横柄

will you prove worthy? {probably not.} independent shieda kayn.

[leaguetextthings]

Nice Hands

Zed: You have nice hands Kayn

Kayn: Uh thanks?

Zed: I bet they’d look better wrapped around my-

Shen: WRAPPED AROUND THE BIBLE! PRAISE THE LORD! AMEN!

[prisoneroftuula]

Since the little punk is coming, what are Jhin's thoughts on Kayn?

//// he’d be hella excited to show his artworks to the boy too.

shoutout for @masked-outlaw for their earlier tweet which gave the idea for this comic :^)

[arrogantsuggestion]

Lions do not concern themselves with the opinions of sheep.

[light-binding]

continued from here / @ouhei

Lux does turn back then, pale hair peaking out from her thick cloak. She almost laughs because what does this boy know about her commander, but she does not; she was trained better than that. She smiles a practiced smile, slim and sharp, and takes his measure in the sweep of an eye.

He holds his weapon - a scythe, really? - carelessly, arrogantly, over his shoulder. Except there’s a hint of darkness in the aura around him. It’s hard to see in the night, but the scythe is no ordinary weapon, of this Lux is sure. Part of her thinks she’d best take him out now, but another part thinks that she has to pass by this regiment of the Noxian army unnoticed, and if he is going to slaughter them anyways…

Well, dead people can’t really notice spies slipping through their borders anyways.

“ My commanders have no interest in heads. ” At least, not decapitated ones anyways. “ This battle is all yours. I have no interest in it, only in the city that lies beyond. ”

[ouhei-blog1]

Rhaast will clamor for him to take the city, too. (They are unsuspecting, they are unprepared, they are weak. What are you waiting for?

Give in. I will be your new master.)

“What of the city?” Kayn asks instead, approaching her with wide, confident steps. He does not fear magic, no matter its proximity or potency; he has claimed mastery over every weapon of war, and boasts a control over the shadows that will soon rival (overcome, eclipse, exceed) Zed’s. 

One little girl will never pose him any threat.

“Tell me. Is it in search of intelligence, or...” His grin shifts subtly into a smirk, as if the possibility that strikes him next is as amusing as it is unfortunate. “...have you decided to betray your kin? A poor choice, if so.”

Rhaast speaks, then. His voice does not cut through the air between them, but it rumbles deep beneath their skin, slips through the hollows of their bones.

“Find an answer in blood.”

[jiminfilter]

Pvris - No Mercy

[twinbit-blog]

@ouhei​ forced me to write a starter

Shyvana was three leagues out from the temporary military camp they’d set up when it hit her. The sickly-sweet smell of blood filled her nose so overwhelming that it stirs not hunger, but revulsion. It was not a scent in the breeze, it was an overpowering ocean, as if someone has slaughtered an entire herd of sheep in one spot.

She surged forward. There was no need to even follow the smell. There was no need to think - it was everything she could do to hold onto her human form, to run forward on two legs and not fly through the sky. The half-dragon passed through the trees and across the fields with an inhuman speed. When she arrived at the clearing, she found a sea of Noxian corpses and one boy standing in the middle.

Fire surged through her blood, coalesced in her hands, in her throat. When she spoke, sparks flew from her mouth.

“ Speak! Who are you and what are you doing! ”

[ouhei-blog1]

They turn to her in sync, and Kayn — he grins, mistaking her anger to be one for slaughtered comrades. 

“You should have run the other way when you heard their screams,” he says, leveling her with a cocky grin and a spin of his scythe. “But this is the Noxian way, is it not? Strength above all. No retreat.”

He commands the shadows, and they bend easily to his will to propel him closer. Rhaast’s eye gleams ever-bright as he swings the scythe back, hears the thrum of heartbeat-blood-fight-slaughter-kill, and strikes.

“No mercy!”

[twinbit-blog]

ON WINGS OF FURY   ✧   like or reblog if you’d interact with an independent & selective, probably canon-divergent, shyvana from league of legends. follow-backs come from @light-binding. looking for fellow demacian blogs & people to beat up for her princeling.

[ouhei-blog1]

the-economics-of-death:

He had been watching the stranger for a while now, cloaked in the shadows where he felt most at home. Silent. Observant. Readying himself to launch out and finally cut down the man. As exhilarating as it was to watch the man fight the soldiers, and as exciting it was to feel the fire in his veins, he had a job to do.

“Then find me, sir,” he said with an amused smile, his grip on his blades tightening as he imagined it now in his head - stabbing the man through the heart as he searched for him, hidden in a vantage point overhead.

Adrenaline made his heart sing.

Find him? As if Kayn ever had to look. 

The shadows surge around him, and he bends them to his will. It is in the way that Zed had taught him, the way that he had mastered, and it guides him all too easily to the heartbeat that thrums — faster, faster now, but with the same rhythm and weight that has become all too familiar. 

(Seek, fight, kill, dominate — they hide in the shadows, but the shadows are his.)

So Kayn surges high, higher, until his feet find purchase on the cliff’s edge. Noxian, clearly, and is it not their own beloved creed to show no mercy?

“Next!” Rhaast cries, and Kayn grins as he swings his scythe.

“Found you.”

[light-binding]

continued from here / @ouhei

Lux feels the shadows move around her and it is not the first time. This deep in Noxian territory, she almost, reflexively, thinks Talon, but no. She is not foolish enough to let Talon find her, not on a mission, and-

-and Talon never felt half so hungry, half so bloodthirsty. Talon knew how to hide his bloodlust, how to melt into shadows, how to cease to exist as anything but a blade. This person is less than Talon, and anything less than Talon, Lux could handle. She stopped and almost smiled.

She does not turn. She stares straight ahead and does not waver. Her cloak falls around her softly, barely kissing the dirt below. There is a dagger in her boot, a flashbang in her belt, magic in her veins.

“ If you know that I am a Demacian, why stop me? ”

She did not move to face the speaker, did not move to defend herself, did not move to attack. Lux stood very still, and very, very sure of herself.

[ouhei-blog1]

“Because these are my sheep to slaughter,” Kayn declares, scythe held almost carelessly against his shoulder. (But Rhaast is not a toy, and his grip is sure. The darkin’s eye focuses in one Lux, and even without a body and a mouth with which to speak, his words settle deep in the little spaces between their bones.)

“So do what must be done.”

Start with her. Neither she nor her people have done him any wrong, but she does not belong here, and she will not take this away from him. 

(She is lucky, then, that he does not kill at Rhaast’s bidding.)

He spins his scythe, and eyes her again. (Slim. A mage. Magic is in the way the world curves around her without touching her, the way she treads through the darkness with a certain audacity.)

“Patience,” he says, directed at Rhaast even as his gaze never quite leaves the way she is, the way she exists. “Return to your commanders, girl. If they’re lucky, maybe they can come by later and pick up a head to take back to your home as a souvenir. I’ll make sure to leave a few behind.”

[ouhei-blog1]

Caprizant: of the pulse, uneven or irregular // @the-economics-of-death

It’s what piques his interest, when the last man falls. There is silence, and silence never speaks for emptiness, but more than that: steadiness. No stuttered breath, no staccato heartbeat, no panicked flux and jerk of shadow. 

Instead: peace.

Instead: silence.

He can feel Rhaast’s grin, the pleasure of a hunt yet to begin, and for once finds that it aligns very closely to his own.

(But what weapon does not eventually come to take on its master’s shape, its master’s will?)

“Come out, Noxian,” he tempts, when he rips Rhaast from the bloodied corpse of a failed-and-forgotten soldier. “The shadows cannot hide you from me. I control them.”

[gool-sauce]

Zed dead, baby.

[ouhei-blog1]

Igniparous: bringing forth fire // @bulletbred

Her laughter cuts through the fire, the upturned earth, the pitiful screams of men suffocated by shadow and heat. She is slender, and she is wild, and she is uncontrolled in all this chaos, a place she might call home.

(Rhaast smells-tastes-hears death and he burns, passion and bloodlust and obsession-goal-purpose. Kayn tightens his hold on the weapon, but he fights, and he calls for bloodshed and more.

His voice echoes. She will surely have heard.)

“A woman of taste!” he laughs, revitalized, energized, a fury among demons.

(But she is not. The whole battlefield reeks of gunpowder, of smoke. She is chaos’ daughter, the heart of all the flames.)

“A woman who stands in my way. You! What is your name?”

[ouhei-blog1]

sparsile: of a star, not included in any constellation // @light-binding​

She shines and she is not where she should be.

(She walks and the world seems to gravitate to her in all sorts of weird ways. She is light and stardust and the hope that dances just beyond tranquility, the image of sanctuary in violent times. 

But she does not belong here.)

Rhaast gleams. She slows her step. Kayn considers, for a heartbeat and a breath, and makes his choice.

“Any further, and you’ll lose more than your footing." And he will not feel guilty about taking her life, bright as she is, displaced as she is. In an hour's time, the fields will run red with the blood of Noxians and their sympathizers, and they will know. They will learn.

(And for eternity, they will remember.)

"Demacian, aren't you? Turn. This will be my slaughter."

[ouhei-blog1]

scaevity: unluckiness. // @silence-thenpain

Some would say that it is an honor, to be imitated — but they are the fools who have always done the imitating, never great enough to warrant a copycat of their own. (They are the ones who follow and bow their heads low. He has never been one of them, nor will he ever be.)

There is blood and carnage all around, but Rhaast is uncharacteristically quiet. Kayn does not call out to him; he will answer his own questions. So he walks, and he looks not so much at what mess was left behind, but instead for the perpetrator. Everything is gruesome and impressive, a message meant to terrify; it is how he would do things, but — different. (Cleaner, he doesn’t want to say, even if it’s true. Power carved into every bloody wound.)

“Show yourself,” he demands, when the shadows shift and turn. The perpetrator is here, and Kayn will not waste his time with guessing games and subtlety. Rhaast’s eye flickers, too — and finally, he laughs.

“Oh,” he says, his voice tipped with the darkest amusement it’s ever been, “How unfortunate, Kayn.”

And for the first time since their meeting, Kayn’s mouth draws into a thin, tight line — and he agrees. Unfortunate, indeed; the imposter is a frighteningly accurate image of him, but he is... different. Unfettered. (It will not matter in the end, but.)

But. He had told his brothers in the Order, just before departing: I will bring this imposter’s head.

Unlucky.

For this man, that is.

“Haven’t you heard? Imitation speaks more for a lack of creativity than it does of admiration.”

[cluelesscutiefly]

Raleigh's "Lost Words" Drabble Prompts~

Send me a Word and Character/Pairing and I’ll Write a Drabble for it~

(Basically what happens on a very boring day when you own an Unabridged Dictionary

Amandation: act of sending away or dismissing

Amarulence: bitterness; spite

Amorevolous: affectionate; loving

Antipelargy: reciprocal or mutual kindness

Apanthropinization: withdrawal from human concerns or the human world

Assectation: act of following after something else

Bajulate: to bear a heavy burden

Bonifate: lucky; fortunate

Brabeum: reward or prize

Brochity: projecting or crooked quality of teeth

Cacozealous: imitating badly

Caprizant: of the pulse, uneven or irregular

Celeberrimous: very or most highly celebrated

Circumbilivagination going around in a circular motion; circumambulation

Commendaces: funeral orations; prayers for the dead

Cosmogyral: whirling round the universe

Crocitation: croaking; cawing

Deartuate: to dismember

Decutient: shaking down; beating down

Diffibulate: to unbutton; to unbuckle

Ecstasiate: to go into an ecstasy; to cause to become ecstatic

Embaphium: small vessel for measuring or serving medicine

Essomenic: showing things as they will be in the future

Fabrefaction: act of fashioning or making a work of art

Fallaciloquence: deceitful speech

Famelicose: often or very hungry

Fumificate: to make or cause smoke or incense

Gelicide: a frost

Gleimous: slimy

Gnathonize: to flatter

Graviloquence: grave speech

Halatinous: saline; salty

Hypenemious: full of wind

Igniparous: bringing forth fire

Impigrity: quickness; speed

Ingordigious: greedy; avaricious

Irredivivous: unable to be revived

Kalotypography: beautiful printing

Keleusmatically: imperatively; in an imperative mood

Kexy: dry, brittle, withered

Latibule: hiding place

Lubency: willingness; pleasure

Lugent: weeping; mourning

Magastromancy: magical astrology

Mancation: maiming; mutilation

Mariturient: eager to marry

Misqueme: to displease; to offend

Morsicant:producing the sensation of repeated biting or pricking

Murklins: in the dark

Nequient: not being able

Nerterology: learning relating to the dead or the underworld

Obrumpent: breaking; bursting

Occaecation: the act of blinding

Ossifragant: bone-breaking

Pamphagous: eating everything; all-consuming

Patration: perfection or completion of something

Perantique: very antique or ancient

Phoenigm: reddening of the skin

Pication: application of warm pitch to the skin as medical treatment

Quadrimular: lasting for four years

Quaeritate: to question; to inquire

Redamancy: act of loving in return

Rimestock: old almanac with runic writings

Roomthily: spatially; with respect to space

Scaevity: unluckiness

Scathefire: great destructive fire; conflagration

Senticous: prickly; thorny

Somandric: pertaining to the human body

Sparsile: of a star, not included in any constellation

Summotion: removal

Temerate: to break a bond or promise

Tenellous: somewhat tender

Teterrimous: most foul

Thysiastery: sacrificial altar

Traboccant: superabundant; excessive

Tremefy: to cause to tremble

Vacivity: emptiness

Vanmost: in the front; foremost

Venalitious: of the sale of humans as slaves

Veteratorian: crafty; subtle

Visotactile: involving both touch and vision

Vultuous: having a sad or solemn countenance

Welmish: of a pale or sickly colour

May or may not end up adding more words later.  Have fun with these~

[spinyoctopus]

Here you go some angsty Zed/Rhaast PvP comic. That Rhaast quote is killing me, so I had to draw it.

[ouhei-blog1]

争い // ii. 

(and is this not it? these are the same footsteps that had once followed behind them; these are the same war drums that had commanded them forward. they are coming, faster, faster, and rhaast — he says, so this is how it ends for you.)

but this is not it. this is never it.

kayn wakes when the world still slumbers, and rhaast’s eye gleams brighter than the sky. when he reaches for his weapon — his, always, even after noxus drowns in the blood of her children — the surge of raw violence is a reassuring feeling. it is anger, and it is bloodlust; it is the call for slaughter, and kayn will direct it wherever he pleases.

(beyond whomever zed names, wherever zed points: the horizon. his goals. the places he will take this order, the limits he will break — he will be the shadows’ new master, and zed will finally see. he will be proud.)

“your... ‘plans’ again,” rhaast muses. (nightmares, is what he will always mean — but they will always just be words. he will always cut when kayn swings him; he will always kill when kayn yearns.) “awake with impatience, i presume.”

“i know patience,” kayn snaps. it’s too early. “and they’ll witness it soon enough. i’ll write their rebirth in blood and shadow.” 

rhaast’s chuckle reverberates in untouchable ways, echoing between his bones, thrumming beneath his heartbeat. (he will always think that it means this: i own you, so of course you are there.

but to rhaast, always: this is only the beginning; let me show you.)

“now you’re starting to sound fun.”