#if Jinx hadn’t existed

[thenarwhalgal]

At what point does Jinx’s crimes against Piltover in Arcane go from appalling, to an understandable if even necessary evil? This is not to say she did nothing wrong. It would be a lie to claim that. The whole point of Arcane is that even with the best intentions sometimes you just end up making everything worse.

But those who see all of her actions as bad because they’re terrorism, because ‘violence is wrong’… and therefore shooting a missile at the council is automatically an unforgivable crime, who can’t understand why they took her character the way they did in season 2, how Ekko could make up with her, how Zaun started looking up to her as a hero, I just want to ask a question.

At what point is it ethical to use violence as a tool against injustice and subjugation? If it ever is. Even if every peaceful option has been walked down before and the best that ever gets you is the tolerance of being allowed to exist as long as you don’t exist too loudly. That’s not a hard answer, there’s no definite line in the sand here. It’s one you have to draw yourself.

Personally? I think the reason some people look at Jinx and see an irredeemable monster, is because they live in a society that feels more like Piltover to them than Zaun. Have already drawn a line of what Zaun is in their society so that they live above it, are better than it.

How fucked does a country have to get before we can fight back and people will look back on us as revolutionaries instead of terrorists? Two sides of the same coin after all, the only real difference is perception.

[silcobrainrot]

***SPOILERS FOR THE FINALE DO NOT READ UNTIL YOUVE WATCHED***

I know TBSkyen has told us to sit with it for a while before deciding how we feel about the ending but I’m sorry I don’t think any amount of sitting with it is going to make me okay with them killing Jinx. The way she died wasn’t satisfying, the sacrifice meant almost nothing, and all the effort of those around her to keep her alive ended up going nowhere. Isha ends up being completely pointless because she’s only a plot device not a proper character and Jinx dies anyway. I don’t see how this was a satisfying conclusion to her narrative arc and character arc, I just don’t. Any supplemental material that makes it so she’s still alive in the games doesn’t matter to me because in the Arcane canon she is dead. To anyone not playing the games she is dead.

It’s making it hard for me to even want to rewatch it or enjoy what else was there because I’m just. I’m so goddamn fucking tired of seeing mentally ill characters have to die to lift the burden of their existence from others. Vi was so well adjusted and happy after. No mourning. No funeral/end of life rights. Her death was sudden and contrived just for some extra shock value. It didn’t feel like a tragic death, like out of a tragedy, bc this season wasn’t structured like a tragedy the way the first season felt. Her death didn’t feel inevitable and I’m furious because out of everyone. Out of EVERYONE. She deserved to live through this. She deserved to come out the other side of all her pain and suffering. She deserved to walk away from it all. But she didn’t. Because Borderlines are evil people and people with DID are evil and the only way they can redeem themselves is to die. The only happy ending is with them dead. The other two characters who showed suicidal ideation are also functionally dead. Whether or not they’re literally dead, the story’s over, they’re as good as dead.

Dont even get me started on how in her last moments she doesn’t see Isha or Silco (the two characters we SEE HER have a genuine familial bond with), only Vander (whom she has two sequences with in s1, the longer of which had no dialogue and was still less than a minute). She burned down The Last Drop—which she associated with Silco more than Vander now—to break the cycle of violence by killing the last connection to her past, she’s finally free, and then she fucking. Dies. Anyway.

God I want to enjoy what we did get but I just. I’m so tired of the end of my story always being that I have to die so other people can live.

[greenglowinspooks]

Honestly I think the fics where Danny’s a Kryptonian have a lot of potential, so here’s me throwing my hat into the ring

Danny was born a human. He was born to two loving (though slightly neglectful) human parents in the painfully mundane state of Illinois.

Then, he died, but he didn’t do it right. He became a Halfa; too alive to be a ghost, but too dead to be human.

Then, through strange, uncontrollable circumstances, that changed as well.

He had been heavily injured, missing a large percentage of body mass, and was at the cusp of either dying fully or just fading from existence.

(Perhaps it was an ordinary fight. Perhaps it was the GiW, or his parents. Perhaps it was a simple accident. That didn’t matter now.)

He fled, phasing through the ground, trying to bury himself as deep as possible.

(Perhaps he didn’t want to be unmasked in death. Perhaps that was already too late, and he just wanted his body be able to rest in peace.)

Unfortunately for him, he was in Metropolis, and ended up in a secret genetics lab below the earth.

Danny detransformed, completely exhausted, falling onto a table covered in different labeled specimen containers. He closed his eyes, and prepared himself for what would happen next.

And… nothing.

Slowly, cautiously, he opened his eyes.

Danny sat up, brushing off the foul-smelling liquid from the specimen jars, petri dishes, and assorted vials.

He felt…fine.

No, better than fine. He felt normal. Healthy.

He felt like he wasn’t missing most of his internal organs anymore.

Danny looked down at his stomach, and saw that the wounds that were killing him had completely disappeared.

(The blood blossoms, if there had been any, were still there, but they no longer hurt. At most, they itched a little, or maybe just tickled a bit.)

He wanted to question what in the hell had just happened, but he didn’t want to jinx it. He just quietly changed back to Phantom, going invisible and phasing out of wherever he had found himself in, ignoring the loud alarm system that had begun to blare when he broke the samples on that table.

Life mostly went back to normal after that.

If, like Danny, you ignored all the physical changes in a valiant effort to remain in denial that something was horribly wrong.

His skin was tougher, now; he didn’t get scrapes or cuts, even when he accidentally fumbled a knife while trying to cook. His ghost form was stronger, too; he was barely knocked down by his old rogues anymore.

He could fly, even in his human form. Though, admittedly, the flight was much different. It was like using a muscle he hadn’t known existed beforehand. He didn’t just ignore gravity or wind resistance, though he felt more graceful in the air now than he ever did as Phantom.

There were more powers popping up, lasers and cold breath, x-ray vision and super strength. His lungs and heart were larger, and he could handle temperatures much easier. He didn’t have to transform to handle the pressure and cold of space anymore.

His reaction time had improved, becoming much faster than ever before. His senses were much stronger, and he had even seemed to gain a sense of electric fields, like a shark.

The only thing that separated him from a Kryptonian was that he had developed electrokenesis, which he had never seen any of them use on TV.

So, surely, he was fine.

Everything was normal, he hadn’t been transformed by alien DNA in a sketchy lab, he had just had a really weird and specific metagene activation.

—

Clark Kent, Kal-El, was panicking.

It had been around a month and a half since a particularly brutal fight between Intergang and an unknown assailant, and it seemed that Intergang was determined to draw out whoever had scorned them.

Their method of doing this, of course, was trying to level the city.

He and Jon were doing their best to stop them, but with both Kon and Zor-El away on their own business, it was difficult.

And by difficult, he meant almost impossible.

Slowly but surely he was driving them back, but not without massive amounts of damage to the city, especially with only Jon on dedicated rescuing duty.

He was distracted, trying to draw a group away from a heavily occupied building, when a projectile hit him in the back of the head.

The world spun for a moment, and then it went black.

(It was, probably, then, some sort of Kryptonite-metal alloy. Intergang at its finest.)

He woke slowly, forcing his eyes open. He felt like he had been hit by an eighteen wheeler.

Clark jolted up, preparing for the worst.

To his shock, though, the city hadn’t been reduced to rubble while he was out.

Jon seemed to still be working on evacuation, either unaware that he had went down or forcing himself to focus on the task at hand.

Then, a lightning-quick figure flew into view, and Clark’s mind went blank.

He thought, for a moment, that Kara was back. But, no, that wasn’t right, she was supposed to be off-planet for another week or so.

Besides, this new figure didn’t move like her. They were lankier and more slender, and they flew quicker than any member of his family.

Their powerset was different, too; they focused mainly on using blasts of ice and electricity to drive enemies back, only occasionally using their strength or lasers—ones which came from their hands instead of their eyes.

He had woken up at the tail end of the fight, it seemed. The remaining Intergang members were fleeing from the mysterious metahuman.

They stayed in the sky, motionless, watching them leave.

As if they could sense him staring, they turned.

They were small, still clearly young. Probably around Kon’s age, or maybe even younger.

Instead of the colorful clothing he had inherited from his family, the stranger wore black and white clothes which looked similar to a hazmat suit, their face covered by some sort of gas mask.

Interestingly enough, instead of the S-shape crest that he was so used to seeing, the stranger wore the letter D on his chest.

Kal’s heart sped up.

From up in the sky, he heard the stranger’s heart, on the left instead of the right, speed up in return.

But before he could say a word to them, they sped off, disappearing into the deep blue sky.

[thisrots]

favorite girl

𖦹⭒°｡⋆ stalker!jinx x fem!reader (part 2)

part 1

; warnings: NSFW, gun, some pain inflicting, strap, messy sex, squirt, fingering, stretching out, some degrading/praise, switch!jinx x switch!reader (i think… fighting for dominance almost)

“You wore those just for me, toots?”

You felt a shockwave travel throughout your body as you heard those words roll out of Jinx’s mouth as she stood behind you. Eyes widening, breath picking up, room spinning a bit from the shock going straight to your head. This feeling wasn’t from fear, or anxiousness, it was from excitement. It was almost as if your fight or flight mode ceased to exist. Your fists balled up, squeezing tightly, little crescent marks beginning to form on your palms. That little seven letter sentence completely sobered you up, focused on nothing but the sound of Jinx’s boots clinking on the ground as she slowly walked around your room. For some reason, you refused to turn around. You were too busy trying to convince yourself that the moment you’d waited on for so fucking long was actually happening.

“Wanna know somethin’?” She asked, her finger grazing along your walls and desk, fiddling with the objects on it. “I’ve been in this room so many times, too many times to count.” Her steps moved closer to you, inches away now, standing right behind you. Her voice was a little rough, but soft, almost a whisper. Your body stiffened up, fists shivering. “But, this time is different. This is the first time I’m in it with you… awake.”

Her breath was hitting the back of your neck, making you gasp sharply. “Are you scared?” Jinx whispered tauntingly in your hear, making you quickly turn around to face her. To face the woman that haunted your life in the best fucking way possible. The woman who knew your every move, killed someone for you, and who could destroy you if she wanted to. There she was, face to face with you, a smirk plastered on her lips. Her eyes gleamed in the dark faintly lit room, pupils blown out. Her hands were behind her back, blue hair in her face, looking innocent yet so guilty.

“Jinx,” You said, voice breathy and quiet.

“That’s me.” She said, inching closer. She was just centimeters away now, so close you felt her body heat radiating off of her. Your heart pounded against your chest loudly, so loud you could hear every beat.

“What… What is it about me? Why me?” You questioned, hesitant but not stuttering. Your mind raced as you finally asked the question that tore you apart. You wondered what she’d say, your eyes darting all across her face, itching for a reaction out of her.

She raised her eyebrow then sneered, like she wasn’t expecting a question. “I could tell you weren’t scared from the start,” She started, walking around you, eyeing your body. “You might be hot, but you aren’t such a good actress. You do know that, right?”

Your eyes rolled at her comment, scoffing a bit. “Well-”

Jinx cut you off with the sudden click of her gun pressed against the back of your head. Your eyes shot open, tensing up against the cold metal. “Yet, you still put on that fucked up petrified face every time I got close to you. Like, like you… wanted to go along with it.” She made her way around you again, gun still cocked on your head, nose to nose with you now as she spoke. “You did that for me, didn’t you? You did that to please me. You… You’re fucking crazy.” Her eyes glared at you, snickers escaping her lips as she spoke.

Your eyebrows furrowed, flush forming on your cheeks. She’d known all along, which irritated you. I mean, if she knew, why hadn’t she done something about it sooner? “Funny, coming from you. Answer my fucking question.”

“C’mon, babe… Don’t you get it?” Jinx leaned in, lips hovering over yours, her other hand gripping on your jaw. “I just fucking did.”

That did it for you. Your lips crashed into hers, a moan escaping your mouth as the two of you melted into one. Her long tongue slithered its way into your mouth, battling for dominance with your own. She threw the gun on your bed, slamming you down on it, tongues still intertwined. Her saliva dripped into your mouth as she groaned against you, hips grinding against your damp panties. You wrapped your arms around her neck, fingertips feeling her skin, something you’d been dreaming to do for so long. She suddenly pulled away from you, sitting up on your thighs, panting as she spoke.

“Do ya wanna know something else I know?” She asked, head tilting as her hand reaching down, fingers trailing against the bottom of your stomach, making the heat build up inside your thighs again. You weren’t sure if you really wanted to know, but you nodded anyway, hoping whatever it was would get her to put her fingers inside you.

“I know about your late night activities,” Jinx said as she leaned over you, hand slowly creeping its way into your panties, making your legs spread. Your cheeks flushed a bright pink, biting down on your lip.

“I memorized the way you’d call out for me every time you came. I mean, seriously, every fucking time. I memorized your face, your body, the certain pitch your moans made right when you were on edge,” Her hand slipped in, grazing over your clit, playing with the wetness dripping out of your hole. You gasped at the sensation, gripping onto the sheets, eyes darting towards her face. You were desperate at this point, skin on fire from her teasing, wanting nothing more than for her to completely wreck you. “Wanna know one more thing?”

You nodded quickly, “Yes, please. Tell me, hurry.”

She giggled, tutting at your pleading. “What a needy thing.” She licked along your ear, nibbling it softly before she whispered, “I memorized the way you fucked yourself while you imagined it was me.”

Her two fingers slipped in, so smoothly, so easily, like you were molded perfectly for her. Like she belonged inside of you. Your back arched, eyes rolling back, moaning loudly. She groaned as she pushed them in as far as they’d go, feeling as you clenched around her. The ear nibble quickly turned into a bite, drawing blood from your ear. She licked it up, pumping in and out of you, curling her fingers just the way you liked it. You yelped at the sudden sharp pain, but quickly forgot about it as your whole body was swallowed by pleasure.

“Jinx!” You called out for her, hands gripping on her shoulders, nails digging into her skin.

She looked at you, eyes full of desire and glow, trying her best to stay composed as she continued. “Jeez, you’re wearin’ out my name, toots.”

“You… You promise you were looking?” You asked, eyes lowered, a smirk rising up on your face.

Jinx scoffed, eyebrows raised. “You’re way worse than my stalking habit, you know that?” She suddenly pulled out, stared into your eyes, and put the fingers that were just inside of you in her mouth. Your eyes widened, jaw dropping slightly, breath hitching.

“Sweet.” Was all she said before she practically tore your panties off, leaving you naked, exposing the stickiness between your thighs as she spread them open and stared into it. “Wow, look at you!Do guns against your head turn you on, doll?” She taunted as she poked at your clit, making your whole body twitch. You suddenly sat up, pulling her towards you, and kissed her again. You slid your tongue in her mouth to taste yourself as you began to tug her pieces of clothing off. One by one they left her body, leaving her just as bare and vulnerable as you.

“There,” You muttered, lips now resting against her neck. “Now we’re even.” You bit down, sucking and swirling your tongue on her pale skin, leaving behind red and purple bruises. You were totally marking her, making sure everyone knew that she belonged to you just as much as you belonged to her. You reached down her stomach, further down, until you reached her sopping cunt. It was practically drooling for you, her head throwing back and a strained moan escaping her lips as your finger gently pressed against her clit. You rubbed in slow circles, hearing her breath hitch as she slowly began to lose control.

“H-Handsy, aren’t ya?” Jinx muttered out, her lanky, cold hands gripping onto your shoulders as her hips bucked on your fingers, like she was asking for more without using words. You grinned softly at her neediness, knowing that in reality, as scary as she wanted to seem, you were the one who had the power. You’d known that all along, too. The two of you were a panting, moaning, needy mess as you continued to tease her. You wanted her to break first, to throw you down and spread you apart, to use you until she was satisfied. You could tell she was close to breaking—her face twisting up every time you’d stop rubbing, nose twitching, moans growing louder and more frustrated. She was so fucking cute.

You were quickly thrown back onto the bed as she got up for a second, rummaging through the bag she had brought.

“What are you—”

“Jeez, give me a second, will ya?” Jinx said as she strapped something on her hips, rolling your eyes at her. “It’s something special.” She turned around, grinning wide as a violet, glowing strap hung off of her. Your eyes widened at her length, looking back up to meet her eyes. “I made this just for you, toots!” She said proudly. “You said I could do whatever I wanted, right?” She questioned, climbing back on the bed, propping you up against the wall.

“Well,” You started, thighs opening up for her. “I did say something like that.” Her face lit up, wasting no time as she positioned the tip of the toy against your drippy hole. “Open wiiiiide!” She said as she pushed your thighs back, pressing them against your chest. You looked away in embarrassment, eyes shutting for a second, before you felt the sharp pain of her palm hitting your cheek. Your eyes shot back open, jaw dropping a bit as you stared at her hardened expression. “Look at me. Don’t close your eyes, got it?” Jinx instructed, holding onto your jaw as she forced your face towards her. “Gods, that look on your face fucking kills me…” She said as she slowly slid her member inside of you.

A slow, loud moan rolled out of your mouth as she did so, eyes rolling back. You gripped onto her back, nails running down against it, leaving red marks all along it. “Shit,” You hissed. “So—So fucking big…" She was stretching you out, making your face twist up as she pushed the toy in deeper.

“Oh, I know, baby. But you can take it, can’t you? I made this special just for you. Don’t ruin it, alright? I believe in you!” She cooed a little mockingly as she forced it in all the way. Jinx knew how to please you. She’d learned how to from afar, taking the time to make the perfect toy for you with the notes she’d taken from her watching you orgasm time and time again. It hit your g-spot just right, grazing against it every time she thrusted, the violet light glowing so brightly, showing how deep inside you she was. She fucked so hard against you that the toy repeatedly slapped against your clit, sending jolts all throughout your body.

“Fuck, s-so deep…” She started, pressing against the bulge the toy created against your skin. Jinx was… messy, to say the least. She would rut into you, thrusts heavy and deep, wanting to fill up every inch of you. The strap of the toy rubbing against her puffy clit every time she did so. Poor thing was so wet, she was moaning louder than you were. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth, drool dripping along your breasts, her chipped nails digging into your waist as she continued. Her makeup was smudged, panting like a dog in heat. She was starving before you, patiently waiting for this moment. Hungry for your warmth. Waiting to make you hers. She looked down at your stretched out hole, slick noises coming from it as she fucked into you. “L-Look at you, taking me so well. So… s’fucking… mmh! Good!”

You knew that last part wasn’t praise, she was moaning out about how good she felt. It sounded like she was the one getting pounded into. She was greedy and desperate, face completely fucked out. You smirked, legs spreading wider, staring deep into her eyes. “Look at—mmh—me? Look at you. Such a mess even though I’m the one getting fucked.”

Jinx whined at your comment, face nuzzling into your neck, tongue grazing along your skin as she savored the salty taste of your sweat. “Been waitin’ on this for so long, I can’t—I can’t help it!” She mewed out, her voice cracking as her speed picked up. “You—You’re gonna fucking kill me, doll!”

Your fingers reached for the gun that laid beside you, wrapping your hand around it as you pointed it to her head. A smirk curled up on your face as Jinx’s eyes met yours, widened and full of shock. You bit your lip at the sight of her face, feeling a tightness growing at the bottom of your stomach, your moans increasingly getting higher.

“Are—Are you—scared?” You mocked, sentence choppy, finger shaking as it rested against the trigger. Jinx groaned out, cackling as she positioned the toy to hit nothing but the spot that made your toes curl. Your back arched, struggling to keep the gun held up, screaming out as she did so.

“Ah, ah, ah! You wanna be oh so big and bad? Keep the fucking gun on me, or I’ll pull out. I can tell you’re close.” She hissed, hand on your cheeks, forcing you to look at nothing but her. She had slobber on her jaw, hair sticking to her sweaty forehead, her whiny moans growing louder as you pressed the gun against her head harder. “You’re mine. You’re all fucking mine. Your—Your hole is mine, your body is mine, your mind is mine. Y-You’re—fucking—mine!”

You could feel your walls tightening around the toy, your body begging for release. Your thighs began to quiver underneath her, eyes watering up. “Everything is y-yours! All of me is yours, Jinx, everything! Please let me come. Let me fucking come, pleasepleaseplease!” You begged, hips bucking against the toy.

“Pull the trigger.” She demanded, trying her best to keep herself together. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, s’close…”

Your eyes widened a bit at her command, hand trembling, eyes darting towards the gun then back to her face as you hesitated. You knew Jinx’s weapons were always loaded, was she really that crazy? Her grip tightened on your face, moaning out in frustration. “Come on, do it for me, my favorite girl. Do it for me, make me come. Be a good girl, yeah? Pull the fucking trigger! Just—”

Click.

Your heart skipped a beat, holding your breath. The second her empty gun clicked, Jinx threw her head back, moaning your name out loudly as spurts of squirt escaped her cunt, the warmness spreading over your pussy. You stared in awe of the view, watching as she came before you. You reached your orgasm soon after, dropping the gun to wrap your arms around her neck and hold her close as cum gushed out of you and onto her strap. You scratched up her shoulders, bit into her skin, teeth sinking deep in her. She moaned out at the pain, making her orgasm ride out longer, fucking you slow and deep to draw yours out as well. She pulled out after, limp body laying on yours, panting as her head rested on your stomach. You laid there motionless, taking deep breaths as you played with her loose hair, staring at the wall in front of you.

You were speechless. You didn’t believe it was real, having sex with Jinx. You’d thought about it for so long, how could you possibly know if this was real or part of your imagination? You looked down at her, eyes closed as her other hand gripped onto your thigh. She’s real, right? You thought to yourself, finger poking at her cheek to get a reaction out of her. She opened one eye, whining at you. “Hey, what the hell?”

“S-Sorry.” You replied, still staring at her. She groaned, sitting up in front of you.

“What, cat got your tongue?” She teased, giggling a bit.

“No! Just…” You started, reaching over to grab onto her hand. “You’re real, right?”

Silence. Her eyes blinked a couple times before she let a cackle out, pulling you in closer to her face. “Oh, you bet I’m real, baby. You’re mine. I’m gonna make your life a living hell.”

You smiled, staring into the same violet eyes you’d fallen for a long time ago. Her response excited you more than the actual sex itself. “You promise?”

[jaggedamethyst]

boy savor ⏳✨

ekko (arcane) x f!reader

content: ekko using time...to his advantage

18+ minors dni, smut, porn w/slight plot, edging, soft, (just trust me ik they sound different lmao), oral (f!receiving), complicated/ unlabeled relationship, angst, mentions of death, not proofread

notes: i am a timebomb truther but this is set after the whole ordeal so literally months if not a year or more after the finale...and no the title isn't spelled wrong just read it.

main master list

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

You and Ekko found each other after everything. He’d lost his friend—and something more—when Jinx disappeared. Ekko had remained steadfast; she wasn’t dead, couldn’t be. You would nod, affirming him. You understood what others might deem delusion—and empathized with the desire to have someone be alive. 

For you, it was your dad. Like many others you were sent away—forced to join the herds of people who piled up to leave town. This came, of course, in spite of what you wanted. If it was up to you, you’d have stayed. You would’ve died alongside your father. Instead, you were left to wonder if he even actually was gone. With a body never actually being found it was hard to not think other wise.

The relationship between you and Ekko went unlabeled and remains that way. You both could agree, though, that in the midst of the pain the presence of each other filled a void that would persist for years. Deep down you knew that if Jinx did ever show up he would leave without a second thought. But the gentleness he held with you was enough to make the thought a throwaway. 

In a single word, you would quickly describe Ekko as tender. When you were together the just barely there touches and faint grasps made you feel light—as if you could escape him at any moment. Freeing yourself was the last thing on your mind, though. You’d stay with him, like this, in any timeline…forever.

“Can I try something?” Ekko spoke between breaths, lips kissing on the inner skin of your thighs. He’d paused his devouring of you to glance up, motioning next to him. 

“Uh huh,” you were close. The question hadn’t made a difference to you. You didn’t bother to look in the direction he waved. Whatever he did, whatever he intended to try—you would still unravel in a few seconds. If there was no other proof, the heat emanating off of you would be enough. 

A second later, the sound of a clattering filled the room. The fire in you tamed a bit and Ekko had his lips wrapped around your clit again. Just as he had before speaking up. You panted, feeling his breath fanning over you. He continued to move his entire mouth into you, sucking and moving up and down with an urgency that had your legs twisting erratically. 

Ekko slipped in two fingers, then, pulsing them in and out of you at a steady tempo that made you whine. The sound was melodic for him—it made him want to do this a thousand more times, and he would. 

“Can I try something?”

Without thinking, you replied, “Uh huh.”

The phrase felt sticky on your tongue, as if it had left a residue lingering there. You blinked, looking beside you as Ekko fumbled for the counter. He moved up your body, kissing over your chest as he pulled on a string. 

In an incomprehensible moment of time, his lips found you again. Ekko moved against you and you writhed as a result. He felt your body lift and looked up through his lashes to examine you. A smirk found the space between you, a sheen over the bottom half of his face. 

“What?” He asked as he moved a finger to push your clit up and down. The steady and slow pressure was one you loved—and it almost always had you fumbling for him like you were now. The heat found you, again, and gave you pause. A hand found the top of his head grasping at his hair for relief, the fleeting feeling of déjà vu causing you to yank his head up. 

“Ekko-“ 

“You said I could try something…”

Creating a tool to wield time in the palm of his hand was single handedly the pinnacle of Ekko’s existence and nothing else came close to it. Nothing except his ability to use it to his advantage. He loved the sensation of you pulsing against him, the inadvertent response to his body on yours. He could bask in the sound of your quickened breaths, survive off of the feeling of your fingers clawing at him. Every movement that even resembled you finishing for him made him desire the sight, feeling, and sound even more. 

He tapped around, finding the string much easier this time. He had, after all, done this before. Ekko’s fingers twisted and nudged the dial back an additional few seconds. You watched the world seem to warp around you and your sentience of the current moment seem to slip away. 

The sound of his name teetered on your lips again, dragging at the feel of your climax reverting back to being just on the edge of explosion. 

He was still so delicate with you, savoring every moment he had with you. He spoke quickly, “You okay?” 

You sucked in your own lips, stifling a moan. “Mhm.” 

“Knew you could handle it.” 

You nodded, not speaking but revelling in the feeling—inching on the precipice of finally finishing, again that was. 

Ekko had never done this before, tortured you so sweetly in this way. Going back every few seconds added a weight to you that was surprisingly comforting. Reverting to a moment in time, just before he had you fully undone, welled tears in your eyes. 

He licked and slurped you, his fingers again pushing in and out of you. Ekko let his other hand snake up and kneed into the warmth of your stomach. Your lower half began to match his rhythm, swirling up and around in circles. 

“I’m,” you sucked in a sharp breath, “I’m gonna-“ 

He heard the slurred words. The moist sound of your words was an indicator, too. Every detail about you was intoxicating. He couldn’t think too far ahead, just for now. 

Ekko became more fervent, speeding up every pace he’d found. You could no longer keep up; you let the feeling of him guide you. The once slowly building embers snapped in you and jolted your entire body in half—your spine finding its way away from the mattress. 

He crawled up, kissing your lips sweetly until he’d lost breath…and when he did, a crank filled the room. He’d kiss you forever if he could—and with time at the palm of his hands, he’d make sure this feeling would last a lifetime. 

[thesecondhandwoman]

ISHA’S DEATH

Sevika x f!reader

Synopsis: Sevika is devastated after learning that Isha, the young girl Jinx had found and whom Sevika had grown close to, died sacrificing herself to protect Jinx during a violent incident. Stricken with guilt and grief, Sevika crumbles, unable to cope with the loss, especially since she wasn’t there when it happened. In a rare moment of vulnerability, Sevika falls apart in your arms, desperately needing comfort.

The news came like a thunderstorm on a clear day.

Sevika had always been the one who was prepared for anything, the one who could take on a hundred enemies without flinching, the one who could shoulder any burden, no matter how heavy. But this news—this thing—was different. It wasn’t a fight. It wasn’t a betrayal. It wasn’t something that could be punched out of existence.

It was a loss. A cruel, senseless loss.

Isha. The little girl Jinx had found when she was barely more than a whisper of herself, a non-verbal, rebellious spark of defiance that had found a home in the chaos of the world they lived in. Isha, the one Sevika had grown attached to, who had wormed her way into her heart with her unspoken resilience and her quiet, yet unwavering loyalty.

And now she was gone.

Sevika stood at the doorway, her broad frame framed by the dim light outside, looking like she had just been struck by a physical blow. Her eyes were wide, unseeing, staring at the floor as if it could give her the answers she needed. Her normally composed expression was gone, replaced by something raw, something wild, as if she was trying to process the unthinkable.

You had heard the whispers long before she walked through the door—gossip, rumors, half-truths—but you had hoped, prayed that it wasn’t true. That Isha was still out there, laughing her silent laugh, running circles around Jinx as they always did.

But when Sevika had stepped into the apartment, her face a mask of disbelief, you knew.

You knew that the storm was finally here.

“Sevika…” you whispered, your voice a tentative thread of concern. You had never seen her like this.

Sevika didn’t answer, and you knew she wouldn’t. She wasn’t the type to speak when words could never be enough. You approached her slowly, your heart pounding, unsure of what to do, how to comfort her when the hurt was so vast, so endless.

Her eyes met yours, and you felt your breath catch in your throat. They were empty. There was no fire in them, no hardness, no walls. Only a hollow, vast emptiness that swallowed everything in its path.

“Isha’s dead,” Sevika rasped, her voice thick, hoarse, and cracking. “She… she died saving Jinx. I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there… and she’s dead.”

The words didn’t feel real, not in the way they should. Isha was a kid, a girl who had barely started her life, a girl who’d found something like family in the wreckage of their broken world.

The details were hazy, but you had heard enough—an accident. A violent break-out. A sacrifice.

She had stepped in front of Jinx.

You felt the ground beneath you tilt. Isha had always been so quiet, so protective in her own way, but you hadn’t thought of her being so… brave. To protect someone with her life, someone who meant everything to her… to her family. You knew how much Sevika had cared for Isha—she had never said it aloud, but in the quiet moments, when Jinx was distracted or the others were fighting, Sevika had been the one to watch over the girl.

The one who tried to fill the space that had been left when everything had fallen apart.

You reached out instinctively, your hand brushing the sleeve of Sevika’s jacket, but she flinched away as if your touch was too much, too soon. It was like she couldn’t breathe, like the air had thickened and pressed against her chest.

“I wasn’t there,” she repeated, this time with more anguish, her voice cracking under the weight of guilt and helplessness. “I wasn’t there. I should’ve been there. I should’ve—”

Her voice broke on the last word, and before you could stop her, Sevika dropped to her knees. You rushed to her side, your heart in your throat, but she was already shaking. Not violently, but with that quiet tremble that comes before something breaks.

“I should’ve been there,” Sevika whispered again, almost to herself, her hands gripping the floor like she was trying to anchor herself to something solid, something real. “I promised… I promised I’d protect her.”

You knelt beside her, your arms reaching out to her cautiously. You weren’t sure if she wanted comfort, if she wanted anything from you at all. But when she didn’t pull away, you wrapped your arms around her, pulling her into your chest, pressing her face to your neck, the warmth of her breath sending a chill through your body.

Her hands clenched at the fabric of your shirt, like she was trying to hold on to something that wasn’t slipping away. Her body trembled against yours, and the soft sobs that had been building inside her finally spilled out in a quiet, guttural sound.

“I couldn’t protect her,” Sevika gasped, her voice trembling with frustration and sorrow. “I wasn’t there when she needed me. I wasn’t there when she gave herself up. I couldn’t… I didn’t—”

You shushed her gently, running your fingers through her hair, pressing her closer to you. You knew the words wouldn’t heal the wound, not now, not with what had happened. But you also knew that she needed to feel something besides the crushing weight of guilt and helplessness.

“She knew you loved her, Sevika,” you whispered, your voice soft but firm. “She knew you would’ve been there if you could. She knew you would’ve died for her. She knew.”

Sevika’s sobs deepened, her body going limp against yours as she let go of the dam she had been holding inside. She clung to you like a lifeline, her tears soaking your neck, her breath ragged and uneven. She wasn’t just mourning Isha’s death. She was mourning her own inability to protect the one person who had needed her the most, who had trusted her the most.

“I failed her,” Sevika whispered through the tears. “I failed her like I failed everything. I failed them all.”

“No,” you said softly, your hand pressing against the back of her head, guiding her gently back to look at you. “No, you didn’t. You’ve been there for them, for Jinx, for everyone. You can’t save everyone, Sevika. Not all of them.”

The words felt empty, but you couldn’t find any better way to express the helplessness that had settled over you both. The truth was, there was no right way to console someone in the face of such loss. You couldn’t bring Isha back. You couldn’t undo the past.

But you could hold Sevika. You could hold her as she crumbled in your arms.

“I’m here,” you murmured, your voice steady despite the heartbreak you felt inside. “I’m here, Sevika. You’re not alone in this. You’re not alone.”

It wasn’t much, but it was all you had to give. And, in that moment, it had to be enough.

So, you stayed there with Sevika, cradling her in your arms as her sobs slowly began to taper off into quiet, exhausted whimpers. The weight of her grief still pressed down on her like a suffocating storm, but her tears had slowed, the brokenness of it all sinking deeper into her bones.

She didn’t speak anymore—just leaned into you, her breath shallow and uneven, her body trembling in your arms as if she couldn’t quite shake the agony of the moment.

There was no magic cure for the pain she felt. No comforting words that would ever be enough to erase the guilt and loss clawing at her heart. Isha was gone, and no amount of regret could bring her back.

Still, you kept holding her. One hand pressed against her back, the other running through her hair in slow, soothing strokes. It wasn’t much, but it was the only thing you could offer—your presence, your warmth, and the unwavering understanding that she didn’t have to shoulder this alone.

You could feel her exhaustion seeping through her, the weight of everything finally wearing her down, and slowly, very slowly, her body relaxed. The tense shuddering of her muscles eased, her sobs becoming faint little gasps. You shifted slightly, adjusting your position to support her more comfortably, but she didn’t pull away.

You kept your voice quiet, just barely a whisper, speaking into the quiet space between you both. “It’s okay to rest now, Sevika. You’ve been holding on for so long… it’s okay.”

Her only response was a small, broken exhale, and then, finally, her body went completely limp in your arms. She was still—completely still—and her breath became deeper, more regular, as if sleep had finally claimed her.

The tears had stopped, leaving only the softest trace of salt on your skin. You felt her weight, the heaviness of her heartbreak, resting on you as she slept. Her face was peaceful for the first time in what felt like forever, though the faintest shadow of pain still lingered in her features.

You didn’t want to move. You didn’t want to disturb her. Sevika, the fighter, the protector, was finally letting herself fall apart, and for the first time, she was allowing herself to be weak, to be human. The woman who could take on the world had crumbled into your arms, and though it tore your heart to pieces, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of tenderness toward her in that moment.

You stayed with her, as the hours passed, your body still aching from the grief you couldn’t fix. But as Sevika slept, the sound of her breath steadying in the crook of your neck, you realized something. She had needed this, even if she couldn’t admit it. Even if she hadn’t known she needed it. She had needed to break, needed to feel the comfort of being held in someone else’s arms, to know she didn’t have to be strong all the time.

And so, you stayed.

The night passed, and time seemed to lose meaning as you sat there, holding Sevika as she slept. Her heartbeat had slowed, her face now softened in sleep, and despite everything—the tragedy, the pain, the emptiness—you felt a quiet hope bloom inside you.

Tomorrow, you would help her heal. It wouldn’t happen quickly, and it wouldn’t be easy, but together, you would find a way to carry the weight of this loss.

For now, you just held her.

And in the stillness of the night, as the world outside seemed to hold its breath, you wished you could make the ache in her heart disappear. But for tonight, you could only be there, as she rested, utterly broken—but not alone.

[esotericsorrow]

every breath you take (i'll be watching you) - ekko x reader

(ekko pov)

wc: 4k

ekko travels to another timeline. he experiences a glimpse of what could've been. maybe in another life.

warnings: angst

ekko knew he was somewhere he was not supposed to be. he was in zaun, but...he was not. this zaun was something that looked like it came out a fairytale. it was not drowned in the chaos of the undercity. it was not darkened by the gloomy fog that existed ever since he came into this world, haunting him every day. he was not in zaun. of this, he was certain.

because how else would you explain the sight in front of him? in front of his eyes stood six figures from his miserable past. benzo, vander, mylo, claggor, powder and…you. but it wasn't possible. the former four were dead. powder was no longer powder, but jinx and you..

you were his biggest mistake. his biggest regret. his biggest what if? he loathed you and loved you all the same. his enemy and his greatest love.

you looked wrong. god, you looked so right. you were smiling. he could see your pearly white teeth. he could see the crinkle of your eyes. he could hear the melodic tune of your laughter. you were happy and bright, not at all like the girl he knew, the one he fought tooth and nail to kill in his timeline. you were beautiful. you had always been, but there was a special spark in your eyes now. one he wanted to capture a picture of and etch it deep in his heart. one he hoped would never leave you.

he snapped out of his daze once he noticed your eyes on him. your eyes seemed awaiting. you had asked him something. he rubbed his neck a little sheepishly. “what were we talking about again?”

you chewed at the straw of the drink vander had poured you. ekko watched silently, remembering moments of your childhood where you still did that.

"your competition. it’s in two days.”

ekko blinked, trying to hide his confusion. “r-right. the competition.” he cleared his throat, racking his brain for what possible ‘competition’ his other self could've signed up for. he prayed you wouldn't ask for progress updates.

you blew air through the straw, watching it bubble at the drink. ekko solemnly smiled.

“you ready?”

“ready as i’ll ever be,” he said, trying to hide the tension in his voice. he had no idea what the competition was for. he’d have to play along till he finds out. “you coming to watch?” he asked, trying to hide his nervousness as he eyed you.

you plopped your head at the bar table and turned to face him with a cheeky grin. “course. i’d be a shitty girlfriend if i didn’t.”

ekko’s heart skipped a beat. he hadn't expected that—girlfriend. this other version of himself had everything. his friends, his home, you. he swallowed, shoving aside the mixture of feelings swirling in his chest. “you’re not shitty,” he mumbled. ‘you’re perfect.”

you smiled softly as you weakly punched him. ‘i was joking.”

he playfully winced at the hit, but a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “i know, i know.”

ekko reached out to grab your hand, idly running his thumb along the back of it. his eyes darted around, taking in everything about you– your smile, your every gesture, your laugh, your eyes. he hadn’t expected to feel so jealous of his doppelganger. 

you noticed his dazed state and gently gripped his hands. “you alright babe?”

ekko paused for a moment, the weight of the question hanging in the air. he wanted to tell you everything. he wanted to spill out his guts to you. he was in the wrong timeline. this was not his world. he was not your ekko. yet, he couldn't bring himself to say it.

he settled for a forced smile. “yeah. just nervous about the competition, I guess,”

you pulled yourself up and grasped at the straw, delicately placed it in your mouth. his eyes never strayed from you. “no way. you and powder have been working on it for months. you’re gonna crush it,”

there. that feeling again–that pang of jealousy mixed with guilt at the mention of ‘powder’ that spilled so casually from your lips. he had lost that chance to know her in his world. here, she was a shining memory, not the monster he knew.

ekko forced a nod, trying to hide the way his jaw tensed. ‘yeah,” he muttered. ‘i know. i just..i don't want to disappoint you, y’know?”

you smiled at him softly. “you know you could never do that.”

those words hit harder than he expected, a pang of longing in his chest. this other version of himself had everything he’d ever wanted, everything that had been stolen from him. he swallowed, fighting back the tightness in his throat.

“yeah. i know.”

he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, letting the moment linger between them. for a brief moment, he let himself imagine what it would be like to stay in this timeline, to forget about everything else and just… be.

ekko took a deep breath as you turned to continue conversation with mylo, claggor and powder, finally allowing him to truly take in what's around him. old memories flashed through his mind. powder was smiling, blissfully innocent, like the timeline itself was protecting her from becoming jinx. mylo looked less brooding, and claggor stood beside him with a smile. 

it was strange, seeing them like this. they were so young, so carefree—the opposite of how he’d seen them last. 

vander handed out drinks, a fatherly smile on his face. it was odd, seeing him alive and well, like the past hadn’t chewed him up and spat him out. benzo sat next to him, chuckling away at something. ekko doesn't know how he doesn't burst into tears every time from the sight of him.

he was still waiting for somebody to slap him out of his daydream. they were all alive. this world… it was like a sick twist of fate, dangling everything he’d lost right in front of him, then snatching it away. it was a bittersweet reminder of all the friends and family he had lost in his own timeline.

he accepted the drink with a nod of thanks, taking a sip as he half-listened to the conversation around them. ekko couldn’t help but observe how at ease everyone seemed. there was none of the tension or the edge that came from surviving on the streets of zaun. they were safe. they were happy.  

ekko found himself getting lost in your laughter, the sound melodic and full of genuine joy. it made him ache. the more he saw of this life that wasn’t his, the more he wanted it.

claggor nudged ekko to snap him out of his daydream. “oi. quit that loverboy.”

ekko snapped out of his dazed staring, a flush of embarrassment creeping onto his cheeks. he had been caught—staring at you like a lovesick puppy. claggor’s comment made the others chuckle, including you, and ekko couldn't help but admire how devastatingly beautiful you were.

“shut up,” ekko muttered, shoving claggor lightly. “i can look at my girlfriend if i want to.”

you chuckled at claggor and beamed at him and ekko felt his heart skip a beat, the happiness in your smile hitting him like a punch to the gut. he smiled back, though his was tinged with a hint of melancholy.

every moment he spent here, every smile and laugh from you, felt like a taunt. this world wasn’t meant for him. he was an intruder, someone who didn’t belong. yet, he couldn’t help but wish he could stay in this world forever, surrounded by friends and with you in his life.

the night sky appeared, and powder sneakily tweaked the speaker to play some tunes that vander deemed ‘not age appropriate’. as he tried to figure how to ‘turn that darned thing off’, powder, with the knowledge he would not be able to do so, pulled claggor and mylo to the dance floor and moved with the music, laughing and giggling at the horrid moves claggor was exhibiting and the pathetic attempt of flirting mylo was once again torturing the poor waitress with.

he watched them, his mind a swirling mess of emotions. this world… it was everything he had ever wanted, yet so far out of reach.

he took a long swig of his drink, trying to drown out the ache in his chest. if he looked at you any longer, he was going to do something he knew he’d regret—something like stealing you away from this perfect world and bringing you into his messed-up one.

soon after, you stood up and extended your hand towards him, bowing slightly, with a grin on your face, “care to indulge me, my good sir?”

he looked down at your outstretched hand, warring emotions in his eyes. part of him wanted to take it, to let himself get lost in the dance with you. the other part knew it would only make the inevitable hurt worse.

but looking into your eyes, seeing the happiness and the innocence there, he couldn’t resist the pull. 

“yeah,” he chuckled, standing up. “i’d love to.”

powder noticed movement from the corner of her eye and swiftly rushed to the speaker where vander was still fixing it or rather just yelled and hoped it listened. powder ignored vander's protests and changed the song to one of a slow dance and grinned to herself. she held up her fist expectantly, and vander watched your figure dragging ekko to the floor and smiled slightly as he formed a fist of his own and bumped it against hers. he pinched her cheek soon after.

ekko followed you to the dance floor, allowing himself to be led by your hand. as you reached the center, he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against him. he was acutely aware of how right it felt to have you this close, your body pressed against his. 

he moved with the music, though it was clear he was a little clumsy compared to this body’s natural rhythm.

despite it all, ekko found himself grinning, laughing as you both stumbled through the dance together. it was far from elegant, both of you occasionally tripping over each other's feet or losing the beat. 

yet, in that moment, none of it mattered. it was the most fun he'd had in a long time. he was dancing with you, holding you close, and just for that single moment, all his worries seemed to fade away.

once the song ended, ekko suggested leaving the crowded dance floor. the noise and the dancing had become too much for him, and he needed a moment to clear his head.

he led you up to the rooftop, the cool night air a gentle breeze against your faces. the view from up here was breathtaking, the city lights below like a sea of stars against the darkened city.

you smiled as you interlocked your hand with his, recalling a fond memory. “remember ekko? here's where you confessed. here's where i became your girlfriend 5 years ago.”

he chuckled, a fond yet bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “how could I forget?” 

here was where, in this timeline, this version of himself had confessed his feelings for you. he could imagine it—the nervous energy, the hope in his heart, the pounding of his own heart in his ears. but that wasn’t him. those memories, those moments—they belonged to the ekko of this timeline. not him.

he tried to ignore the pang of jealousy in his chest as he looked at you.

“it was sunny. so bright. like the sun had come out just for us.”

he closed his eyes, picturing the scene. sun rays streaming down, a soft, gentle breeze, and a clear sky overhead. a perfect day, a perfect moment. 

je could see it in his mind's eye—the other ekko, confessing his feelings to you here under the sun's warm glow. the jealousy clawed at his heart once more.

"yeah.”

you gently pulled him forward to seat yourselves at the edge of the roof. ekko watched the city lights below, making the buildings look surreal and dream-like. he leaned back, the cool night air a soft caress against his skin. 

his mind was still a tangled mess of thoughts, his feelings for you, and his guilt for being here mixing in a confusing jumble. but sitting here, this close to you, he couldn’t force himself to pull away.

you watched the city life below, dangling your feet, making it hit the wall back and forth. you don't look up as you ask, “you're not my ekko, are you?”

ekko's heart dropped, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. he closed his eyes, his breath catching in his chest. he had tried so hard to keep it a secret, to pretend like everything was fine.

but you had seen through him. you knew.

he didn't say anything for a moment, the silence between you hanging heavy. then, finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, "no. i'm not.”

you don't look up from where you watched your feet dance in the air. the silence hung heavy between you both, each in your own thoughts. ekko's mind whirled, his heart aching at the fact that you had figured him out. he had wanted to keep pretending, to enjoy this one moment for just a bit longer.

he swallowed, his fingers clenching and unclenching where they rested against the rooftop. "how did you know?"

“it was raining the day you confessed to me.”

ekko's heart clenched at the words. it was a small, seemingly insignificant detail, but it was enough to give him away. he hadn't even noticed that, amidst the tangle of feelings and memories he was trying to keep straight. well, memories that weren't even his. he looked down at his hands, his fingers clenching tighter against the edge of the rooftop. he felt exposed, naked in a way that he didn’t like.

"yeah," he finally whispered. "it was.”

you gripped at the floor where your hands were resting and ekko could see the hesitation in your face as you asked the question. 

“who are you then?”

he paused, debating on what to say. he could lie, make up some convoluted story. but looking at you, seeing the curiosity in your eyes, he knew it would be a pointless lie. so, he took a deep breath, and for the first time, he confessed the truth.

"i'm ekko. just not the one you know. i'm from a different timeline. a different zaun.”

your eyes widened as realisation sunk in. “parallel realities. they're…real.”

he nodded, the reality of it still sinking in for him. parallel realities, alternate timelines. he'd known they existed in theory, but to experience it... it was something else.

“yeah," he said quietly. "a little hard to believe, right?”

for the first since you sat down and fixed your eyes down, you lifted your eyes to look at him, a soft smile gracing your face. “not really. i'm looking at it.”

he chuckled at that, a small laugh of disbelief. here you were, accepting the impossible so easily, while he was still struggling to wrap his mind around it.

he looked at you, that soft smile on your face, and his heart ached. everything about this world was so perfect, so right. and here he was, an intruder from another timeline.

“you know me in your world then?,” you asked, fiddling with your fingers.

he nodded, his eyes looking out at the city below again. he imagined his own zaun, so different from this one. the streets were darker, the sky a permanent ashen grey, and you...

he swallowed, forcing down the sudden wave of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

“yeah. i do. you and i… we’re…” he trailed off, unsure how to explain the tangled mess of your relationship in his timeline.

“are we not on good terms?”

he winced at that, the question making his stomach churn with guilt. In his timeline, things were complicated. 'good', was a generous way to describe it.

he took a moment to find the right words, not wanting to hurt you any more than he already had.

“it's... complicated. things between us... they’re messed up in my zaun. we’re on the worst of terms,” he mumbled. “we... we’ve spent years apart. we haven’t seen each other for a long time. and when we do, it’s always a fight.”

“oh,” you whispered, tone inexplicably sad.

his heart twisted, seeing the sadness in your expression. it hurt, knowing that he had caused it, even if indirectly.

he reached out, his hand hovering over yours. he wanted to touch you, to offer comfort, but he stopped himself at the last second. he didn’t deserve to give you comfort.

you noticed his hesitance and gently huffed as you took his hand in yours.  he sucked in a breath as you took his hands, the simple act sending a shockwave through his body.

your hands felt warm, small, and familiar against his. he closed his eyes, taking a moment to just feel you, to remember what it was like to touch you like this. he missed it so damn much.

he held your hands tightly, his fingers wrapping around yours. he didn’t want to let go.

you gripped his hand as you posed the question. “do you…like the me of that world?”

he chuckled at that, the question making his chest ache.

did he like you? like was such an inadequate word to describe what he felt. he loved you. he always had. he’d been in love with you since they were kids. even in his timeline, where things were so messed up. even there, he still loved you desperately.

“i do,” he admitted quietly. “i like you so much, it hurts."

ekko watched you bit your lip and stared down at the city sadly as you asked a question you didn't really want the answer to. 

“do i….like you back?”

the question felt like a punch to the gut. 

he knew the response he should give, the truth behind the relationship between him and you in his timeline. it was a mess. a complicated, painful mess of feelings. of love, hate, and betrayal. of trust broken and hearts shattered. 

he swallowed, his hands clenching tighter around yours. the answer was on the tip of his tongue, and he hated himself for saying it.

“no,” he whispered. “you don’t.”

the sadness in your expression, the way your eyes closed to hide the hurt, it was like a knife to his chest. he wanted nothing more than to take it back, to tell you everything was fine, that you loved him too. but he couldn’t. it was the truth, and lying wouldn’t change that. 

he looked away, his eyes back on the city lights, the brightness suddenly blurring in his vision. damn it, he should have never come here.

“ekko.”

hearing you say his name, in that soft, gentle voice, made something in him crack. he looked back at you, his eyes meeting yours. 

“yeah?” he asked, his voice quiet and strained.

you turned your gaze from the night life to his eyes as you hesitantly asked, “do you…want to kiss me?”

the question took him by surprise, jolting through him like an electric shock. he had wanted to kiss you, yes. for years, he’d desired to kiss you, to touch you, to have you closer. he’d dreamt of it, yearned for it, ached for it.

the word was out before he could stop himself.

“yes.”

so you slowly moved forward and gently placed your lips against his. time seemed to slow, the world around you fading into a muffled hum. his lips brushed against yours, featherlight at first, testing, savoring. the contact sent a shiver down your spine, warmth spreading from where you touched and radiating outward.

the kiss deepened naturally, an unhurried exploration of emotions he'd kept bottled for too long. his hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer while your fingers tangled in his locks. it was soft yet searing, a meeting of hearts that spoke in a language words could never capture.

when you finally parted, you rested your forehead against yours, breaths mingling, staring at his eyes, so rich of love and guilt. “you won't be staying, will you?”

the question broke through the fog in his mind, bringing him back to reality. the kiss had been perfect, but it was a lie, a false hope. he knew he couldn’t stay. he wasn’t supposed to be here. 

he swallowed, his eyes glued to the ground, unable to meet your gaze.

“no,” he whispered. “i won’t be staying. my zaun...it needs me.”

you smile sadly as you whispered, “i hope…the me there changes her mind.”

at that, he chuckled bitterly. you, changing your mind? the thought was laughable. he loved you, but even he knew that ship had sailed. 

but seeing the sorrow in your expression, the hope in your eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you. he couldn’t snuff out that hope, that last shred of optimism you still had.

“yeah,” he said, forcing a smile. “i hope she does too.”

you slowly pulled your hand up to caress his face, fingers moving across the soft skin of his flesh. the tenderness of your touch, the way your hand felt against his cheek, it sent a shiver through him. he closed his eyes, letting himself lean into your hand, to relish that feeling for as long as he could. It soothed the ache in his heart, that constant, aching longing for you.

“you deserve happiness ekko.”

he placed his hand over yours, gently holding it to his face. “so do you, you deserve the world,” he mumbled.

you smiled sorrowfully as you watched him. “you might not be the ekko of this world, but you... you still have the same stupid hair. same stupid eyes. same...stupid smile. same stupid heart. you're still my ekko. i hope you can you can get your happy ending there.”

his breath caught at your words. it was too much. it was everything he'd been aching for, everything he wanted to hear.

he opened his eyes, looking at you, his heart clenching. a part of him wanted to tell you everything. to spill the truth of what the two of you had become in his timeline. but he couldn’t. he couldn’t do that to you, not when you were looking at him like that.

he played with your hands, traced hearts on your palm.

“i'll try,” he said softly.

you smiled at him, and he mirrored your smile, his heart aching. he didn’t want this moment to end. he wanted to just stay here, with you, like this.

but the inevitable was closing in. the longer he stayed, the harder it would be to leave. he needed to get back to his timeline before things got worse.

he took a deep breath, steeling his resolve. “i have to go now, don’t i?” he whispered.

ekko watched as tears welled up in your eyes as you chuckled a sad laugh. “i think so.”

seeing the tears in your eyes, hearing the acceptance in your voice, it took all his self-control not to pull you closer, to hold you to him. but he forced himself to stay still, even as every part of him wanted to keep you within arm's reach.

he closed his eyes, letting out a shaky sigh. "yeah," he whispered. "i think so too.”

you suddenly pull him into a hug, wrapping your arms around him, and he couldn’t hold back anymore. he closed his eyes, returning the embrace, hugging you tightly against him. 

he buried his face against your hair, taking a deep breath, trying to commit this moment to memory. he’d never get to hold you like this again.

you place a soft kiss on his cheek. “i won't ever forget you.”

he swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. “i won’t forget you either. i couldn’t even if i wanted to.”

every instinct in him was screaming to keep holding you, to not let go, but he forced himself to release his hold. he looked at you one last time, taking in your sad smile, before steeling himself and stepping back.

he took another deep breath, his heart heavy with the weight of all the things left unsaid. “goodbye.”

“goodbye ekko. smile some more, hm?"

ekko felt a mix of emotions well up within him. he wanted to say so much, to tell you not to hope for his happiness, that he wouldn't find it. but the words stuck in his throat.

he managed a strained smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. “yeah. take care of yourself,” he said quietly.

he took one last look at you, the image of you standing there, sad but beautiful, seared into his mind.

with that, he turned and walked away, his footsteps growing fainter as he left you there, alone on the rooftop.

you turned your gaze towards the night life of the undercity and huffed a sad sigh as you turned your gazed up at the moon. 

ekko had decided to stop in his tracks and hide behind a wall so he could watch you one last time. the moon illuminated your features beautifully, and although the smile on your face was one full of melancholy, ekko could only find it in himself to admire your beauty and mirrored a similar smile of his own.

ekko watched you. he always had. that's all he can do. 

—--- epilogue 

when ekko returned to his timeline, it felt like he'd stepped into a world of shadows, a dark and menacing realm. the familiar alleys, the broken streets, it all looked so different, so wrong.

he trudged his way back to the firelights headquarters, his mind still focused on the you he left behind in the other timeline. the feeling of holding you, having you so close, it was like a fresh wound, reopening the aching loneliness within him.

he stood for a moment, to stare at the moon, to remember the image of you staring at the sky mere moments ago when he caught a flash of something from the corner of his eyes. ekko watched you fall to your death.

ekko watched you. he always had. that's all he can do.

[lovedrruunk]

'Forget her

In which you get played by your situationship. Jinx thinks you deserve better anyway. (drabble!!!)

You sat on the couch in Jinx’s hideout staring blankly at the sky, your fingers tracing over the ripped leather of the furniture. The bitter pit in your stomach hadn’t left since you heard it. Those carefully chosen words that meant everything and nothing at the same time, but you weren’t even sure why you were surprised. It wasn’t like you hadn’t known deep down that things wouldn’t work out with her.

But it still stung.

The situation had been complicated from the start. No labels, no promises, just two people who occasionally crossed the line into something that felt almost like more. You thought it was heading somewhere, but apparently she didn’t. And today, with a few short sentences, she made that clear.

“I’m not looking for anything serious.”

Classic.

You clenched your jaw, sinking back into the cushions. The room felt heavy and you hated that you’d let yourself get invested. You weren’t even sure why you had told Jinx you’d come over. You didn’t want to be a downer, but the idea of sitting alone with your thoughts had been worse. So now you were just sitting here, feeling like a total idiot for ever thinking she was serious about you.

“Ya know, if you keep sulking like that I might start thinking you forgot I exist,” Jinx’s voice cut through your mental spiral, drawing your eyes towards her. She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed looking at you with a raised brow. “Not a good look for you by the way.”

You snorted, rubbing a hand over your face. “Yeah, well, it’s been a day.”

Jinx pushed off the door, walking over to flop down next to you on the couch. “A ‘day,’ huh?" One look at your face and she already knew. "Lemme guess. Her?”

You hesitated, not really wanting to dive into the whole mess, but the look she gave you made it clear she wasn’t about to let this go, she never does. Wasn't necessarily a bad thing you figured, you liked that about her. “Yeah… her. She finally dropped the ‘let’s keep things casual’ bomb. As if I didn’t already know that’s where it was going.”

Jinx let out a long whistle, pretending to look thoughtful. “Wow, shocking. Who could’ve ever seen that coming? Definitely not me, noooo,” she said with obvious sarcasm.

You shot her a look. “I know, okay? I knew it wasn’t serious, I just… I don’t know, I guess I hoped maybe it’d turn into something more.” The bitterness in your voice was hard to hide, even if you were trying to downplay how much it bothered you.

Jinx didn’t say anything right away, but you could feel her watching you, her usual smirk faltering a bit. “Look, I’m not saying I hate the girl—”

You raised an eyebrow. “You definitely hate her.”

“—I’m not saying I hate her,” she repeated, this time with a little more emphasis. “But, y’know, she’s kind of… what’s the word?" She tapped her chin pretending to be in thought. "Trash.”

“Jinx.”

“What? I said I don’t hate her!” She threw up her hands, giving you an exaggerated innocent look before settling back against the couch, her tone becoming more serious. “But... seriously. You deserve better. You know that, right?”

You huffed, sinking further into the cushions. “Yeah, well, better isn’t exactly lining up around the block.”

Jinx’s brows furrowed, her lips twisting in that way she did when she was trying to keep something secret. “If it were me…” she started, then hesitated, glancing away like she was debating whether or not to continue.

You sat up a little, noticing the shift in her tone.

She cleared her throat, her voice a little quieter. “I’m just saying… If it were me, I wouldn’t make you guess all the time. You wouldn’t have to wonder where we stood, y’know? ‘Cause I’d make it pretty darn obvious.” She said with a light chuckle, her eyes glued to the floor.

You blinked, caught off guard by the shift in Jinx's tone. Her usual bravado had faded, leaving something raw in its place. You sat up a little straighter, turning to face her. “What are you saying?”

Her eyes flicked up to meet yours, and there was no teasing in them now. Just something deep, something real. She hesitated for a moment, like she was debating whether to push it further. And then she did.

“I’m saying…” She leaned in slowly, her voice barely a whisper “...I wouldn’t waste your time.”

You froze as she closed the distance between you, her hand brushing the back of your neck. For a second, neither of you moved. Her thumb grazed the skin just below your ear sending a shiver down your spine.

And then, before you could even process it, her lips were on yours.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, like she was waiting for you to pull away. When you didn’t, she deepened it, her fingers threading through your hair, pulling you closer. Her lips were warm, and the way she kissed you made it clear, this wasn’t some spur-of-the-moment thing. She had thought about this. Wanted this.

After the initial shock you kissed her back, your hands finding their way to her shoulders, pulling her closer. The frustration and hurt that had been swirling in your chest moments ago melted away, replaced by a new kind of warmth.

Finally pulling away you stared at her breathless, heart still racing trying to process what just happened.

She pulled back slightly, still grinning but this time it was softer, less playful. “What?” she asked, her voice lighter, teasing. “Not what you expected?”

You let out a small laugh, looking away feeling your face get hot. “Not exactly.”

“Well, I like surprising you.” She leaned in again, her lips ghosting over yours, but this time, she didn’t kiss you, just hovered close enough that you could feel her smirk widen. “So, you wanna sit here and keep sulking?...

Or do you wanna graffiti the bitch’s house?”

. . .

;p !!! this was super fast paced and unrealistic but its just practice! plus my first one shot in months! and tbf in what realistic world would jinx be in a relationship anyway lol... hope u liked!

[aventurineswife]

Okay I just had an adorable idea, what if Blade and child!reader had a relationship like Jinx and Isha, specifically a scenario similar to when Jinx broke Isha out of prison because that warmed my heart too much.

Lost Souls, Running Together

Summary: Captured and imprisoned by a rival faction, Blade finds himself shackled and weaponless, awaiting an uncertain fate. But he isn't alone. You, a child who had somehow carved a place in his broken world, refuse to leave him behind. With determination and reckless bravery, you break into the prison to rescue him, proving that even in his shattered existence, he isn’t beyond saving. As the two of you fight your way to freedom, Blade is faced with an unfamiliar feeling—something dangerously close to hope.

Tags: Blade x Reader, Found Family, Child!Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Protective, Soft Blade (but in his own way), Angst with a Happy Ending, Unspoken Bonds.

Warnings: Mentions of Violence, Blood (mild descriptions), Injury (minor), Imprisonment, Emotional Turmoil.

A/N: so I haven't reached that part of the series... 🧍‍♀️ Also I changed this a bit!

It was a dimly lit prison, cold and unforgiving. The metallic scent of damp walls mingled with the stale air. Blade had been following his usual path of destruction, a force that left behind little more than destruction and despair. He was an embodiment of pain, resentment, and broken promises. Yet, there was one thing that complicated the infinite void of his existence—a child.

You, a lost soul like him, had found Blade in the ruins of a once-thriving village, long after the scars of his past had set in. Something about you intrigued him, something innocent amidst the ruins of his fractured mind. Over time, you had grown to depend on him. You would often watch as Blade trained, your wide eyes following every strike, every movement of his broken sword, your heart filled with a strange admiration for the tortured man.

It was in a moment of weakness, when his mind was clouded with thoughts of destruction and vengeance, that you had reached out to him, offering a fragile warmth. He hadn’t known what to do with it at first. His existence had been one of isolation—only bitterness and rage to keep him company. But you, with your bright eyes and unwavering faith, began to change that. It had taken time, but Blade had come to rely on you more than he ever anticipated.

Now, in a high-security prison beneath the endless abyss, Blade’s world had turned upside down.

He had been captured by a rival faction, a brief lapse in his attention causing his downfall. He stood now in a cold cell, shackled and surrounded by guards, his broken sword confiscated. His mind buzzed with frustration, his red eyes burning with anger.

But the thought of you was the only thing that kept him tethered to some semblance of control.

You had learned of his capture quickly, far quicker than Blade had anticipated. Despite your young age, you were no stranger to danger, and you had taken matters into your own hands.

The small, sturdy figure of you crept through the shadows of the prison's hallways, your eyes glinting with determination. You had no weapon, but there was a fire inside you, one that burned as brightly as Blade’s own destructive fury. You had to free him. There was no other option.

“Hey, you!” one of the guards shouted, stepping forward as you passed by. But before he could even raise a hand, you darted out of his line of sight, your movements swift and quiet like the wind. The prison was vast, but you knew the layout by heart. Blade had once taken the time to teach you everything, not as a master would teach an apprentice, but as if you were a partner—a partner in everything.

You finally arrived at his cell, the heavy iron door blocking your way. You didn’t hesitate. With nimble hands, you began to tamper with the lock. It was a delicate task, but you were determined. The moment the lock clicked open, you threw the door wide open.

Blade’s eyes met yours, still burning with that quiet fury, but they softened upon seeing you. There was a brief flash of surprise, and then a fleeting look of relief.

“You…” he rasped, voice rough from the long hours in captivity. His gaze flicked to the guards approaching in the distance. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to get you out,” you replied, your voice firm, though your small body shook slightly from the adrenaline. You held out your hand to him, a quiet promise in the gesture.

Blade’s gaze softened further, though he said nothing. The weight of everything he had endured—the endless battles, the endless chase after vengeance—seemed to melt away in that single moment. For the first time in a long while, he could see something other than pain and bloodshed. He could see… you.

Without a word, he grasped your hand, his grip surprisingly gentle, despite the unrelenting force he was known for. You tugged him forward, leading him toward the exit.

The guards, realizing too late what had transpired, began rushing toward you. Blade’s mind was sharp, his body still quick despite the chains on his wrists. He moved swiftly, dispatching the guards without so much as breaking a sweat. His sword, now in his grasp once again, cut through the air with lethal grace.

But despite the chaos surrounding you, Blade’s focus remained on you. You had risked everything for him, and in return, he felt something deep within him—something akin to a quiet peace. For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t entirely alone.

With your help, Blade tore through the prison’s defenses, finally reaching the exit. The cold wind greeted them as they emerged into the open night sky.

You were panting, but you grinned up at him, unafraid of the darkness. Blade couldn’t help but look down at you with something resembling affection, though it was a complicated, twisted thing.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. His voice was low, but there was a warmth behind it—something he hadn’t felt in years.

You didn’t respond with words. Instead, you simply nodded, knowing that words would never be enough to describe the bond you shared. It was unspoken, raw, and real—just like everything else between you and Blade.

As the two of you disappeared into the night, you knew one thing for certain: no matter what the future held, Blade wouldn’t face it alone. You would be there with him, every step of the way, just as you had always been.

And that was all that mattered.

[cup1drul3z]

★ — I'll survive, i always do | ch 1

2ᴋ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ | ᴀʀᴄᴀɴᴇ ʏᴇʟʟᴏᴡᴊᴀᴄᴋᴇᴛꜱ ᴀᴜ

CW : Plane crash, love triangle, pregnancy, wilderness, blood mentioned, fire mentioned

A/N: Okay i was supposed to wait for the poll to end but i was so exicted

The soft voice of a woman echoed overhead: “Flight 516 to France, now boarding at Gate B.”

You glanced over at your teacher, Mr. Talis, just in time to see him stand up and start ushering your classmates toward the gate. Your stomach twisted.

You picked at your thumb, chewing the skin raw.

Planes had always scared you. The noise, the pressure, the thought of being trapped so high off the ground—it made your skin crawl. You’d sworn you’d never get on one. But refusing wasn’t an option this time. This trip was half your grade.

“Coming?” Violet asked, pausing beside your seat with her usual easy smile.

Her younger sister, Jinx, stood beside her, rocking back and forth on her heels. “I still can’t believe Sevika’s going. She never talks to anyone—I didn’t even know she liked French.”

Violet shot her a look and nudged her arm. “Don’t be rude.”

You stood, grabbing your crossbody bag and trying to hide the way your fingers trembled. The three of you walked toward the gate together.

“We’re still sharing a room, right?” Violet asked as you got closer to boarding.

“Yeah. Sucks Mr. Talis wouldn’t let us sit together on the plane,” you sighed.

Violet grinned and nodded toward her sister. “I have to keep this one from causing as much chaos as humanly possible.”

Jinx rolled her eyes dramatically. “I’m literally a delight.”

You laughed, and the sound settled something in your chest—briefly.

“I’ll find you after landing,” you told them, then stepped onto the plane.

Your breath caught.

“Holy shit…” you muttered.

It was beautiful inside. Spacious, clean, luxurious. Caitlyn’s parents had pulled strings to get the school a private flight, and it showed.

You looked down at your ticket, walking slowly down the aisle—then stopped short.

Sevika was already sitting in the seat beside yours.

She was leaned back with a magazine in hand, the title written in French. You hadn’t even known she was on this trip until this morning. She was one of those people who existed on the edges—always quiet, always alone, always unreadable.

You bit your bottom lip and slid into your seat beside her, trying not to make it awkward. She didn’t look up.

Outside, the runway stretched endlessly into sky.

The plane began to taxi, slow at first, then faster. Your breath caught again, and you turned toward the window, heart racing as you picked harder at your thumb.

You weren’t ready for this.

The seatbelt light blinked off with a ding overhead.

You’d made it through takeoff.

Barely.

Your legs were stiff, your nails dug into your palms, and your stomach hadn’t quite decided if it wanted to settle or revolt. But the sky outside was clear now, clouds like cotton drifting past the window in slow motion. The hum of the plane had become background noise—constant, almost soothing.

You exhaled. Forced your shoulders to relax.

Sevika still hadn’t said a word.

She flipped another page in her magazine, eyes steady, body relaxed like she belonged in the air. Like nothing could touch her.

You shifted slightly in your seat, glancing at her without trying to make it obvious. “You... like France?”

Her eyes lifted from the page just enough to meet yours. Her brow raised like the question caught her off guard.

“Hm.” A pause. “Suppose I like the idea of it.”

You blinked. That was more than you expected.

“What idea?”

She shrugged, finally setting the magazine down in her lap. “Different pace. Different people. No one expecting anything from you.”

You let out a quiet breath. “That sounds... kind of nice, actually.”

There was a small silence. Not uncomfortable—just thoughtful.

“Didn’t think you were the nervous type,” she said then, nodding toward the way your fingers were still picking at your thumb.

Your face warmed. “Planes freak me out.”

She tilted her head. “Still got on one.”

“Didn’t really have a choice. This trip’s half my grade.”

Sevika gave a soft, dry laugh. “So they’re bribing you with credits.”

“Basically.”

She leaned back again, arms folding carefully over her chest. “Hell of a way to get over your fear.”

You glanced at her, surprised by the edge of amusement in her voice.

“Yeah, well,” you mumbled, “if I die, at least I’ll die cultured.”

That made her smirk. Just a little.

It was the first time you’d seen her smile.

Not wide, not soft—but real.

And for a moment, you forgot about the pressure in your ears, the ache in your stomach, and the sheer drop below your feet.

For a moment, Sevika made you feel like you weren’t completely alone up here.

Yes. Let’s go there.

The captain’s voice crackled over the intercom.

“Folks, we’re expecting a bit of turbulence ahead. Shouldn’t last long—please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts.”

You stiffened immediately.

Your tray clicked shut with a shaky hand, your seatbelt already tugged tight around your waist. You looked out the window again—but the clouds looked the same. Harmless. White and fluffy like they didn’t know what was coming.

“Deep breaths,” Sevika muttered beside you.

You glanced at her. She was watching you now, more carefully than before. Her voice was low, like it wasn’t meant for anyone else to hear.

“They say turbulence is just a bump in the road. Air pockets. Nothing serious.”

You nodded, forcing yourself to believe her.

But the first jolt made your heart leap into your throat.

The plane dipped. Not far—but enough. Enough to make the overhead bins rattle and someone gasp behind you.

Then another jolt. This one sharper.

“Whoa—” Jinx’s voice cut out behind you. Something thudded. A tray maybe.

Your hand grabbed for the armrest.

Sevika’s hand was already there. Big, steady, rough. You didn’t mean to— But your fingers clutched hers.

She didn’t pull away.

The plane lurched sideways. Lights flickered overhead. A screech of metal, fast and high.

Your breathing sped up. Panic scratched at your throat.

Then everything went silent for a split second— Right before the drop.

A violent, bone-rattling drop. Screams erupted across the cabin. Someone was crying. Bags flew out of open bins. Your body was weightless, your stomach slamming against your ribs.

Then came the bang— A deafening crack as something tore off. The lights exploded. Red blinked over everything. Oxygen masks fell.

You couldn’t scream. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t think.

The only thing grounding you was her grip—tight, anchoring, unyielding.

You turned your head just enough to see Sevika—jaw clenched, eyes hard, holding your hand like it meant something.

And then—

impact.

Metal screamed. Glass shattered. Trees—

Then nothing.

Your ears were ringing.

Smoke curled in your lungs like claws. The wreckage groaned all around you—metal straining under the weight of its own destruction. Everything was tilted, broken, glowing orange from small fires that licked at the seats.

You gasped for air. Pain shot through your ribs.

“Violet,” you croaked.

You scrambled down the twisted aisle, shoving past a seat that had come loose. Blood stained your hands, though you didn’t know whose. Then—there.

“Violet!” She was still strapped in, head lolled to the side, barely conscious. Her leg was stuck, pinned under a part of the wall that had caved in.

“No, no, no,” you whispered, kneeling beside her.

“Come on, come on, wake up—” You fumbled with the buckle, shaking fingers struggling to undo it. Your lungs burned. The smoke was thicker now. Fire crackled somewhere behind you. Close.

Her eyes fluttered open. “Hey… you’re okay…” she rasped.

“I’m not leaving you,” you said. You meant it. Even if the heat was blistering, even if your hands were slick with blood and sweat.

You pulled at the twisted metal. Kicked it. Screamed in frustration. It wouldn’t budge.

Then—arms around your waist.

You shouted, fought, struggled. “No! I’m not leaving her!”

But Sevika’s voice came hard and desperate. “She’s gone if you don’t move—you’re both gone!”

She hauled you back, out of the seat, dragging you as the fire surged.

You screamed Violet’s name until your throat broke open.

Then—air. Cold, biting air. The forest. The dark.

You collapsed just beyond the wreckage, coughing violently, lungs clawing for oxygen. The trees blurred in your eyes.

Then you heard it—

“Hey!” “Over here!”

You blinked. Shapes moved toward you. Familiar voices.

Jinx, wide-eyed and shaking. Mel with a torn blazer and blood on her temple. Caitlyn dragging Viktor, who was limping badly but alive.

You barely registered what anyone was saying. Your hands trembled as you stared back at the twisted metal where Violet had been.

She was still in there.

And you’d left her.

“You didn’t leave her,” Sevika said later, quiet but firm, sitting next to you by the fire. You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. You just stared at the flames.

But then—

A voice.

Raspy. Furious.

“You did.”

You looked up—your heart stopping.

Violet.

Covered in soot and ash. A bloodied gash over her eyebrow. Limping slightly but alive. Standing just beyond the firelight.

Your stomach dropped.

Her eyes were locked on Sevika. “You dragged her away from me.”

“She would’ve died,” Sevika said, standing slowly. “You both would’ve.”

“You don’t know that,” Violet spat. “You didn’t even try.”

Her voice cracked. Her fists were trembling.

You wanted to go to her, to say something—but what could you say?

Violet’s eyes flicked to you.

Then she turned and walked away into the woods, shoulders stiff with grief and fury.

The air between you and Sevika was heavy.

And it was only the first night.

The woods were quiet now, except for the occasional crackle of dying flames and the groans of twisted metal cooling under the night sky.

You sat close to the fire, knees pulled to your chest. Sevika stood a few feet away, watching the tree line. You hadn’t spoken since Violet walked off.

Then— A scream. Sharp. Desperate. Human.

Your head snapped up.

“Did you hear that?” Caitlyn asked, already moving.

“Mr. Talis,” you said, heart dropping. “Oh my god—”

Everyone ran.

You pushed through broken branches and smoke-stung air, following the sound. It was coming from the far side of the wreckage, near a wing that had been torn open and was half buried in dirt.

There. Underneath it—

“Mr. Talis!” you shouted.

He was pinned—his leg crushed beneath a jagged piece of the fuselage. Blood soaked through his pants, pooling in the dirt. His face was pale, slick with sweat, eyes wide with pain and fear.

“Help me!” he cried. “Help me, please—”

Mel rushed to his side, trying to assess the damage, but her face twisted. “It’s… it’s not good.”

“We can’t lift it,” Viktor said, his voice thin.

You crouched beside him, taking Mr. Talis’s hand. “We’re here. We’ve got you. Just hold on.”

He nodded, but he was already slipping—shivering violently, breathing shallow.

Sevika stood silently nearby. Her jaw was locked.

“We’re gonna need to—” Caitlyn started, then stopped herself.

The silence said it all.

“We have to take the leg,” Viktor said, swallowing. “There’s no circulation. He’ll die.”

You froze. “We can’t—we don’t—how would we even…?”

Jinx stepped forward, already pulling a long piece of metal from the wreckage.

“We cut it,” she said simply.

Everyone turned.

“Are you serious?” Mel asked, eyes wide.

“He’ll die either way,” Jinx muttered, crouching beside him. “Might as well give him a chance.”

“No anesthesia,” Caitlyn said. “It’ll hurt like hell—he’ll go into shock—”

“We don’t have time,” Jinx snapped.

You looked at Mr. Talis. His lips were moving, barely whispering. “Do it. Just—do it.”

Jinx gave you a quick glance. “Hold him.”

You didn’t want to. Everything inside you screamed not to—but you knelt behind him, bracing his shoulders as Viktor knelt at his head, murmuring something soft, trying to keep him grounded.

Jinx lined the metal up just above the crushed part of the leg. Her face was blank. Empty.

Then she brought it down.

Mr. Talis screamed. You flinched but didn’t let go.

Again. Again.

Blood sprayed your hands. The sound was unbearable. The metal hitting bone—sickening.

Then—one final strike, and it was done.

Jinx sat back, covered in blood, chest heaving, her hands shaking slightly.

But her eyes were clear.

“Someone get something to cauterize it,” she said flatly.

No one argued.

[joicecubes]

my take on this scene (arcane s2 act 2 spoilers. obviously)

if you’re active within the arcane fandom space recently i’m sure you’ve at least stumbled across the discourse where someone interpreted this exchange to be vi “realizing jinx is a better older sister” or something. personally i think it’s a lot less about comparison and a lot more about guilt.

vi has felt responsible for jinx her entire life. she was her protector when they were kids. she abandoned her after vander, milo, and claggor’s deaths leading silco to take her in. jinx went on to work for him. she killed caitlyn’s mother in the council meeting explosion. everything jinx has done and every horrible thing she’s experienced has been a direct result (at least in vi’s mind) of her own failures as an older sibling. and despite her guilt, eventually she forced herself to accept that powder didn’t exist anymore. even more painful, that since she’s the one who caused jinx to be this way, she also has to take responsibility and stand by caitlyn’s side in ensuring jinx won’t hurt anyone else.

but she fails. jinx runs free, vi wallows in her breakup sorrows, and the next time they see each other, jinx… has changed. and she has that same kid with her from their fight. and she’s come to vi willingly for her help.

i think vi is thinking a lot of things when she sees jinx comforting isha. surprise, firstly, to see this side of jinx she hasn’t seen since they were kids. the jinx she knows is a shell of her former self, changed beyond belief, and yet vi watches as jinx softens and treats isha with so much care. helps her dust herself off, says something vi might’ve said to powder what feels like a lifetime ago. “still got all your insides?”

the truth of it is, it’s not jinx being a better older sister than vi was. it’s jinx emulating what vi once was to her, and i think vi catches onto that. she’s watching as an outsider now, jinx and isha paralleling what her and powder’s relationship used to be like and i think it would make sense if the strongest thing she’s feeling right now is longing. how devastating it is that their relationship feels so irreparable, how deeply she wishes she hadn’t hurt powder so long ago.

but there’s also hope in her asking “why’d you come get me? you don’t actually need my help.” sure, she’s still bitter. how could she not be, after everything that’s happened between them? but she recognizes that jinx doesn’t need her anymore, it becomes especially clear seeing jinx taking care of someone else like vi used to take care of her. so why seek her out? why drag her all the way out here? there’s a deep, wounded, guilty part of her that’s desperate for reconciliation, so she reaches for it. especially now that she has no one else.

they make me so sad :(

[k3nz1ekorn]

Jayvik actor au- "This isn't my bedroom?"

Shooting continues at the lot, production is finally ramping up and our beloved actors Vlad and Joel get to talk a bit more. Part 2 chronologically in the au.

Character cheat sheet: Vi-Viola, Cait-Cathrin, Mel-Miah, Savannah- Sevika, Sky- Skyler, Powder/Jinx-Piper, Ekko-Elijah

Disclaimer: I know nothing about professional acting or studios, lot setup, etc. I will not be looking things up while writing this so if you notice something is blatantly wrong leave a comment about it! This is purely self indulgent and fics will probably be posted out of chronological order in the timeline. (If I write enough I’ll make a timeline list of them tho)

It was obvious to anyone with eyes that Vlad had a busy schedule. Between shooting for arcane and his other projects he was on the production lot practically 24/7 this week. It was mostly other roles he’d booked that he was shooting this week since basically all of his scenes in Arcane involved Joel, who was turning out to be quite the busy man. They’d barely spoken since their first official meeting and none of it had even been to run lines! He was a bit worried about that specifically. They were both good actors, but that on screen chemistry didn’t always come naturally. It was always good to practice, he thought as he absently massaged a knot in his thigh. It was only in these early hours that he really had time to himself, time to just exist as he is, to not think about his lines or how to say them, and especially not to think about any of his co-stars. It wasn’t that he hated them, quite the opposite actually. The ones he’d met so far he gets along with very well, even joining them for lunch when his schedule allows it. They’re people he could actually see himself enjoying the company of outside of work. He makes a mental note to invite them all out for drinks this weekend, the ones that were going to be in town for it that is. The problem with his co-stars was actually a singular person, one with striking golden eyes and a face Vlad is sure was sculpted by the gods themselves with the explicit intent to taunt him. 

The brunette squeezed his eyes shut and brought his mug up off the table to take a long sip of his coffee, to distract his wandering mind. He wasn’t going to think about Joel right now. This was his me time, not fantasizing about his coworker time. He had found it too much of a hassle to make the drive back to his apartment the previous night and had opted to instead sleep in his trailer, meaning his clothing for the day were whatever he had supplied for himself when he packed the dressers before it was brought to the lot. A pair of black jeans  and a thick dark grey sweater seemed to be his best options that day, it didn’t matter too much anyways, he would be in and out of costume all day anyways, this outfit was just for his meal breaks. 

He was already showered and ready for the day, which he knew was going to be starting soon, it was already- Jesus 8AM? He had to get moving. He stood up as he chugged the rest of his half finished barely lukewarm coffee, rinsing the mug in the sink and moving to the table on the opposite side of his trailer to grab his script and water bottle before descending the steep ass ramp out of his trailer. Skyler should be here soon, he thought absently, should she not? It wasn’t like her to be late and call time was slowly approaching. He pulled his phone from his pocket as he let the door shut behind him, did she maybe text him and he just hadn’t seen it? 

Ah. He had a few missed texts it seemed.

Displayed brightly on his screen were three texts, the first from his aforementioned assistant, saying the line at their usual coffee shop had been longer than usual and she was running a bit late, delivered maybe 15 minutes ago. Second was from Viola, a picture he’d have to actually open the message to see and the words ‘did you get it yet?????????’ received about 3 minutes ago. He didn’t need to guess what she meant as yes, he had in fact gotten it. The third text is no doubt what she was referring to, and the one that had initially caught his attention. It was from an unknown number, a simple ‘this is joel we should meet to run lines over lunch,’ and he definitely wasn’t mentally scolding his clothing choice for the day. He didn’t have time to dwell on it though as he felt a hand on his shoulder and saw two coffees on a holder come into his line of vision.

“SO sorry for running late Vlad, the line was crazy, even mobile ordering ahead of time they were just slammed.” She sounded out of breath as she spoke to him, her other hand holding the coffee lowering a bit as the hand that had been on his shoulder moved to cover her chest. She looked as professional as ever in her black pantsuit and deep red button up. Her hair was up in a high puff today, a few pieces coming out to frame her face. She moved her free hand to grab her phone from her pocket to go over the itinerary she no doubt had open. “You have a few new faces for your scenes today, some old ones too I noticed! So we should probably get you there just a pinch ahead of time. Wanna head to the set now?” She finally looked up at him as she caught her breath. Vlad was already looking at her when he opened his mouth to speak. He hadn’t thought about a response yet. She’d given him plenty of time to refocus himself and yet here he was, still reeling over a text like some teenager. He raised his phone just a bit.

“Joel texted me.” The silence was deafening. Skylar blinked once. Then twice, before finally letting a smirk overtake her face.

“Oh did he? And why are you telling me this?” Truth be told he didn’t know. Most likely because he hadn’t had a coherent thought since she got there and he’d like to believe they are at least on friendly terms by now. 

“I should respond to it before we head over. It would be rude not to, no?” He turned back to his phone and unlocked it before clicking on the new number to respond, Skyler let out an amused laugh from beside him. He had to send something before he could overthink this, and fast. ‘Yes please omg’ seemed like too much, and a simple ‘Sure.’ was definitely too cold, he needed to be professional but enthusiastic about it. He settled on, ‘I’d actually been meaning to ask you the same, we will discuss further when I get to the set, yes?’ He quickly clicked out of their texts to stop himself from rereading it and opened the text from Viola instead. Texting back a quick ‘I did :3’ he looked over the photo she sent. The picture was quite cute to say the least. The camera was at a high angle, only showing her forehead and eyes at the bottom of the screen, the main focus of the photo being Cathrin and Joel a few feet away holding out their phones in front of one another. Was that a blush he saw? He quickly blinked the thought away and pocketed his phone before turning back to Skyler to let her know he was ready to go.

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Vlad had finished his second cup of coffee before they even stepped foot onto the set they’d be at for their first scene. He had to, after nearly spilling coffee on his Academy uniform earlier in the week he’d had to cut back on his on set coffee breaks. That’s actually why he was now drinking more water,.much to Skyler’s delight he may add. His cane gave gentle clicks as he moved into view of the set, a dark hallway and a door loomed in front of him, this was their scene breaking into the lab if he was not mistaken. The schedule had said all of their group scenes would be before lunch, which meant this one, the trial with the council, and the scene where they get to be hooked up to a bunch of wires. That one made him a bit uneasy if he was telling the truth, he never liked heights much, and having no experience with being hooked up like that he was unsure of how his leg would handle it. They had a fantastic team helping to make accommodations for him, but he’d had his fair share of bad experiences so it was natural to be cautious.

He was broken from his thoughts as he recognized a familiar face out of the corner of his eye. He adjusted himself to face the newcomer and gave a warm smile, “Miah! I was hoping we’d get a chance to chat before we were called to places. You look wonderful! That makeup was a great choice I must say.” His old friend only laughs in response, head tilting back in amusement before coming to embrace him in a small side hug. There was no lie, she was a vision really, in a beautiful all white dress with gold accents that perfectly matched the jewelry in her hair and makeup painting her face.

“Hey Vlad, can’t say I’ve seen the costume or makeup department make anyone look bad so far, yourself included. Did they make your moles bigger? And that vest, oh my god!” She circled him once, as if he didn’t already know how good he looked right now. “The lace up sides are a very nice touch, on both you and Mr. Torres over there.” She gestures somewhere behind him and he has to grip his cane a bit tighter to keep himself from shooting around to gawk at the new topic of their conversation. Instead he just gives a light chuckle and takes a breath to respond- “He’s on his way over.” She says glancing between him and who he can only imagine is the very man that had been capturing every other thought he’d had for the past week. His eyes crease at the corners every so slightly as he turns to look over a shoulder to greet the new addition to their conversation with a polite smile. 

“Joel, how good to see you again, have you met Miah yet? She’ll be playing Mel.” It would be rude to not introduce them, he thought, especially since they’d all be filming the next few scenes together. Joel gives him a glance and turns his attention towards Miah to extend a hand.

“Pleasure to meet you, you are Vladimir's friend?” A shiver definitely does not try to make its way down his spine upon hearing his full name, and gods does he hope he’s not blushing again. The handshake, he notes, is much slower and longer than the one he had received…he tries not to read into that. He looks up at the woman beside them as their hands part, she clasps hers together in front of herself and gives a polite nod.

“The pleasure’s all mine! I was very excited to hear I’d finally be getting a chance to work with you! And to work with Vlad again too, on the same project no less. We’ve been friends since filming that weird pumpkin themed horror movie a few years back. Have you two worked together before? Vlad didn’t mention it when we went over the cast list together.” She raised her eyebrow as she spoke, her eyes pointedly moving between the two of them, as if trying to hint at something almost. It was at that moment he realized Joel had stopped nearly directly behind him, just barely off to the side enough for them to see each other's faces actually. The cough that escapes him is definitely not nervous, just a tickle is what he tells himself as he brings his hand back down to readjust his cane. He reminds himself to ask Skyler where she’d had them put his chair.

“We haven’t. I met him filming a scene earlier in the week,” the taller man’s eyes move to Vlad again, “I’d like to have a word before we’re called to places. I’ll be in my chair.” He started to turn to leave, eyes moving back to Miah, “I look forward to working with you.” And with that he was walking away. He really didn’t like letting people respond did he? Two of their interactions now he’d ended by just walking away. With a small shake of the head he turns back to his friend, who is now trying to hide some very obvious amusement. She says her next words in a hushed tone, her wrist partially covering her mouth.

“Oh my god he’s so into you.” 

“He’s what now?”

Vlad’s jaw drops open and he gives the most incredulous look at the woman across from him. He turns away from her, only to look back at her completely aghast, “He barely looked at me when he was actively speaking to me just now. What about that indicates he’s into me? If anything I’d say he was checking you out!” He emphasizes his words with a flick of the wrist in her direction and tries to keep his voice hushed so nobody overhears their conversation. It is quite embarrassing to be having this conversation while at work actually, something he’d rather keep private.

“Are you kidding me? First of all,” she raises a finger up beside her head. Oh great, she’s making a list, “you didn’t see what his eyes were doing when your back was turned. Second,” another finger and a pointed tilt of the head, “he was staring me down. NOT the same as checking me out. Third,” hopefully the final finger in this conversation raises, “even if he had been we both know he’s nowhere near my type in men. Much too…stoic.” She finishes with a slight downward curl on her lips and a shake of the head before finally putting her hand down to cross her arms over each other. She glanced over his shoulder once more and her eyes just barely widened before she smirks, letting her eyes fall back to his once more. “You better get a move on with your conversation, your man keeps looking at us.” As she looks back again her eyes shift to a new area behind him and stop, her mouth forms a soft ‘o’ and a new look overtakes her and she seems to spot something else, something not Joel he decides. A hand is placed on his shoulder as she very quickly steps around him. Her next words come out quiet as he walks away. “Speaking of my type…I’ll see you on set.” He turns to watch her go with a mild curiosity, eyes following her direction of travel to the prosthetics tent where he could see a very muscular woman with a short ponytail getting pieces attached to her already augmented arm. He gives an impressed hum to himself and nods, he’d definitely have to invite them all out for drinks if for no other reason than to hear about how that develops.

He turns a bit more to face Joel’s direction and notices the other man’s eyes just barely darting down to the script he held in his hand. Vlad begins to make his way over when a very very small chuckle breaks through his lips, any previous tension about how the other perceived him already forgotten. Either he was trying to look nonchalant and failing miserably, or he could read upside down, seeing as that’s the way the script was being held. With a final few steps they’re next to each other and Vlad decides at the last minute he won’t mention the little continuity error in the other's facade.

“Eager to steal my attention eh? I already agreed to have lunch with you.” There’s a chuckle in the way he says it, something light. Joel lifts his eyes from the pages he’d definitely been pretending to read and gives a small hum. His unoccupied hand came up to smooth over his jaw and chin before he spoke, turning his head in his direction but still not fully looking at the man he’s addressing.

“We have a lot of scenes together. It seems our characters become…very good friends, by the end of the season. Over half of the dialogue I’ve read so far is either directed at or talking about your character in some way. We should discuss their dynamic.” With that he turns his head to rest it on his hand, and finally makes eye contact with the other. There’s no real identifiable emotion on his face aside from what seems to be sheer boredom. “I was told by my manager the production team wants them,” he raises his head to make air quotes with the hand he had been leaning on as he continues,”‘strictly platonic with no room for romantic interpretation,’ I assume you were told the same?” Vlad closes his eyes and he lets a little giggle slip at that, bringing the back of his hand up to cover it. He misses the way the other’s light up just a bit more at it.

“I was, yes, I assume you think we should take more creative liberties with it? You wouldn’t be talking to me about it otherwise, correct?” His hand comes back down to rest in his pocket, his posture relaxed, and he gives an inquisitive look. He really hopes he’s about to suggest what he thinks he is.

“Yes. Whether my character knows it or not, he will be in love with yours by the end of the season, and whether yours reciprocates or not is up to you.” He speaks with an air of certainty that leaves no room for discussion, luckily Vlad is already in agreement with him.

“He will. I’m very glad we had this chat actually, I had been planning on adding a level of…longing? I’m aware your character is romantically involved with Miah’s by the second half of the season, however I do love some good old fashioned, one sided, seemingly unrequited tension.” He lets his lip curl up into a mischievous grin as he looks down at the other. “It won’t be too obvious of course, just an underlying something or other to give a bit more depth to their relationship…though it does seem quite deep even without it. They become quite close, no? We should find some time outside of filming to talk, get into character a little as they say.” He’d already said he wanted to find ways to get to know him more, and he fully meant that shit. Whether the reasoning he was giving was the only reason was not important. Joel gives a hum of agreement and looks back down at his script, he’s silent for a second before- oh he’s blushing. He must have finally noticed his script was upside-down.

Credit where it’s due, Joel has a very good poker face aside from the light blush dusted across his cheeks. Vlad keeps his eyes on him as the other clears his throat and closes his script, looking back up as if nothing had even happened. The bell to signal a start rings and places are called, cutting the rest of their conversation short.

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“So far, so good.” He whispers, the glowstick just barely illuminating the lock enough for him to see it. Suddenly a bright light flows over them both, slightly startled he looks directly into it before bringing his hand up to try and deflect some of it. Blinking a few times to correct his eyes he hears a familiar voice in front of him.

“Hmm. Willing to risk exile for your endeavour. That’s quite the conviction.” It’s said with a hint of amusement. They’d filmed this scene a few times already and he felt his lack of lines right here kept making the whole exchange rather awkward. Time for a new strategy I guess.

“Councilor!” He hears from behind him. Quirking a brow up he barely listens to the continued flustered rambling, he feigns confusion and turns back to the keys still in the lock by his face.

“Wait a minute this isn’t my bedroom?” He mutters with mock embarrassment, “How could I have…” Their voices overlap for a second before silence engulfs them. He looks back up at the ‘Councilor’ and sees her fighting for her damn life to keep in the laugh that’s threatening to spill out. She’s come to expect this of him, he supposes, makes it easier to keep her composure. Joel seems as composed as ever, easily continuing on with his lines and it’s only a little disappointing he didn’t laugh. It’s almost too easy the way the rest of the scene flows from there, almost too easy the way Joel looks at Miah with such curiosity and wonder as she walks away with the security guard. Almost too easy how he doesn’t have to fake the way his lips pull up to his nose in distaste, or even the slightly annoyed huff he gives before turning back to the door, bending down to finish unlocking it as the director yells cut. They didn’t have to redo the scene again at least.

Authors note: This shit is 3.5k words and I edited without coffee. Thanks for the love so far! Glad to know yall are liking it. I'll definitely be branching out at some point to do more with Caitvi and Melvika. I'm not sorry about it.

[they-call-me-whiskey]

realise that if Ekko hadn’t followed Jayce, none of it would have happened. Vi and her gang wouldn’t have gone to his place, Powder wouldn’t have stolen the hextech, Vander would have survived, Silco wouldn’t have taken Powder, and Jinx wouldn’t exist.

[thearcaneblog]

Shattered Crowns and Broken Bonds

Here is chapter 1 of my fanfiction for Arcane since you all kept making me cry with your posts and edits. Well any way hope you enjoy. Let me know if you like it. Chapter 1: Echoes of the Blast Vi entered the dark space once occupied by her sister. Unfinished gadgets littered the workbench to her right. Drawings decorated every available surface. Sharp. Jagged. Fractured. Distinctly Jinx. Vi could feel her presence here, faint and distant, as if buried beneath the dust and discarded ideas. As she walked to a room of blankets built out from a dug out room. The sound of her steps echoed in the openness of the hide out until her toes kicked something causing it to make a piiiing. In the dim light Vi could not make it out. She bent down, fingers brushing the cold metal she had just kicked. As she brought it up to her face, her heart dropped as recognition triggered her brain. 

“Vi! It worked!” Powder exclaimed, turning the corner. So proud and confident that finally one of her inventions finally worked. She had done it. She had helped her friends and Vi!

Vi looked up from the broken Vander. Shock and realization finally entering her mind. Powder? How could she have done this? “You did this? Why? Why did you do this?” How could she have done this? Killed her friends, her father!

Powder’s eyes survey the scene. The building was destroyed. The massive figure behind Vi, is that? No it couldn’t be. But it is. It is Vander. Where is Milo? Where is Clagger? No they couldn’t be too. Powder’s stomach twists, fear and panic bubble to the surface. She didn’t want this to happen. Her invention finally worked! Panic set in. Was this her fault? “I only wanted to help. I only wanted to help!”

Grief and anger swirl within Vi, clouding her vision. “I told you to stay away.”

“Please, please!” Powder pleads, tears pouring down her face! But Vi doesn’t care.

She is angry. “I told you to stay away!” And Vi did something she had never done before. She hit Powder. With loathing. How could she? How dare Powder do this to her!

“Why did you leave me?”

“Because you’re a Jinx!” 

Vi doesn’t remember what was said after. She just remembers a screaming Powder. She remembers how she left. She was going to go back and get her. She couldn’t believe she hit her sister. Made her bleed! But then everything changed. Silco. Silco got Powder and Vi got a jail cell for seven years.

Vi gripped the monkey bomb so tightly that her fingers ached, the cold metal like an anchor to her own guilt. It dug into her palm, a reminder of everything she had lost and everything she hadn’t been able to prevent. Vi’s vision blurred. The walls felt like they were closing in around her, jagged, unfinished edges of graffiti and discarded gadgets blurring into her pain. The hollow silence of the room seemed to echo her own, like the weight of everything she had lost was pressing down on her chest. Tears began to fall freely from her eyes until she fell to her knees, chest heaving and tears choking her. The broken monkey bomb felt like a brand, marking her as the cause of it all. What if... What if she hadn’t hit Powder? What if she hadn’t left? Maybe Jinx would never have been born. Maybe everything would’ve turned out differently. The thought made Vi choke, her breath short and erratic. She couldn’t breathe through it. Couldn’t breathe through the thought that she’d broken her sister... that it was all her fault.

Rhythmic footsteps echoed as Vi sat there, crumpled on her knees holding one of the last remnants of her sister. Caitlyn slowly walks behind Vi. She doesn’t say anything, just watches a moment as Vi’s sobs and screams like knives in a heart continue. Vi needs this. Caitlyn sat beside her, neither pushing nor pulling, just existing as a steady presence. Her hand hovered just shy of Vi’s shoulder, the gesture unsaid but understood. Caitlyn didn’t need to speak. Vi had no words. They were two people trapped in grief, but somehow... together. Jinx and Caitlyn may have never gotten along, but she understood. Vi had lost so much in her young life. Her birth parents. Her adoptive father. Her childhood friends. Her sister. Her youth. Her adoptive father again. Her sister again. Vi had never truly had a moment to mourn all that she had lost. It was in this moment Cait finally understood just how strong Vi was as she grieved a lifetime of loss and suffering. Vi’s sobs echoed along the walls of this place. Caitlyn just sits. Just provides comfort with her presence. Minutes or hours later, neither Caitlyn or Vi could tell, Vi finally began to calm down as the sobs transitioned into sniffs and shaky breaths. It had been months since Noxus had tried to take over Piltover. Months since Caitlyn had lost her eye. Since Ekko and Jinx, and the rest of Zaun had saved them. Months since…since Jinx sacrificed herself in the Hexgate. It had been months, but for everyone that was there, for everyone that lost someone that day, it still felt like it was only yesterday.

During this time, Caitlyn had done everything she could to help Vi. She’d been there for her physically, mentally, and emotionally. And along the way, Caitlyn had gathered pieces of information—pieces that painted a picture far more complicated than either of them could have imagined. The truth about Jinx was still elusive, but Caitlyn wasn’t ready to give up. She needed to know if there was a way—any way—to bring Vi’s sister home. Caitlyn’s heart ached at the thought of Vi’s reaction. She could still see the way Vi’s eyes had darkened when she spoke of Jinx, the pain that lingered in her words. Caitlyn wasn’t sure if this was the right time, but she couldn’t deny the truth anymore. Could Vi bear to hear it? Could she bear to tell her? The hope that Jinx might still be alive felt like a fragile thing—something that could shatter just as easily as it was formed.

Vi, still shaking, managed to look up. She had known Caitlyn was there. Heard the familiar pats of her footsteps. Felt her presence. And while her whole life had been filled and defined by tragedy, Caitlyn had brought her peace. Was it perfect? No. Anyone would have looked at someone from Zaun and someone from Piltover and never expected them to get along. The two were different and yet their differences made them work.

“Thank you,” Vi managed to croak, throat still raspy for however long she had been crying. She took a ragged breath, “I can’t believe you found this place. She seemed so…hurt. So broken.” Again, guilt knotted at the pit of her stomach threatening to send her into the darkest parts of her mind again.

Caitlyn had to agree. The unfinished graffiti on the floors and walls told the story of someone who needed help, but Vi was going to spiral out again and Caitlyn hated to see her that way. “It’s not your fault Vi. You were a child. A child who suddenly lost your world and did what children do. She was also a child. Neither of you could have known or even understood what would happen.”

“But if I had just gone-”

“If you had gone back Silco could, and probably would, have caught and killed you,” Caitlyn said pointedly. But then she softened. They’d had this argument before. Several times. Grabbed Vi’s hand. “And I never would have met you.”

Vi lightly chuckled. “And where would you be without me, Cupcake?”

“Probably sipping tea in the parlor to be honest.” Vi looked at her bewildered, but then Vi smirked. “So you’d be sipping tea, huh? That sounds boring.” Caitlyn chuckled softly. “Probably. But I wouldn’t trade what I have now for anything. Not even a parlor tea set.”

The two stare at each other for a moment, just enjoying the company. Caitlyn reached out to Vi’s face and pushed her red hair. Caitlyn smiled slightly. “There you are.”

A ringing interrupted their quiet moment. Caitlyn’s communicator. Caitlyn sighed and pulled it out to see it was a message from the Council. Caitlyn read the message and gasped.

Vi’s hands trembled slightly, a deep, hollow feeling spreading through her chest as Caitlyn read the news. She wanted to stay here, in this moment, this fragile quiet between them. But the world was waiting. And so was the chaos. “What happened?” she rasped, voice cracked, as though even the question could break her.

“It’s the council. There's been an explosion at The Sun Gate. Lot’s of damage and fatalities. Trade there has stopped temporarily until this is resolved. Vi…Vi I’m so sorry but we need to go.”

“What? Now? Aren’t there enough enforcers to investigate this? We just found her-her home.”

“I’m sorry Vi. The council insists. They need us at the chamber to debrief.” Vi feels crushed. Like a hand had forced its way through her chest and squeezed her heart. It was like her sister dying all over again. Caitlyn hated seeing Vi like this. “I promise we’ll come back. We just need to see what is happening.”

Caitlyn stood up placing a sympathetic hand on Vi and began to walk out. Vi didn’t budge. She stared hard at the broken monkey gripping it even tighter. After a moment her grip loosened, and she laid the monkey down on the ground again before she stood up. Vi stood there for a long moment, gazing at the ruins of her sister’s hideout. The weight of those final words — “Always with you, sis.” — pressed against her chest. She could feel Jinx’s presence, even in the empty silence. “I’ll be back,” Vi whispered, her voice trembling but firm. “I promise.” As Vi and Caitlyn departed the hideout, across Zaun, chaos was erupting anew.

In Zaun, Ekko is dealing with the aftermath of another attack on Firelight territory. The acrid smell of smoke and the distant sound of crumbling structures filled the air as he surveyed the wreckage. Firelight members scrambled to contain the damage, dousing embers and patching wounds in the dim green glow of Shimmering streetlights.

"Any survivors?" Ekko asked, his voice tight as he approached Zeri, who stood over a group of frightened children huddled near a scorched wall. She shook her head, her normally vibrant energy subdued.

"No one from the outer posts," Zeri said, her fists clenched. "They hit fast and hard, just like the last time. We couldn’t even see where they came from."

Ekko’s jaw tightened as he knelt beside the children, offering them a reassuring smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "We’ll get through this," he murmured, though his mind churned with unease.

Nearby, Raph—a young Firelight scout—called out, "Boss! You need to see this." Ekko straightened, following Raph to a crumbling section of wall. There, painted in jagged strokes, was a crude crescent symbol. The edges dripped with fresh paint, its stark white lines glowing faintly under Zaun’s eerie light.

Ekko’s breath caught. His mind raced back to a memory he’d tried to bury: a dark alley, a frenzied laugh, and that same crescent, scratched onto a ruined wall. It had been months, nine to be exact, but the sight of it stirred a knot of dread in his chest.

"What is it?" Zeri asked, noting his expression.

Ekko shook his head, masking his unease. "Nothing. Just… something we need to figure out."

As they worked to assess the damage, Ekko’s focus was split. Whoever was behind these attacks wasn’t just targeting them—they were sending a message. The symbol wasn’t just graffiti; it was a taunt, one designed to drag the past into the present.

Hours later, as the Firelights regrouped in their hidden base, Ekko studied the symbol sketched out on a scrap of metal. His fingers traced the jagged lines, a growing sense of foreboding settling over him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this was personal, that someone out there knew exactly how to get under his skin.

Outside, amidst the shadows of Zaun’s labyrinthine alleys, a figure lingered, cloaked in darkness. Their eyes gleamed as they surveyed the Firelight base from a distance. Before disappearing into the night, they scrawled a fragment of bright, chaotic graffiti onto a nearby wall—wild and unmistakable in its style. The name "Jinx" practically screamed from the vibrant colors.

When Ekko emerged moments later, drawn by a faint noise, he found the graffiti. His heart sank, confusion and anger battling for dominance. "Jinx…?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. But deep down, he knew it couldn’t be her—not like this.

And yet, the chaos felt so familiar, it hurt.

[oporayamm]

since sometimes ao3 would go down i wanted to put my writing here so everyone can read it ^^ (hopefully this time it post because tumblr would sometimes not post--) anyway enjoy the first chapter everyone!

The Beauty in Silence [Chapter 1]

Silco x Fem OC || Boss x Employee || He falls first and fell harder || Yearning, Angst, Slow burn, Acts of service ||

TW: Depiction of violence, Slight gore depiction, Blood, Panic Attack, Intrusive Thought, Graphic depictions of violence: including physical combat, descriptions of injuries, and death.

Summary:

A mute girl in the undercity—it’s practically an open invitation to die. Yet somehow, she survives, thrives even. For most, she might seem like an easy target. But cross her, and the last thing you’ll see is either the shadows closing in or crimson pooling at your feet. She’s lethal, but obedient—a blade sharpened for one purpose. She belongs to the Eye of Zaun.

And he takes good care of his knife

⋆.˚☾.⋅⋆༺𓆩🗡𓆪༻⋆ 𓌜 ⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆ 𓌜 ⋆༺𓆩🗡𓆪༻⋆☽˚.⋆

Silence is a rare commodity in Zaun—a city defined by its chaos, crudity, and ceaseless noise. Surviving its streets is no small feat; fewer still escape without blood on their hands or a blade to the gut. Zaun is unrelenting, its hardships well-known to both its denizens and the privileged Piltover elites above.

But among the turmoil of the Undercity, one question lingers on every tongue: who is the quiet woman standing at the side of the Eye of Zaun?

She appeared three years ago, seemingly out of nowhere, and swiftly rose to become Silco’s right blade. Not a word escapes her lips, her silence unsettling even to the other Chem-Barons. Her presence is as enigmatic as her appearance—nothing like the rough, augmented Zaunites who call the Undercity home. She remains entirely unmodified, her body untouched by the machinery that so often defines survival in Zaun.

And yet, she is a force to be reckoned with. Her speed surpasses that of any ordinary human, her lethality unquestionable. Whispers abound that she is no mere woman but a miracle born of Silco and Singed’s experiments—a living weapon created in the depths of Zaun.

but no, shes in fact human, and has a title.

The knife of the underground, the right blade of the eye of zaun,

Her name is Nishita, though no one calls her that.  

“Knife. Take care of it,” Silco, her boss and owner commands, as usual. Another mess to clean up, another body to dispose of.  

“Knife, come and play! I'll beat you this time!” Sevika, the left hand of silco, drags her away from her brief respite, challenging her to another poker game. As always, Nishita wins.  

The two had been the bane of her existence—and her blessing—ever since Sevika found her. That night, years ago, was a blur of chaos. A couple of bloody fights and a few well-placed stabs later, Sevika had practically dragged Nishita to Silco’s office. Sevika, bloodied and battered, leaned heavily against the doorway, crimson dripping onto the floorboards.

Silco wasn’t pleased.

The sharp tang of iron filled the air as he looked between them, his mismatched eyes narrowing in disapproval. But Sevika stood her ground, clutching her side where Nishita’s blade had cut a little too close for comfort.

“You need a knife in a fistfight,” Sevika had argued, her voice hoarse but unwavering.

Nishita wasn’t sure that’s how the saying went, but she hadn’t bothered to correct it. She couldn’t, anyway—not with words.

The memory clung to her like the scent of blood, a grim reminder of where she came from. Even now, in the smoky haze of the Last Drop, no one called her by her real name. To them, she was just Knife.

No one really knows her name except—

“Nishyyy!”  

Jinx bursts out of the vent in Silco’s office, and Nishita catches her as usual. With a sigh, she ruffles the younger girl’s hair, silently chastising her with a stern look. Then she raises her hand and signs,  

[“How many times I told you? Don’t jump.”] her hand point to her nose and flick it, never liking her when she's carefree like that, 

Jinx, rubbing her nose and who has made her own rough sense of Nishita’s signing after countless attempts, just giggles. “But I like jumping! And you always catch me!” She beams with her usual unrestrained joy, and despite herself, Nishita smiles back.  

“Dad! I’m borrowing Nishita!” Jinx announces loudly as she hopped down and Jinx held her hand, ignoring any objections Silco might have.  

Nishita glances at Silco, lifting her hand to sign before remembering—he doesn’t bother with sign language. He never has. Instead, she hands him a note she prepared earlier:  

“I’ll be back before noon. I’ll keep her safe.”

Her handwriting, rough but legible, is thanks to Jinx’s patient guidance. Before meeting her, Nishita couldn’t read or write.  

Silco grunts his approval, and Jinx gleefully pulls Nishita along, slamming the office door behind them. Nishita tugs at Jinx’s arm, signaling her to slow down so she won’t collide with the bustling crowd in the Last Drop. But Jinx’s teenage energy is a force of nature, and Nishita doesn’t press the issue.  

She remembers what it was like to be fourteen—vaguely. Her own memories are a blur of survival and blood. Jinx has her scars too; she’s hinted at a hard childhood, but she’s always quick to add that Silco gave her happiness.  

Nishita’s glad she has that.  

“Any minute now!”  

Jinx’s voice echoes through the cluttered space as she hands Nishita a colorful, crudely painted bomb. It’s nothing dangerous—just a smoke bomb, Jinx assured her. She holds it obediently, waiting for the inevitable explosion, but it never comes.  

Frustrated, Jinx leaps from her hiding spot, tosses her helmet to the floor, and growls, “It didn’t work! Again!” She kicks a pile of junk for good measure, it falls echo through the space,

Nishita watches quietly, then gets up while holding the bomb. The bright smile Jinx painted on its surface stares back at her. She carries it to the table, scanning the scattered blueprints while Jinx fumes in the background, muttering, mumbling and swiping at her hair.  

“What are you doing?” Jinx asks, her anger momentarily dissipating as she notices Nishita writing. She rarely writes counting—so rarely that Jinx always stops to watch.  

Nishita finishes her note, then hands the bomb back, pointing to the spot she’d marked.  

Jinx squints at the writing, then grabs the pencil from Nishita’s hand, eager to troubleshoot. She mutters her way through the process, deconstructing the device while Nishita silently gestures to guide her.  

They work together, using their secret shorthand scribbled on sticky notes. Words only they understand:  

“Backwards and up” means recalibrating everything.  

“Dig deep and ponder” signals the need for a longer, more thoughtful plan.  

“Bunny skip” marks the least important parts—skippable, but risky.  

The bomb won’t be perfect, not yet. But Jinx is laughing now, and Nishita can’t help but feel a quiet warmth watching her. For all the chaos and danger, Jinx is happy—and that’s enough.  

“You know—I’m glad Sevika found you.” Jinx’s voice cuts through the sound of scribbling as she finishes jotting down the last of her calculations. A grin spreads across her face, accompanied by her signature cackle. “I even liked it when you kicked her butt!” She breaks into laughter again, and Nishita chuckles softly—a rare, small cough of a laugh that escapes her lips.  

Jinx stops mid-laugh and looks at her, smiling. Not her usual manic grin, but something softer, more genuine.  

“I do wonder,” Jinx says after a moment, setting her pencil down and swiveling in her seat to fully face Nishita. Her voice holds no malice, only curiosity. “You never told me how you lost your voice. It’s been, what, three years since you started working for Dad? You never told him, or me.”  

Nishita blinks, surprised, but stays still. Her confusion is evident, but her body stiffens.  

At first, she didn't respond. The silence stretches longer than usual, an unnatural weight settling in the room. Nishita’s hands move to hug herself, her shoulders curling inward as though shielding a hidden wound.  

Jinx frowns at the sight, her brows knitting together. She spins her chair away, muttering, “It’s fine if it’s sensitive. I’m sorry I asked—”  

But Nishita interrupts, pulling out one of her sticky notes. She scribbles quickly, then holds it out:  

“When the time is right.”

Before Jinx can say anything, Nishita hands her another note, the words written with careful deliberation:  

“I promise you.” 

Jinx stares at the notes for a moment, her expression softening. She looks up at Nishita, who offers a quiet, reassuring smile. Without warning, Jinx lunges forward, wrapping her arms around her.  

Nishita stiffens for a brief moment, then relaxes, letting Jinx’s warmth settle around her. They stay like that for a while, the unspoken comfort of their bond filling the silence.  

For now, no words are needed.  

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ◯ ☽ ◑ ● ◐ ☾ ◯ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ◯ ☽ ◑ ● ◐ ☾ ◯ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

She walked back to the Last Drop just past noon. Jinx had fallen asleep in her room, and Nishita had left a note beside her bed before tidying up the mess. She would have stayed longer, but Sevika had a knack for dragging her out to Silco whenever she lingered too long. Restraining the urge to remain, Nishita slipped away and made her way up to Silco’s office.

Passing the guards below, she gave her usual nod before ascending the stairs. Her knocking had become a signature of sorts—a habit born two years ago, shortly after meeting Jinx. Jinx had insisted she leave her own “mark,” something unique, like the eccentricities Jinx herself was known for. Now, Nishita always knocked rhythmically with her index and middle fingers, twice in quick succession.  

The response was immediate.  

“Come in, Knife,” Silco called from behind the door.  

She stepped in, closing the door softly behind her. Moving to her usual spot behind his desk, she took her post, silently observing his every move.  

Silco was as much a mystery to her as he was to the rest of Zaun. He could spend hours in silence, his movements slow and deliberate, and yet everyone seemed to understand him perfectly. His eyes and actions spoke volumes even when his mouth didn’t. What fascinated her most, however, was his voice.  

She had heard how the Pilties—the topsiders—spoke with their polished tones and forced elegance. Silco spoke with grace too, but it was a different kind. His words were sharp, direct, laced with roughness and the occasional profanity. Yet, there was a calm authority in his tone that she found oddly soothing.  

Caught in her thoughts, she didn’t realize a small smile had crept across her face.  

“Is there something funny?” Silco asked, his voice breaking through her reverie. His good eye stayed on the papers in front of him, but it had clearly caught her expression.  

Startled, she reached for a pencil and scribbled a note on one of her sticky pads.  

“Jinx and I did something fun. I’m remembering it. She’s asleep and safe.”

She placed the note on Jinx’s doodled ashtray, sliding it across the desk toward him. Silco picked it up, read it, and turned his chair toward her, a faint smirk on his face.  

“I’m glad she has a friend,” he said, his voice low. “You’re a lucky one. The last one didn’t even make it three months.”  

His words hung in the air, the weight of his meaning clear. Nishita stood perfectly still, her face calm but her mind racing.  

She wanted to raise her hands and sign something cheerful, to reassure him of her loyalty. But instead, she grabbed another sticky note and quickly jotted down a response. Holding it up to him, she nodded as he read it.  

“Young Jinx has a lot of potential. I love her dearly, and I’m thankful to be her friend.”

He scoffed, and she caught a faint hint of mockery in the sound. Her stomach sank.  

“I may have let you befriend her,” Silco began, leaning back in his chair. His good eye locked onto her, narrowing slightly in that way that made every word feel like a test.  

Her figure stood tall in the dim light of his office, cloaked in an aura of mystery that even Zaun’s chaos couldn’t unravel. A black scarf wrapped around her neck and mouth, hiding her expressions as effectively as her silence did. Her long silver hair, tied neatly into a ponytail, gleamed faintly in the hazy light. Her clothes were practical, covering her from head to toe—a stark contrast to the typical fashion of Zaunites, who often reveled in bold displays of skin and style. Nishita stood out, not because she tried to, but because she deliberately chose not to blend in.  

“Practically her closest—and only—friend,” Silco continued, his words measured and heavy. “But don’t think I’ve forgotten how little I know about you.”  

It wasn’t the first time she had heard this. His tone was deceptively calm, but the underlying threat lingered like the sharp edge of a knife just shy of her throat.  

This dance of trust and suspicion was a familiar one—a cycle she had grown accustomed to. Every time she returned from spending time with Jinx, he would bring her here for the same quiet interrogation.  

Nishita didn’t flinch. She had heard these words countless times before, and though they carried weight, they no longer fazed her. Still, her mind stayed sharp, reading his tone and body language for anything new—a flicker of anger, a shift of interest. But no, Silco remained the same enigma he always was: calculating, restrained, and endlessly watchful.  

She understood his protectiveness over Jinx. She even appreciated it. But the endless repetition was exhausting.  

Silco’s eyes lingered on her, waiting for a response. Nishita met his gaze briefly before looking away, her mind settling on the same thought it always did: This is for Jinx. And that’s enough. 

She looked at him again, her expression calm as she wrote a response. When she finished, she held the note out for him to see.  

“Dig up as much as you want. I have nothing to hide, my Lord.”

She always addressed him that way—My Lord. Never Silco or Boss like the others. She chose the title deliberately, finding it more fitting and distinct from the casual way others referred to him.  

As she stood there, she let out a soft sigh, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, her breath caught in her throat. Silco was standing right in front of her, having closed the distance between them without her noticing.  

He reached out, taking the note from her hand, his movements deliberate. He scanned the words before retreating back to his seat, settling into it with his usual composed demeanor.  

Her heart pounded, the brief shock making her think, for a split second, that he might have moved to stab her or seize her in some way. But she quickly reminded herself—Silco wasn’t so crude. That wasn’t his style.  

“You’re a hard one to find, really,” he said, his voice low and measured. “janna knows what past you have.” He paused, his sharp eyes lifting to meet hers. Onyx-gray met his own piercing gaze, and for a moment, she thought she saw curiosity more than anger in his expression.  

“But,” he continued, leaning back slightly, “I’ll keep looking. And when I find something I don’t like... consider yourself fired.”  

There was a pause, heavy with expectation, but she wasn’t surprised. She’d anticipated something like this and simply nodded. Her hand rose to her chest as she gave him a small, respectful bow before presenting another note she had prepared earlier:  

“As you told, my Lord.”

Her response was as obedient and straightforward as ever. She didn’t protest, didn’t argue. It wasn’t submission—it was loyalty. She followed him and his orders with quiet devotion. Not because she feared him, but because she chose to.  

Her unwavering gaze remained on him, and she noticed his brows furrow slightly. He turned his seat back toward the desk, his attention returning to his papers. The room fell into silence once more, the only sounds the soft rustling of parchment and the faint hum of Zaun’s undercity beyond the walls.  

She stood behind him as always, ready for his next command, whatever it might be. Not that she had much of a choice.  

It's either this or the lowered grounds again.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ◯ ☽ ◑ ● ◐ ☾ ◯ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ◯ ☽ ◑ ● ◐ ☾ ◯ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Once her shift ended and the bar began closing up, Nishita made her way to the counter. The bartender didn’t miss a beat when he spotted her.  

“Let me guess, the usual?” Theo, the bartender said in his usual smug tone.  

She nodded, a small but genuine smile forming beneath her scarf as she took a seat. He chuckled softly, disappearing into the back to prepare her meal.  

Getting food wasn’t always easy for her. Jinx often accompanied her to shop or grab a bite, but since Jinx was still asleep, Nishita hadn’t wanted to disturb her. Besides, Theo made a killer sandwich—one of the few things she truly enjoyed. Ham and cheese with a side of fries, paired with her usual strawberry soda. Alcohol had never appealed to her. She’d tried it once with Sevika, only to immediately despise it. Sevika had laughed when she grimaced, sticking out her tongue and handing the glass back to her. That’s when Sevika noticed the small hole in her tongue. After that, Sevika never pushed her to do things she didn’t want, something Nishita quietly appreciated.  

Theo returned with the plate, setting it down in front of her.  

“Here you are. Ham and cheese sandwich, fries, and your strawberry soda.”  

Her eyes lit up as she stared at the simple meal. She dug in immediately, eating with her hands.  

Theo watched her, his gaze drifting to her scarred hands, remnants of old wounds long healed. She ate happily, savoring each bite as though it was a feast. For him, it was just a cold sandwich and soda, but for her, it seemed like something much more.  

“You’re eating like it’s your first meal of the day,” he joked, leaning against the bar.  

She nodded without pausing, continuing to eat. Theo’s playful demeanor shifted.  

“Are you serious? Knife, you need to eat at least twice a day,” he said, his tone growing stern. “I’m pretty sure Silco pays you enough to survive—probably as much as Sevika. You don’t have a shimmer addiction, you don’t gamble, and I know you’re not spending it at brothels.”  

She scrunched her nose at that last comment, visibly cringing.  

“See?” He smirked, crossing his arms.  

She pulled down her scarf just enough to flash a small, amused smile at him. Theo sighed, running a hand through his hair.  

“You’re living in luxury now,” he said, his voice softening. “You could get whatever you want. Do whatever you want.”  

She finished her sandwich, wiping her hands together before pointing at her mouth and neck. Pulling her scarf down again showing her mouth area full of old scars, she tried to speak. All that came out was a faint, breathy exhale.  

Theo immediately understood, nodding solemnly.  

“I know,” he murmured. “You can’t talk. Hell, everyone in the Lanes knows about the mute girl Silco keeps around like a lap dog. But—” He cut himself off, realizing too late how harsh his words sounded.  

Nishita didn’t flinch. She calmly wrote on a note and slid it across to him.  

“Theo, I could care less what people say about me. Silco treats me well, despite what anyone thinks. I’m just glad I’m not clawing my way out of the under levels anymore. I like to eat your meals and find something to do.”

She returned to finishing her meal while Theo read the note, his face twisting with guilt. Without warning, he slapped himself across the face, startling her.  

Nishita leaned forward, her brows furrowing in concern.  

[“Theo?”] Her hand move worriedly, but forgotten he can't understand sign as well.

He raised a hand to stop her, shaking his head before slamming his palm onto the counter.  

“Where do you live?” he asked suddenly.  

She hesitated, then wrote her answer on another note.  

“A small place nearby. Its worn and dirty but it's the only home I have, I'm used to sleeping on the floor for now. The bed is…unhabitable”

Theo fell silent again, imaging the area nearby and it isn't pretty too, his thoughts clearly racing. Nishita scribbled quickly on another note and held it up,  

“Please don’t hit yourself. Why are you hitting yourself?”

Her concern was written all over her face, her brows knitted as her dark eyes searched his for answers.  

He sighed heavily, leaning forward.  

“Come live with me,” he blurted out.  

Nishita blinked, taken aback. She stood abruptly, inching away as suspicion etched itself onto her face, her hand was near her knives just by her hips. He had only work here for a year and talk to her a handful of times, only a matter of time before she or sevika kill him off just like the last couple of bartenders that tried to play around with them or silco.

“No, not like that,” Theo clarified, his hands raised in surrender. “I mean as my roommate. I’m not going to do anything to you– Knife. I’m just saying... I’ve got space. You’d have your own room, your own privacy. I’ll even cook for you.”  

She squinted, her nose scrunching in skepticism.  

Theo stifled a laugh. She reminded him of a wary cat, eyeing him, like she might suddenly lunge and kill him.  

“Look,” he continued, “my apartment’s big enough for two. I haven't had any luck finding a special someone to share it with, so... I’m offering it to you. You’d get a proper bed, a decent bathroom, and I’d only charge you half the rent.” 

She considers it at first, the offer hanging in the air. The thought of going another day or two without eating properly, as she often did, weighs heavily on her. Tired of the cycle, she finally nods, giving him a thumbs up in agreement.  

Theo smiles warmly, extending his hand toward her.  

"A deal, then?" he asks, his voice light with humor.  

She glances at his outstretched hand, tilts her head, and instead scribbles on a note before passing it to him with a grin.  

"A deal!" 

She even adds an exaggerated smiley face at the end, clapping her hands together in excitement.  

Theo reads the note, chuckling as he tucks it into his pocket. "You’re a strange one," he mutters under his breath with a small smile before picking up her empty plate and glass.  

"Tomorrow, you’ll come home with me. I’ll clean the space tonight. Just bring whatever you need from your place so I can make some room," he says casually, though his tone holds an undercurrent of sincerity.  

Her response is pure joy. She claps her hands again, hopping in place like a child who just received an unexpected treat. It’s a rare sight, this unguarded happiness, and Theo can’t help but chuckle at her enthusiasm.  

"See you tomorrow, Knife," 

he says softly, his voice tinged with affection, as he disappears into the back.  

She didn't catch the softness of his voice when she's too happy to think, 

She leaves some money and a small thank-you note on the counter before slipping out the door, her steps light and quick as she heads toward her humble home. The excitement of finally having someone she trusts and a real place to stay fuels her movements.  

What she doesn’t notice, however, is the shadowy figure watching from a hidden vantage point. Silco’s presence is like an oppressive weight, but she’s so accustomed to it that it no longer stirs any suspicion within her. His piercing gaze follows her every movement, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before he retreats into the night.  

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ◯ ☽ ◑ ● ◐ ☾ ◯ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ◯ ☽ ◑ ● ◐ ☾ ◯ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

The next day found Nishita and Jinx holed up in Jinx's chaotic hideout. Jinx had just finished testing a modified bomb from yesterday, her handiwork detonating against the wall in a riot of colors. Nishita, mimicking Jinx’s aim, threw her own bomb in tandem, her brow furrowing slightly as Jinx muttered to herself.  

"That's odd," Jinx said, her tone sharp with curiosity.  

Nishita tilted her head, her expression questioning as she signed, ["What’s odd?”]

“Dad had Theo up at his office this morning,” Jinx said, tossing another bomb casually and watching it detonate in the abyss below. “I was gonna finish snooping, but then I heard they were talking about you.”  

Nishita froze mid-motion, startled by the revelation. Confused, she turned toward Jinx and signed shakily, ["Why would Silco call Theo? Did something happen?"]

Jinx shrugged nonchalantly, twirling a strand of her blue hair as she wandered back to her worktable. “Something, something about you moving in with Theo. You like him or something? You two barely talk! No offense.”  

A chuckle escaped Nishita as she followed Jinx to the table. She began signing again, her movements calm. ["None taken. But you’re right, we rarely talk. I only go to him for food. He offered me a place to stay, though, and I accepted."] 

Jinx whipped around, grabbing Nishita by the hands and staring straight into her eyes. “Are you dumb?”  

Nishita blinked, tilting her head, her confusion evident.  

“Nishi, seriously! He’s trying to get in your pants!” Jinx exclaimed, flailing her arms.  

Nishita sighed, gently swatting Jinx on the head before signing firmly with one hand, ["Language. And no." ] 

Jinx scowled but pressed on, “Then why did you accept? What if he—well-”  

She let go of Nishita’s hands, leaning back into her chair as her thoughts ran wild. “If he does try anything, he’s as good as dead, I guess. Your knives are faster than bullets. And people, really…”  

Nishita stared at her patiently, shaking her head. "I need a new place," she signed. ["I don’t like where I live."]

Jinx wrinkled her nose, visibly remembering Nishita’s dingy apartment. “To be honest, me neither. Your place stinks,” she said, shuddering exaggeratedly.  

Nishita couldn’t help but laugh silently, the corners of her eyes crinkling in amusement.  

[“So, what happened to Theo? Is he alive?”] she asked with her hands, her brow furrowing.  

Jinx nodded, her expression thoughtful. “He’s alive. For now. Dad’s sending some of his men to patrol around his place, though. Which is just… weird.”  

Nishita tilted her head, waiting for Jinx to continue.  

“You’re not weak,” Jinx added, her arms crossing as her brow furrowed. “Dad knows it. Sevika knows it. Hell, I think the whole underground knows it. So why would he bother being protective? You’re the one who protects him if anything.”  

Nishita shrugged, her fingers fidgeting before moving gently to form her response. "Maybe he’s just worried about his people?" 

Jinx stared at her, the look on her face somewhere between disbelief and amusement. Worried? Really? Is what's on her face right now,

Nishita sighed silently, her hands moving again in exasperation. ["If it’s not you, he wouldn’t worry at all."]  

Jinx snorted, leaning back against the table, but her grin faded quickly. “Still, sending patrols just because you’re moving in with Theo feels… off. He doesn’t do that for anyone else.”  

Nishita paused, her expression calm but thoughtful. ["Do you think it’s something more? Or just him being… him?"]

Jinx shrugged, a trace of unease in her usual bravado. “Who knows? With Dad, it could be anything. Maybe he’s just testing Theo, or maybe he’s got some big master plan in that brain of his. Whatever it is, just… watch your back, okay?”  

Nishita nodded firmly, her hand signing back, ["Always."] Nishita hesitated, her hands moving again. ["Do you think I should thank him? Or question him? What if he gets mad if I ask?"]

Jinx tilted her head, thinking for a moment before smirking. “Why not both? You’ve got nothing to lose. I’ll be there watching if you need backup.”  

Nishita shook her head, signing quickly. ["My problem. My resolve."]

Jinx leaned back in her chair, her lips pursed. “If you say so. Oh, wait—you said you had something for me?”  

Nishita nodded, rummaging through her bag before pulling out a stitched-together bunny-like doll. It was worn and patched with duct tape, but it was clean. She handed it to Jinx,   

[“I found this and wanted to give it to you for a while, but I didn’t have the time until now. Sorry if it’s horrible—”]  

Before she could finish signing, Jinx went completely still. Nishita tilted her head in concern.  

“Jinx?” she signed, but before she could react further, Jinx tackled her in a fierce hug, her legs wrapping around Nishita’s waist.  

“I don’t think I deserve you,” Jinx murmured, her voice shaky. “I treat you horribly—I use you as a guinea pig! But you… you just let me.”  

Nishita didn’t push her away. She simply patted Jinx’s back, her other hand gently caressing her hair. Her expression was calm, understanding. She knew about Jinx’s past, knew her struggles. Judging wasn’t her way; being there was.  

And for Jinx, that was enough.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ◯ ☽ ◑ ● ◐ ☾ ◯ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ◯ ☽ ◑ ● ◐ ☾ ◯ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Coming back from Jinx's hideout, Nishita entered the Last Drop. She barely stepped through the door when Sevika spotted her, waving her hand to get her attention. Nishita made her way over, and Sevika gestured for her to sit. Without hesitation, she complied, watching as Sevika continued her poker game with some of the locals. She sat next to her bionic arm, watching her as she played.

“Heard you and bartender boy are hanging out,” Sevika remarked, not taking her eyes off the game as she raised the bet.

Nishita tilted her head, pulling out a note and writing quickly before showing it to Sevika. 

"I'm just moving in with him as he offered. We're not dating."

Sevika glanced at the note, then back to her cards, letting out a heavy sigh. Her bionic arm rested in Nishita's lap, the weight of it familiar now. 

“You really are an idiot,” Sevika muttered, half-smiling but mostly focused on her hand.

Nishita rolled her eyes, treating it as the compliment it had become. She then turned her attention to Sevika's arm, inspecting it carefully. Pulling out another note, she jotted down a few things—what was wrong with it and what needed fixing—before slipping it into Sevika's pocket.

“I fold,” Sevika finally said, revealing her cards. The other players groaned, and Sevika’s grin widened—of course she won.

Nishita stood up, slipping a note into Sevika's free hand. "I'm going up. See you later." She patted Sevika’s bionic shoulder, but as she turned to leave, Sevika caught her hand gently with her bionic arm.

“Don’t piss him off again,” she warned, her tone unusually serious. Nishita nodded, though she didn’t fully understand what Sevika meant. She gently pulled her hand away and made her way toward Silco’s office.

Her thoughts lingered as she walked. What did Sevika mean? Theo hadn’t done anything wrong, had he? Was there something suspicious about his offer? She couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling gnawing at her. Could this be another assassination attempt on Silco? She hoped not—she really did need a new place to sleep.

When she reached Silco’s office, she knocked as usual: two knocks, two fingers. There was a brief silence before Silco’s low voice called out.

“Come in, Nishita.”

⋆.˚☾.⋅⋆༺𓆩🗡𓆪༻⋆ 𓌜 ⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆ 𓌜 ⋆༺𓆩🗡𓆪༻⋆☽˚.⋆

[Pre-quel || Next Chapter || AO3 ]

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

part 11- a thousand candles burn into the night

"When the ashes start to rise and the moon falls from the sky and a thousand candles burn into the night. When the angels softly cry on the flames below the sky, would a thousand souls still pray for you and I?" -Day of the Dead by Hollywood Undead

Masterlist Part 10

Just like the summer air began to cool into autumn winds, Jasmine and Jason began with a heated tension between them that dwindled into a slow simmer of what neither of them wanted to jinx by calling it love. 

Both were aware of how unnatural their connection was, how quick one was able to trust the other with simple thoughts that roll off the tongue- Jazz’s favorite tea, Jason’s favorite book, her younger siblings, his many brothers. It was obvious that Jason held some lingering anger towards those he called family, but it was an old wound, infected yet healing. When it came to more in-depth questions about Jazz’s siblings, Danny and Ellie, there was a sad tinge to the affection. Jazz missed Ellie with every fiber of her being, but her little sister was free as her heart desired. 

Jason spoke at length about his own, eventually admitting his anger issues that had led him to attempted murder on one of the younger boys, Tim, that he deeply regretted. 

Jazz had only to listen, because who else could understand the deeply rooted rage that came with betrayal? 

One slash, two, three

Blood is on your hands already. 

Fourth, fifth slash

Ask the ghosts if honor matters, buried amongst the ash. 

Slash six, seven

Sharpen your love into a weapon

They went out on several dates, each one special and lovely, but Jazz’s favorite was being wrapped in familiar arms as they watched Pride and Prejudice on Jason’s couch. It was a comfortable warmth that lulled the redhead into a deep sleep, the best she had gotten in a long time. 

Jazz was the first to wake, lying on Jason’s firm chest and ear pressed firmly to where she could hear a faint purr from his Proto-Core, she felt no compulsion to move even though there were things she had to do as Regent and as Jasmine. 

She had to talk to Frostbite, because she needed to understand why she was so connected to Jason. It frightened Jazz, to have her emotions so sharpened towards someone she hadn’t known for very long. 

(She was in love.) 

Her own Proto-core purred in tandem with Jason’s, happiness bubbling up in her chest. This was a peace she never wanted to let go, regardless of the reason why the two of them were brought and bound together. 

Jason was in love. 

There was zero doubt in his head or heart that he was fully committed to his darling Jazz, the beautiful woman who understood him in ways no one ever had. With her, the pit remnants were calm and he was happy. 

Happy. 

Sheer happiness was in his grasp, in his arms and resting on his chest as she slept. Her long hair smelled like strawberries and he never wanted to leave. 

Yet, bat-trained paranoia reared its ugly head in moments like these. 

Jasmine Nightingale was, by all accounts, a civilian with a trust fund who cared for her younger brother. No other records were found that could tie either Jazz or Danny to crime, but Jason didn’t want to see them if they existed anyway. He hadn’t even met Danny yet and the kid, despite being prime adoption bait, was already one of Jason’s favorite people. He made Jazz proud with his intelligence and good-natured attitude, so Jason would do his best to form a good relationship with the kid. 

He guessed he should be more concerned with how quickly he fell for his darling, but he wasn’t. It felt right. It felt safe. Like he could trust Jazz with every thought, every dream, every hope, every nightmare and she wouldn’t run away. He wanted her, plain and simple. 

Thankfully Jazz was more or less on the same page as him. 

She never had to say a word about how she felt for him, it was obvious in the way she would gravitate towards him, want to be around him, talk to him, simply be with Jason. How honored he felt to be gifted such attention by Jazz. 

He didn’t know how to tell her about Red Hood though. 

The Nightingales lived outside Crime Alley’s borders, in a shitty neighborhood of Gotham recently claimed by two new vigilantes- Phantom and Regent. 

Jason tried to shove back the horrifying images of a vivisectied Phantom, screaming, sobbing and whimpering, but he would ever be able to forget. 

The video of Regent killing the Fentons was glitched, but cross referenced with the Ghost Files, it was obvious the Regent of Now and Then were the same woman…entity that saved Phantom, no, avenged the ghost kid. 

The fact that the Fentons death prevented a war was karmic justice, in his humble opinion. 

Yet, there was something familiar about the Regent. Something that called to him on a baser level… as if he knew the entity behind the helmet. 

But that was ridiculous…right? 

Right? 

Jazz was going to kill him all the way this time, Danny bemoaned while in flight. He really stuck his foot in it this time and yikes, he really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut. 

He just had to go behind Jazz’s back and give the Ghost Files to Batman instead of Superman or Constantine. Big and blue wasn’t available when Danny found an opportunity and for shame if he wasted it! Sad trench coat man being there was really just a bonus, honestly. 

With the Acts getting the League’s attention, it was time for a desperate move on the part of the GIW. 

They infiltrated Gotham. 

Danny had no idea how they had found a way past the border Lady Gotham kept a tight leash on, but the agents were able to pick up his trail with a lucky break on their end. He had a haunt in Gotham, which meant his ecto-signature was strong in that area and weak in others. A glaring neon sign of where the Phantom often could be found. 

But Danny would never give up his haunt again, not without a fight. 

This haunt didn’t just belong to him, not like Amity had. This had become the home of the Nightingales, the Phantom and the Regent. They had shed blood to claim it and would shed more to keep it. 

If it meant admitting to his mistake, then so be it, that’s where he would start. 

“Bold of you to assume I thought that far ahead.” Was probably not the best response to Jazz’s irate question of ‘Did you even consider what Batman, Mr. Contingencies-out-the-ass and minion-acquisition-instead-of-therapy, would do with the files?’ 

Needless to say, Jazz wasn’t impressed. 

She had been rather happier lately, with her boyfriend Jason constantly in her orbit, but responsibility still weighed on her. 

(Danny’s fault, he was aware, but he still had so much growing up to do before he was ready for the crown.)

Getting the AEA demolished was sure to take some weight from her, even if it would be only the beginning of resolving the repercussions of the United States’ crimes against the Infinite Realms. 

It would be years before it would be considered repaid, the blood shed and existences snuffed out. The deaths of the Dr. Fentons were only a consequence of their actions, not truly recompense for the torture they inflicted on the people of the Realms. 

(Danny never told Jazz, but he knew they didn’t die when the portal was destroyed.)

(He knew his sister had killed their parents to save him.) 

(He still didn’t know how to feel about that.) 

Lady Gotham offered a sad croon as Phantom curled his form under a gargoyle’s wings, the heavy rain an ironic ambiance for his mood.

There was nothing he could do about the GIW in Gotham until they showed themselves and they were doing an unusually good job of keeping on the down low. If it hadn’t been for the frantic screeches of the friendly shades and a few blob ghosts cuddling him for comfort, he would have been caught off-guard by an attack. As long as he stayed out of his haunt for a while, let his signature be caught somewhere else, then Jazz would be able to defend their home until he could deal with the bastards. 

He just needed to wait. 

Jazz had been livid with him admitting his fuck up with the files and deeming the GIW’s presence his fault for claiming a Haunt. With a threat to hug him and make him talk about his feelings until he no longer believed such a lie, Jazz agreed to remain in their Haunt until he could draw some of their forces away. Lady Gotham’s ecto-siganture would be enough to scramble their trackers once further into her city and she would subtly lead her Knights to the agents when able. 

It wasn’t much, but it would have to be enough.

Phantom curled his tail around his laid back form, mimicking a cat as he texted Sam and Tucker with updates. They had sworn to visit him during Summer Break, but the Halfa wasn’t holding his breath. Gotham wasn’t safe for them. It wasn’t safe for anyone and that’s coming from a kid who can punt a building into the sun at a moment’s notice. 

Amity was (laughably) the best place for them. 

Phantom wasn’t really paying attention, absentmindly petting a blob ghost that was cuddled into his side, when he was joined by none other than the Red Hood. 

Badass armor and weapons aside, the Hood was an Antihero he admired. The avenged dead sung his praises for all who’d listen. 

And… he was very familiar. 

Red Hood possessed a Proto-core, one he’d sensed before in his own home….with Jazz. 

It couldn’t be. There was no way the Fenton luck could be that wonky that his big sister was dating Red Hood of all people, Jason Todd when unmasked. She had to know right? There was no way Jazz could miss the Proto-core signature of the Once-Revenant they’d housed for a while. Was Jazz okay with Jason’s past? Sure, Red Hood didn’t kill much anymore, but he was still a crime lord who thought severed heads in a duffel bag was a great gift to leave on someone’s doorstep, like a particularly picky cat. 

“Uh, hi?” 

Hood crouched down, rain blocked by his huge body, water droplets dripping off his red helmet. The white lenses gave nothing away as the Anti-hero spoke, “Hey kid. You ok?” 

(Danny was well aware of how gentle and caring Red Hood was towards kids.) 

(He couldn’t wait to be an uncle.) 

“I’m fine, dude. Just chilling.” 

“Under a gargoyle in Gotham?” The disbeliving tone made Phantom snort in laughter, because wow not the scariest concept to a halfa. 

“Hey, it was either this or the sewers. I wouldn’t be caught dead,” Phantom chuckled a bit at his joke. “Down there without hazmat gear and the Anti-Creep stick.” 

Hood snorted, the sound stackity through the modulator, “Fair enough. Don’t get caught by the big bat, ok? He doesn’t like Metas in his city.” 

“Oi, being dead is a meta-cal condition.” 

“Ugh,” Hood groaned, “a punster. You’re not dead, kid.” 

“‘Fraid I am, my good dude. Fourteen and fried alive, zero outta ten, would not recommend.” 

“...You’re a ghost?” 

“Right in one! Name’s Phantom.” the Halfa offered, seeing no point in correcting the Anti-hero. 

“Red Hood.” 

“Dude, I know. The shades sing your praises given half a chance.” 

“Shades?” 

Phantom shrugged, “The restless dead, unable to pass over without a lot of ectoplasm.” 

Hood didn’t ask what ectoplasm was, which surprised the Halfa. Did Batman share the Ghost Files with Red Hood? 

“You’re from Amity Park, right?” 

Phantom cringed at the name of his former haunt, anger bubbling in his gut, “I died there. I haunt Gotham now.” 

“....I’m sorry.” Even with the modulator, Hood sounded genuinely sad for Phantom. 

(Batman definitely shared the Ghost Files with the Anti-Hero.)

“Are you alright here? Do you need help?” 

Phantom shook his head, “The GIW invaded Gotham tracking my Ecto-signature, so I’m leading them away from my Haunt.” He raised an eyebrow, “You should be careful too. You’re a pretty strong liminal, but they’ll still try to capture you.” 

“No, they won’t get me. Phantom, where’s your haunt?” 

If Hood was anyone else, Phantom would keep his mouth shut. A Haunt is sacred, a home for a Fraid, it was not some measly address freely given. Yet, Red Hood was also Jason Todd, Once-Revenant Death-claimed Champion turned Proto-core Liminal dating his older sister. If Jazz trusted him enough to date him, then it was good enough for Phantom to offer him a place in his Fraid. (He really couldn’t wait to be an uncle.)

A/N: This was beta-read by @meditating-cat, thanks!

The little bit at the end there... foreshadowing, perhaps? Ooh... all those baby names I could give a Hardcover kid.

Perhaps, perhaps not. Who knows. I have the end of this series mostly planned out, but it could likely change.

Thanks for reading!