#viiegos

[umbranatus]

viego :  AT  LAST. . .  ionia kayn :  hi,  you  look  very  breedable  today viego :  [ car  backing  noises ]

[essence-flux-primed]

@viiegos

⋆ — He was invited, so obviously he’s going to show up. There’s free booze and a reason to get off Vlad’s couch, plus the promise of socialization, so yeah, he got himself dressed up for this, nice suit, shiny shoes, the works. He’s showered, shaved, and totally coping. He was going to show off how well he’s doing—really, he was!—but then he was sitting at a table with a young couple who were looking at each other with moony eyes and whispering about how maybe they’re next, maybe they’ll catch Isolde’s bouquet, and all Ezreal can think about is Lux. He’s thinking about the double dates they’d go on with Viego and Isolde, and he’s thinking about the way they used to make googly eyes at each other, and then he’s three glasses of champagne deep and it’s not helping because all he can think of is her and—

     “—What?” The word comes out heavy and lopsided, like it’s too cumbersome to handle. Ezreal can’t bring himself to look at Viego right now, not in that gorgeous suit of his. Ezreal’s brows are pulled low and he sways slightly where he stands and a glass is held precariously in his hand (might as well get the most out of the free drinks, right), and he still can’t bring himself to look his old friend in the eye. It’s infuriating. It’s embarrassing. He wishes Malz  were here. “Don’t you have, like...” He pushes his hair out of his eyes with his free hand, and for just a second his eyes lock on Viego’s before shifting away again. “I don’t know, people to talk to or something, Vieg? Can we not do this right now?”

[belsevere]

@viiegos​ / ☠ / accepting

             ⚔ ’   runeterra was not a place so  different from her own world . they warred , they bled , they died , just like all mortals were destined . still , it would be a lie if nylnysa said that she had not been surprised by the presence of the curse of UNDEATH and wraiths bound to the land of the living . when she had stumbled through portal that had taken here to these foreign lands, she had originally believed she would have an assortment of hostile and confused living folk . instead face to face she stood with a man in crown , reeking lonliness , death , hopelessness , pain .              ah , a little piece of home . a sharp grin was bared from beneath her helm , her eyes, azure pinpoints in the dark , sighed fog from their narrow corners .  ❛ you look like you would make a fine servant . ❜ the echoed declaration comes in insulting  replacement of a greeting.  a gauntlet covered hand raises , its digits ending in metal claws as the threads of dark power slither between them like longing serpents. ❛ come , submit to my will and guide me through your world. ❜  overzealous of her yes , but was it not true that an attempt was better than no attempt at all ? even if her thrall magic proved useless it would so amuse her to meet his vexation with the sharpness of her fanged smile .

[essence-flux-primed]

❥ " Ezreal ! Do you know what day it is ? It's White Boy Wednesday ! Clearly , we ought to celebrate you , mm ? " hand is brought up to teasingly pinch at the other's face . ( MODERN AU I WAS POSSESSED TO SEND THIS )

⋆ — "Finally, a day just for me! About time, too." He links his arm with Veigo. "What'll we do to celebrate, huh, Gogo? Eat bland food? Get sunburned by standing in the sun for five minutes? I could really go for, like, a hamburger right now."

[mercless]

The mist swirls , curling && clawing closer as though a living thing , grabbing , reaching for life to take , to claim . pale figure within grows more visible as he strides closer , parting the impenetrable black with ease . " What is it that you are hiding . . . ? something you've buried deep — I can feel it. "

There were only so many places you could go, in trying to evade the Mist. Getting cornered underground was dangerous, more so than in the open air. Talon had done their best in avoiding the hard-hit areas of Prime, but they knew having to run from the dark fog was inevitable. Uncertainty on whether it was poisonous had brought a fabric mask up to the assassin's mouth, though it would not prove useful. Talon comes to a halt as his visage appears, as the mist finally takes hold of their form as it wove its way around them. Confusion masked the anger at his question, and brought their arm blade up in preparation.

"What?" The gruff response was all they could manage as too many questions filled the assassin's mind. Such a personal jab was the last thing they had expected from anyone in the Mist. And they kept so many secrets deep down, never to share. Yet with his simple phrase, something dredges up those buried feelings. And with it, Talon's unchecked despair. They stagger back, held in the clutches of the mist as they desperately fight to regain control. "He- No... you-!" Their glare is quick to clear as it snaps back to his pale form. Teeth grit together, ripping themselves away from the prying fog. The wide look in their eyes would be mistaken for frustration by the untrained eye.

"What do you want from me?"

[regalentempire-a]

" I don’t want to get into a fight with you. "

♡   NORMAL PEOPLE   [  𝙱𝙾𝙾𝙺 𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝙿𝚃. 𝟷  ] // accepting

@viiegos

The sight of him made his blood boil, his eyes saw red for only a few seconds. The words had pierced through his clouded, rage filled eyes. Shutting them briefly as he let out a sigh. Counting to calm himself so that he wouldn't shatter his calm image so soon.

It was just a letter. That's all it was. Just one. He shouldn't be so mad. It was just one small letter.....

As he opened his eyes, they were pale instead of red. He studied him, looking him up and down to at his appearance. Hands clasped behind his back as more seconds passed by before he spoke, a forced smile accompanying it.

"Neither do I, my boy...."

[cautelous]

👩 & 👨

Family Headcanons

👩 = What’s your muse’s relationship with their mother, what made it that way?

It’s nonexistent, at the moment, but pre-Julian-turning-14 it was bad. (It’s still bad. He’s pretty terrified of the Marchands even now... The man will climb Targon for the woman he puts on a pedestal and obsesses over loves, but face the Marchands? No, he couldn’t.)

Marie Marchand is a noblewoman originally hailing from Noxus. She’s also the type of mother to be pretty controlling over what her children do, especially after the disappointment of her first son, Sebastian. By the time Ambrose (Julian, but it’s not like he was called that then) came around, she was pretty great at making sure everyone stayed in line. Which meant that no, Ambrose, you can’t do something stupid like be an artist or have an individual personality that I don’t like.

It also didn’t help that Ambrose wasn’t exactly expected, but y’know. You live and you learn and you emotionally scar all of your children in various ways!

👨 = What’s your muse’s relationship with their father, what made it that way?

Also nonexistent! Also bad before Julian ran away!

Laurence Marchand is a Piltovian businessman. The Marchand family business has changed over the generations, but at the moment it’s a nebulous collection of trade and transportation ventures. They have an investment in Piltover’s rail system, for example. (The Marchands would, funnily enough, function excellently in current Piltover’s mercantile - and mercenary - clan system. But they aren’t in that Piltover, so there.)

While Marie was actively controlling, Laurence was that “funny” sort of distant. He’s always been more invested in the Marchand business than the Marchand family. (Which might be why Aster, Julian’s oldest sister and resident cutthroat girlboss, was so interested in the family business, hm? But this isn’t about her issues, is it now.) I’m sure he had great views on how involved a father needs to be in a family and also what a man’s supposed to do and be in general. Out-of-universe, he’s less fleshed out than Marie, Sebastian, and Aster are. I’ll get to him when I get to him.

Summary: less actively awful than Marie, but the absence of awfulness does not mean the abundance of goodness. Or any goodness at all.

Laurence is also dead, I think, by the time Julian is in his mid-30s. But I’m not quite sure. Hooray if he is, though.

[sanguiresse]

“ Uncle . . . Do you believe monsters are born, or made? ”

FANTASY STARTERS.

     Camavor has lovely gardens. It's nothing like the flora back home— and that's for the best. The land that Vladimir has known is decrepit, barren, and harsh. But here, everything seems to have a natural inclination towards life. The ferns are bright and green, the flowers fragrant and lush. Warm summer air stirs with a slight breeze, and Vladimir walks through, with Viego at his side.

     But the question surprises him. He cants his head to the side, eyeing Viego curiously. And then his attention returns to some lilies. He carefully places his fingers under the petals, to examine the flower closer.

     "That's an interesting question," Vladimir says, his words careful and guarded. Has Viego discovered his true nature, then? Has he delved into the rumors of sorcery and bloodbaths? No, he reminds himself. They are too far from that. Camavor is too far. There's an entire ocean between here and there.

     But he is not in the habit of lying. And he has no intentions of starting with Viego. Vladimir sighs. His fingers are delicate against the lily, and he lets go.

     "My dear Viego," he says, "there is a monster in all of us."