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League of Legends (リーグ・オブ・レジェンド) ~ Zyra

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New jewels from friends ☺️✨

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outofthorns.  zyra would absolutely tie her hair into one thick braid and weave flowers into it . . or a big messy knot and lace flowers into the bottom of it.

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league doodles from my twitter

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How to play Zyra

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Gently presses his finger into the dirt surrounding a wilted rose bush. Frowns when he notices it's quite dry and then proceeds to use his bottled water to remedy that issue.

ah  ,  finally  .  it’s  been  so  long  since  last  rainfall  .  a  quiet  sigh  exhales  through  her  network  of  roots  and  stems  and  leaves  ,  breathes  into  brittle  rose  petals  .  gradually  ,  shades  of  amaranth  percolate  into  the  many  withered  flowers  peppering  the  shrub  and  the  water’s  effects  are  near  immediate  .  all  she’d  needed  was  one  sip  .  just  one  .  as  if  an  echo  on  the  breeze’s  tail  ,  you  can  hear  a  hush  ❛  thank  you  ,  ��  pass  the  youth  by  .  he  would  be  spared  ,  for  he  has  earned  the  stranglethorn’s  favor  .

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"... would you have me if I submitted on my knees?" [ HAVE a rAUNCHY ASK ]

❛  –  for  dinner  ?  absolutely  .  i’ve  learned  long  ago  to  never  pass  up  a  free  meal  .  ❜

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❛  how  dare  you  make  jokes  out  of  my  children  withering  .  where  is  the  HUMAN - ITY  ?  ❜  see  ,  she  could  make  puns  out  of  your  species  ,  too  .  👏

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If plants could talk; i wouldn’t need humans 🌱

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❛  one  more  .  make  one  more  joke  .  i  dare  you  .  ❜  oh  ,  she  is  so  incredibly  done  with  the  exile  . .  and  her  terrible  ,  terrible  sense  of  humor  .  do  it  ,  riven  .  make  another  plant  pun  .  do  it  .

❛  this  is  no  time  for  puns  !  ❜  retort  is  spat  back  in  venomous  timbre  .  thick  viridian  green  vines  sprout  from  the  soil  beneath  her  feet  and  coil  about  ,  rising  in  the  air  swiftly  .  how  dare  she  take  the  death  of  her  sweet  children  so  lightly  !  ❛  how  are  you  going  to  fix  this  ?  ❜

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❛  aye  ,  but  i  am  no  rose  .  ❜  brier  fingertips  weave  betwixt  burgundy  strands  ,  pulling  thick  hair  over  shoulder  .  a  simper  dances  on  the  edges  of  deep  dark  lips  and  she  will  stare  into  her  company  with  a  quiet  knowing  ,  for  zyra  was  no  primrose  ;  she  was  not  a  pretty  flower  meant  to  be  groomed  and  aesthetically  adored  .  but  a  stranglethorn  most  toxic  .  roses  may  sting  ,  but  she  lashed  ,  whipped  ,  turned  your  belly  inside - out  and  asphyxiated  you  with  a  singular  brush  of  enticing  petal  .  with  slow  ,  calculated  steps  does  the  ancient  harvester  gait  around  the  other  .  ❛  i  am  a  STRANGLETHORN  .  and  what  are  you  ?  ❜

amber  hues  prowl  over  each  ignited  limb  ,  curiosity  written  in  subtle  expressionism  .  a  singular  brow  quirks  and  lithe  ,  leathery  limbs  fold  beneath  bosom  veiled  scarcely  by  twin  petals  .  she  recedes  vines  momentarily  .  a  new  world  ,  new  people  ,  new  magicks  .  you  could  never  be  too  careful  ;  after  all  ,  her  own  survival  was  most  imperative  .  instead  ,  said  vines  will  crawl  ‘round  the  trunks  of  ancient  trees  ,  slither  over  thick  roots  ,  and  design  themselves  about  the  youth  .  and  in  mere  moments  ,  lush  and  gigantic  flowers  of  all  varieties  spring  to  life  from  them  ,  bringing  vivid  colours  and  aromatic  scents  to  the  scenery  .  zyra  smiles  and  it  is  mischievous  corner  to  corner  .  ❛  no  need  to  be  so  feisty  ,  little  one  .  it  was  only  a  compliment  .  ❜

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#poisonivy #dccomics #dc #art #ink #inktober #inktoberday11 #copic #copicmarkers #pentel #pentelbrushpen a poison ivy sketch I started yesterday, but finished today!

By Mingjue Helen Chen

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❛  this  is  no  time  for  puns  !  ❜  retort  is  spat  back  in  venomous  timbre  .  thick  viridian  green  vines  sprout  from  the  soil  beneath  her  feet  and  coil  about  ,  rising  in  the  air  swiftly  .  how  dare  she  take  the  death  of  her  sweet  children  so  lightly  !  ❛  how  are  you  going  to  fix  this  ?  ❜

;[ zyra. ]

❛  you  forgot  to  water  them  .  you’ve  killed  them  ,  my  children  .  hh  .  .  ❜ a  seething  chews  the  inside  of  her  cheek  ,  furrows  small  brows  .  she  clenches  brier  tips  into  the  soft  flesh  of  palm  and  it  takes  all  her  might  not  to  lash  out  upon  the  runic  warrior  in  that  moment  .  one  task  !  place  them  under  sunlight  and  WATER  them  ;  one  .  simple  .  task  .

@eciled sowed her seeds.

       SOME PART OF HER felt quite the guilt for letting Zyra’s plants        WITHER; it was, however, not her intention! Something so menial        and laborious was just not a task she could commit to her memory, and,        to top it off, the instructions ( as simple as they are ) became a         twisted puzzle Riven could not solve. Did she only want them to have        partial sunlight? How much water was enough? 

             Not wanting to admit that this failure was due to executive              dysfunction, she opts to try and bring light to the situation.

           “I can’t beleaf never get to take root…”           

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Who needs a sextape if we got Mr & Mrs Smith?

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Zyra

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amber  hues  prowl  over  each  ignited  limb  ,  curiosity  written  in  subtle  expressionism  .  a  singular  brow  quirks  and  lithe  ,  leathery  limbs  fold  beneath  bosom  veiled  scarcely  by  twin  petals  .  she  recedes  vines  momentarily  .  a  new  world  ,  new  people  ,  new  magicks  .  you  could  never  be  too  careful  ;  after  all  ,  her  own  survival  was  most  imperative  .  instead  ,  said  vines  will  crawl  ‘round  the  trunks  of  ancient  trees  ,  slither  over  thick  roots  ,  and  design  themselves  about  the  youth  .  and  in  mere  moments  ,  lush  and  gigantic  flowers  of  all  varieties  spring  to  life  from  them  ,  bringing  vivid  colours  and  aromatic  scents  to  the  scenery  .  zyra  smiles  and  it  is  mischievous  corner  to  corner  .  ❛  no  need  to  be  so  feisty  ,  little  one  .  it  was  only  a  compliment  .  ❜

❛  oh  my  .  .  aren’t  you  pretty  ?  ❜  she  will  coo  and  it  will  drip  with  a  poison  most  lethal  ,  most  tempting  .  a  rose  which  sheathes  it’s  thorns  in  deception  .  and  curious  vines  rove  across  nimble  bodice  and  milky  appendages  ,  invading  the  young  woman’s  personal  space  with  a  wicked  curl  of  lips  .

  Chills render over the Princess’ skin, a combination of both the voice of pure toxic seduction and the greatly discomforting sensation of the vines rummaging over her skin. Power glows from her royal eyes, trailing over her body and exhaling gold as if it were a breath from her lungs.

  ❝ Careful. You are not the only one who wields power, forest witch.❞

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❛  she  does  not  .  .  ❜  a  muted  hum  flows  from  the  earth  daughter  ,  and  she  will  muse  over  the  possibilities  of  a  name  .  meanwhile  her  child  exercises  it’s  jaw  as  a  humble  fly  buzzes  overhead  ;  teasing  the  plant  by  hovering  just  barely  out  of  stem’s  reach  .  lips  form  a  pursed  line  .  and  a  flick  of  wrist  is  given  ,  adept  fingers  capturing  this  bothersome  insect  .  it  is  fed  to  her  sweet  flytrap  ,  as  a  mother  rears  it’s  baby  .  ❛  snap  .  this  is  her  name  ,  but  she  is  no  snap  pea  .  ❜  ah  no  --  truthfully  ,  zyra  had  never  been  particularly  creative  with  names  .  this  was  obvious  in  her  oldest  pets  ,  vine  lasher  and  thorn  spitter  ,  named  so  for  their  abilities  as  well  .

gilded  gaze  then  roves  to  him  .  a  singular  brow  quirks  ,  curiosity  illustrated  in  subtle  expressionism  . ❛  you  ,  human  man  .  what  is  your  name  ?  ❜

Her flowery ‘heart’ is composed of human remains.

❛  she’s  gotten  so  big  .  .  ❜  betwixt  willowy  digits  does  zyra  hold  a  venus  flytrap  ,  thumb  brushing  it’s  papery  flesh  with  a  profound  delicacy  .  it  snaps  at  her  and  she  cannot  stay  the  chime  of  feather - light  laughter  that  expels  from  vermillion  brims  ;  it  is her  child  after  all  ,  and  how  feisty  they  were  !  teenagers  ,  really  .  gilded  gaze  draws  to  the  long - coat  man  near  ,  then  ,  a  query  she  already  knew  the  answer  to  extending  out  to  him  .  ❛  isn’t  she  pretty  ?  ❜

@daddyearth sowed his seeds.

Mother nature does not judge her new borns by their pounds, but by the stability of their roots. It was intriguing——to see how she coddled the flora, delicacy apparent by her touches and composed by her half lidded eyes. The planet triumphs all, and protects those who are one with it. The sweetest of roses could skin humanity alive & feast on its innards if it wanted to—-All it needed was a dose of moxie.·

                          ❛ Hm. She is, I suppose. Does she have a name?·‘