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@ionianwanderer
Powerful hatred and rage swirl within you. They’re so powerful that I can’t tell whether or not it’s actually sadness. It’s as if you’ve never been loved by anyone. It’s as if you’re like me. // Sara; Samurai Champloo
Originally fxcethewind c.2014 ; Reestablished 2018 | Penned by Alfio
Follow the Wind | Rules | Ask
Make an effigy and stick it full of pins so you'll remember you're in this alone, you made yourself a martyr— And it feels so good to fall on the sword. It feels so good to fall on the sword—
Independent, fandom-less oc ; Ira — given form by Alfio with verses for Fantasy/D&D & League of Legends. | dark themes are afoot, discretion advised.
im so odyssey pilled rn im ngl. one thing i wanna ponder more is Yone's role in the verse and how that ties more into Sona turning to Yasuo to (what I'm assuming) finish what Yone wasn't able to finish
I like to be here alone with you. And is it really awful out of the blue? Feelin' like I'm edible, at least to you. There's nothing quite the same.
thinking about Odyssey Yas and the fact his standards are in hell
shows she misses him. through biting.
The half-tackle to his side was enough to garner a small 'Oof', and arm instinctively wrapping around his assailant. Yasuo smiles fondly, before his expression twists a bit painfully at the sudden chomp. Right, the biting— but he missed it (her...), didn't he?
"You know," he starts with such utter fondness in his words, "you could always say hello with something that won't leave a mark. Right?" Despite the wince, what is left behind is undeniably a look reserved for those who Yasuo holds dear.
me, once again taking official art of yasuo and toasting him to not be pale as fuck
cue a tipsy sigh, accompanied with an avertance of her gaze. “ oppa… “
An equally tipsy yet woeful sigh. Yasuo's still nursing his drink with no intention of doing away with it yet, his other hand propping his head up as he looks her over mournfully.
"Mira..." he starts, the liquor making it seem like there was three of her the longer he looked her way, "You— You never... got back to me about... the collab." Okay, maybe that was enough alcohol for tonight.
CAUGHT: sender finds receiver somewhere they aren't supposed to be. / from @accursedsword for odyssey verse. there better not be a ragtag crew in one of the crime lord's off-world bases he's at today... and they Better not be up to no good...
NONVERBAL PROMPTS | @accursedsword
Surely this extraction wouldn’t be a bust? Surely. It’s what Yasuo repeated in his mind as he traversed the dark halls of the base. You’d think he’d learn by now not to pick fights with entities that had about five times the fire power than the crew of the Morning Star but the pay out for the shipment of weapons traced back to this base was TOO good to pass up. But he quickly figured out the second they were close enough to pick up the base’s signal on their radars. But it wasn’t like Aatrox would be here today, of all days, right? If Yasuo just kept telling himself that, it’d be true! And it would also definitely quell the rising urgency to try to mask Malphite’s steps as he tried to slink within the shadows close behind his Captain.
“Malph, I’m begging you to be a little quieter,” he whispers anxiously while throwing a hand behind him to get the mountain of a crewmate to pause his approach. Yasuo held Malphite at arms length while staking out the storage bay, his other hand gripping the pommel of Song like it’d soothe anything about this situation. He figured, at the very least, leaving Jinx on their ship would be a good idea as long as she could hightail them out of any potential… extracurriculars Yasuo wasn’t keen on participating in. “Okay, I think the coast is clear. In and out, just like we practiced—”
Yasuo suddenly feels a grip around his forearm (...Malphite’s hand is not that big), before being yanked backwards roughly dragging out a strangled noise from the Captain. Dazed by the sudden jerk, it takes far too long for him to realize he’s being lifted up off the ground too.
The moment the shock dissipates, Yasuo can see Malphite being dragged off to who knows where by a trio of shadowy figures, with great struggle on their part. Thne his gaze shifting and focusing on the being holding him at their face level. Maybe he didn’t repeat his mantra enough—
“Oh— Aatrox...!” He’s off to a great start here, a smile feigning surprise spreading across his lips as his brow creases in a panic. “—Is this your base? My apologies, something must have gotten mixed up along the way,” Yasuo starts to trail gesturing with his hand as he speaks before pointing beyond the Crime Lord’s shoulder, “We’ll get out of your… Uh… We’ll just head out as soon as you let me down and return my crew mate to me.”
@ionianwanderer is being watched...
Marcus always told him he was paranoid. It was a good thing, then. 'That kind of awareness can't be taught,' he would say. 'It's the kind of thing you're born with.' At the time, Talon didn't argue. It felt nice for Marcus to believe so unshakeably in him, but if he was honest, Talon would have said that it was taught, just not in the training rooms of a Noxian manor. He learned to be paranoid on the streets, by being jumped and left to drag himself home with all his food for the day stolen.
He has that same feeling on the back of his neck now. A prickling, uncomfortable feeling spreads over his shoulders as they pick their way carefully through the rocky outcrop. He feels exposed out here — there's not enough trees to obscure their path, and the nearby cliffs are the perfect place to lie in wait for an ambush.
Green eyes flick to a rock face as a pebble rolls down it. If he'd known he was going to team up with the guy who has the biggest fucking target in Ionia on his back, Talon might have thought about it a little longer. "Get ready," he murmurs, barely audible, gloved fingers grazing over the blades strapped to his thigh. "This is about to be a pain in the ass."
And, sure enough, several figures emerge from behind larger rocks, while a few more appear at the top of the cliffs with bows drawn. Talon sighs. "Are we fighting? Or are you gonna try to talk your way out of this one, too?"
A hand rests against the pommel of his sword while the other sits firm atop his hip, gaze shifting lazily about their surroundings. He figured as much it wouldn't be the most ideal way to go about their travel considering the lack of overhead coverage but he'd been this way about more times than he could count on his fingers and had yet to have an issue. Suppose there's a first time for everything.
It begins with his companion slowing, falling behind his own steps, that makes Yasuo stall and squint up towards the cliff overhead. He should give the other man some credit having practically sniffed out the ambush before Yasuo could even fathom it. With a quick shift he wraps his fingers quickly around the grip of his sword and draws it from it's sheath about half way.
"I can try to talk my way out of it," he starts, throwing a half-smirk towards Talon. "They seem like they won't give me the time, though—"
In a flash, the length of his sword gleams fully in the light, holding it at the ready before him with both hands as he focuses his gaze back towards the figures creeping closer. A deep breath in and the wind already begins to pick up around him. And just as quickly as their assailants appeared, Yasuo's already taking off towards their direction, dragging both his sword and the wind seemingly along with it before sending a strong gust towards a pair of them with ease.
Make an effigy and stick it full of pins so you'll remember you're in this alone, you made yourself a martyr— And it feels so good to fall on the sword. It feels so good to fall on the sword—
Independent, fandom-less oc ; Ira — given form by Alfio with verses for Fantasy/D&D & League of Legends.
Summer Party Yasuo Exquisite Edition - Wild Rift Splash Art
[ TAKE ]: sender takes a hit meant for receiver. (pulsefire :) )
NONVERBAL PROMPTS | @essence-flux-primed
Maybe there are always things that are destined to happen. And you simply can not out run them, no matter how hard you try. But oh— they will always try.
--
“Are you a fool?!” Yasuo screams the words in a rasp with such anger, such fear as he lay on the ground after Ezreal had pushed him out of harm's way. All the feelings he thought he’d killed a long, long time ago resurfacing in an instant. A hollowness clawing out a home in his chest, an ache so painful it reminds him of when he lost him the first time. His Ezreal. Haunted by the way he reached out to him, the fear in his eyes, all of it flashing right before him again as he stared at Ezreal’s unmoving form.
It’s happening again but the only thing is this time it isn’t so sudden. No, this time it was a shot to the shoulder, too close to his chest for Yasuo to kill the doubt in his mind that it wasn’t anything lethal. But it’s enough that he can pick himself up and force himself forward through the shots that followed and hold him. Yasuo struggles but still tries to rush to him after the blast by those damned chrono-law enforcers that had sent Ezreal flying backwards. The moment he’s perched near him Yasuo musters up as much strength as his tired body could and cuts his blade through the air one handed, dragging the wind itself along with it to send a massive tornado toward their assailants. Leaving enough of an opening for Yasuo to drag Ezreal with him somewhere they can stay hidden.
Perhaps he never should have grown attached to the blond, again but different, knowing what had been the fate of his Ezreal in this timeline. Maybe he thought it’d be different. But so it seems that every Ezreal had trouble following them. Trouble just bided its time when it came for them and this one’s time was up. And yet, knowing the fate of his timeline’s Yasuo—
“You’re just as reckless as the day I met you,” he starts, clutching Ezreal close to him like he was the only thing in the world. And he was, he always was. Yasuo couldn’t bear the sight let alone the thought of losing him again. His voice shook as he spoke, “You. It could have been my time, not yours— why?”
His grip on Ezreal tightened, hand trembling while trying so hard to put pressure on the wound on his shoulder to stop the bleeding, tears spilling over and down his cheeks. With each passing second Yasuo held his breath, looking for any sign of life: a twitch in his brow, a groan, that damned half smirk he’d been so fond of for years, anything. And each agonizing second plucked every last bit of hope out of his heart, carving it out and enveloping him in a despair he had once been so familiar with years ago. It tore through every healed wound, every fading scar; tore through everything Yasuo had tucked away after ruminating for years of what would have happened to Ezreal if they had switched places, if it had been him. A sob chokes him as blood stained his fingers, the realization setting in his world is falling apart around him again and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
“Why?!” Yasuo grabs a fistful of the charred, bloodied fabric while he weeps, pressing their foreheads together in a feeble attempt to get any reaction out of Ezreal. A shaky exhale and another sob rattles him as he squeezes his eyes shut, as if it’ll make it any less real. “—I can’t lose you again. Ezreal, please.”
✮ — His ship is quick as hell. Ezreal built it from scraps to be as fast and nimble as he can make it without breaking his (very delicate) bank account. It's not nearly as quick as some of the Demaxian ships it's escaped over the years, but it sure as hell has a few nasty tricks primed and ready in case the Morning Star starts to make chase.
Which, really, they should. There's more of them than there are of Ezreal, though, and having more people just ends up slowing any operation down. That's why Ezreal works alone. It's just easier that way.
They've returned to their ship. If they were giving up, they would've stayed to refuel.
P.E.A.R.L.'s voice is not unwelcome, but the news she brings hardly makes him happy. "Don't they know the work I put into this?" He complains. "Months of stalking. Bugging their ship. Paying off informants. Really, they should just let me go." He talks to himself easily, the product of weeks spent alone, tracking the Morning Star through darkspace, listening to the conversations of the crew and chiming in so that he doesn't have to think too hard about the aching feeling in his chest. "These guys are like old friends at this point. And now they're gonna chase me?"
They won't catch us.
"Oh, I know. But it'll be fun to watch them try." In the screens on his dashboard, Ezreal watches the Morning Star lift off from the planet's surface, and can just about feel the sensors tracking over him, reporting his ship's location back to the crew. Ezreal flicks a few switches, focused on the view outside the ship, and then says, "P.E.A.R.L., can you get me audio of the command room? And navigate towards that asteroid belt we passed on the way in."
Are you going to gloat about it, Ezreal?
But she doesn't protest, and before long, the sounds of Yasuo and his crew fill the small room like music. Ezreal savours it, even humming a cheerful little tune as he taps at the screens on the command board. "Call the Morning Star. Put me on video. It'd be rude to eavesdrop, wouldn't it?"
The Morning Star had just broken through and thrusted itself out into the speckled darkness of the stars with Yasuo at the helm. Too focused to even begin to entertain the hyper-active tirade that Jinx sets about going off on about this little bastard. His eyes are glued to their scanner watching the dot fade in and out of the screen all the while gripping onto the ship’s secondary steering module like that’ll make them go faster. Malphite seems to be the only other one with any sort of urgency in the matter because you could hear him stomping around to make sure they were ready for any drastic measures. Yasuo makes a mental note to get the big guy something nice after all this (gods know they’ll be able to afford it if they manage to snatch back what was rightfully theirs). It isn’t till Jinx strikes a particularly fresh nerve in him with what she says next that it breaks his focus completely:
“He’s really got you worked up, huh Cap’n?” She starts with a tone that makes him frown, “Haven’t seen you this mad since you lost allllll those credits gambling two jobs ago—”
And there it is.
Yasuo slams his fist against the dashboard, catching a button when it comes down against the metal paneling and sets off a blast from one of the ship’s side canons into the vastness of before them. He’s going to need at least three drinks after this. More actually. With teeth bared he snaps his head to the side to bring up the holofeed of their comm link, the usually well composed Captain was beyond fed up with both them and this situation. “And maybe if you let me focus both then AND now we would actually be somewhere cushy for once,” he spits, tension held taut both in his shoulders and jaw that would not be going anywhere anytime soon.
But of course it never just ends there with his trusty pilot, who only continues to goad him. All the while she’s trying to close the distance between them and the fleeing ship even though Yasuo’s too busy stewing in his own rage and arguing with her to even realize. If only that was enough to quell the fire in him, only giving him a brief moment of respite when she points it out too. Only for a moment. The second Yasuo turns his head to peek back at the scanner to confirm what she’s saying, an incoming video request patches through their line from a sequence number he doesn’t recognize.
“Oh he’s bold!”
Jinx’s pixelated grin fills half the holoscreen and the audacity is about to send their Captain off the deep end. Against his better judgement, Yasuo answers the comm request only to be met face to face with the blond sly grin plastered across his lips (who else would it fucking be?). He can feel the anger boiling his blood now, jaw clenched with enough pressure to crack a diamond.
“You’re really doing this?” Yasuo starts before their little thief could even begin. “You’re either real fuckin’ stupid or you’ve got the biggest cajones this side of the star system to be trying this with me right now. So which is it?”
Do you ever think about how Yasuo looks up to Yone so, so much? How he begs Yone to believe him that he didn't mean for what happened to Elder Souma to have even occurred? How he knew he was meant for more, he could have changed everything that day—
How Yone knows he's failed Yasuo with just that display of arrogance alone. How the last thing Yasuo says to Yone is that he isn't a murderer the moment he cuts him down with his own blade. How the last thing Yone says to Yasuo with his dying breath is the question:
Then why are you running?
A man who has no purpose in life... is like a piece of wood. He will drift through life without meaning, without ever coming to a place where he truly belongs. He will always be searching for something that isn't there. But a man who has a purpose.. even if he is lost, will always find his way.
Sauce: vagabond
Musashi Miyamoto 宮本 武蔵 ,
Vagabond バガボンド
Cont. from here | @gutterblade
“Oka-” Yasuo could barely get his reply out before their lips crashed back together, his eyes slipping shut once more. He could deal with the callousness, the lack of riveting conversation (he’s thankful for that one), and the methodical way Talon goes about his work. But this? This was definitely not something he had in mind when he agreed to the job and he definitely isn’t complaining. And turns out being told to ‘shut the fuck up’ wound him up more than he thought it would. His grip along the assassin’s hips tightened all the while kissing him back with a reignited fervor and leaving Yasuo almost breathless at the same time.
How one thing led to another had blindsided the ronin. Yasuo wasn’t a stranger at all to a quick lay, rather, he’d usually be the one to begin that song and dance; it just so happened that he wasn’t the orchestrator this time. So, trying to be the voice of reason here despite the lingering buzz of liquor in his system and definitely not realizing how perfectly Talon sits on his thighs was not doing him any favors here.
Every little shift of his weight sends a shock through Yasuo and only stoked the fire burning within him, trying to grind his hips up against Talon’s to chase more of it. It’s clear to him he wasn’t the one leading here, and for once, he would relinquish the reins if it made it easier for them. A corner of his lip twitches up at the thought of being practically growled at again. Maybe he does push a bit; with practiced motion Yasuo rolls the two of them over on the scratchy sheets of the inn’s bedding and breaks apart their lips once more with a small gasp.
Yasuo watches the other man briefly, hazel eyes searching for any hint of discomfort. He doesn’t give himself the grace to ask all the questions he usually would, figuring he’ll at least be given orders, considering... Instead coming back down to kiss Talon again hard, one hand shifting to brace himself against the bed while the other stayed firmly on his hip.
