be kept under some kind of supervision, Azula is perceptive enough to worry that Katara might be mistreated if she got fostered out, and in any case Azula is convinced she can do a better job than any foster family.

Azula is a badly abused 11 year old who grew up indoctrinated in an absolutely toxic ideology. She’s never really seen good parenting in her life. The idea of her trying to parent should be terrifying. Yet she’s aware that Ursa didn’t do the best job with her, and since Katara isn’t a “monster” Azula sees no reason to replicate Ursa’s behavior. Azula believes the way that Ozai treats her is absolutely justified, even though she has some knowledge of its negative effects on her, but since Katara isn’t a princess who has immense duties to her nation and family, Azula sees no reason to treat her that way. In fact, Azula is aware of ignorance about parenting, and tries to read as much about parenting as she can. She also reads as much about the water tribes as she can in order to try to understand Katara better.

In terms of being a “parent,” Azula is overall a little standoffish, absent, and demanding.  She doesn’t need to directly look after Katara’s physical care(she has servants for that), but she has to look after Katara’s emotional needs, her education, and her overall care. As a temporary measure, she arranges that Katara sleep on a cot in Azula’s room because she’s not sure where to put her, and this arrangement becomes permanent. This means Azula and Katara usually eat together, since Azula has taken most of her meals in her room, but Azula is very busy with her duties, training, and education, so they don’t spend much time together in a typical day. Azula has Katara officially declared a servant(but one who only reports to Azula) in order to regularize her status and allow Katara to draw a salary(most of which Azula holds in escrow for when Katara comes of age), but Azula only rarely asks Katara to do work; Katara had far more chores back in the Southern Water Tribe. On the other hand, Azula demands that Katara work hard in her education and on practicing her waterbending. Katara is too old to be sent to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls, but Azula obtains tutors for her, in addition to getting her whatever waterbending scrolls she can and trying to obtain the best possible bending coaches for Katara’s waterbending, sometimes even stepping in herself to try to coach Katara.

Azula is aware that Katara wants to return home, but she doesn’t think that Ozai would ever allow that, and, in any case, Azula is an imperialist who thinks Katara is better off being “civilized” in the Fire Nation than she would be back in her ignorant and “savage” home.  A large portion of Katara’s education is intended to “civilize” her. Azula doesn’t have firm ideas of where adult Katara will fit into Fire Nation society but plays with the idea of marrying her into the nobility or of making her governor of the conquered Water Tribes. So overall, Azula does a shockingly good job as “parent” given she’s an abused 11 year child acting within the toxic norms of the Fire Nation, but that still means she does a bad job, and her relationship with Katara remains pretty toxic.

Ozai and the rest of the court have some awareness of what’s going on, but they honestly don’t care as long Azula continues to be an exemplary princess, fulfills her duties, and continues to exceed expectations. Some members of the court even find Azula’s personal commitment to “civilizing” a savage to be inspiring. However, the burden of taking care of Katara means that Azula is under even more pressure than she is in canon, with the good news being that Azula has something more of a support network than in canon. Katara provides some measure of support, and in this AU Azula never has the energy to really push Ukano’s political career forward, and so Mai never has to leave, so Ty Lee also stays put.

Katara, again, is severely traumatized by her experiences, and to a degree feels helpless. She knows that she can’t escape and go back home. She’s resentful of Azula and particularly of the efforts to cut Katara off from her culture, but at the same time Katara ends internalizing some Fire Nation culture. Yet after a while Katara gets a sense of how toxic the environment is at the Royal Court, and she soon(after overhearing a conversation between Mai and Ty Lee which was supposed to be confidential) learns what happened to Zuko and realizes how much Azula risked in order to protect Katara, and Katara can’t help but feel intense gratitude to Azula for it. Azula also gradually becomes more and more respectful of Water Tribe culture, and Katara deeply appreciates the emphasis Azula places on Katara mastering waterbending.  Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee are also the only people in the Fire Nation who are ever consistently kind to Katara, and Katara ends up deeply bonding with each one of them, although the resulting relationships are not the healthiest. Katara eventually starts to develop a sense of how each one of them has been deeply victimized by Fire Nation culture. Azula goes to great lengths to hide her own struggles and pain from Katara, but Katara spends a lot of time with her and sometimes notices. Several years in, Katara notices some positive changes in Azula and begins to play with the idea that she can positively influence Azula so that Azula will be become a kinder and anti-imperialist Firelord.

Azula thinks Katara’s waterbending is the coolest thing ever(well, aside from firebending at least), a sentiment shared to a lesser degree by Mai and Ty Lee. Azula also thinks that learning to fight is vital, so she brings Katara along for her spars with Mai and Ty Lee. Katara makes rapid progress, particularly due to her access to many waterbending scrolls. As a result of this, and of Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee not separating, all four girls end up being significantly better combatants than they were in canon.

Mai and Ty Lee have complex reactions to Katara, but they eventually come to like and even love her. There is an element of resentment present because Katara takes up so much of the ever busy Azula’s time, but Azula forces her friends to spend time with Katara, and they end up bonding with her.  Katara’s empathy and compassion works in her favor here, especially since she rapidly develops into one of the few people who sees and appreciates them for who they are. Mai and Ty Lee also find Katara’s waterbending to be an interesting and intriguing method of combat, soon come to respect Katara’s budding combat skills, and, as people deeply unhappy with their own places in society, they find Katara’s stories of life at the south pole to be interesting. Mai has issues with Katara being a little too “motherly,” but on the other hand appreciates that Katara pays attention to Mai’s actual desires and needs.  Ty Lee sometimes finds Katara to be a little too similar to her for comfort, but also at the same time appreciates Katara’s caring side and the way she’s not reluctant to give her positive attention. Frequently Azula is too busy to join her friends, so Katara, Ty Lee, and Mai end up hanging out together. Freaks and outsiders stick together.

Azula, through her research into the Water Tribes, personal experience with Katara, and interest in Katara’s waterbending, begins to subtly yet strongly move in anti-imperialist directions and doubt Fire Nation ideology, but her transformation has scarcely begun by the time Book 1 begins. She does benefit from better relationships with her friends, though, and Katara gives her some emotional support. Meanwhile, to a lesser degree Mai and Ty Lee have had their own doubts develop about imperial ideology.

Azula tends to see her relationship with Katara mainly in terms of responsibility and duty, but she ultimately comes to fiercely love Katara.

Zuko and Iroh do their things, just like in canon.  They receive vague reports about Katara’s presence in court, but they don’t understand the significance of them.

Sokka gets badly traumatized by losing his sister and believes her to be killed by the Fire Nation. Hakoda, Bato, and the water tribe warriors also still leave to fight the Fire Nation. Sokka is absolutely dedicated to seeking vengeance on the Fire Nation, and when he accidently defrosts Aang, he sees an opportunity.

Book 1 largely plays out the same, with minor changes. I think an interesting one is that Suki ends up joining a badly understrength Team Avatar and temporally leaving her warriors behind in order to aid Avatar Kyoshi’s reincarnation with the fulfillment of his destiny.

Book 2 opens with Azula being sent to capture Zuko and Iroh. Mai and Ty Lee tag along, in part with the hope of making sure Zuko is captured without being harmed, and Azula decides to bring Katara too rather than leave her alone in Caldera.  However, the operation goes south, and Azula, Mai, Ty Lee, and Katara soon find themselves hunting the Avatar. Katara’s loyalties are about to be tested like never before…Meanwhile, Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee all have seeds of anti-imperialism growing within them, but what will it take for these seeds to blossom and give fruit? Meanwhile, Azula grapples with not only her canon trauma but also the trauma she experienced through her parentification.

[enduracarrotchips]

YouTuber AU

Hello welcome to Dating Scandal but with Twitter Involved (nightmare)

A little exposition here: 

Link, Zelda, Sidon, Revali, and Riju are the most popular group of youtubers on the internet and have a huge fanbase that likes to theorize, draw fanart, and write fanfiction about them. Disclaimer, I don’t actually interact with real-person fandoms myself lol there’s just too much potential for drama and misunderstandings & they’re always bound to end in a dumpster fire but that is sort of what this au is about so.

Impa, Mipha, Daruk, and Urbosa are family friends that appear in a lot of their videos/streams. 

(This is an art blog I swear)

enter vidcon 20XX

Link: 

blows stuff up/sets stuff on fire with a side of cooking vids and gaming

most are filmed outside, he does those challenges where you try to cook stuff with limited ingredients/materials

has the largest fanbase of all of them, but not the most…intimidating.

does a lot of collab videos, mostly with Impa, Daruk, and Riju because they have similar interests/channels, but Zelda appears in his videos and is seen filming and the stans read too far into it

simps. i’m pointing at you.

Most popular videos are “shield surfing on rock!—how I broke my leg” “can Daruk eat Impa’s motorcycle?” and “how to inhale ranch dressing.”

Twitter handle is @ arsonistslullabye because he’s a hozier fan

45m subs

Zelda:

theories, analyses, conspiracies, and the occasional e x p e r i m e n t

she once got link to eat a frog for 50 bucks.

most people argue that she’s better than more popular YouTubers because she actually has quality content to give to the world and she has a lot of defensive supporters

She used to get a lot of hate before Urbosa spoke up about it and scared the bejeezus out of everyone

has an actual posting schedule

“Happy Sunday everyone, it’s Zelda Hyrule and today we will be talking about cryptozoology and why blupees exist, you cowards.”

Twitter handle is @ zeldaofhyrule and she is pan. just so you know. One of those calm extroverts that mystify me to this day.

18m subs

Sidon:

fashion/life hacks. Like gourmet troom troom but if they were real people.

Has the 2nd largest fanbase

most of them are girls

Sidon has a boyfriend though, which he told everyone at VidCon a few years ago

cue the drama and shipping and the entire fandom trying to figure out who the boyfriend is. A well known reddit thread emerged that presented the common guesses being Link, Sidon, and Zelda.

“But it can’t be Zelda, Sidon’s gay.”

“I’m not in the fandom but I thought Zelda was a boy??”

“Did you just say Sidon? Is that a typo? Are you saying that Sidon’s dating himself?”

Sidon x Sidon became a fandom joke.

Don’t look at me I’m just setting up all the worldbuilding. every fandom has their weird dark sides and Sidon x Sidon is the Linkcest of the Sidon YT fandom.

Mystery BF is actually Bazz, a pretty inconspicuous guy who appeared in a few of his videos. This was confirmed a year ago, but everyone still ships him with other YouTubers because they’re convinced he was lying to throw them off his scent. He really can’t catch a break and this is why you should not ship real people.

Twitter handle is @ officialprincesidon

says “beguiling” a lot

21m subs ᕙ( ͡❛ ▿ ͡❛)ᕗ

Mipha:

Sidon’s sister, hasn’t posted a single video but just has the channel for show because she appears in so many of Sidon’s videos as a model for his makeup tutorials and whatnot

has 328k for that. Everyone loves her, she’s great. @ mimipha

Revali:

Link’s sworn rival

Link thinks they’re friends

He kept popping up in link’s Twitter threads and making snarky comments until zelda called him out for not even following link (so why was he stalking his acc) which kept the Twitter drama to a minimum

Revali was the catalyst of a few popular memes and that’s where most of his subs come from.

drags link into a few challenges that always get a ton of views because of how competitive they get

“ITS JUST ASININE” is a running joke that everyone tries to get him to say. His @ is itsjustasinine as well

Urbosa is the only person who can win an argument with him

5m subs and growing rapidly. newer to youtube than everyone else.

Impa:

Doesn’t have a channel she’s just a mutual friend of Mipha, Zelda, and Link

Rides a motorcycle, so she is used in a few of Link’s videos.

@ ihaveamotorcycle because she thinks having a motorcycle is a personality trait. the most unruly on Twitter when it comes to replying to fan’s stuff, leaking upcoming videos and generally causing chaos.

Mipha’s girlfriend. That’s how she met Zelda and Link.

Urbosa:

Is actually a model, but she has a ton of YouTuber friends because she’s known Zelda since birth.

when she entered the youtube community she didn’t realize she would be adopting like 15 children

5m subs. her videos are professional & related to her modelling career. @ urbosasfury

I feel like she would do unboxing vids. I’m not sure what she’s unboxing.

Daruk

Just a friend of Link’s, fun guy. yells a lot. once ate a rock and had no reaction.

people are scared of him for that reason

Riju:

yoga & gymnastics & “ha look at how flexible I am its eAsY” videos

you know the type

she also does reactions and is sponsored by save the sand seals charities which she is very enthusiastic about. She’s also Urbosa’s niece and the only minor in the gang (15). I like to think that the champions YT community is actually not creepy so everyone respects her a ton

doesn’t post frequently, she mostly appears in Link’s videos to jump out of airplanes or whatever. And sometimes Zelda’s if she’s interested in the topic. 500k subs, but she’s always really popular when she appears in Link’s videos.

VidCon:

In the months leading up to VidCon, some fans on the internet made a few discoveries: first of all, that the inside of Link’s house is painted green. This is a big deal because all of his videos are filmed outside either in his backyard or on trips that he and the brosquad go on to do…whatever bros do. explosions. idk. The point is he had some announcement about VidCon and filmed it inside. Only the wall and a potted plant were shown.

However, the colour was similar to the the shade of Zelda’s living room. Fans dug through years and years of old videos and found a clip of Zelda walking through a hallway, where there was an open door and a glimpse of a houseplant.

There were 2 types of responses to the theory:

“They could just be roommates guys calm down”

���and they were ROOMMATES?”

others pointed out that Link could just not have a house and had to crash in Zelda’s

Some guy on reddit claimed he had a botany degree and declared that the houseplants in the clips were not of the same genus. Normal people pointed out that the plant would have grown 4 years between the clips and would look considerably different.

#Zelink trended on twitter for a while and people posted other old clips from both of their channels and the frog video blew up again

Impa retweeted a post tagged as #zelink with “rofl” and later publicly apologized for causing confusion.

Fans noticed that in the “can a motorcycle drive over my arm” (it was clickbait he’s fine) episode 2 years ago, Link was eating out of a paper lunch bag with his name written on it in handwriting that a few people claimed to look like Zelda’s, leading people to believe that she had packed him a lunch.

However, this theory was shot down with the counterargument that Zelda can’t cook. although. i mean how much skill do you need to make a sandwich.

No one knows what tumblr is doing at this time

Zelda wore a scarf in her “Save the Sand Seals” video that matched identically to the scarf Link wore when he travelled to Hebra to film a shield surfing video, but it’s been debated wether it’s actually the same scarf or not.

Neither Zelda nor Link has spoken up about the theories, and besides Impa’s one slip on twitter, neither has any of their friends. Zelda received a lot of backlash for the assumption that she was dating Link because he has a lot of delusional fans that didn’t want her to “steal their man” or whatever the hell that type of fan would get mad about

Oh yea and bolson & karson run a zelink fanpage on twitter sorry I forgot about that

after that whole mess, everyone was even more anticipant of VidCon in the hopes that some of their questions would be answered.

The whole batch went to VidCon this year: Link, Impa, Daruk, and Riju are a gang while Sidon and Mipha go together and Zelda & Revali each go separately. Urbosa is there for supervision moral support

Zelda has always been much better at dodging questions that she doesn’t want to answer than anyone else, so her Q&A went without a hitch. When asked to confirm the rumours she said “which one?” and then moved on to the next question (without actually confirming any rumours).

Link is generally a more awkward person but eventually said that he had filmed the video in Zelda’s house because it was nicer and didn’t realize it would cause such an uproar. Fans were disappointed, but Bolson claimed he saw Link and Zelda exiting the hotel elevator on the same floor after Link’s Q&A session. No one believed him.

Fans went back to theorizing over who Link, Zelda, and Sidon were all dating, because apparently they can’t just be dating unknown people and have to be with other YouTubers

Sidon and Bazz got engaged about a week after VidCon, making at least 4 preteen girls cry

actually try 4 million

Sidon x Sidon made a brief comeback but Sidon spoke up about his fandom for the first time ever on twitter and told everyone that no, he was not dating himself. eventually, everyone settled down and accepted that none of them were in a relationship save for a few loud fans.

Link and Zelda still got the occasional “when will you tell us who you’re dating?” comment but most of them were joking and the people who still hardcore shipped them were generally frowned upon. Zelda’s popularity went up after VidCon and she regained the 200k subscribers she’d lost after the first theory dropped.

Two months after VidCon, Link posted a video titled “Zelda and I’s House Tour!” and gave around 45 million people a heart attack

as revealed in the video, they had actually been dating since they were 16 and everyone’s just a fool.

the potted plant is named Hestu.

[obeymehasinfluncedmythoughts]

Brothers as New Parents

Featuring Poly!Mc.

Guess who decided to finally finish this oneeeeee. I used my parents for inspiration for some of these. Sadly my getting knocked out by a carpet story didn't qualify 😔

Lucifer

Despite the name and the whole demon thing, Lucifer is actually a pretty decent father.

In the beginning though, he's really lost.

Like, the only baby he's ever raised is Satan and technically that doesn't count, so he's kinda confused here. Which really freaks him out.

Things get easier once the kid can finally walk, but don't expect Lucifer to really understand babies too much, or to like them either. They're way too noisy and dirty for him to actually enjoy. 

But that doesn’t mean he isn’t a good dad.

Sure, he's not amazing, no parent naturally is, but he isn't reckless with your child and genuinely makes attempts to keep them alive. 

He just, kinda waits till the kid isn’t spitting up daily or wearing diapers to actually like their company

Before that it just feels like another job. Or like he’s watching his brothers. 

He loves his child but, uh, he’s going to be the type of dad to forget which baby is his if we’re being honest. 

Mammon

He's really good a keeping babies entertained. Like, really good.

(Who would have known babies also like shiny things that jingle?)

Also loves to spend money on them. Like, legit any baby left under his supervision will be dressed in absurdly priced outfits. It's a little frustrating to wash these clothes, especially considering how dirty kids can get.

But besides all the spoiling and the playing, Mammon is clueless.

Like what do babies do?? What do they need? Are they supposed to sleep for that long??

He regrets not reading the baby books Satan recommended.

He's extremely clumsy as a dad, but in like that way where only he gets hurt but your child never does.

(Despite being so young, you're pretty sure the kid laughs every time he face plants.)

Likes to watch TV with the baby. The kid's probably seen every action movie known to man (and demon) by this point.

Leviathan

Levi isn't good with pregnancy, but he is pretty decent with kids.

Something about his personality really draws them to him

(Which is a great examination as to why most children must have to be taught how to share. Leviathan is a bad influence)

He kinda only ever takes over the "fun" parts of being a dad. Not because he doesn't try though. He does, really, but he often finds himself at a loss when it comes to dealing with spit-up or diapers or the little quirks babies develop.

Levi's the third oldest. He didn't have to deal with that stuff. None of them really had to, as raising angels is kinda a community effort. Seeing as Lucifer wasn't exactly the maternal type, he'd spent his years with his brother watching over kids. Never being beside them.

I think he's especially freaked out if he has a daughter. Like, he doesn't know what to so for the most part with any child, but girls are even more foreign to him, seeing as he's only ever had brothers. Well, besides Lilith, but she's a different story.

It's not really bad, he's just new to everything, but you'll probably give Lucifer an earful for not at least giving more responsibilities with Satan.

Most definitely gives his kid toy weapons and costumes to play with. They can't even walk yet but he's got a chest with princess dresses and lightsabers ready to go.

Satan

Satan is pretty much the most normal dad you could ever ask for.

Yeah, a normal demon, spell-casting dad, but norm nevertheless.

He's always the one to offer to take over your shifts in the night (He will not sub for his brothers though. They can fuck right off).

Buys you your first mother's/father's/whatever you choose to call your parental title's day gift because everyone else most likely forgets amongst the stress of baby.

Most DEFINITELY tries to do that whole "all natural" baby thing, but probably realizes a few days in that breastmilk is not only hard to obtain in the Devildom, but most demons don't really give a samn about cruelty free items (Mass produced cotton included).

^Asmo and him did this together btw. But Asmodeus did it for clout whilst Satan did it for the baby's health.

He'll dress his kid up like him. The clothes are still ugly as sin.

Asmodeus

Your kid will be internet famous before they turn five months old.

Asmo does not understand the word "privacy" or the concept of "not plastering his child's life for everyone to see"

But, you must admit, he does dress your baby up in the most adorable ways.

She might just be the only person he puts above the two of you, both as individuals, and as a couple.

(^I don't think all the brother's would think this way. Some probably still internalize their angel backgrounds or have even formed their own opinions onto where a kid places in a relationship. I might get into it more if asked but I'm leaving this here for now)

He does everything with the kid, when he has them, and if the child is biologically his (which will be extremely apparent), that kid will be with him all the damn time.

He wants his baby to be beautiful like his parents, but most of all, he wants his baby to be happy.

Will most likely turn into the exact definition of "the cool mom" from mean girls but that's far off from now.

Until then, he'll just stroll around the mall, showing his baby all the sparkly things they'll eventually love.

Beelzebub

Beel would have been a pretty normal dad if not for his more older-brother mentality.

Like, the guy has never really been around kids. He's been around Belphegor. Which isn't a huge age gap but there's still that looming protective older-sibling trait there.

He kinda sees the kid, no matter who or where it comes from, as just another sibling.

After what happened with Lilith though, he's more prone to be more protective over girls. He doesn't even recognize he's doing it tbh.

(There's actually a lot of open wounds regarding Lilith that show up in his parenting skills, but they develop a lot later)

He always has to know where your kid is at, but he doesn't necessarily need to be with them.

Like, he's afraid of something horrible happening, but he trusts his brothers, and you, to be able to handle it. He just needs the constant reassurance.

Very insistent on keeping a feeding schedule through, and is known to freak out when they refuse to eat, or get an upset stomach, or something along the lines of the digestive process goes wrong.

Beel is probably the best at bath time. Man can make some awesome rubber duck voices, and the plotlines he thinks up are very interesting.

Belphegor

The one the most scared to have a baby is the one who loves to spend the most time with the baby.

Why? Because babies sleep most of the fucking day. This is a great bonding experience.

And for some reason, you suspect it's due to his powers, the kid will sleep through anything when the two of them are together.

The minute they sleep in their room, or in a cot next to your bed, they'll be waking up hourly for some reason or another.

And it's like, you can't have the baby sleep with Belphegor all the time because if the kid genuinely needs some attention, he needs to wake up and make it known.

But damn are you tired.

Like you some how think raising a child with seven partners is harder than one, because no one should feel this exhausted when they are allowed to take at least three naps a day.

Outside that conundrum, he's a very quiet dad. He'll just sit by the baby and play with them, usually via rattle, enjoying the cute little noises they make and the faces that grace their features.

He'll miss this when the baby starts crawling.

[ao3komorii]

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.

[noirbriar]

FFXV AU: Controlled Chaos

Regis Lucis Caelum was able to change the legacy of his rule by winning a War with Niflheim and the Astrals. However he still has a country to rebuild and a government to rein in. Also, let it be known he is only human and is not immune to being petty either.

Cor is struggling NOT to string people up, Nyx is suffering, Noctis has the urge to throw hands and Clarus just wants to go home. Ardyn? He’s just tickled by all the chaos that aren’t even his own doing. And it seems that regardless of which timelines, everyone seems hellbent on doing one (1) damn wedding at least regardless whose it is.

A short for The Lion, the Coeurl and the Cub AU. This one takes place during To Heal The Sun while Prompto is away from Insomnia, recovering. 

——

Regis Lucis Caelum CXIII huffs and tosses another folder aside, wondering why is it that a battle of life and death has wiped out essentially everything but folders and paperwork? The King knows he is procrastinating and it shows. But hey, who is going to call him out for it? There is nobody else here aside from a Guard and Glaive on duty, a young cadet, the ever familiar Libertus and the ancient royal ancestor also in his room for whatever reason.

The Shield, Marshal and Captain are all tending to the reshuffling of the military, now that the War has ended and magic is lost. His retainers and Glaive have all left him to his own devices without supervision so, too bad.

Its quiet. 

The afternoon sun brings a lull with the humid Lucian air. Apart from the occasional chewing of apples from his couch, the new Grand Duke of Lucis comfortably lounging like an abhorred palace cat who found his place to terrorise for now while reading an old book of the Lucian Court records. Ardyn Lucis Caelum doesn’t have anything to do really, just do what he wants and stay out of trouble, Regis is absolutely fine with that. All in all, a dull boring day with a mountain of problems higher than the Rock of Ravatogh.

The lost of daemons and the disappearance of the Crystal, Astrals and magic have also garnered some concern from the masses. Princess Lunafreya have effectively quelled those before the Battle when they sent out a call for aid. Yet it didn’t stop some who were simply too zealous in their worship of the Six.

Then there is the issue with Niflheim. Insomnia wanted peace and instead they found themselves saddled with a broken country on top of rebuilding their own. Crown citizens displaced from the Fall are also slowly being allowed back into the city along with immigrants and those seeking asylum, though they are prioritising essential workers first. Many Lucians have also voiced their concern for the royal family, namely, Noctis’ ‘prospects’ and the future of the Lucis Caelums after the near collapse of the monarchy.

On the other hand, was also a smaller problem of complaints from disgruntled nobles regarding his Marshal and Captain having a ‘conflict of interest’…

The King then idly ponders over the issue of territories, until he decided that he needed a break from all this with a low sigh. He rubs the furrows between his eyes until suddenly, he remembered.

“Ostium.”

“Yes, your Majesty?” Libertus steps forward.

“Oh, be at ease, I just want to chat for awhile.” Silence. That peaked the curiosity of the ancient relative in the room. If one thing remains a constant, is that gossip does not divide between generations.

“Galahd has always thrived in natural resources, textile, fishery and have been generally self-sufficient enough. Would your people be keen if theres an increase in say, tourism to aid in your region’s economy?”

“Anything that helps would be welcome, my King. I used to run bar with Nyx once we turned of age while running a resistance. But shortly, Galahd fell and we came to Insomnia. More business is always a boon, as long as we preserve the nature. Nature is of utmost importance to us. I’m not very sure about anything else I’m afraid. You may need to ask Nyx, I mean, the Captain, he knows these things.”

“Oh, would he now?”

“Um, like I said, Nyx is, was? Part of Old Blood, Old Ruling Clans. Like long, lines of leading hunters of the community. He knows better about looking after the Tribe and economy kinda things. He may not be active since Galahd is mainly a matrilineal and matrilocal society and he is last of his clan while there are other clans looking after Galahd. Nyx still learned that sorta stuff anyway.”

“So. Like. Similar to Lucis’ nobility?”

“Um, probably yeah? But Ulrics are far older than most clans, from days before our ancestors have settled in Galahd’s Isles. So they will always be an important figure among Galahdians regardless.”Libertus continues without a thought.

“I can attest to that fact. I have long heard of the Ulrics in my days, old nomads once upon a time. Now that I think about it, it makes sense that they were probably the ones that preserved Etro’s name.” Ardyn thumbs a page idly.

Silence.

“Ardyn.”

“Yes?”

“…From one King to another, how much problems will I cause if I were to make unannounced policies?” Regis asks Ardyn wryly.

“Oh plenty I dare say.” Ardyn looks up from the Court Records.”But may I take this time to remind you, oh dear nephew of mine, of the old solheim saying.’Its the farmer who herds the Anaks, not the Anaks who herd the farmer ’. You are the monarchy. Not your council. Do act like it.”

“Ah, wise words indeed.” Regis muses, who would have thought his old worry of how his legacy would be remembered in future be null and void with the War won, and the age old burden and curse on his family broken.

“Besides, can’t be worse than all of your ancestors and look! They still turned out pleasantly dandy if I were to say so myself.” Ardyn tuts delopringly.

Regis barks a laugh.

Dull days like these once was once a luxury, one that he now intends to indulge himself in fully.

——

Everyone from the guards to the workers have been busy restoring the Crown City. Either with the repairs and supplying basic needs, or even helping displaced Lucians get settled somewhere. However, entry into the kingdom is still limited with tight restrictions, mostly for those who are directly helping with the rebuild.

Noctis has been in a mood since Lunafreya had left Insomnia with Ravus. After absconding with his best friend that is. But other priorities require his attentions now. Prompto is strong and he’ll be alright. Deep down he knows his friend needs the time and space away to get better. For now, they will focus on getting their home and city back together again before he returns. Prompto made his sacrifices, this is what he needs to do, at the very least for his precious friend and his people that are still waiting to return home.

The entire operation seems fine, slow but steady.Till Ignis’ uncle, Senior Advisor Augustus Scientia, hurries into the King’s study, his face grim. Regis puts down his trade documents to the side.

“Your Majesty, I’m afraid something is wrong.” Augustus starts after a bow.

“Well everything seems wrong these days, Augustus.” Regis huffs, gesturing to the array of paper scattered around him.”Alright, tell me.”

“The council, they are here and, pardon me, ‘demanding’ an audience when you have the time to spare.” This got the prince’s attention from his short King’s Knight break.

“Aren’t they told to go back and stay put in Lestallum to look after the citizens awaiting re-retry? What about our guards at the border? Why did they let them through?” Noctis asks, his eyebrow furrowed in annoyance.

“Your Highness, they were being a nuisance-”

“Aren’t they always?”

“Noctis.”

“-Yes well. They were putting out so much demands and creating unnecessary obstructions to our men it left us no choice but to at least lead them into the Citadel. Ignis is attending to them at the moment. ”Augustus explains, before taking a glance to assess his King. Regis is silent, as he leans back into his creaky armchair, thinking for a long while that even Noctis is starting to fidget uneasily.

“Humph. Well then. Let them wait.” Regis finally replies.” These reports are not going to sign themselves.” And back to trade negotiations he goes.

Augustus bows and was about to excuse himself when. Regis stops him again.

“Actually, Augustus, do get Ignis to focus on the refurbishing of the north wing, I want to sleep in proper quarters sometime this season. I also would like to believe our Grand Duke will be more than pleased to tend to our honoured Lords and Ladies in your nephew’s place.”

With that order, the Senior Advisor smiles pleasantly, bows and takes his leave.

Noctis turns to his father in horror,” Dad. Do you actually WANT a national incident? After we somehow bullshit our way to show that Ardyn Izunia, Niflheim Chancellor and Ardyn Lucis Caelum, the Founder King’s brother , are two different people by some divine whatnot?”

“Don’t be rude, Noctis. Your many times royal great grand uncle is as harmless as a Tonberry could be.”

“…” Noctis flops back down the couch, mentally calculating the casualties and how many people they need to fill the empty seats of the Lucian Government, which they had just found replacements for after the Fall.

——

The council did not return until the Crown City is restored and ready to welcome the people back once more.

——

When the Lucian Council officially gathered in the newly rebuilt Citadel at long last, its been nearly a year since Prompto had left for Tenebrae. Prompto often sending pictures of the Tenebraen countryside, the gardens and little things he sees in Luna’s kingdom. That includes the wefies of them both, snapshots of afternoon tea with Iris and Talcott, and strangely enough, a Niflheimian little girl. Who has taken to following Prompto around while staying in Tenebrae as negotiations were underway in Fenestala Manor between the two regions.

Noctis, unfortunately, is less lucky.

The tired Crown Prince pointedly ignores The Look from Ignis and tries to focus on the boring formalities and greetings of the pompous, arrogant, upper class nobility going around that is their Lucian Court. It’s not even 5 minutes and he wishes for something to happen.Anything. At least, to excuse himself out of this.

With the Shields beside their charges, Ignis takes his place on the other side of Noctis as usual, since he is part of the Prince’s inner court. Cor and Nyx further down beside Clarus, as heads of their respective divisions. Which was unusual in itself as they are usually standing by the King’s side as honoured guards for short briefings or simply not present at all for the long ones. Whereas Augustus Scientia sits further below with the rest of the council, suffering. Ardyn is unsurprisingly, absent.

They cover everything, from taxes and economy to the most boring laws and agreements as well as the issue of Niflheim now that Lucis is in control of Gralea until treaty terms are re-negotiated. When one tried to even suggest a marriage with the young princess of Niflheim, it was shut down as soon as it started by Regis and multiple others. One marriage went to hell with the Astrals, and now you want him to marry a kid? Is he a damn joke to his own people? Noctis shuddered. The girl is 8 or 9 for crying out loud.

Which also led to discussions of Lucis’ territories. Where Regis finally decreed that Galahd is declared an autonomous state of Lucis, all hell finally broke lose.

“Of course, they will still be Lucians and this won’t be an immediate, but a gradual process. I have spoken and agreed with the clan heads during my time in Galahd before the Battle. Lucis will allow the Galahd Isles to acquire the status of autonomy once trade terms and agreements are set and connectivity with the Isles are restored and further negotiated. ”

There are gasps from some of the glaives in the room. Noctis glances over at the Captain of the Kingsglaive, the joy evident and clear on his face as he looks towards Cor, unbelieving.

“This is unheard of your Majesty! Galahd has always been Lucian territory why the sudden decree of autonomy?”

“A heavy carriage, no matter how useful, means nothing if it breaks.If the load is shared while achieving a common goal of peace and stability, would it not benefit Lucians all the more?” Regis answers calmly. “ Besides, Galahd has aided us greatly, especially during our call to arms for the Battle against the Gods. They were promised nothing and even when we had failed them, they came, along with the rest of Lucis, to our aid. I remember very clearly that Accordo works under a similar system during the rule of the Imperials, and they thrived nonetheless. I see your objections unjustified Councilman Vox.”

“That may be but, but who represents them and under what council? There is no system in place-“

“Ah but thats what meetings are for! A sharing of ideas and cooperation of efforts. I already have one in mind and he is also considered a noble amongst his own and is already familiar with our council. Come, Representative Ulric, say hello!”

Time stops.

Nyx chokes on air, slowly turning towards the King looking as if the man is Bahamut himself. Cor stares at Regis like he is nothing but a daemon while Clarus still remains unmoving. The rest of the Prince’s retinue still reeling in from the shock.

Silence.

“He’s a Kingsglaive!”

“Ah but cultural context states that he and his clan has the authority to stand for his people and the Galahd Community! He is also familiar with the system of a proper working society for his homeland. Just ask the galahdian glaives around this room, Councilman! In any case this is a promising start, isn’t it? Communication is very important, I must stress-“

“Wait. Who told you all this?” Nyx finally gathers his wits together and asks incredulously. Etiquette be damned.

“Why! Glaive Ostium of course!” Somewhere from the far corners of the council room was a cough and Nyx immediately turns to glare at the traitor he knows is stationed in this very room.

“Is my dad for real?” Noctis whispers. “Shh!” Ignis shoots him a look before going back to the discussion before them.

“This is absurd, we have not done things like this before-“

“We all need to try new things in life Councilman, no use for limiting beliefs!”

“We are certain Ardyn can’t do glamours anymore right? That’s-that’s not him as my dad trolling us right?”

“I assure you dear Nephew, I’m right here.”Ardyn quips from behind the alcove munching on a blueberry tart. The Prince and his retinue turns away from the old king quietly.

“We can always secure the deal with an arranged marriage! I mean that seems to be all everyone can come up with these days. And would you look at that! My Marshal is already married to Ulric! We just need to make it official and on proper Lucian documents in front of family and friends in broad daylight. Simple! Perfect.”

“I think my dad woke up and chose bloody violence today.” Noctis mutters as he watches the disaster unfold. Gladio finally lost it and snickers under his breath. Ignis is too intrigued to even stop the wayward prince and shield.

Clarus simply looks up at the restored ceiling, as if he is half expecting Griever to crash into the room and end all of them there and then. It would be certainly be a lot easier.

“Your Majesty! There’s no relevance in any of this!” Cor at last can no longer rein himself in any longer and hisses at Regis.The King smiles innocently like the benevolent monarch he is but the display does not fool Cor in the slightest.

“Oh, just renew your vows my dear brother! What harm would there be?”

“What the fuck is happening?” Nyx looks around in a daze, the poor soldier in him not equipped to deal with this. The Marshal looks as if he will cut someone fairly soon.

“Speaking of the Lord Marshal,” a councilwoman begins.”His adopted son is said to be a Farseer of this ancient ‘Goddess’. If I may be bold, I am sure some of us are wondering if its a simply a matter of offence to the Astrals hence their abandonment of humanity?”

“Are YOU serious-“Noctis feels his temper rising as he attempts to stand, before Ignis shoots him a sharp look, cutting his tirade off before someone else beaten him to it-

“Did you all honestly not see damn Ifrit burning the whole of Eos or Bahamut tearing the mountains down like fucking paper? Or were you too blind in the darkness to see the destruction they wrought on the people?!” Nyx finally snaps, not standing for the ridiculousness of this and shoots back at the offending councilwoman.”Prompto did not have to deal with any of this bullshit for you ungrateful bunch to turn around and question what Etro had him do to save all of our asses!”

“Ulric is right, Princess Lunafreya herself has made the situation clear repeatedly and unless several hundreds of men were fighting a different Battle, you tell me what was all that then? We all heard the accursed Draconian loud and clear, he wanted all of Eos erased for his own wishes. Oh wait. I remember now. You little coward, were too busy hiding in your room in Lestallum!”

“Take back your accusations Councilman Reed!”

“Surely you lot who remained in the safety of civilisation saw the light of the Gods depart from Eos like the rest of us that day? Yet this world remains with or without any divinity so why is this a concern at this point?”

“Are-are we forgetting that it was Lord Leonis who took out the Emperor for us during Operation Niflheim?Or not?”

“The Gods have come and gone! Young Lord Leonis has done us a service in bringing Etro to aid us in thwarting wayward astrals plotting our demise. I was there with the King during Operation Niflheim when the Goddess had appeared before us with the truth of the prophecy bestowed upon us. Also for goodness sake, use his title of Lord as is the respected address you uncivilised knaves.” Clarus pinches the bridge of his nose tiredly.

“He’s a commoner!”

SLAMS.

The table falls silent as Cor stands up and looks down at the council who have fallen silent.

“He’s. MY. Son. Councilman Varis.” Cor growls. “And I, myself, was a commoner first before I had entered the service of the late King Mors and his Majesty’s. You will do well to remember THIS.”

“Lord Leonis is part of his Royal Highness’ inner court. That entitles him to the title of Lord automatically by tradition until he is prematurely unable to serve any longer as his highness’ direct retainer before the end of his service.” Augustus interrupts warily.

“Unbelievable-“

“Who cares if the glaives and crownsguard are having relations. I still think we should focus on Niflheim, surely-“

“Are you daft! The Niflheim princess is a child, you beast!”

“Why not Princess Lunafreya? Surely a joyous marriage isn’t too bad to celebrate peace-”

“Tenebrae has already stated that they will not entertain any proposals and will focus on their own nation for an unprecedented period of time.”

“Why do you people keep trying to marry me off?! Does this kingdom hate me?” Noctis finally looses whatever rein he has on his temper while his advisor is still trying to process the chaos.”The Rogue Queen had no consorts and even beheaded her betrothed at the altar yet she did just bloody fine!”

“We must preserve the purity and sanctity of the royal family-“

“Why don’t we ever talk about how much inbreeding this country has seen?” Gladio mutters dryly.

”Certainly not as if we need a protect the ‘purity’ of the bloodline with the Wall and Crystal gone either.” Ignis adds dryly with a thought.

“With all due respect Lord Marshal, I still can’t believe you, as some one of pure Lucian standing and as member of his majesty’s inner court be fooling around with a Galahdian Glaive, this is simply not done-”

“Hah! As If that matters when you went behind your husband’s back with that housekeeper from Duscae! The entire court saw you leaving with him during the Fall!”

“At least Captain Ulric is more loyal to the Crown than you lot combined!”

“Wait, if Captain Ulric resigns and becomes Representative, who will be taking over his post?”

“By Titian’s ass, I don’t even know why I’m here.”Nyx mutters into his palm in frustration.

“What happened to fraternisation laws?!”

“WE HAVE NONE! If you imbeciles actually know better about our military’s code then I want to see you try me. And you fools will also leave my family out of your. Filthy. Fucking. Mouths.” Cor leans forward slowly and growled at the council, glaring across the table.

The Marshal’s katanas are gleaming by his side, and looking very much like a lion who has their bleeding prey on sight. ”A dozen able bodied men and women seated at this table! Yet none who called themselves a patriot amongst the army who had marched into the darkness. Here they are now thinking they are holier than thou. Pathetic.”

The words echo in the hollow council room effortlessly and for a minute nobody breathes.

“I think, I finally get why we never see Cor actually sitting in one of these council meetings.” Gladio mumbles softly, unable to mask his glee. “Don’t suppose we can convince them to continue letting him in more of these sessions?”

It was not long before another councilman started throwing shade at another, leading to another round of verbal conflict about a whole other subject. Which led to another before it became a stand off between disgruntled nobles.

The kingsglaives and crownsguard for once are baffled, looking at one another for support. Do they stop the raging council from tearing each other apart or do they just try to attempt at stopping them and simply let them at it? Without any orders, they are looking extremely lost amongst the chaos.

“Etro have mercy on us all.” Clarus tiredly gazes up at their new ceiling again and mumbles loud enough for Noctis and his retinue to hear.

Regis meanwhile, picks up the offered blueberry tart from Ardyn and resumes waiting and spectating.

Nyx just looks like he wants to stab everyone then himself with his kukris and die by the Goddess’ door. Cor is no doubt, plotting regicide, after he is done with gutting half of the council that is.

In the end, it took 3 days, dozen of guards, destroyed property, plenty of tears, threats, screaming, until everyone was too tired to protest anything did King Regis finally lay down the new policies and laws he wanted. Not without reminding them that this entire council, if proven to be as lacking as this session has proven, is replaceable and that the King’s word is still final. He will not jeopardise this rebuilding nation for the whims of men who think they are above the people of Lucis. Thus, regaining some semblance of control of his court and closing the session before taking his leave, excusing himself from the room full of exhausted nobles, looking like he had won the world.

The Grand Duke cackles in mirth, throughly and completely entertained.

——

“So let me get this straight. That entire stunt you pulled was so you can get your policies through with minimal resistance, find out who is displeased with whom amongst the court, resolve our issues and establish a system with Galahd and indirectly show our territories we care, get his Highness out of any arranged marriage plans, weed out those idiots possibly plotting against Prompto and-“ Clarus takes a deep breath and steadies himself,” get our youngest a damn wedding?!”

“Genius, if I were to say so myself! With Prompto’s status as the last Farseer of Etro and his good foreign relations, especially with our refugees, his safety is paramount. Ulric will also have the chance to prove himself worthy as a suitable partner for our Marshal. Oh! We can have the ceremony in both Lucian and Galahdian for symbolism and goodwill too.” Regis sips his tea and looks absolutely proud of himself.

“The brat eloped but nonetheless he still married! WITH witnesses! You know Cor values his privacy above all else!”

“Its just Glaive Altius, Glaive Khara and Major Elshett.” Regis casually shrugs.” Honestly, simply reciting Galahdian vows of commitment in a middle of all places, a skirmish?! Really, Clar? Really? The little brother we had raised certainly deserves better than that.”

Clarus pauses in his pacing across his private living quarters to roll his eyes. The old shield then digs out his phone from under his heavy council robes.

“Whatever are you doing, Clarus?”

“Calling Cid for backup.” Clarus growls, waiting for the line to connect,”I refuse to be alone fending off an irate brat from the meddlesome man-child I have sworn to protect! Though I certainly will only do the bare minimal to protect your stupid ass when Cor finally gets up here.”

“You will not!” Regis gasps dramatically,”And you know Sophiar will do nothing but sit and laugh at my suffering.”

“Thats all on you, old friend. You have no one to blame but your own stupidity.” Clarus winces as the line finally connects and he hears Cid’s rough greeting, just as the sound of an enraged lion approaching like a storm echoes in from beyond the thick layered double doors.

The old Shield is not sober enough to deal with this. He lost a whole damn arm in the Fall, he certainly doesn’t need to add ‘death by protecting a foolish charge’ to his column in the History of Lucis.

——

“Hey guys, I’m not sure if its just me, I think its me but, why is like everyone in the Citadel calling me ‘Lord’…?” The fact finally sinks in a few days after Prompto’s return to Insomnia. Where they are holed up in the Prince’s private quarters for a sleepover, putting on shitty films after calling in pizzas and piling up snacks. Just like the back in high school. Apart from the extra bottle of Duscaen whiskey they had nicked from Clarus’ office gifted to him by some council member. ”I am kinda, sorta, creeped out?”

“Has the Marshal or Captain mentioned anything to you of late? Did no one even bother to explain to you upon signing into the service of the Prince’s Retinue as direct retainer? Or even when you were younger, have lessons on Lucian nobility and its delicate customs?” Ignis starts carefully, eying the blond laying on his lap.

“Um no? 100% pure pleb here!”Prompto chirps, a relief considering how troubled and melancholic he was after the Battle.”Why? Is there something I should know?” Ever the practical realist, the young advisor however for once, prays to Etro for her strength to preserve him.

“Sorry to break it to you sunshine, definitely not ‘pleb’,” Gladio laughs, poking Prompto’s cartoon chocobo covered butt with his toe, eager to see how Ignis tries to lay it out for their clueless gunslinger as he steals Prompto’s last pizza (“HEY!”).

“I still have war flashbacks of that council meeting.” Noctis mutters into his soda.

Prompto just looks even more confused as he nibbles on a cheese stick while watching Ignis pull out his tablet and begin educating him the ways of Lucian Court once and for all.

——

No one:

Absolutely no one:

Regis: So, does that mean I would require to give Galahd a dowry on behalf of my brother? Or is it the other way around? I am not sure.

Noctis:…

Nyx: *incoherent dying Bismarck noises*

Cor: I think his royal highness is more than capable of taking over the throne now. *withdraws his swords*

Clarus: *tired sighs*

[tenthgrove]

Yandere La Squadra- Illuso, Prosciutto, and Pesci

(Cw: Abduction, Forced Relationships, Obsessive Behavior, Murder)

Illuso

It’s probably a given that Illuso never intended to find love. For a person so proud and jealous, a romantic obsession would most likely arise out of just that- jealousy. You were a bystander, a mere distant relative of Illuso’s mark. He probably never would have even heard of you, had it not been for the party.

As Illuso watched the happy revellers from the safety of his mirror world, his efforts to observe the target were hampered by a far more appealing distraction. You. You were exactly his type, beautiful and amicable. As you spoke to your friends and family, he found himself wishing you were saying those words to him and not those worthless nobodies.

He tried to shake off his captivation, leave the room you were in to focus just on his target. But when he returned, you were talking with another man. As envy cut through his chest, he came to understand how he really felt. You were not something he could leave alone.

For months, Illuso did nothing but watch you. When he would normally go down to the bar or for a walk around town, he would head into the mirror world and watch you go through your day. He would even talk to you, secure and yet saddened in the knowledge that you wouldn’t be able to hear him.

Then one day, Illuso had a stroke of luck. Another individual vaguely in your social circle has been pinned as La Squadra’s target, and this time, Illuso is going to use it to the fullest. He goes out of his way to exaggerate the connection between you and the target, saboutaging all the usual routes the team would use to hunt them down until the only option seems to be going through you. Finally, Illuso gets permission to abduct you and take you in for interrogation. His plan is to be your saviour, to convince the team to let you go and carry you home in his arms like a knight in shining armous. Unfortunately for him, it takes all of 5 seconds of talking to you for Risotto to realise what’s really going on.

Illuso gets hauled to one side, and after getting one of the biggest dressing-downs of his life, is informed that he could have very well gotten you killed since La Squadra can’t let witnesses go. Risotto informs him that if he wants you to live, he’s going to have to keep you captive himself now. He started this mess, so he’s going to deal with it.

Illuso always intended to have a ‘normal’ relationship after the whole kidnapping stunt, but he supposes keeping you prisoner is a close second. Since he never planned for this to happen, his home is completely unprepared for holding you, and he has to keep you in the mirror world for the first few days.

Once he has a suitably secure room set up, you’re allowed to come out of the mirror world again but on the strict conditions you don’t act up. After spending days in an alternate dimension at his control, you would have to be very brave indeed to ever go against Illuso’s word.

Illuso tries to win you over with gifts. He misses the way you acted when your life was happy and is annoyed he can’t see that side of you now you’re finally together in person. Don’t be surprised if he offsets his anger by hunting down those you loved. If you had a partner before, you can be certain they’ll be first to go.

Despite this cruelty, Illuso genuinely begins to feel remorse for your sorry state. It will lead to him doing some self-reflection for the first time in his life, and he will genuinely try to be a better person around you to make you smile again.

Prosciutto

By the time Prosciutto fell for you, you had already been having a bad time of things. Trapped in Passione through no fault of your own, you were unfortunately no stranger to peril. It’s this reason that attracted Prosciutto to you in the first place.

As a standless, low-ranking newcomer to the syndicate, you were as vulnerable as they come. And yet, as Prosciutto listened to your story from someone who knew of it, he felt intrigue. You presented to him the opportunity of a project. Someone to mold.

Prosciutto sought you out a few days later. His offer was simple- a friendship and nothing more. In exchange, you would gain the company of a far more distinguished member of Passione who could teach you the unspoken rules of survival. For some weeks, this is how things were. He would teach you his skills in his spare time and talk with you afterwards. The two of you began to develop a genuine, warm bond.

That’s where the problems started, however. As Prosciutto learned more and more about your story, he began to question his original plan. You didn’t belong here, there were no two ways about it. You may be showing potential in your training, yes, but would you ever truly belong in such a syndicate? Prosciutto didn’t think so, and he couldn’t bear to imagine you spending the rest of your life this way. Second, there was the issue of his romantic feelings. They were getting hard to ignore.

So, Prosciutto comes up with a proposition for you. Disappear off the map entirely. Prosciutto will handle everything, and you can live comfortably with him in hiding for however long is necessary. He also pleads with you to become his lover.

However, you just can’t find it in you to trust him on something so important. You turn him down, thank him for all he’s done for you, and leave. Prosciutto is heartbroken. He can’t let you continue like this, especially not without his protection, and so, he’s going to do something he knows you’ll hate him for. Prosciutto breaks into your hideout and murders your entire team, planting evidence to look like a rival gang did it. As you cower in the corner, tears streaking down your face, Prosciutto whispers an apology and presses a chloroform rag to your nose and mouth. He takes you to his house.

The next day, Prosciutto is holding you against his chest as you cry, even as you hurl frightened profanities about how much you hate him for doing this. He’ll take it all, and remind you calmly everything he does is for your sake. He promises again and again that he loves you, unconditionally.

Prosciutto tries to make things as bearable as possible for you to make up for keeping you captive. He buys you anything you want on a whim, and looks after you when you refuse to look after yourself. He encourages you to find new interests, since your life is no longer dominated by Passione’s orders and you can be yourself again.

As much as he wishes, he can’t let you leave the house, except on closely supervised trips in the dead of night where you can’t possibly be spotted. If Passione were to find out you were alive all along, they would surely have both of you killed. Prosciutto dreams that one day, perhaps when La Squadra has the status they deserve, he can give you the freedom he owes you. Maybe then you will find it in you to forgive his betrayal.

Pesci

Pesci is certainly not the type to resort to the extreme actions of a yandere unless he felt truly desperate. It’s for this reason he becomes a yandere for someone he has an existing relationship with.

Pesci didn’t think he would find love at all now he worked for Passione, especially not a squad as feared as La Squadra. And yet the stars aligned and brought him you- a wonderful, kind-hearted civilian he met by chance and began a steady, loving relationship with. Several months in, the pair of you couldn’t be happier together.

There was just one thorn in this relationship threatening to bring it all down: you didn’t know that Pesci was a mobster. He couldn’t bear to tell you. Would you hate him? Fear him? He didn’t want to even think about it. All he could do was hold you tight and pray, pray to whatever would listen, that the two of you could be like this forever.

What made Pesci’s worst dreams true was a simple, awful coincidence. You were out shopping alone, when, across the street, you spotted your boyfriend headed in the other direction. Pleasently surprised, you chased after him and called out, but he didn’t seem to hear you. Not giving up, you followed him into an alleyway, and what you saw turned your stomach.

There on the ground was the writhing body of an injured man. Above him, stood Pesci and a stranger, a tall, well-dressed blond man who spoke to your boyfriend with an air of authority. As you watched in horror, the stranger took a knife to the injured man’s throat while your boyfriend watched emotionlessly. You turned tail and ran.

By the time Pesci gets home, you have already gone through everything. His phone, his diary, his checkbook. You know everything, and you can’t stand to be a part of it any longer. With tearful eyes, you announce you are leaving. If he doesn’t want to be turned in to the police, he won’t try and stop you.

Pesci panics. He can’t let you go! Can’t! You’re the first person who has ever loved him! In a brief act of fear, Pesci hits you over the head to stop you leaving. He’s knocked you unconscious.

Dismayed at his actions and cradling your body in his arms, Pesci breaks down crying. But then he makes a decision. He regrets that it came down to hurting you, but he isn’t letting you go. He isn’t letting his love leave him. When you wake up, you’re in Pesci’s apartment, tied to the bed with a gag in your mouth. As much as it hurts him to hear your distress, Pesci forces himself to hold to his promise. He isn’t letting himself lose you.

Pesci comforts you as best he can, but knows it could be a long time before you trust him again. He explains his actions whenever you show signs of sadness, and tries to tell stories of his team that will paint them in a better light. He knows deep down, however, that what he’s done is unforgiveable.

Should the day come when your bitterness finally disappears, and Pesci can trust you full-heartedly not to tell anyone of what he really does, he is more than happy to return all your normal freedoms. You can even return to living part-time in your old house, if it helps. Just remember, should you ever abuse this freedom to try and flee, don’t think he won’t hunt you down. Pesci swore to himself he wouldn’t let himself lose you, and that promise doesn’t end now your original abduction is over.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Tedious Joys - Chapter 4 -

- Ao3 link -

It had been an inauspicious year to begin with.

A poor harvest led to famine among the common people, which in turn created conditions ripe for evil creatures of all sorts; the night-hunts that were often treated as playful competition by the cultivation world became more like the boring drudgery of everyday work, disciples setting off in packs on a regular basis all over, time and time again. The tension wore on the sects, some more than others, and dozens of small disputes began to rise up, needing to be dealt with. Lan Qiren’s schedule became busy, and then busier, and then became overwhelming; he was forced to discard one pastime after another in his efforts to hold back the rising tide, and in the end sacrificed sleep and sometimes meals to preserve only two: playing for Jiwei and spending time with his nephews.

It meant that he was unprepared, both mentally and physically, for word of the death of Cangse Sanren and her husband, which took over two years to finally come to ears of the Great Sects – such a shocking failure of information that Lan Qiren briefly wondered if it had been concealed intentionally.

The sudden shock of grief hit him hard.

He tried to convince himself that he had expected it, that she had expected it, that at least her son was now safe in the Lotus Pier, and yet all he could think about was that he had one less friend in the world. The sadness interfered with his focus, creeping in at all hours, uncontrollable, until one evening he was playing guqin with his nephews and looked up to find them both weeping uncontrollably from the music he was playing. When he tried to stop mid-song, he abruptly collapsed, and upon waking was informed that he had become feverish at some point in the night.

His sect doctors advised him to go into seclusion until he could control himself.

Lan Qiren refused.

They advised him again, this time with greater insistence, and with the support of his sect elders.

“Tell them to fuck off,” Lao Nie suggested, pouring a calming tea that he’d brought from Qinghe.

He’d come to visit with his sons, Nie Mingjue disappearing with Lan Xichen as always and Nie Huaisang engaged in the newest stage in his eternal battle of wills with Lan Wangji over a game of weiqi that they were both taking far, far too seriously.

(Despite knowing Lan Wangji and indeed Nie Huaisang better than most people alive, Lan Qiren honestly could not determine whether the two of them despised each other or were close friends. Lao Nie claimed the answer was both, simultaneously, but Lan Qiren didn’t understand that at all.)

“That is not how we do things here,” Lan Qiren said, accepting a cup. It was rude for him to allow a fellow sect leader who was his guest to serve him, rather than the other way around, but he had a headache from the persistent fever and exhaustion that was even more persistent, the boundless river of grief in his heart translating into physical agony, and anyway Lao Nie hadn’t exactly asked permission before proceeding. “It would be more appropriate for me to present a well-reasoned case for it not being necessary, based on rules, authority, and precedent.”

“Except you can’t put one together because you’re upset and tired,” Lao Nie said with a snort. “That’s stupid. You’re overworked, stretched too thin, you just found out that your friend is dead – you need sleep, not seclusion. Anyway, what happens if you do go into seclusion? Aren’t they always saying they need you to stick around to be Sect Leader so desperately?”

Lan Qiren rubbed his eyes. “It would not be true seclusion. I would be expected to continue certain parts of the work.”

“You’re joking.”

“It would be primarily administrative correspondence –”

“By that token, your brother ought to do it!”

Lan Qiren glared. “It’s not the same and you know it. And they are not wrong that I need rest.”

“From what I recall of what you’ve told me about your sect’s practice of seclusion, that’s not rest,” Lao Nie said acidly. “Surely there’s something I can do to help. I could send over some of my disciples…”

“Excellent idea,” Lan Qiren said, rolling his eyes. “We can replace all those rumors that I’ve been secretly pining for years over my best female friend with ones regarding my best male friend.”

“It is a little ‘hero rushes to save the lady’, isn’t it?” Lao Nie said thoughtfully, shaking his head in amusement. “But seriously, I came here for a reason, and it’s not Jiwei or A-Jue or anything like that. You’re always trying to help me, Qiren. For once, let me help you.”

Lan Qiren would normally protest this – because Lao Nie had so done many things for him over the years that it was an incorrect statement, because he hated the helpless feeling of letting someone do things for him, because that wasn’t something sect leaders did for each other – but he was tired and he feared seclusion and sometimes he thought it might be nice to do one thing that could be considered a little reckless before he died.

“Very well,” he said, closing his eyes and drinking the tea. “Do as you like.”

That was a dangerous thing to say to someone like Lao Nie, who promptly pulled three dozen Nie sect disciples from out of nowhere and sent them scurrying around hunting down evil with the energetic enthusiasm of youth entrusted with gigantic sabers and the freedom to use them as they would, while he himself settled in very happily in Lan Qiren’s home, sleeping on a guest bed, keeping away unwanted visitors and helping with any paperwork that didn’t explicitly require a Lan. He also recruited Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen to assist, despite Lan Qiren’s protests that bureaucratic busywork was not an appropriate way for boys of approximately fifteen and definitely twelve, respectively, to spend their time; both of them very solemnly assured Lan Qiren that they were more than happy to do whatever they could.

Even little Lan Wangji and Nie Huaisang bullied their way into being involved, insisting that they wanted to do it more than they wanted to train or play, although at their ages there really wasn’t much they could do besides grind ink and run messages to the relevant recipients.

As Lan Qiren might have expected, rumors immediately started about some sort of torrid affair – life would be so much easier if everyone obeyed the rules against gossiping purposelessly – and they even got to the point that several of the sect elders cautiously hinted to him that although cutsleeve relationships were far from being in vogue, they had at no point been explicitly forbidden by the rules, and cited several provisions which seemed to favor such things.

Lan Qiren had thanked them for the reminder and caustically commented that he would be sure to incorporate that into his next set of lectures as he could see no other reason for them to mention it, and soon enough they backed off, shaking their heads. Still, those busybodies that had his best interests in mind were still preferable to the ones that started once more raising the idea of finding him a nice bride of suitable age – by suitable age, they meant too old for children, lest he get any idea of challenging his brother’s line of descent – before he did anything foolish like fall in love, or, worse, to act on it.

Obviously he had no intentions of permitting that.

Still, after a month of enforced rest, Lan Qiren was feeling a bit more himself. He took on more and more of the work, albeit supervised by five sets of judging eyes, and even began to play once more, this time without bringing anyone to tears. Jiwei and Xinfei rested together by the door in comfortable equilibrium, hot and cold, weak and powerful, and the jade pendant that Lan Qiren carried with him remained cool to the touch, not hot at all.

“You will need to go soon,” he told Lao Nie, who shrugged, not denying it – a month was a long time for a sect leader to be away from home absent some valid excuse like a war, not quite too long but starting to push it. No matter how effective one’s deputies were nor how much work one did from a distance, a sect leader was still necessary, in the end, or else Lan Qiren’s life would have been very different.

“Next week,” he said. “That’ll give me just enough time to take the boys home before heading back out again for the conference in Qishan.”

“There’s a conference? I wasn’t informed.”

“No, you weren’t, because I didn’t inform you,” Lao Nie said, utterly shameless. “You’re going to stay here and rest. It’s just a stupid party.”

“That doesn’t matter if it is also a stupid party which everyone else is attending,” Lan Qiren said sternly.

“Jiang Fengmian isn’t going, either,” Lao Nie said. “Doesn’t want to leave his new ward alone just yet…newest rumor has it that Wei Wuxian’s his bastard with Cangse Sanren.”

Lan Qiren shut his eyes. “Of course. Wasn’t I the one having the affair with her last week?”

“Perhaps it was a love triangle?”

“A square, at minimum. Don’t forget she had a husband.”

“A pyramid!”

“Lao Nie…”

Lao Nie laughed. “Jin Guangshan isn’t making it, either. His wife’s giving birth – predictions say to a daughter, I think, assuming this one survives the birth – and all accounts say that she’s threatened to cut his balls off if he even thinks of leaving Lanling City. So, you see, it really is just a stupid party, and by missing it you’ll be doing just the same thing as all the other Great Sects.”

Lan Qiren felt a sudden stab of misgiving. “Except you.”

“Except me,” Lao Nie said cheerfully. “Me and Hanhan.”

Lan Qiren truly did not want to know what went on in Lao Nie’s mind sometimes.

“Why don’t you refrain from going as well?” he asked, aware he sounded tetchy and irritable like some jealous wife in an opera. “If no one else is going.”

“Oh, I have to go. A-Han asked for me specifically,” Lao Nie said, and Lan Qiren thought to himself oh I’m certain he did, then promptly felt bad about doing so. Sneering for no reason was prohibited. “Someone’s gifted him with some magnificent saber for his collection, apparently, and he was boasting that it was the best there was right up until someone stuck their nose in it and said that it was all well and good but no comparison to my Jiwei.”

Lan Qiren could imagine exactly how well a statement like that had gone over with Wen Ruohan.

“And now he’s demanding you show up and produce evidence?” he asked, unimpressed.

Lao Nie grinned. “Ah, Qiren, it’s almost like you’ve met the man before.”

“You shouldn’t encourage him,” Lan Qiren said. “Why should you go just because he asked? He’s your equal, not your master.”

“There’s no harm in giving him some face.”

Lan Qiren could think of several ways that it could lead to harm, the inflation of Wen Ruohan’s already bloated ego being not the least of them, but Lao Nie was his equal as well, his equal and his elder. If the man had made up his mind, as it clearly appeared that he had, there was nothing Lan Qiren could say that would change it.

“Good luck, then,” he said, shaking his head, and called the boys to come in for dinner. As usual, the Lan half of the table remained mute while the Nie half did nothing but chatter, each according to their own family custom. It was a test of wills and endurance – Lan Wangji’s eye kept twitching every time Nie Huaisang filled in words for him, possibly due to the extremely high pitch Nie Huaisang chose to represent him – but it was a joy to share the time with them nonetheless.

Before Lao Nie left, Lan Qiren tried, not for the first time, to press the jade pendant that resonated with Jiwei into his hand. “You should take it with you,” he insisted. “Especially if you’re going to the Nightless City to exhibit your saber – there’s a great deal of resentful energy there, and you know that always gets Jiwei’s bloodlust up.”

“Which in turn will sharpen my reflexes, just when I need them most,” Lao Nie said, pressing the jade pendant right back into Lan Qiren’s hand. “Better you have it.”

“Lao Nie…”

“Jiwei likes you now,” Lao Nie said, as if that mattered. “She’s been just as avid to protect you as I’ve been, this past month – if I didn’t need her by my side, I’d almost be tempted to leave her here with you.”

Lan Qiren arched his eyebrows. “Are you suggesting that I can’t protect myself? Here? In the Cloud Recesses?”

“Saber spirits are not smart, Qiren. But even she can tell that you’re not well yet.”

Lan Qiren waved a hand dismissively. “Well enough,” he said, and it was even true – the grief was still there, of course, and likely would be every time he thought of Cangse Sanren in the near future, excluding maybe the few times when it was one of his students that resembled her only in terms of how much mischief she would get up to, but it was no longer drowning him. He had hope that, in time, this wound would also scab over and the hurt fade, and that at that time he could once again think of her with nothing but joy.

Lao Nie huffed. “Well enough isn’t well,” he grumbled, but that didn’t stop him from gathering his children and his disciples and heading out back towards Qinghe. “Take care of yourself, Qiren! Be well!”

“And you,” Lan Qiren said. “Keep out of trouble, my friend.”

From what he later heard, the party at the Nightless City went about as anyone with half a brain might have expected: Wen Ruohan swanned around until Lao Nie showed up, there were tense words exchanged, and then Lao Nie produced Jiwei, allowing Wen Ruohan to examine her and even pat her a few times before the Wen sect leader was forced, with great reluctance and through gritted teeth, to admit her superiority to the saber he had received.

The stories ended there, but Lan Qiren had enough imagination to fill in how the rest of the night might have gone, especially with the only sect leaders there being Lao Nie and Wen Ruohan. He sincerely hoped that Lao Nie had remembered all those lectures he’d given him about the foolishness of lying in the same bed as poisonous snakes, no matter how beautiful they might be on the surface.

Perhaps he had, perhaps he hadn’t.

Either way, Lan Qiren heard nothing else until the day he interrupted his own afternoon lecture with a sudden cry of intense pain – the jade pendant had abruptly gone so hot that it had burned, and although his clothing, protected by stitched-in incantations, was unharmed, the heat was so severe that it had nevertheless left a mark on his thigh through all those layers.

Clutching at his leg, Lan Qiren ordered his students to run to fetch him cold water and a doctor, and wondered what in the world had happened.

A letter, he decided. He would write Lao Nie a letter to ask.

[sovpologist]

hi, genuine question! I want to like Mara, but d2 lore shows her, in my eyes, as selfish and cruel, set on her own goal with no consideration for others. At least that's what I got from marasenna lorebook.

Why is she liked by so many in community? I feel like I'm overlooking something over things I mentioned above, but I would appreciate a perspective from someone who likes her character! If it's okay to ask!

its totally okay to ask!! this is going to be a long post so im going to put it under a readmore :)

i just want to stress first that mara is like.... widely disliked by many in the community. it used to be very unpopular to like her and if you even said anything remotely positive about her, people would reply to your posts and send you anons about how you were a terrible person for liking such a manipulative and toxic character. it was only recently that community opinion kind of started to shift, and people started to actually appreciate her character as nuanced and interesting. i definitely dont think this is because of me or anything crazy like that, but ive tried to correct misconceptions about her and cultivate a space on my blog at least where people can just openly like mara and not feel like they have to qualify it by constantly assuring people that they know mara's done bad things too (because literally every character in d2 has done bad things, and somehow people understand that liking the uldren doesnt mean you support him killing cayde but cant apply that same concept to mara for some reason). ok, im getting off my soapbox now and im going to just talk about why i like her.

mara is genuinely just such a fascinating character to me. reading the marasenna im really struck by how alone she is, even as a 19 year old human. her mom has essentially abandoned her and says that she's mara's friend but not her mother, and mara's father is never mentioned, so mara literally has no parental guidance or supervision or love. this puts a lot more of her pre-awoken actions into context, such as her not knowing how to interact with people and preferring to keep herself away from the rest of the crew. everyone mara loves leaves her. her mom stays in the distributary, uldren is distant in his efforts to impress and surprise her and then dies, and sjur dies too.

i also love mara's character arc, although it kind of makes me sad. mara is so painfully human in the earlier parts of the marasenna. she's awkward, she's lonely, she thinks her and uldren's secret language is "cool," she gets embarassed at her mom's embarrassing petnames, she hero-worships alis li and listens to her advice. watching her lose all of this and crystalize into a queen is so interesting. remember, mara didn't go out into the fight between the darkness and the traveler bc she knew she would gain power and create the awoken, its stated that she went out there to die. so a 19 year old just trying to die peacefully ends up witnessing firsthand the power of the dark and light and being tasked with essentially creating a new species, knowing that one day she wants to go back and fight the darkness. she becomes such a politician and has to scheme and plot and really loses her humanity while following ALIS' advice- alis was the one who told her that people need a mascot, not a friend. this also makes for a really interesting scene where alis grants mara one favor, and instead of asking for political power, even though mara is such an intensely political and scheming person, she tells alis the truth about the awoken and asks for forgiveness. alis, who mara looked up to, doesnt forgive her, and mara really internalizes this and starts to permantantly close herself off. mara made herself into a queen and lost her humanity in the process. there's a couple people who see the real her, like sjur, but even sjur doesnt really understand her. but her relationship with sjur is also so well written and interesting, sjur being the one person she lets herself drop her mask around and just act human. i made a post about this once, but even mara's speech patterns change around sjur, becoming much more casual and "normal." however, at the same time, mara's mask/persona is a part of her character, and one that i love. people hate her for being "mean," but i like characters like that. mara doesnt take any shit, even from the protagonist, and has her own plans and goals that she doesn't feel obligated to share or change for other people. she's ambitious, sticks to her guns, and doesn't allow other people to influence her.

you say she's selfish, and i think it is easy to brush her off as selfish and doing everything for her own gain, but there's a lot of subtext and outright text in the marasenna and other lore that shows mara genuinely believes that the only way to fight the darkness is to become a being on the same level as the darkness and the traveler. she doesn't let the awoken become immortal gods, which some people regard as a bad thing, but she did that for a reason. mara understands that a people who are eternal and ageless will never grow as people, and she knew that the darkness wanted them to just be complacently sitting aside in their little realm while it does whatever it wants. mara wasn't going to let that happen, and knew she had to find a way to encourage people to leave paradise. you can dislike the way she went about this, essentially encouraging conflict and war among her people, but she did not just do it for her own gain or amusement. mara has also been hated on for starting the reef war/firing a missile at the house of wolves, people act like she did that just for fun too, but the eliksni fleet was heading to conquer earth. instead of just hiding and building up her own resources, which wouldve been the logical thing to do in this situation, mara put her own fleet and power on the line to draw the eliksni's attention away and help earth. she doesn't do things solely bc they benefit her, but because she genuinely loves and wants to help earth. her uncaring persona is a mask, the thing that she feels she needs to be for people to have faith in her.

i have more to say but this is already so long and ive said a lot, so i'll end it here :) at the end of the day, some people are just not going to like mara and thats totally fine. she's not everyone's type, bc she IS ambitious and manipulative and sometimes cruel. i just wish she didnt get a disproportionate amount of hate for being like that when i know for a fact that if she was a male character she would not get this much hate, and i wish that people could just dislike her normally without lying about her or misinterpreting her character and motivations. but if you dont like her, you dont like her! sometimes we just dislike characters, sometimes for well thought out reasons snad sometimes just for no reason! thats completely fine, as long as you're respectful!!

[thattimdrakeguy]

When ever I need a boost to get back into comic mode or “OH YES THIS IS THE CHARACTER” mode. I always just reread Lonely Place of Dying, cause I remember why I love him again instantly, and all the rest falls into place.

Like this little squirt is such an interesting character to me. Because he’s super smart and clever, yet can’t even take care of himself, despite being 13-years-old, so the Bat-Family while training him, if you read farther, also has to group parent this tiny child.

Most people don’t seem to realize it, but to an extent Dick also helped raise Tim a bit. He tried to teach him how to clean clothes, and even cook I believe. While he is his older brother through and through, when Bruce wasn’t around all the time for whatever reason he has, Dick also took on the role of a father figure as well for Tim.

(I think this is Dick...but regardless I know he does later)

And this small child is also so ambitious, and so idealistic and hopeful. He’s entranced by this world of Super Heroes and he gets to enter it and be amazed that he gets to do that, while also being terrified because “OH GOSH NOW I HAVE RESPONSBILIES. I DIDN’T EVEN HAVE TO MAKE MY BED BEFORE”. And he’s super naïve too, because he was raised in a freaking boarding school. He doesn’t know anything about social interaction. He’s super awkward and scattered brained, really excitable.

He has no idea what he’s doing at all, but he’s so enthusiastic, and heartfelt, and caring, and clever, though not perfect. That it just makes him super interesting to me all over again. He’s such a strange little tot.

Like he’s a very relatable protagonist, but he’s also a really weird little kid lol. He goes to a whole different state I think on his bike and snoops around people’s houses like he’s not even aware he shouldn’t do that. Like he has no mal intent in what he does, and he’s not being as creepy as he could be (still a creepy weirdo. still broke into dick’s apartment). But he has no idea what he’s doing is wrong.

He is the most clueless infant I’ve ever seen in my life.

What’s weird is, if Young Justice became a thing just a year earlier, it’d be Cassie and Cissie being the responsible ones, with maaaaaaybe Kon-El sort-of...Y.J. definitely propped up his goofy immature side, but there’s still maturity in him. He’s just the most teenage boy to ever teenage boy. While Tim and Bart would be these super naïve chaos-bringers.

Cause what happens when you bring together a super naïve, and innocent little kid teen with enough brains to figure out and do stuff that kids his age shouldn’t manage, and a teenager that’s barely older than the last one that’s from the future and was raised in V.R. that knows even less about the world, but has super speed, with an attention disorder.

They would’ve been so freaking chaotic.

Tim learned responsibility the hard way more and more as time went on, and those stories were super great and enhanced the character with more depth, but normal little boys don’t climb in the trash to find clues about a circus murder case, while trying to find someone that gave him attention 10 years ago cause he recognized his flip and knows this guy’s dad/brother figure is going crazy, and he thinks putting on a dorky costume would help.

He’s a totally sweet, and brilliant, absolutely naïve numbskull that should have supervision at all times.

Tim could be naïve and completely weird in all the right ways, and it almost bothers me they didn’t take more advantage of that before having him learn really tough responsibilities. Though I suppose he always remained that way, especially the naiveté (I’d argue even during his most depressed of stages) but not nearly as strong as his beginnings. 90s it was still clearly there, but wasn’t used for as amusing of circumstances as I think they should’ve used. He’s really freaking funny.

[sunriseseance]

please,,, even if you dont answer this publicly i wanna know your In Depth Thoughts on fanon klaus and the issues w him bc i also have issues w fanon klaus but i cant put it in words

This got SO LONG, so I hope you meant it when you said you wanted in depth! Holy shit I sorta lost my mind on this.

In my early days as a bear-poker in this fandom, I described fanon!Klaus as that person who gets resurrected in a horror movie and comes back different. As an audience member, I can tell he's wrong, but nobody interacting with him directly seems to know this. I've also talked a little bit about Klaus and intelligence before, which plays into any discussion about fanon!Klaus, but I'll be more specific here. Before I get started, I wanna say that fandom is a fun space and I don't think anyone is *bad* for creating/enjoying fanon!Klaus, especially not for the third reason I lay out. I just think he's awful, and has some harmful roots that I doubt the people writing him even know about on a conscious level.

Okay, let's get into this. Because I'm me and Wittgenstein's early work that he later disagreed with has changed my entire way of interacting with the world, I'm gonna define my terms. Let's talk about what fanon!Klaus is LIKE before we talk about why I REALLY DON'T LIKE HIM. Fanon!Klaus is a happy, stupid, sweet, childish, bubbly, luminous free spirit. He wears bubblegum pink skirts and he cries when Diego eats his cookies. He doesn't know what numbers are, he can't count, he can't walk and chew gum, he thinks that Africa is a country, he forgets that homophobia exists, he doesn't know that drugs are bad for him, the list goes on (These are all real examples. Can you tell what part of fanon annoys me the most?). He cries at the drop of a hat, and doesn't understand his place in the family. He'd move heaven and earth to help the people around him, and he'd never be mean to anyone but Luther (and even then just barely) He constantly needs attention, supervision, etc. He makes jokes about modern memes and listens exclusively to pop music. He's really damaged but it's only because nobody Took Care Of Him and he needs someone to Rescue Him.

Canon Klaus is mean, and quick, and sharp, and miserable, and hiding, and funny because you're laughing WITH him, and an old soul, and a goth, and chronically apathetic, and selfish, and so fucking smart, and acutely aware of just how much he matters to other people. He makes rape jokes, he figures out how to get info on the eye while high out of his mind, he speaks like 10 languages, he listens to Nina Simone, he uses people's inherent fear of the dead to buy himself time, he finds the perfect story within the dead to cause a rift, he tells Luther TO HIS FACE that he doesn't care if the world ends. Klaus is a fascinating study in queer trauma, and robbing him of these traits is a complete disservice to yourself AND the character.

I say this often about fanon!Klaus, but WHO IS THIS??? Like…. Okay, if I gave you this list and you didn't know it was about Klaus, would you think it was? I think he's literally unrecognizable. He's not any of the things I know or love about Klaus. He's nobody to me, except a nuisance wearing the same skin suit and clogging the tags. He is also, weirdly, the most popular character in the entire fandom. I wanna think about why, and I have 3 theories that I think can all be true separately or simultaneously instance to instance.

First, fanon!Klaus exists because of internalized homophobia, classism, and anti-addict rhetoric. I think that on some level people don't believe addicts, feminine queer men, or homeless people are capable of intelligence. I think people see Klaus's canonical positive traits and they sort of throw them out the window because they don't make sense with their world view. A queer addict is a helpless tragedy, and he's someone that needs rescuing by Kind Strong Dave. A queer addict can't be smart, because then he wouldn't be an addict. A queer addict can't be wily, or interesting, because then he wouldn't be an addict. Fandom sees a feminine queer mlm and knows he should be in a sparkly bubblegum pink skirt, and saying "dahling" or "wig" or whatever else all the time. They know he should be bashful and submissive and always falling into the arms of Kind Strong Dave who protects him from Evil. They also know he should really, really like Britney Spears, and not give a shit about Nina Simone.

Second, fanon!Klaus exists because people want to excuse negative behavior in their favorite characters. Klaus is selfish and mean and apathetic. He just is. These are flaws that haunt him, and define a lot of his interactions. These are, also, pretty tough flaws to excuse (which… Hey…. I have a solution for that). I think that fanon Klaus, who just doesn't GET that he's being mean, and is too stupid not to become an addict (I don't think addiction is a flaw, but I do think that addiction plays into this), and is too out of touch and childish to understand that he shouldn't just fucking leave, comes from a place of wanting Klaus to be a good person who does good things. I'm sorry, but he isn't. Not always. I think the impulse to make him constantly sweet and constantly stupid comes from wanting Klaus's actions to be fundamentally excusable. He can't help it! He's just too much of a useless twink to know that it's bad to lie! (also, side note, fanon!Ben comes from this side of fanon!Klaus. In canon, Klaus is self destructing on purpose and Ben's presence helps…. Maybe, possibly, twice. In fanon, Klaus is just stupid and he needs a babysitter and that is Ben, the motiveless, endlessly loving but Exhausted braincell holder. This is fucked up on many levels. Ben is an asshole, and we all need to get used to that idea quick).

The third and final reason is that fanon!Klaus is… More fun, in the traditional sense of the word. Fanon!Klaus seems like he comes from a very emotional romcom or sitcom or something. He's like a barbie. He's fun to play dress-up with. He's fun to make incorrect quotes about. He's fun to write about, especially when it's about his siblings herding him or coddling him. Good ol' useless, loveable Klaus. I think this is partially because Klaus is a pretty fucking heavy character. He's a traumatized homeless queer drug addict, and that's sort of hard to make jokey fandom content about. Not impossible, I don't think, but not easy. This isn't to say that angsty fandom content isn't guilty of fanon!Klaus, though. It absolutely is. Often when Klaus willingly shares his feelings, or cries in front of someone, or asks for help for something more intense than tying him to a chair, it's fanon!Klaus. Hell, any time he GETS rescued it's teetering into that territory. He's still completely devoid of all of the grit and intrigue of canon, but he's fun to write about, and fun to project onto, and fun to rescue. He's also EASIER to write. People know that Klaus is a funny character, they know they laugh when he's on screen, but it is WAY harder to write a character you're laughing with than it is to write a character you're laughing at. It's WAY easier to write a character who moves your angst plot on by asking for help, or necessitating rescuing, than it is to work out how these things would happen without initiation. I get it, and in spite of the length of this, I don't think it's the end of the world.

I guess as I close this out, I would remind everyone that Klaus is smart, and mean, and over 30 years old. He's not a babe in the woods, or a damsel in distress, or a useless silly junkie twink. I promise that the real Klaus is worth the time and effort it takes to engage with him.

[shihalyfie]

Adventure and 02′s production philosophy and its impact on the storywriting (or: “a series made with love is best understood with love”)

It’s hard to really judge a series too much by its production details, but Adventure and 02′s staff has been very open about discussing background and production to the point we’re able to involve it in discussions. In fact, to a certain degree, we’ve gotten rather reliant on said production notes to explain too many things that weren’t clearly depicted or stated in the series -- I’ve spent a fair share of time complaining about how frustratingly subtle this series is -- and you see a lot of strange conspiracy theories or myths about production that circulate in all sorts of different directions. Undeniably, it’s a series that spoke to a ton of people, but there are still so many things that have perplexed people over the last two decades, and when you ask someone “what’s good about this series?”, people struggle to say it in clear words, often only able to resort to a rather oversimplified explanation like “the character development is good” (but what is character development, anyway?). A lot of times, some small things that initially don’t seem to track have led to some pretty wild, far-reaching fanbase-endorsed theories, when in fact the actual reality of the situation is much more mundane.

I think, in general, the best way to “understand” Adventure and 02 is simply to have an open mind about everything in regards to it. This is something I can only say because we currently have more than enough evidence, given production testimony, that this is the kind of series that was made with that kind of philosophy -- I will not shy away from the fact that there are things in this world that are made maliciously, meant to “one-up” the audience or using half-baked explanations as a way to cover up the fact that it wasn’t well thought-through. But in the case of Adventure and 02 specifically, almost everything we have heard about it is to the contrary, and, in practice, I find one can get much more out of the series by adjusting one’s mindset to think about what they’re looking out for and not, because once you have, the beauty of the series opens itself up even in places you’re not looking for it.

Let’s talk a little about the production philosophy behind Adventure and 02 and how it shaped a series that left such an impact on so many kids, and what we can learn from it!

“Something important that we wanted to tell the kids who were watching”

The two most important figures to know when it comes to Adventure and 02 production are its producer, Seki Hiromi (who would eventually go on to produce Tamers and Frontier as well, along with being supervising consultant on Kizuna), and its director, Kakudou Hiroyuki. I would say that both of these figures are probably the most influential people in shaping the series as we know it, but in different ways -- Kakudou was the one most responsible for building the world of Adventure and 02 and setting up the standard for having all sorts of background worldbuilding details that weren’t shown in the series, whereas Seki was the one who pushed for them to include family backgrounds and things that ought to be relatable to the average kid, so that they could empathize with the problems shown on screen.

Both of them had different ways of going at it, which is all for the better because it allowed the story to be enriched from both sides, but the common thread between the two was that they wanted to use this opportunity to “show the kids important things”:

Kakudou is the kind of person I would say is very “media literate” -- he was very well-read in books and well-versed in cinema, not just Japanese but also internationally, and also very in-tune with the Internet by the standards of a director in 1999. (Part of the reason we know so much about Digimon production now is that he still keeps up with everything on social media and throws in a few comments here and there.) His comments on the final episode of Adventure include a list of all of the things he credited for inspiring him during this series, and he later stated that he had a goal of conveying all of those “interesting things” to the kids watching, so that they could also find it interesting. So in other words, Adventure and 02 were basically his love letter to everything in media that he’d come to appreciate.

Seki was the one who pushed for humans to be involved in the series so that the audience could empathize with them, and for all of the “real world worldbuilding” like the kids’ family backgrounds. She’s also functionally responsible for the base premise of 02 at all, having been thoroughly alarmed by the story of a young boy skipping grades into university (to the point this plotline resurfaced a whole 20 years later in Kizuna). It can be said that the heavy “human drama” elements and family background emphasis continuing into Tamers and Frontier are probably her doing, and in terms of Kizuna, she also was responsible for personally vetting the dialogue to keep the kids in character, and it was said that it came off like she loved the characters as if they were her own children.

The result is that, firstly, Adventure and 02 is a series that is very well-thought through. Ridiculously well thought-through, in both background lore and character backgrounds and mentality. So many surface-level criticisms of Adventure and 02 come with an accusation that the writers were “lazy” or “did a writing cop-out”, but we actually have more evidence that the Adventure and 02 staff thought out so many details in the background that they kept forgetting that they hadn’t actually told the audience about it yet. (No, seriously, there’s a thread of official staff repeatedly forgetting that they may not have actually outright mentioned one of the background details they’d planned out in advance.) Even despite all of the extra information we’ve gotten since in the drama CDs and Animation Chronicle and such, it seems there’s still way more information that was planned out that we still haven’t learned about, and it’s presumably why there are so many little things that are too consistent to be coincidental and yet were still never actually stated. It may have been awful at communicating those details well, but those details were most definitely there, and both series have a shocking amount of consistency in adhering to them.

The second is that not only did the producer and director want to convey those important things, they also encouraged the rest of the staff to do it too:

One of the concepts behind the prior series was for us to pack in as many interesting things that we’d seen, heard about, or read about as we could into it, so for 02, we thought, what else could we put in beyond even that?, and so we looked over what we needed to have, and put in all the things we could so that they wouldn’t be left out, and the story became a multi-layered one, overlapping and accelerating. It was to the point that, after we’d gone through 02‘s story, the scriptwriters told me that they’d worn everything they had out to the ground.

So in other words, Adventure and 02 were basically a sort of potluck where they encouraged everyone on staff to come up with interesting things that they wanted to show the kids, and throw it all in -- and it’s presumably why the second half of 02 is so “crowded” (more on this later), because you had everything from all of the writers on staff adding another thing into the potluck, until everyone could get it out of their system. Yoshimura Genki, one of 02′s head writers, said outright that she used the famous 02 episode 23 to convey her concerns about some very real and horrible things happening to kids at the time, and it’s easy to imagine that all of the other writers and staff members were given similar encouragement to do so. Even the (in)famous 02 episode 13 was something originally created from Kakudou seeing Dagomon, thinking he was really cool and wanting to make an episode about him, and remembering that Konaka was good at Lovecraft and basically going “he’s gonna love this, we should get him to do an episode.” In fact, it’s said many times that a huge attitude behind production was to “not be ashamed of anything” and try whatever they wanted.

Which means that the result is a series that isn’t actually all that well-organized in plot or structure -- 02′s plot writing is of course an infamous pile of knots, but even those who are willing to be a bit more critical of Adventure often point out that its plot is simply more linear, being basically a video game-esque boss rush of “evil enemy, followed by even more evil enemy”. Most people do not watch Adventure or 02 for the actual plot writing. What they do watch it for is all of this stuff mentioned above -- that all of these different people on staff were given the question “what do you want to say to this audience of kids?” and took the opportunity to say something fun or meaningful. And, hence, why it’s best to understand Adventure and 02 not necessarily by the minutiae of its plot, but rather, “what was this series trying to say?”

Writing the series as it went along, under massive constraints

In general, Japanese anime is produced as it goes along -- even the character writing is subject to change depending on the voice actors’ performance (this was cited for Adventure specifically, but it’s well-known common practice for non-adaptation anime in general). That said, Adventure didn’t even have a guarantee of how long it was going to be at first -- it was generally expected that it’d be a one-year series (like most Toei series), but they weren’t even sure about it. This resulted in a very “loose mindset”, in which they decided to basically wing it, and the only thing determined for sure was that the epilogue (that we now know as the 02 epilogue) was going to be at the end of it.

As I mentioned above, scrutinizing the plot of Adventure too closely reveals that it’s not actually that coherent of a narrative, just more linear -- and, even by official admission, Hikari wasn’t planned to be the eighth child at first nor was the Tokyo arc of episodes planned to be that long, and yet this entire section is one of the most famous parts of Adventure. A lot of the best parts of Adventure and 02 seem to be the result of sheer accident...

...Or was it accident? Can you say that “going in with a positive mindset and a desire to do something meaningful” is accident? Even if you didn’t plan things out from the beginning, if you go into everything with an attitude of wanting to make the best out of something and make the best out of opportunities you see and hear about, is that really an accident? Couldn’t you perhaps say that this kind of thing is why Adventure and 02 hit so well with people to begin with?

By the time we get to 02, 02 started off as a very different series from the get-go, and it’s always struck me as very odd that people act like 02 was tacked on and didn’t have nearly the exact same staff. It was Kakudou himself who petitioned for 02 to start off with a light atmosphere, and the series itself was fundamentally meant to be addressing the new concepts of “relationships” instead of Adventure’s “self-assertion”, and explore concepts that hadn’t been covered in Adventure. The reason 02 is so different from Adventure is exactly because the staff didn’t want to rehash things for another year, and instead wanted to take the opportunity to cover stuff Adventure didn’t. And the fact that 02 is lighter than Adventure at first, but quickly gets darker, is also by design:

The story had gotten rather heavy by the time of Digimon Adventure, so we decided to make it come off as brighter. And then, it actually ended up getting even heavier somewhere down the line, but there was no way we could just avoid depicting important life problems.

Which is also a similar sentiment reflected by Seki herself, when thinking about how her suggested plotline ended up making the story darker:

An overly intelligent child, prone to falling into loneliness, cut off from his friends and family, and with a Digimon slowly coming and staying close to him…I remember that kind of image forming. We were supposed to have been aiming to have them going to the Digital World with the mood of a picnic, but the fact it didn’t end up so easy for them may have been my fault…or so I remember thinking as I reflected on it.

02 didn’t get dark for the sheer sake of getting dark, and in fact it’s not like the staff necessarily wanted it to get that way, but there were so many meaningful things that they wanted to tell the audience of kids that they allowed it to. It’s also kind of odd how the fanbase has this idea of there somehow being staff conflicts or people bickering in order to produce 02, but there’s no indication of this at all -- at most, 02 unusually had two head writers instead of one, Yoshimura Genki and Maekawa Atsushi, but it was even said that they had a clear division of roles, with Yoshimura on the “villains” side and Maekawa on the “protagonists” side, and there’s no sign of conflict.

(A lot of people also tend to give more credit to Yoshimura since the villains are some of the most masterfully crafted part of both Adventure or 02, but this is still somewhat reductive; Maekawa is very open about the fact that he was rather inexperienced during 02′s production, and considering the fact that the 02 protagonists aren’t nearly as underdeveloped as the fanbase claims they are, and Maekawa would later go on to write a PreCure entry that basically saved the franchise and a very well-acclaimed Super Sentai entry, both with many parallels to 02, his role should not be discounted, especially since 02 is often liked by its fanbase for the duality between both its lighter and darker sides.)

So we had the staff basically on a roll of throwing in everything important they wanted to say to the kids, both “fun” and “meaningful”, and then, two things impacted the way it ended: firstly, they weren’t allowed to go with their initial proposal for the final enemy because it was too gory, and secondly, the decision was made midway through that they would not be making a third Adventure series, and would have to end more quickly than expected.

I think, whenever you hear stories of “we were originally going to do this but couldn’t,” people generally tend to assume that they should have done the original plan (especially if the original plan was particularly gory or brutal, because everyone loves to think that edgy is better), but, perhaps fittingly for a series that’s about not drowning in past regrets of “what should have been” and learning to move on, the staff has never really shown any indications of really, thoroughly regretting any of the decisions they made for 02, even if the second half came out messy. If you look at that original proposal they had for 02′s final enemy, in which it would be an enemy “reduced to an idea”, it certainly explains a lot about why BelialVamdemon was defeated by the power of sheer positivity in the final ending -- obviously that would make a lot more sense with a conceptual embodiment of malice, instead of a returning enemy from the prior series -- but at the same time, that loss of that concept led to the creation of Oikawa, Archnemon, and Mummymon, which have consistently been praised as one of the most compelling parts of 02 and its finale, and Yoshimura herself even gushed about the concepts they got. So it’s not “we couldn’t do what we wanted,” it’s more “we couldn’t do what we initially wanted and made something out of it, arguably an even better something in certain ways.”

And as for the lack of the third Adventure series, all indications point to the fact that this was something by personal choice of the staff, not by higher-up mandate -- not that I enjoy speculating about other people I don’t know, but if you actually follow what Kakudou has said about his work on Adventure and 02, and the fact that he considers his later work on X-Evolution to functionally be getting everything else out of his system (even saying that he liked Bandai doing a lot of the work for him), Kakudou doesn’t seem to want to be the main leader of his projects for the most part, mostly seeing Adventure and 02 as the one time he got to dump all of his one-time ideas that he personally wanted to accomplish, and otherwise being satisfied doing episode direction work for others -- testimony as to the handoff between 02 and Tamers consistently depicts him as expressing sentiments similar to “please let me have a break.” (As of this writing, he still does work for Toei, but has never been lead director on a full series since.) Kakudou didn’t like having to deal with a bunch of increasingly canon-contradictory works because, as an infamously detail-oriented and consistent person, dealing with that kind of thing didn’t really seem to agree with him, and moreover it’s understandable that he (and the other staff) would feel that it was better to end it there instead of overstaying its welcome and stretching things out.

Certainly, when you look at the second half of 02, its plot is “crowded” in nearly every direction (not as incomprehensible as people like to claim it is, but definitely going in a lot of places at once). The infamous 02 epilogue is probably the biggest example of the disparity between staff thought and how it came off; remember that it was one of the first things decided about the series at all, meaning that the staff was deliberating over it and under the impression they were building up to it for a whole two years, but when it finally dropped everyone was blindsided and even often made accusations of the staff coming up with it at the last minute while drunk or something (not helped by the staff clearly being so fixated on their own production that they even included details that were completely incomprehensible to anyone not aware of the potential third series plotline). Yet, ever since then, many people who have sat down with it have figured out that it’s not that incomprehensible and that many of the aspects of it make sense on a theoretical level or are foreshadowed in the series -- it’s just that they tacked it onto the end of an excessively crowded finale with no warning and didn’t sufficiently communicate their reasoning for it, requiring people to spend the next 20 years puzzling it out and Kizuna to come around to drop even more clues, and also failed to realize that one of humanity’s most die-on-a-hill issues about media (shipping) would make people a lot more offended than they likely intended. (PreCure has successfully pulled off “adult timeskip” epilogues in recent years, and they’ve all been received well, but the difference is that they actually pad out the episode with a proper lead-up instead of just chucking it in your face right after Oikawa dies.)

And, ultimately, the staff has never shown any signs of having regret over this. Kakudou takes the stance that they were able to close out 02 in a good way, despite all of the circumstances. The rest of the staff, including Seki herself, and overall Toei as a whole, has doubled down further on the latter half of 02′s plot events and the epilogue’s place in canon despite the infamous controversy around it, and I have to say that I do at least understand why they’re like this when you consider the circumstances and their likely feelings on it -- regardless of everything, they’re proud of the work they did on it, and even if not everything went according to original plan, they loved taking the opportunity to use the sandbox to express things they may not have been able to in their other projects, and the epilogue was their baby that they’d been raising for two years. It’s the ultimate question of “satisfying the creators vs. satisfying the audience” -- not to say that I completely agree with the call to be this unaware of how people were going to read this, because it’s not good to blindside your audience or hurt their feelings, but at the same time, it’s said that you will never be able to satisfy an audience at all if you’re not satisfying yourself first. And in the end, despite everything, that something in Adventure and 02, built out of that earnest desire to say something, came across in some ways and touched the hearts of kids all over the world.

So the result was that the Adventure and 02 staff did everything they wanted, got it out of their system, and handed an imperfect but carefully-crafted baton to Seki, who decided that it was a good opportunity to do something completely new, and deliberately picked Tamers’s director Kaizawa on the grounds that he’d had no experience with the series before. Remembering that Seki was on Adventure and 02 and was clearly happy with it, her decision to do something new with Tamers was just that -- to do something new -- and it’s honestly kind of saddening that the series’ respective fanbases treat each other with significantly less respect than their actual creators do, since both series still shared a lot of staff, Kakudou went on to be an episode director for Tamers (and even calls it a “masterpiece”), and Konaka clearly has a lot of respect for his predecessor series as well, with Tamers being its own product made with conscientiousness and a desire to make things meaningful for kids (Kaizawa himself has expressed a lot of strong opinions on this topic). A lot of anti-02 folks have often spread a conspiracy theory that Tamers came out of a “writer revolt” because they hated being “restricted” by 02 and wanted “more freedom” -- but that is completely contrary to the above evidence where 02′s production process arguably gave the writers too much freedom, and Tamers head staff was picked deliberately due to their lack of connection to the prior series so that they could do something conversely new and fresh...

One thing that’s interesting about Kizuna is that its director, Taguchi Tomohisa, has spoken very often about his love for the original series, right down to respecting its ability to cover very serious topics. His recruitment philosophy for the movie also seemed to have “being a fan of the series” as a big plus factor, and he moreover shows a lot of respect for the staff members involved in production, both the people he recruited and the long-timers like Seki. “Being a fan of the series” doesn’t necessarily constitute skill by itself, but there’s a lot of similar sentiments in “let’s make something that shows respect and does something interesting and important” and “let’s make sure the staff gets to do something without regrets” also seem to be pretty huge factors in consideration here, rather similar to the original series...

What this means in terms of understanding the series

I do not think that, just because a creator clearly had good reasoning for putting in what they did, the audience necessarily has to accept that. It may have had good intentions, but "intentions” don’t justify things coming off the way they do, or at least, the 20/20 hindsight can make us all get together and think “if that was your intention, there were probably a million better ways to execute that.” And, as someone writing this blog, there are times I really think “if you could have please just thought a little harder about making those ideas clearer so we wouldn’t have to have these arguments...”

However, I do think there is something illuminating about the idea of “adjusting one’s mindset” in response to the above revelations, and going in with an open mind when trying to get something out of the series for one’s own sake. I mean this truly in the sense of encouraging others to find something interesting and new -- this is not a blog I write expecting people to see things the same way I do, as much as I like encouraging people to look out for things they might have not noticed beforehand.

I started writing for this blog regularly last year (I hadn’t even planned to start regularly doing it) after a rewatch of Adventure and 02 with some friends and some honest discussion about the series after it, and one thing we all agreed to do when we did that rewatch was “we are not going to go in with the intent to criticize it.” That is to say, we decided to throw out all of those sentiments that you have to “admit” everything wrong with any series when even bringing up its name -- which is not to say that we’re glossing over potential criticisms or their validity, just “we’re doing this rewatch to have fun and to enjoy and appreciate things, and that will be our priority going in.” After making that agreement, something really magical happened, and it was that we started catching things without even looking for it, things that had clearly been planned but hidden in the background, or things that were caught by one person in the group watch chat and pointed out to the others, and it turned out that a huge chunk of the “criticisms” we might have originally gone in with actually did have answers, we just hadn’t realized it because we were too brainwashed into the mindset of dismissing things as “well, that part’s just bad writing.”

Of course, we’ve seen bad writing -- it’s not like we were going out of our way to absolve everyone for every mistake -- but that base mindset allowed us to better appreciate things we might have missed earlier that weren’t immediately apparent. I’ve said many times that I don’t think the things I write on here are that huge speculation -- in fact, in writing meta, I often throw out a lot of stuff because I think “yeah that’s too absurd, let’s just stick with the simplest explanation” -- as much as I just thread things that are in the series but are frustratingly subtle, because I’m taking things that seem like throwaway details and going “hm, well, instead of just dropping it the first time like ‘probably bad writing’, let’s maybe look at this one more time and see if there was a reason?” And those reasons present themselves surprisingly easily without even that much effort, and after a while you come to realize: this is a really consistent series!

It’s actually very rare that things outright contradict themselves, because it really does not take long to piece together a rational explanation (because those things are in the series, just buried)! This was a detail-oriented series that had a ridiculous amount of attention paid to it, even if it didn’t communicate that! Whenever I post meta, I often get comments from people who say outright that they’d had the same impressions, they just didn’t know how to put it in words! There’s been multiple cases of people independently coming up with readings of the series that the fanbase historically dismissed as a reach, only for official to come out and confirm they were absolutely correct, and a common thread between all of these is that they were referenced in the series, it’s just that people kept wanting to dismiss them because “there’s no way they’d be that detailed”! A truly contradictory series falls apart when you subject it to higher scrutiny (even when you’re being optimistic about it), but there’s a strange thing about Adventure and 02 in that they actually fit together even more when you look closely -- and, again, things start coming in when you don’t even expect it, just because of your mindset.

I suppose the take-home here with all of this is that a series like this is best understood when you have an open mind and a desire to listen to what it has to say. As I said before: Adventure and 02 (and especially 02) are not series that most people watch for the plot, and, to be honest, it’s clear that plot wasn’t even a priority for all of the staff in the first place as much as it was about conveying important ideas and sentiments. And I’m not going to say whether not prioritizing plot or not is a “good” or “bad” thing -- for some people, that kind of thing is understandably very important, and a series like 02 can be very frustrating to deal with as a result! -- as much as, for those who have a genuine interest in sitting down and understanding these series, I cannot recommend scrutinizing the plot too much simply because it will not get you very far, and, to be honest, whenever I see a lot of analyses of Adventure and 02, I really do often wonder if they actually understand the core of the series and the sentiment and emotion behind it, or whether they’re just doing it on a technical surface level so they can say they did (which is usually partially as a bid to passive-aggressively dunk on later series to prove Adventure is superior). The entire concept of objectivity is a lie in itself, but this is not a series that you can get much out of if you try to evaluate it with that kind of detachment; it’s a series that spoke to you through theme and passion first and foremost, and to receive that message and “enjoy” the series is most effectively done when you detach all of those doubts and approach the series without malice.

(By the way, this is not me claiming I’m inherently a “better” analyst just because I also prefer to use this mentality when approaching it; it’s just that I’m a bit frustrated that this kind of approach is so hard to find, despite Adventure’s popularity, because losing out on the heart causes so much rich potential to get lost. This is also the reason I recommend @analyzingadventure‘s work so much -- I’m so sorry about tagging you for the third time here! -- because they’re as positive about Adventure as I am about 02, and their insight and thought into the series coming from the angle of “appreciating” it with genuine positivity is something I believe is truly valuable in a climate where this is very hard to find.)

And this is what I mean, “to approach it without malice”. I don’t mean that you should go in prepared to never have criticisms of it ever again, nor that you should just absolve everything and assume that everything is fine, but rather that going in with a mindset of “we’re going to look for things to love” instead of “we’re going to ‘look past’ the bad” alone has the magical effect of shifting your entire view of the series, way more than I would say with any other. And, again, that’s only something that can happen when the base product was made with this much sentiment and honesty to begin with, and moreover fighting against the mindset to criticize is tough when we’re dealing with a fanbase that’s acted like being “fair” requires “acknowledging” the faults of everything in the same breath you praise it until the horse is beaten for two decades and everyone’s exhausted. (And then yells at you if you dare criticize anything that’s put on the fanbase’s pedestal.) It’s kind of the question of: should this really be about media criticism and whether it’s “objectively” good or bad, especially since this has been brought up so often for two decades now, or might it be better to think about how to have a more positive experience with something that you may not have had before?

Once you get rid of that mindset of “critical by default”, you start to realize things that the series did knock out of the park, or were exceptional, that got too obscured by the distractions of fixating on its plot -- 02 is a plot mess for sure, but I have never seen any series that is so sincere and earnest about its actual themes and things it wanted to say, and it’s something I love it even more for. And buried under that criticism of everyone not getting “equal attention” from an evolutionary forms perspective is the fact that, from a story perspective, they deliberately went out of their way to make sure everyone gets mostly equal focus, which is something that sticks out especially when you start watching other long-running series that aren’t as good about this, and although it’s not completely perfect by any means, they do a damn good job keeping everyone in the 8- and 6-person groups relevant to the very end, which is pretty impressive! And, in the end, you end up having a much healthier relationship with the series -- again, it’s not glossing over everything to pretend nothing is wrong per se, but rather, you’re able to appreciate it and love it for what it is, instead of constantly feeling like you’re making up for its “mistakes”.

[llendrinall]

As we all know, Charlie Weasley could have played for Britain had he not gone off chasing dragons. There’s a lot of gold that comes with being a good international player. What do you think it would have been like if the Weasleys were doing better financially?

Frankly, I don’t think things would change all that much. Not everybody is a Ronaldo or a Messi (to draw parallels with football/soccer) making really stupid amounts of money. At least during the first few years, until Charlie became a Big Name, he would make money, maybe even tons of money, but I doubt it would be enough to change things significantly.

Mostly I think Charlie would be very unhappy and Percy’s break with the family would be much more intense (what! After the way he behaved in canon? Yes, more than that. Percy would be the next Charlie, getting a job far away and visiting home rarely).

The question here is: why are the Weasleys poor? There is a quick and dirty answer, which is that JKR wanted a rich=bad, poor= good - noble, structure. But she didn’t build a reason as to whyit is so. (There is also no reason why the Malfoys are rich, but money has inertia so we can half buy it). Thus, she accidentally made the Weasleys come across as reeeeally financially irresponsible and the creators of their own poverty.

Let’s look at the money. Supposedly, Hogwarts is free for all students, which makes sense because a significant portion of those students will me muggleborns and I can’t imagine how that conversation would go with their parents (“Your child is gifted! Magical! Now let us take them for 10 months of the year and give us money”). Hogwarts budget must come from the Ministry and the expenses are supervised by the Board of Governors. This, together with how big the Ministry infrastructure seems to be, makes me think that taxes in the wizarding world must be pretty high.

(US readers, double whatever number you are thinking).

Let’s say… 40% of income at the very least. That’s a big chunk for the Weasleys, considering they only have one salary. Since Arthur is overlooked for promotions, we can guess his salary isn’t high. He is head of a department, but it’s a joke department.

The books hint that the Weasleys own the land they live in. If they were renting the Burrow, and it would be hilariousif their landlord were Malfoy, then the house should be in a better state and they wouldn’t be responsible for the gnomes or the ghoul. Since there was no dramatic subplot about Malfoy trying to kick them out, I will assume they own the house and the land. Maybe they have a mortgage on it? One with ridiculous high rates, for argument’s sake.

So that’s most of the money accounted for. What other expenses do they have? According to the ONS the average UK household, after taxes, has a budget as follows (simplified):

Housing (rent, interest and upkeep) – 33%

Food and utilities – 20%

Transport – 14%

Recreation – 12%

Holidays – 11%

Restaurants – 7%

Other – 3%

Let’s say that the mortgage has an insane rate, so 40% of the budget, after taxes, is going there. But we can scratch transportation right away since they have apparition and side apparition and, more importantly, they have nowhere to go. The kids are homeschooled and the one person in the household who has to go to work everyday, can simply apparate right before the office. So that 14% of transportation can go to the housing budget.

Next, food. The Weasleys have many more children than average so the food expense should be higher. On the other hand, they have a lot of land. Supposedly a plot of land of 24x30m (80x100 feet or, for the Americans, about the size of a small Starbucks, the kind that is integrated inside a business) is enough to feed one person for a year in an exclusively plant-based diet. My experience is that a plot of 10x10 meters (32x32 feet or a small Subway shop) can feed a family of 4 if they supplement with eggs and milk and they are smart with the crop distribution.

If the Weasleys kept hens and an orchard, they could keep the food costs low enough that the large family size wouldn’t matter. Plus, during the teenage years, when the calorie demand is higher, the kids are in Hogwarts 10 out of 12 months of the year.

This still leaves them with a very small budget. But considering the only thing magic can’t produce is a) food b) a property deed, almost everything else can be procured with a spell. Furniture wear and tear? A reparo will take care of that. Kids are growing and we need bigger beds? Transfiguration. Clothes? Buy the fabric and use a spell. Maybe it won’t be pretty, but it will be cheap. There will be many luxuries they can’t afford. No eating out, no holidays, no fancy broomsticks. And there are some unavoidable expenses, like school supplies (although books could be reused). Although with the exception of Ginny, there are 2-3 years between children so they have time to save. The moment a kid reaches Hogwarts age they have to make a big investment of wand, cauldron, etc. and then they can write them off. The high taxes also mean they have services like free healthcare and free education with board and room.

It’s a difficult situation. But notice that it’s one that I have created myself. We don’t know if they have a mortgage and we don’t know the tax duties. I’m just coming up with reasons for the expenses while not giving them supplemental income, like Molly selling preserves and whatnot.

I still think that things shouldn’t be so tight that they can’t afford a new wand for each kid. Yet Ron went to Hogwarts with Charlie’s old wand and spent a whole academic year with his wand broken. The Weasleys should had been able to afford a wand. Sure, they just bought Ginny’s school package, but Harry gave her some of the books. It might set them back, it might mean no new robes for the family, but they ought to have that money. Books you can reuse and hope the content is pretty much the same. Wands, you cannot. With broken wands, you are putting your child’s education and even life in danger.

Ron didn’t get the new wand because it was useful for the story that his wand was broken, but the internal logic of the story speaks of extreme economic irresponsibility. Despite all the excuses I tried to come up with (high taxes, high mortgage, Molly is working all day at the garden) not giving Ron a new wand points at a situation of extreme financial ignorance.

So, if Charlie went the Quidditch route the Weasleys would do a bit better, they might pay off their debt, but I don’t think they would be able to grow savings because they simply don’t know how. Charlie would have the added stress of not only performing well in his job but also being the main bread-winner for the whole family. Percy, who is quite observant, would have constant fights about what he considers unnecessary luxuries. He would resent his father even more and he would accept the first job that took him out of the country. The twins would probably resent Ron and Ginny a bit, since they would be the ones to experience having new things.

Charlie would have to make truly astounding amounts of money so that his earnings overcome the family’s blundering of the budget.

[clonecest-bin-account]

Request: Toast (the sandwich/toast clone) and Dogma, SFW, where Dogma is new to the Coruscant Guard after being transferred there post-Umbara.

(This turned unexpectedly serious hdsjhfh anyway I hope you enjoy!)

When he’s been told that he had been reassigned to the Guard, Dogma had been confused. So what? No reconditioning? It turns out, reassigning clones left and right has been a strategy that has been going around for a while, now; the Jedi know about it, but they always turn a blind eye when they find a trooper in their ranks that wasn’t there before.

So hooray, he’s not going to get reconditioned, but now he has to navigate through the Guard; needless to say, he’s not that confident in his interpersonal skills, but he’ll manage, he’ll have to. He doubts he’d get a third shot at this, so he can’t screw this up.

Things turn out to be not that bad, especially considering that everybody minds their own business, which he appreciates. There’s also a certain structure and security that he appreciates, something that, in the heat of the battle, it was impossible to maintain for the battalions that are more involved in the war efforts.

 After he’s had enough time to get used to how things are on Coruscant, he’s been sent to prison duty; more specifically, he needs to supervise the correct cremation of the prisoners’ dead bodies, which is quite morbid, thinking about it, but at least isn’t that hard for a rookie to do. Besides, Dogma has already lived through the battlefield, he knows about death, so this doesn’t faze him too much.

There’s only one thing: he doesn’t know what to do about his co-worker. Not that he causes any problems to him - he’s quite jovial actually - but still, Dogma doesn’t know how to address him, or if he should address him at all. He’s not exactly a huge fan of “making friends”, though the more time the two of them spend together, the more he wonders if he should at least try to strike a conversation with him that isn’t work related.

What if he sounds unlikable? What if they don’t get along? Wouldn’t that disrupt the working space’s peace? The last thing Dogma wants to do is to cause trouble, not when he’s got a second chance that he doesn’t even think he deserves.

 Still, one day, the curiosity becomes too much to handle, and…

 “Toast?”

The other clone startles before turning towards him. He probably wasn’t expecting to be addressed like this, out of the blue, and by Dogma of all people. “Yeah? Something’s wrong?”

“No, I was just wondering… Your name…”

There, he finally said it: it’s since they’ve met that he’s wondered about his name. Not that it’s such a weird name - at least Dogma thinks so, though he doesn’t believe clone standards are that universal when it comes to this stuff - but… Let’s just say that he has a hunch, and he wants it confirmed so that he can begin focusing on something else. Yes, he’s thought about it a lot; don’t ask him why, because he doesn’t know the answer himself.

“Ah…” Toast utters. Dogma isn’t able to read the expression on his face. “Well, I think we’ve been in each other’s company for you to understand why I’m named like that…”

Oh yes, Dogma is aware of Toast’s eating habits, but that’s not what he’s wondering about. “I just meant…” C’mon, Dogma, you can do it. “Did they give you this name, or did you choose it?”

“Huh?” Toast cocks his head to the side, looking at Dogma like he doesn’t understand what he means. Then he goes back to look at the control panel. “Well, if you really want to know, I didn’t pick the name. People began calling me like that and it kind of stuck.”

Oh, so it is like Dogma suspected. Interesting…

 “How about you?”

“Sorry?”

“What? You asked me about my name, but I can’t ask you about yours?” Toast chuckles. At least he doesn’t look offended or upset.

“Oh, that…” Dogma mutters. “Well, it’s not that different from your name. I always followed orders to a fault, and thus ‘Dogma’ was born.”

“I see…”

 For a moment, neither of them speaks again, thinking about this odd similarity they share.

Then, Dogma opens his mouth, and everything he’s been holding inside comes overflowing in his words.

“It didn’t bother me, or at least it didn’t use to, but now… You know, I’ve been wondering. If I was so much like that to earn myself a name specific for how I acted, can I ever become something more? How much of me is me, and how much is ‘Dogma’?”

He doesn’t even know why he’s telling this to Toast of all people, especially considering that they’ve barely interacted, but he couldn’t help himself. Maybe it’s because, deep down, he hopes he can understand.

“You know, I think I get what you’re trying to say…” is all Toast says on the matter, but to Dogma it means the world, because it means that he’s not alone in this.

 And to think that there was a time in which he didn’t even care about it. For him, being called Dogma was a source of pride, because following orders is what they’ve been born to do, but after Umbara… He’s not so sure about that anymore.

Maybe one day, he’ll figure it out…

 “Hey.”

O-Oh… Did he space out? Yes, he absolutely did. “Y-Yes?”

“I was wondering…” Toast begins, eyes still on the control panel, almost shy about looking at Dogma in the eyes. “You’re free this evening, right?”

“Yeah,” Dogma replies. Toast should know; they have the same shifts after all.

“Then… Would you like to… I don’t know, go to 79’s or something?”

Is Toast asking him out? Or maybe it’s just a friendly outing. Jeez, Dogma, don’t jump to conclusions immediately.

 Is this because of the discussion they’ve just had? Or would’ve Toast invited him anyways? It’s hard to tell, though if he has to be completely honest, Dogma doesn’t really care about it.

Whatever the reasons may have been, he still feels flattered that someone would want to spend time with him, especially considering how little they know each other - and maybe that’s the reason, a mean voice suggests. Still, he believes that the two of them understand each other a little bit.

Besides… He never went to 79’s, and he’d lie if he said that he’s not curious about it, thus Dogma can only turn to look at Toast, waiting for him to do the same, and smile.

“I’d love to.”

Tag list: @maulusque​ @snap-p​ @menac-ika @captainrexwouldnever If you want to be added feel free to let me know! Just know that if you are a minor you’ll be tagged only for the sfw fics.

[vgilantee]

The Manager || Platonic! Sunset Curve x Reader

Requested by anon

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: the guys swear because nobody can tell me that a bunch of 17 year olds in a rock band in the 90’s didn’t swear. I know i said fluff but i had an angst idea and it was too good not to add (i’m sorry). and while i don’t bother with adjusting to the american spelling most of the time, I did for ‘mom’ and ‘flavor’ and i hated it every time i typed it. final note: if i were to do more parts it would become a series rewrite, so if that’s something that interests you, let me know!

Warnings: character death, unhappy home life (no details)

While being the manager for Sunset Curve often felt closer to being a parent sometimes, it’s not a job you would trade for the world. Well, less a job because you weren’t really getting paid, but it was a good gig. You got to see some awesome venues and other small musicians, you quite often got free food from venues, and of course, got to hang out with your favourite boys. They gave you a place in the world, somewhere where you felt at home. They were family. Plus, Luke had graciously allowed you to crash in the studio with him when things got bad at home. 

You swing the door open, duffle bag over your shoulder, and march into the studio. It’s late, again, but your parents had started going off while you were trying to study and your father had mentioned your name, so you grabbed the emergency bag and climbed out the window. Luke looks up from his page and watches as you drop the bag on the ground and flop face down on the sofa. 

“Again?” You hum and nod into the pillow before flipping onto your back. 

“Dad said my name and mentioned something about grades and the band and I left before they could drag me into it further.” You glance over to see he has closed his journal and is resting his forearms on the acoustic in his lap. 

“Smart move.” You laugh and shift again to lay on your side. “The guys are in the house getting food by the way.” As if on queue, Reggie walks in with a stack of pizza boxes, Bobby has his arms full of bags of various snacks, and Alex is carrying an open cooler full of bottles of soda. 

“Oh hey, Y/N!” Alex raises the fingers on one hand in a wave before putting the cooler on the ground in front of the sofa. 

“Parents again?” Bobby gives you a sympathetic look before dropping the bags next to the pizza boxes Reggie had put on the coffee table. 

“Yep!” You pop the ‘p’ sound with false enthusiasm.

“You may as well just move in at this point.” Luke says it like a joke, but it’s been a joke for so long that you all know he says it seriously.

“You know what?” You sit up quickly and give a short nod. “My parents both have work tomorrow, you lot are gonna help me grab what I need.” It was that simple. The boys all make varying statements of agreement before sitting on the miscellaneous chairs around the coffee table. 

--

Luke had suggested you all dress in black for the heisting of your belongings, and as Alex was the only voice of reason, you all ended up head-to-toe in black. 

“Shh.” Luke whips around and presses a finger to his lips when you swing the door shut behind the group.

“There is literally nobody home Luke. And also this is my house. We don’t need to be quiet.” You gesture around the entrance with your hands as you speak, and Luke turns around and pulls the black beanie he insisted you wear, down over your eyes. You swat him away and he shushes Reggie as he laughs at you.

“It’s a heist! You gotta be quiet.” You roll your eyes after putting the beaning back in place on your head, before walking towards the staircase. “Everyone remember the plan?” Turning around you fold your arms and roll your eyes again. 

“School stuff.” Bobby salutes Luke, who nods. 

“Blankets and pillows!” Reggie copies Bobby’s salute, and is also nodded at. Alex rolls his eyes, and with far less enthusiasm holds his hand in a salute.

“Stuffing and zipping up bags.” Luke nods once more then turns to you with an expectant look. 

“Toiletries and underwear.” He taps his foot and clears his throat dramatically, staring at you, waiting. “Oh, right.” You salute him as well.

“And I’m on clothes!” You hear the noise of his hand hitting his forehead as he salutes with a bit too much force. “And if we hear the ‘rents, we move to Y/N’s room as quietly as possible, where we will finish packing what we have and bail out the window. Let’s move out!” You aren’t sure if he expected you all to go separate ways, but you move as a group up the stairs and into your room so that everyone can collect bags. Bobby takes your school bag, Reggie a duffle bag, and Luke and Alex reef a suitcase out from the top of your wardrobe. You swing a drawstring bag over your shoulder as you watch Luke nearly drop the suitcase on Alex, who promptly swears at him. 

With a final salute, you all part ways. You hear Bobby thundering down the stairs as you walk over to the bathroom, rolling our eyes at him. Grabbing your toiletries, including spare deodorants and toothpastes, before moving back into your bedroom where your drawers have been pulled open and clothes are being tossed onto the bed by Luke. You can only watch in horror and amazement as your clothes are thrown out of the drawers, and Alex folds them at an incredible speed. You want to ask him how he is folding them so quickly, but you don’t want to break his concentration. Instead you move to the unopened drawer and collect all your underwear, shoving it into the bag in your hands on top of the items already in the bag. You grab your hairbrush, adding it to the bag, before pulling the strings on the bag and closing it. 

“Need a hand, Alex?” He looks up after placing a folded shirt neatly in the suitcase. He opens his mouth to respond but instead snorts as you are hit in the head with a pair of jeans.

“Shit, sorry!” You pull the jeans from over your shoulder and glare at Luke, who has his hands covering his mouth.

“Screw you.” You flip him off, then fold the jeans and place them in the suitcase. 

The three of you managed to empty all your drawers and were in the process of sorting out what heavier jackets to take from your closet when you hear a door close, followed by thundering feet. The door is swung open and Bobby leans against the doorframe. 

“Mother.” Is all he manages to get out before Reggie tries to push past him and they both tumble into your room, making a thump as they land. 

“Shhh!” You and Luke push your index fingers to your lips, shushing the guys at the same time, but it’s too late.

“Y/N?” You all freeze as your mom calls out for you. You turn to the guys, left index finger still pushed to your mouth, as you point to the window with quick and sharp motions. They all nod and collect the bags and suitcases (a second was grabbed at some point in their packing) and move to the window. You don’t want your mom to know you are home to avoid whatever argument will undoubtedly occur, hence the attempt at silence, but when Reggie drops the suitcase he’s carrying with a echoing thud, you realise that won’t be possible.

“Shit. I’ll meet you at the car. Go!” You whisper harshly at the guys as he raises his hand to apologise and you leave your room, shutting the door behind you to hopefully muffle any more noises they make and buy them some more time. “Yeah mom?” Your mom waits at the bottom of the stairs, arms folded, as you make your way down. “What’s up?” You try to mask your anxiety about the whole situation by leaning against the railing.

“Don’t ‘what’s up’ me. You disappeared last night, and while I know you were at the studio with the band, you could have at least called to let me know that you were okay. Because really I didn’t know for sure because you didn’t call! You could have even called me this morning to say you were coming home. I had no way of knowing if you were safe, or, or, or if something had happened. I didn’t know!” 

“Mom-” You try to say something to calm her down but she interrupts, clearly not finished with her lecture.

“And you’re letting your grades slip! Running around with those stupid boys in that stupid band. You say you’re their manager, but it’s not a job and it’s definitely not a career! You need to pay more attention to class instead of going to clubs and venues with them. Which isn’t safe! Running around Hollywood with those four idiots in the middle of the night, sometimes not even coming home. There are all kinds of dangerous people out there and with no adult supervision anything could happen!” 

“Mom!”

“No. Your father isn’t right about a lot of things but he’s definitely right about not letting you see them again. Being friends with them is dangerous, not because they are, but because none of you have any common sense or self preservation!” 

“Mom, enough.” You rarely stood up to her, and you had never scolded her before, but calling the only four people that truly felt like family ‘idiots’ was the last straw. “I know it isn’t a job, but they are my best friends, and I enjoy going to those venues! I know it could be dangerous but the five of us are always together. My grades haven’t slipped, except maybe a couple of classes by one or two percent. But it’s not going to ruin me. And-”  The door slams shut and you look up quickly from your mother to see your father in the door. 

“Y/N.” Your father speaks very even and monotone, and his moves are all calculated. But his hands are clenched and his eyebrows are furrowed.

“Hi dad.” It was overly formal, and your brain screams at you to run, run from this conversation. But you can’t. You need to make sure the guys are as far away as possible, hopefully even at the car. You don’t think your father would track them down to stop you, but you don’t want to tell your parents you are leaving, and really you weren’t actually sure he wouldn’t track them down and drag you home. “How was work?” Poking the bear was very stupid.

“You disappeared last night, didn’t bother to leave a note or anything and scared the shit out of your mother!” You flinch slightly as he raises his voice. “You won’t be seeing that ridiculous band ever again, I can promise you that.” You glance at the clock and quickly decide that the guys have had enough time to get to Bobby’s car parked in the next street over. So you nod along in faux understanding. “You’re grounded, and you will spend the rest of the night until dinner studying.” You scoff and try to act pissed off, storming back up the stairs. To add to the act, you slam the door shut behind you, before grabbing a hoodie and climbing out the window.

You sneak around the house, watching your parents carefully as they move to the living room. They seem to be arguing again, almost certainly about you. You hop the fence into the neighbours yard then book it down the street to the waiting car. The engine is going and the second Reggie sees you, the windows are rolled down and they are yelling at you to hurry up, Bobby leaning over to open the passenger-side door. You laugh as you dive into the passenger seat. The door is barely shut when Bobby revs the engine and you drive away, a rock song from a mixtape you had made Bobby for his birthday playing loudly through the speaker and the five of you singing along and laughing. 

--

“Boys I have excellent news!” Wrong notes are played and a drumstick is dropped as you fling open the door with a piece of paper in your hand. 

“Christ, Y/N.” Bobby places a hand to his heart as Alex leans down to pick back up his drumstick.

“What’s the news?” Luke places his guitar on a stand and slides over to you. 

“Sit sit!” You gesture your boys towards the sofa on the opposite wall. “I won’t just tell you, there’s no fun in that!” They groan but comply, squashing together on the sofa, Alex with his legs over Luke’s, Reggie sitting cross-legged with his feet under him, and Bobby putting his feet up on the coffee table. 

“Well?” Luke leans forward over Alex’s feet and rests his elbows on his knees. 

“As you know I have been going around to potential venues to get you guys a show that isn’t in a bar that perpetually smells like puke, while you are playing your puke-scented shows and writing new hits.”

“Yeah.” They all reply at the same time and your smile grows.

“And I am also the best manager in the world, especially because of the fact that I am your manager.”

“Yeah yeah. Just tell us.”

“Bobby, quiet. I am building suspense.” Reggie swats his arm as if to say ‘yeah Bobby’. “Anyway. You also know that you are all incredibly talented and you will become the biggest band every.” The guys are all leaning forward and staring at you, waiting for you to finally tell them what news you’ve bought. “Alex, drumroll.” He immediately complies with an enthusiastic drumroll on Luke’s back. “You’re playing the Orpheum!” You throw your hands up as the guys all jump up and celebrate. “Are you serious?” Bobby grabs the piece of paper with the show contract as Reggie picks himself up off the floor after tripping over his feet trying to stand. 

“How did you do that?” Luke is jumping on the sofa and Alex is shaking you by the shoulders. 

“I’m just that good.” You manage so say through the laughing and shaking. 

--

“Size beautiful.” You roll your eyes as Alex groans and Reggie hands the poor bartender the shirt and demo. 

“Thanks.” She laughs as she holds up the Sunset Curve shirt before tossing it over her shoulder.

“I am so sorry about him.” You say genuinely to her, stood between Reggie and Luke.

“No worries. I’ll make sure not to wipe the table down with this one.” She offers them all a polite smile that you can tell is a forced customer service smile.

“Oh, good call. Whenever they get wet, they just kinda fall apart in your hands.” Alex gestures with his hands and you hear Bobby sigh.

“Don’t you guys have to go get hotdogs?” Oh? You realise that Bobby very likely wants to flirt with Bartender Rose and is trying to get rid of you all, finding his bandmates embarrassing sometimes. Luke pushes him back and nudges you with his shoulder as he leans over the bar, giving it a quick drum with his hands.

“Yeah, he had a hamburger for lunch.” He bounces then walks away, and Reggie shoves his shoulder.

“See you before the show.” You elbow him as you follow after Luke and Reg, and Alex bounces to catch up to you.

--

You eye the hotdog as it is handed over to you. You trust the guys but you don’t trust this hotdog ‘vender’ who is the sauce bottle sitting in his engine. You watch as Alex tells him that he spilt pickle juice into the car as you add sauces and toppings to your own. The vender says that it will help and laughs as Alex sputters, looking at you mumbling about how that doesn’t sound right. 

--

“That’s a new flavor.” You nod, continuing to chew as Alex says what you are thinking through a mouth full of hotdog.

“Relax,” Reggie looks over at him, “street dogs haven’t killed us yet.” The logic is sound enough so you all take another bite. 

-- 

You stomach hurt, god it hurt. It was like being punched in the gut over and over again, and your stomach was turning, and with every breath in your sides hurt. You could hear Reggie and Alex groaning over your own noises, but you couldn’t hear Luke anymore. You felt the tears rolling down the sides of your face but you couldn’t move your hands away from your stomach. You barely heard the paramedics arrive over the sound of the blood rushing through your ears, and while you could hear them talking you couldn’t decipher words. 

You let out a sob as a paramedic leans over you. You barely register being lifted onto an ambulance bed, but you turn your head and watch as Alex is lifted into one. As they wheel you out you see a black bag being zipped up. 

You feel light headed as they lift you into the ambulance and you hear Reggie gulp in a breath, before the paramedics swarm over to him. Alex is wheeled in next to you and you see his hand reach out to you. You forcefully peel your hand away from your stomach and hold his hand. You squeeze your eyes shut and hear the paramedic sigh, defeated. You let out a groan, then a sob, and squeeze Alex’s hand as you struggle to breathe. He lets out a pained noise and squeezes your hand back.

Then it’s all gone, and your body is rising. You turn to Alex and see your body, and Reggie’s body, with a version of him floating above his body. You stare at him wide-eyed but he looks past you at Alex. You both watch as the paramedics give up on you and move over to Alex as the heart rate monitor gives a solid high beep. And then he’s rising and looking at you and Reggie. The three of you rise above the ambulance and you hear Alex whisper Luke’s name, looking above just you. You catch sight of him for a second before he disappears. The second he does you feel the pulling that was simply causing you to slowly float up, gave a harsh tug and you were suddenly in a black room. 

Alex cried when he arrived, and you felt yourself panic. You were dead. You just died. You and three of your best friends had just died. Reggie was pacing and Luke had just sat on the ground, head in hands. Your own hands were shaking and you couldn’t look at one spot or person for longer than a second. 

The pulling feeling returns after a while and you are falling, the four of you screaming before landing on a carpet, a girl around your age screaming back at you.

---

Taglist: @parkeret​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @amazing-socks​ (if you want to be added to a tag list, send in an ask!)