[ I Really Don't Think I Have An Excuse For Making This Nsfw Besides 'holy Fuck I Wanted To Write This' ] - Blog Posts
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 ? ❜