this could be the same bird or could not be but


How peckish penguins find their food 

Animals have used the same technique to search for food that’s in short supply for at least 50 million years, a BBSRC-funded study suggests.

Creatures including penguins search for food using a mathematical pattern of movement called a Lévy walk. It might sound complex, but it is a random search strategy made up of small steps and a few larger steps. Although a Lévy walk is random, it’s the most efficient way to find food when it’s scarce.

Finding food in a timely fashion could be a matter of life or death. Choose the wrong direction and it could be curtains. But moving in a random search pattern is mathematically the best way to find isolated food. 

Read more

Image credit: Christopher Michel

Stay tuned for more (biological) festivities…


“It was the singers who taught the First Men to send messages by raven…but in those days, the birds would speak the words. The trees remember, but men forget, and so now they write the messages on parchment and tie them round the feet of birds who have never shared their skin.”

Old Nan had told him the same story once, Bran remembered, but when he asked Robb if it was true, his brother laughed and asked him if he believed in grumkins too. He wished Robb were with them now. I’d tell him I could fly, but he wouldn’t believe, so I’d have to show him. I bet that he could learn to fly too, him and Arya and Sansa, even baby Rickon and Jon Snow. We could all be ravens and live in Maester Luwin’s rookery.

Stark siblings thinking (and talking) about each other - Bran and Robb

A Boy and His Powers

I noticed at a very young age that I had this power. It started by finding a dead bird. I cradled the little thing and as I wished for it to come back, I felt a heat well up inside me and the bird flew away. I would discretely do the same thing for the family dog, and then again when my little sister’s beloved turtle stopped moving. It was hard to keep it a secret as pets were miraculously recovering, but I thought of myself as a sort of super hero and never told a soul.

When I was 11, my little sister caught a terrible disease. Her organs began failing, she basically was immobile and could only scream in pain. The doctor’s were stumped, and the family was devastated as we were forced to watch her suffer. Finally, there was nothing more we could do but bring her home and try to make her as comfortable as possible. I wasn’t sure if I could use my powers on a person but I sure as hell wanted to try. It was late at night when her fate finally came. I snuck in and laid my little hands on her stiff body. I felt the heat, my own tears, and then little sis opened her eyes! I was about to scream for joy when she locked eyes with mine and whispered, “It was mum.”

I heard my mother enter the room, and close and lock the door behind her.


I have this insatiable longing to be loved and understood. A hankering for validation. What is that? The same reason birds fly in flocks and stock markets bubble? Some residuum of the herd instinct? I guess it doesn’t matter. What matters is that when I’m with you, I feel loved and understood.

I want to know you, study every inch of your mind. But can you ever truly know a person? We exist only in our little skulls, trapped in indecipherability. Perhaps one day we’ll create machines to scan and decode our brains’ electric hums, so we can read each other’s unguarded thoughts, or walk around in one another’s dreams. There will be no separation, no fear. Only communion. I could finally lose myself to you, in an exultant surrender.

What are you? You are tenderness. You are warmth. Some miraculous shard of evanescent moon. You are a page of the most euphonious words any Earthling language could muster, and I am here, bruised and waiting for you in the marginalia.

Ever yours xx

—  Benedict SmithLetter #3

We picked Mina-pup up from daycare at 5pm, which was when she had her grooming appointment across the store. They said she’d be a few hours, so you know, time for us to get some dinner, go home, get comfy, have a shower, enjoy our rare puppy-free time.

And I’m not saying we wasted every second of that time catching Pokemon, but that is exactly what I’m saying.

There’s a Pokestop at the pub in the same shopping center, so you know, had to check in there. And Hubby discovered on his lunch earlier that there were a few more down the other end of the thing, and if you went over by the fence and angled just right you could catch another. And of course by the time that was done, we could do the pub again.

Then there was driving home. Hubby with his phone in one hand, mine in the other, catching robber birds and purple rat bastards like a pro. (SERIOUSLY HOW MANY PURPLE RAT BASTARDS  DO I NEED MY GOD)

Traffic was a bit thick, and we were at a stoplight by one of transit centers.

“Holy crap, what’s that?”


Someone had used one of those module … things, and it was attracting Pokemon or something, I dunno, I have barely any idea what the fuck I’m doing. But I do know we parked the goddamn car at a public transit center I would not be using and walked down to the fucking MAX – passing two dudes talking about how they were taking over one of the gyms for the yellow team – and I caught another robber bird

and this little electric fucker

Then we steered toward home again, and I’m also not saying we took several detours including at a gym so we could claim it and were there until I got a call and ninety minutes had passed and Mina was ready and we still hadn’t made it the fifteen minutes to home yet, except that once again that is exactly what I’m saying.

When we made it back to PetsMart, someone had activated one of those module things at the pub, and as we were collecting the thing, someone drove by and yelled out the window “I CHALLENGE YOU!”

The world is just a little bit different today than it was a couple days ago, is my point.


Requested by anonymous

WARNING: blood, gore, swearing, explicit details


After the gun goes off, the violently loud noise echoing throughout the church, there is no noise at all. It is as if time stopped, and you, Dean, and the enemy were the only ones in reality. There was no sound of cars whatsoever, nor birds chirping or electricity running. Drop the smallest of pins, and one could hear it as loud as the gunshot itself. If one was quiet enough in the room, they could hear the blood rushing through your bodies. It was eerie and horrific, yet calm and peaceful at the same time.

You feel an odd tingling sensation in your hip, and then it hit you. As if punched in the face, you suddenly collapse, screaming in complete agony. Pain rushes through your body, the brain tightly secured in your skull only focused on your fresh, bloody bullet wound. You can almost feel the bullet still lodged in your pelvic bone, but you don’t care at the moment. You’re bleeding out, and you could die at any given moment. Your breathing becomes shaky and fast. Your chest is tight, as if multiple pairs of cold hands are squeezing your lungs, preventing you from breathing correctly. It doesn’t help that fear and panic are exploding throughout your mind. 

As if time is suddenly put back into reality, everything seems to go so fast. You’re screaming and crying, shaking violently. Blood covers your hands and clothes, even the floor. Dean Winchester is at your side immediately, panicking nearly as bad as you are. He grabs at your shoulders, your hands, your free hip. He’s breathing fast, but not as bad as you are. Your panic attack is getting worse and worse by the second, which, in return, isn’t helping your asthma. Your throat and lungs are burning severely as if they’re being scorched. Panic rises in your gut as Dean leaves your side, pulling out his gun with anger. He guns down the enemy, once, twice - a third time. Three smoking bullet holes lay in the woman’s chest. Dean fires three times more, and you jump every time the bullet is set free. He spits on her corpse, swearing violently. You assume he doesn’t have a plan to help you, because you didn’t come prepared. Both you phones were destroyed by the woman beforehand, before you two escaped from her ropes. 

“D-Dean!” You scream for your brother, wanting his comfort. You feel alone and abandoned, sitting there with your hands pressed against the open wound. It hurts more than anything you’ve ever experienced, the pain being indescribable as itself. You know for sure there’s broken bones, but you’ve no idea how many.

“I’m sure Sam is coming, Y/N,” he assures you, sitting on his knees next to you. He helps you lay down straight, your head resting on his lap. He tears off his plaid shirt under his jean jacket and presses it hard to your wound. It hurts even worse, now. You’re tearing your throat from screaming so loudly and intensely. 

You want Sam, you want Dean. You crave your brothers’ comfort, even though one of them is sitting with you. You feel like death could happen at any moment. You’re sure both you and Dean are expecting a reaper to show up when the doors to the church are opened so hard one of them falls off the hinges. You can’t look at whoever is there. The wound is getting worse. The panic and anxiety is getting worse. Cinder blocks are on your chest, holding you down and preventing you from escaping or getting up. Your hands are shaking near your face, the sight of blood sticking to them forcing you to cry harder and as loud as possible. 

Sam Winchester’s terrified, puppy dog face pops up overhead, and a sudden sense of relief washes over you as if the wound and pain went away. Sam has always been there to calm your anxiety, as he’s the one you’ve always been so close to. You both share similar histories, unlike you and Dean. However, you and your eldest brother share his love of greasy, unhealthy foods and muscle cars.

“It’s alright, Y/N. Everything is just fine,” Sam says after you’ve calmed down a bit. The urge to start crying again is strong from just hearing your brother’s relaxing voice. The tears start flowing as he takes Dean’s now bloodied shirt away and presses ice cold wipes around the wound to disinfect and clean the wound. After the wipes have been soaked with enough blood, Sam throws them aside and rushes to press clean rags to the wound, soaking them with even more blood.

“We can’t do this here,” Sam announces, sitting back and staring at the cleaned bullet hole in your hip.

“Why the hell not, Sam?! She’s fucking dying! And Cas, did you forget that you’re a goddamn angel?” Dean bellows, obvious anger in his voice.

You’re able to look around after relaxing your body a tad. You notice Castiel, your boyfriend, standing next to a squatted Sam, his face full of concern and worry. “Because, Dean,” he says. “It would just be better to bring her to the hospital. Yes, I’m fully aware that I am an angel, but I can’t fix this right now. We’re going to the hospital, end of story.” He walks away and pulls out his phone, presumably calling an ambulance.

You finally muster the strength to speak. It hurts a lot, but you need to ask them about your current condition, since this is the first time you’ve ever been shot. “Am I…Am I going t-to…die?” Your voice is quiet and raspy from yelling. You’re hiccuping silently from crying so much.

The boys look down at you. Sam comes closer to you, taking one of your bloodied hands in both of his. “I promise you, baby girl. You are not dying today. Cas is calling the hospital to come and get you, then you’ll be all patched up. You are going to be just fine, alright?”

You nod mindlessly, taking your brother’s words and pouring them over the anxiety and fear. When the ambulance arrives, both Dean and Sam assure you that they’ll be driving behind you, and that they’ll be right there with you at all times. Castiel is riding with you n the ambulance truck. Sam and Dean give you kisses on your forehead and smile brightly as you are lifted into the truck. 


The laws of nature are said to be written in the same language that birds sing their songs in. Mastery of this secret tongue has only been claimed by a handful of human beings over the centuries, and even they could neither speak it nor translate it, only understand it.

Over time, the natural sciences came to doubt the divinity of avian songs, and the endeavor to understand the language of the universe was passed on to mathematicians, for theirs was believed to be the most pure language available to mankind. Theirs was the study of space, and relationship, and number, concepts untainted by the grasp of matter. Even so, scholars found that mathematics could only describe the laws of nature, rather than truly express them. It was similar to the problem of how no clock could ever actually be more accurate than a sundial; mathematics could approach the truth indefinitely, yet could never actually become it.

Parallel in history to such workings, a handful of scholars continued their pursuit of a perfect avian language- and some among them even claimed to have succeeded in understanding it. In his book, appropriately titled Glossary of the Birds, nineteenth century theologian George Hollingway Brothers scrawled hundreds of pages of what appears to be sheet music. In place of notes, however, its staff is splattered with a mess of glyphs, and each line is flanked on its left-hand side by one of seventy-two elaborate, alien “clefs” that appear throughout.

“These clefs are the missing link between human and avian language,” he writes. “They are the impronounceable names of God, never truly uttered by the birds, but implicit in their patterns of speech. Every bird song implies the clef that it obeys through its melody, and in this manner, the birds themselves are able to invoke objective truth through song.”

Throughout his text, Brothers offers occasional approximations of birdsong in English, though he also argues that such things are “as meaningless as attempts to square the circle.” His guides to interpretation are nearly unintelligible, and include such vexing advice as “search for sharp angles in the call of the mourning dove,” or “listen to half of the owl at a time.” As the text progresses, it occasionally seems as though his ascetic studies have caused him to forget how to communicate with human beings altogether.

Towards the end of his book, however, Brothers offers a single, lucid passage: “I have learned things about the universe not known to man since the age of Hermes. I have learned the one-hundred fourty-four ways love can exist between two living things, and how rivers choose the paths they carve between landscapes, and how the covenants between predators and their prey are maintained to prevent extinction. I have no means of conveying these things in human tongues without demeaning them, so I shall refrain from doing so.

"I have, however, learned nothing of the mechanical laws of the universe. Having come to understand the holy tongue, I am certain that there is no better vessel to express them with, though I have never heard such things spoken of once. The birds are extraordinarily wise, in ways that human thought can only approximate, but if they have expressions for these forces, I have never once heard them uttered. Because they certainly possess the necessary wisdom, I must conclude that they do not care. And why would they? Matters like gravity do not concern them in the same manner that they concern us. They have no desire to seize control of the forces of the world, and in this lies their greatest wisdom of all.”

The status of mathematics as a universal language is left as an exercise to the reader.

Birds that mimic their surroundings have the most complex language of all.

Birds may use their songs as encryption- there is biological precedent for this.

North of Reality is an explorable fiction space written by Uel Aramchek. You can receive these pieces overnight via email by signing up here. This is entry #244. Learn how you can receive secret stories via physical mail here.

But at the same time, another thought came to me. This could not go on forever. One morning, I would wake up and the pain would have disappeared— suddenly, with no explanation— and a whole new peaceful life without pain would open up for me. It was not a thought in which I could place a great deal of faith, however.
—  Haruki Murakami, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle

James 3:1-12 (NLT)
Dear brothers and sisters, not many of you should become teachers in the church, for we who teach will be judged more strictly. Indeed, we all make many mistakes. For if we could control our tongues, we would be perfect and could also control ourselves in every other way.

We can make a large horse go wherever we want by means of a small bit in its mouth. And a small rudder makes a huge ship turn wherever the pilot chooses to go, even though the winds are strong. In the same way, the tongue is a small thing that makes grand speeches.

But a tiny spark can set a great forest on fire. And the tongue is a flame of fire. It is a whole world of wickedness, corrupting your entire body. It can set your whole life on fire, for it is set on fire by hell itself.

People can tame all kinds of animals, birds, reptiles, and fish, but no one can tame the tongue. It is restless and evil, full of deadly poison. Sometimes it praises our Lord and Father, and sometimes it curses those who have been made in the image of God. And so blessing and cursing come pouring out of the same mouth. Surely, my brothers and sisters, this is not right! Does a spring of water bubble out with both fresh water and bitter water? Does a fig tree produce olives, or a grapevine produce figs? No, and you can’t draw fresh water from a salty spring.

Nyctosaurus sebulbai by Jaime A. Headden:

No, this isn’t a real animal.

Nyctosaurids are pterosaurs with incredibly long arms, but comparatively short feet. Darren Naish once speculated ([link]) that pterosaurs could attain flightless status in much the same ways as birds do, with reduction of the forelimbs and wing form, developing elongated hindlimbs in azhdarchid-like taxa and thus become giraffe or horse-like “quadrupedasaurs.” I wonder if the selection on the wings for form are so intensive this could ever happen. Indeed, it seems that it would be the feet first to go, the wings second, if ever. What if, instead, we got pterosaurs who walked with their wings, freeing their feet from locomotion?

(read more)

I was going to write a letter for you, but I wouldn’t know where to send it. Your heart in a different home each night. I needed to write something for you, but I had doubts about what you wanted. Your soul stretched with their fingertips. As you’re pulled apart, the carpet burns are a reminder of how I could do the same. That’s how I’m seen in your eyes, right? If I could rip pieces of my favorite color and placed them near you; I bet your heart could beat again. You can’t see yourself without a need for a bath. Stained and dirty; thoughts of not being worth my time. Life started with dirt. Without a foundation, we are the bones of birds; hollow and cracking with every interaction that we didn’t plan to have today. Do you think some people were meant to show affection and then disappear? Failed relationships, one after the other, that’s how you found my poetry. I know, I’m just another poet. I’m just like him and you’re just like her. I know, I’m another reminder of sad things to come, but… hey. If I showed you the forgotten shades of clear water in your thoughts, could you feel clean again? How about your smile? I didn’t tell you this, but the sad girl is your pull. Can people with sadness in their laughter and love as a push become magnetized? I’ve mentioned that we are the same. Our regrets keep us awake at night. Our destructive nature makes the mornings exhausting. Our love for love smells like roses, but how we are the thorns and not the petals. We’re rolling around the bed and shuffling the blanket in search for them, but can’t you see? The fire in their lighters still sparks your charm. The water in their tears still flows into my eyes. The wind near their feet as they walked away, keeps us moving. The down to earth poetry that we write, keeps this natural. Whatever this is–
—  Please, stay for awhile. // k.c.

I have a story for you all. You see, where I grew up, lyrebirds were a common sight. To my knowledge, this video was actually filmed in the same area.
Now, my uncle lived in a house nearby that was surrounded by bush land.
One day, some builders who were working on a nearby property came to my uncle’s house. They were terribly distressed because they kept hearing the sound of a human baby crying in the bush. When they had searched for this mystery baby, they could find no trace of it.  
Well, my uncle knew the area better than they did, so he went out with them to have a look.
Sure enough, he could hear the baby’s cries as well, but my uncle soon noticed that there were other sounds coming from the same direction; other suspiciously bird-like sounds.

It was a fucking lyrebird.

This troll of a bird had all of these builders in a panic because it had learned to mimic a baby’s cries.

Mutual Hatred

There is no bond like the one forged through mutual hatred of the same thing. 

Aka, in which Tsuna voluntarily leads a vigilante group

Early in Tsuna’s childhood, around the start of Hibari’s reign of fear, a new pecking order was established in Namimori. A powerful yakuza group moved into the area and took over. It became an oppression of the people, and everyone lived in fear. Hibari was beaten up and more or less lost his will to fight, becoming a caged bird. Even Yamamoto stopped playing baseball, for children should not stay out when the yakuza make their patrols in case they were in a bad mood. 

One day, they hurt Tsuna’s mother. One day, he had enough. 

Keep reading


Today is a very special day. It is the day when a beautiful angel came to earth. The most amazing woman, beautiful, and perfect that could exist. The most sweet human being. I could spend hours trying to describe how incredible she is. But no words would be able to describe it. She can be everything at the same time. In fact… she is everything.

            Happy Birthday

Rachel Alice Marie Skarsten. ♡


It isn’t time that we need fear
so let us remove its teeth
Time is an enemy advancing
only as swiftly as it retreats
and this story began the same as the rest:
a wish against history
Here, I could stitch you together again
Here, you might need me
Martyred moments became magic
to forsake those unmade yet
and you and I sought only a place
to be forgotten and forget
But what is a lily to an ocean?
A soft breeze to a bird?
When the lights have gone out,
who then will comfort
this child crying out to be heard?
And the battle for our mortal souls
was fought not with blade nor blame
but hope that they could meet our eyes,
these people we became;
those who returned no different
yet not at all the same

Whatever comes afterwards (Complete)

The tension with her sister was not decreasing and confronting the court had become more and more difficult. To make things worse, Talon could not be found anywhere, probably busy with other birds to feed. Each convocation meant another excuse for not coming, disease, urgent job or anything else that could keep her away from these vultures.

But there was a last option left to get the face off water at last.

One more try…

The Crux of Valor in between her guilty fingers, she reminded these words coming from the last letter while staring at the foggy sky of Noxus. “Why you had to born Noxian and I Demacian ?” A meanful question that did not sound right. The simple fact to ask it did not make any sense. However, Katarina tried to figure out what made of this secret a crime. Garen Crownguard was the smartest man she ever dealt with, the only problem being the leadership he had dedicated his life to. But this was the same for her: she was living for a creed he was supposed to despise… So why her refusal that summoned the most logical way to proceed in this situation shook him this way? Could he…really be touched by something that had no reason to be?

More questions were coming now that the whole truth was uncovered. But no answer would be satisfying, only this pain itching her insides would remain. “What’s wrong with me…?” She asked herself gazing to her desk where she had displayed a sheet of paper, ink and feather. She oddly desired to write to him again. His words seemed to know how to soften her torments… His promises how to make her hope… His presence how to feel–

She shook her head and held her painful forehead, searching for a good way to introduce the letter.

She brought the letter herself to the gates of Noxus and gave it to a trustworthy messenger who owed her one. Then she returned to the mansion, the burden on her chest crumbling off as she walked.

It has been a sleepless night, and the old whiskey didn’t help at all to ease his lack of sleep, Garen moved on his bed every now and then, looking for a fitting position to rest, but none helped him sleep, nor forget, thorn in between loyalty and a fool’s love, he remained in bed, ready for another night without rest.

It was around 4:00 am when a knock on his door called his attention, he raised and sat on the bed “Yes?” he inquired, it was odd that somebody called at his door at this hour, so odd that it may even made him search for the combat knife below his pillow “Master Garen, a messenger delivered something for you, shady folk he was…” Garen was about to tell his butler to give him the message in the morning, but the mention of the messenger shadyness changed his mind, only one person used that “type” of messengers to contact him.

Hastily he raised and opened the door taking the letter from his servant “Will that be all for the night master?” the man asked as Garen read the letter “Yes, thank you” he said, after the man left, he closed the door and read the letter, he wasn’t sure what to expect, and neither what to do with the letter after reading it, she basically didn’t want anything with him besides what was necessary to uncover the plot in the shadows, of course he felt his heart ache, but he needed to soak it up, he wasn’t a boy, he was a man, a soldier, his country needed this service and he knew that the common good was above his own shattered feelings, he took the letter, looked at it in for a few more moments, then opened the windows and looked outside “That’s how it is Crownguard, she is a Noxian and you a Demacian, you were a fool to let yourself fall for her…” he sighed, his fist closed, crushing the sides of the letter “But there is a job to be done, I must endure this feelings, put them down and do what I must”

The candle light began flickering as the letter was put near, the paper began burning, erasing the evidence that may compromise her “She will be safer this way… and well… at least she liked the presents” the letter burned bright for a moment, and then died, seemed his love was destined to be the same…

He tough about burning the rest, but he refused to, something inside of him keep clinging to the fool’s hope of loving a noxian woman “I’ll burn them when Iater I need to rest” he said, placing a excuse he could believe…

Another lie he was telling himself… now it was just a matter of waiting for the day…

On the day of the meeting, Katarina had made sure nobody would recognize her: a hood hiding her face -and her so famous scar-  while a long cape was taking care of wrapping the rest of her slender figure. She was sitting in a corner from the very dawn of the day, biting her nails and rubbing her wrist with an obvious nervosity.

She feared the moment the warrior would step in. Her letter was was harsher than what was dwelling inside, but she could not show something else than what she was convinced to be. Telling the truth was impossible … because the truth she ignored yet. Her eyes were travelling from a side to another, mocking the wanderers and other demacian tramps who came to sink into a huge glass of booze.

Her own drink stayed filled all this time. She wanted her thoughts to be clear when she would have to confront these eyes she left in panic the last time. But no more running. All the things coming ahead were stronger than them, bigger than any stupid interior conflict… And she needed the demacian to untie these knots. For that, and just for that…

The inn was nothing worthy of describing, it was a mere inn of the outskirts, not so big, merry and the most important, discrete. Nobody cared why people where here, most assumed it was just for the sake a of a good drink and rest from the road.

A bukly hooded figure entered through the gates, his face covered, the only feature that could be seen was his chin, not shaved for a few days, a cape covered his right side, on the other side a pauldron held the cape back, revealing the man was armed with a massive sword hanging from his belt, besides the side, the sword was nothing special, Garen was no fool, he wouldn’t carry his usual sword to a secret meeting, nor his regular clothing, even the lack of shaving was on purpose, contrary at was he, and any Demacian was used to, besides the gallant aura that always surrounded him, something that he couldn’t hide nobody could tell this man was Garen Crownguard, nor that anybody would notice… or perharps someone could…

His sure steps took him to the counter, where he asked for a whisky, without removing his hood, looking around for threats and a certain someone, the bartander gave him his drink and he paid quickly, taking the glass, he drank it in full and left the glass back on the counter after his eyes finally set on a figure that was much like him, but shorter and more slender, a slight smile curved his lips, thinking on what was below the cape, but he shacked off the though, remembering why he was here, he walked towards her, casually, not drawing any attention to him he stood in front of the table

“May I?” he inquired to the lady sitting on the corner, if it was the person he was looking for, his gentlenmanly voice will be easily recgonized

Katarina quickly eyed up to make sure this stranger talking to her with this voice she knew by heart was Garen Crownguard and gazed down as she replied: “Just sit already…”. Her tone was a little bitter but her face was hardly trying to hide the torments she had been through. She was not as confident as the previous times they met. Now, she was afraid to meet his gaze, to betray these hours, these days she spent in the dark trying to chase these sinful pictures from her mind.

She gulped right before asking: “Thanks for coming here. I hope you’ve honored my requests and came alone by foot”

“I have never rejected one of your request, and I will not start now, I have come alone, on foot and…” he replied omitting the last part, even tough his voice sounded neutral there was a very slight hint that it was a fake, he was too fighting to keep his feelings in check, trying with all his hearth to be just a soldier, leaving the man beside, the way she moved her mouth to speak, her tone, something told him there was something wrong with her, but he couldn’t tell what it was or if it had to do with the reason that brought them here

“What’s wrong?” he asked bluntly, knowing well she wouldn’t call a meeting for trivialities

Tired of being asking this same question everythime, Katarina frowned and repeated: “Sit already!”. She crossed her arms on the table and lowered the head to hide her face from sight. His presence obviously made her nervous and maybe she was also trying to conceal her frightened eyes.

“You know what’s wrong. You perfectly know. And you have no idea how many times this question came back in the mouth of other noxians…” He really made of her dailylife an hell without calling for it. But she was upset and this could be felt in her tone, slighty shaking.

He sat as she requested at the opposite side of the table from her, silently, not saying anything until she finished, she was angry, at something, because of something, because of a person, because of him?, he couldn’t be sure, because of what happened? maybe… did she made her nervous? was that… yes it was not clear she was avoiding looking at him but why? this intrigued him

He remembered again to not discuss what happened between them, but he couldn’t erase from his mind the idea that the she was nervous because of it “You are too altered…” he said, and even neutral, his voice sounded worried “Its because of…” he wanted to ask, he wanted know, for a moment the hood retracted a litle as he closed a bit, leaning on the table, his face showed, his blue eyes showed true concern, but just as inmediately, he leaned back, his face became covered in the shadow of the hood again, restraining himself, chaining his feelings “your security? did Swain find something about your cooperation to us?” he said, his voice lowered, almost a whisper, just for the two to hear, yet the same hint of concern could be detected

Katarina bit her finger and rose her eyes at last. “Yes. He mentionned your name and asked a lot of questions about my journey to Demacia. Of course I haven’t said everything… but even before that, he had plans for my family. He visited my sister while I was away, and brought his old bitch with him”. She chased a flock of hair from her face and precised “Leblanc” in the case he would not have understood.

“They’re trying to blow pressure on our shoulders, now more than before. Maybe Swain is already aware of our cooperation and I admit that sometimes…” She sighed, ashamed of what she was about to say. “I just wanna give in. I’m tired of fighting forces that cannot be named… Everything would be so simple if everyone stayed to its right place”. Her face showed renouncement due to sleepless nights. She was different from the other times they met, driven to the depths of her own courage.

“I’m not hearing the woman I know talking” he said, he couldn’t bare to hear her talking about defeat, she was not like that, that wasn’t the woman he loved but couldn’t express it to her, yet he understood that the one with the pressure on was her, she was the one closest to the frontlines, he cursed not been able to be there as well, gladly he would have put Swain on its place, back in a perch in hell, preferably impaled on it

“Talking about defeat doesn’t suit you, you are the kind of woman who yields, the prideful daughter of Marcus Du’Couteau yielding before Jericho Swain? no, I don’t think that’s going to happen you wouldn’t allow it, Katarina Du’Couteau yields to no one” his hand remained on the table, he wanted to take hers, assure her everything was going to be ok, but how could he? “I know you are tired, but he is pressing you because he is afraid of you, he knows you are the only one who can challenges him, he fears that, I know for sure, we are nearing the end, but it will be his, not yours, not mine”

“I know right but how am I supposed to…!” Her tone raised a little and she stopped as soon as she realised people around could listen to them now. “Let’s get move out” She suggested as she raised up, throwing a couple of gold coins in front of her filled glass. She headed outside with Garen following her and, as soon as the cold breeze stroked her hair, she felt released of a part of the tension.

They walked a little further and stopped by an old empty stable before she started speaking, back turned on him. “Listen, if I’ve asked you to come here, it’s because I want to get freed from all the promises that could have been made before. No arrangement shall be made between two enemies like we are. ” She could barely formulate it, too afraid to lose her only support. “Things are different now. My family is involved in the scheme and I refuse to compromise my name in any way.” She sighed and finally uncovered her face, removing the hood to show the brightness of her worried eyes. “Call me a coward if you want, but they shall not pay for my mistakes…”

Garen walked right behind her, not saying anything, she was about to compromise their secrecy, so he judged wise to leave the inn, nobody was around, they were alone for the moment, he made sure nobody followed, to an veteran like him noticing when followed was easy, he just needed to observe bit, discenr pattenrs, analyze…

They stopped at a stable, she began speaking, again of giving up, she was troubled, concerned, worried, almost breaking, he couldn’t stand see her like this, before he stepped on that inn tonight, he was ready to act cold, be a solid rock, not show his feelings, but all that cracked down seen her so shaken, he wanted to take her in his arms, save her from the ravens circling her, but he couldn’t, but neither he could abandon her.

“You are not the one making the mistakes I did… ” he started, not sure if part of what he did helped to shake her resolve “Swain will not stop… you know it, he won’t let you be, he sees you as a threat I can tell you that much he won’t stop until…” he paused, unwilling to say what was obvious “Either he kills you or we stop him”

His fist tightened, he looked away from her, hidden under the hood “And I’ll be dead before I let him do it…” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper

“So be it!” She answered with a hint of anger in the voice, her face suddenly twisted by a raging look. With a wide motion of the arm, she slapped the air with strength and went ahead:

“You’ve always seen me like an invincible warrior, like the only one able to take you down! Your letters showed me how blind you were all these years, the way you see me… is completely wrong!” She could perfectly remember these precious words he used talking about her. These feelings he had for her… she never wanted to trigger them. But they were the cause of something. “I’m not like this, I’m not that strong…!! I’m not…”

She lowered the face, her anger fading progressivly as a strange heat rose into her throat. She muffled a whimper as she asked, her eyes filled with sorrow: “Am I…?”

Noxus. The empire of Strength. The realm of self-fulfilled warriors. Her father who had fought for years in the name of this ideal would be so ashamed of his daughter right now, prey of doubt, cofnessing her fear to this demacian… Showing vulnerability was like getting naked in front of the enemy, asking to be sliced in two. But what she was calling was help, like a silent cry coming from the depths of her heart. She kept her eyes away from his, her face lowered to the ground as she whispered once again:

“Am I…?”

He could not stand it, what made her fall down like this? what make her break like this? where was that fiery passionate assasin he knew? was this really Katarina Du’Couteau? or was this simply a side she never showed?. either way he could not take it…

He didn’t know how, he didn’t knew when, how it happened, but his arms reached for her and pulled her to him, his hood lowered from the motion of the embrace and she could see his face in pain for her, he was suffering her own suffering, Garen held her close, trying to make her feel safe “You are” he answered her question, trying to assure her that her strenght was still there.

“You can fear, fear is not weakness, fear is a test, a test to overcome, you can be affraid, you can cry, you can fail, you can fall, but never, ever doubt yourself” he keep her on his arms

“I don’t, and you shouldn’t either”

She blinked as she felt his arms reaching for her body and his chest pressing against her head. She wanted to say something, to react in the name of the good common sense… But there was something in this simple embrace, irresistibly attractive, just like the rope thrown to someone trapped in a well. Her breathe turned steady and she closed her eyes, feeling oddly good in the enemy’s arms, safier than between the walls of her own house.

She could not remember the last time she felt this peaceful… These were the arms  of someone else, someone she could confess she “had loved”, someone who missed to her heart now.Her father…

But the words were the same. Calling for her to rise again, not letting the shadows surround her doubtful soul. He had faith in her…

She abandonned herself to this calm moment, accepting this help and this shameful closeness of their two bodies. She released a sigh of exhaustion but stayed idle without a sound for a long while before she finally whispered:

“Why can’t I get off these feelings…?”

“Feelings?” the questions wondered on his head, he was confused, what feelings she was talking about, wasn’t she the one who said she had no feelings?, didn’t she asked him to not speak of what has happened and the feelings he was supposed to not have?, his mind was stranged, but it matters little, his main focus now was been her support, maybe her only support right now

“We may be strong… but we are not superhumans… we are still humans, feelings is part of what we are, not matter how deep we push them, they will come up…” that remined him so much of what happened in the park, he pushed his feelings so deep, so hard that they came up abruptly, making act as he did “Much like us, we always raise, we always come up, no matter how hard or deep they try to drown us”

Feeling her so close made Garen feel as if he was somewhere beyond reckoning, this was blatant treason to Demacia, but right now he didn’t care, tonight she needed him more than Demacia did…

“You are not alone, you will never be as long as I breathe… I promised you that if needs be I’ll stand by your side and I’m a man who never fails a promise”

She had not reckoed on such a turn of events. This man she ran from, travelling across all Valoran to fly the further she could, was now she only thing she could hold on to.

“I’m not used to leave others… being the patrons of my fate” She rose her chin to finally confront the demacian’s eyes, her nerves eased and her fury softened by some magic she could not explain. “So if you make this promise, you shall not step back… because I…” She swallowed saliva, picky in her choice of words. “I  want to believe in this… to believe in…” She interrupted her sentence, her gaze lost in his for a moment.

His hand reached for her face, ina  gesture he couldn’t stop, not explain, careesing her cheek gently, not sure on what she wanted to say, or perharps reading it on her eyes, or who knows what, something called him, her voice, what she wanted to believe in? he needed to know, but his mind went blanc, completely devoid of toughs or reason, he mouth opened, he didn’t know why, he pulled her closer and closer, she was so fragile right, he wanted to much to protect her, how could he not love her?

“Allow yourself to believe…I do” he said before he pulled her to him, again kissing her, not able to restrain himself, but ending the kiss quickly, gaining control of his emotions, but still not letting her go, knowing he probably screwed it again, but this time he didn’t apologize, he waited for her reaction, if she was going to be blunt and a fury to him again he was going to brave the storm to hell with everything, she was going to stand by her, not matter what, and he loved her, he couldn’t deny it anymore “I believe, and if what I feel doesn’t prove that I will never abandon you, i don’t know what will”

This quick kiss had a different taste than before. In fact, it has nothing of what she knew. She lowered the head and touched her lips with the tip of her fingers. Her eyes were questionning the void, lost in confusion. But the good sense of logic could not find a satistfying exit to her wonder. And when she rose her eyes up again, she finally got struck by this simple statement: maybe she was not listening to the good one.

A violent heat took over her chest and was slowly consuming her insides. As painful as sudden, Katarina felt like a part of her beliefs have been blown out by one stranger wind, wild and warm, stroking her senses instead of destroying them.

Without even realizing it, she was wrapping her arms aroung Garen’s neck and joined their lips once again. These voices in her mind, she was not listening anymore. Her body was talking instead, her lips gently tasting Garen’s while her arms kept his head trapped close to her.

This felt alright…. Oddly….alright.

She wished she could be thunderstruck and die in the next second to atone for her sins. But as long as nobody knew, they could make this moment last, a short and reckless moment of selfishness. No more factions, no more enemies. Like a cry for mercy into the dark fog of hatred and prejudices. Just the both of them and nothing else mattered.

Garen was expecting everything except that, he expected a furious woman wanting to tear him apart, expected a dagger on the neck, not threatening but slicing his flesh, he even expected a bite or something violent, but none of that came, she in her full sincerity embraced him and responded with another kiss for moments that seemed eternal, Noxus and Demacia ceased to exist

For the moments the kiss lasted Garen felt from confusion to guilt, passing through pleasure happiness and many other things he couldn’t tell on that moment, but he was sure about something, he desired for her response more than anything.

His arms surrounded her and pulled her to him, lifting her from the ground without breaking the kiss, holding her frame so close it was almost pleasently intoxicating, a sinful embrace, but for as long as it lasted, for as long as nobody knew…

He could enjoy it.

She was losing herself for too long now and soon her natural insctint knocked back like a rocket. She let out a sigh of surprise and broke the kiss suddendly, like if she got struck by an electric discharge. She looked around, making sure nobody was watching. Then, she pulled herself out from Garen’s arms almost relunctanly, keeping her gaze low.

“It makes no sense…”

But instead of running for this irrational situation, she leaned her forehead against his armored chest and closed her eyes before letting out a deep sigh. Maybe there was no question to ask, nothing to be explained… This was totally out of control, just like a curse some prankish gods would have cast on them. But what is a good thing? A bad thing…?

This felt so weird. The saliva left on her lips was burning like fresh ashes. The blossoming heat was deadening her brain more and more until she could not feel the things around anymore. She hated herself and she hated the circumstances, all the words and gazes that led to this moment. But she embraced this sin, she sinfully embraced it like if nothing was important anymore.

Katarina clenched her teeth and fists, shaken by this pressure that was so suddendly falling on her.

“I hate you…”

Her head on his chest brought him feelings he could not fully grasp, by all means he should have taken her from the shoulders and push her away, but he couldn’t, because he did understand part of those feelings, feeling he had harbored for the past few weeks, feelings that made him drink every night, that keep him awake thinking on her safety, from all the womans on the world he had to choose the noxian, yes, his father would be proud… he was just trashing the entire reputation of his family in one single action, yet it mattered?…

One of his mighty hands fondled her crimson hair “You should…” he said to her “And by all means I should too…” he continued, his gaze now looking at the clouded skies above “But for some reason… I can’t, not anymore, I can’t bare to hate you anymore…”

Decades of life shaken on a single moment, it was not as if he had stopped been a Demacian, which would have been convenient, but no, he was still a Demacian, he still believed on the same creed  which was taught by his father, the same creed that he embraced in the army, the same creed he defended, the same righteousness, he was still a paragon of his people, but… a paragon with a flaw now.

His hand was like a caress in her hair. She enjoyed it, shamefully enjoyed it…  This was the kind of simple but  precious gesture of affection her father used with her. She blinked softly and stepped back, keeping her head lowered as she broke the embrace. “My life used to be well-balanced… I knew my purpose, I knew what I lived for but now…” She raised her eyes up as if she questionned the heavens. “Everything is so fucked up”.

She turned back and placed the hood on her head again, covering her face and the embarasment that was born on it. “I need time to think…”

His hands reached for her shoulders, gently stopping her for a minute “Would it be too bold on my part…” he started, his voice trembling a bit as the rain began to pour down on them “To stay for a bit longer?” he didn’t knew why he asked for sure, perharps he was worried of her going alone now that she was in danger, or in her current state, her mind unclear or maybe he simply didn’t want to let her go…

“I know everything seems so upside down that it looks like another world… but maybe we can sort this out… the both of us…” he paused, the water of the rain fell down “We do work well together… remember the desert?” he tried to smile a bit “But… if you want to be alone I will respect it your wishes…” even tough he said that he didn’t let go of her shoulders, if his hands could give away his feelings, it will gilve a clear message…

Please stay…

She didn’t want to go and return into the nothingness of her bedroom. The League had become a despicable destination and times were hard for assassins; everyone seemed happy without ordering his neighbour’s death. Garen’s hand on her shoulder seemed to be the last thing she could hold on to, but…could she ?

“I don’t know… What are we supposed to do now? We have no clue, nothing to start with… And worse, if somebody sees us together here…” She did not end her sentence, caught back by nervousness. She sighed, helplessly.

“Neither do I…” he responded, as her, lost on what they should do “But I do know you don’t want to go home now… and I don’t want to either” he only wanted to stay around her, to keep her safe, he knew she needed him, even if she was too prideful to admit it, but he could tell it

“We could hide somewhere… anywhere, remain hidden for a while and think, clear our minds and find out what to do”

Katarina curved a mocking smirk, half irritated and half amused by Garen’s comment. “To hide like criminals? Maybe I don’t want to go home but this is where I belong and I’ll have to confront my fate one day or another”.

She stepped forwards and rose her eyes to the rainy sky, water pouring on her forehead and running through her hair. She shivered and rubbed her arm. This would not be wise to travel back now. But staying in this inn was  not a good idea either. “If I stay with you, this won’t help my mind getting clearer…” She confessed in a whisper.

“I guess you are right, in both things” he said sighing and pulling the hood of his cloak back to its place, covering himself on the rain “However, are you ready to face that fate, whatever that may be?” he inquired, having the feeling she wasn’t ready yet, she was more than capable he was sure of that, but prepared? he wasn’t sure…

A half smile came up his face, slightly mocking “Of all the effects I could possibly have on you, never though that could be one… suggestions then? It wouldn’t be wise for you to go back like this, you are going into the crows nest” 

“It doesn’t matter” She replied honestly. “Noxus is still my hometown and if I have to fall…” She paused, her lips barely moving as she tried to find the sweeter way to say it. “Then I’ll fall. And as a demacian, there’s nothing you can do against this…”.

She cruelly gazed away and started walking away. She stopped several steps away and waited a little while before saying goodbye: “Until…next time.” Saying these words washarder than she thought. But once this was said, she walked off, not turning back.

Garen raised his hand, wanting to catch her and don’t let her go, but she went away, and her words made him refrain from the idea “Nothing I can do…” he admired her bravery, but not her recklessness, he wanted to follow, to be there, but he knew well this could be very well out of his reach “Stay safe…” he replied to her goodbye, hoping, really hoping and praying there would be a next time…

He remained there for minutes that seemed eternal, soaking in the rain as he watched the woman he loved walk away to what could be her doom “I love you…” he whispered, but she couldn’t hear it, he couldn’t muster the strenght to said in front of her and probably he would never have the chance again…

Feeling defeat on his bones, after she walked away and her silhoutte disappeared on the rain he walked back to the inn, despite his mighty presence, his steps seemed more of a defeated man than what he really was, yet he didn’t look lest mighty nor menacing, once he got on the inn he rented a room  and walked upstairs, not calling the attention as much as he could, he wanted to be just a shadow for now, a nobody in a place forgotten by the world.

Inside the room, he removed the cloak and wet clothes for them to dry and throwed himself in bed he needed to clear his mind, erase things, search for a way… but mostly he needed to forget

The cold wind started blowing in the dark room where Garen was supposed to sleep. Silently, Katarina closed the window behind her, the tempest shut down again as the silence came back. She stood there in front of the window, her silhouette drawn on the frame of dying light coming from outside. She was silent, wondering what she was doing her and too afraid too step closer, her eyes shinning like two precious stones.

Garen remained in bed, he wasn’t sleep, his sleep derpivation was even worse tonight, he could sense the window opening, it was hard not to feel the cold air when the only thing covering yourself is a blanket, but he didn’t move, he wasn’t sure who was the person entering, so instead he prepared for anything, except what he saw on the window…

He was going to raise and take the sword resting on the side of the bed, but as soon as he got his eyes on the silhuote against the window he dropped that idea, he opened his mouth in awe, not sure what she was doing here

“Katarina…” was all that he could say, even forgeting to hold the blanket covering him…

Katarina walked to the bed, her clothes and hair soaked by the rain, and slowly, she leaned onto Garen’s body, her lips drawing to his just like a butterfly appealed by honey. She motionned him to stay quiet with a finger in front of his mouth, scolding “schhh…” before giving him a delicate kiss, a hand on his naked shoulder. Time seemed to have stopped in between these walls, in this dirty room far from Demacia and Noxus. Was they supposed to be here? Were not the horns of war howling outside? They did not care. For a few seconds, the world had stopped existing.

When they broke the kiss, she spent a long time staring at his eyes in silence, her lips half-closed, not a single word in mind. She had no idea what she was doing here and why she came back after leaving him under the rain. But she was attracted to this man for some reason, like a warm nest she could feel safe into. The simple sound of his steady breathe gave her chills as she waited for a word from him.

The words “naked before the enemy” took quite a new  meaning for Garen at this moment, yet as soon as her lips touched his, the feeling went away, he recieved the kiss eagerly, just like a child waiting for the morning after christmas, he enjoyed the kiss while it lasted, regreting a bit as it ended.

Their eyes met, blue against emerald, just as she he was confused yet, his smile showed something else, he was happy to see her, his hand reached for her cheek, the side holding her scar, touching her gently “You didn’t go… am I not dreaming?” he asked, his voice soft while he careesed the face of the redhead in front of him, nothing mattered now, just him and her, he was so absorted, so enthralled he didn’t care to cover himself

He wished to know why she came back, he wanted to know, but he was afraid to ask, he didn’t even wanted to say anything, he feared she was an ilussion, a dream, he feared a mere whisper will blow away the beautiful woman before her, but he could touch her, she was real, so real…

Then he realized her clothes, wet, her hair soaked in water, he placed the blanket around her shoulders and embraced her again “I’m glad you decided to stay…” his lips kissed her forehead, then came down to her lips and stayed there a moment “You must be freezing…” he said moving his arms up and down on her shoulders trying to warm her up

Her lips were trembling but not the the reasons he mentionned. His words were so tender… Even now, even if many others would have jumped on her like an animal, he was just worried about her sake. She lowered the head and closed the eyes, something strange rising in her throat, like…sorrow.

“Why are you always like this with me…?” She whimpered, her natural confident voice reaching an adorable high-pitched tone a few humans ever heard coming from the Sinister Blade.

She swallowed saliva, trying to calm down. But she felt something strange tickling her cheek and meeting Garen’s hand. she blinked and  touched her face with two fingers, freezing herself of confusion. Tears…? She could not remember the last time she had cried. Years before probably… But why ? She felt helpless, just like a child enslaved by his own ignorance. She made a rough move backwards, hiding her face with her hands to hide her embarassment. “D-don’t look at me!”

As she withdrew he gave her a moment, and then smiled and moved to her, she was within hand reach anyway, his hand now touched her chin and gently raised her face, then he wiped her tears away with a soft touch no one could believe such hands could give “You don’t need to hide from me…” he said to her, tried to assure Katarina it was alright, that he will never betray what he was seen, to him discovering this side of her glorified her even more on his eyes

“Why wouldn’t I?” he replied with a question  "I… began to…" he didn’t want to say the words still fearing the way she reacted before, still gathered enough guts to keep talking “I have grown to care about you, more than I ever imagined, I still think the same about you, I respect you the same as I did the first day we met” He made a little pause to give her a kiss on her forehead “But with the time we passed together, I have learned many new things about you, things that made feel what I feel, I learned that, even the strongest need somebody who they can trust, somebody they can lean on…and for this feeling I have for you I’m want to be that man for you…”

“How should I treat you then? I can’t think of a diferent way to touch you, to treat you, after I discovered that how precious you became to me…”

“Heh…” Katarina shrugged, keeping her gaze away from him though he had control on her moves with these huge hands around her. “Are demacian all like you?” She asked with a new mocking tone. “Introducing themselves as naked as a worm and saying how much they enjoyed knowing more about a girl thanks to the time they has spent together”. She turned off and walked a little into the room, leaving a trail of water beneath.

“But do you… desire me?” She was earning more and more self-confidence, her inner taste for dangerous games coming back  running. She pulled off her jacket and released it on the ground, her back still turned. Then she dropped her top covering her chest and presented the entire line of her spine to the demacian. Her body was soaked underneath and the bright moon was shinning on her pale skin.

"So? Aren’t you done with words or is there a man inside?” She gazed to him over her shoulder, caressing her own shoulder with an appealing gesture. No man naturally gifted would have rejected such a call.


Garen eyes remained on her silhoutte, he passed saliva, anticipating the moment, a momenth that he will be lying if he said it didn’t happen on his dreams, he wasn’t sure what was going on, his Demacian nature told him to stop, to leave, that this was forbidden, but then again that voices were silenced by the man speaking of how much he longed for her, that perfect skin, that curvy silhoutte of a goddess, no this time he couldn’t resist.

He raised and walked to her, completely naked, he embraced her from behind, his hands went for her waist as he kissed her neck “I can’t lie… I desire you, more than you can imagine” He gently turned her around, he wanted to face her, to see her eyes “But I don’t want you just for a night… I want you with me… always ” he said, touching her skin gently, his hand coming up to caress her breasth as his lips kissed hers with passion

“You’re…never out of words, right?” She teased with a chuckle, trying to muffle her doubts with impertinence. But she stopped his hand with hers with a rough move, her eyes giving the tone of her desires. “Do you realise where this is going?” she asked  in a  whisper as their lips joined and broke apart.

A great need was raising in her chest, a crazy howl of kinkiness that she had shut down for too long. But until now, these voices were easy to ignore. Serving Noxus was enough for her living. But what now? Why these lustful demons were returning now, making of the proud noxian soldier the whore of some demacian pig? She closed her eyes, trying to forget about these truths and only focusing on his words.

I want you with me… always.

“You know…. this can’t be. We’re just sinners” she said as her hands trailed along his waist, enjoying any curve of his muscles and any scar her fingers could meet.

For the first time since they met, he didn’t feel the urgent need to take her hands off him, before those hands would be looking for places to bury a dagger, but now, they careesed the same spots she hurt before, most of those scars on his body where caused by her, but that didn’t matter now…

“I know…” he responded as his own hands runned down her waist “But I wouldn’t be a sinner with anybody else…” his mind was crowded with thoughts, her essence filled his senses, dulling any reason, any logic, the cries of his Demacian nature remained hushed by the feelings, lust and passions she commanded on him, his mighty arms pulled her to him, and he raised her from the floor, kissing her lips as he held her, her breast on his chest, his lips went down her neck and then teased her skin by going slightly lower, then he stopped and looked at her eyes

“Tell me… if today was your last day, would you stop what we started her and keep going and see what happens until we can?… I for once don’t want it to stop”

“Fool” She replied with a strange smile, a chill fading in her spine as his lips quitted her neck. She stared at him right in the eyes and replied with a serious tone. “Today is our last day…”.

She gave him time to think about this sentence, breaking the embrace as she slowly stepped to the bed. She did not mean today was litterally the last, but that, soon or later, this secret would take them down. She had regrets? maybe. Was she ashamed. Gods, yes. But would she step back? She could have at any moment, but she did not. Could she now? Before this bed as she stood half naked in front of him.


She wanted to try. She wanted to know. She wanted to feel how it feels like.

To be loved.

She removed her leather pants and held her hair beneath her skull with an arm. Then she let them flow freely, her crimson mane leaving drops of water all over her back, sneakily running to her rear she was showing off now. She laid on the sheets and spread her arms with a relaxing purr. With a finger, she motionned the man to came closer so he could admire the beauty stretching her limbs in his own bed, her entire body displaying all its charms and graces  exclusively to his eyes.

"Come there and do what you have to before I start regretting…”

”If it is indeed…” he said, not finishing the phrase while she showed off her charms, the man was enthralled by her beauty, how could he never notice? or perharps he did notice, simply never acepted that fact that he was attracted to her “I better stop talking” that said he walked towards the redhead laying on his bed, reaching the edge of the bed he crawled towards her, his fingers began running up her leg, gently touching the skin as if she was some kind of dream he never wanted to wake up from.

Following that, he decided to screw all what he knew, and began kissing her legs and going up, until he reached between her legs, that place were more than one man had dreamed of ever touching, his lips remained there as his tongue began to play and please her, for him please her now was everything, letting her have control, for a time now he always wondered how would she be in bed, seems it was right about time to find out.

“This is the first reasonnable thing I’m hearing from you tonight…” She answered with a smile that was hiding a sarcasm. But his fingers and tongue wandering where nobody had explored for so long caught her aback and she moaned softly. She has almost forgotten how it felt like to give in to simple pleasure, her senses are the only commanders of her soul now.

She raised her head to better look at what he was doing and pulled his hair to the rythm of his caresses. Her head tossed back on the sheet, ecstasy printed on her face as she abandonned any common sense to sink into shame and lust.

The smile on his face after hearing her moans was never going to go away, so he keep at it, playing a bit, by the way she reacted he could it has passed a time since she was with someone, for him it was the same how many nights had he spend alone in the dark?

He began biting slightly and softly, kissing after it, testing how much she wanted and how she liked it, he was in the dark in that regard right now, but wanted to try, wanted to learn everything about her, he wanted to please, to make her scream of pleasure, he wanted to taste her, intoxicate in her, he wanted to make her his.

She bit her wrist to muffle the improper noises coming from her throat and closed her eyes. the eagerness in his moves betrayed how much he longed for it but, oddly, the way he was taking care of her pleasure was nothing but selfish. He was giving more than he was taking.

“Don’t…” she whimpered, her green orbs rolling from left to right.

How foolish she was… as her hand stroked his hair before barely touching his cheek, her eyes imploring him to end this game and to start another, to bond them here and now and fulfill their fate.

Garen looked at her, the imploring green emerald, how could he resist? he gave a final kiss and moved up, until he was on top of her, seen the woman below caused mixed feelings on him, but his lust, his desire for her won, he gently entered in her, sealing the bond for the first time between them, a Noxian and a Demacian on the same bed, had this happened before? he did not care…

He began moving inside, first slow, then increasing the rythm, trying to keep her comfortable and pleased, she was so perfect in this moment, the images of her in his head now mixed, a woman and a warrior misstress diferent and the same, she had everything Garen could ask on a woman…

And more.

She clenched her teeth and contracted her shoulders, the pressure of his might damaging her delicate body.  But she could relate to this pain… Noxians were used to get hurt and even found pleasure in suffering; it made them feel alive. And at this exact moment, she felt like a corpse coming to life again. Katarina’s arms wrapped aroung his neck as she hauled herself closer to his chest, her chin onto his shoulder as she panted and grasped for air. But it felt alright… oddly alright.

“In the park… what you told me…” She started as their body moved along in the same soft pace. She needed time before being able to speak again, her mind lost between pleasure and shame. But finally she muttered to his ear, her tone lower than ever.

“Say it…. again please…” She bit her lips in the awaiting of the answer and her nails clenched onto his shoulders.

How could he refuse?, she asked for the words, the words that unknow to him he felt for so long, words that he had never, ever told anybody else, words he never imagined he would say to a noxian…

“I…” he said as he continued making love to this woman, never stoping, feeling her every movement, sensing her every breath, could he said the words? was he really in love with this woman? right know he was beyond doubts, beyond reality, beyon factions “I… love you” he finally said it, three  words that could be his doom, but he didn’t care, all the words, all the phrases he used on the park to express, to confess his feelings to her, resumed in three words that held him under her spell, three words that he will never regret saying.

As soon as he pronounced the words she used to laugh at, she felt like something was breaking in her chest, like a wild fire destroying the last pieces of prejudices she got inside. She strengthened the grip around his neck and snuggled into his neck, muffling her whimpers into soft sighs but not speaking anymore.

Feeling him so close, after all the looks, the words, the trust that coming and going as they dealt about their ideals, they crossed words and fought even more… this was like she always knew this man, like if the first battle that opposed them  was just a retold of a story that would have started long before. Their lovemaking could last until the daybreak and beyond, she cared little. Her senses were dull; she was like an inanimate doll in his arms, carried by the pace, her fingers barely stroking his skin. But the bumps in her chest could testify how alive she was.

But this was forbidden, this was proscibed ! If someone walked in now and found them here, their death would follow as for the dishonor brought on their names and families. But why did simple pleasure and happiness cost this much? Which world allowed this…?

Oh yes. This world.

He wasn’t sure what was going to happen after he said the words, he couldn’t tell, but she simply got closer to him, something he enjoyed, feeling her face so close to his chest, how she breathed into him out of pleasure took him to places beyond anywhere he could relate or remember been in, what was he doing? making love to the woman he came to love and care about, the woman he would swear to die for, doubts? those were far behind now.

He continued the motion, almost reaching a climax point, the mind of Garen was away from Demacia and close to heaven, as if he had been waiting for this the whole of his existence, was he destined for her and her for him? that much he couldn’t tell, he felt like it was the way things should be, but still this was so wrong on his creed, and on hers, but then again did it mattered? for all he know right now the world could prostest all it wanted, he wasn’t going to stop

Minutes went on as they loved each other, two persons trained to combat each other, but now making love to each other„ a retold story indeed, one that both were eagerly waiting to play their parts in.

Katarina let out a slight moan when  the pleasure came to its climax, her nails scratching his back as her body convulsed because of the sudden blow. Her vision became blurr as she tried to look around: the same filthy room with no charm, gloomy and stinky… The only kind of place they could hope to be safe, sheltered from other people’s sight. Not a pleasant thought after so much ecstasy.

She let her arms loose and laid on the sheet again, her head falling  numb. She caught her breathe again and then started at the man above her, not a single word in mind. she used to give a mocking comment or just raise up and leave the bed with her former partners, but on this exact moment, there was nowhere else she wanted to be. Her hand reached for his cheek she stroked in a motherly way as if she was congratulated him for something and a smiled curved on her lips. Not the Sinister Blade’s smile, this sneaky grin everyone knew from her, but a sincere and disturbing smile enlighting her eyes in a brand new way.

After finishing, he remained above her, enjoying her soft touch, thinking on what have transpired between them, the smile on her face, was so different that made him wonder if he was with another person, not Katarina Du’Couteau, but it was her, there was no mistake.

He remained there a bit more, recovering his breathe, thinking how much he enjoyed her, it seemed she though the same, finally he leaned on his side and remained at hers, marveling on her anatomy as his hand careesed her body, starting on the hip and smoohtly and softly going up, his eyes never left hers, he needed not speak, his blue eyes reflected everything he felt for her, supporting the words he just said a few moments ago

Katarina enjoyed the silence that fell in the room, the pace of their breathe as the only thing that could be heard. The rain outside had stopped as if the storm has finally passed. Garen’s hand was tickling her waist as he discovered her flawless anatomy as for the many scars she had across her body. She sat on the bed and started paying more attention to his body now. She recognized a cut in his shoulder to the exact point she aimed everytime they fought. “This one is from me right?” She asked putting a finger on the scar. She seemed almost proud, a grin on her face.

He remained as he was, atonished at her beauty, her perfection, from the silk skin, the tatoo on her chest, her eyes, her hair, her figure, everything, he looked at her as she looked at his body, seen the scars on him, seen hers as well.

“Yes, that’s of your making” he said, taking her hand and moving it to another scar in his body “This one too” he said and then moved her hand over her chest, the left side to be more exact “There are many made by you, and a new one”

When he refered to this “new scar” she laughed, mocking his cheesiness she shamefully enjoyed. “Dumb demacian” She threw at him as she covered his body with hers, up for another round.

The night was long and passionate, the night muffling their sighs of pleasure and the soft words whispered in the dark. But when the first rays appeared in the sky, they were exhausted, their strengths sucked in my the fire that had started among the sheets.

Katarina’s head was resting on his chest, her body recovering from the night.  As she moved her head to find a better spot, her ear caught the sound of his heartbeats. She paid more attention, counting the beatings with the rythm of this organ she tried to reach with a dagger so many times.

“I used to hate that sound” she confessed, her hand slowly rising to caress his heart across his thorax. She closed her eyes and curved a smile. She could live with that now, this noise she once tried to shut now easing her sleep.

How weird to feel safe in your enemy’s arms. But could she still consider him as an enemy. She wondered. Probably not. So who was he to her now?

As soon as she jumped on him, he knew what she wanted, and we was not going to refuse, no matter that they had just finished the first round a few moments ago, for him there was nobody else than her now, for him she meant everything.

The pleasent night went on and on to the point of exhaustion, even for a man of Garen’s physical strenght the night was incredibly tiresome, but no less enjoyable, he wouldn’t change this night for nothing, for the first time in ages he felt satisfied, he could even say happy, and many other emotions related to the lovers bedroom.

The morning rays washed his face, awakening him just barely, he was still trying to figure out if this wasn’t a dream, her words confirmed it wasn’t, as she began hearing his heart beating he smiled, remaining in silence, simple staring at her for moments that could seem eternal, he found it curious, this mellow behavior on her part, but he did what all men should do in this moments, surround their love with his arms and made her feel even more safe, assure her that no matter what, that heart that she is hearing is beating for only one person

It was beating for her.

But this foolish dream had to end. When the rooster started singed, Katarina knew she had just a few minutes left to leave. She pulled off the blankets and sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes lost in the void. She ignored what to say. “We shall not meet again”. “Die you demacian scrub for what you did to me!” None of these lies was satisfying. She turned her head slowly towards him and just said;

“Time for me to go”

Garen raised as well, more slowly, he knew that, sooner or later the dream had to end, he sat behind her, embracing her for a last time “I know…” he simply said, but his voice revealed his feelings, this time he didn’t keep them inside, he would want her to stay, but he would not risk her safety, just as her, he didn’t know what to say, he wanted her to know that, no matter what, she could count on him, but he didn’t find the way…

The morning after is always the hardest part, just as saying goodbye.

She get off his embrace, not giving him a single caress in return, and walked to her clothes dropped on the floor. When she was ready to go, her clothes and weapons on, she turned to him and gave him an almost sad gaze. “Keep your window open. You never know…” this said, she headed to the window of the room, opened it, and jumped off after gazing around. She disappeared in the green of the forest, her steps quick and discrete. The only thing left of her now was this intriguing smell of flower her hair left behind.

Even if she brushed away his arms, even if she hastily dressed and left, her gaze told him everything as his told her the same, and the last words before parting added to a message Garen understood completely, he watched her go, the morning light entering by the window she just jumped out, silently he saw the shadow of the woman he loved sprint away, when she was lost on the distance he walked away from the window and sighed, it was time to go back as well.

The day went on, without eventualities, almost nobody noticed his abscence from the day prior, he easily excused question saying he simply was on solitary patrol around Demacia, something he used to do from time to time, and no one will question.

The night came and the return home to his fastuos yet lonely room seemed a torture compared to the nigth before, despite the lack of luxuries of the inn room, his room on the manor could never compare to what that room held now, never, he prepared to sleep, hopefully he will finally will catch some rest, his mind was now more at ease, and he had made a small peace with his feelings, at least he could try to shut eye now…

But before he went to bed, he made sure the window was open…

Birblr Quiz

So I had an idea that I could make a little multiple choice quiz about the birds of birblr.  A picture of a bird would be shown and the options would be various names one of which would belong to that bird, you’d guess what the name of the bird is and carry on.  This to me sounds like it could be an interesting little activity, whatever percent you get doesn’t really matter it’s all just for fun!  I might make up bird names, throw in names from completely different species, make them all names of the same species, it’s going to be as mixed up as I can make it.

Here’s a quick example of what the quiz might looks like (I’m still deciding on a site to use)

So if you’d like your bird to be a part of this quiz please submit an image and include the name of your bird with the submission.  Your picture doesn’t have to be high quality, try to get an image where their face is visible or an image that best represents your bird, landscape is preferred! Your bird doesn’t have to be a parrot, all bird species are welcome, your blog doesn’t have to be the most popular blog in the world for you to be able to join in.  Even if you’ve only posted your bird on your blog once or twice you are still more than welcome to submit your bird and participate in all the fun!

Other Notable DST lines

Willow accuses Maxwell of being tsundere.
REVIVER = “Hahaha %s, you care about us!”,
Ditto WX (no really she says the same line)

WX-78 is terrifying.

Wilson may have issues
GENERIC = “The earth itself rejects me!”,
           GENERIC = “If I had any friends, this could take me to them.”,
GHOST = “Don’t look at me like that, %s! I’m working on it!”

The reason why he has no friends is that Wilson is a jerk
ATTACKER = “I’m gonna roll up a piece of papyrus newspaper, just in case.”,
BOOK_GARDENING = “I might die of boredom.”
ATTACKER = “%s is silent, but deadly…”, 
> comparing Wes to a fart
WX78 =
GHOST = “I always thought %s could use a heart. Now I’m certain!”
(That’s not even getting into ‘I’m happy to perform amputations’)

Willow is also a jerk though
BOOK_BIRDS = “Less reading, more burning!”,
BOOK_TENTACLES = “Looks like kindling to me!”,
BOOK_GARDENING = “Ughh, who cares?”,
BOOK_SLEEP = “Bo-oring!”
GHOST = “Did your heart give out, %s? Just kidding! Hey!”
(You know! BECAUSE SHE’S OLD!)

Wolfgang is impressed by Woodie’s beard
           GENERIC = “Is beard! Hello!”,
           ATTACKER = “Does beardman %s want to fight?”,
           MURDERER = “Drop axe and fight, beardman!”,
           REVIVER = “%s is nice man with magnificent beard.”,
           GHOST = “Wolfgang will get heart for you, beard!

Maxwell also has issues
COLD = "I knew I would make a terrible pa-pa.”,
ROSE = “This is wrong.”

And identifies with WX
GHOST = “A shame about your death, %s. You were the only one I half-liked.”

And for some reason he thinks Wilson wants to die?
GHOST = “Are you certain you wish to return to this world, %s?”
(He doesn’t say that to anyone else.)

Also, someone at Klei knows about Trogdor the Burninator.
CONTENT = “My own little burninator.”

Broken Dreams and Blood Curdling Screams

This quick drabble was inspired by @itschildofthefairies lovely addition to the stunning art by @zelkam which you can find here! Read it on FF.Net too here

Fiore had always had rather peculiar weather, it was one of the main staples of the area. Sometimes, it could snow in the same coming days after a heat wave. Other times, heat would bear down on skin of civilians after a hurricane. Despite the settling snow that dotted the fields, the blooming flowers surrounding him made it feel like a cool Spring day; the sun beating down over his bare skin, alongside the gentle chirping of birds up in the trees.

It was an idyllic way to die.

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