Being a champion of the League of Legends of the Institute of War had many perks. To every average person in Valoran, a champion of the League was not only a respected individual with either notable strength, skills or wits, but also the representative of their city-state of origin, a refined diplomat, and a hero to look up to.
Thankfully for Talon, he was none of the above.
There was no bright side when you were asked or ordered to join the League. First, a lot of bureaucracy was involved. Your government put you through a selection that required passing tests, proving your loyalty to your city-state, boasting about your origins if they were of any interest, and in the end, you had to stand in a room filled with so-called High Councilors that were only summoners with fancy purple robes. They would tie you to a magical blue stone they called a nexus to complete your ‘Judgment’ and prod your mind.
Prod it like a stick poking your rear hole.
They would enter slowly, look around, touch and feel, and be the voyeurs to your thoughts’ showdown. It was embarrassing, humiliating, but at least you earned no money.
And for all those reasons, when Talon was violently shaken out of his peaceful sleep that morning, he considered resigning.
Swollen honey eyes blinked as the sun hit him in the face. The curtain of the only window in his room was open, and Talon found himself halfway out of the bed, his arm grazing the floor and his legs awkwardly stuck between the edge of the bed and the wall that was of a very dull color, just like everything else at the Institute of War when it came to the floor reserved to the champions.
A scowling redhead was sitting on his bed, arms crossed under her chest. “Come on, wake up,” she insisted.
“Fuck you want,” he mumbled groggily.
“It’s noon already,” Katarina informed him, almost scolding him.
“I was summoned yesterday,” Talon reminded her. “I died so many times I deserve some rest. I swear, if I hear another summoner say they have tactics—”
“We have a tango class to attend.”
“We?” Talon asked, ready to die to tactics again rather than putting up with tango classes. “Drop out,” he mumbled in his pillow as he rolled to lie on his stomach. “You’re a terrible dancer.”
Katarina’s brow twitched, and she rammed her fist into his side, causing him to jump and curse loudly in his bed sheets. “I can’t just skip,” she complained, chewing on her lip. “It’s part of the subscription to Blitzcrank’s Fleshling Compatibility Services, and Sarah said that I would have to refund her money if I didn’t go through with it.”
Talon opened one eye to glance at her, before snorting and resuming his snoozing. “You’re loaded. Just refund the gift.”
The eldest Du Couteau stared at the ceiling, her foot shaking in annoyance.
Her father’s ward lifted his upper body to partially turn around when he noticed how quiet she suddenly was. “You want to go,” he commented. “Seriously,” he huffed, falling back on top of the pillows, “if you want to shake Crownguard’s berries so much, you could just use one of those teleportation portals you subscribed for or, you know, walk down the damn hallway and leave me fuck alone.”
Katarina stood up silently, and took two long strides, heading to the door. Talon breathed out a sigh of relief. It wasn’t often that he won against the redhead’s antics, and he intended on savoring it.
“Fine,” she still huffed as she opened the door. “I’ll let you rest. I’ll also make sure no one bothers you today, not even for food, and specifically tell them not to bring you any Isomalt’s Peccable Pecan Pie from Sinful Succulence. We wouldn’t want you to get hemorrhoids once again.”
The bedroom door was shut behind her loudly, the walls trembling slightly. Talon hummed pleasantly before his eyes bulged out of their sockets. She wouldn’t dare.
Light brown eyes glanced at the tiny water clock on the end table at his right. Tango class started in about an hour.
The dance classroom was the only room with windows as tall as the walls. They offered a distinct view on the ethereal forest that surrounded the Institute of War, the sun casting orange hues on the smooth floor as it pierced through the larges leaves of the trees in the gardens. The wall adjacent to the door was covered with mirrors, while the opposite one was plain and bare. The entire room was silent, except for the chirping sounds coming from the wild surrounding the Institute and the occasional humming of the dance instructor.
Twisted Fate’s mauve eyes scanned the female demon’s figure as she fumbled with the techmaturgical instrument that wouldn’t play the music she wanted. Evelynn was dressed in an outfit that matched his but that was much more revealing. Her dress barely reached her thighs, the fabric floating around her round, plump bottom. The bustier she wore looked more like a very tight, sleeveless leather top that showed a generous amount of cleavage, and if he didn’t know her, he wouldn’t have expected the long ties of her collar to be the slashers she used against the clueless men she wanted to have in her bed out of boredom. Her platinum blonde hair was neatly tucked into a low bun she decorated with red roses, and the gypsy found himself sighing at the sight of her exposed neck.
A large knuckle brushed his chin before the hand slapped him, and the male instructor glared at the bearded man who sat on the floor, one arm resting on his bent knee. His outlaw friend laughed at him, shaking his head.
“Wipe the drool, Tobias.”
Removing the fat cigar that hung from his old partner’s lips, Twisted Fate replied, “No smoking in here.” Moving to open one of the windows, the dance teacher threw the cigar away.
The burly, older man rolled his eyes, his smirk never leaving his face. He never understood why the Serpentine gypsy put up with the ridicule that forced him to wear some striped tie and form-fitting slacks, until he entered the tango classroom that morning. He would gladly admit that Evelynn was a fine woman, more than fine in fact, but his personal radar detected weirdos faster than when his sixth sense tingled at the proximity of law enforcers.
“Why are you even here, Malcolm?” Twisted Fate whispered as he returned to his previous spot. “You didn’t pay the fee.”
Graves shrugged, a calloused hand rubbing his beard and tracing his moustache. “Think I’d miss seeing you wearing tights? You look hilarious, son.”
Twisted Fate glared into the Bilgewaterite’s bright green eyes. “I am not wearing tights.”
“Really? ‘Cause I can see the outline of your very small cock,” Graves chimed in, his annoying, signature chuckle marking every word he spoke. He was about to keep going, when a shrilling sound interrupted their banter.
An enormous minotaur stood at the entrance of the classroom, a cowbell in hand as he signaled the beginning of the lesson. Graves licked his front teeth, eyebrows raised before he shrugged. “I will just pretend all of this makes sense,” he told Twisted Fate, patting one of his shoulders before swaggering out of the room.
Students flooded inside, and Twisted Fate tugged on his black fedora, hoping no one would see the disappointment in his eyes. This was certainly not the class he wanted to teach.
Truth be told, he didn’t even want to teach. Ever since the yearly Royal Masquerade Ball in Demacia City, the Institute of War insisted the two League Champions who stunned the crowd with their performance at the costumed carnival held classes at the Institute itself. Reporter Auras Lam wouldn’t stop talking about how the League lacked activities and needed a better atmosphere for the city-state representatives. However, as Twisted Fate scanned the faces of his new students, he wondered how his tango knowledge would be of any help.
“Blitzernet customers, please frontline,” Evelynn said in an authoritative tone. Her yellow eyes narrowed at the sight of Garen Crownguard. “What are you wearing?”
Clad in a blue uniform with bright, golden shoulder pads, the Demacian commander shrugged. “It’s my Crown Dance Academy uniform.”
The demoness blinked, deciding she would rather not question his logic. Evelynn grabbed a piece of paper, scribbling down the names of the students that showed up on time, then suddenly lifted her gaze.
“Queen Ashe and King Tryndamere?”
The minotaur who hadn’t stopped hitting his cowbell at the entrance of the classroom turned around. “Both were summoned for a match,” Alistar replied.
“Alright,” the blonde whispered, crossing out the royals’ names. “Let’s get started.”
The other dance instructor nodded, before motioning their students to stand next to their respective partners. Katarina Du Couteau and Garen Crownguard stood right in front of the dance instructors, as well as Janna Windforce and Summoner Nashahago. Twisted Fate realized that with the absence of the Freljord couple, the class was even smaller. The gypsy spotted Talon’s scowling face at the far back, a seemingly excited Riven bouncing next to him.
“What did she blackmail you with?”
Riven laughed. “Nothing,” was her answer. “I just wanted to see her putting up with this.”
Talon didn’t know whether to roll his eyes at her or at the humping music that suddenly blasted his ears.
“Let’s go over the basics for the next hour,” Evelynn offered professionally. “Posture is the key here, so please face your assigned partner and let me see how you’d initiate the dance.”
The mauve-eyed male had to admit that for a demon huntress, she knew how to do her job. His gaze fell on the soft curve of her bosom when Twisted Fate heard her growl. Coughing, he looked back at his students, who were obviously doing it all wrong.
Garen placed his hands around Katarina’s ribcage, while she kept moving her hands, stopping midair and awkwardly glancing around. She occasionally rose on her tiptoes, failing to reach the man’s broad shoulders every time. With an annoyed snort, she complained, “How is this supposed to work?”
“Dear,” Evelynn addressed Garen, her clawed hand patting his lower back. “Be a gentleman and bend slightly.”
The blue-eyed man raised an eyebrow at the dance instructor. “Am I supposed to dance with my back hunched?”
Bright yellow eyes glanced at Katarina’s feet, and Evelynn grimaced. “Why are you wearing combat boots? I said heels are required for this class.”
“Heels wouldn’t make a difference,” the redhead muttered grumpily. “This guy is twice my height.”
Evelynn’s hand inched down, and Garen stiffened at the feel of his butt being groped in public. Her claws pierced the fabric of his uniform. “Just bend already,” she whispered suavely, before slapping his cheeks.
A snicker reached Katarina’s ears, and she whipped her head around, red-faced from anger. Talon’s arm was circling Riven’s waist, whose body was flush against his, and their posture was being approved by Twisted Fate, who simply readjusted the silver-haired fighter’s arm around her partner’s shoulders.
Talon was smirking under the raised collar of his button-down, black shirt. “Told you, you’re a terrible dancer,” he said.
“Your attention, please,” Evelynn interrupted the three couples who were still either fumbling or snickering, and she extended her arms to let Twisted Fate hold her by the waist, pressing their lower bodies together. “Tango follows a very simple, charming pattern,” she explained in an alluring tone, “the Step, Dip and Spin. Tobias,” she then nodded at her partner.
Nearly wagging his eyebrows at her, the gypsy broke down the pattern for their students to better understand. He stepped forward, and Evelynn extended her left leg so that she would follow him and step backwards. He then pushed his chest against hers, causing her to arch her back, and finally, as he brought her back up, he raised their joined hands to let her spin in place.
“Your turn,” Evelynn then flatly told the class.
“No, no, no,” Twisted Fate sighed, shaking his head at both Talon and Riven as they completed their pattern. “Riven, it’s the man’s job to lead,” he chided.
He motioned Talon to step aside, missing the glare the assassin sent his way, and pulled the silver-haired woman against him. “You can’t push against my hand,” Twisted Fate instructed. “If I pull you against me, you follow; if I grab your thigh,” he went on, curling his hand around the genuinely interested fighter, “you circle my leg with it.”
The honey-eyed man that watched their exchange in silence suddenly cleared his throat. Twisted Fate payed no attention, letting go of Riven only when Evelynn’s long fingernails tugged on his black hair and yanked him backwards. His head felt dizzy, and the shadows that suddenly surrounded him were the clear indication that he missed every warning.
“T obias ,” Evelynn hissed in his ear. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Swallowing hard, the tango teacher felt a bead of sweat roll down the side of his face. “Teaching?”
The pale blonde’s skin was slowly turning a deep shade of blue, the slashers hanging from her neck raising menacingly. Their students stopped moving altogether at the sight of her imminent transformation, and Janna shrieked, earning a malevolent stare from her dance instructor.
“Stop squirming, skank,” Evelynn growled. “And stop hovering! Fat-face here can’t even reach you to practice,” she added cruelly, pointing at a very dejected Nashahago. “Get out!” she screamed. “Everyone get out!”
As the other League Champions scurried away from her, some frightened and some other relieved that their torture was over, Twisted Fate crawled on all fours behind the demoness, hoping to take advantage of the ruckus to see himself out. He heard Garen mutter something about finally getting the spin part right, while Talon was loudly repeating he wasn’t being led at all during practice. Startled at the sight of the students leaving the classroom before the end of the lesson, Alistar began hitting the cowbell he carried, as if they needed the extra reminder that class ended.
Twisted Fate was halfway past the door when he heard the demoness slither behind him.
The door was slammed shut and locked, and his back was pressed against the cold surface of the floor. “Eve,” he breathed out, his heart threating to jump out of his chest. “Baby, I love you,” he tentatively whispered.
“Really, now,” the demoness hissed, grabbing one of her slashers as she straddled his lap, spinning her weapon like a lasso above his head. Her other hand grabbed his striped tie, forcing him upwards as she captured his lips, her tiny fangs drawing blood. Yellow eyes narrowed at his stiffness, and she glanced at her thighs. “Aren’t you going to touch them? Grab them?
“Are they not muscled enough, maybe?”
Gulping, Twisted Fate ran his palms up and down her legs, but she sniffed and rolled her eyes.
“You’re a man-whore, and a cheater.”
Their noses were touching, and Twisted Fate’s look softened. “Babe,” he whispered. “I only have eyes for you, you know that,” he said, attempting to charm his way out of his predicament.
Evelynn ignored his words, both her slashers whipping against his arms, tearing his shirt and undershirt. Twisted Fate felt the cuts on his skin, and winced slightly. It was getting harder to breathe with the way she tightened his tie around his neck by rolling her wrist, but his face was practically between her generous breasts, and his pants were starting to feel uncomfortable.
Twisted Fate shifted beneath her, his large hands pressing her butt cheeks together. Evelynn let go of his tie and he fell to the ground the moment she slapped him hard, her claws scratching his skin and maiming his face. She was already shredding his clothes, which only clung to his body more as they were gradually soaked in blood. The gypsy let out pained cries that turned into moans as the blue-skinned demoness ground her hips against his. She rolled and rubbed, her long tongue running over her fangs and wetting her thin lips. Her red dress hiked up her hips, and she smiled in approval as she felt him poke her thighs.
“Well,” she said suavely. “Let’s see what you have there for me.”
She unbuckled his black leather belt, and unbuttoned his pants quickly. Her clawed hand reached inside, her lustful yellow gaze holding his.
Her fingers curled around something that felt stiff at first, then bended like paper. Frowning, the demoness pulled away, looking at what stood between them. She peeled the pants off him, and cards sprung out.
“Tobias,” she threatened.
“It’s not what you think,” he defended himself, gathering the cards faster than his clothes before the usual walk of shame. “Look, they’re all blue cards! I don’t have the yellow ones with me.”
She gave him a pointed stare.
“There was just a hole in my pocket.” His voice was tiny.
Evelynn’s face relaxed, and she smiled softly. “Alright,” she said gently, the blue color of her skin slowly fading to ivory, before bending to kiss him slowly. Her tongue parted his lips, and he relaxed under her initially rough touch, bringing both arms to curl around her upper body.
Twisted Fate didn’t feel a thing when she snatched his fedora hat and pressed it against his face, covering it entirely. Her hand was over his mouth, and the dark-haired human nearly gagged at the lack of air. A muffled ‘Eve’ escaped his lips, but the blonde planted her claws in his side, until she felt them scratch his ribcage.
His back arched, hips pushing against hers in an attempt to throw her off him, but she laughed maniacally. In a swift move, she sat on his still erect cock. Her claws were deeply embedded into his side, and one of her slashers pinned his wrists to the ground. Evelynn let go of the hat then, looking down lovingly.
“Fucking crazy, bipolar, sadistic—”
Evelynn laughed harder, her platinum blonde hair clinging to her neck as her body glistened with sweat. “What’s got you so uptight, baby ?” she mocked him.
She was bouncing on his lap, forcing all sorts of sounds from the man’s throat, but he refused to look at her face even when he knew she enjoyed it when he kept his eyes on her. Eyes were the gates to love, she would usually tell him. The demoness’ free slasher reached behind her, delving between Twisted Fate’s slightly parted legs and poking at his ass.
Mauve eyes widened, and he gasped at her. “No—”
Evelynn giggled happily, her inner walls clenching firmly around his dick until she felt the precum spill, and she took it as her queue to push one slasher between his crack, prodding his tight entrance.
“You’re going to scratch everything—”
The slasher thrusted in, and Twisted Fate’s eyes snapped shut, his jaw tightening at the pain. He felt her tentacle wiggle inside to stretch his already sore asshole, and suddenly his wrists were free. The dark-haired man grabbed her hips, trying to push her away, but a second slasher penetrated him. The two weapons thrusted at a different pace, and he choked on air, his eyes stinging and his cock throbbing from her endless pull. The blonde was moaning for them both, her mouth shaped in an ‘o’, clawing at his scalp as she pulled him closer. Her slashers hammered him into the ground, and when she found his prostate, Twisted Fate brought one of his fists down, the thin wooden planks underneath him cracking.
“Fucking pull out,” he groaned when blood spilled from his forbidden hole.
Lost in her own pleasure, Evelynn ignored his plea and slammed her hips against him harder while her slashers delved even deeper. Twisted Fate squirmed and brought his fist down repeatedly as he was split in two. He cracked an eye open only to be overwhelmed by the sight of his dance partner pulling at her breasts and his release shook the ground.
He thought she probably used one of her demonic marks on him as he felt himself weightless, as if he were floating in the air, until she screamed and laughed happily, clenching around his dick as she came violently, and they both hit a different ground. Twisted Fate’s head slam against a hard, stone surface, the blonde demoness sighing happily against his chest. He passed out silently, drool dampening his chin.
A shadow hovered above them, and yellow eyes peered up at a blindfolded monk who stood next to their sated, bloodied bodies with his arms crossed.
“You interrupted my meditation,” Lee Sin stated in a monotone. “You literally crashed into the ground floor,” he added. “I’ll have your class canceled!”
Evelynn didn’t retort, finding herself totally fine with the idea of ‘her Tobias’ not coming anywhere near other female humans.