#essencefluxed

[anomallis]

“Wait wait wait! I can teach some cool language stuff too hold on—“

“Okay, repeat after me: 나는 당신의 무릎뼈를 먹을 것입니다.”

" 나는 당신의 무릎뼈를 먹을 것입니다 ?" he says in a rather confused tone.

" Will this get me in trouble too ?"

[taliswho]

@essencefluxed said: ⌖

ezreal ... where to start with him? jayce is almost embarrassed that his mind goes there first, but he allows himself the space and time to process. ❝ enjoyment, or excitement. i always feel like i can have a good time with ezreal. but i also care for him. and with that being said, i'd also say protective. i feel like i need to hold his hand whenever he's around all my stuff in the lab. ❞ he thinks back to the first time ezreal came into the lab; he quite literally tried to get his hands on any- and everything. it was kind of cute, now that he thinks about it.

send ⌖ for the first three emotions my character feels when seeing or thinking of yours.

[altarfates]

@essencefluxed continued from x.

Kayn, despite remaining vehemently in denial, was inevitably drawn into Ezreal’s orbit, he fought it off relentlessly, refuted his own mind until he wanted to tear his hair out but he would return to this very argument, this very heated moment every, single time without fail. The taunting curve of his mouth doesn’t falter, amusement dancing in those low-lidded eyes, even as Kayn towered over him, slender fingers splayed against the wall beside his head, Ezreal’s confidence doesn’t fully dissipate. There’s reluctance there, or fear, something that urges Kayn to sink his teeth into it and bite down to prove a point; what the point was hardly mattered at this point. ❝ What the hell did I tell you about going into MY room ? ❞ he seethes, infuriated that the cocky-little-bastard had the audacity to even peer at his humiliatingly large collection of ezreal related merch. He would really be rather fortunate if it was JUST the posters that those prying eyes had caught a glimpse of. ❝ ever heard of a thing called privacy ? ❞ fanboy, the epithet strikes him straight to the core, ignites something in him that burns white and hot, embarrassment ? fury ? he doesn’t even have the sense about him to place it. The hand that had trapped him, forcing the curve of his spine to be flushed against the wall languidly slides down, brushes through his hair before ruthlessly gripping his jaw. There was something dangerous about him then, as if this back and forth had stirred a hunger forth that reflected in his narrowed gaze. ❝ say that again, I dare you. ❞ his voice lowers, his pulse is frenetic and he can feel every, single thud of his heart - or was that ez’s, where did the difference begin ? He tilts his head down so Ezreal can get a proper view of the hell he has evoked by relentlessly prodding and teasing Kayn; he was guilty of this too but who the fuck cared. He merely stares at him like that for a pregnant moment but inside of awaiting the inevitable writhing in his grasp he does precisely what Ezreal requested of him and that - well that pisses him off. It wasn’t a gentle kiss nor was it particularly passionate but it was enough to shut him up and anything else could come after he had thrust all of those words directly back into his mouth. 

[demacianbrawn]

send memes ( always accepting ) @essencefluxed: promise me that you won’t abandon me?

Garen was a soldier, a knight, a defensive wall and a warrior, he prided himself on his ability to read people on the battlefield, he could tell where a blade was moving, where an enemy was side stepping and when he was victorious just by looking into the eyes of another.

That was completely different than reading people when adrenaline wasn't pumping blood into his ears or sweat was dripping down his back. Ezreal's mask was so carefully crafted, a carefree smile, a cocky demeanor, a few well placed jokes, he was the perfect example of some suave boy and yet the more time Garen spent with him he had found that mask's cracks, peering at it with newfound eyes every time it slipped. There was more to Ezreal than the adventurer persona he loved wielding.

It was embarrassing how long it took for him to notice, but it wasn't a surprise. How had Garen gone years without seeing the hurt on Lux's face? It was easy to ignore certain things in one's expression when you didn't want to see them. He wanted to be better, a different person ever since the mage rebellion, and part of that was spending a great deal of time just watching Ezreal during their moments together.

So many layers, so many parts of him working in complete harmony, and the Demacian couldn't lie that watching the blonde sometimes made him feel like he lacked substance. Garen always figured that people saw what they got with him, that there wasn't anything deeper to find and that usually worked for him. Underestimation, especially on the battlefield was important, but did it transcend beyond the thrill of the battle? Was he really as dull and unremarkable as some enemies said?

Not that it mattered, he didn't care what others thought of him, and rather than lose himself in the insecurities that did bubble beneath his skin, he chooses to lay a hand on Ezreal's shoulder. If there was one thing he could do, was be honest and forthcoming to someone he had grown to care about. As reserved and plain as he might come off, one couldn't deny that he cared deeply, and he'd never allow Ezreal to feel anything but kindness and acceptance when it came to whatever relationship they had.

His fingers squeeze, his face serious, he cocks his head to the side to readily observe Ezreal's expression. " I'm not leaving you. I know you won't be in Demacia forever, but whenever you return here, my home is your home, as am I. " Cobalt gaze widening, he immediately sputters a bit, cheeks flushing a deep scarlet. " I mean, I'm your friend. You don't ever have to worry about that. I don't abandon my friends. " Embarrassment laces his tone, and yet he keeps his grip on Ezreal firm, there would be no mixed signals here.

The people who claimed Garen lacked substance had clearly never had an actual conversation with him.

[hemoplagued]

makes a face @ him. Ew.

“Keep looking at me that way and I may just remove your face and mount it on my wall.”

[anomallis]

so if you were like, in a sour dough starter, does that mean you’re now a fresh baked loaf of bread—

“ Yes, if the bread was from Pompeii .”

[anomallis]

hexticles.

" stop that ."

[anomallis]

@essencefluxed : starts yapping

" It was not an invitation. "