Tag: Some mentions of Yuri, Diana, Leona, Pillows, Puns. Don't turn around to look, but Teemo is standing right behind you.
It was nighttime, approximately three hours before dawn. The whole Institute of War was currently sleeping. Wrapped inside their warm, fuzzy blankets and resting on their comfortable, fluffy pillows the mighty champions of the League were presently slumbering. Soft sleepy breaths and murmured moans mixing in with the constant flickering of the blue magical orbs that were illuminating the great building's empty corridors. The pulsing and wavering light of said magical orbs also adding to the eerie atmosphere that was permeating the night's dark mysterious air.
Ryze, the blue-skinned rune mage was snoring loudly. The old wizard's scrunched up and visibly grimacing blue face pressed against a pile of scrolls and faded grimoires, the ancient runic tattoos decorating the man's body glowing faintly in the scarce dim light of the quiet chamber. Lulu, the Fae Sorceress was also soundlessly asleep in her respective room, her tiny body splayed over the mattress, little purple arms wrapped around her admittedly colorful pillow which was spotting all the countless colors and hues of an utterly drunk rainbow.
Was Lulu really asleep though? Any observant stalker would have to ask themselves that very question after spotting the accused monstrosity of a cushion that was capable of giving any lesser person an epileptic seizure. The strange colorful pillow almost glowing lightly in hypnotic hues of green, purple and vibrant yellows, its nauseating patterns seemingly shifting with each passing second. But then again, the female yordle seemed fine upon first inspection and Lulu's dear friend Pix would have no doubt alerted a Summoner or a healer of sorts if the Fae Sorceress' sleeping circumstances were anything less than normal. Well, as normal as anything could really be concerning the oddball spell caster.
And so we hurriedly leave the dark room by stealthily tiptoeing around the scattered remains of a wooden toybox and the sea of balls, puzzles, dolls and all kinds of soft toys that are littering the sorceress' floor. The small tsunami of toys apparently threatening to spill out of the female yordle's room and drown the whole world in a deadly flood of cyan, fluorescent green and dark-rainbow. Oh and purple of course! Lots and lots of swirling and shifting magenta items.
Darkness, impermeable, inky black ebony veils of sweet darkness and magical runic fire that's casting long shadows over the walls and the dusty cobblestone ground. That's the first thing we notice upon finally fleeing from the scene of the female yordle's despicable room. The narrator stays still for a few more moments, taking silent, deep (and almost painful) breaths, relishing in the sudden abundance of neon colors and bright electric blue as the chromatic state of the universe suddenly returns back to its blessed normal state. Restoring some semblance of normalcy to this cruel world and spreading hope in the heart of the occasional reader.
But as a wise dear old chronomage would have sternly reminded us, time waits for no one, except from when you are trying to queue as a mid laner of course, then time stands still and Heimerdinger loses his marbles.
With a heavy heart and visibly shaky yet clearly determined footsteps we press onwards, deeper into the old grey corridors and the mysterious domain of the League champions that are residing inside the ancient walls of the Institute. Our each step taking as closer to new, mind-boggling discoveries and facepalms beyond our deepest fears.
Mere corridors farther and less than a couple of minutes after our first encounter with the elusive Fae Sorceress, our keen and intuitive eyes alert us to the subtle changes in the decor as we approach one of the wings housing the majority of the Targonian representatives.
The magical rune-fire grows stronger here, the colors seem to brighten, the ceiling rises in order to better accommodate the imposing builds of the huge Targonians as Demacian banners and Noxian flags give way to ancient inscriptions depicting tall armored figures dancing under the golden rays of the sun and young disciplined warriors standing vigilantly against the armies of barbaric invaders. It is at this exact moment in time that a soft sleepy murmur suddenly draws our avid attention, startling us and yet also captivating us. Beckoning us closer towards the inconspicuous opening of the large wooden door that's staring at us expectantly from the other end of the empty hallway as if begging us to investigate this odd disturbance and uncover the room's bountiful secrets.
And so we do, oh dear friends, as once again we answer to the call of adventure. Bravely taking a peek into the belly of the slumbering beast, our gaze hovers quietly over the dark forms of the carved furniture until we stumble upon a mostly peculiar of sights. A spectacle so startling and bizarre that could no doubt fuel the minds of many poets and writers and give birth to countless stories and fanfictions.
Leona, the Radiant Dawn herself is snoring peacefully in the safety of her king-sized bed. Dressed in a light pink t-shirt and red shorts, with small moans and airy whispers occasionally escaping from her smiling lips the Solari's grip tightens around her poor stuffed plushy. A silver-haired doll with black buttons for eyes, shaped in the likeness of a certain solitary grumpy moon worshipper.
A few moments drag by in silence, the only sound occasionally disturbing this awkward display of affection coming from the joyous hums and purrs emanating from the deepest parts of the sleeping Rakorian woman's throat. The little Diana plushy trapped in her arms still staring straight ahead at the wall with cold and lifeless button-eyes, as if the doll itself is quietly lamenting its own existence. Abruptly as if sensing the poor toy's plight and deciding to comfort the miniature Lunari toy Leona pauses and opens a single warm bleary brown eye. The avatar of the Sun quietly stares at the stuffed toy lovingly before Leona presses a chaste kiss against the pale plushy's small face... Right before the sleepy brunette starts sensually licking the trapped toy's earlobe...!
Leona's bleary brown eye finally closes after a few more seconds of molesting her beloved stuffed captive and then the room is once again engulfed in the light snores of the content sun worshipper. The little Diana doll remains still as if frozen in place. Its tiny beady eyes distant and dead. The majority of the plushy's face drenched in Leona's saliva, the Lunari doll's head hung low as if the stuffed toy had just given up on life.
Abruptly enough a sudden inhale of breath announces the presence of another intruder other than us inside the dark spacious room of the brunette Sun avatar, a pale female figure that has been expertly hidden among the shadows of the dimly lit chamber until now.
The infamous Scorn of the Moon seems shocked at what she has just witnessed, scared even as Diana's wide grey orbs anxiously dart between her old sleeping nemesis and the stuffed Lunari doll that's clasped in the possessive hands of the Radiant Dawn. And the stunned heretic's silver eyebrows almost threaten to disappear underneath her argent hairline when Leona suddenly giggles in her sleep and gives the small plushy another quick loving smoochie.
"Mmm, Diana, just where did you find that cute nurse uniform you are wearing? I love it as much as the kitty ears."
Diana blinks at her enemy owlishly, a small hint of rouge slowly seeping underneath the moon knight's fair features even as a frigid chill suddenly runs down the length of the pale solitary female's spine. Something small abruptly slips and falls from the shaky, numb digits of the accursed moon heretic. The soft object rolling against the wooden floor until it finally stops right next to the bed of the Scorn's lifelong rival. A Leona plushy, complete with a tiny stuffed sword and a soft yellow shield and the smudges of messy silver lipstick trailing down the tiny doll's mouth and face...
"Mmm, yes Diana, such a loyal and devoted acolyte, offering your shapely body to me in order to save your doomed village from my wrath... Fine then young maiden, step forward and make love to your new goddess."
The pale woman slowly blinks once more. A wonderful blush already painting the pale majority of Diana's face, the heretic's jumbled thoughts presently occupied by images of the filthy sun-kisser and her in the most compromising of positions. The moon knight abruptly takes a deep noisy breath and steps forward. Diana then violently tosses Leona's favorite plushy on the wooden floor before wrapping her slender arms around her vile Sun-kisser.
Leona instantly wakes up from the heretic's touch and said sun-kisser can merely gasp upon seeing the uninvited intruder that's in her chambers. The brunette's brown eyes almost buldging out of her head in an apparent show of shock and confusion.
And so we flee from the room ladies & gents, racing for the open door as Leona's startled shouts suddenly turn into moans of pleasure and the first article of clothing lands over the terrified visage of a wide-eyed silver-haired doll. Two tiny pairs of black lifeless button-eyes silently follow us as we leave, their accusing glares somehow still reaching us even as we dive out of the room and into a long marble staircase.
The mute cries of the unfortunate stuffed dolls forever haunting our dreams, filling us with immense guilt for leaving them behind as Leona's hoarse voice unexpectedly rises towards the heavens.
"Say it, Di! Don't make me bring out the handcuffs and those mouth restraint-thingies!"
"P-praise the sun" Whimpers the blushing moon knight.
And as the weird ragged noises and the throaty moans coming from Leona's room seem to intensify and the narrator finally reaches the doorway and practically flies out of the Institute's building, no one notices the depressed form of poor Pantheon that's sobbing in the confines of his private room. The mighty Targonian warrior is silently crying curled up on the floor of an adjacent chamber to Leona's. An old picture of the Radiant Dawn firmly pressed against the armored man's toned chest even as Diana's voice suddenly pierces the paper-thin walls of the wannabe baker's chambers.
"So you like it rough, huh Leo? Then I am gonna spank your Sun-kissing butt until it is all black and blue like your weak sun-god during a solar eclipse!"
"OHhh! Ohhh! Arrrgh! Go on Di, it hurts so good and I think that I'm a pervert!"
"Call me mistress Moonwhip, bitch! Thank me for teaching you your place as my slave."
" Y- yes, mistress Moonwhip! T-thank you!"
And so this story ends here, forgotten in the dark deserted hallways of the institute of War. Hidden behind either locked or open doors and dim lit chambers, shy embraces and affectionate gazes that are stalking dark figures nestling inside the peaceful air of the night. And even as the voices of the two Targonian Avatars suddenly reach their peaks and a now catatonic armored warrior gazes intently at the knots of the noose he has just constructed, the secrets of the Institute and its residents once again remain undiscovered as the glorious pyre of the sun slowly climbs over the sky's black horizon. Bathing the dark shades of the world in pure radiant golden light.
"Yes, yes Leona! Keep doing that thing with your tongue! Just think of my body as forbidden tasty moonshine that you have to devour in order to please me! Your mistress demands absolute compliance from you, you useless thrall, now climb back up here and kiss me like you mean it."
Pantheon whimpers, one foot already on top of the rickety old stool as he eyes the length of rope that's hanging from the room's ceiling solemnly.
Writer's note: A simple lighthearted story and one of my more tame works featuring Diana and Leona. This story is pretty old and was a separate part of a scrapped series that was supposed to explore the sleep habits of some champions and League couples. Chapter 18 was also part of that collection and I can still faintly recall something about a romantic Shyvana one-shot the plot of which I can't quite remember, being the first chapter of the series. I like the invention of the respective Sun and Moon avatars sleeping with plushies of their nemesis and nursing a secret crush on each other. Imagine a story where one of the two champions was turned into a plushy by a spell caster and then given to the other avatar as a jest for example. The unsuspecting champion then confesses her feelings of love to the stuffed toy while practicing to someday reveal her feelings to her hateful longtime rival. Like always feel free to use any of my ideas if you want to write something along those lines or just like a prompt. Have a nice day.