#riversrunred

[askdragonbladetalon]

[Man, that comic is so inspiring, I want to write a "Five Times Talon Bit His Lip (and one time Vlad bit it for him)" fic based off the panel where Talon is lip-biting. In the car so can't write anything for at least an hour though. But I can plot!]

[askdragonbladetalon]

For riversrunred,  based off this awesome post of theirs and especially the image above.

Not all families are happy and not all children are innocent. TW: fantasies of gore, blood, implied animal abuse, death.

“Smile, son,” his father says between gritted teeth but Vladimir does not smile. He is marble, a perfectly sculptured doll that the servants dressed with care. He has a cravat like his fathers and a vest like his mother’s dress. He is the product of their loins, the proof of their love. He is going to kill his father, going to tighten that cravat until his father chokes, until his eyes bulge out and his dry tongue protrudes, until he soils himself like Vladimir’s heard people do when they’re hanged like the heir to their House and they are so proud of him.

“Smile, daring.” His mother’s hand rests on his chest, spider-leg fingers curving so her sharp nails dig into his chest. Even through three layers of cloth, he can feel her scarlet nails pressing into his flesh. She tells him often that he has her whole heart, that he is her good boy who will kill her, who will take her heart, who will dig it out of her chest and carve it out of those breasts that everyone stares at, even those old disgusting Generals who are trying to curry the favor of their family and she loves him.

They bracket him on both sides and push him to the front like a sacrifice, like a shield. He will take the first burst of light. He will be the focus of the photo, the trophy that they share. Such a handsome boy, the servants say, and nobody dares to mention his temper, how knives keep disappearing off his morning breakfast tray, how his kitten disappeared from his bedroom and was never found, how he demands to be taken to every Fleshing, how clever he is too.

His thin lip stay in a straight line but the corners jerk sharply up as he kills his parents, leaves nothing behind but the smears of blood on the wall, photographs himself in that one glorious moment of freedom where he is alive and alight with the hunger for more the camera clicks.

“Wonderful,” the photographer says because he is paid to flatter and he will earn nothing if he tells them the photos of the unsmiling boy will look better.

[askdragonbladetalon]

[closed RP] Excuse YOU

Talon heaved himself over the wall, dropping lightly to his feet, then ran to the window of the kitchen. The bars over it prevented him from climbing in but it gave him a good foothold to start climbing up the wall of the mansion. He wedged grey crampions into the mortar between the stones, using them to help take his weight as he scaled the vertical expanse until at last he dropped onto the balcony.  The glass doors of the balcony were locked but not bolted. A few minutes work with the thin lockpicks he kept hidden in his hair had the tumblrs falling and just a little oil onto the hinges made the doors swing open soundlessly. He slipped into the room, emerging from the fall of the white curtains with a knife at the ready and then froze. The bed was empty of his intended target. Instead, the man was pinned against the wall by no visible force and standing a few meters away from him was a very familiar silhouette. The high, terrifying spike of the collar, the dangling blades from the sleeves, the dangerous claws - all of it was familiar enough to make Talon’s stomach turn over itself, churning uneasily.   Vladimir. ...Except this as a different Vladimir. The hair was different and so was the stance. Body language was as unique as accents and this wasn’t the Vladimir who had drugged him. That knowledge made Talon start moving again, annoyance replacing anxiety. “That’s my kill!” Talon said, stepping out of stealth as he did so. If Vladimir was killing a noble, the Noxian High Council must have sent him here - or Vladimir had been personally offended by the man. It didn’t matter what his reason was. Talon was going to be paid a tidy sum if the man died and he would not get that money if his target died to hemomancy instead.  “Back the fuck off now.”