#and fcrgiven

[seeksmoon]

☽     𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩  𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

name  :  alune.

nickname  :  lunie,  lune  ;  moonbeam  (  by  @fcrgiven  ).

gender  :  female,  albeit  being  detached  from  her  physical  form  made  her  indifferent  towards  it,  thus  she  considers  herself  more  or  less  nonbinary  (  &&.  uses  both  she / her  and  they / them  pronouns  ).

romantic  orientation  :  panromantic,  she's  also  pansexual!

preferred  pet  names  :  anything  moon  and  night  related  ;  cute  &&.  cutie  will  make  her  melt.  all  princesses,  queens,  goddesses  and  angels  too,  though  it's  very  much  verse  dependent.

relationship  status  :  verse  dependent,  but  by  default  in  a  relationship  (  more  like  complicated  situationship  )  with  @fcrgiven's  yasuo.  there  are  also  other  very,  very,  very  important  connections  :  despite  her  somewhat  one - sided  crush,  she  can  develop  feelings  for  other  persons,  @withinchains'  kayn  for  example  :)  i  usually  write  alune  as  obsessed  with  the  unforgiven  &&.  oftentime  sad  that  her  feelings  aren't  noticed  or  reciprocated,  which  opens  many  ways  to  other  characters  to  comfort  lunie  or  help  her  deal  with  her  fascination.  that  gives  alune  a  wholly  new  perspective  on  certain  aspects  to  romantic  conections  and  can  lead  to  changing  her  mind  regarding  her  partner - to - be.  other  notable  relationships  include  a  very  private  romance  with  @deadn30n's  yone,  kept  secret  from  everyone  :  the  band,  the  public,  the  press.  and  also!!  i'm  plotting  a  little  bit  with  @oriphical........  

opinion  on  true  love  :  i  know  these  are  romantic  headcanons,  but  romance  aside  —  isn't  alune's  and  phel's  love  the  truest?  she's  experiencing  the  purest  kind  of  affection  on  a  daily  basis,  all  the  time,  every  second.  for  her  not  to  believe  in  the  concept  would  be  insane.

opinion  on  love  at  first  sight  :  yes,  yes,  yes!  alune's  a  seer,  a  future  teller,  so  i  believe  she  can  fall  in  love  seeing  someone  for  the  first  time  because  it  would  also  be  easy  to  see  their  future  together!!

how  ‘romantic’  are  they?  :  very.  period.  she's  a  dramatic  soul,  seeking  deep  connections  and  bonds  —  though  in  her  own  way.

ideal  physical  traits  :  she's  fond  of  guard  dogs  —  bigger,  taller,  scarier,  contrasting  to  her  fragility  (  basically,  able  to  protect  her  physically  ).

ideal  personality  traits  :  she  adores  possessiveness  and  dominance  that  easily  turns  into  submission  at  her  request.  loyalty  is  a  must  and  so  is  endless  devotion.

unattractive  physical  traits  :  none?

unattractive  personality  traits  :  stupidity.

ideal  date  :  talk  to  her,  spoil  her,  adore  her  —  more  than  usually,  and  she'll  be  content.

do  they  have  a  type?  :  as  mentioned  above,  but  i'll  say  it  again  :  guard  dogs.  one  that  are  submissive  in  a  way  a  livestock  guardian  is  submissive  to  the  sheep  it  protects.  someone  who  would  willingly  do  anything  for  her  without  her  uttering  a  word.  strong  persons  :  be  it  physically  or  mentally,  though  she  leans  into  the  former.

average  relationship  length  :  very  dependent,  as  i  haven't  explored  many  relationships  with  alune  yet,  but  i  headcanon  them  to  be  long  lasting  ;  if  alune  places  her  feelings  onto  someone,  it's  not  easy  for  her  to  stop  adoring  them.

preferred  non - sexual  intimacy  :  physical  touch  —  guiding  her  through  a  crowd,  holding  her  hand,  stroking  her  hair  ;  anything  that  screams  "  she's  mine!  ",  even  though  it's  her  who's  the  owner  in  the  end  :)

opinion  of  public  affection  :  yes,  yes,  yes!!  alune  loves  being  worshipped  and  treated  with  adoration  shamelessly,  no  matter  where  she  is  and  with  whom.

past  relationships?  :  another  verse  dependent  subject,  albeit  in  her  modern  verse,  she  had  one.  i  say  she  wouldn't  settle  for  anything  less  than  princess  treatment  and  nothing  less  than  at  least  matches her  brother's  efforts,  but  in  reality,  alune  tends  to  pick  assholes  :  it  wasn't  a  very  long  relationship,  but  it  was  very  important.  the  heartbreak  forever  shaped  alune's  perception  on  relationships.

[inkisionary]

🖌️?

[deadn30n]

@fcrgiven liked for a heartsteel yone 🍃

❝   glad you found the time to come see me.   ❞   Yone gave something of a grin in his younger brother's direction, arms folded as he leaned the full weight of his body against the door frame.   ❝   i haven't heard anything from true damage in a while, but i'm sure you guys are busy, aren't you?   ❞   Yone is equal parts ecstatic his brother can share in a similar profession as himself, as he is that he became just as successful as Yone himself. while Yasuo's method of mixing is unique from his own, there are elements in each brother's style that compliments one another, and only the most skilled musical geniuses might be able to pick up on that.   ❝   want to go out for lunch?   ❞

[seeksmoon-arch]

@fcrgiven ☽  continued  from  here.

             𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐋𝐄  𝐎𝐅  𝐀𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐄'𝐒  𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒  instantly  searches  for  someone  to  rescue  her,  but  today's  been  awfully  quiet.  heartsteel  members  do  have  their  own  flats,  of  course,  but  this  particular  apartment  is  rented  for  them  all  to  live  in.  great  for  pr,  too  —  to  record  them  messing  around  all  the  time.  and  it's  not  even  staged.

yet  today,  there  was  only  her,  aphelios  and  yone,  and  she  didn't  even  know  the  last  ordered  food,  and  if  he  did  —  why  not  with  the  delivery?  or  why  didn't  he  ask  phel  or  lunie  herself  to  pick  it  up?

interesting.

alune's  not  complaining.  she's  a  huge  fan  of  true  damage,  albeit  never  expressed  so  to  yone;  never  asked  for  an  autograph,  nor  for  a  meeting  with  the  other  band.  now,  she's  face  to  face  with  their  producer.  but  not  only  that.

beats?  aphelios  makes  beats.  great  ones.  but  yasuo  is  a  legend.  it's  a  completely  different  level.  it's...  it's...

she  stands  there,  mouth  slightly  agape,  with  the  eyes  of  a  deer  caught  in  the  headlights.  yone  said  he'll  be  back  shortly.  phel  is  taking  a  nap.  entertaining  the  guest  is  entirely  on  her.  console  in  one  hand  (animal  crossing  on  phel's  basic  coloured  switch),  she  has  taken  the  food  filled  bag  with  the  other.

the  kitchen  is  in  the  open  space  in  their  living  room,  so  alune  takes  a  step  back  and  fully  lets  yasuo  in.

❝  do  you,  like,  want  to  eat  with  us?  ❞  she  asks,  shyly.  ❝  i—  i  don't  know  how  much  yone  ordered.  i  didn't  know  he  ordered  food  at  all.  but  you  can  have  mine,  i—if  you  want.  ❞

the  little  confession  is  said  quieter  and  almost  breathlessly.  oh  moon.  OH  MOON.  yasuo  is  h e r e.  he  came  in.  he  follows  her  to  the  kitchen.

she  feels  her  heartbeat  quicken.

and  also  the  embarassment  of  looking  like...  like this.

[bushidont]

Watari hadn't been hunting actively for Yasuo for a while. It had been his obsession only a few years ago. Trying to bury what he'd gone through by focusing on something else. Wanting to force the deserter to feel the guilt Watari had been feeling about his own failure.

With the help of Poof and some friends, he had given up his hunt for some time, almost forgetting about it until recently. Rumours had spread in some backwater towns and he couldn't help but feel his gut twist as those memories flooded back. And thus, had he decided to follow those leads with the help of his ioninu.

"Poof, are you smelling it? Are we close?"

He asked the dog on which he rode. Large enough to carry a human or two but with a personality more gentle than a cloud, Poof borked softly. "Good."

Poof picked up speed, nearing their prey. Watari's palms started to sweat. What could he expect? No, he had to keep his head on straight. Confront him. Take him back. Be celebrated. Be rid of your guilt.

"Yasuo!" Watari called out as he spotted the wanderer. That ponytail stuck out like a sore thumb. "I have come for the unforgiven!"

Watari dismounted Poof and motioned for his pet to step aside, a safe distance away. Poof reluctantly obeyed, his hair raised but mostly focusing on Watari.

"Face me!"

@fcrgiven

[weavewithin]

Small starter for Yasuo (@fcrgiven).

𝐔𝐧𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐬𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐥𝐲, catching glimpses of silver in the cloudless night, brushing up against furrowed brows that told of a mind fixated on something faraway from the present moment's serenity. She sat beside her Master, overlooking the glowing town in a gentle silence, knowing she would soon break it.

" Master, " she started, in the tone she'd often used in Ionia when something had troubled her. " I've been thinking, and, well... "

Her faltering voice waned into a long inhale, in an effort to loosen up the nerves which she now found rather tangled. She looked at him, into the sharp eyes that could be so kind, and knew that if she did not speak up now, she would only have a lingering wind and regret with the next sunrise.

" I want to come with you. I've been in Shurima for many years now, and... I feel I need a change. I think our reunion here was no coincidence, and I must weave this thread further. That is, if it would be fine with you, Master. "

Her own words coiled up the threads within her further, rather than unfurling them. She turned away then, fearing her unrest leaking into her words and spoiling this moment. There was something angry within her, seeking her voice, seeking to ask why. Why did he push her away in Ionia, why did he push her away now, why did he not ask her to come with, or stay with her? Why did she have to be the one to ask, to care?

[bikmui]

.closed starter | @fcrgiven

There was salt upon his tongue when at last the ship docked upon Ionian shores, the morning sky bleary; clouded with promise when, for the first time in days, he stepped upon solid ground. And though his were feet accustomed to the falsity of any promise, be it a deal or the very earth beneath his feet, so too did it lurch beneath him - the sway of the sea following him, even now.

Sharp eyes squinted. This was a weakness yet to be rectified, and were he home in the Immortal Bastion, this weakness would surely have brought steel through the gut; coinpurse cut from his side; and his name left for the scurrying rats.

Yet none seemed to notice. To his right, three sailors stood, raucous laughter and something Talon did not understand repeated in ever-louder; ever-hysterical tones. The amusement of sailors did not interest him, but his lack of understanding grated him nontheless.

Perhaps that was precisely why Katarina - disgraced daughter of his Master, the General - fleed to Ionia. Perhaps she had imagined, however foolishly, that his search would stop at Noxus' borders.

(Had her emotions truly addled her so, he wondered. Memories of missions beyond Noxian borders; the honed edge of their blades and a lingering disapppointment, an unwelcome intrusion. They once had hunted together - theirs, blades in servitude of the General and in servitude of Noxus. Yet judgement had since fallen and he, named her executioner, would not - could not - seek respite until he saw his mission through).

It was precisely her emotions that would guide him to her. The lessons carved into them both ensured survival no matter the environment, yet someone like her, accustomed to a life in the city, would be loath to give up its conveniences.

Hide someplace remote and Talon would be unable to follow - who could whisper of her existence, where none had stepped foot? Yet she would instead hope to lose him in the forests, or overpower him - and circle back to outskirting villages where daily troubles were worth more coin than the occasional stranger passing through.

(Disgust welled within him, to think like her. Yet cold rationality demanded dissection of the target, no matter how irrational).

Dwelling upon Katarina a moment longer - she would surely head inland from Fae'lor and seek refuge in the forests. Perhaps head further south, though he doubted it, and catch him offguard if she could. Yet a river lay between him and the mainland, and he was not so desperate as to swim across.

His eyes scanned the port - yet in the bustle, it seemed that the loud (and perhaps, drunk) sailors were his best bet. His hand itched with instinct; the whisper of a memory; a life once lived stolen coin to stolen coin.

Talon had studied, of course, the Ionian tongue. But days could not make up for a lifetime. He waved for their attention (and noted, with some amusement, their surprise, as though he had not stood within eyeshot the entire time) and in stilted words, asked, "Where to... cross the river?"

[tealbeats-archived]

@fcrgiven sent: [ 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊 ] &. [ 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂 ] ? the drink is definitely something strong !

Yasuo was one the last people that Ezreal expected to hang out with; though, he was the brother of HEARTSTEEL’s producer, and part of True Damage, whom Ezreal had hung around before ( though, around Ekko, mostly ). He wasn’t sure who had the more intimidating aura, if he was being honest, but they both seemed to share it, which put Ezreal on edge a little bit. Maybe he was just nervous.

Music played in the room, and it helps calm him down a little before a drink is placed down in front of him. Ezreal is quick to take it into his hand, swirling it around idly before taking a sip, IMMEDIATELY placing it back down and scrunching his nose at it. “Dude, what is this!?” His face is twisted in one of displeasure—why was it so strong!?

“You could seriously kill a guy with this, Yasuo!”

[yunalai]

@fcrgiven from here;

annoyance wasn't quite what she was feeling.

in fact, she was happy to have an opportunity to work with her bandmate once more. if there was someone who would uphold her vision and make her goals shine, it was him. the frustration came from the fact yet another Max Martin wannabe had the chance to run his mouth about his encounter with "the demon diva" to the nearest TMZ reporter.

they could have at least come up with a better name for her.

a perfectly threaded brow arches at his mention of being able to free his plans. her bad mood fades ever so slightly when a low snort escapes her, followed by her body taking the opposing chair with practiced grace and an equally dramatic sigh.

" stop me if you've heard this one before. "

he had definitely heard this one before. at least twice.

" I wanted my video shot a certain way. got mockups done for the props, had whole sketches prepared, two outfits on the go, and this guy comes out as if he calls the shots and decides, outta the blue, to change the setting to somethin' that matches the song's tone as much as Zyra matched those pants last fashion week. "

manicured fingers rub at her temples.

" ya know the rest. I said no, he yelled, I yelled back, he insisted on fuckin' up my vision of my song, and I threw his ass out. "

" sometimes, I wonder if you plant these guys jus' to make me come ask you this every six months. "

[seeksmoon]

@fcrgiven

[inkisionary]

Yasuo's like 4 bottles in and Hwei had ONE little shot

[ferinehuntress]

◈　 ⇢  @fcrgiven　 ⋯　 Random Starter . 　　　❝ Ahri meets a new interesting figure . ❞

　⊰ ⸻ ⊱　The village was bolstered with kids running around, the shouts of adults telling them to knock it off, and a couple of dogs chasing each other. Ahri sidestepped out of the way, trying to avoid being run over as the three children didn't even notice Ahri and continued to move on. She tugged her cloak closer to her body, the white material stark contrast to the dirt and sand and the busy marketplace. Still, Ahri was just passing through and she had ensured that the illusion upon her made her look completely unsuspecting. She was practically invisible to the eye; people would look at her and then continue about their business with no care in the world.

Her human appearance was dressed as she would be, but instead of fur and tails and ears, she just looked like a normal woman in her mid-thirties, with dark raven hair falling around her shoulders loose and wild under the hood. Her gold eyes glanced about, filling the place crowded with people and animals alike. It was uncomfortable, like a humid day drowning her lungs. The smell of filth caused her nose to scrunch up, passing by a barn that didn't seem to be cleaned yet, and the keeper telling at the stable boy for running behind.

Quickly she hurried on her feet out of the way. She might look human, but her vastaya traits were still highly sensitive, including her sense of smell. So instead of staying outside much longer, she found a little tavern and slipped through the doors. Despite the chaos outside, the tavern didn't look too crowded, though it was busy. She pulled her cloak closer, as she moved over toward the counter. "Do you have some meat?" She asked the keeper as the woman put down a wooden mug. "Got some recently cooked stew meat, that suit ya sweetie?" The older woman asked, her curly brown hair frazzled from the chaos. Ahri smiled and gave a nod. "Yes please, and perhaps something sweet to drink?" A little breath left her lips, weaving through the air to charm the woman. She blinked her eyes, dusted with fondness as she waved her hands.

"of course, sweetie. The meal is on the house. Take a seat, I'll have it right to ya," She weaved along the tables, and as she passed one with a single man sitting along, a scent caught her nose. So faint, so... distant. Her button nose scrunched, sniffing again as she glanced over to look at the man who sat alone. Not only could she sense the magic upon him, but there was something that screamed Vastaya, though it was a faint smell as if slowly disappearing with each family line.

Without thinking, she moved closer to the man and sniffed at the air. Yes, that was it; it was vastaya blood. It wasn't full or even half, but she knew the smell intimately. Her head canted like a cuirous animal, despite looking human she still acted like her natural state. Ahri didn't realize just how close she was, her face just inches from the side of his neck. There wasn't any vastaya within the town, only him. Now she had something of interest as she looked over his features as if seeing if something might clue her into his magic.

[seeksmoon-arch]

@fcrgiven ; @assassincraft ☽

❝  yasuo,  we're  adopting  a  child.  this  time  it's  not  a  cat!  look,  it's  a  human boy!  ❞

[witchembrace-a]

@fcrgiven inquired:

he sits before a shallow grave marred by years of age, a gravestone well maintained to the best of his ability. the sound of rain is a cacophany of noise only combated by his mind. he prays, calloused and shaken hands clasped together. the original feeling of dirt beneath his nails as he dug the grave amidst a storm like this feeling remarkably new. "i wish you were still here," he mutters. though he doubts his brother is there to hear him. "i wish i had taken your place." yasuo weeps. the only vulnerability and show of pain he could muster; always in front of yone. "i miss you so much, brother."

it isn't a normal occurrence for him to want to visit his own grave, as it only serves as a harsh reminder of his past mistakes, his past failures. however, he happens to wander around there every once in a while, such as today, always wondering why his gravestone is so well-maintained even after all this time. and today is when he finally gets his answer, though it's not quite one that he expects to find. as he approaches the well-kept marker, the sight of his trembling, weeping brother comes into view.

he almost wants to laugh.

why, now, is yasuo saddened by his death ? isn't he the one that killed him ? if it wasn't for him, yone would still be there, right at his side. but stories don't always have happy endings. and the tale of the two brothers, one unforgotten, the other unforgiven, should have already ended by now. and yet . . . he still walks the same earth as him, though yone is merely a shadow of the man he once was. he silently slots himself next to the younger, saying nothing. just simply stares at the tombstone, doing his best to avoid any contact with yasuo.

even as a single tear runs down his face.

i missed you too, brother.

and yet that bitter, boiling anger still bubbles up inside of yone, akin to a volcano mere seconds from a catastrophic eruption. emotions mix and meld and spin, tugging his heart and mind in several directions at once. he doesn't know what to say, what to do, or what to believe, so opting for silence is his solution, even if it isn't really one. he's content to just . . . sit there.

[weavewithin]

@fcrgiven sent 🫂 to hug Taliyah.

The worn blue fabric engulfed her, just as it had half a decade ago. Back then, it had engulfed her path, her understanding. It had been a lesson that became part of her and shaped her. As the Great Weaver taught, a lesson learnt was a thread eternal. Teachings bound the world together in the tapestry it was meant to be.

Today, that worn blue was not the color of learning, but of reunion. It was warm and unhurried, not dusted with snow and mysterious. Taliyah's arms trembled where they had curled to return her teacher's embrace. Words could not describe her current joy, but they also could not describe the years of worry, longing and gratitude.

She had forgotten many things; how tall Yasuo was, where scars etched his face. It was all coming back in that flood of blue.

When Taliyah had danced under the moon, at the apex of her coming of age ritual, nobody at her tribe could step up to teach her. For the Nasaaj, a teacher was the embodiment of the Great Weaver-- a lifelong figure of wisdom and guidance. The young weaver had yearned for a teacher, more than anything, and set off to find one.

❛ Teacher, ❜ she called him, into the tunic pressed against her.

❛ Your lessons have carried me far. ❜

[bikmui]

chest + REVERSE @fcrgiven teehee

.loud & deafening silence | @fcrgiven | accepting

❛   chest .   place  your  head  on  my  muse’s  chest .   

Golden were the predator's eyes.

And though his prey did watch in turn, he was not the one backed; defiance held together with bark and the old growth of sturdy trunk.

He had wondered (errant little things, thoughts) how that stubbled jaw would feel beneath his fingers. For he was familiar - perhaps all too so - with worn leather and cold steel; with cooling blood and spilt flesh. But Yasuo's blood remained safely within his veins, and his skin remained knitted across his face.

Rough, he decided, but not unpleasantly so.

Still, those eyes watched him. Though he did not shrink from his gaze; would not back down from the challenge; something inside him fluttered too in response. Squirmed, as though his gaze could reach into him and touch that thing yet unnamed.

As though he could be seen and known, soft in the head as Yasuo had proven himself to be.

And that sweet hand of his, scarred with the memories of blades and perfection, fell lower still, following his neck to rest at the hollow of his neck. Loosely, it lay there, though the promise remained. And those predator eyes dared him too - to challenge him; give him a reason to choke the life from him and leave him for dead amidst the purple-leafed trees and the shade of whispering ghosts.

Instead, he laughed; the fond, deep chuckle that brought colour to his cheeks and something akin to frustration deep within him. Yes, frustration indeed! That he would dare look at him, as though he could with eyes alone cut away shadow and steel and ghosts and memories and find him, raw and bleeding.

"Tch." He clicked his tongue and looked away as his hand fell lower still.

Aflame did those predator eyes burn, when his gaze turned back; hand over his beating chest as still that promise coiled. For though he was a blade, so too was his hand and so too was his self and so too was the blade beside him. And beneath his hand lay the infuriating, maddening heart through which this infuriating, maddening man's blood flowed.

And oh, how simple it would be, to carve it out. Would he laugh the way he does, then? Would he eyes stay maddeningly; infuriatingly kind, as though he was taking Talon apart instead?

Would he curse him; call him a Noxian dog and haunt him for ever?

Gods, those eyes could take him apart.

And so, his palm left the infuriating, maddening, beat of his heart to instead cover his eyes; save him from the scrutiny of being seen.

Perhaps it was the boldness; the bravery of no longer being seen; that spurred him on. For it was but a breath between then and now.

Now, as the beating of Yasuo's heart echoed in his skull; ear pressed against bare chest and something that was akin to frustration once more colouring his cheeks. For the man was a mystery and though Talon knew many and had seen through many more, he somehow could not know Yasuo.

Not as the gentle knowing and the kind hands taking him apart; bloody and bleeding and raw and exposed; eluded him.

But here. Here beneath his ear lay the heart of a man who could be killed. Who would die if Talon's blade, angled just so, sliced through skin and sinew and viscera. And who would know, if the shades would not mourn him? If Talon, too, would not mourn the foolish swordsman who once stopped to aid a Noxian stranger?

And instead, there was a hand upon his head, and worn fingers carding through unkempt hair.

And golden were those predator eyes, though they closed.

And Talon was still.