#Mount Targon | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ohnoitstbskyen · 9 months ago

Note

What’s the difference between Ascended, Aspects, Freljordian demigods, Aurelian Sol, and whatever Soraka’s got going on? Are they all just different varieties of League gods?

Hoo boy, okay, so. First of all, Riot have been pretty adamant that there are no gods in Runeterra, every god-like being that exists in that universe is actually a spirit or just a very powerful being of some kind, but definitely no real gods, no matter how much it seems like they are definitely writing these characters to be actual literal gods.

I don't 100% know why they are so insistent on this, but I imagine it has something to do with censorship and ratings agencies, or maybe they just don't want to have to establish any actual theology on Runeterra. Volibear isn't the god of storms for real, he's just a super powerful spirit that can create storms in the Freljord, but not all of them, so please don't ask us whether every single thunderstorm in the Freljord was something he did deliberately. That sort of vibe.

To go through them point by point:

Celestials & Aspects

The Celestials are beings like Aurelion Sol and Bard, which exist as cosmic entities operating on levels of power and motivation beyond human understanding. They came into existence with the universe itself, and tend to busy themselves governing various parts of its operation. They are, again not gods (Riot is very insistent on this), but Aurelion Sol literally made every star in the galaxy, he's functionally the progenitor god of Creation.

Some of them, though, like to interfere in the mortal world of Runetera in various ways, and they tend to use mortal vessels to do it. That's where we get Aspects: Aspects are mortals who are chosen by the Celestials that live on Mount Targon to contain their power and be their avatars in the mortal world.

Leona is the Aspect of a Sun celestial, Diana of the Moon celestial, Pantheon is the Aspect of War (or he was, until Aatrox killed it, but he retains access to many of its powers), and Zoe is the Aspect of Twilight, and so on.

Soraka is another Celestial in mortal form, but she is NOT an Ascended. Rather than possess a mortal, she created a mortal body for herself and poured the whole of her being into it, which is causing her body to permanently burn up from the inside while she regenerates it with her magic. She lives on Runeterra and acts as a mysterious mystical wise guide and mentor to mortals who need it.

Ascended & Darkin

Ascended are somewhat similar in kind to the Aspects, but usually lesser in power. The Ascended are also human beings infused with Celestial magic and power, specifically with the power of the Sun, although as far as I know, that power is drawn not from the Celestial of the Sun who empowers Leona, but directly from the physical Sun itself. This means the Ascended aren't possessed by Celestials and retain full free will, at the cost (or let's be real: benefit) of being transformed into furries, which extremely coincidentally just so happen to closely resemble the gods of the Egyptian pantheon. but again, they are definitely not gods, please don't put it in the newspaper that they are gods.

I don't know exactly how canon Riot considers this anymore, but the lore was that the Aspects of Mount Targon gifted the power of Ascension to Shurima in order to produce Ascended that could serve as shock-troops in the war against the Void, which is a swarm of extradimensional horrors that are constantly trying to eat the world. Whatever the case, the Ascended DID fight the Void, and it traumatized and corrupted them so badly that they degenerated into body-horror blood monsters called the Darkin.

The Darkin fell into civil war and it got so bad that The Aspect of Twilight (not Zoe but her predecessor in the role) decided to use some magical trickery to imprison them all in their weapons, which is where they've stayed for a few thousand years, getting even more traumatized and mentally destabilized by the total sensory deprivation and solitary confinement. If any mortal touches a Darkin weapon, it immediately assimilates them and uses their flesh as a new host, and then goes on a killing rampage about it. That's where you get your Aatrox, your Varus and (eventually, once he devours Kayn) your Rhaast.

Gods, Spirits & Demons

This is the category for Ornn, Anivia, Volibear, The Seal Sister and so on. The Freljordian people worship them as gods, but they are, technically, only extremely powerful nature spirits, manifestations of the nature of the Freljord itself, which draw power from the land and to a lesser extent from their worshipers. There are many, many lesser nature spirits, which might be worshiped as gods by particular tribes or hold power over particular areas, but Ornn, Anivia, Volibear, The Seal Sister and the Iron Boar are the most powerful and most widely revered.

On a similar note, Ionia is absolutely choked to the gills with spirits, because those lands are soaked in magic. They are usually not worshiped as gods specifically, but take the shape of everything from dragons to living trees to sprites and will-o-wisps and which roam fairly freely in Ionia. This includes characters like Lillia, who is the daughter of a magical tree of dreams on whose branches the dreams of mortals grow and mature, and it includes Ivern, who is an extremely powerful and ancient nature spirit formed from the soul of a magical tree.

Demons are distinct from spirits, in that rather than drawing on the power of the land or fountains of magic, they draw on the emotions of living things for their powers. The most powerful demons are known as The Ten, who get their power from the most primal emotions that living things feel. Fiddlesticks is the demon of Fear, and Nilah somehow draws her strength from Ashlesh, the Demon of Joy, whom her order has imprisoned. We don't know who the rest of the Ten are yet, but Riot seems to have that worked out somewhere in their internal deep lore.

Swain has a lesser (but still powerful) demon of secrets called Raum bound in his arm through some sort of deal, Evelynn is a demon of anguish and pain, Tahm Kench is a demon of addiction, and Nocturne is a demon of nightmares.

Besides those, there are an untold number of lesser demons, who feed on more and more specific feelings, and thus are less and less powerful because there's simply less of that stuff around to feed on. They are often called Azakana, and may be demons that feed on feelings as niche as, like, noblemen's fear of their extramarital affairs with handsome commoners being discovered. Yone hunts the Azakana and collects their mask, although even he doesn't know quite what for.

Death

This is where we place the Kindred. Technically they are merely Spirits of Death, but more than perhaps any other category of creature, Riot keeps writing them as Literal Gods of death and I don't think it makes sense to think of them any other way.

The Kindred take on many different shapes all across Runeterra, seemingly influenced in large part by the expectations of the people or creatures who are dying, but their most popular visage is that of a Lamb and a Wolf, hunting together. Lamb's merciful arrow ends your life if you accept that your time is up and go gently into that good night, but Wolf hunts you down and rips you to shreds if you resist and fight to your last breath, destiny be damned.

The Kindred are there for every death on Runeterra, they are the mediators (as far as we know) of all forms of death everywhere, and by far the most classically "anthropomorphic embodiment of universal existence" style god in the lore that we know of. Where a god like Anivia only really has power in the Freljord, the Kindred have power everywhere there is life. Only the undead escape them, and even then, only temporarily.

In Conclusion

YES Runeterra has tons of gods, it obviously has gods, you can't walk five feet in that universe without tripping on a god, but they tend to be gods with hard limitations on their power and influence, and rarely have powers on the level of bending reality itself.

Even Aurelion Sol, who literally makes stars, can't snap his fingers and undo causality, for example, or suspend the laws of physics wholesale.

Riot's weird insistence on "no gods in Runeterra" is more of an affectation, a bit of a put-on, than an actual narrative principle, and most of the gods of Runeterra can be understood very comfortably through the lens of various non-Christian religions like Norse or Greek mythology, or the hero/god characters of something like Polynesian myth.

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milksuu · 10 months ago

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❝ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ❞ ─── ☾⏺☽

pairing: yandere!aphelios x solari!priestess!reader (LoL)

warning: non/con, fem!reader, possessive/obsessive behavior, mentions of blood/violence, religious/fanatical behavior, unhealthy coping mechanisms, minor drug use, implied kidnapping, implied forced relationship, semi-public sex, unbalanced power dynamic, runeterra au

notes: sorry besties, he's a 10 but he's bat shit insane. (so an 11) also any mention of 'her' is the moon goddess, not alune. (we're leaving that sweet summer child out of this.) and for those who aren't aware, phel can speak when not under the influence of noctum, but unable to communicate with alune, which is uh...great in this case. (also not me wanting to write a second part like how why help?)

You never thought you’d stare into the pale visage of the Lunari man the village whispered about.

The one with a vacant face but deadly occupation. Your naïve belief in your own safe keeping was nothing more than an illusion. The sun always faded below the misted cliffs, only for the moon to take its place above the mountain’s highest peak. An endless cycle of hierarchical dominance that rinsed itself in blood and repeated in constant turmoil. Tonight would be no different.

“Don’t come any closer.”

A failed attempt to embolden your voice beyond a meek plea. You stiffened at the thunderous closing of the temple door. A clambering echo vibrated through the marble floor and pillars, past the rows of worship, up to where you stood at the crest of the ceremonial altar. The remaining resonance rattled and sang up your spine, shaking the candle light pinched between your fingertips.

The figure sauntered forward, stepping into the drapes of moonshine filtering from the glass atrium above. Before you stood a deadly beauty; a handsome face rapt with enticing secrets. With a painted crescent that mocked your own solar marking of gold. His lips were a perfect horizontal line, and it was difficult to imagine the ability they possessed beyond lethal silence. His hallowed expression screamed danger—but there was no running away—not when the black abyss of his eyes invited you to stay.

Not as a guest, but as his permanent resident.

“I’m warning you. Take one more step, and I’ll scream. The guards will come and they won’t hesitate to kill you—”

Your voice went taut inside your throat. Your breath sewn shut against your lungs. The weapon he carried listless at his side drenched itself in various hues of red. Fresh enough to steam in wisps around the sharpest point of the blade.

He stalked forward. The clack of his predetermined steps quickening the pace of your heart. When he stood at arms length, you felt the coldest touch of night. The veins layered beneath your skin pounded, flooding every inch of you with mortal dread. It was sickening to think the flush of your flesh would only make the spill of it all the better. The ‘Weapon of The Faithful’—titled by his own blasphemous people—spoke true. His name…you wished you could cleanse it from existence.

“Aphelios.” You damned the name like a plague upon all of Mount Targon. “Murderer. Blight. Heretic!”

You jabbed and swung your candlelight in a pitiful attempt to create distance. His free hand quipped against it, sending it clambering to the ground, banishing the flame to the surrounding night. Creating a hazier veil of darkness where there was only one true light—his moon.

Out of sheer disdain, you attempted to slap his face in recoil. His unarmed hand caught you by the wrist, remaining still as you struggled to free yourself from his trained grasp. With force, he pried your hand open, palm exposed. He brought the skin of it to his stiff lips. Unmoving, he lingered there. His lashes fluttered closed; taking a moment of peace, a moment of prayer.

A moment for sanctum.

His eyes then winged opened, boring into you, through you. Body, bone and soul. And all you could do was tremble within them. Sinking without escape into those black depths of…nothing.

In one swift motion, he brought the blade upwards, slicing through the thin linen of your garments. In a precise vertical line, your gown split into two equal halves. The insignificant barrier between you and him slipped to the ground, splaying like rags at your feet. Your head pounded for you to scream, but your own voice felt lost to you. Knowing it was all meaningless.

No one would hear you.

No one would save you.

Weakened by the surmounting despair of it all, if he hadn’t already had a hold on you, your legs would have given to the earth.

“No—“ you choked out, eyes brimming with tears. It must’ve looked pathetic; the way you placed your only free arm across your exposed breasts. As if any decorum of modesty would spare you. “Please—just kill me. Do nothing else but that. I beg of you.”

Your final sob for mercy reached ears that may as well have been carved of stone. He stalked closer, forcing your lower back to meet the mantled altar behind you. He’d sheathed his weapon, and took both of your hands within one tight grasp, in case you had half a mind to oppose him. You dipped your chin, heaving through a prayer with mournful hics and sniffled utterances. His advancing weight forced your trembling legs to part, and slotting himself between, created a space where your faith could never exist.

You didn’t want to look at him, or rather, you couldn’t. Tears scorched your vision and seared down the round of your cheeks. You flinched when he took your chin, raising your blurry gaze to meet his. In those darkest of pools, something gave. An insignificant speck of light gleaming into a faint existence. His lips moved, but there was no sound. Instead, you traced the words from the bow of his mouth.

‘Forgive me.’

Your heart clenched. Diluted blood spiked with fear drowned your consciousness. It left no room for thoughts to linger; whether or not you imagined even an ounce of sympathy reflected in those sedated eyes. Whether or not you imagined he said anything at all.

The entire world scattered away when he brought your face closer, and kissed away the tears staining the corners of your eyes. You fought to pull away, but he held firm, both your chin and hands locked in the cage of his fingers. From your cheeks, he skimmed his ghostly lips to your mouth. He muffled your protestive moans by filling up your mouth with all of his tongue.

He gave you the salt taste of your own tears. That, and the taste of something else. A saccharine flavor with notes of floral and bitter earth.

A reaction flourished; a slight tingle of your lips at first. It made his tongue feel hotter against yours, as parts of your upper mouth went numb. A stream of lukewarm paralysis seeped past your soft palate, filling every nook and cranny of your mindscape. Yet, the secondary symptoms didn’t stop there. An opposite wave traversed down your throat to your stomach, spilling fire throughout every layer of nerves. You clenched your lashes tight, shuddering a gasp into his open mouth.

When the pain settled into a dull simmer, you wondered briefly, had he felt it too? Had he consumed such a substance by choice? If that was a taste, what pain did he endure if he drank it like an offering of wine?

You didn’t want to imagine the terrible effects it might’ve had on his person. Not if it gave you even a single drop of sympathy. It was revolting enough his saliva was poisoning your pure sense of self. The fog of it sullying your inhibitions, stripping away your layers of moral preservation. To the absolute vitriolic parts of yourself, it made you consider…

What would it be like to be touched?

It was too sick and cruel of a thing to do to you. Since birth, you’d devoted your body and soul to your divine Goddess; The Golden Sister. You wanted to be disgusted by allowing the gift of yourself to become tainted by some awful man. No—he was worse than that. Or any word you could craft and cut the corners of your mouth with. He was, by biblical history, a Lunari man born from the cataclysmic eclipse of two moons. A day that marked the day of reckoning of the Solari faith and your people.

Your clouded senses and busied mouth made you unaware that his hand left your face to trail the mounds and curves of your body. A light touch drifting to your inner thighs. You jolted when a finger graced the sensitive hood of your exposed clit. Your thighs squirmed at his side as you attempted to jerk your knees. It did nothing and stirred nothing from him. Except bolster his conviction, tempting a finger lower, teasing your folds already glistening.

Although light-headed, you ripped your mouth away and nipped at his lip. It sprang forth droplets of blood, enough to taste his iron on your tongue. A trivial satisfaction.

“May you burn at dawn,” you condemned and spat at his lips.

Unflinching, he withdrew his hand and brushed over the blood mark you left. Sweeping it across his bottom lip, along with your saliva, he rolled the consistency between his fingers in private contemplation. Before he looked you dead in the eyes and stuck his fingers inside his mouth. Sucking and licking till his fingers dripped. Watching sent a lightning strike coiling down your spine.

He loomed his weight forward until your back met the altar mantle. With your palms pinned above your head, and legs coaxed wider. His coated hand repositioned down to your entrance, and you writhed with any strength your body could lend. His hold wrapped around your wrists squeezed, gentle in its reprimand. He leaned down to brush his face at the side of your cheek.

“Please…for your own sake.”

Your eyes widened at his frayed whispers stringing together. Breathing life into what seemed like an empty shell of a person. The frigid space between his mouth and your ear kindling with the slightest bit of warmth. It was what you feared the most. Forced to accept he was every bit human, with a horrid courtesy to use polite words and a pleasant, sickening tone. More insult to your injury. You wished he hadn’t spoken at all. Letting you believe in your mind that he was more aberration or phantom. Or anything else that carried not a single hint of a beating heart.

“I don’t want to hurt you…not anyone, really.” Again, comforting yet noxious. And it made whatever was inside you throb so terribly. As if he could sense it, he reached for it. His salivated finger split through your folds, sliding into the heat of your cunt. It elicited a drawn out whimper as you felt the sensual brush of it against a bed of tingling nerves. Gradually revealing a hidden desire you hadn’t wanted to gratify him with.

“But you…and your people…need to accept what can’t be denied any longer.” He punctuated his words with each thrust of his finger as it curved into that crescent shape you despised so much. Yet, you couldn’t deny the way it made your most feminine parts unravel at the seams. ”No matter how high your sun rises, my heavenly moon will always eclipse it. And fill the sun with Her beauty for all to see.“

A hitched whine fluttered past your lips as he easily slipped a second finger. While the heel of his palm pressed in circles, spreading your arousal and stimulating your plumping clit. Your cunt unashamedly sucked on his long fingers, encouraging him to mold and form you into what he needed you to be—a conduit for the undying affections of his faith.

“You might not see it, but the divine path has been shown to me. The one that’s led me to you. You can feel it at least, can’t you?” He flexed his digits and plunged a third finger. Deeper than the last, fuller than before. Your hips rolled forward on their own accord, craving every bit of attention from his touch.

With deliverance, you answered the question with a wail and arch of your back. Your whole body washed its nerves in a blinding heat. His fingers curled and flexed at your hungry walls clenching around him. It pushed a gush of sticky fluid from your twitching hole into his circling palm. Coming down from the spasms, you sobbed at the humiliating response of your body.

“So you do feel it.” There was a hidden sentiment of relief in his otherwise placid delivery. As if he’d purged the last blot of doubt that restrained him. You swallowed a mouthful of whines as his probing fingers continued undulating inside you. “Your body…it’s begging to devour me in all its warmth. And mine, yearning to take all your bright stars and bathe you by moon glow alone. Wanting us—and only us—to become one.”

Without warning, he emptied you of his fingers, a filthy squelch following with it. You sucked in a gasp at the crippling cold he left you with. But he wouldn’t abandon you for long. Shifting in the dark haze above you, he unsheathed his length from his garments and pressed himself against your sopping cunt. He dragged his fullness against your swollen and slicked folds. He wasn’t even inside you, yet you felt an agonizing cramp fisting in your stomach.

“By Her orders, by Her design…” he spoke through tight whispers, strained by his own anticipation. Pressing his full weight down, he hovered mere inches above you, panting bouts of aroused breaths against your lips. “Let us Converge.”

You squirmed and bucked underneath him. “Nn…not with you…anyone but—!”

You broke off into a high-pitched cry as he stretched you open, filling you up till he bottomed out, and pressed up to the hilt of his hips. He silenced both of your newly coupled hymns with his mouth, and each lap of his tongue matched the tempo of his generous thrusts. The sharp, intrusive pinch died as quickly as it came—the insignificant remnants of toxin dulling bits and pieces of certain pain receptive nerves. A gift, perhaps, in this instance. He had also prepped you well enough to accept all of his adoration, as intended. Another gift, as someone of his ‘giving’ nature may phrase it.

Pulling away slowly, the tip of his head rubbed graciously against every ridge of your swelling walls, before languidly pushing back, going past where you seemed to end. Beyond your farthest points you hadn’t thought existed. Pressing and rubbing all your soft spots and cervix with careful deliberation.

Then again, and again, and again.

“Can you feel it…my devotion…” he groaned into your open-mouthed kisses, continuing to work himself inside you. You weren’t even sure if he was speaking to you, or through you to his false Goddess.

His free hand found the round flesh of your breast, rolling your budded nipple delicately between the pad of his thumb and index. The other hand, squeezing at your captured wrists, but never tight enough to bruise. He had you lulling in a spellbinding rhythm underneath him, your hands fastened above your head, and hair spilling over the opposite side of the altar. When his mouth left your full lips, he possessed the nape of your neck, sucking the delicate skin above your life line. Your mewls, laced with the chasteless sounds of his base squelching at your entrance, leapt your pulse to an unreturnable pace.

“So warm,” he moaned low, staving off a growing need to revel in his own whines of ecstasy. “This pure sunlight of yours…I’m blessed to be the one who takes it. And you should be too. What an honor it is to be of service to my moon.”

You wanted to hate everything about it. The way he kissed you, the way he moved inside you—but you couldn’t. Every stiff and engorged part of him pressed almost lovingly against your most vulnerable parts; but that wasn’t the proper word for it. His affectionate caresses were zealous in origin. Not even for you. And boderlined a hedonistic doctrine you couldn’t describe. It would’ve been better if he were a man of barbaric qualities; rough and brutal. Not purposeful and diligent and—dared you admit it—tender. If he were the former, then your disgust could be justified, and your body would refuse him in its own rightful way. But it defied you, the lecherous thing. Insisting you melted beneath him and reduce to nothing but a drenched mess. Completely at the mercy of this Lunari man’s act of worship.

“Are you finally realizing it now? How generous my Goddess is compared to yours.” He abandoned the curve of your throat. Within the flush of his face, his eyes were suppled in absolute vindication at your shameless image. “How willing you are to accept me—to accept Her.”

“N-No…I’m…not…I won’t,” you pried your tongue for words.

He drawled out a quivering whine from your mouth. His body picking up to an impassioned pace, rutting into your sweltering heat. Tethering on his own abandoned pleasure. Your legs pushed themselves wider, opening yourself up more for him, drawing him deeper to pound against the tender knot growing in your belly.

Choked moans tightened in his throat. Your radiance gripped him with conviction, burning him so divinely from tip to base. Dragging him closer to your complete consummation. His fingers caught the contour of your face, tilting your head back. Your already swimming eyes rolled to follow, and watered at the sight of your Solari Goddess. Carved out from the temple wall, her sacred marbled gaze met your disgraceful expressions.

“That’s…hn…alright. You can lie to me. I’ll—we’ll always forgive you. But can you say the same for your deity? As she watches her little sunlight being pleasured by the moon’s devoted weapon. I—ha…doubt it very much.” An airy laugh cut through his thick moans intertwined with yours. He continued, inhaling and exhaling his words, raspy and down right broken. “It’s—almost our time…as reverence…your insides…with all of my…”

You couldn’t refuse the vile implication of his words. Not when his thickened, throbbing cock lapped achingly against your muddled core. Your blood boiled, draining out from your collapsing bodily veins to well up inside your stomach. Applying a pressure that made you want to burst into unmendable fractals of yourself. And you did—that tight knot broke in an instant, dilating your insides in a blaze of heat. Flooding you so wholly, you almost forgot to breathe through your delirious sobs of release.

When the smooth ridges of your walls clamped down, you heard it first as a moan of afflicted surrender on his part. Then, the cock buried inside you pulsed. A stream of white-hot fluid poured into you, shooting well past your cervix, bathing your womb with his warmth. But he didn’t stop there, continuing to indulge. He pumped and pushed the concoction of unified fluids till it poured past his base, and dripped in milky heaps from your hole. His pelvic and abdominal muscles shuddered as his hips rolled slowly but needingly, nursing himself through his over-stimulating climax.

From your tearful, half-lidded gaze, you witnessed a wet glisten in his own eyes. Whether induced by overwhelming pleasure or pained remorse, you would never know. You didn’t want to know.

It didn't matter.

They evaporated the moment he blinked again.

When the heaves and pants subsided, only the echoes of your whimpers remained. Unfastening his grasp from your wrists, his icy hands cupped your sulking face, idly running his thumbs across your soaked cheeks.

“I understand your pain. Believe me, I do. But no amount of tears will keep the celestial cycle from shifting in the moon’s favor. Like any phase, there will be a moment when you won’t hate me as you do now. You might even come to...love me.”

The way he paused made it seem he had no sense for the word. Or what the difference was between what was love and obsession. The look he possessed didn’t instill solace, either; his eyes mere slits of black against his porcelain face. Promising the moment you dared turn away from him, the back of your neck would bleed.

”I swear to you. From this night on, you’ll burn brightest by my reflection. And only my reflection. So long as there's breath and blood in this body, I’ll protect your sunlight from ever fading in the hands of anyone less deserving than mine. By cosmic fate, you’re my entire purpose, my entire existence...” he bent and kissed the solar marking painted on your forehead. “My orbit.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #league of legends #aphelios x reader #yandere aphelios x reader #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yandere league of legends #reader insert #tw noncon #mdni

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andy-888 · 2 months ago

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I love to think that Jayce and Viktor saw themselves as omnipotent cosmic entities and decided to make most of it and rn they are traveling around time and space like a road trip honeymoon and laughing at whoever climbs Mount Targon along with Aurelion Sol who makes casual appearances bc he loves being mean

#jayvik #jayce talis #viktor arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane #league of legends #aurelion sol

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ioniansunsets · 1 year ago

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Do you do Runeterra versions of the Heartsteel members? If so can I get a scenario of Aphelios stargazing with the reader (Except while Aphelios is the one admiring the stars, the reader is admiring how pretty he looks under them and cant help but flirt with him about it)

✖ Aphelios Moongazing Stargazing with Reader ✖

✖ Word Count: 777

✖ Tags: Established R/S, Aphelios Talks here since he’s not using Noctum (sorry Alune you can sit this one out), Lunari!Reader

✖ A/N: Yes! I love writing their Runeterra OG selves more tbh >< Thanks for asking for this, it was nice giving Lunari Aphelios some love.

✖ Wrote This Listening To: Vanilla Twilight

----

Eyes closed, the Lunari male by your side lets out a breathy sigh before slowly, his eyes open, watching the sky turn and move. His heart a steady beat in his chest as he calms himself down under the moonlight.

The faint twinkle of stars in the clear Targon sky, the chirping of bugs around you, the winds the blow through the trees, they all just help set the otherworldly mood. You two laid down in the empty courtyard of the Lunari temple. It was late into the night, blessedly, a lot of the other Lunari were either asleep or out on missions. So it was just the quiet comfort of you and Aphelios as you looked up in the air. The area around you was dark, Lunari taking care to leave the temple in relative darkness so the moon could truly light the way has left the two of you drenched in the shadows of night. It was a little bubble in the solitude of night that only the two of you resided it.

“ It’s so beautiful.”

“ It is.”

You watch your boyfriend speak and followed his gaze. Tilting up to stare at the twinkling specks of dust in the sky. It truly was beautiful. Hearing your partner’s soft voice, paired with the expansive sky of Targon, the cool winds that once again blowed, perfectly contrasting the warm touch of his shoulders against yours as he laid by your side.

It was rare, hearing him talk, you cherish the moment, taking in the sound of his voice. Aphelios himself not really looking at you but truly admiring the beauty of the night sky above Mount Targon. The moon tonight was but a thin crescent sliver of white in the sky. Dark enough for the two of you two see the stars clearly, yet not so dark that you cannot make out the details of his face in the moonlight.

And by the gods above, were you blessed by having him by your side. His dark inky hair that fell so perfectly to frame his face. His soft lips that parted slightly to let out a small puff of mist into the cold air. The way his long lashes just draw your attention to his eyes, and oh how beautiful those black glittering pools were. The same beautiful night sky reflected in them.

“ Somehow I cannot help but look at you instead. You’re as beautiful as the night sky Aphelios.”

The same eyes you were admiring now abruptly turning to look back at you. His face flushed, you feel him physically warm up beside you. As you smile at him, watching him open his mouth to say something, closing it as he thinks, opening again to try to speak. For someone who rarely gets to talk, you would think he’d have more to say. Instead, he was stumped by your sudden affections. Unsure how to reply. Not like the Lunari really taught him the machinations of love after all. His brows furrow as his head turns to face yours. The way the shadows are cast across his face just make him look all the more ethereally beautiful.

“ Um…Thank you. You look amazing under the moonlight as well.”

You watch him swallow hard, the usual awkwardness he has. Aphelios was always a little reserved around you so hearing him praise you back left a pleasantly tingly feeling in the pit of your stomach. Gently, his hand reaches over to lightly hold your face. In the end, he was more of an actions over words person. Doing what he feel like he should instead of what he should say, the raven haired man shifs a little closer. He lightly presses his lips against yours before pulling back to stare at you again. You stare entranced, the same eyes you were admiring blinking back at you, looking up from your eyes to your lips trying to discern if what he did was acceptable.

After a brief pause as your process what just happened, you too, carefully, tilt your head closer to his, pressing your own chaste kiss to his lips. Smiling awkwardly back at him, the two of your break out in soft laughter. Almost like two teens experiencing love for the first time. His hand reaches out to lightly hold yours, cold fingers interlacing between your own, giving it a comforting squeeze before he turns his attention back towards the night sky.

As you turn to look back up at the expansive universe before you with your hand in his, you can’t help but appreciate that somehow, through this all, you two found each other.

#Anon Answered #Aphelios #Aphelios x Reader #SCENARIO #League of Legends x Reader #Aphelios LoL #Aphelios League #Aphelios League of Legends

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asaarii · 1 year ago

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Hi! I would like to make a request. Aphelios x Fem!Albino!Lunari!Reader. Reader has completely white hair, eyebrows and eyelashes, and red eyes. She absolutely cannot be in the sunlight. She also has not very good eyesight and hearing (which is typical for all albinos). She goes out on assignments mostly at night, when the sun can't harm her skin. Yes, unlike other Lunari, she wears completely white clothes so as not to be noticeable among the snowdrifts. Thank you very much!

Snowfall ft: aphelios reader: fem wc: 1832 IM SO SORRY THISD TOOK SO LONG JUST TO COME OUT MID. also trying out a new style guys pls dont hurt me cheese

If Aphelios was your eyes and ears…

You squint at the figures from your position in the underbrush, hidden beneath the snow-covered leaves with Aphelios at your side. You attempt to lean in closer, but a hand on your chest stops you. Aphelios shakes his head, holding up three fingers as an indication.

The beat of your heart quickens and you’re lucky to have your lover by your side to keep you from doing anything rash. Though unable to speak due to having consumed the noctum poison prior to your expedition, he quickly signs for the two of you to move quickly.

Winters on Mount Targon are cold, almost comparable to that of Freljordian true ice. Harsh and unyielding, it bites at any exposed skin, seeping into the bones of any unsuspecting trespassers.

Over the years you’ve gotten used to the howling blizzards, bundling in all white to match your hair as a form of camouflage in the high snow piles. On the other hand, Aphelios does not match your sentiment for the art of stealth with his brazen blues and purples that stand out against the pure white snow.

Not that he really needed it anyway, he was strong enough to fend for himself, after all.

The snow crunches beneath your shared footfalls, quickly covered by the raging blizzard. If you listened over the howling wind, you might’ve heard Alune’s near-silent whispers, warning her brother of the oncoming danger.

But you don’t, all you see is his head swiveling, eyes widening a fraction before he’s tackling you to the ground, his chest pressed to your back as his hair tickles your cheek. His breath comes out in frosty puffs, chakram held tightly in his grasp as the sound of footsteps of Mount Targon’s intruders grows closer.

From your place on the ground beneath Aphelios, you see the projectile thrown at the two of you lodged deep in the chunk of a tree. It’s only when Aphelios sits up do you see that the spear had grazed his arm, cutting through the thick fabric and marring his skin with an ugly cut.

He doesn’t wince when you prod at the bleeding wound, numbed to the pain by the poison in his veins. Despite his lack of pain, you still quickly wrap his wound, knowing he’ll complain about it later if you don’t. He pulls you close as soon as you’re done, observant eyes squinting at the heavy blizzard and ears focused on the small shifts of movement through the snow.

You stay situated at his side, trusting his senses as you dart your gaze around despite your dulled vision.

So long as you were by his side, you felt safe.

…you were his voice.

Even outside of the effects of the poison, Aphelios was a quiet man. Not many knew the sound of his voice, or even if he spoke at all. Those who did didn’t hear it often.

Other than you, of course.

You spoke on his behalf during general meetings or gatherings of soldiers. He almost always whispered in your ear, making sure to press his lips against the shell of your ear just to make sure you wouldn’t miss a word he said. You would nod, offering input before relaying the message to the rest of the group.

Younger soldiers would peer curiously between the two of you, unused to seeing the stoic super soldier so…content. The older soldiers would laugh lightly, teasing the two of you by asking Aphelios to speak up, garnering a glare and eye-roll from the obsidian-haired male.

A dynamic built upon your shortcomings that flourishes beneath the beauty of the moon itself.

Quite literally, actually, considering that you couldn’t be out in the sun for long periods of time.

Not that he really cared, seeing that he grew up guided by the moon alongside his sister.

Regardless, he’s nothing if not observant.

He sees the way you long for the warmth of the sun, despite being unable to stay under it for long.

So while you sleep during the daylight hours, he sneaks out of your shared residence, venturing to a meadow nearby seemingly untouched by the harsh winter snow.

He brings back flowers, white ones specifically as they remind him of you.

He presses them with guidance from the priestesses back at camp who giggle at his act of affection

“She’s really happy to have someone like you,” they would often say.

And though they couldn’t see the crimson that speckled his cheeks from beneath their eye-coverings, they still hear the near unnoticeable flustered twinge in his voice as he offers a hum of agreement.

Just as sneakily as he snuck out, he sneaks back in, placing your gift nearby before crawling back into bed with you.

He trusts you with his whole life, which means a lot coming from him.

You and Alune had each guided him in your own ways, and he can never express how truly grateful he is to the both of you.

Together, he and his sister were a weapon, a force that knew only of the destruction of any who stood in the path of the Lunari.

But with you, he’s merely a man.

And by the gods, does he love you.

The light of his life.

That’s how he would describe you.

In both appearance and personality, you are his beacon; the brightest star in a hopeless night filled with war and the unending cycle of death.

You, on the other hand, look at Aphelios as though he was the one to hang the moon and stars themselves in the sky.

In spite of his cold demeanor and rather off-putting aloofness, he never treats you less than anyone else, even if you can’t see or hear as well as others who have been trained since birth to hear and see nearly every shift in a general vicinity.

White hair is not an uncommon trait for Lunari, hell, Alune herself bears it, but what really drew Aphelios in was the striking red eyes that widened upon seeing him.

He enjoys staring into them, losing himself in the same color of which he once loathed.

Red had once been his least favorite color.

To him, it represented nothing more than carnage and bloodshed, ranging from the dulled color of blood smeared across the ground after a battle well-fought, all the way to the bright streaks left behind after each practiced swing of his severum. He preferred lighter, more calming blues, as opposed to striking reds. Though, that was simply his opinion.

He was sure that he would keep this opinion till the day he died, finding no positive things to associate with the aforementioned color.

During the rare moments when the poison was still in effect after a battle, Alune would speak to him, asking about how things were going, pointing out small changes in her brother that others had yet to notice, and simply talking to spend as much time as possible to be with him.

When she had caught wind of his least favorite color, she grew curious. Of course, her brother was free to feel however he wished about something as mundane as a color, but this did not relent her subtle teasing.

“You know, brother…” She starts. Aphelios does not like the playful lilt in her voice as he pauses his trek back to base to listen. “Those of other regions often associate the color red with that of love.” He can hear her attempt to negate her laughter through the waning connection and rolls his eyes at his sister's antics. She continues, though her voice is softer now and the ache of battle is beginning to take its toll on him, “Perhaps your disdain for the color is a sign that you’ll never find love.”

Her voice soon fades into a dull ringing, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Love was never a concept he truly ever focused on, too busy with training and defending the Lunari from any outside threats. Though, he recalls Alune watching the older couples during the midst of their training, eyes wide and curious with child-like wonder as they whispered declarations of love before setting off on their respective expeditions. She had always been fond of the concept of romance, being swept off her feet by a force unlike any other. Aphelios, on the other hand, was not a fan of the idea of being caught off guard and left in such a vulnerable position, but Alune had merely rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out as their training resumed.

That being said, he was unsure of how his distaste for a certain color correlates in any way to his love life. Too entrapped with his thoughts, the usually keen soldier fails to notice the figure in front of him.

His eyes widen as he bumps into you, luckily catching you with his scarily quick reflexes. Your gazes meet, and the first thing he can’t help but notice is the color of your eyes. The striking shade of red only highlighted beneath the soft light of the moon. You’re quick to scurry off after a multitude of apologies to the prized soldier of the Lunari, who merely blinks blankly at you in response.

When next he and Alune have time to indulge themselves outside of battle, Alune is quick to learn that maybe, just maybe, red isn’t so bad a color.

BONUS:

Snow drifts down in slow, small clumps, covering the rocky floor of your temporary residence in a fluffy white sheet. Winters on Mount Targon were always blisteringly cold, even more so during the night.

You stick your hand out, allowing a few of the snowflakes to land on your hand before watching them melt. The light of the full moon beckons you forth where the sun doesn’t, pulling you from the confines of your claustrophobic home and out into the world.

The sound of snow crushing beneath careful footfalls draws your attention away from the falling snow, your pure white robes swaying with your sudden jolt of movement. You squint your eyes in an attempt to discern who the perpetrator is through the increasing snowfall before relaxing, tense shoulders slumping in relief.

“Phel,” you greet your lover with a gentle smile when he gets close enough. Snow litters his hair, seemingly dying the inky strands a similar color to that of your own. It’s a silly sight, and you giggle, running a hand through his hair to clear it of snow, even if it starts to regather as soon as you do.

He hums in response, leaning into your touch before placing a soft kiss on your forehead as he pulls you in a hug. You relish in his warmth, and wrap your arms around his waist in turn, nuzzling into the thick fabric of his jacket.

The two of you stay like that for a moment, basking in each other’s presence beneath the moon and snow.

©asarii 2023 — do not copy, steal, repost, or translate any of my works on tumblr or any other site

#league of legends—・❥#league of legends #league of legends x reader #aphelios x reader #aphelios league of legends

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aurelion-solar · 1 year ago

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Targon - Champion Illustration Summoner Icons

#leona #diana #soraka #aurelion sol #pantheon #taric #aphelios #zoe #league of legends #league of legends champion #league of legends summoner icon #summoner icon #mount targon #targon #official #champion illustration summoner icon

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neppyshub · 12 days ago

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No One's Path is Clear

A story taking place after the events of Arcane season 2, in the world of Runeterra! Notes (characters, ships, etc) after the story

Summary: First she was chased out of Shurima. Then she made an escape out of Targon. Saliba has been struggling her whole life, but after her pilgrimage up Mount Targon nothing is the same. She wakes up in Piltover with no friends, no money, no plan, and worst of all: No idea what the hell is happening to her.

See your favorite characters from Arcane, and maybe more from Runeterra, as Saliba struggles to start a new life and find her purpose, as well as handling the mystical powers bestowed to her, and sort out the new companion in her head...

Chapter 1: The undead, the spirits, and the eternal winter

It all began at the base of the mountain.

Mount Targon. It was said to be the grandest peak of all Runeterra, rising so high above the world one could not see the peak. It was spring but I had already climbed so high up, a sharp breeze and bitter cold wrapped around me. The green grass was vibrant, interspersed with the ancient stone pathways and outcroppings of rock. I inhaled deeply and pulled my thick, brown shawl tighter around me. The higher I climbed the colder it would get, until I found snow and eternal winter.

Why the fuck am I doing this? I thought to myself, glued to the ground, heart racing as my brown eyes wandered over every inch of this scene.

I had no better choice. The Solari had always been somewhat suspicious of me, as a refugee from Shurima, even though I took to their teachings quickly and faithfully. Three years spent in Targon, adapting, learning, working, and then I had that run-in with the silver-haired girl. A Lunari. All Solari knew about the Lunari after Diana had murdered the high priests. The cultists we once thought extinct were actually in hiding. They craved vengeance and supremacy over the Solari, and Diana was a terrible beginning. After the High Priests' deaths, we declared a holy war. We would find and exterminate these people, these threats to our very beings, these…

Children. When I saw the girl I knew I couldn’t do it. She wore a white robe, had silvery hair, and was no older than twelve. She trembled with fear and had been completely unarmed. Killing her, they said, would prove my loyalty. It would grant me the right to call myself a true Solari. All my challenges, the looks, the work, and the distrust would vanish if I expunged the world of one small heretic. Of course, I instead told her to run. I stabbed a Solari warrior in the stomach and I escaped as fast as I could, making my way toward the mountain. They would still be tracking me. Three years in Targon did not mean I knew the land better than its residents. I still sometimes found myself lacking breath from the high altitude, my body having developed in the coastal deserts of Shurima, and there would be no escape. Not unless I climbed this mountain and prayed. The Solari wouldn’t dare follow me up. Death was almost assured here, and if not death then madness.

“So what choice do I have…” I whispered. I took one last look over my shoulder and sighed, trudging towards the beginning of the sacred path. The hike so far had been manageable. Simple. From here the real tests would begin. The stories said pilgrims would find challenges of body, mind, and spirit. Icy colds few could survive. Shifting terrain that could make one journey a day and another last for months.

As I climbed Mount Targon I felt myself enjoying it, despite everything I just described. Being alone, in the soft cold, each step a view so few had seen before. The more I progressed the more I fell into a rhythm. I have always been an enduring person. Some called it stubborn. I called it stamina. Starting a job was hard but after five hours? I found a pace. I kept it. And this was no exception. My breathing became an even tune, inhaling and exhaling like a steady machine in a factory. My arms moved automatically, eyes scanning the rocks before me, hands tugging the stone to ensure it was stable, and then I was up another foot. Another meter. Another mile. I hardly noticed how the hours slipped by. Cold sweat beaded my forehead. I shivered when my shawl slipped, praying a strong wind did not take it away, and my hands grew calloused and sore. I climbed on. No spirits attacked me. No monsters appeared. I was in a fog of focus and repetition. I finally pulled myself over onto my first real outcropping, just big enough to lay down on, and collapsed.

Groaning, I tried to stand up and continue. If one stops then one feels fatigue. One is tempted to rest. To give up. To succumb. And there was still far too much mountain to trek before I reached the top. But the bad part of shutting down your mind and being solely focused on the task ahead is you don’t keep track of your physical state. There, laying spread eagle on the cold rock, my careful breathing became desperate pants. The pain in my lungs grew, struggling to suck in enough of this thin air, and my arms trembled from the effort of the climb thus far. When I moved the world began to spin, and my breath hitched as I felt I'd roll right off the precipice.

“Ok…alright…” I panted, letting myself collapse. There was nothing else I could do. Slowly, as my body calmed down, the cold of eternal winter began to seep into my bones. I shivered and sighed, swallowing the taste of iron in my throat. My head lolled to the side, eyes glazing over the strange shape of the rock next to me. The stone and ice here were slender, smooth, curving outwards from the wall. The ice went upwards into a knob, and then another smooth curve of ice. It had the shape of a calf, knee, and thigh. My eyes followed it up to the unmistakable outline of a torso.

I screamed. My heart raced with adrenaline and I groaned and scuttled backward towards the edge. The ice and stone weren’t the shape of a leg. It was a leg, with a frozen corpse attached to it, perfectly preserved. A man, with a beard, a thick jacket, pale skin, and lightless eyes looking out towards the sky. His tears were frozen on his cheeks, as if he died crying, knowing it was his end.

I wasn’t dressed for this pilgrimage. If my own journey was not quick enough then I would share his fate. And I promise you, freezing to death is not a peaceful way to go. Already, my joints grew stiff. My fingers grew numb. Stopping was a mistake.

“Come on…come on!” I growled at myself, arms shaking as I pushed myself to my feet.

My legs swayed unsteadily and I waited, inhaling deeply before moving again. A glance to the right showed me a goat's path curving around this chunk of mountain to the other side. I trudged over and felt my heart crawl into my throat. I could no longer see the ground. Fog covered the grassy fields at the base of the mountain, the sunlight, everything. I grew dizzy with vertigo.

“Nope, nuh uh, shut up,” I said out loud. I took another deep breath through my nose, chest puffing, and shook my head. My curls flew around wildly. I began to breathe faster, and deeper, forcing my heart to race, making myself wake up. “Ah!” I grunted, hitting my chest once. Twice. “Come on!” Another hit, harder, beating the numbness and cold away. “Let’s go! Let’s go!”

Energy surged through my legs. Fake courage. I gritted my teeth and quickly stepped onto the ledge, hugging the mountainside and carefully shifting down the path. One foot at a time, hands desperately gripping onto anything they could find, I began to make my way forward. The ledge circled to the other side of this part of the mountain, opening into a wider and safer route maybe fifty feet away. If I could reach it I would be alright. The wind returned as if sensing my hopefulness and saying: “Oh, you thought this would be easy?”

I groaned angrily and pressed myself fully into the rock, not even daring to lift my feet lest the wind blow me right off the mountain. My boots scraped against the stone as I shimmied my way through, slower but not stopping.

“Scree!”

The sound came from somewhere above me and I didn’t dare look. Another noise joined it; Like large wings buffeting the wind. Few stories from survivors of the pilgrimage were ever shared, but now images of monsters raced through my head, depictions of what other pilgrims had faced.

I finally stopped moving as something double my size slammed into the rock to my left, where I had been standing a moment before. A sheet of ice shattered and fell into the foggy abyss.

“SCREE!” My attacker screeched, the sharp noise making my ears hurt.

This thing was a monstrosity- a clear mix of bird and undead. Before me, staring with glowing blue eyes, was a somewhat humanoid body with grey skin covered in patches of ice, a wrinkly bald head, and rotting teeth. Scraggly wings with rotting feathers sprout from its back. Its hands seemed more like icy claws than fingers, and I could feel the magickal, icy cold from its breath. It screamed again, making me jolt so suddenly I almost fell off. Its throat began to glow blue and its lips began to form ice. Without thinking I reached out and grabbed its neck, right under the chin, and forced it upwards. A glowing blue blast came out of its mouth and the stone above us turned to ice.

“SCR-”

Before it could screech again I yelled I slid my hand to the back of its head and bashed it into the wall with all my strength. Once, twice, three times. Stunned or dead, I grunted and yanked it off the ledge. I watched as it fell into the fog like a rag doll, disappearing. After a few moments, I began to move, frantically, to the end of the path. I could already hear more monstrous wings flapping out of view above me.

“HELP ME!” A voice that was not human begged. It sounded more like a radio was chewing chunks of metal and mixing that sound with the feedback. I felt claws grip my shoulders as it approached me, icy breath numbing my ears.. It spun me around, making me panic as I nearly lost my footing, and slammed my back into the wall. “HELP ME!”

Being at this height, fighting flying undead, tired, and cold was horrifying. Nightmarish. But the worst part? The worst part was how sincere this being sounded. I felt- I knew this had been another pilgrim. Lost to ice and stone, she had somehow turned into this. A monster. And a deeper fear gripped my heart as I realized this could also be my fate. I didn’t want to die. More than that I didn’t want to die like this; Unknown. Hated. Transformed.

I cried out as the claws raked across my chest, shredding and pulling my shawl away. The skin where it touched grew numb, but the ice seemed to seep into the wound, burning. From my periphery, I could see another one of these things circling nearby, about to join.

If there was one good thing about being born in Shurima it's that only the strong survived. I was a warrior before the Solari took me in and trained me as well. I leaned into the beast and gripped its arms as tightly as I could, then walked up the wall and flipped backwards and onto its shoulders. It panicked, its head between my thighs, scratching and reaching for my body but I brought my elbow down on its head. Once. Twice. Three times. The frosty skull cracked and it choked on its pain, blue eyes wide with surprise. As the dying monster began to fall I easily caught the ledge with my hands, dangling in the air and breathing hard.

Just one left.

This one seemed to have learned how bad an idea it was to wrestle with me. It hung in the air just out of reach and opened his mouth, which glowed blue. My eyes widened, knowing I’d be blasted with ice, and I did the last thing I wanted to. Bracing my feet against the stone I then launched myself off and into the air. Ice shards covered the wall where I had been a moment before as I flew to the ghoul and barely grabbed it by the ankles.

It screamed and roared, both of us falling a few feet through the air before it regained balance, and it tried in vain to shake me off. My eyes widened as it flapped harder and zipped upwards, then sideways, and then in a loop. I clamped onto it so hard I could my fingers cramped. The wind was whipping my curls around, blinding me, and whistling through my ears. My stomach churned and I felt bile beginning to rise.

“AAAAAAAAH!” I screamed as it took me for a ride, looking back every few seconds to see if I was gone.

As it began to race towards the mountain, probably to splatter me against it, I reached up and grabbed the back end of one wing, pulling as hard as I could. It screeched in pain and we changed direction, going up. We flew high enough that the mountain next to us disappeared, giving way to a clearing carved into the rock. Large enough for me to land. I grit my teeth and begin to climb up the body until I am properly on its back. I hugged it tightly, pressing its wings against its torso, and it struggled to extend them, desperate to stay in the air, but I would not budge. We hurtled down towards the clearing which didn’t have even a layer of snow to soften the blow. Thankfully, I was on top. As we crashed I could hear the snapping of bones, the squelching of flesh, the gurgling of blood beneath me as my enemy absorbed most of the impact. Then we rolled over each other and pain poured through my body. I could feel my back, my knee, my shoulders hitting the floor hard until we mercifully stopped.

Cursing, I pushed its body aside and stood up. I looked up to the sky, eyes darting for any signs of more icy beasts or zombies. One minute passed. Two. Nothing came. I sighed in relief, Then I laughed. First, it was a dry, wary laugh. Almost like I was tempting fate. Then it bubbled out louder and crazier. My heart was pounding. I ran my hands through my curls, staring at the sky in disbelief. I had survived that. I had fought actual monsters and won. And not only that, I won handily. Maybe I would make it up this mountain after all.

“Well, not there yet,” I spoke quietly, turning around. It was impossible to tell where the peak was. Between the magick of the mountain and the seemingly endless fog that covered where you came from and where you’re going. If I followed my instincts I felt rather close to the end. Riding that thing has saved me so much time.

With a small prayer to the sun, which I wished to see more than anything right now, I trudged through the clearing towards what looked like a stony path upwards. At the very least, I wouldn’t be rock climbing for now. I could hike this section. The wind seemed to die down, it felt less like a god was trying to blow me off the path and more like someone was caressing my cheek with icy fingers. I breathed into my hands, trying to warm myself, and listened to the crunching of the rocks beneath my feet. My ascent was slow as pain bloomed and spread through my body, the bruises and cuts from the fight stinging and throbbing. My left cheek swelled and made it annoying to breathe. For an hour this was my new path. Then two. I began to lose track but it seemed the day had grown darker and shifted into night. It was hard to tell this far up the mountain. The path spiraled upwards, never finished, and grew steeper. And steeper. Until I needed to use my hands just to keep moving. My knees burned and progress was slow. But I progressed. And then I heard it.

Saliba…

The softest of voices seemed to hang in the air. My name was the only thing it said. There was no emotion behind it, no threat and no joy, but my skin crawled anyway. I ignored it, still pushing myself up the mountain.

Sa-li-ba, the voice said again, emphasizing each syllable almost mockingly. Despite my fatigue, I began to move faster. Whatever had taken notice of me was surely another challenge. It was something I did not want to face.

SALIBA!

I yelped as it seemed to yell right in my ear. My foot slipped and I tumbled backward, curling into a ball as I hit the stone hard and began to roll and fall down the path, rocks painfully hitting my body, bruising me and leaving me in even more pain. Somehow, I managed to grab the side of a boulder and regain my footing on the steep path.

“WHAT?!?” I finally yelled back angrily, panting. “Seriously, what?!?”

Anger coursed through my veins. Despite the progress I had made, the odds were still against me. The morale boost from my fight had worn off. What was I doing here? Running from the people who had taken me in, who were so heartless as to kill a child for her beliefs. And that child: Moron. A stupid girl that was surely exploring where she shouldn’t have. It was unfair. I did the right thing and here I was suffering for others' mistakes. It went beyond the Solari and Lunari too, didn’t it? It was the story of my life. And here I was, about to beg for help, and why? The gods were sending test after test. Had I not proven myself? Had I not been strong? If I had just killed that girl-

“Help,” a soft, familiar voice said. No sooner had the thought appeared so had the child, the Lunari from earlier, at the crest of the path. Perhaps twenty feet ahead of me. My blood boiled.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, forgetting the voice, forgetting the pilgrimage, the Solari. My voice came out rougher. Bitter.

“Please, help me,” she begged softly. I narrowed my eyes, watching as silver tears fell down her cheeks. She was wearing a silver hood and shawl, which covered her eyes, and most of her small form.

“I did!” I yelled, pulling myself towards her one step at a time. Rock by rock, ledge by ledge. “I gave up everything to let you live! You aren’t supposed to be here!”

She began to sob at my words, frail hands covering her face. I felt my heart race. My eyes wanted to roll. I wanted to scream. She dare cry? After everything I did, everything I’m doing, she wasted the chance I gave her by coming here. She would die here, and so would I. I would die for nothing.

“You should have gone home,” I growled, finally pulling myself next to her. I looked around, spotting several large stones. My thoughts were racing, one after the other, trying to comprehend this situation. My options. I kept going back to one idea, a way to return to the Solari. I grabbed one of the stones in my right hand, testing its weight.

If she’s going to die anyway, I may as well get my life back, I thought darkly, watching her tremble. I could envision it already. Her warm blood rolling across the ground, her lifeless eyes staring into the sky, and my grand return as I brought her head to the Solari. I could say I did the pilgrimage and my eyes were opened, and then I return with her corpse. A testament to my faith. The Solari would surely accept this. Such a sign could only be seen as loyalty. All I had to do was cave her head in. One quick, decisive blow. It would be so easy. She didn’t even look up at me. Adrenaline, fueled by rage, guided my arm upwards. I stepped forward, eyes wide as I took her in.

Call me a monster, if you’d like. But you don’t understand what it is like to have my mind. To have every thought, good or bad, enlightening or shameful, thoughtful or impulsive, race through your head faster than a bullet. All day, every day. Never resting. Never able to focus. To simply pause and process for a mere moment. And the emotions this constant race of ideas brings. Often, I do feel bad for the things I imagine or consider. I struggle with my anger, my anxiety, my excitement.

But I did not typically bend to it. It has been ingrained into me since childhood that one does not follow impulses, one controls them. I frowned, staring at her, and realized something was wrong. This anger was a instant boil, a fire that began to roar out of nowhere. Since the moment I had betrayed the Solari I hadn’t regretted it for a second. I would never harm someone so young and helpless. So why did I feel this way?

Recognizing the impulse of my body, the unnatural encouragement of my anger, and the logic of the situation I froze. The rock grew colder in my hand, already lifted and ready to strike. How could the girl have made it this far up Mount Targon? Why would she come here? And how did she get here before me? No, this was another challenge. Something or someone was influencing me. Making me furious. This girl wasn’t real. It was impossible. Knowing this, I slowly began to look at the space behind her. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was searching for but to my right, the air seemed to tremble, just barely distorted.

I still felt the urge to kill this girl. To take the easy, vengeful route and bring her body to the Solari. But that wasn’t me. I threw the stone as hard as I could in the direction of that distorted space, my heart jumping as I heard a monstrous gargling of pain. The girl before me began to laugh. A small chuckle at first, nervous and shy, and it grew stronger. Her fingers gripped her face tightly as she cackled insanely. Her fingers spread so I could see her eyes between them. Blue, bloodshot, and looking everywhere.

“Help. Me.” Her voice was raspy and guttural now. She laughed again, stepping closer to me. “Kill. Me.”

“I would never hurt a kid like that,” I whispered, swallowing hard and stepping forward to meet her. “But you’re not the girl.”

“You will die before you’re chosen.” A promise, not a threat. She removed her hood and I blinked, her appearance changing suddenly. It almost felt like she had always been this. In front of me, instead of the girl I saved, stood myself. Brown eyes, olive skin, chocolate curls, and even the way my smile curved to the right. This copy of me still wore the silvery, shimmering robes of a Lunari member or priest.

“A few hours ago I would’ve believed you,” I said quietly, watching as blood began to drip down my clone's forehead. As if I already had bashed its head in with the stone. “But I think my chances are pretty good.”

“You will-”

My clone didn’t get to finish her sentence as I surged forward and grabbed her by the neck. She gagged and choked, trying to make a sound, but I simply squeezed tightly and lifted her so she was tip-toeing. Before she could grab or hit me properly I yelled and spun around, pushing her down the steep path I came from. I felt her grasp my arms, and my sleeves, before rolling downwards painfully. She desperately clawed at the ground and surrounding rocks, her hands getting cut and bleeding severely. Finally, with a resounding Crack! She rolled into a large chunk of rubble and her head bent at an unnatural angle.

I waited a few minutes for her to disappear. For the monster to fade into nothing, or dissolve into dust, or ooze, or light. Nothing happened. The image of seeing myself, neck broken and blood dripping down my face, laying there lifelessly was intense. Vomit forced its way up my throat again and this time I turned away, retching.

“You’re good…you’re good…” I panted, gagging at the flavor and spitting. My legs trembled weakly. “It’s alright…come on…” Another challenge had been passed. That was the important part. I simply had to continue to the top. I turned one more time to look at what could have been. What could still be. I sighed and continued upwards.

As fate would have it, I didn’t have to go much farther.

The path I was on straightened out, going ever upwards, as I walked and the fog finally began to part. For the first time since I started this ascent the space around me was visible. About twenty meters down the path a rooftop of clouds blocked the view of the sky and what followed. I knew, more than I knew myself, that this was the end. Past the thick and unnatural veil of clouds would be the top of the mountain. I fought through my labored breaths, my aching muscles, my fear, and began to run towards it. I tripped and slipped but didn’t slow down, inhaling as I dashed through the clouds and to the other side.

“Holy…shit,” I whispered.

The view was, perhaps, the most beautiful I had ever seen. The path leveled out into a ragged, manmade, route towards the final peak. Wisps of clouds floated around my feet. Ahead of me, the peak itself was thin and icy, a beam of godly light firing from the tip up into the heavens, giving a golden glow to the area, the floor, my skin, and the ice. When I looked up the stars shone brilliantly, more than I had ever seen in my life, and a twisting aurora bathed in the same golden glow danced in the inky black sky. It seemed to beckon me closer. In the distance, I could see the small shape of a moon.

I hadn’t even noticed when I reached the base of the final peak. In a trance, I reached out and pressed my palm to the ice, shivering as the cold seeped into my skin and through my body once more. But this time it was comforting. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, preparing myself to do exactly what I came here for: Beg for help. For mercy.

“Hello, um, everyone,” I said, feeling a bit idiotic. “I’ve come because I have no other choice. The Solari wish me dead. They wish me dead because I spared a child, an innocent. I had no choice but to scale this beautiful mountain and plead with you.”

I waited a minute. Two. There was no answer, verbal or otherwise. I felt no stirring of power or reassurance and saw no shapes of spirits take form. Not even a monster coming out in some sort of final test.

“Please,” I whispered. “I know something is here. I fought the monsters. I killed myself. I threw away my life just to do what I thought was right. My entire life, I’ve tried to care for myself, to do what must be done. To burden no one. Now, I’m finally asking for help.”

Still, there was no answer. No mercy. No pity.

“Please!” I said louder, voice cracking. My heart began to speed up. A pit of anxiety swirled at the bottom of my stomach. “I’ve never really asked for help like this. For intervention. I know you are there. I know you are powerful! I just- I just want to live.”

I was feeling mocked. Everything I had done. Everything I had done it for. Was it my destiny to die? Either up here, on the way back down, or to the Solari who would inevitably capture me? What happened to karma? To receiving what you gave? To the rewards of being a decent person?

“FUCK YOU!” I screamed, baring my teeth. I slammed my fist into the ice. “I’ve done EVERYTHING right!” I hit it again. “I- I deserve something- At least. Notice. Me!” These last three words were punctuated with more punches, which grew stronger, and stronger, causing my knuckles to bleed. But I didn’t care.

I pressed my forehead to the ice and screamed again. A guttural sound that traveled into the night sky. My words failed me as I punched and kicked the peak, slamming into it with everything I had. Tears streamed down my cheeks. I fell to my knees, pulling my hair so tightly my scalp bled. Then I stood up and screamed again, hitting the ice once more.

“Ha…ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!” I began to laugh, realizing how insane I seemed. My trembling smile was followed by a deep breath, and then more laughter. Despair consumed me. It was all for nothing. I fell to my hands and knees and sobbed, the sounds peppered with a giggle every here and there. “Fuck you…” I croaked, to no one in particular. “Gods damn you to hell.”

My whole life has been filled with challenges. In Shurima I was an orphan, left in a village to labor for others just for the right to have water, to lay in the sand at night. As I grew older, I began to scrap and loot the old temples, racing and fighting the other children and rats for the little bit it would get us. I survived into adulthood and, barely twenty, began to travel with mercenaries. I cleaned for them. Cooked. Lugged their treasures until, patiently, I learned to fend for myself. It was only when I insulted the wrong person with my failure that I had to escape to Targon and found safety with the Solari. I adapted to a new culture and religion and made a new life for myself. Until that Lunari girl appeared. I sacrificed my life again for her. I had done all this and more without ever giving in to hopelessness. I always made a plan. I dealt with the challenges, the failures, and the consequences, and I always moved forward. But here, at the top of the world, freezing and bleeding…I felt my fiery hope begin to dissipate.

After all, to die up here, what had my life even meant? What had it all been for?

At this moment, when my hope was all but shattered, I felt a surge of warm travel from the bottom of my spine up towards my neck. I gasped and looked up, trembling as the feeling spread through every vein and nerve. It was not painful but it was tense. I was worried that moving meant I might fall apart. So I stayed as still as possible as the feeling intensified. A golden glow, much like the beam coming off the mountain top, seemed to wash over me. It clouded my vision until I couldn’t see anything but its brilliant light, almost like the opposite of blacking out. And then, as quickly as it came, it left. My eyes rolled and my arms turned to mush as I collapsed onto the ground.

I still felt warm. My mind was slipping into a much-needed sleep. Right before I completely lost consciousness I could have sworn I heard a soft, worried voice.

“Please, keep going,” it whispered as darkness overtook me.

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mmmmmmmmhhhhh · 9 months ago

Text

The stars are watching us

Dark Cosmic Jhin x reader

Notes: it's the first smut I've ever written and english isn't my first language so please bare with me. Sorry if there are many errors. The reader had fem anatomy but the gender isn't specified or anything.

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The air felt warm, your mind dizzy. You don't remember when was the last time you had spent time with him, not like this at least. Being an aspect wasn't all that bad, surely some things could be better, like having more time to yourself instead of having to help others, but the chances that your situation brought you were enough to forget about the bad things. One of them, if not the most important, was Jhin. You met him eons ago now, you saw him getting corrupted by the dark star but nothing could change about how you felt about each other. His change in demeanor wasn't difficult to adapt to, he always had a strange way of thinking, something you loved about him, something that made him so different from the other celestial beings that you befriended over time. Unfortunately, yours and his situation didn't make it easy to be in the other one's presence, a rare occurrence that basically happened everytime you had a bit of free time and could finally be welcomed back in his arms. Now it was one of those times, an even rarer one if we want to call it that: you had just finished helping the lunari near Mount Targon, their fights with the solari only got worse with time and at the moment you were one of the only people available to lend a helping hand. This left you exhausted, your energy spent and the only thing you wanted more was to go back to Jhin, who was probably busy trying to come up with a new "artistic" was to destroy entire planets.

"Hey, too busy to say hello?" You said, chuckling slightly as you approached your lover, his back now turning away from you and making you able to finally see him.

"Your entrance keeps lacking artistry my dear, but I suppose that after all this time I should have gotten used to it" yeah not the most beautiful answer he could say but luckily you knew him enough to read between what could have been taken as an insult and understood that he was still pleased to see you.

"Got anything to do, other than destroying pieces of galaxy I mean?"

"Nothing in particular, the new constellations were finally finished two moons ago and even if they weren't I wouldn't miss an opportunity to spend time with you just to fix stars across the galaxy". It felt nice to know that he still cared about you, not that you doubted him, but it was reassuring to know that he preferred staying with you rather than doing everything else, even the important tasks that he really had to do.

Unfortunately before you could say anything else he decided to speak again:

"You had something on your mind, didn't you?"

"No..." If others could say that you were a good liar he sure wasn't one of those people, after so many years spent together he was able to read you well, probably too well.

"And you are sure about that love?" His question made you look away from his face, a confirmation of his suspicion. While your conversation didn't start long ago you somehow failed to notice the proximity in which you two were in. Feeling one pair of hands grab your waist you put one of your on his mask, his head nuzzling against it while looking at your face, your cheeks heating at the gesture. Another set of hands were now on your hips, his claws digging into the flesh of your thighs while he pulled you up, now face to face with him. Your right hand found purchase on his shoulder while the other moved aside his cloak, exposing his skin to you. Despite living in the vast Cosmo he somehow always had the same body temperature, he felt warm under your touch, almost as if inviting your fingers to started tracing patterns along his chest. The two hands on your waist moved up, now resting just under your breasts, a promise of what was to come if you really wanted it.

"I know what you are trying to do love, I see that your tricks haven't changed" he chuckled while one of his hands went between your legs, gently touching you where you needed him most. His action made you try to close your legs, only to remind yourself that you wrapped them around his middle. A whimper escaped your mouth. Damn it, the only option now was to try to distract him and hope that he didn't hear you...which was kind of difficult considering that you were right next to his ear. In an half hearted attempt you started kissing his collarbone, leaving light marks only visible to you. The fact that his body was slightly transparent, and literally looked like the galaxy that was around you both, should have made it harder for you to notice the bruises that were slowly forming on his skin, it was the opposite actually: over the years you noticed that those places started slowly filling up with little stars, almost making the patch of skin glow. You knew he enjoyed pain so when you noticed that one of the marks you made had a droplet of blood you decided to lap at it with your tongue, only to then suck again on the same spot making him groan. The clawed hands that were grabbing your waist finally decided to do something, now opening the buttons of your shirt and exposing your body to him only to start playing with your right nipple while the other kneaded your other breast. The hand between your legs suddenly stopped moving, making you look up at him to question the choice only to find that he was already expecting that as your response, answering your question by pressing you against the fabric of his pants. The gesture making you whine softly when you felt how hard he was, hoping to finally feel him inside you. Unfortunately for you, your request was left unfulfilled when he decided to move you away from him just the right amount no not feel it under you anymore.

"Please Jhin, seriously it's been too long, I know you want this too so just get on with it" the desperation in your voice was palpable, but the only answer you got was your lover laughing near your ear.

"You really are desperate, aren't you my dear. So tell me, what exactly is that you what me to do mmh?" Even if you couldn't see his expression you could still feel him smirking while saying that. "I just want to feel you, do just that, please..." Maybe you should have specified how you wanted to have him inside you since the next thing he decided to do was pulling your pants down only to press a finger in you, your walls tightening around it, happy to finally feel something even if it wasn't what you originally meant. He started pumping his finger at a steady pace while one of his other hands started rubbing circles on your clit, your hands were now on his shoulder for support even if the two hands that were earlier playing with your breasts were now again on your waist, keeping you where he wanted. After a while he decided that it was probably better to add another finger, with now two of his digits constantly going in and out of your hole you couldn't really keep your voice down, your moans filling his ears while the sound of your wetness constantly being played with filled the space around you. Your head was now dizzy and you didn't notice when he moved back a little, having you basically sit on top of him, only to find out that in this position his fingers could reach deeper inside you, making you whimper.

"Enjoying yourself, aren't you? You really are a canvas worthy of being painted by the most talented hand...luckily for you you will" you were too far gone to understand what he meant, only nodding along with what he said. With no need for his support anymore his hands started undoing the metal belt that kept his pants on, his erection visible from under the fabric, only making you want to touch it more, which you did. Your reward was hearing him hiss your name, words strained because of the feeling. It didn't take long for him to take off his garments, making you able to finally see his cock. It was basically the same color as his body, the tip just a little darker and glistening with a thick bead of precum.

"Well you seem to be enjoying yourself too no?" You almost purred in his ear, putting one of your hands between your legs to gather some wetness, only to start touching him, spreading the mix of fluids on his dick while you played with his tip. "It never ceases to amaze me that it sparkles, you know? I mean I know that they are literally stars but still... it's always so pretty to see" your talk about how much you liked how his cum looked probably didn't help him since you felt him twitch under your hand. At this point you decided that almost torturing your poor lover really was a fun thing to do so instead of keeping your hand there you got up a little, feeling the hands that were playing with you move away enough to allow you to basically sit on with without actually having him inside you. Those same hands now found purchase on your hips, digging their claws in your skin while you started moving slowly, your slit covering his cock with your wetness while your clit sometimes touched his tip, making the both of you moan. While doing this was fun and all that, you noticed that it was probably too much time since you last played with his nipples, now more sensitive than before. You would have continued doing your thing if it wasn't for him to basically stop you, his hands moving you away from his lower half so you couldn't keep on making him feel too much at once.

"I'm sorry love but I think that it's time to change pace, it would become boring if a performance kept the same one for the whole show, wouldn't it now?" Before you could question him you felt his tip at your entrance, thanks to the mess you both made the stretch didn't hurt much but it still left that tingling feeling in you. In one motion the rest of his cock was now buried in you, your walls sucking him in, while the both of you tried to not make too much noise. Your hands went back on his shoulders while two of his went to your hips and one back at playing with your clit. With now only one hand free he found out that the best thing to do to hear your voice was to put his fingers in your mouth, two of them on your tongue while his thumb stayed under your chin, keeping your mouth open and coating his digits with your spit.

"You don't know how beautiful you look right now, it really is unfortunate that such an image cannot be preserved in time" not even after saying the entire phrase he started moving, at first he opted for only pulling out and thrust back in, reaching that one spot that made your vision grow white, but over time he decided to change that, only to start going faster. The hands on your hips guiding your body as he wanted while praise after praise he kept pounding into you. You knew you wouldn't have lasted much longer and he knew it too, deciding to add to the feeling and press down harder on your clit making you moan louder. Your mind felt dizzy, your limbs were going numb and in those last few moments of total consciousness you heard him say something along the lines of painting you just as he said... When you finally came your nails were digging a little too hard in his shoulders. It didn't take long before he finished too, unfortunately or not, inside you, quite literally painting your insides with his cum, only to feel it drip down your hole and unto his things. "You should look down darling, you seem to have forgotten the best part" without even having the time to look down his hand gently grabbed you chin, tilting your head down and making you see what he was referring to.

Evidently too much time passed since the last time you two did this because you totally forgot that his seed was basically glow in the dark, or at least you could see where it was inside of you through your skin. You touched where it was dripping out of you but before you could see it clearly it basically evaporated, making those little star like glitters that made it oh so pretty dance in the air around you and slowly transforming into real little stars.

"I was right, it really is pretty..." You now had a fond smile on your face, deciding to bring your lips to his mask you kissed him gently, hoping to at least now convey how much he meant to you.

"Wanna know something my dear?"

Humming in response you waited for him to continue.

"We probably have to stay like this if you don't want dozens of stars to randomly spawn around us... I think you know what I'm referring to" if it weren't for the fact that at exact moment the only thing in your mind was how much you loved him you would have probably smacked his face. Luckily for him enjoying some more time together was the thing you wanted more at the moment, unfortunately he still had to go back to his "work". It will be fun finding out which excuse he'll use tomorrow when Ashe will ask why he wasn't doing his job and why there were so many new stars floating around the Cosmo.

#jhin x reader #dark cosmic jhin #khada jhin #lol #league of legends #jhin lol #jhin fanfiction

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