#bereaped

The ACTION went UNNOTICED at first, her hands GRIPPING at his collar. Gray-blues were CLOSED as the Noxian Brute SPOKE about HIMSELF—a common occurrence—HOWEVER, those eyes snapped OPEN when he was TUGGED down and LIPS PRESSED AGAINST HIS OWN.

Draven was USED to being the one to do something like this; to ALWAYS make the FIRST MOVE. So with Bri being the one to INITIATE the action instead, it made the GEARS in his mind TURN, processing what the HELL was GOING ON.

The EXECUTIONER BLINKS ONCE and grunts against her lips, strong hands GRIPPING onto her HIPS and the warmonger PULLS her smaller body FLUSH to his own, a(n affectionate) GROWL rumbling in his THROAT as he presses into and DEEPENS THE KISS.

❝      so are you planning to lose a limb?     or should i address it to a dearly hated one?     ❞

“Then why don’t we CHANGE that?”

His hand was FIRM on the wall next her head, the other resting on his HIP and a wide grin spread on his face, brows furrowed slightly before one PERKS up in curiosity.

The WARMONGER sneers, a huff leaving his nose—they’re close now, noses NEARLY touching. He’s TAUNTING Briar, if anything.

“Can we go back to TALKING about WHO I am?”

A scoff leaves the WARMONGER, gray-blues rolling at bier words as he rests his axes on his shoulders with a huff, nose wrinkles by her words. It was almost an INSULT to him, but she knew ZAUN better then he did—she was his TICKET around this HELL hole.

Annoying—yeah, that’s a common word used to describe the Noxian Executioner. He was always one to inflate his own ego—thriving off of the chanting of his name and putting on a big show in the pits; it was not only entertaining for the Noxian people, but it was something that fed Draven’s massive ego and gave him a big head (figuratively, of course.)

To his surprise, he didn’t expect her to cut off his boasting by moving her arm around his neck and essentially wrapping him in a headlock. He blinks as he processes what’s happening, axes clattering to the ground as his large hands move to her arm to pry her off of him.

@bereaped sent: ❛  i  wasn’t  expecting  company .  ❜ hoi (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ

At first, Silco's response was quiet. Fingertips ran along the surface of the closest piece of furniture near him, as though checking for dust. Lazily, he brought his forefinger up and brushed it against his thumb before flicking it outwards towards her. Feet brushed in an odd pattern as he moved forward, finally stopping only a few feet away.