#talon and kat asking 'do i look like him

[mercless]

like him relating to talon and kat for similar and also different reasons........ talon honed into marcus' image and dealing with that empty hole in their life now and kat taking after him physically and in the same profession, living life without him in it pretty well after once striving to be just like him and eventually being haunted by everything he did to her.....

she said that I make expressions like him my waist and my posture like him like him like him, like him, like him....

mama, I'm chasin' a ghost I don't know who he is

I'm everything that I've strived to be so do I look like him? do I look like him?

[no-shxme]

I think smth that id like to be talked about more is how jarring it is to go from 'no money' to 'lots of money.' like talon plucked off the streets to a big nice house.. he would be struggling with years of learned circumstance.

like food insecurity yes, but also the inability to ask for things bc he had to be self-sufficient, or not wanting to get rid of clothes until they're literally threadbare. wanting things but not being able to process the fact that he could in fact get said thing legally now. the bed is too soft, the house is too quiet at night, the water is too clean, and talon feels woefully out of place.

I think that's what also pisses me off about his depiction in the kat comic tbh, there's little to no hint of struggle outside of that one dying line (which is good but unspecific) and the conflict at the end with kat, which has comparatively little to do with the past, really, and fails to dig deeper. I would have loved to see a hint of struggle related to him living in the streets bc yes years can pass but that shit sticks with you so bad, even if you don't realize it. i would love it if riot looked at him and actually saw all the depth that was there.

[thepaintedlady00]

Burden

Chapter 14 |

Chapter 15: Forget Me Not

TW: some awkwardness, confusing visions, Daniel makes an appearance, mentions of major character death and spoilers for the comics, a bit of Dark!Munin, The Fates, some intense memories and mentions of violence, pain, and allusions to assault, a bit of trickster god energy (I'm not super familiar with Puck and Loki from the comics, so please don't crucify me if they're not great!), threats, some cryptic shit from Destiny, a pretty big revelation, and finally, some soft fluffy goodness to give our story a happy end before the rewrite.

I really struggled with this last chapter! 😅 I think because I already know I'm going to rewrite it the words just didn't wanna cooperate with me and I'm overall not super thrilled with how it came out. I do really hope y'all still enjoy it and are looking forward to getting the rewrite whenever I have the time to get that going. Thank you all so much for your love, support and patience with this series!

Awkward felt like an inadequate word to describe the stiff silence that now consumed Hector's home. You quietly took a sip of your drink, eyes darting back and forth between the two men as they stared one another down across the living room. You’d quietly hoped that the two would use this time to let go of the strenuous circumstances they’d previously met under.

Hector finally leaned back and spoke, “Make any pregnant women cry today?”

Or not…

Dream’s face tensed slightly, but his voice was steady as he replied, “No.”

“You could’ve given us a minute to say a proper goodbye, you know,” Hector insisted with a sneer. “She had to go through so much all alone… we didn’t even get a chance to talk about baby names. I don’t… I don’t even know how they’re doing.”

This made Morpheus soften, and for a moment, you wondered if he was thinking about his own son, that had been long lost to him. “Daniel. Your son's name is Daniel, and he is doing well. I’ve had my raven check in with them on occasion.”

Your friend smiled and looked out toward the trees. “Daniel. What about Lyta?”

“She’s been more…” Morpheus chose his word carefully. “Restless as of late. A just reaction, I suppose, after learning all she has.”

“Couldn’t you help her with that?” Hector asked. “Isn’t that your job or something?”

“I could, but she does not wish for my help.”

“Sounds like her,” his smile was soft and sad but filled with a restfulness you’d not seen in him for a long while. “Lyta was always the stubborn one between us.”

Morpheus glanced at you, an invisible smirk plain to your eyes. “A struggle I understand too well, spirit.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Are you calling me stubborn?”

“I said no such thing,” he insisted with a wicked gleam in his eyes that answered the question for him.

Turning your head away, you smiled at Hector. “Apologies for bringing up such painful memories. It was not my intent, my friend.”

He shook his head and waved your concern away. “It wasn’t so bad.”

Morpheus allowed the man to show him the home he’d built, taking in details he’d missed the first time in his haste, and, you thought, the two seemed less at odds with one another by the time you departed. Your beloved remained as long as he could, spending time with you to tell the children stories while you held Sirius and got lost in the sound of his silken voice. A loud screech and a string of curses echoed from the wood, bringing you and the Dream Lord to your feet, shielding as many ears as you could reach from the vile things being shouted.

The Corinthian stumbled out of the woods with Kat hot on his heels, talons bared and clawing at him with every swoop. Her feathers were ruffled, and the noises she made were ones you’d never heard before. “Kat!”

She heeded your voice, halting her attack on the nightmare to settle on a branch beside you. The Corinthian shook his clothes off, looking at the deep tear in his suit. “Your beast owes me a new suit!”

Kat’s eyes burned. “The only thing I owe you is a slow and painful death, nightmare.”

“What is the meaning of this?” You demanded as Morpheus distracted the children.

“Is this not the nightmare that betrayed you, my lady?”

“It is,” you answered honestly. “But he has been remade now. He will not hurt me again.”

“Once is more than enough,” She bit back. “This was something you knew once.”

Your eyes narrowed, and you tilted your head at her words. “What do you mean by this?”

Kat shook out her feathers. “Nothing, my lady. If you say the nightmare means no harm, then I shall trust you.”

“Thank you, Kat,” you answered, her words still rattling around your mind, but the golden owl took to the skies before you could question her further. 

The Corinthian bared his teeth at the shredded suit jacket. “Daunty, love the new realm and all, but you gotta get a tighter handle on your greeters.”

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head at him. “Relax. I’m sure your maker would happily repair your suit if you asked nicely.”

He scoffed. “I’d rather live with the tears.”

“Stubborn.”

“Always,” he replied with a grin. “So, you gonna give me the tour, or are you too busy for little nightmares now?”

Linking your arm with his, you smiled at Morpheus, who continued telling the children stories beside the fountain. “I always have time for you, dear Corinthian.”

*

It had been a few days since you’d spoken with Hector, but the sad look in his eyes when he’d mentioned not being able to see his son had stuck with you. You approached the young tree with a gentle touch and kind gaze upon the face carved into the trunk. Hector's son was still quite young, and his tree of memory reflected such. It was smaller than his mother's that stood beside it, but the roots were strong and ran far deeper than any mortal. Daniel, you quickly realized, was special. Different. Like you.

The face seemed to stare back at you, white leaves peeking out from beneath the lush green canopy. You approached slower, urging the roots to lift and open the young one's mind to you. His memories would be few, but there was no doubt much you could learn within them. Veins of white stood out in the darkness. Some roots, the ones that borrowed deeper, were pale and sung with power and immortality. The song of The Endless. But, the tune wasn't Dreams, or Deaths, or Desires. It was its own song, still unfinished.

You walked through the light, lush still forming along the walls of his memory, focusing on the memories he found joyful. You intended to share them with Hector, a gift to show your gratitude for his hard work and kindness. That, however, was not where the tree led you.

Stumbling into the blinking light, you found yourself kneeling in deep sand. Sand scratched your palms, sticking to you like sap, just as it had the first time. Except now that sand, once a deep void of black, was white. It sparked like tiny perfect crystals in your palms as you stood and looked out at the miles of glistening sand and bright cerulean waves.

You knew this beach better than any save its creator. You knew the placement of each stone and the feeling of the sand as it molded to your steps. This place felt different… All at once, the beach you knew and not. It was old and new and entirely confusing.

The fragile ground beneath your feet seemed to remember you as you walked toward where the Gates of Horn and Ivory should have been. The sand didn't swallow your feet or try to slow your steps. It felt as though you were walking on nothing at all. Before your eyes, the entrance stood, an entrance that was not the gates you knew at all.

Glossy white marble caught the light and cast an ethereal glow all around you. An aura of both light and color, beautiful and bright. The gates stood open, revealing a sight you'd grown to know well. "The Dreaming."

As you passed through, you admired the fine craftsmanship of the carvings in the marble gates. A story familiar and also not… Something that had not yet been told. Familiar things were more abundant here as you walked through the town and admired the dreamers. Dreams and Nightmares, old and new, greeted you like a friend and wished you good fortune as you made your way to the palace.

The regal and beautiful palace of The Dream Lord was quite similar to the one you’d known. Only some small changes in the stone and the statues caught your eyes, but as the doors opened to the throne room, a wave of unfamiliarity washed over you at the sight. The white marble of Dream’s palace was pristine in every sense of the word, reflecting the array of light and color that swirled around the room, drawing your gaze to the tiny crystals that hung in the air like drops of frozen rain. It was beautiful, marvelous, but not what you knew to be.

The stairway leading to the throne was wrong as well, far more winding and long, a path of almost transparent crystal. The stained glass windows above the throne shifted to reflect you, a perfect vision of white mist and black dogs and golden leaves. It was as if The Dreaming was trying to welcome you… trying to lull you into a feeling of peace or comfort at all that was not as it should be. And there, in the place of the throne, you knew Morpheus to have was something entirely not his. It looked far more organic, like a split geode holding an uncontainable cosmos of stars and cosmic clouds inside it. And sitting on that throne was a being that was not Dream of The Endless. Not your Dream.

The pale being lifted his head, and not a single strand of his cloudy white hair strayed. His black eyes consumed you entirely, two small slivers of starlight shining brighter as they looked upon you. The robes he wore were white, adorned with golden designs, and there, sitting proudly upon his chest, was a glowing emerald dreamstone.

“It is a great honor to meet you at last, Munin of the Emerald Wood.” His voice was silken and light, Dream’s but not his. 

“You are not my Dream… are you?” You asked with tears building in your eyes.

With a soft sigh, he rose from his throne slowly, almost as if he thought doing so any faster would scare you. “No, I suppose I am not.”

You didn’t dare look away from him as you asked, “Then who are you?”

“The name you would likely know me by is Daniel. Daniel Hall.”

Lies. “Daniel Hall is little more than a child. You could not possibly be him.”

“Not as you know him to be,” he said, slowly descending the winding staircase. “But, as you’ve already noticed, none of this is as it was. A future carved in stone, written in Destiny’s book of things, a future only you can stop.”

“Future?” You questioned, looking around at The Dreaming. “You mean to tell me I’ve stumbled into the future?”

“No,” Daniel replied with a light chuckle. “More of a vision.”

You watched him carefully as he stood before you, hands clasped and a soft, childlike smile on his lips. “So this is what is to come then? You mean to steal this realm from Morpheus?”

His brows furrowed. “I’ve stolen nothing. The Dreaming and the title Dream of the Endless was given to me by he who came before.”

“Morpheus would never just give his realm or his title away,” you insisted. “Unless…”

“He did all he could to stop it, but The Kindly Ones were relentless in their attack. His sacrifice saved The Dreaming and those that remained.” Daniel could see the pain in you, and with a sigh, he added. “He did not suffer. Death greeted him and showed him the way. He was at peace in the end.”

You shook your head, tears rolling down your cheeks. “And what of me? I did nothing while he perished?”

“There were… things complicating your involvement.” He shook his head. “It matters not. You are here now.”

“You’ve been expecting me?”

He smiled, chuckling softly. “No, more… hoping you would find a way here so we could speak.”

“Speak of what?”

"If the love you bare him is even a fraction of the love that lingers in me still…" he lifted a hand to your cheek. "Love he bore for you. Then you'll save him. You’ll ensure this future never has to be.”

With narrow eyes, you asked, “You would give up his power… his title, and his kingdom?”

Daniel nodded. “All I ever wished for was a normal life with my mother. Plots larger than me… Larger than him made that impossible. But you, you could change it.”

“How?”

“Seek out Loki and Puck. The end of your Dream Lord began with their plot and… my mother’s misguided actions.”

Loki and Puck - two tricksters that you’d only met in passing. Gods that were notoriously difficult to track down. “And how do you suggest I find them? They’re not known for making such easy.”

“Visit my mother,” he urged. “And myself, I suppose…” he chuckled again. “The two should be close by.”

You paused, listening to the faint sounds of The Forest calling you home. “What happens if I fail?”

Daniel only smiled, reaching out to lift your hand to his lips. “Then I hope this is not the last time we meet, Lady Munin. And that the next is under better circumstances.”

*

Lyta Hall lived in a modest apartment in a bustling city. Though you’d ventured into the mortal world before, it looked vastly different from what little you could remember. She was surrounded by those she loved, Rose Walker and Ged, and many familiar faces - faces you knew from memories alone. And while the apartment wasn’t large or lavish, she appeared to be happy aside from the large bags that hung beneath her eyes, telling you she’d not found any peace in her dreams.

For a while, you simply watched them, searching for some sigh of Loki and Puck’s coming mischief, but the longer you looked in, the more you felt compelled to venture closer. You wanted to speak with her, to reassure her that her husband was safe and loved. And so you found yourself in her apartment, standing in the kitchen and admiring the little notes, photographs, and memories each held. Lost in your own examining, you barely heard the sharp gasp and the sound of wood scraping against the floor as Lyta hurriedly rose from the table at the sight of you.

Suddenly you were reminded that it was not normal for people to appear in mortal homes simply, and you bashfully bowed your head to her. “Apologies. I did not mean to startle you.”

“Who are you?” She demanded, forcing her voice to sound firm and dangerous.

“We have met before,” you answered softly. “In a dream.”

Her face softened slightly. “You… you’re the one that took Hector.”

Nodding, you answered the question she had not asked. “He is safe. He misses you,” your eyes drifted to the small child in his high chair. “Both of you.”

“What do you want?” She demanded, wiping her eyes. 

“I simply wanted to apologize for my coldness that day. I was… I was not myself.” You sighed. “Were it within my power, I would have let him remain with you.”

“But it isn’t,” she answered bitterly. “It’s his power, isn’t it?”

You realized Morpheus was the he that she spoke so sourly of. “It was out of his power as well. The Dream Lord means you no harm, Lyta. This is why you’ve not slept, isn’t it?”

Lyta looked at Daniel and shook her head. “I don’t want him to come for my son… not while I’m under some spell and can’t defend him.”

“Dream of the Endless would not steal your son,” you said gently. “He means neither of you harm.”

“You don’t know that,” she replied bitterly.

“I do,” you assured her. As you watched her move to the child's side, you felt an odd power humming around her. The song of the Endless echoed from the boy, swirling around her, but beneath his song was power. A power that you knew. Lyta and Daniel froze, time halting as mist rolled in from unseen places, and their power engulfed the apartment.

"You are meddling in dangerous things, lost one." Their combined voices sent a chill up your spine, but not one of fear or anger… A feeling of familiarity.

The Mother tutted softly as she moved around the frozen figure of Lyta Hall. "Fate is not something easily changed, dear sun."

The Crone lifted her head, glaring at the babe in Lyta's arms. "And this fate is one you should not even attempt to alter."

"I won't let you do it," your voice was cold as mist rushed beneath your feet. The Forest bled into this illusion they thrust you in, dark, twisted trees casting long shadows over the three. Black engulfed your fingertips, and you could feel the darkness, the daunting power of it bending to your will. "Morpheus is mine. And none shall have him while I draw breath."

The Maiden tilted her head, eyes shining back at you in admiration. "You always were so determined."

"So headstrong and unafraid," The Mother continued, her eyes bearing a deep sorrow that surprised you.

"It is what led you to your doom the first time." Though The Crone's eyes were stiff, guarded, and unwilling to bend beneath your steady gaze, her voice trembled, lips quivering as she uttered a single word. "Mneme."

All at once the darkness vanished. You felt your power stripped away, leaving you trembling and bare before The Fates. Breathlessly you fell to your knees. Sparks of golden light and a searing, unbearable pain engulfed you until all you could do was scream.

Not a word. Flashes filled your vision, swarming like molten gold in water. A name. Fire blazed, and a burst of sickening laughter echoed in your mind. Your name.

Their hands offered you some comfort, albeit temporary. The Mother smoothed your hair back. "Do not fight it."

The Maiden stroked your cheeks. "Let it come."

The Crone looked down at you with tears in her eyes. Her palm pressed to your forehead. "Remember."

*

The first thing you saw once the blinking light faded from your vision was the orange hues of the sun setting over the ocean. You sat upon the edge of the cliffside, wind combing through your golden locks of hair, and a peaceful feeling settled in your chest. You were home.

"Mneme!" The Fates’ voices called out as one. 

Turning your head, you smiled at them. "Not too close to the edge, I know!"

The Maiden offered you a smile back. "The fall would be terrible indeed, even for one such as you."

The Mother waved, gesturing to you to come to them. "Come down from there, sweet child!"

The Crone rolled her ancient eyes and scoffed. "She won't fall! Our Mneme is far too surefooted to do something as foolish as that."

"Accidents still happen, sister self." The Mother reminded.

You squeezed her hand. "I'll be more careful."

"More careful!" The Crone laughed. "She's been careful since the day she was born, I doubt she's capable or more."

The Maiden lovingly braided a strand of your hair. "There's no harm in having fun every now and then."

The sky above had begun to shift to the deep star-filled night, your favorite. "I have to go."

"Back to that tree of yours?" The Crone asked.

"Back to the humans?" The Mother's question was far more bitter.

You kissed all their cheeks. "I'll be home before the sun rises!"

More light flashed, more voices echoed in your mind as your body felt like it would burst apart. You saw it through the slightly golden haze. The Great Tree standing tall amidst a bustling village. Its trunk was a rich reddish brown with golden leaves glistening in the low light of the fires the humans had lit to illuminate their festivities.

In the blink of an eye, you were in the tall branches, looking down at the bodies that moved below, watching the humans with wonder. You and the tree had been linked from the moment of your birth. A tree with roots that spanned across realms and lifetimes and a little spirit born of fate and memory. 

A rather simple pair when compared to the billions of other supernatural and immortal beings and creatures that existed. But, you were fine with simple. You enjoyed your time spent on Mount Helicon and watching the humans, quietly gifting them with long memories and thus making their marvelous stories last forever.

It had been centuries since you'd heard the lovely tune for the first time. The first song ever made. A simple and beautiful thing that planted a seed deep inside you. A longing for something real… Tangible… Something wholly yours. You had no idea what it would be, this thing, but some nights you could hear The Fates whispering. They must've known. There was little they did not see. So, you waited, hoping that it was something marvelous.

The memories raced by, quicker and more painful than before. You could feel the raw ache in your throat, a result of your screaming, but you could only hear the voices. It was all still fragmented, flashes of a happy life with The Fates that all shifted… The sour smell of decay stung your nose. These flashes were darker, the fragments blurry and hazed. 

You felt fire cracking under your skin, nails clawing at the wrong flesh that caged you. A laugh… A wide and villainous grin letting down at you. Unfamiliar hands touching you… Defiling you… The human's bright beauty slowly diminishing before your very eyes. You could taste the salt of your tears and feel the ache in your knees as you bent to the floor and begged. "Harken to me!" Your voice sounded so broken… Desperate. "Please, I beg of you! Deliver me from this place!"

The gentle hands that touched your head bore a somber tinge that answered the question you did not even ask. "Enough, dear one."

"You should rest," The Maiden said.

"You will need it for what is to come," The Crone finished.

"Help me," you begged them, lifting your drowning eyes. "There must be something you can do… Someone to intercede on my behalf."

The Crone's eyes turned cold as she sighed. "Foolish child. You are awfully bound. There are none that can deliver you from this place."

The Mother's eyes were filled with tears. "Not now, at least…"

The Maiden braided a strand of your dull hair. "Not when so much of you has been spent."

"I am so sorry, dear one…" The Mother pressed a kiss to your head. "Your prayers were wasted."

"No!" You cried out, rising to reach for them, but they were already gone. The chain binding you to this place scratched against the stone floor. "Do not leave me…"

The pieces fragmented further. Shattering like glass when you tried to hold onto them. All you could truly recall was a knife, blood, screaming, and fire. Darkness that felt warm and safer than what you'd known for so long and then breathlessness. You could see a rippling surface, bubbles floating away from you as the air abandoned you. 

As you sank deeper into an unknown abyss, you could see the golden strands of your hair fade to white, and a voice echoed in your mind as all else began to fade away. "You will never be rid of me!"

*

"Mneme," The Maiden's voice called out to you.

"Stop," you begged, voice raw and hardly understandable. This wasn't true… This was a trick. All of it. Their hands, cradling your head, felt too heavy. "Don't call me that."

“Mneme…” The Mother cooed softly as you shook their hands off you.

“Do not call me that! I… I cannot deal with this now. I… There’s…” You wanted nothing more than to sob, to let the information you’d just regained swallow you whole. 

Morpheus needed you. The events Daniel spoke of could still be years away, but you’d not risk it. Especially not now. Forcing your body upright, you looked into the eyes of The Fates. “I am going to change what is written. Morpheus will not perish, least of all at the hands of you.”

The Maiden’s tears were like diamonds upon her cheeks. “We take no pleasure in this.”

Your sound of disbelief caused The Mother to sigh, “Not much pleasure in it.”

“You cannot change this,” The Crone said, cold as ice once again. “Try as you might, what is will be and what will be is.”

“The only one you shall harm is yourself,” The Maiden replied.

"You will spend your power," The Mother warmed. "Spread yourself thin until all you are withers."

"Lost again to Lethe," The Crone finished.

“If anything happens to him… anything at all, it is you that I shall harm. Consequences be damned.”

You didn’t give them the chance to speak again, vanishing from the apartment and from their presence with a mere thought. The world felt both heavier and lighter, and with it, you felt both more powerful and less. Forcing the memories… the past from your mind, you put your plan into motion. It was just as you’d told The Fates. None would have Morpheus.

The meadow was quiet. From what you’d seen of the human world, there were few places like this that remained. Calm and untouched, reeking of old fairy magic and buzzing with godly power. Two tricksters lurking in the shadows. The combination of their power was dizzying and stunk of mischief. A warning to any that drew too near to turn back and hope you’d not caught their eye. You, however, would not be so easily deterred.

“What have we here?” An old and giggly voice purred from the shadows.

“A little witch?” Another chimed in, smug and prideful and filled with echoing laughter.

You showed no emotion as you addressed them. “I am Munin, Queen of realms of memory.”

A figure appeared a greenish beast with scales and fur and long pointed ears. Sharp teeth gleamed back at you as the deep red eyes of the spirit Puck glowed. “Queeny, Queeny, Queeny… why are you so far from your castle?”

Bright hair and an angular face examined you closely from a safe distance away as Loki grinned back. “Come to play with the old tricksters, have you?”

“More like come to talk sense into you,” you replied calmly, urging the wood around you to slowly shift.

The two laughed loudly, clutching their guts as they looked at each other. “Sense? Oh, we’ve not had sense in ages!”

“So I’ve been told. But, kidnapping a dream-touched child is a new sort of stupidity I thought even you two would be above.”

“Careful now,” Puck growled. “I’d surely hate to have to get blood all over that pretty white dress, Queeny.”

“It would be quite the shame,” you agreed. “Though the dress could be a trophy of sorts stained with your blood.”

Puck giggled, deranged and gleeful. “I like you!”

“Focus,” Loki insisted as he languidly stalked forward to circle you. “What’s this about a kidnapping?”

You followed him for a moment but chose to keep your eyes on Puck; he was the one you’d have to be most mindful of. “Your little plan to kidnap the boy… Daniel Hall.”

“How would you know about that?” Puck questioned.

“I have my ways.” That was the only answer you offered them. “The how is hardly the point. I’m far more interested in skipping it all together so we can focus on the bit where you both use your brains and forget about this half-baked scheme.”

Mist slowly began to seep between the trees, a low groan echoing in the air that signaled your plan had worked. Loki shook his head. “We aren’t exactly known for listening to threats from little girls.”

You smiled. “I’ve not even threatened you yet, Odinson.”

“Do not call me that!” He hissed, pointing a long elegant finger at you.

“I’ll call you whatever name you see fit after you’ve agreed to leave Daniel and his mother alone.”

Puck tutted, clawed nails digging into the branch he leaned on. “Greedy, greedy. You’re getting boring, Queeny! Perhaps we should just be done with you… After all, you look so tasty!”

Sirius dove out of the mist and snapped at the spirit. “Mind your tongue, beast. Though I shall gladly rid you of it should you insist.”

Loki pulled two daggers from their sheathes as The Corinthian appeared somewhere off to the side of you, calm and collected as he casually leaned against a tree. “Naughty puppy!”

Rolling your eyes, you lifted a finger, calling forth the tree roots to bind them. “Enough of this.” The trees wound around their limbs, squeezing hard enough that were they not immortal beings, their limbs would have snapped. Loki sneered while Puck laughed. “It’d be in your best interests to leave the child alone.”

“Best interests,” Puck laughed harder. “I care little for interests.”

“You may not care,” you began, eyes turning to the god. “But he does.”

Loki shook his head, chuckling at the notion that he cared about anything at all. “You think you know me, little wood witch?”

You shook your head and walked along the tree roots. “I do not care to know you, trickster. But, I see more than just your eyes…” Memories swirled inside them, good and bad, joyful and not. “We may not have met more than in passing, but make no mistake, Loki, I know you.”

Puck was the wildcard, the mischievous being that none could reason with or bribe unless he so sought, but Loki was a god. He was shrouded in golden pride and a deep-rooted desire to make Odin love him. Loki was the one you needed to convince. Puck would follow, or he would die, a choice you’d not have to spell out for him, especially with Sirius’ watchful eye and menacing teeth gnashing in the sprite's face.

“Why do you care so much for this runt?” Loki pondered with a wide grin. “Have a soft spot for dream-touched mortals?”

“Why does not concern you.” You sat down on a high-up branch and stared the god down. “No more questions, Loki. Will you leave Lyta and her son alone, or will you die here in my little woods?”

He attempted to shrug against the branches that held him. “It’s not me you need to worry about.”

Puck rolled his eyes. “She doesn’t need to fear me! This game has gotten boooorrrriiinnggg! One little mortal, dream-touched or not, isn’t worth this kind of fuss.”

Loki glared at the sprite, clearly displeased by his so-called partner in crime's words. “Fine then. We’ll leave the kid alone. Happy now?”

“Swear it.”

“I swear it,” he sneered back. “Now let me go.”

You waved your hand, and the roots released. Puck was gone in a blink, no promises made or extra words exchanged. Here then gone, just like you’d expected from the trickster. Loki remained, anger and some ugly, wounded pride shining in his eyes as he glared at you. Sirius growled. “Leave this place, trickster. And pray you never return.”

Suddenly all emotion drained from the god's face, and he laughed. “You know, I don’t much like being humiliated, especially not by insignificant little girls. Do you think you're suddenly untouchable just because you have some new realm and a bit of power? Well, you aren’t.”

Lunging for you, Loki found himself face to face with The Corinthian, who smiled as he brandished his blade. “I believe my lady released you. That means you leave.”

“I’m not scared of you, nightmare!” The god shouted.

“You should be. Hold him down for me, pup.” Sirius surprisingly heeded the nightmares command and pulled the god down while The Corinthian worked with his blade. The screams were drowned out by the trees cheering and laughing at the now mutilated god. You stood high above it all as The Corinthian finished his work and turned, presenting you with the eyes he’d plucked from Loki’s skull. Bowing his head, he chuckled. “Any other body parts I should take, my lady?”

You accepted the eyes and shook your head. “No. Kat has already sent word to Odin. Someone will be here to collect him shortly.”

The Corinthian glanced at you. “You alright, Daunty?”

Your mind was plagued with the past that you’d still not fully regained, a thing you now had broken and confusing fragments of. “Yes. There’s just something I need to do now.”

“Need a nightmare?”

Smiling at him, you shook your head and placed a loving hand on his cheek. “Not this time, dear Corinthian.”

*

Upon Mount Helicon, a secluded cabin stood overlooking the sea. The cabin was not what you’d pictured when you thought of The Fates. You’d imagined they’d live in some large palace or a winding maze, like Destiny, but there the three stood, looking out at the sea as you quietly approached. “Such a lovely sunset.”

The Mother smiled at you. “It used to be your favorite part of the day.”

The Maiden laughed softly. “You’d sit here until the yellow faded from the sky entirely.”

“One sun,” The Crone said. “Watching another.”

"Whatever the reason for this… Fondness, you bear me…" you stopped yourself, pain that you could not yet confront boiling within you like the fires in your vision. Shaking your head, you met their gaze again. "I urge you to cease these schemes against the Dream Lord."

The Maiden nodded, "Painful as this may be, you cannot run from the truth forever."

The Mother took a step closer with a sad smile. "Oh, dear one… Is this truly your wish?"

"It is."

The Crone stood before you, cold eyes slightly less so as she wiped your tears. "Very well. If it is your wish, we shall honor it. So long as Dream of The Endless does not bring harm upon you, then we shall not harm him or his Dreaming."

“Thank you… my mothers.”

The Three smiled sadly and watched you go. The Forest greeted you as it always had, offering you soft handing leaves to dry your eyes and a melodic rumbling to ease the ache in your heart. You did not know when you would be able to accept what you now knew fully, nor did you know if you’d ever be strong enough to remember the full brunt of the pain your past life had lived through, but you did know that The Fates had spoken at least one truth. You would not be able to run from it.

A dark figure emerged from the trees, breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of you. “There you are.”

“Morpheus,” you breathed, the pain easing as air filled your lungs.

His eyes narrowed as he took a step toward you. “Where have you been?” His arms wound around you, pulling you into the embrace you’d fought so hard to preserve. You buried your face into his chest and breathed in his scent. “I’ve been worried.”

With a soft noise, you smiled. “Forgive me, I did not mean to worry you. There were some things I needed to take care of.”

“Is all well?” His breath hitched at the mere thought of something being wrong. 

You smoothed your hands down his chest and smiled. “All is well. I… I learned many things these past few days and have many questions that need answering.”

Morpheus nodded, soft hands caressing you. “I trust you will tell me your meaning when you are ready to?”

“Of course,” you answered. “It would be rather cruel of me to keep you in such suspense.”

“Cruel is not a word I’d use to describe you, my love.”

You wanted nothing more than to tell him of all you’d learned and everything that had happened in your time apart, but instead, you simply smiled. “Would you walk with me?”

He seemed to understand the gentle gleam of tears in your eyes and quietly offered you his arm and a kiss upon your head. “Always, my love.”

The two of you walked through the misty forest until you found the cave of crystals and the lake that you’d once danced upon. Without needing to speak any words, he stepped out onto the water and swept you away into a starlit dance. With your head laid against his chest, listening… feeling the steady beating of his heart, you finally spoke, “Do you think we will remain together in whatever existence comes after this?”

“I should think so,” he answered with a soft laugh. “We’ve found one another against impossible odds thus far.”

"Well, if it should come to an end, this immortal coil we find ourselves in..." You pulled away from his chest and gently held his face in your hands. "I should like it to end by your side, that we might turn to stardust together or be bound in the roots of the earth as one. I shall not pass to whatever existence awaits us in The Sunless Lands without you, my dearest Morpheus."

With the software of smiles, he pulled a small thing from his cloak and held it between you. A ring. The stone in the center was an ethereal array of thinking stars with a branch-like band of roots twining around it. He lifted your hand to slide the ring on your finger, kissing it and whispering a soft oath, "I vow that no matter what comes, nothing shall ever part us again. I am yours, Lady of The Forest, Distress, Discourage, Daunt… Munin. In every existence, every realm and lifetime, I am yours."

"Just as I am yours, Prince of Stories. Always."

Beneath the starry skies and amidst the groaning echoes of your realm, you and the Dream Lord shared a kiss, soft and bright and beautiful. For that one moment, the past didn’t matter. Not Daunt or Mneme… you were Munin, and you were here. You were loved. And as you stared into the eyes of your lover, you knew you always would be.

[shipandrunforit]

Katarina comic rant despite the comic coming out a while ago.

I’m just going to come out and say that I have *very* mixed feelings on the Katarina comic, on one hand the art looks really at times and I love how it fleshed Katarina out to be this person who loves Noxus and can be very cruel at times bc of her job but can also show mercy in some ways such as how she allowed the general (I think it was a general) she was sent to kill the opportunity to fight her because he had served Noxus well for years or how she helped Lux escape because she saw Lux fight for her life.

It’s a really nice thing to add to her character yet doesn’t feel out of character. Overall I think it did really good stuff for her character and shows where she is in the current lore, working for Swain as his top assassin.

WHAT I DONT LIKE-is how it massacred Talons character by not only making his lore redundant but also just what they did to him as a character.

Like, the entire point of Talons character since the very beginning, and I mean the very beginning, like back to the old lore journals of Justice beginning, Talons entire mission was to find his father. And in the comic, not only has Talon know where this man was the entire time, but he was also helping him because he wanted to be the heir to the house. Not only does this choice, make his entire goal redundant but it’s also completely out of character. Talon has never given a shit about being the heir to the family house or having any sort of power for that matter, he’s only ever cared about killing and achieving “the edge” while doing so. Plus, him knowing brings up the question as to what he and Marcus have been doing for the past three years? We can assume Marcus vanished in the first place because of Le Blanc nabbing him so she can manipulate, or whatever it was she was doing, Marcus into killing Swain and thinking he was a threat to Noxus, but how long was that? If it wasn’t a long time then why did he break so easily? Is Le Blanc just that good, or something or did he not like Swain that much in the first place? This just brings up more questions.

Like don’t get me wrong I’m not against talon working with his father and finding him again but they could have done that so much cooler. They could have had Marcus come to talon a few months prior to this and tell him that he needs *his* help because he is the best assassin he knows, the only person he can trust to help him take down Swain and talon agrees bc the only person he is shown to be loyal to, the one who saved his life and trained him since he was a child is asking for his help because he believes in his abilities. But no, instead we have Talon knowing his dad is alive before hand and helping out because he wants *power* for some dumb reason, Nevermind the fact that this boy doesn’t like people at all and, again, has never given a shit about power or the social manipulation that goes along with being an aristocrat in Noxus.

So yea, blatant character assassinations aside, because that wasn’t enough, they know have it to where at this point in the lore, so like currently in lol, Talon is in Sharima for some reason!?? Like, no. I know they tried to say he’s there healing but like, no. This boy lived on the streets, his family is full of assassins, surely he has some other place to live inside the city or in the country side he can lay low at. There’s no reason for him to be in another fucking continent to heal. Also Kat didn’t even hit him that hard, they had him crying in the corner over a scar over his eye, despite the fact that he did the same thing to Kat when they were children, and she walked her ass home and went on to murder people.

Talon is just as good as an assassin as she is, why is he not getting up to stop Katarina? Like I get they needed him out of the fight but still, have him lose his goddam eye, have kat throw him out he window and talk about how if she fails at least their father won’t be able to take it out on Talon with tears in her eyes. Have talon actually be down for the fight and unable to fight, don’t make him a goddam crybaby because he got stabbed got a scar over his eye (WHICH HE CAN STILL SEE OUT OF BTW). Like, again I’m not opposed to this happening, I’m not opposed to these two fighting it out and Kat having to basically maim her own brother whom she loves to death and is the only family she has in order to protect her country. I’m not opposed to that, that’s a really interesting position to put her in because they established that she loves both, the she cares for her family but now has to kill possible both her father and brother to protect Noxus. Thats awesome. Just don’t make talon a fucking wuss to do it and then ship him off to another country to “heal up”.

So yea, art wise I think this comic is really cool, talon looks nice despite his changing eye colors and I do wish Kat looked a bit older. I don’t really like the roundness to her face, I wish she had slightly sharper features like she has in her icon. But she looks nice and the backgrounds are wonderful. Not only that but I love what they did for Katarina as a character. I just can’t get over how dirty it did talon. Like, why? Just why.

[bilgisticallykosher]

Devil On His Shoulders And Lesser Demons All Over The Place; AKA Well, There Goes The Metasphere

As a note, I actually don't believe that Mandy is that angsty. The rumors of her sadism have been greatly exaggerated. As another note, I'd just like to apologize to everyone. Inspired by Devil On My Shoulder by Lime. Or the shortened version, DOMS. Which is ridiculous; clearly Mandy is the only dom here.

Words: Just under 2000

Lime sighed, careful not to cause too much movement to his little "shoulder devil" as he secretly liked to think of her. Mandy was great, and the scenarios were fun to think about, but he could never actually write them. He loved his characters too much to ever hurt them permanently. And yet…

Well, at any rate, he was still out of ideas. And this little (heh) theoretical session hadn't helped any. Maybe he'd have to start from scratch after all. The curtains fluttered in the windless atmosphere, and a bright light flickered from beyond them. Lime squinted. What in the heck? 

"...and since he doesn't know about the others living in his house, he doesn't get them out from the flooding!" Mandy concluded her dreary thought. She looked up and blinked. "Hey, what's that-" She cut herself off with a soundless noise that might have very well been a curse, as a fire bird flew in out of nowhere, and landed lightly on Lime's other shoulder. 

He flinched, but it turned out to not be hot, just pleasantly warm. 

"Um, hi?" He greeted, bewildered. 

"I know I'm not exactly one to talk," the phoenix began, definitely actually talking, "but I think you can do a little better than Miss Not-So-Infinitesimally Angsty." Mandy gasped. 

"How dare?!" The phoenix, who Lime now realized was Phoenix, rolled their eyes. 

"I'm just saying, there's maybe an imbalance there on hurt/comfort you know?" They had a point. 

"Hey, I know how to do comfort!" Mandy huffed. "I get plenty of comfort from readers screaming in the comments." Lime groaned. Phoenix, being one of her screaming readers, slapped their face with their hand- er, wing. 

"Alright, I think I need some backup," they said, muffled through their feathers. They dropped their wing and sent out a fire symbol. Lime couldn't quite see what it was, or if they used their mouth like a dragon, or if it was a feather or something. Pretty awesome, though. 

And suddenly there was a purple butterfly hovering in front of him. At least this newcomer wasn't too hard to figure out. 

"Nyn?"

"I hear you're having trouble with some plot ideas?" She seemed excited and willing to help, something Lime was very grateful for. 

"Yes, thank you so much, I can't seem to get away from the really awful permanent death ones." Lime stared obviously at Mandy, who just shrugged nonchalantly, spinning her magic pen around. 

"Ah. Yes. Well, I've got the perfect solution!" Her voice was so sweet-sounding, it was like music to his ears. Phoenix nodded their head. 

"Yes?" Lime listened raptly. 

"Kill 'em anyways." He froze. Surely, he must have misheard. 

"Wh-" he floundered for coherent English. "What?" 

"If you wanna kill them, kill them!" There was a snort from his shoulder.

"But your stories are usually so cute! And fluffy!"

"Usually,” she emphasized. "Unless Mandy picks the wrong number." Lime turned to Mandy, horrified. 

"Whoops," she deadpanned. 

"I wrote a fic about the werewolf getting a kitten," Phoenix said reproachfully.

Then he got distracted by a voice at his feet. 

"Heya!"

"Aah!"

"Woah!"

"Geez, now I know how Virgil felt," the voice joked. Lime looked down. It looked like...a box? With little cat features? That was adorable, but admittedly very confusing. He had to contain himself from petting. His talons twitched. 

No! Big, scary dragon! Rawr! He wouldn't cave to some weird kitty box! 

… Who was he kidding? He'd be cuddling it within the hour. 

Mandy squinted, staring down at the creature. She steadied herself on Lime's shoulder before sliding down his arm. He grumbled something about safety that went unheeded. 

"Kat?" She asked, tilting her head. "Is that you?" The box- Kat, apparently- nodded. 

"Yep. I'm here to help out!" Mandy squinted. 

"Why the heck do you look like that?"

"Well, like my username. You know," she sighed, Callboxkat? Box Kat? Box cat? Yeah."

"Wait, isn't it supposed to be a callbox? As in a telephone booth?"

"Yeah, but the author doesn't watch Doctor Who." Kat watched Nyn fluttering back and forth, repressing her newfound cat urges. 

"Wait. I thought we were the authors?" Phoenix furrowed their eyebrows. 

"Listen, this is already so meta, does it really matter?" Kat raised an eyebrow. 

"Fair point." Mandy jerked her thumb back in Lime's direction over her shoulder. "So, do you have any suggestions?"

"Do I?!"

"Do you?" Lime echoed back at her.

"So I was thinking," she box-stepped over to one of the lower-set universe basins, "you take some of your tiny characters,"

"Yeah…" He considered the few universes where he had borrowers.

"Then you slap a tail on them, and have them almost drown!" She concluded triumphantly, lithely swaying her own tail at the mention of them. 

"Almost drown them?" Lime asked warily.

“Almost drown them?" Mandy asked with a gleam in her eye. 

"Okay, that's it." A new voice called out. Lime thought he recognized it, turning his head to confirm. Yep, there Allison was, dressed in her own witch outfit of purple and teal. "You," she pointed at Mandy with her magic quill "have had enough angst for the day. You're being cut off."

"No!" Mandy pouted, readying her puppy dog eyes. 

"Yes," Allison crossed her arms triumphantly. 

"Um, not to encourage her," Phoenix spoke up, turning to face her, "but haven't you been just as guilty of angst recently?" 

"What do you mean?" Allison frowned, confused. 

"Yeah!" Kat turned to her, "all those Perspectives lately have been pretty heavy and angst-laden."

"Wh- hey, first of all, recently is subjective, we wrote those a while ago. And we've had a lot of fluff in there, too!" Lime considered this. 

"Vampire Perspective, Pet Perspective…" he listed off. 

"Mandy's been choosing the wrong numbers," Nyn nodded. 

"And! And Lilliputian, Freezing, those were also recent-ish!"

"Face it," Mandy suddenly appeared next to Allison, leaning her arm on her friend, "we're in the same boat now." She flopped over dramatically into her arms. "I've corrupted you."

"Noooo…"

"Hey, Allison, what's that building on your hat, by the way?" Phoenix asked. She sighed, and threw a photo version their way. 

"Arc."

"Oh my god." There were snickers around. Mandy was still draped over Allison, shaking her head at the truly awful pun. 

"PSSSST!" Everyone turned around. There, as if summoned by the bad humor, was a stick figure, looking shifty-eyed, and unmistakably Lefay. She was wearing a trenchcoat, and hat. Of course, the hat wasn't the typical hat associated with a trenchcoat. It was, instead, an umbrella-hat.

"Um," a new voice came in before they could address that. They turned back, seeing a small snail with a dorsal fin on his back. Fin. Lime was starting to see a terrible, terrible pattern here. "I was also invited, but, I don't know, maybe I should leave? You guys are all so cool, I think I probably don't belong here."

"Fin, please!" Everyone chorused together. 

"Alright, alright!" He acquiesced, really taking in the room. "Hey, I guess not everyone's cool, you're looking pretty hot, Phoenix!" He made finger guns at them somehow, and they laughed at his antics. Lime smiled, before remembering the previous interruption. 

"Hey, Lefay," Lime started, slowly, turning back to her, "why's there an umbrella on your head?"

"The costume store was out of trench hats-"

"There's no way that's what they're called," Allison balked. 

"-so I decided to go with the rain theme. And I got this instead!" She patted the umbrella headband happily before tensing, and crouching inward, voice lowering to what was definitely not how she spoke a second ago. "Pssst. Hey, hey kid. C'mere. I hears ya need some help with your woiks."

Lime took a moment to mentally translate this. He was uncertain, but he did need help with his works. He twisted his long, scaly neck over to where she stood. 

"Yeah, alright."

She opened her trench coat wide, causing a flinch or two throughout the group, to reveal what was lined on the inside. Lime could identify a turnip, a rutabaga, celeriac, a parsnip, a yam, taro, a daikon, and jicama. "Um…" Lime was confused. "What-"

"Oh my god" Kat put her paws over her face. 

"Did youse need help wit' some titles?" Lefay waggled her eyebrows. There was absolute silence, aside from some traitorous snickering from some of the others. 

"..............No," Lime decided on as his response. "Titles I can figure out later, but I just need some story ideas to title in the first place." 

"Oh, why didn't you say so!" She responded in her normal voice. "I can totally help with that!" Lime brightened. Lefay smiled back, and then promptly fell to the floor, pillow under her head, asleep. 

Lime flinched back, and turned back to the rest of the room, slumping his head in his hands. 

"This is never going to work," he lamented. "I'll never get a new idea like this!"

"Well," Nyn cut in, "maybe that's your answer." Lime slowly lifted his head, squinting in confusion. "I mean, if you're not coming up with ideas this way, maybe this way isn't the way to go about it?"

"Right," Allison agreed, as Mandy un-flopped from her. "Just because this works for some people, or even if it's worked for you before, doesn't mean you have to use this method."

"Inspiration comes differently for everyone." Kat piped in, tail swishing in excitement. "You shouldn't feel pressured to choose one specific way and stick to it." 

"And if you're forcing yourself to come up with ideas, doesn't that negate why you're writing in the first place?" Phoenix added. 

"Heck yeah!" Fin shouted. "Writing fanfic is supposed to be fun!" Mandy gently put a hand on his arm. 

"You shouldn't feel pressured at all. If you can't think of something to write, you don't have to." Lime looked up at her, she smiled gently down at him. "You're allowed to not write. You're allowed to take a break. You're allowed to put yourself first." Lime sniffed out a laugh, before looking at all the smiling, encouraging faces of his friends and fellow fanders. 

"Okay, I give. You guys are right." He stood up on all fours, nails clacking against the wood floor. "Now let's get out of this…" he looked around again, frowning. "Wait, where are we?"

"Looks like a stage of some sort?" Kat voiced, uncertainly. A voice sounded from all around them. 

"I'm a theater, sweetheart." Brook responded. There was a rimshot.

"You know, it's things like this that make me really glad that I picked my authorsona myself." Lime deadpanned. Allison and Mandy nodded. 

Over in the corner, a shovel fell over onto a sketchpad in agreement. 

"Yeah, I don't know who's doing this," Mandy spoke a little too nonchalantly, "but these are really, really bad. Like, objectively terrible. I mean just completely awful. As if whoever did it started with zero sense of humor, and then got worse." Hey, watch it, witchy, I’m in control of this story. "And I'm in control of a lot more stories, I can make angst like you wouldn't believe," she cheerfully stated, appropriate of nothing, according to the others' perspectives. 

…I surrender. 

Mandy smirked, satisfied, before bounding over to Lime's back. "So, wanna give us a ride back?"

"Sure," Lime offered his hands out, palms flat for everyone (except for those with wings) to climb on. When everyone had settled, he spread his wings, and took flight. As he faded into the horizon, he mumbled to himself, "Maybe I'll write something with Virgil…"

About a minute after he left, Lefay jolted awake. 

"Alright! I've got like six more plausible ideas for AUs, there's this one where-" Lefay paused, looking around. She seemed distressed for a moment, before continuing. "-but I never figured out what happened with the incident with the noodles. TIME FOR MORE RESEARCH!" She pointed dramatically up to the sky, before immediately flopping back into sleep. 

BONUS!

There was a ringing sound. Every set of eyes snapped to the source. 

"Are you ringing from your body?” Allison asked Kat incredulously. 

"I've got a phone in the box," Kat blushed, fishing it out.

"Getting a call, box-Kat?" Mandy grinned wickedly. Kat barked at her. Mandy frowned. 

"Why-"

"I love dogs," she shrugged. 

@callboxkat @delimeful @hiddendreamer67 @theatresweetheart @lefaystrent @infinimay @enby-phoenix @arc852 @justanotherpurplebutterfly @eatingashovel (not by name but you make an appearance)

[wantonlywindswept]

nielan mermay shenanigans 4

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

i would like to say that this is the end but tbh there will likely be at least a follow-up, i keep trying to finish this story and it keeps going, very rude, very mean

don’t ask how many spelling errors i made writing this, that is between me and god and my sleep-deprived brain, which for all intents and purposes supersedes god anyway

---

How do you turn into a human? Lan Xichen's brain screamed. How did no one ever discover this? Can all mer do it? Are there limitations? Restrictions? Is it painful? How does that even work when it comes to the conservation of mass?

"I don't remember meeting you," is what he said instead.

Mingjue grimaced. Huaisang squirmed around and this time was allowed to escape, ducking under his brother's half-hearted swat to float back in Lan Xichen's direction.

"Do you remember the school of sharks you helped in the cove just south of here?" he asked.

Lan Xichen blinked.

He did, actually; it was the first large-scale rescue operation he participated in after moving into town to work at the facility. Coastal flooding caused by heavy storms had given the sharks access to a usually-inaccessible bay, and after the water levels went back to normal, they'd gotten trapped behind the shoals. A few had been injured, and the threat displays when anyone went close to them had locals debating if they should just be culled instead of relocated.

There had been one in particular of concern: a larger shark that the others had clearly been protecting, but in the end was the first to allow the rescue team to approach.

Lan Xichen looked at Mingjue, who was very studiously not looking at him.

"That was you?" he blurted.

"He was escorting them to our hunting grounds when they got caught in the storm," Huaisang supplied happily, swimming over to his stash of snack foods on the edge of the pool. He rummaged around before coming up with a bag of kit-kats, which he proceeded to examine with the same amount of focus in opening that Lan Xichen saw in cephalopods.

"Were they all...?"

Huaisang pointedly turned his back, focusing further on the wrappers which Lan Xichen had seen him quite easily open just a day ago.

Mingjue huffed and shot his brother a mutinous look.

"No," he said after a few stubborn moments of silence. "I was the only mer. Most of us can't take other forms like that."

"Big brother is special," Huaisang piped up, casting a beaming smile over his shoulder before returning to his treats. Mingjue snorted.

"You could do it if you worked on your cultivation level and actually studied."

But Mingjue did look at Lan Xichen, then, and whatever he saw on his face made him duck his head.

"You were very gentle," he said, quiet and honest. "And your hands were kind."

"I... Thank you," Lan Xichen breathed. He sank to the ground with what was probably an entirely ungraceful thud, scooting closer to the pool so his shoes were just over the water.

And he held his breath when, hesitantly, Mingjue swam nearer.

"Most of you humans see us as mysteries to be solved," the mer said, studying Lan Xichen closely, as if he was drinking in every inch of him, "Or creatures to be examined. Our interactions with you are...stilted."

Lan Xichen glanced away. He wouldn't take on the misdeeds of others, but he knew full well the complicated--and often tragic--interactions that humans had with merfolk. He wasn't responsible but he still felt it, a shame that soured his stomach.

Cool fingers brushed against his jaw.

He snapped his head up, wide-eyed, staring at Mingjue's face so close. The mer offered him a wry smile, his hand--no longer webbed, no longer taloned--cupping Lan Xichen's cheek in his palm.

"Most of our lesser kin are seen as merely food, or sport," Mingjue said quietly. "But you took care of them. You saw them injured and faced their teeth and you still wanted to help. I would not leave them to their deaths--but neither would you."

Lan Xichen swallowed hard and stubbornly ignored the wetness that gathered in the corners of his eyes. There was a distinction between hoping you made a difference--tending to injured animals, letting them go back to the wild, telling yourself to believe they would be fine--and having it confirmed. Having someone with authority tell you that, yes, you did something good. You helped.

He didn't realize the tears were falling until Mingjue brushed them away, a small, gentle smile curving the mer's mouth.

"Look," he murmured, balancing the salty droplets on his fingertips. "You've always had the sea in you."

Lan Xichen hiccuped a laugh, and leaned down to rest his forehead against the mer's, and smiled.

"Yes," he said. "I suppose I have."

[alyssa-ward]

Drabble prompt: Kat's dead, react. And no, you cannot get to the body.

“Miss Ward, I’m going to need you to calm down.”  The man in the crisp suit stands behind a desk, wearing his military insignia on his shoulder.  The expression he wears at the moment is...patient.

“Don’ tell me t’calm down,” Alyssa snaps back, slamming hands down on the desk between them.  “D’you ‘ave any idea ‘o my father is?  I’m not askin’ the world o’you ‘ere.  I’m askin’ if she’s alive or dead.”

“Miss Ward I’m sure you’re aware that I can’t give information on the status of any of our agents, and certainly not a Director.  Sometimes business can keep them in the field for long periods of time.”  He keeps his calm throughout it, even as the redhead across from him clearly doesn’t.

“Y’think I don’ know that?  It’s been three months, not one word.  Not t’me, not t’any o’er friends or family, I want t’know if I should be mournin’, or preppin’ a ‘omecomin’ dinner.  I’m not askin’ where she is, what she’s doin’, or anythin’ else.  I just fuckin’ want t’know if she’s alive.”

A slow exhausted sigh from the man.  He’s certain, and perhaps it shows on his features, that the answer is not going to just make this woman go away.  He glances down at the file on his desk.  “Miss Hawke is officially labelled as Killed in Action, my condolences.  Will that be all?”

Alyssa’s face goes white, as if she weren’t already pale enough.  She leans more heavily against the desk, nails scratching against the wood.  For a moment, she looks defeated.  That doesn’t last.

“’ow long,” she asks quietly, staring at the desk.

“Two months.”

The Onyx Talon splinters wood as her grip tightens on the edge of the desk.  “Two months?  An’ no one thought t’tell me?”

“Miss Ward, your name isn’t listed anywhere in her emergency contacts or relations.”  His eyes flick down to the splintering wood, “and you’ll need to pay for any damage done do government property, I’m going to ask you one more time to calm down.”

“No fuckin’ shit,” Alyssa’s reply comes with rising anger, her temper slipping.  She’s barely even processing the loss yet, only flooded with anger about the bureaucracy around it.  “Y’met Kat ‘awke?  O’course, ‘ow many people are even on that emergency contact list?  Not many o’us, but it’s not like no one knew we were datin’.”

The man’s easy stance tightens at the reply, his eyes narrowing a touch as he readies himself to act.  “How long Miss Ward.  With all due respect, no, we don’t go out of our way to notify a fling.”

“A fling?”  Flickers of green crackle through hazel irises, bleeding into the whites of her eyes, flames start to flare around the talon ring.  “A fling?”  Scorch marks radiate out from her hand, sparking along the desk.  “Eleven months is not a fuckin’ fling Officer Jackass.  Right.  Tell me where and ‘ow she died.  ‘ey, if it was some enemy o’the state that did it well, I’m about to go solve some diplomatic problems for you.”

The mans hands snap up, blue glow suffusing them as he calls on his own magic to counter her spellwork, flames retract back into her hands, her eyes go back to their natural colour, and she takes a surprised step back.  “Miss Ward, I’m afraid I’m going to place you under arrest for threatening a member of the Alliance Military.  I’ve been more than patient with you.”

Alyssa starts forward again, looking to sweep around the desk, “arrest me?  Y’ not goin’ t’arrest me, y’goin’ t’tell me wh...” her words are cut off as a quick blast of lightning emits from the Agent’s hands, shocking her, sending the Warlock twitching to the ground, the world fading to black around her.

The next day a pair of letters, addressed to Damien Ward and Miles Ward arrive at the townhouse with the same content in each.

To Whom it May Concern,

Alyssa Ward is being held at the Stormwind Stockades pending trial for assault of an Alliance Military officer.

Visiting hours are between twelve bells in the afternoon, and six bells in the evening.

Bail is set at a sum of twenty thousand gold pieces.

Regards,

Offices of the Crown

[ Thanks @kat-hawke, trying to get into the swing of things again, so this was a fun prompt to jump on.  Mention to @dardillien-ward ]

[saccharin-simper]

It took quite a few more hours before the zombie even began to stir, stretching out a little with a silent yawn before blinking his eyes, now strikingly red with blood, sleepily. A little smile crossed his face, looking so calm and relaxed in the cushioned nest, such comfortable bedding compared to the cold, stone floor of his old home... Too comfortable, it seemed, because as he registered the change he raised his heavy head to look around curiously.

And then he saw him; the pale, ghoulish creature, with a skull-marked face and a hollowed, blackened socket for an eye.

[[MORE]]

Instantly awake, the once-human reeled back, toppling the bedding over with the sudden movement and causing both to crash unceremoniously to the floor. A woozy, misted look passed over his gaze with both the fall and the clinging anemia, fear piercing past it and into KAT like a dull knife.

"Don't... Move... Human..." KAT's faint voice croaked, enunciated harshly as his odd, sharp-nailed hands curled to bony fists. The boy trembled forcefully, but ultimately froze in place; good. He could still listen. "Fix... What you have misplaced..."

His bright red eyes darted towards the fallen nest, then quickly back to KAT-- though he didn't miss the millisecond glance behind his angular shoulder, towards the entrance. KAT grimaced, cold and calculating, staring him down until he made a move; wilting under his empty-socketed gaze, the boy raised his shaking, yet bloodied hands ever-so-slowly, carefully shifting the bedding to an upright position. His eyes never left the creature's, barely even blinking.

Satisfied with the results of that test, he nodded slightly, allowing his fists to loosen. One talon beckoned the boy forward. "Now... Come here..."

Eyes rimming with pinkish tears and narrowing hesitantly, the boy stilled, the only motion made being his still-raised hands twitching with frayed nerves. He beckoned again.

"Here... You don't wish me... To tell you a third time..."

Motions almost too slow for KAT to see, he pulled himself to his feet and came just shy of his reach, hands clutched to the chest his hawklike ears could hear pounding frantically, his legs wavering beneath him. So scared.

"Good... Take off your scarf now... And your sweater..."

The tears began to spill down his freckled cheeks, rounded teeth biting hard into his lower lip as an uncertain look passed over his face. 'Why' was clearly at the forefront of his mind; shaking his head slightly, KAT crossed his arms, and waited.

With a soft squeak and a teary sniffle, the zombie didn't dare to be asked again and fumbled with clumsy fingers to untie the scarf about his neck, pulling it away to bare his throat. Blood did still seep from the vertical scar down its length, though slowly-- the wound was still working to heal itself over, but it certainly would if he was careful.

Gripping the hem of his baggy hoodie in a white-knuckled grasp, the boy peeled the clothing from his body- -

--And the higher the hem rose, the more KAT's breath stilled in his lungs, a certain emotion that took a minute to place tapping at his three-chambered heart.

The zombie was more than just scrawny, as he'd first appeared beneath all that fabric. He was starved. He was emaciated.

The human seemed to have no meat to speak of, skin wound tightly around protruding limbs, digging beneath ribs KAT could count. His stomach was a hollowed bowl cradled by jutting hips. Sympathy. For the first time in over a millenium, the creature felt sorrow for a human-- or once-human-- being, for a tortuous creature tortured half to death in turn by its own species' indifference. KAT frowned, eyebrows pulling together; no wonder he'd weighed so little...

The zombie clearly hadn't expected that kind of response, and it seemed to spook him, eyes rounding as he froze with the hoodie up to his neck. Did he know why he'd reacted the way he did? He wasn't so sure humans understood sympathy. Would one comprehend or even recognize that feeling on another? Did it scare him, more than neutrality, more than even malevolence?

Taking the shirt off the rest of the way (having not realized KAT's intentions were only to assess, he supposed, and that his goal was complete), the boy shivered, narrow shoulders hunching in a defensive stance-- shoulder blades jutting like fins from his back. His gaze kept flitting towards the entrance. Face falling back into a tight-lipped frown, KAT beckoned a third time.

"Closer... And hold out your hand..."

The boy shook his head slightly, taking a tiny step back-- to frightened to obey and be within the creature's reach. A soft sob bubbled from his throat. His stance was begging, a macabre and silent chant of 'please don't touch me', 'please don't hurt me'.

That look predictably changed, however, once KAT held out the apple the boy had been too panicked to notice. Awe widened his eyes, his mouth popping open-- still uncertain, but now almost hopeful. 'Food,' his expression asked, 'for me...?'

"Take it... And eat... You need to be stronger... For what is to come..."

The boy nodded, though he was clearly concerned with what KAT had meant by 'what is to come', expression so scared and so ravenous and yet so, so soft in a way no other human had looked before his eyes. This boy was a conundrum, an outlier-- how he clung to him in his final moments, how he curbed his panic and listed to the commands he spoke... He hardly seemed of the same blood as violent, bestial humanity.

Taking the apple in a timid grasp, he pulled it towards him, shoving as much of it in his mouth as he possibly could with each bite. The creature could hear each desperate swallow, the food hitting his empty stomach with a low growl. In less than a minute only the core was left, and even then he was working it down to seeds and stem.

"I wonder... What your name was..."

Pausing, the zombie blinked up at him, remembering that he was afraid. It almost looked like he was trying to reply, but of course all that came of it was a series of little mouse-like squeaks, and soon after a haunted, mournful look crossed his face.

"It... Doesn't matter... I don't much care for human names... And I think... I will name you instead... With such grim expressions... And with such a grim fate.... I think I will call you... Grim..."

Grim's eyes lowered to the floor, bloody tears weeping down his cheeks and falling to the spindly apple core. A low moan parted from his lips.

"Yes... I think that Grim... Is very fitting... And... Are you still hungry...?"

KAT knew by the longing in his eyes that Grim was lying when he shook his head, but didn't press-- if he'd rather starve longer, so be it.

"Then... Go outside... And put that in with the mulch... And you will go and water the garden..."

His red eyes flashed with shock. 'I can leave?' KAT ignored it.

"... And pull the weeds... And once you're done... You will sleep... Tomorrow I will have more for you to do..." A dark grin twisted the creature's skull-patterned face, shadows filling his hollowed features. "After all... It seems only fair that you would serve me... After I saved your life... Does it not... Little human...? Not that you have much choice... I suppose... You could try to run if you like... Yes... But these woods stretch far... And I would surely find you..."

A rough tremor shook Grim once again, eyes squeezing shut for a long moment as though the words had struck him. Then, flinchingly, the boy lowered to a small bow. An understanding had been made.

"Go on... Outside..."

Grim had to take a bracing breath before walking past KAT, very much afraid to be within grasping distance, his anxiously darting eyes watching for any small movement in the other each second they were so close. He didn't strike though, he noted; he didn't seem to be looking for weaknesses to exploit, for an opportunity, he was only making sure he wouldn't be harmed. Gentle, or foolish? It was hard to say.

Following him outside, KAT leaned against the entryway, merely watching as Grim tried to situate himself and find what he needed to follow through with his orders. The trailing eye agitated him to be sure, and caused a tremble in his legs, but the zombie tried to ignore that... Interesting.

Placing the apple core in the compost, Grim wandered over to the small pond beside the house, picking up the bucket next to it and filling it with water for the plants; his scrawny arms struggled to try and pull it from the pond once it was full, though, and the rampant tremors and dizzy anemia weren't doing him any good. Digging his heels into the ground, he pulled it out of the water will all his might; the force of his yanking caused the bucket to crash into his stomach, and he failed to balance and tumbled over, spilling the water over himself and the ground in the process.

Sighing, KAT approached the bordering-on-pathetic scenario-- which caused Grim to panic; the boy began to hyperventilate, his torn throat ripping open again from the strain, his body pressing tightly to the ground in a full-on cower as his arms raised over his head protectively. Terrified screeching poured from his lips. Of course Grim could only assume such a big, scary monster would punish him for his mistakes-- an assumption based on a reflection of humanity, to be sure.

"We'll try again tomorrow..." The monster murmured, taking the empty bucket from the zombie's lap. He shrank back from the hand that reached for it, lips ashen and quivering, peeking up at him from between his fingers. "You are... Of no use to me like this... We'll try again tomorrow..." Another chilling grin. "... And if not then... The next day... And if not soon... I could put you to use... By eating you... Little human..."

Grim, horrified, began to sob faintly, hiccuping and squeaking as he curled up around himself-- like that would protect him. Still he didn't strike out at the creature. Did he just not think to? Did he figure he couldn't overpower him?

"For now... Just sleep... Back inside... Now..."

The boy seemed frozen in place, physically unable to stand and follow. KAT sighed once again, and slowly put his hand out for him to take.

"I won't harm you... For this mistake... You are unwell... I won't be cruel... And you... Tried... To obey me... That's enough... Right now..."

Grim didn't seem to know what to make of that; his big, blood-red eyes fixated on the hand, at the sharp talons-- whimpering softly-- confused-- but also soothed by that promise, at least enough to stop crying.

Hesitant as before, Grim eventually worked up the nerve to take the creature's hand. His touch was delicate, almost trusting-- not in a true sense, of course, but in a way where he at least tried his best to put faith in his vow. It was a good thing to put faith to, that said, though he doubted a human would understand it; KAT's word was binding-- he wouldn't betray it. He pulled the trembling boy back to his feet.

"Eínai entáxei... Eísai asfalís..."

Grim unconsciously rubbed the taken hand one KAT had let go of it, an odd, uncertain little noise-- wavering relief-- crawling from his mouth; he trailed behind the creature like a lost dog as he began to walk towards the threshold, curious eyes peering around the clearing and up at the house as they walked. He seemed to find the setting serene, despite KAT's daunting presence.

Once inside, he bent stiffly to pick up his hoodie, holding it to his chest-- asking. It was dry clothing, after all, and he didn't seem at all comfortable with having his malnourished body exposed like it was. At KAT's silent nod he pulled it over his head, making sure the fringe went down to his mid-thighs before taking off the wet pants beneath them-- keeping the boxers in place despite the fact that they too were damp. A shy blush crossed his face, but he didn't seem to humor asking for something else to wear, and kept his lips pursed tightly shut. The scarf was returned to drape loosely around his neck.

Once that was done the boy shuffled hesitantly to the nest-- then blinked up at KAT, afraid to assume. He... Considered the possibility for a minute of telling the human to sleep on the floor, where a human belonged; the urge to make him suffer, just a little, to make him subservient and all the more afraid, was tempting...

... But he would only heal all the more slowly if he was anxious and strained, the blood now flowing thickly from his wound was proof of that. There was no point. He nodded again, very slightly, and the boy crawled into the bedding, curling up with his ankles crossed and his knees to his chest like a barrier. Still tense; still wary.

"Can you fall asleep... On your own...?" KAT rasped, looming close to the boy with his hollowed socket gaping down at him. A little shudder ran up his spine. A creature of nightmares, asking if he could sleep-- he supposed it was laughable. Fine, then. "Lay still... And close your eyes..."

Shifting nervously, Grim settled in a bit more, and tried to close his eyes... But it was a flinching, fluttering motion, unable to let himself be blind to the creature. Each time his eyes managed to close all the way his hyperventilation grew worse, hiccuping breaths catching in his patchwork throat. KAT could tell, though, that he was honest in his attempts, truly trying to abide his command-- it was admirable, in a way, though he was sure the fuel was fear and not adherence to the penance for his saved life.

Bending, KAT placed the palm of his right hand lightly over Grim's forehead (which caused him to jump, of course, and emit a strangled little keen), feeling the pins and needles of his magic glowing within his palm. Within only a few moments he fell limp, fast asleep in his cozy nest. His expression relaxed slowly from fright to one of peace.

His fingertips drifted down Grim's pink-stained cheeks, thoughtful at the drying blood that'd leaked from his eyes, then lifed his chin again with one talon-- delicately displaying his throat. The boy was going to bring his own demise, or a second one, if he couldn't control himself... KAT's precision work had been frayed apart in his distress, draining his blood all over again. Tsking softy, the creature raised his left hand and slashed open the wound, merged his blood within Grim's, and cast his magic until said wound had been re-sewn. He should have figured Grim couldn't handle any heavy tasks so soon, even if-- or perhaps especially when-- KAT's healing method had been foreign to even him... Only light things for awhile, he decided. He could still be useful doing just a couple small chores.

KAT straightened, staring at the boy for a moment or two longer-- contemplative. So now he had a mute human. Better than one that talked, he supposed... But still, ah, disdainful. He'd never felt a need for servants, but if he had, they certainly would have been something a little closer to the supernatural-- something like a nymph, maybe, something that wouldn't find him so unpleasant to look upon.

But a situation was a situation. And now they were in it together.

[tragedybunny]

The Blade’s Edge - A League of Legends Fanfiction - Chapter 5

They had a simple arrangement. She was the weapon to be used on his enemies. Things get more complicated when emotions bleed into what should simple. Now the two of them find themselves on the precipice of something that was entirely unexpected. Katarina/Swain 

The mood around me is celebratory, Noxus has new friends in the north. The Warmother Ashe has seen the benefits of our offered alliance. In time we’ll help to strengthen the Avarosans and then we’ll absorb them into the Empire. Everything had fallen quite nicely into place, well except for a small objective I’d had my sights on. Pity, that girl is rather fetching. Perhaps it’s for the best though since I find myself in a rather black mood.

Katarina still hasn’t returned from the assignment I’d sent her on. I expected her back some time ago and left word with the guards to inform as soon as she returned. That’s all I need is for that girl to get herself caught spying on our new allies and ruin everything that’s been done here.

I’d had to play host to the raucous feast to commemorate this momentous occasion, our guests more than happy to indulge in the stores we’d brought with from the capital. I’d watched the feasting and drinking as night unfurled around us, feigning interest in several conversations, my patience growing ever thinner.

I see one of the guards from the rear gate approaching. I wave him over and he leans in. “She’s returned, Sir. I’ve sent her to your room as requested.”

About time. “Very well.” He nods and fades into the background. I should make her wait for me. She’d taken an inordinate amount of time out there, it would only be fair. But I’ve grown tired of the drunken debauchery around me and would prefer some solitude.

I rise a few heads turn towards me, I put my hand up. “I need to attend to a small matter.” Most are too far into their drink to even notice. Behind me someone starts singing, my exit was well timed at least. As I make my way upstairs I plan to let her know just how irritated I am with her.

“Katarina you’d better an explanation for this.” I snarl as I fling the door open and storm in. I stop short when I see her. She’s at the wash basin, cleaning a small wound on her throat. My irritation melts away, perhaps I was a bit hasty with it anyway.

She turns to fix a significant glare in my direction, behind it though she looks tired and frustrated. “Oh please forgive me for my late return from the nonsense you sent me out to do.” The sarcasm drips drips from her words. She goes back to dabbing at the wound.

I sigh and make my way over to her. “It had to be you, I trust you more than anyone else here.” It’s the truth, I hadn’t thought about how she’d perceive things though, the amount of offense she’d take. I reach out and tuck my fingers under her chin, tilting it upwards to get a look at her neck.

I reach towards the rag in her hand but she yanks it back from my grasp. “Don’t.” She hisses through her teeth. She is definitely more than irritated with me.

“Sh, let me take care of it.” I pry the rag from her and finish cleaning the wound before letting go of her. It’s not terribly deep, dark bruising around it making it look worse than it is. “There, it’s not bad, but watch it for infection.”

“I know that.” She snaps at me. I ignore it and wrap my arms around her, feeling the cold lingering on her. I want to diffuse her anger but she pulls away from me. “Do you want to hear what you sent me out there for or not?”

I don’t though, all I want right now is her in my arms, her lips on mine, the feel of her body pressed against mine. “It can wait, why don’t you let me get you warmed up first.” I reach out again, this time she doesn’t pull away but closes her eyes and leans against me. The mood shift is almost tangible, I kiss the top of head and she sighs softly. My hands move to the heavy coat she’s wearing, undoing it and casting it aside. I pull her shirt over her head and run my hands down her back. “My poor little frozen Kitten.”

“Why are you so irritating?” She reaches up and pushes my coat off my shoulders, her voice now practically a purr.

“You seem to find me charming enough.” Her hands tangle in my shirt, pulling it off, before wrapping around my neck. She presses her lips to mine, the soft curve of her breasts pushing against my chest. I scoop her legs out from under her and carry her to the bed.

“I hate it when you do that.” She kicks off her boots.

“You enjoy it.” I finish undressing and push her down onto her back. I listen to her breath accelerate while I remove her pants. I think I’ll make her pay a little bit for her attitude earlier.

I push her legs apart and lean down between her thighs. I run my tongue over her, just barely tasting her. She hisses and her hands grip the blankets. I tease her outside, feeling how wet she’s getting. I barely penetrate her with the tip of my tongue. “Damn.” She whispers.

I keep lightly licking her, listening to her moans, getting her close but careful not to take her all the way. She tastes so incredibly sweet. Finally I run my tongue over her clit before taking it between my teeth and sucking lightly. “Fuck.” She shouts just as I pull away leaving her again at the edge.

I move up and kiss her deeply, driving my tongue into her mouth, I want her to taste herself on me. I keep my cock just outside her, letting her feel what she does to me. She whimpers and bucks her hips a bit. I pull out of the kiss but don’t give her what she wants.

She sits up on her elbows, her skin flushed and her eyes glazed. “What are you waiting for?”

“I think because of your reticence earlier you’re going to have to ask me very nicely for what you want, Kitten.” I can tell she contemplates killing me for a moment.

“You can’t be serious.” I reach out and grasp one of her hardened nipples and give it a light pinch.

“I am. And apologize for your attitude earlier.” She grits her teeth but a small moan escapes her. I pinch a little harder, prodding her on.

“I’m sorry for being ill tempered.”

“And…”

“And please fuck me…Sir.” The little addition of Sir makes me fight to not just bury myself in her. And she knows it. But I’m not done with her.

“I think I’d prefer you got on your hands and knees to show me how sorry you are.”

She gives me a wicked smile, throwing herself into this little game. She does as I ask. “Does my apology please you? ” Her voice soft and alluring.

I don’t answer but drive myself inside her, feeling her tight warmth surround me, listening to her moan as I take her. It’s not long before she’s near screaming with every thrust before finally calling my name as she tightens around me. I follow soon after, gripping her hips tightly, burying myself as deep as possible as I spend myself inside her.

I fall back onto the bed, pulling her to me. Suddenly I can’t stand the thought of her leaving and going off to her own bed. She doesn’t fight it, her back against my chest, her breathing slowing. She does look tired, perhaps I should’ve just let her rest.

“So you were saying about the encampment of our new friends.” She makes an irritated noise and I kiss her shoulder lightly.

“Definitely not enough of them to withstand an invasion. If they could be focused on without contending with every other tribe. But it’s a start for a decent foothold up here.” She stretches a bit, I know she’s about to try to leave.

I could ask her to stay again, she likely wouldn’t refuse. She moves to get out of my arms but I don’t let go. I kiss the back of her neck. “Don’t leave.”

“No.” She sits up, I’m too stung by her rejection to resist. “You’re an ass in the morning when I stay.”

“I promise it won’t happen this time. I enjoy having you here.” I reach and put my hand over hers, trying to convince her.

There’s ice in her voice. “We have a rule, remember. You said before we left there shouldn’t be me anymore indiscretions. And look what happened this morning.” She snatches her hand out from under mine.

“Well then I’m changing the rules.” She narrows her eyes at me.

“No, you don’t get to keep changing the terms. And I still wouldn’t trust you to not be insufferable.” She’s actually raising her voice at this point. Are we having an argument?

She gets up to start leaving again. “They are my terms and I’ll change them as I please. If you don’t like it you can move out of my house when we return. Figure out your life without my terms.”

I don’t know why I say it, other than desperation to win this stupid arguement. I don’t mean it all and I regret it as soon as it’s said. An unpleasant tightness suddenly constricting my chest.

“Fine, fuck you.” She huffs and gets under the covers, back to me, as far across the bed as she can get.

“Fine” I spit back, getting up to extinguish the candles. I join her under the covers facing away from her. Minutes pass that seem to stretch into hours. I know I went too far and laying here in angry silence makes me worry she’ll act on what I said. I don’t know why it matters, just that it does. It’s a strange feeling of vulnerability that I’m neither used to nor care for. Finally I give in. “Kat?”

“What.” That one word is as sharp as any of her daggers.

“I didn’t mean that.” She doesn’t respond. I turn over to face her. “Really, I’m sorry.” I reach out to touch her shoulder. I just want her to know that I’m sincere, to forgive me.

But as my hand brushes her skin, the sound of ravens cawing fills the room. My vision begins to blur as a red eyed spectral bird lands between us. Pain erupts behind my left eye as the vision takes me.

As it usually is, I see as through a mist: a cage of stone, an ancient magic called forth. A gathering of followers surround a hooded man. He turns a blade on one of them, his form reflects Du Couteau’s training. Ah, the foundling Talon. I hear a familiar female voice in the distance. “We must do what is best for Noxus.”

And then I awaken. Kat is sitting next to me, gently running her hand down my back. Why? I know it’s kindness I didn’t earn tonight.

“Are they always like that?” She’s never been present during a vision before, not many have.

“Not always.” I roll away from her. I don’t want her to be kind to me right now. “How long was I out?”

“Half an hour, maybe.” She settles back down and pulls the covers up around us. Her arm wraps around my waist, her body warm against my back. I feel myself relaxing, the pain in my head fading.

“I’m sorry about before, you can leave if you want.”

She exhales loudly. “Don’t worry about it.” I feel her kiss between my shoulder blades.

It’s not quite forgiveness but at least I know she’s not going to leave. There’s clearly work to be done when we return home.

[definitelynotscott]

WIP game: life, blue, and/or help !

:D

Secrets

The banked rage in his heart flickered to life, and he set his tumbler on the table because he didn’t want to test its strength.

“Can I come in?” she asked, voice subdued, serious blue-green eyes looking up at him from under her golden lashes.

He chose the two-tiered dangly kind with a hook clasp and golden glass chips to match her hair, since he had never determined if her eyes were blue or green.

She was wearing a strapless dress in a blue so pale that at this distance it looked white except in the folds and valleys of the fabric.

He couldn’t help but smile back.

Understanding lit her eyes and he couldn’t help but grin.

Inheritance

Draven inquires about her love-life. (from the summary/outline)

To-Write List

(Please remember that while some of the stories in here haven’t been written because I’m slow, some of the stories in here haven’t been written because the initial idea just wasn’t that strong.) Cut for length. Like. There’s just over 39 pages. There were going to be a lot of hits. Some of these I’ve posted about before so I’ll come back in the morning and edit in links, but I’m tired now.

I guess I’m here to light up your life, but maybe not like you expect. (Soulmate AU II)

Okay, so he was a dick, saddling her with, essentially, a mark that called her a whore her whole life, but was she really planning to avoid speaking to him forever? (Soulmate AU V)

“How’s married life?” (Soulmate AU XIII)

And even when you’re a good liar “Ha ha, you’re my friend, and he’s a big part of your life, so of course I’m interested…” will only take you so far. (Soulmate AU XIV)

Ezreal hasn’t really thought about the sudden appearance of Darius in Lux’s life, he’s busy concentrating on his studies (and Taric, but…). (Some college AU)

Lux walks in on Garen and Darius trying to kill each other but mistakes it for another activity entirely. Garen doesn’t deny it, in fact goading her into making Darius’ life hell by acting emotionally vulnerable (“I wanted something more than physical”) (Wow you get the entire prompt for this one. Also a College AU)

All he wants is to show Lux how grateful he is to have her in his life. (Established Relationship AU/Starting Their Own Business AU/Unplanned Pregnancy AU)

Domestic Life in Noxus sort of thing where an assassin and an “information broker” get married because the landlord is only renting to married couples. (I actually posted about this one before!)

But she feeds him and keeps him safe like she would have for Jane, and makes snarky comments about his dad and all the unhealthy people in his life, and she starts to grow on him. … And they’re having one of their sniping little conversations like they do, and she pulls up the “upgrade to PAID” line, and there’s a pause and he says “…I could pay you…” kind of reaching out to the one non-toxic person in his life. … While she’s sending out applications and going for interviews she’s texting Justin to make sure he’s eating and sleeping, and giving him little pep talks about not abandoning his dreams and not letting the toxic SOBs around him direct his life. … Then Justin is kidnapped by unsavory types and Darcy A) can’t tell anyone because then she’d have to fess up about talking to Justin all the time and she’s sure they’d assume she’s a traitor and B) why would Tony help Justin anyway? (That Darcy Thing I Outlined Here.)

Being in prison is essentially a monastic lifestyle he didn’t choose. (Overwatch Thing I Posted.)

She’s double insulted since he should know she can make his life hell, and that she can be happy in whatever circumstances. (One of many Arranged Marriage AUs (but not quite so many that I’ve busted out the Roman numerals yet.))

They save her a bag when the gym gets crowded, and help her brush off a follower. … Garen immediately leaves to look for spare garments in the car, as everyone can see her bra is see-through blue mesh. … They listen to music supplied by Professor Heimerdinger (Space Jam, Commander Thinks Aloud, Blue & Beautiful, etc.) … Slow-dance to Blue & Beautiful. (College AU/Gym Rat AU)

Gifts would appear out of nowhere, usually in a plain box, but once you opened it the wrappings were bold, obvious, Demacian blue and gold. (Kind of a Lux-being-a-stalker AU)

Conjoined households are seen as lower class because A) if you’re high ranked you’ll be stationed in the city, B) if you’re strong enough you can defend your household without help. (More of me making up weird societal rules about marriage because that’s fun for me.)

OKAY WE’RE SKIPPING THIS ONE. O///O (But the word was “help” - not “helping” or “helped” but “help.”)

A big old fish is just as likely to toss itself over the edge without her help (and without knocking her over the railing) so she stays inside. … He helps where he can (he can use the railings like parallel bars and kind of walk himself down using his hands, but he’s also kind of banged up from getting thrown against a lighthouse. (Lighthouse Keeper/Merman AU)

This one I was working on with someone else so IDK if I should share it, but it pinged on “help”.

Lux always completes her assignments above and beyond the call of duty, but with so little help, hope, experience, and cooperation (from both her superiors and her “clients”) her edges are beginning to fray… (Kinda… a Public Defender AU? Also a “DANG IT WHY ARE THERE ALL THESE “NOXUS WINS HERE ARE THE HORRIBLE CONSEQUENCES” AUs AND NO “DEMACIA WINS AND HERE ARE THE HORRIBLE CONSEQUENCES” AUs” AU)

Sequel: Darius is assigned to help Cassiopeia with Shurima because his Demacian tattoos will strike fear, but what happens when Demacians descend upon them? (Sequel to a Pirate AU where the Demacians are the Pirates (”Harsh justice of the sea” anyone?))

Ezreal and Janna decide to helpfully “prove” that she should avoid an arranged marriage. (Obviously an Arranged Marriage AU)

Draven’s thrilled, really wants to help with the wedding plans. (Double-Blind Marriage AU/Arranged Marriage AU)

“If you’re going to half my storage space I’m going to have you help me translate the ancient Demacian parts,” he said, sounding amused. (Magic Made Them Do It story, but set after “The Incident.”)

Ezreal is helping Jayce construct a device (recreate Ekko’s device?) (De-aging story)

OKAY WE’RE SKIPPING THIS ONE TOO. O///O (It’s not even that bad, I’m just easily embarrassed.) Pinged on “helping”.

But it’s a personal issue, so she’s willing to help. (Draven playing matchmaker AU)

He can’t help but agree internally. (Vampire/Werewolf AU)

…bathing him to help him smell more like pack. (We’ll just, uh, clip this one a little bit… ^^; )

KAT REALIZES SHE INHERITED HER FATHER’S JOB OF HELPING TALON INTERFACE WITH SOCIETAL STANDARDS (”Accidental” Baby Acquisition that I’ve mentioned before.)

[no-shxme]

did a talsett req (YAYAYYAYAYY thanks for requesting talsett omg) as a warmup but it turned out pretty long afdkldsfj

prompt was talon introducing sett to katarina but i did kinda twist it into it's own thing, also set in a modern au. thank you for the insp!

In hindsight it’ll be funny, but for Talon that might take a couple years. Sett will laugh about it by next week, because he’s unbothered, but stuff that’s easy for him is hard for Talon. Like being the center of attention or reaching the top shelf where all the biggest bowls are. Talon’s sleeping when Katarina comes, or he’s trying to. He’s laying in bed when she shows up, half-awake and thinking about nothing but the sound of the frying pan from the kitchen. Talon had barely slept last night, and even now he’s close but not close enough. The room is too bright and everything is fuzzy, so he doesn’t pay much attention to anything except when Sett calls, “Hey—Tal—”

His tone is funny, Talon can’t tell exactly what it is. He sits up and scrubs the crust from his eyes.

Sett will describe, later, how he’d been cooking when she’d let herself into the apartment. She hadn’t knocked or rung the bell, since she has her own key. Sett’s ears barely had time to swivel before she was standing in the entryway, staring at him in his boxers.

“Who the fuck are you?” 

Talon’s thought about how he’d introduce Sett, but not seriously. Maybe Sett could just be his little secret that no one else has to know about. He’s not ashamed of him, Talon’s just bad at sharing. But none of his scenarios had involved Katarina suddenly finding out on her own, so when they’re all standing in the kitchen he has no idea what to say or what to do. Sett turns off the stove and waits there awkwardly with his pan.

“Talon—” Katarina says, and points at Sett. “Who’s this?”

Talon swallows thickly. His mouth is dry. “That’s Sett,” he says.

“Hey,” Sett offers carefully, waving the spatula. “Heard about you.”

“Talon—I’m—” Katarina seems genuinely flustered. She stomps over and grabs his wrist. “Let’s have a chat.”

She drags him back to the bedroom and shuts the door and Talon watches her survey the room in dismay, noticing how there’s two phones on the nightstand, and a few extra pairs of shoes scattered on the floor. Katarina’s smart, she turns around.

“Talon. What?” 

The question isn’t specific enough so Talon says nothing.

“Are you dating him?” Katarina asks.

Talon nods. Kind of.

Kat makes an unidentifiable noise. “How long have you been dating? You never told me?”

“Almost a year,” says Talon.

“I’m gonna strangle you,” Kat says. “Talon he’s—” she raises her hand far up above Talon’s head, as if measuring his height. “How?”

Talon frowns. “What.”

“Tal.” She spins in a circle. “Garen and I, we’re like, a match.”

He stares at her.

“Like visually,” she says. “It’s—I’m not calling you ugly, Tal, but—he’s—”

Talon looks down at his feet. He wishes she’d never shown up. He’s too tired for this. “But he wants me.”

“Is he rich? Are you sure he doesn’t want your money?” Kat hisses, exasperatedly.

He pushes her away. “Stop.”

“Talon, I’m worried about you.” She sighs, exasperated. 

“You don’t even know him,” Talon snaps.

“Oh I wonder why!” Kat throws her hands up. “I decide to visit my little brother and find a complete stranger in his underwear.” 

“He’s my boyfriend,” Talon snaps, out of spite. “Why are you here?”

“It’s your adoption day tomorrow, remember?” 

Talon blinks at her. He’d completely forgotten. “Oh,” he mutters.

“Everythin’ okay?” Sett asks, on the other side of the door. 

No, Talon thinks. My sister doesn’t trust my judgment. She doesn’t understand all the care Sett’s taught him, or the ringer that Talon put him through just to let Sett keep him.

“I wanna put on a shirt,” Sett adds, and Talon can picture the way his ears must be folded back.

He wrenches open the door and steps past Sett into the hall. Katarina stares at him, and Talon knows she must be comparing them, trying to fit them together like a puzzle, even though they never matched up to begin with. Sett and him are not typical. They don’t fit the same way others do.

“Listen bucko.” Katarina pokes Sett in the middle of his chest. “I don’t know what your deal is, but if you mess with him—” 

Sett is flat against the wall, looking down at her. “Uh-huh,” he says, and his gaze flickers to Talon’s and back.

“I’ll fucking gut you,” she threatens. “You’ll wish you were never born.”

“Uh—” Sett starts. “You sure you’re not related by blood?”

She pokes him one more time for emphasis and stalks past Talon down the hall. “Be ready tomorrow, Tal. You’ve got so much explaining to do.”

Sett’s ears twitch back when the front door slams.

After another minute Talon shuffles over to lean his forehead against Sett’s chest, and Sett pats his shoulder reassuringly.

“You slept yet?” he asks.

“No,” Talon mumbles. Sett cups his cheek and kind warmth bleeds from his palm. 

“Go lay down,” he reassures. “I’ll be there after I clean up.”

Talon gladly obeys. He curls back up under the blankets, letting his brain go fuzzy again. Maybe Kat’s just mad that Sett is taller than Garen. He’ll ask tomorrow. She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t have to.

[calucadu]

The Light’s Child - Chapter 6

The Light’s Child, a League of Legends Fanfic. Chapter 6.

Summary: Lux has some worrying symptoms, and she thinks she might just know what it’s all about. Katarina wants to find out the light mage’s dark secret, what will she do to discover it?

Pairings: Darius/Lux, Ezreal/Lux, implied Garen/Katarina

Characters: Darius, Lux, Ezreal, OCs, Garen, Katarina, Talon, Draven, Soraka, Ekko, Swain, Jinx, LeBlanc

Rating: Mature

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Draven felt uneasy. His lucky axes had gone missing and he’d looked for them everywhere and still couldn’t find them. Unhappy, he went into his apartment, only to hear noises coming from his room. He pushed the door open and found Katarina lying on his bed smirking, twirling around his precious axes as if they were her daggers.

“Draaaaveeeeen” she purred, sitting up a little. “Looking for these?”

“Yeah, baby!” He licked his lips in anticipation, throwing himself on his own bed and eagerly crawling to her. He slammed his mouth against hers and forced his tongue to enter her.

“WHAT THE FUCK!? GET OFF OF ME!” She managed to say, once she dropped his axes to push him away, quickly recovering them.

“Hey, c’mon babe, you want it.”

“Why do you always perceive everything as being hit on?” She stared at him with a deadpan look.

“Who wouldn’t want to hit on Draven?” He chuckled, his face still too close to hers. She could feel his warm breath on her skin and it made her shudder. “I am glorious, as you know.”

“Enough.” She pushed him away, before she snarled, her gaze turning unforgivable. “You’re gonna pay for what you’ve done”

“What? For stealing a kiss?” The man smirked, shoving her against the bedframe with as much force as he could muster. A sly tongue slithered out of his mouth and licked his own lips, as if he were enjoying the rare view of a defenceless Sinister Blade. “Now I really know you’re hitting on me. Didn’t know you were into this, though.”

“No, you idiot. You raped Lux.” Kat muttered, her bangs covering part of her face as she forced the defiant look to not falter from her features.

“Pffft!” A rough snicker escaped his mouth as he rolled his eyes. “Bitch, what are you sayin’?”

“I know you did!” She raised her voice, only to be shoved harder against the bedframe, the back of her head hitting against something hard.

A strong hand grabbed her lower face with force, his thumb and fingers pressing her cheeks as he rolled her head over while he looked at her with disgust, his tongue clicking, voicing his discontent.

“Says who?” His low voice pierced her ears as he spoke loudly. “You’re wrong, Kat. I didn’t rape Lux. Didn’t even get the chance to fuck her stupid. Darius fucking stopped it and I’ll be damned if he’d ever let me touch her again.”

He released her as he moved away, letting her body go limp against his bed. She stopped her fall as she landed on her hands. She raised her head to look at him and he noted the red marks he’d left on her cheeks, pleased with himself.

“You gonna believe rumours or some shit over what I say?” He questioned, crossing his arms over his chest, an eyebrow raising slowly as his eyes bore into hers.

“I can tell you’re not lying.”

“And it’s not like I want anything to do with blonde bimbos.” Draven relaxed his posture, comfortably throwing himself on his own bed and stretching lazily.

“You did want her once, though.” She noted, distracted. She didn’t care about small talk, she was focused on figuring out what was going on. Something smelt really rotten but she couldn’t quite determine what it was.

“A fuck’s a fuck. She seemed available.” He shrugged his shoulders and looked at her, a smirk appearing on his face as a playful hand wandered to her waist. “Talking about fucks…”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” She shoved him away and got off the bed.

His gaze fell on his forgotten axes and he quickly recovered them, kissing each blade carefully, as if they’d been gone for ages and were his beloved children or something.

“Thanks for these.” He snickered, propping his body up slightly, adjusting his position to be more comfortable. “Anyway, why’re you here for?”

“I thought you were Ethanial’s father.” She huffed, sitting on the edge of the bed and crossing her legs.

A burst of laughter erupted from Draven.

“What on Runeterra ever made you think that?” He wheezed as the cackles slowly died down.

“I had my reasons.” Was all she said, her brow creased, annoyed at the fact that the man’s teasing had got to her. “Shut up.”

But then, it finally dawned on Katarina. The reason why it all seemed weird. She’d remembered Darius’s words from the previous day, realising she’d just got played. Why would a man like him sell out his brother so easily if not for his own motives? She balled her fists tightly, furious that she hadn’t noticed earlier. He’d steered her away from the truth. He gave the kid private teaching lessons. He…

“Draven.” She whispered slowly, frowning slightly. “What did you say again about bedding Lux?”

“This again? Look, trust me, I’m not that kid’s father…” He started but she interrupted him.

“Just tell me!”

“Sheesh! What do you want me to say? That I tried? That Darius stopped me?”

“Yes. Darius.” The confirmation she needed. She had to hear his name said out loud for it all to plop into place in her head. Everything else fitted perfectly. Noxian, strong, dark haired… it couldn’t be any other man.

“What of him?”

“Nothing! Well, won’t you look at the time?” She answered, running to the door and opening it quickly, getting out of his room.

“Wait, wait! Where are you going?” He called out, chasing after her.

“Canteen. It’s lunch time, right?” She smirked, turning round to look at the man briefly, the look on her face showing how completely focused she was on her next task. Darius was going to pay for playing her.

“Hey, wait! I know that look, you’re planning something. I’m going with you!” He shouted, rushing after her.

They made their way to the canteen and she grinned before opening the door and walking swiftly inside, followed by a curious and eager Draven.

Ethanial sighed, his head in his hands. He was currently sitting on his bed, feeling sorry for himself. He sometimes glanced up and looked at the amulet hanging on the wall. The one he’d been given on the day he was born and he was prohibited to touch. Somehow, looking at it made him feel worse and better at the same time. It filled him with dread, but it also made him feel hope. It was undeniably beautiful and there was something about it… that attracted him to it. He wanted so desperately to wrap his fingers around it.

He’d been feeling like this for the past few days, since the moment that thought had crossed his mind. A shiver run down his spine as he remembered what it was that was making him feel like this.

With one last glance at the amulet, he gathered enough courage to get up from the bed. He sighed and stretched lazily, trying to ease his numb body. How much time had he spent in that uncomfortable position, just moping? He wasn’t even sure of that. He needed to find out the truth. Hopefully it was just a crazy idea he’d had, and nothing more.

Frowning, he made his way to the training room, ready to face the facts, or, better still, to sigh in relief as he realised he’d been wrong all along.

The boy walked in with his usual swift stride, pausing only to stare at Darius before his brow creased and the older man met his gaze, confusion clear in his features. Before the older one could speak, the other was only a foot away from him and waving his hands in exasperation.

“You’re my father.” He finally said. They stared at each other for what seemed like a million years before the Noxian sighed and caressed a tender spot in his neck before lifting his gaze and facing the younger.

“Yes.” He nearly muttered, trying to shake off the feeling that had started in the very pit of his stomach and was working its way up. His eyebrows twitched slightly, as he watched his son’s reaction.

They stood there, perfectly still, both with their eyes set on each other before Darius decided to ask the lingering yet obvious question.

“How’d you find out?” He asked, gingerly lifting an eyebrow, noticing how the boy licked his lips and straightened his back slightly. The General came to the conclusion that Lux had accidentally let it slip out, but the way Ethanial was looking at him made him doubt it.

The boy stared into the deep green eyes of who he could now call his father and hesitated briefly before answering him.

“I don’t think we look much alike. I mean, maybe there’s a certain something that you have that I possess too, but what really made me realise was this.” He gestured frantically with his hands, forcing Darius to search whatever it was the boy meant. When the younger noticed his father wasn’t understanding him, he sighed and sat down on the bench.

“I mean, at first, I didn’t notice. But then it dawned on me. Why would a Noxian help out the son of a Demacian-born? Why give me special classes? I mulled it over for a bit and came out with a few possibilities.”

The General nodded, as if giving the other permission to continue with his speech.

“One. That you owed my mother a favour. But that didn’t make sense. How would you owe her anything, and even if you did, why would the way of paying the debt off be classes to her first son, when there are many other people that could train me? A Noxian training a Demacian, there must be some scandal caused by that anyway. Two. It was never anything you or my mother said, but the way I saw you looking at each other…”

Ethanial trailed off, his gaze going onto the floor before he continued to speak.

“And Lux has, from time to time, tried to teach me some of Noxus’ history, which, I’ve got to admit, caught me a bit off guard. To sum it up, I added two and two together, I just didn’t think you would admit it so quickly.”

The boy’s eyes were on the ground again, so Darius lifted his head up a bit roughly, grabbing him by the chin and staring into the blue he knew so well.

“You had a right to know. That’s my opinion. So yeah, there you have it. I am your father, and I’m proud that I am. I’m proud of you.”

He let go of his grip, leaving a slight mark on the boy’s chin, which he rubbed absentmindedly.

There was more silence, while they both inspected each other.

“Do you love her?” He asked, maybe catching Darius off guard, but he didn’t show it if it did.

“Yes.” He answered automatically, but truthfully. “Yet you understand we can’t be together and raise a child, right?”

“You take me for a fool.” The boy sounded older for a second, and more mature. “I thought I’d proven myself with this discovery.”

“I’m not taking you for anything. Just making sure you understand the reasons we did what we did.”

Ethanial got up and began stretching, lazily dragging his now heavier upper body, making it perform the same warm up activities it had been accustomed to do, but his father didn’t follow him, he just watched him do it.

“Does she love you back?” When he got no answer, Ethanial simply shrug and turned around, a wide smirk spread on his face. “Yeah, I never understood the thing with Ezreal either. What do you think they are?”

“A couple.” Darius answered, grabbing his axe and swinging it expertly, watching closely as the boy faced him, still with a slight glimmer in his eyes.

“And you’re ok with that?”

“Yes.”

There was a slight pause before the boy picked up his sword.

“I don’t get you. Why?”

“I could never be with Lux. Not in the way I want at least. So why not let someone who can, have her?”

Ethanial shrugged before continuing to speak. “I’ve seen the way she looks at Ezreal and it’s not even close to the way she looks at you.”

“People want what they can’t have. It would be the other way round if she couldn’t have him.”

“You’re stupid.” The boy huffed finally. His eyes were narrowed and his brow was furrowed as he spat those words out, as if they were the vilest thing ever.

“Excuse me!?” Darius raised his voice slightly, gripping his axe tighter in his hands.

“You heard me. You and Lux. You’re stupid.”

“We are, now, huh?” The Noxian relaxed, a gentle grin forming in the corner of his mouth as he joked.

“You should fight for your love.”

“You are definitely your mother’s son.”

Ethanial’s brow creased some more and he looked defiantly at his father.

“I’m your son, too!” He answered, the sword in his hand now more present all of a sudden.

“Well then, prove it to me. Stop saying stupid things and fight me. Do your training.”

There was a moment of silence before the boy breathed in a heavy sigh. The younger licked his lips, his eyes burning with a defiant fire in them.

“You know what.” He whispered, arrogantly straightening his back and looking deeply into Darius’ face. “I don’t care what you think. You don’t deserve my mother.”

“As if you could decide who does or who doesn’t deserve Lux.” The General spat, his eyes narrowing, threatening. “The only one who can is her. So, shut up and fight me.”

The boy looked at him in disgust, before staring at his sword for a good twenty seconds.

“No. I won’t shut up.” And with that, he threw his weapon to the floor and stormed off out of the training room, muttering curses to himself.

The Noxian sighed, dragging a hand over his face, annoyed. A mild sense of dread and discomfort had arisen in him, but he tried to push it away by putting his axe and the other’s sword away. He calmly took his armour off and walked out of the training room, the nagging feeling of something bad about to happen still making his brain go dizzy.

He’d made his decision. He ran his shacking hands through his hair and swallowed hard. Ethanial made his way to the canteen, ready for the performance of a life time. It was midday, and a small growl erupted from his stomach. When he opened the doors, he was greeted by champions, who smiled at him warmly. They’d known him ever since he was a baby, but he was convinced they didn’t really know him.

His whole fucking life had been a lie.

Someone patted his back, Ekko tried to fist bump him and Jinx pushed past him as she was running in the opposite direction. Nothing mattered. Ethanial was spaced out, unsure if what he was about to do was the right thing or not.

It didn’t fucking matter.

‘You have a right to know.’ Darius’ words echoed in his head.

‘They have a right to know.’ He thought, clenching his teeth and finally deciding it was for the best.

“Hey, you okay?” Ekko whispered, trying to grab his arm but Ethanial shook him away, ready to do what had to be done.

The boy walked to the closest table he could find and jumped onto it, forcing plates and glasses out of his way.

“Hey, watch it, you shitty-!” Someone said, but the younger one shut him up when he used all of his magical ability to throw a spark of light into the air, forcing everyone’s attention on him.

“Listen up!” He panted, exhausted by that little outburst of magic. His capabilities were limited, he knew. Maybe it was the serious look he had on his face or maybe it was his little performance but suddenly everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at him. “I am not who you think I am.”

“Is he coming out as gay or something?” Jayce joked in a whisper, not that interested in what the boy was about to say. Caitlyn, who was sitting next to him, elbowed him and the man rolled his eyes. “Sorry, sorry.”

“You all think you know me.” The boy began, turning around himself to make sure everyone’s eyes were on him. “You’ve seen me grow up, change, mature. You all know me as the son of Ezreal and Lux, but I’m about to reveal the ugly truth.”

He met with piercing eyes as he searched their faces. He found looks of interest, others of boredom and some of amusement. He was about to open his mouth when the doors of the canteen swung open and Katarina entered, followed by Draven. The Noxian woman and the boy stared at each other, her eyes piercing his face, trying to figure out what was going on. Everyone was now focused on the new scene, wandering why they were both silent now.

“Ethanial…” Kat muttered, taking a few steps closer, annoyed he was about to steal her spotlight. She would not let this happen. She had worked so hard to find out the truth and now she was about to have her moment taken away from her right under her eyes. “Don’t you dare!” She snarled at him, taking a few steps forward as she quickly took out one of her daggers.

Before either of them could react, they heard a familiar voice croak out his name.

“Ethanial?” Lux’s face was pale. She was holding a platter in both hands, which were now shaking visibly. “What is going on?” She’d just appeared from getting her food in line and hadn’t heard anything of what he had previously said.

“Mother.” He muttered, turning around and looking at her, his face showing how troubled he was feeling. “I know.”

“You know?” She questioned, her eyebrows raised. “You know what?”

“Darius is my father.” He quickly blurted out, only to regret it immediately when he saw his mother’s reaction.

The platter was the first thing to hit the floor. The crashing sound resonated more than his words as food was scattered all over the place. The next thing to fall was the limp body of a blonde light mage.

Ethanial watched as champions went to aid his fainted mother and he was about to go after her when he felt a dagger at his throat.

“And I thought you were good.” She hissed, pressing it slightly against his neck. She was so absurdly and uncontrollably angry she didn’t recognise herself. On the verge of killing a child over a silly thing like uncovering the truth?

The commotion had already started. There was an uproar in the canteen and the boy’s head started spinning as he felt her hands on his shoulder and her weapon about to slit his throat. But somehow, his eyes were wide and watching closely as Lux was hoisted up by Graves while Sona was trying to wake her up. The utter horror he felt was only intensified when he saw Garen push his way towards her and started shaking her while he screamed at her.

“HOW COULD YOU DO THIS?” He shouted, tears in his eyes as he looked at his unresponsive sister. “HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO DEMACIA? HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO YOUR FAMILY? TO YOUR OWN BROTHER?”

The dagger pressed harder against his throat, the pain finally forcing him to focus on Katarina’s shacking hand holding the weapon and spitting in anger behind him. Two hands enveloped his body and the pressure against his neck was gone as he was grabbed by Leona and lowered onto the floor. His heart was beating fast in his chest as he looked at the furious Sinister Blade as she was forced kicking and snarling by a very patient Braum, stroking her head and whispering for her to calm down.

“Have you any idea what I had to do to figure it out, you little brat!?” She glared at him, her gaze boring into his.

Meanwhile, Darius got up, shoving his plate away. He got intercepted by Swain, who gently hit him with his cane on his arm as the General was about to leave.

“Is this true, General?” he asked, an eyebrow raised.

He grunted a response and tried to get through, but LeBlanc appeared out of nowhere, a dark smile on her lips as she leaned against him.

“You really did get that bitch pregnant!” She laughed, a hand covering her mouth as she did.

“Don’t call her a bitch!” Darius tried shoving her aside but she disappeared and reappeared on his other side, a smirk still prominent on her face.

“You’re only defending her because she gave you that rut.” She laughed and rolled her eyes at him. “But that explains why you were… unavailable…”

“YO! Darius!” Draven had made his way to his brother, a frown on his features. “This is the reason why condoms exist, you know? Fucking use them! We don’t want to get the enemy pregnant. Except maybe if it’s a tactical plan you haven’t told us, then it’s brilliant!”

The General finally pushed past them, not wanting to respond to anything, just in case he made the situation worse. Except he couldn’t come up with a worse scenario than the chaos that had just been caused by his irrational son.

‘And to think I thought he was smart…’ He growled to himself, pushing past champions as he fought to get to Lux. Ethanial was carried away as he passed him.

LeBlanc chuckled as she stared at Darius make his way past the crowd.

“You know, it’s one thing that he got her pregnant, but it’s even worse that he loves her.”

“Oh, please, don’t be daft. He doesn’t love her. C’mon, it’s Darius we’re talking about.” Swain commented, leaning on his cane.

“You’re getting old for matters of the heart.” The dark mage snickered. “Or you’re very blind. You choose.”

“Wait a second… I’m an uncle!” It finally dawned on Draven, who smacked his forehead with his hand. “I owe the little kid like… a billion presents…”

“It will be even funnier when they remember the other child.” LeBlanc muttered, turning away from the Executioner.

“How so?” Swain muttered, his face showing how troubled he was about the situation.

“That one’s Ezreal’s. How will the people take to that?” She smirked at him before disappearing.

Lux was dragged off to the hospital, seeing as she was still unconscious. Darius groaned, watching as she was taken away.

Ezreal had been staring at the scene from the distance, still sitting at the table, a fork in his hand. He hadn’t realised what the boy had been about to do, so he hadn’t had enough time to react. But when he heard those words, and after Lux’s reaction, he knew what it meant. He got up quickly, huffed, and, not knowing what to do, exited the canteen. He knew if he didn’t move, he’d be interrogated or harassed or whatever, and that’s the last thing he wanted.

Outside, the explorer started running. He didn’t know where to, but his feet started moving, taking him away. Tears sprung to his eyes and his hands started shaking as they tried to wipe the droplets away. What had first started as soft sobbing soon intensified and he was forced to come to a stop, his body trembling. He knew he had to do something.

Leona let Ethanial go, who started panting and quickly raised his hands to his neck. Luckily Katarina hadn’t drawn blood and he sighed before remembering the mess he’d caused. He shouldn’t have opened his mouth.

Looking around him in dread, he tried to figure out his next move. He bit his lower lip nervously and shoved his way past the people that were trying to get him to answer their questions. When he was finally outside, he felt like a huge weight had been removed from his shoulders, but champions started spilling out, wanting to know as much as they could. Frightened, the boy blinded a curious Cassiopeia before running towards his house. His room. He needed to get to his safe spot. He needed…

Panting, he nearly collapsed against the closed door of his room. His head hit the wood and his chest was still heaving when he growled in frustration.

Why!? Why had he even thought that telling the world that Darius was his father would be a good idea!? Why hadn’t he thought it through? Why hadn’t he thought of the consequences? Why was he so stupid?

A strangled scream escaped his lips as he threw himself against the bed and started punching and kicking it until tears started falling down his cheeks.

He wasn’t just angry at himself. At his own stupid actions. No, his chest was bubbling with all sorts of emotions. Hatred, rage, betrayal, resentment… He couldn’t even name most of what he was feeling.

Images of his past flooded his brain, forcing out even more tears. His only option was to force his face into his pillow, which also helped with the quite difficult task of quieting his shrieking voice.

He thought of Lux, of how he’d always trusted her and let her guide him and teach him. He thought of Ezreal, and how he’d been there for him, played the father figure, listened to him and… embarrassed, Ethanial’s face flushed when he remembered the day he’d asked him some pretty weird teenage questions. Because he thought he was his dad and he thought he could trust him.

But then, he heard a noise. He lifted his head and got up from the bed, shaking hands trying to dry the tears as his gaze fell on the amulet, the golden glimmer catching his eye. Without thinking about it, Ethanial rushed to it as if it had ordered him to, and raised his shaking hands to grab it. As soon as his fingers gingerly touched it, a bolt of electricity raised up his spine and an alarm went off in his brain.

‘Hello Ethanial.’ A voice called, and he wasn’t sure where it was coming from. He was tempted to let go of the amulet, but it felt so good in his hands. Warm and comforting. Just like what he needed right now. ‘So you’ve finally discovered the truth. I am here to guide you.’

“What?” the boy whispered, his head moving from side to side, trying to localize where the voice was coming from, although by now he was pretty sure it was coming from the amulet he held tightly in his hands.

‘You are confused, yes?’ the voice said, and Ethanial gently nodded, not sure if it mattered if he answered anyway. ‘I will solve all your problems.’

“How?” He asked, unsure. The warmth from his hands was starting to spread all over his body. His breathing intensified and his eyes closed, a light grin appearing on his face.

‘You are scared, as well. You are angry, sad, torn. I will help you. Put me on.’

The boy raised his hands and took a better look at the amulet. He sighed but clumsily dragged the gold chain over his neck and let it fall against his chest. As soon as it hit his skin and secured itself in place, Ethanial’s world went dark. His breathing got caught in his throat and he was forced to his knees, as everything started to shake around him.

‘Relax. It will all be over soon.’ The voice said.

The boy managed to start breathing again, but he shut his eyes closed and clenched his teeth, the dizziness not going away. When everything stopped spinning he raised his head and had a look around him.

He was in a place he’d never been before and couldn’t recognise. He slowly got up, and headed towards a figure hiding in the dark.

“Good boy.” The voice whispered, a hand reaching out to ruffle Ethanial’s hair. His apprehension left his body as he melted into the caress, his own fingers gently touching the amulet, the feeling soothing his soul.

Lux finally awoke in a hospital room a few minutes after she’d been taken in. She got up immediately, still shaken, but was forced to lay down again by a very calm Soraka. Sona was the other person in the room with her.

“Calm down, light mage, please.” The goat woman pleaded, patting her head soothingly.

“What… What’s going to happen?” Lux cried out, tears forming in her eyes as she looked at the two women.

“Nothing good, I’m afraid.” Soraka answered, patting her hand and looking into her eyes with concern. “How are you feeling?”

“How do you think? I need to get away from here! Where’s Ethanial?”

“I’m not sure. He ran away shortly after you fainted.”

“Ethanial…” Lux sighed, silent tears now flowing steadily.

“I SAID LET ME IN!”

“I can’t do that! I’ve been ordered to not let anyone in until she’s feeling better.” Janna was trying to reason with the screaming voice.

“I HEARD HER TALKING, I’M GOING IN.” Seconds later the door was broken down and Garen ran towards his sister, despair written on his features.

“Hello brother.” It came out bitterer than she’d intended, but she knew what was coming next.

“HOW DARE YOU.” He screamed, shoving past Soraka to look at Lux in the eyes. He was tempted to grab her by the wrists, but was scared he might break her. “HOW DARE YOU FUCK DARIUS?”

“How stupid do you think I am, brother?” She snorted, laughing bitterly in his face. “YOU fuck Katarina. And, here’s the difference: everyone fucking knows.”

“YOU BORE HIM A SON, LUXANNA. DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS?”

She stared at him in anger and quickly raised a hand to slap his face.

“STOP treating me like a child. I am not a baby. I am not stupid!” She shouted at him, her face red.

“After what you’ve done, I actually highly doubt every word you’ve just said.” He commented, his voice much lower than before, showing a much calmer Garen. His own hand raised to where he’d been slapped and he leaned towards her. “You’ve dishonoured the Crownguard family. To heck with that, you’ve dishonoured the whole of Demacia.”

“You HYPOCRITE!” The tears returned to her eyes again and her voice started shaking. “How dare you say that when YOU have been toying around with that Noxian tart? How dare YOU act like this?”

“I’m not the one that’s acted like a whore.” Garen spat, shoving himself apart from Lux and looking at her in disgust.

“The only difference in the way we’ve acted is the fact that you’re a man. So it’s not frowned at for you. You’re actually praised for fucking Kat.” Lux cried, smashing her fists against the bed. “But it’s always been like that. I have to be a lady while you can fuck around like a man.”

For a moment, Garen was silent. He watched as his sister bawled her eyes out and pity filled his chest.

“And it will always be like that. Just because I’m a woman.”

“A woman with a big problem. That little mongrel will cause a war.”

“How can you say that? He’s your family! You love him!” Lux whined.

“Used to. Now I’m not so sure. He’s tainted.”

“What changed? The fact that you knew?” She snorted, looking at him in disgust. “I’m discovering some very horrible things about you, Garen.”

“And I too, sister.” The pity he’d felt in his chest soon turned into disgust again. “Do you love him?”

“What? Of course I do! He is my SON.”

“Not Ethanial. Darius. The fucking cheating traitor.”

She was left speechless as he adjusted his posture and crossed his arms. When she didn’t respond, he sighed in defeat, knowing what that meant.

“I see.”

“Garen, I think you should leave. All you’ve done is say harsh words. Your sister needed you and this is what you did to her.” Soraka said, caressing Lux’s head.

“No, she did this to herself. But yes, I will leave.” He slowly turned around and started walking away. “Luxanna… just wait until Mum and Dad get the news.”

“Goodbye brother.”

The light mage frowned as she saw him leave the room, closing the broken door behind him, as best as he could.

Ezreal barged in, clearly unhappy about something. He noticed the broken door and asked himself who’d made that mess, Darius or Garen. Deciding he didn’t care, he walked over to where Lux was and looked into her blue eyes. The eyes he was sure he knew better than his own palm. The woman he thought he knew better than anyone. The woman he’d shared sixteen years of his life with. Sure, he still looked young, but now he felt betrayed. Looking at her face made him ponder if he actually still loved her.

‘Of course you do, you fool.’ He told himself. ‘Because you really couldn’t be any more stupid.’

“So” He begun, discarding the thoughts trying to make their way into his mind. He felt relieved that they were alone in the room, for he was about to say some very questionable things. “Did Darius rape you, Lux?”

She sighed. She knew this was coming. She deserved it, though. She knew all of this had to happen, she just didn’t want it to happen.

“Or maybe, you know, MAYBE” Suddenly his voice was tainted with bitterness, and for a second she thought she saw a much older Ezreal looking right back at her. “Maybe it wasn’t rape, yeah? Maybe you actually wanted to fuck him?”

Lux swallowed. With Garen, she could retort him anything, throw all his shit back at him, but to Ezreal? He’d been with her always, for everything. She did feel very cruel about the way she’d treated him.

“I don’t know, Lux!” He screamed, his tone now showing all of his despair. “I don’t know what to feel. Do you love him? Do you think HE DOES? You know, maybe it was rape, and maybe it was one time and maybe you just lied because you couldn’t live with the truth, but I’m having a hard time believing that now. So you fucked him.”

He made a weird sound, a mixture between a laugh that had got caught in his throat and a sob. He turned around, sighing. He wasn’t expecting an answer from her, he wanted to keep talking, to get those bubbling thoughts off of his mind.

“You fucked him. Was it once? Twice? Or maybe he was more than just a fuck. Maybe you fucking love him.” He scoffed, and then he laughed dryly. All the time, he watched her. He watched as she flinched with every word he said, but right now, her feelings didn’t matter to him. “And that’s when I ask myself, what am I to you?”

And again, she kept quiet, just biting her lip and staring into his eyes. She saw them sparkle in anger and what looked like disappointment.

“WHAT AM I TO YOU, LUX? Am I just a loser you fooled into being with you to take care of your bastard child? Am I just the guy you fuck when he can’t be bothered to have sex with you? WHAT AM I TO YOU? Or do you even care? How stupid do you think I am? Well, fuck me, I must be really retarded because you fucking tricked me and toyed around with me FOR YEARS. You know what, Lux? I would have followed you to the end of the world and back. That’s how much I loved you. And you fucking pissed on my love.”

Silent tears were now falling down her face but he continued speaking, his voice slowly getting higher.

“To Hell with that, you laughed in my face and you used me. I just can’t believe it.”

Ezreal had never been a violent person. Sure, he fought in the League but it wasn’t in his nature. Yet, out of anger, he punched the wall with all the strength he could master. It hurt so much he nearly saw stars, but instead of shouting, a light moan escaped his lips. He squeezed his eyes shut as his fist started throbbing and when he looked down at it, he noticed it was bleeding.

It wasn’t just anger he was feeling. It was hurt. So much of it. And to top it off, the person he loved, the person he thought loved him back was just staring at him in silence.

“And here comes another question.” His voice was shaking now, and he couldn’t tell if it was the pain in his hand, the tears begging to be released or the anger that was shaking his whole being but he managed to choke out those last words. “Is Candella mine or is she also Darius’?

“She… she’s yours.” She sobbed, her eyes surely red. So many tears were coming out she couldn’t see, her vision was all blurry. She didn’t want to see, anyway. Her companion, the man she thought was her lover was in a rage because of her. Of course she felt wretched.

“And how would I know if that’s true?” Again, bitterness tainted his words, but the anger and resentment were still there. “How can I fucking know if you’re not lying to me again, Lux?”

“It’s… it’s not a lie.” She whispered in between hiccups.

He hurried over to her bed and placed both his hands on each side of her pillow, staining it with his blood. He stood inches away from her face, trying to find the lie in her eyes. All he could see was pain.

“Then what is, Lux?” He spoke this time, not wanting to scare her into not answering. “Is your love for him a lie? Maybe it’s your love for me?”

“I… I love you both!” She sobbed and he snorted at her.

“Cut the act.” He grunted, pushing away from her. He still looked at her, disgust plainly written on his features. “And here’s another question. How do you think I feel? Do you even CARE?”

“Of course I care, Ezreal. I love you” She said, forcing herself to not cry through the sentence.

“I can’t take you seriously. I can’t believe you. I can’t do it. How would you be, in my position? You figure out the mother of your daughter has been fucking around with this man… and not just any man. A fucking Noxian. You know how much I hate those guys.”

“Darius isn’t who you think he is. He’s got a lovely heart.”

“My guess is he’s just got a huge cock.” Ezreal spat at her, but he’d calmed down slightly. Her words... he still believed her. He still thought she loved him.

“Lux?” Darius voice sounded rough as he knocked on the door.

“Come in.” She called from the inside, but the Noxian heard a whine which he assumed came from Ezreal. He entered and wasn’t surprised to see the explorer pacing up and down the room, his hand bloody, his hair ruffled.

“Bad day?” The General joked, a smirk spreading on his features. He wasn’t sure what had triggered his comment, maybe it was the actual fact that it had been the shittiest day he’d had in probably twenty years, or maybe it was due to a certain rivalry feeling he wasn’t sure he should feel or not.

“Bad day!?” Ezreal shouted at him, walking straight up to him, to stare deep into his eyes. The teenager looked slightly deranged as he screamed “GO FUCK YOURSELF.”

“I would answer with the obvious” Darius started, nodding his head in Lux’s direction, maybe to provoke the younger some more. “But I’ve something important to say.”

“What are you waiting for, then?” The girl raised her voice, a horrid feeling creeping up her chest.

“Ethanial has disappeared.”

“I might not be invited to this party.” A woman appeared in the room, her body leaning on the door frame, an amused spark tainting her otherwise monotone voice. “But I have some information I believe you will much appreciate.”

“LeBlanc!” Ezreal muttered, bearing his teeth. The day just kept getting better and better.

“The boy’s in Noxus.”

[caelenath]

Sweet Child of Thine - chapter 6

What I thought would be the last chapter of this fic turned out to be enough material for two or three. Er, oops. 

This one is a bit of an indulgence, where the scenery doesn’t exactly “advance the plot” as I know I ought to be doing, but I loved it too much to leave it out. So guess what? All my readers get it too! =D Alas though, despite being the best suited for a pretty chapter image, I didn’t have time to make one. =(

Comments welcome, as always. Cross-posted to AO3, FFnet, and caelenath.com.

Length: 1639 Warnings: concerns child abduction Chapter summary: It had been a long time since Mirloc's homeworld heard the laughter of a child.

- - -

6. fireglass

If only he had been a second faster, he could be bringing Sky home right now. If he had just paid attention instead of running blindly, he could be holding his son in his arms instead of standing here empty-handed, slumped against the squad car while he listened to Nate report their failed rescue like it was a temporary victory rather than the utter disaster it had actually been.

It is a victory, Nate said firmly. The crapshoot lead had turned out to be good, and now they knew that Sky was not only alive, but unharmed, if the strength of his cries had been anything to go by. Still, all Jay could think about was how far his captor would surely run with him now, a captor who could apparently disappear at will. All Nate had seen when he reached the room was a flash of light in the window pane.

Jay didn't realize he was rubbing his forehead until Nate looked over and asked a little sharply, "You okay?"

Truthfully, the throbbing in his head was nothing compared to the weight of the guilt he felt. He dropped his hand, hoping Nate would drop the subject. "I'm fine."

Nate watched him a few seconds longer, his expression becoming more sympathetic. "You want me to tell Madelaine?"

Jay shook his head. He couldn't be so much of a coward that he was afraid to tell his own wife when he had failed. "I'll do it."

"Okay."

Of course, Madelaine told him the same thing Nate had. She also added, "At least Sky knows you're looking for him now. Hearing your voice always did make him feel braver."

It was true, though the word she usually used was 'reckless.' Either way, the thought did make Jay feel an iota better.

"So what happens now?" Madelaine asked.

"We keep looking out for leads. And we'll have Kat examine the clues we found in the house."

"What kind of clues?"

"The forcefield generator, for one. We also found Sky's shielding device left behind." Madelaine sucked in her breath at the other end of the line, and Jay hurried to add the better news. "We also found food and blankets and books, and even a toy. Whoever this person is, I don't think they—I mean they're not…they seem to be taking care of him for now."

"That's good," Madelaine said after a long pause, but her voice was strained.

"What's wrong?"

"What if that means they plan to keep him? There's been no ransom, no demands."

"Then we keep looking." The words came out sharper than he intended them to, fueled as they were by more denial than confidence, and he immediately apologized for snapping at her.

"It's okay," Madelaine said. But it wasn't. He hadn't considered that someone who went to the trouble of caring for a kidnapped child would actually want to keep them. The idea was almost as horrifying as the thought of someone hurting Sky.

Jay closed his eyes.

Almost.

They got off the phone, but the little tremble in Madelaine's voice when she said goodbye made his guilt and the pain in his head redouble. He rubbed his forehead again and didn't care what Nate thought or said about it.

Wisely, Nate took over the wheel when they were finally leaving the house, but Jay quickly noticed he was not heading in the direction of the Delta Base.

"Where are you going?"

"Your place."

"What? Why? We need to get this stuff to Kat."

"Which I will. Madelaine needs you right now, even if just for a second."

Jay knew better than to try to argue in his present state of mind. He also knew better than to admit Nate was right, even when he saw the relief in Madelaine's eyes as soon as he opened the door. Nate was the type who would never let him forget it.

* * *

Fireglass. So named for its ability to repel the heat of three suns. The cities of Mirloc's homeworld were made with great sheets of the stuff, whole walls and domed roofs stained in different hues to control the light. But it was not from one of these that Mirloc emerged because fireglass had one other unusual property—his kind could not travel through it. The original smiths must have realized that such boundaries were necessary to protect a society from itself, and even Mirloc, who hated limits of any kind, grudgingly agreed.

He emerged instead from a metal fragment half-buried in the sand outside the city walls, and the child immediately squinted in the intense brightness, raising one small hand to shield his eyes. Compared to the bleached desert sky, they were practically luminous. The sunbaked sand was too hot for his bare feet, so Mirloc found a shaded area beneath a protruding rampart in which to put him down. But that was not sufficient for long either. Within minutes, the boy was ruddy and drenched in sweat from the relentless heat.

They moved inside one of the common buildings, which like the rest of the city had been so thoroughly invaded by the sands that the crossing from outdoors to in was marked only by the steep drop in temperature. The child ran ahead more freely here, reveling in the immense space and the abundant fine, almost silky, grains beneath his feet. Jewel-colored sunbeams from the mosaic roof dappled the ground and he made a game of them, leaping from one to the next.

Mirloc envied his simple mind and easy distraction. For him, the very air was an assault of memories. To keep them at bay, he focused on forming a plan for that evening's rendezvous. His acquaintance was not as well-versed in the art of double dealing as he, though given the choice, he would prefer to keep their acquaintanceship amicable. Only a fool set out to make enemies, just as the competent couldn't avoid them. If it were a matter of price, he could produce the means, but he found it inconceivable that whoever wanted this boy was merely after money.

Perhaps that was a boon. Now that he was committed to protecting this boy's future, he found himself hard-pressed to name a price he found too high.

They passed into an even grander chamber, the true atrium of the building. It was filled with sandstone sculptures of beasts and mythic figures, the largest of which graced the corners and soared to the ceiling where they appeared to hold the glass roof aloft with their massive arms or tusks.

The child squeaked as he stared at one beast that could not be mistaken for anything other than a predator. The carved talons and teeth had somehow maintained their sharp apices, and the sculptor had used fireglass for the eyes so that they glittered at the beholder like a real beast's would. Mirloc narrowed the distance between himself and the boy, knowing that the immense statuary were more fragile than they looked. After standing undisturbed in the arid, still air for millennia, a single moist breath from an unaware sprat could reduce them to the dust from which they were made—and bury that sprat along with it.

"Come over here, boy." He herded the child towards kinder-looking figures, but they failed to hold his interest. Instead, he toddled up to a toppled stone head in the middle of the room, and after poking it in the nose, of which it had plenty, he scaled it with surprising agility and went rolling down the hill of sand that had built up behind it.

His gleeful giggles transformed the room in an instant. The air seemed to gladden and the gloom lifted from the many shadows. Even the dourest faces watching them in silence seemed less grim.

Around and around the boy ran to climb up and tumble down again, his laughter growing more breathless with each turn. Finally, he rolled his last and did not get up again. He lay where he landed, tired but content, and eventually his panting gave way to tender snores that guaranteed he would wake with a mouthful of sand.

As much as Mirloc wanted to explore his homeworld unencumbered, he didn't dare leave the child alone. Already the boy's warm human flesh and fragrant blood were attracting unsavory creatures—needle-tailed arachnids, wide-jawed asps, and sharp-footed arthropods that were not carnivorous, but were unpleasant all the same. The mercenary sat nearby and deterred them with a stick or his leg while he gave in to reverie to pass the time. The creatures did not find his flesh quite as sweet.

Later, when the boy did in fact wake up with a sandy tongue, they braved the desert suns once more so that Mirloc could show him one of the trees he had spoken about—a squat, thick-trunked flora with a single wide tuft of greenery at its crown. It perpetually smelled like it was burning, but its trunk held a watery sweet nectar that was easy to obtain. He gouged a deep line with his nails, then showed the boy how to sample the nectar with his finger. It was clear on his young face when the taste registered.

"These are our sweet trees," the mercenary said, which of course was not their real name, and even calling it a "tree" was generous, but for his current audience, it sufficed. Children of his own kind used to be taught this same lesson, albeit at an older age, as a matter of common knowledge and survival strategy should they find themselves caught in the desert wilds.

He deepened the line further so that the boy might adequately wash the sand from his mouth, but he also needed real water—and yet more food—and so it was time to leave.

[bladed-apathy]

Your description of Talon "ORPHANED TWICE" hit me in the feels, HOW DARE ;^; also, do you think he'd be able to handle it if a third person tried to take him in? Or if Kat left him behind? (I kinda ship Talon x Kat but as BroTP, so I think there's a bit of fondness in their relationship maybe if you squint? XD) (happy new year lmao

XD Sorry anon! I mean, it’s true though. My Talon saw the General as the father he never had, and losing him would have hurt more than anything. This response is going to be pretty long, so I’m putting it below the cut!

First of all, thanks for the question! I love getting asked stuff like this! I’m going to break this response up into chunks to prevent me from going on too many tangents lol

1/ Do you think he’d be able to handle it if a third person tried to take him in?

I don’t think I would be concerned with how long it would take Talon to feel comfortable to allow someone to take him in, but how long he could last being alone in the world before he snapped. Talon is not a leader. He is a servant, a tool, a son. In many ways, he is still the same as the 13 year old child the General found all those years ago. He understands what it’s like to be by himself, but he could never cope being truly alone.

Talon needs somebody above him telling him what to do. When left to his own devices and without orders, he can often find himself drifting and that’s when he falls into states of deep depression.

The only thing keeping Talon going right now is the thought that the General might still be alive. That’s what’s giving him the motivation to keep searching and keep living honestly. As soon as Talon can confirm that the General is dead (and then avenge him), he will look to move on and find a new master. His standards are very high though. He will only bow to those more powerful then he is, and people like that are in short supply.

2/ Or if Kat left him behind?

Personally, I don’t think Talon and Kat have a very strong relationship in the present time. I think that when they were younger they would have been relatively close, but as the years went on they grew more and more distant as their work demanded very different things from the both of them.

I think Talon secretly feels guilt towards Katarina, and that’s why he can’t face her often. Guilt that he hasn’t found her father, and all that nonsense. I think if Katarina left Talon or kicked him out of the family officially, Talon would move on fairly quickly.

I ship them almost always as a BroTP, but I wanted to write my own Talon a bit differently. I get where you’re coming from though! Two kids with a missing father would almost definitely drift towards one other for comfort of support. It’s just that I’ve seen this relationship portrayed like that so many times, and just felt like writing something different, ya know?

I think there’d be a lot of admiration and respect in their relationship. Katarina, because her little brother has become so big and strong, and Talon because his big sister has coped so well without her dad and is filling in his shoes so well.

Aight that’s enough tangents from me. Thanks for the questions, and happy new year to you as well!

[tacticalgrandma]

"ooh it's chilly out" - spiderbyte // "i got a rock" sombra/gabe // "want to trade candy?" team talon

AO3 | Prompts List

Comments/kudos/reblogs will make me love you!

It had not been overly difficult to hijack the cargo ship. The Shimadas were not the arms traffickers they once were, and there had just been a shoestring crew that Widowmaker easily dispensed with. And that same scant roster meant that the AI pilot was already running, and Sombra simply needed to change the coordinates and the Southern Europe Talon HQ was fully supplied with all the guns, ammunition, and biochemical weapons they needed.

Until, of course, they opened the cargo compartment.

“Are they decoys?” Akande asked, staring at the boxes of candy that filled up the space.

Widow, who was sitting on top of one of the stacks, looked up from her box of Nerds and shook her head. “It was a two hour trip. I checked all of them. Unless they’re hiding shells in Skittles packages, there’s nothing.”

“I don’t understand,” Akande whispered. Sombra walked past him and caught the Snickers that Widow tossed her way.

“Manifest said that they were going to unload in Texas. The war with Deadlock has cut off a lot of trade to the Southwest. My guess is the Shimadas were looking to make money smuggling candy in time for Halloween.”

“It could work,” Widow said. “We might be able to turn this around if we deliver this to whoever the Shimadas’ contact was.”

“We don’t need money, we need weapons.”

“Money can be used to buy weapons.”

“Thank you for that economics lesson, Sombra, but the Shimadas could still ambush us at the drop, and we have no intel on the contact–��� Akande heard the sounds of boots on the staircase behind him and drew a hand over his face. Reaper ducked through the doorway and stared at the scene– Sombra flicking through a map of shipping routes with one hand and rooting through a box of flavored Kit Kats with the other; Widow tipping a small cardboard box upside down into her mouth, a candy necklace around her neck.

“This is not shotguns,” he said. Akande sighed.

“We had bad intel on the contents of the ship.” Reaper said nothing, but Akande could still feel the waves of judgment coming off him, and he grit his teeth. “Alright. This was a low-cost mission. We’re going to chalk this up as a drill, dump the cargo, and start looking for a proper target.”

“Wait wait wait.” Sombra snapped the map shut and stared at him wide-eyed. “Why do we have to dump it? It’s perfectly good candy.”

Akande gestured around the fairly spacious room. “It’s a ridiculous amount, Sombra. I am not exposing Talon agents to transport M&Ms.”

“Okay first of all, they have Sour Patch Kids in here. Second of all, you’re buff–“

“No,” Reaper said flatly. Sombra made an inarticulate noise of frustration and Akande turned to him, raising an eyebrow.

“Usually you humor her more than this.” Reaper ignored Sombra’s second squawk, this one more indignant, and turned to him as well, lowering his voice.

“You do not want to let them do this.”

“What if we just took whatever we could carry?” Widow said from her perch. She shrugged when Akande looked up at her. “They have Kinder eggs here.”

“Ogundimu. Listen to me. This is a very bad idea.” Akande bit his lip, looked between his most valuable and sensible agent, and his vaguely untrustworthy and frequently passive aggressive fellow executive, and made up his mind.

“You can each take one box,” he announced. Sombra whooped, Widow smiled, and Reaper growled under his breath. “And if there are any Twix, let me know.”

-

“I told you this was a bad idea,” Reaper said the next day.

Akande leaned against the balcony railing and watched in dismay as Sombra yet again grappling hooked herself into a cafeteria wall. She broke her fall by translocating down to Widow who was, in a deeply uncharacteristic display, attempting to backflip across all the tables.

“We’re sure nothing was spiked? This is really just a sugar high?” Next to him, Reaper sighed.

“Every year at Overwatch,” he said. His tone of voice suggested that if he had normal eyeballs, he would be performing a thousand yard stare. “Every year, Lieutenant Wilhelm would give the Amari girl half a candy store for Halloween. Every year, the entire base would grind to a halt as we tried to contain the whirlwind of chaos he had unleashed.”

“Still. They’re grown women,” he said. Widow was now attempting to showcase her accuracy by throwing Swedish Fish into Sombra’s mouth. “You’d think they’d be able to self-regulate.” Absentmindedly, he fished a Twix bar out of his pocket and began to unwrap it.

Reaper looked sideways at him. “How many of those have you had?”

“Look, just make sure they don’t break anything,” Akande said. “And remind them that the acquisitions meeting is in two days.” Reaper shook his head as Akande pivoted and power walked back to his office.

-

Two days later, Akande walked into the conference room to see Reaper sitting with his hands folded, and Widow and Sombra sitting with their heads flopped down on the table. Akande rubbed at his temple, tried to ignore his buzzing headache, and cleared his throat.

“Right. Sombra. Have you had any luck identifying potential targets?” Without looking, Sombra raised her palm, projected a web browser, and typed “free guns” into Google. Akande sighed as he sat down.

“I expected better from you,” he said to Widow. She groaned apathetically in response.

“Really,” Reaper said, and Akande tried not to wince at the sound of his voice. “Did you finish your entire boxes?” Sombra and Widow both made grumbling noises. “I cannot believe you two. That should have lasted a month. You could have at least spread it out enough so that you would be awake for this meeting.”

“Hey, wait, yeah,” Sombra said. “Akande. Why don’t you give us some of your candy. Hair of the dog that bit you. That’ll work.”

“No,” Akande said. His brain felt very heavy.

“Come on. Don’t you want us to be productive?”

“I can’t,” he said slowly.

“Why not?”

Akande considered responding verbally but opted for dropping forward onto the table, onto his folded arms. Widow reached over and tapped at his shoulder. He laid his head on its side to face her. She shook her head as best she could without lifting it.

“I know,” he said quietly. “I know.” Reaper cleared his throat.

“Okay, if I’m the only one functional at this meeting…”

“Hang on. That’s true,” Sombra said. “Why didn’t you take any, Gabe? When I was going through old Overwatch stuff, I saw you send eight all staff emails in one day about someone stealing from your candy corn stash. Isn’t this your whole thing?”

The three of them turned to look at him. Reaper folded his arms. Sombra widened her eyes.

“Ooooh. Wait, can you not eat food any more? Like, I know you get your sustenance from death and decay and My Chemical Romance albums or whatever, but I thought you were still capable of it…”

“I am not,” Reaper said in a clipped voice. Widow raised her hand and he sighed. “Yes?”

“Does this mean you don’t poop?” Reaper pushed away from the table and stood up.

“Okay, this meeting is over.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Sombra grabbed at Reaper’s robe and he stopped. “I’m sorry, Gabe. We should have been more sensitive to your Halloween needs.”

“I’m leaving,” Reaper said, without moving.

“We’re not doing actual work now, right?” Akande shook his head. “So we can do whatever spooky stuff you want.”

“As long as it doesn’t involve moving or thinking,” Widow said. Sombra nodded in agreement.

“Other than that, it’s your day, boo.” He looked over at Akande, who shrugged.

“I mean, we aren’t going to be working…” Reaper hesitated, then sat back down.

“Sombra, can you torrent Hocus Pocus?”

[alyssa-ward]

Year One

(Alyssa and Damien by @raen-art)

Today, May 1st marks exactly one year since my first piece of real writing on tumblr for Alyssa.  She existed a few days prior to that, but it really did mark the actual start of the character.

I’d been writing Serelia for a few months at that point, but I’d always had a fascination with Gilneas, really wanted to learn more about it, and wanted to start a second RP character.  Alyssa ended up who she was for a few reasons.  One, I hadn’t played a Warlock since Vanilla, I wanted to see what they were like now.  Two, I’d never played a Worgen past the starting zone.  The animations and model issues just bothered me too much.  I wanted to level one and explore it.

Alyssa’s in game name is Alyssatraven.  She was created with that and the TRP name Alyssa Traven, named for an elder scrolls Breton I had RPed for awhile in the past.  As I leveled through the starting zone, I reached out to Dardillien, who I wrote with on Sere occasionally as friends.  I’d already found him to be a delightful person, and I wanted to make some connections for Alyssa’s history in Gilneas.  We talked about doing old friends.  One of his old bar patrons, and to be honest, I don’t remember how we settled on the idea of asking if it would be reasonable for her to be his sister.

I do know that I’m so glad we went that direction.  Her story is so much richer for having him in it.  I’d just like to take a moment to thank some of the people I owe a great deal to for this character that I adore writing so much.

Thanks:

(Alyssa Ward by @the-zornbie-cat)

@dardillien-ward - Obviously, how could I not?  Nothing about Alyssa would exist as she is today without him.  He’s a fantastic writing partner, an unending font of Gilneas and Worgen lore, and an amazing supporter.  I’m honored and thrilled to play his character’s sister, and to follow the stories of every character he makes.

@thalsianiii - Alyssa was created shortly after the plot line where Serelia fought Percival alongside friends to retrieve books for Rian.  I was fascinated by your villain, by your knowledge of demons and warlock mythology and lore.  It made me want to write my own take on a demonologist, and really sparked the spec I’d end up playing and leaning into ICly on Aly.

@earendel-wra - Goes without saying that I adore your art.  I also just adore you as a person.  You’ve done so much to bring Alyssa to life.  From the utterly brilliant and incomparable piece above, to letting me in to the stories you told around Raen’s complicated life and end.  You’ve always been a great supporter IC and OOC, and a great shoulder to lean on, and I can’t thank you enough for it.

@thetobaccoman - You helped give Aly her darkness in a way I wasn’t really sure how to explore.  I knew it was a part of her, and that I wanted to write stories about it too, but Clyde and his grand schemes gave her reason and fuel.  I know more about her morality, her problem solving measures, and what ‘too far’ looks like thanks to you.

@kat-hawke - You inadvertently jump-started life into Alyssa.  As BFA started, some complications with an RP partner mostly put her on ice.  I took a break from Alyssa, focused on Dar’thea, figured I’d come back to her ‘some day’.  Other than a few asks here and there, I mostly didn’t touch the character for a few months.  You sent me a ‘starter’ prompt, and responding to it reminded me of how much I love this character.  Chatting with you about Gilneas, headcanoning about ships, you’ve just been a joy to write with.  

There are so many more I probably owe thanks to.  @the-real-arcanist-val; @alliesweetsong-wra; @tirasiantrouper; and more who have all had parts in shaping this character and the last year of writing her in ways big and small.  Thank everyone who has followed and engaged with me.  I look forward to what the next year brings.

Below the cut, I’ve included links to a number of relevant Alyssa writing for anyone interested in learning more about the character!

Writing:

Alyssa’s return to Stormwind and first post: Her Father’s Daughter

Dardillien’s writing about Aly and Damien reuniting: Brother and Sister

Post about Alyssa’s room at the Blue Recluse.  Interesting to see what stuck and didn’t from this.  I dropped the glasses, and most of the the stuff about demons mass manufacturing jewelry for her.  Still a close picture of who she ended up as: Privacy

Account of the 5 years from Age 20 to 25: Making a Warlock 1 2 3 4 5

Helping a Man from Duskwood solve his sleeping problems: Alyssa Ward and the Curse of the Hanged Men

The trip to Silvermoon to do her last job for Clyde: One Last Job

Alyssa talks to her father after learning Damien is a vigilante and returning from Silvermoon: Home, Family, A Better Life

Alyssa tries to give up summoning.  This didn’t last: Smash Your Problems with a Hammer

A look at a possible future where Aly has the power to ‘save’ everyone: Everyone Lives

Alyssa receives her charm bracelet: A Small Package

Alyssa relapses after trying to quit her magic: Coping Responsibly

A starter for Kat Hawke: Walks Through Elwynn

Alyssa visits her mother’s memorial: Celeste

Alyssa experiments with the Onyx Talon: Sequence

Thank you again everyone for the past year.  Alyssa’s had her ups and downs, but I look forward to the stories I’ll get to tell with all of you going forward.  Here’s to the next one.