#ask-fiora-laurent

[rwac96]

Type: Ask

AU: Crossing AU: Crossover Fusion AU

Fandom: RWBY x League of Legends

Summary: How did Fiora Laurent first meeting with Team JNPR gone?

Something like this...

"ENGARDE!!" Fiora Laurent shouts, her blade clashing against Milo, her jade eyes glaring into Pyrrha Nikos' emerald ones. "Is this your best, Nikos?"

"ADMIRAL ACKBAR!!" Nora Valkyrie screamed, holding her hammer as she charged towards the swordswoman.

"That's not our war cry!" Jaune Arc shouts, brandishing Croea Mors as he charges alongside his teammate.

"Too late," Lie Ren shouts, joining his teammates in the charge against the seasoned swordmaster.

Fiora scoffs as she pushes Pyrrha back, meeting the clashes of Team JNPR's other weapons; first Jaune's, then Ren's, and lastly, Nora's. "Hmph, novices! The lot of you!"

[greatnessordeath]

Fiora x reader

wordcount 1.4k, hurt/comfort, genderneutral reader, inspired by an artwork of my dearest friend see here Every one of your steps echoed loudly in the corridor with pat pat pat noises that made you think of a waddling duck family. Hesitantly you walk toward a heavy wooden door with a pretty worn out handle. It’s dull since you’re in the oldest part of the castle and many hands grabbed it during the past decades. The interior here is by far anything but fancy, but it paled in comparison to the opulent decadence of the main palace. However, you liked it this far with the past written all over the well trodden marble steps, curving slightly under your feet or the few spiderwebs decorating the corners of outdated royal red curtains. Yet another evidence that the cleaning squad couldn't keep up with the countless floor-to-ceiling windows adorning this wing of the old building. Now, the setting sun poured orange gold over the white marble and the flickering shadows of a nearby tree danced across the wall while the air smelled like summer.

Hands buried deep in your pockets, you fidget with the small piece of paper that brought you here. It just reads five words, hastily scribbled: ‘meet me in the studio. -F’ As you finally open the heavy oak door, it creaks familiar as you carefully push it open to not cause too much noise. You hurry inside just as the note demands you to and find yourself surrounded by canvas stands, wet brushes, paper, ink and countless other art supplies. The smell of fresh paint and graphite made you feel at home instantly.

“Fiora? … Are you here?” you ask softly into the spacious room and look around. “Hello?” In the blink of an eye, a blurred figure emerges from behind the curtains.

“Oh My God! There you are!” She throws herself into your arms without a warning.

“Whoa, what happened? Are you okay?” you ask suspiciously and return the hug a little more reserved. If anyone saw you hugging the daughter of Sebastien Laurent you might be in serious trouble. “No! No, I’m seriously not okay. I think I might die.” Your stomach drops immediately. You know her and you also know her tendency to exaggerate things, but an uneasy feeling crept up your throat nonetheless. It caused you to grab her shoulders a bit harder than necessary, forcing her to look into your eyes. “What is it? You can tell me anything!” She bit her lip and averted her gaze, redness flushing her cheeks. “I think it’s best when I show you.” Your brows knot sceptically, but you let go of her. “Do you remember what I told you about us having huge trouble finding enough recruits for the army?” You nodded quickly. It was like two weeks ago? She came to you during your lunch break and spilled the tea. It hasn’t been long since House Laurent had fallen from favor, with Fiora’s father ruining their reputation. What she did was controversial to say the least, but apart from killing her own father for his own good, it was a huge weight she had to carry. The tables turned and many good people left without a word. It was also evident in the declining numbers of new recruits. Things changed. The people averted their gaze, scrunched up their noses and turned to other families in regards to their military education. “The First Commander talked me into agreeing into a campaign. He argued that I was our best embodiment, since the people either loved or hated what I did. There’s no in between and we should use it to attract whoever's left.” “So far, that sounds pretty reasonable to me,” you shrugged, still clueless. “Yes, but I didn’t know he wanted to plaster the whole city with THESE!” She stepped aside and revealed a large canvas behind her. You blink multiple times, taking in the information, eyes flickering from the painting to Fiora and back. It showed Fiora in shiny golden armor, looking far in the distance, one hand shadowing her eyes from the sun. The big letters above her read “We scout ahead”. At the bottom were more information and a call to join the Demacian Corps. When you remained silent, she sighed deeply. “What is it?” you asked calmly, watching her face keenly.

“I…. I just hate it,” Fiora admitted, “I don’t understand how people look at it and not get sick? Tell me I don’t look like a fucking idiot!” She mimics the gesture from the portrait with ironic enthusiasm, before her expression gets sour again. “I should’ve never agreed to that. I mean… what even is this pose and the weird perspective and the huge shoulder armor?! I look like a busty version of Garen, please kill me!” You try to suppress a grin, but the way her lip shakes makes your heart heavy with concern. “Be honest, I know it’s bad. But what do you think?” she asks more reasonably, arms hugged around herself as if she shivered. “I don’t know. I think you actually look good.” A quick punch with her fist hurts your shoulder and her whole face scrunches in disbelief. “Shut up! I told you to be honest!” You shrug indifferently, “but I mean it.”

When she lunges her fist again, you hold up your hand to catch it midair. Her watery eyes bore into yours, furious but questioning.

“Fiora, come on. Are you serious?” You needed a moment to wrap your head around it, but you guess she really needed to hear it. Unlucky that it was you of all people who needed to tell her. “Fine. You are gorgeous, okay? Your eyes are the most beautiful shade of blue, your smile shines brighter than the morning sun and your body is in fantastic shape. You’ve proven more than once that you owe a mind as sharp as your blade. Also, I think the armor, it just screams authority. Sure it's gold-gold, but we're in Demacia and subtlety was never our thing, so why not do it properly?” The hand you weren’t aware you were still holding slips through your fingers and her expression softens a bit, as she stares at the painting, visibly thinking. After a moment of silence, you catch her gaze. The setting sun kissed her ocean blue eyes into a turquoise shade and it made your knees weak.  Her voice cut through the calm as a mere whisper “You think I’m gorgeous?” “I do.” You step a bit closer so you can put a hand on her back to softly pat her. “They will come, because of you and what you did. I'm sure.” You try to sound convincing without your voice breaking, but you’re not sure how she will take it. A part of you expects to get hit once more. But she doesn’t. “Thank you, it’s really sweet of you,” she gives you a halfhearted smile, but her dimples drop very fast. “But there’s more to it.” Hesitantly, she runs her fingers through her hair and sits down on the next best stool. It’s weird seeing her on a simple wooden stool. But it’s also exemplary for her, you think to yourself. She never made a fuss about ancestry or etiquette. “It’s just… I hear them talk behind my back. All the time. The court ladies, the soldiers, the nobles… they call me heartless and arrogant or that I just need the right man to teach me manners.“ She sighs and fidgets with her hands in her lap. “You know… most of the time I don’t care. I know it's hard for them to adjust and accept the changes. But I saw this and it dawned on me.“ Her voice grew thinner and she averted her gaze from the painting as if she couldn’t bear to watch herself any longer. “As long as I’m of use for the greater good they tolerate me, because I can help them get what they want. But anything apart from that?” You can see how the corner of her eyes fill with tears “I’m afraid they’ll respect neither me nor my decisions for who I am.” “They will,” you answer instantly. She shyly looks up to you, chewing her lip. “They will?” You squat down to be eye level with her. “Yes. Maybe not today and maybe not till the end of summer, but the day will come. And you know why?” She shakes her head slowly, a single tear running down her cheek. “Because you’re not giving up so easily.” Slowly and carefully you wipe away the salty drop before it reaches her jawline. Her skin feels hot under your palm and she watches you through her lashes with doe eyes. Another wave of sympathy washes over you, pinches at your heart and makes speaking the next words much harder. 

“You are the Grand Duelist. You are Fiora Laurent, the proud leader of the finest bladecraft within the kingdom. You deserve respect and loyalty and empathy.” “Thank you,” she breathes and pulls you into a tight hug. 

This time you delightly return it regardless of who might see you, because it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that you two were holding each other, feeling the prickling warmth of mutual affection.

You breathe in the light floral scent of her hair and just hold her, whispering “As long as we’re together, I promise we’ll find a way.”

♡

[expirator]

14, 17, 20

17. How long have you been RPing?

Since 2016! My Irelia blog was my first muse and I’m happy that I still have her.

20. Do have any OCs you play, or want to play?

I have a couple of DnD OCs that are absolute joys to develop, but I haven’t quite struck down their personalities yet. Making an OC, additionally, is a lot of work, so I would just prefer to stick to canon characters for tumblr.

14 answered here!

[runeterrankhaleesi]

Hola 😁 may I have sfw & nsfw hc for Viego with a swordstress who is afraid to falling in love? I'm so glad to have discovered this wonderful blog #$&$&$&#&#@@

[A/N: Aw, how sweet of you, darling, to compliment me. Thank you. I endulged in joy when writing this particular ask. To help you understand the story a little bit more, in here Viego is a king and is still human. You are the Fiora Laurent of the kingdom. In here, Isolde does not exist, instead you are Isolde. To understand more, read his lore. I kept this vague as possible so things would be left to your imaginations. Thank you for requesting darling, you are welcome to ask again.]

SFW and NSFW Headcanons of Human Viego with a swordstress

SFW:

You are a talented swordstress, the best of the best in the country of Camavor.

Not only that, you were also a beautiful woman to the point where countless men had fallen on their knees and asked for your hand in marriage.

You had rejected every single one of them. Finding it disguting that they were only after your youthful beauty.

One day, you had come across a poster promoting about an international competition; a duel to find who was truly a master of the art of sword fighting. It was just your luck that it was being held in the country.

You had entered the tournament. Going through numerous eliminations and passing all of it left you as a finalist.

On the day of the competition, you were representing your home country and you had received a letter from the King himself, wishing you luck.

And after the first match did you turn around and saw the King as one of the spectators, sitting on a large chair directly facing the ring below, where you stood.

You drank all of his features one by one; his shoulder-length auburn hair, perfectly pairing those vibrant green eyes of his. You found yourself staring, longer than you should.

Snapping out of your trance, you quickly bowed as a sign of respect and a silent note that you were moving on to the next round.

As the the tournament dragged on, you found yourself thinking about him, more than you should.

When all ended and you had won, the King had met you personally and well, like all other men whom had met you before, he was entranced by your beauty.

Feeling that he might step into bounderies, he complimented you and congratulated you for winning the competition.

The days that followed were you being followed by the King, and not wanting to be disrespectful had let him. Only after you had enough did you finally confront him about it.

"I wanted to know you better, outside of your dueling. If you will allow me to court you." He had simply told you

"With all do respect, Your Highness, I must refuse." ,was your answer

"Why?" He had ask

"Countless men had asked for my hand and I had refused them. I have no interest in men who are only after my beauty."

"Dear, I am different from them." He took a step closer to you, "Truth, I am enchanted by your beauty since the first time we ever met, yet, when you stared at me from the ring below, strings pulled at my heart and I could not ignore it." He paused, taking a deep breath "Could you give this a chance?" He asked

"Your Highness, I'm afraid not. I fear to fall in love with someone after the bad history of men I dated. I realized that if they were after my beauty then they would throw me away as if I was a piece of trash once I grew old."

He took your hand in his and kneeled "Then I promise, if you'll allow me to court you, I shall prove that I am different from them. I will not throw you away, even if your hair turns grey."

True, you wanted to love somebody and be loved by somebody, but in your case, it was all too difficult. Now, here you are with the King begging for your permission to date you.

"I'll try, Your Highness." You meekly spoke.

Days after that, his courting had make you finally say yes to a relationship with him.

It was a bed of roses.

NSFW:

You seldom being involved with someone, had never done it before.

Viego assures you that he'll take care of you and you trusted him.

Maids prepped you, bathing in you lavender scented waters and clothed you in a emerald green robe made of the finest silk.

Your first time with him was a pleasurable experience.

Viego always made sure you were comfortable.

He handled you as if were something made of glass, fragile and delicate.

Deft fingers traced over your pampered body while his lips sucked the skin of your neck.

He took his time with you-to let you savour the moment.

When Viego had entered you, you had let out a hushed cry of pain, and he whispered sweet things into your ear, kissing your neck up and down to ease your pain.

When you were finished, Viego fetched a warm towel to clean you while he asked if you were okay.

After assuring him you were fine, he covered you with the robe once more, snuggling with you to sleep.

✨~Requests are open!~✨

[jsyndra]

"Syndra. l think your name is different. What is your last name?" Fiora asked.

Brow raised curiously at the foreign voice, Syndra turned her attention to the Demacian. "I do not have one." Syndra answered, eying the other for a brief moment. "And you must be Fiora Laurent, yes? Your name is quite different, as well."

[sanguiresse-a]

"who would you say is the best swordsman of these lands, milord?" the reasoning behind such question is easy to imagine: zelgius yearns for a good challenge, one that only a proper rival could offer. the prospect of the unknown aspects of bladework around these lands also fascinates him. "i want a challenge."

     “That would be Fiora Laurent, of House Laurent.”

     The answer comes naturally and without much thought; Vladimir does not even look up from his reading, nor does he lose his place in the dense lines of 2nd century AN philosophy. The bladework of the Laurent family is envied all over Valoran— even in Noxus (though certainly not by Vladimir himself; he isn’t impressed by steel and hasn’t been for quite some time). 

     “From what I hear,” Vladimir continues, “she too searches for a worthy opponent... though I’m afraid she’s surrounded by Demacian walls, and they do not take too kindly to people like you and I.” 

     His eyes— lacking their lively red glow and seeming dark, studious— peer over the pages. Zelgius has requested very little during his time in Noxus. It surprised Vladimir at first. All who come to Count Savatier want to leave with a little something of his: knowledge, power, riches. But Zelgius has not wanted much, even if Vladimir has offered— and so this single request, this single inquiry, piques at Vladimir’s interest.

     He finds he is not surprised. If Vladimir knows anything, it is the thirst for blood. If he knows anything, it is the hunger for a heart-pumping battle. He shifts, closing his book as to offer Zelgius his full attention, straightening his posture to that of formality. 

     “However, as far as I know, Lady Laurent is more versed in noble dueling. The kind to please a court, rather than turn the tides of war,” Vladimir says. “Have you been to Ionia? Oh, they like their swords there. You can’t go a mile without meeting the most skilled warrior in all the land. And I imagine they’d let you in with open arms. Perhaps not me, though.” And Vladimir chuckles, making a dismissive gesture with his clawed hand.

     “Should you want passage to Ionia, I can make the arrangements. You only need to ask.” 

[fxlgurkinesis]

closed starter // @duelingfutures

the house of the laurent family was different to the house of crownguard, that was for sure as lux stepped around the hallway. they were both rather large and both could objectively be called beautiful - but the feeling was different. this place felt, hollow, empty even with the housemaids she’d spotted walking around, in between rooms, from time to time. she knew there were people around, and yet, it felt almost hauntingly empty. still, the architecture was enough to have lux feeling curious, but she held that back for the most part, not wanting to appear to be rude. especially since she was staying here temporarily. 

as of right now, she was wandering around, but with a purpose more than simply to look around. she wanted to find fiora, thank her for her generosity, even if her family had likely already extended thanks. in the process, she must have really looked like she was lost or something, as one of the maids had asked if she needed any help. upon their first time conversing, lux had found it a little surprising that the maids were a lot easier to approach than the head of the house herself (and she was a little thankful for that), however, maybe that was more a hint that fiora wasn’t as tough and intimidating as she appeared.

with their assistance she was pointed in the right direction and, soon enough, she was knocking softly on what she assumed was fiora’s room, or at least, where she was currently. “ hello ? i apologise if i’m a bother but i wanted to talk to you for a moment, if that’s okay..”

[on-cerulean-wings]

@duelingfutures sent:

[Guard] - Be protective of them or in their defense. 

Quinn watched as a thin blade was about to clash into her shoulder. She knew her fair-share of melee combat, but she was far more skilled at range. Now she found herself here, about to be struck when a similarly thin blade was thrust out from the side, catching it. The ranger followed the intervening weapon up to its wielder, blinking at the noble.

“I guess I lost, huh?” Quinn asked, slowly getting up. She had came to the Laurent grounds after an offer to train her skill with swordsmanship. She tried to play it off cool but was honestly a little embarrassed as noted by the small pink blush on her cheek. “Thanks, Fiora.”

[duelfenced]

As far as relationships go-between Fiora && her mother, it is definitely a tale to tell && to see.

From Fiora’s youngest years, Fiora’s mother has noticed her different behavior, instead of dolls, Fiora had swords, instead of cute dresses, she had... practice with swords. She never brought it to anyone’s attention, simply stating to herself she will surely grow out of it. But all of this doubt && what could be classified as denial comes from a place of good, not bad.

Fiora’s mother always wished for a daughter, and to get one ( && only one for that matter ) made Fiora almost a favorite instantly in her eyes. But for an only daughter to be so... un-traditional && tradition-defying frightened her mother, as truly, from her core, she doesn’t wish anything bad to happen to her.

Her mother being fragile hearted, took a deep sadness when she found out that Fiora’s denial of Demacian norms && traditions got them in trouble && was even more saddened to see her husband, a man who both her && Fiora loved more than anything else, was now the reason they were going to be exiled. Fiora’s mother was afraid, horrified at what’s to come. 

It certainly was a surprise to find out Fiora was going to redeem the family’s honor, however, by what method made Fiora’s mother even more horrified. She was well aware that if Fiora did not exit that hall victorious, she would lose some of the most important people in her life, her only daughter && her beloved husband.

It was a sad sight to witness the love of your life fall to your own daughter, yet it only reassured her more ( in a positive way ) that her daughter, Fiora Laurent, was not a normal Demacian girl. She was someone special, different, someone strong-minded && smart who knew how to survive in the cruel world they lived in. This is why her mother had no problems with seeing her daughter take control of the house, even if it was, once again, un-traditional.

Many people ask Fiora’s mother what she truly thinks of Fiora, && every time, people receive the same answer:

She couldn’t be more proud of her.

[la-formidxble]

@purge-with-silver aimé pour un démarreur

"Qui est-ce?" Fiora said as she approached Shauna Vayne. It had been years since she had seen Shauna. After her parents her died and Fiora had taken over House Laurent, she hadn't been able to see her for a long time. Though the two were never close, they had been in similar positions in their life; both were girls in Demacia's elite families who seemed to be overshadowed by things much greater around them.

"Shauna, it has been far too long since I have seen you. How have you been, what have you been doing?" She asked. Immediately, Fiora noticed the darker clothing, contrasting her white and gold outfit she normally wore out in public. "Did you join the military?"

[ao3feed-piltovers-finest]

Speak now or forever hold your peace

by Tomas_456

Caitlyn dobouted herself one too many times about asking vi for a date and now she is about to marry another woman, filled with pain she now sits on the first row daydreaming about what could have been had she not been a spinless coward and asked Vi for a date, but she is forced back to reality as she hears the headpriest say the words "speak now or forever hold your peace"

Words: 407, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F

Characters: Vi (League of Legends), Caitlyn (League of Legends), Fiora Laurent

Relationships: Fiora Laurent/Vi, Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)

Additional Tags: Regret, Weddings, i looked at an fanart and now i need to get this out of my system, Speak Now Or Forever Hold Your Peace, will caitlyn grow a spine?, Find Out Next Time on Dragon Ball Z

from AO3 works tagged 'Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)'

[dealerthespade-blog]

What are Dealer's opinions on the various regions of Runeterra? Are there any in particular he likes or dislikes? Does he 'meddle' in any current or past affairs?

Drabble Requests|| Accepting

Demacia: Dealer shrugged his shoulders in a gesture of colossal lack of enthusiasm. "Not exactly my favorite place to visit given that I'm a being of unmistakably magical origin, but there's a certain charm to a few of the people there." A state bathed in conflict as much as their rival Noxus that hasn't devolved into infighting and political cannibalism. There's a tenacity there that he can't help but like, especially in young Miss Crownguard and Fiora Laurent. People like Garen, Jarvan, Xin, and Quinn would likely find they start at odds with him given their positions in state or on the matter of magic, but with time the interaction could grow into something much more friendly after Dealer's more fatherly side makes itself known. All of them have something they hold in high regard, and like a proud parent he would likely guide them along toward as much success and happiness as they were willing to work for. Most interesting to consider are Vayne and Lucian, with obvious stress from Dealer's demonic nature. Whether or not they accept him as a benevolent force would result in some very different threads for each iteration of the muses.

Noxus: "Jericho and his batch of revolutionaries are certainly an exciting bunch." Noxus is likely his favorite region of Runeterra. The people are strong and fierce, and that ferocity often pours over into passion. For others, for battle, for glory, or blood, each of the important denizens pour everything of themselves into a cause and Dealer eats it up by the shovelful. Naturally Swain and LeBlanc, being tied to immortal and powerful entities, are points of particular interest for him, but the Blood Brothers and the DuCouteau family let him look into the dynamics of bonding in Noxian culture so they're all likely to be visited.

Piltover: "The City of Progress. So long as you speak the right language and with the right accent." Science takes issue with Dealer on a fundamental level, and it pleases him to no end to bend the rules in front of those who swear by it. Jayce, Ezreal, and Caitlyn would all be strained in just being around him, but not in a way that was necessarily negative. He's just a huge fly in the face of what they consider absolute truth, and what's worse is he's seemingly making more and more sense with prolonged exposure. One thing is absolutely sure, however, and that's the fact that he's a huge fan of the one girl wrecking crew. Vi is head and body kinds of strong, with an ironclad will and the confidence to get shit done with them. She may not know it, but God is already very much in her corner.

Zaun: "A damn shame, really. But, as always, the chaos stirred up the stagnant mess to bring a few gems into the light." Without a shadow of a doubt favored over Piltover. He doesn't have to concern himself with environmental hazards or the dangerous people, so he's free to peruse the unique strands of fate that have interlaced themselves with the fallen city. It's something of a callback to his original home and how so many cultures and walks of life pooled together out of necessity. It's like making art from poverty to him, and Zaun is full of such masterpieces who were polished and cut on the sharp rocks of tragedy. People who decided they wouldn't break, but instead be strong. When Dealer walks the streets of Zaun it is in a wake of clean air, and he always has food and drink for the thirsty and starving.

Bilgewater: "Ah, the wind, the sea, and the giant fucking sea monsters!" He's making a very emphatic ok hand gesture and clicking hit tongue about the monsters. Goddammit Dealer. Another region where people do what they do and tell people who try to stop them to fuck off. Or kill them, and sometimes it's harder to tell if the latter is more likely in Bilgewater or Noxus. The people here are rough, there are bars and ships everywhere, and blood is as common a smell as gunpowder. 9/10 his second favorite region.

Shadow Isles: "I bet people thought this would be my favorite region, but it's so far down on the list." It's true, I know, this probably surprises a few people, but it's true. Not for the reason most people would guess, bit it is one place he's least likely to go for no reason. The denizens of the Isles can feel what Dealer is thanks to being closer to what he is. With the mortal plane no longer dampening their experience, they can catch a glimpse of his true form on occasion. This is usually enough to decide if they'll stay or avoid him eternally.

Shurima: "It's a shame what happened to the Ascended, the Void is something beyond most comprehension." Ah yes, the guardians of the sands from the H.P. Lovecraft spilling into the world. There's little of interest for him here aside from the remaining Ascended and the Darkin. Personal preference draws him much more to the Darkin, but Azir and Nasus stand out as exceptions given the weight they've collectively shouldered. This is also an area where he feels relatively safe in taking on his demonic form.

Bandle: "The Yordles are my friends, and I won't see any harm come to them." Bandle is much like the Glade from his own home world, so he heavily associates them with magic and the fae. Lulu, of course, is his favorite and the sorceress could likely ask anything of him without worry of reprimand. But as a whole, he has a strong sense of paternal protectiveness over them. It is inadvisable to attack any Yordle in his presence.

Freljord: I'd quote him here too, but you can just play Immigrant Song since that's what he's wailing. This region really tickles his fancy for political intrigue and war tactics. For him it's like popping into an episode of Game of Thrones, but all of it is iced over. He's not with one side or the other and he's just as likely to mingle with soldiers as demigods, and here everyone seems to be fighting everyone. What's not to love for a chaotic God like himself?

Ionia: "Ah, the land there weeps the essence. I wonder if they ever think about where it all really comes from." Drumroll please, 8/10 third favorite region. His wife is a dragon and a samurai, so Ionia was his original top spot to visit up until their distaste for demons and his visits to Noxus changed his mind. Still, just about anyone could walk up to Dealer and engage in friendly conversation in Ionia. It placates him on a deep level and brings out his most peaceful side. This is mostly because he can feed on the magical essence and that keeps the edge of hunger off.

Targon: "Oh the Star Guardians. But these guys are the real Star Guardians." The Guardians of the Super Galaxy are low on Dealer's list of people. They've participated in some particularly heinous acts of divinity, and that's a big fuck up in Big D's eyes. Imprisoning a majestic space dragon, turning in on themselves, weaponizing a proud people, subsequently eradicating said proud people after their expectations weren't met. It would be a sad day for Targon should any of them challenge his temper.

Now, down here I'll handle the second part of this ask related to meddling. Dealer is specifically exiting the time-space Runeterra occupies retroactively. He literally leaves through the whole he made to come in by every coordinate imagineable to seal it off on his way out. This removes his influence entirely, as he was never truly there. When he is gone, no one remembers he was ever there and those memories resurface instantly once he reoccupies the area. So, to answer your question...

Yes, yes he does lots of meddling

[preprietres-a-blog]

sᴀʙᴇʀ, ᴀᴍᴍᴅᴀʀ & ᴍᴀʀǫ. fiora is the 3rd eldest child / the 2nd youngest of the four. the children of fontaine and kamiile laurent in order are : saber, ammdar, fiora & marq, w/ the former - most being the eldest. saber is a hardworking man, w/ well versed in the art of fencing ━ he is a part of the royal guards. he had always worked side - by - side w/ his father, being groomed to be the heir of the house laurent. he was v. keen on learning the ways of things, wanting to engage in responsibilities that would come along w/ his position. he was, initially, to be the head of the household instead of fiora. his relationship w/ her from the v. childhood was of a friendly rivalry that strayed into the wrong direction. both of the kids were competitive, fiora being the child prodigy and him being the most hardworking of all. the two would often fight, making petty bets, out of which fiora lost a lot. the elder was sharper, smarter, more curious than the younger siblings. the fact that fiora robbed him of his right, deeply hurt him. this was something that he did not deem acceptable ; attempting to bring her own sister down. ammdar is the most mysterious out of the siblings. he is the lone one out of the 3 brothers who supports fiora in whatever she does. the man is a natural charmer, quite manipulative with his words, but he is deeply cares for his sister. one rarely sees him out of his calm disposition. they also, rarely see him engaging in fencing or practicing. no one really knows how well he fights ; & b/c of this, he is the only brother who was never a part of the demacian military or wishes to participate in it. due to this v. reason, his father was always disappointed in him, citing the examples of saber to him ; though it never seemed to bother him. during their childhood, ammdar was the closest to fiora. they’d often read together or choose to sneak into the demacian out skirts. she had always asked him if he even liked fencing. he had simply digressed each time, saying that he’d rather see her rise instead of him, himself ; fiora eventually gave up, realising that she won’t be getting a straight answer out of him. marq, the youngest sibling was the most privileged & spoilt. the most extroverted out of the three, he is a great painter, though p. average w/ a needle. he is somewhat easily swayed by words, something saber took an advantage of to turn him against his own sister. his friendly disposition allows him to gain a lot of information in the name of gossip. although marq and fiora did not get to spend much time together, fiora respects his artistic talent. appreciating all forms of art & architecture is something that fiora picked up from him ; he had often told her about different eras that existed in demacia and the fashion & culture related to it. it was a bond that was slowly developing into something really strong prior to the intervention of saber which set these two quite apart.

[burdenedreverance]

@a-la-mort

There was a grim task set forth by the Demacian military, far more agonizing than any siege or battle. It was but a simple affair often ending in sadness, but a necessary one as long as war persisted. It left a stain upon the soul of those who performed such a duty, yet it was one of the most sacred honors one could be asked to perform. And it was simply the notification of the next of kin that their loved one had died in service.

Desmond Hayden was a man respected among his peers, and believed to be a man of some worth by his superiors. A lowborn man who had distinguished himself in the Dauntless through valor and persistence; who held some friendship with the deceased. It was only natural they appoint him to be the deliverer of bad news, as if that would lessen the blow to have a friend do it. But yet he had never met his friend’s sister, except in passing moments. It would not make this easier, and it would not remove the lump in his throat as he approached the residence in ceremonial armor. 

When the military sought to have a parade or ball, they didn’t wear their battle gear but a more tailored outfit. One which displayed their awards, rank, and accolades. It was tight in some places, hard to breath, however gave an air of authority and respect. It was also regulation to deliver such news in an outfit. On his hips where two swords, his own and another far ornate one. One which bore the Laurent name, and was the item he had to deliver. The sword of the fallen.

When he arrived at the estate, he dully informed the servants of his purpose and ask for their discretion. He was quickly taken to a lounge which held table and seating overlooking the Demacian city, but he did not sit. He simply held the metal helm of his outfit under his arms, emerald eyes gazing out into the setting sun waiting for Fiora Laurent.

To tell her, that her brother was dead.

[insurpasse-blog]

elenorsia

  A kind smile, warranted by a wish of nothing hostile for the Grand Duelist. Within her left hand a basket, covered by a simple white cloth, rolls of sweet chocolate breads lay, freshly baked. A sort of peace offering, to help ease her own air of anxiety and slight nervousness of her decision. Sure, it had taken lots of courage to walk uptown to the manor. She was beginning to start to trust again, covered with heavy doubts and unspoken accusations.

  She said nothing with her hands full, unable to use her method of speaking with the basket. Sona nodded her head down respectfully, nonetheless, and motioned to her hands, silently asking Lady Laurent to take her gift.

Fiora looked at the musician, and now head of the Buvelle House, with an eyebrow cocked at her. She was quite interested in what the musician had brought. As for Sona herself, Fiora did not care what the other Heads of House’s thought. Sona was quite the extraordinary musician, but was rather a novice when it came to Demacian politics. So of course, she would stumble and make a number of mistakes along the way.

Fiora opened her door further and gestured for Sona to enter in the residence. “Come in Madame Buvelle. Set down your basket and stay for a while. I would be honored to have your company. Maybe we can talk over tea or coffee?” Fiora asked, a slight smile on her face, quite the uncharacteristic trait for the normally stoic duelist.

@elenorsia

[ladybuvelle]

If it's not too much trouble, may you please write us a "Get me" with Fiora? I'd love to see their interactions. Thank you very much!

Drabble Time | Accepting

Leave a “Get Me” in my ask, and I will write a drabble about my character saving yours. 

“You’re back again?” the haughty young woman all but sneered. All but, as she wouldn’t lower herself to being out-right and truly rude. But it wasn’t Sona’s fault. Her adoptive mother kept wanting her to become friends with the young Laurent, yet every attempt was met with contempt. The Laurents offered their daughter as a dueling partner for a time, to which Sona failed rather miserably. She took instruction well enough. She learned how to stand and how to hold a foil. But Fiora’s domineering attitude and apparent immediate dislike of the low-born Ionian girl set to be her sparring partner discouraged Sona from even wanting to try.

So the lessons stopped, but Sona was still nudged in Fiora’s direction when Lestara decided to pay the family a visit. Her mother wanted her to have friends. Powerful allies. And she saw that potential in Fiora Laurent. If only her family saw the same.

“I have no lessons for you today, petite princesse” she waved the blue-haired woman off. “Or are you here to see the roses?”

Indeed, the Laurent estate had magnificent rose gardens. Blood reds and crisp whites and blush pinks - they were immaculate and beautiful, surrounding seemingly every corner and hedge wherever one looked.

Sona nodded nervously, her hands folded but clasped tight in her own anxiety. Fiora showed little patience with her in regards to being mute, which only made things harder between them. But what else could she do?

“Come, then” Fiora sighed, “You may as well. I’m sure you’d just follow along otherwise anyway, wouldn’t you?” Like a puppy. Sona even looked like a puppy to her with those big pigtails. Like a papillion’s ears. A good analogy too, she thought, since the young Maven may as well have been as delicate as a butterfly with the way she carried herself and refused to fight back.

Why would Lestara take such interest in this chit of a girl? But then, the Buvelles always were eccentric...

They slowly wandered past row after row of beautiful blooms in relative silence. Sona couldn’t keep her eyes on any one thing, smiling and filled with a kind of blissful wonder. Demacia was so beautiful, and each day presented her more and more beautiful things to admire and gawk at. Fiora had already seen it all. She lived here. It was hers. Yet there was some comfort in the walk for her, even if she normally would have preferred it alone. Familiar steps and sights; a mental state where she was her own person, walking her own way. Not the way her father always tried to direct her.

Fiora was violently jostled out of her daydreaming by Sona’s hand grabbing and pulling on her arm.

“W-what are you doing?!” she screeched in shock, looking back to Sona who was violently gesturing and pointing at the ground before them. Her face was pale and full of fear.

A snake had slithered from between the thorn bushes, nearly invisible with just how green it was against the grass. Apparently it had decided this would be a good place to make its home, and didn’t take kindly to those passing by its territory.

Fiora was first shocked. Then outraged. This creature dared turn its fangs to her? On her property?! In front of company, no less! She had nothing on her person with which to defend them as she was wearing her day dress, but her eyes quickly found a hoe one of the gardeners had left nearby. Her sudden movement toward it was foolish, as it caused the snake to lash out toward her - but it thankfully missed due to the confusion of her long skirt. In a single movement Fiora had armed herself, turned the tool to it’s sharper end, and guillotined the serpent where it lay confused.

Sona just stood her shaking, her mouth open as if to scream - though obviously nothing came out. Fiora was at least grateful for that... the last thing she wanted was a scene.

“... shall we go back inside?” she offered instead after examining her work. It was a pretty good cut for a garden tool. “The outdoors seem to be unwelcoming at the moment.”