Me: I Only Ship With Chemistry

this one too bc im simping hard

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.

y’all i need some advice. i’m in a slump rn and don’t like anything i write -- i feel like i’ve lost my voice as a writer and a lot of the stuff i produce recently i just...do not like it at all. have you guys ever felt like this? if so, what did you do to try and fix the problem? i want to be passionate for writing again, it just feels so hard now for some reason?

kayn.      ///      shadowhelmed.

      𝐊𝐀𝐘𝐍’𝐒 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐍 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐘, 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐆𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃 how his explanation could possibly be complicated for the Vastaya. As someone who’s spent nearly a decade in the Shadow Order, none of it is complicated to him—it is a piece of him, a part that he will not & cannot cut out. It comes to him naturally; envelops his form in curling tattoos & a corrupted flesh. But apparently, as Rakan looks to Kayn with supremely DISORIENTED eyes, Kayn’s explanation isn’t quite as good at his own comprehension.

      He sighs, squinting & lifting a hand to scratch at the back of his head. Rakan’s words tell him that he DEFINITELY doesn’t understand. Kayn’s hands gesture vaguely.        “ 𝑾𝒆’𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆. 𝑰 … 𝒅𝒐 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔—𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕. 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒑𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 … 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒆𝒍𝒔𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒊𝒕, 𝒕𝒐𝒐. ”        He pauses.        “ 𝑨𝒍𝒔𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝑵𝒐𝒙𝒖𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒃𝒂𝒈𝒆. ”

              ❛     but you're already great,     aren't you   ?     ❜     there's no leaps in logic,     a desire to be great is one thing,     but already being great is another,     isn't it   ?     his thought is merely vocalized without prior thought,     serving as both an independent statement    &    a compliment from the heart.     doesn't everyone see it   ?     ❛     you think nobody sees it   ?     i think they do   !     ❜     a bit too enthusiastic in his approach,     limb comes up for a hand to rub at own chin inquisitively,     pondering,     wondering,     before declaring another charismatic statement.     ❛     you're the only guy that can catch up to me    &    kick my ass,     i'm sure that's worth something.     ❜

              ❛     listen,     if someone from this noxus place is giving you a hard time,     lemme deal with them.     ❜     cocky.     way too cocky,     for someone that knows naught of how fierce their warriors are,     he's only heard tales of it,     albeit marks it off as simple fear overtaking one's heart at their stature,     not their might.     they were all tall,     after all,     though that does not equate to being strong.     he thinks this as a tall person himself.     ❛     promise i can handle it without getting a scratch.     though,     if i did get scratched,     that'd be another scar,     which isn't necessarily a bad thing   !     ❜     it only serves to accentuate his beauty,     in his eyes.

since we’re doing shipping tier lists again :}

whats  your  muses  position?

oh well, that’s that on that!

     permanent starter call.   hey y’all, here’s a permanent starter call for me to keep track of who’d be totally ok with me sending them random starters, asks, memes, or IMs!!! if you like this, you’re completely fine with me doing the aforementioned. this is exclusively open to mutuals, as per usual!

cant fuckinf write rn so heres the answer to that ask you sent in

since rakan wanted 2 be nosey, he got a look at how ekkos curiosity led to a bunch of bad doodles n studies #neeeeerd

WHAAAAA I DIDN’T EXPECT THIS AT ALL FDJHDLFKJH THIS IS SO PRETTY…these doodles are so nice and i can feel a lot of fluidity emanating from them, i love it!       ///       @chronodriven

so. we doing nsfw hcs, huh? let’s do this.

Keep reading

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.     ❜