𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐞 !

yasuo.     ///     flowihnd.

         “  WHAT ?  CAN’T  A  HUMAN  WATCH  the  sunset  by  his  lonesome  without  it  being  considered  strange ?  ”  Perhaps  it  isn’t  the  most  orthodox  way  of  doing  so    ————    but  perching  himself  atop  a  tree  branch ,  flask  in  hand  and  nodachi  resting  across  his  knees ,  is  a  better  alternative  to  the  ground  (  and  the  people  )  below .  There  is  a  whisper  in  the  air ,  like  the  echo  of  a  distant  wind ,  that  speaks  in  ways  no  other  force  in  this  world  can   ——   and  with  the  familiar  comfort  of  alcohol’s  warmth ,  the  incoming  night  will  be  much  easier  to  bear .

         THAT ,  AND  THE  VASTAYA’S  UNEXPECTED  company .  “  You’re  thinking  I  could’ve  just  picked  the  ground ,  right ?  Hm .  Less  dangerous ,  sort  of .  But  I  do  like  living  on  the  edge .  ”         (  @feyquil· !  )

              ❛     it is pretty strange though,     don't you think   ?     ❜     yet who is he to dictate what's strange    &    what is not   ?     is he not the most eccentric guy all of ionia praises precisely for how unconventional he is   ?     tight - lipped hum emits from his throat,     only serving as a precursor to the subsequent attempt of climbing the tree     ——     fails once,     twice,     (   loud thud    &    whine indicative of such   ),     yet it is the third attempt where his plan has come to fruition   !!     he's now perched on a lone branch near yasuo,     only then realizing he can't even see him,     not even if he turns his head.     it's unfortunate,     buuuut     ...     ❛     a seat like this means you should be watching the moonrise,     not the sunset   !     ❜     proceeds to find a more comfortable posture,     legs crossing     ———     one over the other     ———     followed by lax limbs raising,     hands meeting at the back of his head,     digits interlacing    &    serving as a headrest     //     perhaps too carefree,     to focused on relaxing over the potential threat of falling down.     HOW UTTERLY RAKAN.

              ❛     what's that about living on the edge,     though   ?     gotta say,     life's fun with a little danger.     or,     in my case,     a lot of danger.     ❜     life is much too short to be concerned about the potential harm that could come out of it    ;    rather,     it's the entertainment that is far more rewarding,     seeing one come after him only to fail miserably.     even now,     he wonders if he's at risk of meeting the edge of yasuo's blade.     heh,     he'll cross that bridge if he ever gets to it,     the wind may be swift,     but not a swift as his dance.

goggles.     ///     yi-dashi.

Starter for @feyquil

Yi lurked at subtle distance from Rakan, only half aware that he was staring. Normally he didn’t care for incidental places passed along his way, or the celebrations they hosted. Normally, however, festivities weren’t accented by the flurry of dance, and the richness of Vastayan magic. His goggles had been caught, and there they remained to watch. Now, when all was done, he just had to think of something to say that would justify his prolonged gaze.

“… You certainly have the spirit of performance in you.” Yi commented eventually, when he found the right moment to approach. His lenses rolled with micro-adjustments, invisible candles seeming to flutter behind the fixtures as he grasped for his beard, “In a literal sense, perhaps? I could not say much to that, though this much I can say: You must dedicate a lot of time to your craft, yes? If not, then you are a raw talent the likes of which I have yet to see. I do not suspect that is so, however. I stand intrigued and impressed by any sort of dedication to a skill.”

The Bladesman offered a swift dip of his back with the last thought, hoping no awkward silences would find him when he rose again.

              dance is an art that must not be underestimated.     some may view it with scorn,     they may perceive each move futile,     fruitless,     &    as naught but hedonistic movements whose only purpose is to serve one's own sense of pleasure    &    enjoyment.     but,     oh,     it's more than that   !!     far,     far more than just that     ——     these festivals granted dance its opportunity to shine in the spotlight.     under that beauteous,     setting sun,     there is rakan at the center of these festivals,     allowed a moment for his song    &    dance to captivate an audience,     for their eyes to remain on him     (   oh,     how the rekindled fire in their eyes sated him   ),     for their cheers    &    jubilant grins to be for him,     caused all by him.     dance's intricacies are understood by he,     lhotlan vastaya whose dance continues eliciting the elated claps,     he is their beacon,     the epitome of being carefree,     to simply enjoy each moment.     his dance is as invigorating as it is inspiring.     a breath of life bestowed onto them by this art he's meticulously perfected to his standards.

              as his dance comes to a close,     a singular limb is brought up,     graceful    &    unbothered in its movement as it dramatically remains above his head.     held in place for a few moments,     as if to prolong their praise,     only to then transition into a theatrical final bow.     the crowd that once gazed    &    cheered for him begin dispersing,     their smiles a reminder to rakan    :    god damn is he good at what he does.     once he's no longer the center of attention,     it's his cue to leave,     to find the human's delicate sweet,     the chocolate he's long since craved.     such is the plan,     until he's approached by a man from the audience earlier.     huh,     he looks pretty cool.

              ❛     wow,     that's a new one.     ❜     chuckle emits from his throat,     pearly whites visible with the oncoming grin.     praise isn't uncommon,     it's welcomed at all times,     but to this degree   ?     he's rather flattered,     perhaps not only because he was mentioned to have the spirit of performance,     but the simple acknowledgement of his hard work     ...     he kinda likes it   !     ❛     thanks   !     what can i say   ?     i put a lot of practice into my dance,     gotta make sure it's beautiful    &    perfect,     just like me.     i can't settle for less.     ❜     it's his source of pride,     one of many sides to his vanity.     ❛     name's rakan by the way,     goggles   !     but,     you knew that already.     at least,     i think you did.     ❜

              ❛     you're telling me that i fucked up,     but come on,     it's not so bad   !     at least you didn't get hurt,     right   ?     i'll be fine.     ❜      ///       @prodigal-ezreal​

RAKAN 

↳THE CHARMER

jhin.      ///      quartlet.

WHAT LIES YONDER THIS FALSE FACE  ?   what lies beyond any pound of flesh,  ruddy and rotten,  awaiting oblivion and only knowing the subtle kiss of decay at every waking moment since birth.  as far as most folk are concerned,  this perfect grin was his true face.  carved by his own hands,  fashioned by him and him alone.  no others could match it,  nor replicate each contour and porcelain edge that now looks back at the vastayan,  forever ebbing and flowing.  oh,  but he has so many others.  a weeping mask.  a furious mask.  a melancholic mask.  one set of eyes peeled atop another,  awaiting the day they will be molded into something new.  perfect.  pristine.  staic cold. 

❛   you may call me jhin. ❜   the name rolls off the back of his tongue,  moulded and screaming,  colouring the blinking spaces between them in a bloody violet.  the sound is accompanied by the dipping of a bow.  he practically purrs,  voice already entangled by an unseen manipulation that distorted and deepened his already heavy throat.  there are no other syllables.  only one (   and a thousand others  ).  only one chiming sound that taints the air,  intermingling saccharine sweetness and lavishness fitted for a nobleman’s wrist. it sounded like an omen but also a blessing.   khada jhin postured himself all too well,  so much so that it was so horribly frightening,  in the way he could come off so very pleasantly despite the underlying eerie gleam that travelled up the slope of his cloak. 

he knows the significance of a name.   perhaps that is why he pondered on giving a false one,  he has so many already,  it would be easy to string together fair - sounding chords.  no matter.   his head dips in a sidelong glance,  the cherry red wine of his gaze not once breaking from  summer blue.   ❛  now i have given up my own,  it is customary that you give yours. ❜

              PERFECTIONISM'S IDEOLOGY IS A DANGEROUS ONE,     demanding the utmost of one,     some may see it as motivator,     others will reprimand selves over inability of being able to reach that impossible hope,     faux    &    shining,     bright    &    warm for a deceptive comfort,     it was all a mistake.     /     none survive its depths,     that darkness's grasp,     no matter if metaphorical,     maintains steady grip on their being     ———     forget the corporeality,     it is the spirit in which it all lies.     with such low spirits,     they drown in a pool of doubts,     drown,     drown,     drown   !!!     /     but not him.

              his name     (   jhin,     was it   ?   )     ...     there is nothing he knows about him,     sans the name.     he is a stranger,    &    rakan ponders of the mask,     what it would take to crack it,     to see eternal grin,     etched onto the surface of what he deems as jhin's face,     crack.     /     that curtain has not been raised yet,     not 'till the show starts.     desire's urge brazen,     dictating a hasty act without thought,     take the mask off     ——————     he relents,     impatience strong,     yet is it not more fun to entertain himself with said impatience   ?     ponder,     ponder on what murderous intent could be evoked,     see meticulous man,     following perfection's decree,     fuck up in a search for vengeance   ?     ah,     how fun is the thought.     his time to strike is not now.

              ❛     you'd like to know my name   ?     ❜     an opportune moment to introduce himself,     make his name known to stranger that has not heard of whispers    &    praises of the dancer whose charms were everlasting,     whose love for party    &    freedom were what made him distinct from the rest.     /     has he noticed   ?     the flow of his voice when attached to each word,     each sound,     how rhythmic    &    natural it all was   ?     (   curiosity,     she is his reason,     she is what allows for radiant smirk to bloom,     as charismatic as sunlight.   )     ❛     a pleasure to meet you,     jhin,     i     ❜     slightly does he lean body forward,     limb at his side raises dramatically,     pads of each digit facing bright blue skies above,     &    he pauses.     dramatic effect.     in hopes of a laugh   ?     to mock   ?     who knows,     rakan just does.     ❛     am rrrrakan.     ❜     query answered with best intentions,     he now bends forward,     limb lowering,     'till a successful bow is given.     if he is to give his name,     it's only fair he makes it as flashy as possible.     all eyes on him.     even if an audience of one,     eccentric antics are never abandoned.

              ❛     finest dancer you'll ever meet,     ❜     now,     he gravitates towards masked man,     striding in an all too calm manner,     perhaps too mischievous for his own good.     ❛     that,    &    i'm known for     ...     ❜     upright at first,     though he opts to slouch forward once more,     as hand reaches to gently hold exposed hand,     perhaps the only natural part of him in rakan's eyes.     own hand raises jhin's,     toward rakan's face,     near his lips,     a true gentleman's greeting,     a kiss pressed against back of his hand all that's missing.    in its stead,     the threat of one with sneering lips,     curving upwards in its every joking intent.     he is coquettish for the thrill,     for his second quality,     ❛     my charms.     some just call me the charmer.     lucky you,     ❜     subsequent vocal vibrations are mirthful,     a chuckle to accompany this demeanor he's adopted.     cerulean seas afixed on eternally smiling mask,     daring to challenge the crimson roses that gazed back.     ❛     many would kill for a moment with me.     ❜     &    he retracts his hand,     taking a step back,     returning to his own personal bubble,     previous upright posture,     hand resting against his side.

hc.   rakan cares about xayah. rakan cares about xayah. rakan cares about xayah. this is something i have to stress, namely because if there's one thing i know rakan is willing to do, it's absolutely anything for xayah. there's the fact xayah knows him well enough to say "rakan doesn't take death well," and whether or not that's in general or not, rakan is still able to kill if xayah were so to say it. even then, he doesn't ever lose how charismatic he is—he doesn't lose sight of himself, because not only is he comfortable with himself, but he knows that it's himself that xayah fell in love with. just as he's fallen for xayah bc of who she is. she might not be as emotionally intelligent as rakan, she might push herself to her limits and rakan absolutely hates it when she doesn't stop to take care of herself, but rakan still loves her. he supports her. he'd die for her across any verse if he were forced to do so. it's an unquestionable truth that no matter what, rakan cares deeply about her, just as she does for him. that even through the pain they both go through, emotionally, he's there to support her, just as she's there to support him, and that's an important aspect of their relationship that shouldn't be forgotten.

additionally, rakan is NEVER going to take off the skull with xayah's feathers. ever. this is more specific to a verse where he's lost xayah ( as in, she's dead ), but the point stands even in the verse where he's together with her: he's not taking it off. to him, it's not just the memories of the times he spent with her, it's also proof of their love. it's evidence that they were meant to be, that what they had? it was real, by fucking god it was real and no one's taking that from him. this is dwelling so much into a verse where he's lost her but i like. promise. it's deadass not something he's willing to negotiate, if rakan's to love again—if he can even find that strength himself to trust in someone that much again and be assured he doesn't fail them too—they have to accept not just him, but him and xayah. rakan is unequivocally connected with xayah, even after death. no one, no one is taking that away from him.

unprompted.     /     always accepting   !!

@defensator​ said :   so YOU are an eleven? hah!

              ❛     yeah,     did i stutter   ?     ❜     oh,     look,     a smirk curves at his lips.     he's pressed the right buttons    &    he's gonna keep at it.     ❛     come on,     if you want to be an eleven,     you gotta have better hearing than that,     old man   !     or is age starting to catch up to you   ?     ❜

🏆🏆🏆🏆🏆🏆🏆🏆🏆🏆 obviously ???

how do u feel abt my rakan?

MARS OMG.....ARE U TRYING TO GIVE ME A HEART ATTACK??

unprompted.     /     always accepting   !!

@iixesha​ said :   "Your jawline is better than Jayce's not sure why its a debate"

              ❛     exactly,     someone gets it   !     ❜     is this the time to be boastful of his own looks   ?     absolutely.     though rakan holds confidence over his own beauty,     though he knows that no beauty in piltover could ever compare to the bonny features he,     as a vastaya,     holds,     this truth is only reinforced by the opinions of others.     that,    &    ekko's words were an additional fuel to the fire,     continuously keeping him at the top of beauty's hierarchy.     ❛     don't get me wrong,     jayce's jawline isn't bad,     but it's nothing compared to mine's.     plus,     why spend your time watching someone with graying hair when you've got feathers as colorful as mine   !!     ❜