#blood moon thresh

[wardens-art]

this is how I imagine the interactions to go

[mizumech]

Day 4: Divine/Infernal

It’s mizumech! I had this written a little in advance, so here it is. Presenting “rises the moon” a demon hunter AU clocking in at 1743 words.

I reserve all rights to editing and putting it up on ao3, and happy reading! :]

TW: guns, swearing, injury

—

Martyn’s hands twitch on his rifle. The day is almost gone and he can make out the faintest shape of the moon in the sky.

Tonight will be the night he hunts a demon.

The church altar roars with noise as the pastor rouses the people and their pitchforks, and Martyn’s stomach seems to do a flip.

He clutches at the lapis talisman under his coat; because something deep down is telling him that this hunt will be one of his biggest mistakes for a reason he can’t fathom.

He’s not scared of the chase and he’s not scared to kill. He doesn’t believe in their god and he doesn’t believe in demons.

So why does his heart still protest this one like his life depends on it?

Martyn remembers his first kill. A great stag on a full moon, with antlers that pronged towards the sky.

Ren hadn’t been there to see it, but he had congratulated him on it when he came back to town, so that was that.

Speaking of which, where is he?

Well, any excuse to be away from that frenzied mob. Any excuse to be where he actually belongs.

~

Back at the house, Ren…isn’t there either.

The pantry’s also bare, which is strange since Martyn clearly remembers going to the market to buy pumpkins, potatoes, and steak with Ren just yesterday.

To be fair, Ren’s always a little absent during full moons, and the week after often consists of Martyn helping to patch up wounds that he knows Ren will never explain, but tonight is important to the safety of their home, and Ren wouldn’t just run, right?

Right?

But his coat and his axe are gone.

Where could he be?

~

Ren watches as Martyn leaves the altar with worry twisting his features.

In that moment where the moonlight slips through the rooftops and catches his features, Ren thinks he might be looking at a god.

His hair looks like someone spun gold and took the care to sew it into a doll and his eyes are like if someone could have a Heart of the Sea for eyes.

God to a mortal.

Unbeliever to a demon.

A shout from the rabble startles him out of his trance.

The moon is rising, and his simpage must cease, for the sake of both his safety and Martyn’s sanity.

Goodbye, sweet Dogwarts, he thinks.

If Ren can help it, he will never see Dogwarts again.

~

No one has seen him.

Neither that nice librarian who’s dedicated their life to Mending books nor that farmer who’s spent theirs in the sun hoeing and threshing grain.

Martyn can’t tell if he’s buying himself time or running out of time.

However, Martyn has suspicions. 

One last spot to check before giving up, he decides, just one more.

~

As he reaches the forest, Martyn decides enough is enough. He’s quickly gotten sidetracked by a shady figure who he knows he can't let go and he still hasn’t found Ren.

He forcefully loads his rifle, letting his normally practiced movements be heard.

The hooded figure stops in its tracks and slowly turns around.

Martyn trains his gun on them, not willing to make another sound until they do, cacophony of hard breathing and pumping blood rushing in his ears; thoughts of Ren all gone.

Who-you, they sign in Dogwarts Sign Language, Why-here?

Martyn’s thought flow stutters to a halt. 

“I—I’m not going to put down my gun. I—Maybe you’re mute or maybe you’re deaf but I don’t know what your intentions are, or whether you’re a threat to us…”

He lets out a shaky exhale, almost too shaky for his liking, the adrenaline leaving, leaving Martyn working on empty but surprisingly clear-headed.

His fingers twitch on the trigger.

“Show me you don’t mean any harm.”

The hooded figure fumbles, patting themself down for any talismans or tokens, presumably.

Martyn has no problems with that, but then the hooded figure’s hands start retreating towards the pocket area, and that’s what raises his hackles.

It could be a knife or it could be a bribe or it could be a—

He shoots. Better safe than sorry.

The sound reverberates, bullet arching upwards, straight and true in some twisted arithmetic question; gun recoil hitting his cheekbone, just as the hooded figure reaches out a hand; either to stop him or to show him something and shouts his name.

“Martyn!”

Fuck.

He’s just alerted basically the whole village to their location with his gunshot, for it to be nothing.

Martyn slowly lowers his gun from its position, from pointing towards the sky to strapped across his shoulder.

He doesn’t even need to look at what they were trying to show him, because he’d know that voice anywhere.

“Ren.”

“Hey.”

Martyn sighs. Out of petulance, he turns to reloading and cleaning his rifle; very purposefully not meeting Ren’s gaze.

“Well, if you’ve got anything to say, at all,” he sneers as the bullet case is ejected, “Now’s the time to do it. You know how much time you have.”

“I’m sorry, my dude.”

“You’re always sorry, Ren. Every month you’re sorry, and from the moment I met you when you were bleeding in the woods you were sorry. Doesn’t that remind you of someone?”

The image of flaxen hair and void-dark eyes seems to telepathically manifest between them.

“That’s not fair, to compare me to him.”

Fair?

“What? Because he’s the one who’s bandaging his landlord’s wounds? Because he’s never left Scar?” Martyn snarls, all his previously bubbling annoyance suddenly rising to the top; rifle now aimed back at Ren, “What do you take me for?”

“Martyn—“

“All you ever do is leave,” Martyn grits out, between the roiling turmoil that threatens to make him shed tears because gods above, Ren is someone who he has always cared too damn much about, “You leave and you come back right as I think you’re gone forever and then you leave again and you leave me to pick up the pieces—“

“You don’t understand, Martyn! I’m leaving for a reason that is bigger than you and me. I can’t tell you or show you because—“

Martyn slowly lowers his rifle again.

“—because you don’t trust me?”

Ren sighs, adjusting his robes while he fidgets.

“…yeah, I guess. I—I—take a walk with me?”

“Don’t be a coward about this. No more running, no more running away, okay?”

“I’m not,” Ren says, and Martyn can hear his voice crack, “I’m not running. That’s not the difficult part.”

“Then stop walking away. Stop fucking—leaving all the time. If you’re going to leave, don’t keep coming back just to do it again. What is so much bigger than me that I can’t understand it? Am I just not enough?”

“You’re always gonna be enough, Martyn.”

It would be so easy for Martyn to leave it on that; something that will keep him going in hard times. But all his problems in his life have been because of his big fucking mouth, and it seems that he’ll never be able to let go of that habit of betting on losing dogs.

“If it’s so damn easy for you to leave, why do you even bother coming back at all?”

“Because leaving ISN’T THE EASY PART, MARTYN!” Ren shouts, maybe sobs out, “It's loving you, that’s the easiest goddamn thing in the world! That’s why it’s so difficult to come back! I come back every month and I see you worried! I see you holding your questions and I know you want answers that I can’t give you!”

In the emotional scuffle, Ren’s hood falls.

The moonlight that’s cast on his face starts to distort his features, much to Martyn’s horror and shock as his eyes go crimson and grey starts to seep into his normally brown hair; the colour of wolf fur. His skin starts to mottle with scales and his figure starts to tower, with horns spiralling and leathery wings ripping out of his back like a leviathan might cut through the sea and into the open air.

Martyn clutches his rifle, frame seemingly cutting into his hands like an ill-made axe, as he whispers with uselessly trembling hands, as he shrinks away from him, “Ren, your hood’s off, Ren——”

The air suddenly feels dryer, now like the air wasn’t made for someone human like Martyn himself to breathe.

“Who’s the coward now, Martyn? Who’s running?”

That word jolts him out of the trance. 

Why is he running? From Ren, of all people?

“That’s…fair.”

Ren turns away from him.

“I can hear them coming. Do what you have to do. You know how much time you have.”

“I’m…sorry. For all of this. I just wasn’t expecting it to be you.”

There’s a rueful laugh from Ren.

“You were also sorry from the moment we met, weren’t you? You’re also sorry every month when you make me drink that—glistering melon juice.”

“That’s just…us now, I guess. Losing dogs who can’t stop regretting.”

“And who’ll be left to bet on us?”

They both share a melancholy chuckle. A good last inside joke to ease the parting pains.

~

Finally, the pitchforks come and the shouts of the rabble grow ever louder as they approach.

Ren turns back to him, eyes conveying some sort of look Martyn can’t ever hope to decipher in this lifetime. 

There’s so much he wants to say. So much he wants to leave unsaid.

And for once in his life, his big mouth (doesn’t) fail(s) him.

Ren’s height forces Martyn to look up to stare into those strangely pink pupils; pink like a peony in a snake’s skull; up like a child looking upon a god.

As Ren seems to ascend with the beats of those powerful wings, one of the elders shouts for Martyn.

“Shoot, boy, shoot!”

Instinct suddenly kicks in again.

He raises his rifle.

Shoots a missing shot, just skimming Ren’s ear and reloads.

The bullet case falls beside a lapis talisman that matches his.

It’s Ren’s.

That’s enough to send a tear streaking down Martyn’s face as he takes aim again because he could have killed him—

He closes his eyes, and lets fate take his next shot. Maybe he won’t even shoot.

“All you do is leave,” Martyn whispers bitterly against the butt of his gun; maybe a bit of a justification to himself, and maybe a bit of an angry mourning, “All you've ever done is leave.”

Martyn’s hands twitch on his rifle. The day is almost gone and he can make out the faintest shape of the moon in the sky.

Tonight will be the night he hunts a demon.

The church altar roars with noise as the pastor rouses the people and their pitchforks, and Martyn’s stomach seems to do a flip.

He clutches at the lapis talisman under his coat; because something deep down is telling him that this hunt will be one of his biggest mistakes for a reason he can’t fathom.

He’s not scared of the chase and he’s not scared to kill. He doesn’t believe in their god and he doesn’t believe in demons.

So why does his heart still protest this one like his life depends on it?

Martyn remembers his first kill. A great stag on a full moon, with antlers that pronged towards the sky.

Ren hadn’t been there to see it, but he had congratulated him on it when he came back to town, so that was that.

Speaking of which, where is he?

Well, any excuse to be away from that frenzied mob. Any excuse to be where he actually belongs.

~

Back at the house, Ren…isn’t there either.

The pantry’s also bare, which is strange since Martyn clearly remembers going to the market to buy pumpkins, potatoes, and steak with Ren just yesterday.

To be fair, Ren’s always a little absent during full moons, and the week after often consists of Martyn helping to patch up wounds that he knows Ren will never explain, but tonight is important to the safety of their home, and Ren wouldn’t just run, right?

Right?

But his coat and his axe are gone.

Where could he be?

~

Ren watches as Martyn leaves the altar with worry twisting his features.

In that moment where the moonlight slips through the rooftops and catches his features, Ren thinks he might be looking at a god.

His hair looks like someone spun gold and took the care to sew it into a doll and his eyes are like if someone could have a Heart of the Sea for eyes.

God to a mortal.

Unbeliever to a demon.

A shout from the rabble startles him out of his trance.

The moon is rising, and his simpage must cease, for the sake of both his safety and Martyn’s sanity.

Goodbye, sweet Dogwarts, he thinks.

If Ren can help it, he will never see Dogwarts again.

~

No one has seen him.

Neither that nice librarian who’s dedicated their life to Mending books nor that farmer who’s spent theirs in the sun hoeing and threshing grain.

Martyn can’t tell if he’s buying himself time or running out of time.

However, Martyn has suspicions. 

One last spot to check before giving up, he decides, just one more.

~

As he reaches the forest, Martyn decides enough is enough. He’s quickly gotten sidetracked by a shady figure who he knows he can't let go and he still hasn’t found Ren.

He forcefully loads his rifle, letting his normally practiced movements be heard.

The hooded figure stops in its tracks and slowly turns around.

Martyn trains his gun on them, not willing to make another sound until they do, cacophony of hard breathing and pumping blood rushing in his ears; thoughts of Ren all gone.

Who-you, they sign in Dogwarts Sign Language, Why-here?

Martyn’s thought flow stutters to a halt. 

“I—I’m not going to put down my gun. I—Maybe you’re mute or maybe you’re deaf but I don’t know what your intentions are, or whether you’re a threat to us…”

He lets out a shaky exhale, almost too shaky for his liking, the adrenaline leaving, leaving Martyn working on empty but surprisingly clear-headed.

His fingers twitch on the trigger.

“Show me you don’t mean any harm.”

The hooded figure fumbles, patting themself down for any talismans or tokens, presumably.

Martyn has no problems with that, but then the hooded figure’s hands start retreating towards the pocket area, and that’s what raises his hackles.

It could be a knife or it could be a bribe or it could be a—

He shoots. Better safe than sorry.

The sound reverberates, bullet arching upwards, straight and true in some twisted arithmetic question; gun recoil hitting his cheekbone, just as the hooded figure reaches out a hand; either to stop him or to show him something and shouts his name.

“Martyn!”

Fuck.

He’s just alerted basically the whole village to their location with his gunshot, for it to be nothing.

Martyn slowly lowers his gun from its position, from pointing towards the sky to strapped across his shoulder.

He doesn’t even need to look at what they were trying to show him, because he’d know that voice anywhere.

“Ren.”

“Hey.”

Martyn sighs. Out of petulance, he turns to reloading and cleaning his rifle; very purposefully not meeting Ren’s gaze.

“Well, if you’ve got anything to say, at all,” he sneers as the bullet case is ejected, “Now’s the time to do it. You know how much time you have.”

“I’m sorry, my dude.”

“You’re always sorry, Ren. Every month you’re sorry, and from the moment I met you when you were bleeding in the woods you were sorry. Doesn’t that remind you of someone?”

The image of flaxen hair and void-dark eyes seems to telepathically manifest between them.

“That’s not fair, to compare me to him.”

Fair?

“What? Because he’s the one who’s bandaging his landlord’s wounds? Because he’s never left Scar?” Martyn snarls, all his previously bubbling annoyance suddenly rising to the top; rifle now aimed back at Ren, “What do you take me for?”

“Martyn—“

“All you ever do is leave,” Martyn grits out, between the roiling turmoil that threatens to make him shed tears because gods above, Ren is someone who he has always cared too damn much about, “You leave and you come back right as I think you’re gone forever and then you leave again and you leave me to pick up the pieces—“

“You don’t understand, Martyn! I’m leaving for a reason that is bigger than you and me. I can’t tell you or show you because—“

Martyn slowly lowers his rifle again.

“—because you don’t trust me?”

Ren sighs, adjusting his robes while he fidgets.

“…yeah, I guess. I—I—take a walk with me?”

“Don’t be a coward about this. No more running, no more running away, okay?”

“I’m not,” Ren says, and Martyn can hear his voice crack, “I’m not running. That’s not the difficult part.”

“Then stop walking away. Stop fucking—leaving all the time. If you’re going to leave, don’t keep coming back just to do it again. What is so much bigger than me that I can’t understand it? Am I just not enough?”

“You’re always gonna be enough, Martyn.”

It would be so easy for Martyn to leave it on that; something that will keep him going in hard times. But all his problems in his life have been because of his big fucking mouth, and it seems that he’ll never be able to let go of that habit of betting on losing dogs.

“If it’s so damn easy for you to leave, why do you even bother coming back at all?”

“Because leaving ISN’T THE EASY PART, MARTYN!” Ren shouts, maybe sobs out, “It's loving you, that’s the easiest goddamn thing in the world! That’s why it’s so difficult to come back! I come back every month and I see you worried! I see you holding your questions and I know you want answers that I can’t give you!”

In the emotional scuffle, Ren’s hood falls.

The moonlight that’s cast on his face starts to distort his features, much to Martyn’s horror and shock as his eyes go crimson and grey starts to seep into his normally brown hair; the colour of wolf fur. His skin starts to mottle with scales and his figure starts to tower, with horns spiralling and leathery wings ripping out of his back like a leviathan might cut through the sea and into the open air.

Martyn clutches his rifle, frame seemingly cutting into his hands like an ill-made axe, as he whispers with uselessly trembling hands, as he shrinks away from him, “Ren, your hood’s off, Ren——”

The air suddenly feels dryer, now like the air wasn’t made for someone human like Martyn himself to breathe.

“Who’s the coward now, Martyn? Who’s running?”

That word jolts him out of the trance. 

Why is he running? From Ren, of all people?

“That’s…fair.”

Ren turns away from him.

“I can hear them coming. Do what you have to do. You know how much time you have.”

“I’m…sorry. For all of this. I just wasn’t expecting it to be you.”

There’s a rueful laugh from Ren.

“You were also sorry from the moment we met, weren’t you? You’re also sorry every month when you make me drink that—glistering melon juice.”

“That’s just…us now, I guess. Losing dogs who can’t stop regretting.”

“And who’ll be left to bet on us?”

They both share a melancholy chuckle. A good last inside joke to ease the parting pains.

~

Finally, the pitchforks come and the shouts of the rabble grow ever louder as they approach.

Ren turns back to him, eyes conveying some sort of look Martyn can’t ever hope to decipher in this lifetime. 

There’s so much he wants to say. So much he wants to leave unsaid.

And for once in his life, his big mouth (doesn’t) fail(s) him.

Ren’s height forces Martyn to look up to stare into those strangely pink pupils; pink like a peony in a snake’s skull; up like a child looking upon a god.

As Ren seems to ascend with the beats of those powerful wings, one of the elders shouts for Martyn.

“Shoot, boy, shoot!”

Instinct suddenly kicks in again.

He raises his rifle.

Shoots a missing shot, just skimming Ren’s ear and reloads.

The bullet case falls beside a lapis talisman that matches his.

It’s Ren’s.

That’s enough to send a tear streaking down Martyn’s face as he takes aim again because he could have killed him—

He closes his eyes, and lets fate take his next shot. Maybe he won’t even shoot.

“All you do is leave,” Martyn whispers bitterly against the butt of his gun; maybe a bit of a justification to himself, and maybe a bit of an angry mourning, “All you've ever done is leave.”

@treebarkweek

[odekoyma]

Considering your other ship with Alune is Rhaast, I feel like she would be more into Spirit Blossom!Thresh's monster form than his human one lol

LOL! TRUE! It's just my random idea that I keep seeing with Thresh being involved with Alune & Aphelios. Maybe they can work for him, while Alune is being his favorite possession that he doesn't want to give out to anyone!!!!!! Here can work a "Bird in a cage" situation, where Alune just lets herself being with that demon thinking she is doing everyone good. (that's until she meets one particular Blood Moon person...) i don't think I am gonna prioritise my time to develop this story, I just felt in THEORY it could work out...

[racco]

Hello dear! I was wondering if I could request some Aphelios x fem!reader SFW headcanons? Perhaps he gets injured in battle and his S/O cares for him? Take your time!

Aphelios x reader taking care of him after battle

Fem reader

☆ Depeding on how long ago the battle was, he might still be under the effect of the potion, wich makes him not able to speak much, but it also makes it so that Alune still has some vision of what is going on and she is so grateful he found such a caring girl like you

☆ With his throat still being tightened from the potion he can't talk to you much, but as you are bandaging him he takes a moment to look into your eyes and mouth a 'thank you'

☆ Sometimes he can't even really tell how bad he is hurt because of the potion numbing him wich is why he's glad for your assistance, you can easily tell if his wounds are severe and need immediate attention

☆ As you patch him up and he starts to get sober he will not wince or flinch even if it hurts, that's just how much your touch relaxes him and trusts you won't hurt him more.

☆ At first would not expect you to care of him when it comes to battle wounds. It gets him nostalgic and remembers how he and his sister used to help eatchother after training so much their blood spilled

☆ It really warms his heart that he has someone to help him and take care of him in moments like these and he knows no matter what you two will always be under the same moon

☆ The next few days when he's still in recovery and healing, would eat and be thankful for anything you made him. In his head he's still a little embarrassed that he let himself be so reckless and got hurt so badly, he doesn't want you to see him like this.

☆ He thanks you with lots of affection and story's from the lunari and also from battles if you would like to hear about it

...

A/N don't mind my absence, I'll try to get to others requests too. sorry for not posting also I got spirit blossom thresh from a box daddy is home !!!!

[mega-aulover]

The Chosen One

Rating: M

Synopsis: Everlark AU. Characters off-Canon, Fantasy SciFi set on Earth during the Dark Ages. Panem is ruled by bloodthirsty King Thread and his enchantress Enobaria who will stop at nothing to prevent the rightful king from awakening. Meanwhile, a slave girl named Katniss dreams of a man’s voice calling to her, but she doesn’t know who he is or why he needs her help. She soon discovers that being the Chosen One means danger surrounds her with every step she takes to find this man and her destiny.

**KP** THE CALL:

Katniss’s eyes opened, and she found herself in the midst of the dream she’d been having since before her family was stolen by death. It was always the same. As if on queue, the man’s gentle voice whispered in her ear. “Katniss.”

In a trance, she followed his voice toward massive double wooden doors, ornately carved to depict a garden. The doors opened at the first touch of her hand. The room appeared empty, save for tall, lit candles.

Tonight, however, she heard his voice clearly. He usually sounded so far away. Katniss turned around, looking for him. She thought he stood behind her. His voice was roughened but sweet to her ears. He beckoned, “Come, Katniss, I’ve been waiting for you.”

The twin moons hung high in the sky and they looked closer this time than the last. As always she spotted a bed on a dais.  

Katniss was drawn to the bed. Her heart raced. Her palms turned sweaty as she walked up the steps of the dais, her attention focused in on the body that lay on the bed, covered in a white burial cloth.

Just as she reached out to touch him, a strong pair of arms wound themselves around her middle. This was new to her, but she relaxed into his embrace. His breath was warm as he murmured into her neck, “You are beautiful.”

His hot breath and the caress of his lips against her nape stirred her blood, kindling a yearning she’d never experienced before. Desperate to see him, she turned around in his arms, but once more the door swung open and she was pulled backwards through a tunnel, screaming for him. He was important to her.

Katniss sat up, breathing harshly. Tears fell from her eyes. His voice still resounded in her head, calling her to come back to him. She quickly looked around and rubbed her face. She was exhausted from the ordeal she’d faced. Wiping her face, Katniss lay back down and wondered why this dream never left her and why, when she had finally seen something new, she was pulled back from the bed. Lying back down, she closed her eyes and eventually fell asleep.

She dreamt of the day her father and sister died, but when she woke up screaming in fear, it was morning and they were not alone. They were surrounded by men, with painted faces and vicious eyes. Katniss got to her feet and raised her bow up quickly. Jo stood with her ax ready.

“You are coming with us,” the leader said. He was tall, with bronze hair, broad shouldered. His face was painted in blue and green and along with his sword he had a trident.

“The hell I am,” Johanna said, swinging her ax in the air. The men were quiet. None moved. Katniss notched an arrow, aiming it directly at one of them.

“Stay back,” Joanna shouted.

One of them took a step forward and Jo swung her arm at him. Another approached Katniss. She took aim at him and shot. He dove down and she quickly notched her arrow again. She let it fly at a man trying to tackle Johanna just before a group of men jumped on her, forcibly removing the bow from her hand.

“THRESH,” the man with the blue and green painted face shouted.

“RUN, JOANNA, RUN!!” Katniss screamed, and Jo made a mad dash away.

One of the men yelled, “Go find the other one.”

Katniss struggled as they tied her legs and arms. A short while later a younger soldier came out from the woods. “Sir, we’ve lost her.”

Katniss hung her head in silence, glad Johanna had escaped. She peered up at the men who were eyeing her. “What you going to do with me?”

They didn’t answer her. Instead, they sat her atop a horse and took off with her hanging on for dear life.  At night, they met up with a larger group and the leader of her band of captors threw Katniss over his shoulder and dumped her onto the floor of a covered wagon.

“Stay,” ordered the man who carried her. When he stalked off, she peeked out and saw him speaking to the dark skinned man she felled with her arrow. She also saw some of the wounded women and girls from the Cloister being treated and fed. This was a kind act, something she hadn't expected.

It was said the Invaders were rough on the women they captured, but she observed as the men did not act as if the women were plundered goods. She saw an invader offer a cloak to one of the priestesses, and another gently deposited an older woman as if she was precious inside another covered wagon.

Nothing made sense as they began to move.

Her head lay back against the leather covering of the wagon, the rhythmic thud of the wheels turning causing her to fall into a deep sleep.

“Katniss, come to me,” the male voice called.

Katniss found herself in front of the massive double doors again. This time she noted they had an image of a bird in in-flight, an amulet in its claws. Her hands trembled as she reached out to open the door. Once more the doors opened and closed behind her.

She was back in the room with the tall thick candles. Through the window, she could see the twin moons high in the dark sky and they looked as if they were nearly on top of the other.  She walked forward.

“Katniss,” he whispered in her ear.

With purpose, she ran up the dais steps to his body. Her hand reached out to remove the burial cloth.

“Free me, help me…” he cried.

Katniss pulled away the cloth and saw blond curly hair, just as the door opened up and she was once more yanked away.

Katniss awoke with a scream on her lips. She sat up, but she was not alone. In front of her, an elderly woman smiled. She patted Katniss’s hair.

“Please let me go. Let me free,” Katniss whispered.

The woman shook her head but offered Katniss a sip of water from a mug. Katniss drank deeply, glad for the refreshment. She leaned her head back. The woman placed a small piece of bread to Katniss lips. Katniss opened her mouth. She was hungry, and soon she was full.

“I am Katniss. Who are you? What is your name?”

The woman mumbled something. Katniss could tell she was mute. She sighed, wondering where she was headed.

They traveled by day and night. Each day, the old lady offered her a sip of water and bread. They would make infrequent stops, enough time for Katniss to relieve herself but always with heavy guard. At night she dreamt of the man on the dais; of his voice, his curly blond hair, of a strong muscular chest and arms. She dreamt of cinnamon and dill. None of it made sense, but her dreams grew in frequency until the day they arrived at their destination.

When she opened her eyes, she could tell this day would be different. Her hands and feet were not bound and the leather covering of the cart had been removed. They were winding up a large hill toward a stone castle at the summit.

Katniss expected the castle to look ominous and forbidden with overcast clouds and vultures flying above, like the stories she’d been told of the Invaders as a child.  Instead, it was the sort of castle little girls dream about, an idyllic place with, brightly colored banners hanging from the towers. The village below looked clean. Its people were not dressed in rags as in the streets near the cloister. The walls were formidable and the iron-gate and its barbican were at once welcoming and impregnable.

The sky was blue and the warmth of the summer sun caressed the pale skin of the inhabitants in this land. The uncovered carts made their way inside of the bailey of the castle. When they stopped, men were waiting for them.

She was brought to a bedroom with walls made from stone. A bright tapestry hung on the wall and in one corner was an artist’s nook - a container that held brushes and an easel with a tarp over it. She frowned, wondering who lived here, but then she had a flash...a vision of the back of a man's blond head bent over the easel. Scared she jumped back, but then saw there was a fine film of dust on the mantle. She knew this room, and although it was currently bereft of its owner, knew who once lived there.

Katniss openly gawked at the bed. She’d never slept on one. It was canopied and had heavy curtains, and a quick inspection revealed a soft mattress. The lure of the bed was far too strong for her tired body. Katniss climbed on top and fell asleep. When she awoke, a guard stood by it. Her hands were once more tied and she was gagged.

Two men stood by a window where the sun was cresting over the sky. They were clearly not from Panem, but she heard her native tongue being spoken.

Katniss recognized the back of the man with the blue and green face, the one who captured her. “We had to attack. They were killing the women when we got there. We found the girl at the foot of a cave.”

“I don’t think she’s the one, Finnick,” said the other man whose back was too her. “You brought back eight women and countless little lasses.”

“I don’t know, Rhys. I have a feeling about her. She had a bow with her! She maimed Thresh. How many female slaves do you know who can shoot a man’s bow? Besides, our spy informed us that she is the one.” The one called Finnick tossed a look over his shoulder. He was tall and broad shouldered, with golden skin and had long reddish blond hair around his face. It was a striking face, and seeing her awake, he winked cockily at her.

Katniss scowled at him, but the man he was speaking to did not pay attention to their interaction.  He ran hands through his hair.

“Finnick, you know how important this is, to my kingdom, for my brother. I know how dangerous it is - what our friend is doing amongst Thread and Enobaria. If he is found, he could be killed.”

“Your grace, I know how important this is. I can assure you of that,” Finnick’s words died on his lips as Rhys held up his hand.

The man called Rhys came toward her. He wore a crown upon his brow. His hair was white and his eyes were a murky blue. His youth and vigor had long left him. He had creases in his face, indicating he’d led a hard life.  Her eyes were wide on her face as he ripped her sleeve. He stood back and quickly glanced at Finnick.

“I told you. She’s the one.”

“Leave us,” Rhys ordered.

Finnick and the guard left.

Rhys ran a hand through his hair. “I thought you a myth. I thought you didn’t exist. But Finnick and Plutarch insisted. ”

Katniss didn’t say anything. She had no idea what the man was talking about.

“If I remove your gag, you must promise not to yell,” Rhys said.

There wasn’t any point in screaming. She was being held against her wishes.  The man leaned over and removed her gag.  “I am Rhys, second son of King Mellark.”

Katniss hardened her jaw.

“If you haven't figured it out yet, Mistress Coin was going to sell you to Thread. I’ve brought you here to spare your life.”

“Yet I’m a slave once more,” Katniss said.

“No,” Rhys countered, then ran his hands through his silver blond hair again and sighed. “Yes, but I need your help. You are the one foretold in the legends. It’s fortunate that Coin didn’t know what you are.”

“What?” Katniss frowned. “I think you are crazed.”

“No, I am not. I am a believer. I believe you were born to help him achieve his quest. How is it you know nothing of your heritage, your lineage?”

“I’ve been in hole half of my life,” Katniss said sarcastically.

Rhys looked at her as if she was making fun of him. In part, she was, but she was also telling the truth.

“Listen to me very carefully, daughter of Diana. You will help me because it is your destiny. You are the Mockingjay. The chosen one.”

Katniss was curious. “Why do you call me that?”

Rhys pointed to her arm, “That birthmark tells me you hail from a line of great hunters, descendants of Diana the huntress. You possess a virtuous skill with bow and arrow and Finnick told me you carried one with you when they found you. I know of another who has that same mark.”

Katniss had never heard of such a thing. It was preposterous for someone to have identical marks. The King had to be lying, but Katniss questioned for what purpose would a man of his stature bother to lie to her?

“If it is true what you say, then show me.”

His face was unreadable to Katniss. His dark blue eyes were lit with anger. “I will.”

Her heart beat wildly inside of her chest, but Katniss set her jaw in pure defiance. She watched him get up and yank the door open.

“Bathe her. She reeks,” he barked.

Katniss put her head back against the pillow. King Rhys was going to show her who else had the mark. But what difference did that make? She didn’t understand what was going on. She wondered whether Johanna had suffered some similar fate. All she wanted was to be free. Tears of frustration gathered in her eyes for the first time since this misadventure started. She swore that one day she would be free.

It took several hours before anyone came to the room where she was being kept prisoner.  When the door finally opened again, a group of women came in and arranged white linen cloth on the floor in front of the fireplace.

A young girl, no older than ten and two, came forward and unbound her hands.

Finally free, Katniss wanted to stand but her legs were wobbly.

“Oh miss, you mustn’t get up on your own,” the young girl said alarmed.

Katniss nodded as she stood there she noted nearly all of the girls were young, two were her age and the rest were well past the childbearing age.

Katniss allowed the women to escort her to the tub. She blushed scarlet as the women stripped her of her simple garment, but an hour later she was scrubbed clean and given a green gown and soft leather shoes. She found it odd to wear shoes again, her feet felt trapped.

Her legs were massaged and their strength returned. Her tresses were combed to a lustrous onyx waterfall. Katniss did not recognize the image staring back at her in the mirror.

“You are exactly as the oracle predicted,” a young woman with long reddish brown hair stated.

“I’m sorry,” Katniss turned to face the girl.

“Annie,” another girl urged, “We must get her to the chamber. The midnight hour approaches.”

Katniss was frightened, but she followed the women throughout the well-lit corridors of the castle. The castle seemed to be full of men - tall men, short men, thin men, muscular men and ones with rounded bellies. The only women she could see were the ones with her.  They arrived at a room with double doors and found King Rhys waiting outside. She kept on looking for the old woman who took care of her in the wagon but she did not see her.

Katniss looked at the doors, then back at King Rhys. Her eyes were wide on her face. She recognized these doors. She didn’t need to get any closer to know these ornate wooden doors were carved with a relief of a garden. Katniss moved forward automatically.

The doors to the room were opened by the guards. Transfixed, Katniss passed over the threshold, and just like in her dream, lit candles stood everywhere. Moonlight spilled in through the open window. She swallowed as she approached the dais. Her hands shook as she grasped the white burial cloth and pulled it off.

There on the bed lay a handsome boy, about her age, with blond curly hair. He looked innocent, and it seemed as if he were asleep. She frowned, her heart beat wildly as her first instinct was to kiss his lips. It shocked her when she realized her mouth hovered over his, but she made no move to stop herself as her lashes fluttered closed and she pressed her lips to his.

She felt a warm breath against her face and a hand reached up to cup her cheek. His lips were warm and she felt a rush of hunger as she shyly responded back to him. Their lips separated but still needing contract, they touched their foreheads together, their breathing harsh. She kept her lashes shut.

“You came,” he whispered to her.

Had she not been awake, she wouldn’t have believed what was happening to her. “You’ve been calling me.”

He laughed. She opened her eyes and pulled back to see a pair of vivid blue eyes staring at her. His lips were quirked up in a smile. She stumbled backward and was caught by Finnick who promptly pulled her away. She reached out to the boy in the bed, but she was dragged away and shut once more into her chambers.

[togetherhearted]

LEAGUE OF LEGENDS MASTERLIST

Machine Herald [Viktor]:

Snuggles

Cold

Wintery stuff

Birthday

Cuddly moments

Machine Herald x vesani!reader

Viktor with an assistant who's into him headcanons

Shieda Kayn:

Bees

Kayn x fem vampire!reader

Kayn with a battle feral s/o

Kayn with a lifeless!reader

Jax:

Starry night

Wintery stuff

Winter special - Scarf

Cuddly moments

Sleepy cuddles

Jayce:

I'm all yours,not going anywhere

Zed:

You have a good heart

Debonair Zed with a Gothic Lolita S/O

Aphelios:

How about a kiss?

SB!Aphelios x Fem!Winter blossom

Heartsteel!Aphelios x figure skater!S/O

You're stunning

Nasus:

Books

Nasus with explosives specialist S/O

VI:

Superhero!Vi -Saving a life

Cheater Vi

Akali:

Reader meets crime city!Akali

Reader meets crime city!Akali part 2.

KDA akali meets reader's child

Reader Vs Akali

Evelynn:

Reader Vs Evelynn

KDA Evelynn meets reader's child

Reader asks to touch Evelynn's "tails"

Spirit Blossom Evelynn x reader

Coven Evelynn and Siren!Reader

Evelynn with a S/O that can't feel pain

Sugar rush Evelynn with a short S/O

Sejuani:

Sejuani with a s/o good at stealing things

Firecracker Sejuani with s short S/O

You can't leave without letting me hug you first

Zyra:

Zyra with a s/o good at stealing things

Haunted Zyra with invisible reader

Elise:

Elise with a s/o good at stealing things

Stargazing was a good idea

Elise s/o taking a hit for her

Blood Moon Elise with an invisible reader

Ahri:

KDA Ahri meets reader's child

Reader Vs Ahri

Reader asks to touch Ahri's tails

Spirit Blossom Ahri and Siren!Reader

Ahri with a S/O that can't feel pain

SG Ahri enemies to lovers

Ahri s/o taking a hit for her

Arcade Ahri with an invisible reader

Kai'sa:

KDA Kai'sa meet reader's child

You can't leave without letting me hug you first

Karthus:

Karthus S/O taking a hit for him

Hwei:

Hwei x fem!piltovian reader

Hwei with a lifeless!reader

Jhin:

Jhin S/O taking a hit for him

Project Jhin with a Gothic Lolita S/O

Seraphine:

KDA Seraphine meets reader's child

KDA Seraphine and Siren!Reader

Reader wants to sing with Seraphine

Viego:

Viego x unicorn princess!reader

Viego S/O taking a hit for him

Viego with a battle feral s/o

Viego with a lifeless!reader

Vex:

General Vex headcanons as a partner

Vex headcanons as a wife

Sett:

Big bro Sett

Sett with explosive specialist S/O

Thresh:

Thresh with explosive specialist S/O

Lissandra:

Lissandra with a S/O that can't feel pain

Miss Fortune:

SG Miss fortune enemies to lovers

Miss fortune s/o taking a hit for her

Jinx:

SG Jinx enemies to lovers

Hecarim:

Hecarim meeting his S/O

Hecarim with a battle feral s/o

Morgana:

Blackthorne Morgana with a short S/O

You can't leave without letting me hug you first

Tahm kench:

High noon Tahm Kench with a Gothic Lolita S/O

Yone:

Yone and his daughter

Poly:

Kda girls married to one lucky man

[league-of-starlight]

Voice Update Concept: Vladimir.

@thomas-jefferson-miku-binder

@blackrosesmatron

First Move:

“So much to kill, so little time.”

“The table is set, let us indulge.”

Long move:

“I’ve had many names, a shame I can’t remember them all.”

“A grand shift in Noxus looms, I can taste it…”

“Blood is a power many know, but I am the only master.”

First encounter:

“Hello, dear. Please, won’t you stay for a drink?”

“Ah, fresh blood.”

Joke response: 

“I’ve heard better jokes from children.”

Taunt response:

“Feisty, I like that.”

Killing:

(General):

“Don’t be greedy.”

“Oh, delicious blood.”

“*Sigh* “A peculiar aftertaste.”

Pentakill:

“Bow before your lord of blood!”

Recall:

“Sorry, darlings! Need to clean myself up.”

“Don’t wait for me!”

Death:

“After all these years…”

“Finally…”

Respawn:

“Hm, haven’t died like that yet.”

“Oh, aren’t you clever?”

Character specific dialogue:

First encounter:

Blood Moon Skins: “A blood moon festival? Sounds like my kind of fun.”

Briar: “Hm, perhaps I can use you…”

Darius: “It must take a strong heart to use that weapon.”

Darkin: “It’s been a while since I’ve seen one of you.”

Kalista: “My dear niece, you look pale.”

Katarina: “Blood magic? At least ask my permission.”

Thresh: “I can appreciate a flair for the dramatic.”

Vladimir: “Oh dear, do I really look like that?”

Taunt:

Leblanc: “I noticed the poison in my glass last week. I knew you cared.”

Viego: You didn’t answer my letter, so I’m here in person.

Project skins:

“Ugh. There’s no fun in metal…”

Taunt Response:

Rell: “Poor attitude, tut tut.”

Kill:

Leblanc: “See you next time, dear.”

Sion: “Enjoy it while you can.”

Swain: “Leblanc might be disappointed. Might.”

Vladimir: “Another impersonator, wiped clean.”

[zileans-big-cl0ck]

✦–Hello there! Call me Demosthenes.✦

✦Be my guest on this side blog, where I write about League of Legends and Valorant. // Masterlist

✧Requests:

You can send me anything, anonymous or not, I will gladly check it out as soon as possible. I respond only to those I find interesting though, and write when inspired, therefore watch out for slow responses. Every interaction is appreciated! Don’t be shy and talk to me about lore or your game. I would love to make some League of Legends/Valorant mutuals.

I write both SFW and NSFW for champions and agents listed below this paragraph. I do not write for any other characters, just because I don’t enjoy their lore (or I simply don’t know it) or despise their whole being. It might be uptaded in the future. You can request headcanons, Alphabets (NSFW, SFW, Angst) or prompts about the character from the original lore, or one from the alternative universes, which are also listed below. Please specify your pronouns when requesting anything, otherwise I will use whichever will suit the story (which are usually female). In addiction, please let me know if the reader should be dom or sub. Because if not, I will probably write something with a top female character and a submissive man with a mommy kink. (All top reader requests are humbly appreciated, haha.)

Remember that all of this is written for fun, so do not take it seriously and have a nice day.

✧Tags:

✦demosthenes organises ; for better accessibility.

✦demosthenes writes ; for my work.

✦demosthenes replies ; usually for expressing how thankful I am for your kind comments.

✦demosthenes talks ; for shitpost and asks from my humble person towards my audience.

✦demosthenes reblogs ; for every of my reblog in case you would want to dive in some League/Valorant content, since I repost only it.

✧Champions I write for:

Male: Aatrox, Azir, Draven, Graves, Hecarim, Jhin, Kayn, Mordekaiser, Nasus, Pantheon, Pyke, Rakan, Rhaast, Sett, Shen, Swain, Sylas, Talon, Thresh, Varus, Viktor, Yasuo, Yone, Zed.

Female: Ahri, Akali, Bel’veth, Caitlyn, Camille, Cassiopeia, Evelynn, Gwen, Kai’sa, Kalista, Kayle, Lillia, Lissandra, Miss Fortune, Morgana, Nami, Neeko, Qiyana, Rell, Renata Glasc, Sejuani, Senna, Shyvana, Sona, Soraka, Taliyah, Vayne, Vex, Xayah.

✧Alternative Universes/Skinlines:

AnimaTech

Battle Queens

Crime City Nightmare (with Debonair)

Event Horizon (Dark Stars, Cosmics)

Fallen World

Guardian of the Sands

High Noon Gothic

Moons Of Ionia (Blood Moon & Snow Moon)

Odyssey

PROJECT

PsyOps

Riot Records (Heartsteel, K/DA, Pentakill, True Damage)

Ruination

Sentinels of Light

Soul Fighter

Spirit Blossom

Star Guardian

✧Agents I write for:

Male: Breach, Chamber, Cypher, Gekko, Kay/o, Omen, Phoenix, Sova, Yoru.

Female: Fade, Killjoy, Raze, Sage, Skye, Viper.

[wardens-art]

Peaceful moment after the (wedding) ceremony

This was a valentines day art c:

[the-higher-the-tide]

My Favorite Thresh Skin - High Noon Thresh

Yeehaw.

I think TBSkyen did a very good video on beautiful splash arts that explains what makes High Noon Thresh’s splash work so well. I believe a large part of it is just the way he’s posed. He’s sitting. He’s waiting. And he’s very dominant (🥵🥵).

The skinline itself takes inspiration from the wild west, so to have Thresh’s head (normally a skull) be a cow’s skull is practically a no-brainer. And the fire really emphasizes the angels vs. devils/heaven and hell themes.

In-game, one of the things I appreciate the most is how they handle the three “braids” coming out of the back of his head.

I’m not entirely sure what they are in his base as they kind of just look like bones with hooks at the ends, but several of his skins (Unbound, Spirit Blossom, Blood Moon, Steel Dragon, Lunar Emperor) make them his hair. It works well enough for Unbound and Spirit Blossom, but not so much for Blood Moon. And Steel Dragon and Lunar Emperor have actual braids that look very similar, though I definitely prefer them to Blood Moon. I suppose it wouldn’t make much sense for a cow skull to have hair, but nonetheless the fire effects are very nice.

The lasso is very cool.

My favorite chroma is Tanzanite because he’s pink. Back when my partner and I first started dating, we played Xayah/Rakan and Senna/Lucian bot. Before eventually switching to Electrocute Nami/Lucian back when it was more popular, I decided I preferred playing Thresh over Senna. So he’d play High Noon Lucian using the Rose Quartz chroma and I’d play High Noon Thresh using Tanzanite.

If I ever get back into playing Thresh, I could definitely still match with him since Irelia and now Katarina both have High Noon skins.

[fcb4]

A Solemn Assembly: Friday, 7pm @JWC for Intercession, Worship and Prophecy

On Holy Friday JWC is gathering a convocation of remembrance of the moment on Golgotha where Jesus was crucified and darkness covered the land.

“It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three, because the sun's light failed” (Luke 23:44)

Like the deep and deadly darkness in Egypt during the Passover, like the darkness prophesied by the prophet Joel:

“The sun shall be turned to darkness, and the moon to blood, before the great and awesome day of the Lord comes.” (Joel‬ ‭2‬:‭31‬).

Sacred Friday is a moment to fast and pray in darkness knowing that a great light is about to dawn!

We are calling people to gather in the revelation of The Cross of Christ.

“…now once at the consummation of the ages He has been revealed to put away sin by the sacrifice of Himself.” (Heb 9:26).

Such a moment in the ages of eternity calls for God’s people to fast and pray, to proclaim the ancient prophecies that have been fulfilled and are unfolding in the Earth.

Jesus is returning for a people prepared for His coming apocalypse. Days of darkness are sweeping over the land and as Joel prophesied and the Apostle John foresaw there’s a devouring plague of locusts consuming the good of the land that’s been unleashed from the bottomless pit of demonic orgin.

Joel 1:4

“What the cutting locust left, the swarming locust has eaten. What the swarming locust left, the hopping locust has eaten, and what the hopping locust left, the destroying locust has eaten.”

Revelation 9:2-3

“And he opened the bottomless pit, and smoke arose out of the pit like the smoke of a great furnace. So the sun and the air were darkened because of the smoke of the pit. Then out of the smoke locusts came upon the earth.”

Joel prophesied that it is in these times that the Spirit of God sends a great Holy Spirit outpouring!

The darkness cannot conceal the Sun for long! Rains are falling and the Sun is breaking through the storm clouds.

Joel‬ ‭2‬:‭23‬-‭28‬, ‭30‬-‭32‬ ‭

““Be glad, O children of Zion, and rejoice in the Lord your God, for he has given the early rain for your vindication; he has poured down for you abundant rain, the early and the latter rain, as before.

“The threshing floors shall be full of grain; the vats shall overflow with wine and oil.

I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten, the hopper, the destroyer, and the cutter, my great army, which I sent among you.

“You shall eat in plenty and be satisfied, and praise the name of the Lord your God, who has dealt wondrously with you. And my people shall never again be put to shame.

You shall know that I am in the midst of Israel, and that I am the Lord your God and there is none else. And my people shall never again be put to shame.

“And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out my Spirit on all flesh; your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, and your young men shall see visions.

“And I will show wonders in the heavens and on the earth, blood and fire and columns of smoke. The sun shall be turned to darkness, and the moon to blood, before the great and awesome day of the Lord comes.

And it shall come to pass that everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved. For in Mount Zion and in Jerusalem there shall be those who escape, as the Lord has said, and among the survivors shall be those whom the Lord calls.”

We are praying that those whom the Lord draws will join us for this Solemn Assembly before the Lord to fast and pray for great breakthroughs in the season of our country in the days ahead!

[noeticprayer]

Old Testament Reading 

The Reading is from Joel 3:12-21

Let the nations bestir themselves, and come up to the valley of Jehosh'aphat; for there I will sit to judge all the nations round about.

Put in the sickle, for the harvest is ripe. Go in, tread, for the wine press is full. The vats overflow, for their wickedness is great.

Multitudes, multitudes, in the valley of decision! For the day of the Lord is near in the valley of decision. The sun and the moon are darkened, and the stars withdraw their shining.

And the Lord roars from Zion, and utters his voice from Jerusalem, and the heavens and the earth shake. But the Lord is a refuge to his people, a stronghold to the people of Israel.

"So you shall know that I am the Lord your God, who dwell in Zion, my holy mountain. And Jerusalem shall be holy and strangers shall never again pass through it.

"And in that day the mountains shall drip sweet wine, and the hills shall flow with milk, and all the stream beds of Judah shall flow with water; and a fountain shall come forth from the house of the Lord and water the valley of Shittim.

"Egypt shall become a desolation and Edom a desolate wilderness, for the violence done to the people of Judah, because they have shed innocent blood in their land. But Judah shall be inhabited for ever, and Jerusalem to all generations. I will avenge their blood, and I will not clear the guilty, for the Lord dwells in Zion."

Old Testament Reading 

The Reading is from Joel 2:12-26

"Yet even now," says the Lord, "return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning; and rend your hearts and not your garments." Return to the Lord, your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and repents of evil. Who knows whether he will not turn and repent, and leave a blessing behind him, a cereal offering and a drink offering for the Lord, your God?

Blow the trumpet in Zion; sanctify a fast; call a solemn assembly; gather the people. Sanctify the congregation; assemble the elders; gather the children, even nursing infants. Let the bridegroom leave his room, and the bride her chamber.

Between the vestibule and the altar let the priests, the ministers of the Lord, weep and say, "Spare thy people, O Lord, and make not thy heritage a reproach, a byword among the nations. Why should they say among the peoples, 'Where is their God?'"

Then the Lord became jealous for his land, and had pity on his people. The Lord answered and said to his people, "Behold, I am sending to you grain, wine, and oil, and you will be satisfied; and I will no more make you a reproach among the nations.

"I will remove the northerner far from you, and drive him into a parched and desolate land, his front into the eastern sea, and his rear into the western sea; the stench and foul smell of him will rise, for he has done great things.

"Fear not, O land; be glad and rejoice, for the Lord has done great things! Fear not, you beasts of the field, for the pastures of the wilderness are green; the tree bears its fruit, the fig tree and vine give their full yield.

"Be glad, O sons of Zion, and rejoice in the Lord, your God; for he has given the early rain for your vindication, he has poured down for you abundant rain, the early and the latter rain, as before.

"The threshing floors shall be full of grain, the vats shall overflow with wine and oil. I will restore to you the years which the swarming locust has eaten, the hopper, the destroyer, and the cutter, my great army, which I sent among you.

"You shall eat in plenty and be satisfied, and praise the name of the Lord your God, who has dealt wondrously with you. And my people shall never again be put to shame."

[aurelion-solar]

Blood Moon Thresh - League of Legends: Wild Rift

[enemywithinzine]

🌙 CONTRIBUTOR SPOTLIGHT - DEATH WARDEN🌙

Now introducing Warden, one of the page artists for our zine! Warden's designs are stunningly gorgeous, and we're glad to share the Darkin love too. Are you excited to see her piece? We know we are!

💥 Twitter: Death_Warden 💥 Twitter: Wardens_Art

[leagueoflegends-confessions]

I really like Thresh's Blood Moon skin, but it sadly still has that picking up souls animation bug what other skins don't seem to have to my knowledge. It's a pity because it's not a bad looking skin by any means.

Artwork by Fiveonthe

[slavhew]

Blood Moon Aatrox and Thresh commission for @death-warden !

Again thank you so much for commissioning me, it was fun to work on!