im back and feeling a lot better! i like to think that malzahar is the one that takes care of the little void creatures so here’s him and kog
who put that there
there was actually a lot larger image that i doodled as fuel for my friend bekki as she trudged through her commissions :’)
this would make one really gay bookmark if i decided to not draw talon’s stupid armthingys and put his hands down south
"What happened to you??" Talon asks, frowning down at the man before him. Malzahar is leaning against his door-frame, looking weary and dried blood caked to his robe and sweat pasting brown locks of hair to the sides of his face.
He’s a mess, and Talon has more than a few guesses as to why.
"I made a mistake," the prophet rasps, coughing heavily. Blood dribbles down his chin, and Talon grits his teeth.
"Get in here," the assassin says, helping the other man to cross over his threshold. Malzahar stumbles as he walks—too weak to keep himself in the air, yet still unaccustomed to using his legs. He sinks into a stout wooden chair with a groan, hissing at the contact, and Talon heads to his makeshift kitchen.
"It was Kassadin, again, wasn’t it??" the assassin asks flatly, as he hands the prophet a glass of water.
Malzahar nods, weakly, settling farther into Talon’s chair. He takes the water with a half-mumbled thank you, and does his best to drink.
"Tell me what happened," Talon says, leaning up against his counter. He watches Malzahar’s movements with narrowed eyes—absently noting each new injury on the other man’s body.
"I went… A bit too far this time," remarks Malzahar, studying the way the water flows around the edges of the glass. The condensation on the outside mixes with the blood on his palms, and Talon watches beads of water run down the prophet’s wrists.
"And yet," Malzahar continues, a short laugh bubbling up his throat, "he still couldn’t kill me… Isn’t it funny??" His laugh dissolves into another bout of coughing, and he drinks from his glass once more. Talon simply continues to observe him, silent eyes encouraging him to finish.
Malzahar looks down, an almost-smile on his lips. “The Walker hates me—he’s supposed to hate me—and yet… he still doesn’t have the guts to kill me.” Malzahar sends a curious look towards the assassin before him.
"Isn’t it funny??" the man repeats, a half smile still formed on his bloody lips. But Talon doesn’t laugh.
"You wouldn’t have the guts to kill him, either," Talon points out, quietly, and the grin slips off of Malzahar’s face. He turns, once more, to stare solemnly at his glass.
Talon’s right, of course—both men know that he is—but Malzahar doesn’t want to admit it. The Walker is, as always, a touchy subject for them both. The prophet cringes as he shifts in his seat, his limbs and mind both equally weary.
Neither man says anything more until Malzahar has stomached as much water as he can. Talon takes his—now somewhat bloodied—glass to the counter with a sigh.
"There’s a futon in the back," Talon starts, eyeing the prophet’s various injuries. "Go get some rest. I’ll bring you a washcloth and some gauze."
The prophet’s gaze turns to him, soft, thankful, and nearly human. There’s a depth in the look that Talon understands and, in his own way, almost wants to cherish.
The assassin looks away. He must be growing soft.
So many Malzahar/Talon requests in my inbox
I suppose I owe this to all of you, since I get messages weekly about how I’ve made a lot of you ship this pairing and adore it (thank you, by the way ;w; ). Sorry that I’ve taken such a long break in drawing some more of it OTL I still love these two and I’ll never stop, so more is on the way soon, probably one that actually isn’t messy
…My feelings for him never changed. Even if he may be gone for the time being. He just… disappeared one day, but I suppose being a prophet of the Void means that he’s busier than most.
wait malz u r not my animation hw
something for myself cause yeah..a little break and practice
mimi, NO STAHP.
oh, and the place we’re staying at has daily arts and craft activities that i’m like 90% sure are for kids 10 and under. today was sand dollar painting. i present to you malzadollar
tomorrow is coconut painting. i wonder what new masterpiece of fingerpaints i’ll crank out next.
Love? No need for that emotion. They are the minions of the Void that I have created.
Voidlings do not require food to survive. Void essence is all that they require. However, they do like the taste of flesh and blood from our fallen foes.
(( Thank you, MageCakes for coloring this for me~ Lineart done by Mun. ))
Forgot to reblog here. Woops!