Feyquil - * LIVE TO DANCE !

watch the stars with me

unprompted.     /     always accepting   !!

@stonethrown​ said :   goddamn dude just, it's been a long while since we were meming things up in TNB but I was just reading your threads on your blog for the past 10 minutes and god just, I love you and your writing like WOW i can't believe i'm actually friends with someone who writes and me reading it instantaneously cures my face acne and brings us to world peace but real talk your writing has shot through the roof and I know this is like super homo of me but keep on writing pls bc I wanna read more ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

UM AWAN WHAT IS THIS DFLJHDFHJDF YOU'RE SO SWEET THANK YOU SO MUCH??? i can't believe we went from tiger & bunny with kotetsu and prof. willow all the way here. listen though- really, thank you for your compliments!! i really want to be able to convey my feelings n rakan's feelings as best as i possibly can in my writing, since i feel like he's a character whose primarily based in his emotions ( and honestly every character i write has been like that but LKFDJHLDFHSFJ ), and delving into how complicated emotions can be and what he feels can just. like. u know. contradict w/ the way he acts n shit sometimes u gotta do what u can to survive. BUT REGARDLESS I'M RAMBLING THANK U SO MUCH FOR THIS i love u sm all the homo babe! <3

❥     𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖  𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄   𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍   𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒   .

inspired  by  devotedecay’s  non - sexual  acts  of  dominance  meme  ! send  in  one  of  these  for  my  muse’s  reaction  to  … (  add  ❝  reverse  ❞   if  you’d  like  to  see  how  my  muse  would  preform  the  action  !  )

[ shower ]   your muse joining mine in the shower.

[ choke ]   your muse choking mine.

[ kiss + soft ]   your muse pulling mine into a tender kiss.

[ kiss + rough ]   your muse pulling mine into a rough kiss.

[ pin ]   your muse pinning mine down.

[ wrists ]   your muse roughly grabbing mine by the wrists.

[ push ]   your muse pushing mine into bed.

[ rip + clothing ]   your muse tearing a piece of clothing off my muse.

[ spank ]   your muse spanking mine.

[ pull ]   your muse pulling my muses hair.

[ talk ]   your muse talking dirty to mine.

[ eyes ]   your muse making mine look them in the eyes during.

[ down ]   your muse pulling mine down by their collar / clothes.

[ knees ]   your muse telling mine to get on their knees.

[ hips ]   your muse pulling mine in close by the hips.

[ denial ]   your muse putting mine through orgasm denial.

[ many ]   your muse making mine orgasm over and over.

[ tied ]   your muse tying my muse down.

[ lazy ]   your muse lazily beginning to touch mine.

[ love ]   your muse telling mine they love them during.

[ dominance ]   your muse taking the lead and dominating mine.

[ submission ]   your muse letting mine take the lead and submitting to them.

[ humiliation ]   your muse humiliating mine, re: name-calling and verbal abuse.

[ pain ]   your muse hurting mine in bed, whether intentionally or not.

[ knife ]   your muse using a knife in bed, whether for threat or actually cutting mine.

[ hidden ]   your muse having sex with mine somewhere semi-public.

[ public ]   your muse having sex with mine in public, whee other people watch.

[ adore ]   your muse being near reverent with mine in bed.

[ dress ]   your muse having mine dress up in lingerie.

[ eat ]   your muse eating mine out.

[ sleep ]   your muse touching / beginning to have sex with mine while they’re asleep.

[ gag ]   your muse gagging mine, or or making them be quiet.

[ blindfold ]   your muse blindfolding mine.

[ praise ]   your muse praising mine in bed.

[ good ]   your muse calling mine a good boy / girl.

[ want ]   your muse telling mine they want them.

[ snarl ]   your muse growling and / or baring their teeth at mine during sex.

[ mark ]   your muse purposefully marking mine up with bruises, hickies, ect.

[ wall ]   your muse shoving mine up against a wall.

hey guys!! libra, here  —  i’m not new to the community, but it’s been a while since i’ve written here so if you guys are interested in writing with a g’raha tia / the crystal exarch. give this post a  ♥  &  a  ↻ to help get this around? thank you!! warning, this blog WILL contain 5.3 spoilers, so please follow with caution!

              ❛     you're a lot taller than me.     ❜     the fact he even has to look up is indicator enough to him.     ❛     &    yet,     i still dig it.     i consider myself a lucky guy.     ❜       ///       @carminae​

nothing concrete but i am curious. like this post if you’d like to discuss on becoming mains with my blog. i do require that it be mutual, so i’d be your main rakan while your muse would be my rakan’s main muse.

the end.     ///     quartlet.

TIME WAS NO FRIEND OF MAN,  and nor was the crumbling dark that awaited him in all his worthless folly.  so small.  so frail.  so pitiful.  the providence of god need not privy to their innerworkings,  not while the weight of a crushing supermassive black hole weighed on His side,  antimatter oozing from their lower jaws.  what is one singular atom when compared to the impossible shapes the singing of space creates  ?  paltry offerings made up carcass flesh,  so futile and so very postured against a burning black forever.  but this one sings of stars,  catching them between his teeth before bursting at bloody seams.   He has watched them.  He knows.  all he is  …  all he shall ever be  ;  moments wrapped up in seconds,  time fluctuates,  its shell cracked open for all the cosmos to glare into and snicker. 

woe  !  woe  !  little thing made up of stardust and hope  !   echoes His spectral choir,  their voices ripped straight from their gluttonous throats,  each screaming at a different pitch from another.  maddening.  all was so very maddening.  a sweeping,  nebulous substance pours out from below him,  they entangle and shimmer like the arms of galaxies cradling against the void of their death.   no clouds above.  no hells below.  there is only He in all His magnificence,  His singular bloated eye peering out from the warps and wefts of His billowing hood.  His gaze is unblinking but not unmoving,  the outer iris of His eye whirls into an unknowable blue while at the center there is a supernova buzzing,  singing,  laughing. 

❛  ShE iS gOnE.  ❜  the voice spoke again.  not quite the discordant clang of congs but instead there is an unbiting harmony found within those horrendous,  deepening notes.  this was the rhapsody of a god.  the last word is repeated by a spectral chorus,  every utterance heightens in pitch until it is bleeding :   gone  !  gone  !  gone  !  gone !    blots of darkness recede then,  revealing the golden surface in which his eye peers forth from.  there are symbols etched into the surface are unknowable and untraceable,  but when a wandering sun tilts just right,  the shock of light catches the slope of His mask.  as soon as it came,  the light vanishes,  swallowed whole by a sickle claw.  He crushes this sun in the palm of His hand.  it’s cries of pain rattle out from His fingertips like sand. 

no clemency.  no warmth.  no silence.  white noise pervades everything until there is nothing,  a warbled,  distorted clammer of entropy riding up one’s throat until there are only parched whispers of dead planets ringing around your jaws.  from behind rakan there gleams another looming arm,  spotted with constellations and translucent.  the voice pierces reality,  cutting it in two.    ❛  yOu StAnD bEfOrE mE nOw,  LiTtLe GuArDiAn.  ❜  He knows.  do not forget.  He knows !    The God Without A Throne peels back,  eye concentrating upon the tiny shape of a mortal that now stands,  shuddering.  what was once a chorus now chimes into one singular sound.   ❛   whatever shall i do with you …  ❜

              &     ALL AT ONCE,     terror's gaping maw became apparent at the cacophony of various voices,     they were a choir of death,     a choir of chaos,     imbrued with disharmony for no other purpose than to unnerve those their voices dare speak to.     //     ah,     how youth was sought for in that moment     ————     a time of peace that is a memory of the past,     too many bar lines left in the past,     too many measures past without repeat,     he has been forced to assimilate into this perpetual crescendo where all grows louder,     louder.     sought for pianissimo,     peace's silent reign,     is nowhere near,     it is an afterthought,     the conductor has different plans for him.     he is a pawn on this stage,     he is a star guardian,     last one out,     that will never be blessed by light's continued guidance,     for his fate has been set.     (   to defy fate is to defy these stars,     to defy these stars it is an impossibility.     alas     ...     he is nothing in the cosmos' grand battlefield.   )

              to be promised by whispers of the mind that this was all a dream,     conjured up by an overflow of negative emotion that plagues his heart.     how could it not   ?     he has fallen,     he has fallen.     not by his own hand,     but at the hand of others   !!!     those matters continue an existence of anger    &    wrath,     but his time to strike is not now.     his time to strike is when these whispers cease their incessant claims,     of these noises being real,     of a battered heart to face the cruel reality that awaits him    :    she's gone.     as if the forces of the universe wanted him to realize how futile his efforts were,     how such a lofty ambition cannot bear the fruit his being desires     (   he doesn't care,     he doesn't care   !!      JUST SHUT UP   !   ),     he has to wake up.

              this canary,     whose flight impaired by fate's meticulous hands,     must accept what amber pools perceive    :    he no longer dons life's hues,     her soft,     mellow colors have been drained from his person,     deprived of it by damn bastard that caused all of this.     the whites of his skin eerily creep towards a ghastly white,     absence of blood true cause behind it     ——     &     these clothes,     they are not bright anymore,     he is not the bright    &    shining rakan of the past,     the star guardian whose bright enthusiasm rivaled the stars around him.     no.     he is the sun crushed by relentless hand,     turned to sand,     its cause for naught.     /     is this his destiny   ?     to shine bright,     only to be crushed in the end   ?     is he to be what gives her the necessary light for purity's renewal inside her,     or is he to be a bright sun,     a star,     that shines brightly above the rest,     only to have its light crushed into nothingness.     ...     does his dream have any success in sight   ?

              he stares.     he stares,     he stares,     he stares,     for he believed a god's form to be benevolent,     to be a haven that one could turn to in times of need,     he doesn't see that here.     there is a mask.     there is an eye.     there is him,     there is the end.     if every story must have its finale,     then he who controls these stars with ease is it.     if starlight is the beginning,     then he,     who can turn a sun into sand,     star to stardust,     is the end.     he is no pawn of terror,     he is terror.     the prospect alone,     the reality of it all,     is confirmation of that.     rakan may doubt himself,     but he cannot doubt what he knows is fact.

              ❛     what     ...     the     ...     ❜     there's an expectation for him to finish his sentence,     to release the last word with all his might,     to shout the profane word with shock,     but he can't.     fear's grasp is tight around his neck     (   or has it coagulated at his throat   ?   ),     he's left stupefied at cosmic being before him.     albeit it seems he is immobile,     he finds strength,     courage,     to take few steps back,     to create ineffectual distance between them,     as if that made any difference.     perhaps it's simply the illusion of such that provides even the smallest of comforts.     ❛     i     ...     really did not sign up for this.     ❜     his being quivers,     though he catches himself    &    stops it,     appearing stiff.     he fears him,     but to at least contain this fear     ...     may be his key to survival.

meme.     /     accepting.

@obsidiantias​ said :   [ adore ] (^:

              how'd they get here   ?     /     fate's path had always been a mystery,     darkness shrouded the road forward,     even if it was the only road one could ever take    ;    with each step,     an opportunity for light to shine on this darkness.     with each step,     careful    &    meticulous,     solitary    &    with another,     something new each time.     be it their meeting,     no matter how long ago it was,     no matter the initial rivalry on rakan's side,     or the unending truths that came to light with each conversation.     it was always something new between them.     /     now,     here they lie in bed,     future uncertain,     but they care naught for it    ;    no,     no,     what mattered most was the present.     what mattered most was each other.

              admittedly,     he prefers their positions to be reversed,     for him to be on top ,     to be marveling down at zelgius    &    every little detail he could note.     (   that smile made of honey reserved for none other than him,     the doe - eyed gaze he sought for,     they were a treasure rakan cherished.   )     now   ?     he finds himself back to mattress beneath him,     albeit soft bed could never match the delicate touches zelgius gave him,     the way his fingers roamed over his body,     the way they danced    &    touched every part that could elicit velvety gasp from touch alone.     it's divine,     it's amazing,     it's zelgius that runs a hand over his chest,     pressing hips down against rakan's.     the intent was never to allure,     he doesn't think so,     he feels special.     fragile,     a careful treasure in supposed lover's eyes,     a temple worthy of worship through more than just dulcet vocalizations.

              not as if he particularly minded,     for the benevolent words flowed naturally,     they were never empty.     zelgius's heart delivered those sonants with a passion for him,     &    who is rakan to reject the advances of a tattered heart he cares for   ?     who is he to deny the love blooming in his heart for him,     him,     who has only ever questioned himself    &    his identity     (   they're jealous of his beauty,     they envy what they cannot have,     for zelgius belongs to no one.     even as they are together,     they are each other's but do not belong to one another.     their paths have conjoined,     decision to move onward together is of their own volition   ).

              he loves him.     he indulges in it,     in the barrage of kisses at one side of his neck,     in the traveling hand that rests on the other side.     rakan breathed,     a reminder that this is real as he cranes his neck,     granting more access,     desiring more from him.     more of those soft kisses,     more of that new sensation pressing against him     ———     it's hard.     it's hard to breathe consistently,     his breaths were short,     edging closer to panting than actually breathing     ———    &    he basks in it.     basks in the glory of this newfound feeling,     distinct from the many times he's bed someone    ;    their touches were rough,     he was rough,     previously uncaring    &    meant naught more than to satiate lust's fire,     reduce it to a dying ember.     but not with him.     lust may be a factor,     yet it is never at the forefront here,     it is their love that grants them ability to be careful,     to treat each touch as magical,     to truly care for not just the act itself,     but the indubitable fact that it's with each other    &    they care,     they care.

              ❛     zelgius     ——     ❜     out of breath,     the reverent touches,     the meaningful whispers of praise     ...     he yearns for a perpetual loop of this moment,     for time's sand to come to halt    &    grant them this quiet blessing    :    to remain with one another in their room,     away from public's eye.     for their act to go on forever.     to love him uninterrupted.     it is a selfish wish,     one that fate will not grant,     for that alone he must make the most of it.     ❛     please,     ❜     rakan doesn't recall when his arms wrapped around zelgius,     when his sharp nails gently dragged down the back of scarred flesh,     when one hand carded through azure hair    &    grasped it to keep him close.     fuck.     ❛     keep     ...     going.     i trust you.     ❜     cerulean hues sought verdants,     yet that desire must be withheld for now,     left for the upcoming act,     their shared act of love.

[ adore ] your muse being near reverent with mine in bed.

unprompted.     /     always accepting   !!

@halvett​ said :   Don't mind him, Sett's just sizing Rakan up and down with a smile. "You really are the /biggest/ himbo this side of Ionia, and I say that in the nicest way possible."

              that's a new one.     he's never heard that word before,     not really.     there were certain terms that the humans used to communicate that he didn't quite understand.     sometimes they sounded like some sort of amalgamation of two different words,     or a peculiar instance where it was entirely new    &    original.     it was almost beautiful.     (   the humans feared them for being different,     yet they embraced these novel terms they create     ———     it's strange.     was it due to the fact it was conceived by them,     or the mere fact they got used to such terms   ?     man,     who knows.   )     it's nothing to fret over,     as their beauty could never surpass his.      then again,     he was the most eye - catching thing,     how could he expect anyone or any thing to compete   ?     even something as strange as that word.

              ❛     himbo,     himbo     ...     ❜     it's a test.     an attempt to speak it,     understand it,     process it.     such a hefty task,     his brows furrow    &    his eyes shut as he ponders over the word.     maybe if he thought hard enough,     he could garner its true meaning,     but alas     ...     he opts to adopt his own definition,     perhaps not too far off from the true meaning.     ❛     dunno what that means,     but i'll take it as a compliment   !!     ❜     hearty laugh,     followed by a radiant grin    &    confidence in his every word.     ❛     i'm the best himbo ionia's ever seen   !     ❜     yeah,     it definitely fits.