#so i made kayn shake too
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I JUST FOUND YOUR BLOG AND OMG
hey imma need that confession Heartsteel Kayn moment yannoooo… fr all I’ve been thinking about 😳😳😳
✖ Heartsteel!Kayn Confessing ✖
✖ Word Count: 1.2k
✖ Tags: Awkward Confessions
✖ A/N: Reader here is just someone who works at his studio! He met you as Heartsteel slowly begun to start out and get ready for debut. Also writing this with that one ask about him writing a song about this exact moment in mind. Heehee!
I was reading some fanfics on my side and got filled with so much adrenaline and emotions I spat this out. I got very very very carried away writing this. I hope its not too OOC. Thank you for asking for this, I couldn't stop thinking about writing it.
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It sucked. It fucking sucked. The way his heart raced when you were near.
The loud thumping against his chest. He hated it.
He hated how vulnerably and un-badass it made him feel. How the high he got from you rivaled that of the stage.
How your voice played over and over in his mind more than any melody he knew. How your laughter made his knees weak. It made Him. Weak!
He hated. He loathed. He grunts in frustration as he rocks out hard on his guitar. Fingers picking at the strings, a sick solo riff but it was for no one but himself.
Oh, how he did arguably stupider things than usual when he saw you watching. Showing off to you he jumped off a stage once. Which is not too far off from usual but it was to no audience! It was during a practice run! He did it just to flex to you that he was cool! Fucking embarrassing to remember but he did! All because you were standing nearby! How could you do such a thing to him!
The absolute frustration he was filled with. Not pent up rage, not a craving for violence and destruction, but affection? Undeniable. Overflowing. Drowning and choking him. Affection!
He finally threw his guitar on the ground. Breathing heavy. Hands running through his hair to push away the hair that has fell to his face in his little jam session. Hands wiping away the sweat. No matter how long he played, how fast his fingers pressed the strings, how frantically he strummed away. How he still played, chipping his painted nails when he slips up and drops his pick. The loud music of his electric guitar couldn't drown out the high BPM beat of his heart going off in his ears. The mental image of you smiling and waving at him every time he shows up. The tingle in his fingertips imagining himself holding you.
Swallowing hard, he storms out of the studio. He was at his fucking limit and refused to deal with this flip flop of emotions any longer. A cold shower. He calms down. Tomorrow. At the studio when he goes in to record. He'll find you then. He'll go early before the rest of the band gets there. He'll get this done and over with. Enough hours were spent being a mess about you. He was going to get this done! Tossing and turning in bed for hours he finally falls asleep. Tomorrow, he'll confess.
xxxx
The next day came soon enough. Making sure he looked good, makeup on, hair styled nicely, a sexy ass outfit with his deliciously sculpted abs out. Not the usual for when he goes to the studio but if he was going to be confessing? Perfect. Yes he was perfect in his own eyes but still, his heart raced. Small whispers of Rhaast in his mind, telling him they might reject him, that he was someone that needed nobody, he shouldn't go up to them and say anything, the frustration was so good for his music! But still, he walked on. Boots hitting the floor at the same pace of his rapidly beating heart as he walks up to you. You heard him before you saw him, the thump of his boots echoing closer and closer.
" Hey!"
He cringes internally, the hell was that greeting. Hey? Just hey?! He smiles. Cocky as usual. Face never betraying his emotions, yeah he was cool like that. The shaking of his hands held back as he puts them in his pockets. Its alright, he looked cool. Just like that, hands in his pockets fiddling with his phone as he leans against the wall to talk to you.
" Can I talk to you a bit before I go and record stuff?"
Oh gods you smiled and nodded. His heart fluttered. His expression, involuntary, visibly lighting up. The way your smile just made him smile so bright back. He takes a deep breath.
" I uh...I love you."
He spat it out. It wasn't cool. It wasn't sexy. It was a choked out confession. Heart racing, palms now sweaty in his pockets, still shaking. Hells, shaking More now. His breath heavy as he tries to keep the anxiety at bay. A feeling of stage fright he never felt before. Suddenly hitting him. You look at him, face slowly getting more flushed as you process the sudden confession.
" I hate it but I've fallen head over heels for you. I'm a fucking wreck. You ruin me."
Kayn runs his hands through his hair, a habit to calm himself down. His eyes closed as he takes a deep breath before continuing.
" You genuinely make my time here at the studio fun, your presence is chaotic and calming at the same time. I want to be with you. I want us to be a thing. You already know me, you've seen the me on stage during practice, off stage when I record lines, you've seen Rhaast go all out and you still choose to be around me. I want you more than anything I've ever wanted."
He looks at you now, a calm stare. Lips pursed in a tight line. Swallowing hard. His nerves somehow finding solace in letting out all his feelings that were pent up over the month or two since you got to know each other. You laugh, gods your laugh. He's giddy. You tell him you love him too. He smiles.
A pause as he suddenly stands up straight. You tell him you love him too?
" Wait haha what? Really?"
He was amazing of course you'd say yes but still, there was that tiny part of him that was worried. You liked him back? You Love him? The amazing you! The you that shone like a sun in his frustrating days of endless work as a rockstar. You! He was fucking Elated. Arms immediately around you, a tight hug as he lets out a sigh. Breath he didn't even realize he was holding until now. His arms still shaking a little as he held you.
" Can I kiss you. Right now? I-"
Kayn doesn't even finish his sentence, the moment you nod his lips are on yours, passionate. Hands threading through your hair as he holds your head gently. Holding you against him. His free hand around your waist, supporting you as much as he was supporting himself from falling apart at your touch. How he loved you, the smell of your hair so close to him now, the taste of your lips on his, the feeling of your soft delectable lips on his. How warm you were in his hands, how faint your breath on his face. He was in love. He was in Love.
As he pulls apart. He takes another deep breath. The way you left him literally breathless. Fuck. This was an excitement he never felt before. Never has a kiss left him feeling so...good? Never has a hug left him literally shaking with excitement. You were special and now you were his.
" You're so fucking perfect you know that?"
He laughs shakily. A hand rising, trembling as he lightly touches his lips. Still in disbelief. He loves you. Undeniably. Overwhelmingly. The storm of emotions he held for the past, who knows how long, now a summer breeze filling his chest with a warmth he doesn't remember ever feeling. He loves you.
#Also from personal experience as I too jumped off a stage once to an empty audience for a flex.#I sprained my ankle after but it was cool. Kayn would do that I can see it happening.#Anon Answer#My heart was racing as i wrote this#i was shaking too#so i made kayn shake too#heehee#SO MANY EMOTIOSN#I LOVE LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#Kayn x Reader#Heartsteel!Kayn#Shieda Kayn#I really outdid myself writing this#this is my new favorite answer#Kayn LoL#Kayn League#KaynLeague#Kayn League of Legends#SCENARIOS#Shieda Kayn x Reader#im ruined i love this so much and i fucking wrote it lmao#League of Legends Scenarios#league of legends imagines#oh i love him i love him#to hold him close and tell him he is worthy of love that is hard and fast that leaves him breathless and wanting#to give kayn a love like no other that is you reader. thank you for loving him.#Yuno's Favourite Answer#oops proofred to make it gn
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Hiii :3 I'll just copy paste the ask for you.
If I may, can I request something with Phel and a male lhotlan partner? Perhaps a first date or introducing to the heartsteel gang? Thanks in advance~
Aphelios x make Ihotlan reader
Reader kinda has crow tendencies in one part, but that doesn't mean he is one :3
Hope you're happy with it
I seriously love this gif
You and Aphelios were a thing for half a year already, he introduced you to Alune some time ago and while the rest of his band knew about you, they didn't meet you yet. And that was about to change.
You two approached the groups apartment, Aphelios fixing up your feathers, which made you blush a little
You were pretty stressed, while it was only his band and his sister really likes you, so where's the issue?
You two finally entered the flat, surprisingly most of the band already in the living room.
You looked around, he told you about the half vastayan guy, Sett. But there was also a pink-purple haired guy, looking bored already. There was also the green haired one, who looked at you excited. The last one, who just entered, was Yone, the stoic producer.
- Um...Hi...- you said, voice shacking
The pink haired one laughed. He laughed in your face
- Jeez, Aphelios where do you find those cute ones?~- You felt your boyfriend sneak a hand onto your waist, playing with your feather
Yo didn't expect your boyfriends bandmates to start flirting with you the moment you arrived...You and Aphelios sat down on the couch and you tried to get to know the other guys better
Honestly, you really took a liking to Ezreal, not because he wore shiny things, but because he wore a lot of shiny things
But then finally the last person arrived.
- K'Sante- the big man introduced himself to you, almost breaking your hand when shaking it
- Hey, Phel, maybe bring your boyfriend to the shooting next week? - Kayn joked around but everyone seemed to found the idea good
You were worried you were gonna bother them, but why not? You wanted to support Aphelios, maybe even bring something for the band?
Later on you all decided to watch a movie. You went into the kitchen with Aphelios to make popcorn. While it was microwaving, he wrote you a note in the notebook you always carried with you so he could 'talk' to you that way
"I'm glad they like you"
You looked at him and smiled
- I'm glad too-
#league of legends#heartsteel#league of legends x reader#heartsteel x reader#lol#lol x reader#heartsteel kayn#aphelios#heartsteel k'sante#heartsteel aphelios#heartsteel ezreal#heartsteel yone#heartsteel sett#aphelios x reader
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Title: my best friends boyfriend pt.2
Pairing(s): Reader/Kayn, Akali/Kayn, Ahri/Evelynn (Minor)
Word Count: 3,124
Warnings: Minor NSFW.
Likes & Reblogs Appreciated <3 my ko-fi link
Drink up? He wanted you to drink up? This felt more like a game at this point than an actual prelude to whatever he had planned in that pretty head of his. You couldn't help but grin and laugh at these words. "We're gonna be cheersing a lot tonight" You spoke boldly, holding up the now half empty margarita glass. Kayn happily picks up the beer you obtain from you and taps it lightly to your glass with a smile. "Cheers" The both of you spoke together, before both throwing back the rest of your drinks with a wide grin and laugh. The clatter of the bottle and glass back on the top of the bar caught the attention of the other bartender
"Just another beer and I think Shi made them one of her secret Margs, so you'll have to get her back to make it."
The bartender looked a little confused, but nodded, quickly calling to Shi who was now dragging her husband from the main floor into the back room. For a moment her gaze fell to you and Kayn, and all you saw was Kayn lift up your glass and shake it at her. She began to mouth the words in a moment, while Zed was clearly trying to protest whatever she was going to do to him. But Shi didn't stop dragging, pulling him out of the main room and into the back. You could hear muffled yelling through the wall for a moment, as Kayn just sighed and tried to distract you with meaningless conversation about beer and similar alcohols as you waited and watched the doorway you had seen Shi go through. And soon enough he was emerging again, a wide smile on her face as she slid behind the bar again and stood in front of you. "So, round two? How lovely"
She seemed so unbothered by whatever had just occurred in the back, and honestly you were kind of impressed, and you could see that Kayn picked up on that trait of hers. It almost made you giggle as you watched her make you another drink before handing it off to you. She smiled again, it felt warm and you couldn't help but to smile back as you watched the other bartender hand Kayn his beer. You could see Kayn nod at the other bartender, before shooting his mother a look and turning to you. You shifted your gaze to Kayn, seeing his mother & the bartender slipping out of the area. You couldn't help but giggle, with each passing moment you could feel the effects of the alcohol in your system slowly taking a toll, and you were kind of excited about it for once. You weren't the type to really get drunk most of the time so on the few occasions you let down your walls you found a lot of joy in them. "Cheers, I can't wait to see what you look like while you're fighting for control over your own body, while you're being pleasured in every sense of the word."
You sucked in a breath at the mere thought of the words he just said, trying to come up with a witty comment in response but you felt too distracted, because the concept of Kayn being able to pleasure you in all meanings was enough to drive your brain into a ditch and just shut down. So you did what any sensible person would do, and just slammed back your own drink without any thought of the consequences, before speaking again. "just don't let me forget." You smiled as you placed down the glass and hiccupped softly. Too much too fast, but you knew for sure there was no stopping tonight. Everything was going to come and go in a haze, while you welcomed it, it also scared you. "Can I get another one of these? It's actually really good" You giggled again, and Kayn couldn't help but grin and nod.
"Hey ma, can we get another one of those for Y/N, but like double it this time? I don't think they're ready to give up quite yet."
"Testing my limits to their full degree, are we now Kayn?"
"Go hard or go home, baby." The simple term of affection sent shivers down your spine. While you knew it wasn't meant in such a way, and simply was just strung onto the saying, it made you feel like and warmer than before. And maybe that was just the alcohol hitting again. But, no matter the case you were feeling different and you were prepared. "I need to drink more to catch up to you at this point, soon enough you'll be drunker than I am. I'm failing as a host."
You chuckled again at how his words seemed so childish considering the topic at hand and it just made you grin ear to ear. " If you're being a bad host maybe you should step up your game?" You earned a laugh from Kayn, who just brushed off your comment. And that was the history. That was how you ended up here, in the moment being led by your wrist out the back door of the bar and up the fire escape. Flight after flight of stairs, and you could hardly see where you were stepping at this point, but you kind of enjoyed the thrill of stumbling up those stairs with Kayn. The way he would look at you over his shoulder with that smile, and the gleam in his eyes. Your heart wouldn't stop fluttering. "Do you live at the top or something? There's so many stairs, Kayn!" You nearly cried out between breaths, you were tired, and at the next landing Kayn was already pulling you into him before he spoke.
"And if I do? Shall I carry you the rest of the way?" You couldn't help but nod, and Kayn seemed to agree, sweeping his arms behind your knees with the other at your back and soon enough you were off your feet. One arm around his neck and another on Kayn's chest, faces just inches apart. No words or anything were exchanged, but you wanted nothing more than to just lean forward and lock lips with him, but he made it so you couldn't. He was quick, spinning around with you in his arms, with a grin before stopping. "I might live at the top, so let me make this easier on you my dear."
He knew now to make you swoon which was a shocking yet pleasing trait of his, another thing you liked. But maybe that was just an in the moment thing as he began to walk again, carrying you up the stairs furthering, sealing your fate to spend the night with this stranger that you've taken a very deep interest in. Despite the effects of the alcohol you couldn't help but giggle at all little actions of his. But you just found yourself watching him again, the way his braid bounced when he would skip steps, the way his grip tightened on you each time he turned to move up the next flight. The grin on his face never faltered and it only widened when you could see him glance at you from the corner of his eyes. But it doesn't stop him when you gotta what you assumed was the window to his apartment? Loft? you didn't even know. "If this one apartment, its like 3 floors or''
"It's a loft, yeah. We own the other 2 apartment buildings across the street, but this building is just the bar and our families loft. I got the top floor to myself so my parents don't bother me."
"Wow how lucky late 20s and getting to basically live in your own place but still with your parents"
"Oh hush, you'll appreciate it once you're inside." And maybe he was right, there was a little fiddling with the window as he had put you down on your feet again, but soon enough he got it to pop open and went through the window, before turning to help you through. Inside was a whole different vibe. Inside you could see Kayn stood a little taller, most likely far more comfortable to be back in his own place than out in the open. "Now that we're inside," He began to talk again, hardly giving you time to stand completely up on your own two feet before a hand of his was on your shoulder and pushing you backwards until your back was met with the wall behind you. His free hand found its way to the window ledge and shut it with one swoop. "Don't need the outside to hear you and all the little things I'm planning to do to you."
You could hear yourself swallowed which meant there might've been a good chance Kayn could hear it too, and you're assuming he did because his grin only widened. "And what, do you have planned in that pretty little mind of yours" You hardly mustered the will and bravery to say it, which felt good; but you're already regretting it, because the hand that was on the window was now on your hips, and he was digging his nails into you. His hand that rested on your shoulder slowly moved its way towards your hair where you could feel his fingers slowly run through small sections of it, his gaze shifting to follow where his hand was in your hair.
"You'd love for me to tell you everything, but I think the surprise of it is far more thrilling. Wouldn't you agree Y/N"
"I'd agree."
"So, then let me ask you again, do you want to make bad decisions with me that you'll forget in the morning so when you finally remember them randomly you'll be so embarrassed but can't help but crave my touch again?"
"I want to."
"Perfect, then let's begin." He wasn't kidding when he said that, that was your warning, within seconds, before you could even get another word out, Kayn's lips were on yours and he showed no desire to keep this slow or build up to anything. He was already interested in making you completely melt for him right then and there. And you were not against it in the slightest, his hand on your hip was warm, even through the pain of his nails digging into your flesh, you almost didn't want him to stop. The thought of him clawing you enough to leave small wounds in the morning so you could see them and wonder what occurred was kind of exciting to you. And you just let him do it more, moving your own hands to wrap around his neck to bring him in closer to you, because even lip locked like this it wasn't close enough for you.
He must've felt the same way, because the hand that was previously in your hand was now slowly dragging itself down your neck, past your collar bones and down your torso, before falling to sit in the opposite spot of your hip to his other, and his knee finding its way between your legs, and you already knew it was over for you. You could feel your mind slowly wanting to slip away so you could completely give yourself up to this man and all the dirty little things he kept teasing you about. But you needed to remember, you wanted to, because how could you want to forget any of this? You had to fight back a little letting a little moan escape from you when his knee moved up to press against you, and Kayn instantly figured this was all you had been waiting for all night, you were just waiting for his touch.
And maybe in that moment something seemed to change, Kayn's touch got light for a moment, before he was roughly grabbing you again. Kayn's hand traveled from where they were previously perched to right under your ass. You felt his grip tightened before lifting you up off the ground, you were slightly taken back by the action but when your lips left his and you were looking him in the eyes, he was grinning at you with a level of deviousness that he didn't quite have prior. And maybe he too was just waiting for this moment, but at the same time he felt like a different person. He seemed to continue to soften his grip to tighten it again, as if he couldn't tell if you were real or not. But you didn't dare ask any questions, not when he was looking at you with almost predatory eyes. You found yourself wrapping your arms & legs around him to keep yourself up, as his grip on your tightened once again. One hand of his resting on your upper thigh and the other grabbing your ass, as he carried you. You felt like a prey, and the way he quickly made his way to a bedroom before throwing you down on the mattress spoke volumes about how eager he was to make you lose your mind.
He paused for a moment standing over you, "How much fun do we make this? How far can I push you?"
"Depends what you have in mind."
"Restraints?"
"I'm game."
"Pain?"
"Like riding crops and shit?” You asked a little curious about the idea. And Kayn simply nodded. You paused thinking about it, you never really were a very sexually active person, a couple partners here and there in the past. But you never really were the type you experimented outside of the basic handcuffs, and the occasional gag. "I guess we could give it a shot. But if I say stop, you're stopping. Otherwise I'm making a good choice."
"Good choices are boring, but I'll respect this boundary. I'm just curious how far you'll go before you shatter apart and do nothing more than just begging for me to not stop."
"You talk about big games, but I'd rather have you prove it."
"Then you'll get what you wish for."
And that was pretty much the end of most of the talking for that night. Kayn was quick, to pull your body up, a hand on your arm to pull you sitting up. And then he was gone out of the room for a moment, you could hear him going through drawers or something in another room. But once he came back there were a couple items in his hand that didn't really shock you at the moment. He had asked about all of them prior so you were prepared, just sitting ever so peacefully at the foot of his bed, while he just stood over you. You could make out sets of cuffs, a riding crop among the items but with them all being a matte black-leather like material it was hard to make out the rest in the moment. But that didn't matter when the objects were dropped down next to you. You felt frozen under his gaze, watching him and all his movements, and he could tell, giving you a smirk as his hands traveled to his belt, where he unbuckled it smoothly with one hand before pulling it off and dropping it on the floor next to him. Next his pants button, and his hand rested on the waistband, and if he wanted you to choose the next course of action. And originally you didn't move, but he took a step back, and you understood what he was suggesting. You couldn't help but to giggle softly at his way of doing this, but you still slid off his bed and onto your knees, looking up at him.
From all angles he was the most beautiful person you had seen, and it didn't stop him. His hands began to move again, undoing his zipper, and being this focused now on the ground in front of him you paid a little more attention to the very clear imprint in his pants. You should've noticed before because now you were swallowing your pride and your confidence in this ability of yours. But he didn't stop, and you didn't make any advances for him to pick up on your doubts. Kayn just kept moving, his pants slowly falling down his legs, and soon enough he was stepping out of them and kicking them to the side. You couldn't even imagine how you looked down there, staring up at him with more than lucky big doe eyes, and a clear interest in making him as crazy for you as you were for him currently. And maybe he caught onto that, because one of his hands found its way to the waistband on his underwear and was already slowly pulling them down and off, and maybe you weren't memorized as others could be by men. But you weren't disappointed by his size when you saw it. You weren't expecting it to be fairy tale huge or anything, you were expecting average at least, and he sure was larger than that but not crazy large.
Shit, watching Kayn place a hand on his shaft, stroking himself gently a couple of times as he places his other hand on your head, gently grabbing you by the hair, and pulling you with him as he went to move the both of you. You watched him sit down on the bed as he tugged you to turn before pulling you close to himself. You just let him drag you, placing your hands gently on his thighs as you found yourself pulled in between his legs. There was a minor twinge of pain from the pull, but you didn't let it bother you too much, as Kayn let go of your hair and you gently rested your head on his leg looking up at him. How much could you push it off to make it wait for it until he couldn't anymore, because you could see his eyes were already inpatient with you. You watched him shift back to rest on his elbows, an eyebrow raised as he looked from you, to his cock and back to you. "Keep giving me that face, and I could just make you gag on it."
All you did was snicker, picking up your head for a moment, one hand moving to switch places with Kayns hand on his shaft, and suddenly everything felt to click into place. His eyes softened and he grinned back at you. That was all you needed, a simple sign to show both of you were ready and comfortable. Now this is where the fun would begin for both of you.
#fanfiction#fanfic#shieda kayn#truthofself#kayn#league of legends#league of legends kayn#league of legends shieda kayn#kayn fanfic#shieda kayn fanfic#reader insert#reader x kayn#kayn x reader#shieda kayn x reader#reader fic#league of legends x reader#league of legends fanfic#xreader#x reader
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Hi! Oh, it's so good that I came across your blog! I would like to make a request. Kayn & Younger Sister!Reader. And the situation is like this. Reader is a teenager of sixteen and she has already graduated from high school. She's enrolled in college, but she'll have to move into a dorm. She begins to worry wildly, because she is afraid that she will not be accepted by completely new people for her, and also that she will be lonely and bored because Kayn is not around. You can even add scenes where Reader already lives in a dorm and communicates with Kayn via video link (for Kayn, this is a means to make sure that his sister is okay). Thank you very much!
Yay! I'm glad you came across my blog too!
I love this idea. I feel like Kayn would be an exceptional big brother 🥹. Lowkey winging it cuz I am an oooonly child hehe.
Here we go! I hope you enjoy!
P.S. Sorry it's kind of short, but I hope you like it anyway!
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The days just keep getting more stressful.
At least that's what you thought- you hadn't even began packing for your move in date to the university dorms. At only sixteen you were going to be the youngest one in the sorority, and you weren't sure how the other girls were going to react to you.
As you walked into your room with a few empty boxes in hand, you sighed at the mess on the floor. You had been so busy with celebrating your graduation from high school and your scholarship that you hadn't had time to do anything- much less clean.
You were grateful that your big brother was home for the holidays, as he was helping a lot with the upkeep of the house while your parents were constantly off working.
Feeling defeated, you let yourself crumple to the floor, landing hard on your knees which only made you feel more frustrated. You tossed the boxes blindly, causing them to crash into a few items on your bookshelf- of course it did.
Reaching up to cover your eyes, you let out a pathetic sob before completely falling into belligerence. You were a heaving, snotty mess on the floor with no hope as to how to ease the anxiety coursing through your veins.
What if the girls don't like me?
What if the professors think I'm too young to be in college?
What about Kayn? Will he miss me? Will we even get to hangout anymore?
You trembled at the thought of not being able to see your brother. He was your rock, especially in tough situations. Even now, he was so busy with his band all of the time you hardly got to see him. With you going to college, you were certain there was no hope at all.
Soft footsteps patting towards you caused you to jerk your head up and quickly wipe away your tears and running nose.
"Oh, hey Kayn. I had something in my eye," you blurt out, smiling slightly as you quickly avert your gaze from his prying one. He leaned down in a squat to your level, grabbing your chin with his fingers and forcing you to look at him.
"What's wrong? Do I need to kick someone's ass?" He says, studying your face. You sniffle and shake your head slightly in response, trying really hard not to cry again. "Then what's wrong, kid?"
"I- I'm just really worried about going to school. What if people don't like me? What if I fail or what if the professors don't think I am good enough?"
"What?! You? Not enough?! And there is literally no way that people aren't going to like you. Either way, I'm always one call away from coming to back you up. You know that, right?" Kayn smiles at you kindly, standing and reaching his hand out for you to take to stand.
"Thanks, Kayn. Love you."
"Love you too sis."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Three Weeks Later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Hi, I'm Y/N," You sheepishly reach out your hand toward your new dorm mate while tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.
"Hi! I'm Sarah. It's great to meet you! I am so excited to be your roommate!" Sarah, the short red headed girl in front of you, grabs your hand and pulls you in for a hug. "I think we are going to have a lot of fun together. Come in, let's compare classes!"
The first week was a breeze, meeting a lot of new people and luckily finding your professors eager to have a younger student in their midst.
This particular day was a Friday, and during your last class your roommate texted you.
Hey, Y/N! Come to the rec center after class, I wanna show you something!
You raised your brow in confusion, texting her back hesitantly.
Should I be worried?
Hahaha, of course not! See you theeeere!
The rest of the class was hard to focus on, as your thoughts kept drifting back to whatever your roommate could possibly be doing. She has been very nice to you since the beginning, but you couldn't help but to worry that she was doing something shady.
After class you quickly dropped your books off at your room and headed to the rec hall. It wasn't too far, about a fifteen-minute walk from the building you lived in.
The door to the hall was closed, which was unusual especially for a Friday. You quickly looked at your phone to make sure this is in fact the place that she said to go to, and after confirming you reached forward and slowly pushed open the door.
You would hit with a sudden burst of light, then a loud booming sound. You flinched, throwing your hands in front of your face.
"What the..." You started but were quickly interrupted by a group of shouting people.
"SUPRISEEEE!"
You jumped back, staring at the crowd in front of you while trying to make sense of it all.
Before you the tables were all decorated, multicolor balloons drifting from their tops. Above it all, ribbons hung from the ceiling, a big white banner in the center reading "Congratulations Y/N!".
Amidst it all you saw Kayn, his band, your mom and dad, and your roommate Sarah.
Your burst into tears.
In the short time you had been in college, you hadn't had any time to think about how much you truly missed all of them. Kayn, especially, as you hadn't had time to even consider grabbing your phone and calling them.
"Hey, hey now," You hear Kayn's voice beside you, a gentle hand rubbing your back. "Surprised?"
You nodded and lifted your head, wiping away your tears as you gripped him in a tight hug. "What the hell are you guys doing here?"
"Well, we realized we never really gave you an 'officially started college' party and thought we should probably do that. Plus, I missed my little sister!" He smiled, pulling away and dragging you towards everyone else.
Smiling, you enjoyed your evening, grateful for the best brother in the world. He always reminded you that everything was going to be okay, and he was always right.
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Recap - a Malevolent fic
A certain auteur director doesn't like to repeat himself.
Part of the Surrogate series. Written with @sepiabandensis and @sparklyandheroic.
Quick authors' note:
Hey! It's been a while! :D We had a silly little idea for a recap episode, and unfortunately Kayne has decided you're all the victims. You know how he feels about repeating himself. Hopefully this doesn't bode too ill for our protagonists...
“Listen up, kids. Listen up. It's edumacation time!”
The voice came out of nowhere. So did the pyrotechnics (though the observant might note they came with no heat—this was a library, after all), and the distinct and memorable sound of a smoke machine.
Fog poured across the floor. “Come one! Come all! To the great fan-friendly recap…ap…ap!”
A white sheet suddenly flapped open, hung from nothing in front of Tabby’s armchair.
Kayne’s voice came from nowhere. “I said, come one, come all!”
Like the floor was greased, acolytes slid quickly around the stacks, all looking startled, quite a few afraid. More armchairs appeared, some made of leather of questionable origin, some that squished uncomfortably when sat on. (One acolyte took a sample of the liquid that came out, because terminal curiosity ran through all of the Keeper’s people.)
Behind them all the Keeper let out a yip as an armchair knocked her metaphorical legs out from beneath her, skirts puffing up in a floof as she was not-unkindly deposited into a seat of her own. “Kayne! What is—”
“Better!” And there he was in the armchair next to her. Kayne had eschewed the normal suit; he was in a fluffy pink bathrobe, with matching slippers, and his hair was in curlers. He leaned over the plush arm, cupping his mouth to stage-whisper to her. “It’s a bit. No harm, no foul. We good?”
“A what?” The Keeper said, voice jumping an octave.
“It’ll be fine, Keeps,” Tabby said, sitting up in her armchair; if she didn’t try to leave it, it seemed she could wriggle around as she pleased. She peeked over the back of it, giving a little wave to the god of the Scriptorium. “It’s just movie night with big brother. Right?”
“But,” the Keeper pleaded.
Tabby mouthed ‘play along’ at her.
The Keeper sighed. “Movie night, then,” she said, twisting the edge of her veil in her hands.
His smile wasn’t… great. Tight. Eyes angry. “Well, aren’t we lucky you and your experience are here? Shall we?” He offered each of them an enormous bucket of popcorn.
Tabby took one cautious handful. “She’s still learning how to ‘yes, and’. You know. What’d they do this time?”
(Kayne knew what he was doing. He’d provided each acolyte with pen, paper, and little digital cameras to keep them occupied, not unlike giving a child crayons in a restaurant.)
“See,” he said, “we are the audience. That is, we are the stand-in for the audience, who knows who they are, and knows what they did! Or if they don’t, they will. They should know…” His voice dropped an octave. “I don’t. Like. To repeat myself. But it’s that old expression…" He smiled, smooth and baritone again. "‘Those who don’t listen have to feel.’ You know that one? Here’s another: ‘Some people have to learn the hard way.’ And… action!” He snapped his fingers.
There hadn’t been a projector between them a moment before, but now there was. With a whir, it started.
“I understand you’re upset,” the Keeper said gently. “Perhaps you and I should just—”
Tabby twisted in her seat, eyes wide, shaking her head with warning.
The Keeper let out a small sigh, fingers twisting unnaturally amongst each other.
An old-fashioned title-card appeared on the sheet, flickering in black and white: MALEVOLENT: A PRIMER. REEL ONE NOT FOR DISTRIBUTION.
Kayne’s voice sounded not from him (his mouth was full), but from the creaky vintage wall-speakers that appeared in the air around the chairs.
“In the beginning of time,” said Speakers Kayne, and the white sheet suddenly filled with a slow-motion explosion.
Explosion was the wrong word. It was expansion, void-excision, movement and light and depth, a universe being born. It was jerky, a sixteen-frames-per-second view of the past; and at the core of it ( light heat darkness things for which there were no words ) sat a cluster of gods.
Everyone there could feel them. Like their presence was here, now.
No one made a sound.
“Hold on a minute,” said Speakers Kayne, followed by a record screech. “Too far back.”
But the reel (if that’s what it was) didn’t stop, and in the moment before the projector seemed to run out of film, its end smacking against the picture head, they all saw a blob of darkness and a million eyes sort of gooping eagerly into a field of shockingly yellow flowers, somehow splashing like water as if in joy for discovering the color.
The reel changed. Flickering, tinny music rolling through, a player piano doing its best. Speakers Kayne resumed. “You all remember this, ” he said, and it was Arthur Lester’s office. No, Parker Yang’s office, shared with Arthur, only Parker was dead. Very dead, throat squeezed so hard it was permanently misshapen. Beside the body, Arthur curled up, gasping. In front of them lay a book.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” said Speakers Kayne, and the film sped up.
The Scriptorium understood timelines. It wasn’t like anyone there didn’t know this story. But it was one thing to know it, and another to watch it—fast, jerky, funny if the content weren’t so horrific. Arthur and John, on the run. Arthur and John, fighting, killing, driving, crashing. Arthur and John, being lured to the Dreamlands through trickery and mindless obedience. Arthur and John, in terrible, terrible trouble.
The reel ran out in the prison pits.
“Sorry, but we’re doing a time-skip,” said Speakers Kayne. “That one’s a lot of the same thing, you know—back and forth, to the shit-corner and back, eating a guy and crying… blah, blah blah. On we go!”
The new reel started, just as fast.
Amazing, how brief Hastur’s appearance was in this form. Blip: there and gone, descending on Arthur like some kind of magician’s silk cloth, then disappearing again.
Then suddenly, the reel froze. It froze on Arthur in the snow, losing so much blood—impossibly red and shocking in this black and white image. It froze on his face, tormented, agony and pain, twisting him almost into someone else, as his tears froze on his cheeks.
“He ain’t cryin’ over spilt milk!” said Speakers Kayne as though that was just the funniest damn thing on earth.
“Brother,” said the Keeper, and the word was not just coming from her but resonating through the ground, rumbling up through the armchairs.
“Easy,” Tabby said.
“Oh, no no, I’m not being mean! It’s because this is actually the big moment. The moment it all changed for him,” said Speakers Kayne.
“Boo,” said Armchair Kayne. “Keep the commentary to yourself!” He threw some popcorn, which stained the sheet with buttery grease.
Speakers Kayne ignored himself. “See, this is where I… take a hand in things.”
The reel resumed. Faster. Pulling away, as if whatever view this was hung on a rope. Away from the snow, away from the continent, until Earth shrunk to a tiny blue dot, until they were in Carcosa.
Hastur was screaming.
Silent. Which somehow made it worse, arching back, arms and tentacles out, freakishly stop-motion-like, damn near losing his form and reverting to the oily blob that once fell in love with flowers.
“See, here, ” said Speakers Kayne, “is where I decide what to do. Sometimes, I take just a little bit!”
A blurred movement on the screen which this jerky, sixteen-frames-per-second reel could never have portrayed, smooth and bright and shocking. It felt like a knife, somehow, like some kind of scalpel swung at speed.
The Hastur on screen didn’t seem to notice.
The view changed: suddenly, it was a hand, Kayne’s hand, holding a wriggling, struggling piece of yellow cloth about the size of a young cat. Tiny black tentacles flailed from its bottom; still, it was silent.
“See? My own little proto-Yellow, ready to insert!” said Kayne. “Different sizes do different things. You can tell THE AUDIENCE —” the words echoed outside the Scriptorium, into distant halls and distant ears, into the awareness of those who thought they were safe, thought it was just a story—“that their favorite version is… well, all of him.”
Back to Carcosa.
Back to Hastur, grieving, going through rubble, visibly losing his shit.
And a giant hand came out of nowhere and grabbed him, same as the former hand had held the tiny slice.
“Yoink!” said Armchair Kayne, throwing more popcorn.
(The more observant of acolytes realized at this point that the grease stains were forming some very dangerous runes, and averted their eyes.)
Giant Kayne (with a backdrop of planets, of spinning galaxies) smiled at the camera, eyes in full shadow, and gave the other half of the King in Yellow a shake. “Would you believe there’s a timeline where this guy is in Larson?” He threw back his monumental head and laughed, each guffaw shaking the room, rattling the bookshelves.
Then he tossed the King over his shoulder.
“But that’s not what you get!” announced Speakers Kayne, and the reel… rewound.
Back to Carcosa. Back to Hastur, barely maintaining his form, flying over rubble and trying to find anything left, anything that survived, anyone.
That impossibly smooth white swipe again, like the flash of a knife. “Different sizes do different things!” said Speakers Kayne again. “Anyone remember this guy?”
A tiny golden hamster appeared—strange, with little horns and little face tentacles, in an airy, clean cage on a table they all recognized—as the thing sat less than twenty feet away.
“The Yellow that made was a real menace! But what was left barely squeaked by,” said Speakers Kayne, and a laugh-track followed.
None of the acolytes laughed.
“What was left of Hamstur was too small, but I’ll tell you what… then it became a challenge!” said Speakers Kayne, and once again, the reel rewound.
Once again, Carcosa—the King, on the ground now and draped like a funeral shroud over some body no one could recognize in the condition it had been left.
Swipe.
The hand reappeared. In it sat a tiny, tiny Hastur.
Music piped over it: “Suuuuunny days, sweeping the… clouds away…”
“Sunny?” gasped someone.
“Yep!” said Speakers Kayne, fourth walls be damned. “At least, I assume one of you said his cute widdle name, so anyway: smallest version of this guy I could get with any sort of independence or personality. Speaking of personality!”
The reel ended.
Awkwardly, taking his time, making it hurt, Armchair Kayne rose, took the old reel off, and fumbled with the new one, muttering. One of his hair-curlers fell out and bounced under Tabby’s seat.
The reel started again.
Addison. A portrait showing a man, Larson, from a hundred years ago.
The reel sped up even more quickly, as if this wasn’t worth anyone’s time.
Armchair Kayne plopped back in his seat. “Boo! Unremarkable! Boo!”
And then Arthur—
Wait. This wasn’t what happened. Was it?
Arthur went to New York City.
The Butcher almost got him (and their shotgun race through apartments was… something to watch at this speed).
He met with Charlie Dowd-Noel, and sprang the Butcher, and they all headed up north to face the Order of the Fallen Star, and…
Through the speakers, high-pitched, came Arthur’s frustrated sped-up voice: “Larson’s not here?”
Wah-wah-waaaaah, sounded a sad trombone. “Sunny too liddol,” said Speakers Kayne. “Too tiny. No projection. So Larson missed the party in his honor. Alack and alas!”
The whole affair still went to shit.
Elder Things, a freaky machine, cultists all over, a horrifying-looking man (“Stupid Vizier!” shouted Armchair Kayne. “Boo!”) with some kind of thing on his head, its tentacles buried deep in his eyes and ears, dried blood no one had bothered to clean all over his face, dried in streaks down his neck.
The cult died, messily and bloodily, defending nothing.
At the end, Arthur still stood. So did Charlie Dowd.
So did the Butcher, but whoever was in control of this film didn’t care about him. Arthur and Dowd—Noel—limped out. (Armchair Kayne laughed: “Look at ‘em go!”) They drove back to the city. Noel, there, handing documents to Arthur before they parted ways.
Arthur, stopping by the hospital—
(And there was a flash just a glimpse just a moment of Kayne standing above Daniel’s bed with that same galactic smile, eyes in shadow)
—just in time to say goodbye before Daniel died from his wounds.
Grieving, weeping, Arthur fled.
“You see,” said Speakers Kayne, and several acolytes jumped, “at this point, he couldn’t stay. He’d be implicated in so many murders! I mean, that would’ve been fun, but Noel was…” A sigh. “A good friend, and got him out. Papers. Names. Look at him go!”
The driving, though sped-up, was kept in its entirety. Arthur, driving, John’s eyes and hand navigating, as daylight slid over his face and abandoning it to darkness, as headlights played across his pale cheeks to show his still-falling tears.
“They fucked off!” said Speakers Kayne. “To Vermont! Oh, look how cute it is!”
A brief zoom-in on a door with “Peter Saltzman, P.I.” in stencil.
The reel ran out. This time, like the first, it replaced itself.
Music started—a tinny, solo violin, as the camera pulled back slowly from that closed door.
And it was interrupted by Arthur’s scream.
“See,” said Speakers Kayne, “he couldn’t get away now. Too many things just got Fucking Lestered (how’s that for a tag), and between the nightmare-eater and our lovely King, he couldn’t be left alone. Bad dreams! Bad memories! I, uh. Wasn’t as involved here as I should’ve been, to be perfectly honest. Kinda missed what Blondie was doing? Arthur failed my test, see (and this is an aside to the audience you’re standing in for, you lucky devils). Without a worthless little man and his fucked-up god-piece to follow, they never found what I wanted, so I’d moved on. But then!”
Another title card appeared: MEANWHILE IN ANOTHER WORLD...
Hastur.
Hastur, casting dangerous spells, the kind of wild magic that required even him to create a rune circle, to set protections. Hastur, casting some magic with all his limbs raised and dripping as if it had cost him much blood.
And an infant girl appearing in the center of the circle and beginning to cry.
“Oh wait, wait!” said Speakers Kayne. “Also!”
A third title card appeared:MEANWHILE IN ANOTHER OTHER WORLD...
A woman. A goddess of some kind, with black hair, and pale skin, and they knew her even if they didn’t know her, and—
“Nevermind that bitch,” said Speakers Kayne with a weirdly frustrated affection, and the film sped up yet again, granting the briefest glimpses of this woman dressed in red, of this woman reaching into darkness as if into the aether, and of Arthur twisting in bed, tormented by dreams.
The excess speed suddenly stopped.
The reel continued to roll, but abruptly, it was not jerky, not old-timey at all. No: right now, it was real.
They were all staring through the sheet at a broken-down school-house basement, abandoned somewhere in Vermont, where Arthur Lester, on his knees, gawked toward a young Faroe.
She was precious. Dressed in yellow, happy, healthy, and her little brow knit as she tried so hard to do… whatever she was trying to do here. “You should say sorry,” she said in a high, sweet voice. “Since you were bad.”
The cracking sound was sharp, loud, echoing. It hurt; several acolytes put their hands over their ears, and all of them jumped.
Arthur… lost all his color.
The rest of this scene continued to play out for a few moments, in this grimy old basement: the little girl, all a-glow in health; the god behind her, gleaming and smearing as if whatever camera this was couldn’t quite hold his image; and Arthur, who was now gray, who was black and white, as if he no longer belonged in the scene at all.
“But you know all that, ” said Speakers Kayne, and without giving anyone time to process anything, the film sped up again. It went back to projection on a sheet, but this time, it stayed full-color.
They saw Arthur go to Carcosa.
They saw him skinned. (Blood dripped to the floor, staining the edges of the sheet.)
They saw him marked, though not what caused it. (“Boo!” shouted Armchair Kayne. “There was some good sex in the Woods, too, afterward,” he told Tabby in over-loud confidence, “but you know how it is—a good director never shows his face on film.”)
They saw Faroe grow, and Arthur adapt (but he stayed gray). They saw John rage, and Dis get involved, and Arthur finally put on some weight (but Arthur stayed gray).
They saw music, and glimpses of the beginning of Rites (“Gotta keep the archive warnings consistent, I guess, ” said Armchair Kayne), and preparation for the Games, and Faroe—
A moment of Faroe, holding The Once and Future King.
Fast forward.
Faroe running away. Hastur taking Arthur and John on a road-trip from hell to find her. Hastur’s son (“He doesn’t know any of this part,” said Armchair Kayne), Gokar’luh, making so many preparations, first fueled with the smoldering embers of being wronged and the bellows of a revenge promised, and then, when Faroe spoke to him with kindness, a moment where that armor cracked and he wept for the unjustness of it all. His tears were bright as gold.
Disaster.
For a moment, the screen went dark. Someone made a low, choked sound, like an abortive sob.
It resumed, quick again, flitting from scene to scene.
Hastur. (With a gray crack through his whole form, like he was a photograph that had been badly folded.
Parker. (The film slowed a bit to show his little adventure, stealing and rescuing Sunny, and their time on the run.)
Larson. (Only in red tights and with his Van Dyke, though, as if earlier moments didn’t deserve the footage.)
Dagon getting involved, and gods beginning to question what the hell was going on with this composer, and Faroe growing sure and strong atop her striding beast, and Dis reluctantly drawn into the drama ( “Lestered!!” both Kaynes said at once).
Hastur slipping out at night to make Carcosa safe, Hastur making new enemies who were then defeated, Dickensian-looking Ialdagorth sneering directly at the camera, Arthur poisoned (and the reel, for no reason, focused on him throwing up horrible black chunks for more than a moment too long), and John forgetting who he was (and… growing? Bigger? Glimpses of his whole self, too large for Arthur, leaking out his colorless pores), and the crack in Hastur widening, and Arthur still gray, and a birds-eye view of a crazy double-birthday celebration with a genuinely heartwarming image of Arthur (still gray and shocking against that bright-lit sky) holding Faroe, atop some tower, watching the pyrotechnics, his head resting on hers.
A single second (sound included) of a full-color three-dimensional deeply enthusiastic Odd getting deeply, enthusiastically railed by—
“Oops, sorry! Even the best directors screw up sometimes,” said Speakers Kayne, and cackled. “Anyway, he was into it.”
“No, really, he was into it,” said Armchair Kayne. “Like, a lot. Which I say because there was some confusion. ”
And suddenly the reel was done.
THE END? appeared in a title card, followed by six seconds of wildly dramatic music over a groundhog looking absolutely aghast.
Armchair Kayne stood, whooping and clapping, as the lights came back up.
Everyone felt… dazed. Dizzy. Acolytes took eyes off of the screen and shared glances with each other. Some looked visibly nauseous, trembling in the seats; others wiped blood from their eyes.
Kayne’s clapping slowed. His smile faded. His eyes darkened, as if the curlers in his hair were somehow casting impenetrable shadow. “Pity,” he said.
It was obviously leading. The silence had to break. “Wh… what is?” said someone.
“They made me repeat myself.” Kayne shook his head, tsk -ing softly. “They’re going to regret they did.”
And he vanished.
The projector exploded, pieces skittering across the floor.
All the armchairs he’d conjured vanished, dumping acolytes onto their asses. Notes scattered everywhere, and one checked to see if the liquid sample had vanished or not. It had not.
“Keeps?” said Tabby slowly. “What… what the fuck just happened?”
The god’s sigh was heavy. “Something that bodes very, very ill for the players of Carcosa. At least he gave us some warning.”
“Should we try and warn them?” Tabby said, twisting in her chair.
“It won’t help. They’re not even the targets, someone else is.” The Keeper sank into her chair, boneless, miserable. “I hope you lot are happy.”
Tabby frowned. “Who?”
“Don’t worry about it,” the Keeper sighed.
Abandoned on the floor, the grease-stained sheet shivered as if alive, until an acolyte finally took it away to study.
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NOTES
A tinny, solo violin
A groundhog looking absolutely aghast
Glorious baby-Hastur-loves-yellow drawn by @flamdoodles!
#malevolent#malevolent au#malevolent fic#surrogate fic#surrogate series#surrogate malevolent#kayne malevolent#spoilers
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CONGRATS ON FINISHING IF THESE WALLS COULD TALK!! I literally found it on ao3 the day before yesterday and obsessed over it sm I finished it within slightly more than a day,,, haha,,,
(The last chapter dropped when I was a bit more than halfway through, bless your immaculate timing because I got to consume the whole thing in one go.)
Reading the whole thing was such an experience; I would read one chapter and get cavities from all the tooth-rotting fluff, then angst over the next because EzKayn was going through it. (Let's ignore the fact that it's exam season... and I've just been reading between studying... Your writing is too addicting;;;)
All my rambling aside, thank you so much for investing so much time and effort to write us this fanfic!! 😭🙏🏻 It's made me laugh and cry, but suffering through the sad parts was so worth it and the ending made me so happy :(
Rest well, you did amazing finishing such a long piece, I'll be looking forward to the epilogue in the future!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
omg hiiiii!! <3
first, oh my GOD you read this in almost a day??? that's bonkers to me, it even takes me (with my author-glazed-over-read-speed) quite a while to get back through it to look for particular details. i'm amazed you'd read it all that fast. i'm glad you liked it so much!!
(i'm also glad the timing worked out for you, wouldn't want you to be left on a cliffhanger, especially with this work. must've felt crazy good to get that lucky, huh?)
ahhh yes. it was super emotionally draining and exhilarating to write, so i hope that came off the same way for you. i love this fic so much, it's literally been my baby since even slightly before november (it was a meme at first, a part of chapter six was actually the first thing i ever wrote for this fic:
and promptly became the reason i finished the fic at all because i couldn't let the joke go. funny how that happens isn't it?), and ezreal + kayn have really left their mark on me here. i got to explore their lives, emotions, and relationship with each other to such an extent that i'm almost struggling to shake it properly to start work on something new. they really come with so many struggles and emotions to make themselves work together, but it's so gratifying when they eventually slot into each other's lives just perfectly.
also dw, everything up until chapter 12 was also written during my exam season. the siren's call of ezkayn was simply too much to ignore. i'm so lucky i finished the fic before spring finals (wish me luck with those lol) -- i hope you did well on yours too <3
thank you, my friend, for your support! this comment warms my heart so much to hear that you loved it just as much as i did. i hope my next projects will also be some of your favorites <3
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@prideofnazumah from 💜
Somehow, every time this happens, Kayn thinks it'll be the last time. He thinks, this is the last time I break down, this is the last time I let anyone else see me like this.
It never is. He always lies.
They're surrounded by the ruins of his creative session, the words that Rhaast made him scribble even though they hurt, even though Kayn realised, too late, he wasn't ready to dig that deep into himself today. It was too much, but when Rhaast starts, it's impossible to get him to stop.
He doesn't know why he reached out to K'Sante, really. The last thing he wants to do is bother his bandmates with his stupid issues — it's what got him kicked out before, after all, but K'Sante was there, and Kayn, as usual couldn't keep it to his fucking self.
Kayn feels, rather than sees, K'Sante's arm settle over his shoulders. They still shake with the odd heaving breath, but he's mostly stopped crying now.
Fuck, he can't believe he cried in front of K'Sante. What's wrong with him?
He's folded in on himself, arms around his legs and forehead on his knees, like he can't bear to let K'Sante see his face like this. Come to me before it gets this bad, K'Sante says, but ...
"I can't," Kayn says, voice strained and rough from crying. "I'm so fucking annoying. You'll hate me too."
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The Serpent and the Assassin
A drabble gift for @singulos !!
It started almost a year ago. A curious snake-troll who wandered about, and meeting Shieda Kayn; A Shadow Assassin-And Rhaast, a Darkin being. Wary at first, until seeing the immense battle damaged scars on both arms. Considering the fact, Soldan was tough and took a lot of hard hits for far too long.
Upon asking on how to learn shadow magic, taking her under as his apprentice.
The first few days weren't simple, step by step and falling into her own shadow from lack of focus. Soldan was treated well throughout, starting small and getting more advanced with progression. Eventually, feelings started within reason; Kayn and Rhaast admired her, for the hard work effort and deadly precision in combat.
"Kayn, I suggest you start talking to her before I do." Rhaast was watching, yet in weapon form only. Just as inqusitive, intently. Kayn sighed. "In due time, Rhaast. We have better things to focus on, she's under our protection and for what? Master Zed doesn't know about Soldan."
The Darkin groaned, annoyed. The singular eye, squinting. "In due time?! We have NO time. Go, before I take over!" That, was a threat. He walked over, deciding to try. Soldan looked up, taking a break from practice. "Oh, Hi Kayn!" casually smiling. His face heated up, she was cute-yet deadly. "You're improving more, even without me watching. I'm surprised how fast you catch on."
Soldan gave a quit laugh. "What can I ssay? I adapt, and learn when I get the chance to." Kayn nodded, looking away. "See? Was that so hard?" Rhaast snarkily added, he was going to have a turn next. Night came like a shroud. She was out on patrol, until seeing an unusually bright glow; Crimson red eyes, from a taller being.
"So, we finally get to meet." The voice was deep, almost gutteral. Stepping out, a tall Darkin. Soldan blinked, tilting her head. "Aren't you...?" could've sword, he always carried a menacing smile. "Yes, and you'll be ours eventually." running a clawed finger under her chin lightly, tilting it up a bit.
Odd, he seemed scary in the Darkin War Era, killing those on sight.
But not towards Soldan. This felt different.
Soldan snapped out of the flashback, shaking herself awake with a huff. That was a long time to go back on, hiding in the shadow of a tree. Though attention diverted, a small black box.
Walking over and opening it, a jade ring. There was note attached, inside- 'Will you marry me?' Soldan recalled her fallout from the past, deciding to let it go. Moving on from such mishaps. "I will, Kayn...and Rhaast. If the two are nearby." shrugging, putting the ring on.
A sudden movement, face held gently between his hands and a deep kiss. Blushing intensely violet, startled. They've been dating for several months, now soon to be married to an assassin of shadow and a darkin?
"You've made me the happiest man ever, Shieda Soldan." pressing his forehead on hers, adoringly. Rhaast piped up, shortly after. "And, I'll slaughter those who dare try anything to hurt her..." She rolled her eyes, "You know I can alsso hear you, right? I'm flattered, I'm happy to be your wife when we arrange a wedding day."
"Our wife to be, and I trained you well." Kayn hugged her tightly and snuck another kiss, Rhaast just watched. "Ugh, human feelings."
#{Drabble; Fluff}#singulos#Intertwined by the dark; Shieda Kayn x Soldan x Rhaast#Bound by the shadow order {Married Verse}; Shieda Kayn x Soldan x Rhaast
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Hello, love your work! May I request SFW + NSFW headcannons for Zed?
As a disclaimer, the difference in age between Zed and the reader isn't too great. Around 7 or 8 years - and by the time their relationship starts, the reader is a young adult. Around 20 years old.
Second disclaimer: this is a very long post. I apologize to anon for that.
SFW:
- You met Zed in a very unexpected way and, truth to be told, you never imagined that you two might ever become lovers.
- You became a honorific member of the Order of Shadows because Zed was indebted to your parents. As strong political figures in the world of Ionia, they had helped him and his Order many times - standing by his side from the dark, misty shadows of the councils. Supporting his cause.
- When they died - assassinated, nonetheless - you were heartbroken. But, as their only child, you were sent to the safest place in Ionia: Zed's sanctuary.
- Zed silently mourned the tragic death of your parents. And while he could hardly swallow the fact that such a young girl - barely a woman - would live in his order, it was the least he could do for your deceased mother and father.
- The first time he saw you... he felt a pang of shock and nostalgia. As a child, you looked identical to your mother. But now... now you looked like neither of your parents.
- No, you looked like your grandmother. A woman full of prestige and respect in the whole land. A woman Zed had always respected with his whole devotion. Willing to fight for Ionia until her very last drop of blood - a dignified and incredibly strong woman, both in body and soul.
- Physically, you did look like her. But... ah, yes. The determination and steel in your eyes. Yes, you shared the same spirit as her.
- Maybe that's why Zed took such a high interest in you. Maybe that's why he started, little by little, to care for you more than he should've ever allowed himself to.
- As time passed, you started opening yourself more to him - and to the members of the order.
- You had vowed to avenge your parents, no matter what. You had a strong character - but, at the same time, you were as gentle as the first rays of dawn and as brilliant as the sun of a bright July afternoon.
- You exhaled spring and summer. You were a breath of pure, refreshing air in the dark, hallowed hallways of Zed's home.
- For the order, you were a direct example of the things they were fighting for. In you, they saw every young girl or woman of Ionia, wishing for a brighter and better future - innocent as the melting snow of a late spring.
- Zed didn't keep you under a lock in the order. He would take you to the vast hills, forests and waterfalls to be found outside of the grim labyrinth he dedicated his life to.
- He spent so many hours watching you harvest the bounty of summer and autumn. With a white summer dress and that wide straw hat you would wear you looked like an innocent, sinful delight.
- Zed realized too late that his platonic desire to watch you slowly turned into brewing lust.
- It came to his mind one August evening as he watched you from underneath an old tree. He kept a close eye on you, admiring your sun kissed skin in contrast to the yellow dress you were wearing. It only made everything else brighter. Your eyes, your smile. The rainbow of gentle, soft colors in your hair, shining like precious stones under the sun.
- When he caught the shiver of lust wrecking his body, he recoiled in repulsion.
- Repulsion directed to his own person.
- You were his friends' daughter.
- How could he even think of you as a woman?
- Of course, he was well aware of your beauty. You ravished the heart of one too many disciples. They wouldn't even dare to make a move - you were Zed's most prized protege.
- Not even Kayn dared say anything about you - in his absence or presence.
- After all, Zed had eyes and ears everywhere.
- From then on, Zed became distant. Cold.
- You figured it out fairly quickly. As innocent as you were, you knew the power of your own charms. The power of your youth.
- You didn't have to be a beauty or an incredibly attractive woman - you only had to be yourself. And that was enough.
- Your smile, your youthful energy... it ravished him.
- Oh, how he longed to bask in your light - to enjoy the gentle sun of youth in your presence. You were a sun to him, warming up his calloused heart.
- For your young age, you were incredibly intuitive and sensitive to the energy of those around you. And, of course, you easily felt the effect you had on him.
- After all, it was quite similar to the effect you had on his students. But... it left you confused. Vulnerable. So similar, yet so different.
- Things were different with him. While you wouldn't have minded the shameless flirt with one disciple or another, only to burst into a childish smile full of radiance and leave them yearning for more as you ran outside to play or dance your worries away - with Zed things were so tense and...
- You couldn't really describe it. You didn't know what Zed would do, after all. What would happen if you flirted with him?
- Would he scold you the way he did when you trained with him? Would he accept it? Would he give in?
- You shivered at the thought of how he might react. When he allowed you to go to visit the few female friends you had in nearby villages - always followed in the shadows by him or the guards he assigned you, of course - you would hear so many stories. You had a vague idea of what love meant for a woman. Or... what to expect. But you were too innocent to know the full extent of it.
- Yet, you felt lust. Zed was a dominant and strong man. It was hard not to, as you grew older and older until you reached your ripest moment of youth. It was hard to not observe or admire him with the eyes of a woman.
- One of your friends once called him delicious.
- You couldn't help but agree.
- Your slow dance around each other came to an end one late October evening.
- It had been a cold, rainy day. As such, you spent it inside the Order's headquarters, reading and lazing around with your novels. As you got bored, you moved in silence to Zed's study.
- He knew you were sneaking in - but he never said anything to scold or push you away.
- You were his one guilty weakness, after all. The only one he could afford.
- Zed did it only because he knew you would be safer with him than with anyone else in this world.
- As you sneaked in, you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders the way you always did. But this time... this time, things would be different. For a moment, you briefly wondered if he could feel your erratic heartbeat.
- But as no objection came from him, you leaned to look over his shoulder with a hum. "You're working too much." He only answered to you with a soft tap on the paper - a warning.
- With a bold move, you slipped into his lap with an apologetic smile. "You should work less now - and pay more attention to me instead."
- You felt him grow stiff under your soft weight. Surprised. Shocked. Caught unaware. You knew how much Zed hated it - but you couldn't sit around doing nothing. Not anymore.
- "You have grown very spoiled, little sun." You heard him grit his teeth, a low growl in his voice. A very obvious and threatening warning. You were pushing him too far.
- Still, what would happen if he were to break?
- So you did it.
- You shifted your position to a more daring one, your warm thighs enveloping his lap in a bold statement. Maybe this shocked him too much into stillness. Maybe this is why he didn't move in the slightest as you took off his mask - and pressed a soft kiss on his pale, cold lips.
NSFW:
- Unsurprisingly, your action killed Zed inside. He wasn't a person to chase physical pleasure. When he reached a point of frustration, he would find one or two willing women to quench his lust - no emotions, no second meetings.
- But you were different. You were something to be loved and cherished. You were... innocent. Pure.
- Maybe not so innocent - that was his impression as he looked down on you with angry, dilated pupils. As much as you tried to cower under his unnerving glance, as much as you tried to look innocent... you knew it wouldn't work on him.
- You also knew that, no matter what might happen next, you wouldn't regret it.
- You only hoped it would help settle the fire between your thighs, so closely and intimately pressed to his.
- What you didn't expect was the tight grip on your shoulders, pushing you back against his desk until he was above you - a whimper escaping your lips as his hot, throbbing pelvis pressed between your quivering thighs. Your rumpled dress left your legs exposed, vulnerable. It almost made you feel ashamed.
- "I believe someone is feeling their age a bit too much." His heated words, right next to your ear, made your breath hitch. It sent almost painful shivers down your body, warming your flesh down to your toes.
- Even for his solitary life, Zed was still a very experienced man. He was a perfectionist. He would always be an expert in everything he did - combat, reading people or pleasing his partners.
- As such, he knew how to read you like an open book.
- He also knew how to drive you crazy.
- If you wanted him, so be it.
- But he would make you earn it. And he would make you pay for being a little brat with him.
- "Do you think I'm one of my students, little sun? Do you think I'll accept your teasing and let you run away?" He watched you shake your head with a teary daze in your bright eyes. Yes, the lust was getting to you. And as he rolled his hips against you with a strength and force only he possessed, he realized it was getting to his head as well - more rapidly so as he heard your stifled, confused little moan.
- "Or do you want something more? Is that why you've been looking with those hungry eyes at me these past months? Is that why you're more focused on staring at my body than learning proper combat?" Another roll - another moan from your innocent, untouched rosy lips. It sent such delicious ripples of pleasure down his spine.
- "Do you truly want to know how a man feels? Do you think you're prepared for that?" Your spine arched painfully against him - and Zed didn't waste the opportunity to wrap his strong arm around your body, biting down almost painfully on your shoulder.
- You were a shivering mess in his arms, almost crazy with lust and desire.
- And nothing had ever felt more like home than the moment when he filled you so deeply with his cock, driving into you like a man dying of thirst - or the moment you rested your head on his shoulder, wrapped in his warmth and security. Safe. Home.
- He was your home.
- At that point, Zed knew he couldn't let you go. Not until you would push him away mercilessly.
- Until then, he would always be by your side.
- In lovemaking, Zed is a very dominant man. He enjoys your innocence and youth. He enjoys how small you are or how well you fit in his arms. There's nothing he adores more than holding your hands above your head or behind your back, fucking you roughly into the soft and almost luxurious covers of his bed.
- There's nothing he enjoys more than hearing your almost pained moans, feeling you quiver in intense, almost overwhelming pleasure.
- He is quite a large man - but by the time he gives in to your desire, you would be more than ready for him. He always takes his time with foreplay, prolonging it and frustrating you to no end.
- He adores edging you. Bringing you to the brink of orgasm time after time after time - only to offer you, with his cock, the satisfaction you desire.
- You will never feel lacking when it comes to your sex life. And while you do have your own problems, like every couple, Zed has enough wisdom and experience to deal with them in a mature and calm manner - and to show you the way to do so as well.
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WIP guessing game!
Fell (falls, fallen, etc), blurted, laughed
Too Many WIPs part two.
"My spoon must have fallen out,” Jarvan said as he used a folded towel to pick up his bowl from where it was practically nestled into the coals.
It’s not like all her other plans hadn’t fallen through today.
Shouldering into the mud-room, still laughing and talking, it seemed even muddier than usual to Lux, but she brushed the thought aside, heading into the kitchen.
They work together and then he falls asleep with his head in her lap.
Her hand fell away, but he was still tense, and he coiled even tighter when she stepped behind him.
And again he pressed on, one hand slapping at his thigh as he walked, until it fell into a rhythm and he had to change, slapping at his cheek or running his hand over his face instead.
When he stumbled at last onto Kertonha Hill he almost fell at the lifting of the great weariness that had tried, and failed, to consume him.
His anger at the tricks and blockades he had faced fell away.
Draven laughs.
He nodded, then silently opened the bedroom door with its whimsical decoration of a universe's worth of stars, moons and planets falling through a basketball hoop.
They fell in a spiral of bent space, her stomach lurching despite the acclimation she'd gained from her experiences as a Star Guardian.
Fixed together as a stable pair, they fell through a smear of unfamiliar scenes, sounds stretched and blurred into unrecognizable noise.
Finally his eyes widened and he blurted, “Holy shit! He fucked you pregnant?”
Her own features twisted into some distorted form of amusement at his reaction, as if she might laugh, but not in any way that would be pleasant.
A pained laugh broke through the constriction in his throat and he shook his head.
Of course, then she took a half-sidestep too far and fell into the pool.
Bruce let out a breath that was a laugh, before sucking it back in for the oxygen.
The trunk had already closed itself after she made her exit, so she didn’t have to worry about Ezreal falling out, but she kept to a reasonable speed because she didn’t want to get mired in the grass.
Lux: *Laughs so hard she almost falls of the bed.*
He was too close, and though he grunted at the impact his hands wrapped around her wrists and they fell together.
The entire bullpen broke out in appreciative laughter at Draven’s dramatic retelling of Darius’ embarrassing take-down.
Draven let loose a laugh of pure enjoyment.
Yachof and Argill fell in behind him.
A bark of laughter drew his attention to Yachof.
Talon waits briefly after Darius departs and then claims Darius was Talon in disguise, which Sion falls for and chases after him leaving the door unguarded, though initially Talon is hustled along with him by other guards.
Darius breaks away to chase Talon, and is so hard on his heels he falls into a floor trap Talon only just noticed (and barely avoided by going to the ceiling).
Kayne uses a sweep of his scythe to extinguish Talon as he falls into their car.
“..probably her hammock’s gettin’ a bit saggy, aye?” Gangplank said with a nasty laugh, sending a companionable elbow toward Draven’s side.
It was the kind of laugh you hear from someone who doesn’t want to admit they didn’t understand the joke.
The sound of their voices rising and falling in the next room was strangely soothing and, lulled by the soft conversation and the comfortable bed, he fell asleep.
The supportive hand fell away as he crossed the threshold, but by then his feet were moving in time.
He expected Draven to laugh, or brush it off, but instead he looked up, meeting Darius’ eyes with a brief, serious look before returning his attention to Lux.
Garen laughed, and kissed him in return, crawling up onto the bed as Darius scooted back.
"Shall I turn you over and shake to see what falls out?”
The Demacians didn’t bring anything secret or important here where it might fall into Noxian hands either.
Darius unfastened his cloak and let it fall, then loosened the buckles on his hands and pulled his own gloves off.
When he finally fell into bed, mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted, he still didn’t have an answer.
Darius watched the muscles in her flank flex and pull as she moved, delicate fingers plucking and releasing until the smooth twist of golden hair drooped and fell, cascading over her shoulders.
Her hair tickled his chest where it fell down over her shoulders, shining gold reflecting the light of his gaudies.
The endless words of encouragement fell from his lips, automatic and thoughtless.
He fell into step beside her as she resumed her march down the hall.
"Are you married to Darius?” Garen blurted out, breaking Darius’ train of thought.
Draven laughed, and, not to be outdone, sent his axes spinning into another two training dummies, reducing them to fragments as well.
Darius stiffened when he heard Talon laugh around the corner ahead.
When he gave them to her that night she had laughed as she fastened them, and joked, “I guess I can’t walk the square anymore now, can I?”
Eyes wide with disbelief met his and she matched his grin with a shriek of laughter as he pulled her in.
She laughed, more startled and strained than amused. It was nothing like her laugh of delight, but she let him pull her close again, the side of her face resting on his ribs.
He was trying to sound soothing, or at least reasonable, but it was hard when he wanted to laugh out loud.
Behind him he heard a few soft wheezes that he could now identify as Swain’s laughter, while before him the Noxian half of the audience twitched at this twist.
A soft laugh filled his chest and tinted his voice.
Garen’s laugh boomed out.
She laughed, sliding her hands up to run her fingers through his hair.
“Fine, fine,” she said, laughter creeping in at the edges.
She laughed, and rose up, walking backwards on her knees, hands cupped over her breasts.
Talon laughed, while Lux somehow managed to hoist her nose even higher in the air before flouncing off down the hall.
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Heyhey! Can I request some Yas / Kayn HCs where they confess their feelings to the reader? I love your blog sm🥺💖, have a nice day!
Thank you anon! These got a bit long but I think they came out well! So enjoy the Boi’s!
They confess their love
Kayn
-Awkward boi time. He doesn’t really understand love but he’s pretty sure what he’s feeling for you is love. It’s that warm feeling where you want to hold hands and kiss and just be in each other’s presence. Also when you want to kill anyone that gets too close to them. That’s love right?
-He’ll be very weird and stiff around you, feeling genuine soft feelings is weird for him. It’s like he’s fighting with himself and both sides are losing. He’s usually very confident in his decisions but he’s having such a hard time confessing to you. He’ll jolt when you call to him, which will scare the crap out of you, then he’ll run away in panic leaving you very confused and concerned.
-He’ll be having a bit of a crisis once he’s alone. He knows he loves you he’s so certain of it but what if you don’t like him. He usually just kills his problems but he can’t bring himself to kill you if you say no. What should he do? Why does it hurt and it hasn’t even happened? Gods what is this?
-Eventually, he’ll make his way to your home and just stare at the door for a couple minutes before knocking. Kayn looks disheveled and it makes you more concerned then you were already. You quickly bring him inside and asks if he wants tea or something. He’ll say no and fidget oddly. Like he wants to say something.
-You try to calm him a bit by holding his hands and smiling at him. You tell him he can tell you anything. What’s on his mind? He looks at you deeply, seemingly staring into you soul and breathes out the words I love you. Oh. Ooooh. Your face will go red and he’ll get nervous again.
-He’ll want to run, fearing he made a terrible mistake, but would be pleasantly surprised if you returned his affections. He’ll question you if you really do love him. A little kiss to his cheek is all he needs before nearly simultaneously crushing and suffocating you with a hug and kiss. You’ll be seeing stars but it’s so worth it to see him so happy and to get all those other kisses all over your face.
Yasuo
-Sad boi times. He doesn’t believe himself worthy of love. He’s done so much wrong that most people see him as a monster, including himself, but he wants love he wants to feel that warmth of someone being there and sharing that affection. Ugh, it’s time for more Sake.
-Being with you has been some of the best days he’s had in a very long time, he’s even cut down on drinking with you around, so much so he can feel the strings in his chest being pulled closer and closer to you. It dawns on him that he loves you and the guilt and regret sets in hard making seemingly sad all the time around you now.
-You can ask him what’s wrong and he’ll say nothing before going out to get more Sake. It’s so unlike him to be like this with you. Hell head out to the nearest bar and try to numb the pain away the only way he knows how, with alcohol. You don’t deserve to have him around. He’s a monster, a killer that slayed his own brother. You deserve better, so much better.
-He’ll drink till dawn then stumble his way back to your home and pass out face first on the porch. It’s not his most graceful moment. You probably have to drag his butt into the house then get the herbal tea and pain pills ready for the inevitable headache this moron got himself into. He can tell you he can handle his alcohol all he wants he clearly gets hung over.
-When he wakes up the headache comes in as expected and he’s groaning irritably. You shake him to get him to drink the pain pills and some tea to relive his pain. As he does so you can help but notice he’s looking at you oddly. Like there’s longing in his eyes. You ask him what’s wrong and he looks away and says nothing once more. That answer begins to annoy you and you stand in front of him with you arms crossed.
-He looks at you with an eyebrow up. Then the other goes up as you demand to know what’s wrong. Your so tired of him looking sad then drinking till he blacks out. He wasn’t like this when you first met what happened? He’s looking down again with a red dust across his face this time and tells you he fell in love with you but you don’t deserve a monster like him.
-It wounds your soul that he thinks so lowly of himself. He’s so wonderful when he’s not sad. Always kinda witty, funny with the sarcasm and so kind whenever you need help or advice your self. You tell him this then wrap your arms around him and kiss him gently. He returns it fervently then burrows into your shoulder. Your Sad Samurai doesn’t have to be sad anymore.
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@perfect-fourth
Zed remembered the whispers among the Navori brotherhood from nineteen years ago. He had been little more than a boy, barely fifteen years of age, when some fellow disciples had returned to the temple of Thaanjul, wide-eyed, with gaping mouths and gossip to share. “There’s a demon,” one girl had blurted out. “He’s killed four people, but the master won’t let us see.”
Thinking back upon the conversation, Zed was relieved everybody save him and Shen had been spared of the unspeakable horrors that the so-called demon had caused. “The Golden Demon,” the townspeople of Gilur had coined after sixteen hardworking farmers had been left dead, assembled to what could be best described as a pyramid of corpses, each draped meticulously. The entrails were spread in an intricate pattern, leaving little to the imagination. He remembered the screams of an elderly housewife upon discovering her husband’s belt on one of the dismembered corpses – save for his clothing, he had been unidentifiable, as had the rest of them. Zed recalled the silence as one after the other body was lifted from the pile – they had been staked with metal and wooden poles – and the village had scattered around what human was left, praying desperately that it wasn’t a family member. That it was somebody else, but not their relative, friend, daughter, son. After the sixth body Zed had fled the scene, nauseated, his hands clenched to fists, digging his fingernails into his palms until he’d drawn blood.
He had felt similarly helpless back then as he did now, treading up the hill leading to the former Kinkou temple. Although he was heavily armed – not only with the familiar shurikens in each hand, but with various assortments of daggers and spikes – he felt naked heading towards what seemed like a nightmare. As desperately as he hoped Jhin hadn’t spared the main residence of the Shadow Order any attention, it seemed unlikely – after all, the former stagehand would never interrupt his carefully crafted routine or his obsession with the number four. The only logical conclusion – the only one left – was that he had immediately headed towards Thaanjul. The closer Zed drew, the larger the lump in his throat seemed to grow – he tried to swallow it down, but it seemed downright impossible with his dry mouth and sharp inhales that had grown rapid from trying to climb the hill as quickly as he could. At the edge of the clearing the building sat in, he paused momentarily to catch his breath, scanning the area for traces of an unfamiliar presence. He found none outside – no obvious fighting. Nevertheless, he couldn’t shake the eerie feeling – the feeling that something was horribly wrong. It was only split seconds before the realized what – it was quiet. Usually, around this time, the air was filled with shouts, laughter and strained grunts, members of his Order practicing magic in the gardens, some perhaps enjoying a meal outside after cooking together. Now, nobody paced through the tall grass – cautiously, he pushed himself along the backside of the temple, intent on staying unseen, especially from high ground.
Zed elected not to enter through the large opening in front of the building that was framed by two tall pillars, marbled, ivory twining up their length. Instead, he snuck in through a window that was about six feet off the ground – traditionally, neither the Kinkou nor his order had taken a particular liking to glass which resulted in every entrance being open so he wouldn’t have to shatter or make any sound to enter. Zed leapt, grabbing ahold of the cool stone of the windowsill, his shurikens tucked into his belt, pulling himself up with his arms and lifting his legs over the sill quietly. He landed in one of the shared sleeping areas, thudding to the ground as quietly as a cat would have.
The first observation the shadow master made was that the futons hadn’t been made – he would’ve expressed his displeasure otherwise upon discovering the scrambled blankets and pillows, now he ignored the chaos his students had left behind. The room contained four of the mattresses, but of the yánléi nobody was in sight. Zed frowned, pacing across the room and through the curtain that gave them the utmost privacy, entering one of the many long-winded hallways. Even through his mask, here, without the open windows to clear out the waft of smoke, Zed could taste a sickly sweet scent – a floral stench that immediately put him on edge, making him tighten his grip around his handheld weapons of choice. The air seemed heavier than usual, tinted in a violet shade – he removed his headpiece briefly to inhale and pressed it back onto his face. It made him lightheaded and dizzy and Zed staggered against the wall to stay on his feet.
It was already obvious that the Golden Demon had indeed been here – if not from the polluted air that Zed gaged to be some form of gas – then from of the next bedroom. He found one young man slumped over his futon and his stomach twisted as he knelt down, hesitating briefly before he reached for his wrist. He looked dead. What if they all were dead? The thought crossed his mind briefly, but he shoved it aside before it could consume him, turning the yánléi onto his back. His chest rose and fell shallowly and Zed exhaled sharply, relieved he had been spared, but dreading what he was to discover throughout the temple.
He found the first corpse in the hallway between Kayn’s and his own room – a fallen girl, laying on her stomach, a pool of blood oozing from the wound in her head. “Yena,” he said, voice devoid of emotions as he sat, pulling the knife from where it had gotten stuck in the bone of her skull. Zed had seen enough death for a lifetime, yet had always managed to distance himself from the kills on the battlefield, the Noxians slaying countless Ionians. That hadn’t been his fault – this was and his alone. He might have as well struck her down himself, he thought bitterly, swallowing down the strangled sob that threatened to claw its way out of his throat. Instead, he turned her head slightly – the white of the shattered bone, leaking brain matter and coagulated blood made him avert his gaze as he brushed over her eyelids to close them. Zed had only spared her face a brief gaze, but the expression had irreversibly etched itself into his mind – doe eyes, widened surprise. She hadn’t been afraid, she hadn’t had time to be – her life had ended before she had thudded to the ground. Zed blinked, his eyes watering. The desperate hope that it had been but a nightmare had long evaporated into thin air, leaving behind nothing but pure, stomach wrenching, gut-twisting terror. Quietly – still anxious Jhin was in his temple – Zed rose to his feet, pursing his lips, prepared to move on. Throughout the next few rooms, his students were slowly starting to stir, but he bid them to stay quiet. Yena’s corpse had been the sixth which meant that at least two more were left. Zed didn’t doubt Jhin had fulfilled his work.
The second body lay in the joined area used for cooking and conversing. Zed brushed aside the curtain that separated the area from the hallway and immediately realized he had found what he was searching for – the smell wasn’t strong yet, especially beneath his mask, but the pattern of innards and blood splashed across the ground wasn’t to be missed. Initially, Zed thought the pile at the end of the room to be a piece of blood drenched fabric, but as he drew closer, he recognized bones and flesh among the jumbled mess that sat atop a carpet… A rug that hadn’t been there before. Zed flinched, not stepping any closer to the husk of what had once been a yánléi. He couldn’t identify him and he could no longer ignore the overwhelming vertigo that forced him onto his knees in a puddle of blood, head lowered, breaths growing rapid. One word etched itself into his mind, repeating, screaming. ‘Why. Why me? What have I done?’
Zed pressed a gloved hand against his chest that rose and fell too quickly – the additional intake of oxygen was beginning to make him feel lightheaded, panic tightening his throat until he was certain he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t move, much like the corpse – did it even deserve that name – the shreds of flesh that lay on the ground. There was one more – Zed knew there had to be. He felt his knees buckle when he climbed to his feet, steadying and balancing himself with the help of the nearby wall. He had combed through all of the bedrooms, now all that was left was the main hall that lead to the entrance of the temple. Slowly, he crept closer – blinking, trying to shake the past few images. He was surprised at the sight that confronted him – the hall was empty. Nobody. Nothing. A few seconds passed before he heard a shuffle from one corner, from behind one of the supporting pillars – immediately, he reached for a dagger as the figure stepped closer, swaying slightly – the demon was tall and slender, clad in his mask, the shoulder piece and surely armed. Close enough for his shadow step, Zed was able to dash in.
“How dare you! What have you done!” The scream caught in his throat, his voice broke as he tumbled into the man, both of them going to the ground, his blades plunging deeply into the other's heart. Zed yanked out the first shuriken and sliced his throat, feeling the satisfying warm liquid stain his gloves. Again, he stabbed the killer, until he had stopped twitching, until he felt the life had left him. Zed panted, gasped as he removed his own mask and bent over to do the same for Jhin. He tore it off and his mind refused to cooperate with the image. The man was dead, without a doubt – his eyelids had been sewn closed with golden thread, as had his lips, blood staining his face. He lay lifelessly and most importantly – the realization had dawned far earlier, the scream left his lips before Zed could consciously – it was not Jhin.
It was one of his own – one of his own he had brutally and remorselessly murdered, without much of a second thought. Zed scrambled down next to him, his hands already pressed against the wounds on his throat and chest as more and more blood leaked from the poor unsuspecting yánléi. “No… Please, c’mon! Wake up, dammit,” he snapped, voice breaking. He knew it was too late, it was little more than a desperate attempt to soothe his conscience. “Please…”
He was faint. The tears fell without his say, obscuring his vision, turning the world around him into a blurry mess as he let his head drop onto the body’s chest, cowering beside him, clutching him. “Please. I didn’t… Mean to,” he whispered.
#tw: gore#tw: panic attacks#tw jhin don't read this if you don't want graphic description of gore#mmH YES this took me so long but here is zorture#zhangst#he is.. not doing well
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Time was overall subjective when this far out beyond the Edgeworlds. It was hard to keep track of birthdays, and holiday events however being in the Empire, he had a sense for such things as they worked to help pinpoint memories, and schedules. So when the infamous day of Valentines had come around - Sona would find a box on the bed in the hotel room. Plain. Unassuming. Sat atop it would be a note which upon being unfolded would offer a map and instructions.
Follow the map through the tunnels by 23:45.
Do not open the box until you reach the specified location.
Use the light on top of the box to illuminate the tunnels.
You will find something identifiable once you reach the designated spot.
The lights within the cavern city dimmed to entice the bio luminescent rock ceiling high above. Torchlight took up the streets in a warm glow giving the atmosphere a welcoming, and peaceful vibe. The tunnels too were lit, but only a short ways into the maze. She would have to follow the map to the letter if she had any hope of locating the designated destination.
It would take… a little time. A little effort. Starlight shimmers across the rockface made it seem like she were wandering the galactic plain. A landscape threatening to consume her imagination with its warm twinkles, and dense atmosphere. Even the low laying mists looked like they were kissed with the colors of a nebula, swirling effortlessly with the sway of her steps and motion of her body.
It was upon arrival that the woman would find the identifiable marker. A lantern hung low from an iron arm curved up and over a small mountain of sand and rocks. Stones made stairs spiraling up to its crest to reveal a basket concealed under a small hand towel and two pillows stacked atop a folded blanket under the faint glow of quiet firelight contained within its glass prison.
Another note would be hung from a thin string dangling from the base of the lantern.
Blow out the candlelight, and open the box.
Should she do so, she would find that the cave was not as dark as it originally seemed as moonlight immediately consumed its reaches from an opening high above. Higher than even the storms that raged across the surface of the planet. The light was strange but not for the moon itself, but the source; the neutron start that blazed so strangely not terribly far off. It’s bluish hue thrown off the snowcaps of the moon to radiate gently down into the depths of this place. It was stunning. But more than that – When she would open the box, a single flower would rest inside. It stirred as it felt the rays with reactive pollen creeping from within the flower like tiny fireflies reaching out to the sky. Harmless, and beautiful. As the flower turned to bask in the moonlight, wide, vibrant petals would spread one at a time until fully blossomed. It was alive. Responsive even to the direction the lights would come from always seeking to embrace the rays as if it were the greatest gift that could be given to it.
Behind her Kayn stood with his hands rested to his back. His eyes keen and observant, making a point to not give his position away. To linger at the edges of her vision to drink in her response, and the unfurling of the moon flower.
It would be a few minutes giving her the ability to bask in the moment before he would make himself known, speaking plainly as he watched the tiny pollen fragments drift higher and higher forever seeking the rays of the moon.
“This moon flower is not named only for its reaction to lunar light, but because the pods actually thrive in space making homes on the surface of moons, or near to them. Tide locked are among their favorites, and tend to prosper because there is no waning of light, nor necessity to relocate.”
His steps were calm, and calculated, taking his time to join her, “Consider this a gift. A show of appreciation for your efforts despite–” Kayn waves his hand absently, “–our disagreements.” More like his disapproval of some things, but he surely wasn’t going to get into it.
If she were to pull the towel off the basket, she would find a simple, but well loved meal common among the people of her home world. He doesn’t comment. He simply tends to the blanket, unfolding it and plopping the pillows down so the pair had a place to sit.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was late, and by the time Sona found the letter left behind by the Ordinal, Sona had already removed her binding for the day. She hoped he’d understand when she showed up to the location in her normal attire. In truth, she hadn’t any issues traversing the city nor the tunnels--aside from the abyss of twilight which nearly caused her to trip twice. But at least she made it safely within the hollowed out network of corridors. Part of her wondered what he had in store for her this time. Kayn was full of mysteries and his displays were nothing short of grandiose. Always one for the flair, that one. There could be all manner of things he could be plotting for her but...
Whatever she had been thinking--this wasn’t it.
Seated upon the blanket and pillows, Sona finds herself in the moonlit cavern, the flower in the box beside her and the basket on Kayn’s side. The meal before her is not only nostalgic, but coincidentally a favorite of hers; Gyūdon--fresh rice with thinly sliced beef and fragrant slivered onions, cooked with dashi, soy, and mirin. There were even mushrooms and a bit of ginger as well. What’s more, it had a dollop of what looked to be shichimi, a type of ground chili pepper that Galrin was known for. It really was a shock to see a staple from home, to the point that she didn’t wish to disturb the bowl--instead she wanted to admire it for a bit longer, as if it were a piece of art not meant for consumption. Yet, the Ordinal’s pointed glare was all the silent urging she needed to grasp her chopsticks and dig in.
“I must have lost track of time. Certain holidays are universal, even where I’m from. This must mean we’re nearing the fire festival back at home.” Sona reflects aloud, her smile warm and bright. With a warm meal before her so reminiscent of home, she continues to eat and drown in the memories, allowing her senses to be taken over by the comforting sweetness of days past. “You’re full of surprises, Shieda. I gratefully accept this incredible gesture...heh, I don’t even know how you managed all this on Shedola. It’s nothing short of talented.” And she means it. Sona never seeks to fluff up anyone’s ego with hot air, least of all Kayn--he doesn’t need it. However, she’s able to recognize ingenuity, prowess, and ability when she sees it. “It does mean a lot...I-”
“-I don’t...have much to give to you in turn though.” Sona goes quiet for a moment, knowing that Kayn would dismiss such musings. Still, she couldn’t. If she had realized the date, she’d have prepared him baked goods--those were always a perfect gift around this time of year and she knew he enjoyed her food enough. Not that she had ample opportunity to do so, even if she had known of the holiday fast approaching. It gnawed on her mind that she hadn’t anything substantial to give such as a materialistic gift nor succulent--but a thought occurs to Sona as she finishes her bowl; a gift of a different kind that wouldn’t require much from her, but it would still be something which might interest the man so eager to learn.
“Shieda,” Sona calls out his name while standing up. “I know you’re an educated man, but perhaps you didn’t know-” Sona would glance over her shoulder towards the man, a faint smile on her lips. As she does, she steps forward, a hand upon her bosom to calm her racing heart. It’s such a simple thing that she’s about to do, and yet she can’t calm down. She can never shake the nerves, even in the privacy of this cavern. When was the last time she had done this?
“-the Order is quite an old organization and has been around for countless generations. While we have evolved with the times, there once was a time where we memorized oral histories and events. Nothing was ever written, only spoken. It made every individual in the group precious and important, as each carried with them part of the galaxy’s stories and traditions.” Sona smiles a bit brighter, hoping the flash of teeth would help calm her nerves. “The original Templars were nomadic, held no material possessions, and often communed with Ora--though most of their tales have faded into antiquity due to the nature of their paperless ideals. Only folklore and unverified recordings of events exist, knowledge still passed on from the founders of the past to the youth of today. Even if it bears no particular importance on the events of today, it is part of our values to learn of our forebears.”
“What’s more-” Sona takes a deep breath. “-is that their voices live on through arcane scripture, written in a dead language that only High Templars are permitted to learn.” Sona turns, now facing the twinkling expanse of the cavern. With the milky moonlight pouring fourth from the opening in the ceiling, it nearly looks as though a halo of snow forms across her crown, an almost ethereal sight.
“Being who I am--what I am--I learned the archaic dialect and their ancient hymns.” And with a final breath to rid herself of what anxiety remained, Sona would part her lips--and she would sing. Music was her life, the small bit of self-expression and freedom afforded to her in life. It was an intimate experience, sharing her song to Kayn in that moment, using the language scarcely known in the entire universe.
“Kuwata tsunowo vralai
Tsuriji pufuralekai
Kwondzuvai undovartsu wronduwail
Tjortetei jeki liago
Jiunmata ivelischpfuli
Neftyoma sorepiyamei
Schijiyako alefni fatalliliya
Nic'hpisfa unhoreselye
Otrajain aforeje kurasolda
Towari hatasei mic'hatasei tsufrallai
Otrajain aforeje kurasolda
Towari hatasei mic'hatasei tsufrallai ilja
Ullilya kojijichatjukaijai-wa nyame fretsumekri fretsumekri linganmai
Ulreri manja huteharraku-mu harirch lahadachfei lahadachfei shindulhwo“
It wasn’t a magnificent performance filled with pyrotechnics and an orchestral swell. She’s certain he’s heard far better among the Empire concert halls and various parades his home boasts. Even so, there is something so pure and sincere in her voice, in the way the acoustics of the cavern exemplify the purity to her singing. She had been so nervous to share her melody and part of her heritage to him, but now that her singing has ceased and she has a moment to breathe, she realizes that Kayn is not the type of man to scorn her for what makes her unique. Even as an Ordinal, he would not mock that which she offers him in kind. It’s not the exact gift she had in mind to give him, though she hopes the new insight on her people--and the performance itself--is still enjoyable for him...even without her beloved instrument.
And in the end, she was able to bear more of herself to him--something that is perhaps the most priceless thing of all.
#tw long post#long post#epoch tale || Odyssey au#in harmony || ic#the lady performs || my art#MAN I LOVE THIS#I love drawing in response to certain stuff#and this was#so fun for me#Sona super nervous like#'this man is afraid of my smooches and I got nothing on me'#'what do I give him?'#K N O W L E D G E#and in fairness it's a rather unique experience#given its a dead language#even out in the vastness of a cavern#she had to do SOMETHING in return#cue her vibrating nervously because#hnnnngh she hasn't sang the language in front of others really#let alone she rarely sings in front of others too#probs once or twice with the Morning Star#but otherwise nada#<3#submission
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Corrupted - TMA x Malevolent WIP
That moment when you realize there is a romance brewing here that you Do Not Know What The Hell To Do With
(this is what I get for being self-indulgent)
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The book, Tim.
“Right. Looking.”
Don’t look too much at Dagon .
“I’m not, I’m not. Don’t suppose there’s a vanish dead god spell.”
Silence.
Hastur feels like he’s… thinking something. Debating it.
Tim can’t guess what. He toes things over, drags things aside. “I can’t find your book.”
Fuck, Hastur whispers. He took it.
“Okay. What would that do?”
It means when you die, I go to him. I built a return spell into it to ensure my soul would never be lost - never go to the Dark World.
Hastur is terrified.
“Hey,” says Tim. “I’m not dead yet, yeah?”
Hastur is… shaking.
It’s weird, now that Tim acknowledges he really can feel what Hastur is doing in there. “What’s he going to do to you, anyway?”
Hurt me.
“So how do I prevent that?”
And Hastur loses it. What the fuck is wrong with you? What? If I could take your body right now, I would! We are not on the same side! I know you’re not stupid! What is the matter with you?
“You done?” says Tim.
Hastur sputters.
“Look,” says Tim, low. “Maybe he was right. I’m infected, you’re evil, whatever. Doesn’t change our situation, does it? I don’t want to die. You don’t want to die. He left us alive, for whatever stupid reason, and that means we have a chance.”
We don’t have a chance! You don’t know what you’re dealing with!
“Maybe that’s good, since all knowing’s done is made you roll right over.”
And Hastur growls.
That is… really not a human sound, and Tim has no idea how Hastur is making it, and if Tim hadn’t met Kayne less than twenty minutes ago, it would be the scariest thing he’d ever heard.
But he had, so now it wasn’t. “Right, circling back: you done?”
Stop that!
“No. Your book’s gone. I’ve got some magic. Okay. Those are two things we know. What’s next?”
There’s nothing to be done! Hastur pants. Nothing.
“What’d he mean about gods getting eaten?”
It’s what the Fears have done in this timeline. The Entities.
“They ate the gods?”
All of them. Gone.
“Except… for you.” The enormity of that is definitely going to take a while to sink in.
Yes.
“And now they know you’re here.”
Silence.
“How… what did he mean that I’m marked? Infected?”
A long, slow sigh. I’m sorry that happened. It’s not what I would have chosen for you.
Once again, Cthulhu’s favor. A merciful destruction. Hard to say if it’s good. “Okay. But what does it mean?”
It means you’re going to be consumed by rage. It means the time will come when you’ll try to burn the world, burn anything you love, burn anything anyone loves. It means you will end in rage and ash and blissful destruction.
Tim feels pale. “How do I stop it?”
You don’t. You’re marked.
“Well, I don’t… I don’t accept that.”
That growl again, though softer. Tim. I already doubt your personal choices when it comes to lovers. Do not make me doubt your basic common sense.
Tim rolls his eyes. “Really? You’re two thousand years old, and you’re a fucking prude?”
No, that’s not - no. And I’m far older than that.
“Right. Sure. Well, then you should get this: if I accept what you’re saying, then I won’t try. Why the fuck would I? But I don’t accept it, and I think maybe there’s some kind of chance and you just haven’t found it because you weren’t looking for one, then maybe there’s hope. Let’s start with this fucking thing. Dagon . Whatever. We need to do something about it.”
Hastur scoffs. We do not.
“We do. I don’t want some poor bloke going crazy seeing it when I’m the one who brought it here.”
You… aren’t. You opened the book, but you were not in your right mind.
“Sure, but I still did it. Is there a remove dead god spell?”
Hastur pauses. Maybe… we can try something. But it’s dangerous, Tim. I don’t plan to go to Kayne so soon.
“Let me try. Maybe it’ll work.”
Tim. I appreciate your hope. I do. But it’s pointless.
“Then it does no harm for me to try, does it? If it’s all doom and gloom anyway, at least let me go out trying.”
Hastur sighs. You… are so damn young.
“I’m not that young. I’m thirty in June.”
Hastur is amused. Thirty whole years, huh?
“Yep! I can buy beer, and everything. Come on, Hastur. Let’s try.”
You trust me enough to do a conjuring? This won’t just be saying words. This requires true power. I could be trying to take your body again.
“You could. But if you are, well… guess I won’t know, will I? I’ll be out of it, and you’ll still be heading to Kayne, but alone - nobody on your side, which right now, I am. Seems like it’d be a stupid thing to do, and you’re not really stupid.”
Not really, you say.
“Yeah. So goes my observation.”
All twenty-nine mighty years of it. The warmth is coming through, the same fondness as before, when Hastur, as John, assured him the end wouldn’t hurt.
Well, it’s better than nothing. “Yep. So - what do I do?”
You’re a fool, Hastur says, but instructs him.
The rope is destroyed, but fortunately, they don’t need it.
Tim moves garbage, tracks down enough of the cleat hooks to mark cardinal points around the enormous corpse.
Tim does his best to scratch symbols into the dirt between the cleat hooks - simple enough, but he doubts they’re accurate.
They don’t need to be. This is about intent and general direction.
Hopefully, that’s not wrong.
In the end, it takes Tim half an hour to set up what Hastur says is a Minor Working.
Are you ready?
“Sure. Why not? What do I say?”
No words for this one. I will… push some of my power through you. It won’t feel good - I am not human, and my power can be antithetical to you.
Tim swallows. “Just go for it. I can handle pain.”
As you wish.
And then Tim is burning.
His blood is on fire, and he tries not to make a sound because he already pretended it would be fine.
But he’s not.
It’s too much.
Tim screams.
Something… flashes.
And he discovers he’s flat on his back without any memory of falling over, and one of his eyes doesn't work anymore.
Did he blow it out?
Well, this is interesting, says Hastur, and that’s how Tim knows what happened.
“Oh, good, you can see, too?” he says, and he sounds like a thousand year old goose.
Sit up for me. Hastur sounds so much happier. So much.
“Sure.” Tim does, panting.
The body of Dagon is gone.
“We did it!” says Tim.
Yes, we did it, Hastur purrs. So - the rope exploding was not a fluke. Tim… well, well, well. It turns out you are, indeed, very magical.
“Really?”
Really. I would steal this body in a heartbeat, if I could.
“Then you’d be alone,” Tim points out.
It might not matter with power like this. You don’t understand.
“So explain it.” Tim staggers to his feet, thinks better of it, and sits back down. “Wow. Uh. Dizzy.”
Of course you’re dizzy. You just opened a portal to another world, levitated a creature weighing tonnes through it, and closed the portal again. You’ve done a Minor Working.
“Go figure. Thought ‘minor’ meant… you know, small.”
Well. Compared to a Great Working, certainly. Good gods, Hastur is purry. Mister Smooth is back in the building, everyone. Well done, Tim.
“Thanks.” Tim feels like he’s gone too long without eating. “We safe to go now? Nothing left that can hurt anyone?”
Ichor - but the rain should wash it away.
“Then let’s get the fuck out of here.”
You don’t seem too upset about losing sight in your right eye.
“Honestly? It’s a relief. Don’t think I could do half the directing you did. This way, you can actually be useful.”
Hastur scoffs.
“So. We go?”
We go.
Tim does.
#malevolent#tma#tma fic#malevolent fic#fic in progress#snippet#tim stoker#kiy malevolent#wip#amwriting
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Zed x Vastayan Reader Scenario & Headcanons
Anonymous asked: hello! if possible, can i ask about Zed and a curious hare vastayan reader who keeps getting closer to the Shadow Order? like theyre dissatisfied with how others claim to protect their homeland from those that wish it harm, and became drawn to his idea of actively fighting to defend Ionia by all means necessary, even if it meant possibly having to go against those they called family
[Sure! I tried my best to capture their interesting dynamic, so this post ended up being a lot longer than I thought, lol. I hope you don’t mind!
Note: To give you a better idea of the timeline, this is meant to take place after the war, but before the events of Kayn's story.]
How you met:
There he was, just as the rumors described: a merciless man with a faint, yet formidable presence--like night given form. The person with the power to change your life forever...was currently sitting alone on the cold temple floor. And he didn’t seem pleased.
"Nakuri. What is the meaning of this? You know better than to interrupt my private meditation."
"My sincerest apologies, Master Zed," said the muscular acolyte, bowing his head. Then he shoved you, your body lurching forward at the harsh, sudden impact.
You felt your jaw clench.
“Watch it,” you hissed at him, flattening your long, fluffy ears. Ugh, the nerve of that guy!
Nakuri scoffed before quickly turning back to his master, who was losing his patience. "Found this little cotton-tail snooping around while I was out on my evening patrol. They practically demanded a meeting with you, though I can’t seem to figure out why."
“I have no time for such trivial matters,” Zed muttered. “Leave. Both of you. Now.”
Nakuri nodded and made for the exit. But you? You had other ideas.
“Wait!” you cried. “Please, hear me out just this once, and I swear I'll never bother you again!”
The ninja paused, scanning your face for a moment. He'd planned to dismiss you without a second thought, but your fiery gaze caught his eye.
“...Alright. Speak, then."
Well, here goes nothing. "I want to join the Order of Shadows," you firmly declared.
"Is that so," Zed snorted. "You think we let just anyone in?"
"No," you answered, shaking your head. "Of course not. But I'm willing to do anything it takes to get stronger, and you're the only one I can count on."
Zed mulled it over. "You couldn't get your tribesmen to train you? Vastaya are fierce."
"We were fierce. My people see no reason to fight anymore. Now, their claws have gone dull. Recent times have made them grow soft and complacent--embracing empty promises of harmony and balance while ignoring the scars of our past. But I’m not like them. I will never forget what the Noxians did to our home.”
“We drove those tyrants out, but their black-hearted, silver-haired bastard of a general lives. He's still plotting for sure, and as far as I'm concerned, all this 'peace' is just the calm before the storm. I want to make sure that I’m ready for whatever comes next--no matter the cost."
The masked man was silent. Maybe he was deep in thought. Maybe he wanted you dead.
It was kind of hard to tell, but you hoped for the best and continued.
"If there's one thing I've learned, it's that Ionia needs leaders who aren't afraid to stand up and fight. We can rebuild our villages, re-plant our crops--but we'll never be able to replace the precious lives of our loved ones. I know I can help you--"
"I’ve heard quite enough,” replied Zed, slowly rising to his feet. He gestured towards the temple door, barely even sparing you a glance.
No. This couldn’t be happening.
“Go and find Nakuri. He’ll show you around. Your time in the Order starts now.”
General headcanons:
At first, the other acolytes detested you, shunned you. To them, your vastayan blood implied that you couldn’t be trusted--that you’d eventually turn traitor. Rumors of your expected betrayal ran rampant, and you had a bad feeling that Nakuri was laughing from the shadows.
You tried to ignore their insidious whispers in favor of honing your skills. The wooden training dummies grew battered and nicked from your unrelenting slashes and strikes.
Even though you didn’t have Nakuri’s strength, or Kayn’s impressive mastery of weapons, you were still able to make a name for yourself with your unparalleled scouting and tracking. Your sense of smell and hearing were much sharper than a human’s, and your instincts were much better, too. Once Zed caught on to your natural talents, he publicly praised you for a mission well done, and the rumors were silenced for good.
One night, you found yourself unable to sleep, and decided to wander around the temple to get some fresh air. When you got to the courtyard, you ran into a strange, handsome man with bags under his eyes. Your jaw dropped. His snow-white hair shone in the moonlight as he stopped to raise a single, dark brow.
You were sure that you’d never seen this man in your life--and yet, something about him seemed oddly familiar. But despite your best efforts, you just couldn’t put your finger on it. Sighing, you cursed yourself, lamenting your ability to forget such a beautiful face.
Finally, the man spoke. “...What is it?” he asked in Zed’s voice. Your weak heart skipped a beat.
Your accidental encounters with Zed grew more frequent as days, weeks, and months passed you by. In fact, there were times when he chuckled and joked about you “showing up late to the party.” You knew it was foolish, or maybe even arrogant, but you were starting to suspect that he actually liked being around you.
As the two of you grew closer, Zed eventually admitted the cause of his perpetual insomnia. He was plagued by awful nightmares of Jhin, the Golden Demon, whose gruesome acts of carnage were enough to eat away at one’s mind for the rest of their life. You couldn’t even begin to imagine the horrors he’d seen. All you could do was place a gentle hand on the man’s shoulder. He didn’t move away.
#league of legends#league of legends headcanons#headcanons#league of legends imagines#imagines#scenarios#zed#lol zed#zed x reader#vastayan reader#champion x reader#reader insert#sfw#imaginesofruneterra
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What If This Storm Ends?
Asher Devereux made his way downstairs to the library and adjoined combat room. His brows were furrowed, and he was armed with a wooden tray that had sushi, prepared potstickers and buns resting upon it. Two sets of chopsticks resided, one on each side of the tray. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs upon seeing Layla, freezing as he examined her. Every muscle in his body was tense for a moment, but it was just that; a moment. When it passed, he continued on and made his way over towards the fire she had situated herself in front of. "Hey," he murmured quietly, smiling down to her before he extended the tray down in offering. "Food?"
Layla Locklear looked up, jerking her head to the side at the sound of Asher's voice. Her eyes were wide, staring into the fire, that is until they turned on him. She bit her lip and forced a smile. "Hey." She said, moving her hands to rest in her lap, one clutching the other.
He resisted the impulse to frown, instead, he maintained a soft smile for the woman. "I made your favorite... As best as I could, anyway." He settled himself down on the floor beside her, placing the wooden tray of food in front of them. "I'm not well practiced in the culinary arts of Doma... But I hope I did alright." He looked back towards Layla and shifted his gaze down towards her hands, inhaling deeply before he sighed. "Are you feeling better?"
Layla turned her head, shaking it side to side lightly. "No." She said, eyes turning from him, from the fire, down to her hands. Her fingers twisted and twirled over one and other. Nervous? Uncomfortable? She didn't say. "You don't have to sit with me." She finally said, allowing that long pregnant pause between them to finally subside. It was then, though, that her eyes moved to the food. "I feel like I haven't eaten in weeks." Had she?
Asher gave a slow nod and turned his gaze to settle upon the fire. Each individual lick of flame was observed as he considered his next words. Eventually, he sighed, nodded his head, and cleared his throat. "I know." He looked back towards Layla, peering at her from the corner of his eyes, glimmering with painful uncertainty. He reached out for her, curling his gloved fingers over the top of her stacked hands. "I made a lot..." he offered, his smile growing somewhat, even genuinely. It was the truth, the tray was covered in different assortments of sushi from the hostelry that they had enjoyed in Kugane... Or, well, Asher's imitation of them. Buns resided on each corner, and several plates of potstickers were present between them all. There was a lot there... He'd truly gone above and beyond in food preparation. But it was always easier to cook than think. "I hope you won't mind sharing some of it with me?"
Layla jerked her hand back quickly. Too quickly. At first, she had not noticed he was gloved, but it didn't matter. She didn't trust him, or herself, for that matter. It was a familiar feeling, not trusting herself, and she was caught off guard by not only the feeling but that she didn't really know why. She shoved her hands into the long robe she wore, pulling a pair of thick, black gloves free. Each hand was slipped into the gloves and then placed into her lap again. "I know I make you uncomfortable." She finally said, whispering the words. It was then that her eyes finally settled on the tray of sushi and other items. She. Was. Starving. So, so starving.
Asher froze for a moment as Layla jerked her hands away beneath the cover of her robe. He furrowed his brows and gently pursed his lips, worry overtaking him for a moment. "You don't make me uncomfortable," he murmured, pulling his hand back to his knee and settling his gaze upon the tray of abundantly full Doman cuisine. "I... Make me uncomfortable around you." He wrinkled his nose at the explanation and shook his head. "I don't trust myself." Those last words came out as a low whisper, hardly uttered. Just loud enough for her to hear. He paused again, letting only the crackling of the fire remain between the two of them before he plucked up a set of chopsticks. He extended them out to her and lofted a brow. "Food?"
Layla furrowed her brow, chewing on the inside of her cheek. She lifted a hand, taking the chopsticks. She moved them, clutching them in a closed fist, back into her lap. "What does that even mean?" She asked, shaking her head as she looked over at him again. "You pulled away from me cause I was drai--" Her head shook from side to side again, fingers wrapping hard around the chopsticks she still held, nearly breaking them.
Asher bit his lip gently and canted his head to the side as Layla posed her question. It was a good question. One that he wasn't sure he really had the answer to. "Bad dreams," he tried to explain feebly, plucking up the other set of chopsticks. He couldn't bring himself to pick at the food he'd prepared, not yet... Not after Layla had finished speaking. "I would let you drain me," he said, almost emotionlessly as he shrugged. "I don't want to be without you, not in this life... Not in the next." He sighed and finally plucked up a single piece of raw tuna draped across a slab of rice. "When you stumbled... You surprised me. It was a lot at first, but I would put up with it, even though I know you don't or wouldn't want me to."
Layla Locklear almost didn't let him finish. She was up, on her knees, and turning to face him faster than she should have been. It was almost inhuman. The moment she was up on her knees, staring him down with intense blue eyes, she pushed him. Not just a normal push, but a hard, heavy-handed shove. "Are you a fucking idiot?" She asked him, eyes lit with a bluish flame. It lasted only a moment though, and before he would even have time to react to the shove, she was slumped back down beside him as she had been before.
Asher lurched to the side with Layla's heavy-handed shove. It was hard, it wasn't what he'd come to expect from her usual playful self, but it still wasn't quite enough to knock him off balance. Not truly. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Probably," he murmured and recentered himself. His piece of sushi had escaped his chopsticks during the shove, and it fell just off to the side of the tray on the ground, pieces of rice broken off to surround the tuna. Luckily there was a lot already. "You're not diminished in my eyes, Layla... I'm just happy that you're back." He plucked up the spilled sushi and rice with a gloved hand, tossing it forward into the fire. Nobody wanted to eat that now. "I was afraid for you."
Layla picked up the chopsticks she had dropped in the process of moving to shove him. The wider top of one was broke, bent, and splintered. They were still useable, that was all that mattered. For a long time she sat there beside him, simply processing all of the things he had to say. Each word. All of their meanings. "You are an idiot." She said, finally, just before dipping her set of chopsticks down to pluck up one of the smaller roll pieces. She didn't even care which one. She knew his cooking was A+. "Asher," she continued after swallowing down the raw fish and rice. "What happened?"
Asher glanced down to the chopsticks she rebrandished, examining them as she began to pluck up some pieces of sushi. "After Booshie's gauntlet of fights we had to return to your Father's... We had moved residences temporarily to help distance you from the person that was stalking you." He cleared his throat and prepared to continue, but inevitably furrowed his brows and reached out with an upturned palm for her chopsticks, his other hand extending his own out to her. She might've pushed him, incurred that damage upon her own utensils, but he wasn't about to let her sit there and eat with them. "You were getting ready for bed when you disappeared, none of the Guards knew where you had gone or seen anyone... That's when we discovered that the thing that was interested in you was a Mindflayer." Even as he continued to explain, he was gazing at her expectantly.
Layla Locklear jerked, once, at the exact moment he mentioned the Mindflayer. It was almost as if her body responded it to, the familiar name, but her mind was still lost to why. For now. She took his offered chopsticks, smiling up at him weakly. "Why are you like this?" She asked him, already reaching down for the second segment of a roll. "Everything in my head is just..." She paused again, popping the bite into her mouth and remaining silent while she chewed. "It's just a fucking mess." She finally finished, eyes on him again. "And, it was so strange earlier today, when I woke up. I was so hot. But the room wasn't hot... and I... I could feel you. And Eme. And Kayne. I knew you were there. But, not because I heard you, or saw you..." She stopped once more, swallowing back a lump that had formed in the back of her throat. "I could taste your aether. It was so raw. And I just..." She paused, again, looking down at the sticks in her hand.
Asher snorted quietly and retrieved her own chopsticks, fiddling with them in his hand to get a proper grip with them. She was definitely more practiced with them than he was, but he'd make due. "You were..." he trailed off, searching for the words as he retrieved a bite for himself and silently chewed. Once he'd swallowed it down he shook his head. "You weren't entirely yourself, I don't think... You were manic, aware of certain things at some points, and slipping at others." He shook his head and looked back towards her, offering a smile. "Are you feeling that right now?" He examined her from head to toe as he posed that question, inevitably settling his gaze upon her own. He remembered how those green eyes had turned a fiery blue. It was hard not to imagine them doing so again already... But that was something he felt he'd keep to himself for now.
Layla just looked at him and nodded. There was sadness in her eyes, pure, unadulterated sadness that he had likely never seen there before. Real emotions. Raw. Hard. "Very, very much." She said quietly. "And I don't know how to make it stop."
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