#sheet metal assembly

[metalmanauto]

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[yandere-daydreams]

tw - unhealthy relationships, mentions of gore/human experimentation, forced marriage. written for a very lovely anonymous commissioner.

Recently, all your mornings had started the same way: ten or so feet below the ground, buried under the satin sheets of an otherwise empty bed in a stone chamber decorated with all the love and tenderness of a hospital room, freshly cleaned after the death of its last occupant.

Blearily, you stumbled out of bed, grimacing at the feeling of the cold, rough floor against your bare feet. Temperatures in Snezhnaya rarely rose above freezing, and while your husband didn’t seem to mind the cold, you weren’t so resilient – shrugging on your heaviest robe before so much as opening your eyes. A mug of coffee was clumsily assembled in your minimalistic kitchenette (a feature you insisted on, after being forced to share a communal ice chest with one of his more dissection-focused segments), then a cup of tea; herbal and rich, a blend from Sumeru he had imported every few months. For as many years as you’d been with Zandik, you’d never been able to make sense of what he considered worth his time and what he disregarded as frivolous wastes of effort and mora. You supposed you could only be thankful you fell into the former group, lest your body be the next to adorn his vivisection table.

Once you’d managed to shake the chill and bring yourself to a state of near-consciousness, you stumbled out of your bedroom and into the corridor, ignoring the curious looks of young researchers and patrolling soldiers and shrugging open the steel door at the end of the hall. The smell of rot and preservatives hit you as soon as you stepped into Zandik’s personal laboratory, but your eyes only glazed over the dark puddles splattered across the floor, the amorphous mass covered with a white sheet and laid across a metal table before landing on your husband – slumped over his desk, his face buried in his arms and ink staining his fingertips, his left cheek. With a sigh, you made your way to his side, placing both mugs on the edge of his desk and resting your hands on his shoulders. Letting your eyes fall shut, you lowered yourself to his height, resting your lips against the top of his head and only pulling away when he began to stir.

He'd always been a light sleeper (in comparison to you, at least), and it’d never taken much to rouse him. You straightened your back and as if on cue, he bolted upward, gaze darting to the door, then his operation table, then you – where it would stay. A slight grin pulled at the corner of his lips as he pushed his chair away from his desk and tapped his leg, and without protest, you climbed into his lap; straddling his thighs and burying your face in the crook of his neck. One of his hands found its way to your hip while the other took to rubbing small, slow circles into your back. You waited for him to settle underneath you before breaking the silence. “I want to go home.”

Home, meaning the gothic, looming mansion you usually resided in when he wasn’t working out of one of the Fatui’s countless underground facilities or traveling abroad. It was also dark and drafty and a far cry from your previous home, the home he’d taken you away from the day he married you, but you’d been able to decorate it to your preferences and you didn’t need to go through ten of his soldiers just to step outside. He hummed, the sound passive and dismissive, and you frowned into his shoulder, nudging gently at his chest. “I’m serious, Zandik. Everything smells like blood and you haven’t come to bed in days. Being around all these chemicals is going to be the death of me – that is, if boredom doesn’t do the job first.”

Another hum, this one slightly more thoughtful. “You know I would pluck the stars from the sky for you,” he started, his voice still low and coarse with sleep. “But I am here on the Tsaritsa’s orders. Are you sure you’d have me test the good will of an archon for something so mundane?”

“Yes.” You’d seen him butcher orphans and burn villages to the ground. If he was still in his goddess’ good graces after so many centuries of relentless carnage, you were sure she wouldn’t mind a sudden relocation. “There’s nothing you do here that you couldn’t do in your own laboratory.” You thought for a moment, then added, “Unless you’ve decided that you love your archon more than you love me.”

His smile faltered, something possessive and pointed catching in his eyes. His grip on you tightened, but he recovered quickly, letting out an airy chuckle as he bowed his head and nuzzled mindlessly into the dip of your shoulder. “Two more weeks,” he promised. “Then, I’ll send you home – one way or another.”

“One more week.” You sat up, cupping his face and forcing him to meet your eyes. “Or I start spitting in your tea.”

“One more week if you start spitting in my tea.”

“You’re a vile, repugnant little man.” You leaned forward, kissing his cheek. “Deal.”

You spend the rest of that day lounging across the velvet-cushioned loveseat in the corner of his lab, skimming through your dozenth pulpy romance novel and watching your husband dismember corpses with a vigor you hadn’t seen since the first days of your marriage.

[st4rlvr]

Home sweet chaos || BCN

The apartment was quiet except for the muffled sounds of cardboard being ripped open and metal tools clinking against each other. Sunlight filtered through the half-assembled blinds, illuminating the chaos scattered across the living room floor: screws, wood panels, and instruction sheets that might as well have been in another language.

“Are you sure it’s supposed to look like that?” Y/N asked, brow furrowed as they squinted at the lopsided bookshelf Chan had been working on for the past hour.

Chan sat cross-legged on the floor, tool in hand, staring at the bookshelf as though it had personally betrayed him. His curls were already falling into his eyes, and there was a smudge of something—probably grease—on his cheek. “Of course! It’s all part of the process, Y/N. Trust me, I’ve got this.”

“You said that an hour ago, and yet…” Y/N trailed off, giving the uneven bookshelf another pointed look.

Chan sighed dramatically, flopping back onto the carpet with a thud. “Okay, fine. Maybe I don’t ‘got this.’” He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a breathless laugh. “Building furniture is harder than I thought.”

Y/N chuckled, setting down the screwdriver they’d been holding. “So you’re telling me you’re a music producer, you can layer a hundred sounds and beats into a perfect track, but you can’t build a shelf?”

Chan groaned, covering his face. “Why are you attacking me in my own home?”

“Our home,” Y/N corrected with a grin. They crawled over to sit beside him on the floor, nudging his shoulder gently. “We’ll figure it out. Together. That’s kind of the whole point of this, right?”

He peeked through his fingers at them, his smile softening as he dropped his hands. “Yeah. Together.”

The two of them eventually managed to get the bookshelf upright—though they agreed it was safest to leave it in the corner where no one could touch it—and decided to abandon the idea of building the rest of the furniture for the day. Exhausted and covered in sweat, they both sat in the middle of the empty living room, surrounded by cardboard boxes.

“I’ll go grab food,” Chan said suddenly, pushing himself to his feet. “You stay here and relax. I’ll be quick.”

Before Y/N could argue, Chan was already halfway out the door, leaving them alone in the midst of the semi-unpacked apartment. They flopped back onto the floor, staring up at the ceiling with a sigh, marveling at how surreal it felt to call this place home.

When Chan returned, he was carrying two plastic bags of takeout, the smell wafting through the room instantly. “I come bearing gifts!” he announced triumphantly.

Y/N sat up eagerly, their stomach rumbling at the thought of food. “You’re the best.”

“I know,” Chan replied with a grin, settling onto the floor beside them. They spread out the food between them—containers of rice, noodles, and some dumplings that Chan had declared were “non-negotiable.”

Neither of them bothered with plates. Instead, they ate straight from the containers, sitting cross-legged on the hardwood floor, laughing about how this would be a core memory one day.

“It’s kind of perfect, though,” Y/N said between bites. “Even if the bookshelf is wonky and we’re eating on the floor.”

Chan smiled at them, chopsticks paused midair. “Yeah. It’s ours. That’s all that matters.”

There was something about the way he said it—simple and soft, but filled with meaning. The boxes and unfinished furniture didn’t matter. Neither did the mess or the chaos. It was theirs.

Chan nudged Y/N’s knee playfully. “Hey, next weekend, we’ll actually finish the rest of the furniture.”

“Or you’ll just give up halfway through again,” Y/N teased, earning a playful glare from him.

“Hey! I’m learning. Give me a break,” Chan laughed, shaking his head.

They both fell into a comfortable silence after that, the food slowly disappearing between them as the last bit of sunlight faded outside. The apartment still didn’t feel quite like home—yet. But sitting there, side by side on the floor, laughing over bad furniture-building skills and sharing takeout, Y/N realized it didn’t matter.

It already felt like home because Chan was there.

[noxturnalmoth]

What Could Have Been

Summary: Silco, the Eye of Zaun, the Industrialist, was first and foremost a son of Zaun who wanted his motherland free. After an altercation in which his adopted daughter shot him in a fit of rage, he is left dying while the world goes on without him. His life's work and ideals soon trampled to nothing as his memory fades from the world. But what if he was saved?

Warnings: Canon violence

Word Count: 15, 463

Masterlist: here

Chapter 6 - Catharsis and Ruination

After the meeting with Sevika, Silco had been more relaxed than you've ever seen him. A huge weight taken off of his shoulder after having poured all of his feelings out, and also at knowing his daughter was safe and cared for, building a life for herself out of the noise and healing. And that in turn made you so very happy, because his happiness was becoming your number one priority as time passed while sharing your life with him. Which was probably because of your ever growing feelings, but you'd ignore these until Silco inevitably notices.

Until he notices the stares, lengthening in duration, and the adoration coating each and everyone of them.

But how could you not admire him, not only his beauty but his strength as he carries your heavy components to spare you the extra work and save you time. His resilience, still managing to stand up and live even after all that he had survived, still managing to fight for what he thought was right. How controlled and composed he could be even if he was possessed by an all consuming storm, deep down in the abysses he refused to show anyone. But what you loved the most was how he placed himself in your hands when he was broken, choosing to heal instead of continue his stubborn and desperate ways. Broken shards of crystal put so gently in your hands, cutting you as you pieced him back together, but you didn't mind.

Not when he grew more gentle and kind, letting you peek at who Silco truly was. Not when your shared banter soothed your hard days, not when you proudly executed your plans of working Piltover's forces to the ground. Especially not when you fell asleep to his warmth in your bed, cradling you, hands brushing your hair.

But you had to hide it. For his sake.

He was rebuilding himself, a new life opening itself to him. And one day, he'd probably want his own space, be his own man without your help. And as much as it hurt, you resigned yourself to swallow it all down because being a friend was all you could really hope for, you were only a transitory period after all.

And if that's what you'd have to be, then so be it.

As the constant clinking of your hammer dictated the rhythm of your day, you find yourself working later than usual, letting Silco leave before you like many nights for the past two weeks. Creating molds, writing blueprints to carve intricate designs on metal, soldering articulations and mechanisms to escape the confines of your own mind, all to loud with infatuation.

Now that your dear friend isn't here the air is easier to breathe, mind clearer for but a moment before it spirals again. Both distance and proximity not helping with the tumultuous waters clashing in your heart.

The hammer is harshly brought down on the anvil, metal clashing against metal and shaping the red hot sheet. Your form leaning over it panting from the heat, exhertion and the constant emotional turmoil you've been facing for months now.

Sevika's arm was coming together, balanced to her body weight and size unlike the one Jinx had made her, the oxydized copper and dark, gunmetal steel entertwining in the distinct Zaunite designs you've grown up with. Harsh and industrial in their material and edges, jutting forward to cut at anything approaching, yet organic in shape, gothic and intricate.

It was nearly done, the outer plating was completed and only needed to be covered in the metal lace you've spent so many sleepless nights working on. The clawed fingers only needed to be assembled, the wrist joint soon to be attached while the plating of each knuckle is doubled with more lattice.

"You should rest."

Your body tenses at the touch on your shoulder as you direct the chisel currently in your hand towards the noise, quick and calculated although the movement itself was instinctual.

"Fuck, Silco. Give a little warning next time."

"I did, called out to you but you were unresponsive. I get that you want to help Sevika with her arm but something else is at play here."

His form approaches, looking at you with soft worry, as if scared you'd run away.

"Sorry, I've been in my head a lot lately."

"I've noticed, do you want to talk?"

You grab your soldering machine, your goggles brought down on your face by your other hand as sparks begin to fly about, fireworks in the palms of your hands as you pull the arm together.

"I guess that with the thing at Vander's statue and the talk with Sevika I've been...Realizing how close we're getting to a full on civil war."

"Does it frighten you?"

"Only a fool would feel no fear at something like this."

Your voice mumbles as joints, plates and intricate metal lace are interwoven, pieced together like a puzzle. And for a while it was silent, your thoughts sinking back into the dark recesses of your mind.

"And what's this?"

You turn around to find Silco holding a blueprint, one you've made with the hex crystal in mind. A circular pedestal with a round indent at the center, some grooves leading from it to the arches creating a dome over the contraption. A crank and button were linked to the main component on a smaller rectangular piece, to activate the machine and change the positions of each of the six wheels. On each of those were mirrors, small and circular in shape, that would be engraved with a rune yet you knew not which one just yet. Held up by four long pins was a cylindrical sheath, meant for a shimmer vial, placed right above the hex crystal's resting place.

"It's for Samira, gave her the arcane stone we found and she said she could maybe use it for treatments because it seems to help with certain mollecules. So I'm helping her channel it."

He nods, thumbs caressing the paper as he observed each intricacies, your writing thoroughly analyzed as he whispered each word scratched on the large page.

"Did you get started on it?"

You nod looking towards the side table and Silco walks towards it, the sheet covering the intricate machine soon taken off to reveal it half done.

"I just need to solder the parts together and find the right runes. Unfortunately I know no one capable of helping and going topside would be bad right now, especially since Jayce Talis disappeared and he was the only one capable of helping."

You mumble, the arm slowly yet surely taking shape between your expert hands. The calouses covering them being followed my more recent scars, some of them from today, crusted over by blood, soot and sweat.

"Two weeks."

You turn to Silco confused, the cloth at your hip used to wipe your sweaty face as he walks towards you, pushing your goggles up.

"You've been working, going on missions and doing all of this for two weeks."

"I'm fine."

"You look dreary. Do not lie to me."

You sigh as he grabs your chin, dehydrated and exhausted you couldn't help your head from lolling just a bit, leaning into his warm touch.

"Let me finish this at least, please Silco. I just need to put the elbow pieces together."

He huffs a soft breath, your chin freed from his grasp as he pulls your goggles back over your eyes, pushing your sweaty hair back from your forehead afterwards. His head nods to your workspace, prompting you to finish the soldering, moving the arm around and bending every joint to see if everything was up to standard. And with a groan you stretch, arms and back popping before you rip your goggles way, letting them hang around your neck.

"Let's go home, you grump."

"I'm only a grump because you're working too hard."

"Now, you're one to talk Mr.I've been a revolutionary since my teen years."

"Dove."

His voice thunders dangerously and you freeze in the doorway, shaking your head to get your control back yet grateful that the colored neon lights of Zaun hide the red flush of your face. You begin walking as he closes up, long strides easily letting him catch up with you

"What? I finished Sevika's arm, I'll have less work now."

"Now." He points out. "It still doesn't erase the fact you've spent even your days off at work. What about this project you told me about?"

"It's a part of it. The new contraption I mean. There are so many diseases stemming from Piltover's chemicals we could heal with something like that, Silco. Sump resistant plants are needed, and moss doesn't nearly make enough sap. But with enough of it and this crystal, we could create a healthcare system for Zaun."

"You are resting this weekend, I will not take no for an answer."

"I have to see Sami-"

"She can wait."

Silco's tone was flat, indicated he would indeed not accept any debate on his choice. When you two get to bed that night it feels heavy, the ever growing sentimentality you feel for him, your exhaustion overtaking you as you enter his embrace. You didn't even have time to caress his hair before you were dragged to the abyss of sleep, drowning in nightmares that felt more and more distant as Silco held you.

"Have you been to the northern fissures?"

He asks when you nearly crawl out of bed and to the table in your small kitchen, the bed way too good after barely sleeping for the past two weeks. Your already small nights smaller and your days off spent slaving away at the forge.

The only answer he gets is an unceremonial grunt as you slide in your chair, your breakfast soon put in front of you.

"Is that a no or a yes?"

"No." You sigh happily as you savour the flatbread and sautéed squid, spiced and seasoned to perfection as always. "I wasn't here when they were still open."

"Would you like to go?"

His question surprises you and you think before swallowing your bite with coffee, your cup prepared to your taste. Your eating habits engrained within Silco's clever mind from the time you two spent together.

"I'm up for it." And before your next question can pass the threshold of your lips realization lights your eyes up like the neons illuminating Zaun. "That's where you worked before, wasn't it?"

"Indeed."

"And you want me to come?"

"Not just to the mines. It's more...a specific place within it."

"An old haunt?"

He huffs softly, head bouncing in a soft nod while his hair follows the movement, untied and silky. And although you've always kept yourself from being intimate unless it was when the sun came down, in the alcove or in your bed, today your body moved before you could scold yourself into staying still. Body leaning forward held by your left hand, the right one brushing through his hair before pulling it behind his ear. And he looks at you like you brought air filtration to Zaun, your own lip worried between your teeth as you tried to keep his hair from falling back, making it as perfect as you could, his silence broken when he clears his throat.

"Something like that, yes."

He sounds breathless and you tilt your head in confusion before he nods to your plate, his good eye back to its usual half lidded nonchalance while he motions to your cooling breakfast.

"Sure, why not. Last time you brought me to a special spot to you we became friends, I wonder what will happen now."

You smile up to him, cheeks full of food while he scoffs, entertwining his hands as his elbows hold his arms up on the table and his face is hidden behind them, his eyes looking to the side.

"It's not that special."

He nearly mumbles, sound smothered by his hands.

"Is that place special to you?"

"Very."

"Then it is that special. And I'm glad you see me as worthy enough to share such an important place."

Silence settles between the two of you and you point to his plate the same way he had pointed to yours.

"You are."

Rings after a while, the sound bouncing off the walls.

"What?"

"Worthy. You are worthy, to me."

Your eyes gloss over, goosebumps lifting each hairs on your body, and your heart pumps your blood at inhuman speeds within your veins, skin becoming too hot too quickly. Your thoughts stopped and freezed into place, soon enough becoming blank. The small sweet sentence enough to force your whole being into a reboot for the exception of your heart, which was thrumming in elation at the words.

The only thing you can answer with, a smile stretching across your face slowly, before you two leave is something small and quiet. Demure enough in its dictation and cadence that it would have sounded like the Janna's blessing cutting through Zaun's narrow streets if it weren't for the utter silence in the room.

"You're worthy to me too."

The trek there was spent in relative silence, the busy streets serving as back drop until the noise faded into mechanical whirrs and soft whistling. The structures of the northern fissures abandonned and the houses less populated and quieter the closer you got to the mines.

The strong smell of metal, rust and humidity dampening your senses as you enter the dark cave, taking apart some planks and pulling them back in place, the light from outside disappearing and leaving you and Silco in the dark. That's when you jump, a loud clap bouncing off of the walls and illuminating the stone path, your friend looking at you smugly.

"What?" The light dims again and this time you clap, revelling in the way the fungi around you glow, crouching to pat one in wonder. "I've never seen those before!"

Silco is right behind you, bending at the waist to look over your shoulder, as he chuckles, voice sweet and gravelly as he looks fondly to the mine's tunnel.

"They only grow in the mines, the chemicals bond with some of the metals here and fungi gain this bioluminescent quality to them."

You pick a few of the big bulbous mushrooms and put them in your satchel, wiping your now slimy hands on yourself while Silco sighs.

"What? I need to bring back more plant samples to Samira and those seem full of sap. I can't work on y-" You stumble over your words quickly. "-the first type of antidote, without a good enough amount of this. Although I don't know if it'll work, but it's better than nothing, trial and error and all that."

You get back up and turn to Silco who has his eyebrows raised inquisitively and you pray to Janna that your rant made him forget about your little slip up. Your hands clap and you two continue to make your way, further and further down the winding paths.

That's when you notice.

"Silco, is anything still happening in those mines?"

"No, they're abandonned, why?"

You point to your right, claw marks littering the wall and ground. Your eyes follow them and you clap louder.

"Is that where we need to go?"

He nods, face grave and good eye narrowed. There were no grand signs of panic coming from him yet you could see the tension in his shoulders, the clenching of his jaw and his hands clenching and unclenching as if preparing for a fight.

"Let's go."

"It could be dangerous. I wouldn't want to risk-" He takes a sharp breath and shakes his head. "We don't have to go."

"Well, I want to. This place is important to you, so let's go."

You take his hand, his whole form rattling in surprise at the touch. Whenever the lights dimmed, you would make a small noise, loud enough to make the fungi glow with life, not enough to bounce off of the cavernous walls and start a headache. And after a moment of walking, Silco now back to leading you while his hand remained in yours, you gained an idea.

You knew that miners were superstitious to a certain extent, believing in the goddess Janna more than most along with those from the Sump. And growing up you would hear chants, now engraved in your heart you thought it to be a better way to illuminate the plants leading your way instead of ringing noises.

"Bey'fet ihru ga, Ahuni lek'cho."

The way lights up.

Beyond these walls, the Storm's fury grows.

Silco's hand squeezes yours, a small nostalgic smile growing on his face as you look at him. So you squeeze back, eyes observing the growing beastly marks on the surfaces of the tunnels as lights dimmed.

"Bey'un habbab, Ahuni lek'cho."

Albeit the growing concern of the ruined tunnel, clawed left and right, you two advance, steps assured yet hands clasped to one another's in comfort.

Over the seas (and land), the Storm's fury grows.

It was strange how the sound of the chant ricoché'd in the long stone corridor, sounding almost like you weren't alone singing, like this place was not nearly as quiet as you thought it was.

What was also strange was how you weren't scared and neither was Silco, his form more relaxed than when you had first observed the claw marks and so were you. Was it the song, reminiscent of something real and concrete that could root you back into reality. Or maybe it was Silco's presence. You knew your lack of fear could be attributed to the latter, the former only exacerbating the effects of it. Yet you couldn't help but hope deep down that you were the cause for his comfort too.

"Suhbi al naa yih.."

Rings when the dark swallows the two of you, Silco's voice soft and nearly whispered, a soft rhythm cadencing his words into a song.

The blue bird exists and thus...

The tunnel illuminates, the smile on Silco's face growing and showcasing chipped crooked teeth, watered by your own surprised expression also morphing in a toothy smile. His eyes, shining with mirth and something more tender, were still trained forward to a quickly approaching wooden door. Yet you could see them leaving the path to observe you, the lights dimming as your cheeks flushing red.

"..Kha aademas auja."

I fear nothing.

You answer, lighter in tone, the lights around you shining only dimly, enough for you two to walk to the doorway. That's when you notice the small golden glow from inside, your hands gripping one another's tighter before separating. Your own reaching for your Noxian knuckle blades, the same ones that you had been using for nearly a year now, polished and sharpened to perfection. While Silco takes two daggers in hand, he nods to the door and you step back, knocking it down with a heavy kick.

You immediately zero in on the now black haired girl, eyes blazing in anger at the recognition.

"I told you not to come back here girl!"

Her eyes widen as your body staddles her, blades at her throat, body tensing.

"I'm sorry, I promise I have a good reason!"

That's when two metallic clanks resound in the room, a choking breath, then a shaking sob following them. You glare at Violet as you turn, Silco was standing straight with a long blue haired girl gripping him tightly. The small brown haired child from the revolt at the Lanes, her locks now changed from a soft brown to a bright yet patchy blue, looking confused between the two displays.

"You can let her go."

Silco breathes out, arms reaching around his daughter and you sigh, getting off of the older sister and sheathing your blades back in your belts. You show your hand to her, beckoning her to take it so you could help her up.

"Looks like you're good for now, Violet."

"How-"

"Later."

You nod at her before moving to the child, remembering her name from your meeting with Sevika. You crouch with a friendly smile and take her mining helmet away, ruffling her hair before placing the hard hat back on her small head, the kid laughing at the ministration.

"You must be Isha, are you alright kiddo? You've pulled quite the stunt last time at the reunion."

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion before nodding, a grin stretching across her face, her arms embracing you softly and quickly before she pulls back.

"Dad, how...how did you survive?"

"Let's sit down for that, poppet."

And sit down you all did, Jinx looking at you suspiciously while you settle down next to her father, Isha on her lap as she sits and Vi to her side leaning against the wall.

"You're alive.."

"I am."

"Why didn't you come back to me? I thought I-" Jinx trembles, her eyes glossing over as she gazes at Silco's hand reaching around your shoulders, bringing you closer to him.

"Because I have learnt that I had caused too much damage, too much death. And that killing is a cycle that only walking away can break." He sighs, his thumb rubbing your shoulder as his other hand reaches for his daughter's face. "I have hurt you, you know that?"

"I know but, you were-"

"The best father I could be with the way I am. I know poppet. But I have made you a weapon, I aided in ruining your already fractured mind. Although I gave you a roof and as much love as I could, I dragged you down with me as I sank into my very own abyss. I'm sorry Jinx."

"You abandonned your dream! You left Sevika and I to pick up the pieces of your empire, the one you built and burnt to the ground yourself!"

Jinx's face leans into Silco's hand, yet her lips tremble, confusion and anger, sadness and fear tainting her face.

"I have left the empire I built as the Eye of Zaun, yes. But I haven't abandonned my dream of a Nation for all of us. My friend and I have been quietly working towards it, her for longer than I have, and I just followed in her steps."

Everyone's eyes shift to you and you nod as a greeting, your name slipping from your lips, preferring Silco to talk in this situation.

"She was there when it all happened, and saved me from the goodness of her heart. She helped me heal, in more ways than one, even when I was more than undeserving of it. She gave me a place to stay, and honest insight into my own mistakes. She's welcomed me in her life, in her work and in her rebellion. I would not be here now if it wasn't for her."

"That doesn't make you a good man." Scoffs Vi, Silco takes his hand away from Jinx and nods solemnly.

"Indeed, and I do not pretend to be. All I can do is be better. If I didn't, I know she would have been the first to set me back on the right path." Silco's voice rumbles. "Or to beat me into it."

You chuckle, the sound calling his eyes to you, the ever so soft gaze melting you as it always does. It seems to shock Jinx and Vi who look to one another with amused yet distraught faces.

"You bet I would have, you fossil."

His laugh rings in the shabby wooden room.

"Are you two..In charge of the Children of Zaun then?"

"Yes, Vi. Are you still an enforcer?" You answer back, eyebrows raised and gaze trained to the giant mechanical gauntlets behind her.

She scoffs. "No, turns out stopping Cait from shooting through Isha to get to Jinx is good enough of a reason for her to go Noxian dictator on us."

"That was the reason?"

She nods sadly, the affection in her eyes broken by such pain that you knew exactly what had happened.

"The things we do for love, right kid?"

"You can say that again."

"The things w-"

Silco takes the hand around your shoulders to your mouth and you snort, the room's tension dissipating as everyone followed you. You take the hand off, entertwining your fingers with Silco's. A gesture to calm yourself and be closer to him, hoping to Janna he would let you be so intimate, yet also that he'd build distance between you two to not let you fall into delusions. He lets it happen, squeezing once, your heart replicating the movement in shackled adoration.

"And you Jinx, how have you been?"

The girl's pink eyes snap to yours curiously, a pinch in her eyebrows showing shock at your care towards her.

"I've been...alright, better."

"So I've heard. Your dad's been really worried about you, you know? But we saw Sevika two weeks ago, she told us little bunny over there has been helping you." You scrunch your face at Isha who giggles. "I'm glad you found someone to live for, everyone needs something to push them forward."

"And you've been helping, dada."

She mumbles and you smile at her, one hand reaching to ruffle her hair.

"To the best of my ability, you know how your old man is kiddo."

"Commanding?"

"I was going more for cantankerous, stubborn and annoying. But why not?" You smirk and she cackles, your hand retracting to push away Silco's that escaped yours, pinching at your waist. Yet it remained there, softly soothing the bite it had delivered.

"I'm not all that bad anymore, am I, dove?"

Your lips twitch and you turn your head away, shaking it as if you were disappointed simply to hide your blush.

"You're a confident one."

"Oh shut up." He barks a laugh.

Jinx and Vi tense at the noise, eyes widening at Silco before looking at you like you grew two more heads.

"Where is Silco and what have you done to him?"

"What the f-"

You raise your eyebrows at the older girl. "Language."

She purses her lips before shaking her head incredulously, Jinx giggling, reaching to you both with a paper in hand and presenting it to Silco.

"I think you might want to read that, Silco."

"Yes, I...It's from Vander, from way back when..." The younger girl continues.

Your friend takes the letter, the hand at your waist squeezing as his eyes fly through the words.

Silence.

Even as his grip becomes borderline painful, you make no noise to disturb it.

Even as the letter crinkles in his grip.

"This..."

"Could've changed everything? Yeah, that's what we thought aswell."

"Why...?"

You gently take the paper from his grip and read it.

I’ve looked everywhere, but it’s clear you don’t want to be found. God I’m shit at this. I’m sorry. When she died…I lost my head. I told myself what I did to you was for the greater good, that you deserved it, but the dirt was on both our hands. Anyways, you know where to find me.

Blisters and bedrock.

V.

Indeed, it could've changed everything. If Silco had found this back in the day, when he was still freshly hurt and untainted by his pain. No matter how clumsy the words are, they convey enough guilt that you knew Silco would have at least heard Vander out. Even if he wasn't forgiven. But after spending so much time with the man, and knowing how profoundly he loves, you know he would have.

So you fold the letter and put it in his pocket, turning towards him and cradling his face. Your breath shaking as you try to look into his eye.

"Do you need time?"

"I'll be fine, I simply-"

"Everything could have been different, but what point is there in drowning in what ifs, Silco? What's done is done, what happened, happened. You've forgiven Vander long ago, and I'm sure that he would have too, given the time. Seeing who you've become now."

"Are you sure?"

"Certain."

Your right thumb caresses his scarred cheek quickly, barely holding yourself back from embracing him with all the love you held for him, before returning to your place, Silco's hand softening around you.

"Why are you two girls here?" You question, leaving Silco to his thoughts.

"Vi here was ruining herself, drinking and fighting after Cait-"

"Jinx." The sister groans.

"And when Isha had been caught, Sev and I went to get her at Stillwater...But there was something there. A beast who killed and destroyed everything in its path. And I promise I'm not lying when I say it's Vander! He said my name! He called me Powder and got out of his murderous transe then he just left!"

The hand around you clenches yet again, Silco's breath shifting to a faster, more chopped cadence. Your hand covers his softly.

"A beast you say?"

"I know it sounds mad but I'm not lying! Something happened to him! I swear!"

"I trust you Jinx." She stops her panicked rambling, Isha holding her close for comfort and her eyes glazed over yet again.

"You do..?" She sounds fully disbelieving.

"Of course, I'm your father's friend and I trust him, so if he trusts you so do I. You're not a bad kid, you just did bad things and I know you regret them. Trust me, I'd know what being a monster is and you're far from being one."

Your smile relaxes her tensed body, Violet looking at you with a faraway look while her face softens into something akin to gratitude and nostalgia.

"So you came because...you thought Vander would come here when he broke out of whatever he was controlled by?"

Jinx nods, not trusting her words.

"And you wanted your sister to come, so you could both reunite with him?"

Her eyes trail to Violet who smiles softly.

"We've seen the claw marks in the tunnels, we trust you Jinx. Your father and I."

The girl sniffles and slides Isha off of her lap, the child walking towards you cautiously and setting herself on the table next to you with your help, hand momentarily leaving Silco's.

"And you?"

"I...wanted to show her this important part of my life." Finally speaks the man, his voice the slightest bit shaky yet reverting back to its controlled tone.

"She has become the most important person for me now, and after seeing and apologizing to Sevika it only felt right to bring her here."

Your heart clenches at his words, you knew he only meant that you were a close friend yet you couldn't help but find it in his tone that he could be more. A delusion perhaps, fueled by the time spent together and his vulnerability, yet something that you couldn't simply gloss over as your hand clenches around his.

"You apologized?"

Vi says incredulously and Silco nods solemnly.

"And I should apologize to you too Violet. I've made your life a living hell, and I know I can take none of it back. But if you ever need anything, consider it done. You don't have to forgive me, not now and not ever if you do not find it in your heart to. Just know that I'll spend the rest of my life atoning for my actions to you and allof those whom I've hurt."

"Wait. Does that mean you were there when the strike team.."

"Yes. Dove here was not only agressive because of what Kiramman did to our people but also because she was keeping you from finding me in the back. She was, once more, my shelter. I owe her my life and so much more, I believe it'd be impossible to repay it all."

You shake your head, elbowing him softly as you try to shake off the way you melted as he said the nickname that he's found for you.

"You already do more than enough Sil."

"I don't believe that's true."

"You don't have to. It's the truth."

You smile and Silco gently grins back, pushing his hips away from the wooden table, his hand caressing you as it leaves its spot on your waist and touches the table. You have half a mind to pursue his touch yet decide against it, body stiffening at the inner conflict. His svelte form approaches two jackets hung on the wall. Grabbing the smaller one he sighs, slowly taking off the one he wears before putting the dustier one on. It fits him perfectly, and you melt at the sight.

It was his old jacket.

He reaches to the other one, placing the one he wore prior on the hanger. Slowly, he turns and approaches the table once more before reaching for your shoulders. Your heart stammers in your ribcage as he slides your coat down your shoulders, your hands twitching and stare darting all over his face as he does so. And when it's off, he gently places the larger jacket on you.

"It fits you."

Silco's voice is nearly imperceptible and you almost swoon and jump into his arms, instead choosing to grab at the leather. The smell of humidity, metal and dirt clinging to it like seafoam on the shores of Ionia. Your eyes find his teal one, the burning orange still hidden behind its eyepatch, and you break just a bit at how he looked at you. It was chaotic, yet soft, something you couldn't decypher yet that had your stomach bursting with firelights, warming you from the inside.

"Guys, he's not here, let's just go."

The moment is broken by Vi and you nod, sighing both in relief and in dejection as Silco steps away. Isha jumped off the table and took your hand, dragging you towards the door and letting a huff of laughter leave your lips as you follow her, the two sisters behind you.

The two girls argue softly behind you, talking about how Jinx had lied again, about Vander's survival, and Jinx defending herself. The child at your side jumping between the sisters before Violet pushes her away, unknowingly throwing Isha to the ground, her small hand scraping against a rock.

"Are you okay little one?"

You ask, crouching next to her and observing her hand. She was bleeding a small bit, and without thinking much you pull a small bandage from one of your many pouches, kissing the small wound before putting the small plaster on it.

"There, all better."

Meanwhile Silco is trying to de-escalate the arguement, softly talking to the two stubborn girls and taking the side of neither. Showing just how much he's grown from an overprotective and blinded parent, to a responsible father even to the child he didn't raise. The older sister now his daughter by proxy from having been his best friend's child, then his brother's, but also Jinx's sibling.

That's when the you heard it, the faraway sound of something approaching. Something big. The lights dimming to nothing but pitch black as the sound gets closer.

You guide Isha behind you, hands reaching for your blades and Silco standing next to his daughter with a protective arm placed in front of her. Violet moved in front of all of you, gauntlets glowing with arcane energy as she gets ready to attack whatever rushes at you, your own form tensing behind her.

"I got your back Vi."

"Thanks, Mrs. Silco." She glances at you from over her shoulder.

You stammer and she smirks, turning back forward. Jinx calls out to her as red light appears in the tunnel, pleading her sister not to hurt the beast currently rushing towards you, snarling violently as if starved. And Vi punches him, you in tow using the knuckle parts of your Noxian blades to push the monster back.

"Don't hurt him!"

Yet as the beast zeroes in on Isha, Violet and you pushed pack with another flurry of punches. Your bodies thrown back at a violent sweep of his claws, you taking the blunt of it as you rushed in front of the girl. Silco holds you close in his arms from your crumpled position on the ground as the gauntlet wielding woman gets back into position.

"Vander!"

The monster closes in, and as you think the older girl will attack again, preferring to protect you all rather than bet your lives on a story, she drops her hands.

The room grows dark again, not even illuminated by the red of the beast's...you wouldn't even know what to describe what was on his back. Some sort of pump, full of a glowing crimson liquid. Probably an artificial heart to animate the, what was meant to be, dead man.

Silco holds you tighter.

"Are you okay, my dove?"

You nod in stupor, clinging to him as Jinx gets up, flicking a lighter on as she holds Isha close. Wandering in the dark, walking towards where Vi and Vander's ghost had been. Her breath is heavy and stuttering, searching for her sister and father in the dark. When the dust clears, you see it.

The beast glows green.

The violent red replaced by a peaceful tone reminiscent of Zaun's neons as Violet holds the monster's neck tight, the larger creature softening in her hold. A hand is over her back, cradling her neck protectively as she turns around, a hand held out invitingly.

"What are you waiting for? He's your dad too."

Jinx sobs, shaking in disbelief before dropping her lighter and rushing to Vander and Violet. You grunt, getting up with Silco's help before joining the girls, Isha clinging to you in fear and wonder at the sight in front of you as she seeks comfort in your touch.

The beast grows restless as it sees Silco, yet as it observes you held so gently at his side, it grows confused.

"It's been so long, brother." You hear from your friend, fear freezing you at the thought of Vander attacking, yet Silco's warmth melting it back.

"Hello Vander." Your voice is small. "I promise we'll explain everything."

Duochrome eyes dismantle the sight of you before his arms open wider and you smile, pushing Silco forward as you stayed back with Isha. The man stumbling in his old friend's grasp as sobs rack through him. Silent, yet strong enough for you to notice the shuddering of his back. Yet his hand grabs yours, pulling you and Isha in the embrace. The warmth of such unbridled love enough to have you crying too, included in a family you were never a part of yet were accepted into.

You don't know how much time was spent in each other's arms, crying, mumbling apologies and I love you's, before you pull away. Still holding onto Silco's hand you turn to the man, his hair out of his usual bun, face struck with so many emotions yet everyone of them was clear. Relief, sadness, guilt, shame.

"You were right." You hear from behind you.

"I know it sounded insane bu-"

"It doesn't matter, Jinx. You were right, and I'm sorry for doubting you. I'm sorry for everything."

Violet holds her sister tight and Vander's gaze turns to you and Isha once more.

"Vander, this is Isha. She was taken in by...Powder" You say the name softly, looking at the girl who nods, her eyes looking at you in approval. "She helped your daughter a lot and in turn your daughter helped her." You explain softly, smiling at the creature. "And I'm Silco's friend. I...Helped him back on the right track, you could say."

"She saved me from death, brother. And set me straight, made me a better man. I know you and Felicia would have loved her."

"I was way too young to know all of you back then, Sil."

He looks at you fondly, lips pursing back a smile.

"Perhaps, my dove."

He turns back to his brother in time for you to release a deep breath. Janna, this man didn't know what he was doing yet it seemed like he did. And you hated that you loved it, the self-satisfied yet kind look in his eyes as he said that word in his dulcet tone.

As all six of you make your way out of the mines your eyes trail off to the side, a large tarp covering an entrance to a branching tunnel and you get an idea. You walk towards it, hand leaving Silco's who looks at you in confusion, and rip it from its place in the wooden frame.

"What are you doing?"

"Well, do you want enforcers on our asses for dragging a gigantic man beast. Sorry Vander." You turn to him and nod in apology, the man huffing in acceptance. "So let's at least cover him. We'll bring you guys to my shop."

"You have a shop?" Jinx asks from behind Vander's hulking form.

"A forge, yes. There will be enough space to house him until we think about what to do."

You throw the large fabric over Vander, Violet helping you wrap it around him from the other side. The beast holding it close to himself and covering his head.

"Are you comfortable, Vander?" The man nods, another puff of air escaping him.

"We'll close up shop." You hear from behind you, Silco looking pensive. "She's overworked herself and was long overdue for a vacation."

You turn, an jokingly idignant look permeating your features.

"Hey if you're too old to work hard just say it Sil. Don't pin it on me." You tease as he scoffs.

"I'm not the one who woke up four hours later than usual and looked like death, this very morning."

You roll your eyes as he slips his hand in yours again, dragging you forward and the group following after.

The way to your shop was riddled with curious stares, yet as people saw Silco and you aswell as the blue haired girl, they nodded. Respect pouring from their forms as they turned away, blind to your group while you walked to the forge. Entering it and closing the metal blinds behind you, forge soon illuminated by the hearth's flame, Isha helping you haul wood there all too happily. Each time she would bring back a small bundle you'd pinch her cheek lovingly, a small kiss delivered to a new part of her face and she'd giggle on her way back to get more fuel.

In the back, Silco is sitting next to Vander, Violet on the other side of the bigger man and Jinx on the table in front of everyone, observing and quipping at times. The energy she was known for nowhere to be seen. Yet you can understand why, discovering two of the fathers she lost are still alive and that both have drastically changed, one more than the other. Along with her past and her newfound responsibilities as the face of Zaun's rebellion and parent to Isha, you could understand why she's changed so much from the loose canon she used to be.

You set yourself next to her, hips leaning against the table before bending to take Isha in your arms, the girl clinging to you and Jinx talking next to the both of you.

"All I'm saying is that there must be a way to change him back! Or at least to make him I don't know...Vander again! Without anymore of those freak outs!"

"We'd have to find the reason for those sudden changes, though." Silco leans back on the couch, arms draping over the back.

Isha shuffles around in your grasp and you get off of the table, placing her next to Jinx. That's when you look down at her hands, brushing yours against them, that you realize what the reason for Vander's rage could be.

"Blood." All eyes turn to you.

"Violet pushed Isha away while she was arguing with Jinx, and the kid scraped herself on a rock. She bled and it's only after that, that Vander rushed to the mines."

You show the child's injured hand, the bandage on there taken away so you could clean it again before you put a new wrap on it. The girl hugs you, her face nuzzling right under your chest. The older sister turns to you and you break from the embrace, going to lean against the wall.

"But we can't know for sure."

"We can."

You take Silco's dagger out of your pockets, the same one he had gifted you over a year ago, and flick it open, spining it between your fingers.

"No."

"Silco.

"Dove." He gets up from his spot to approach you, his pace panicked "I'm not letting you put yourself in danger, even if Vander is himself now, your method could work and tick him off and you could get gravely hurt. You will not try it."

"Then we'll never know! We need to know what triggers him to know what to avoid! I mean maybe my blood won't even work because so many people bleed at once, maybe only the blood spilled by people somehow important to him can get him angry!"

"For Janna's sake, you are important."

His voice bounces from every wall yet he doesn't yell, his words are harsh, clipped and hissed with the concern and care of his eyes softening his agression.

The room was so silent that Vander's deep breaths could be heard.

Violet is standing up from the couch, fists clenched and body tense as she seems to want to come and protect you. Jinx holding Isha with a soft gaze trained towards you, Vander's heterochromatic eyes looking at you in a similar fashion.

And for all the hope it gives you, at how concerned Silco is and at how everyone seems to react to it, you'd rather not imagine why their gazes are that way lest you fall into delusions again.

"Silco?"

"You are taking the week off, and you are not executing your little plan. Promise me."

"Sil-"

"Promise."

His voice grows more and more gentle, one hand sliding up from your shoulders to hold your chin and direct your gaze to his.

"Promise me, my dove."

And under his gaze you crumble, the touch, the nickname, the tone of voice and his form hiding yours from the others' inquisitive looks are enough to leave you flushed. Shaking you nod.

"With your words."

"Yes."

His eyebrow arches, lips pursing in discontent, the marred side of his face twitching.

"Yes, Silco."

And with that he sighs, his hand caressing your chin as he leaves the room under the excuse of going to buy dinner, and you breathe heavily, ragged and fast.

"So...how long have you two been together?"

"What?!" You turn to Violet, expression disbelieving.

"You're...not?"

"No! Why would he-" You purse your lips and straighten. "We're not together. We aren't. We're just friends. He's just changed, that's all."

A scoff is heard from the table, Jinx barely holding back a laugh. her blue hair moving with her like flowing water from the Frelljord.

"Well then he must be pretty stupid!"

"Jinx, that's your father."

"Riiiight, sorry mom."

You groan, dragging yourself to a chair and slumping on it, face on the table. Your blush spreading through you like wildfire, the teasing only making it worse.

"Let's just not."

"Even Vander thinks it."

"Well I can't hear him teasing me so that's fine by me. Sorry Vander." A huff answers you, almost sounding like a chuckle. "Oh f-.. shut it."

"Men are stupid. That's a given." A pat's given on your back, Violet's warmth seeping through the heavy miner's jacket.

"And women too apparently."

"You can say that again."

"And wom-" She smacks the back of your head and you sigh out a laugh, a hand raking through your hair as you sit up straight. "Really though, let's not."

"You're torturing yourself liking a man like that." And to your surprise Jinx nods along.

"I know girls, don't remind me."

A small hand pats your hair and you look forward to see Isha smiling at you, making humming noise and you grin back.

"How could we help Vander though?" Vi sets herself next to you.

"His body might not be salvageable. From what I know his death could very well have destroyed his body, so this may be what we have to work with." Jinx gazes towards where you are, Isha crawling into your lap from hers.

"But who could help?"

"Dada knew a man, Singed. Tall, burnt, very creepy. He made shimmer. He saved my life too, he could-"

Vander's growl stops her, all eyes pinning him like darts on a board, he looks restless and his eyes are swirling with so many feelings you couldn't even begin to fathom. Pure unbridled fear is what rolled out of him in waves, and so it was clear to all of you then that Singed was not an option.

Then you remember, so many rumors coming from clients, words whispered on the streets of a healer. Many refused to believe such a thing as you were in Zaun and a magical, kind being offering their help without demanding anything in return was bound to be a scam. At best, you would go back home naked, destitute of all your possessions. As for the worst? You would either have no home to come back to, or no life animating your body.

Miracles were a gamble, even more so in Zaun where you were ground 0 to test all of what seemed to cruel or inhumane to try on any other human.

Yet over the past year this mysterious healer had gained a following, apparently rallying and helping those in need where you originated from. The Sumps.

The lowest, poorest and most dangerous of the levels in the Undercity. Where those who have nothing live, praising Janna for a blessing that you now knew would never come.

Or would it?

People came back changed from this healer, or never came back again. Describing a kind, soft spoken man draped in dark blue, his long hair caressed as if he carried the Winds with him, a scepter of marble and gold held within his ethereal, indigo grasp. Eyes a kaleidoscope that could see through your very being, separate soul from body and pick apart every emotion, every atom, before pulling them back together, better than before.

You feared a cult, a hidden scheme, yet seeing Jinx and Violet now clinging to Vander as he held them close, Isha pulled along in the beast's lap; you couldn't help but want to believe. When you saw Silco's walls crashing down, sobbing in his brother's arms with abandon, his emotions seemingly less in his control.

You couldn't help but hope.

And hope was all a Zaunite could ever do with the life they were dealt with.

Hope for financial stability, a roof over their head, clothes on their back, food in their belly, love if life allowed them and a child if the gods were generous. Hope was all you could afford, fear was all you were awarded.

And on the cusp of a civil war, a revolution, you needed more than simple hope. You needed a concrete sign.

So when Silco comes back you propose your plan to smuggle Vander down to the Sumps, and meet this man. The Singed man not an option you could explore due to the man-beast's restlesness at the mention of him. And Silco looks conflicted, just like you imagining so many bad outcomes for his dear friend, this healer capable of bringing him back or take him away from the lithe man's grasp again, him and both sisters left behind like before.

Yet the more you talk and resonate, the more you see the gears and cogs of their minds turn, analysing and pondering every word flowing from your lips. You had nothing much to lose anymore and Vander needed to be stable, maybe then some of the ever growing tension that was generated by the inter-city conflict could be erased. Leaving your minds clear and ready for the approaching fight.

The war readying itself right under your eyes.

So food was quickly consumed, the afternoon having passed and the evening quickly rolling by.

"Vi and I will sleep here with Vander. You take Isha with you for a nice bath and a soft bed."

You nod at Jinx, and although it takes a bit more time to coax the little girl into coming with Silco and you, she eventually does. So you close up shop and bid goodnight to the two girls already holding their father close, a soft yet sad smile growing on your face, watered by the bittersweetness of the moment.

Isha holds your hand as you walk back home, jumping up and down yet slowing down until she comes to a stop, exhaustion overtaking her after such an eventful day.

"Come on darling, let's get some rest yeah?" She nods, your arms slipping around her as you carry her the rest of the way.

You wake her up for a bath, draping the girl in one of your shirts for the night, way too big for her tiny frame. And soon enough after both you and Silco were done with your routines you all got in bed. Isha softly held between the two of you, one of your hands cradling her to your chest and the other brushing through your friend's luscious, salt and pepper locks, sometimes switching so you can scratch at his scalp.

"You're good with children." His soft voice echoes in the dark room.

"I just give them what they deserve. What I haven't been given at their age. In Zaun a little goes a long way."

"Yet you go above and beyond, for children and adults alike."

"We all need respite, why deny kindness when it costs nothing?"

He chuckles, the arm over you and Isha tightening its grip at your waist. The one in your hair moving to caress his knuckles at your cheek for a moment.

"Thank you, for Vander, for Jinx. For everything."

"No thanks are needed. You're my friend Silco" You lie, yet the affection in your words is as true as it can be. "I would go to the ends of Runeterra if you so asked."

Your eyes grow heavy, head sinking deeper into your pillow as words are whispered to you, undecypherable because of the exhaustion putting your mind at rest.

The next morning you wake up to the sight of Isha holding a tray with a big smile on her face, Silco in tow with your mug in hand unwilling to let the girl hold hot liquid.

It all felt so homely, that you couldn't stop two tears from sliding down your cheeks.

Wiping at your face you joke that you cry sometimes when you're tired and kiss the child on the forehead, laying the tray on your legs as you sit up. Looking at the hearty breakfast then to the two people standing near you, Isha coming to curl up at your side while Silco sits by your legs.

"She insisted on bringing this up to you."

"Not you?" You tease, nodding in gratitude as you take the hot cup from him, humming at the aroma and taste of coffee.

"Should I start then, my dove? Mh?"

You nearly choke on the hot beverage in your hands and go to stuff your face, hoping to Janna he cannot see your blushing face in the dim room.

You learn that even though she can speak, Isha is indeed very persuasive and insistent. Taking your empty tray downstairs with a bounce in her step as she pointed to your small wardrobe with a jokingly stern look, probably excited to see Jinx again.

You pick breakfast on the way, and hesitate on what to get Vander. His new form far from human which makes you doubt anything concerning his eating habits, so you pick up something similar than for the rest of you hoping to Janna it'll fit him.

Breakfast is shared with everyone huddled in the back room, Isha cuddling Jinx and signing excitedly, probably to explain how her evening went. And your doubts seem confirmed when Jinx looks at you incredulously, whispering to her sister from the side while she hides her mouth from view. You roll your eyes jokingly and spare them a desperate pointed stare as Violet chokes on her pastry, Vander huffing as his ears pick up what is said.

"What are they planning?"

"You don't wanna know, Sil." The three girls laugh. "Trust me."

"I think I do."

"No you don't you fossil, now stop swirling your coffee mysteriously before I drink it myself."

"You wouldn't, it's too bitter."

"Don't try me."

Soon enough Vander is covered back with the tarp, fabric hiding his monstrous form. Violet puts on her gauntlets, Jinx holds Isha's hand and you all get out, Silco and you closing up shop.

The way to the Sump is not all that long, your small hole in the wall community being very near the limits of the Entresol level. Though the labyrinth of the lowest level is another story, the thin corridors nearing a prison sentence are hard to navigate through with the man-beast's hulking form, the group following you as you expertly make your way through the sullen streets. Filled to the brim with those who had less than nothing, the only reason they keep going being faith in Janna's return and her blessings.

"Excuse me, we wish to find the healer, I believe they call him the Herald. Would you be so kind to guide us?"

The small, frail woman you kneeled in front of trains her eyes to you, slowly, exhausted from hunger and the cold. You hand her a pastry, having bought extras to give to those in the Sump, and a handful of coins. Not quite bribing her, more like delivering a counter offer for her help.

She takes your hand with her shaky ones, and with soot draws a small map. The lines are scribbled, the map nearly unreadable, but as she puts down a couple of landmarks your brain ticks in understanding.

"Thank you ma'am. If you ever need help, come to my shop, it's near the Sump entrance on the east of the Entresol. Just ask for me."

You tell her your name and that she can spread the information to as many people as she can. A small, tired smile lights up her sunken face and she holds your shoulders gently, caressing them before letting you return to your group.

As you travel deeper into the Sump the tension within the group grows, not knowing what to expect of the Herald yet wishing to the Gods that he would be able to help.

On the way there you give the last of your pastries to some of the poor fellows down there, repeating what you had said to the woman so that they know they have a safe space to run to if they want it. And time passes, walking through the foul sump smelling streets, metallic groans and cries of pain haunting the very air you breathe, until the buildings become sparse.

As they become sparse you observe the way Isha clings to Jinx who is by Vander's side, Violet on the other, revelling at the sight of the family.

"Why don't you join them, Silco?" You ask softly, eyes trailing to the man walking next to you, steadfast in his position by your side since you offered him a new chance at life.

"They deserve to be a family, I'm the reason the girls lost their parents and even Vander, I hurt Jinx and Violet got imprisoned because of me. It wouldn't feel right."

"Yet you're Vander's brother and Jinx's father. You have as much of a place in this family as any of them."

"I think the only place I have left in this world is by your side."

You bite your cheek, a sigh escaping your lips as if it needed to leave you, to run away. You couldn't stop your heart from rushing everytime he talked to you so solemnly, looking at you as if you hung up the moon. Those words never helped, they made everything so much worse in fact.

This man had found his family once more.

You tell yourself.

He will leave even if he says otherwise.

You reason.

At least you try to, cutting your delusions down as you always do, knowing they'll come back with a revenge but unwilling to deal with them at the moment. They always do around him. His tender care like soil to the fragile seed of your heart, providing warmth and growth, his affection like the sun and the rain feeding your soul.

Around you the buildings make themselves sparce, the thin space of the ravine opening up to a clearing. The space in front of you which you knew to be filled with quaint tents to some inhabitants of the Sump now...a commune?

The sun shined down upon it from breaks in Piltover's metal plating over Zaun, like the Celestials shone down upon this small bit of paradise in the bedrock. What was the most surprising was not the organic shapes of the buildings, white like carved marble and ornate with gold and stained glass, although it was the second on your list. No, it was the field surrounding the small town.

Plants growing in the Undercity.

In the chemical soil, ruined by the upperside's arrogance, watered by toxic waters ruined by experimentations and so called "progress", grew flowers and grass, and you would wager food too if this commune was as self sufficient as it looked.

And it was beautiful.

Even more so as you approached, the grandeur of the place seeping into your bones, warth feeling you as you see...happiness. The crowd coming in along side you filled with hope.

"Vi. I hoped you might return."

Says a man in white, a member of the commune if you could judge by the way he was dressed and by the strange gilded scars on his face. But for all the man's gentleness, Vi stepped forward, tension and agression shaking her very being like you when you first saw her again.

"You filthy traitor."

"Yes, that was me at my worst. Simply awful." He glosses over her rage, acknowledging his past mistakes with nonchalance and welcoming other Zaunites into the gates. "But the Herald has freed me of my past self. He has given me a chance to make amends."

His voice softly fills the air, your body tense at the sheer spectacle of the place, his words heard yet not quite as engrained in you as the sight of heaven within hell.

"All are welcome but I must ask you to surrender your weapons, this is a place of peace."

Your fingers twitch at your side, gaze snapping at him, Vi and Jinx also disgruntled at the words the man just uttered. When you look to your right to find Silco, you find him looking quite similarly to you. Asking a Zaunite to surrender their means of protection was a big inquiry, yet as your eyes trailed to the commune, you can't help but sigh.

Your hands reach beneath your big coat, noxian blades unsheathing and stabbing them in the ground. You are surrendering only this much of your own comfort, Vander is important but you are still a Sumper and a Zaunite and grew up solely in violence. You aren't giving away your tools, and neither are you giving away the dagger currently brushing against your fingers in your jacket's pocket.

Jinx looks at you then at the greeter, her gun suddenly trained on him, the familiar hextech glow shining from within it. But then Violet abandons her gauntlets, the heavy machines slipping from her hands and smashing onto the ground, nodding at you as you follow her in.

You trust that the others would follow.

And they do.

Jinx gives away her gun, keeping the crystal that was stored within it, and Silco gives away two daggers. You smirk at him, knowing that the man was hiding at the very least three more on his person, and he gives you an innocent look. It turns into the usual self satisfied grin as he reaches you.

"Sneaky bastard."

"You're one to talk, minx."

The greeter takes your group to a hill in the commune, no one in the streets minding Vander until you pass by a blacksmith, the man quenching some hot metal and the noise agitating the beast. Yet no one seems to mind him, even as the tarp falls down, nothing but complete gentleness and understanding filling the gazes of the commune's inhabitants, albeit surprised at Vander's appearance.

You soon make your way to a hill, covered in sand and housing a singular, spheric building, from which comes out a man.

The Herald.

And for all of the praise you've heard about him, nothing could have prepared you for how...Ethereal he looked. Body metallic and purple, gilded in certain spots, lithe and tall while it's held up by his iridescent scepter. Yet his face still very human, gentle, the cheeks softly sunken in, his eyes like oilspills and his long hair greying from beneath.

"We hear you can heal people." Is all Vi says before the Herald steps forward, eyes trained on Vander as he stretches his hand towards the beast.

From besides you, you feel Silco moving, his hands already reaching for the hidden daggers he kept on himself.

"Silco, no."

And as you hold his hand, he tenses, the movement fully stopping at your ministration. He sighs and shakes his head in surrender.

That's when the healer reaches Vander, a swift instant passing where purple energy comes from his chest and spreads towards his outstretched hand on Vander's head. Then the man crumbles, seemingly in a daze.

"He is worth the risk." Resounds the Herald's accented, gentle yet almost mechanical voice.

He helps himself up, but as you think his analysis is done, he steps towards Silco, his hand taking the eyepatch away from your friend whose hand is already gripping yours tightly.

"Silco, it is...Strange, to see you here. As much as it isn't. No one truly seems to die anymore, do they?"

Says the healer, a hand outstretched towards your friend before Silco snatches his, his eyes widening, seemingly staring through your friend's soul.

"I'll be fine. We came here for Vander."

"Your eye is infected."

"It is my burden alone to bear, boy. There are more pressing matters at hand."

And the regal man steps back, a soft smile on his face as his eyes trail to you, twinkling with something unknown.

He leads you to a fountain, explaining how he saw within Vander's mind, his dreams, aspirations for Zaun and memories, described the affection the man felt for all of the three important people now reunited with him.

"Can you help him." Vi asks urgently as you set yourself next to her.

"I will do all in my power. However I have one condition."

"Looks like you got a couple." Jinx mumbles teasingly as she stops walking around the fountain.

"You have much to offer this commune..Powder."

Everyone looks at him, surprised at his knowledge of her birth name yet the word cementing his capabilities as true in all of your minds, the girl dropping a coin in the water out of shock.

"Your talents can be used to build instead of destroy." He reaches into the water for the metal circle.

"...I'll stick with what I know..Thanks."

"My condition is that he must be restrained at night. I've seen the harm of which he is capable."

Time passes and Violet looks to her sister.

"What do you think?"

"You...actually want my opinion?" The girl mutters to herself before sighing, getting off the fountain and taking Isha with her.

"I hate fortune cookies."

Violet bids goodbye to Vander and you let Silco do the same, the man holding his friend in a way you would he wish with you. Tightly, with abandon, his body melting into the embrace.

"Good luck, Herald. See you later, Vander." You nod your own farewell, tapping the beast on the shoulder as you walk away, going your own way. The events of the previous day, of the previous year even, catching up to you.

You find yourself welcomed by the inhabitants of the commune, your stomach full and thirst quenched as you walk past homes, the sound of happy chatter and giggling children filling the air. Your body firstly leading you to the blacksmith from earlier, asking to stay and help to occupy yourself, empty your mind of the whirlwind of thoughts finally breaking the dam you've imposed on yourself.

Soon enough, Vander's psyche would be healed, his body impossible to salvage as you had feared. Silco would probably return to him, possibly to his daughter now that she had healed, and perhaps even Violet would join them, Isha obviously coming as a package deal with the younger sister. That's what your mind told you, no matter how much it seemed like Silco would stay, no matter how much he acted like he wouldn't or said he'd be by your side, you doubted him.

And you hated it.

But it was impossible for your mind to change. You grew up, shackled like a feral animal, sent to the pit with no empathy. Whether you died or not didn't matter as long as you put up a good show and racked money. You saw other children die, day by day, you saw men and women bloodied on the ground as your hands clawed at the ground, nails caked in their flesh and the sand from the arena. And months passed, years passed, the red forever staining your hands in your mind's eye, and to escape you had to kill again. Rage overtaking your body as you ripped through skin, flesh and bone; you made a carnage, worse than any you've made in the pit. Survival bubbling with unrestrained anger as you left the premises silent. No spectators, no adversaries, no ring leader, no staff. Just metallic smelling, foul silence; the sound of death.

Yet as you dragged your body to the Entresol you could still hear a combination of elated yells and pained screams, bouncing around your head. And so you became louder than them.

You were taken in, and started working hard. Finding jobs louder than the previous one until you landed on the art of smithing. Loud enough to cover the screams, respected enough that you would be left alone, and social enough that you could help people.

And that is how you lived.

Hot metal beaten day in and day out, helping those in need. Yet you saw it all too quickly that you left one hell for another. Maybe you didn't have to kill everyday to survive, but you saw how Piltover treated Zaun, even how fellow Zaunites treated their own. Sitting on piled up riches made from death and hardwork while they remained lazy and self-righteous, working towards their own progress and not yours.

That's when your blood boiled again, disappointed at how the world was for those at the bottom. So you remembered. Remembered of those stories of miners uniting in a band of misfits, fighting back against the status quo. The Children of Zaun were the only reason you fought back in the pit, the only reason you even dared live, and the reason why you eventually escape.

You wanted to see the Nation of Zaun they were speaking of, wanted to work with them towards achieving it and hoping it would be your repentance for all of the blood you've shed.

And even if tragedy had struck and they had disbanded, you believed in their dream. So when you saw exactly why they dared what they had, you understood all too quickly.

Their vigor, their arrogance..it all made sense. And even if the movement was dead, you would be lying if you said that fighting back wasn't an idea that ate at you. So you did, and eventually it all culminated in you meeting Silco.

Your childhood hero, the driving force behind your own solitary fight. And even if he had fucked up, like hell you were going to let a Zaunite, let alone him, die. Not on your watch.

And you were glad you helped, you were glad you believed. Because beneath the ice cold façade, you saw it. The miner boy who grew to have a dream of freeing his people from oppression, the boy who grew to become a man of action and who got so hurt that his pain led him astray. Focusing his energy into his dream while forgoing the rest, including the very reason he fought.

It felt sweet to know you helped him.

If only these pesky feelings didn't get in the way, turning your friendship into a one way longing, growing into what you feared to be love. Yet as much as you loved him, you couldn't help to fear his departure, knowing a man like this would never settle for something like you. You shared so much in common, his affection so very true.

It just felt impossible for your feelings to be reciprocated.

He was the first person you let in this close, and you feared that even unknowingly he'd rip at your heart.

Days were spent in your own head smithing away and delivering around the commune, coming back in the evening and sharing a meal with your little group. Violet and Jinx seemingly growing closer, Isha included in their banter, Vander growing calmer and his eyes more gentle, Silco more relaxed yet his eyes looking so far away from here.

You shared a room, single bed, and when you looked at the Herald he had this glint in his eyes again. Yet you couldn't be anymore happy that he did. Knowing that you'd be getting no sleep without the soft scratching on your scalp and you scratching on Silco's. His soft hair flowing through your fingers like river water.

"You're not supposed to work."

He grumbles every night.

"If I stay here and don't help, I'll feel guilty."

You always answer back and he sighs, bringing you closer. The drum of his heart against your cheek enough to lull you to sleep.

Today is a day just like any other, where you share breakfast with Silco before going away, leaving him with his daughter and her sisters, Vander soon to be visited by the four of them.

"You work hard, I have to thank you for that." Your name is spoken so softly you nearly miss it under the sound of hammers on metal. Wiping your forehead with a rag you greet the Herald.

"Well, I couldn't bear the thought of staying here for free. Trenchers need to help one another, it's one of the rules."

"Walk with me?"

You look at him confused, then to the two men working alongside you. They smile, nodding to the healer before you step away and towards him, following wherever he needed to go.

"I actually had something to ask of you, Herald, if you'll hear me."

"Of course, what is it?"

"You have many plants here, I wish to take back some to a friend. We're working on an antidote for S-" You bite your lip and sigh.

"For Silco's infection. It's getting worse isn't it?" You nod dejectedly.

"We saw that sap from plants growing in Zaun, mixed with shimmer, could stop his infection. Moss doesn't make nearly enough, and here you grow so many different kinds of plants that...I wished to ask to take some to Samira."

"You may take as much as you need."

You freeze, stopping in your tracks.

"As easy as that?"

"I would have said yes anyways because of your noble intentions but you have been helping the commune, think of it as payment."

He settles himself on a rock overlooking the small slice of paradise he built and you sit next to him, slumping on your knees with your head in your hands.

"You're already doing more than enough for Vander and all of us, I think I'm the one repaying you."

He hums.

"Let's call it a mutually beneficial arrangement, then." You chuckle.

"You're stubborn."

"So are you, helping a man like Silco back on the right path is no easy feat, but you've accomplished it."

"I saved him because of admiration, he stayed because he proved himself capable of change and healing. All he has now is because he worked hard for it, I simply helped."

He chuckles and his cold hand finds yours, patting it gently, the metal feeting heavier despite his ease of movement.

"You're a healer, but do you know anything about applied magic?"

"What do you mean?" His face tilts.

"Something else Samira and I have discovered is that, a hex crystal like this." You hold up the blue marble after fishing it from your pocket. "Can enhance the serum's efficiency. Yet we don't know how to harness it. I've made a machine but I don't know runes for the life of me. Going up to Piltover would be way too dangerous especially since the only person left knowledgeable about runes has disappeared..."

The man freezes besides you, gripping his staff tighter before he slumps, your body turns towards him as he looks at you.

"Show me this machine. Can you write the blueprint for me?"

You nod and get up only to kneel on the ground, picking a tool from your many pouches as you draw shapes after shapes. Arches and annotations following one another in a nearly frenzied scribble.

"The centrifuge force exerced by the machine to mix the serum plus the crystal's energy yield better results than something done by hand, yet I know from previous encounters that Hextech has runes. I may not be a scientist but the stone is the energy source, the machine is the catalyst...yet all that without instructions is useless for optimal results, right?"

He kneels next to you, observing all that you had carved in the sand, one hand holding his chin as his eyes swirl in color. A small excited smile making its way to his face.

"This is genius." He mumbles. "And you've had no real experience in making Hextech before?"

"None, I'm a simple blacksmith." He shakes his head and clicks his tongue.

"There is nothing simple about this. You have engeneered an entirely new machine, from nothing with no previous knowledge of magic...Yes, of course I will help you."

"You know runes? I mean you're obviously a mage but..."

"How could I not, when I have fathered half of what has made the inspiration for all of this?" His hand shows your blueprint.

And silence rings loudly between the two of you and your eyes widened.

No one truly seems to die anymore, do they?

You remember him saying that the first day in the commune. And now you understood just how true it was. The man in front of you was the Zaunite who made it to the academy in Piltover, the one who Jayce Talis spoke so fondly of as his partner.

This was..

"Viktor."

You mumble, remembering his name from mourning his incredible mind that had been burried under Piltover's arrogance. No Zaunite could make it there, even one as amazing as him.

He nods and smiles, his eyes filled with sadness yet as they trail to your schematic it's replaced with determination. Your small notebook quickly taken from its place in one of your pouches, a pencil following it as you get ready to take notes.

He described runes to you, their effects and you two theorized which ones would be better for the job, which ones would work better together. And as the morning bled into the afternoon, the young Herald seemed less holy and more human. His usual poise and calm melting into excitement, ideas brightening his eyes, calculations and explanations flowing from his mouth, punctuated by his accent. One you could hear so much down here.

You could see in him, how he's made it so far as a scientist. His passion was unrivalled, the fire in his soul unable to be tamed and only growing stronger the more he learned about the world.

He was a good man.

A great man.

And he did all he could to help, no matter what it cost him.

So you took great care to listen, quipping in whenever you could when you couldn't understand, when you felt like you could add onto the discussion, and he seemed happier each time you did.

Soon you decide that you've worked enough, Viktor needing to return to Vander, and you home. Feeling exhausted from the way you've been pushing yourself. The man gets up and extends a hand towards you, slowly wrapping his fingers around yours as you let him help you up. You make a detour towards the green house so you can pick a few bulbous plants, full with enough sap that Samira could experiment for a while before you had to come back for more. You will give them to her tomorrow.

"Silco is lucky to have someone like you."

You groan.

"Please stop, everyone is saying shit like that and I cannot deal with it. He's found his family again, I'll be old news soon enough."

"I do not think so."

"Why?" You turn to him, an inquisitive look glazing your eyes along with the barely contained longing and Viktor has the gall to chuckle.

"You'll see soon enough. You have been avoiding him, haven't you?"

"I'm..Trying to stop all of these.." You gesture to your chest frantically, though your tone is calmer, yet filled to the brim with unsaid emotions. "..Feelings. I don't want to get hurt if he leaves and I don't want to take his friendship for granted. He deserves better."

"If, he leaves."

"If or when...I don't know, I would hope not but I'm not used to being cared for, to having something really good and not just...Whatever it is that my life always does."

"He won't, don't worry about that. But you will have to mention it sometime soon. Avoiding him will only make it worse, absence makes the heart grow fonder, as they say, or it'll hurt the both of you. Take the rest of your time here off, please, I insist."

You sigh and nod at him, eyes trained towards the entrance to the commune as you see flashes of red. Noxian warriors, posted at the gate in their armors, the woman you know as General Ambessa talking to the Huck, the greeter from your first day here, talking to her.

"Viktor?"

"I can see."

"That bitch."

You didn't know the woman personally yet from all of what you've heard, Piltover's dictature was imposed under her watchful eye. Always in the back, planning, killing, manipulating; for what exactly, you didn't know. But you knew enough to understand that her being here isn't just out of the goodness of her heart. Especially after her army had killed and attacked so many of your people over the last year, your hands covered in enough of their warrior blood from defending Zaun. Your weapons, stolen from them, a tribute to your hatred at their belligenrency.

"The doctor.."

Whispers the Herald, a green figure clashing against the Noxian red.

"Go back to Vander, if Ambessa's here I'm sure only misery will follow."

"Very well, do stay safe."

"You too Viktor, take care."

The man nods and the sound of his cane behind you slowly fades away.

You spare one last hate fuelled glare to the gate before entering the tent. Silco is waiting for you there, eyes somber as he gazes at you.

"Out with the Herald, dove?"

"He had insight on the machine Samira and I are working on, he also let me take some of the plants for the sap." You sigh, sitting near him and he grunts.

"I know Sil, you're mad at me for not resting."

"Indeed."

You take his hand in yours.

"The Herald told me to rest, non negociable. I'll be with you the rest of our time here."

He relaxes, a soft sigh escaping him as his other hand undoes his bun, the locks flowing around his shoulders

"Why have you been avoiding me?"

"Thought you'd prefer to spend time with your family."

"You are a part of it, dove."

You chuckle and shake your head.

"Come on now, I'm your friend yes, but family?"

"You are." His eyes grow more gentle. "Why do you keep on insisting that you matter less than you do?"

Your gaze slips from his and he holds your chin to bring it back.

"Why?"

"Because I know you'll leave when Vander's back for good. Jinx is here, Vander is here, Violet too. You have no reason to stay anymore. I knew you could leave anytime before but I guess I just chalked it to you not wanting to be alone. To you respecting me and being grateful. But now that all you've ever wanted is in the palm of your hand, there isn't much I could bring you."

He stands up, the hand holding your chin tilting your head up to follow his movement.

"Do you think so little of yourself?"

You startle. Expecting him to say "do you think so little of me", yet he pinpoints the source of all of this. You don't doubt him, you doubt yourself. Your usefulness. Your worth to him.

"I do."

His face all but crumples, pain evident in his features.

"For how long."

"Long enough. You can't blame someone that has never had anything good for feeling like they'll lose it all in the blink of an eye."

"For Janna's sake, I'm not blaming you. I'm not leaving. What else should I tell you to make you believe that I'll stay? I love Vander and Jinx, I care for Violet even after everything, yet it's not my place anymore."

Your breathing becomes shallow and you blink back tears, frantically fluttering your eyelashes before you squeeze them shut to force the tears away.

"What do you want Silco, really. I'm just, confused."

"What is there to be confused about? Have I not made my stance on this clear enough?"

"Perhaps not. I don't know what could help, I'm sorry Sil."

You did, yet you knew it would never come. This conversation was teetering on an edge you'd rather not cross because you know that you'd fall into an abyss of torment if you did.

I love you.

Those are the words you desperately wanted to hear, the thought of them squeezing your heart tight from within your chest.

"Look at me."

You breathe shakily, lower lashes covered in thick tears as the hand grabbing your chin suddenly shifts to cradle your face.

"What are you so afraid of?"

"I don't know."

To be alone again. Without anyone close, anyone that knows the true me. Without you. Because I love you so much it hurts me to think of living without you by my side.

"Stop lying."

"I'm not."

"Then why are you hiding from me?" He calls out desperately, voice so soft you'd think he was talking to a terrified animal.

Your jaw sets, trying to regain control.

Then a loud, booming sound rings through the quaint town.

And the gentle silence of the evening changes into an echoing scream of pain, parasited by high pitched screeches that shook you to your core. You push yourself from Silco's grasp to rush outside.

Everybody is dropping like flies.

The gilded marks on their faces glowing as they drop boneless, mouths opened wide. No matter where you go, everyone is the same. And then there is the sound of marching, red flags and black armors shining in the dimming light as you make your way through the commune. Disgust filling your throat and anger bubbling beneath your skin as you see Noxians set their warpath into this place of safety and peace.

So you go to Huck's, silently appologizing to Viktor as you take back the weapons he had asked you to surrender. Silco hot on your trail taking his own daggers back. Your panicked rushing making it impossible for you to sheathe your weapons.

"Let's go get Vander and the others, quick!"

He nods and you sniffle as you run to the greenhouse, wiping at your tears with your sleeves before nearly crumbling at the sight in front of you.

Vander was...bleeding. Fire and magma escaping him instead of hemoglobin, growling and screaming as he frantically moves. Violet is standing near Caitlyn, which surprises you because of how much she's done to your people over the past year. Jinx is protecting Isha, one hand keeping the child away from the horrific sight and a Noxian warrior is posted near the man-beast, ready to fight.

Near you, you see Ambessa and her troops within the confines of the commune watching whom you could only theorize as the Kiramman girl, with sheer anger. Betrayal barely masked behind the ugliness of her rage.

The sight behind Vander was just as shocking, Viktor's home is broken. Bits of the stone and stained glass floating in the air as the sky darkens.

Your observation is cut short when Vander attacks the Noxian, beating the man to death with such a vicious ferocity you could only describe him as a monster.

That is when all hell breaks loose.

Ambessa delivers a war cry before she and her troops rush forward to Vander and the girls.

"Come on!" Silco screams, panicked and you follow him, heading straight into the fray.

"Go get the girls! I'll hold them back!"

"No!"

"Do as you're told Silco or there will be no more family to return to!"

Your body shakes in terror and your tears finally escape you freely, this could be the last time you see him. This could be the last time you see him, talk to him, feel him.

So you rush to Silco, your fear of losing him in war stronger than the fear of him leaving you. He reaches for you and your lips meet, the man wobbling back at the force of your embrace, breaths mingling and lips entertwining in a depserate kiss.

When you push back from him his good eye is wide open, the teal ocean cooling the raging blaze of your fears and the orange iris filling you with confident warmth.

"We'll talk later. Don't die out there, or I'll kill you."

And that's when you find yourself surrounded by Noxians, rushing into battle as Vander swipes madly and snarls, your attack not all too dissimilar from his. Desperation, anger, loss, all boiling into a dangerous culmination. Adrenalin stopping you from feeling the pain delivered to you by Ambessa's men as you cut and smash through them, doing as much damage as you can in the presence of a platoon.

Cut, cut, smash, cut, smash. You barely even think to defend yourself, preferring to act like a second distraction so your group could leave, escape, live.

Tears carve through the blood covering your face, your angry snarls nearly as terrifying as Vander's as you fight. In fear at those whom you care about dying, in fear at your dream of a free Zaun crumbling, in anger at how those people had stolen Vander's second chance at life.

Yet through the noise, all the screaming and fighting, you could hear Jinx's voice.

"Isha!"

Turning your head you see her reaching towards Vander, Violet holding her back, Isha under the beast with the blue haired girl's gun glowing bright blue.

Your lungs burn as you scream her name.

Your legs burn as you rush forward.

Your body burns from all the cuts and hits you've been dealt.

Your eyes burn as Silco calls out to you, his voice full of fear and panic, breaking in a way you've never heard before, even less from him.

But you don't stop.

As you push through hordes of Noxians, the weapon glows brighter and brighter, the girl holding it up towards Vander, her other hand shooting towards Jinx as she smiles at her.

And before the worst happens, you reach her.

You take the gun and you throw her away towards Silco, smiling tearfully as you see him scambling towards the child. And it's when you see him rush towards you next that everything goes black.

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[macgyvermedical]

Okay, this is not about writing. I want to learn basic first aid and how to assemble a first aid kit. I plan to search for some courses too, but I’d like a clear idea before diving in. I’d love to hear your advice on it. Always grateful for your blog— it’s such a valuable resource.

Hi!

First aid kits contain things that would be handy to have for an illness or injury you didn't forsee happening.

Store-bought first aid kits have gotten a little better than they were when I bought my first one in 2015, but they're still a complete crapshoot. Most of them contain the least adhesive bandages known to man, a pair of plastic tweezers, a single packet of gauze, two each of acetaminophen and ibuprofen, and if you're extra lucky, some plastic medical tape.

Which is great for: papercuts in fingers that don't sweat ever, cleaning tiny scrapes that don't need bandages, the perfect size of partially embedded splinters, and one (1) single headache. Maybe.

My advice: make your own.

The following are 2 options for lists of supplies:

The Basic Kit:

3-4 pairs of nitrile gloves that will fit over your sweaty, hand-sanitizer-covered hands (mediums if your hands are really tiny, otherwise larges)

1-2 disposable masks for if you get sick unexpectedly

Your favorite adhesive bandages (at least 20, in different sizes including extra large)

A breathing barrier for CPR

A zipper plastic bag

A small container of hand sanitizer

A small container of petroleum jelly

A small tube of hydrocortisone cream

Metal tweezers (and a few alcohol wipes to clean them)

Like 4 of whatever hard candy you hate the most (or 4-8 glucose tablets)

One of those fold-up pill containers containing at least 10 each of: acetaminophen, ibuprofen, 81mg aspirin, diphenhydramine, your favorite non-drowsy antihistamine, and loperamide (Label these. You're not gonna remember which is which. Promise.)

A few each of all the medications you take, just in case you forget them (especially emergency medications)

The Adventure Kit:

Everything in the Basic Kit, plus:

Like as many packets as you can fit of 4x4 sterile gauze

A way to clean water (purification tablets take up the least space)

More of your own medications

More zipper bags

Silk medical tape

Scissors

A bandanna or other medium-large square of fabric

3-4 of your least favorite high-calorie food bars

A waterproof sheet ("space blankets" are small and great at being waterproof, if nothing else (Though I do have a personal vendetta against space blankets. Ask me why sometime))

An elastic bandage

A fold-up splint if you're gonna be in an area that doesn't have sticks laying all over the ground

As for how to use this stuff- get a few friends together and get in touch with me. We can set something up via zoom.

[jobean12-blog]

Only Want You

Pairing: Javier Peña x female reader

Word Count: 807

Summary: Even doing the most simple task Javi is too sexy for you to resist...

Author's Note: My lovely friend @lizette50 sent me a gif which I will show you below that literally got me thinking about how anything this man does is a turn on so here we are! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by @firefly-in-darkness thank you sweet Daisy! 💕

Warnings: mentions of a weapon but only because he's cleaning and checking it, Javi's hands and fingers, some teasing and tensions, he's always soft but the sexiest, a curse or two, fi-n-ger-ing.

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

The sound of the metal sliding along metal wakes you from your satiated sleep and you stretch your limbs across the soft sheets.

As your eyes adjust to the early morning light you see Javi sitting at the small desk near your bed, his upper body bent over the pieces of his gun as he slides an old rag over the metal. His jeans are back on, pulled tightly over his thigh muscles with the wide spread of his legs…legs that barely fit under the piece of furniture.

You don’t make a sound, staring while he begins to put the fragments back together. The short sleeves of his shirt leave his forearms exposed and you see every flex of muscle each time he moves his long fingers to grab and twist the parts.

His dark hair hangs loosely in front of his forehead and his pouty lips are pressed together in concentration.

Suddenly the feel of the sheets is too much against your heated and tingling skin and you push them from your shoulders with a quiet sigh.

Javi’s eyes lift and meet yours.

“Angel,” he says quietly. “Did I wake you?”

“Mm no Javi,” you purr. “I was just enjoying watching you.”

The corner of his mouth lifts into a boyish smirk and he winks.

“I’m almost done.”

“When do you have to leave?” you ask, shifting onto your back as more of the sheet falls from your body to reveal your bare skin.

His gaze lingers on your face for only a second before it travels slowly downward.

“Soon.”

The single word is more of a pained growl and you arch your back with another stretch. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip when his eyes find yours again, now darkened with intense heat.

He drags his eyes away and back to the task in front of him, his jaw now clenched tightly as he grinds his teeth.

You sit up, letting the sheet fall away from your body and then stand from the bed.

Javi’s looks at you from under his dark lashes, his gaze trained on the sway of your hips as you slowly walk toward him.

When you reach the desk you place your hand on his shoulder and swing around until your chest is pressed to his back and your face is nestled in the crook of his neck.

“Don’t stop on my account,” you whisper along his ear. “I told you I like watching you work.”

With a grunt he slides the barrel of the gun down with a hard click and then deftly finishes assembling the weapon.

You let out a small huff of displeasure and dance your fingers down his arms.

“Already done?” you pout.

Instead of answering you he reaches behind and pulls you around until you’re standing between his spread legs.

His hands move teasingly slowly as they trace your curves and find your waist. He pushes the rag and other materials out of the way and lifts you to sit atop the desk.

His thick fingers lift to your mouth, tracing its outline before he gently tugs on your pouting lower lip.

“All done,” he murmurs.

“That’s too bad,” you whisper. “I love when you use your hands.”

You grab his wrist and kiss the tip of each of his fingers. His eyes soften ever so slightly as he brushes his thumb across your cheek and cradles your face, lifting your lips to his.

At first his kiss is just a whisper of his lips, the lightest brush that leaves you desperate for more. With the gentle bump of his nose he dips his head and inhales along the line of your throat.

“Are you already soaked for me angel?”

You suck in a gasp of air. “Javi.”

He trails kisses upwards, stopping just below your ear before he nibbles the soft flesh between his teeth.

Your legs spread invitingly as his other hand moves lower and he captures your lips just as his fingers fall between your thighs.

“Fuck,” he hisses against your lips when his fingers are coated in your wetness.

Every touch is slow and torturous and you squirm on the desk, whining his name.

“You know Steve hates it when I’m late,” he groans as two of his fingers push inside you.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant and rock your hips onto his hand. “More Javi. Harder.”

His hand at your face slides lower until his fingers are wrapped around your throat with gentle pressure.

Your eyes fall to his and your parted lips curve into a devious smile.

He growls softy, tightening his grip on your neck.

“I’m going to have you. Over and over again angel. Until you’re screaming my name and the only thing you feel for the rest of the day is the ache between your legs.”  

@hiddles-rose @littleseasiren @kmc1989 @lorilane33 @lizette50

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

Ferrari Dino 246 GT

This Ferrari Dino 246 GT has undergone a complete and exhaustive Premium Restoration at our Auto Storica facilities. As we have always done for the last thirty years, we begin by completely disassembling and sorting all original parts and spare parts available. Once this was done, the three main routes of the process began simultaneously, on the one hand, the bodywork, made of live sheet metal, on the other hand, the interiors began and finally the technical department of engines and transmissions began with the Complete disassembly of each component to reassemble it again.  Once these processes are completed, the body is prepared for painting and after that the assembly preparations begin, step by step, piece by piece, until the desired perfection and quality is achieved. 

The result is the total reconstruction of this magnificent example, sold new and released in Madrid (Spain) in this elegant combination of Medium Green Metallizzato with Nero Ferrarileather interior.

[smok3r7]

They Always Come Back

Aaron Hotchner x f!reader 

Explicit, 18+ 

Butterflies & Broken Glass

 Main Masterlist & Series Masterlist - My AO3

Summary: You and Aaron met in college, Criminology Major, funny enough. Throughout your five years at George Washington College, you and Hotchner had this on and off again relationship; it was all fun until you started to realize that you loved him. After graduation the two of you cut ties and left it as dumb college love, going your separate ways. After a decade you finally land your dream job, a seat at the BAU; however when you notice the name copied on the email, you can’t believe your eyes.

Chapter Summary: Moving on isn’t always the easiest and honestly takes a long time. But does it ever get better when old wounds get ripped open? 

Word count: 3k

—

 “So,” your mom starts “Are you ready to talk ‘bout, you know, it?” 

   The sound of her knife hitting the cutting board after slicing through a carrot pierces your ears. You don’t answer her, you continue to peel the batch of potatoes and carrots that sit in this metal strainer under a running tap. She also says nothing and continues to chop the vegetables you pass to her as if you’re on an assembly line. 

   You’re not sure if you are, but you’ve avoided it as long as you could. It’s weird that it feels like years ago and, simultaneously, feels like hours ago. But it’s been three months, going on four next week. The reality of the break up, however, hit you the second week you came home, and it was brutal. 

   And since then, you haven’t been the same. 

   Bella and Kelly have tried everything to help you; consistent phone calls from Kels since she’s still in DC, and Bella coming over whenever she can - which is all the time. But you just can’t shake the utter pain and heartbreak that pours out of your skin, and the only person who can help you through this, is your mom. 

   She’s been through most, if not all, of the hardest and toughest things you’ve been dealt with. She’s your real ride or die bestie. So even though you're not ready to discuss it, evidently you have to - for your own sake. If you’re going to move on with your life, move on from Aaron Hotchner, you have to talk about it. 

   “Not much to talk about, really.” You lie one more time. You’re not sure why you do - you chalk it up to your subconscious mind not being ready to properly handle this or that your mom will drop it. 

   The sound of your moms chopping stops and you hear her sigh. She’s not gonna leave it alone. The cold water flows through your fingers, causing them to go numb and start to sting when there are no vegetables left to rinse. So you know you’re stuck listening to what she has to say, so you figure you might as well just take it. 

   “Well, I’m tired of you sittin’ on your ass ‘n mopin’ around all fuckin’ day for the past few months. That’s not the daughter I raised.” By the loudness of her words you can tell she’s now facing you, but you’re too afraid to turn around. Too embarrassed. Too ashamed of yourself. 

   She barks your name and orders you to turn the water off and look at her, which you do, but not before you grab a sheet of paper towel to dry your stinging hands. You do this very slowly, to the point where you feel like it’s in slow motion. You know she’s not going to do anything but just try to understand where your head is at, and maybe scold you just a bit because of your actions - or lack of, for that matter - but you know she means well and she just wants to make sure her little girl is okay. 

   Looking into her eyes, you break. The bubble in your throat finally bursts. As you lunge forward, your moms arms open and welcome you with love and affection as she wraps her arms tightly around your shoulders. 

   You cry and cry, until no tears are left. 

—

   Your senses are overwhelmed; the smells of plants and people from the park overpower you, the sight of the masses of people panics you just a little, and the sound of music playing in one ear and screams of small children on the playground in the other keeps you alert. Your heart feels like it’s going to jump out of your chest, while your lungs work overtime to keep you going - the cool morning weather making it harder to catch your breath. 

   The white gazebo is now within sight as you jog past the large playground that’s packed with children of all ages with their families. Saturdays during the summer are the busiest days at Richmond park, so you always take that into account when you go on your daily run. 

   But this morning is different. Instead of going to your usual civil court office, like you have for the past eleven years, you’re waiting on an important email from Erin Strauss. The section chief of the BAU in Quantico, the very job you’ve been working so hard for. Your second interview was three days ago and it went pretty well considering how judgmental and difficult Strauss was. 

   You honestly weren’t sure if you were going to get the job because Strauss was picking apart every tiny thing about you; where and how you grew up, what college you attended, what’s so important about joining the BAU, and whether you can hold your own when it comes to a career with something like the FBI. You felt like you were being stabbed with each one of her questions, but you figured that she’s just like that, with a job requiring a brutal sort of honesty.

   Catching your breath, you raise your arms above your head and fold them over so the air can flow freely through your body. Standing on the steps of the gazebo, you step in a small circle to get a bearing on your surroundings, making sure to note anything that seems out of the ordinary. Too many women have been getting assaulted or mugged recently, so you’re always scanning your environment. To add another element of security, you own a black 9mm, which is currently in your car in the parking lot just a few feet away. You have your carry permit, but it doesn’t do much good when you’re in leggings and a sports bra. 

   Your mom was extremely concerned about you living by yourself and forty-five miles away from her, so she and Anthony convinced you to go to the gun range to become familiar. Then, after about four months of that, you decided you felt comfortable and educated enough to own a gun, for your safety. 

   While doing one last spin, you lower your arms and reach for your phone in your side pocket. Your breathing is now steady and regulated, so you can focus more on yourself and your surroundings. 

   Pausing your music and taking out your one earbud, you notice an email from Strauss and you instantly feel proud. You really did it, you really made it to your dream job. It felt almost impossible; after eleven years, you were about to give up hope about this job. But your inner child put up a huge fight against it and ultimately won. There was no way in hell that you would give up on this dream of yours. It was going to happen one way or another. 

   You open the email as you start walking to your car, but before you can read past the names copied in the email, you freeze. 

   Your stomach drops to the cement below your sneakers, your heart rate increases rapidly, and your mind somehow is silent but screaming at the same time. There’s no way this is possible, you never thought this would happen. 

   Hotchner, Aaron

   —

   “You haven’t even seen him since graduation right?” 

   “Kels…yes! I never thought I’d ever see him again, let alone have to work with him, under him even!” 

   “Under him, hehe,” Bella murmurs to herself into her glass of wine as she takes a sip. 

   You glance to your right and she diverts her eyes to her feet, away from your judgy eyes.

   Immediately after you received the email and got back into your car to head back to your house, you called the girls over for a wine and bitch night. Something the three of you started once Kelly ended things with Jason six years ago and moved five minutes away from you and Bella, who lives only four houses apart. 

   Kelly has her own law firm and has done extremely well for herself. However, you do feel bad about how Jason and her ended things. Long story short, she caught him bringing random women back to their home constantly. But what makes it even worse is they have a seven year old daughter. A newborn at the time she kicked him out and never wanted to see him again, Jason hasn’t seen his daughter since then either. 

   You have no idea how Kelly is still able to be this bubbly person, but she is. You and Bella help Kelly whenever she needs it, especially when it comes to her daughter Lilly; babysitting, picking up or dropping off from school, picking up dinner some nights, and anything else. 

   You’ll be damned if anything else happens to Kelly and Lilly, they are least deserving of any treatment like that from Jason. 

   “So, have you replied to her email?” Bella questions as she takes a bite of stringy pizza, wiping the corners of her mouth after. 

   “She told me I didn’t have to. Just to make sure I read it before I go in on Wednesday, which I thought was a weird day to start but what do I know?” 

   “So, like… how are you feelin’ about all this?” Bella chimes in again, but with a tone that lets you know she is trying to be sincere. 

   Your right hand instinctively raises to your necklace and you start to fidget with it … the heart necklace from Aaron. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. You really don’t know how to feel about this, especially when you erased him from your memory almost completely so you could figure out how to move on. 

   After so long, the thought of Aaron became less and less, even though you still wear the one piece of jewelry from him. It’s been the one thing that you haven’t been able to let go of and you haven’t had a reason to understand why, but now it almost seems like this was meant to happen. The universe never wanted you to forget about him, but you also wonder if he’s ever stopped thinking about you. 

   He had to have noticed your name, just like you did his. But what does that mean? You wonder if he had any say in hiring you or if this is all Strauss’s work, because those two things have very different meanings behind them and those two people have very different motives. 

   “Do you think you’ll be okay?” Bella sits up and rests her hand on your bare thigh, shaking you back to reality. 

   You raise your eyes to her and give the best fake smile you can show and lightly nod your head, I’m gonna try. 

—

   You have an excellent first day baby, call me when you’re home. Love you! 

   Standing in the elevator, you read your moms text message with a warm smile. You didn't tell her about Aaron being your boss, that’ll be a deep conversation for later. 

   Thank you, love you mama! 

   The elevator dings, stops and the metal door slides open before a gorgeous, black haired woman walks in, and you both give a slight smile to each other as you move to give her some room. She goes to press the number six, for the BAU, but she notices you already have it pressed. 

   “Oh, you must be the new girl that Hotch was telling everyone about,” she confidently tells you. “Emily Prentiss.” She reaches her hand out, which you confidently take and introduce yourself to her. 

   So he does remember me…what did he tell them? 

   “Welcome to the world of horrible things people are capable of, you’ll come to learn a lot!” She shakes her head slightly, “But it seems like you can stomach it, I mean, you made it into the BAU which is huge in itself.” 

   The same time you chuckle, the metal doors open again and you’re met with a small hallway with glass doors that have the Seal of the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s logo on them. It’s busy with agents walking from one hallway to the other, all on a mission (or at least that’s what it looks like). You can finally release that breath that’s been sitting in your chest since you woke up this morning. 

   “Well, let’s go introduce you to the team,” Emily announces as she slightly nudges your lower back, “I got you, girl, don’t worry.” 

   Turning your body to the side so she can lead the way, you smile, “Thank you.” 

   Now, past the glass doors, you’re met with an open layout office with desks together to make squares. Emily walks past the first couple and heads to the next set, where a group of four gather around one’s desk. Your nerves build just a little bit, but you shove them down for your first impressions. You’re not going to allow Aaron the satisfaction of knowing he’s messing with your head. 

   “Listen up, kids!” Emily announces, catching everyone’s attention but you see how all their eyes move to you and then back to Emily. She steps to the side, almost showcasing you off to them as she tells them your name and that you’re officially joining the team. 

   With your leather brown purse hanging from your shoulder, a large confident smile comes across your face as you wave to them with your right hand, hi guys! 

   “I was just asking J.J when you were coming in, I’m Penelope Garcia!” This vibrant colored blonde reaches her bejeweled wrist out to greet you, which you happily take. 

   “My official first day!” You cheer, “So excited to be a part of your team!” 

   Over the next ten minutes you learn a whole lot about the team. And you overall, love them all already. They’re all just full of character and personality, which you’re always looking for in a work environment.

   J.J, the original liaison turned official Supervisory Special Agent and mom of two healthy boys. Spencer Reid, the impossibly smart guy, you have no clue that anyone could be as smart as him. Derek Morgan, the player and muscle of the team for sure, this man is flirtatious but in a fun way - he’s not rude or arrogant in the slightest. David Rossi, one of the original FBI agents and the old Italian man that reminds you a lot of what your mom described of her grandfather. Penelope Garcia, the technical genius and the brightest and most animated woman you have ever seen. Emily Prentiss, the pure badass and smartass of the team, is almost a mixture of the team all around. 

   Jokes and history are being shared amongst everyone, but there’s a huge elephant in the room. Even with the laughs from the team, the tension is so thick it could be cut with a knife. Where is he? 

   “Dad’s here!” 

   You hear Derek whisper, trying to not make a scene…which doesn’t work because everyone turns their head. Everyone except you. You’re caught staring at J.J, who sits in her office chair with her blonde eyebrows raised, and her lips purse as she slowly spins to face her desk. 

   Morning. 

   There it is. The voice you’ve ached to be able to hear again, but will deny if ever asked. From the one and only man you’ve ever longed for and have loved since you met him over a lifetime ago. The man you’ve lost sleep over from just wishing you could redo it all over so you and him didn’t go separate ways. The voice that distracts you from work when you’re alone in your office and you’re not sure why. The memories of you and him on date nights flourish your brain when you’re with friends, even though you thought you and him were done completely. The voice you thought you had erased from your memory, but just like that, the memories and feelings come right back like you’re in college again. 

   Aaron. 

   Just like that, he stops dead in his tracks. His back now to you about a desk away, his broad shoulders tense under his black suit. You watch the way his back stiffens and he takes a deep breath in and stands for a moment, but he doesn’t turn around. You’re not sure why you said his name just now, it’s almost scary how natural his name spewed out of your mouth. There was just no way that you couldn’t not say anything to him right now, it just didn’t seem right. 

   My office is all he says with the most monotone voice you have ever heard from him. You’re almost speechless, almost. You can’t help but chuckle to yourself as you push your tongue into the side of your left cheek - what in the fuck? If he’s going to make this into a thing that it doesn’t need to be, you’re going to lose your shit because you know he can be an adult when it’s needed. 

   “Uh oh, trouble in paradise…” Derek mumbles with a smile that goes from ear to ear. Garcia hits his arm and tells him to shut up, but you can’t help but laugh at him. 

   “Little do you know, pretty boy.” You crack back at him with a wink as you start your way towards the small set of steps that lead to his office. A small giggle fest starts behind you and you can’t help but feel incredible, you’re fitting in so well already and you’re honestly not even worried about what Aaron will do or say. 

   You already know this job is going to be tough. 

   But so worth it. 

[copperbadge]

I came home last night and as I usually do, unpacked pretty much immediately; as I moved from room to room I kept being confused because parts of my home seemed weirdly clean. And then I'd remember "Oh yeah...because I cleaned it."

I did work on digital cleaning the entire time I was in Texas but it was tough to write about, mainly because I didn't get a ton of time to write in general. But getting back home again...

[ID: Two images of a three-tier metal cart from Ikea, the Rashult, fully assembled; the first shows it in the living room after being built, and the second show it in its new home under my kitchen worktable, next to a chest of drawers, filled with tupperware.]

I finally came to the conclusion that trying to keep all my tupperware in a cabinet simply wasn't working, so I bought a cart that I knew would fit under the table and finally got to assemble and fill it. Thanks @deesarrachi for suggesting this kind of cart on a previous post!

Assembling the cart and filling it with storage containers -- including sorting the containers to make sure no container went in without its lid -- took up pretty much an entire 52-minute episode of The Worst Idea of All Time, though I also used some of that time to scrub the grease off the kitchen hood and cover it with adhesive plastic that I can just change out every so often. And I changed the sheets on the bed since I needed to do laundry anyway, so tonight I go to bed with an organized tupperware shelf and new bedlinens, like I'm my own stereotypical 1950s housewife.

As we get to the end of the month I'm taking stock of what I got accomplished and while I didn't do some things I normally do (scrub the bathroom down and steam-clean some high-traffic areas, mainly) I did accomplish a lot of more permanent things. The bathroom will always get dirty again, but -- for example -- the tupperware has a new permanent home where it will stay more organized.

And I've still got a few days left! I have more than a few days' worth of work, but the momentum may carry me into December, and if not at least I have a list of stuff to do once I've had a bit of a break. And for today I get to rest, because tomorrow I'm back to work and the week will be busy. Feeling pretty accomplished right now, though.

[randomthefox]

You know what would make an AMAZING short animation for Sonic? While Eggman is trying to create a new robot after his latest defeat, he gets bored and gloomy. He's a bit down from getting kicked in the ass by Sonic all the time. But then he gets the brilliant idea of pranking everyone to get back at them and cure his boredom. Eggman would be SO great at pulling pranks. XD

I can picture that really vividly. Camera showing a view of Eggmans workshop in the dark. Suddenly the door swings open with the light flooding in, Eggman stomping his way inside nursing a big bandage cross on the top of his head and picking blue quills out of his butt.

Grumbling he slams his way into his work chair and swivels to his building station, already pulling out schematics and blueprints to start designing his next scheme. But his foot bumps against a trash can which is filled with crumpled up blueprint paper, he fishes a few out and unwraps them to inspect and sees they're the discarded schematics from boss mechas from previous games. Going through each and every design which was attempted, and destroyed. At first with an angry expression on his face, but then it starts to get more sullen and depressed as he goes through sheet after sheet after sheet after sheet after sheet. Each and every one was a failure. Maybe even complete with a little sketch doodle animation on the blueprint paper of Sonic breaking the mecha and laughing in a little squeaky voice.

Eggman slumps over the desk with his head in his hands, tugging at his mustache in frustration. Combing through a literal pile of his failed past schemes is making him gloomy. He pushes away from his work desk and just staggers out of the room and starts idly roaming through his base. Inspecting the assembly lines. Looking over animal containment cages. His badniks manning those stations stiffening up nervously from his presence, but Eggman is basically just doing this meme.

Eventually as he's milling around listlessly he trips on a pile of nuts and bolts and falls flat on his ass. The badniks nearby when it happens scatter in fear of an ensuing tantrum. But he just lays on his back for a few seconds. Then he sits up and looks down at the stuff he tripped on, and toes at the pile for a second. Then his eyes widen and a big twinkle comes to his face and he starts grinning wide and huge as inspiration strikes.

Cut to Knuckles walking around on Angel Island, wandering around just on patrol. Then he struts back to where the master emerald only to stop and gawk with shocked horror. The camera panning around to show the emerald had toilet paper flung across the entire shrine and dripping yoke and broken egg shells from tossed eggs splattered all over it. Knuckles starts stomping around and raging while the camera pulls back showing Eggman hiding in the bushes cackling to himself.

Cut to Amy walking home while holding a bag of groceries, and once she gets in front of her door she pulls out the keys to unlock it and go inside, but once she tries stepping into the house she trips and falls flat dropping her grocery bag. She pushes up with a startle and looks down, and finding that her feet are stuck to the welcome mat which has been turned into a glue trap! She double takes with confusion, then glances up and looks around left to right in surprise at the sound of Eggman howling with laughter in the distance.

Cut to Tails in his hanger working on the Tornado, he takes a break wiping his brow and going over to his work desk to pop a mint into his mouth. Only to grimace and scrunch his face up, then coughs the mint out and sticks his tongue out while clutching at his throat. He frowns and inspects the mint and finds his entire bowl of candy has been replaced with what is conspicuously just metal nuts that have been painted to look like mints. Tails frowns and turns around and then gasps to find that the Tornado is sitting on top of cinderblocks, the landing gear wheels missing like a hub cap jacking.

Cut to Sonic sleeping under a tree in the shade, only for the shade to darken into a shadow as Eggman looms over him. Pov turning back to show Eggmans grinning laughing face as he leans in towards the camera until he fills up the entire frame with darkness. Then cut to later in the day with the camera sitting behind Sonics shoulder, he yawns awake and stretches. Suddenly Knuckles Amy and Tails all show up, all of them carrying the indications of their pranks Knuckles holding the entire master emerald aloft Amy stumbling with glue still on her feet and Tails holding the bowl of nut mints. They all converge in front of Sonic starting to chirp and complain, only to stop and stare as Sonic stands up and regards them with confused concern with the camera still looking just behind his shoulder. Then all three of them burst into laughter looking at Sonic, and the camera sweeps around showing Sonic's face - completely drawn over with magic marker making a fake mustache black eye and monocle and other silly scribbles all across him from chin to forehead while Sonic just looks baffled.

Cut back to Eggmans workshop just as Eggman is sitting back down at his desk, smiling and sighing with rejuvenated energy. Then he pulls out a fresh blueprint sheet and starts drawing away at a new mech design, the camera slowly pulling away while he giggles under his breath as he draws and some jaunty midi tune cover of E.G.G.M.A.N. plays out the video before it cuts to credits.

[th3-0bjectivist]

My visit to the NASCAR Hall of Fame (Charlotte, NC - JUN 29 2024)

Every year for a few years now, I try to do an Independence Day post where I walk around a few cemeteries and snap some cool photos. But this is an election year, and I'm concerned that I'm going to have to soft-block some political zealot high on their own farts that will leave intellectual gems in the comments like 'Drumpf IZ Hitler!' or 'down with left-cucks in 24!'. So instead, I'm going to share some pictures that I took at the NASCAR Hall of Fame in Charlotte, and you can leave all the unrelated jabbering political frivolity that you'd like in the comments section.

For the record, I'm not into NASCAR at all. I haven't watched a full single race in my lifetime, and I tend to associate it with rednecks driving in circles. Which, to my chagrin, I was dead wrong in my interpretation on. Well, except for the redneck part. There's a hell of a lot more to these beautiful cars than I thought. My visit to this specialized museum was a delicate mix of history, art and science lessons!

The first thing I learned is that although these cars look fully assembled from the outside, they have nearly all the standard parts taken out (the radio, the average driver wheel, the headlights, etc.) and the bodies are composed of a flat sheet of durable metal. These days the car panels, which are composite materials like plastic coated with fibreglass, are then painted over to make a colorful, and often very corporate piece of art that is ready to drive at breakneck speeds. This all makes the modified car as light and agile as possible on the speedway.

In the U.S. south, where I reside these days, stock car racing's roots took hold from prohibition. Stock car racing wasn't just about competition; it was about taking your very fast car and running moonshine and illegally imported booze to different regions around Appalachia. Getting away from highway patrol meant stripping your car of excessive weight and parts, allowing for maximum maneuverability around hairpin turns and extreme acceleration up and down steep hills… all while a 1000-pound barrel of booze was strapped down in the back seat.

This is a picture I snapped inside the Hall of Honor, and that man is Richard 'the King' Petty. As a non-NASCAR fan, his face is the face I most associate with NASCAR, as his signature moustache, glasses and hat stand out to me as a truly memorable and iconic driver. But it’s not just the driver that participates. In NASCAR, your team is composed of a chief, who spots opportunities from television monitors and signals the driver through radio to execute specific moves to win the race, all while managing the rest of the team.

The pit crew consists of mechanics, a jackman (runs around the car with a heavy jack to raise the automobile during a maintenance pit stop), a cut-off valve attendant for refuelling, and a driver attendant who helps the driver get in and out of the car. It doesn't just take an individual driver, but a full team to assist the driver in winning the race. Drivers have suffered concussions, bone fractures, severe burns, whiplash, traumatic bodily injuries and death. Talk about bleeding for your craft!

And now for some art! Pictured above is a full-scale clay model of a Next Gen Ford Mustang. These days, clay models of racing cars are developed from digital designs and used to capture approvals from companies to lay down a final design for a race-worthy automobile. Once you pack a V-8 engine into one of these babies and recreate it out of a steel tube frame, you've got a vehicle that can reach speeds above 200 miles per hour.

Here's my pops, Dave, who I took to this museum as a birthday present. He's a NASCAR freak, and this little excursion to the Hall of Fame actually made him cry for a beat as he recalled decades worth of memories of racers, historic moments, and images of historic back-to-back victories for drivers and their teams.

Every car has the potential to be a race car. It just takes some weight-loss surgery or a good initial design, some driver safety features, and a colorful skin to make the whole thing faster, more agile, and more appealing to the eye. I have to say I never expected to absorb so much from the NASCAR HoF. I was grateful for my visit and wanted to share a portion of what I learned to Tumblr as a fun little sidebar.

I hope you enjoyed this post. And rest assured, you will never see another NASCAR post on my page ever again… y'know, unless it’s a meme or something!

Happy 4th,

th3-0bjectivist (Luke)

[ADDENDUM (07/05/2024): Tumblr ryanthedemiboy pointed out to me in the comments that the third paragraph in this post probably needed some modifications regarding the actual description of the panels, which I originally and ignorantly described as an ‘outer metal hull’. While this might have been the case with older NASCAR vehicles, in modern times the panels are at best ‘metal-skinned’, if that, and manufactured from carbon fibre. Also, older NASCAR vehicles were painted and repainted, but ever since the early 2000’s these vehicles are simply wrapped in a vinyl skin. Thank you for your insight ryanthedemiboy, I will ‘stay in my lane’ so to speak in the future and give these topics, that are alien to me, the research they deserve before I post!]

[eremji]

WIP Wednesday

Messing around with some fun little writing exercise snippets for the #TF Mecha AU. This was definitely just an excuse to try writing something action-heavy, since so many of my other current WIPs are so scenic and talky.

The Escaflowne -> Gundam -> Evangelion -> Pac Rim -> Transformers pipeline has really done it for me over the last few decades and I cannot stop writing Big Machines.

Human!Mechanic Ratchet tickles something in my brain. I love putting men in their 40s with back pain in Situations and Predicaments. My working take is he's still working for an organization he hates, but he's too old for this shit, he resents his job, and is perfectly set up to have an eventual midlife crisis over wanting to date his Bugatti a robot an alien.

///

“How close?” Ratchet calls down at the pilot scaling the massive bot closest to his workstation. He doesn’t know her name, but her bot is Strika, one of the first manufactured models they bought from the Slovenian engineering program. The woman isn’t Strika’s original pilot.

“Half mile, incoming,” she shouts back, hauling herself upwards hand over hand with no harness, corded muscles flexing. “Two minutes.”

Direct contact. He can't just hide in his office and wait for this one to blow over. Fuck. Ratchet kicks his kit closed and crams the prototype knee assembly into an empty storage locker, hoping no one goes digging during the attack. He yanks on the buckles of his climbing harness, running through the safety check at record pace, then seizes one of the rapid descent hooks and flings himself into a three story drop with nothing but a hand brake and blind faith in his equipment.

Ratchet’s teeth rattle painfully as his feet hit the concrete, even though he takes the impact exactly like he's practiced a hundred times – the emergency abseil drills always have padded mats at the bottom and his brain isn’t ready for the reality of hitting hard concrete. He doesn’t go down on his ass, but a spasm of agony jolts up through his hips and spine and he has to stop to catch his breath, queasy.

The massive loading bay doors are already open by the time he recovers, twenty critical seconds of prep lost while the piloted bots are being disgorged into the sheeting rain. He unhooks from the line and snatches one of the combat kits off the storage rack. Three other mechanics are shouldering their repair rigs, already belted into their body armor.

Ratchet hauls on the plate carrier and buckles it with the strong feeling he's going to fucking die. He crams his helmet over his sweaty hair anyways, leaving the visor up. It's too dark and wet outside and the cheap polycarb fogs up no matter how many times they treat it. The repair pack goes on last, weighing him down, heavy coils of electrical patch cabling slung over his shoulder.

He’s out in the rain before he’s ready. His radio picks up a burst of feedback. There’s an unmistakable thunderclap report of a defense missile striking its target, followed by an ear-splitting roar that drowns out all other sound. The Quintesson is either way closer or way larger than he expects and he nearly climbs out of his skin with fear.

Ratchet turns just in time to catch the massive shape backlit against the storm-black sky, ten stories of nightmare. The Quintesson’s energy barrier flashes in a dozen places, incoming weapons fire flickering like red lightning over the glassy surface. It's covered in rain-wet armor plates and undulating tentacles, the massive shark-like mouth already filled with a twisted, sparking heap of metal. Spotlights blink out as the Quintesson takes out one of the substations, plunging everything into darkness.

[onestrangechild]

(Context: A pair of robotic creatures debate the existence of this strange substance called “Adrenaline”)

Rho sat at one of the many tables of the staff lounge aboard the ship, watching a data pad keenly. Another of their kin, Swa, sat down near them

“Query.” Swa’s digital voice broke Rho’s mechanical concentration, their lights regaining focus and color

“Acknowledge.” Rho pinged back

“What are you watching?”

“A human video.”

“Query.”

“Acknowledge.”

“What is the human doing?”

Rho turned the screen towards Swa and they watched together, the lights covering what would be technically their face dimming and fading in color. In the video, a very strong human is doing bench presses, and as he brings the bar to his chest and begins to lift he struggles noticeably. He sputters and grunts, the bar slowly rising a few inches at a time before it clatters against the rack and he sits up. Rho pauses the video and looks to their friend

“Query.” Rho says

“Acknowledge.”

“Did you observe?”

“Query.” Swa looks at Rho, then the screen again as Rho replays just a few seconds

“Observe.” they say, resuming a few seconds before the human put down the bar. Swa stared, compiling a response

“… Affirm. Organic predatory life, such as ‘Humans’, commonly enjoy lifting heavy objects. It serves to strengthen their bodies, impress mates, and ward off other predators.” Swa explained

“Affirm, this is known. Query.” Rho chirped indignantly. Or, as close as machine life could get.

“Acknowledge.”

“Query; Adrenaline.”

“False.”

“Affirm. Challenge.”

With typical machine precision, Rho slowly played back the last few seconds, pausing a few moments each time the human lifted the bar closer to the rack. Swa nodded and looked back to their friend

“Query.”

“The human clearly struggles to lift the entire weight”

“Affirm. Continue.”

“It is almost measurable, the distance the human lifts the weight between-“ the lights on Rho’s “face” began to pulse gradually, a soft whirring sound coming from somewhere inside them “-gasps. Then, at the last show of effort-“ They play the last moment when the human puts the weight down and gets up “- he lifts it far higher. High enough to be an undeniable outlier.”

“… Affirm.”

Swa looks at the screen, lights dimming almost off as they seem deep in thought. They didn’t think it was possible, predatory species being supremely strong is known and accepted, and humans ARE a predatory species, if highly specialized. What Swa couldn’t understand, what logic their brain outright refused to accept is that their bodies would evolve to force them to use less of their strength unless in these “dire emergencies” he hears other humans explain. They rest their head in their hands, hydrolics hissing quietly

“… Query.” Rho says, watching them struggle with this supposed evidence

“Sustaining. Buffering.”

“Query.”

“Query: Why would the human anatomy handicap itself in such a way?” Swa lifted their head, their hand clanking against the sheet metal table

“Unknown.”

This answer doesn’t seem to please Swa, who just sits there, their lights pulsing slowly

“Compare: Humans to Dreere.” Swa finally says a few moments of Deep computing later

“Query.”

“Both are organic specialized predatory species, but one doesn’t have this Adrenaline substance.”

“Correction: Hormone.”

“Affirm. Gratitude.”

“Acknowledge.”

“Query: Why do Dreere not have this Adrenaline hormone?”

Now it was Rho’s time to think. Their lights began to pulse slowly, Swa joining them in thought for a while. Some of the crew saw them, would talk and laugh amongst themselves, before finally one would have an answer

“Wound recovery” Rho soon answered

“Query” Swa chirped, lights brightening as if excited

“Compare: Rites and rituals of Dreere Eipothakae to Human Doctors.”

“Eipothakae are all but holy, assembling their wounded with a care and precision-“ Swa would be interrupted by their friend

“Verse the Human Doctor, who will often not even need to do such extensive repairs, as are common in the Dreere.”

“Acknowledge; because Humans do not use their full strength, the attrition of their musculature is never nearly as pronounced as the Dreere. Their own bodies force them to converse their strength…”

“Query.”

“Affirm, this is a very… sound hypothesis.”

“Shall we show this to the council?”

“Affirm”

Rho and Swa proceed to stand, chatting idly as they walked out

[a-very-tired-raven]

what do their bedrooms look like (boys of your choice)

Nado: He has a very pleasing room to look at. While the overall colors of his room(walls, bedsheet) are a nice sky blue and grey, he has many models of air planes, storm chasing vehicles, and race cars that give a nice vibrant contrast. Not to mention a modest baseball hat and jersey collection donning one wall. He has a regular sized closet.

His room is very neat and organized, saved for a couple playing cards scattered between his model shelf and work desk, a couple pencils and pens left out, a trashcan filled with rejected sketches, and spare model parts laying around.

Also..his bed sheets have clouds on them, the bedframe having engraved stars and tornados, and a signed baseball bat in the corner next to his bed.

Beats: His room is a contrast between being both retro and vintage themed. His room is rather big, as he needs space to relax and practice cordeo when he doesn't want to go to the studio.

Under his bed, and stretching out underneath his desk and tables, he has a very large black rug. It has the same colored shape patterns on it you'd see at old skating rinks. He has numerous vinyl records, tour posters, and glass frames of albums on his wall of his favorite musicians(two of those including two of tangos biggest hitting songs.) He has a huge closet.

In the corner, he has a large bean bag. Next to it, he has a vintage vinyl record table, a very very old radio(both with their own tables.), and a big shelf with a cd player, CDs, and a whiteboard.

His walls are a weird grey green color that fits oddly nice, and he has a full length mirror behind his door.

Boxer: He doesn't have a very big room. It's not small, but it's just big enough to his liking. He has a smaller bed, not too big, and the kind that has shelves underneath as the bedframe. It has a red comforter with a basic pirate design printed all over. The walls are brick, with a smooth floor the same as gym floors. He has a black mat directly in the center of his room, with a punching bag. There's a rack with three hooks right above his bed that he keeps his three hats on.

He has a dart board on the back of his door, weights in the corner of his room, and very very small shelves with vintage comic books. On the bottom of his shelf, is pre-assembled models of two helicopters, a train, and a pirate ship. He also has a couple figures of his favorite heroes made of paperclips that he paid gen to make him. He doesn't have a closet, but does have a very small chest at the foot of his bed and a mini fridge.

Next to his bed he has the skinniest nightstand you'll ever see, with a family photo, and a small box with a ring collection, and a silver watch dead center. His is the only room here without a window

Sap: Sap has a very cozy room. The walls are a lovely maple color, and his floors wooden with a red stain. He has a small walkway from the door to his bed made of carpet.

He has a small closet, though instead of hanging his clothes up, he keeps them in a wooden chest that's inside his closet. Because of this, his closet is pretty empty actually, save for a trashcan, and a suite and hat that's hung up for special occasions.

He has one desk in his room, that's actually pretty big. It has a computer modled from the 2010's, a vintage radio, a stack of journals, a cup holding pens and pencils, and a very very very old rubix cube he got from his Alphys. He only has three things in his walls. A mirror above his nightstand, a huge world map above his bed, and a dart board all alone on his wall across from his bed.

And lastly, he has a cute nightstand next to his bed. It has a photo of him and his brother, a photo of his undyne, a beautiful pocket knife his undyne gave him, and a pack of playing cards in the one drawer that's in it.

Patch: His room is the biggest mix between a hippie vibe and a clinic. He has a hammock for a bed, to which he sleeps with a patchwork blanket. He has a metal desk, with numerous lab equipment, sharped pencils, and notebooks laid across.

On the wall behind his door, he has a bookshelf filled with books, photo albums, CDs, and wood carvings. Next to it, is a huge circular window with a ledge you can sit on. Right next to his hammock is a small bin filled with knitting tools, and he has numerous cross-stitched fabrics on his walls. He also has a huge cage for his pet rats.

[thetkconspiracy]

Welp, two weeks of being back at the weld shop and I’d say they’re happy to have me again since they went ahead and fired the other two and are loading me up with jobs. Guess I’m the head welder now since I’m the only one 😂

Picked up right where I left off 6 months ago with this bad boy, might not look too intimidating but it’s a pretty complicated job. I made the first one before I quit, basically on the fly with no real prints and just some vague verbal instruction from our engineer. Got the system down a little better now. This one isn’t 100% done it still has some final assembly shit to get put on but you get the gist!

Fuck that little guard on top though, I hate sheet metal 😭

[pocket-poly]

I really think putting together furniture is the ultimate relationship test.

Any partnership that can survive fiddly bits, wonky instructions, and still come out on top is pretty special. Bonus points if you two manage to assemble it without killing each other! And if you actually have fun? Dude, you've found someone super special.

I have put together a sheet metal shed before. Let me tell you it's not something for the newbie to DIY. Like it takes some skills. But a minimum of two people.... Redgrasshopper had one to do for a job today. And I offered many times. If you need my help let me know.

We got 4 hrs of work done and we had a lot of fun. Working with someone is a lot different than doing a fun thing casually.

We survived, thrived.. & We had fun

And I'll help him tomorrow with the roof parts lol.

I love this man so much.

"Photo or project done *