❛     i Don't Really get It.     ❜     far More Differences Than He'd

OBSESSED WITH THIS I NEED TO IMMORTALIZE IT LDFHKJDFLKJFG

unprompted.     /     always accepting   !!

@quartlet​ said :   ❛ it appears the canary has flied only to fall. ❜ he speaks as though his breathing is not laboured. mismatched. parched. vividly, he sees vermillion blotted against orange, against yellow. the gun is empty but it will always be a part of him. ❛ will you dance for me one last time ? ❜

              SWEET IRONY SHALL FOLLOW FLIGHTLESS BIRD,     even through the perilous illusion,     fallacious belief that one may so grant him wings,     will irony edge closer    &    closer 'till truth's dulcet instrument presses again his chin     /     one whose bewitching feathers captivate the audience,     his audience,     shall revel in such vivacious festivities,     where all gaze at him as a beacon,     what can quell the undying worries dwelling within their hearts   !!     his dance    &    his song are a solo performance,     acquired entertainment comes not from their mirth,     but their modest acceptance of he as the heart of the party.     a dancer whose dance is unique,     distinct,     charming,     their eyes were not a godsent,     it was a mere normalcy that he indulged in    ;    wherever he went,     wherever his voice spoke,     the audience,     too,     would follow.     he was the flightless canary believed to hold the freedom of the skies.     /

              solo performances must be maintained as such.     basking in the glory of desire is not criminal in of itself,     one time flings must be accepted as a norm     (   being deemed epitome of beauty came with perks that,     to reject,     would be a rejection of beauty itself   ),     for love,     while possible,     is capable to be a saintly blessing or a dreadful curse.     a misstep serves as naught but detriment towards his performance,     cooed melodies delivered as chaos's cacophony,     the illusion will fall    &    so shall he.     to fall in public is to accept shame.     to accept shame is to forsake rakan.     himself.     //     then why,     oh,     why must his heart beat for masked man,     perfection's disciple,     whose faux whispers     (   harmonious they're not his   )     allure with every intent   ?     why must every aching part of his body gravitate towards him,     murmur supposed name,    &    accept him as suitable pair for an enchanting duet   ?     is this ok   ?     ———————————     this is not love.     

              what they have,     this is not love.     love is sweet.     love is not a curse.     love is not meant to cause misstep,     love is a guiding light,     warm,     brilliant   !!!     love is granted power to protect another.     love is permission to press ear against chest    &    listen to soft bumps against chest,     a heart beat that insinuates life    &    glory ahead for two   !!     love is not the traveling pair that has accepted an imminent death for one.     love is not the way legs wrap around waist,     pressing into him with haste    &    incisors sinking at soft flesh,     biting to mark what is rightfully his.     love is not the amalgamation of their mewls permeating thickened air around them,     each moan reverberating from rakan's throat growing louder,     stronger,     inflicted with a passion he swore himself to not fall to.     this is not love,     this is not love   !!!!!!     THEN WHY DOES IT FEEL SO DAMN GOOD   ?

              ❛     guess i did fall.     i fell for you.     ❜     such is the means of life.     to fall for perfection's embodiment is to render himself subservient to his will.     beauty's incarnate must fall for perfection to rise.     a stage may hold two,     yet one starring role shall prevail successful.     one actor is to hog the glory    &    fame with the name under the production they worked on.     their continued act,     while recognized,     must come to an end.     they both knew.     death's icy touch hid behind mask,     each meticulous digit that traced his chest at earlier times evinced that.     rakan did not care.     to feel alive,     to be granted illusion of flight with jhin,     was an eternity whose end drew near.     he's not afraid.     ❛     it's going to be our last dance,     isn't it   ?     ❜     life's hue will no longer bless his eyes.     darkness lied near,     awaiting for its stealthy embrace,     believing itself to be unexpected.     but rakan's breath is heavy,     teeth sunken into jhin's neck,     marking a memory for him to remember    &    remember the man that evoked sweet music from him.     he wants jhin to remember each delicate yet rough touch at his hips,     the way thumbs drew circles around them     ———     each thrust that served as a deceptive truth    :    that they were near one,     that this conjured pleasure was real.     (   all of it was real.     this was coming.   )     ❛     let me give you something to remember then,     baby.     ❜     presses chin down against gun's curved barrel,     intake of breath before a shaky exhale escapes him.     he smirks.     ❛     &    you make sure that they remember me when i go out,     yeah   ?     ❜

???     ///     portaljumps.

        ❛ i know you ! ❜     she starts, chiming in on what appeared to be perfectly enjoyable silence— but where’s the fun in that ?  nothing, of course !  a hop, skip, & a jump— & a portal— close the gap between her & the bird-man.  she shows up uninvited, obviously. what other way does one surprise somebody ?   she had yet to figure that out.   ( along with the art of subtlety— but don’t tell her that. )

          ❛ i’ve seen you before, you’re the fey-dancer ! r-r-r-r-r-akan !  did i get the accent right ? well ? ❜  an eager expression is painted upon young features— she’s looking forward to his favourable reply !

@feyquil·.

              not oft will he be in the mood for nothing but sweet serenity    &    the natural silence of the forest,     craving naught but some shut - eye    &    a visit from pleasant dreams.     (   what shall the mind conjure up this time in this dream land of his   ?     perhaps a world where peace reigned    &    he could spend time with his beloved,     or a world where all recognize him as the embodiment of beauty.   )     alas,     it's all but a distant desire now,     what with the sudden noise from boisterous child.     there goes his sleep.

              ❛     huh   ?     oh,     yep,     that's me   !     the one    &    only r - r - r -r - rakan   !    you got it right,     kiddo.     ❜     albeit sleep's his ultimate goal,     maybe entertaining curious child for a spell wouldn't hurt.     he can only hope slumber revisits him later.

god damn this peacock up in here CHEATIN' cheatin

i told the world i’m single now. mind ya business   !!!!!!!!!!!!

unprompted.     /     always accepting   !!

@yuanfena​ said :   yasuo lifts a tentative hand , pad of his index brushing along the underside of rakan's fur tipped ear - a near imperceptible friction. " hm " a quiet hum , " sorry " he adds as he slowly lowers his hand back to rest on his side , corners of his lips tipping upwards , " couldn't help seeing if they were as soft as they look "

              often are feathers considered most important aspect of him,     usual for them to be at center of another's attention,     considered as the most beauteous aspect of his person     (   every part of rakan is beautiful,     he is beauty itself,     no such thing as flaw on his exterior   ),     for their colors were warm    &    their surface velvety,     heiled by the many onlookers as a demonstration of a softness fabricated by nature's divine hands.     all appreciation welcomed,     for it was praise,     verbal or not,    &    he liked that.     /     one may consider touch itself a minute act,     but not him     ———     no,     its significance amounted to greater than initially perceived,     perchance approaching insurmountable in his eyes,     as it served as generous indicator that his allure was effective.     that others considered him meritorious enough to be granted attention through curiosity's means.     it sated his blatant desire,     a need for some form of praise.     /     such is customary when it came to feathers,     but what of these ears,     whose softness went unnoticed,     whose condition kempt for the sake of flashy appearance,     whose silk - like surface had never been touched.

              how foreign is touch's blessing    &    how abrupt   !!     /     not a thought of that desire had crossed mind in a while,     though upon receiving it,     it elicits the softest hum imaginable,     vocal vibration brushing against lowest tonality,     leaning towards singular digit 'till     ——     ugh.     golden opportunity,     transient as it was,     had been revoked,     an apology in its place.     the only apt response   ?     a huff     &    brief groan,     interlaced with displeasure.     /     yes,     foreign was that touch at first,     though he enjoyed it.     ear's twitch is slight,     head cants to the side,    &    azures shift to scan caramel before moving onto the rest of yasuo's features.     though,     rising grin is most pivotal change     (   infectious,     capable of making rakan's pursed lips curve into minuscule grin,     compounded with brief chuckle   ),     it was home to a boundless curiosity     (   rakan thought so,     at least   ).     who is he to deny a friend such an implicit request   ?

              ❛     y'know,     ❜     characteristic lilt makes itself present in voice,     innate rhythmic tone,     befitting of dancer    &    singer alike.     ❛     if you wanted to know whether or not my ears were soft,     just ask   !     ❜     carefree,     not a drop of anger in his voice    ;    even now,     he is cool,     he remained mischievous,     he liked having his ears touched.     head tilts ever so delicately towards yasuo,     overt invitation through nonverbal means,     he can't just say no to that,     right   ?     ❛     you can touch 'em,     go ahead.     take is as a thanks.     what for   ?     dunno   !    but,     i'm sure i owe you some form of gratitude.     ❜

Confess something you've thought about me on anon

its my god given bisexual right to be dramatic

              ❛     you call yourself the boss,     but isn't that just a title you're hiding behind,     or something   ?     they usually say guys like you are the weakest of the bunch.     pretty interesting,     ain't it   ?     ❜       ///       @halvett​

boss.     ///     halvett.

          “   PEOPLE  LIKE  THAT  ARE  ALL  talk  most  of  the  time .  Pretty  bold  t’  assume  I  care  about  what  they  say  ‘cause  lemme  tell  ya :  I  don’t  hide  behind  titles .  Someone  wants  me ,  they  get  me .  Usually  prove  ‘em  wrong  then .  ”

              ❛     gotta say,     that's one way to look at things   !     ❜     is it really   ?     or is he providing vocal filler to continue irking him.     he's aware of whom he's talking to,     what dangers lie ahead if he's to act chummy with someone who's not particularly friendly.     but that's just it.     danger is a thrill,     to perceive ire rising on their countenance     (   &    perhaps bait a swing   )     brought him the most pleasing laughs.     this was no different.     ❛     but are you as strong as you look   ?     even without that title   ?     'cause if you ask me,     you seem pretty run of the mill.     ❜     corners of lips curve into a sneer.     he's enjoying himself a little too much.