bluezenith
Fandoms
Recent works
-
Tags
Summary
Finance was Ivan’s wheelhouse, and he certainly had a stronger sense for it than Till did. The only reason he’d applied to a business program in the first place was because Urak had cut a deal with him. All he had to do was get in and prove it didn’t matter if someone was Unsha’s son, or the son of any man: Urak’s sons were jagged cuts of rock embedded with a genius his father knifed out of them and made into something divine.
So much for that.
Till loses his only ticket out of a life of roiling smoke and brandy-breath and nightshows at Urak’s bar when his hopes for university wither like a cut flower. He doesn’t know what to do next, except what he’s always done—kick against the goad.
-
Tags
Summary
"Mizi doesn’t know pain yet because you’ll teach it to her. That will be your last lesson, and she’ll remember it forever.” He delivered the news with cheery affect, then looked down and shook his head, as if it were a shame. “Honestly, Sua, I have half a mind to spare her the cruelty and tell her myself.”
Sua stood, rolled her glove off her fingers, and struck him across the face.
Ivan makes his final visit to a friend.
-
Tags
Summary
Noxians were not prone to speaking their feelings plain, something that Mel missed about Piltover. About the man she’d known there, the one with the gap in his teeth and the soft, uneven mouth that smiled when she kissed it. Instead, her countrymen located their grief in their war-worn bodies, and loss was conveyed in the vocabulary of wounds and battle scars.
Grief was a cut, an untended sore that burgeoned and ached. It was a cleft in the muscle that immobilized the limb. The carve of a wound that refused all healing.
Mel grieves.