#Arcane ekko

[jollymalt]

working on a timebomb comic strip!

[art-of-arcane]

ARCANE | Wild Rune Illustrations | Julien Georgel

[arcanegifs]

Arcanegifs' Arcane Season 2 (2024) Character Poll: Ekko ↳ “Sometimes taking a leap forward means... leaving a few things behind.”

[devilwizard]

I know I’ve already reblogged it but I fucking love Major Arcana art. This is so good and the choices are all perfect.

Major Arcanea

[unknownati]

xi. slow morning

a/n: from my draftz if theres typos dont tell me im blind and proud... as a side note i feel like i write intimacy better than anything else AM I TWEAKING.

warnings/tags: gn!reader, no use of y/n, no desc of reader's physical features, fluff and smut, short, handjob (e! recieving—very ekko focused), intimacy (both nonsexual and sexual), cuddling, morning sex, modern!ekko, slight sub!ekko, hoping this position is understandable lol, no morning breath mentions y'all arent in each others face, half-proofread...meaning i gave up halfway thru. goodnight! 🙋🏾‍♀️

_______________________________________________

warm slivers of sunlight seep through cracks in the curtains, spilling on your face as your eyes fluttered open, making a slow ascent into consciousness.

you're met with a phone screen, a pair of hands framing the device. ekko's. a thumb swipes along the screen, transitioning into the next video. two cats cuddling. you watch him hover over the send button, tap it, choose your profile, and type the message 'us :)' before sending it to you. your phone buzzes faintly on the nightstand, though you don't reach for it.

gentle breaths seep into your ears from behind you, relaxed and steady. a shift in movement, warmth enveloping your figure—his arms, which you reach up to stroke. his hold is protective and grounded.

he was long awake before you, you can tell from the way his voice sounds, smooth and airy.

"morning, angel."

it's a stark contrast from when he first wakes up. he sounds more gruff. more miserable. much like how you sound now.

you groan, soft. you stretch to rub the sleep out of your eyes. "g'morning."

you don't feel miserable, though. far from it. waking up in his arms is the only way you've ever liked waking up.

neither of you will be getting up any time soon. not with the way your legs are tangled together, the way he presses a tender kiss against the shell of your ear as a secondary greeting, it's all too...weighted. too comfortable to just brush past. it's the weekend, anyway.

you turn, neck slightly craned, forehead pressing into his clavicle. his scent clings to him, as intoxicating and heavenly as ever. the faint traces of last night's shower linger. you know he used your body wash—he always did. shea butter lied above a layer of his basic lotion (eucerin, you put him on since he has drier skin), completed with that divine cologne he uses. forest-y, notes of pine and bergamot.

your fingertips drag along the bare skin of his side, and he twitches away from your touch. a breathy laugh exits him.

"that tickles."

you stop, moving down to his core. "sorry," you murmur. it's half-sincere.

your digits dance across the surface of his stomach, quite literally. you create legs with your pointer and middle finger, making your little hand-person do twirls and jumps. his laughs bubbles again.

"that tickles worse," his chin meets the crown of your head when he looks down, unable to catch your expression. a hand meets your nape, mimicking your movements.

it's featherlight and playful, as if bugs are scuttling along your skin. you laugh the same as he does, shoulders shrugging up in discomfort.

"okay, okay! i'm sorry."

his hand settles at the bottom of your back, right where your spine curves inward. it's relaxed at first, but then it presses. pulls you closer. as if there's even any more space to close.

your legs wrap around his waist, the leg which you lay on pushing beneath his hip to raise it. it's only uncomfortable for a second, then it's like you're slowly melting into each other's forms. bare chest to bare chest, chins resting on the other's shoulder, hearts swelling at the same speed. you know your leg will fall asleep soon, but you don't care.

yet, he's not paying enough attention to you. not as much as you'd like. sure, his hand is stroking your back. sure, he still seems like he's trying to find ways to pull you closer. but his focus strays. it's all on his phone, undeserving.

his eyes stay glued to the screen, darting around. some video about owls. his hand was beginning to falter, his affection slowing.

greedy. you need more. you know how to get it.

you shift away and your hand meets his side again. he flinches, assuming you're continuing with your ticklish movements. he settles once realizing you won't. then it trails, a slow drag down towards the front of his boxers—a light blue pair with snoopy and woodstock printed in an even pattern. you bought them for him a while back, and he was never one to complain. plus, they were comfy.

only when your fingers breach the elastic band did he notice what you were doing. he doesn't stop you.

he wasn't soft for very long after you reveal his length. feeling it grow stiff in your hands made your heart rate pick up.

"i've barely even touched you yet," you murmur, turning to litter his neck with open-mouthed kisses. he groans in response.

his tip prods at your naval once his dick is standing at full attention. an airy chuckle flows from you into his ears. your fist closes just below the head, thumb reaching to rub along the sensitive underside. each vein, each ridge that you trace over elicits a whine—ones that are close to melodic, satisfying hums to your ears.

your hand moves agonizingly slow, long strokes that leave his mind going fuzzy. it's not long until his tip starts crying, which you happily collect as lubricant. his brows knit together, delicate gasps overlapping the video in the background.

ekko's face nuzzles into the junction connecting your neck and shoulder, plump lips pressing into the end of your collarbone. his moans muffle against your skin.

"hidin'?" you ask, your free hand reaching to run through his locs. he nods, slowly thrusting his hips up into your fist, meeting your movements halfway.

a small noise clicks behind you, and whatever video he was watching stopped. then a thud against the mattress. he dropped his phone. another arm clamps around you, and you know you've got him good.

finally, the attention is on you. his grasp on your body is tight, the sweet desperate nothings he whispers into your ears as he curses and begs you not to stop are angelic.

"fuck...don't stop. please, you make me feel s-so good. god, baby—"

you loosely echo his words back to him, voice sultry and raspy. "yeah?" you purr. "feels good?"

your wrist flicks faster, too quick for his lazy hips to keep up with. he loses rhythm, his pants stutter. he murmurs something, too shyly for you to hear, yet you can only assume he's coming undone. your theory is quickly confirmed, his movements slowing to a stop as he releases all over your hand and tummy, fingertips pressing into your back.

if only you could hear his pretty cries better. against your skin, they're low and subdued, but you can hear the incantations of your name paired with his voice breaking off at the peak of his climax.

neither of you realized how tense his body had become until he relaxes against you, hand still weakly skimming along your lower back.

still, your bodies were heavy. neither of you wanted to move. but the cum dripping off you was starting to feel weird, and you want it off.

you barely even get to think about moving before his arms squeeze tighter around you. "ekko, i wanna go wipe this off."

"not yet," he whispers shakily. "just...a few more minutes. can't be done with you yet."

you've definitely won his attention. for a few hours.

[misswynters]

Royal Harbinger

featuring. ekko x princess! reader

Hailing from the Grand Kirzean Empire, you were a princess. The only one wielding the blood technomagic abilities. Having such powerful abilities yet you are one of the most sweetest person, ekko has ever bet.

Glittering starlight pierced through the thick smog that veiled Zaun, casting faint halos of silver over the jagged metal and broken cobblestone streets. Neon lights pulsed faintly from signs above cluttered alleyways, their buzzing hum blending into the mechanical symphony of the Undercity. Amid the chaos, there stood a figure who seemed so out of place it was almost comical—wrapped in delicate silks and adorned with intricate, glowing lines of red that shimmered faintly with every step.

You, a princess of the a Grand Empire, wielder of forbidden blood technomagic, and to Ekko, someone who had no business wandering these parts.

Perched atop a railing on one of Zaun’s crumbling platforms, Ekko crossed his arms as he watched you. At first glance, you were every bit the image of innocence. That soft smile you offered the street urchins as you handed them what little supplies you’d brought from above. The way your delicate hands caressed the head of a stray Zaunite mutt, soothing its bony frame. Your voice, lilting like a melody, apologizing for taking up space in an already-crowded alley.

It didn’t make sense.

“Hey,” Ekko called from above, leaping down to land lightly on his feet a few steps away from you. “What are you doing here? This place isn’t exactly royal palace material, Princess.”

Your head turned, the faint light catching your gentle features. “Oh, Hi Ekko! I was just… exploring.”

“Exploring?” He raised an eyebrow, his tone carrying an edge of disbelief. “Kirze’s finest blood mage is just out here sightseeing?”

The smile on your lips didn’t falter, though your fingers twitched at the mention of blood magic. “I needed to see this place for myself. You’ve told me so much about Zaun… I couldn’t stay away.”

“Yeah, well,” he muttered, glancing around. “Zaun isn’t exactly a tourist spot. Especially for someone like you. People see those glowing lines on your arms? They’ll think you’re carrying something valuable and won’t ask before taking it.”

You tilted your head, the light in your eyes curious rather than offended. “Is that why you’ve been following me for the past hour?”

His composure faltered, and he scratched the back of his neck. “Maybe.”

“That’s sweet of you,” you said softly, your gaze dropping to the cobblestones. “But you don’t have to protect me, Ekko. I can handle myself.”

“Yeah, sure,” he scoffed. “Handle yourself like when that drunk guy in the bar tried to grab your hand last week, and you just smiled at him like he was your best friend?”

Your laugh was soft. “I didn’t want to cause a scene.”

“You’re too nice,” he muttered, running a hand down his face. “You’re in Zaun now. Being nice gets you hurt.”

But even as he said it, something about your presence made the buzzing tension in his chest loosen. Maybe it was the way you didn’t flinch at the harshness of his words, or the way your kindness didn’t feel forced. It wasn’t fake or performative—it just was.

Before he could say more, a low growl rumbled from a nearby alley. Ekko tensed, his hand instinctively reaching for the bat strapped to his back. Two figures emerged from the shadows, their faces obscured by bandanas, their postures predatory.

“See?” Ekko muttered, stepping in front of you. “This is exactly what I’m talking about.”

The larger of the two men chuckled, his voice gravelly. “A couple of lost little birds, eh? Let’s see what you’re hidin'.”

Ekko’s grip tightened on his bat, his stance shifting. “You don’t want to do this.”

“Oh, well we do,” the smaller man sneered, pulling a knife from his belt.

Before Ekko could spring into action, a faint crimson glow bathed the alley. The air grew heavy, almost suffocating, as the markings on your skin flared to life. The metallic scent of blood hung in the air, and the two men froze, their bravado crumbling as their bodies seized up, limbs locking unnaturally.

Ekko turned, his jaw slack as he watched you step forward, your hand raised delicately. The men’s weapons clattered to the ground, and with a flick of your wrist, they crumpled, gasping for breath but unharmed.

“Leave,” you said, your voice calm but commanding, as if the very air bent to your will. The men scrambled to their feet and disappeared into the shadows without a second glance. The glow faded from your body as you turned back to Ekko, your serene smile returning as though nothing had happened. “See? I told you I could handle myself.”

He stared at you, his bat still half-raised. “What the hell was that?”

“Blood technomagic,” you said simply, brushing an invisible speck of dust from your sleeve. “It’s a bit… intimidating, I know. I don’t like using it unless I have to.”

“Intimidating?” he repeated, his voice a mix of awe and disbelief. “You just turned two full-grown men into rag dolls without breaking a sweat.”

You shrugged, your smile faltering slightly. “I don’t want people to see me as a monster. That’s why I try to be kind—to balance it out.”

“Balance it out?” Ekko stepped closer, his eyes searching yours. “You’re not a monster, Firefly. You just saved both our asses.”

The nickname caught you off guard, your cheeks warming as you looked away. “You don’t have to call me that.”

“Uh! Yeah, I do,” he said, his tone softening. “You’re out here lighting up Zaun like no one else can.” Silence stretched between you for a moment.

“Come on,” Ekko said finally, offering you his hand. “Let’s get out of here before more trouble shows up.”

You hesitated, glancing down at his outstretched hand. Despite the power coursing through your veins, the ability to command life and death with a flick of your wrist, something about the gesture made you feel vulnerable in a way you weren’t used to.

But then you took his hand, his grip warm and steady, and for the first time in a long while, you felt safe with him. As he led you through the winding streets of Zaun, he glanced back at you with a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “You know, Firefly, you’re full of surprises.”

“Jeez! You’re full of compliments,” you teased, your voice light despite the lingering weight in your chest.

“Do i?, or do you just deserve all the praise one can get.” he shot back, his grin widening.

. . .

Oh, how you wished that it was just the end. But it wasnt, not in a place like this. Soon after both smoke and ash swirled in the air, a haze of chaos and destruction painted Zaun’s underbelly in muted tones of gray and orange. Shattered pipes hissed steam into the atmosphere, nearly drowned out by the growing fires. The air was thick with tension, each explosion sending shockwaves through the cracked streets.

Amid the wreckage, Ekko’s heart raced as he sprinted through the winding alleys. His boots echoed sharply against the metal ground, his bat swinging at his side as his thoughts churned. Where are you?

He had only taken his eyes off you for a second, just one second. He thought you’d be right behind him as the bombs started going off, but when he turned, you were gone. He didn’t see the men closing in on you until it was too late.

Ekko gritted his teeth, his frustration mounting. He had heard of the Empire you were raised in and its unparalleled mastery of technomagic. But meeting you: sweet, kind, and carrying an unfathomable power, had shattered all his assumptions. You weren’t just a mage but a princess as well. But to him, you were simply you. His light in the dark. And now you were in danger. Seemingly.

When you woke, the metallic tang of blood clung to the air. The room was dim, lit only by the faint red glow of the bindings around your wrists. Your gown, once pristine and clean was dirty by the scuffle, and your heart pounded with a mixture of fear and adrenaline.

“Stay calm,” you whispered to yourself, your voice soft, barely audible.

A group of men stood a few feet away, speaking in low voices. Their uniforms were unmarked, and their expressions betrayed no fear as they glanced at you.

“They doesn’t look like much,” one of them sneered. “For someone called the 'Royal Vermilion of Chaos', I expected… more.”

“It’s a stupid nickname at that” someone else said, though you couldn’t see them.

You flinched inwardly but forced yourself to remain composed. “I don’t suppose you’d let me go if I said please?” you asked, your tone almost playful despite the trembling in your hands.

“Cute,” another said with a scoff as his hand cupped your face. “But we know what you are. What you’re capable of. Better to keep you tied up.”

Your smile faltered slightly as your blood hummed beneath your skin, an ever-present pulse of magic just waiting to be unleashed. You had always been careful, never letting your power consume you. But now, fear began to stir something unstable.

Ekko burst into the place like a storm, his bat taking down the first guard before the man could even draw his weapon. The second came at him with a blade, but Ekko ducked and swung upward, sending the man sprawling.

“Where is they?!” he growled, his voice echoing through the metallic halls.

The third guard hesitated, and Ekko pressed the bat against his chest. “Talk, or you won’t have the chance to regret it.”

“Down the hall,” the guard stammered, eyes wide. “In the main chamber!”

Ekko didn’t wait for anything else. He tore through the hallway, his chest tightening with every step.

The explosion was deafening. The bindings around your wrists melted away as your magic surged to life. Crimson veins glowed beneath your skin, and with a single wave of your hand, the room erupted in chaos. The men who had mocked you moments before were now scrambling, their weapons useless against the tidal wave of energy that lashed out.

Walls were cracked, the ceiling shuddered, and the air itself seemed to bend to your will. But as your power spiraled, a sharp pain shot through your arm. You looked down to see a jagged cut along your forearm, blood dripping onto the floor. The sight steadied you. Taking a deep breath, you channeled the magic inward, watching as the blood wove itself back into your skin. The wound closed, leaving only a faint scar that glimmered for a moment before fading. When the door burst open, you turned, your energy still crackling around you like a storm.

“Firefly!” Ekko’s voice broke through the chaos, and for a moment, you hesitated.

His eyes darted across the room, taking in the destroyed walls, the unconscious bodies, and you, standing at the center of it all. Your gown was soaked in blood, and your face bore streaks of crimson, but you were alive.

“Hi,” you whispered, relief flooding your voice.

In an instant, he was in front of you, his hands cupping your face. His thumbs brushed against the bloodstains on your cheeks, his eyes filled with worry. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” you said softly, a shaky smile forming. “But I think you should ask them if they’re okay.” You gestured to the men sprawled across the floor.

Ekko’s lips twitched, a short, breathless laugh escaping him. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if afraid you might disappear. “Y’know I was so scared,” he murmured into your hair, his voice cracking.

You hugged him back, your fingers curling into his jacket. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean for it to get this bad.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his gaze intense. “This isn’t your fault. None of it is.”

You met his eyes, the tension slowly ebbing away as his warmth grounded you. For a moment, the chaos around you faded, leaving only the two of you.

“That was incredible, y’know?” he said, a teasing grin forming.

You let out a soft laugh, the sound light and genuine. “I’ll take that as one of your compliments.”

Ekko shook his head, his grin widening. “Come on, let’s get you out of here before you decide to redecorate the rest of Zaun.”

As you left the hideout, his arm stayed firmly around your shoulders, his presence a constant reassurance. Despite the destruction you had left behind, Ekko’s steady hand in yours made you feel like everything might just be okay.

Later, the two of you sat in the a garden. It was one of the few quiet, untouched spots in Zaun. Ekko couldn’t help but tease you. “So, Firefly,” he began, his tone playful. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “I wouldn’t hurt you, though.”

“I know,” he said, his voice softer now. “But next time, maybe warn me before you turn an entire room into a scene from a horror movie?”

You laughed, the sound bright and free, and Ekko felt his chest tighten. Despite everything, you were still you. His sweet, kind Firefly who somehow carried the weight of a mage’s power with grace. And as the neon lights of Zaun reflected in your eyes, Ekko leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I love you,” he said quietly, the words simple but sincere.

You smiled, leaning into him. “I love you too.” The two of you stayed at the garden until dawn. You were practically sleeping on his shoulder, exhausted from today, but he didn’t mind. Because he knew soon that you would have to leave, and god knows when he will see you again. So he wanted to cherish every moment he had with you.

taglist: @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @thesevi0lentdelights @chic-beyond-the-wall-oc-acct @celineandtulips @stuckinaoaktree @fxxvz @jadziulaa @luclue @1intrustivethoughts @finnsky666 @blkmystery @serena6728 @mvistl @kaedeprinz @alientee @ametheslime @turquoizxe @emforjin @ekkosh @tadomikiku @sugaaawaraaa @sunshiines-stuff @night-fall-moon @moonccakes @endedlover @autumn2534 @deathweapongirl @girlistrange @auraa @ilovesugurugeto69 @zwr1tx @bitchydragonparadisee @chewbrry @lashawna200 @xaydria @aliives @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @catsf0rlife707 @pixieswashere @adesum @sorrows-song @hearts4li @qualityearthquakes @honeyfewr @littlegrapejuice @potatointhedirt @comfortweeb

[catbox730]

[thedepressedjuggalette]

Mel and Ekko need more respect on their names.

Everyone (including me) going crazy over the (un?)doomed yaoi, canon Yuri and doomed straights is cool and all but

CAN WE AGREE THESE TWO WERE THE REAL MVPS ???

[kakaocho]

Au where Viktor, Powder and Ekko are the same age and besties 🥹🩷

And yes, they're painting Viktor's cane :)

[lullabyes22-blog]

Arcane Fandom drinking game.

tw: racism, misogyny, classism, ableism.

tw: fandoms in general, ig?

Take a shot if:

Sevika is reduced to this exoticised, hypersexualized, sub human caricature with no exploration into her motivations, her family, her issues as a disabled woman or her experiences as a working class person who grew up in a literal slum - and instead serves as a sex toy with body heat, who exists solely to get the reader off.

Take two shots of she is neutered instead of oversexualized, and reduced to the Mammy stereotype wherein her only purpose is to roll her eyes and provide commentary on the (white) characters/readers' antics, the latter of which drive the plot.

Take a shot if:

Mel Medarda is reduced to a living example of the Jezebel stereotype: oversexualized in the most dehumanizing and demeaning language possible, made a literal receptacle for other characters' desires with no attempt to engage with her motivations as a politician or her feelings as a woman, or else blamed for every single problem in the show, because apparently an ambitious woman is synonymous with 'The face of pure evil,' a woman who has sex and uses it to express agency is an insatiable slut, and a black woman is literally the devil incarnate.

Take two shots if she's taken the other extreme, and her ambitions, flaws, and sexuality have been wiped away completely, leaving only a hyperperfect husk of a character behind, for us to rally around with empty cries of 'Yaas Queen!' and no attempt to critically examine a) the problematic nature of the praise and b) the essence of what makes her human, and what drives her forward, in the first place.

Take a shot if:

Ekko is reduced to his crush on Powder/Jinx, with no attempt to engage with the complexity of the fact that his best friend warped into a monster, nor the ways in which he himself is a product of Zaun's poverty and his relationship with his community, the impact of trauma on children, his complex relationship with violence and his own moral compass, nor the fact that he is an activist, a freedom fighter, an artist, and an engineer, all at age eighteen.

Take a double shot if the characterization veers the other way, and he is portrayed as 'Forever Alone' because black men cannot have healthy relationships, do not deserve to have a full range of complex emotions, and should be punished by having their most deeply held wishes, friendships, and loves crushed to dust before their eyes, for daring to dream of a better life and a world that loves them.

Take a shot if:

Jayce Talis is not even acknowledged in fanworks as a mixed race man, nor as a person of color, with no attempt to engage with the complexity inherent in his experience of privilege, and the ways in which he is a product of his upbringing, and where these factors intersect with class commentary. Take a half shot if the character is whitewashed, and turned into the kind of bland, boring, vanilla caricature that we're used to seeing in media in perpetuity, who exists as a foil to the villains, a symbol of virtue, and a blank slate on which the viewer is meant to project themselves and their own beliefs.

Take a full shot if the character is the epitome of the white savior trope: a smug, paternalistic, know-it-all white man, whose self-assurance in his own superiority allows him to walk in and take over a conflict, then tell people what to do.

Take two shots if characterization veers the other extreme and he's just a sweet, dumb, himbo puppyboy with no personality, no goals, no desires, and no motivations of his own, save for making Viktor happy and doing his best to be a good boy.

Take three shots if Mel is the one leading him by the nose, because nothing says 'nuance' like making a black woman the villain for the sin of having agency and not existing solely for vilification.

Drink the whole bottle if:

Caitlyn, an Enforcer and a Councilor's daughter, is portrayed as a sympathetic sweetheart angelcake, without being forced to confront the actions of the state and the institution of which she is a part, without being forced to face the consequences of her complicity in the system that oppresses others, nor without being forced to recognize the fact that her actions and her words are not, in and of themselves, inherently just, and the fact that her privilege does not automatically grant her moral authority.

Drink another if she is portrayed as a damsel, an innocent, a child who needs to be protected and cared for, rather than a full person with agency and a complex emotional landscape of her own.

Drink again if the characterization leans the other way and she is turned into a classist caricature, an entitled bitch who doesn't even realize she's the bad guy, or gets turned into a literal Nazi because, once again, folks cannot engage with complex topics such as classism, racism, ableism, etc. and instead resort to infantilizing, simplistic, and reductive portrayals.

Stop drinking and switch to cyanide if her characterization hinges on her relationship with Vi, within which Caitlyn is the dominant top here to 'tame' this feral subhuman, with no understanding of the uncomfortable and undeniably harmful implications of such a power dynamic.

Drink the rest of the alcohol stash if:

Vi, an adult, a former convict and a street savvy survivor, is reduced to an angsty, moody, petulant puppydog off her leash, unable to take responsibility for her own actions, and her trauma is treated as an excuse for her behavior.

Drink another bottle if she is portrayed as a hypermasculine, toxic, violent, and Cait is the one forced to tame her, make her behave, and bring her into line, and her relationship with Vi is portrayed as inherently parent-child, or worse, caretaker-charge, without any regard for Vi's autonomy and right to be flawed as a human being.

Drink a fifth if Vi is portrayed as a hypersexualized aggressor for the audience's titillation, with no attempt to engage with the fact that butch lesbian women have more complex emotions than 'sex starved nymphomaniac', nor the ways in which Vi's abuse, abandonment, and trauma have impacted her relationship with intimacy and sexuality. Drink another if the characterization shifts the other way and Vi becomes a sexless robot who has no personality or wants, nor is given room to grieve for her family, her home, or her own trauma, and is instead expected to bounce back, get over it, and move on as nothing more than Caitlyn' Brave Buff Gf (tm).

Drink the entire bar if:

Viktor, a disabled man, is depicted as a neurotic, fragile, jittery wreck. Take two bottles if his disability is treated as a punchline, or the defining characteristic of his existence, and the only time we're meant to consider his body or his physical pain is when he's having an episode and collapsing, or having a coughing fit, and it's treated as a joke, rather than something which affects him and his ability to function.

Take three bottles if he's taken the other extreme and he is twinkified and babygirlified, and his sexuality and his love life are the only thing we're meant to care about, and his romantic relationship with Jayce is the only thing he's allowed to have, lest the audience think too hard about the ways in which he and his work might benefit Zaun, or how the Council might respond to a disabled person from an underprivileged background.

Take a fourth if the characterization shifts and he's reduced to a hypersexualized toy: a broken doll to be pitied and fetishized and cared for, and Jayce is his Daddy, his owner, his caregiver, his knight in shining armor, all in one.

Take a fifth if, in the midst of all this, his relationship with his disability, and the ways in which it has impacted his life and his choices, is completely glossed over.

Take six if his relationship with his disability is not even acknowledged.

Switch to cocaine if:

Jinx, one of the most complex characters in the show, and the only one with any sort of internal consistency, is reduced to a whiny helpless brat who just wants a hug and an explanation for her widdle feewings from a big strong grownup.

Take an eightball if her relationship with her sister, her trauma, and her mental health is reduced to the 'Hot Psycho' trope: an excuse to play up the 'cool' aspect of her personality while completely ignoring the trauma at the heart of her actions/behavior. Take another if the characterization swings the other way, and she's reduced to a one-dimensional villainess, a demon, an amoral monster, and the only motivation for her actions is the fact that she is a crazy bitch, and the only reason for her existence is to serve as a foil for Vi's goodness and the audience's own hangups re: mental illness and critically engaging with the more unpalatable aspects of human behavior.

Switch to crack if her relationship with Silco or Vi is not even mentioned.

Pour a glass of absinthe if:

Silco, a single parent, a survivor of violence at the hands of a loved one, a victim of systemic abuse, and a revolutionary, is portrayed as the ultimate villain, and his desire to fight for a better life for his community is somehow worse than the Council's decision to literally silence everyone in the undercity via chemical runoff, political neglect and police brutality.

Pour two if he is a cartoonish, hamfisted boogeyman, with no sense of his humanity, nor the ways in which he is a product of the same systems that hurt every undercity character, and the ways his actions replicate the cycle of abuse and hurt the ones he seeks to save in turn.

Pour a third if he becomes an unrepentant sadist, a child abuser and a sexual predator, and there is nothing loving or fatherly about his relationship with Jinx.

Pour four if the character is taken to the other extreme and he's sanctified as a literal martyr and hero, and all his wrongdoing is glossed over because he's just a ~victim~, and everything he does is justified, no matter how terrible, because he had a traumatic childhood or his abusive ex didn't die soon enough. Eat the sugarcube if his bond with Jinx is suddenly a wholesome Disneyfied gag-fest wherein he calls her "Pumpkin" and babies her like a toddler, and their relationship has zero codependent overtones, and she's suddenly a sweet innocent who doesn't have blood on her hands, same way he's not the one who sanctioned it.

Eat the bottle of absinthe if Silco is given the tumblr sexyman treatment, and suddenly he's just a walking Daddy Kink, with no regard for the ways in which he is a complex person, nor the ways in which he and other characters might actually interact, or his history or his trauma or the way it impacts his life.

Drink the whole liquor cabinet if:

Zaun is portrayed as a dystopian hellscape rather than a robust, vibrant, diverse community, with a wide range of experiences and a deep and nuanced relationship with authority, power, and violence. Break into the cellar if, instead, it's just a shitty stereotypical ghetto, full of criminals, addicts, and victims.

Light a cigarette if Piltover, a technological juggernaut that also has a diverse immigrant population, and a vibrant and rich cultural identity, is reduced to a bland, generic, vanilla utopia, and is full of pompous blowhards who have never engaged with the undercity outside the scope of the narrative.

Light a molotov cocktail if it swings the opposite direction and Piltover is turned into an neoliberal nightmare, a soulless, shiny, hollow, plastic, faceless wasteland, populated only by vapid, shallow, self absorbed stooges and shills who have no depth or personality of their own.

Throw the molotov and light the house on fire if:

'Piltover and Zaun' is not even mentioned, and there is no acknowledgement of the way these two cities shape the cast of characters who reside within these systems, much less a mention of the ways in which the characters might not be fully representative of the communities they are a part of, and the fact that they are still very much human beings with individual experiences.

If you didn't get alcohol poisoning, a whopping hangover, or a charge of arson: congratulations.

You win.

[local-crying-boy]

🄴🄺🄺🄾

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𝕆𝕦𝕣 ℂ𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕞𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕖

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙴𝚔𝚔𝚘 𝚡 𝙶𝙽!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙾𝚗𝚎-𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝, 𝚙𝚛𝚎-𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙, 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝙴𝚔𝚔𝚘 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚌,𝙿𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙴𝚔𝚔𝚘 (𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚖)

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚢, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 <<𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚘 '𝚌𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜-𝚏𝚢' 𝙴𝚔𝚔𝚘'𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚛.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 951

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The fireflies didn’t have much, but, when they had built up their little civilisation, they built what they needed to live and not just survive.

The bare tree that was once founded by Ekko all that time ago, had flourished into a beautiful place in the Undercity that was able to accommodate all kinds of people in need, families were built there, even in all the horrible conditions of the Undercity, even with Silco’s damaging and brutal leadership.

There were people from all ages, from all different backgrounds (all backgrounds from the Undercity, that is), all who ended up in this quaint place. A simple tree. A tree that was able to survive even down in the Undercity.

The symbol of survival, against all odds.

Though, sometimes, even a symbol, such as this, needs some Christmas cheer, right?

Well, that was exactly what you had in plan! Collecting all the little ones from the secret base, you asked them to collect some objects to bring a little bit more cheer to the tree.

Of course, they obliged, running around as if they had decided to make it a little game amongst one another. You, then, went on your own little quest, trying to salvage any ‘Christmasy’ lights you could find that was discarded due to being broken, or not needed anymore.

When you returned with some sort of working lights and the children returned with anything that held some Christmas cheer, you set out to work on brightening up the place with the children’s help.

Maybe you should have asked for Ekko's permission before deciding to do it, but... everyone in the Fireflies needed some joy and moral around the place, sure, most of the people living by this somehow surviving tree were already happy, but, sometimes, even there, happiness was rough to hold onto.

It meant that Ekko was rather surprised, to say the least, when he returned from the day away from his home to see how decorated it was now due to yourself and the little ones.

"So, I've been hearing from the children around here that they helped with decorating around here." You heard a familiar voice when it was late evening.

You turned around from the makeshift desk you were at, having just been trying to fix up your hoverboard. You chuckled light and shrugged. “Well, really, I helped them out.”

Ekko shrugged, pushing himself off of where he was leaning against to walk over to you. “Either way, they seemed happy.”

You smiled to yourself, that was the whole goal of the decorations: to make the children here happy.

“Thanks.” Ekko simply said, having been looking at you when he said it, but he soon looked down at your hoverboard.

You gave him a small nod, you would have done similar stuff for everyone here, but resources were limited and it would have been harder. The children were easier to please, and happy kids meant happy adults. “No problem.”

“It’s… hard to keep moral up, since, y’know, we don’t have a lot.” Ekko continued, he really didn’t have to, it was common knowledge around here, but he continued regardless. “And you help out with that, more than you need to.”

You let out a shocked laugh, the little comment on your attempts wasn’t something you had expected. You didn’t really think about everything you did around here, you simply did it because you thought it would help out, even in the slightest.

“You could be miserable, or focused on all the negatives, like everyone else.” he pointed out, looking up at you, he trailed off though once both of your eyes met.

You let out a chuckle, breaking the eye contact between you to look down as you shook your head. “Now, that wouldn’t help, you know that.”

“Yeah.” He agreed, now, also looking away from you.

There was a moment of silence between you two, but he broke it eventually.

“Is it broken?” Ekko asked, his hand motioning towards the hoverboard of yours on the table.

Your focused moved onto your hoverboard, you had almost completely forgotten it was there. “Oh, yeah. I went out on it the other day, took too sharp of a turn and something broke in it.”

Your finger ran over a part of it, a grimace on your face as you remembered how you fell, you’d still been bruised up from it. “Been meaning to fix it, but…”

“You’ve been playing around with the kids?” He finished for your sentence with a laugh.

You nodded, placing your hands on your hips as you laughed alongside with him. “Yeah. Yeah…”

“I’ll fix it for you.” Ekko offered, looking down at it once more, as if he was already planning on what to do to fix it, you could have sworn you saw the clogs in his head.

You shook your head, there was no need, you knew what you were doing. “That’s fine, I got it.”

“No, no, I insist.” Ekko said with a wave of his hand, the same hand soon running over the hoverboard, mapping out what needed fixing.

It looked fine at first glance, but Ekko was easily able to see what was wrong with it.

“Consider it a Christmas present.” He said with a shrug.

You laughed, shaking your head as your arms crossed over your chest, there wasn’t really much point with arguing with the guy. “Fine, fine, go for it. It’ll probably get done faster.”

He hummed, glancing over at you as he moved to pick it up. “It would’ve been done the other day, have you told me it was broken.”

You could only let out a chuckle. “Thanks, Ekko.”

“No problem.” He only said as a response.

The white haired boy was quick to leave with your hoverboard in his arms, and you only watched.

Now, you had to think of something to do for him for Christmas.

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Masterlist

[here-for-fanart]

I legit thought Ekko was lying on a pillow, till I looked closer. 👀 I have never been more happy (and turned on) to be wrong.

They are both so fucking hot. My bi brain is on fire.

Me, like:

timebomb

my beloved warm cuddly duo

would love to draw jinx and ekko more, but I really have to work on the viktor animatic for now, hopefully can go back to them sometime soon uwu

[fivesillydandelions]

ARCANE 2.07 — "Pretend Like It's the First Time"

[episodeofdee]

little man and his little lady ⏳💣💥

[timebombzine]

⏳ INTEREST CHECK IN 7 DAYS ⏳

Explore the relationship of Arcane's Ekko and Jinx with us in our upcoming zine, Dancing With You. We can't wait to hear all your feedback!

Art by @vickychendraws

[kaoskuantico]

We were robbed of Sevika and Ekko calling out Vi in Act I

When Vi became an enforcer, Sevika should have been like “you’re playing lapdog to topside, just like your old man” or like “and you called me a traitor?” or something