A Hermit Inventor’s Passive Aggressive Praise | Accepting

“Don’t you give yourself enough praise already, executioner?”

Cuter possessive/jealous meme

She is startled by this outburst, brows furrowing but lips smiling. 

“I-I… Draven you don’t need to fight for me. I can take care of myself you know.“ She looks down at her feet, noting her boots beginning to tear at the sole. She hopes he doesn’t notice as she flicks her eyes back to him. “What brought this on anyways…“

LEAVE A “FIGHT ME” IN MY ASK, AND I WILL WRITE A DRABBLE OF MY CHARACTER FIGHTING WITH OR AGAINST YOURS.

She laughs, delighted, when his axe actually clips her wing, drawing a thin trickle of blood. “You are skilled!” she praises, and it is high praise indeed, coming from her.

It is good that he is not all bark and no bite. He certainly had a lot of the former.

Darius watches from the side of the practice arena, and his knuckles are white if one looks closely enough. After all…both fighters had a tendency to lose themselves in battle when they had the chance.

He would prefer not to watch his younger brother go up in flames just because he’d had the audacity to challenge the Judicator, “just for kicks.” He knew full well that the angel did not know the meaning of a friendly fight. Anytime she raised her blade, she heard the screams of the battleground.

“But I am better.”

She has to admit she is enjoying herself. Both the brothers have proved to be a good fight, and she appreciates that.

But the sheer difference in experience, knowledge, and skill is insurmountable. 

She moves faster than thought, and Draven stumbles in surprise; it is enough for her, and her blade stops a hair from his throat as he hits the ground. He swears in surprise. 

It is suddenly very clear that she had simply been standing the whole time, barely defending herself at all. 

She chuckles, and the fire burning over her helm and in her palm flickers and fades. She reaches out, offering him her hand, and he takes it with the very grudging respect one good soldier gives another.

Darius chuckles, and Kayle’s eyes sparkle from the shadows of her helm. 

“You are strong,” she hums, and her hand squeezes his shoulder, warm and heavy. “You should be proud.”

Jhin poses, and sweeps back hood as if it was his hair and stroke an invisible mustache.

“I’m Draaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaven, and I’m great. Everyone loves me, even though I’m just an egocentric murderer. Thats right, I’m Draaaaaaav-” Jhin nearly chokes, and has to take a huge breath of air. 

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“Draven, I think you’re actually a better person than you let on.“ She smiles and takes his hand carefully, feeling the roughness of his skin and the bones under.

She glares at him, eyeing his features and the particular quirk of his lips. His confidence would normally be something that she found sexy, but he just had too much of it.

“Smash.“