Whatever At Least I Give Good Head

varus.     ///     vengearrow.

So the Darkin have been lost to time, recorded in the annals of history as demons; debauched beasts that haunt the past, their presence in the present ever fading. The mortals say the Darkin are monstrous, when so many monsters and heroes, even wretched gods, are all cut from the same cloth. Oh, so many monsters lauded as great men. It makes Varus sneer with contempt, his eyes smoldering balefully. He has lived in the sore absence of such ignorance for so long, after all, festering with burning resentment in the repressive darkness of that damned cage. After all of his years in damnation, he has thought: it was a great mistake to seal him and his kin away instead of destroying them all, to think that they could bury their ghosts. 

“My name is Varus. I am the arrow of retribution, and I will pierce you for forgetting your kind’s sins.” He spares not an inkling of intrigue for Rakan’s charms; there is only that cold, familiar anger, and it sings to him with renewed vigor. His corrupted hand clenches around his crystalline bow, and vermillion flickers around its limbs, coursing like lightning around the center, until the shape of an arrow is formed and howling with energy. Varus raises the bow, aiming right for the heart. With this arrow, he would teach this carefree Vastayan terror and silence. “I gift you this pain to remember me by. Savor it.”

              TO LIVE IS TO SIN.     to live a life without sin is to not have live at all,     for sins come in variations,     one's sin could be simple lie to lovely maiden in attempt to charm    &    seduce her,     yet another's sin could be the blood on their hands,     reliving each grotesque,     vivid memory over    &    over,     praying for deliverance from this grief that burdens them.     ah,     the many faces he's seen,     albeit this one's unique     (   bonny,     even.     every part   ),     lusting for revenge.     how amusing the thought.     to fall for temptation of revenge to don bravado of a false justice for the darkin,     whatever that was.     how utterly wicked man can be,     how each is so interwoven with sin itself.     in his long years alive,     the cycle of sin shall endlessly repeat,    &    that only bestows more responsibility on others     —————     it is not his problem.     he is candidate free from responsibility's task,     one to laugh at free entertainment.     for once,     he is the audience.     this is no different.

              ❛     oh,     wow,     that's really cool.     the arrow looks pretty nice.     ❜     insouciant in his approach,     hand is placed atop own hip,     digits curling ever so slightly,     adopting collected posture with that sneer.     face him,     darkin,     watch as the corners of his lips curve upward,     high up,     how he truly does not show a smidgen of concern over this endeavor   !!     varus is a new source of entertainment,     the gift not pain,     but the forthcoming laughs he is to thoroughly enjoy from each missed arrow.     a dancer must be swift to survive in his craft.     ❛     i'm into pain,     don't get me wrong,     buuuut     ...     ❜     pleasant hum,     simply stepping to the side,     showing his defiance with ease.     ❛     i think i'll pass on the gift right now   !     but thanks for the offer,     varus.     rakan's still got to show off his dance moves to everyone in ionia,     you understand   ?     ❜

your art is SOOOO pretty 🥺 i iove seeing it on my dash

I truly appreciate your kind words, my good sir~

"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

for  @zackinblack

hi

🏆🏆🏆🏆 YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!!!!!!!!

how do u feel abt my rakan?

UM OK WIG...THANK U SM AAAAAA DFLHLDFHJ WE HAVEN’T INTERACTED YET BUT......WE MUST. LET RAKAN BE FRIENDS W/ LEONA

              battle dancing is one of the things he took pride in,     one of the things he has honed,     not simply out of mere interest,     but because it is interwoven with the care of his being.      dancing is freedom.     freedom is dancing.     to have one with the other is naught but a lie     (   a carefully constructed concept that would be forsaken,     for it is a mere imitation of the art,     albeit lacking soul   ).     that is his rationale for why kayn does this.     why kayn continues to train without breaking sweat,     why he perceives kayn to push himself to his limits,     why he believes kayn explains it to him,    &    despite how exhaustive it may be,     sheepish grin is all that is offered     ———     forgive him,     he hasn't processed all that information.

              ❛     right,     right,     so     ...     ❜     digits curl right against his chin,     lips coming to form a small pout,     brows furrowed as he attempts to regurgitate kayn's information to him.     ❛     you do that so that they can     ...     ❜     trails off into silence,     humming.     a shrug is offered in place of a verbal answer.     ❛     i dunno,     fall   ?     ❜     this is a mess.       ///       @shadowhelmed​

add me @ WATCH TIGER & BUNNY!!!!!#5685

nasus.     ///     shurima-demigod.

“Unfortunately, I am a bit too busy,” he said, brow raised.  “I have my hands a bit full.”

That was a mild way to put it.  If he got anymore work, he was convinced he might end up drowning.  He accepted another report from a guard, sighing as he read it over and signed it off.

“What brings you to Shurima Rakan?  Someone running from Ionia?”

              ❛     too busy for me   ?     i'm insulted   !     ❜     the exaggeration's obvious in his voice,     the mere gesture of hand against his own chest    &    step back only serves to further accentuate it.     right after,     there's naught but a smile,     a laugh.     rakan jests,     as per usual.     his antics   ?     they just don't change,     he hopes to elicit even a faint grin.     ❛     hah,     just kidding.     i just wanted to come see how you were doing   !     what can i say   ?     guess you were on my mind for a bit    &    i decided to come visit you.     was a long walk,     but hey,     i missed you.     ❜

              ❛     do i     ...     recognize you   ?     ❜     is this information that he's supposed to know   ?     are vastaya now expected to understand    &    process all of the information that is whispered    &    shared between the humans   ?     absolutely not.     hand travels short distance to rub nape of own neck,     canvas of his face colored with confusion     (   heart on his sleeve,     or heart on his face   ?     perhaps too much heart is the issue   ).     lips part for a moment,     as if to speak,     only for them to purse    &    consider his next words carefully.     to hell with it.     ❛     nope,     sorry,     you don't look familiar at all.     ❜       ///       @prodigal-ezreal​