❛     you Call that A Fight   ?     ❜    Taunting Is He,     at

unprompted.     /     always accepting   !!

@quartlet​ said :   what are rakan's opinions on cock and ball torture 400 word essay go

to understand the complexities of cock and ball torture is to understand that it is an art form now appreciated by contemporary society, scarcely touched upon by previous generations. naturally, this type of thinking can lead one to conclude that rakan’s tribe, the lhotlan vastaya, did not know nor practice about cock and ball torture. that is to say, rakan had figured out what cock and ball torture was only after coming into more contact with human society, be it other people in ionia, maybe some people from demacia, noxus, the freljord, etc. the point is, this art form was something he discovered through others. to say that rakan dislikes cock and ball torture would be a faux statement, it’s downright erroneous as rakan, for one, loves the feeling of having his dick or balls smacked until they’re red or hurting.

cock and ball torture hold a certain level of sadomasochism, the one inflicting the pain being considered the sadist, and the one receiving the pain being considered the masochist. in the psychological and medical analysis on sadomasochism, “safe, sane and consensual: contemporary perspectives on sadomasochism,” darren langridge et al. describes cock and ball torture to have directly painful activities such as “genital piercing, wax play, genital spanking, squeezing, ball-busting, genital flogging, urethral play, tickle torture, erotic electrostimulation, kneeing or kicking.” ( langridge et al., 2008 ) taking these factors into account, it must be noted that rakan is one who derives sexual pleasure from pain inflicted onto him. this is not to say that he would not harm another for sexual pleasure, but for the purposes of this essay, rakan finds immense pleasure in receiving pain during cock and ball torture. albeit he is not receptive to some of these activities, such as “genital piercing” and debatably “wax play,” he is very much an advocate of gential spanking, ball-busting, urethral play, etc. this stems from rakan’s innate desire to have all attention on him. not to be confused with accepting bad attention as good attention, cock and ball torture, as an art form, should be consensual on both sides to him, even if he must undergo some form of humiliation.

with that being said, rakan finds great joy in participating in cock and ball torture. while he opts to be on the receiving end of things, coming from the side of him that is masochistic in nature. some will argue against this idea, attempting to refute this argument with “masochism does not align with rakan’s charismatic exterior,” and while i wish to agree with them, there is a particular line within league of legends that implies rakan is, indeed, leaning towards the masochistic side of sexual pleasure. this becomes evident in one of his quotes with his partner xayah, in which they have this brief exchange:

to obtain scars, one must acquire wounds. to acquire said wounds, one must undergo pain. rakan’s acceptance of xayah’s desire, whilst sounding chipper about it, supports the argument that he is, indeed, a masochist; ergo, being on the receiving end of cock and ball torture is a high possibility than saying he has no such desire.

ultimately, rakan enjoys the idea of cock and ball torture and would willingly participate in it given the chance. thank you for reading my essay!

CITATIONS:

Langdridge, Darren, and Meg Barker. Safe, Sane, and Consensual: Contemporary Perspectives on Sadomasochism. Palgrave Macmillan, 2013.

“Rakan/Quotes.” League of Legends Wiki, leagueoflegends.fandom.com/wiki/Rakan/Quotes.

yasuo... :)     /     always accepting   !!

@windwandered​ said :   Can you heal me for once.

              another bot lane with ashe    &    nautilus as their enemies     (   how original,     how putrid,     surely the skills needed to shoot arrows    &    throw a damn hook must be so prestigious   ),     one would assume that playing safe would net victory    ;    alas,     that didn't work.     countless times has he been hooked    &    knocked airborne,     countless times had he been victim to ashe's icy arrows to protect his carry,     countless times already had he poked at them successfully    &    ran towards his carry to offer what little assistance he could.     each time failed,     albeit he's used to working with uncooperative people     ———     varus,     thou shalt not be missed     ———     the multiple quips had irked him.     maybe a little too much.

              ❛     hey,     here's a better idea,     stop running from me when you know i'm about to HEAL YOU   !!!     ❜     moment of rage,     cool    &    collected demeanor forsaken for the rare exasperated one.     the rift always has surprises for him.     rakan's intent was to scold    ;    however,     he feels a hook against his person    &    his eyes go wide.     their ults are up,     aren't they   ?      ❛     aw,     crap     ———     ❜     sixth death,     here he comes   !!!

🏆!

how do u feel abt my rakan?

!!!!! THANK UUU FOR THIS ;__;

sylas.     ///     fraying.

          𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐄,   𝐀 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑,   𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋,   𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐄 …     the wolf’s teeth snap around the wings of a bird.   it chews through feather and flesh and sinew and bone,   the crunch so loud;   but the screech,   the lark - song of distress,   drowns out all growls of hunger and whistling of weeping willows.   the wolf leaves the bird with its broken wing alive,   for someone else to eat,   for wolves do not hunt birds for feed,   so all that is left is for sport.

“      tell me about these people of yours.     ”

demacia does not hold many vastaya within their ranks,   their innate connection to magic making them much too close to the very thing the land detests the most,   and thus books of knowledge or gossip of old holds little more power than a candle to the fire sylas desires to start.

he folds a hand beneath chin,   resting elbow on knee.   golden chains are collected in lap,   heavy and familiar and a constant but awful reminder of the burdens placed upon a young boy’s shoulders.   sylas blinks slowly,   wolf - ish eyes squinting into a glare,   and despite the rays partially blinding him the evening sun is pleasantly warm against his skin.

summer in ionia is different than it is in demacia,   he muses,   for they need not worry about the cold draft brought in from the north.

“     the lhotlan vastaya.   i have heard of your wings and naught else.   tell me,   does everyone participate in the art of battle - dance,   or is it just the ostentatious few ?     ”

@feyquil          /          starter call.

              BUT OH,     MALEVOLENT WOLF WHOSE GAPING MAW bares blood of flightless bird,     what is folly if not the half - assed action   ?     intent not to feed,     intent not to sate infinitesimal hunger,     it was all for sport,     yet only a song of distress escaped nightingale     ——     what of its swan song   ?     on his stage     (   the stage you have so dared walk on   ),     such performance is averted from gaze of a predator.     fractured wing shall never be graced with flight's song anew,     fractured wing must accept fate's cruel truth    :    deprivation of freedom,     deprivation of flight   !!     oh,     dear wolf,     finish what is started,     for revenge's guiding light shall not mend aching wing,     albeit it shall grant tools to return favor    ;    wolf,     wolf,     a predator needs not its eyes to hunt.

              revolutionary who bears magic with natural ease intrigued him,     for tales have been whispered of     (   the unshackled wolf,     free from the cage that once barred gift of magic     —     like a bird that sought freedom    &    found its calling despite its clipped wings   ),     fear    &    admiration stirred for one that is at forefront of pivotal rebellion.     what is rakan to make of this   ?     verily,     some humans possessed natural affinity for magic,     thereby the silencing of this one's gift not too different from his own cause he so voraciously devoted himself to.

              a gray area is conjured at the conception of such a thought    :    whilst their relations clung onto appearance of being amicable,     was that truth itself   ?     is he to doubt one whose aspirations align with his own   ?     or shall admiration be exhibited through look    &    actions   ?     he doesn't know.

              perchance it's the cant of his head the denotes initial confusion,     only to be cleared up at mage's clarification of his query.     though the sun continues to set beyond horizon,     its dying rays paving way for glimmering moonlight's rise from opposite direction,     rakan's features brighten up with raised brows    &    momentary open - mouthed smile     (   soon closes into regular grin,     for those pearly whites may show some form of aggression     ———     something he wishes to avoid with his ' guest '   ),     they are enough to rival the radiant sun that elates ionia's people.     as rakan sits cross - legged,     elbows resting on either knee,     his posture shifts with intrigue,     leaning forward a bit,     maybe too eager to talk.

              what better is he at than talking,     after all   ?

              ❛     not everyone's as great at battle - dancing as i am,     that's one thing we've gotta get settled.     ❜     much too confident statement delivered without any thought on repercussions of his words.     just like him.     ❛     not everyone participates in it,     not as far as i'm aware.     ❜     source of knowledge for his own tribe   ?     probably not.     ❛     i like to think of it as an art.     the best art that comes from it are the bodacious ones   !     the ones who put heart    &    into their battle - dancing.     you need the flow of battle,     the flow of rhythm,    &    the HEART of magic.     ❜     at least,     that's what his style has embodied.

sylas.     ///     unshackles.

               ❛ surely, you must jest, ❜ he mutters, imperative. leading a direct and mindless assault into the enemy territory without elaborate planing beforehand doesn’t exactly sit right with him. he’s done it before and it almost lead to his demise. after all, despite their ostensible ignorance and the ever so present feigned harmony, demacians never dive into a battle without a plan of action. and part of that mindset has stuck with him. doesn’t take more than one failure for him to become tenfold wary for the prospects of another battle. to his misfortune, they always seem to be prepared. be it day or night, his targets are always attentive of incoming ambushes. 

                ❛ they may be ignorant, however, they’re not stupid, ❜ he lectures, his voice stern and steady. it doesn’t take him long to shoot rakan a diverted glance, his brows arched in feigned disbelief. ❛ if you wish so, i can put you in the front lines. you’re too fervent a fighter, after all. ❜ for yet a few more moments, he keeps up the guise of disorientation, purposely trying to garner some kind of conflicted reaction from rakan’s part. not soon after, laughter finally comes forth. ❛ amusing, truly. come, i’ll go over the scheme with you again. ❜

              war is cruel.     he knows this.     no matter how entertaining each battle was,     no matter how much he laughed in the face of the opposition to evoke some form of ire that appealed to some sort of base desire to see others with bloodlust in their eyes for none but him,     war was still a tragedy.     from tragedy,     life will be born anew    :    hearts can sing in unison again for peace,     those whose wings had been maimed may soon find flight again,    &    freedom's fire may be rekindled once more through their unified actions.     this is a battle they,     together,     must fight.     no matter the difficulties that lie ahead     ———     alas,     when the enemy is versed in dealing with those who excel in magic     (   why fear what you can't understand   ?   ),     the scales are tipped against them.     what was once a leveled playing field is now an uphill battle,     each step meticulous.     maybe now he understands,     even if only a bit,     why his idea might not be of huge value.

              ❛     the front lines   ?     ❜     only typical for him to have a perplexed look on his face at that,     remain in a perpetual conflict,     rubbing at his chin    &    humming as if even entertaining the thought.     to remain quiet is to remain without an answer,     &    that's just rude.     he opts to speak again.     ❛     you want this pretty face to get hurt by a demacian soldier in the front lines   ?     naaaah,     i do a lot better just being from behind.     you get me   ?     ❜     soon after,     laughter.     a relief,     really,     their leader wasn't a stranger to humor.     it's enough to elicit a small chuckle from rakan.     ❛     alright,     alright.     just make sure it's easy to understand,     yeah   ?     none of those weird tactic words or whatever.     ❜

actually let me annoy u guys does anyone want rakan in their inbox

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.

unprompted.     /     always accepting   !!

@blightyh​ said :   nathanos vc: hey ugly

you really have to stop talking into the mirror like that, learn self love & all that jazz u know   ?

@feyquil​ said:

defender of tomorrow? you need to defend your hair from whoever’s giving you a haircut like THAT!

martel swears a vein in his forehead his about to pop; as they stand, he can almost see it, the headlines—bird vastaya gives defender of tomorrow a heart attack! wow, what a great way to make his return to piltover memorable.

instead of letting anger get the best out of him, jayce approaches the vastaya with a smile (it’s more a show of his perfect pearly whites than a proper smile, but who really cares? he certainly doesn’t—). leaning in, he presses his index finger to the lhotan’s bare chest. “–you are so very lucky i can’t make you into skewer without ruining my reputation, bird boy, but lemme tell you something–” he grins, then, and he’s a far, far cry from the man on the posters. “there’s more than one way to skin a rabbit, or in your case, a parrot.”

@feyquil don’t fucking play with ric as your support. just don’t do it, i had to force him out of support for me.