#chronisms

[faithful-aphelios]

chronisms replied to your photo: Moon Baby ��

Is that a Tattoo or does that stuff come off?

It’s a sticker  but if you try to tell anyone they won’t believe you

@chronisms

[voidhunting]

"So ... I was wondering. Do you wana maybe uhh grab a coffee? Sometime?"

      “ Oh my~. “  She coos with a teasing smile.  “ Getting greedy, aren’t we? What would your bandmates think? “

[umbranatus]

💖 cmon spill, your like a waterfall once you start talking and I can use the distraction

a distraction, huh? whatev. not going to dwell on it. Leona can snap ANY men like a twig under a heel. plus, it might be a good experience to give, even to HIMSELF, an honest opinion. annoying Ekko is but an additional satisfaction.

‘‘ a man i could show my double nature and receive an equally amazing treatment is a KEEPER. surely the constant teasing is tiring but would YOU stop him? especially once you know how expertely will he take care of you with enough PLEADING? ‘‘ the ninja smirks.

* PEEPEE YELP REVIEW  /  NOT ACCEPTING  /  @prodigal-ezreal

[ladybuvelle]

chronisms replied to your post: // Pffffft the link to it got blocked. :| Here’s...

Now we know why Panth is so big and strong

// hA

[pantheon-god-of-war]

Does Leona with her Sun aspect powers and abilities count as a hot wife?

[lightshielded]

So just a hypothetical question, for how much would that crown sell. If someone were to steal it?

              the prince raises a brow, his lips pulled down into a frown at the thought of someone either stealing or selling his own coronet, yet twitching with the amusement he felt that one would be so bold to ask him such a question. he carefully removed the crown from his head, running his fingers along the elegantly engraved edges and details of the utmost finesse. it was a symbol of many things, simply his status as prince or more completely the burdens which weigh upon a ruler in exchange for power and privilege. ‘ a hypothetical question? of course. well, my own crown was crafted using the highest purity demacian gold and silver available, with only minor impurities of silver - steel for necessary hardness and durability required for such a piece, and shaped by the goldsmiths in the kingdom. ’

demacian crafts were already highly prize as it was beyond the country’s borders, but having the opportunity to own such crowns and their masterful make would make for a prize any foreign collector would drool over. of that he was entirely certain of. truly, the amount one could acquire selling either crown would be enough to set a man up for life, and a well - to - do one at that. ‘ my father’s, however, is pure gold, without the silver, and inlaid with sapphires of flawless cut which are quite large in size. it is quite the masterpiece. i would say either is beyond the budget of all but the richest of people, though their exact worth in coin i am not too sure. you would need an appraisal by a foreign master - jeweller for a price, but we have no intention of doing such. ’ 

he seemed to be lost in the thought it it for a moment, consumed by thought of how money could change one’s life, until his eyes finally narrow. he returned the coronet to its rightful place above his brow, he would let the youth off with a small warning. one that truly need not be spoken, but this was all hypothetical, after all, and it needed all hypothetical costs included. all of them. and, one’s life is quite the price for all the coin in the world. an important piece of fine print worth noting for such a transaction. ‘ but, their worth is surely not enough to buy one’s way out of their conviction, if one were to get caught attempting to steal either of them. hypothetically, of course. ’

[prodigal-ezreal]

Morning after (time to suffer)

What a heavingly sight to wake up to, if you catch the rising sun—

He wakes up early, like he always uses to in situations like this. Sits up, stretches lazily and looks at the window to see the dark veil of the night barely giving in to the violet and gold crack of dawn, many stars are still in the sky but one thing is sure: Sun’s rising over the Shuriman city of Nashramae, like it always does.

Ezreal takes a minute to look at the dimly lit room around him while his brain helpfully provides memories and sensations of the not too distant night before, while his eyes scan the area around the bed for his belongings. A satisfied smile curls his lips as his fingers trace down a line from his ear to his jaw while his eyes jump from object to object, finger pads following his throat, collarbone and chest, skin he knew to be littered with marks he’d have trouble hiding in the heat of the Great Sai’s dessert, if this wasn’t his last day on the continent.

Finally, his look lands on the person sleeping soundly next to him, and Ezreal can’t help but blow a bit of hair through his nose. Rivalries lent themselves so easily to situations like this. It’s always a few steps away from sexual tension, or actual murderous intent, he has learnt, and where the line is drawn varies from dynamic to dynamic. He can’t say he knows the guy too much, before this he actually pegged him for the straight type, and even after being thoroughly proved wrong, he couldn’t say he knew him any better. Still, better this than murder. He didn’t need another Shuriman on his heels.

Ezreal stands up from the bed and walks towards the water jugs, happy to find them empty— at the very least, in last night’s exhaustion, he had half the mind to not go to bed dirty. He gathers his things discarded around the room with light steps, puts on his clothes, and if he checks twice to see if his bounty and wallet are still the same as he remembers it being yesterday, well, no one can blame him.

The sun is barely over the horizon when he leaves a tip on the reception ‘desk’ at the inn for its troubles and steps outside, the cold air of the morning washing over him like a tidal wave. The first ship from Nashramae to Piltover should be leaving soon, he should hurry if he wants to catch it.

Whatever transpired last night and its consequences is a problem for Future Ezreal, like it always is.

@chronisms

[yuhl]

@chronisms replied to your post: miss ekko .. 

leaves her a lil bullet shell. Its nothing special, she probably has thousands, but its from him.

 she doesn’t recognize this one , it’s pointedly different . jinx cups it in the dip of her palms and leans in , pink lips pressing slowly on the cool metal.