Hello! and welcome to my first multi-chaptered League of Legends fic. I got this idea in my head that Annie would be awesome if she was older and it just kind of took flight. I changed up the writing style again, made it a bit more focused on the gaming mechanics/slang and the actual Fields of Justice that many of us have come to love. I played with certain details (Vi's gauntlets, Annie's age, Piltover) as I saw fit.

You can view my version of the older Dark Child in all her glory here, minus the spaces:

supremedistraction. deviantart art/Annie-Hastur-Older-377832997

Otherwise, enjoy ;D

-Taunt-

"Play with me!"

"I swear…"

"C'mon… It'll be fun!"

"Can it, pipsqueak. I can't play with you right now."

The "pipsqueak" in question pouted. As the youngest member of the League of Legends, Annie Hastur often found herself bored out of her mind; even with Tibbers—the shadow bear she had spellbound in the stuffed doll version of its true terrifying form—around, she never seemed to be able to find a playmate to keep her entertained.

Which was why she resorted to irritating the ever-loving hell out of the other Champions.

Her taunt, "Beaten by a little girl… Hah!" was perhaps the most 'spammed' phrase, ranking right up there with Tristana's "Is that a rocket in your pocket?" and Alistar's "YOU CAN'T MILK THOSE!"

After all, Summoners were jerks.

The girl's current target, a muscular young woman with a punk-rocker sort of look about her, raised the gigantic hextech gauntlets she usually wore with a threatening, "I'm not above hitting a kid."

Okay, so maybe playing with Vi wouldn't be fun. Normally it would be since the pink-haired bruiser enjoyed causing trouble almost as much as the Dark Child did, but apparently she wasn't in the mood right then. The magenta-haired mage blew a raspberry in the woman's direction and skipped away, clutching Tibbers to the breast of her school uniform—the standard sweater vest-dress shirt-skirt combo complete with shiny black Mary Janes. She had spiced up the look with a headband that bore pointed cat ears and thick knee high socks that were striped with shades of her favorite colour, purple.

"I wish I was big, Tibbers. Then mean old Vi would stop treating me like a kid."

The teddy, or rather the malevolent spirit within the cloth covering, growled.

It wasn't just Vi, of course. Even Lux, who happened to be a few years older, looked down on her as though she was some spoiled brat who had managed to get to the League by pure luck.

She had more magical energy in her little finger than that stupid light bulb had in her entire body!

But Vi was the only one who actually put up with her pranks and schemes. Vi understood that, sometimes, it was necessary to break things. To burn things.

The pyromaniac sighed and kicked the ground, not really sure where to go now. The Rift was empty for the moment while the Summoners were still in queue and the Champions from the last match with the exception of herself, Vi, Kayle and Morgana, had vacated the premises in favor of the in-between world that Champions waited in to be sent back to their original worlds.

Wait… That was it! The sorceress was even more powerful than the Dark Child. She could help Annie get what she wanted.

With that in mind, the little girl skipped off, towards Baron Nashor's pit.

Sure enough, the Fallen Angel was hovering just above the chasm where the giant beast usually spawned as Annie had expected.

What she hadn't expected to see was her sister, Kayle, in her arms, their lips sealed together while the younger sister's purple-feathered wings worked steadily to keep the both of them aloft.

"We should stop meeting like this," Morgana purred playfully, nipping the blonde's bottom lip.

The Judicator—the polar opposite of the purple-haired woman—smiled warmly, those intense cerulean eyes that Annie knew for a fact could calm a charging Dragon a few shades darker as they focused on her younger sister. "I want you."

Clawed fingers cupped the older woman's cheek, skimming lightly along the high, elegant cheekbone. "Oh?"

"Mm…"

"Show me."

Kayle snorted, but buried her long fingers in a mane of purple waves and pulled Morgana back in, their lips connecting with the fierceness of warriors, tongues darting out and dancing against each other like nimble weapons.

Annie blinked, her bright green eyes widening. She wasn't so naïve that she didn't know what the two were up to, but she wasn't sure why her face was heating up or why her heart was racing like that.

Unbidden, an image of a certain pink-haired bruiser holding her with the same possessive force that Kayle was Morgana filled her mind's eye and that blush only got worse.

"I'll miss you."

She had been so lost in thought that she had missed the end of the kiss—the sisters' farewell.

"You'll be back before you know it," was the gruff response.

Kayle nodded, disappearing back to her realm in a glittering surge of magic. Despite her earlier bravado, the spell-caster's shoulders drooped and she sighed.

"What's the matter? Miss your sister?" Annie asked, stepping out of the bush in front of Baron's pit.

The Fallen Angel rounded on the young mage, her eyes glowing a furious shade of purple. "What do you want?"

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about you and Kayle—I promise."

"…" The sorceress landed before the girl, towering over her both physically and with her intimidating presence. She knew that a spell caster's favours were not given out freely. "And what must I do in return, Dark Child?"

Annie hugged her teddy, swinging it back and forth as she swayed. "I need a teeny tiny spell to make me alllllll grown up."

"And why would you need such a thing?"

When the magenta-haired child shook her head vehemently, Morgana crouched, grabbing the young mage's chin with a clawed hand. There was none of the gentleness Annie had witnessed before with Kayle—merely impatience. "Answer me."

But the dark magic that fueled Annie's powers rose up, responding to the pull of the powerful sorceress's and her question was answered in the form of a series of images, each more graphic than the last. If she was surprised, she didn't show it. "Are you certain that is what you want? Vi may not—"

"I know what I'm doing," the girl insisted, frowning.

"Incredible." Morgana sighed and reached up to pull a feather from her wings. It began to decay almost immediately, but her eyes glowed and the process halted. "We wielders of the dark arts are blessed with eternal life. You could wait for eons, find the proper match for yourself. You could have anyone you want. And yet you choose her—a human? And a vulgar human at that."

The dark mage cast Black Shield on herself the moment she sensed a surge of magic and, sure enough, the pyromaniac cast Summon Tibbers right next to her, releasing her shadow bear from his fluffy prison.

"Don't make me hurt you." Annie had always had a short temper. Hearing the Fallen Angel bad-mouth one of the few people she actually cared about was a no-no. Temper or no, she knew better than to seriously challenge the Fallen Angel and the spell had been a warning one.

The massive, flaming ursine creature beside her roared in agreement, flexing his claws and sneering down at the woman.

"Tch." The purple, hexagonally-tiled barrier around the woman dissipated and she held out the feather, now a pure white. "It is merely a charm for the time being. If you can manage to carry out your plot then you can make the spell permanent."

That last bit of the charm had been out of generosity and the child knew it. She grinned, throwing her arms around the spell-caster's leg. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!"

Magical affinity increased with age. The Dark Child already had so much potential bottled up in that little body that it would be a crying shame not to see where it could lead. And knowing her propensity for mayhem, the transformation would likely provide plenty of entertainment with a side of mass destruction.

Or so Morgana told herself.

She was not helping the child because she knew Kayle would approve. Not one bit.

x-x-x

"Gah… Maybe I was too hard on the kid," Vi sighed. Normally she wouldn't have cared, but the twerp seemed to be the only one around here who understood that a little bit of destruction was a good thing.

Her partner, Caitlyn, had been bitching at her to clean up her act as of late, so playing the Dark Child's games was off limits.

At least for today, anyway.

The Piltover Enforcer groaned and plopped down on a the fountain's steps, twisting her hands within her hextech gauntlets so that the systems powering them went offline and they began to cave in on themselves, collapsing into more manageably sized metal vambraces. Just a little while longer and the return spell would activate, sending her home to Piltover. At least there she could grab something to eat and hopefully find a way to occupy herself.

All work and no play made the "one girl wrecking crew" want to break things.

A return portal popped into existence before the bruiser, its shining face reflecting the tall buildings and bright neon lights of her home town, bathing the blue team base with luminosity.

Honestly, spell-casters were such show-offs. It was all smoke and mirrors for them—nothing could be presented in a straightforward manner.

The fighter was quite the opposite: whatever she did, she did without playing mind games or putting on silly airs. Same with the way she spoke. Why disguise shit? In the end, it was still shit.

As she stepped into the luminescence, Vi took one last look at the realm she was leaving behind, shaking her head disapprovingly at the general direction of the dark, monster-infested jungle. "If I'm called back here to jungle one more time, I think I'll kill someone."

Then she blinked and was standing in front of a desk in a stuffy little office, a severe young woman with long brown hair and a purple and yellow-striped top hat sitting behind the aforementioned piece of furniture—Caitlyn, her partner. The sniper looked up from the documents she had spread out, frowned, and said in that odd (because, honestly, Piltover was nowhere near any such posh-sounding peoples) accent of hers, "You've returned. I trust you haven't caused any trouble?"

"You've got way too much faith in me, lady," the bruiser drawled, pacing over to the empty doorway to lean against it rather than sitting in the chair in front of the Sheriff of Piltover's desk. She didn't like being right next to the brunette while she was being interrogated… The woman hadn't been handed her title for nothing. "Yeah, yeah. I was on my best behavior."

"Coming from you, I suppose that's something. Keep your nose clean. Dismissed."

Vi sketched a sarcastic salute with an, "Aye, aye, boss lady." before sauntering out of the office and heading down the hallway. She almost smashed into someone exiting the elevator, but when she saw who it was, she was disappointed that she had missed the chance to inflict some pain.

Jayce, the pretty boy of Piltover, had been attempting to court her boss for ages now and that was just sad and awkward. The no-nonsense Sheriff had turned him down at every given chance, but it seemed male stupidity was boundless—especially in these sorts of situations.

Apparently Caitlyn was the only woman to have turned down the Defender of Tomorrow in this town… Good on her.

"Move it, Jayce," the pinkette growled, strong-arming him aside. "Can't you see I'm busy?"

He scoffed, but merely dusted off his broad shoulders and headed away, in the direction of Caitlyn's office.

"Poor sap," the bruiser mumbled, jabbing the button that would take her to the lobby. "You'll never catch me pining after some up-tight chick—no matter how attractive."

Not that there was anyone worth pining after in this damn city. Piltover was the epicenter of innovation and invention and yet it was rather lacking in the 'attractive babes' category.

Caitlyn was pretty alright, but once again that up-tight chick thing kind of ruined it. Besides, dating (or just fucking) a coworker was at the top of Vi's 'never again' list after the sniper had torn her a new one about fraternizing on the job.

Just remembering that particular tongue lashing made the hair on her neck stand on end.

In summary, there was no one of interest here in Piltover. But that was okay, the Summoners actually came in handy with their ceaseless demands as the Rift was a perfect place to meet new people.

People like the bodacious Ahri (an exotic Asian vixen with a perfect hourglass figure to die for), the gentle Sona (curvy, cute, and utterly silent? What wasn't there to like!?), and the untamed Nidalee (what could she say, she liked a girl that could challenge her and the brunette had proven herself to be quite flexible with that spear of hers).

There was so much to choose from in other realms… Why limit herself to this one?

Vi smirked, entering the code for her hover car into the parking system. Life was great sometimes. The system whirred to life and her vehicle—a sleek black beauty with gold details—glided smoothly over to her, the driver-side door lifting open with a hydraulic hiss as it came to a stop.

"Home," the pinkette commanded, hopping into the driver's seat and syncing her credentials with the flight system. "It's been a long day and I'm beat."

"Right away, madam" Emma, the AI that ran the network of electronic systems associated with the Piltover Enforcer's credentials chirped. The program had adapted the same odd accent as the Piltover Sheriff with the hopes that the pinkette would heed 'her' advice more often. It even worked sometimes. "Did you want me to start dinner?"

"What would I do without you, Em?"

There was a giggle and Vi was reminded of a certain magenta-haired kid that had been bugging her to play all day. It was weird, but telling Annie 'no' made the pinkette feel… Wrong? No, not quite.

Guilt wasn't something the bruiser was used to.

-End Chapter-