Would You, Maybe, Possibly, Perhaps Want To Dream With Me?

unprompted.     /     always accepting   !!

@placeabo​ said :   “ you will find worse people here than where you’re from. you should go. ”

              what lies in the depths of these murky waters,     what secrets are there to be found in the porty city of bilgewater,     was there certainly any treasure he could find viable to enhance his own beauty   ?     truth be told,     he doesn't care.     a simple curiosity is enough to allure him away from the familiar lands he so traveled,     that's how it's always been.     did he,     necessarily,     want an absolute answer to his questions   ?     no,     rakan just does,     thinking about any of his reserved for after the fact.     he's bound to have heard the many dangers that exist within this city     ——     but all is well,     so long as he makes it out alive.

              ❛     thanks for the concern there,     buuuut,     ❜     rakan appreciates it,     the warning,     that is.     perhaps he should heed the advice    &    leave here     (   maybe the thought even did occur to him the moment he set foot in the city   ),      albeit he's not one to leave so easily when there's an insinuation of entertainment.     that's what danger was to him,     a promise of something new,     something fun.     if his dance isn't recognized here,     then surely a new title could be created while here,     right   ?     what's more fitting than a persistent battle dancer   ?     ❛     i'll be fine,     trust me.     i'm a little slippery,     the people here won't be able to catch me.     ❜

              ❛     ouch.     that looks like a nasty wound.     ❜     is making such a statement appropriate upon seeing stranger suffering in silence   ?     in the solitude of sacred forest   ?     he believes so.     silence of the forest a pleasant sound to accompany any particular moment,     but to grant one an opportunity to fill said silence with his voice   ?     perhaps that's a blessing in of itself.     he does not hesitate to embark with a hesitant gait,     as if to exhibit innocuous concern whilst maintaining a safe distance to not lose his life so easily to a human.     ❛     you,     uh,     need a hand there   ?     i could probably help you,     but that's a huge probably.     ❜       ///       @kyunai​

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.

my support wanted to learn how to play Xayah so we ended up w/ what is essentially a personality-swapped bird duo

"you're a bird right?" brow raises, chin held high as it always did. calloused fingers hold out what appears to be a bunch of chocolate eggs. "here, thought y'might like these then."

              ❛     oh   !?     ❜     maybe he should find it a bit unsettling,     the mere thought of a gift for him being chocolate eggs.     sure,     he's technically half bird if one were to give any specific labels to his person,     but no consideration is given to it.     his focus is on the captivating chocolate eggs,     curious    &    amused by the sudden kindness from sett of all people.     he snatches them,     shoves them into his mouth,     bites them     (   sure,     there's some chewing,     if anyone would call it such.     for the most part,     however,     it's nothing but a horrifying scene is what it is   ),     then swallows.     ❛     thanks for the treat,     i'll see you later   !     ❜     if he lives to see the day,     of course.     pray he can digest chocolate.       ///       @calledcard

oh yeah here’s the whole mun v. muse deal!

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.

pit's king.     ///     halvett.

          “   PEOPLE   SAY   THEY   DON’T   LIKE   violence ,   ”   begins   Sett   as   though   speaking   to   the   elements ,   whichever   one   of   them   may   be   willing   to   listen   ———   and   rubs   his   knuckles   against   his   palm ,   “   but   they   all   watch .   ”   And   sure   enough   it   feels   like   someone   has   been   watching   him   drag   the   faces   of   some   smart - asses   (   should   he   even   bother   calling   them   muggers ?   Cowards ,   maybe ,   nothing   more   than   that   )   through   mud   of   the   cold   city   streets ,   all   stealthy   and   secretive   in   a   way   Sett   is   far   from   familiar   with .   He   stands   to   his   full   height   again ,   hands   clenched   into   fists .  

          “   SO   WHOEVER’S   OUT   HERE   GETTIN’   an   eyeful   ‘a   this   better   say   hello .   I   was   never   good   at   hide   ‘n   seek .   ”

⇢  SETT  &  RAKAN .    /    @feyquil​ .    /    STARTER   CALL . ( FT . A CANON QUOTE . )

              watch they do.     to marvel at the spectacle of violence is to become a part of the audience,     witnessing knuckles coming into contact with another's face,     knocking out a tooth or two,     it's unique to that type of performance.     it is a dance that requires brute strength,     burly individuals that could easily instill fear into a layperson.     who better at this fatal dance than the king of the pit,     the boss everyone has whispered on    &    on about for his strength   ?     (   what show he truly puts on.     a meat head to the very end of coincidental confrontation.   )     sett's dance     ...     is it calculated,     or is it blind rage that overcomes his being   ?     curiosity may kill the cat,     but a bird's vantage comes from flight alone.

              ❛     not good at hide 'n seek   ?     ❜     finally,     he speaks,     blessing very atmosphere with his voice once more.     talking is his forte,     one of many gifts.     ❛     probably 'cause you're not supposed to punch those you find.     ❜     around the corner    &    he's in full view,     grin plastered on his lips.     mischievous.     not looking for trouble,     but to thank for the show.     or is silent appreciation far superior   ?     ❛     you did a number on those guys,     though.     not bad   !     i'm impressed.     ❜     despite his praise,     distance is maintained.     albeit rakan holds confidence for his own escape tactics,     he opts to be careful around the boss.     /     to become his enemy is to take part of the play,     to be on his stage.     this deadly dance is not for him.     not yet.

unprompted.     /     always accepting   !!

@bloodthrrsty​ said :   " a lot of color, and a lot of shouting doesn't keep you from being catfood. so why don't you try taking it more seriously. "

              ❛     try taking it more seriously   ?     ❜     such an impertinent accusation   !     were the vibrant hues of his feathers,     very ones that garnered the attention of any    &    all that dared cross paths with him,     not enough   ?     shall a plumed vastaya forsake the loving colors of a warm summer     ———     blending into the sea's delightful greens near the tips of his feathers     ———     for the sake of being ' serious   ? '     no,     no   !!     beauty does not bend its will so easily,     it is carefully constructed    &    upheld by time,     objective beauty like him can't change at the discretion of others.     no,     he remains cool,     collected,     not a care in the universe,    &    that star provides everlasting gifts for all.     so long as a job is done,     appearances    &    the volume of his voice don't matter.     never have,     never will.

              ❛     you take things way too seriously   !     ❜     a gradual crescendo within his words,     rising    &    speaks with a drawl just for emphasis.     he is the antithesis of a passive,     hushed person     ——     they could not handle an audience's eyes,     whereas he craved it,     sought it for success   !!     ❛     i'll be fine.     if i haven't been turned into catfood yet     ...     ❜     hums as his a hand is drawn towards own face,     singular digit tapping against the side of his head,     knowing grin curving at his lips,     smug,     for he knows he is elusive    &    can make any escape with how swift he is.     everything he did always had a dash of pizazz.     ❛    chances are,     it ain't gonna happen any time soon.     ❜

Well…It’s not what you see.