Anyway Be Like Rakan And Stan K/DA Y’all Xoxo

performer.     ///     quartlet.

AMBIGUOUS TILL THE LAST,    it was his cloak,   his skin,  his shield,  his everything.   lingering doubt always wore itself well upon the faces of those who seek to peer in,  to gaze until every last droplet is revealed.   far better to live as a dream than to live at all.  or at least,  that is what comforted him,  dismal as it may be.  khada jhin never performs without reason,  though oft times art requires no reason in being,  no purpose in merely existing.  art is,  and so he is.  he shall always be,  haunting the streets of cobbled houses belonging to a no - name village in zhyun.  devils do not seek reason,  they seek what they thrive for,  and thus he shall exist eternally,  eternally,  inside the nightmares of all those who have come to know him. 

❛  i’m sure you are simply dying to know.  ❜   his tone is languid,  terribly languid.   an undying smile curling artificial lips forevermore until the day it cracks open or it is torn away by bruised fingertips  (  he wondered sometimes,  if such a time might come to pass,  though the dream is quickly dashed by visions of bleeding jaws and threaded necks.  they bloom wildly.  bursting from bone and blood vessel   ;  magnificent  ).  for now,  rakan is neither a thorn nor a threat.  perhaps he is both though he has not yet pricked at the flesh enough to draw forth the virtuoso’s true ire.  what is one fool compared to another  ?  what is the sun when compared to the yawning darkness ?   oh,  what wonder. 

❛  you will find taking certain precautions might one day save your skin in the long run,  dear boy. ❜  his words are meant to burrow beneath,  wearing teeth that snap and snicker between twists of petals.  everything about khada jhin is a performance.  whether or not it is agonising,  is yet to be seen,  and for the vastayan that day might never come.  though he may be swept away by his curiosity all he likes.   ❛  best not to tempt fate now,   no ?  ❜

              such a profound level of serenity his voice encompassed,     a natural ease     —     sickeningly so     —     both in movements    &    voice,     a spark of envy may find itself growing,     blooming at the heart of a certain vastaya.     it is mystery to him if what ears hear are reality    ;    more so,     is the drawl in voice merely imagination,     auditory illusion,     or factual perception   ?     curiosity,     once enchanting    &    pure,     begins its conquest of mind.     a plague does it become that affects every corner of self     ———     nonetheless,     glee prevails behind it,     hoping to discover what truths may lie behind man enveloped in mystery.     despite aching desire to know,     he relents    &    decides to break ice,     know first secret     (   if one could call it that   )     of man behind mask.

              ❛     lucky for you,     i love to tempt fate.     ❜     that he does.     why else would he remain near evidenty dangerous character   ?     most would back from treacherous individual,     turn tail    &    return home,     to safety's warm embrace,     but not him.     a taste of danger would usually equate to a taste of entertainment,     a taste of fun.     successfully evoking ire    &    annoyance from one who maintained calm demeanor would be a fruitful endeavor.     for what reason   ?     none at all   !!     it is action without reason,     entertainment sought in most peculiar of areas     ❛     i'll tempt it right now    &    ask    :    what's the name you've got   ?     either the one that comes with the mask,     or the one behind it.     i'm game.     ❜     yet another shot at attempting to unravel the intricate web of mysteries that lie behind masked killer.     smile,     smile,     for those secrets may not yet be within reach,      albeit a stubborn vastaya knows naught of giving up.

              &    he takes opportunity to allow fate to guide limbs towards front of artisan's path,     finally attaining desired destination    :    a blockage in his path,     hoping to garner necessary information to dispel the mystery of name,     to elongate conversation.     fated stranger,     stay a while   !     travels may make one dreary    &    desire respite at vilest hour.     come,     stick for a chat.

meme.     /     accepting.

@quartlet​ said :   o we doing this???????? okay [ blindfold ]

              TO DANCE UPON THE FLAMES OF DANGER had been a viable way of producing entertainment,     be it evoking ire from men that had no control over own emotions,     thus constituting their subsequent violent attempts at ceasing life's song from blessing vastaya's ear     /     alas for them,     he does not so simply allow one to intervene,     his death is not nigh,     it is a whispered tale amongst the laypersons that believe each deed he takes,     each course of action seized,     is a death wish that facilitates death's chilly embrace.     ah,     how such could not be further from the truth.     /     life's song is one he's heard for oh,     so long,     no matter her repeated melody,     no matter how each verse is similar to another,     there was enough to decipher one note from the other,     enough knowledge of what makes the world go round that could be attuned into her performance.     she may be her own orchestra,     but rakan's attention will not falter.     for if a double bar drew near,     the end would only be evincing itself.     the climax of her piece had been reached.     it is reaching a velvety pianissimo,     each sound growing more silent     ...     yet rakan smirks.

              her song plays in the back of his head,     but for how long   ?     he opts to toy with fire again,     to lavish touches upon certain maestro's body,     to admire the scrawny stature that had been capable of doing oh,     so much.

              he knows,     he knows of the dangers that lurk within his course of actions,     he is astutely aware of how that gun,     tailored to his sense of fashion,     is loaded with the bullets of his undoing.     one.     that is all that's needed for him to become a beauteous work of art,     his feathers aflame    &    each limb in his body feeling the burning sensation as each part of him contorts into a phenomenal arrange of roses.     yes,     only he is capable of making scarlet liquid flowing through him to adopt the exterior of petals from beloved roses.     

              fingers delicately admire biceps,     gripping,     testing for a specific reaction.     to evoke even one noise,     a pleasured melody from jhin,     a sign that he enjoys this.     what comes next     ...     it's a blur.     one moment,     rakan's hands are roaming across clothed body,     an overt attempt to entice him,     to see if a virtuoso may so easily succumb to lust,     see him in a more vulnerable light.     /     there's one absolute truth he's come to accept,     that jhin himself is a poison he must not drink from,     that to bare any sort of heart to him may prove to hold dire consequences,     for a tale of love    &    care shall not prevail at the end of this story,     at the end of their story.     he cares naught for it.     if khada jhin is the chalice filled with very wine that held a transient moment of euphoria,     very one many warned rakan of to not drink from,     for death lies at the end of this cursed drink,     he would drink from it regardless of their pleas.     owed to his confidence in hearing life's song     ...     owed to his insatiable curiosity that wanted more of jhin.     more.     MORE   !!!

              it was to no avail.     sight had been relinquished,     albeit not permanently.     rakan finds himself on his knees,     blindfolded,     breath erratic for a moment as he attempts to recollect his memories of what occurred for it to lead here.     nothing.     a fool too lost in his own pleasure to connect what happened,     now he is left to hum,     wonder at what jhin plans to do.     the only man that could kill him had the upper hand here,     the only man who could so easily grant him chance to hear the end of life's performance holds the gift of sight,     even through that mask.     even then     ...     rakan smirks.     there is no attempt to remove the blindfold,     he does not stand up.     for now,     he shall play the part of an obedient nightingale    &    allow his song to do the talking.

              ❛     a blindfold   ?     ❜     intonation evinces his inquisitive tone,     as if judging this turn of events.     he isn't.     he likes it.     all it takes is a grin to know.     ❛     didn't think this was your style,     but i can't lie,     i'm digging it.     ❜     amused hum reverberates at his throat,     thinking it's time to be more bold.     verbally,     at least.     an offer,     if anything.     ❛     so,     tell me     ...     you gonna use my mouth now,     or what   ?     ❜

aight since i saw some interest, here’s a league of legends rpc discord server! :)c

be sure to read the rules!

the fuck’s a reply? writing...? bitch i’m gonna kill you

fictional kiss things that end me

being unable to open their eyes for a few moments afterward

one small kiss, pulling away for an instant, then devouring each other

pressing their foreheads together while kissing

speaking normally, then after the kiss their voice is hoarse

guys furrowing their brow when kissing passionately

staring at the other’s lips, trying not to kiss them, before giving in

running their thumb over the other’s lips

when they lean forward a fraction as if to kiss the other person, then realize they shouldn’t and pull back to stop themselves

ripping the other away - “no we shouldn’t” - but when they kiss them again they moan and hold them close

one sliding their hand into the other’s hair slowly

their entire body freezing for a second when their love kisses them

accidentally being forced inches apart from each other, staring at each other’s lips, and just before they kiss someone pulls them back apart

when one stops the kiss to whisper “I’m sorry, are you sure you-” and they answer by kissing them more

a hoarse whisper “kiss me”

then licks their lips and says “please”

meme.     /     selectively accepting.

@shadowhelmed​ said :   *drops down to one knee* [ choke ], my liege

              this was bound to happen.     /     they stand at opposite sides of a battlefield,     life's game has dictated that they become one another's enemy,     for their causes    &    beliefs lie in conflict,     sparking desires for war    &    battle,     for one side to prevail victorious with erroneous perception of said victory coming from a just background.     the ends do not justify the means.     a canary must sing nature's song,     hear her reverent melodies that stir devotion    &    love for her creations,     for the wild magic whose freedom directly affects all life around it    ;    there is no question to it,     it must be left intact.     to limit such for another's cause is to rebuke nature's teachings,     it is to manipulate her benevolent will    &    transform an amiable love into a malicious force   !!     to commit atrocities all in the name of an order   !!!

              notwithstanding a resolute heart that wishes to paint all a part of said order as malevolent,     there was kayn who proved to be distinct.     perchance will he acknowledge that it is the folly of his own sentiments to become involved with one so closely associated with an order he's devoted himself to abolishing,     though the initial intent was to deceive.     this veneer attached to rakan's face found more uses than simply charming,     the act of befriending a foe for intel is just,     for is it not a fool that shall be punished for misplacing trust so carelessly   ?     but who must bear the title of fool   ?     kayn   ?     no.     even if original intent was to deceive,     even if their friendship had been found on initial lies,     that will disappeared the more he came to know him.

              each conversation served one absolute purpose    :    bring to light the plans of the order that threatens his home,     that threatens the magic coursing through these divine trees,     the humid air that felt refreshing no matter the time of day.     all what was brought to light     ...     was a newfound care for him,     came with a silent denial,     an inner conflict where he rejects these sentiments,     while a side of him advises him to accept it.     accept he cares for kayn,     that whenever the frown on kayn's lips curved into a smile,     no matter how small,     its power to brighten room was indubitable     ———     that whenever he bared his heart to rakan,     rakan would accept it,     he would not shatter this trust they've built,     knowing that trust itself is fragile    &    can never truly be recuperated if broken.     each time they gazed at one another,     each time dawn threatened with sun's calling,     rakan was aware of his own feelings    :    the feeling of not wanting to leave,     that sentiment of i want to protect you.     a force that cannot be trampled by time itself,     one that life cannot wish to understand,     no matter the desire for chaos    &    conflict,     the force of love prevails within rakan's heart even in war.

              now     ...     they lie in bed,     kayn atop rakan's form,     pressed deep within him,     hands placed against hips,     steady rhythm adopted to make things easier for him.     to call this just sex would be a sin in of itself,     it would be a blatant lie,     kept in control,     for to grant it autonomy in their relationship would prove disastrous.     /     though communication is a struggle,     though the path of what they have is rocky    &    it may never come to perfect fruition,     that's ok,     they have each other.     to tread upon dangerous,     mysterious path with another is a risk far greater than going alone,     rakan's pride shall give him needed strength to move forward.     /     pressing against kayn is an act to have more of him,     for him to press deeper without fear,     it is rakan's manner of agreeing through their passionate act that kayn may do as he pleases.     then,     comes the unexpected,     hands come to wrap around his neck,    &    he gasps.

              ❛     whoa,     what're you     ...     ❜     perplexed at first on his actions,     then digits begin to press down against his next,     efficaciously preventing oxygen to flow from air to lungs,    &    albeit his hands come up to grab kayn's wrists,     subsequent words betray his actions.     ❛     don't stop.     ❜     conflicting feeling of pain    &    pleasure,     an amalgamation of both is seeded at the root of his heart,     it grows    &    grows until it's overflowing.     it's not passion,     it's not trust per se,     but by far is this one of the more audacious acts he's ever allowed.     to trust someone with hands around his neck,     it's new.     he doesn't want it to end,     he won't allow it to end.     ❛     keep going,     keep choking me,     keep fucking me.     i'll     ...     tell you if it's too much,     i promise.     ❜

“do you like boys or girls?” yes.

                  You didn’t kill all of us, and that mistake will be your undoing.

unprompted.     /     always accepting   !!

@obsidiantias​ said :   “you do not seem fazed,” his tone is even, but his gaze does not betray his curiosity, despite how he reigns in his expressions. claws (once, they had been talons--) manicured into shape far more similar of that of human nails, zelgius looks away, into the distant crowd, nonchalant. "i suppose you must have seen others, then, not unlike myself."

              ❛     was that what you were worried about   ?     ❜     in spite of how dense many perceived him to be     (   &    how such truths lied within his audience that understands how information,     no matter how blatant,     cannot be processed at times.     if he perceives lack of connection,     then no such connection existed in the first place,     that is reality   ),     rakan had the capacity to observe    &    spot conflict between sentiments,     dependent on how it's presented on his exterior    &    the intonation of his voice.     zelgius was tough to crack,     an impenetrable fortress,     walls crafted by none other than him,     a mix between vastaya    &    human.     was such a truth reprehensible   ?

              ————————     NO.     shunning them was a commonality embraced by many,     but when has rakan ever abided by what they perceived as truth.     albeit he doesn't put much thought into complex matters such as those,     there's no reason for him to follow such arbitrary thought patterns.     betrayal,     abomination   ?     don't give him that crap.     one's duty in life is to not just be,     but live.     to live as a mix of the two     ...     where's the wrong in it   ?     what part did zelgius have to control any of that   ?     (   more than he realizes.     not once did sky blues grace hands with a glance,     'till now.   )     

              ❛     plenty.     ❜     when was the last time he'd met someone like him   ?     possibly long ago,     the details are hazy,     but rakan knows himself enough to say he's had encounters with others,     who they,     too,     had vastaya blood,     whilst having human blood course through their veins.     despite conjured prejudices,     they are not different in any way.     to him,     they are attuned with the wild magic from one side,     grounded by normalcy on the other,    &    even then,     that was their normal.     no such reason for him to judge zelgius on it.     ❛     who you are,     doesn't matter to me   !     those folks over there,     ❜     gestures towards distant crowd,     confident grin blooming onto his lips,     ❛     sure they look similar,     but betcha no one's dance is the exact same.     just similar.     even if each dance is different from the other,     there's nothing wrong with that in my eyes.     ❜     finally,     does his head turn to take a look at zelgius's face.     what complete control he had over the emotional side in him     //     what have you endured   ?     bare your heart to me.     even a tattered heart can be mended with support.     //     ❛     so give me a smile,     alright   ?     otherwise,     i'll have to make you dance with me again.     hope you've been practicing   !     ❜     hopes his foot isn't stepped on again.