#but i cant accept it because people cant accept it
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one thing i will never ever be able to get over as someone who has an online following is when people hate on me 'because my vibe is off' or 'im too nice' or 'they definately do nsfw'.
i dont know why people cant just accept that im me... im a friendly overexcited dog who is asexual and loves spreading happiness.
sure, social media is curated and u dont get to see me at my lowest but i am genuinely like how i am online irl...
i think it upsets me so much because these ppl dont know me yet im still thinking about what they say. and everytime this happens, i wonder if i should just delete my online presents.. i think one day i will even though i really dont want to
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Sorry, two requests in one go but I NEED TO GET THIS OFF MY SYSTEM OR I FORGET
Same platonic dynamic with Boothill, Welt, Jing Yuan and Blade with reader who turned into a small child all of a sudden (around 2-3 years old, so toddler)
🌑 RAAHHH FEED ME (I couldnt resist the angst sowy :)) Also am I crazy or do they all give girl dad... they all feel like girl dad's to me, expect maybe Jing Yuan 😅
✦ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥 ✦
Possibly the most experienced in this field actually???
Not to remind y'all of the absolute angst of his backstory, but he adopted a little kid in the past so... he's actually pretty knowledgeable when it comes to kids
Doesnt make this smooth sailing tho
Firstly, he's super confused on how this happened and how to undo it - spends so much time stressing about it that he almost forgets he has to take care of you now until you start screaming
Now that he's looking at you, oh you're so cute it should be illegal
Cuteness aggression to the max with the most self-restraint a man could possibly have (knowing he could easily seriously hurt you)
Once he accepts that his only option is waiting it out, he's focusing on making sure you're comfy
Surprisingly very in tune with your wants and needs
Overall, you'll be well taken care of with him, though the moment you're soundly asleep, memories of the past come back to haunt him, reminding him of all he lost
Though he reasons with himself that the past has passed and all he can do is keep going without letting it drag him down
And you're helping him do just that ❤️
✦ 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐭 ✦
Utterly confounded
Mostly just curious
How did this happen? Do you still have your memories? Did your brain also revert back?
But he also cant deny how freaking cute you are🥺
Very gentle, holding you close, whispering softly even if you're screaming - makes you sleepy immediately
If you start screaming incoherently he's gonna have a hard time figuring out what you need but will try his best and remain calm the whole time
Does anything you want him to, literally
Want to play dolls? He's making a cute voice and everything. Want him to read to you? Putting on the softest tone known to man and putting you to sleep before you're through the first page
This also applies to food - whatever you want to eat, he's letting you, since he knows this situation must be pretty stressful and he doesnt want you start screaming at him :(
Once it's over he probably wont mention it again to you in case you think it's embarrassing, but will keep the sweet memory close to his heart - it makes him feel fuzzy to think he could take care of you when you're so vulnerable
Also you're just so damn cute, he cant get over it 😭
✦ 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐚𝐧 ✦
Give him a second he's gonna have to laugh about this for a while
Decent experience with teens and older children because of Yanqing and other students he's trained, but toddlers?
No clue, he's so lost
Genuinely tries to apply lion cub logic
It's the closest experience he's had to raising a kid ok?! He's trying 🥺
Probably ends up getting yelled at by Yanqing because no, human children do not work in any way similarly to lion cubs >:(
After that he's trying a little harder
He's surrounded by people who know more than him on this so he's putting you on his hip and carrying you around while he asks them what to do
Comes back to his office after and puts you down, not realizing that you're crawling over to Mimi
Nearly has a heart attack once he does realize but it's all good, Mimi's a good boy and just naps while you play with his mane
He was honestly ready to use you as an excuse to not do this work and seeing you napping with Mimi just solidifies it for him
The next time Yanqing comes by to make sure you're ok, he finds you all cuddled up on Mimi, so he leaves with a fond sigh
Jing yuan was totally awake btw
✦ 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞 ✦
Oh sweet god he is not equipped for this AT ALL
Immediatly running to Kafka or Firefly for help (Silver Wolf is suddenly not so mysteriously absent) and they are somehow even less helpful than he is
Grumbling the whole time but does try his best to care for you
Does NOT know why you're screaming pls stop 😭
Has a surprising among of patience - he knows what children are like, so he's not blaming you for anything you do or losing it on you
He's good at keeping himself calm when the situation doesnt require him to lose his shit
Excels at... napping :)
Honest to god cant think of much else to do with you besides putting a sword in your hand, which both Kafka and Firefly scold for even thinking about
Cant really blame him, that's what his parents did and he turned out just fine :) (Note the sarcasm)
Something in his cold (literally) dead heart warms at the sight of you fumbling about and smiling sweetly at him
He never thought himself particularly inviting but he sure doesnt mind that you think so
The whole situation has him pondering his past but most of all, his humanity - what he lost of it and what he still has
#hsr#hsr x reader#honkai star rail#hsr x you#hsr x y/n#hsr x gender neutral reader#honkai star rail x gender neutral reader#honkai star rail x reader#honkai sr#honkai star rail x you#boothill x you#boothill x reader#hsr boothil#welt yang#hsr welt#jing yuan#blade hsr#hsr blade#hsr platonic#boothill honkai star rail#boothill#hsr boothill#honkai starrail#jing yuan x reader#jing yuan x you#jing yuan x y/n#jing yuan x gender neutral reader#welt hsr#welt x reader#welt honkai star rail
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i keep thinking about them in terms of for and against each other: thirteen's against, twelve's for, eleven i think would be against, ten's for, and i haven't watched anything before him (yeah ikk im getting to it soon. watched it w my parents the first time so its on them) so i can't speak beyond that. dhawan's against, missy's for, and simm's against. like they've all got at least a little of both but they have a general direction
twissy worked out because they both cared about each other. missy came to help the doctor when he thought he was going to die, the doctor... locked her up, but he did have good intentions. i dont think we can say spydoc worked out, but i think since they both hated each other it went smoother than it could have. and tensimm was fucking doomed (neither of them want the same thing. they want each other to be different people)
twelvesimm, which was overshadowed by twissy but still deserves a mention, i think is similar to tensimm but with time could have had a higher chance of success, since 12, i think, might have responded more to him rather than trying to push him into someone who wanted to be better. tbh it might depend on the doctor's mood that day, im a little uncertain about this one but at the very least its a vaguely more functional tensimm
thrissy would break me. thrissy would be the anti-tensimm. missy shows up, still an enemy but also always, willingly and knowingly, a friend, and this time it's the doctor who says no. who tells her to fuck off, less distrust than expected and more loathing. they fight until missy realises it's not their usual games, and the doctor's gone too far stopping her. i mean come on her master tried to have her and her companions killed but it's not like he actually did it-- but she turned him over to the fucking nazis before she even knew he destroyed gallifrey, and missy killed osgood just after the doctor offered to have her as a companion, how would 13 take that?
11missy (elmissy? elemissy? mileven? no.) would run similarly, but if we're going with her using her same plan that she used on 12... he would take the army. he would take the army, however little he trusted her. i can see it going a few ways-- she leaves or he kills her or he locks her up somewhere because he's the doctor and she's the master and that's what he does, she comes back and suggests conquering the universe together or something, he says no and they fight, he says yes because he excuses murder if it aligns with what he wants, or if he likes the person enough (look at who he married!!) and they murder across the universe and we have canon thoschei until a companion saves the universe from them or river gets jealous
11dhawan would be AMAZING they have VERY similar energy and it would be SO much fun but also-- parallels? you could do so many little parallels with that? we see them spin the same way at the same time and they hate each other but one comments on something walking down a hallway and the other comes by and says the same thing and ughhh who do i pay to make this happen??
12dhawan has a special place in my hearts and i cant completely say why i just need them to meet. i need to be there when the master shows the doctor the timeless child and he cant accept it. idk if he'd be able to go the "there's more of me!" way out that 13 did, but he might be able to half do it, in that he realises he can overload the system but they break out of there through spite. i need to be there when the doctor says that ofc burning gallifrey is wrong, but he sides with the master. they lied to us. they lied to both of us. i need to see the master's anger, because he's being forgiven again. but he's not forgiving him, it's more that he understands, or like what he said to clara-- do you really think i care for you so little that betraying me could make a difference?-- and the master doesn't know what to do with that. he is so close to being better. but he doesn't want to be. so he burns himself up
10missy would work BUT i think 10 might take the army and theyd be less functional than twissy
I FORGOT THE ONES AFTER 13 skipping 14 bc he blurs into 10 for me even though they're different, but 15 would be for and he and missy would both hurtle into "this is MY queer friends to enemies to whatever the fuck we are and i can be as weird and dramatic about it as i like" not only are they both for but they're both on the exact same level as to what their relationship is and they're so fucking weird about it it's brilliant. varies a bit depending on who missy kills but i think there's a lot of chaotic potential there
but also if the master starts being too dramatic he would just tell them to shut up. which would also be brilliant
ANYWAY if anybody writes about any of these versions PLEASE tag me i need to read about them. pigeonentity on here and ao3. please
to me thoschei is one of those dress up games where i get to mix and match different items of clothing (versions of the doctor and the master) to create stunning outfits (tragic relationship dynamics)
#tw nazi mention#doctor who#dr who#dw the master#the master#the doctor#tenth doctor#eleventh doctor#twelfth doctor#thirteenth doctor#fifteenth doctor#missy#missy dr who#missy dw#simm!master#dhawan!master#spy!master#spydoc#twissy#tensimm#elevensimm#twelvesimm#11dhawan#12dwahan#thrissy#10missy#11missy#15missy#thoschei#save
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SPEAKING OF RYUJI ive been thinking of adding his own crashout to the okumura arc at the same time as mona. because drama.
like. i know. i know everybody collectively goes UUHHHHGGGG during this part and i get why. i totally get it. its frustrating cause you just wanna shake the characters and tell them to talk to each other. (and i think a lot of people are frustrated by it because they just Dont like morgana and think hes annoying. none of that here)
not to mention how it overshadowed harus intro arc (which is also why im still debating it) but i feel like this could be remedied by. introducing haru earlier. we meet goro in june and he doesnt join the team til november. no reason we cant set haru up early too.
is this behavior in character for morgana? yeah id say so. could it have been written more smoothly? very yeah. listen i could go on about morgana and why this crashout of his Works with his arc and why characters like him are so squeezy toy to my brain BUT. later. ryuji time
i know ryuji isnt really the kind of kid to hold grudges. every time someone he cares about is angry with him, he thinks its more or less acceptable if they take it out on him. its just all he knows (but its not really okay!) but hes gone through the grueling psychological trauma of an awakening and. the truth of the matter is. kamoshida isnt the only person who he should tell to stop looking down on him
morgana does it all the time. and its rare i hear any objections from the gang other than a “will both of you knock it off” as if ryuji isnt outright being provoked. and yeah you could say this is just how they are. ryuji is a teenager and morgana is like two. communication blunders of the ages. ect.
and i do think this is part of it. some people have friendships full of teasing and ribbing on each other. but they Lead with Nice. you have to like. treat someone with enough kindness to warrant being able to playfully dig at them as a friend and morgana.
hasnt? sure theyre able to rely on each other as team mates but mona is just needlessly a little bitch. a lot.
i think the two do genuinely care about each other. that they can act like friends and they are friends. but. consider. its not enough that morgana has to stop being mean. morgana should have to be nice.
because when mona says “ryuji you idiot” or “you dumb monkey” or “youre pathetic” ryuji does, in fact, Not hear “ryuji i know you can do better” its literally just words hes endured for years at this point. and again!! i dont think mona has treated him nice enough to reach bullying privileges!
morgana has set the tone for pretty much every interaction he has with ryuji and the kid is just meeting him where hes at. which is why ryuji so easily calls morgana useless and thinks nothing of it. i mean (gestures to everything morgana says to him that the gang regards as normal and fine)
and the gang needs to object a lot more loudly to the ryuji slander. but they dont. and i think ryuji should have his own crashout moment because hes sick of morgana dragging him and no one really saying anything. they should have to have this moment where theyre like. aw fuck have we been bad friends? shit
and also realize that. them enabling mona to bully ryuji does not exist in a vacuum. it has consequences. and has in part fostered the dynamic that has ryuji so easily insulting mona. which leads to the cat running off in the first place
#persona 5#persona 5 royal#p5r#p5#ryuji sakamoto#morgana p5#p5 apotelesma#ch. ryuji#ch. morgana#apotelesmeta
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monster hunter anon here, cant speak for all furros but maybe it was the petit-borgeoisie particles from being an artist, plus being paid in dollars (compradorismo talvez?), alongside whatever other... path of life, digamos assim, leads one to becoming acceptable of milei. to quote them, claims to "never be a fan of any politician or political party.", proceeds to "if I see changes and my life improves thanks to that... well I'll be pro Milei ha." maybe i oughta learn 3d modelling and steal his spot, huehue, zurdo de mierda's modelación de monstros
we need more leftist furros
And yes, every time you hear someone who is "apolitical" here in Argentina it's a dead giveaway they voted for Milei. He also had a very strong campaign in, let's say nerdy circles with the whole lie that he would take off taxes about dollar transactions (so that would make things like videogames cheaper) and many people unironically voted for him because of that
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i also don’t want to portray myself as faultless. my work isn’t ai and it isn’t copied. but nk will say i Had old pieces that were copied and referenced ai. Yet it isn’t good faith when i apologize, state how i took accountability, and explain thats definitely not the case today because i learned my lessons- to respond with well you made these mistakes in the past so how can i believe you, you are lying, and have not changed.
so i quit. how can i prove myself then besides what i mentioned in the last post. my question is will you even ALLOW me to prove myself. each time i must explain, i place a spotlight on something that was resolved agreeably with the artists, resolved by removing the works, and resolved within myself by learning from it. but by not saying something i also allow You to concoct narratives and have to watch people spread them around and come to me demanding apologies. it is a very uncomfortable very distressing process that has worn me down completely.
never mind that other artists who have copied have not nearly been requested to apologize as much as i have been. never mind that they were forgiven when they removed the works or even when they just say sorry and don’t remove the work at all. But you still choose to hound me afterwards for doing just that?
nk has stated that i have not fixed this. and that i must address it. how many times though? for how long also? who on this planet starts the conversation by recounting all their mistakes, especially when they know they are resolved.
i have had to learn my lessons through cruelty like yours. trust me its a trauma i have to bear and they are not lessons you then forget.
my anger and my feelings of defeat come from the fact that even after nk was still talking like i had not even attempted to make progress. just look at your tone here.
#im going to fking throw up this is the last time i will ever say this#do not come begging to be for another apology i am done#i will never address this issue again okay#i need to say this because no matter what when i see people supporting me now i feel guilty#i recognize it is just because i hate myself#it is because i havent accepted i made mistakes#but i cant accept it because people cant accept it#i cant accept it and i cant move on#and that is why i think its best to leave art#i cant make work i am proud of anymore#i dont want to list names of artists#but i will say that when king chris reposted my work without credit i viewed it the same as when i referenced other artists work#but there was no callout no request even from the comments for credit#and he has millions of followers#i felt like i could not stand up for myself because i have this history#because of this history i can never properly defend myself i feel i must always kneel to it#even though i have changed and realized i was wrong i still have to acknowledge it always
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(this reblog starts on the 4th lol)
IS HE SEARCHING FOR US FOR DAYS???? JESUS FUCKING CHRIST
wait why am I crying why is this so beautiful in a way (and why did I relate Reader being a noxian to being a woman nowadays- like, we have to be this and be that and people think we don't have our moments of vulnerability but when we have is something to be ashamed of or made fun of- ok ill shut up)
I want to cry he's so sweet :(
NOOO HE WANTED TO TOUCH HER :(((((
THEY BROKE OUR HAND?????????? ARE YOU KIDDING ME ARTIST'S WORST NIGHTMARE RIGHT HERE
jesus christ this is a suicidal mission after all why didn't I see this coming katy when i catch you
I legit feel like crying of emotion from how well you write these dialogs like wdym this isn't real??? THIS IS OBVIOUSLY REAL LIKE ??? HELLO??? WDYM IT CAME FROM YOUR HEAD
do you see this world building??? katy I want to be you when I grow up
"this is why I liked you from the get go." DON'T MAKE ME CRYYYYYYY AHHHHHHH
jesus christ I've only read like 1/6 of it what the fuck
I CANT BREATH WITH FIGHTING SCENES HELP MEEEEE AHHHHH
"Looks like you didn't learn your lesson after Jinx, huh?" KATY WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IMMA NEE DTO THROW HANDS WITH YOU
WE ARE SO BADASS LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
HELLO WHAT IS THIS IS THIS A THROWBACK IS THIS MEMORIES WHAT IS THIS KATY WHAT IS THIS
OH FUCKING HELL GET BACK YOU DEMON WHAT THE FUCK
oh my fucking christ I literally got chills
oh the way he softens seeing us awake :( i dont want to continue i know this will end i dont know if this will end good though katy im scared of you
(long time skip on my end, now it's feb 8 😭)
the way he gets curious but then R feels how it is like to be asked was a kick to the already beaten me
VI WAS VISITING!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰 HI POOKIE DOOKIE
Vi is literally that "it's always me and you and you and me and your friend STEVE-" but because she sees this thing going with the both of you ☺️
HE ACCEPTED TO HELPRK29WAAAAA😭😭😭😭😭😭
katy what tbe fuck I literally cried when we were on Mrs. Talis interview I could hear her old and shaky voice but I don't even know how she sounds like????,
INVITING HIM OVER 👀👀👀
one answer to that particular scene: 🧎➡️ folded
SIR HELLO ARE YOU TRYING SOMETHING OR SHOULD I GET SCARED
he didn't go away 😭
oop, hiding Viktor are we? I see you Katy 🧍
THESE TWO DUMB MFS PLAYING LIKE HIGH SCHOOLERS ON THE LIBRARY 😭😭😭😭😭 UGH
WAIT SO THAT'S WHY YOU TALKED TO ME ABOUT PORO YOUUUUUUUU *shakes you*
I'll literally give you the world for this little jealousy scene with Steb I swear to god 🧎➡️🧎➡️🧎➡️🧎➡️ "So.. you and Steb?" AJBSIWRKOQ*+*#¥×#?¥+*#×¥$ BARKING CLAWING THE WALLS PINCHING MY ARM AHHAHHAHRJWJAA
KATY I OWN YOU THE FUCKING WORLD
still scared because there's a shit ton of words still and for you to make this into tension again takes two words 🧍
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Bite Marks
Pairing: Ekko x fem! Reader
Word count: 18.6k
Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing), CW food mentions, TW death mention, body horror, CW violence and injury, TW blood and gore, alcohol mention. Slowburn, Part 3 of ink and bedrock, noxian! Reader. Spoilers for s2.
Ekko Masterlist
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Part 2 <<< Part 3 >>> Part 4
Ekko has been all over Zaun and Piltover, his board leaving trails of green smoke as he looks for you and the familiar shade of red you always wear. As the hand on his pocket watch ticks, his concern grows larger.
His first stop at the Vyx was hours ago, earning a shocked look from the business’ madam. He even tasked a few of his firelights to look for you after he combed the entirety of the lanes. While the search goes on, his worries eat at further. The wind turns harsh, cold and nipping at his skin while he hovers around at quick speed. Then, a last minute decision comes to mind, he turns his board around, twisting expertly around buildings to get to the docks where Sevika's place is near. Maybe she saw you, or better yet, you're there for another extra interview.
As he flies overhead, his eyes are cast down on the ground in hopes that he'll see you walking by. His heart almost sinks down to his stomach when he sees your noxian red jacket floating in the waters of Zaun. He drops down immediately at breakneck speed.
The water feels cool under you, waves crashing against your clothed legs, skin raising into pinpricks of goosebumps. Ekko finds you half submerged in the waters of Zaun, baptized by its tides, mixing in with your blood.
His boots crunch under the pebbled sand, footsteps measured and quiet as if he's trying not to startle a doe trapped in the jaws of sharp metal. Eyes roaming over your sitting form, legs folded on itself, arms embracing your body close— your blank eyes stare at the fading sunset in the horizon. Its hues paint you in its orange and pink glow, illuminating your swollen cheek, shining a light on your injuries.
The docks are quiet this time of day, no workers running around and trying to finish their quota for the day. No ships passing by, or machinery beeping and whirring above the sound of the waves.
Seagulls squawk above, wings flapping as they fly off into the sunset. The air feels fresher near the water, the cool breeze feeling like needles upon your heated skin. Your breath is shallow as you intake air, fists shaking as it remains tightly closed.
Ekko remains standing next to you, his own mind reeling from the sight of you, you whom he thought was invulnerable, tough like raw metal; and incapable of being the small form balled next to his feet. You're a force to be reckoned with, a noxian who's not afraid to bite. And yet, you sit on the banks shared by Zaun and Piltover, looking like a lost child.
Ekko knows this feeling well, having lived through it a dozen times before. He remembers the day he lost everyone he ever knew in a single night— the blank stare he had, the tear stained cheeks, and the hidden anger swirling in his eyes. All he ever wanted that day was for someone to stay with him, not to speak of apologies or comfort. Just for someone he knew to be there for him. So he sits down wordlessly next to you, following your heavy gaze to where the sun fades down into the water. The sky slowly turns a dark blue, as if waving goodbye to you.
A minute passes, then five, then ten, and he's still sitting there with you, his own lower half drenched in the water together with your own, his presence warming you. Your plan was for him to get used to you so that he'll slowly warm up to you— But you hadn't realized that he has done the same to you. With him just being there alone could help calm the buzzing in your ears, wave away the rose scented wind wafting across your bloodied nose to be replaced with the smell of seared metal and mint.
You open your split lips, wheezing a sharp exhale before speaking. Your lungs aren't any better than the state of your face. Chin placed atop your knees, the previous sunlight is now replaced with the street lights, its harsh white light not doing you any favors.
“S–Sorry, you must've been waiting for me back at the hideout.”
“I thought you were going to see Sevika?” Ekko still sits right next to you, eyes roaming all over your swollen and broken face. He notices your rolled up sleeves, free of your usual crimson jacket that now reveals battle scars dotted along your arms. Pinpricks of raised skin, marks left by a blade, long elongated scars that still bear the pain it once had.
“That was last week, Ekko. We finished last week.” You gesture with your head towards the councilor's home further away by the docks. Its towering roofs are unmistakable. Your shoes are completely drenched under the lapping tides, the water ebbing upwards and wetting more of your clothes. “No one's home anyway, I think she's stuck in a meeting at Piltover. My other interview went well at least, despite, you know.” Your hand ghosts all over your swollen face.
“Why didn't you fight back?” His voice is soft, not laced with a condescending tone or a reprimand.
For once, you think he's concerned about you.
“How'd you know I didn't?” You glance at him as best as you can with your black eye, seeing his hand reach towards you. His trepidation wins over him before retracting his hand back to his side.
“Your knuckles, they're pristine, spark.”
You chuckle at the use of the nickname, eyes flitting across your fists before unfurling them despite the throbbing pain on one of your wrists— all the while hiding the fact that your assailants might've broken your dominant hand.
“Guess they are.” They're as unclean as the dirt under your nails. “They ambushed me is all.” A moment passes between you as you let the cool water kiss your skin, drenching you and Ekko further and further with the rise of the tides. “I–I didn't want to fight, how would that look if they found me with their bodies? It could cause another crisis. Have another war on our hands.”
“They wouldn't be dead. You wouldn't have killed them.” He cranes his neck towards you, brows knitted together, eyes glimmering under the light.
“You don't know that, Ekko.” Your eyebrows furrow, fists opening and closing to shut your anger down. “I could've— I could, I know I can.”
“So you didn't bother to fight back?” He inhales, reeling in his anger that was untoward. Remembering that you're not the enemy. “Did you see their faces?” He gently takes your shoulder, eyes shining in the light as he stares at your split lips, swollen eye and bleeding brow. “Did they—” he inhales shakily. “Did they do anything else to you?”
You shake your head, hand gingerly wrapping around his wrist. He thinks you're about to pull him off of you, but you don't. Instead you run your thumb across the inside of his wrist. “They didn't. They took my bag and my pen before running off. I guess they were still afraid of me so they whacked me on the head and kicked me a few times before bolting off.”
Ekko nods, guilt written on his face. You know it well. “Or they were afraid of me.” He lets go, hand falling back on his lap.
You laugh despite the ache on your face, grin subsiding when you see his serious face. “Oh, you were serious? Yeah, sure, probably, bossman.”
He huffs, head shaking with a subtle smile. Another silent moment passes, it's a comfortable silence that has your mind finally calming down. His palms gather pebbles next to his legs, balling them together and picking up bits of colourful sea glass.
“That's pretty.” You say as he holds a blue sea glass in the palm of his hand. “Did you used to gather them up when you were a kid?”
Ekko reminisces, lips curling into a small bittersweet smile. “Off the record, spark?”
Chuckling, you scooch closer to look at the sand, pebbles and sea glass all bunched together in his hand. “Off the record, firefly.” Smiling, your index rummages through the pile, finding a bright emerald glass that reminds you of the shape of your old home. It's smooth around the edges, sheer but opaque enough to let the colour show.
“A few times.” He pockets the blue glass before picking up the green one and raising it above the two of you to see the light reflect on its smooth surface. “Used to swim here too, before the water got too murky and smelled of shit.”
“Now it doesn't smell like shit, thanks to you and Sevika.”
Placing the glass back down, he flips it in between his fingers. “I did it for my people, so the kids could experience what I had.” With a glance at you, he pockets the green sea glass before handing the pile on your waiting palm. “Why do you do this?” Blurting out, he expects you to glare at him, instead, you continue to rummage through the pile, wordlessly letting him continue. “You're noxian, you're doing something against your own people.”
You hum, tired eyes finding a shard of red sea glass among the pile of rocks. “I could be from Demacia or from Ionia, being noxian doesn't change anything. I hate their warmongering, a lot of us share the same sentiment, but not all of us. Not enough.” Heart stuck in your throat, you take the crimson glass, dropping the rest of the pile next to your feet, watching it plop down in the water. “That's why I'm doing this, the more people who know the effects of what they've done to the other nations, the more people would be against it. Something has to change.”
“What if it doesn't work? That you running around Piltover and Zaun would be for nothing?” He ducks to meet with your downcast eyes. “That you getting hurt would be for nothing.”
“Well, someone has to do it.” You smile sadly, “after this gets published for the whole world to read, I–I may not be able to go home.” The shock is evident in Ekko's brown eyes as he settles in on the sadness of your tone. “The moment I step foot in Noxus I— they could kill me for what I've written.”
Ekko inhales sharply, brown eyes scanning your features for a lie. He finds none. “They can't do that just because of it.” A half lie. He truly doesn't know that they would, only that they could be capable of it.
“They have. And they will. There are forces in Noxus that the world will never see, or even hear of.” Your eyes fill with unshed tears, a sob threatening to escape from your throat. “My professor was supposed to be here with me, did you know that?” Looking at Ekko, you see yourself in his eyes, finding the same hurt you have in those pools of light. “She lived a hundred lives, wrote more than anyone in the world has, dedicated her life to the truth. And she— she should be here, not me.” You throw the red glass angrily into the depths.
You stare at the ripples it has left on the water until it reaches you. “Mel found me in the bottom of a bottle, blacked out drunk just after I found out.” You grimace at your previous pitiful self. Ekko listens intently with an open heart. “She trusted me enough to continue my professor's work. I promised them both, Ekko.” Moving your head towards him, the tears flow freely from your eyes, mixing in together with your determination. “So please, we need to trust each other for this to work. Right now as we're talking, people in Ionia are dying from the hands of my own people, and people barely blink an eye at it. The entire time I've been here I've only seen the war mentioned in the papers twice. Twice!”
Heaving, you feel his arm hover above your back unsurely. You blink the tears away, wiping it with the crook of your elbow. “I may not be able to stop what's happening there, but I can warn people about it. Tell them their strategies, their ways of conquering so people would know how to defend themselves when they come. Noxus is on a conquest, and the entire continent is on its path.”
You continue as his eyes morph into worry. “Piltover was a lesson to them. Something to learn from so they could be better the next time. Bolder, and more terrifying than the last.”
“They're planning something, aren't they?” Ekko's eyes narrow angrily, mind going back to the fight.
“Mel thinks they are. They hate Piltover and even Zaun just because you helped. They could be, knowing what they're doing in Ionia right now. There's also that shit back home,” you spit out, cursing their very being. “Let's hope that they're too busy fighting themselves to set their sights back here.” You switch to a more light hearted tone after wiping down the tears gathered in your eyes. He seethes next to you, feeling his warmth ebb closer to your own form. So you try to calm the storm within him. Nudging him, you gently smile. “They hate you over there.”
“Do you?” He raises a questioning brow, air feeling much lighter than before as he stares at your unwavering smile. But the dark feeling still looms over his head, simmering into his hundreds of worries.
“No, I don't. I get why you've closed yourself to others, built a wall around you. I know it too well.” You sigh, hands rubbing along your arms for warmth. “And I don't hate you, Ekko. I rarely like people and I guess you're one of them now.”
“I'll take that as a compliment.” He uses your own words against you. His small smile fills your chest with comfort.
“Finally got the boy savior to smile.” Beaming at him, the lamp light illuminates your features.
He inhales, twisting around to face you fully, leg propped up with his elbow resting atop his knee. “If you want me to trust you, you need to tell me the truth.” His instincts still defy him from trusting you fully. “Who are you really? Before you took up a pen. And no more lies.”
“I…” you swallow down your trepidation, palms balling into fists before releasing the pressure. The scars on your skin feels like it's on fire. “...Was part of a guild back home, not the kind that weaves baskets or sells shit. The kind you didn't want to mess with. If you got the gold then we get the job done. Whether it's messy or clean, we do it. Then I was briefly in the noxian legion after my father pulled rank and dragged me into their shit show. I thought I would be doing good back then, until the real fighting started. Barely a fight when your enemies couldn't defend themselves.” You shake your head, regret spilling from your words.
Ekko listens with a stiff lip. “Then after a couple of years I went home and I found him—” you hesitate for a moment, choking in your own words. “My younger brother— passed and I was lost. So I went back to the guild, stained my hands for gold so that I could be worthy of a noxian death just like they have.” Shutting your eyes, you let a tear escape before exhaling and opening your eyes to see the open waters of Piltover. “Until I came across my professor. Or rather, I saw her on the end of my gun.” You chuckle at the memory, chest heavy with sorrow. “Can you believe that she managed to talk me out of killing her?”
“She must've been something.”
“She was.” You smile, nudging Ekko gently with your shoulder. “I had to lie to the council, Ekko. I told them I'm just a historian so they'd let me do what I need to do. If I told them I used to… they wouldn't have let me. My promise would've been broken before I could start.”
“You lied to the council?” He's impressed based on the tone of his voice. “What else have you lied about?” He challenges you with his sharp gaze.
“I actually did study under my professor. Straightened my life out, got my degree, masters. And got more degrees. I've got a talent for it, you see.” You proudly say. “I cut ties with the legion and the guild way before that so you don't have to worry about more noxians popping in the undercity looking for me.”
His brows knit together, trepidation on the tip of his tongue. “You must've been too young to do all that shit.”
You chuckle without humour. “They start you young back there.” Your tone wavers as you stare back into the dark depths, aching legs now stretched in front of you, watching the water lapping across your legs.
“Anything else?”
Humming, you feel the hard rocks underneath your palms, anchoring you back into the present. “I have no one else back home. Parents are long gone just a few years after my brother.” You shrug, shivering in the calming cold. “Everything else I've told the council and you were truthful.”
“And Mel? Did she know about you?”
“Yes. I thought she was going to recruit me like her mother did years before, and I almost fought her because of it.” You remember the day she trespassed in your own home only to find you almost passed out from drinking the day away. Good thing you blacked out before threatening the younger Medarda with your sword.
“I would pay good money to see that.”
“Is that a joke? Coming from the boy savior himself?” You smile, chuckling softly as you look at him.
“I—” his own smile fades, eyes darting behind you. “Right in the fucking open.”
Following his gaze, you see a familiar group a few ways away on the shore. They look weary and worried as they wait in front of what looks like a broken down building. The two of you watch as a large man opens the door and lets them in with a simple wave. It's a shimmer deal.
“Oh, now I remember what I'm doing here. Must be the concussion making me forget.” Standing up, you stretch your throbbing neck and dominant hand that's definitely broken from how you were shielding yourself from their onslaught of beatings.
“What? I know you want to help but you're injured.” Ekko clicks his tongue at you, arms crossed over his chest.
“They're the ones who took my pen, Ekko.” He gives you a pursed look. “Just like you, I don't do anything half assed. I heard them whisper about where they're trading it before they left me.”
“And here I thought you were here to brood.”
“Oh I was.” Shrugging, you unclasp your belt and pull it from the belt loops to wrap it around your fist in makeshift brass knuckles. The golden buckle shines under the moonlight, the carved rune on it taking Ekko's attention briefly. “I'm going to take back what's mine, Ekko, whether you let me or not. I'll hold back my punches, don't worry.”
“You can barely see straight and you're still bleeding. At least let me call for backup—”
“They'd be long gone by then.” You step in front of him, standing toe to toe with him in ankle deep water. “I've been hurt worse before.” Your walls crumble further down as you stare into his deep chestnut eyes. “The pen was my brother's. Please let me take it back.”
With apprehension, Ekko nods once. Before you could race towards the dilapidated building, he takes your hand gently to pull you away. “We need a plan.”
You smile, “this is why I liked you from the get go.”
—
Your banging fists against the metal door resonates throughout the whole building, shaking it at its core.
“Help!” Kicking and screaming, your throat pinches in your neck. What must've been a minute of yelling, the rusty door swings open, revealing the same man from before. His metal jaw tightens at the sight of your beaten up face. “Sir, please help me! I've been robbed and I just need—” just as planned, the same crew who ambushed you stands inside the room with a shimmer dealer. “Them!” Pushing past the metal jawed man, you manage to take him by surprise and even make it halfway inside the building before he captures you in his arms. “Where's my shit?!”
“It’s the noxian!” The one who held a gun to your temple says. Everyone seems to freeze up in place. Your pen and satchel is in his hands, ready to be traded, while the other is in the middle of exchanging it for a whole bundle of purple vials.
“You brought a fucking noxian here?!” A sharply dressed woman with face tattoos exclaims, worried eyes roaming over your form.
Now that the haze of pain from before has ebbed away by the rush of adrenaline, you now realize that the same crew who took your belongings and beat you were the same ones who tried to rob you on your first day in Zaun. Ekko's not going to like this.
With a swift back kick to the man's groin, you're free from his grasp as he kneels down on the dirty ground, groaning and tearing up. Running at quick speed, you raise your arm above your head as if you're shielding yourself from the sun. Your eyes hone in on them like a predator hunting its prey. Body moving on instinct, as if you never left the fighting behind. You barely make any noise from your rushed footfalls.
The sheer terror on each of their faces was worth almost getting captured. Luck seems to be on your side for now.
“Shit!” The group braces themselves, a few raise their weapons, guns and knives aimed at your form.
Just as you're near them, the glass roof above the building shatters. Glass shards fall like rain upon their shocked faces. With a streak of green light, Ekko drops down, hoverboard whirring as he strikes the dusty ground with his green clock arm weapon, twisting and turning around them on his board, collecting them in the middle and creating a whirlpool of dust and smoke to hide you from their eyes.
While they're too distracted by Ekko's tornado-like movements and the dust in their eyes, you tighten your hand around your belt that's still wrapped around your fist. The golden buckle glows, yellow light appearing around you like a halo as it creates a shield.
At a mad dash before your opening closes, you make it inside the curtain of smoke, quickly taking your things from the befuddled man in quick succession.
Jumping away and skidding across the ground, you meet up with Ekko just in time for him to stop right where you landed. He grabs you by the waist, guiding you up on his hoverboard.
“Got it?”
Looking down at your hands, you see your pen in your palm and satchel around your elbow. “Got them!” You hold on tight to his waist.
He pats your hand before kicking and flying up. As you fly higher and higher, you see the assailants cough and pick shards from their face and bodies. Serves them right.
“Let's go, Ekko. We'll get them next time—!” Before the hoverboard dashes away into safety, a loud thunk hits the metal fans inside, sparks flying, causing the board to malfunction and fall. “Shit!”
You feel his arms wrap around you as you both fall on the hard ground, puffs of green smoke enveloping around you.
Both of you clatter and split up on the dusty floors. A cloud of smoke trailing behind you as you skid on the rough ground harshly. You groan at the pain blooming on your head, hand feeling numb from how you landed wrong on it. If your hand wasn't broken before, it's definitely broken now.
Eyes wandering to your side, you see Ekko lying a few feet away from you, his eyes are bloodshot, capillaries broken from the fall. His nails dig into the dirt, trying to stand back up.
The hoverboard sparks from a couple steps ahead with a sharp dagger embedded in one of its metal fans. Your head throbs as fresh blood drips down your face, mixing in with the dried ones. Ekko yelps in pain, and you look at him immediately. His face is shoved on the dirt by a boot, and you immediately see red.
The next thing you know, you're up on your feet again, lunging and shocking the tattooed woman. She flinches and hurriedly throws daggers your way. dodging blades, you block it with your glowing rune that's still wrapped around your fist. But it may not be enough when a few nicks your arm and legs.
“Come on, noxian! Show me what you got!” The same one who had her foot on Ekko's head taunts. Her purple eyes from using shimmer glows, mixing in with the golden light the rune emits. Her feet dance with your own, auburn hair flowing as she dodges your frantic and angry attacks as you take her attention away from Ekko.
Meanwhile, Ekko shakily stands up, temple bleeding as his vision warbles for a second before clearing up. The four men look at him with frightened eyes, weapons clutched in their shaking hands. It seems that his reputation has gotten to them.
The firefly leader gets up, crimson flowing down on his lips, staining the ground in red. “Didn't I tell you to go home?” He kicks his hoverboard up, standing it straight into his waiting hands. His weapon is too far away from him to get a hold of, so he settles with the next best thing.
“Noxian gold pays better than being a bartender.” The one with the gun says, “are you running away, firelight?” He taunts, eyes narrowed at the hoverboard in Ekko's hand.
Ekko glances at you briefly, seeing that you're holding on your own despite your injuries, you've gotten hold of your sword again as blades crash against each other. Fixing his stance, he holds the board with two hands like a large bat ready to strike. His mind works on instinct, calculating all the ways they could attack him. And in turn, he plans his retaliation in his head. His breathing evens out, mind settling on a plan, and with a measured step, he bolts off towards them.
His head moves a few inches to the side, dodging a whizzing bullet, feeling the air run by him. Just like he thought it would. Then with a side step, he smacks the nearest man right on his head with his hoverboard, effectively dodging his rusty knife aimed at Ekko's side. Blood gushes out of the assailant's nose, eyes rolling back inside his head as Ekko knocks him out. Fountains of crimson splashing out whilst Ekko dodges again to avoid another bullet aimed at his leg.
Twisting around, his furious eyes hone in on the second man with a butcher's knife shaking in his lithe hand. The man slashes wildly at him, Ekko uses his board as a shield, but one passes through, the blade nicking his forearm. The man uses this opportunity to hack and slash at him frantically, and Ekko staggers backwards.
Then a sudden golden ring of light protects him, he glances at you, seeing that you're protecting him even though you're occupied with your own battle. With the protection, you give him time to immediately push the board towards his assailant and make the man stumble backwards and slam into the one with the gun. It accidentally goes off, shooting his own friend.
“Shit–!”
Ekko pushes and rams them both until they hit a stone pillar, smashing their bodies together on the solid wall. Their heads slam in tandem, a sickening crack bouncing off the walls just like how their heads bounced on the wall. They fall limp, knocked out and bleeding as they slide down the pillar together.
“Get fucked!” The unfamiliar voice says victoriously, spitting out blood as she staggers backwards.
Ekko hears you yelp in pain. Head turning towards you quickly. His eyes widen at your crouched form, your hands holding onto the broken rapier. He yells your name, feet already moving to shield you from the oncoming blow you're about to face. But he gets yanked backwards, hands flying towards his neck, he feels rough leather wrapped around him. Falling down harshly, his body skids across the ground as he's pulled and dragged towards the doorman whom you encumbered beforehand. Ekko didn't see him coming and standing back up from how hard you kicked the man in between the legs.
His choked breaths echo around the building, struggling against his binds whilst the man tightens his hold on him. A hulking arm wraps around his neck. The firelights leader struggles, legs kicking about and nails scratching at the man's arm. Ekko opens his mouth, biting down at flesh, drawing blood. But it barely fazes the assailant.
“I thought you would've fought better, boy savior.” The doorman chuckles against his ear. “Go watch your girl get her shit kicked in. Looks like you didn't learn your lesson after Jinx, huh?” He lifts Ekko up from the ground, making him watch as you receive blow after blow on your face and body.
You take it all in, shield building up but getting shattered almost immediately. The sound of Ekko's choking grabs your attention, mind remembering the same position your brother was in all those years ago. The thorns wrapping around his neck, roses blooming around him before he disappears into the rose scented void.
Ekko's vision fades away slowly, unconsciousness slithering and threatening to hold him down.
You see red, fire engulfing your body.
With a thudding heart, adrenaline fueling your broken body, you launch yourself towards your assailant, yelling a battle cry.
Pushing her down with a firm shoulder, making her fall backwards. You don't waste time in building the rune up with a silent whisper of words you learned years ago during your years in the legion. Clawing your way up to face her, you raise your fist as the golden light encases your whole hand. Quickly, yellow light engulfs the whole room, warmth seeping from your body and flooding everyone’s senses. Her eyes widen in horror as the light turns solid, like molten gold about to drip down on her face and scald her skin. The last thing she saw was the gilded punch meeting her nose, and the sickening crack of her cartilage filling your ears.
Warm blood stains your clothes, mixing well with the crimson tint of your noxian clothing. Spitting out ichor, you quickly grab a fallen dagger, sending it flying across the room and towards the hulking man holding onto Ekko.
He tries to use Ekko as a shield, but with a squeeze around the rune, you shield him with the warm light. The blade grazes the golden hue, harmlessly bouncing off of Ekko but hits the man directly on his shoulder.
The large man falls back, groaning in pain and letting Ekko go.
“F–Fucker.” You shakily heave out, stumbling towards Ekko as he gasps breathlessly whilst crouched on the ground. “Ekko.” He continues to cough out, hand placed on his bruised neck. “Ekko, move!” You now sprint, eyes wide as the doorman looms over him with the whip held menacingly.
With a guttural scream, you shield Ekko with your own body, grabbing the whip with your own arm as it wraps tightly around you. “Enough!” With a pulse of energy, you send it crawling up until it hits the handle and sending the man flying backwards into the wall with a hard thump. Your hands and clothes are smoking, letting out small puffs of auburn smoke. You give a hard yank at the leather, breaking the whip from its handle and tossing the weapon away, your eyes stares furiously at the man.
But he still doesn't give up or cower away, metal jaw grating as he clenches it tightly. You ram him further into the wall with your shoulder, barely making him stumble. So you quickly grab hold of the dagger embedded on his shoulder blade, wasting no time in twisting it until he's on his knees, yelling in pain.
“I said enough!” You scream, voice grating, eyes aflame. The rough handle of the knife fits perfectly in your grasp. “Stay down or I'll make you stay down.” The man nods, but you see a lie within his eyes. Yanking the blade out, you stab him again on the same spot, sending out ribbons of warm iron to splash across your face. He falls limp against the wall, unconscious from the pain and shock.
Ekko whispers your name, voice hoarse.
As you turn around to face him, you see the same woman you fought start to clamber up, crawling towards her fallen dagger.
You step around Ekko, eyeing her down, waiting for her to throw it towards you. Just as you predicted, she aims and throws it.
You raise your arm and shield in just the right time, slowing the blade's momentum until it's fully stopped in between the shield and mere inches away from your face. Grabbing the handle, you twist around, sending the dagger hurling towards her at great speeds. It hits her dead on the stomach. Her screams ring in your ears. You ignore it.
As you turn back around, you give Ekko a helping hand. He looks at your open palm that's stained with iron, then over to your face that's marred with running blood. Your heart clenches at the thought of him being afraid of you.
Instead of flinching and running away, he takes your hand in his. Staining his own hand with the same crimson. He holds onto your arm, and you hold him up with your hand grasping on his back.
“Are you okay?” You ask, tone whispered. Your vision warbles, legs shaking underneath your weight.
“I— that was you holding back?” He jokes, palm placed on the small of your back.
Chuckling, your smile fades as your eyes roll on the back of your head. Darkness encapsulates you, but warmth holds you in place.
“Spark!” Ekko catches you in his arms, hand placed right on your pulse. You feel like you're running a fever. He sighs when he feels your heart still beating, but it's slow. Dangerously slow.
He needs to get you out of here.
—
“Ekko?” Your voice is carried by the breeze as you set foot inside the familiar treehouse. You find him on his desk as usual, back hunched and turned away from you while the single red light of his lamp shines down on him. “I bought sweets as an apology.”
As you step closer, the door shuts close behind you, sucking in any light from the outside. “Are you still mad?” Once the words leave your lips, a searing heat hits your cheeks like a windblown flame carried by the breeze. “Jeez, can we open a window here? Your machine's going haywire again.” Chuckling, you cross the distance towards him, finding the familiar head of white hair. “Firefly?”
Your hands inch closer towards his still shoulder, the second your palm touches the soft cloth of his jacket, his head tilts back at inhuman speed— breaking his neck, bones cracking as thorny vines crawl from his neck up to his sunken cheeks. His brown eyes are now white as sheets, devoid of life.
“No! Ekko!” Flinching back, you hold your screams in your trembling hand, eyes wide as his limp body rises from the chair and floats above you with his arms raised to his sides. “Not him, you bitch!”
The fire in you settles in your chest, pushing you to lunge at the vines holding him up. As you click your pen and summon the gilded rapier, hacking and slashing at the vines— you try to cut him down. Desperately trying to free him.
“No, not him! Take me instead!” Your throat burns as you scream his name. Vines are cut but more replace them with every hit of your sword. “Please! You can't take another!”
Thorns fly from the severed vines, landing on you and piercing your skin in a gush of blood. But you don't stop cutting. Ekko's head tilts to the side, dangling loosely down to his clavicle as he opens his mouth and reveals a rose.
The room smells like funeral roses.
Suddenly, the vines holding him up bloom into bundles of red and black roses. The bulbs open up, revealing faces you've met, people you've cut down with your own bare hands.
The scent is overwhelming, acrid on the nose, a stench that cannot be washed out like the blood staining your hands.
As you look down at your hands, the sword clatters down on the floor as the void spreads around the room, shadows oozing from the torn off faces until darkness covers the whole place.
Your heart feels like bursting from your chest, hands trembling, feet frozen from under you as you look around the domain of chains and thorns. Tears flow down your cheeks freely as you watch Ekko hanging above you.
A silent scream escapes from your mouth when you see who's beside Ekko. There, trapped within the vines, skin pierced with thorns and eyes lifeless— is your brother.
“Hold—!” You reach towards him but you're yanked back by a vine and into the light.
Your head spins on its axis, vision blurry from the bright light shining from above you. Like the sun is in your eyes, warmth sweating through you akin to a fever. Heart beating like a war drum, you can still smell the roses in your nose.
Groaning, you place your hand above your eyes to shield yourself, only to find that your wrist is wrapped in a tight cast. The stark white plaster makes your head ache, a thrumming sensation bouncing around your skull. You feel like you're drowning in mud, sounds muffled and breath heavy in your throat. You can barely feel your fingers, wiggling each of the digits, your relief is palpable when they dance above the cast like rabbits peeking above the snow. You surmise that your wrist is broken.
“Shut the lights off, Scar.” Ekko's voice is the light in the tunnel you follow as the lights dim, and his face greets you from above. He sighs in relief, tensed brows easing up from the sight of your opened eyes. “You're awake.”
“Leaving you to her. I'll tell the others she's alright.” Scar's voice fades away as your eyes try to steady on Ekko's worried face.
Eyes narrowed at him, you purse your lips together, feeling the dry skin crack as you run your tongue over it. You exhale, breath shaky as you let it go. “Ekko?”
“Yeah,” sighing, you don't miss how his eyes wander towards your hand. “Water?” He asks, voice soft.
“Please.” The second the word escapes from your dry lips, you immediately hear water getting poured out into a cup for you. Roaming your eyes around the room, you recognize your surroundings— you're in Ekko's treehouse, all bundled up in his sheets, head placed atop his pillow that still has his minty scent wafting over your nose. “Why am I h–here?” Clearing your throat, he returns with a glass of water for you.
“You don't remember?” He asks permission to touch you, with a quick nod from you, he gently slides his hand on the back of your neck to sit you up. His thumb is placed right on your pulse, feeling your quick heartbeat under his finger.
You shut your eyes as the scene of the fight flits around in your vision. “I–I remember, why am I here?” You croak out the words.
“Drink first.” Ekko instructs, his hand is warm underneath your neck, while the other is cold as he holds the glass near your lips, condensation dripping from his fingertips.
You do as you're told, leaning closer to let him help you drink. The cold helps you feel at ease, senses slowly returning back with every gulp. To help yourself drink faster, you take the glass with your free hand, unknowingly holding Ekko's hand in turn. Water drips from your lips, and Ekko patiently waits for you to finish your drink.
With one last sip, you dip your head back and he helps you gently lay your head against the bed’s headboard. Clearing your throat, you see the bruises on his knuckles, purple hues marring his hands, and lesions along his clavicle and arms. The purple contusion on his neck has you frowning, and drowning in guilt. He places the cup on his work table right next to what looks like your pen sword all broken in half. Your heart squeezes in your chest at the sight of it.
Your brother entrusted you with it and you manage to get it destroyed like everything you touch.
“I was asking why I'm here in your room instead of the infirmary.” Your voice floats above the silence, tone raspy as you take a breath.
“The fuckers are in the infirmary.” He curses and practically spits their names out. “Don't worry, our doctor treated you, not me.”
“I don't doubt your medical abilities, Ekko.” You manage to joke, cheek squished above the hard headboard. The bed is nothing special, the mattress is lumpy but comfortable enough to sleep in, sheets in patchwork cloth that he probably sewed himself. But the pillow under you is soft, perhaps even made with real goose feathers. You softly smile at the thought. “Did you at least get yourself checked out?” There's a sudden tightness against your forehead, reaching above, you now feel the bandage wrapped around it. The pads of your fingers gliding over the rough surface.
“I'm fine,” he says, jaws clamped shut at the way you tug at your bandages. “Here, let me. You're gonna rip your stitches.”
“Whoever the doctor is, tell them that they wrapped me too tightly. I'm still too alive to be mummified, you know?”
Ekko manages to scoff at your joke, a sound akin to a laugh. Crossing the small distance, he gestures for you to scooch over and make space for him to sit next to you. You of course oblige, moving a little as the bed dips underneath his added weight.
“‘I’m fine,’ is the code word for ‘no, I haven't seen the doctor.’ I know it well, I invented that shit, Ekko.” You let him unclasp the bandage briefly and adjust it to a more comfortable wrapping by making sure two of his fingers fit inside it. He smells of dried blood and smoke. It reminds you of home. “Can you let me at least look you over?”
“Are you a doctor now on top of being a historian?” His arm flexes above you as he secures the bandage.
There's a deeper gash on the back of his arm that you notice. You stare at him through your lashes, breath hitching in your throat as you can see every scar and mole on his skin and face. He's too occupied to notice it.
“Technically I am, but not a medical doctor. I know basic first aid from my time fighting.”
“A talented noxian then.” Ekko removes his hands from you, eyes giving you a once over for an injury he might've missed. “I'm fine, spark.”
“The cut on your arm is deep, Ekko.” You poke near the inflamed skin, making him wince and flinch away. “It'll get infected if we don't clean it. At least let me help you with that. I may be down with one hand but I can suture with my eyes closed.”
“I can do it myself.”
“It's on the back of your goddamn arm, unless you want a crick in your neck—”
“If I let you do it will you shut up?”
You smile victoriously. “Maybe.” Shrugging, you watch as he stands up, tongue clicking in annoyance.
While he grabs the necessary supplies, you look around on this side of the room that you never bothered to take a peek at for his privacy. There's a few portraits tacked on the wall, drawings of people he cared for, some you already know— especially the familiar head of blue staring down at you on his bed. You try to close a fist with your broken hand, finding that you can't do that anymore, not while it's still in a cast. Sighing, you keep roaming your eyes around the small space, there's trinkets on his bedside table, a small lamp made from an old pipe. A cracked seashell, a few screws and bolts right next to a recognizable set of colourful sea glass.
The sound of a chair scraping on wooden floorboards gets your attention away from his knick-knacks. Ekko pushes an armchair closer to the bed, the same one you've been sitting on for months. You notice his iconic jacket laying on the seat. Looking outside the window, you find that it's already dawn, bitter blue slowly ebbing away the dark of night— which means he's been sleeping in the armchair all this time, looking out for you. Your eyes brim with hot tears, which you immediately wipe away before he notices. No one has looked out for you since your professor died. Before that, it was your brother.
He notices your stare. “What? I wanted to be comfortable.” Your lips curl into a knowing smile without saying the exact words. “Can you get up?”
“I think so.” You lift both arms up like a child asking to be carried. “I need help though.” You smile wider, eyes sparkling with mischief. Ekko stares at you, brown eyes heavy with lack of sleep glaring straight into your soul. “Don't push it, got it.” You say, sitting up with few resistance from your aching body. And unbeknownst to you he was readying to help you up. Dangling your legs over the bed, you take the box of medical supplies from him and wash your hands with alcohol without another teasing jab as you concentrate on cleaning his wound.
He scooches closer to you, arm folded and lifted above his shoulder so that you get a better view of the gash. As you lean closer with the antiseptic, he sees himself in your eyes. Now seeing the burden that once gathered in the swirling pools. There's tiny scars dotted along your neck and chest that he just now notices. Like the scars on your arms and hands, it bears the ordeal of what you have done back in your homeland before you decided to take a pen rather than continue on whatever path you thought was best for you back then. Whatever it was, whatever you've done, he knows you're still trying to atone for it, carrying it over your shoulders in a lead covered box of grief.
Ekko knows that it took a lot to get where you are now. To be the kinder person than you were before, to cover the jagged lines with cloth, to make the sharpness of your teeth blunt and no longer pierce through skin like razor blades. It hurts to know that Jinx could've done that with time on her hands, if only she had time, she could've been good just like you.
“Ekko?” You call, and his eyes immediately hone in on you. “I was asking, what's gonna happen to them?”
“Sevika.” You nod as you gently tap the cotton of antiseptic on his wound. “One of her people saw what happened, and she called the enforcers to take them once they can breathe through their noses again and not through their mouth.” He intended to only glance at you, but his eyes stayed focused on the concentration on your face. “All I'm saying is they'll live.”
“There goes my reputation with Sevika.” You sigh, relieved that you didn't kill someone on the undercity soil. Your eyes glances towards Ekko's face, only to find him already staring back at you.
“Trust me, Sevika and the council already knew you could fight.”
You scoff, accidentally inhaling a whiff of the strong concoction. “That's a stereotype, Ekko. You know better than that.” Pausing to grab the suture kit, you make a face at Ekko. “They're right though.”
Ekko chuckles breathily, earning a smile at you. “Sorry about the sword.”
“Don't worry, I'll get it fixed once I'm back in Noxus. I'm more of a claymore girl myself anyway.” As you thread the needle, your tongue pokes out in between your lips. He can't help but chortle at the sight of your expression and how hard you're focused on putting the thread into the eye of the needle with one broken hand. “Damn.”
“Here, give it.” Flexing his open palm, you surrender the sutures to him. “It's that deep?” He gestures with his head towards the gash on his arm.
“Yeah, just a bandage over it won't help much.” You sniff, rolling your neck as you stretch the stiffness away.
“You hurting?”
“No, just stretching.” Your nape throbs, but you don't tell him. A comfortable silence settles in the room as he easily threads the needle.
“There,” Ekko hands it back to you and resumes his previous position as you ready the cold needle against his skin. “Where'd you learn this?”
“Short answer, you fight too much and you end up with a lot of stitches.” You chuckle, “deep breath, Ekko.”
“Don't have to—! Shit.” Wincing, he hisses at the piercing pain.
“Told you to breathe in.” Shaking your head with a smile, you continue to suture his gash carefully. “My brother was the one who was doing most of the stitching. He had a steady hand, and eyes that are so clear I swear he could see an ant from miles away.” Smiling at the memory, you remember him nagging you with every stitch he does. But he still does it for you. “After the ninth visit, he finally taught me so I stopped bothering him in his lab. He still does the suturing whenever I bleed on his floor though. He told me I'm shit at it even though I'm pretty much an expert.”
“Is he the one you were dreaming about?” Ekko didn't mean for the words to fall out of his lips, his curiosity got the best of him.
You freeze in place, needle half inside his skin. “I was dreaming? What was I saying?”
“A name.” He answers with a solemn tone. “And mine.”
You swallow the lump in your throat. Hands going cold underneath his warm skin. He can feel it too, so with an apprehensive hand, he wraps your wrist with his fingers, anchoring you to him and in the moment. He knows the feeling, he's awfully familiar with it even though he refuses to acknowledge it whenever it rears its ugly head.
Smiling shakily, you take your eyes off him and continue to stitch him back together with gentleness. “I don't remember the dream. Must've been something though. We fought together and that must've made my brain make up things.” You ramble on. Your eyes dart towards his neck, tears pricking in your eyes from the sight. The pads of your fingers brush along the bruise, guilt felt through the subtle touch. “I'm sorry about this— about everything.”
He whispers your name, voice apologetic and brown eyes swimming with concern. You move away from his touch, quickly and effectively covering his injury with a bandage and some tape. “I'm—”
“My head suddenly hurts.” You try to play it off, finger jabbing at your temple, but the shaking of your hands betrays you. “The doctor said I need to rest, right?”
“Yeah, he said you need to stay here for a few days.” Ekko holds the fresh bandage, lips pursed together. “Look, I'm—”
“Sorry, I know.” Patting his knee, you give him a tight smile. “You just caught me off guard is all. It's okay, really. You're curious. Now I know how it feels to be questioned.”
He nods, but he can't help but feel the guilt gnaw at his chest. “Fine, go rest. If you need anything I'm just here.” Standing up, he takes his hoverboard that's perched on the wall. Dusk lights up his features, hair shining under the sun even with the grime of today's activities mar it.
“Yeah, I'll yell for you.” You joke as you slide back down on the bed and tuck yourself in.
Ekko places his board on his workbench to fix it. “Always a show with you.”
“Hey, it's effective, okay.” You can see him behind the armchair in the same position you always see him— hunched over his work table with his gloves on. “You should rest too, Ekko.”
His head turns to you as he slips on his goggles. “Where? You're on my bed.”
“It's big enough for two.” You tease, fighting a yawn. His pillow is so soft that it's cradling you to sleep.
“Shut up and go to sleep.” When you don't turn around after he clicks on his soldering machine, he sighs and twists back around towards you. “Turn around or I'll blind you.”
“I like watching.”
“Turn around.”
You make a mocking sound, blowing raspberries at him, “my nurse is rude. Absolutely no bedside manner.” You say as you reluctantly turn your back to him.
Ekko fixes his board for a few hours, finding that there's minimal damage at the least. He rubs his tired eyes before sneaking a peek at your sleeping form. Your chest rises up and down, lips slightly parted as your eyes dart underneath your eyelids. You're dreaming again.
When he moves his attention back to the table, he sees your broken sword and weighs the gilded handle in his hand. It wouldn't hurt to try a crack at noxian tech.
—
A familiar knock against the door to the tree house echoes out into the room— one short knock followed by three sharp knocks consecutively. The same signature knock you've been doing whenever you visit Ekko in his tree house.
“In a minute, Ekko!” You say as you pull down a clean shirt over your head. Trying to look presentable even with you being bedridden for three days, you smooth down your shirt and pants before sitting down on the edge of Ekko's bed.
“How'd she know it's you?” Vi's muffled voice sounds out from behind the door.
“Okay, entré!”
The door creaks open, the light outside flooding in as Vi pushes Ekko to get inside first. Making the said man grimace at his childhood friend.
“And they said you won't make it!” Her heavy footsteps follow her as she walks towards you with an arm stretched towards you. “How are you, spark?” She clasps your head, gently patting you and careful of your recent injuries.
“Better, the doctor said I only had a mild concussion and some bleeding.”
“Her hand's broken.” Ekko adds flatly, sitting down on the armchair with his arms crossed and leg over the other. “And it wasn't mild. Not even near mild.”
“C’mon, firefly, I was trying not to worry her.”
Vi watches the interaction with a curious brow.
“She's gonna find out anyway through Caitlyn. There's reports about what happened.”
You puff your cheeks at Ekko before ignoring him and turning your attention towards Violet. He rolls his eyes, yanking off his gloves to stretch his hands. “Where is Cait?”
“She sends her love. *Firefly here doesn't like it when she visits.” She teases, using your nickname for him as ammo. You'd pay big money just to see them during their younger years.
Ekko scoffs, head moving away from Vi but eyes staring daggers at her. “She's persona non grata, Vi.”
“C’mon, man, let bygones be bygones!” Vi claps his shoulder loudly, “that was years ago.”
“You're lucky I'm still letting you in here.” His nose scrunches, face paint folding as he glares at Vi. Thankfully, you already know what they're talking about. Kiramman's task force sending out the grey into the streets of Zaun three years ago still hasn't seen Ekko and Sevika’s forgiveness. “You have ten minutes left by the way.” He checks his stopwatch, its chain dangling from his belt.
Vi sighs, “whatever, firefly.” She turns towards you again, smiling when she meets with your eyes. “I've got your clothes from your place, I hope you don't mind me taking them.” You now notice the paper bag in her hand. You narrow your eyes at her suspiciously. “I didn't snoop!” You narrow it further, lips pursed together. “I swear, I didn't!”
Taking the bag from her with a disapproving shake of your head, you rummage through the pile of clothes, finding that it has everything you need. Hair brush, deodorant, a tooth brush and your perfume.
“You look good for someone who hasn't brushed their teeth in days.” Vi teases with a grin.
“I brushed my teeth, Vi.” You look at her, offended.
Ekko sits up from his seat. “Please don't tell me you used mine.” You smile, eyes shining with playfulness. “You—!”
“I didn't!” You laugh, hands raised in surrender. “Scar gave me a new one, jeez.”
He sighs, sitting back down but without leaving his pointed glare from you.
Vi smiles at the interaction. She sits down next to you, bed dipping down under her.
“Great, everyone's taking my bed now.” Ekko mumbles, jaw clenching in annoyance.
“You took the chair, man!” Vi exclaims, hand gesturing wildly at Ekko. They both settle down as you chuckle at them. “So, tell me what happened?”
You swallow thickly, the stitches in your head radiate phantom pain. “I—”
“She got robbed.” A half lie. Ekko answers for you after noticing your trepidation.
You can't exactly tell her that they ambushed you simply because they're holding a grudge on noxians. Vi will tell Caitlyn and Caitlyn will tell the council, and that might put your position in danger. And your work in danger of being disapproved.
“I did tell her not to flash her money.” He continues, eyes glancing at you briefly. You give him a subtle smile as a quick thank you.
“Well, good thing our boy saviour was there to help you beat them up, huh?” Vi gently nudges your shoulder and pushes Ekko's boot with the tip of her shoe.
“Yeah,” you look at Ekko softly. “Good thing.” With an inhale, you bring your attention towards Vi. “Thank you for bringing my things, Vi, but I won't need it since I'm coming back to the apartment.”
“No, you're not.” They simultaneously say in different cadence. Ekko's tone was more intensely concerned. While Vi said it with surprise.
“What? I'm fine now, trust me, this is nothing compared to—”
“We get it, you're noxian, you're tough and you've seen battles yadda yadda.” Vi mocks a talking mouth with her hand.
“Hey!” You knit your brows at her.
“The doctor said you're still not in a good shape to walk around.” Ekko explains in a much kinder tone this time. “You need a few more days of bedrest.”
“He's right. I'm no doctor, spark, but you're still swaying and you're just sitting in place.” Vi says apologetically, hand placed in between your shoulders to reassure you. Or to keep you from unknowingly swaying.
“I am?” They both nod. “I just don't want to intrude. I've been here for three days and Ekko hasn't slept in his own bed. I need to get back out there.”
“You said it yourself, there's no deadline.” Vi looks at Ekko for backup.
“I’m fine sleeping on the armchair for a few more days, red.” Ekko agrees with Vi. “‘Sides, you're not getting any writing down with your broken hand.” With the mention of your injury, the three of you look at your plastered hand with the many writings and drawings of firelight children that came to visit you.
“I'm ambidextrous.” You blatantly lie.
“I've seen you wield a sword, no you're not.” Ekko tilts his head back, looking at you like you're one of his firelights that needs a reprimand.
“I cannot not write!” You frustratingly say. “What am I supposed to do? Stay here until the doctor cuts this off?” You lift your broken hand for emphasis, waving the cast around. “That will take months!”
Vi hums next to you, eyes darting between you and Ekko. “I've got an idea.”
You pout, eyes trying to decipher her look. “Do you want Ekko to build me a writing robot that can write whatever I dictate?”
“No,” she backtracks. “Smart but no. Wait, can you do that? Like, record whatever she says?” She asks Ekko, awe in her tone.
“That'll take longer than for her hand to heal.” Ekko shrugs, but you can tell that the cogs in his head are turning trying to build your idea in his head.
“Well, in the meantime you can help her.” Vi holds the two of you by the shoulders. Connecting the two of you together.
“How?” You and Ekko speak at the same time.
“Thought you two were smart?” She chuckles, “you dictate.” Her head turns to you, “and you write.” Then she turns to Ekko.
“No.” He flatly says.
“Absolutely not.” You nervously say. “He's busy, and I've still got a lot of interviews to go through. Not to mention my own research at the mines— I'll be running around!” Rambling, Ekko nods with every word, except for when you mentioned the mines.
“That’s exactly why you need him.” Vi intercedes. “You can't write, and he has hands for it.” She takes Ekko's dominant hand and wiggles it about in front of him before he wretches it back with a glare. “And what if you suddenly collapse? Or a bunch of assholes try to rob you again? That cast is a fucking sign that says ‘I’m vulnerable, please rob me!’”
“But—!” You and Ekko share a look.
His watch clicks, a sign that your visitation hours are done.
“Looks like my time is up.” She stands up, clearly glad of the excuse as she smiles at her two flabbergasted friends. “You two can figure it out.” Before you and Ekko could protest again, she's already at the door. “Zaun’s brightest and Noxus' genius together working hand in hand!” Cackling, she leaves the room.
Silence permeates the room, and you slowly turn towards Ekko, who has his fingers pinching the space in between his eyebrows; Mumbling a curse upon Vi’s name.
“She does have a point, unless you already have that robot.” You intend to tease, but you're between a rock and a hard place right now. Maybe you can hire someone to follow you around?
“No.” He sighs, standing up, hands placed on his hips as he thinks.
“I can just ask Steb or—”
“I'll do it.” Ekko stares at you but his eyes avoids your own for a second before meeting your own. He figures that you've only got a few months left in the city before you finish your research so he agrees in hopes that the months will come by quickly. “But on my own terms and schedule.”
A grin blossoms on your cheeks. “You've got a deal, firefly.”
—
“So,” you start whilst munching on a piece of toast courtesy of the firelights mess hall. Ekko sits adjacent to you, eyes looking much better after a certain pink haired woman gave him his own mattress to sleep on after you've made a home for yourself in his room and former bed. You could've moved to a spare room somewhere in the hideout, but truth be told, you're still shaken up from what happened. Ekko's presence was a welcome peace to you. He never protested, and the two of you danced around the situation. “On the agenda today—”
“The doctor just cleared you. Too much spark, spark.” He looks at you over his mug.
“I know,” you shrug, eyes roaming around the open space with its string lights and people milling around during breakfast rush. “I don't want to waste time, genius.”
Ekko sighs, remembering the words genius and madness that suddenly popped up in his mind after years of not thinking about it. Chugging his coffee with a gulp before he stands up and gathering his things, he leaves you on the table.
“C’mon then.”
“Wait, hold on, you haven't eaten your bread yet!” Taking your satchel and jacket, you juggle between your toast between your teeth Ekko's uneaten slice for him to eat while walking. Feeling eyes on you, you see Jericho, the firelights chef give you a glare. “I'm giving it to him!” You reassure him that Ekko gets his daily dose of carbohydrates instead of eating it like he thought you would. As if you’ve stolen Ekko's food. Well, it happened once, and Jericho was the only one who gave you shit for it. You still have no idea how he even knew you did that.
As you run after Ekko, you fall back into pace with him, noticing that he slowed down for you and didn't take off on his hoverboard.
Shaking the piece of toast in front of him until he groans and takes it, you smile victoriously as he finishes it in three bites. The two of you exit the firelights commune, and the undercity greets you with the scent of coffee and steel lingering in the cool morning air.
“So schedule for today.” You wipe the crumbs off of your hands. Opening your bag, you grab your notebook and open it to where you bookmarked it last night. Your chicken scratch writing is evident on the page courtesy of your broken hand. “We have an interview with Mrs.Talis, but we have to make a quick pit stop to my place before we start talking to people.” Rubbing your temple where the ache persists, the action isn't missed by Ekko.
“Why?” He asks, keeping a close eye on the people that pass you by. “You forgot something?”
“Yeah, a pen.” You sigh, missing the weight of the gilded pen in your hand. “I've just been using yours, and sorry, but it's shit.”
Ekko casually brings his hand to his jacket pocket, rummaging through it whilst walking along the streets towards the bridge of progress. His hand feels around the cold cylinder, then without wasting time, he hands the golden pen to you.
You pause midstep, eyes widening at Ekko's hand. “You—” your breath is stuck in your throat. It looks much better than before, shinier as if nothing happened to it. It looks just like how you remember it when it was still your brother's. “—you fixed it?”
He makes a face, nose scrunching, giving you a casual smile as his eyes look behind you while you're distracted. He can't let his guard down, the people who hurt you might be behind bars now, but he still hasn't found the chem baron responsible for it. Apparently after some investigation from the enforcers and Ekko's own interrogation, he found that the said chem baron sees you as a threat. A noxian in Zaun brings less traffic for his business as some people still see you as someone to be feared— that you're in the undercity to put out any remaining flames from the past. He finds the guy, he ends the shimmer production once and for all and in turn would keep you safe. It's easier said than done, especially that you have him by your side every morning throughout the afternoon for three days a week. It's a miracle that he talked you down from making it to six days a week.
“I did.” He says, now staring at the awe on your face.
“How? I've seen people get blasted by ink just because they forced the fucking thing open!” Exclaiming excitedly, you catch a handful of attention towards you and Ekko.
With a casual hand on your forearm, he guides you back to walking further towards the bridge in the distance. “It's delicate,” he says, eyeing a particular man watching you. “You can't force it open.”
“Is that why you got a splotch of ink on you a few days ago?” You poke his side teasingly, feeling how tense he is under his jacket. Making a face you act like you're staring at something behind him. “What's that?”
“What's what?” Ekko quickly turns around trying to find what you were staring with concern at.
Reaching towards his chest, you place your warm palm atop where his heart is. He looks at you, glancing between your hand and your face with furrowed brows. “Quiet, it's beating.” His heart beats louder as you whisper to him closely. “It's beating faster.” You say, feigning shock and awe.
“Right, I get it, shut up.” He pushes your hand away gently, eyes rolling from your joke. Glancing at a shadow near an alleyway next to the two of you, he visibly stiffens.
“You okay, Ekko?”
Turning his attention towards you once the man walks away, Ekko nods and squeezes your arm before letting go. “Yeah, what's on our agenda today?”
Clearing your throat, your smile hasn't faded since you got the pen back in your hand. Clicking it open, you scratch out the first part on your schedule. “Well, we don't have to go to my place anymore so, Mrs. Talis first in upper Piltover, then if we still have time we need to swing by the academy.”
“We'll make time.” He says, eyes stopping by Vander's statue and the eternal blue flower that's always fresh near his bronze feet.
“We don't have to rush, you got hurt too you know.” Nudging his shoulder, you spot him stare at the flower for a brief second before he turns towards you. “Thank you by the way,” you say softly, “for fixing my pen sword.”
“Don't worry about it,” he places his hands back inside his pockets. “We're even now, spark.”
“Nope, I owe you.” You laugh when he glances at you with a raised brow and flat look. “How about…” glancing around, you see the last drop, it's probably almost done based on the fact that they're now putting up the lights. “I’ll buy you a drink once the tavern opens.”
“You won't even be here when it opens.”
“Says who? Stop trying to get rid of me, firefly.”
“You just noticed?”
“I'm hurt, Ekko.” You say as he abruptly stops near the bridge that's now bustling with life. Smiling, you nudge him gently on the shoulder. “Looks great, right?”
“There used to be barriers and spotlights here.” He utters, tone soft and small from the memory. He has flown above the bridge a handful of times before, but he never got too close to see it all.
“I think they scrapped those.” Grinning, you gently take him by his sleeve, urging him to walk through the bridge but not pushing him. You let him go at his own pace. “They have a shop here that gives out free shit if you're a new customer. They have a wheel you can try and it's full of free stuff you can win.”
Ekko closes his eyes for a moment, head turned towards the blue sky. The sunlight bathes him in its glow, illuminating his subtle smile. “Where?”
Grinning, you can't hide your excitement as you tug him along the shops. “Come on! I need to show you where I buy my ingredients and sweets!”
—
Ekko's boots thump quietly on the hallway leading towards a lone apartment at the end of the expansive hallway. The walls are in the signature Piltover colors, pristine white paint and golden accents decorate the space. When he was younger, he always wanted to stay at a place like this. Now that he's older and much wiser, the place feels stiff, something akin to feeling out of place. It doesn't feel like home to him.
“What am I supposed to do here?” He asks gruffly, pausing by the door as you ready your knuckle to knock. He senses your slight apprehension.
“Just write everything I ask and their answer. I'll clean it up once I can actually hold a pen.” Sighing, you stare at the number on the door. “And if you're feeling poetic, you can write what the atmosphere is like, or how they're feeling.”
“How would I know how they're feeling?” He leans against the side wall, arms crossed over his chest as he looks at you with a questioning brow.
“I thought you're perceptive, firefly.”
“Never said I am.” He raises his chin at you, “what are you waiting for?”
“Just…” you inhale, “If you ever decide to get in on the conversation, please remember to be tactful. These people lost someone, and us talking to them would take so much out of them. We're dredging through things they don't want to be reminded of.”
“You said that you don't ask questions if they don't let you.” You nod at his genuine question. “Then why do they let you?”
“Closure. Sometimes people just want to let it all out to someone rather than letting it fester. Even if that someone is a stranger.” Finally, you knock, the same rhythm you always do. You leave Ekko thinking in the corner as the door swings open.
“Can I help you?” A lithe older woman opens the door, peeking through the tiny crack as she looks at you and Ekko with uneasiness.
“Hello, Mrs.Talis, I'm the one you sent the letter to, the historian.” You smile politely, “and this is my assistant, Ekko.” He side eyes you, subtly rolling his shoulders. “I hope you don't mind that I brought someone with me. My dominant hand isn't in good shape.”
She opens the door a bit more, concern written on her face as she knits her brows at the fading bruises and the cast on your hand. “You're hurt?”
“Not anymore, thanks to him.” You gesture with your head towards Ekko, he glances between you and Mrs.Talis for a second. “I'm recovering well, don't worry. And I'm sorry for rescheduling our meeting three times.”
“It's alright, now I know you weren't joking about the reason.” She chuckles, stepping aside to let you in. “Come in, I was just putting the kettle on.”
“Thank you.” As you enter, you immediately notice the empty shelves and cabinets where there's still shapes made of dust, as if she took all the decorations out and left the place bare. You and Ekko share a look.
“Please sit down, I'll get the biscuits.”
“Oh, no need.” You show her the paper bag that has pastries you bought just for the occasion. It's missing a couple of pieces from when you and Ekko snacked on them on the way. “We got them from the bridge. I hope you don't mind.”
“Not at all.” She smiles, but you can sense that she's nervous. It's probably the first time she has guests over in a long time. “I'll get the plates.” She scampers towards the kitchen, disappearing from view.
You sit down on the plush couch, placing down the paper bag on the coffee table. Ekko sits adjacent to you on a brown armchair. Rummaging through your bag, you hand him your notebook and pen. “Here, before I forget.”
He stretches over the table to get your things. “I've got my own pen.” He doesn't miss the fact that you've entrusted him with the precious pen.
“Didn't know you're prepared for this.” Chuckling, you smile sweetly at him. “Use whatever you want.”
With a shrug, he opens the notebook, careful not to give the pages a read as he flips through to get to an empty page. He swears he saw a drawing of him in a couple of them. Glancing at you as you look around the apartment, he clicks your pen, ready to take down the interaction.
Eyes roaming around, you see the walls that are covered in old photographs. Some are from what you surmise as Jayce's childhood, the others were pictures of his achievements. From a newspaper clipping, to his graduation picture that sits front and center, his smile is plastered all over the walls. As you look to your left, you see an ajar door, where boxes upon boxes of arcane memorabilia is hidden from view. There are stones that are as blue as the sky, runes carved in various shaped stones. You now know what used to sit on the empty shelves. Eyes narrowed to see closer, you spot a single picture frame where a dusty photo of Jayce and someone you don't recognize stands next to him. You decide to be extra careful with your words during the interview.
Feeling eyes on you, you crane your neck over to Ekko as he gestures towards the kitchen, where Mrs. Talis is currently exiting with a tray of plates, teacups and a teapot.
“Sorry for the wait.” She smiles as she gently places the tray next to the paper bag of sweets.
“No worries, it wasn't that long.” You say as you help her place the pastries on each plate, making sure you give the bigger one to Ekko.
An uncomfortable silence permeates around the room while she pours tea over each cup.
“Sugar?”
“Please.” You smile politely as she hands you your cup.
Mrs. Talis turns her attention towards Ekko, and he shakes his head at her. “None for me, thanks.”
“My partner here doesn't like tea.” You try to lighten the mood. “Says that it makes his nose itch.” Ekko scrunches up his nose at you, face paint folding as he tries not to huff.
“Oh, alright then.” She chuckles, and you smile victoriously from getting a genuine reaction from her. And in turn easing the tension. Taking a sip from her cup, the slight shake from her hand can't be missed as she places it quietly back down on the tray. “Sorry, I haven't done this before.”
“It's alright, just treat this like we're old friends chatting away at a cafe.”
“That's a nice thought.” She places her hand over her heart.
“It is. I'm sorry about your son.” She purses her lips, the words leaping over her head as if she has heard the exact words one too many times for it to matter anymore. You hear Ekko writing away, and you smile fondly at how he's slowly falling into deep concentration like how he usually is when he's trying to fix tech. “How are you, Mrs.Talis?”
She chuckles nervously, fingers picking at the dry skin around her nails. “After everything?” You nod, “I— I don't know really. Just…floating around, I guess. Have we started yet?”
“We have, but if you want we can strike that from the interview.”
“No,” she shakes her head. “I—I…feel alright. Getting there.” Clearing her throat, you can see her shoulders stiffen. “I know you're here to talk about my boy, so I won't waste your time talking about myself when there's nothing to talk about.”
“That's not true, Mrs.Talis. I'm here to talk about you too.” You try to get her to ease up, but the way her lips wobble, you know she's still hurting. “We're conducting this research about citizens in Piltover and Zaun. To know the effects of war on regular people. Not just what happened that day.” Ekko, looks at you and then to the anxious woman.
Her sniffs shift through the quiet in the room. You let her take her time, inhaling through the emotions rolling in her. You know that she reached out to you for a reason, to finally get the pain out of her chest even if it hurts more to speak about it. Because saying it loudly makes it real, but not speaking about it would eat at her, chipping away the woman her son knew.
“My son was a good boy.” She says after a minute of silence. “I want the people to know that.”
“The people know that, Mrs. Talis. They're grateful for everything he has done for them.” You say, and the grieving woman takes your hand abruptly. Ekko watches the interaction with a close eye.
“I just— I can't help in thinking that it was my fault.” She squeezes your hand. “You said that we should talk like old friends, this is me speaking like we are.” You nod in understanding, letting her speak her piece. “I warned him years ago. I told him to let it go. But maybe I shouldn't have, I pushed him away further into it.”
“Further into what, Mrs. Talis?”
“Further into the arcane just because it saved me that day.” She continues as you search her tearful eyes. “If that didn't happen, he might be alive, I'd be dead but at least he'd be alive. He was so young, too young for… I don't even know what happened to him up there. They just told me that he was taken by an explosion caused by hextech.” Heaving, she wipes away her tears. “That damned hextech.”
Her sobs echo around the room, prompting you to grab a piece of tissue from your bag and hand it to her. She accepts it gratefully, then wiping away at the fallen tears.
“It wasn't your fault, what happened to him was set off by different circumstances that no one could've prevented or seen coming.” You try to ease her as more tears flow. Your heart weighs heavy at the sight of the grieving mother. Was yours like this when she heard of your brother's fate? You wouldn't know when you chose to run away from it all.
“I know what happened up there.” Ekko's voice has the woman looking up at him. “I was there.”
You trust Ekko enough to let him take the reins, but you can't help but worry that his next words wouldn't bring comfort to the sorrow in her heavy heart. With a nod and a wordless look at him, you let him continue.
“You saw him?” Mrs. Talis stares at him with shock, listening intently at the stranger before her.
“He fought until the very end. He brought me enough time to get the final hit in.” Ekko's eyes shine under the light, soft as he comforts her. “We wouldn't be here if he didn't. He didn't fail.”
“He did all that?” Her sobs turn into a hopeful smile. “Oh my boy.” She turns towards his picture on the mantle, palm placed above her heart. “Thank you.” She tells Ekko tearfully.
You gently smile at Ekko, and he gives you a curt nod. After a while, Mrs. Talis looks over to you with renewed energy. “Can we continue? This time I won't derail the interview.”
“You didn't do any derailing.” You whisper to her with a more playful smile that she gladly beams at. “Are you sure we can continue?”
“Yes, the people need to know about Jayce. I'm not letting my boy dissolve away.”
You pat her hand, nodding at Ekko to continue writing. “Alright then. Tell me if it gets too much and we'll stop.”
—
“Thank you for your time, Mrs. Talis—” You say before you're interrupted by a hug from the woman. “Oh.” Patting her awkwardly, Ekko tamps down his chuckles with a hand.
She lets you go, holding you at arm's length. “Thank you, I feel…alright now. Lighter.” Turning towards Ekko, she gives him another grateful grin. “And thank you again, Ekko. What happened up there would've been a mystery to me if you didn't say anything. So thank you.”
“‘Course.” He says, smiling softly at her.
The two of you leave the building in silence. It's midday now and people are milling about the restaurants to grab a seat during the lunch rush.
“Do you want to have lunch at my place?” You blurt out, nudging his side.
“You buying?”
“No, but I'm cooking.”
“As long as it's not sweet.”
“I'm not hearing a no though.” You say with a lilt. He rolls his eyes, but the subtle smile he has on his lips betrays him.
—
The air smells savoury as Ekko opens a window to let out the smoke from the kitchen. You stir at a pot of stew, it was quickly thrown together with whatever ingredients you have in your fridge, but neither you nor Ekko are complaining about it. Your sleeves are rolled up, battle scars unabashedly on display. And Ekko is more casual now that he doesn't have to look over his shoulder and behind you with vigilance. He shrugged off his jacket a while ago, now in his regular tank top and bandana. Twists up in a bun after he helped you chop some vegetables.
“How do you do it?” He asks as he leans against the counter right next to you.
“I just threw whatever I thought would taste good together.”
“Not what I meant, spark.”
“I knew exactly what you meant, firefly.” You pause from stirring, lifting up the wooden spoon to scoop out a bit of the stew. After blowing on the steam, you hand it to Ekko. “Try it. I might've added too much salt.”
“You haven't answered my question.”
“Taste the stew and I'll answer it.” You push it towards him until he takes the spoon, hand brushing along your own briefly.
He gives you a narrowed look before sipping at the soup. “More pepper.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.” Ekko places the spoon on the counter as you shake the pepper shaker a few times before stirring the pot with a new spoon. “The question.”
“I’ve gotten used to it, this is my job you know.” You stretch your hand before mixing again. “And I'm not as heartless as you think I am.”
“I don't think that you're heartless. And that's not what I meant.” Ekko takes the spoon from your hand, and you let him. Side by side, he stirs the pot for you. “I meant how you could listen to all of that without wanting to fight against the very thing that hurt them.”
You lean on the counter, hip pressed against the cold marble. “I want to and wanted to. But violence answered by violence leads to more bloodshed. But that doesn't mean I haven't tried. Or have done it before.”
“You took revenge for someone else?” He levels with you, hearing the stew bubble up before shutting the stove off and blending it again.
“Too many times, Ekko. But I quickly learned that how many times I do it for someone, nothing will bring the dead back.” You leave the counter to take the plates from the cupboard. “And I got an earful from my professor, which helped.”
He chuckles as you briefly leave the kitchen to place the plates on the dinner table. Your apartment is small and cozy but you're grateful enough to even have your own place while you're here. Ekko feels right at home with your strewn about papers all over the bed in the corner, and various photographs that you temporarily taped beside your bed. He saw what looked like you and your brother in a small laboratory, and a polaroid of you with an old woman. You're all smiles in all of them, but your eyes hide pain underneath the printed ink.
You return to his side, leaning over him to grab the drinking glasses from the upper shelves. His back presses against your front, and he side steps to give you space, swallowing thickly from the brief contact.
“Your turn.” You hold the glasses, eyes staring at him suspiciously. He raises a brow. “Are any of the things you told Mrs. Talis truthful?”
Ekko stares at you head on. “Does it matter? It helped her.”
You scoff, shaking your head. “Yes, because this is history, Ekko. If you decide to change it on a whim, how truthful would the rest be?”
“I assumed that he did—”
“So you lied?”
“You did.”
The argument has the air inside the apartment tense and smothering. The heat from the stove has you over the edge, but with Ekko beside you, he holds you away from the cliffs unknowingly.
“I did,” you move closer to him, standing toe to toe with him. “So I could do my job. Now tell me, Ekko, what really happened to Jayce Talis?”
He inhales, getting a whiff of his own soap on your skin, and the sweet smelling perfume you always wore. “He was already injured when I got there. So I assumed that he fought hard until he couldn't. Viktor was too powerful,” he knits his brows together, memories of that day flicking through his mind. “I can't explain it, but I saw them talking to each other in the void for a second when his puppets got to me. I think Jayce talked him down.”
A smile slowly spreads across your cheeks, clinking the glasses together like you're celebrating.
Realization hits him. “You knew I wasn't lying.”
“Yep, I can read you like an open book, my guy.” Walking away, Ekko follows behind you, hand reaching for your elbow. He twirls you around, gentle enough not to hurt but the shock of it is evident on your face. The small of your back hits the dinner table, he notices, sliding his hands in between you and the wood to prevent it from happening again. He then leans close to your face until your breath fans across his cheeks. He looks like he's about to swallow you whole. “Finally got something out of you, boy savior.”
“What is up with you?”
“Still can't get a read on me?” You tilt your head, palms placed atop his chest, his warmth radiating off him. You look like you're about to let him swallow you whole. “Let me spell it out for you. You're stubborn, and if I'm never going to get an answer out of you, then might as well get a partial one.”
He glares at you, the light shining right on his eyes. If anyone walked in on the two of you right now, they'd think something else was happening as you're placed so close to him that his face is mere inches away from you. If you just lean a bit closer you can smudge his face paint with the tip of your nose.
“Has anyone told you that you have pretty eyes?” You say with a longing sigh. It's not a lie, not even a half assed one. “It's so easy to get lost in them.” The simple words have him letting you go with a huff.
Ekko pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly irked by you and your mind games.
“If I didn't ask, I wouldn't know about Viktor if you didn't mention him. Until now he has been nameless. Vi called him the cult guy. It's like they erased him.”
He lifts his head up, “no one told you about him?”
“Nope. Now I really have a genuine reason to ask the council permission to go ask questions around the academy.” Your sly smile has Ekko conflicted.
Ekko groans, stomping away towards the coat rack to grab his jacket. “We were supposed to go there today and you're telling me that you don't have a permit to go and sniff around?”
You shrug, “yeah. Now you're into permits?” He puts on his jacket with a click of his tongue. “Before you storm out, can we eat? I made too much and I don't like wasting food.”
Ekko takes a beat, head downturned, shoulders sagging and admitting defeat. Then he yanks off his jacket and places it back on the rack before shuffling towards you and sitting down on the dinner table.
“Good choice.” You snap your fingers at him. “Get ready for your taste buds to be opened!” He groans in reply.
—
Ekko waits for you outside the academy, hoverboard strapped on his back, and a face that has students walking away from him before they could ask what his business he has in the place.
The morning sun is pleasant across his cheeks, warming him up from the cool breeze when he was flying towards Piltover. He takes out his watch for the umpteenth time, checking how late you are. With every minute that passes, Ekko's annoyance gets bigger. And with every second that passes where he doesn't see you in the designated meetup place, he worries that it's just like time. What if you got beat up again? The sight of your limp body in his arms still haunts him to this day. He'll never admit to anyone that he was in awe of you that day, or that you remind him of a certain someone. He'd rather talk to you about what happened to him during the war than speak about his thoughts while he was desperately getting you back to the hideout.
Your familiar footsteps have him looking up from his pocket watch. “You're late.”
“Holy shit, you're here.” You heave in place, stopping right in front of him.
“Why wouldn't I be?” He quickly checks you for injuries, thankfully finding none.
His eyes on you doesn't fly over your head. “I thought you'd be too mad at me to actually come.”
Narrowing his eyes, Ekko walks away with his hands in his pockets. “You're right.”
“Wait!” You reach for his wrist with your good hand. “Come on, you're already here anyway.” Smiling sweetly, you give him a squeeze. “Please, Ekko. I promise I'll be on my best behaviour this time. No mind games, no bullshitting you.” You haven't noticed that your hand has slid down his wrist, and that you're now holding his hand in the middle of the academy plaza. “Just honest to god work.”
Ekko looks at the intertwined hands, mind reeling back to the day before the war when he held her hand. You duck to meet with his eyes, following his line of sight, you take his silence as him being uncomfortable with your touch. So you slide your hands away, chuckling nervously as you wring your hands together
“Sorry, I sometimes forget that I'm touchy with friends. Haven't hung out with one in a few years.”
“We're friends?” He raises a brow, genuinely asking the question, he doesn't mean to hurt you with the words. But after everything, he doubts that you see him as one.
“I'm going to act like that didn't hurt me.” Turning around, you hide the pained look on your face with the excuse of getting inside the academy. “Anyway, we've got a full schedule for today. So let's get on with it before you burst a vein.”
Ekko opens his mouth to say…something. He doesn't even know if it'll be an apology or another sarcastic comment that usually matches your own. Before he could, the large double doors open automatically. The gears churn from the weight, and he marvels at the engineering. It's simple but given its age, it was advanced back then.
Stepping inside, the large expansive halls of the academy greets the two of you. Walls upon walls of portraits and sculptures line the hallway. Anyone who was important in Piltover and the academy was there, leaving their permanent marks on its ancient walls.
Marble columns hold up the place, decorated with laurel leaves and carved owls that look down from their perch. There, in the middle of the room sits a statue of no other than professor Heimerdinger. His marble form is perfectly carved in stone, Ekko can practically hear his voice from the sight alone.
“The man of the hour.” You say, looking up at the statue. “Does it look like him, Ekko?”
He takes his attention from the statue to you, “it's accurate enough, needs a bigger mustache though.”
Your rolling laughter echoes in the halls, a few students pause to check the commotion before returning to what they were doing. Ekko smiles softly then takes another look at Heimerdinger.
“He looks intelligent.” You whisper to him after you disturbed the peace. “Was he fun? I heard from the council members that he was actually quite funny. Eccentric was the word they actually used.”
Ekko gives the statue a fond smile. “He was.”
“Come on,” you nudge him gently. “We need to talk to a lot of people.”
“I thought we were here for Viktor?”
“Yeah, and Heimerdinger too. Apparently no one knows what his fate is. And as someone as important as him, that's fucking weird.” You walk away, and he falls right into step with you.
“And you think you'll get your answers here?” He asks, eyes glancing at you.
“Nope.” You pop the letter ‘p’, a bit too cheerful for the subject of the missing professor. Eyes flicking towards him, you smile. “It won't hurt to try though. What if he's just hiding within these halls, you know? I like a good mystery to solve.”
“He's not here.” He shakes his head at your playfulness. He's thinking that you already have a theory on who might know what happened to him. And the answer is staring right at you.
“And you'd know that because?”
“Just a hunch.”
“Sure, a hunch.” Your smile tells him the answer to his own question.
—
After five whole hours of speaking to a few of Heimerdinger's former students, fellow professors and even the lunch lady, you surmise that he's not anywhere near the academy. Or even in the same country. There's a few theories floating around in your mind, either he ran away to another country after what happened to hextech. Or the answer lies to the last person who saw him, who coincidentally is right next to you, shuffling through documents in the academy archive.
The place is as expansive as its history. Rows of bookshelves line each wall. Like a library but filled with boring information like student records and academy files rather than riveting stories. The harsh lights have you shielding your eyes, and the air is kept stale inside to preserve tha documents. So no windows to open to let in fresh air, not to mention that you can't bring in food or drinks, so munching on sweets while researching is out of the question. You're bored out of your mind after three hours of looking through documents. it's like you're back in your academy studying things you already have knowledge about. The place even smells like it, old books and withered paper floating around the windless space.
You roll up next to Ekko on an office chair, arms crossed over the back casually and chin pressed atop it. “Psst!” You let out a sound like a bird call. Ekko rolls his eyes, craning his head to look at you. “Do you have the answer to number twelve?”
Ekko furrows his brows with a confused smile. “What? Is that how you got your numerous degrees?” He jokes back, earning a grin from you.
“No, and I was just fucking around.” You chuckle, poking his bicep, unintentionally feeling the hard muscle underneath. You clear your throat with a timed cough. “Any luck on your end?”
“None, just the usual academy shit. Complaints, student records, nothing on Viktor.”
You furrow your brows, “not even a mention?”
Ekko shakes his head, frustration rolling off him like waves on the shore. “You're right, it's like they erased him.”
“That's fucked up.” Pushing your feet forward, you roll around him, stopping when your hip hits the other side of the table. “Is there a chance you know anything about him?”
“No, all I know is that he helped develop hextech and that he was from the undercity.” He sighs, pinching the corner of his tired eyes. “I remember that he preferred to be in the background, but his name was everywhere back then. Not as much as Jayce, still, he definitely existed.”
“Maybe I can find something in Zaun then. You're just as intrigued as me, huh?” Poking his cheek, he leans back, waving your finger away from him. “Are you sleeping well, Ekko?” Your tone is laced with worry.
His eyes narrow suspiciously at you. “Why are you late?”
“Asking my question with a question, classic deflection tactic.” You chuckle, feet swinging around as you stare at him teasingly. He stares at you, not backing down. “Fine, nosey. I had to convince the council to let me conduct an investigation here. It took some convincing. And me talking down at them and saying that if they've got nothing to hide, then they shouldn't worry.”
“And that worked?” His brown eyes widened for a second.
“God no. I only said that in my head.” You poke your temple, joking and earning a chuckle out of him. “I did manage to convince them though.”
“With bribes?”
“Of course.” You tilt your head, the tip of your shoe nudging his seat. “You know me so well.” Smiling, you pull yourself closer to him with your foot kicking you in place until you slam gently against his chair. “My turn, have you been sleeping well since I left?”
“What makes you think that you've got anything to do with it?” He pushes you away from him with his foot.
“Please, you were sleeping like a baby when I was there.” Not backing down, you pull yourself back into place, annoying him further. “Was it my calming presence—?!” The next thing you know, you're rolling away from him after he kicked your chair.
“It's the opposite, spark.” He says, now ways away from you as your chair hits a book cart.
“Your snoring says otherwise!” You yell, palms cupping up next to your mouth. You ignore the ache around your broken wrist.
You can hear his scoff from where you are. “I don't snore.”
“Yes, you do.” Chuckling, you see him rolling towards your way. “Shit.” He's getting closer, speeding up towards you. “Catch me if you can!” Waddling away, using your legs as paddles as you push and roll away from him, your laughter echoes throughout the space.
“Come back here!” He can't prevent the smile appearing on his lips. “I don't snore.”
“Yes, you do!” Giggling, you mimic the sound of snoring.
The sound of a ruler slamming down on the table has you and Ekko freezing up in place.
—
“Man, I can't believe that old lady can be so mean.” You frown, stretching your broken wrist as the two of you exit the double doors of the academy after getting kicked out. Your wrist has been throbbing ever since the archivist made the two of you clean up all the piles of books and documents you picked up from the shelves.
“You haven't met a lot of old ladies then.” Ekko glances at your wrist. “You hurting? How's your head?”
“I'm good, don't worry.” You chuckle, eyes staring fondly at the concern on his face. “Just aching a bit from all the lifting.”
“I told you to leave it to me.”
“What do you know, I'm stubborn, just like—”
“Me, I know.” He interrupts, and yet you grin at him.
The sun is setting, birds chirping and the people are on their way home just like you. It's way past Ekko's designated schedule with you, but he doesn't seem to mind when he hasn't mentioned it.
“I've got a question, Ekko.” He side glances at you, lips pursed together. “Off the record, I promise, just genuinely curious.”
“You're always curious.” He stops walking, letting you continue.
“I'll take that as a compliment.” Smiling, you stare at him through your lashes. “Why didn't you go to the academy?” He saw that question a mile away. “You're smart, I'm sure you would've gotten in. Hell, I'm betting good money that you're smarter than the students we interviewed today. Seriously, who describes being sad as sad? You're a PHD candidate, use sorrow or melancholy for fucks sake.”
Ekko's laughter has you grinning from ear to ear. The sunset shines on him, brown eyes sparkling, hair drenched in orange as the charms wrapped his twists glimmer just like his smile. Your heart skips a beat, hopefully unnoticeable by the man himself.
His laughter subsides, leaving the crinkle in the corner of his eyes in its wake. “I didn't have time, I had people to take care of. Studying in the academy wasn't worth it when you don't know how you'll be able to survive to see next week.”
Your heart squeezes in place. “That's— I'm sorry.”
He gives you a soft smile. “Don't worry, I know I'm smarter than them. I don't need a piece of paper to tell me that I am.”
“Very humble of you, firefly.” You playfully punch his forearm, “very true though. You're smarter than anyone that I currently know.”
“That was almost nice of you.”
Your shared laughter mixes together in harmony, filling the near empty academy plaza with warmth.
Suddenly, your name is called from behind, stopping the two of you mid laughter. Turning around, you see the source of the voice.
Your face brightens up even more from the sight of the familiar enforcer. “Steb! What are you doing here?” Waving him over, he speed walks towards you as he carries a bundle of fur in his arms. “You cold or something?”
His eyes smile at you, blue skin sparkling under the setting sun. “No, just arresting a little menace causing mayhem in the streets.”
Just as he says it, a pair of eyes pop open from the bundle, then a snout, and then the cutest yelp you've ever heard.
“Is that Heimer’s dog?” Ekko asks, whilst you coo at the ball of fur.
“He's so cute!” Your hands reach towards Steb, palms splayed atop his hands. Ekko sees the enforcer softly smile at the contact. “Oh,” you lift your head, staring at Steb. “Steb, meet Ekko. Ekko, meet Steb.”
Ekko lifts his chin up in greeting, shoulders straight, and hands nonchalantly in his pockets. Steb nods curtly, glancing between you and Ekko briefly.
“Nice to meet you.” The enforcer politely smiles then turns towards the cooing you with a much gentler smile. His voice is smooth, like a whisper in your ears. You always found it calming, just like Ekko's. “Found him running around with trash in his mouth, so don't let him lick you.” You giggle, petting the tiny ball of fur. “He's not usually this friendly to strangers. Do you want to hold him?”
You gasp, grinning. “Can I?” Steb nods, handing the dog to you carefully. “He's so soft!” Jumping in place, the small dog looks up at you with a tilt of his head. You introduce yourself to him like usual, making the two men next to you smile. “You're so cute! You remind me of the dogs back in Noxus, the only difference is that you won't maul me.” Giggling, you cradle him in your arms. “What's his name?”
“Porofessor. Poro for short.” Steb answers with a subtle smile as you squeal in place. “He's blind in one eye, probably just as old as his owner.”
“Who's his owner?”
“Heimerdinger.” Steb and Ekko answer at the same time. Ekko glances briefly at the enforcer, while Steb clears his throat, hands crossed over his back.
“I heard you were attacked.” Steb asks, concern laced in his tone. “I processed the criminals myself.” Your smile falters for a second, aching wrist throbbing against your cast. “But I want to know how you are.” His hand grazes along the white plaster. Ekko clenches his jaw briefly, eyes looking between you and the uniformed man in front of him.
“I'm doing okay now, Steb. You really don't have to worry. You know me, I can handle a punch, or two.” You reach for his elbow, giving him a squeeze before releasing. He smiles, Ekko can practically feel the fondness rolling out of Steb in waves. “Anyway, who's been taking care of poor Poro?” The dog barks when he heard his name.
“No one,” you and Ekko give the dog a worried look. “Well, everyone pitches in to take care of him, but he keeps running away and back to the academy. He doesn't stick too long in one place.”
Your hand brush along his soft fur. “He's probably waiting for him.” Your tone is mournful, arm giving the dog a squeeze. “What if I take him with me for now? I'm sure he'd like the company. And just like you said, he's gonna run back to the academy anyway.”
“Are you sure?” Steb asks, taking a closer step towards you. To Ekko's surprise, you don't move away. “If it's not too much trouble for you, I can inform the academy grounds keeper that Poro’s with you. He's usually the one feeding him.” With a hand upon your back, Steb casually gives you a half hug. Ekko feels like he should turn away, or fly away. “I'm really glad you're alright, red.”
Ekko realizes that he's not the only person who calls you that.
“Thank you, blue.” The two of you smile at each other. Ekko should really turn away now. His eyes look around, refraining from staring at the two of you for too long. Suddenly he finds the roof of the academy intriguing. “And yeah, I'm sure. And I promise to bring him back before I leave.”
Steb leans away, hands retreating back to his side, smile never leaving his lips. “You better, he's the academy mascot at this point.”
You lift up Poro in front of your face, his pink tongue rolls out of his mouth. “I'll be back. Don't worry, Steb.” You say in a high pitched tone, miming like the dog is the one who's talking.
The uniformed enforcer chuckles, “right, see you around, red.” He gives your shoulder a squeeze. “Ekko.” Nodding at Ekko, he returns to his straight edge enforcer self as Ekko replies with his own brief nod. With one last smile from him to you, he walks towards the academy.
You turn towards Ekko this time, Poro still lifted up in front of your face. “Wanna have dinner at my place?” you continue to mime using Poro, who looks like he's having the time of his life as he wags his tail happily. “I'm starving!”
Ekko shakes his head, laughing at your antics. He can't believe you're the same person he saw beat up a whole gang even when you're already injured. You must've been something during your time at the guild and the legion.
“Stew?” He asks, petting the dog as he smiles at you.
“Sure, if you want it again. I've stocked up on ingredients this time around.” Putting back Poro in your arm, you beam up at Ekko. “We have to invite another guy though.”
Ekko frowns for a half second before realizing that you're talking about Heimerdinger's dog. “I'm sure he likes the invitation.” You grin bigger at his reply.
The two of you start walking outside the academy gates. Ekko casually takes the satchel from your shoulder, and you let him carry it as you glance at him with a knowing smile.
“So you and Steb?” He asks, a bit muffled above the breeze and Poro’s breathing.
You tamp down your grin by biting down at your lower lip. “Simple answer, no.”
Ekko nods, hand reaching behind you with an open palm placed on the small of your back with the guise of guiding you around the busy city.
A/N: I had to cut this in half because it's gotten too long lol thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you liked it ❤️
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never change, man !
#phantom of the paradise#potp#swan potp#nightmaretheater#65 layers and about 24 hours . Eeeyyuppp#Look into my beautiful mind boy#Its a bit unusual to what i usually draw#but i had to push a specific look for this piece#hopefully you all are picking up on the corperate look . the advertisment look#Sneeze. Anyways my point is industry destroys creative people. This includes swan#I feel like phrases like these ; how he was put on a pedistal…. it lead him to be Like That#as awful as he is he desperately needed help#it might seem like vanity on the surface#but i think its… more than that#long story short: we need to destroy the beauty industry. the skincare industry. the anti-aging industry#It ruined his psyche forever and he cant let go of the ideal version of himself he will never truly be again#i dont think he can at this point. hes in too deep and hes suffering for it no matter how much he feels hes fixed his problems#he cant accept a version of himself that isnt that perfect young man. because he never confronted his problems. he just ran away#anyways . Hi swath *punches him**kicks him*#i dont care if nobody gets me lalalalla my truths and headcanons are awesome forever and i live in my own reality lallaallal#sorry i think im gonna be posting about swan alot for a few months hes making me sick#i wass gonna post this earlier but my internet was real bad#*lays down in my pile of pillows* eat up boys. haha#sidenote: drawing white blond people is horrifiying. Boy your skin and hair are the same color. Introduce some contrast to yourself. Please#adding on: its inportant to note this focuses on him looking st himself in the mirror alot on purpouse#to remind himself what he ‘’’’really’’’’ looks like#the 4 middle pannels all represent that too . u have to be in my brain ri get this#sorry for unleashijg another swan essay in my tags. will happen again lol
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no one told me that the simone-karl plot from why women kill would rip my heart out and stomp it into little itty bitty pieces
#why women kill#im so late to this#but they mean so much to me#people talk about the beth ann plot being the best but like...#"please youre my best friend”... “its not enough”#turning into#“i want only you here”... “you're the love of my life”#but still in a plaTONIC WAY#where simone accepts the reality of their love and puts aside her pride and chooses to show up for karl#because hes her favorite person in the whole wide world even if they dont love each other romantically#and she cant imagine life without him#and then ends up...#and her devoting her life to...#bahhhhh im dead#literally deceased#~~like karl~~
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Can absolutely confirm that I see a lot of bad stuff at my barn. People call it the "old" style not knowing we've known how to ride horses in a healthy way for centuries. There are letters from a Napoleonean general claiming that "nowadays", horses are started way too early and everyone is only concerned with looks and strong collection (like ldr), damaging the horses' health permanently.
Our barn had the same problem. We have lesson horses and our instructor stopped giving a shit about their health a decade ago with the result that when he retired, we had a host of stressed, lame and broken lesson horses.... and no one to take over. The girls who did were young and inexperienced, so even though they tried to do better, they eventually returned to our old instructors way of riding: short reins and lots of force from behind. Our old instructor used to ride in the highest dressage league.
We got a new instructor who tried to actually change things. The horses got more feed and rest, vets were finally called and the lessons were structured around their wellfare. She was viciously mocked even by people who had previously condemned our old instructor. Her assisstants, the aforementioned girls, stabbed her in the back so many times that she left not even half a year later. And our lesson horses are back to where they were almost a year ago. Riding a horse with force and not much else gets you results faster than trying to understand what you are doing wrong. Teaching students to use force because you dont understand whats wrong is also simpler.
This is a belief system, especially strong in our area. The barn at home, where I and Petit will hopefully be in a couple of weeks, would not tolerate any of that and the instructor there is highly qualified. Which is lucky, because Petit used to be a lesson horse at my current barn and she is broken body and soul. Kissing spines, damaged tendons, stomach ulcers. She used to be a racing horse before coming here so her problems likely originated there but she's stressed all the time because they used to ride her "the old way": short reins, tearing at the bit so she lowers her head and strong use of the whip so she goes forward. It will take years for her to realise she's safe from that now.
I think when the rider's ambition in dressage takes a higher priority than their health, or they're on the same level, is when they start accepting that they cant always do it the right way. And that's a slippery slope. I agree with the people who say it depends on the coach and you simply have to find the right one... but how do you do that when you don't know what the right way is? When you've been taught to turn off your empathy because its gonna benefit you or the horse in the long run? Take off those rose-coloured glasses guys. There is incredible abuse happening in the system and its not just by outliers. At least here, there is rot to the core
horsethoughtbarn 1 dressage
what are everyones thoughts on dressage ive been very interested in it as late as i enjoy the classical approach to biomechanics and harmony and balance and have been very discouraged by the state of modern dressage vs classical what are your thoughts on the sport and its status and its ethics and also what are your favorite cool ethical dressage moves and routines and riders or your thoughts on the sport as a whole or anything really i just want to learn more about it and talk about it
#dressage#horses#horse riding#horseblr#equestrian#thought about turning her into a western horse#she gets stressed when i take up the reins so long reins and no bit might be it#but she's is in no place to learn something new right now
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I would like to ask reader x stellaron hunters (i dunno if you accept multiple characters, if not im fine with only kafka) with a reader that fights like denji from csm.
Like, if you havent seen or read csm i would describe denji fighting style as bashing his head against a wall until it breaks, theres the eternity devil fight that you can probably find on youtube (altought its kinda gory, just telling beforehand.)
Its fine if you dont take the request but if you do thanks in advance :D
🌑 I have in fact not watched CSM but I'm vaguely familiar, so I've kept this pretty vague in the descriptions :)
✦ 𝐊𝐚𝐟𝐤𝐚 ✦
Worried sick + weirdly impressed
She finds the way you fight to be quite interesting, very curious as to why you choose it in particular
Will be asking a thousand questions, particularly about whether or not you feel pain and if yes, why you don't seem to mind it
If it does bother you, she will not hesitate to offer help through her 'Spirit Whisper' (what she uses on Blade to help with the mara)
But if you wish to endure it without help, then she'll respect it but care for you as best she can after fights
Truly, she'd rather end fights quickly so you dont have need to hurt yourself but she cant deny the excitement she feels at fighting by your side
Though her people are incpable of feeling fear, for you, she might just about taste it on the tip of her tongue
✦ 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞 ✦
This hypocrite
Hurts himself constantly and yet worries about you so so much
Scolds you for being reckless constantly even tho he is the same, which you tell him - a fruitless conversation everytime
Always watching your back like a hawk on the battlefield, taking hits for you when he can - he'd rather hurt himself even if you can take it
Loves sparring with you tho!
It soothes him to know that you can keep up with him in battle
That being said he's the type to constantly remind you to take care of yourself, rest, eat well, etc
It's also comforting to know that should the mara take him over you'll have a chance to fight back against him, at least
✦ 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟 ✦
So hype✨
You're like an SSR character, extra extra special and she's glad to have you on their side
Doesnt give much thought towards if it hurts you or not - all she knows or cares about is that it's cool as shit
Lowkey constantly asking to fight you because she sees it as a challenge to complete
Keeps equating you to a boss in one of her videogames
Hypeman no.1
Always hyping you up and asking about combos MID BATTLE😭
Menace but at least she's always down for the chaos
✦ 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐥𝐲 ✦
Hypocrite no.3
So so worried 🥺
She's just generally very caring, especially towards those at her side, so obviously will keep an eye on you at all times
But as a soldier, she's not going to try to hold you back, even if she really wants to
She's got her own pride and so would never think to tarnish yours
BUT oh my god if you could stop risking your life every five seconds😭
She gets it, she does really, but she's naturally very empathetic and because of her trauma... Let's just say she's of two minds on the whole situation
Gets over it if you come out mostly alright - generally tries to focus more on the here and now
Please reassure her of what she already knows, that you're strong, capable and that she can trust you to come back to her at the end of the day
#hsr#hsr x reader#hsr x you#hsr x y/n#hsr x gender neutral reader#stellaron hunters#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#honkai sr#honkai star rail x you#honkai star rail x gender neutral reader#hsr kafka#kafka#kafka x reader#kafka x you#hsr blade#blade x y/n#blade x reader#blade x you#hsr platonic#silver wolf#silver wolf x reader#firefly#firefly hsr#firefly honkai star rail#firefly x reader
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I hate the stretch lines in the front of Curly's uniform because that means the devs rushed to make a model in like a month or so and thought "They gotta at least know he has huge knockers, gotta know he's got back pain." Cause like what is the thematic importance of his tits having overhang?
What responsibility is that representing? Breast reduction? It shows an inherent greed in his character due to the excess and heshouldletmeholdone and that he clearly is blinded cause if he tries to look down his damn ladder all he's seeing is his own cleavage.
#this is my curly slander post ig#disclaimer i need you to understand i see all fictional men i like as like butches Curly is no exception#but like they didnt need to add that many polygons to his chest like its unnessary and honestly a little mean he already has so many things#to handle and you expect him to hold those boys up like that just aint right this is like something so stupid but i know you can tell im#having strong feelings about it cause like what was the point why did they survive the fucking crash it has to be a injoke at this point#with the devs it shouldnt make me this mad im turning into a misandrist but only towards large chested men#mouthwashing#curly mouthwashing#shitpost#suggestive#ig because this is just about his chest but like also they made him objectively pretty for no reason like yeah like ideal man and work ig#but they went over the extra mile like i have a right to be mad they did that much for a model we see canonically for like two seconds its#crazy actually how little we see of curly pre crash because we also lose his physical movements to help characterize him the way we see#body language with the other characters and how it gives way to their struggles and personalities and sentiments in certain moments#like all he does and how he emotes is stifled by the fact we always play as him until the last moments where he takes over to try and save#the ship and crew and even right before that the scene is so wrought with tension we cant tell what that look he gave Jimmy meant due to#the limitations of the models and how stiff Curly is like was it fear acceptance denial we dont know enought about how he acts himself#to tell and then everything else is charaterized by what Jimmy had done to where we dont really just get to see Curly as himself like Anya#and Swansea and Daisuke we have no idea how theyd act in a regular moment outside of a few glimpses and even then it is them doing#their jobs like grrrr we hate an unreliable narrator but also its the fact jimmy clearly does not interact with them or try to outside of#his position as copilot and then captain harkening back to the entire capitlist view of utility and how he views all of them as useless eve#Curly which fandom tangent the fandom also tends to do to Curly as they base every trait on what they think he failed to do as Captain#between Jimmy and Anya when the QnAs kinda make him out to be a rather open and willing person but still someone who isnt like a push over#just thinking of QnA three where it mentions hes very open to trying new things and you need to be an open minded person to open urself up#to failure like that and ig this is just the weird view that Curly needs to learn that or that theres redemption he needs personality wise#verses healing and learning from trauma like idk its the idea that people assume he did abosultely nothing when the games points out direct#and throught parallels he was taking actions its just wasnt enough and an over focus on absolute inaction vs ineffective methods used to#tackle the issues and themes the game grapples with plus wanting someone to take the blame and have to make it up to Anya even tho#i think it would mean nothing from Curly because she saw his efforts and would be disappointed it wasnt enough but the idea she would#disregard the attempts or not acknoweldge Jimmy as the epicenter compared ot Curly is weird and too focused on someone
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I am once again thinking about the reluctant ruler whose arc justly and correctly includes assuming the throne and taking responsibility for the people set before them
#it's about simba coming back to pride rock it's about aragorn using andúril to fight for middle earth and assuming the throne it's about#hiccup marrying astrid and assuming his role as chief and moses returning to egypt#and it's about irina loving her people so fully that when she claims all of her subjects as hers that chernobog must release them to her!!!#and it's about miryem choosing to stay with the staryk and repair the damage and assume responsibility for the land and people!!!!!#and! it's! about! gen!!!!#it's ALWAYS about gen!!!!#gen who didn't want to be king. who hated being king and only wanted to marry a queen but who obeyed his gods and became a king over kings#who lost his home and half his family and his HAND but who ushered in a new golden age.#and it's about sophos who ran away but who shot the ambassador and took back his kingdom#it's about duty and it's about sacrifice and it's always ALWAYS about doing the right thing even at great personal cost because it's about#submitting to a power higher than your own. of recognizing that the calling on life is one for serving others and having so much more to#answer for than just yourself. it's knowing duty is love is duty#i cant stand stories where the answer is 'give up the throne and reject your duty' because no!!! you dont get it!!!#thats how you get the monsters!!! thats how you get the prince turned into a beast and thats how you get every terrible weak king that#aragorn feared becoming#to accept your throne is to die to self!!! you are no longer you but 'king' or 'queen'#it's like queen mary says to qeii in the crown 'elizabeth mountbatten must die#elizabeth regina must take her place.'#that's terrifying! but it's also everything!!!!#die! to! self! die! to! self!!!!!!#lilac rambles#lilac goes to the movies#lion king#prince of egypt#lotr#spinning silver#the crown#tqt#the queen's thief#httyd
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had to cry a little after reading this. also i dont know why i didnt just put keep reading on it in the first place. ive known im not alone for a while but i feel like thats what accepting yourself is all about. i know im trans. its about turning the knowing into feeling.
your story is beautiful and im so grateful to hear it. its thrilling that i get to be a woman!!! and i wont be for a while, but i get to grow up like all the girls around me got to, just a little older physically. i'm lucky to be in quite an accepting environment and i cant help but want to echo the words youve said to people who need them more because theyre very valuable. im sure some places i wont be accepted, but as long as i accept myself, as long as its authentic enough for myself. i need to teach myself that thats when its okay. after today i feel more excited and ready to start than ever. im so grateful for this website, i feel more accepted than ever. im just getting to be that girl i could never quite put my finger on wanting to be, and thanks to the motivation from lovely women like yourself one day ill get to be in real life too. and itll all be okay in the end.
if only i was born that way, but maybe there's a reason why we were born trans too. im not particularly spiritual or religious, but in the back of my mind i like to believe everything happens for a reason. not even believe, just leave it on like a porchlight back there in case it leads anything good to me. look at me getting all poetic but everything is so insignificant that there must be a significance to it. the fact im here right now. one of a kind of the kind one of a kind. i was faced with a challenge so unique to myself and such a specific group of people, whatever i was meant to become. im here right now for a reason. this is one step in my story and what have you i dont actually know where im going with this im waffling erm.
i think bottom line is accepting my transness is accepting its beautiful. its not a mental illness and even if it is, so be it. above all it's me. this is who i am and i need to go live it or i'll die first.
i think im starting to accept that im a girl and. im just heartbroken
i feel robbed, i couldve been so much happier and im grateful that ill get to be, but its all so much more complicated. its not fair
i shouldnt feel as calm as i do. it seems so up here but i feel like its just stress masquerading as quiet. i just dont have the words anymore
they should get to work on that button
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it was just going to be a few warmup doodles but then she infected the rest of the page like the ever eternal and spreading spores. hod!!! hod. hod :)
#lobotomy corporation#lobcorp#hod#hod lobcorp#lobotomy corp spoilers#I GUESS i almost forgot i drew her box form#lobcorp spoilers#and michelle actually. ..#both very tiny. itty bitty. microscopic#other sephirah there too as normal. i cant have her alone. and Angelina as well on the top patting her#i have a hard time fully capturing her for some reason. in my mind. maybe its because is the disconnected period!!! mentally#she genuinely wishes to care and be kind yet theres a dissonance with what she does..? or how it ends up being taken or what she does to en#up bringing those actions into reality. she can be forceful? wanting to have employees attend therapy sessions and meetings for suppression#tactics. which i think is also something the safety team is incharge of iirc. so that means shes doing way more that what she needs to on#her job as a sephirah. just for the sake of employees#she really does care as shes one of the only to Directly attempt to change their circumstances and quality of life and health#sure chesed doesnt punish employees when they dont do their work assigned or stress them out with work#but he doesnt actively push to attempt to make changes to aid employees besides the research perks which is to the manager#yesod IS right next to her and does also genuinely care but when it comes to employees hes distant at best when it comes to them and the#way he tries to protect them is by enforcing rules but he doesnt really create or attempt to help them like hod does#yesod is sort of a passive? way of doing it. yes he doesn make a push to enforce said rules but he doesnt make new ones. just follows what#is already there in place. hod tries to make new ways and not just for the safety of people like how yesod's has them physically fine and#not letting them over a certain threshold of mental corruption but she tries to have a program to Directly Address such a thing#its born out of care but the genuine worry of being a good person and her naivety ends up having it do more harm than good#sure there may be some employees that actually like and find it useful but so many are just accepting to their fate of Dying to where#her care seems pointless. shes a sephirah and to them a literal metal box why would they go ahead and feel bad for what an 'ai' is feeling#as she is interrupting their free time in the company#which is rude. and shit. iirc the counseling is compulsory but people go because shes a sephirah and their superior. the thought was there#but again it comes off wrong and ends up not working because shes their superior in the end#EEK!!! yeah... hod. the hod. there is WAY more but i can't fit it all here and i already typed enough
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cannot decide if this moment in my fic drafts is real as fuck or a category twelve she would not fucking say that moment (for context, she's talking to the cairn maiden and projecting HARD in her grief-wracked rage and self-loathing)
#🐉#she never swears once in canon which is where most of my hangups lie because i think if anything would push her to itd be#a conversation with death. who rejected her twice over and left her prayers to her unanswered many times more.#also in this moment shes very much spewing an amalgamation of all the cruel words people have used to describe her#so i guess it doesnt matter if *VAL* would say that because its a dozen voices speaking through her own#but still. arghghgh.#yes its supposed to be jarring but i cant tell if its jarring in a good way or a dogshit one#VAL siltverses why is your dialogue style so distinctive and difficult to replicate or at least produce an acceptable substitute of
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