#❆ — when the stars align !

[mogai-sunflowers]

this will be a bit of a long post but i ask that you please please read the full thing if you want to know more about Sudan- i feel like not enough people ACTUALLY know what's going on in Sudan. a lot of people have a vague idea that a 'war' and genocide is going on, but it's important to know the specifics as well.

there is extremely little coverage of Sudan from non-Sudanese sources, and even those that DO cover it often paint it as a war between two different generals for power over a country- and to a certain extent, without context, that IS what's happening. for those unaware, the two 'warring factions' in Sudan are the official Sudanese military- the SAF (Sudanese Armed Forces) and the RSF (Rapid Support Forces).

in April 2019, during the Sudanese Revolution, Islamist dictator Omar al-Bashir was deposed by the SAF in response to a mass wave of revolutionary organizing, protests, and sit-ins. Immediately after, the TMC (Transitionary Military Council) was established, with SAF general inspector Abdel Fattah al-Burhan being appointed as the chairman. for a brief time, protestors engaged in negotiations with Burhan, and many believed that he was being ernest in his promises of a true civilian democratic government- but it soon became clear to protestors that he was not actually taking their demands seriously, so demonstrations once again intensified. on June 3, 2019, it was under Burhan's command that the Khartoum Massacre was committed, killing 118 protestors while they were participating in a sit-in at the military headquarters in Khartoum.

as the next few months went by, agreements came about to dissolve the TMC and form a Transitional Sovereignty Council based on a draft of a constitutional declaration. it was supposed to be that a military official would be the chairman for 21 months, then transitioning to a civilian chairman for the next 18 months- but Burhan staged a coup in October of 2021, and dissolved the council and effectively turned the Sudanese government back into a military junta, which was the cause of further protesting.

i want to emphasize the crimes and horrors of the SAF because they are often forgotten in these discussions due to the absolute atrocities committed by the RSF. there is no good guy here- both the SAF and the RSF are vying for dictatorial power. so let's talk about the RSF.

headed by genocidal war criminal Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo, known more widely as "Hemedti", the RSF formed around 2014 due to reorginization of the Janjaweed militias- which were the militias that formed across the Darfuri regions of southwestern Sudan to suppress demonstrations against Bashir's oppressive and racist regime which carried out the first genocide of Massalit and other ethnically non-Arab peoples across Darfur in the early 2000s. so to be succinct- the RSF has direct roots in dictatorial suppression of Sudanis protesting against ethnic cleansing, genocide, and oppression.

for around a decade, the RSF and SAF were different factions of the Sudanese military- both have their roots and a pattern of supporting dictatorial violence and anti-Black genocide. and, on April 15, 2023, these two dictatorial Arab-colonialist powers began fighting out of the blue. fighting has been most intense around Khartoum, the central state and capital city of Sudan, where now an estimated 35% of its residents have been forced to flee, with the rest trapped in the middle of an active war zone.

the RSF has been actively continuing the genocide of non-Arab Darfuri Sudanis that its predecessor the Janjaweed committed 20 years prior. they have been consistently launching attacks against Massalit villages in Darfur and El Geneina. Recently, they have completely ethnically cleansed several Massalit villages, killing hundreds in each one of them. in addition, they are committing so many other war crimes, like sexual violence, blocking access to humanitarian aid, occupying civilian homes and kicking the residents out, along with blatant ethnic cleansing campaigns, mass murder, and targeting of civilians.

but don't think that this is a 'civil war' as many are calling it. a civil war is an internal dispute, but this is far from that. both the SAF and the RSF are supported by external powers, namely the UAE, Saudi Arabia, and Russia, who all provide funding to these groups IN EXCHANGE FOR SUDANESE RESOURCES LIKE GOLD AND OIL. this is, ultimately, not just some random war between two different military groups- it is a war funded by and for foreign colonial powers who have a vested interest in colonizing Sudan for its resources. as an example- the UAE's- and especially Dubai's- infamous gold and jewelry industry, is only made possible by the fact that the UAE illegally smuggles 80% of Sudan's gold- they fund this by sending weapons AND SOLDIERS to the RSF. Several of the gold mines in Sudan are owned and operated by the Russian government.

all of this, both the 'internal' AND the external, colonial aspects of this war and genocide, has led to the world's current WORST humanitarian crisis. not only do LOW estimates place the total murdered in the past year at 150,000, but out of Sudan's population of nearly 47 million, over half (25 million) are in severe need of humanitarian aid, and of those 25 million, over half are children. fighting between the RSF and SAF has lead to severe blockage of aid, and the UN's initial proposed budget of $1.5 billion in April of 2023 has not only not increased to accommodate the severe worsening of the crisis, but ALSO has not even been funded 20%.

2.5 MILLION PEOPLE ARE EXPECTED TO STARVE TO DEATH IN SUDAN BY THIS FUCKING SEPTEMBER. THAT IS LESS THAN 2 MONTHS AWAY.

additionally, due to both western colonization and the Sudanese governments' deliberate cutting of internet access across the entirety of Sudan, there is a huge lack of the proper infrastructure for generating awareness and spreading videos and info from on the ground in Sudan. this means that not only are people unable to effectively crowdfund support to leave, but they are also barred from accessing social media to spread awareness, and they're unable to contact loved ones outside of Sudan most of the time.

also, Sudan is HUGE- in order for displaced people to escape fighting, they usually have to walk, on foot, for hundreds of miles, often across literal deserts, with extremely little access to water. there has also been a surge of internally displaced people dying due to illness and scorpion stings in displacement camps. 70% of Sudan's hospitals have stopped functioning entirely. and even if they DO make it to a neighboring country, most of the options there are just as bad, if not worse- Egypt is extremely anti-Black, and doesn't allow work permits to most Black refugees, meaning they are relegated to being houseless and jobless if they go to Egypt- and westward in Chad, there is also crisis with food and resources, so the government of Chad quite literally can not materially support anymore Sudanese refugees. In South Sudan, there is also conflict, war, and crisis, and in Ethiopia, where the genocide is taking place in Tigray, the government is extremely hostile to Sudanese refugees. there are currently more than 6,000 Sudanese refugees stranded in the forests because of the hostilities they faced while in UNHCR camps.

and everyday that we're not doing something, this genocide, war, and humanitarian crisis is getting worse. doing something starts with being educated. i urge y'all to look more into this, don't just take what i'm saying and roll with it- truly learn and listen to Sudanese activists on this. i highly recommend following these accounts on Instagram:

@/red_maat , @/bsonblast , @/sudansolidaritycollective, @/forsudaneseliberation, @/darfurwomenaction, @/liberatesudan, @/zzeirra, @/yousraelbagir, @/modathirzainalabdeen, @/sdn.world, @/nasalsudan, @/sudanuntold, @/kandakamagazine, and @/almigdadhassan0

IF ANYTHING I'VE SAID IS INACCURATE, PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

i'd like to spread this post for some education. could you reblog this @decolonize-the-left @incorrectmadrigalfamilyquotes @homoidiotic @heritageposts @el-shab-hussein

@fairuzfan @palipunk @silicacid @sissa-arrows @apollos-olives @

@northgazaupdates @our-queer-experience @intersexfairy @genderqueerdykes

[anna-scribbles]

adrinette exes. and marichat. part 2

(part 1 / part 3 / part 4)

[mhaikkun]

full-time model, part-time thief

[hyolks]

some bonus link zeldas :')

[warlenys]

hugh laurie purposefully gay acting and rsl completely obliviously gay acting is why they’re such a good holmes and watson

[sillyfairygarden]

sunship for day 4 of @mcyt-yuri-week | recreation of “the kiss of the siren” by gustav wertheimer

[jaysdoodlehell]

There is no escape from Starscream hell >:3

[myokk]

She chances a glance at Sebastian before getting out her copy of Divining the Undivinable from her bag and wishes she hadn’t. He looks uncomfortably big sitting on the tiny tea chair across from her, barely any hints of the boy who had completely swept her away two years ago visible on the sharper planes of his face. When had he - had they - grown up?

Sebastian Sallow was - is - charming, and that had been her downfall. She had successfully avoided his charms the year before, and she isn’t going to let that happen this year, no matter how much her body rebels against her mind and resolve. Because, as she reminds herself, Sebastian Sallow is also manipulative, and cold-hearted, and selfish.

“Well,” she says archly, opening her book. She will not look at him. “I suppose I am still quite ignorant of the practice of Divination, so do forgive me if I have to double-check my readings in the textbook.”

He says her name as she opens the book, and she ignores him. He says her name again. She continues to ignore him. He grabs the book from her hands and puts it the correct way for her. She was looking at it upside-down. Her cheeks heat up and she continues flipping through the pages, as if nothing has happened. She finds page two-hundred and thirty. She pretends to be interested in what she sees.

(Divination is unfortunately not interesting.)

Oh, fine.

“Do you want to start, or should I?”

These are the first words she has voluntarily spoken to him - not including the events of last week, which do not count as they were most decidedly not voluntary - since he called her ignorant a year and a half ago. He somehow looks surprised to see that she has addressed him, and for some reason this fills her with rage and a strange sort of confidence. Why shouldn’t she be able to talk to him?

“Here,” she says, putting her hand out towards him, palm up, ignoring the strange fluttering feeling in her chest when he gently grabs it with one of his. Sebastian looks up at her, waiting for her to continue speaking, and were she not looking at him so intently she would have easily missed the bob of his throat as he swallows nervously. “Show me how it’s done.”

from my oneshot, clumsy🫶🫶🫶

[astrhae]

...maybe it's all part of a great big ineffable plan

[akolnoix]

i like to joke about the black+red coats the jigsaw crew wears being akatsuki cloaks, and then while watching saw 2 i was like "haha amanda kinda has sasuke's hairstyle." well that all collided tonight, while i (finally) watched saw x.

[scintie]

a spark of black

Pairing: Gambit/Remy LeBeau x female reader. Summary: Ever since you appeared at the resistance hideout along with Wade and Logan, tension between you and a certain Cajun card slinger has been steadily growing. One fateful night you finally get the chance to relieve some of it. Tags: smut (male receiving), blowjob, mild dominant undertones. Notes: be gentle, this is the first piece of writing that I've uploaded in yeeeeears. :')

You watched Remy’s mouth move, his lips forming words that you just couldn’t decipher. He was obviously speaking to you, it was just the two of you sat in the main room of the hideout.

Earlier in the evening everyone had been gathered, sharing stories and drinks. The others had all turned in for the night an hour or so ago, leaving you and the Cajun to continue on without them. Wade had made his exit by saying something predictably crude about not being too loud while fucking each others brains out. Remy had waved him off while you did nothing but blush.

The past hour had been torture. Listening to Remy's smooth, deep voice talk about their recent escapades in the Void had driven you crazy with desire. You'd developed a stupid crush on him as soon as you'd arrived. Who wouldn't though right? With his tall, broad stature and handsome face, he'd be hard for anyone to resist. But as the days had passed things went from bad to worse and your stupid crush deepened into a genuine desire.

That's why the blood was thumping so loud in your ears that you couldn’t understand him.

“Wh-what? Sorry, I er, I didn’t quite catch that.” You stammered, feeling your cheeks grow hotter by the second. You dreaded to think how flustered you looked to him right now. Like a deer in the headlights of a truck. A big, sexy truck wearing a brown leather coat.

“Oh, tu es mignon,” Remy chuckled under his breath. He rose from his chair and stepped a little closer, as if the distance between the two of you was the issue. “Remy see da way you been lookin’ at him cher, when ya' think he no be noticin’, ah?”

You were speechless. You didn't know how to react to his bluntness. How were you supposed to react to that?

Remy smirked and closed the gap between you completely and leaned over you, placing his hands on the back of your chair, one either side of your head. He was so close, you could barely breathe.

"You wan' me? All a pretty lil' thing like you would hav' to do is ask, ma douce." He kept his voice low, not wanting to alert the others.

Your mind raced, thoughts bouncing around for what felt like an eternity before at last, you nodded your head. You didn't even realise you were doing it but you weren't about to argue against it either.

"Atta girl, une si bonne fille." Remy praised, standing up straight. His hands went to the fastenings of his pants, all the while maintaining eye contact with you. "Ya trust Remy, don'cha cher?" He asked, slowly pushing his pants and underwear down off of his hips.

Your gaze left his then, moving down his otherwise fully clothed body until you were greeted with the sight of his half hard cock slipping from it's confines. Your eyes went wide. He was certainly much bigger than anyone you'd ever been with before.

You realised Remy was still watching you, slowly stroking himself now, waiting for an answer. You didn't know where to look, it was hard to tear your eyes away from the sight of his cock swelling to it's full, impressive size.

Finally, you found your words, "Y-yeah, I trust you."

"Perfect." Remy smirked and took up his position right in front of you, his hands on the back of the chair again. You gulped, head swimming with anticipation. "Then open up dat pretty mouth for me."

You drew in a long breath before slowly parting your lips, wider and wider until he nodded his approval. Remy seemed to realise that he had forgotten something, taking your hands from your lap and guiding them to his bare thighs. "Da's for yer own peace of mind, don' wan' you thinkin' you gon' fall."

You braced your hands on his muscular legs and soon realised why as he pulled on the back of your chair, slowly tilting you forward. The movement causing your mouth to lower onto his cock. It was definitely a different experience to anything you were used to, he had almost complete control over your movement.

Remy moaned quietly, taking in the tantalisingly debauched sight of your luscious lips wrapped around him. He took in every detail and sensation, observing you as if you were creating a beautiful piece of artwork right in front of him.

You looked up at him with hooded eyes, slowly working your tongue around him with what little space you had left to use.

Remy moaned again, deeper this time before just as slowly tipping the chair back down, his cock sliding almost all of the way out of your mouth.

"Y'okay, cher?" He asked, his chest rising and falling quickly. You could tell he was holding himself back a little, but he needed to make sure you were still on board with this.

You nodded slowly, running your hands slowly up and down his thighs, squeezing the muscles lying taught beneath his smooth skin.

Remy nodded back and steadied his stance. He moved the chair forward and backward again in quicker succession this time, watching your face for any sign of discomfort. He relaxed when all he saw was lust and wanton desire on your features.

You kept your hands braced on his legs, giving yourself a firm and steady anchor point to rely on. You moaned around his dick as he moved you again, a little deeper this time but still manageable.

He gradually built up a good rhythm. Not fast enough to be overwhelming for you but definitely enough to have him moaning freely, loving the soft warmth of your mouth as he moved you back and forth.

"Dat hot lil' mouth feelin' so good on me, cher." He whispered huskily, just loud enough for you to hear. You still had to be quiet, you couldn't imagine how mortifying it would be if one of the others walked in on you two right now.

Remy's words of encouragement shot a tingle through your body that ended up right between your legs. You pressed your thighs together hard and whimpered, tears prickling your eyes as your arousal started to get the better of you.

Remy noticed the change in your demeanour and slowly lowered the chair completely back down to the floor, his cock slipping free from your mouth for the first time since he'd started. A mixture of saliva and precum followed after him, coating your lips and chin.

You loved how completely blissed out you were feeling, high on the endorphins and serotonin surging through your body. Without really thinking about it you slid from the chair and onto your knees between Remy's feet. You were going on instinct, being driven by the almighty lust that you felt for this man.

"Y'kay down dere, angel?" Remy enquired, cocking an eyebrow and sliding a reassuring hand onto your shoulder as he watched you with intrigue.

You nodded slowly, grazing your teeth over your bottom lip. "Uhuh, just wanna make you come that's all..." Your words came out so soft and breathy that it was his turn to barely hear you, but he soon got the idea when you reached up and started to stroke him back to full hardness.

He moaned just a little louder than he'd liked to, caught a little off guard by the sudden sensation of your soft hands. "Well cher, Remy ain't gon' be arguin' widdat." He chuckled when he'd regained composure, jutting his hips forward for you. As soon as he was rigid again you wasted no time in taking his cock back into your mouth. You set a relatively fast pace, bobbing your head quickly, taking as much as would while working him with your tongue. Your hands went to his hips, pulling him forward and back gently in time with your bobbing. "Merde..." He hissed, looking down at you as he snaked his hand into the hair at the back of your head. "Jus' like dat, belle. Remy be comin' in no time if you be doin' dat..."

Spurred on by his words you forced yourself to take him just a little deeper, feeling him throb against your tongue in response, followed by the salty taste of precum.

You moaned softly as Remy's fingers tightened in your hair, gripping the strands at the very root. His hips stuttered a little, a tell tale sign that he getting close.

One of your hands left his hip and made it's way between his legs to massage his balls, lifting them with your palm and rolling them in their sack slowly.

The sound that came out of the Cajun's mouth was like music to your ears. Along guttural moan peppered with some indistinguishable French curse words. Apparently he didn't seem to care if anyone heard anymore.

A couple more minutes went by of you greedily sucking him and playing with his balls before Remy suddenly pulled back, his cock popping from your mouth wetly.

He wrapped his hand around his dick as he quickly guided you to sit back in the discarded chair from earlier. You complied, scrabbling up onto the wooden seat.

Remy stood over you, straddling your legs a she began jerking himself off quickly. "M' gonna come all over dat pretty face, cher... ya' ready?"

You nodded, heat rushing to your cheeks in anticipation. His hand made it's way to the back of your head again, holding you in place as he chased his orgasm.

The visual of such a devastatingly gorgeous man masturbating over you was intoxicating, it made your head spin just watching him. An odd swell of pride hit you as you noticed your saliva still coating his cock as he stroked himself, sliding his length between the makeshift sheath of his palm and thick fingers.

"Beg me, cher. Beg Remy for his cum." He panted.

You could tell he was right there, right on the precipice, he just needed to hear you.

"Please Remy, fuck... please cum all over me..." You whined, your breathing almost as shallow as his by now.

That did the trick. Almost as soon as the last words left passed your lips Remy let out a long, loud moan as his cock started to twitch. He pulled you closer just as thick, white ropes of cum started to shoot from his slit.

You opened your mouth just in time as you felt some of the hot, salty fluid paint your tongue. The rest splashed across your face in haphazard directions, marking you as his. Remy's fist slowed and his breathing steadied as the pleasure subsided. It was at that moment that you locked eyes with him. It was then that he fully saw the mess he'd made of you. The sight of you covered in his seed seemed to stun him for a small moment before his trademark cockiness returned.

"Lookin' good dere, beautiful. Dat look really suit you, ah?" He quipped, winking as he turned to find a washcloth.

You took it from him with a shy smile, your hormone fuelled confidence ebbing away slightly in the aftermath. But you smiled to yourself as you wiped your face clean because you had a feeling that he was right. It did suit you.

[mogai-sunflowers]

femme lesbians who use he/him pronouns are literally so fucking cool like. people always try to explain he/him lesbians by saying “well it’s like butches cuz they’re masculine” and don’t get me wrong: he/him butch lesbians have my heart but he/him femme lesbians are literally just as real and valid and if you truly want to learn to believe that pronouns truly do not equal gender, then you’re going to have to stop thinking that “he/him lesbian = butch lesbian” because then you’re just trying to say that lesbians can use he/him if they’re masc enough but im here to tell you: literally any lesbian can use he/him pronouns. you can be the femmest of femmes and still use exclusively he/him pronouns and literally none of that invalidates anything about you.

so long story short: he/him femmes, especially femmes who exclusively use he/him, are literally to die for. i fucking love you <333

[humming-fly]

Happy to report I have finally started listening to Malevolent and to no one's surprise I am already obsessed (I'm almost done with s2 atm please don't send me spoilers yet sdlkfj)

I'll skip over my usual formality of having one normal art post before diving into shitposts let's not waste anyone's time here

[the-dragon-hearted]

Part 1

There is a universe, somehow, where everything aligned just perfectly and left four desperate children on Silco's doorstep. A universe where Piltover is just a bit more ruthless: where Vander's connections aren't trustworthy and where his foolish sentimentality wins.

Vander's arrested, in Vi's place. He's so proud of her for trying to do the right thing - but he'll not make a sacrifice out of Felicia's daughter. The violence in the streets has to stop and Piltover won't stop until it has someone to blame for the theft. So the Hound becomes a sacrificial lamb.

But remember, his agreements are flimsier, and the trust between enforcer and undercity is as thin as the razor blade Mylo keeps in his pocket. The gold-trimmed enforcers aren't happy with a Hound dressed in wool - they want the girl. The one Jayce identified. Some pink-haired snot-nosed filthy brat. The thief. The terrorist.

They labeled her a terrorist: Vi. For a near-harmless explosion in a district she would've been beaten in, just for the grime in her hair.

And the Hound won't have that.

For the second time in his life, Vander's knuckles are stained with enforcer blood and the undercity begins to burn. Vi's next to him, eager to fight, but scared. She's just a kid after all. Always eager. Always scared.

Claggor, Mylo, and Powder come running as they limp back to the Last Drop. Powder's too busy crying into Vi's shirt to pay much attention to the screams outside. Reinforcements are just a few minutes away. The rats of the undercity retreat to spare themselves from the brutality beneath an enforcer's heel and the streets grow quieter and quieter. They all know how to slip away when the time demands it, but this is more than sneaking through the sewers and waiting for the storm to pass.

The enforcers, the council, Piltover: they'll keep coming. The blood on Vander and Vi's hands ensures that much. And they don't want him -

He looks to where Vi is hugging Powder back, a: "Sorry Powpow," being breathed. "Didn't mean to scare you -"

He can't let that happen. He can make himself the bigger problem - the biggest threat and that will buy the kids time and give those rich bastards a victory.

But then... it'll just be them.

Claggor's strong, Mylo's sly, Powder's clever, and Vi is brave. They're all tough as nails and they'll make it. At least until this underbelly starts ripping itself around. Vander's a smart man who knows what will happen in his absence, the cannibalistic tendencies of desperate people who need scapegoats.

And Vi's already willing to play the martyr. She proved that much. No, if he leaves he needs to leave them with something. Anything. Something that's as willing to fight for their future as...

That's when he gets the terrible idea. Right around the same time he hears the tell-tale racket of enforcers running down cobblestone. He grabs a bar napkin, and Claggor bars the door. He fumbles messily around for a piece of graphite or a damned pen.

Vi pushes Powder behind her and grabs a half-empty bottle from a table. There's a shatter as she arms herself with razor glass. These kids are well versed at making weapons, they have to be.

They'll only get better at it if he finishes this note. He's signing their lives away to a different demon. There's no guarantee they'll live long enough to give him the note. It's a terrible idea -

"I'll never betray Zaun's children"

Powder's climbing behind the bar with him, clinging to his leg. Mylo climbs over the other side, fiddling with a collection of rusty steak knives. Claggor's grabbed a chair and broke it, two wooden beams in either hand.

Suffocating in the streets is better than dying on a bridge.

"Take this," he gives it to Vi before slipping on his knuckles. "Find Silco. Ask around, and he'll find you."

"What?" it's a challenge from her. She's ready to fight to keep what she has.

She doesn't realize that every fight comes with a loss. And eventually, it's going to take everything from her. Once you bloody those knuckles you never stop - not really.

But not today. Today it'll only take him, and hopefully, she'll remember what they talked about. She'll remember that despite this shitshow - he's proud of her for finding a peaceful solution. He's proud of her for putting down those fists.

But there was no way in hell he was going to let her go.

"Take care of each other," he orders slipping on his other gauntlet. Mylo and Powder stare at him with wide eyes. Claggor's lip is trembling.

"Remember. Remember, to look out for each other!" he orders.

"No!" Powder seems to understand now as Vander pulls the bracings away from the door. She scrambles over the bar with a muffled wail. Mylo stops her right as Vander throws the door open.

"Vander!" Vi screams, but the hound is loose.

He's in the streets and he's set about making these fools remember why they follow the light. Why they fear the undercity so badly they chase its children to sate their fury. Dark things live in the undercity. Zaun's children are raised in air so heavy it turns their lungs to iron. Her streets sharpen their teeth and build calluses over their knuckles until the only thing they feel is the warm crimson in their wake.

Vander had hoped he'd never do this - be this. But jaws shatter under his fist faster than glasses fill with his whiskey. He's good at this. Always has been. The kids slip away - he knows that much.

Everything else is a bit of a blur. He glimpses Ekko, once, on the rooftops. The boy heads after the other four and Vander is thankful for that. Benzo didn't survive the first wave... he doesn't have much chance to reflect on that because there's another enforcer in his grip and a new scream in the air.

He buys the kids plenty of time. Too much time.

Enough time for all of Zaun to hear the news: the Hound's fighting back! Five enforcers are dead! Six! Ten! Enough time for Vi and Mylo to find their informants.

Silco isn't exactly a subtle name. He's well hidden, that's true, but a familiar blond limped his way over to one of the abandoned warehouses after Vi kicked the shit out of him. Word on the street is that he's in with someone named Silco. Doesn't mean much to the informant or to Vi.

It's enough. They slip into one of Zaun's many industrial districts just as Vander finally falls.

Piltover's attack dogs got him - they would eventually, he knew that much. A wild hound is fierce but numbers always win. Part of him's happy to die on familiar cobblestones. Better than the cool stone of prison - better than anything Piltover had in mind for him. This way, the kids would know what happened to him. They wouldn't do anything stupid.

Well... they'd probably still do some stupid things. He coughed out a laugh, blood hacking out of his lungs as it all began to fade. Good. They deserved to be a bit stupid. They were kids...

Just kids.

Hopefully, Silco remembers that...

Silco? Oh, Silco remembers. He'd been making a plan revolving around that. Kids are foolish. Kids are loyal. Children are painfully easy to manipulate and kill. Children are easy to make disappear.

Killing Vander and his children was quite literally on his upcoming schedule. It was going to be a glorious sort of revenge, making Vander watch it happen - helpless to stop it as he drowned in his own pacifism. It was going to be inhumane. The final nail in Silco's old coffin.

So pardon him for taking a moment to stare at the victims delivered to his doorstep. Half of him wants to laugh. The other half feels like he's been shoved back into that damn river.

The children only stare back, wide-eyed and curious. Scared too... haunted in some wonderfully poetic way.

"Can I help you?" Silco demands cooly after his disbelief has been satiated.

The pink one steps forward, naturally. She's Vander's little favorite, his poster child: basically a replica. Taking charge is probably laced in her veins.

She hands him a napkin.

"He told us to come here," she breathes, and it almost sounds like a prayer.

Silco cannot focus on anything but the napkin.

"Well... not here," the wily boy in the back disagrees slowly as he gives a scathing glance to a dead mouse in the corner. "He told us to find you."

Silco watches them carefully and then unfolds the napkin. If this is a trap it's ridiculous and definitely not Vander's idea. Perhaps these children are simply suicidal - or stupid.

He reads it.

Pauses. Reads it again.

He glances to that pink one again: Violet. Felicia's daughter. The other one is to her right, clinging to the elder's bruised knuckles. Powder... right?

Mylo. And Claggor.

Vander's children.

Vander's children!

He reads it one more time.

"It is kind of messy," Claggor's sheepish tone contradicts his appearance sharply. "He was in a rush -"

"I can read it," Silco snarls. He whirls around and plunges further into the bowels of the warehouse.

The children follow, blindly. Because they were told to. They follow the devil into his den because Vander told them to.

Why Silco let them, he'll never be able to explain. Never. Why he didn't finish was Vander started: destroy all remnants of their old life, including those damned children - he'll never say.

He can't. Because Vander sent him his children and a note. It changes nothing.

Except it changes everything.

[imperfectcourt]

I want comfortable summer college jock Neil wearing a tank top, scars on full display, enjoying the sun and being stupid with his best friend Matt with no cares of the (surprisingly few) stares. He's a junior, he's old news on campus, nobody gives a shit about his drama anymore, he's captain of the exy team and he's having a waterballoon fight with Matt on the quad nearest Fox Tower and having the type of fun that passersby badly want to join in on but don't have the confidence to

[olympain]

cabin pressure (a-z): ottery st mary