#platonic lol arcane

[insane-arcane]

How does this story have no comments like wow :0

The Before and the After

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A/N: Had angst on the brain. Be ready

~~~

"Like that daddy?" You question as you crack the eggs in the good bowl like he had shown you too. Vander chuckled and made sure to catch the egg shells you were about to drop before they fell into the cake mixture. Placing the broken pieces on the counter to later put in the garbage he wiped at his hands taking in the sweet smell from the batter. Oh well crunchy cake was never a bad thing. He's sure the extra sugar you snuck in would cover the taste, besides you had waited long enough for the others and thanks to them being late you were impatient. He honestly didn't blame you. Wasn't often you got cake.

In fact it was only once a year on a very special day.

Sighing at the mess you'd both made he handed you a large spoon to mix it all together. You carefully stand on the stool so your a little taller than the counted and begin to mix with a concentrated look on your face. He hums at your work before assessing the damage. The counter had become a mess of scattered ingredients and your clothes and apron would need a good washing. You were covered in flour among other things but you were insistent on helping. Since your uncle's weren't here to distract you while he baked he gave in knowing the cost. Scooping up some of the once ingredients he plops them into the trash since they were unusable now. You claimed you were finally old enough to join him and you really wanted to prove that by making your cake almost by yourself.

He couldn't say no too your cute face.

"Like this dad?" You question snapping him back to watch you carefully. You were squashing the ingredients and mixing them like you'd seen him do a hundred times. As he grabs a towel and begins the cleaning process he swipes a bit of the batter.

"Perfect cupcake." He teases you as he tastes it and you smile happy. Looking at the likely stained counter he paused seeing little piles of different ingredients he'd have to wipe away.

Still mixing he gets a sneaky grin before he dots his finger in one of the sugar piles you'd made while pouring. Whistling innocently you look up at him confused before he smears some on the tip of your nose.

"Dad that's for the cake!" You complain and he laughs before kissing it off.

"I think we're well past that point." He hums looking at the messy counter before he leans down to nuzzle you. You giggle as his beard lightly tickles your face and a puff of white comes off you from all the flour you'd gotten on yourself. "Besides it's for you because your just so sweet. Sometimes papa just wants to eat you, your sweeter than the sugar." He states before picking you up and making eating noises as he pretend eats you.

"No papa no!" You wail before thinking fast. Reaching behind you and thunking him with the mixing spoon he drops you in surprise. As you land with an oooof on the kitchen floor, batter runs down his face in a drippy pattern. You look up at him from your place on the floor trying to stop your giggles at his surprised face. Glancing at the sink water seeing his reflection he begins laughing with you. You grab your dad a clean towel to wipe his face off and he keeps laughing as he takes it.

"You two are so sweet it's almost disgusting." Someone states from the doorway making you pause. Turning to look you were right.

"UNCLE SILCO!" Running towards him you jump into his open arms sending a cloud of flour everywhere. Picking you up and holding you close despite the mess he chuckles as your disheveled form and the war zone the kitchen had become. Pushing your hair back he kisses your forehead happy to see his favorite child. Butter, sugar, and flour touch his lips making him chuckle as he pulls away.

Your father wasn't kidding, you really were your own pastry.

"Hello ankle biter. What mischief are you making today?" He questions playfully, already knowing the answer as he nuzzles into you. He looks to Vander with a slight eyebrow raise. Your father shrugs at him before he opens the wood stove checking on the fire, it was ready he just had to out the batter in a pan. You don't see focusing on Silco instead of the cake for now. Letting out some giggles as he teases you, you smile gently pushing his sharp face away as he keeps nuzzling you.

"Cake!" You state excited and your uncle smiles down at you, his raven hair framing his thin face as his sea green blue eyes stare at you and than look up at your father who shrugs sliding the tin into the oven. So this bomb going off in his bars kitchen was Vanders version of a cake and not some kind of food war? Must be one hell of a cake. Though he supposed without him and Benzo there he fell pray to your puppy dog eyes.

"Cake? Why are you making cake?" Silco questions playfully and you gasp as your tiny fists clutch his vest in disbelief. A hand goes through your hair and he hums with a small smirk. You really did take after him when it came to dramatics, perhaps your father was right in calling the revolutionist a bad influence. The look of betrayal on your face almost makes Silco stop his teasing but you were too cute all shocked and wide mouthed as you stared at him. He wished he could take a picture and keep you young and small forever. But alas you were growing as all children do. Much too quickly in his opinion. As all children in Zaun did.

"No you can't forget what day it is!" You complain and Silco makes a dramatic face as he leans against the wall and puts his hand to his head feigning ignorance. You cling to him as he leans back and he peaks an eye open to see your displeased face. Chuckling light heartedly he adjusts on the cool wall as you cross your arms and pout supported by his arm holding you up.

You always were a ray of sunshine in the pits they called Zaun, even when you were upset or pouty. You deserved the world.

"Oh heavens. What did I forget? Is it someone's birthday? Is our little munchkin getting older? No I won't allow it, you must be small forever." He states getting up only to sqeeze you close as if to shrink you. Squealing in delight that he remembered the day before trying to squirm out of his arms he smiles stopping the silly game. He peppers your face in kisses instead glad your in such a good mood. You deserved to always be happy and always be smiling especially on your birthday.

"Stop stop!" You whine and he finally does when Vander gives him a look. Not noticing you see something behind Silcos back clipped to his bag. Your eyes widen in excitement realizing it was likely a gift for your big day. "Did you bring me something?" You question vibrating in his arms. Silcos sly smile made you squeal as he always had the best gifts.

"(Y/N) that's rude to ask." Your father chides and your face goes red before you hide in Silcos vest resting in the soft and nice smelling fabric.

"You did though? Right?" You try to whisper and Vander lets out a loud groan as Silco winks at him. Peaking at your uncle he winks at you too making you giggle quietly.

"Silco your corrupting my child again. Either put on an apron and help me with this mess or get out of here. No free cake for you Mr. Late." He teases and you laugh as your dad takes you from Silco throwing you into the air before he catches you. Squealing as your thrown towards the kitchens ceiling again, Silco rolls his eyes placing his bag down before he puts on an extra apron hanging from the wall.

"Your the boss cake face." Silco responds coyly and your dad glares at him before letting out a little smile, some batter still stuck on his face from your earlier assault. Silco snorts in response to Vanders childish ways. He looks at the floor that'd need mopping before glancing back at Vander as he ties the apron. "Benzo will be here soon, he sent me ahead but I got a little side tracked with a job. He's getting something from his shop. Our mission went long." He explains averting his eyes from you before bending down towards his bag. "So cake face what are we doing?" Silco pushes the tease and you giggle as your dad rolls his eyes.

"I'll show you cake face." Vander threatens but before he can do anything he has a face full of flour as you run and hide behind Silco. Silco chuckles and and unbuckles the thing attached to his pack before standing infront of you to shield you.

"It looks like they won brother. It's only fair after such a tactful victory they get one of their presents early and you clean while we go play victorious." He states and you jump up and down at the idea as Vander rolls his eyes again.

"Ahhh. Traitor." He states towards the both of you as he swats his arm and turns towards the gigantic mess. "Would've been more fair with Benzo, two against two." Vander murmers making you chuckle before you turn towards Silco eyeing his closed fist.

He holds both hands up and scooting closer he loosens his grip revealing what's inside his hold. A shiny black case with a sapphire on the top catches your attention. Reaching out to touch the gift the case is soft velvet. You almost feel bad touching such a material with messy hands but Silco urges the item closer when you go to pull away. As Vander glares at him Silco shrugs before seperating his hands opening the case. Your eyes widen at your first weapon.

A small yet large in your hands silver dagger. Something you'd surely grow into. It had a gold tipped blade and a black wrapped leather handle with a pearl bottom. It looked as expensive as the case, maybe more so and as you held it, it felt heavy in a good way. Was it really for you? Touching the sharp edge Vander frowned at the intricate but dangerous gift.

"To cut the cake." Silco explains or maybe defends as he squeezes your shoulders looking up at Vander with begging eyes. You nod agreeing with your uncle as you hold the treasure close excited for the cake to bake so you could try it out. Vander didn't seem happy but regardless of his feelings he never took the gift away.

~~~

Startling awake from your dream the memories of cake and laughter and small presents drifted away. You paused as your head spun and neck creaked from falling asleep sitting up. Groaning before having a coughing fit your hand rubbed your throat to soothe the soreness. You guessed your birthday always brought back tough memories but this sickness whatever it was, wasn't helping. Ruminating on that moment from years ago, remembering the loss of your uncle you push it away.

"Powder... powder can you get me some water? Maybe with lemon? They should be back soon." Blinking trying to clear your vision you had a faint ringing in your ears. Looking up when you didn't get a response from the her you realize your all alone and the little blue haired girl was nowhere to be seen. Reaching for your dagger just incase their was danger you were on your own. Pushing yourself off the couch with unsteady feet going towards her bed you stop noticing the sheets were empty and all her monkey bombs and inventions were gone.

"Fuck." You curse before stumbling towards the stairs.

Running out of the bar searching for her the smog of the streets didn't help your senses. Hacking as you rushed through back alleys with dull lights but pulsing noises you head where you knew they were. Your heartbeat pounded in your head and your footsteps echoed around you bouncing around your skull. Continuing to where you needed to be you tripped down the back streets of Zaun. Legs wobbling from the strain of running when you felt the way you felt you heaved in the nights cold and smog filled air. Just your luck to get sick on your birthday when your friends needed you most.

Vi was so gonna give you an earful when she learned Powder escaped your watch and Vander probabaly wouldn't be happy either. Bending over to catch your breath you wheezed as your hands gripped your knees and you closed your eyes. Coughing you slowly stand again, holding your trusted dagger incase you needed to use it. Throwing all those thoughts to the side you push yourself off the grimy wall behind you and get closer to where Violet said your father was being held. Where the others should be if they weren't home.

Stopping you taste the metallic air feeling something different. Eyes widening even with your bad nose you can smell the smoke.

Getting a burst of adrenaline you rush forward despite the dizziness and run out onto the peir. Ash and water mix under your feet as your boots splash through the sickening puddles. You smelled it before you saw it and when you saw it, your sickness wasn't the only thing that made you want to vomit.

"DAD! DADDDDDD!" You cough as the sour air burns your agitated throat but you can't stop calling for him. For any of them. They had to be around here somewhere. They had to have gotten out. Feeling your world shatter you don't see anyone. God where were they? Where were they?

This was your fault, your fault. You should've gone with them, you should've been there too. How could you let them leave without you? Feeling tears prick your eyes you sway on the wooden pier as the building goes up in flames. How could you not watch Powder closer? How could you let them do this? "VIOLET! CLAGGOR! MYLO! POWDER!" Tears streak down your face as you watch the building burn unable to do anything to stop the fire. Embers fly through the air like orange flickering stars and burn your skin as they land on you. Ash coats your hair and fills your lungs as you stare at where they should be. Frantic you turn every which way despite your blurring vision searching for anyone. Your friends, your family!

You were supposed to watch Powder keep her safe with you until everyone else got back. But you were sick, you closed your eyes for a second. Just a second!!! "POWDER! VANDER!" How could this happen? Who would do this? Screeching louder, screaming into the endless night, the heat of the fire and thickness of the smoke could be felt from where you were standing.

Running towards the flames with shaky but determined legs, long and slender arms wrap around your waist stopping you from rushing into the unstable building. You sob screaming bloody murder through your sore throat as you claw at their hands dagger knicking them, as you desperately reach for the building. Tears streak down your soot stained face and you begin coughing violently from both the atmosphere and your sickness as you continue to struggle with all you have. You tried to stab them with your dagger but a familiar hand held your hand back keeping you from cutting yourself or them. Your eyes widened in panic as your recognized the person holding you back. After all they gave you the knife in the first place.

"Shhhh... Shhhhh." He coos and you wish he was in that building burning with them. "It's alright. I have you now. I have you now." He keeps soothing and you want to kill him. You want to kill him. This is his fault. He did this. He DID this. You wished he'd died that day like Vander told you he had. You wished he was dead.

Turning you try and stab him again, try to hurt him a fraction of the way he's hurt you. By leaving. By betraying you and dad. By doing this! He takes the gift he once gave you away and you'd find that ironic if you weren't on the verge of a full mental breakdown.

You scratch at him reaching for your dagger before you decide you want nothing from him and begin to pound your fists against his chest instead. Screams of rage rip out of your sore throat like a rapid animal as you mourn the loss of everything and everyone you'd ever loved. It begins to rain and you can't tell what's tears and what's sky as you continue to try and rip him apart.

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! YOU KILLED HIM! YOU KILLED HIM!" You screech fighting against Silco as the flames raise higher burning the building and all that were inside to the ground. He simply hums softly pulling you tightly into his chest as you continue to weakly fight him. His fingers go through your tangled hair as they once did so long ago and your so overcome by the emotions flooding through you, you don't know what to do. You wanted your dad, you needed your dad. But Vander was gone.

As you cough and cry and choke on your words he keeps you to his vest facing away from the carnage, caring you to him despite your struggles. You remember him holding you like this as a child. You remember your laughter as he kissed your forehead after a bad day and shared a private joke with you. Your smile as he told crazy stories about him and your dad at dinner. The way he made you happy despite the hard times you were all going through. The sparkling blue green of his passionate eyes. But he betrayed you, he betrayed your father. He burned every bridge he had with your family and he became the monster your father wanted to protect you and the Undercity from.

Your fist fruitlessly pounds against his chest again but as he tucks you under his chin holding you close your knees give out as you lean into his grip sobbing. The air is so heavy with the smell of smoke and you taste ash on your tongue as it sticks to your wet hair and skin. The tears don't stop as you become soaked and the cries from you hold all your pain.

They're gone. Your families gone.

"I hate you..." You mumble voice breaking and cracking as you force your face further into his vest to make all the bad things go away. He simply continues to hum seeming unphased at your pitiful state and scathing comments.

Vander. Benzo. Powder. Mylo. Claggor. Violet. They were all gone. Everything. Everyone. Gone.

"... That's alright... because no matter what I love you." He whispers quietly as he keeps you close. Except for your screams and sobs and the background noise of the collapsing building as the fire burns brighter and higher it's quiet in Zaun. Just another silent tragedy that'd go unnoticed by Piltover and other Zaunites in the Undercity. "I'll take care of you now." He promises as he soothes your hair and kisses your forehead and you just fall against him wondering how it all went so wrong. How he could do this to you, today of all days. How you lost everything on a day that was supposed to be happy. You wish you'd taken that knife when he gifted it to you all those years ago and plunged it into him rather than the cake.

"I hate you." You repeat and he gives you the dagger casing but not the dagger itself.

You had given it to him that day, the day he died. He wouldn't take your dagger to the battle so you gave him the case to bring him good luck. Clutching it close just to have something familiar near, the velvet is worn and well loved.

"I know." He says softly as his blue and red eye stares at the blazing fire. He takes off his coat wrapping your shivering body into it and pulling you close as he goes to lead you away from this nightmare. "But someday you won't."

[cadaver-art]

*sniff… snorp..* UEEE UEUEEE HUEEEE EE JAYVIK

as you can tell i’m not very fond of drawing jayce :>

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Jinx x reader

So jinx is out doing whatever she’s doing and so reader is chilling with Vi (yes I’m delusional their all a happy family season 2 doesn’t even exist!) but reader and vi are listening to like Justin Bieber or whatever white girl song (they’ve both told jinx that they don’t listen to that type of music) so bout time jinx gets back vi and reader are full on jamming to Justin and as soon as reader saw jinx they sat down and put all the blame on vi legit saying “dang vi i didn’t know you liked this type of music.” With the smug grin on their face and vi just looks at reader dumbfounded as the reader causally didn’t just throw her under the bus.

Unbelievable

|| Jinx x nonbinary!reader

|| Warnings; fluffy, reader blames the music on Vi, Vi and reader jamming to Justin Bieber, brief swearing, short drabble

|| Summary; when Jinx leaves, Vi and reader put on their favourite guilty pleasures.

Requests closed!

Started; November 28th

Finished; November 28th

~~~

"Okay, she's gone." You returned to Vi, after having given your girlfriend a kiss goodbye. Jinx went off doing lord knows what, leaving you with her sister Vi for company. Which you were fine with. You and Vi got along pretty well, anyway. Vi grins when she heard you and immediately puts the music on. Justin Bieber playing through the speaker.

You and Vi were secret Justin fans. Secret because... how could you let anyone know? It would ruin your cool facades. Plus, you both already told Jinx that you hated that type of music. Not that Jinx really cared, she just kind of shrugged and went "okay? weirdos" when you kept saying you didn't like it. You and Vi were really overselling your points, so Jinx was a little sceptical but didn't question it.

It's been about an hour now, you and Vi were fully jamming along to Baby by Justin Bieber. Head banging, dancing and even singing. Just having a grand old time in your secret dance party. The door opened right as you and Vi had started the song, both singing the lyrics; "I know you love me! I know you care~" grinning like a couple of idiots. Until you caught onto the door being opened and immediately sat yourself down on the couch, looking flustered.

"Y/N, come on! It's the good- oh," Vi stopped when she noticed what you did. Seeing Jinx watching them with an amused expression.

"Don't like this music, huh?" She folded her arms, blowing her hair a bit from her face while she grinned. Jinx was enjoying this.

"It was all Vi. Dang, Vi I didn't know you like this type of music," you looked at with a smug smirk. Vi, meanwhile, looked at you completely dumbfounded and speechless. You did not just throw her under the bus. No, you didn't throw her. You tossed her.

Jinx laughed and skipped over to you, plopping herself down in your lap as the music continued to play. Her arms wrapped around you and she snugged right up, your arms easily finding their way around her waist. "Vi, I thought you liked rock music?" She asked her sister with a teasing look in her eyes.

Vi huffed and rolled her eyes, sticking the middle finger at you," fuck you." Though there was no real hate behind her words.

"Hey, don't be mean to them," Jinx pouted at Vi, clinging to you tighter, almost protectively so. Your grin became more smug at that and held her closer.

"Yeah, don't be mean," you repeated. Innocent act in full swing now.

"Unbelievable." Vi muttered, shutting the music off. She couldn't believe you just did that. And Jinx was taking your side? Vi knew Jinx had seen you dancing too. She really did just take any opportunity to mess with her, huh?

[shadowolf188]

They are going to destory your turret <3

Drew these two being cute to celebrate me and my partner's soon to be matching skins <333

[recent-rose]

hey i dont go here but jayce's speech about viktor in s2e9 isn't him saying 'u should never have tried to heal yourself, you were perfect the way u were x3' it was him saying that viktor's physical health never made him any less beautiful, never made him any less important, never made him any LESS, period. he wasn't saying viktor didn't need to pursue a cure for his ills like come on his motivation to invent hextech was to help people. to cure disease. viktor's first and foremost among them.

he said what he said because it was the thing viktor craved to hear most in his life, and that is why those were the words that punched through his defences even as the machine herald: jayce loved him wholly and unconditionally, healthy or ill, good or bad, human or inhuman. he would always be loved just the same.

[xremus-is-deadx]

VIKTOR IS CANONICALLY ASEXUAL MY HEART IS SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW

I'm so happy I could cryyyyyy, I love genuine representation of platonic love and devotion. The media has over-romantasided everything to the point where we expect romance where it may not be, and that can be quite damaging to aspec people, so combating that is so special to me and I could just go on and on honestly

This feels like an important edit to add: I am disabled. Physically disabled. Please do not try and tell me how disabled people should be feeling??? This post is my personal opinion as an aspec disabled person. I have been badly affected by over-romantacism and expectations of romance to the point where my own feelings have been denied for the sake of expectations of what platonic love should look like. Them being platonic within the show MADE ME HAPPY. If you aren't happy about it, that's cool, but this post isn't about you. It's about my own opinions and emotions... thank you

I'd also like to mention I have since been educated about to creator's lack of knowledge about asexuality, and this is not what I am supporting. I've always headcanoned Viktor as asexual, that is all

[miyuskye]

no red rose on your grave

you're mad if you thought I'd let you go

get your fingers out of my hair, you're gone

[alba1221141]

Mary Janes

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵

6

Jinx

“What an absolutely fucking tragic story.”

“Boy meets girl,” I say, flipping the book open and letting it smack the table with a loud thwack.

“They swap a couple of lines, maybe a little eye-fucking across the room, and then bam—marriage, murder, and melodrama. Honestly, Romeo and Juliet is just horny teenagers making bad decisions with a death toll. Kinda iconic, but also… pathetic.”

Y/N’s trying so hard not to laugh, but that little twitch at the corner of her mouth gives her away.

She glances down at her notebook like it’s suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world, but I know better.

I always know better.

“Come on, admit it,” I press, leaning closer.

“This whole thing is just Shakespeare projecting his wet dreams onto paper. I mean, would you throw yourself into a coffin for someone you just met?”

Y/N looks up, her face a little red, and gives me this look—half-exasperated, half-amused. “It’s supposed to be romantic,” she says, her tone just a little too patient.

“Oh, sure,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Nothing screams romance like poison and stab wounds. That’s hot. Super sexy.” I lean back in my chair, grinning.

“Although, I guess dying for someone is one hell of a flex. Bet Juliet was into some kinky shit.”

“Jinx!” she hisses, her eyes wide as she glances around the library, like the ghost of Shakespeare himself might pop out of the shelves and strike me down.

“What?” I ask, throwing my hands up.

“You think Romeo was all sweet talk and poetry? Nah, that guy was definitely whispering filthy shit to her under the balcony. Bet he was like, Juliet, you light up my world—now get on your-”

Y/N lets out this strangled noise, somewhere between a laugh and a groan, and covers her face with her hands. “You’re impossible,” she mutters.

But I can see her shoulders shaking.

“Impossible, but not wrong,” I say, leaning forward with a smirk.

“You know I’m right. Horny teens and bad decisions—they go hand in hand. Speaking of…” I waggle my eyebrows at her.

“You ever had someone wax poetic about you? Or, I don’t know, climb a fire escape to declare their undying love?”

“No,” she says firmly, her voice muffled behind her hands.

“Shame,” I say, tapping my chin. “You’re missing out. Although, honestly? If someone pulled that shit with me, I’d probably just drag them inside and—”

“Jinx!” she whisper-yells, her voice high-pitched and scandalized.

Her face is so red now I’m almost worried she’s going to combust.

Almost.

I grin, sitting back in my chair and crossing my arms. “What? I’m just saying. Life’s short. Might as well enjoy it. Or are you more of a ‘tragic, yearning stares from a distance’ type?”

She gives me a look.

The kind of look that says I’m pushing my luck.

But I catch the tiniest flicker of amusement in her eyes.

It’s faint.

But it’s there, and it’s enough to keep me going.

“Can we please focus?” she says, her voice trembling with suppressed laughter.

“Sure,” I say, picking up the book again and thumbing through the pages. “But I’m warning you now, I’m not letting Romeo off the hook for being the patron saint of bad decisions.”

Y/N leans back in her chair, pressing her lips together like she’s trying desperately not to laugh.

Her cheeks are pink, and there’s this quiet glow to her that tugs at something in my chest.

I ignore it.

“So,” I say, flipping the book open again with an exaggerated flourish.

“Are we supposed to write some revolutionary take on this mess, or is it just vibes and clichés? You’re the genius here, enlighten me.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s that little curve to her lips, the one that makes her whole face soften. “Themes,”

“We’re supposed to analyze the themes, connect them to modern relationships, and explain why the story is still relevant.”

“Relevant?” I snort, leaning back. “Oh, sure. Because every teenager I know is out here marrying strangers after one dance and dying for them two days later. So relatable.”

“You’re impossible,” she says, shaking her head, but her voice is warm, light, teasing.

“Thank you,” I say, grinning.

She picks up her pen again, her focus shifting back to the notebook in front of her.

Naturally, I lean over, because how could I not snoop, but she slams it shut before I can even get a glimpse.

“Oh, come on,” I groan, clutching my chest like she’s mortally wounded me. “What’s the big secret? Writing a love letter? A sonnet? A tragic ode to unrequited love?”

“It’s not a secret,” she says firmly, though the way her fingers tighten around the notebook tells a different story. “It’s just not finished.”

“Uh-huh.” I narrow my eyes at her, my grin sharp and unrelenting.

“You’re not secretly crushing on Romeo, are you? Or maybe…”

My voice drops, dripping with mock drama. “Maybe you’ve got your own Romeo? Someone you’re tragically pining for?”

Her cheeks turn a brilliant shade of crimson, and her eyes dart everywhere except at me.

“Oh my God,” I say, sitting up like I’ve just cracked the biggest mystery of the century. “You do! Who is it? Come on, spill. I need to know everything.”

“There’s no one!” she protests, but her voice is high-pitched, and her fingers fidget with the corner of her notebook.

“Liar,” I say, my grin turning downright devious.

I tap my chin like I’m deep in thought.

“Is it someone in our class? That broody guy who always acts like he’s too cool to care? Or…” I pause, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe it’s a girl?”

Her pen freezes mid-air.

For a second, she looks at me like I’ve uncovered her deepest, darkest secret.

Bingo.

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Y/N

I can feel my heart picking up its pace, a strange fluttering in my chest that has nothing to do with the subject matter at hand. Jinx’s words echo in my mind, her teasing lingering far longer than I’d like to admit. The way she looked at me, the mischievous grin on her face—it’s enough to make me squirm, but I won’t let her see that.

“No one,” I reply firmly, hoping the edge in my voice sounds more convincing than it feels. “I’m not—there’s just no one.”

She raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she leans back in her chair, crossing her arms with a soft chuckle. “Alright, if you say so.”

I focus on my notebook, flipping a page with deliberate care. The task at hand should be enough to keep me grounded, and yet the thought of her knowing something I’ve never fully acknowledged myself unsettles me. It feels as though she’s pierced a part of me I’m still figuring out, and that makes me more uncomfortable than I’m willing to admit.

Still, I refuse to let that show. Instead, I straighten up, refocusing on our assignment. “Regardless, Romeo and Juliet is still a farcical tragedy,” I begin, keeping my tone calm and collected, but there’s a subtle bite to it. “The impulsiveness, the poor decisions—it’s a pattern in a lot of Shakespeare’s works. It speaks to the nature of youth, to desire, rather than rational thought.”

Jinx snorts, clearly unimpressed. “Oh, sure, I’m sure that’s exactly what Shakespeare was going for. Desire, right? More like he was just a horny old man trying to sell sex on the page. No wonder those two idiots killed themselves over each other.”

I nod, careful to keep my composure. “Yes. Desire, more than love. They acted on passion rather than considering the consequences. Shakespeare’s portrayal of love is often hyperbolic, exaggerated to the point where it’s almost abs-"

I get cut off by another snicker from her followed by, "You damn nerd."

I pause mid-sentence, blinking at her. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she says, tilting her head, her grin widening. “You’re such a nerd, Y/N. Who even says ‘hyperbolic’ in casual conversation? It’s like you’re auditioning for a Shakespeare reboot.”

I huff, sitting up straighter. “It’s called having a vocabulary,” I reply, my tone clipped but teasing. “Maybe you should try it sometime.”

She gasps dramatically, clutching her chest like I’ve struck her through with a dagger. “Wow. Coming at me with the intellectual smackdown, huh? Careful, or I’ll start quoting Shakespeare back at you.”

“Please don’t,” I say quickly, holding up a hand like I’m warding off some impending disaster.

Jinx grins, leaning forward now, her elbows on the table. “Oh, but wouldn’t you love that? Imagine me up on a balcony, all, But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?” She pauses, fluttering her eyelashes for effect. “You’d swoon. Admit it.”

“I’d laugh,” I correct, refusing to give her the satisfaction. “And then I’d shut the window.”

She cackles, the sound sharp and chaotic, and it’s impossible not to smile. “Cold, Y/N. Ice cold. No wonder you don’t have a Romeo climbing fire escapes for you.”

I roll my eyes, flipping a page in the book to feign disinterest. “Not everyone needs a grand romantic gesture, Jinx. Some of us prefer substance over theatrics."

Jinx leans back in her chair, propping her boots up on the edge of the table like she owns the place. Her smirk is sharp, eyes glittering with mischief.

“C'mon, Y/N,” she drawls. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t want someone to show up, grand gesture and all, declaring undying devotion? Maybe a little dramatic fainting thrown in for good measure?”

I snort. “No. Definitely not. I’d find it mortifying.”

She tilts her head, feigning innocence. “What about some spicy poetry? Like, Oh, Y/N, your... uh, unparalleled intelligence leaves me trembling.” Her voice dips into a breathy almost smutty tone, and I roll my eyes.

“You’re insufferable,” I mutter, flipping through my notes.

“And you’re boring,” she fires back without missing a beat. “Where’s the fun, huh? You don’t think Juliet was secretly hoping Romeo would skip the iambic pentameter and just pin her to a wall?”

I look up, feeling my cheeks heat. “Jinx.”

“What?” she says, her grin downright wicked now. “I’m just saying. The whole woe is me, tragic romance thing might’ve been for show. Behind closed doors, she was probably like, Enough about the stars, Romeo, let’s talk about your sword.”

And I falter, my laughter bubbling up uncontrollably before bursting out so loud that it shatters the quiet of the library. The sound is obnoxious, and I can’t stop it, even though I know I should. Mrs. Clark, the poor librarian, scurries over to us, her face draining of color when she realizes it’s me—me—who caused the disturbance. Her eyes widen in horror, and I shrink back in my seat, wishing the floor would swallow me whole.

“Y/N,” Mrs. Clark says sharply, her voice quivering with disapproval, “This is a library. I expect more from you.”

I swallow, my throat tight, and I can barely meet her gaze. The silence that follows is suffocating, broken only by the scratch of Mrs. Clark’s pen as she writes us both a detention slip. “After school,” she mutters, her voice tight. She hands us the slips, one by one, and I want to crawl under the table, but I can't. Not with everyone staring.

I take the slip, my hands trembling, my face burning with the weight of the embarrassment. Jinx’s laughter, the one that started all this, has quieted, but there's still a mischievous glint in her eyes. At first, it seems like she's enjoying my discomfort, and I can't help but wish she’d be quiet for just a moment, let me process this in peace.

But then, her smirk fades. She glances at me, her expression softening as she catches the way my shoulders slump, the way I'm trembling. I try to blink back the tears threatening to spill, but they’re already in my eyes. It’s stupid, it’s just a detention, but the humiliation is unbearable.

Jinx doesn’t say anything at first, but I can feel the weight of her gaze on me as I struggle to hold back the tears. She slides out of her chair, slowly stepping closer, crouching down beside me with a quiet seriousness I’ve rarely seen from her. Her voice, when it comes, is low, almost soothing.

“Hey,” she says, her words gentle, like she’s trying to reach through the storm inside me. “It’s not that bad, okay? Detention's just... it's nothing. It’s temporary.”

I don’t respond, but I can feel the tears starting to burn in my eyes, and I just can't stop them. I keep my gaze fixed on the floor, trying to hide how I’m trembling.

Jinx doesn’t back away, though. Instead, she reaches out, her hand soft as it rests on my shoulder, the touch surprisingly warm and comforting. “Come on toots, let’s go,” she says, her voice so different from the usual teasing tone, like she’s saying it for me, not for her. “I’ll take you somewhere... just let’s get out of here, okay?”

I nod, my throat tight, and let her guide me out of the library. The hallways feel colder now, like everything around me is a reminder of how utterly humiliated I feel. But Jinx stays close, walking beside me, her presence steady and unwavering, like she’s determined not to let me fall apart alone.

She leads me into the girls’ bathroom, the door shutting quietly behind us. It’s quiet, the fluorescent lights buzzing faintly overhead, and for a moment, everything feels still. Jinx leans against the counter, watching me with a softness in her eyes that I’ve never seen before. She doesn’t say anything at first, just lets me breathe, lets the silence settle between us.

I break.

The tears come without warning, and I retreat to the corner, curling into myself, trying to make myself smaller. I press my hands to my face, desperate to hide the rawness of what I’m feeling. The sobs are quiet at first, but they soon escape in harsh, ragged breaths. The shame, the embarrassment—it’s overwhelming, suffocating. I feel completely exposed, fragile, and utterly out of control.

I don’t want her to see me like this. I don’t want anyone to. But she doesn’t leave.

There’s a quiet moment, just the sound of my breathing, of me trying to stifle the sobs. And then Jinx moves toward me, her steps slow, careful. She crouches down next to me, not trying to force anything, not speaking. She just watches me for a moment, her eyes filled with something tender, and then her hand reaches out. Her fingers brush through my hair, slow and soothing, the soft strokes almost enough to make me forget everything else.

"Shhh," she murmurs, her voice quiet, barely above a whisper. "It’s okay."

I can’t stop the tears. I don’t even try. But the sound of her voice, the feel of her fingers weaving through my hair, so gentle, so careful—it’s grounding. She doesn’t rush me, doesn’t tell me to stop crying. She just stays there, her touch like a balm for the rawness inside me.

After a long moment, she shifts again, her hand moving to wipe away the tears that have soaked my cheeks. Her fingers are gentle, each movement deliberate, as if she’s treating me like something fragile but important. Her touch is steady, patient, and it’s like she’s saying, without words, that I don’t have to hide. That I’m allowed to feel, to break.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿

Jinx

"C'mon, toots—it’s only an hour, alright? No big deal." I glance at Y/N, tucked behind me like a little puppy, her hand in mine.

It’s like she’s trying to disappear into the floor, and I don’t... I don’t know what to do with that.

I peek into the detention room, Mr. Wheeler’s already there, half asleep

Of course he is.

His glasses are dangling off his nose, like he forgot they even exist.

He’s ancient—like, fossil-level ancient—but whatever.

Doesn’t matter.

I yank the door open.

And there he is. Boy savior himself, sitting in the corner, all quiet and broody.

I waggle my free hand at him. Big, dumb wave. Like, hi, notice me!

Ekko’s head pops up.

His face twists into full-on confusion. Like, what the actual hell?

His eyes dart to Y/N behind me, all tucked in and quiet, and I can practically hear the gears in his head grinding.

I can see it.

The way his gaze softens, just a little, but then hardens again.

Like he’s trying to figure out how to act, what to say, how to breathe, maybe.

And I get it. I do.

Because once, a long time ago, it was the three of us.

Ekko. Y/N. Me.

Best friends.

And now?

Now we’re... this. Whatever this is. Unspoken crap hanging in the air like a bad smell.

After what happened—Vander’s death, Vi’s wrongful juvie sentence, and Silco taking me in...

Shit hit the fan.

Everything snapped.

The three of us? We used to be inseparable.

Me, Boy Savior, and Y/N. We were the kind of trio that people envied—always laughing, always plotting, always looking out for each other.

But after everything fell apart?

That trio was gone. Just... gone.

Ekko and I? We managed to reconcile. Somehow. It wasn’t easy, but we put the pieces back together.

Mostly.

But Y/N and him?

Never.

Whatever they had? Whatever we all had? It just crumbled. And they never found their way back to each other.

The air feels heavy. Like it’s pressing down on us.

Y/N’s hand squeezes mine. Tight. Too tight. Like she thinks if she lets go, she’ll just... vanish.

I glance back at her. Pale. Shaking. Her eyes darting everywhere except him.

Ekko.

The Boy Savior.

He’s staring at her like she’s a ghost. Or maybe a grenade. His jaw’s tight, hands fidgeting like he doesn’t know where to put them.

Say something.

Do something.

But he just sits there. Quiet. Staring.

It’s unbearable.

“Gonna sprain something, Boy Savior,” I snap, too loud, too sharp. “All that thinking’s dangerous, y’know.”

His head snaps up. Eyes narrow. “Jinx.”

That tone. Even. Calm. Like he’s the adult in the room.

Which he's not cause fucking Mr Wheeler's old ass is at the desk asleep now.

“What?” I throw my free hand up, grinning like a lunatic. “Just saying. You look like you’re trying to solve the meaning of life or some shit.”

Still nothing.

He glances at Y/N again.

And she flinches.

I can’t. I can’t with this.

“Seriously? We’re doing this? Now?” My voice comes out sharper than I mean. “It’s detention. Not a goddamn soap opera.”

“Jinx, stop.”

Her voice.

Soft. Cracked. Barely there.

I freeze. Look at her. She’s hiding behind me, eyes on the floor, her face red like she’s about to cry again.

My chest tightens.

Ekko’s watching us, his expression... weird. Guilty? Concerned? I can’t tell.

“Whatever,” I mutter, pulling Y/N further into the room. “Let’s just sit.”

I drag her to the far corner, away from him. Away from everything.

We sit. She tries to pull her hand away, but I don’t let go. Nope. Not happening.

“Uh-uh, toots,” I whisper. “You’re stuck with me.”

She doesn’t argue. Just wipes her face with her sleeve, all quiet and miserable.

Across the room, I can feel him watching.

Always watching.

And I hate it.

I hate all of this.

I hear a grunt and then...

"The hell is she in here for?"

Ekko’s voice slices through the tension like a blade.

Y/N stiffens beside me, her hand still in mine, like she’s trying to hide behind me.

“Y/N’s here because—” I start, but I don’t know how to finish that.

The fuck should I say?

“Because I laughed too loud,” Y/N mumbles, barely loud enough to hear.

Ekko blinks.

“You?” he says, voice full of disbelief.

“Apparently.” Y/N pulls her hand away from mine tucking them into her sleeves like she’s trying to hide.

I snort, rolling my eyes. “It’s ‘cause Mrs. Clark is a total cunt.”

Ekko’s eyes narrow.

His face hardens a little—like he’s getting pissed off, not at us, but at the absurdity of it. “She really gave you detention for that?” His voice drops, angry now. “For laughing? That’s... that’s fucking ridiculous.”

I nod, crossing my arms. “Told ya. Stupid.”

Y/N looks down, trying to disappear into the floor like she can avoid everything.

So, of course, I’m not having that.

I grab her hand. “C’mon, Y/N. Detention? Are you seriously gonna sit here like some sad sack when we could be out there making actual trouble?”

She gives me the side-eye, clearly hesitant. “I’m not sure—”

“Stop thinking, and just do,” I snap, tugging her toward the window. "I’m done with this place, and you should be too."

She hesitates again, her face a mix of nervousness and confusion. I roll my eyes. “Detention’s for losers, Y/N. And you’re not a loser. You’re a rebel just waiting to burst out.”

Ekko’s already halfway through the window, a grin plastered on his face like he’s got nothing better to do than burn this place to the ground. “C’mon, this is way better than sitting in that crap hole. You don’t want to miss it.”

I lean out the window, breathing in the night air like it’s the first breath of freedom I’ve had in ages. “You’re seriously gonna let this lame-ass detention keep you locked up? Or are you gonna live a little?”

She’s still stiff, unsure, but there’s a flicker in her eyes.

She’s fighting it.

I see it. She’s craving a reason to break the rules, but she’s scared.

I pull her closer, voice low but firm. “Look, it’s just one little jump, Y/N. What’s the worst that can happen? Get caught and get another detention? Big deal. You can always blame me. I’ve got it covered.”

Finally, after what feels like forever, she steps up.

Slowly at first, but then quicker.

She's in.

I laugh, watching her climb out. “That’s my girl,” I mutter, watching her face. There’s a spark in her now, and I can feel it.

She’s gonna love this.

We all slide out the window, landing in the cool night air.

Ekko shoots me a look, like we're all in on some big joke. “Now this is how you do it,” he says, grinning ear-to-ear.

Y/N looks at me, her face still a little stunned, but now she’s definitely feeling it. “I can’t believe we just did that,” she says, breathless.

“You bet your ass we did,” I say, with a grin that could cut glass.

“Best decision of your life. Welcome to the rebellion, toots.”

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

authors note: the friendship has begun to progress slightly, more where that came from ;)

please like and reblog!

[x-reader-things]

“I don’t want to fuck this up.”

Ekko x gn!reader [could be read as either romantic or platonic]

Summary ; In which you and Ekko help each other find your spark of creating again.

Requested? ; No. Self indulgent.

Warnings ; hurt / comfort, grief, a hint of survivors guilt but mostly just guilt in general, loss of a friend [unnamed uncanon character], not exactly a warning but hair is mentioned w / no specific hair type described.

Word count ; 2.3 k words

——————————————————————

You stare at the mural in front of you.

Tall and daunting. The tree grew around it like a shield, and the portraits were protected by the home built above in the branches.

Rain pattered on the ground. It had begun to soak through your clothes, dotted cold and unwelcoming on your cheeks. Slid off your head and yet caught into your hair at the same time. You were lucky it wasn’t pouring.

It smelled. A mix of petrichor and something putrid. No doubt from the smog that always left the sky over Zaun grey, and never clear enough for the sun to fully peak through. Such is the usual, for the undercity.

None of that mattered, though.

You were tasked - well, you took it upon yourself - to paint a portrait of another fallen Firelight. You were an artist like most of them were. You painted in your downtime for a while, up until recently.

The past year hadn’t been kind to you. Even with the Firelights being there, existing as a home. As a beacon of hope. For change. It wasn’t enough to fan the flames of the dimmed spark of creativity, that you longed to feel once again.

One failed mission after the next. An injury in your leg that had you benched for weeks. Chembarons were getting reckless, and enforcers were relentless - you feared when the other shoe would drop, when shit would hit the fan.

And then, the recent loss.

A close friend of yours.

The guilt was impudent. Almost impertinent. It seared into your bones like an angry flame that simmered and waited. Stars, you hated it so much. It never went away, no matter how much you tried to distract yourself by throwing yourself headfirst into work.

You took up more tasks despite the stinging twinge in your leg. You did more chores under the guise of letting fellow firelights take a break. Some meaningless and small, others bigger and more meaningful. Busying your mind so you didn’t have time to think too much.

And you took this task, especially, because you thought you could handle it.

You thought this would knock you out of your stupor, let you create again, out of respect for your fallen friend. Give yourself an outlet to let things be, let your mind be content, albeit in a melancholy way.

But the moment you stared into the blank space you were given to work with, all you could do was freeze.

One wrong move, and you’d fuck it up for good. One wrong stroke of a brush and a spray can would mess up the image of that friend.

And starting would ruin the blank space even more. It’d have marred the image you had in your mind, the one you needed to begin soon, lest you get sick from the rain. You didn’t want to mess it up.

You didn’t want to fuck it up.

You didn’t want to ruin the image of your friend.

The friend who you lost because the phantom pain in your leg grew too much to the point where it screwed up your footing on your hoverboard, made you swerve around an incoming bomb being thrown by a blue haired woman working for Silco, made you knock into your friend who lost their own balance and fell with a mind shattering scream, and then—

“Still haven’t started yet?”

Light thunder crackled in the distance, the rumbling amplified by your hyper vigilance.

Startled, you took in a sharp breath, and instantly turned to where you heard the voice from. You hadn’t even realized you were holding your breath in. Your lungs were grateful for the intake of air.

On the wooden balcony below you, you caught sight of the main firelight leader. Ekko.

Arms crossed, eyes tired, head tilted in the usual way he did while regarding something he needed to comprehend. The twisted locks of his hair moved with his head, vibrant against the greyed out colors surrounding you both. Usually, the grounds and the walls surrounding the firelight hideout were more colorful. Today, the rain made it more somber.

“I…”, you tried to form a viable excuse. Whatever your words were caught on the tip of your tongue, and refused to make themselves known. Your eyes flitted back to the blank part of the mural, and back to Ekko.

You wondered if he’d understand.

“I. Can’t.”

Your words were stilted. Hesitant. They cut through the rain like a knife. Unsettled in the air.

Ekko straightened up ever so slightly. He dipped his head the slightest bit lower, with a blink and a raise of his brows. His dark brown eyes urged you to continue.

“I-I can’t—“, you repeated, arms dropping to your sides in defeat. Your thoughts were buzzing in your mind and you couldn’t stop the words from flowing in time. They tumbled out in a jumble you swore on you could comprehend, and your arms gesticulated as you paced on the creaking wood below your feet.

“—every time I try, I just. Can’t. And I need to do this, I have to. I promised I would. And I can’t stop thinking about what happened but I need that to stop, I have to do this because they’re my friend and I can’t fuck this up, I can’t ruin the image of them. And I can’t fucking—“

You kicked a paint can at your feet. It soured over the ground below you, and felt to the grass well below the balconies.

“—bring myself to pick up a single one of these paint cans.”

Ekko’s eyes followed the paint can while it fell. It hit the dirt below, and the distant thump was drowned out by the rain. He clicked his tongue, and sighed with a shake of his head.

You were angry. You were grieving. It’s not like he could tell you to stop, nor would he ever. Any and every Firelight knew what it was like. Seeing you like this, though - abound with ideas, but with no spark, no drive anymore…

It reminded him too much of himself.

He was a leader. The leader of the Firelights. He focused his time on making their hideout a home. Bit by bit, he picked up the broken pieces of Zaun. Did his best to, at the very least. The chembarons, Silco and Shimmer proved difficult, along with Piltover.

With all that work, and all that responsibility, it left him restless. Left him exhausted. Even with the help of Scar, his second hand man, and many others within the community he created, it still weighed him down. Every time he opened that journal of his, without the need of making a blueprint for a new gadget to create, without the need for a map for a plan, the pages were blank.

When he tried, those pages were ripped. Those pages were full of jagged lines, or crinkled up and tossed to some corner of his messy room. He’d stare at those pages for hours, head in his hands, and wonder where the hell his spark went.

When did he lose it?

How?

Ekko took a few steps forward, and pulled himself up to the platform above. With a grunt, he heaved over the wooden railing as carefully as he could. The rain made everything they stood on wet, and prone to slip on. When he stood up, and dusted his hands off, he got a clear look at you.

You forced out a sound, a mix between a scoff and a wry laugh. Ran a hand over your head, and pushed water droplets flat onto your hair. Tore your eyes away from where the paint can used to be, and back to the mural. “Been stuck for months. And the one damn time I need to create, for them—“

You sharply gestured your arm out to the blank spot - an eerie crème colored sight compared to the rest of the wall, save for a few cracks - and your voice trembled. Water droplets fell from your hand as it flicked away from the top of your head.

“Hey—”, Ekko reached a hand out, and rested it against the opposite arm that stayed at your side. He grasped your elbow, and gave it a gentle tug. It tore your attention away from the wall, and back onto him. His voice was calm, almost somber. “— C’mon.”

He took in a breath, and his other hand made a breathe-in motion. You followed in suit, the smell of petrichor invading your nose, air filling your lungs. The tension in your shoulders went tighter.

After a few seconds, Ekko slowly breathed out. You followed him, and the tightness in your muscles faded ever so slightly.

Once Ekko was sure you were calm enough, he scoffed out a small breath, and the corners of his mouth twitched up in a wry sort of smile. It was small, but it was there.

“I… get what you mean”, he started. His voice was in a softer tone. One you didn’t hear as often, compared to his ‘Leader Voice’. It blended into the ambient noise of the rain, yet it was perfectly clear for you. Never broke the calm like the thunder did.

“When I got good enough, I started this—” Ekko looked at the wall behind you, an old ache settling into the small pinch between his brows. “—the mural. Thought that since i the skills, I could put this up. Thought that I could make something good, make something to remember them by, for...”

He sighed through his nose. You followed his gaze, and landed on the portraits you’ve known for years. Six portraits. The oldest ones. The same style, the same paint, the same process.

All were Ekko’s. The people he knew, before the Firelights had become The Firelights. Before he had to grow up as quick as he did.

“… your family?”, you asked tentatively, to complete the sentence for him. Ekko hummed in acknowledgment, and the smallest hint of a smile grew on his face.

“Yeah. My family.”, another sigh, and his shoulders dropped when he looked up at the rest of the mural. “Back then I created so much. Started this tradition, whenever we lost someone. Helped to create so many things for us. For the Firelights. A lot like you did, when you first started here, y’know? But now—”

Your eyes met again.

“—you can’t even look at a blank page anymore.”, you finished. He gently squeezed your elbow, and your hand had instinctively found its way to rest against his forearm.

“You get it”, he nods. “So…”

He let go of your arm to lean down and grab a paint can. Your hand lingered against the arm of his jacket, the outside of it already littered with dark spots from the rain. When Ekko stood up, he shook the spray can at his side. The mix bearing hit against tin of the can, and mixed the paint up enough to be properly used. After that, he took your hand off of his arm, and turned it so that your palm was facing up. He placed the paint can into your hand.

“—Let’s just… Take things slow. See how things go from there, alright?”

The cool metal of the can soaked into the skin of your hand. Your fingers curled over it, and tightened their grip.

“I don’t want to fuck this up.”, you whispered.

The very thought of starting the portrait you dreaded to creeped up from the back of your mind. The cold seeped back into your spine. You wouldn’t say it out loud but it terrified you to the very depths of your being.

“You won’t.” Ekko’s voice broke through the anxious haze that began to cloud your head again. His hand remained on the other side of the paint can in your hand. A promise that he wouldn’t leave you alone. “I got you. Besides—“

He gestured to your leg. A reference to the injury. “—standing up here alone for hours at a time won’t be good for that leg of yours. Figured you need someone to help when you need to rest it.”

You gave him a weak smile. A small thank you for the thought. He wasn’t wrong. Standing for that long would hurt. However…

“It’s gonna make it real, Ekko.”, the tremor in your voice returned. Warmth stung behind your eyes. Warm tears, against the cold air. “Losing them.”

The tremor in your voice this time had finally broken it into pieces.

“I know.”, Ekko murmured. He definitely knew. “It’s gonna hurt for a long time. But this—“

He waved his hand towards the mural. “—is the first step to healing. I’m gonna be right there with you.”

You nodded, and wiped a stray tear that fell from the corner of your eye.

“Alright.”

Ekko moved his hand away from the can, and you walked forward. You stepped on the creaking wood of the step stool in front of the mural. The intimidating blank stretch of the concrete felt way larger than it appeared. But when you took a deep breath, and caught the encouraging nod of Ekko when he went to your side a little ways away, the tension fell away.

The rain pattered calmly behind you.

The cold didn’t sting as deep. Neither did the guilt.

You shook the can at your side again, and raised it up to the wall. You sniffed once, and exhaled a shaky breath.

One spray after another.

One shape formed into an ear. Another, a nose. Soon the eyes.

And soon, a face. A little extra help from Ekko turned that face into a person. Your friend.

Nothing was marred, nothing was ruined.

And for once, the world seemed a little less cruel.

[biggest-vi-defender]

i rly wish i gave a fuck abt timebomb in S2 but i just don’t. that ship is so boring and uninteresting to me, and ep. 7 literally did absolutely nothing for me.

the entire time, i was just like “… so when is ekko going to go back to the main universe so we can actually continue the story instead of wasting it on this filler that doesn’t matter?” lmao. 😭

[trashscrounger]

the arcane creators really said the same thing as harlan lmao

yall out here writing painfully beautiful stories of transcendently intertwined souls dedicating their lives (and deaths) to each other in the most heartwrenching displays of love and dedication-

what? everybody thinks they're gay? noooo guys they're just friends, pals, bros, dudes being guys straightly 😌

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

it would be actually so rad if you did jinx x buff!reader headcanons.

i just think she would be so silly about it 🥰

(this is basically us in my DR and she is def silly about it)

Jinx x Buff!Reader

Of she is definitely so giddy and so excited

She's constantly asking questions on why, how and when did you get so buff

She really likes it and finds it fun

She's not that buff herself but girl is strong

She has to be by carrying around her shit on the daily but she gets that from that, she doesn't lift or anything

If you do lift weights or work out to maintain the muscles she is just admiring

And teasing the whole time and flirting

Like if you're lifting weights she'll just walk in, stare with the smuggest smile on her face at all

She doesn't care who sees and will walk up behind you and hug you from behind

She does it to feel your stomach as well because she just loves it so much

Constantly when laying in bed is squeezing your arms or tracing the muscles she can see

It's not a sexual thing, just a more admiring thing she does

She just finds it very fun and cool, and you remind her a bit of someone

She really likes the feeling of when you hug her and she feels so safe because your arms are big, they feel safe and they're strong

She loves the hugs and behind held or cuddling with you and she can just feel safe like that

She is so comfortable around you and especially when walking around

There are still a few people who try her, flirt or say stuff to her about her clothes, everything or just who she is

She loves the look on their face when they see you standing behind her just looking all buff

She is constantly flirting

"Hey hotstuff, came here all the way for me?"

She is literally like a school girl with a crush for the first time and flirts like you're not even together

Especially if you're like one of those buff ass and intimidating people but in reality you're shy and get flustered

If you're like that she upps the flirting and the touching just to see you blush

She loves being carried by you, bridal style or thrown over your shoulder

She has so much fun and is so happy

She's laughing, she's smiling and is just thrilled

She is jumping on your back and all

For fun shell run up to you and yell for you to catch here and see if you do

She knows you will because you're strong enough and because she wants a hug

She pretends her arms hurt and has you carry shit for her

She loves seeing your muscles flex and will just smile all sneaky and cover her mouth and giggle

It's so funny to see

She draws on your muscles

It's a given, she once drew eyes and a mustache on your arm and named it Muscleton

You have no way out of this because she redraws him everytime he fades away

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@FensDelight @kaorussgf @miranexx

[arcanetoymakerau]

FIIIIIIIIIIIIINALLY! The last chapter of Act 1 of this AU is out!

LINK:

Don't forget to leave a comment, please!

With this, we conclude the rework! Now, we can continue the story from where we stopped. I'll just review the chapters that have already been posted first, but that shouldn't take too long (hopefully).

The tag list is in the comment section!

[bag-of-bones-and-hearts]

reuniting/how to hug

Sevika realizes she lost “the idgaf war” and doesnt know how to hug back

[itsmebytch001]

I’m so happy you would write for arcane!! I love the fanfic that you write! So I can’t wait to read this!! ❤️❤️❤️ (I’m shaking, help me)

Can you right a platonic yandere Silco and jinx, with a similar reader to the “Smoking it away” reader?

-🥄

Sure, Spoon person. I LOVE Arcane SM So thank you for this!

Jinx and Silco had taken you in when you were young, maybe nine. Jinx had lived with Silco for not long now and hadn't settled but found you, a street kids precence soothing, she would seek you out to play together and bring you back to Silcos home to eat and sleep. And at some point you simply didn't really leave, Silco accepted you though you were never as close to him as he and Jinx were. And you weren't really as extrodanary as Jinx was, you didn't have any extensive skill in explosives, or war and though it was never said, you did feel useless, like dead weight. so you fought you'd find a way around it, a way sourced to you in the city, a constant prescene and a unstopping force in Zaun that turned average men in to beats and rage and later deform them and shrivel them up into only skin and bone, so you sourced it out, behind Silco and Jinx back of course.

So you started Micro dosing, just a few drops at any given time where you wanted to feel that pep of energy, you would find some where private, like your room that wasn't really private since Jinx would enter whenever she liked, or sometimes would sleep in your bed without you knowing and take out that one vile in your left pocket that you had been working on for the last few weeks, press the top of the vile on your finer, and then take that drop or purple liquid and press it on your tongue to feel that rush, that feeling of elecitricty running down from your mouth and across your spine setting you free from your uselessness.

And though Jinx may not have noticed, Sevika did.

She noticed the shakes, the paranoid looks around the room and massive weight loss, and she thought to tell Jinx, not to be kind, but to be a bit cruel. So she entered Jinx's lair, a extremely unusual occaronace, Jinx didn't notice her until she sat down next to her.

Jinx: "...Sevika?"

Sevika: "Hey"

Jinx: "...Hey? What brings you to by humble abode huh?"

Sevika: "I see Y/n's not here, you know where she is?"

Jinx: "No, but she's probably in her room or just hanging round Silco, Y'know, why?"

Sevika: "You notice anything...different about her recently?"

Jinx: "Youre being reeaally criptic Sevika, I don't like that" She said leaning away from her with her frog goggles.

Sevika: "She's always cold, always shaking, acting strangely don't ya think"

Jinx: "What are you getting at?"

Sevika: "I think she's using, Jinx"

Jinx: "Using, like shimmer?"

Sevika: "She's got all the signs of microdosing"

Jinx: "HA! You gotta be kidding, she would never do something like that with out telling me!"

Sevika: "Well maybe you two aren't as close as you think

Jinx: "Excuse me?" She said standing up, and stepping up to Sevika.

Sevika: "I'm just saying, if you paid attention you would see she's falling off, and you two were as close as you think, she would tell you that she's using"

Jinx: "Get the fuck out"

And so she did, she left without another word as Jinx stood motionless in her lair, glaring out into the darkness over analizing every single recent interaction.

Jinx: "She's not using, she' s just saying that to be cruel" but what if she is

Jinx: "No, NO! I would notice! I know what using shimmer looks like, I WOULD KNOW" so why is she avoiding you?

Jinx: "Avoding me? She's not avoiding me she's just busy! Why would she be using any ways, she has everything she could ever need, she has me! and she would never do that to me, and definetley not behind my back! hahah, No no no that's silly" What if she ends up like those bums down in the gutter

Jinx: "No, No that's not gonna happen baecuse she's NOT using!" What if she ends up like vander

Jinx: "NO!" She screamed pulling at her braids.

Maybe she's lying to you, maybe she's using to escape you maybe she wants to leave, she probably rather be high than with you

Jinx: "SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" She shriked into the void.

She'll be one of those scroungers begging for food shrivled and dying, covered in filth and all baecuse of you.

Jinx: "NO NO NO! No NO NO" She pulled herself into the fetal position rocking back and fourth so sooth the terrible thoughts again and again, she had to talk to Silco about it.

And so, later that day she bursted into his office, sitting on his desk while his chair faced her, looking out the window.

Jinx: " Sevika came to see me today"

Silco:"...At your lair? odd, Why?"

Jinx: "She said...She said Y/n was...microdosing"

Silco: "Shimmer?"

Jinx: "Yeah shimmer what else?! And I was like She's not using that's silly and she was like 'maybe your not as close as you think you are' You know all Sevika like so I-"

Silco: "Jinx, your starting one of your ramblings again"

Jinx: "Oh Yeah yeah sorry" She giggled to herself

Jinx: "Have you noticed anything off about her recently?"

Silco: "Well, she is spending less time with us than usual, I suppose it is possible"

Jinx: "But she wouldn't...She wouldn't!"

Silco: "Jinx, Instead of spinning yourself into a frenzie, go check her room for anything susbicious, anything strange"

Jinx: "But...What if I find something?" She whispered.

Silco: "we'll figure it out"

So Jinx found herself in your room scanning over how messy it was, how much dust had collected and how the windows where musted over, as she began to go through your wardrobe, throwing out you clothes onto the bed until it was bare, going through all your draws and vanity until she had basically destroyed the place with all your things stroon about the room. She huffed to herself wondering where, if not here it could be, until she was the glint in the corner of her eye, she swivled around to the air vent where something shined in the reflection of the sun. Jinx, being for to short to simply grab it pushed your vanity to step on inorder to open the vent to find a small metal lock box, standing back down onto the floor the took a hair pin out and jimmied the lock only to reveal what she despratley wanted not be there.

Two Vials of shimmer, she felt herself shake with rage and frustration, why would you do this, for how long were you doing this? In a flip act of rage she threw the box at the wall, casusing it to dent, holding the two vials in one hand so tightly they might shatter in her hand.

Now what are you going to do?

Hours later Jinx had found you back in the back room of that Last Drop like you often were, she heard you shuffling about as she slowly turned the handle to the room, with your back facing her as she entered silently as she watched silently while you again as so many times before took your half used vial, unscrewed the vial pressed the end onto your finger to rub the resedue onto your togue, but not before she stalked you from behind and placed a hand on your shoulder.

Jinx: "What are you doing?" She asked in her childishly calm voice.

Y/n: "I- I I'm Just, Jinx I-"

Jinx: "Oh Y/n" She sighed before whacking you over the head with her rifle, knocking you out.

Eventually when you woke, you found yourself in your bed, but not in your room...

You sat up to realise you were in Jinx's lair with your bed laying on one of the giant fan panneles, looking over at Jinx welding something with the sparks flying out in all directions.

Y/n: "Jinx?"

Jinx swiveled round in her stool smiling at you.

Jinx: "Your awake! I was worried maybe I hit you a bit to hard haha"

Y/n: "I- How did you"

Jinx: "So I found your stash"

Y/n: "Oh"

Jinx: "You thought you could hide that from me?"

Y/n: "Jinx I"

Jinx: "Ssssshh" She angrily shushed you, skipping over to your bed that had misteroulsy moved from your bed to here, flopping onto the covers climbing over you to trap you between the bed and her, staring you down.

Jinx: "How long have you been lying to me?"

Y/n: "Jinx please I"

Jinx: "nu uh, No No no" She placed her her finger over your lips.

Jinx: "No More talking, all you've done is lie to me" You winced ash she said it so aggressivly spit was coming onto your face.

Jinx: "Why would you do this? Why would you do this to me?! This is so selfish, I should have known, I don't know why I didn't see it, you were acting all sketch and going all quite and odd, I should have seen"

Y/n: "Jinx, I-I was only using so I could be..."

Jinx: "So you could what?"

Y/n: "I just wanted to feel strong, you know, like you"

...

Jinx: "HA! That's funny toots" She held your face squishing your cheeks together into a kissy face.

Jinx: "It's beacuse you want to leave me, you would rather get high than spend time with me!"

She wants to leave you

Jinx: "Shut UP!" she screamed to the left of her.

Y/n: "Jinx, I want to go back to my room"

Jinx: "This is your room now, why do ya think I had Sevika move your bed here, Silco will get his cronies to bring the rest of your stuff soon enough"

Y/n: "What?"

Jinx: "I can't be having you alone if I can't trust you, can I?"

GIVE ME MOOOOORE SUGGESTIONS NEOOOOOWWWW!"

[whoyoucallinpinheaddirtydan]

ngl Jayce and Viktor's story arc is a chef's kiss would it be weird for me to see them as platonic soulmates? I wish I had a bond and a soulmate ship like this 😭