#essence-flux-primed

[twiceslainthriceborn]

🗣👋 👀

Plot/AU Ideas

So stealing that bell was not the smartest thing Ezreal ever did. Despite being little more of a lump of iron with unreadable gibberish on it, whatever cult that maniac Januk belonged to really wanted it back. Even those that didn't know a damn thing about the elixir were after Ezreal now! Eventually getting sick of the constant theft and assassination attempts, Ezreal decides to stop faffing about and get to the bottom of this mystery. Unfortunately, not only does he have a bunch of crazy people trying to kill him over a gods damned bell, there are those in the world who would rather the answers he's looking for remain buried. Indeed, they're willing to do just about anything to make sure that particular secret never sees the light of day. To top off this awful, awful situation, the longer Ezreal has the bell in his possession, the more it seems like there's someone else with him. Almost as if he would be able to hear someone unseen speaking to him, if only he stopped to listen...

Why must stars burn out? Why must a Guardian, having survived every fight and passed every trial, eventually succumb to becoming the Nemesis of the very thing they once protected? These are the questions that Ezreal, Star Guardian extraordinaire, seeks to answer. Yet no matter how far he searches, all he finds are more questions. A lost text here, a dead civilization there, all merely the remnants of past confusion and fear. One day, however, Ezreal stumbles across the one question that just might help him crack the case wide open: "If there is a First Star, is there also a Last?"

Ezreal's music career is launching at a meteoric rate. His third album is an even bigger smash success than his previous two, his ride is sweeter than ever, the praise and acclaim on his socials just don't stop coming, and he is absolutely not cripplingly lonely, thanks! During a routine interview, a surprise second guest is brought onto the show: Mordekaiser, lead guitarist of Pentakill. If Ezreal is the rising superstar of the pop world, Mordekaiser is the man who conquered the world of metal. It was widely believed among metalheads that no one could make a guitar sing like he could. Is there something the new can learn from the old, despite the wildly different genres? Is there something the old can learn from the new?

[yunalai]

"It's really okay if I just ... hang out here?" He's a bit starstruck, but he's trying not to let it show. It's not like he's never been in a celebrity's house before, but he's never been in a celebrity like Qiyana's house before. He's really trying not to gawk. "This place is awesome. I've gotta get a new place soon, probably." His name's getting out there, and Ezreal suspects it won't be long before he starts needing a bit more security. "Uh.. what d'you do for fun, anyways?" Somehow, it's hard to picture all the celebrities he knows just sitting around and playing video games like he does.

" well, I ain't gonna send you home in this storm. or have someone drive you when the cars outside seem about to start flying around. "

Ezreal's visit had been unexpected. though she had heard good things about him, some coming from Yasuo himself, one could tell from the distance between the two that a wall of distrust existed. despite her outgoing persona and many interviews, she was notably known for being private about her personal life after all.

sitting on the armchair of the couch, Qiyana clicked her tongue ( which produced a faint metallic noise from her piercing clinking against teeth ).

" when I ain't got nowhere to go? uh, I got horror movies, rhythm games, sometimes I try new shit on my nails, or I just workout. "

the last part was exemplified by her nod toward one corner of the penthouse. there, by the pole, rested weights of varying sizes, a bouncy ball, a yoga mat, and a treadmill.

" what have you been workin' on anyway? "

[seekslight-arch]

It's plain to see that he's absolutely enraptured by her. He's lounging in her room — a fan's wildest fantasy — and absolutely hanging on her every word. "My parents had me learn violin when I was younger," he says, then pauses, because it seems a bit rude to express that he really didn't like it — found it pretentious and stuffy — so he pivots a bit, tries to be tactful (boy, he really does want to impress her, huh?). "Turns out I'm more of a guitar guy." A sheepish sort of grin. "As you know."

@essence-flux-primed ✨

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐁𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐄 to have ezreal casually checking out her room. she cannot describe it with other words, no — bizarre sums it all up.

the first meetings are always awkward with normal people, but with those from the music industry? the current top ten artists? luxanna felt herself at loss of words. what should she talk about? would he like to listen, at all? she had to remind herself he looked nervous, too, and maybe it's like with spiders — they're more afraid of you than you're afraid of them.

perhaps it's true, so she put her phone on her desk turning it to silent mode with the purpose of having it away from her hands, so ezreal wouldn't get distressed about her taking sneaky pictures to post online later on. putting it to silent, though, was a bit risky — something she didn't do like, ever, afraid she'll miss notifications of another voidling spawns around the city she sworn to protect. as of now, no vibrations were heard. and she wouldn't be much help anyway — not with her ankle twisted and tightly bandaged.

that was also the reason they didn't meet in public. walking was way too hard now, the pain from last night's battle still perceptible under her skin with every movement she made. god, the bruise on her arm was making her crazy — but when looking in the boy's big eyes it seemed to easen a bit. especially when he was actually conversing, albeit a bit quiet, but that could also be the house's fault. empty, on saturday morning, with no one around but the pink-haired girl and her bunny hopping around the room freely, with every piece of anything it could probably eat out of the floor.

“yeah,” she uttered awkwardly as a response, but then smiled reassuringly. “i tried a bit of ukulele, but i'm not good at all, and i know it's different from guitar but—” she stopped, shaking her head. “there are chords to your songs all over the internet, and they sound amazing while being played on ukulele. you know, giving the acoustic vibe and all.”

she follows his gaze, taking in her whole room. there's no merch nor posters with any bands, but the huge space is filled with various knick-knacks anyway — tons of polaroid and framed pictures of her and her friends, one recognizable from the concert they've met — the tall man who let lux sit on his arms and helped her get on stage. other than that, plushies — oh god, she owned so many of them — shelves full of books and comics decorated with fairy lights and little trinkets from all the places she visited during vacation with her family.

the tiny creature of soft creamy fur color hopped in to sniff on ez's sock. it didn't seem shy at all, but now it made it's way to claim some attention.

“she seems to be comfortable around you,” lux smiled, the starlight in her eyes shining with joy. “her name's mimi. i think she wants you to pet her.”

[ionianwanderer]

Birthday gift for @essence-flux-primed <3

[weldfists]

"Hey, so you know that guy Phel suggested we invite? Kayn?" Of course Ezreal knows him — the guy's infamous in the metal scene, and a pariah everywhere else, it's hard not to know him. "Doesn't he seem, like, kinda risky? After everything that happened with his last band? He threw a guitar through their window. Are we seriously giving him a chance? I know any publicity is good publicity, but I've had my fill of bad publicity, and—" He seems wound up and doesn't show any signs of stopping. Best to just interrupt him.

Sett's index taps idly against his lips as he thinks, his thumb resting beneath his chin. It's been such a whirlwind lately-- trying to get all their shit together and get it done right was a LOT harder than he had expected it to be. What they really didn't need was doubt to be introduced. Man-- they all had their thing when it came to being ostracized by the damn industry, plus he trusts Aphelios' judgement.

His ear flicks, hand moving away from his mouth before gesturing for Ezreal to quiet down. "You're actin' like I didn't get the same sorta treatment for punchin' a pap for you," Sett sucks at his teeth, trying his best to bury his frustration. With a shake of his head he presses himself flatly against the back of the couch. "--I don't think Phel would do us like that, bring in a guy he didn't think would mix with," Sett wags his hand in the air between the two of them to emphasize his point, "our bullshit." God he hoped he was right about the hot air he was talking, or at least that it sounded believable.

Kayn wasn't totally on Sett's radar as he tried to navigate the industry himself. But who the fuck hasn't heard of fellow artists losing their shit every now and then? End of the day they gotta trust the process, growing pains can be part of the process... right? Sett's choosing to believe it.

"Maybe he ain't that bad? Maybe under all that he's rainbows and unicorns--" stopping to raise his brow, as if to entertain the thought of that reality. Damn, wouldn't that be something... The corner of his lip curling upward. "Whatever, all I'm saying is I trust Phel's judgement here-- if it don't work it wasn't meant to be, simple as that."

[diveyne]

@essence-flux-primed sent : "Kayn'd kill me if I ever told him, but I loved him in ECLIPSE. Like, there was something about his voice and yours, y'know?" Ezreal rolls his eyes as he continues, but there's a fondness in him that belies his words. "But I know how much of a pain in the ass he can be, and that's now, so I bet he was even worse back then, right?" A wry grin that doesn't quite meet his eyes. "It just sucks. You guys were good. Are good. Don't get me wrong. I just wish Kayn wasn't so... Kayn about it."

morgana stares into the depths of her bottomless glass of douce noir, fixated upon the electrifying mirror of rioting violet eyes reflecting back at her. the image shatters when she gives her glass a swirl, going round and round until the wine spins so violently that it threatens to leap past the crystalline rim. it sloshes at her abrupt halt, then disappears in an instant when she knocks it back after only a moment's thought. a hum thrums low in the base of her throat as her wayward gaze wanders in search of the misplaced bottle, and once she's found it, she decides it's best to keep the entire thing on hand. she might as well drink directly from it.

" we were good, " morgana agrees with a short, airy little laugh, keeping her head lowered as she peers down at the floor. there's a heavy, solemn note to her voice all the same, just the faintest tremor of mourning in passing. because on that day, kayn had died, and so had she, in his eyes. not a day passed where she didn't mourn what ECLIPSE could have been with his hand still bleeding into the mix, of all the shared dreams left for forgotten in the dirt. as angry as they all were, sometimes she still wonders if the rest of her bandmates were as regret-filled as she yet remains. morgana forces a smile and takes a long swig from the bottle before she offers it to ezreal. " he's an enormous pain in the ass, and i say that with love. but . . . he was worse back then. it was terrifying. not because i, or anyone else, was scared of him, but . . . i was scared for him and the things he'd put himself through. "

running lithe hands through her hair, she drags her palms back down and allows them to hover over her face, pressing the heels against her cheeks before lowering her arms to fold loosely over her chest. the look on her face is warmer now, and she presents ezreal with her full and undivided attention, her piercing gaze clawing to meet his. " i'm really glad he has you all. everyone seems great. he needs great. maybe he isn't my business anymore, but i'm always going to worry about him. we were good friends, once. i miss making music with him. "

[heartate]

@essence-flux-primed sent : [ from: ezreal 4:01pm ] hey [ from: ezreal 4:01pm ] i found a show i think ull like [ from: ezreal 4:01pm ] wanna doordash n smash?

ahri is beyond impressed at the speed the consecutive texts come in after the other. three immediate little dings on her phone, and she leans over towards her coffee table to reach for it, pulling down the accordion of notifications before making ... a face at the texts.

she bursts into a bout of explosive laughter and rolls her eyes, opening the IMs to reply.

[ from : ahri, 4:02 pm. ] are you sure we're going to be watching the show at all? [ from : ahri, 4:03 pm. ] come over babe, i'll order us some italian

ahri's just ... giggling to herself, now. oh, ezreal, sweet love of her life. what would she ever do without him?

[noxianwilled]

"The worst part about people learning that you're French, though, is that suddenly it's all 'oh, hon hon baguette,' or 'est-ce que je peux aller aux toilettes,' you know? Like, congrats on being on the internet or learning French in school, you know?” He lifts his drink, as if toasting all the people, past and future, who have flexed their minimal French knowledge in front of him. “And I still can’t cook. Like, shouldn’t that be in my blood or something?”

— @essence-flux-primed

Katarina groans in agreement before taking a sip from her glass, the experience all too relatable. "It's always oh là là, omelette du fromage, voulez-vous coucher avec moi, I think I'm hilarious faking a French accent," The mockery is followed by an eye roll, even the thought of the tired joke mildly annoying. She shakes her head lightly, throwing him an understanding glance. "Which is really just the other side of the equally annoying say something in French for me when they definitely are not close enough to be asking for anything."

It is the next part, however, that elicits her laughter. "If it's any consolation I can barely do the basics," There was never any need to learn, nor any particular interest in the activity to make it a hobby — nor did her routine left time to indulge in those, for a long time. "Didn't get the fantastique chef French genes either. But enjoying the food is always better than preparing it, anyway, and if we're talking stereotypes, it could be a bigger loss — you could lack the fashion sense instead."

[windblamed]

closed starter for @essence-flux-primed.

it's unsightly, how much alcohol is in yasuo's system & how he must look right now. this is certainly far from the first time the swordsman has found himself in a sorry state at... blearily gazing outside the window of this abode... what appears to be just after dawn. he groans, putting down his cup just a little rougher than he intended to & alcohol sloshes over the rim, over his fingers and onto the stained countertop. shooting him a glare, the barkeep coughs pointedly in his direction, patience having already been worn threadbare.

⠀⠀⠀⠀and of course, if there was indeed a cosmic force of luck present on runeterra, it would certainly not be on his side; for it was at this moment that the door swung open with a rusty bell's chime & his current... travelling companion entered the bar with a whistle and a jaunt.

⠀⠀⠀⠀thud. that would be the sound of his forehead banging against the sodden wood, except he somehow held onto a shred of dignity. so much for decent first appearances, or appearing as a mysterious swordmaster. needless to say, he usually takes his alcohol much better, thank you for asking. he has his reasons, or that's what yasuo tells himself firmly as he slides over 4 more worn coins towards the other side of the bar.

⠀⠀⠀⠀“  ... good morning.  ” because there was little else yasuo can say in this moment. standing up with not a sway in sight, he would take a few steps toward the blond... and with a sudden lurch, lean sharply into him.

[prismalit]

replying to @essence-flux-primed from here after nearly 3 years oops i'm sorry. don't we love the new post editors

sunlight dapples upon her skin and illuminates her honey blonde tresses in such an ordinary way that's unlike any other morning, except today, a different veil of comfort, peace, and warmth envelop her with ezreal by her side. for once, it's just the two of them. it's a small and quaint run - of - the - mill motel with peeling wall paper and carpet stains and tattered blinds with one even crooked and askew, but it doesn't matter to her because right now, it's the most special place in the world, simply for the fact that she's happy with the man she is so hopelessly enamored with. there is no one like him in this world. lux thinks he's remarkable, and each day she's with him is a new, exciting adventure that leaves her heart racing and filled with confidence and daring, exhilarating joy.

her family feels so strict, sometimes, and she knows they'd never approve of ezreal, but she doesn't care.

lux peers over her shoulder, breaking contact with her phone's screen for a moment, smiling soft and low in the blooming radiance coming aglow over her face marveling the light pouring in. " good morning, handsome, " she greets in return, turning even further so that she can stretch up and press a sweetened kiss to his lips. she brings her arm over to excitedly show ezreal her phone. " i knooooow, but, look! " she's on tiktok, of course, and on her screen is a horde of puppies trying to bob for apples. " aren't they cute? " there's such gentle innocence written across her countenance as she briefly looks back at her phone. she breathes in a quick breath, giving a slow pause before she finally speaks up again. " i was just thinking about how nice it'd be if we could have a puppy or like five cats, some day. we could have a farm! "

[mercless]

smash or pass: ezreal :)

Eyes rolling back into their head,

"Pass."

[sivunas]

"When I was a kid, I used to make these things called mud pies. Heard of 'em?" In Shurima, when it rains it pours, and the desert has become an unpassable expanse of treacherous mud. They've found an old stone ruin they can sit in, but the stillness and silence makes it hard for Ezreal to sit still. "You just stack up a bunch of mud like a cake, and when you pat it it's really wiggly. But now I just..." Ezreal glances at her chest, but to his credit it's his own that he reaches up and pats.

sivir's eyebrows start to crease the second ezreal's words register, and her lower lip pushes up in a way hat makes her nose scrunch up. " mud pies? " she repeats, sounding almost incredulous in her tone. she tries her best to mask that cutting edge of curiosity with a veil of disdain, but that brief glimmer that leapt into her eyes surely would have given her away, were ezreal paying close enough attention to the minute shifts in her face. sivir wonders, though, when she catches that stolen glance to her chest, which only twists her lips even more. ironic, considering they've shared maddening nights, skin to skin, but she can't fight that slithering instinct to react with a volatile snap of her jaws and bite to her words because she'd rather choke than admit she so much as tolerates him, let alone the fact that she does like him. to what degree, she's not quite sure, but she sure as hell won't tell him, either way.

she shakes her head, and her hair spills down over her shoulders, the falling cascades of rich, dark brown locks framing her face so gently. " no, i can't say that i have, " sivir replies at last. she's trying her best to relate the correlation between his explanation to his gesture, and tilts her head to the side and just . . . stares at him blankly. " and now you just . . . ? now you just what? " sivir frowns again. " your mud pies are wiggly. but you— you're patting your flat chest. "

please, ezreal, she is so confused.

sivir sits up straighter and starts scooting closer to him, close enough for her to roughly grip his face with just one hand, squeezing his cheeks tight and squishing it all up. " explain. "

[desiren]

#desiren, an independent, selective, private, & mutuals only evelynn of riot's league of legends, as worshiped by rina.

i am 26, asian, she / her, & this blog is 20+ only, though heavily preferred for writing partners for any shippy interactions to be with writers 21+. however, that being said, i am not open to ships on this blog at this time. if you were thinking about approaching for a ship, please read this post. please refer to my rules on ahri for now, as they'll apply here. graphics on this blog made by me unless stated otherwise.

heavily affiliated with ... @umbane, @essence-flux-primed.

blogroll. i will update this when i'm not lazy. @heartate, ahri. @diveyne, morgana. @elegaria, sona. @90calibre, caitlyn. @sivunas, sivir.

credits. graphics by @isaworks (pinned, banners, mobile header, border, & divider)

[perkwunos]

As to my own views of permanence and transience, I think the universe has a side which is mental and permanent. This side is that prime conceptual drive which I call the primordial nature of God. It is Alexander’s nisus conceived as actual. On the other hand, this permanent actuality passes into and is immanent in the transient side.

Enlarge your view of the final fact which is permanent amid change. In its essence, realization is limitation, exclusion. But this ultimate fact includes in its appetitive vision all possibilities of order, possibilities at once incompatible and unlimited with a fecundity beyond imagination. Finite transience stages this welter of incompatibilities in their ordered relevance to the flux of epochs. Thus the process of finite history is essential for the ordering of the basic vision, otherwise mere confusion.

Alfred North Whitehead, “Process and Reality,” Essays in Science and Philosophy

[ionianwanderer]

@essence-flux-primed // continued from here

As quickly as he wanted to move, to ravish him, who was he to not appreciate the thing of beauty before him? Even with Ezreal giving him exactly what he wanted he couldn’t help but take in the sight. Hair usually kept reasonably fluffy was now an absolute mess from all the dancing throughout the night, blond strands sticking to his forehead-- oh but they framed his eyes so perfectly. Yasuo’s gaze dips to Ezreal’s lips, flushed from how hard they’d crashed together moments before, god how he wanted to do it again till they bruised. He can’t help the way his hands begin to explore, too. A roughness in his touch as fingers glide across the blond’s stomach and are drawn upwards beneath his crop top, lingering there and holding him still as Yasuo presses his thigh further against him for leverage.

Yasuo finally closes in on the neck so graciously offered to him-- barely stopping himself from allowing teeth to catch sensitive skin. Breath hot against Ezreal as he pauses to quiet his lover with a low groan. Another thing he’d never admit was how badly Ezreal got under his skin when he talked like this, part of Yasuo mused that he had to know just how crazy it drove him. 

"I remember thinking you were annoying--" The words are whispered harshly into the blond’s ear, followed by a small nip, a taste of the remedy Yasuo had planned for the bareness of his neck. “--I remember thinking ‘bout how badly I wanted to shut you up.”

He wastes no time, head dipping back down to bite against Ezreal’s neck before settling there long enough that surely it would leave a mark. Yasuo traces the bite gently with his tongue once he’s satisfied. Oh but it doesn’t end there, absolutely not-- Yasuo continues his crusade of marking Ezreal, leaving kisses and love bites in his wake as if it’d be the very last time he ever could. The very last bite finding its home against his clavicle, Yasuo using the hand beneath Ezreal’s shirt to pull it further down to allow him the space to claim him once more.It’s then he finally leans back, admiring his work proudly through half-lidded eyes. There’s a smugness in the way he tilts his head to get another good look at Ezreal, watching the bruises bloom across his neck. Yes… he was his.

[weldfists]

"If I run and jump at Sett, he will surely catch me in his arms." And that's exactly what he's doing, heart-shaped sunglasses bouncing on his head, and if Sett knows what's good for him he'll catch Ezreal and ensure the safety of his beloved glasses. "Incoming!"

The sudden rhythmic thumping quickly approaching him can really only mean one thing. His ears pin back before he even gets to turn around. Sett twists his body, sending the mug of mango juice (which he was so earnestly excited to take part in) tumbling to the floor-- shattering instantly. Hands now free of his beloved mid-day drink, he catches Ezreal with ease; the final movement, a small dip of that pretty little face tucked harshly against his chest to save the pièce de résistance: his sunglasses.

Sett stands there, his grip on Ezreal only slightly threatening him with the way he squeezes his legs. He doesn't say anything but it's evident with the flick of his tail and his ears pinned so flatly against his head he really shouldn't have to say much. He will anyway just so there's no misunderstanding.

"Bud, you're really getting on my nerves." Sett offers a toothy grin but something about it is far from friendly. "Next time, wait till I put down my juice, kapeesh?"