#to be the one to hold out in the end that it’s become this self perpetuating thing. you ask them something about one of their lives and they
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ivesambrose · 4 hours ago
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Your Spring 2025 Blessings
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🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼
I intend that everyone has a lovely spring
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- This spring you'll be successfully completing a task or goal that you have been tirelessly working towards for quite a few months. For some of you, this could have been years in the making too. With one thing achieved, you can now move on to something else but don't forget to be in the moment and celebrate this win either. Whatever you have crafted will receive it's recognition too.
- Recovering lost wealth or in simple terms, the money you have spent (or some of you, if you have incurred loss) will come back to you twicefold.
- You'll also feel less lonely. Infact, you'll feel as though a community, person, Friends etc have your back. Which in turn is making you feel secure within yourself.
- New love and emotional renewal for some of you a happy relationship as well. Your cup will be filled. Don't worry.
- A lot of fun, shared joy and celebration with friends/family/found family.
- A new and better environment or home/work space.
- Harmony at home.
- Most of you will be around people who share an alleviated and positive mindset that will in turn lead to you having a better one. You'll have a much better outlook on life. This in turn will make life easier compared to the 'at my wit's end' feeling you may have been having for the couple of months.
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- This spring you'll be blessed with the ability to create a secure and and nurturing life for yourself while balancing everything else with grace. The financial freedom you have been seeking will will come. You'll feel a sense of self sufficiency and a deep sense of confidence in your self worth.
- You'll also be able to take a pause and learn something new. You'll also have a new perspective of things that help you navigate circumstances better instead of feeling like you're stuck.
- If you're a student or pursuing higher education this will also be a promising time for you.
- Realisation that what you fear becomes so insignificant once you take your awareness away from it.
- A possible mentor or guide who helps you learn or hone your existing skills for the better.
- The urge to lead confidently rather than simply follow and be answerable to others.
- A lot of you have been struggling with anxiety or anticipating the worst possible scenarios or outcomes. You may even weed certain friends or people out of your life who are adding to this feeling. This could simply mean that they take more from you than they're willing to give. Others might be dealing with people who simply want to have control over you. But you'll be blessed with the right people, right connections and honest friends who push you out of situations and mindsets that have been constricting you. Your own intuition and wisdom will be a great blessing within itself as well.
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- This spring you're stepping into your power, your untouched potential, waking up and realising that you're not going to hold yourself back anymore. A lot of you will put yourself, your talents, your skills etc out there. You're laser focused on your end goal and vision. So whatever happens in between is simply your means to the end. You want to simply enjoy your journey now, experience your life. And you will.
- Some of you might be getting something you have been wishing for and will keep it a secret from everyone. I also sense some of you will literally run away/flee a place or situation that you can no longer be bothered with.
- Soul searching and finding your own path.
- Offers and opportunities to choose from.
- Finally being able to regulate your nervous system most of you have felt on the edge and don't have the best sleep cycle or healthy lifestyle. This will change.
- Preparing for a summer getaway.
- Unfiltered happiness. So the glow up that shows externally is because you feel that way internally. You'll have plenty of blessings to count even if initially you feel like you're everything on your own. You've always been the lone wolf afterall. But your tribe will find you. Start actually living your life rather than surviving it.
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just-dreaming-marvel · 15 hours ago
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Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 71 ~ Version 1
LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST
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< previous chapter
Word Count: 3,035ish
Summary: You take the cure and deal with the consequences.
Notes: Please send in reactions! Can't believe we're here already. I'm literally crying. HELP PLAN MY NEW LOGAN SERIES HERE.
Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!
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“Are you sure?” Wade asked.
“Yes,” you nodded. “I’ll try for all of you.”
“Then there’s something you need to know.”
“What do you mean?” Laura wondered.
“When you take the cure, it has to be activated.”
“What do you mean it has to be activated?” Logan asked.
“My phoenix ability…” You whispered. “I have to die.”
“What? No! Absolutely not!”
“It’s the only way,” Wade tried to explain.
“So what happens when she dies and doesn’t come back?”
“Then we know that the cure didn’t work,” you say. “No matter what, there’s a chance of it not working.” You looked to Laura. “Do you still want me to try?”
She nodded. “You either die trying or we watch you die a long agonizing death,” she said. 
“Then I die trying.”
“I can help you,” Wade offered. “I can make it painless and—“
“I will do it,” Logan interrupted. There was no room for argument in the way he spoke and the look on his face. “It’s something I have to do.” 
You knew what Logan was thinking, that no one else should bear that weight but him. “Okay,” you whispered. It was no use trying to argue. “Then… I guess it’s time to say goodbye.”
~~~
Per your request, Logan moved you back to your bed. There was no way that you were dying in a blown up pool in your living room. You requested to speak to each of them separately, beginning with Wade.
“I knew I was your favorite,” Wade teased as he came in and shut the door. He waltzed over at sat on the edge of the bed beside you. “That’s why you wanted to talk to me first, huh?”
“Wade,” you smiled. “I really didn’t know I needed you in my life.”
“Everyone needs one of me, Buttercup, especially you.”
You chuckled. “Ain’t that the truth… You need to rekindle things with Vanessa.”
“Buttercup—“
“No. I know that you’ve been busy taking care of me but, no matter what happens, you knew to try with Vanessa. You saved the universe for her. And you both deserve happiness.” You grabbed his hand. “Do that, for me?”
He lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “I’d do anything for my favorite superhero.”
“I know… thank you. Thank for fighting for the universe and finding Logan. Thank you for fighting for me and Laura. Thank you for finding this cure… I’m sorry if he doesn’t work.”
“Hey, it’s not your fault if it doesn’t work. And let’s not talk like that. What if it does work? There’s so much that I want to see from your powers! Once you’re back to your best self, we’re all going to get out of here. Somewhere that you can show off your powers to me and of course, Peanut out there.”
“Deal.”
The room grew quiet, almost choking the two of you.
“I’ll take care of Logan and Laura,” Wade quietly promised.
“Thank you,” you teared up. “And take care of yourself too.”
“I’ll try.” He leaned forward and held a kiss to your head. “You’ll always be my favorite hero, Buttercup… Always.”
You gave his hand a squeeze as he stood up and walked out of the room. You looked up at the ceiling, trying to control the tears. But before you knew it, you were thrown into a coughing fit, choking on ash. Laura rushed in, coming to sit beside you and help you through the cough. Once the cough has died down, you and Laura are holding onto each other, quickly becoming sobbing messes.
“I need you to know how grateful I am that you came into our lives,” you finally said through the tears. “You have been one of the greatest things that has ever happened to my life.”
“Thank you for taking me in,” Laura responded, still crying as well. “Thank you for being the best mom.”
“I need you to listen to me, Laura. I need you to always remember how amazing you are. You have become better than they made you to be and I need you to continue on that path. Okay?”
Laura nodded. “Okay, mom.”
“You finish up school. You find someone to love and who loves you even more. Live a full life, no matter how long you live.”
“It’s going to be hard without you.”
“I know, kiddo, but I also know that you can do it.” You took a deep, strained breath as you pulled the dog tags and ring from around your neck. “These are yours now. Do what you wish with them.” With a trembling hand, Laura took them and held them close to her chest. “I love you so much, Laura.”
“I love you, too, mom.” She leaned forward and wrapped you up in a hug.
You held a kiss to the side of her head. “If this doesn’t work, please don’t mourn too long. Keep going. Keep living.”
“I’ll try.”
“I know you will.” You pulled away and cupped her cheek. “I am so proud of you, kiddo, and will always be.”
~~~
After Laura left, Logan hovered in the doorway. You were laying back on the pile of pillows, eyes closed as you tried to calm your raspy breathing. You were fading fast. Logan could see it and you could feel it. Whether or not you took the cure, there was most likely no tomorrow for you. But the cure was the last hope and Logan couldn’t give up on the happiness he had found with you. He stepped in and shut the door behind him. Your eyes opened and you pressed out a smile for him.
“Lo,” you held out your hand to him. He reached out and took it, taking the needed steps to stand beside you. “Sit, please.” Logan shook his head. “I need you to hold me.”
“I can’t,” his voice broke.
“You don’t have to do this. Wade can help me–”
“No. It has to be me.”
“But it doesn’t… I know that you won’t be able to forgive yourself if this doesn’t work.”
“I can’t bear the thought of anyone else having your death weigh them down or you going through it alone… I love you too much.”
“And I love you too much to have you do this alone.”
“I’m not alone… I have you, baby.”
“Please, hold me, Lo.”
Logan couldn’t resist anymore. He got onto the bed and carefully scooped you up. He pressed a kiss to your temple.
“I need to thank you,” you whispered, unable to stop the emotions and tears.
“For what, doll?”
“For taking care of me and Laura. For making me happier than I have been in years… For mending parts of me that I thought would never heal… I am forever grateful for you.”
“I wish I could have done more… I wish that I could truly take this all away from you.”
“You have done everything you could and more… Kiss me.”
The kiss is urgent, sloppy, and wet, due to the tears streaming down both of your faces. The two of you kept murmuring ‘I love you’ as you kissed, wanting the other to never forget. When you finally break, you stay close, with your foreheads touching and noses brushing.
“You changed my life, baby,” Logan whispered, voice cracking as tears continued to stream down his face. “I never thought I could be happy again… not after everything that has happened and all that I’ve done.”
“You are a good man, Lo. Please don’t ever forget that.”
“I’ll try, darlin’... for you… I’ll make sure that Laura is taken care of. I won’t let her be alone.”
“You two need each other and you need Wade.” Logan chuckled. “I know he drives you crazy, but the three of you have to stick together. None of you should be alone.”
The two of you stay holding each other for a few moments, until the urge to cough becomes too much. Logan holds you as you turn to cough up more ash, your insides burning with pain. When it subsides, you lean back against Logan to catch your breath.
“I’m ready,” you whispered. “Are you?”
“I’m never ready to risk your life, baby… I need you.”
“I know.”
Logan dug the cure out from his pocket and opened it for you to take. You quickly take it like a shot, coughing as it burns on the way down. Logan gently turned you back to face him.
“I love you so much… Always,” he promised.
“I love you, Lo,” you told him.
Logan captured your lips into another kiss. You melted into him. Slowly, his trembling hand formed into a fist as it made its way up your back. His fist stopped at your heart and paused, feeling the frantic beat of it. His kiss grew more urgent as he silently prayed that he’d get to feel your beating heart again. Logan pulled you impossibly closer as he lined up his fist with your heart.
“I love you,” he muttered against your lips before his claws released into your heart.
You gasped before you completely went limp in his arms, not breathing. Logan cradled you close as he sobbed, his claws slowly retracting. 
“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry… Please, come back to me… Come back, baby.”
~~~
Days pass and you still haven’t turned to ash. Your body was still in your bedroom, decaying. No one dared to enter, but the smell has begun to creep out into the rest of the apartment. Laura has been curled up on her bed since Logan came out and told them you were dead. She couldn’t handle it. Logan has barely moved from the table, which was now covered in empty bottles of alcohol. Wade hadn’t sat down in days. He was moving between Laura and Logan, making sure that they were both still alive and breathing.
“We need to decide next steps,” Wade eventually brought up as he set a plate of food in front of Logan. 
Logan growled, clenching the empty beer bottle in his hand, cracking it. “No. She’s coming back.”
“Peanut, she would have been back by now. I’ve read her finals. She’s never decayed before turning to ash before.”
“This is different.”
“Yes, it is, Logan. She’s gone.”
Logan hated the fact that Wade used his name to prove a point. His head snapped in the direction of the hall as he heard shuffling. For a brief moment, Logan hoped but it was crushed when Laura appeared.
“We need to bury her,” she rasped. Logan’s eyes fell to the dog tags and ring that now belonged to her. “She’s not coming back.”
“We can’t give up on her like that!” Logan exclaimed.
“We aren’t giving up on her, Logan. We are respecting her.”
“It’s all my fault, Peanut,” Wade said. He hadn’t been able to stop moving because of the guilt that he was feeling. He brought back a faulty cure. You were now dead because of it. “I should have made sure the cure would work.”
“You’re not the one who killed her,” Logan murmured, eyes falling to the hand that did the deed. “My claws ripped through her heart.”
“Logan,” Laura came up and sat beside the man, “we all know that she wouldn’t have made it through the day anyway… you helped her.”
Logan scoffed. “Whatever.” He grabbed another bottle, tore it open, and took a swig. “Bury her then. I don’t care.”
“Where do you think we should bury her, Little Wolf?” Wade asked.
“Somewhere she loved,” she responded.
~~~
You had told all of them about your cabin in the Canadian Rockies and how you hadn’t been to it in years. Currently, your younger self and your husband still owned the property and Laura knew that neither of you would ever return to it. Laura decided to bury you at the edge of the cliff. Logan and Wade dug the hole and Logan carefully set you down in it before they covered you. Laura had made a similar marker to that of her father’s and placed it at your feet. Logan looked around at the view, the cliff overlooking the valley and the mountain range.
“This is pretty,” Logan muttered. “I can see why they stayed here… I wish that I could have provided something like this for her.” He moved to sit on the edge of the cliff, quickly following while Wade wandered into the cabin.
“Please don’t blame yourself, Logan,” Laura said.
“Who else is there to blame? There’s no one I can go get revenge on. No villain to fight off to protect us… My claws were what tore through her heart… It’s my fault.”
“Your claws are what healed her, Logan. She wasn’t the person in the stories I had heard without my dad and you were able to bring that back to her… to me… Your claws saved her from the pain and heartache that she would have continued to go through until her power completely destroyed her. They saved us from having to watch that.”
Logan nodded. “I’m… I’m going to need you to keep reminding me of that. So I won't give up on myself and walk away… This ain’t going to be easy for me.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t let you walk away.”
“Thanks, kid.” Logan let himself think wistfully for a moment. “Laura… do you believe in an afterlife?”
“I don’t know. I think, maybe now I do. I hope that I’ll see my mom again and… and my dad. What about you?”
“I don’t know with the whole multiverse. I don’t understand how it would work. Like is there an afterlife for each universe or one for the whole multiverse?”
“I don’t know if it matters. I think that maybe, no matter the universe, we’d reunite with our loved ones again.”
“I guess I need some of your faith, kid.” The two fell silent, staring out at the view. “I hope… I hope I see my family and friends again. All of them… And I hope that Y/N is reunited with her James.” 
Laura was taken back by the admission. “You mean that?”
“Every word. Y/N deserves to be with her husband. I was lucky with the time I had and I will always cherish it. I am grateful she loved me as much as she did; in the way she did. I will always miss her and, yes, it hurts that she can’t just be mine. But her James–your dad–got to her first and I will do my best to respect that… Maybe, if there is an after life, I’ll get another chance with my original Y/N.”
“Yeah, maybe… Too bad you’re stuck with me and Wade for now.” She playfully bumped her shoulder into him. 
He huffed out a smile and reached over, pulling her into his side. “Can’t believe I’m saying this, kid, but I wouldn’t want it any other way.” 
Another bout of silence fell between them.
“I miss her so much,” Laura whispered, tearing up.
“Me, too, kid,” Logan responded. “Me, too.”
“Hey! Are you two having an emotional moment without me?!” Wade exclaimed, clambering over. “I can’t believe you two! After all I continue to do for you, this is how–”
“Shut the fuck up, Wade,” Laura and Logan said at the same time.
“Just get over her, loudmouth,” Logan added, motioning for the man to come over.
Wade hurried over and plopped down at Logan’s side, nuzzling his face into Logan’s shoulder.
“Stop that,” Logan murmured.
“Oh, come on, Peanut,” Wade replied. “You know you love me.”
Logan scoffed. “Whatever.”
The three sat there on the edge of the cliff, watching the sunset, and holding onto the small moment of peace within their sea of grief. The three of them were a weird, makeshift family, but each of them knew that they had each other's backs. Always. And that no matter what the future held, they would fight it, together.
~~~
“Come on, princess.”
The voice was familiar but it wasn’t clear. Like you were underwater. Your whole body felt that way: floating and drowning at the same time.
“Open your eyes, sweetheart… You’re safe now.”
It took too much effort, but you eventually opened your eyes. The light surrounding you was blinding. Your hand came up to cover your eyes as they adjusted to the brightness. Once your hand fell down, you gasped.
“James?”
A grin spread across his face. He was much younger than the last time you had seen him. But you would recognize him in a line up of his multiverse counterparts any day. 
“Hey, honey,” your husband smiled.
“James.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, sweetheart, it’s me.” You launched yourself up and wrapped him into your arms. He laughed as he hugged you back and held a kiss to your cheek. 
“It’s been too long.”
“Tell me about it. You didn’t have to watch your wife fall in love with another version of you.”
You pulled back. “You– you saw that?”
“I saw everything, princess.” He cupped your cheeks. “You and Laura stayed strong and stayed together. I’m so proud of you both.”
“I hate that I had to leave her.”
“I know. But we’ll see her again and we can watch over her too. And, I’m sure Logan and Wade won’t leave her on her own.”
“They won’t… Are you mad?”
“Mad about what?”
“That I fell in love again.”
“Not one bit, sweetheart. You deserved to be loved and you have so much love to give. Logan took care of you and Laura when I couldn’t. I will forever owe him for that.”
“I love you, you know? No one could ever compare to you.”
“I love you too, princess.” 
James pulled you in for a long awaited kiss. You sunk into it, tugging him closer to feel him. You couldn’t believe that this was real. That you were back with your husband after all this time.
“I’m never letting go of you again,” he breathed against your lips.
“Good,” you replied. “Because I’m never letting you.”
~~~~
Notes: Thank you for reading and I hope you read the second version of this chapter. If you choose not to, thank you for going on this journey with me. This series was so much fun to write and it was all because of how it was interacted with. I couldn't have made this series what it is without you. Thank you so much and I hope you stick around to see what's to come.
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valacre · 3 days ago
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: ̗̀➛ I Die In My Dreams
Megatron x Reader - transformers prime
Sonorously you sing as the storm whips at your sails and throws sprays of salty water into your eyes, yet you do not falter. Beams of golden light peaks through blackened skies, and bloodied waves towers like mountains as they attempt to sink your ship; they are unsuccessful.
You do not know which direction leads to land. There is no compass, no stars to look upon, but the looming giant whose form is barely discernible within the blackness of the night grows nearer and nearer, pulling you closer even as the storm worsens.
The wood beneath your feet creaks and groans in protest, threatening to break, but still holding; still fighting. Its beating heart pulses dangerously, and you do not know how long it will last. How much more can it take? Your ship is brittle, but you are eternal, doomed to succumb to an unknown fate down in the depths once the wood gives in and the heart stops.
But the giant offers an escape.
He holds out a servo, its digits sharp and deadly, but they pose no true danger to you. Not to you. They will save you, change you, give your ship a new metallic frame which will prolong its life exponentially; but is that your wish?
It's weak and prone to lasting damage, but it fights and tries its best to keep you going for one more day, one more year, no matter how intense the storm becomes. And it loves you. It loves all of you. It gave and continues to give you a chance to experience all that surrounds you, so could you abandon it?
Could you truly take the giant’s servo and let your earthly self be wrecked by the thrashing waves, forever lost as you move on beyond the stars? Can you leave it even as it pleads and claws for you to remain to face your end; to face death as you are?
“Not only are you a waking nightmare,” you say, shuddering as his touch lingers on your flesh, feeling the pulse beneath your skin. “But you haunt my dreams. Will you offer me no reprieve? Am I to face nothing but constant suffering all while you keep those cruel eyes upon me?” You gasp, tears trickling even as he surrounds you, outside and within in equal measure. You loathe and cherish the warmth, the way your voice wavers and sings as he touches your neck, kissing it.
“And yet you do not shy away,” said he, voice oddly soft and warm, a far cry from the tyrant you’d first met. Someone else spoke to you, someone whom Megatron might have long ago buried deep within himself, yet who now had a chance to emerge if only for a moment. “You sing for me, your flesh weeps for me, your soul…” he makes but a single quiet gasp as he lays a servo upon your chest, feeling the heartbeat beneath.
“You have broken me,” you say, crying even as he leans close to kiss the tears away, the red of his optics a gentle hue, embracing you.
“No,” he says, speaking in his true language. “You have broken me.”
And the bloodied rain comes in falls from the giant’s optics as he reaches out; out for you and your eternal soul, but you recoil and fall atop creaking wood, smiling even as anguish torments you and the waves come crashing down; enveloping you in a cold but tender hold as you let go, allowing yourself to return from whence you came. Before flesh, before blood, before life, before the tyrant whom you’d fallen so deeply for.
And as you sink, your eyes closed to the darkness, you cannot see the shape, whose deep profound sadness and regret makes them, dive to you; still reaching, not wishing to pull, but to hold, to follow wherever you go. Be it in life, or in death.
Previous / Next Music: Wojciech Kilar – Ascension
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lesbianherald · 22 days ago
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I was thinking... It seems to me that you mostly like the post-canon character states of Jayce and Viktor? I think you like the more confident and self-aware post-trauma Jayce (when he is present) and the more insecure Viktor, or... As if he has an enormous guilt to overcome.
Will there ever be something more naive from you with their more naive, hopeful and yearning versions?
Coming home (but not to you)
(also, i do have something planned for after my medieval au if the hyperfixation is strong enough and the fandom doesn't tire me out)
update im adding to this because i cant stop thinking about it do people find my coming home jayce... confident? i was very much going for an 'i'm sorry for my migraines' and 'when I'm in the airport in the security I think I magically have a gun' kind of vibe KDLFJHSDkl
also said this in the tags but season 2 didn't even start coming out until chapter 11 the full thing wasn't out until chapter 12 so if they came off post canon inspired that is very unintentional DKJFHSLDFj
#DSKFJHSDFKLJDSF#i also think viktor has much layered insecurities throughout arcane he's not the cool suave guy the fanom pretends he is#but coming home is definetly not representative of them post canon as season 2 didnt come out until after chapter 10#jayce in coming home though boy oh boy that is naive jayce#granted at the end of coming home i think they become very different than who they are on the show#this is intentional#as i feel they learn to develop something very beautiful#i also definetly wrote them as a bit different and more innocent than themselves throughout#as i felt there were ways that the modern world would soften them a bit#so i am surprised to hear this#granted. jayce in coming home does have a big burden of guilt#but id still say i based them on their season 1 selves as i did not have season 2 to go on#idk does that make sense?#i guess you're right in the sense that the other 2 i wrote are post-canon states by design#but by word count alone DKFLJSD#idk though this jayce in my medieval au is more hardened primairly because he's a knight and has seen way more death (and caused it)#but he still has his moments#literally first chapter he tries to hold viktors hand while high on pain medicine and his mom has to tell him to stop#hes not gonna be like.#completely devoid of his yearning traits#in fact id say the yearning for jayce in this one is very very intense#very i want to swear my oaths to YOU kind of thing#idk in coming home i dont find present jayce self aware especially at the start#he BECOMEs self aware but id stay he starts out quite in denial/silly/immature#sorry if this was sassy KDJFHSDKLFj#i just thought huh wow no i very much wrote coming home before there was any post canon to speak of#also jayce in coming home was NOTTTTT supposed to be confident lmfao so if thats the common perception that is very on me#in this medieval AU viktor's deal is pretty different im focusing on different aspects of his character#even with the mass amount of guilt and grief he comes off very witty and confident on the surface and its only through jayce being#obeservational that those walls begin to crumble
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my-thoughts-and-junk · 8 months ago
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i have to think about chilchuck and laios forever
#random thoughts#dungeon meshi#the fact laios is holding back so much anger and he's the one who chilchuck lets out so much of his anger on#like you've seen how many times he beats on him and degrades him and laios just takes it#they're both holding so many secrets from their party like???#chilchuck's entire personal life. laios's interest in monsters and kensuke.#the fact laios somehow hid his interest in eating monsters from the entire party before this???#laios is estranged from his parents and very close with his sister. chilchuck is estranged from his wife and very close with his daughters#chilchuck thinks laios knows him better than anyone else in the party. chilchuck canonically thinks laios is dangerous and unreasonable#which like? reductive but accurate.#laios holds the lives of those he cherishes above all else. the world could go to hell for all he cares as long as those he loves are safe#chilchuck fears intimacy and could never admit how much he values the people around him unless under severe threat#god. i have to read dungeon meshi again. i need to analyze them#one self-sacrificing dumbass and one self-preserving selfish dumbass#laios has problems putting his needs first when it comes to those he loves. i can easily see that conflicting with chilchucks selfishness#i do think after chilchucks failed marriage he would become more hypervigilant in his relationships once he allows himself to date again#like he doesn't necessarily understand what he did wrong but he knows he did something#god the irony of someone so perceptive failing to recognize his wife's needs#imagining chilchuck recognizing laios is not satisfied by something and he asks him abt it and laios is like 'no im fine dont worry abt me'#like fully sincere. laios is used to denying himself what he needs for others#ran away from home when falin was being mistreated. sacrifices his body in the end when he becomes The Big Guy#suppresses himself to try and make others like him more or at least dislike him less#do you think he'd suppress himself at first when in a relationship with chilchuck out of fear of driving him away#chilchuck's perception vs laios's poor masking fight fight fight#god they both fear each other leaving. laios because he fears being like his father and driving chilchuck away like his dad drove him away#and chilchuck because his wife left him and he didn't fully understand Why.#the fact chilchuck thinks laios should act like more of a leader. do you think he fears becoming a poor leader like his dad?#chilchuck trusts and values laios as a leader and that scaring the shit out of both of them 👌👌👌#this is why they're switches okay
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pttucker · 1 year ago
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[Do you want to free the citizens of your industrial complex?] "Free them." [All citizens of the industrial complex are freed from your influence.] [The citizens of the Kim Dokja Industrial Complex have received the 'Escape Scenario'.] [The citizens of the Kim Dokja Industrial Complex can now choose an industrial complex.] [You have acquired a new legendary story!] [The story 'Liberator of the Industrial Complex' has been acquired.] Messages poured out and I left a final message. [Everyone, please leave. I will stop them until everyone leaves.]
Love that we get to see Dokja getting back on his feet so quickly. He may not have been strong enough to fight for First Murim himself, may have believed that the only option was to turn a blind eye as everyone around him began to suffer and die, but not this time. This he can do.
This is how the real Kim Dokja operates.
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soft-serve-soymilk · 8 months ago
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Bitches be fighting (it’s the head children 😘☺️)
#just pav things#We love it when they start yelling at each other 😌#Though there’s only really a select few that yell in this sort of accusatory way and point fingers and I’m thinking of Idyllia!#I did another take on the end of arc 2. Or maybe it’s a continuation of the existing developments#I don’t think she would take very kindly to the two boys having their mini-argument right in front of her (who would?)#And she would ESPECIALLY not take kindly to Dism calling Inigo a. y’know. murderer ✨🌈#I think she has some inner empathy towards Inigo even if she doesn’t say it yet (they both know they share similar feelings towards Archie)#They both feel like they failed Archie and wear that on their shoulders (albeit in complementary ways)#Of course this is Arc 2 and they’re still offput by each other. it’s uncomfortable to look at someone else and see yourself.#So she would slap Dism for his callousness :))) and then berate them both for their self-absorbed nature#Very in line with how she yells at Archie in Arc 3 for much the same thing :3#She perceives it as cowardice in both situations ✨ Dism being unable to admit he made a mistake and Archie unable to get over himself#and finally reunite with his brother instead of stringing things along#She gets angry because she dislikes that quality in herself :3#Anyways it’s fun to see how the head children react when they’re upset ❤️#Dism loses all tact and will say anything that comes to his mind. Very snide in his wording.#He loses his inhibitions and lets his shadow side come out to say what he ‘really’ thinks about others#Inigo who delicately holds himself together 24/7 struggles under duress and becomes irrational and hysterical#Jumps to conclusions WAY too quickly#Archie who hates himself more than anything is able to bear pain without lashing out#He directs his pain inward. He was never one for fighting.#Cynthia becomes very quiet and teary and unsure of herself. A stark contrast to her normal demeanour ✨#And as for Archie’s kids. Theon becomes very aggressive and physical (violence is the answer >:3)#Luna would just burst into tears if you made her upset :(#And Ewan takes half of Dism’s approach and half of Theon’s#Which honestly explains why he gets into so many scrapes. 0 conflict resolution skills ✨✨✨✨
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trollbreak · 1 year ago
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Man I need an unhappy but stubborn marriage ship huh
#I was gonna say another one but fluent in violence was just. those bitches clawin at each other lol#it was straightforward#the um. the time enough together build resentment is what I mean. the brief glimmers of adoration and remembering why they signed up for#this. even if they were willing to split up they’d never do it because the public image. the stubborn unbreakable loyalty. nobody else can#touch you but I’ll never give you a soft hand. not except those aching moments where we’re both flayed open and the silence is uncomfortable#because neither of us remembers how to do it. to hold this softness. this care. and then for weeks after they can’t stop thinking about it.#they both crave more of that connection so badly. it’s the sort of relationship where neither of them is necessarily worse than the other#they just. don’t fit together right. but they tried. and they tried. and at some point it became a matter of pride. of ‘um going to Make#this work’. especially if they only got together for social or political purposes or smth. it’s pride on the line and they’d sooner claw out#their teeth than give in now. it’s become a challenge. bend and become something that fits me or break and leave. they’re both so determined#to be the one to hold out in the end that it’s become this self perpetuating thing. you ask them something about one of their lives and they#can both answer it confidently. they know each others lives like the back of their hands. this leads to moments of voices slowly raising#over each other with corrections- although they’d never properly argue here. not with an audience. or it’s a moment of harmony. finishing#each others sentences and falling hand in hand into nostalgia. they each want the other to give in SO badly. they’re never going to ask it.#if they did end up going their own ways. there would be hurt feelings. but they would still care about each other. they’d be better friends#than they ever were as a couple but they refuse to consider that. do u SEE WHAT IM SAYING#< found that one playlist again
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kashverse · 12 days ago
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the first time you found nanami huddled in your shared room, you almost called an ambulance. huddling wasn’t exactly his thing. was he sick? dying? both? your mind raced through scenarios of him stoically hiding a terminal illness because “it’s not proper to trouble others.” but as you cautiously approached, ready to demand answers, you noticed the makeshift fort he’d built from your shared bedding. not just that—he’d constructed a fortress of books, an outright barricade. he looked up from his current read, glasses perched on his nose, and said, “it’s my day off.” oh. that was... anticlimactic. turns out, nanami decompresses by becoming a literature troll.
the first time you found gojo huddled in your shared room, you didn’t panic—you assumed he was trying to weasel his way out of work. which, frankly, was strange, given how much he adored tormenting his students with nonsensical training exercises. but when you walked in, the room was a battlefield. wrappers. so many wrappers. chocolates, gummies, cookies, things you weren’t even sure were technically edible. gojo lay in the middle of it, like some sugary war general, twirling a lollipop stick between his fingers. “self-care, babe,” he said with a grin, crumbs everywhere. you left him to it, but not before muttering about how cleaning up was also self-care.
the first time you found geto huddled in your shared room, your heart sank. geto huddling was a bad sign. you thought he was doing okay, considering everything—therapy sessions, reconnecting with friends, the works. but then you noticed what he was holding. a single strand of hair. his hair. your brain struggled to compute. “it’s broken,” he muttered, eyes fixed on the offending strand. “this means split ends, doesn’t it?” you blinked. his depression wasn’t back; his vanity was. “great. just great,” he sighed dramatically, retreating further into his silk pillow cave. you left him to mourn in peace.
the first time you found toji huddled in your shared room, it was well past his usual working hours. considering he’d only dragged himself home at 4am the previous night, you figured exhaustion had finally caught up to him. toji was not the type to stop moving. ever. “tired?” you asked gently. he looked up, smirking. “nah. retired.” your jaw dropped. retired? as in permanently? the man who treated work like a full-contact sport? but no joke followed. he was serious. you didn’t think you’d ever been happier in your entire life. toji laughed at your dumbfounded expression before pulling you into his ridiculous bear hug. “you’re stuck with me now, sweetheart.”
the first time you found sukuna huddled in your shared room, you froze. mostly because he was snoring. loudly. like a lion on steroids. the man could bring a house down with his sleep volume. you glanced at the peaceful chaos that was your room: one arm hanging off the bed, his face buried into your pillow like it personally offended him, and faint murmurs of incomprehensible sleep-speak. you made a calculated decision and tiptoed out, because waking sukuna from his hibernation seemed like a bad life choice. whatever ancient curse he was dreaming about could wait. better let the man sleep—who knew what destruction he’d bring when he woke up?
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febuwhump · 1 month ago
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FEBUWHUMP 2025 PROMPT LIST
this year's prompts were chosen through an open suggestion poll (in which we received over 4,000 prompts) and a subsequent vote, where 5,019 votes were submitted. the top 28 make up the core prompts, and the febuwhump mod's favourites that remain have become the alternates. the first prompt in the 28, "vocal chords", was our number one prompt of the vote, with 1,625 total votes.
i am so insanely excited to see what you all create with these prompts, and i hope they're inspiring enough to trigger a whole month's worth of creativity for you!
as an extra added challenge, some creators will be undertaking another, smaller goal, of including apples in each of their prompt fills as an ode to the wildly popular prompt suggestion of "apples" that didn't make it through to the poll. this is totally optional, but is a good extra challenge if you'd like to take part in it!
if you have any questions, please check out the faq before sending an ask, or skim the blog's previously asked questions to see if your question has already been answered.
please note: notifying the blog of completionist status will happen through a google form released towards the end of febuwhump, and if you are interested in joining the febuwhmp discord server, the link will be available to do so for one week towards the end of january.
full write-up of prompts and rules under the cut:
FEBUWHUMP 2025 PROMPTS:
DAY 1: vocal chords
DAY 2: holding back tears
DAY 3: pinned down
DAY 4: hivemind
DAY 5: not trusting reality
DAY 6: forced to stay awake
DAY 7: alternate timeline self
DAY 8: bleeding out
DAY 9: necromancy
DAY 10: magic exhaustion
DAY 11: demonic possession
DAY 12: used as practice
DAY 13: “i don’t trust anyone else”
DAY 14: becoming the monster
DAY 15: icarus
DAY 16: eaten alive
DAY 17: power instability
DAY 18: living weapon
DAY 19: death wish
DAY 20: “i did good right?”
DAY 21: put on display
DAY 22: “grab the little one”
DAY 23: gunshot wound
DAY 24: forced to beg
DAY 25: bound and gagged
DAY 26: concealing an injury
DAY 27: post-victory collapse
DAY 28: recovery
ALTERNATE PROMPTS:
is there a specific day’s prompt you don’t want to fill? here are ten alternatives you can switch them out for!
ALT 1: major character death
ALT 2: blowtorch
ALT 3: pick who dies
ALT 4: body swap
ALT 5: die a hero
ALT 6: emergency surgery
ALT 7: body horror
ALT 8: on the run
ALT 9: in another life
ALT 10: feeding tube
RULES:
soft rules:
prompts should be answered in the form of whump
creators can produce any kind of media they want
you don't have to complete all the prompts to take part
you can use the prompts after the event ends
you can complete them in tandem with any other event
you can post to any platform you want, however this blog will only be sharing links and prompt fills posted to tumblr
if you want to be featured on the hall of fame, you must inform this blog by the 3rd of march that you have completed all of the days using the provided form
if you have questions, consult the faq before asking
hard rules:
to be a completionist, you must complete all 28 prompts, in order, in whatever medium you want, before the end of the event
(specifically for being featured on the blog)
when uploading febuwhump content to tumblr, please use the tags:
febuwhump (or febuwhump2025)
the relevant day's tag e.g. febuwhumpday1, febuwhumpday2...
nsfw (if relevant)
any important trigger warnings
you can also tag the blog: @febuwhump
I cannot guarantee your work will be archived on the blog. a random selection of properly tagged works will be reblogged every day of february.
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misswynters · 3 months ago
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𝐆𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐠𝐞
featuring. Ekko x fem!reader
wc. 15.5k
synopsis. Born from house Arvino, one of the richest and influential families of piltover. You had it all from luxurious gifts, fancy meals, a magnificent bedroom and much more. You’re parents gave you everything you asked for. However still never satisfied you. You’re mind always looked at the injustice and suffering zaun was going through. That’s when you first met ekko, the firelights’ leader. Not very happy to have a pilty messing stuff up.
trope. “enemies to lovers”
warnings. slow burn, cursing, blood, kissing 0-0, suggestive
requested. by anon
a/n. slight spoilers for arcane s2, it’s more like enemies to friends to lovers (sorry) if there’s mistakes you don’t see it! aka not proofread (read it thrice) also there’s no war in this :)
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Above, the shimmering towers stood tall, their wealth and power casting long shadows. Below, Zaun suffocated in its neon haze, its people forgotten in the depths of the city’s ambition. Whereas the glow of Piltover’s lights filled the skyline. From the balcony of your family estate, the stark contrast between Piltover and Zaun was undeniable.
“You think your actions are noble, but you’re a fool,” your father’s voice thundered from the dining room. His words, sharp and unyielding, echoed through the halls as you stood silently by the doorway. “Consorting with the undercity rabble is not only dangerous, it’s treacherous.”
“They’re not rabble. They’re people,” you countered, stepping forward with clenched fists. “You act like Zaun doesn’t exist, but they’re suffering because of Piltover’s greed.”
“You don’t understand the world you live in,” your mother added, her tone softer but no less cutting. “House Arvino holds power because we uphold order. Piltover thrives because of people like us. You risk everything with your reckless defiance.”
Frustration boiled within you. “Piltover thrives at the expense of Zaun. Those people deserve better.”
Your father slammed his fist onto the table. “Enough! You are an Arvino, and you will act like one. This rebellion of yours ends now.”
His command hung in the air, suffocating and absolute. You didn’t argue further. Instead, you turned on your heel and left, the weight of their disapproval bearing down on you. You wouldn’t stop. You couldn’t.
Zaun had become a second home to you, even if it was a dangerous one. It was there, in the grimy depths of the undercity, that you had met Ekko. The boy with paint-streaked cheeks and a fire in his eyes had been as wary of you as you had been of him. Unfortunately, you had been too blinded by your own self-righteousness to notice the fire in his eyes. You thought your mission was noble, an act of goodwill to deliver medical supplies to Zaun’s struggling districts. Your family, House Arvino, had always prided itself on maintaining a veneer of philanthropy, even when their true motivations were rooted in politics. You had accompanied a group of Piltover enforcers on the trip, believing your presence would emphasize the importance of the task. You were wrong.
The moment you stepped into the heart of Zaun, the air itself seemed hostile. The tension was palpable, the sharp smell of chemical fumes mixing with the weight of countless wary stares from Zaunites who lined the streets. Your voice was soft and unsure as you addressed the gathered crowd, holding out your hands to show the crates of supplies. You thought you were doing something good, offering some small relief to people who had been forgotten.
But the enforcers who were armed and stoic, turned the scene into something far more sinister. They barked orders at the crowd, waving their weapons to ensure no one got too close. You had tried to intervene, to tell them this wasn’t how it was supposed to go, but your voice was drowned out by the chaos they had already sown.
That was when the boy appeared, the one you heard slight rumors about. At first, you didn’t know exactly who he was, only that he seemed fearless as he stepped forward. Placing himself between the crowd and the enforcers. His voice rang out, cutting through the noise like a blade.
“Another topsider playing savior,” he said, his tone dripping with disdain. “You think you can fix Zaun with scraps from your table?”
You had never been spoken to like that before. His words, sharp and accusatory, made your cheeks burn with anger and embarrassment. You turned to him, trying to keep your composure despite the growing crowd that was watching the confrontation unfold.
“I’m not here to play savior,” you shot back, your voice steady even though your heart was racing. “I’m here to help.”
“Help?” He laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and mocking. “Your kind doesn’t help. You just come down here to feel good about yourselves, then leave us to clean up your mess.”
“I’m trying to make a difference!” you snapped, your frustration boiling over.
His eyes narrowed as he stepped closer, his posture radiating defiance. “If you really wanted to make a difference, you wouldn’t bring enforcers with you like we’re criminals. You’d be standing with us, not above us.”
The words hit harder than you expected. Somewhere deep down, you knew he was right. The enforcers’ presence had turned an act of charity into a display of control, a reminder of Piltover’s dominance over Zaun. But admitting that felt like defeat, and you weren’t ready to back down.
“This isn’t about standing above anyone,” you argued. “I came here because I care. That’s more than most people from Piltover would do.”
“And that’s supposed to make you special?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “Newsflash, princess, Zaun doesn’t need your pity. We need change.”
The enforcers stepped in before the argument could escalate further, pushing the crowd back and ordering you to return to the transport. You left with the weight of his words pressing heavily on your chest, his voice echoing in your mind long after you were gone.
Over the weeks that followed, you found yourself returning to Zaun despite the tension and despite him. Every time you came, he was there, watching you with that same guarded expression. It seemed like he could sense your discomfort, the guilt you carried for what Piltover had done to his home.
“Back again?” he would say, leaning casually against a wall with a smirk that made your blood boil. “Guess you didn’t get the message last time.”
“I’m not here for your approval,” you’d hiss back, your tone dry. “I’m here for the people who actually need help.”
“You think you’re helping?” he’d shoot back, his voice low and laced with frustration. “All you’re doing is putting a bandage on a bullet wound.”
His words stung, not because they were cruel, but because they forced you to confront truths you didn’t want to face. He wasn’t wrong. Everything you did felt small, insignificant compared to the scale of Zaun’s struggles. And yet, you couldn’t stop coming back.
Ekko was unlike anyone you had ever known. He was quick-witted and determined, a rebel who refused to back down in the face of injustice. But he didn’t trust you, not completely. “You’re just another Pilty trying to fix a world you don’t understand,” he had told you once, his voice filled with disdain.
“And you’re just another rebel too angry to see the bigger picture,” you had shot back. Yet despite the constant sparring, you found yourself drawn to him, to the hope buried beneath his frustration.
That hope turned to chaos one night when enforcers raided the Firelights’ hideout. It happened so fast. One moment, you were in the Firelights’ hideout, quietly listening as Ekko outlined plans for their next move against Piltover’s oppression. The next, chaos erupted.
The sound of boots echoed sharply against the metal grates of Zaun’s narrow passages. The enforcers had found the hideout. Your breath caught as the unmistakable clatter of their weapons reverberated through the space. You stood frozen, staring at Ekko as he barked orders to the Firelights around him, his voice sharp and commanding.
“You brought them here, didn’t you?” His words were like a blade, cutting through the noise. His piercing gaze locked onto you, and your stomach churned with guilt.
“I didn’t mean to,” you whispered, but your voice was drowned out by the growing commotion. The enforcers didn’t give anyone time to explain. They swarmed in, their heavy armor gleaming under the dim light, weapons raised. You reached for the nearest object which was a dainty metal rod. And tried stand your ground. You weren’t going to let them harm anyone, not here.
Ekko was already moving, his quick reflexes guiding him as he darted through the chaos. The Firelights fought back, using their intimate knowledge of Zaun’s layout to their advantage. Smoke bombs went off, shrouding the room in thick, stinging fog. He towards you with a slight disgusted look and yelled, “You have to leave, Now!”
“I’m not leaving,” you said, your voice defiant.
“You’ll just slow us down,” he snapped, the frustration in his tone cutting deeper than he intended. “They need me. And you need to go back to your perfect little life, staying safe.”
His words stung, but before you could argue, he vanished into the fray, leaving you behind. You tried to follow, weaving through the chaos, but you weren’t quick enough. An enforcer caught you in the shadows, his grip like iron as he slammed you against the wall. “Here you are.”
However the enforcers were relentless. One of them caught sight of you, his eyes narrowing as he grinned. You swung the rod with the little strength you had left, but it was no match for their training. Pain exploded across your abdomen as he shot you. It nearly missed your stomach, however you crumpled to the ground. Gasping for the little air you could muster.
Through the haze of smoke and pain, Ekko pull something from his belt. A device crackling with vibrant green energy. “Firelights, cover your eyes!” he shouted. The device emitted a blinding flash, followed by a wave of sound that sent the enforcers reeling. Their yells of confusion filled the air as they stumbled back, disoriented and clutching their helmets.
The Firelights seized the opportunity, retreating deeper into the hideout and disappearing into secret tunnels. Ekko crouched beside you, his hands shaking as he lifted your chin. “You okay?” he asked, his voice rough but laced with concern.
Without replied to his question, you stumbled out of his grasp. Going into the streets of Zaun, clutching your side as every step sent searing pain through your body. The world around you blurred, a mix of dim lights and the shadows of the towering structures above.
He was shocked to say the least. ‘Why did you leave so abruptly?’ he questioned himself. Ekko didn’t waste a second, he truly did try to hide it. But as soon as the enforcers were gone and the Firelights were safe, he was out the door. Searching for you and he didn’t want to admit it. He knew didn’t know you as much, but he knew you were stubborn. Matter fact for the short period of time he was with you, he knew you were too stubborn to admit how badly you were hurt.
“Where the hell did you go?” he muttered under his breath, scanning the narrow alleys and dimly lit corners of Zaun. His mind raced with possibilities, each one worse than the last. You were nowhere to be found.
The beating left you crumpled on the ground, your vision blurred and your body trembling with pain. Somehow you managed to drag yourself back to Piltover, every step a battle against the agony that wrecked your body. By the time you stumbled into your family’s estate, the grand halls felt like a mockery of your suffering. Your parents returned hours later to find you collapsed in the foyer, your bruises stark against your weak skin. Their shock quickly turned to anger, though it was born of fear.
“This is what happens when you defy us,” your father said, his voice shaking with fury. “Do you see now? You can’t change the world. You can only get yourself killed.”
“I trying to help,” you murmured, your voice weak but resolute.
“They are not your people,” your mother said, her tone filled with a mix of pity and frustration. “You are our only child. We can’t lose you to some pointless crusade.” Their words lingered, but they didn’t understand. They couldn’t. The divide between Piltover and Zaun wasn’t just physical, it was ideological. You were caught between two worlds, neither one willing to accept you fully. The summons to the Council came the next morning. As you stood in the grand chamber, the weight of their judgment bore down on you. Ambessa Medarda, seated at the center, regarded you with cold disdain.
“You stand accused of undermining Piltover’s authority by associating with the undercity,” she said, her voice sharp and unyielding. “Do you deny these charges?”
“I was just trying to helping people,” you replied exhaustively, your voice steady despite the pain in your ribs.
Ambessa’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “Helping? Piltover thrives because of order. And you, as an Arvino, have brought chaos to our city.”The council murmured their agreement, their disapproval a suffocating presence in the room.
“Your actions were reckless,” Ambessa continued. “And your injuries are your own doing. You clutched the knife and cut yourself on its blade, all in the name of some misguided sympathy for the undercity." Her words felt like another blow, each one landing with precision and force.
You straightened your back, though the pain flared at the effort. "I acted because the people of Zaun are ignored and oppressed. Piltover turns a blind eye while it prospers off their suffering. That's not order, it’s exploitation." The murmurs grew louder, some council members shifting uncomfortably in their seats. But Ambessa didn't waver. Her gaze bore into you, her lips curling with faint amusement.
"Such passion," she mused. "But passion without purpose is just noise. You may think yourself a savior, but all you've done is tarnish your family's name and threaten the stability of our city."
Before you could respond, the chamber doors swung open with a heavy groan, and your parents entered. Dressed in their finest, House Arvino's patriarch and matriarch carried themselves with the grace and dignity that Piltover revered. Yet the tension in their features betrayed their unease.
"Ambessa," your father began, his tone measured but firm. "My child's actions, while impulsive, stem from a place of compassion. Surely the Council can recognize that their intentions were not malicious."
"Compassion?" Ambessa's tone was mocking. "Compassion does not excuse rebellion. House Arvino has always stood for loyalty to Piltover's ideals. Is that no longer the case?"
Your mother stepped forward, her voice calm but resolute. "Our loyalty has never wavered. But to degrade my child in front of this council as if they are a common criminal is unacceptable." Ambessa's expression darkened.
"Unacceptable is your heir jeopardizing the balance we've worked so hard to maintain. Zaun is a powder keg, and actions like theirs threaten to ignite it." You bit your lip to keep from speaking. The words you wanted to hurl at her-at all of them-burned on your tongue, but your mother's warning glance silenced you.
"House Arvino will address this matter internally," your father said, his voice brooking no argument. "We will ensure that such actions are not repeated."
Ambessa leaned back in her chair, studying your parents with a calculating gaze. "See that you do. Piltover cannot afford dissent from within its own ranks." The council murmured their agreement, and the session was adjourned. As you were escorted from the chamber, the weight of the council's disdain hung heavy over you.
Back in the confines of your family's estate, the anger you had suppressed boiled over. You slammed your hands against the polished surface of your desk, the pain in your ribs flaring with the movement. "They're cowards," you spat, your voice trembling with fury. "All of them. Sitting in their gilded towers while Zaun suffers."
"Alright thats enough," your father said sharply, entering the room with your mother close behind. "You don't understand the position you've put us in. House Arvino cannot afford to be seen as weak or disloyal."
"I don't care about any of that!" you shouted, turning to face them. "Zaun doesn't have the luxury of appearances. They're dying while we live in luxury!"
Your mother's expression softened, but her voice was firm. "We understand your frustration. But your actions cannot continue. They will destroy you, and us." Their words echoed Ekko's from the night before, and the parallel struck a chord. You sank into a chair, the fight leaving you as exhaustion took its place. "I can't just stop. Not when I know what's happening down there."
Your father sighed, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Then you must find another way. A way that doesn't make enemies of those who hold power." The conversation ended there, but the fire within you didn't dim. If anything, it burned brighter. You couldn't stop. Not now.
Months have passed since your bruises had faded were a careful balancing act, though you still visited Zaun, slipping away under the guise of errands or charitable outings. But you couldn’t risk your parents catching on. To lessen their suspicions, you began inviting Ekko to your home. It was a calculated move, one that made your absences less frequent and gave the illusion that you’d abandoned your cause entirely.
Your room was a testament to Piltover’s grandeur, a lavish blend of opulence and elegance. High ceilings adorned with intricate gold detailing framed the space. The sheer curtains cascaded from tall windows, filtering moonlight across the polished marble floor. A canopy bed, draped in silken fabrics, sat at the room’s center, its pillows and blankets impossibly soft. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with volumes ranging from engineering texts to poetry. A chandelier, all crystal and gleaming light, hung overhead, casting a warm glow over every corner.
It was in this very room that Ekko sat now, hidden behind the lush velvet curtains of one of the tall windows. Your father had come to check on you earlier, his heavy footsteps unmistakable in the hallway. When he entered, you were seated at your desk, feigning focus on a mundane ledger. He lingered by the door, his gaze sweeping over the room before settling on you. “You’ve been staying home more often,” he observed.
You offered a nonchalant shrug. “I realized it was pointless to keep going there. It’s useless trying to fix what can’t be fixed.”
Your father’s face betrayed nothing, but there was a glimmer of pride in his eyes. “A wise choice,” he said simply, and without another word, he left.
The door clicked shut, and you exhaled slowly, waiting until his footsteps faded down the hall. Then, turning your head slightly, you murmured, “You can come out now.”
Ekko stepped from behind the curtains, his movements silent but confident. He was a great contrast to your room’s pristine elegance. His clothes patched and worn, his presence a reminder of the worlds you tried to somehow balance. “You’re getting good at lying,” he remarked, a teasing edge to his tone.
You rolled your eyes, motioning for him to sit on the plush chair near your desk. “I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t insist on brainstorming plans here.”
“It’s safer,” he replied, settling into the chair and pulling a small notebook from his pocket. “Besides, you’re the one with the luxury of access. If we’re going to unite the cities, we need someone who can work both sides.”
You hated how his words made your heart race. Not because of their weight but because it was Ekko saying them. Somewhere in the months of sneaking around and strategizing, you’d grown to like him in a way that went far beyond friendly admiration. You buried those feelings deep, telling yourself there was no time for distractions.
The hours passed as the two of you pored over maps, scribbled ideas, and argued over logistics. The moon rose higher in the sky, its silver light pouring through the windows and bathing your room in an ethereal glow. Ekko grew quieter as the night wore on, his usual sharp wit replaced by a pensive silence. You noticed his gaze flickering to you more often, lingering for moments too long before darting away. At first, you ignored it, chalking it up to exhaustion. But when you caught him staring for the fifth time, you couldn’t help but smirk. “Something on your mind?” you asked, leaning back in your chair.
He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Just thinking.”
“About?” you questioned, leaning back against your chair.
“About how strange it is, being here,” he admitted, his voice softer than usual. “This room, this world…it feels like it shouldn’t exist. Like it’s too perfect to be real.”
“It’s not perfect,” you said quietly, your gaze dropping to the papers on your desk. “It’s a gilded cage. Nothing more.”
His eyes softened, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken words. Then, slowly, he stood and crossed the room to where you sat.
“I hate to say this. But atleast i’m here…” he said hesitantly, his voice low and steady.
Something in his tone made your breath hitch. You looked up at him, and the intensity in his gaze sent a shiver down your spine. Before you could think, before you could stop yourself, you leaned in.
Ekko met you halfway, his lips crashing against yours with a hunger that left you breathless. His hand found the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. It was nothing like you'd imagined. It was raw, desperate, and full of the emotions you'd both kept bottled up for too long.
He pulled you to your feet, guiding you back toward the bed without breaking the kiss. The world blurred around you, your senses overwhelmed by the warmth of his touch, the taste of his lips, the way he made you feel alive in a way you never had before.
You fell onto the bed, the soft blankets and pillows cushioning your back as he leaned over you, his weight a comforting pressure. His hands framed your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks as he kissed you again and again, each one more passionate than the last.
It wasn't until his arms braced on either side of your head that he pulled back, his chest heaving as he stared down at you. The moonlight cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the softness in his eyes.
"Do you want me to keep going?" he asked, his voice hoarse. You reached up, your fingers brushing against his cheek. "You might as well…" And as he leaned down to kiss you again, you knew there was no going back from this.
Golden hues of the afternoon sun spilled into your room through the tall, arched windows, painting the polished wooden floors in a mosaic of light and shadow. Outside, the tranquil sounds of Piltover carried through the crisp air. The distant hum of mechanized carriages, the faint chatter of passersby, and the melodic chirping of birds perched along the grand gardens that surrounded your home. Everything was perfect, picturesque even, but it all felt hollow.
Your bedroom was a masterpiece of luxury, a reflection of House Arvino’s status. Elegant bookshelves lined the walls, filled with leather-bound tomes you once eagerly devoured. A velvet armchair sat by the fireplace, its cushion still as pristine as the day it arrived, and your grand four-poster bed was draped in silk, untouched except for the rumpled corner where you sat. Yet, despite the warmth and beauty of the space, it felt cold.
You hadn’t touched your breakfast that morning, nor the one the day before. The silver tray your maid brought hours ago sat untouched on your writing desk, the tea long gone cold. Your appetite had vanished with him.
“Miss,” came a tentative voice from the doorway. You turned to see Anya, your maid, standing there with a concerned expression. She stepped into the room, her brow furrowed as her gaze swept over you. “You haven’t eaten again. This isn’t healthy.”
You waved her off without meeting her eyes. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” she pressed gently, her voice tinged with worry. “You’ve barely touched your meals for over a week. If this continues, I’ll have to tell your parents.”
Her words sent a jolt through you. The last thing you wanted was for your parents to get involved. They wouldn’t understand. They never did. But you knew Anya was serious. Her loyalty to you didn’t outweigh her duty to ensure your well-being.
“Alright,” you relented, forcing a weak smile. “I’ll eat later.”
Anya didn’t look convinced, but she nodded and left the room. The heavy door clicked shut behind her, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more. You leaned back against the plush pillows of your bed, staring up at the intricate carvings on the ceiling. Days had turned into weeks since Ekko had kissed you in this very room. Weeks since you’d seen him, since you’d spoken to him. At first, you’d waited eagerly, expecting him to climb through your window with that same confident smirk he always wore. But as the days passed, hope turned to disappointment.
However, the first week had been agony. Every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of the trees outside, had sent your heart racing, only for it to sink when you realized it wasn’t him. You told yourself he was busy, that Zaun demanded too much of him to spare a moment for you. But as the second week came and went, you began to question everything.
Was the kiss a mistake? Did he regret it? The thought gnawed at you, leaving you restless and irritable. Eventually, you stopped waiting. You stopped glancing at the window, stopped listening for the familiar sound of his footsteps. If he didn’t want to see you, then fine. You wouldn’t waste your time waiting for someone who clearly didn’t care.
But despite your best efforts to move on, the ache in your chest remained. It showed in the way you pushed away your meals, the way you avoided the social gatherings your parents encouraged you to attend. Your mother had noticed, of course, her sharp eyes taking in your pale complexion and listless demeanor. “Are you unwell, darling?” she’d asked one evening, her tone as polished as ever.
You’d smiled and lied, assuring her it was nothing more than fatigue. She’d accepted your answer, but her gaze lingered, skeptical.
Now, as you sat in your room, the weight of it all pressing down on you, you realized you couldn’t keep living like this. You couldn’t keep letting his absence control your life. If he didn’t care, then neither should you. But no matter how much you tried to convince yourself, the truth was undeniable. You missed him.
The days stretched on, blending into a monotony of forced smiles and empty conversations. You threw yourself into the routines of Piltover’s elite. Attending social calls, charitable luncheons, and the parties where everyone whispered behind jeweled fans about alliances and intrigue. On the surface, you seemed like yourself again. You laughed when expected, nodded politely during dull conversations, and played the part of the perfect child of House Arvino.
But beneath the carefully constructed façade, a storm brewed. No matter how hard you tried to bury it, the memory of Ekko lingered, sharper and more vivid with each passing day. His voice, his touch, the way he had kissed you. It all haunted you. It didn’t make sense, you told yourself. He was just a friend, nothing more. Yet the thought of him ignoring you, of deliberately staying away, clawed at your chest.
One night, long after the rest of your house had gone to bed, you sat by your window, staring out at the glowing lights of Piltover. The thought hit you with the force of a hammer. You know deep down that you couldn’t keep waiting. If he wouldn’t come to you, then you would go to him.
The decision wasn’t easy. It took days to build up the courage, to push aside the fear of what you might find. But when you finally made your way to Zaun, the heavy air and dim light of the undercity greeted you like an old adversary. You navigated the twisting streets, every step bringing back memories of the times you’d spent here. How he had carefully and slowly opened this world to you, how you’d fought for it together. Well atleast try to.
When you finally reached the Firelights’ hideout, you felt your stomach tighten. It looked the same as ever, but something about it felt different. You spotted him almost immediately, standing near a table strewn with maps and tools, his back to you. “Ekko,” you called out, your voice steady despite the tremor in your chest.
He turned slowly, his face unreadable. For a moment, you thought you saw something flicker in his eyes. Was it surprise, maybe even relief. Either way it didn’t matter because it was gone in an instant, replaced by an icy look. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his tone cold.
The words hit you harder than you expected. “I… I came to see you. It’s been weeks, and—”
“And what?” He cut you off, turning away to fiddle with something on the table. “You’ve got a life up there. What do you need me for?”
Your chest tightened, anger bubbling to the surface. “Don’t do that. Don’t act like I just forgot about you. You’re the one who stopped coming around.”
He scoffed, finally turning to face you. “Stopped coming around? You think I’ve got time to play house? I’ve got real things to deal with here, things that actually matter.”
The words stung, but you refused to back down. “And I don’t? Do you think it’s easy for me to come here, to fight for a place I don’t even belong to? I thought we were doing this together, Ekko.”
He stepped closer, his voice rising. “You don’t get it, do you? You don’t belong here. This about you. You can go back to your fancy dinners and your perfect life anytime you want, but this is my reality.”
You clenched your fists, your own voice shaking with anger. “Don’t you dare act like I haven’t sacrificed anything! Do you know what it’s like to lie to everyone you care about, to pretend you’re someone you’re not, just so you can try to make a difference?”
“Sacrifice?” he shot back, his voice dripping with disbelief. “You don’t know the first thing about sacrifice.” The air between you crackled with tension, the weight of everything left unsaid pressing down on you both. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the anger simmering in the silence.
Finally, you took a shaky breath, your voice softer but no less firm. “You don’t get to decide what I care about, Ekko. I came here because I thought you were my friend.”
He looked away, his jaw tight. “I didn’t ask for you to come.” The words were like a slap to the face, but you refused to let him see how much they hurt. “Fine,” you said, your voice cold. “If that’s how you feel, then I won’t bother you again.”
You turned on your heel, walking away before he could see the tears starting to swell in your eyes. But just as you reached the door, his voice stopped you. “Wait.”
You hesitated, your hand on the worn wood, but you didn’t turn around.
“I…” His voice faltered, the anger replaced by something softer. He inched his head as he paced around, “I didn’t mean it like that.”
You looked back at him, his expression finally cracking. There was pain in his eyes, the same pain you’d been carrying for weeks.
“Then what did you mean?” you asked quietly, your voice trembling.
He didn’t answer right away, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just… I didn’t know what to say. After what happened, I thought it’d be easier if I stayed away. But it wasn’t.”
Your shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of you. Looking at with with complete disbelief. “Seriously! You could’ve just told me.”
He nodded, his expression filled with regret. “Yeah. I should’ve.”
For a moment, the two of you just stood there, the weight of the argument lingering in the air. But as you looked at him, at the boy who had opened your eyes to so much, you felt the anger fade, replaced by something else. This was something you weren’t ready to admit to anyone.
A few months have passed and things were relatively calm, much hasn’t happened since then. The suffocating air of Piltover’s council chamber lingered in your mind as you strode through the bustling streets of Zaun. The conversations in those hallowed halls always left a bitter taste on your tongue. They spoke of progress and prosperity, but beneath the gilded rhetoric, it was all about control. To control of resources, people, and power. It was a game you were born into but had grown to despise.
You moved swiftly, your hood pulled low to shield your face from prying eyes. The undercity was alive with its usual chaos, but you’d long learned to navigate its labyrinthine streets without drawing attention. This was your escape, your solace. The world of House Arvino, your family’s wealth, influence, and ties to the Council. It all felt more like chains with each passing day.
The hideout was tucked deep within the shadows of Zaun, a sanctuary for the oppressed and rebellious. It had become a second home to you, a place where you could finally breathe. Ekko had been wary of you at first, rightfully so. Your name carried weight in Piltover, and trust wasn’t something he gave freely. But over time, you’d proven yourself.
Today, the air in the hideout was thick with tension. Ekko was at the center of it all, his voice calm but commanding as he gave orders to his crew. He noticed you immediately, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as you approached.
“Back again?” he asked, leaning against a makeshift table. His tone was teasing, but there was an edge to it, a quiet concern he rarely voiced outright.
“I can’t seem to stay away,” you replied, offering a small smile.
His lips twitched, almost forming a grin, but he shook his head instead. “You’re playing a dangerous game, y’know?”
You shrugged. “I know.”
He studied you for a moment, his gaze lingering as if he was trying to decipher something. Then, with a sigh, he gestured for you to follow him to a quieter corner.
“What’s really going on?” he asked once you were alone. “You’ve been coming here more often, and I know it’s not just to check on the Firelights.”
You hesitated, your fingers gripping the edge of your cloak. “I… I don’t know if I can keep doing this. Pretending like everything’s fine topside when I know how much blood is on their hands. My family’s hands.”
He frowned, his usual confidence giving way to something softer. “You’re not responsible for what they do.”
“Aren’t I?” you countered, your voice rising. “I’m part of them, Ekko. Every time I go back to that house, every time I sit in those meetings, I’m complicit. I’m part of the system that’s crushing this place.”
The intensity of your words caught him off guard, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding. “Then why do you keep going back?”
“Because…” You trailed off, your throat tightening. “Because I thought I could help. That I could use my position to make a difference. But now, I’m not so sure. The Council sees Zaun as nothing more than a problem to be solved, more importantly, destroyed.”
Ekko’s jaw tightened, his anger barely contained. “They’ll never stop. Not unless we make them.”
You couldn’t stop thinking of the face ekko made when you told him what you were internally thinking. How the council thinks so poorly about zaun, how it can be something that wouldn’t be missed if it was gone. It was horrible that most of the topsiders thought the same way, had the same mindset.
You walked briskly, the streets unfamiliar under the heavy shadows of the evening. You had chosen this route for its discretion, a calculated decision that now felt dangerous in its isolation.
Your heart pounded in your chest, though you didn't want to admit why. It wasn't fear of being recognized or stopped by one of Zaun's residents. No, this was something more insidious. A seed of doubt planted by weeks of balancing on a blade's edge between two lives. House Arvino's influence was undeniable, and it had kept you shielded from true danger for so long. But here in Zaun, your family name meant less than nothing. To most, you were just another noble, another cog in the machine grinding them into dust.
Ambessa had recently cornered you in Piltover's glittering council halls, her words honeyed but laced with venom. She had offered you promises of power, privilege, and security for your family. In order to gain immunity from suspicion, all in exchange for complete submission. You'd nodded and played your role, but the encounter left you hollow. The high society life you'd once cherished now felt like a gilded cage, and her offer only tightened the bars.
Yet, her influence was terrifying. Under Ambessa's direction, the Council had started scrutinizing House Arvino with an alarming intensity. The Firelights, they claimed, had spies in Piltover. And somehow, House Arvino's connections to Zaun became their scapegoat. You were well aware of what that scrutiny meant-your family was being squeezed, maneuvered into a position where betrayal seemed the only way to survive. A betrayal by who? you thought.
As you turned a corner into an empty alley, those doubts turned into a growing unease. The silence around you felt oppressive, unnatural. You hesitated, glancing over your shoulder. That was when the first strike landed, the butt of the gun hitting your head. You staggered, gasping in pain, only to be shoved against the damp wall. A rough hand grabbed your cloak and yanked it back, revealing your face to the enforcers.
"Well, well," one sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "A little lost noble playing savior in Zaun yet again."
"Let go!" you hissed, trying to pull free. But there were too many of them, and their grips were forceful and rough.
"We know all about your little meetings with the boy," another enforcer said, driving his fist into your stomach. "Did you really think you could run around down here without consequences? Or did your family forget to teach you how the real world works?" The pain blurred your vision as you crumpled to the ground. You clawed at the dirt, trying to crawl away, but another blow landed, then another.
Laughter echoed around you as they kicked and struck without mercy. The worst part wasn't the physical pain. It was the guilt, the sickening realization that you'd been naive enough to believe there could be change. Especially from within the Council's walls. You'd hoped that by walking the line between your family and the Firelights, you could create something better. But this? This was your reward for dreaming too much.
Tears blurred your vision as you curled into yourself, trying to shield your head. "Stupid," you whispered through clenched teeth. "Stupid, stupid, stupid." You slammed your fist against your temple, desperate to drown out the pain, the voices, the failure.
The enforcers stepped back momentarily, likely to assess whether you were still conscious. But before they could strike again, a loud crackling sound filled the air. "Back off," came a familiar voice, sharp and commanding.
You barely managed to open your eyes, but the sight was unmistakable. Ekko and his hoverboard gleaming as he charged forward. Behind him, several Firelights emerged from the shadows, their makeshift weapons glowing in the dim light.
"What the-" one enforcer started, but Ekko was already upon him, a precise swing of his bat sending the man sprawling. The Firelights fought with a ferocity that sent the enforcers scattering, though Ekko's eyes never left you. He reached your side in moments, dropping to his knees. "Hey," he said, his voice softer now. "Don’t go close your eyes, stay with me now."
You tried to speak, but all that came out was a choked sob. Blood trickled from a huge gash above your brow, staining your face. Ekko pressed a hand to your shoulder to steady you, but you flinched. Your fist weakly hitting your own head again. "Stop it," he said firmly, grabbing your wrist before you could hurt yourself further. "Hey! Don't do that."
"I'm an idiot," you mumbled, your voice barely audible. "| thought... I thought they could change. That Piltover could change. But I was wrong. They'll never stop."
His expression softened, though his jaw was still tight with anger. "You're not an idiot. You're just optimistic... too hopeful for your own good."
The Firelights surrounded you, their movements tense as they prepared for more enforcers to arrive. Ekko lifted you carefully, his arm supporting your weight. "We need to move," one of his crew said.
"Yeah i know," Ekko replied, his eyes still on you. "Let's get out of here."
As he carried you to safety, the weight of your choices pressed down on you like never before. Your family would demand answers. The Council would escalate their efforts. And Ambessa? Oh, she’s gonna have a fieldday with this. She would stop at nothing to make you pay for what she'd see, see it as a betrayal to your own people. But as Ekko held you steady, his presence a grounding force amidst the chaos, you realized something else. You were no longer just caught between two worlds, you were tearing one down to build the other.
Ekko’s chambers weren’t lavish, but they were purposeful, an organized chaos that spoke of a leader always in motion. The space was tucked inside one of the largest branches of the Firelight’s sprawling treehouse hideout. The soft glow of lanterns filled the room, their light reflecting off walls adorned with maps, sketches, and scattered tools. From the small window, you could see the hideout below, a buzzing network of walkways, platforms, and people moving with quiet purpose.
The bed you lay on was makeshift but sturdy, piled with blankets and pillows that smelled faintly of Zaun’s metal-tinged air. Your body ached everywhere. Sharp, stinging pains in some places, a deep, relentless soreness in others. Slowly, you tried to sit up, wincing as the movement sent sharp jolts of pain through your ribs.
Across the room, Ekko stood at a workbench, tinkering with something that sparked faintly under his fingers. His braids were tied back, and his jacket was slung over the back of a chair, leaving him in a simple shirt that clung to his frame. When he glanced over and saw you struggling to rise, his eyes widened, and he immediately abandoned his project.
“Hey, whoa—what do you think you’re doing?” he asked, crossing the room in a heartbeat.
“I’m fine,” you mumbled, your voice hoarse as you tried to wave him off.
“You’re not fine,” he countered, his hands carefully but firmly guiding you back down onto the bed. “You’ve been out for two days, and you can barely sit up without wincing.”
“I can handle it,” you said, though your body betrayed you with another sharp wince as you tried to adjust yourself on the pillows.
“Yeah, I can see that,” Ekko replied dryly, but his voice softened as he knelt beside the bed. “Seriously. You need to rest. Let me help.”
There was a quiet moment as he adjusted the pillows behind you, moving with surprising gentleness. His hands lingered briefly, his eyes scanning your face as if double checking for signs of discomfort.
“Thanks,” you murmured, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.
He shook his head, leaning back on his heels. “You don’t have to thank me. I just… You scared the hell out of me, y’know?”
You glanced away, guilt stirring in your chest. “I didn’t mean to. I just… I didn’t think it would get THAT bad.”
Ekko sat back on the floor, his arms resting on his knees as he studied you. “Why did you do it?” he asked, his voice quieter now. “When I found you, you were hitting yourself and saying all these… awful things. About yourself.”
Your breath hitched at the memory, shame washing over you. “It’s just… something I do when I’m frustrated,” you admitted, not meeting his gaze. “I was angry, at everyone and everything. Y’know, I thought I could make a difference, but I was wrong. I let everyone down.”
“Oh come on don’t say that,” Ekko said firmly, cutting you off. “You didn’t let anyone down. You’re one of the only people from Piltover who actually cares about Zaun. And yeah, maybe you were too optimistic, but that’s not a bad thing. You don’t deserve what they did to you.” His words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, he added, “It’s not safe for you to go back to Piltover.”
You frowned, meeting his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve been hearing things,” Ekko said, his expression darkening. “Rumors. Ambessa’s pissed. She thinks you’ve betrayed the Council, and she’s not the kind of person to let something like that slide. Word is, she wants your head.” The weight of his words settled heavily on your chest, and you slumped back against the pillows. “So that’s it, then?” you said bitterly. “I can’t go home. I can’t go back to Piltover. What am I supposed to do now?”
Ekko leaned closer, his gaze unwavering. “You stay here,” he said simply. “With me. You’ve got people who will vouch for you for the most part. I’ll fight for you.” Something in his tone made your chest tighten, and for the first time in days, a small, hesitant smile tugged at your lips. “Thanks, Ekko. For literally everything.”
He reached out and gently squeezed your hand. “Anytime .”
, marked with red ink, highlighted the areas where House Arvino’s trade routes intersected with Zaun’s underbelly.
A grizzled Baron leaned forward, his metallic fingers tapping against the table. “House Arvino’s little noble has gone rogue,” he rasped, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “The Council’s after them, sure, but that just makes this all the more interesting for us.”
Another Baron, her voice honeyed but sharp, chimed in. “If we get our hands on them, imagine the leverage we’d have. Not just over Arvino, but the Council and even the Firelights. They’re a walking, breathing key to the chaos we’ve been craving.”
“They’re already in Zaun,” another added, her tone laced with confidence. “All we need is patience. When the time is right, we’ll make our move.” The Barons exchanged nods, their plan unspoken but clear. For now, they would wait, watching, their web of spies and informants slowly tightening around you.
From across the platform, Ekko leaned casually against a railing, watching the interaction unfold. His arms were crossed, but there was a noticeable softness in his gaze, a flicker of something close to admiration.
In the days that followed, the children of the hideout began to gravitate toward you. They tugged at your hands, peppering you with questions about Piltover and laughing at your awkward attempts to keep up with their boundless energy. You found yourself helping where you could, organizing supplies, assisting with small repairs, and even attempting to teach some of the younger ones how to read.
Though the older Firelights were slower to trust, you noticed their glances were no longer as sharp, their whispers not as harsh. You were earning your place here, bit by bit, though it was a far cry from the life you had once known. Piltover, with its grand halls and polished façades, felt like a distant memory now, one you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to cling to.
Ekko, ever watchful, seemed to take quiet satisfaction in your efforts. He didn’t say much, but his presence was definitely there. Whether he was checking on you or working alongside the others. There was a rhythm to life in the hideout, and you were beginning to find your place within it.
Unbeknownst to you, danger loomed closer than you realized. The Chem Barons’ spies were everywhere, watching, reporting back with meticulous detail. Every interaction you had, every movement you made, was noted. To them, you were a pawn in a much larger game, one that could tip the balance of power in Zaun.
“They’re softening,” one spy reported back, his voice low as he spoke into a communicator hidden beneath his cloak. “The Firelights trust them more every day. If we move now, it’ll be too obvious.”
“Let them feel safe,” came the reply, cold and calculating. “When the time is right, we’ll take them. And when we do, House Arvino will learn what happens when they meddle in Zaun’s affairs.”
It was another ordinary morning in the hideout when you decided to venture outside Ekko’s chambers. The soreness in your body was a dull ache now, manageable but constant. As you stepped onto the main platform, the sunlight filtering through the leaves felt warm on your skin, a stark contrast to the chill of Piltover’s marble halls.
You hadn’t noticed Ekko watching you until you caught his reflection in the metal plating of a nearby railing. He was perched on a ledge, his goggles pushed up onto his forehead, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“You’re staring again,” you said, your tone teasing as you turned to face him fully.
Ekko smirked, hopping down from the ledge with practiced ease. “Just making sure you’re not overdoing it,” he shot back. “You’ve got a habit of biting off more than you can chew.”
You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms despite the ache in your shoulders. “I’m fine, Ekko. I’ve been fine. You don’t have to keep hovering.”
His expression softened, but he didn’t back down. “Someone has to. If it weren’t for me, you’d probably still be lying in the street.” The reminder stung, not because it wasn’t true, but because it forced you to confront just how fragile your position had become. You looked away, scanning the hideout below where Firelights bustled about their tasks. The children’s laughter floated up, a soothing balm to the tension that threatened to settle between you and Ekko.
“I’ve been trying to help,” you murmured. “I don’t want to be a burden. It’s just that…” You trailed off, unsure of how to put the conflict in your heart into words.
Ekko stepped closer, his voice low and steady. “You’re not a burden,” he said firmly. “But you’re not invincible either. And if you keep throwing yourself into danger like this, someone’s going to take advantage of it.” His words hit harder than you cared to admit, but before you could respond, a group of children came running up, dragging you into their latest adventure A game that involved climbing ropes strung between the platforms. You gave Ekko a grateful smile, silently promising him you’d be careful, even if you weren’t entirely sure how.
That night, as the Firelights settled into the quiet hum of evening, Ekko pulled you aside. His chambers felt more like a refuge now than a room, its warmth amplified by the soft glow of firelight reflecting off polished metal and glass.
“You’ve been doing good here,” he began, leaning against his workbench. “The kids adore you, and even the older crew is starting to come around. But it’s not just about fitting in, you know?”
You tilted your head, unsure where he was going with this. “What do you mean?”
He hesitated, his fingers drumming against the table. “The Chem Barons,” he said finally, his tone heavy. “They’ve got their eyes on you now. Your family’s deals with them? Those don’t go unnoticed. And with the Council already hunting you, you’re stuck between two very dangerous sides.”
The weight of his words settled over you like a shroud. “So what do I do?” you asked, your voice quieter than you intended.
Ekko stepped closer, his gaze meeting yours. “Like i said earlier, you stay here. The Firelights are your best chance now. We’ll protect you, but you’ve got to let us.”
You swallowed hard, nodding despite the fear gnawing at your resolve. “And my family?”
“Well they already made their choice,” he said, his tone softening. “Now you’ve got to make yours.”
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The firelight flickered, casting long shadows on the walls. Ekko’s steady presence was a comfort, a reminder that you weren’t as alone as you felt.
You have spent the last few weeks peacefully managing your new life in zaun. As for today, it was surely a day to remember. It had been long but rewarding. You’d spent most of it helping around the hideout, patching up clothes, organizing supplies, and entertaining the children with small stories and makeshift games. Their laughter had been infectious, warming a part of you that you didn’t even realize had grown cold. But now, as the sun set and the last streaks of orange faded from the sky, exhaustion crept over you like a heavy blanket.
Returning to Ekko’s chambers felt like stepping into a sanctuary. The room was quiet, the gentle hum of activity outside muffled by the thick wood and steel walls. The soft glow of a makeshift lamp illuminated the space, casting warm shadows across the worn furniture. The room smelled faintly of oil and smoke, mixed with something earthy. You didn’t even bother taking off your boots, flopping onto the bed with a sigh and burying your face in the worn but surprisingly soft blankets.
Minutes passed, or maybe it was hours. You weren’t sure. You only stirred when you heard the sound of the door opening and closing quietly. Lifting your head, you spotted Ekko standing near the entrance, his figure backlit by the dim lights outside. His jacket was off, his sleeveless shirt revealing the lean muscle of his arms. His hair was tied back tonight, though a few strands had fallen loose, framing his face in a way that made your chest tighten.
“You look dead,” he teased, though there was no humor in his voice. His eyes swept over you, his usual sharpness softened by concern.
“I feel dead,” you replied, your voice muffled by the pillow.
Ekko crossed the room in a few long strides, pulling a chair closer to sit by the bedside. “Long day?”
You nodded, not bothering to sit up. “Rewarding, though. The kids are exhausting, but in a good way. I think I’m finally starting to feel like I’m… I don’t know, contributing?”
He leaned back slightly, his arms crossing over his chest as he watched you. “You’ve done more than enough already. They’re warming up to you faster than I thought they would. Guess you’ve got a knack for making people feel safe.”
His words brought a faint smile to your lips, but your body felt too heavy to do much more than that. “Maybe. Or maybe they just like the shiny Piltover noble playing dress-up as a Firelight.”
“You’re more than that,” he said softly, almost too softly for you to hear. The weight of his gaze drew your attention. Turning your head, you found his eyes fixed on you, dark and intense in a way that made your stomach twist. There was something unspoken in his expression, something raw and magnetic.
“Ekko,” you said, his name slipping from your lips like a warning. He didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he brought himself closer to your level. The air between you grew thick, charged with an unspoken tension that neither of you seemed willing to break.
Your breath hitched as his hand moved, not to touch you, but to hover near your face, as if he wasn’t sure he had the right. “You should rest,” he said finally, though his voice was strained, as though it was the last thing he wanted to say.
“I’m fine,” you murmured, though your voice betrayed you. There was a nervous tremor there, one that you couldn’t quite suppress.
“You’re not,” he replied, his tone sharper this time, though the edge was softened by the way his hand dropped to his lap, curling into a fist. “And you shouldn’t have to keep pretending you are.”
You swallowed hard, your heart racing in your chest. He was too close, his presence overwhelming in a way that left you both yearning and terrified. For a moment, you thought he might lean in, that he might close the unbearable distance between you. And part of you wanted him to. But you couldn’t.
As if sensing your hesitation, Ekko pulled back, though his expression betrayed the conflict raging inside him. He rose from the chair abruptly, turning his back to you as he ran a hand over his face. “I need to check on something,” he said, his voice tight.
You sat up slightly, confusion and guilt warring within you. “Ekko, wait—”
“There’s food on the table,” he interrupted, not turning to face you. “You should eat. And…” He hesitated, his hand resting on the doorknob. “I left something for you. Thought you might like it.”
Before you could respond, he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him. You stared at the space he’d just vacated, the room suddenly feeling much larger and lonelier than it had before.
Rising from the bed, you made your way to the small table in the corner. A covered plate of food sat there, still warm, alongside a neatly wrapped package. Your fingers trembled as you opened it, revealing a small, intricately carved pendant in the shape of a firefly. The sight of it brought a lump to your throat. You clutched the pendant tightly, sinking back into the chair as a wave of emotions threatened to overwhelm you. Ekko had left, but his presence lingered in every corner of the room, in the care he’d shown you, in the gift he’d left behind.
You closed your eyes, the weight of the hectic day and the unresolved tension between you pressing down like a heavy blanket. But even as exhaustion pulled you under, you couldn’t shake the memory of his eyes. The way they had looked at you, filled with longing and restraint.
Hours ticked by like an endless parade of thoughts that refused to settle. You sat in Ekko’s chair, knees drawn up slightly as your elbows resting on them. cradling your head in your hands. A sigh escaped your lips, heavy and full of frustration, as your thoughts spiraled into overthinking once again. Why hadn’t he kissed you earlier?
At first, you tried to dismiss it as if it was nothing, just a fleeting moment, something that could be easily explained away by the heat of the moment. But deep down, you knew better. The way he had looked at you wasn’t casual or friendly. It was something more, something intense and unspoken.
Still, you couldn’t help but doubt. Maybe he had been teasing, the way friends sometimes did to lighten the mood. Maybe he didn’t feel the same, and you’d simply read too much into it. But then your mind wandered back to that day in your bedroom. The memory of his closeness as the tension that sparked between you like lightning in a thunderstorm.
Friends don’t act like that.
But then again, why had he ignored you for weeks after that moment? Why hadn’t he said anything or even done anything, to give you some clarity? The questions swirled in your head, each one feeding into the next, until your chest felt tight and your breathing shallow.
You let out another sigh, leaning forward until your forehead almost touched your knees. “What are you doing to me, Ekko?” you murmured to yourself, the words barely audible in the quiet room.
You glanced at the door for the hundredth time, wondering where he’d gone. What was keeping him out so late or rather so early, given the faint light of sun beginning to creep into the room. Would he even come back tonight? Or was this going to be like before, where he disappeared for days, leaving you to piece together the fragments of what you thought you understood about him?
The thought of being ignored again made your chest ache in a way you weren’t prepared to admit. You leaned back in the chair, closing your eyes against the onslaught of emotions. Sleep pulled at you, but you resisted, stubbornly staying awake as if you could somehow summon him back to you. Eventually, though, your exhaustion won. Your head lolled against the back of the chair, your breathing evening out as sleep claimed you.
Ekko slipped into the room quietly, his footsteps barely making a sound against the wooden floor. The sight of you hit him like a punch to the chest. There you were, curled up in his chair, fast asleep. Your face was soft in slumber, but there was a faint crease between your brows. Almost as if even your dreams couldn’t fully erase the tension you’d been feeling. His gaze softened as he took you in, a pang of guilt threading through his chest.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Jeez…” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. Carefully, he crossed the room and crouched beside you. You stirred slightly at his presence, murmuring something incoherent. Without thinking, he slid one arm under your knees and the other around your back, lifting you effortlessly into his strong arms.
You mumbled something again, your head lolling against his shoulder. Which caused him to freeze for a moment, waiting to see if you’d wake up. But you didn’t. He carried you to the bed and laid you down gently, pulling the blanket over you.
As he turned to step away, he felt your hand grab weakly at his shirt. “Don’t go,” you murmured, your voice thick with sleep. He froze in place, his heart pounding in his chest. He looked down at you, your eyes half-open and drowsy but locked onto his.
“You shouldn’t sleep in a chair,” you continued, your words slightly slurred. “And you… shouldn’t leave me like that.”
His breath caught. “I wasn’t going to leave,” he said softly.
You tugged at his shirt again, pulling him closer. He sank down onto the edge of the bed, his face hovering close to yours. “Why didn’t you kiss me earlier?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
The question hung in the air, heavy and electrified. Ekko’s eyes widened, his cheeks flushing a deep red. “What?”
“When you had the chance,” you mumbled, your voice fading as sleep pulled at you again. “You looked like you wanted to, but you didn’t. Why?”
He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. The proximity, the softness of your voice and the vulnerability in your question. It was almost too much to handle. He didn’t know how to answer. Hell, he didn’t even know if he could answer it.
“You were exhausted,” he said finally, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t think it was the right time.”
You hummed softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “You’re so stubborn,” you whispered, your eyes drifting shut.
He exhaled shakily, his heart continued its rapid pace as he watched you fall back into sleep. For a moment, he just sat there, his gaze tracing the outline of your beautiful face. He wanted to kiss you. God, he wanted to kiss you so badly it hurt. But he wouldn’t. Not yet. Not like this.
Instead, he stood and grabbed the chair, dragging it closer to the bed. He sat down and rested his head in his hands, trying to steady his breathing, to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside him. He stayed there until the drowsiness claimed him too.
You woke to the warmth of sunlight streaming through the cracks in the wooden walls, a golden glow bathing the room. It was already late, half the day gone, by the looks of it. You woke up to the warmth of the sun shining through the cracks on the wooden walls. It bathed the room. You stretched lazily under the blanket, the aches in your body from the past few days reduced to a dull throb. Turning your head, you saw Ekko. Who was still slumped in the chair beside the bed, asleep.
Your brow furrowed as you watched him. His head rested awkwardly on one hand, his legs stretched out, his shoulders slightly hunched. How could he sleep like that? He must’ve spent the entire night sitting there just to keep an eye on you.
How can he sacrifice his comfort like this?
You studied him, taking in the faint lines of exhaustion etched into his features. He looked so tired, so worn down. Ekko carried so much on his shoulders. The Firelights, the fight for Zaun’s freedom, the safety of the kids who looked up to him. And not to mention you as well. It wasn’t fair, you thought. He gave so much of himself and rarely took a moment for his own peace.
You slid out of bed quietly, wincing at the soreness in your muscles, and approached him. Gently, you placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him awake. “Ekko,” you said softly.
He stirred slightly, his eyelids fluttering open, and then he bolted upright, instinctively swatting your hand away. His palm struck yours with more force than he intended, making you hiss at the sting.
“Shit,” he muttered, sitting up fully now, his face a mixture of alarm and regret. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay,” you interrupted, shaking your hand out with a small wince. “It happens.”
He ran a hand over his face, sighing heavily. “I shouldn’t have—”
“You shouldn’t have spent the whole night sleeping in a chair,” you cut in, your tone playful but firm. “Are you crazy? You’ll wreck your back.”
He shrugged, his lips twitching into a faint, sheepish smile. “It’s not the first time.”
“That doesn’t make it better,” you said, crossing your arms.
He gave you a tired chuckle, leaning back in the chair. “I’ll survive. I’ve been through worse.”
But that wasn’t enough for you. Watching him now, the weariness in his eyes even as he tried to act like everything was fine. An idea sparked in your mind, one that you knew he’d hate at first. But it was for his own good.
You grinned, your excitement bubbling over as you clapped your hands together. “I have a surprise for you!”
Ekko raised an eyebrow, intrigued but skeptical. “A surprise?”
“Yep!” you said, bouncing on your heels, your eyes alight with mischief. “But I’m not telling you what it is. You’ll just have to trust me.”
His skepticism deepened. “That sounds like a bad idea.”
“Oh, come on,” you teased, leaning down slightly to meet his gaze. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”
He gave you a flat look. “I think I left it behind when I became the leader of the Firelights.”
You pouted dramatically, placing a hand over your heart. “That’s tragic. Guess I’ll have to help you find it again.”
Ekko shook his head, laughing softly despite himself. “You sure are something alright”
“Yep!” you chirped, grabbing his hand and tugging him to his feet. “Now, come on.”
He resisted, planting his feet firmly. “Wait. I have things to do. The kids—”
“They’ll survive without you for a few hours,” you said, cutting him off with a pointed look. “You need this, Ekko. Trust me.” He opened his mouth to argue, but the determination in your eyes stopped him. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. But you’d better not get me killed.”
You grinned triumphantly, grabbing a scarf from the nearby table. “Oh, and one more thing.”
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What?”
You stepped closer, holding up the scarf. “You’re getting blindfolded.”
“Nope,” he said immediately, crossing his arms.
“Yep,” you countered, your grin widening. “It’s part of the surprise.”
“I’m not letting you blindfold me,” he said firmly.
“Aw, are you scared?” you teased, leaning in closer.
His jaw tightened, and you could tell he was trying not to rise to the bait. “I’m not scared. I just don’t like surprises.”
“Well, too bad,” you said, wrapping the scarf around his eyes before he could stop you. He grumbled under his breath, but you could see the faint hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
“You’re lucky I’m weak for you,” he muttered, his voice low and resigned. Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you quickly brushed it off, tightening the knot of the blindfold. “You won’t regret this. Promise.”
He sighed dramatically. “I already regret it.”
You laughed, grabbing his hand and leading him toward the door. “Come on, leader of the Firelights. Let me lead you away to freedom.”
He followed reluctantly, grumbling the whole way, but you could feel the tension in his hand slowly easing as he let himself trust you. And deep down, you knew that despite his protests, he didn’t truly mind.
Ekko groaned softly as you guided him along yet another bend in the trail. The blindfold tied snugly around his head meant he couldn’t see where he was stepping, which made the journey feel even longer. His feet ached from the uneven terrain, and he couldn’t tell how far you’d dragged him from the hideout. “How much longer?” he asked, a playful but weary edge in his voice. “I’m pretty sure I’ve walked enough to circle Zaun twice by now.”
You laughed softly, your tone teasing. “Not much farther. I promise it’ll be worth it.”
He scoffed but didn’t pull away from your guiding hand. “You said that an hour ago.”
“Well, this time, I mean it!” you chirped, your excitement palpable. “And quit complaining. You’re a leader, remember? A little hike shouldn’t break you.”
Ekko grumbled under his breath but didn’t argue. He trusted you, blindfold and all. Still, his curiosity was killing him. The journey had been filled with faint sounds of nature, quite the opposite to the chaos of Zaun. The air was fresher here, the scent of greenery blending with faintly damp earth. Birds chirped somewhere above, and there was an unfamiliar stillness that made him uneasy in its serenity.
Finally, the sound of running water reached his ears. It was gentle but distinct, the rhythmic splash growing louder as you led him forward.
“Is that a waterfall?” Ekko questioned as he looked around blindfolded, listening with his ears.
“Nope,” you said cheekily, your grin audible in your tone.
“Uh-huh. Sure.”
The moment his boots scuffed against flat, smooth rock, you stopped. You squeezed his hand and stepped in front of him, your fingers brushing against the scarf as you untied the blindfold. “Okay, are you ready?” you asked, your voice playful.
“Depends,” he shot back. “Am I about to fall into a pit of snakes or something?”
You rolled your eyes. “Just hold still.” With a dramatic flourish, you pulled the blindfold away. “Ta-da!”
Ekko blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the light. The sight before him was breathtaking. The waterfall cascaded gently down smooth stone, its waters pooling into a crystal-clear basin surrounded by moss-covered rocks. The greenery around it was lush, vibrant, and untouched, with delicate vines draping over the edges of the falls like curtains. Shafts of sunlight streamed through gaps in the canopy, casting a golden glow over the scene. It felt like another world. Like something out of a dream. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just taking it all in.
“Well?” you asked, bouncing slightly on your heels. “Do you like it?”
“It’s… something,” he admitted, his voice softer than usual. His gaze lingered on the water, the way it shimmered in the sunlight. “I didn’t know there were places like this between Piltover and Zaun.”
You smiled, feeling proud of yourself. “Told you it’d be worth it.”
He turned to look at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll give you that. But…” His expression shifted, concern creeping in. “Should I really be out here? The hideout—”
You cut him off, your tone firm but not unkind. “Ekko.”
He paused, his brow furrowing slightly.
“I’m serious,” you continued, your voice softening. “If you really feel like you need to go back, you can. I won’t stop you.” You hesitated, your hands fidgeting at your sides. “I mean… I’ll understand.”
He studied your face, noticing the way your eyes darted away as if you were trying to hide how much the thought bothered you. You were giving him a choice, but it was clear how much you didn’t want him to leave.
Ekko let out a small sigh, running a hand through his hair. “You’re really bad at hiding what you’re feeling, you know that?”
You glanced up at him, startled. “Who, me?”
“Yes you. But relax,” he said, his tone gentle. “I’ll stay.”
Your eyes lit up, and before he could say anything else, you were practically jumping in place, your joy spilling over. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he said with a small chuckle, watching you with amusement. “Don’t make me regret it.”
You grinned, grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the water. “You won’t. I promise.”
For the next two hours, the two of you wandered the area, exploring the hidden beauty of the place. The tension from earlier melted away, replaced by a comfortable ease as you talked and laughed together.
Ekko, ever curious, peppered you with questions about your life topside. “So, what’s it like being a noble?” he asked, kicking a stray pebble along the path. “I’m guessing it’s all fancy parties and expensive clothes?”
You snorted, shaking your head. “Not quite. Sure, there’s all the glamour, but it’s not as fun as it sounds.”
“Oh?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Do tell.”
You sighed, nudging a rock with the tip of your boot. “My parents had this… idea of what the perfect daughter should be. Polished, obedient, always smiling. I never really fit the mold.”
Ekko tilted his head, studying you. “Doesn’t sound like you.”
“Exactly,” you said with a wry smile. “I was always too stubborn, too opinionated. They wanted me to follow their rules, and I wanted to make my own.”
“Sounds familiar,” he said, a hint of understanding in his voice.
You glanced at him, curiosity sparking. “What about you? Ever feel like people expect too much from you?”
He let out a short laugh, shoving his hands into his pockets. “All the time. Being the leader, people look to me for answers. For direction. It’s… a lot.”
You nodded, your heart aching for him. “And yet you never take a break.”
“Someone has to keep things running,” he said simply.
You stopped walking, turning to face him. “And what happens when you burn out? What then?”
He opened his mouth to respond but closed it again, your words sinking in.
“See that’s what this is about,” you said gently. “You need to take care of yourself, too, Ekko. Not just everyone else.”
He looked away, his jaw tightening, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he gave a small nod, the vulnerability in his expression making your chest tighten.
Soon the peace of the waterfall was shattered by the faint sound of voices approaching. Ekko froze, his head snapping toward the direction of the noise. You followed his gaze, your heart sinking as the muffled conversation grew clearer. It wasn’t just random passersby. The tone was too low and suspicious.
“Get down,” Ekko whispered urgently, grabbing your arm and pulling you toward the water.
“Ow, hey-!” you hissed back, but before you could argue, he tugged you forward.
The two of you splashed quietly into the cool water, wading toward a large rock near the waterfall’s edge. Its size provided enough cover to hide you both, but your movements felt clumsy and loud in the stillness of the moment. Every splash made your heart race, and every breath felt too loud.
You crouched low, gripping the edge of the rock as you peered out cautiously. The voices were clearer now, distinctly rough and laced with malice.
“… shipments are in place. Should be an easy job if everyone keeps quiet,” one of the men said, his voice gruff.
“Easy? You think dealing with Piltover’s dogs is ever easy?” another sneered.
“Relax. It’s all set up. By the time they realize what’s happening, we’ll already be gone,” the first man replied with a dismissive chuckle.
Your ears were ringing, the adrenaline coursing through your veins making it hard to focus. Your breathing quickened, and the world around you felt distant, the voices blending into an indistinct hum. “Hey,” Ekko spoke quietly beside you, nudging your arm. But you didn’t respond, your mind spinning.
“Hey!” he whispered again, more insistent this time. He leaned in closer, his face only inches from yours. Finally, his voice broke through the fog in your mind. You turned your head slightly, meeting his sharp gaze. Before you could say anything, his hand clamped over your mouth, silencing you.
“Don’t-” he mouthed, his tone firm but his touch surprisingly gentle. His eyes were steady, reassuring, even as they flicked toward the Chem-Barons’ direction.
You nodded, your breathing still uneven but quieter now. His hand lingered for a second longer before he slowly pulled it away, his fingers brushing against your skin. The tension between you was palpable. The closeness and adrenaline, it all made the space between you feel charged with something. You were about to whisper something when the sound of boots crunching against the rocky terrain snapped your focus back.
“Keep it moving,” one of the voices barked. “We’re wasting time.”
The group of men moved on, their voices fading into the distance. Only when the silence stretched did Ekko exhale, his shoulders finally relaxing. He peeked cautiously around the rock, ensuring they were truly gone before turning back to you.
“We’re clear,” he whispered, though his voice carried an edge of lingering tension.
You nodded, still crouched behind the rock, your limbs stiff from staying still for so long. Ekko moved toward the water’s edge and helped you climb back onto the bank. You followed his lead, water dripping from your clothes and pooling at your feet as you tried to steady your racing heart.
“Chem-Barons,” he muttered, more to himself than you. He looked toward the direction the men had gone, his expression hardening. “They’re up to something. And if they’re this close, it’s bad news.”
You wrung out your sleeves, watching him warily. “Do you think they saw us?”
“No,” he said firmly, but there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes. “Still… we need to get back.”The urgency in his voice left no room for argument, and you agreed without hesitation.
The journey back to the hideout was tense. Ekko moved swiftly, his steps purposeful and his gaze darting toward every sound in the dense trees. You struggled to keep up, your thoughts spiraling as your footsteps lagged behind his.
What if the Chem-Barons had seen you? What if they followed you back? Your chest tightened as the weight of your continuous overthinking pressed down on you. You replayed the encounter in your mind, picking apart every detail. Had you been too loud? Too slow? What if something went wrong because of you?
“Keep up,” Ekko called over his shoulder, his voice low but urgent.
You blinked, realizing how far behind you’d fallen. Quickening your pace, you forced yourself to focus on his figure ahead of you, his steady movements grounding you in the moment.
When you finally reached the hideout, the familiar sounds of laughter and the hum of activity greeted you. The Firelights’ sanctuary seemed untouched, the chaos of the outside world unable to penetrate its walls. Relief washed over you, but it was short-lived. Ekko headed straight for Scar, who was leaning against a rusty table, tinkering with a small device.
“Everything okay?” Ekko asked, his tone sharp.
Scar glanced up, his brow furrowing slightly. “Yeah. Quiet as usual. Why?”
Ekko hesitated, his jaw tightening as he glanced over his shoulder at you.
“Oh nothing, just checking.” he said finally, though the tension in his posture remained. Scar gave him a curious look but shrugged, returning to his work.
You lingered near the entrance, your damp clothes clinging to your skin as you scanned the area. Everything seemed normal, the kids laughing, people working on repairs, the occasional drone zipping by. But you couldn’t shake the unease that had settled in your chest.
Later that evening, you sat by yourself in one of the quieter corners of the hideout, staring blankly at the firelight lamp in front of you. Your mind was still spinning, your earlier overthinking creeping back in.
“You okay?” Ekko’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you looked up to find him standing nearby, his expression softer now.
“Yeah,” you said quickly, though the tightness in your voice betrayed you.
He frowned, stepping closer and crouching down so he was at eye level with you. “You’ve been quiet since we got back. What’s going on?”
You hesitated, unsure how to put your thoughts into words. “I just… I can’t stop thinking about what happened earlier. What if we were seen? What if they followed us? What if—”
“Hey,” he interrupted, his voice firm but kind. “Nothing happened. Everything is fine. The hideout is fine.” You nodded, but your shoulders remained tense.
Ekko sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. “Worrying until you exhaust yourself i see.”
“I just can’t help it,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
He sat down beside you, close enough that his knee brushed against yours. “Look, I get it. It’s a lot to deal with. But we can’t let them get in our heads. That’s what they want—to make us paranoid, to make us slip up.”
You looked at him, his calm determination grounding you once more. “I just don’t want to fuck things over for the millionth time.”
“You won’t,” he said simply, his confidence in you unwavering. For a moment, the tension between you eased, and you allowed yourself to breathe.
The night stretched on, the two of you sitting in comfortable silence. When Ekko finally stood, he stretched and yawned, his usual energy dimmed by the day’s events.
“Well, I’m gonna check on a few things,” he said, though his tone lacked its usual conviction.
You joking said, raised an eyebrow. “Here you go again, always busy.”
He smirked, his usual charm peeking through. “Says the person who can’t stop worrying.” You rolled your eyes but smiled. As he walked away, you found yourself watching him, your chest tightening with admiration. You couldn’t quite name why. The hideout was quiet now, most of its inhabitants having turned in for the night. You eventually made your way to your small corner of the space, lying down on your bed and staring up at the ceiling.
But sleep didn’t come easily. Your mind kept drifting back to Ekko. The way he had looked at you by the waterfall, the way his hand had lingered on your arm when he pulled you out of the water, the way he had stayed by your side despite everything. Ekko, it’s always him. He always even if you tried to deny it, has an affect on you. You sighed, closing your eyes and willing your racing thoughts to quiet.
A wind of cool night air hit you as you slipped out of the hideout. The faint scent of distant rain mixing with the scent of metal and smoke that always lingered in the air of Zaun. Ekko had been out helping with a situation that had gotten out of hand. It had something to do with one of the Firelights getting into trouble, as usual. He hadn’t been there to protest when you quietly slipped out of the hideout, and part of you was relieved. You needed to clear your head, to have a moment of peace where you didn’t have to think about the danger you constantly felt closing in around you. It slowly suffocating you. Unbearable.
You had heard rumors, of course. Whispers and murmurs of people coming after you because of who you were, because of your connection to the topside. They had no idea who you were, only what they thought you were. You couldn’t allow them to find out. But tonight, you weren’t thinking about that. You were thinking about how to live in the moment, even if it was fleeting.
The Last Drop was not your first choice, but it was the closest. The faint buzz of people laughing, drinking, and shouting hit your ears as you stepped inside. Your heart raced slightly, but you pushed it down. You’d taken precautions, after all. The cloak you wore concealed the colors of your family, the opulence that could mark you a target from a mile away. With your hood low, you blended in with the crowd, keeping your gaze focused on the bar, where the noise was loud enough to drown out any attention.
“Drink?” the barkeep asked, raising an eyebrow at you, the flickering light of the bar casting long shadows across his face.
“Something strong,” you replied, trying to sound casual, though your nerves were anything but.
A quick, hard drink was what you needed. You knew the risks of coming here. This wasn’t the safest place in Zaun, but it was the only place that wouldn’t ask questions about who you were. The clinking of glass and the murmur of conversation surrounded you, a blend of voices that blurred into one singular buzz in your head.
You let your gaze wander as you took your first sip. The bitter warmth of the alcohol spread through your throat, giving you a momentary sense of relief, but it didn’t last. Your eyes flicked to the edges of the bar, noticing the way people moved. There was a tension in the air, something off, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint it. Your fingers tightened around the glass as the sensation of being watched crept down your spine.
Before you could dismiss the feeling, something sharp pricked your neck. You froze, the sensation like a needle pushing into your skin. A wave of dizziness hit you instantly, disorienting and deep. You jerked your hand to your neck, but there was nothing to see. No blood, no sign of injury. Just a strange, heavy heat creeping through your veins, seeping into your bloodstream, clouding your thoughts.
The world around you tilted. It was a slow shift at first, just a sense of things being slightly off, but soon it became overwhelming. The air felt thicker, the sounds louder, as though the entire bar was buzzing, vibrating against the space between you and them. Your chest tightened, and a cold sweat broke out across your skin. ‘No. No, this couldn’t be happening. Not here. Not now.
Shimmer. You realized it too late. The telltale signs were unmistakable. That feeling where your body was being pulled apart, your thoughts slowly being smothered by a fog. You clenched your teeth, trying to fight it, trying to keep yourself from losing control.
“Hey, you okay?” a voice broke through the chaos in your mind. One of the patrons had noticed, a man with wild eyes and a drink in his hand. He was staring at you with concern, but you barely registered his words.
“I’m fine,” you said, though it came out more like a growl. You stood up quickly, the motion far too fast for your brain to follow. The room spun around you, the floor swaying beneath your feet like the deck of a ship caught in a storm. Your hands shot out to steady yourself against the bar, but it felt like everything was slipping away.
The bartender moved closer, his voice urgent. “You need to sit down. You’re not looking good.”
But you couldn’t. You couldn’t let them see you like this. You tried to move toward the door, but your legs wouldn’t obey. Each step was like wading through thick tar, the world warping around you. Your vision blurred, and before you knew it, you were on the floor, struggling to push yourself up, your limbs stiff and heavy.
“Help!” someone shouted, but the word sounded distant, muffled, as if coming from underwater.
You didn’t know what was happening to you anymore. The pain in your head started to intensify. No. Don’t lose control. But it was too late. The shimmer was already twisting your mind, and it wasn’t long before the voices began. They started quiet, like whispers in the back of your head, but soon they became clear.
Someone spoke your name. Your father’s voice.
“You never lived up to my expectations, did you?” The accusation burned in your ears. “Always the disappointment.”
You wanted to scream at the voice to shut up, to make it go away, but all you could do was stand there, shaking, your hands gripping the counter as you tried to steady yourself.
“You think you can escape me? No one escapes me,” your father’s voice mocked. “No one escapes their blood.”
The voices overlapped. Shut up. You couldn’t make out the words. You only felt the anger, regret, and shame. You felt like you were drowning in it. The voices kept yelling, taunting you, until you couldn’t tell what was real anymore. You swung at the air, trying to bat them away, but there was nothing there.
Why don’t you listen? You never do what I ask, do you?
Another voice, it was your mother now, cold and distant. “You’re useless to me. Always have been.”
The pain was unbearable. Your head throbbed as you sank to your knees, clutching at your skull, your fingers digging into your scalp in a futile attempt to stop the onslaught of voices. Get out of my head!
You screamed, but it was a scream that only echoed inside your mind. Your body trembled, and you stumbled backward, falling into the chaos that surrounded you.
“Someone get them out of here!” someone shouted, but it was like the words couldn’t break through the fog that had settled over your mind. You could hear them, feel them moving around you, but they were all far away. Then, another voice. This one was different. It was familiar.
“Hey, listen to me.” Ekko. His voice, clear and strong, cut through the chaos. You tried to focus on it, on him, but it was so hard. Your mind was a warzone. You gasped for air, your hands pressed against your chest, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of the shimmer. You looked around, and for a brief moment, you thought you saw him standing there, reaching out for you, but when you blinked, he was gone.
Your vision darkened, the last remnants of the shimmer clouding everything. You couldn’t stand anymore. You collapsed against the ground, your breath ragged as the world spun out of control.
“Ekko…” you whispered, but you weren’t sure if you said it out loud or if it was just another hallucination. The voices faded as everything went black.
part two soon!
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stompandhollar · 6 months ago
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Honestly the most revolutionary thing about Gravity Falls to me is its commitment to sincerity.
I’ve been listening to Alex’s podcast where he goes into the details of each episode with different storyboard artists and writers who worked on the show, and it just baffles me how… cared for the story is. Right now in media there’s been an uptick in satire, and shows making fun of themselves for existing, or taking the piss at their own content to “win” fans to their side. It’s like whimsy is gone from so many pieces of media. But Gravity Falls just doesn’t… do that. It completely embraces itself. Weirdness and all. And so does the team behind it. I’m not used to something I care about being so cared about by everyone surrounding it.
Here’s this cartoon, written and illustrated by an entire team of people saying, “no, we’re serious. we mean this. we made this on purpose and we made it important.”
Throughout the podcast, Alex discusses little ins and outs of each character, offering so much deep internal struggles and enriching the story even farther. And listening to him unpack it with the utmost sincerity just warms my heart. Each character is so dynamic because they were cared for by people who imbued them with sincerity.
That’s exactly why we get quotes like “Shame is powerful, but it grows in the dark,” as Ford realizes the trauma he’s hidden for so long is being embraced by his family, diminishing it’s weight on him through their immediate support.
It’s why we get Alex describing Stanley with quotes like; “I always in my gut thought of him as somebody with a huge well of sadness, a loss of human connection. And that need to please? That need to get laughs from the crowd, and putting on a big show? He’s trying to get from them the affection he never got from his family, and that he lost with his brother.”
Or detailing how Mabel might be a goof… but half the time she’s doing a bit, because she’s really more mature than her brother and doesn’t want him to grow up too fast. She’s trying to help ground him and bring lightheartedness into his life. Because she knows otherwise, he’ll become too self isolated.
And those two mini character studies he dropped so casually in these podcast episodes just… color the show. It’s why the show survived so well even after ten years. It’s gruff-old Stan always calling his niece “Pumpkin” and “Honey”. It’s the family always holding hands without it behind laced with a joke, and falling asleep on one another in the car. It’s Alex explaining that people toyed with other endings, other plot lines, other twists, but it was always going to end with Stan and Ford mending the family tie they severed thirty years ago. Because that was their story. Messes and family and care.
Ten years ago, watching it for the first time as it came out, I felt all that. But now, as an adult, knowing that all the other adults who made it felt the exact same way? :,) What a special story we all got to grow up with, and get to continue being apart of.
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earthtooz · 2 months ago
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x : LUST FOR LIFE *+゚
in which: sunday discovers a new emotion when he's under you.
warnings: 1.5k words, sunday is B(h)ORNY and doesn't know how to deal with it, he wants reader so bad, lowkey implied switch!sunday, gn!reader being sunday's freak awakening, NO SMUT BUT UNDER 16 DNI, not edited
a/n: five likes and i'll write nsfw for sunday
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What good is a leader who can’t empathise with the lives of the people he was supposed to be leading?
This thought has plagued Sunday ever since he exiled himself from Penacony, since he joined the Astral Express in a journey of self-discovery and reflection, embracing the Nameless lifestyle so he can broaden the horizons that Penacony had restricted. There, he was so detached from the reality of the people he was trying to help, so trapped in a whirlwind of his own ideals to experience humanity, too buried in official duties to rejoice in the many wonders of the universe, the simple pleasures and the grandiose ones.
Since boarding, the former head of the Oak Family has experienced humiliation, desperation, and many close calls with death. It seems he underestimated how easily trouble found the Trailblazers, and the diary he carries with him has been updated with multiple entries, filled with exasperated recounts that ended with him being grateful that he is still well and unscathed.
Sunday has also experienced laughter, connection, and the bond of humankind- something he did not have before. When he controlled the Oak Family, had everyone under or at his fingertips, the only person he could depend on was himself. When Robin left to travel the cosmos, what was he to do than learn the bitter truth of independence and self-sufficiency? 
Yet, he sits on the couches of the Astral Express and there is bound to be another by him, trying to converse with him like an old friend. He is mentioned in the conversations like an individual who they keep around because they want to, not because he is crafty, not because of what he can offer. No, he can’t offer anything right now, and the crew still wants him to stay.
He learns more about humanity with each passing day.
However, perhaps one of the more puzzling feelings Sunday has had to confront was… infatuation. 
It’s a tricky feeling. It sends his heart into overdrive and his limbs to become jelly, and at the epicentre of this hurricane of uncharted territory, is you. 
“Sunday?” Your voice comes through muffled from the other side of the door. He almost jumps off his mattress at the sound. 
“Door is open,” he responds as calmly as possible, heart thrumming alive at the sound of your voice, beating in time with the rapid succession of your knocks. 
The door slides open slowly to reveal you on the other side. “Pom Pom just wanted to let everyone know that we will be jumping soon.” 
“I see, thank you for letting me know.”
“No problem,” your gaze then flickers to the angels that flock around him and he watches as your eyes gleam with fascination.
Then, without any hesitation or reluctance, you enter his room and approach him, the door sliding closed without your weight to hold it open. You stop before him without a bow, without a formal greeting of ‘Mr. Sunday’- no, you stop before him like an equal, which you most certainly are. In fact, he would even think of himself below you, but Sunday needs to unlearn this assumption of hierarchy, needs to not let it define the relationships he forms, even if he looks up to you and finds you reverent. 
“Hey, I’ve never seen these little guys before!” You exclaim, sticking out a hand to act like a perch for the angel-like summons. One of them flits up to you and stays on your outstretched finger. “Well, not this close, at least.”
It keens at your praise. Like owner like summon, Sunday supposes.
“I don’t tend to bring them out. They are for combat purposes,” he explains. 
Your eyes widen slightly. “Are you trying to pick a fight with me right now?” 
“What? No! That’s not it-”
“-I’m kidding, Sunday,” you snicker. “We’re friends, I wouldn’t want to fight you.”
“Right,” he exhales, “I wouldn’t want to fight you either.”
“Besides, we already did once.”
He freezes at the memory, remembers when he got hit with the exact train he is currently boarding. 
You, however, are unphased by the recollection, and even continue to rub salt in the wound. “I remember fighting against these little summons too, your owner was a real meanie, do you guys know that?” 
They flock around you, spinning and fluttering like little fireflies.  Instinctively, Sunday covers his flustered expression with his wings, and he doesn’t budge, even when he hears your laugh, the sound almost enough for him to melt into a puddle by your feet.
“Hey, hey, I was kidding, sorry if I took the joke too far.” 
He uncovers himself with an embarrassed sigh, not meeting your eyes. “It’s okay, I think the memory is just… humiliating, more than anything.”
“There are no more hard feelings. Everyone has accepted you on board and none of us think of you to be the same person you were when we first met, I promise.”
Your words are completely earnest, Sunday knows it, can feel it in the way you tell him so unabashedly. So who is he to deny it?
“Thank you,” he says, finally looking up at you, “it means a lot to hear that.” 
“I’ll say it as much as you need. Well, I’ll get out of your hair now, just prepare for the jump-”
Your sentence is interrupted by a shriek when you lose your footing, and Sunday feels it too, the force so strong that even he, while sitting, feels as if is being stretched and pulled into a miniscule hole. What he also feels is your body colliding on top of his, and his hands come to your waist to catch you in an attempt to prevent you from slipping, but it’s not enough and he’s falling with you onto the expanse of his made bed.
The Express is warping to some expanse of the universe, and his stomach drops at the sensation, spreading to the ends of his nerves before disappearing, just replaced by the extremely odd feeling of being pulled through the stars. He just hopes you’re comfortable, standing up whilst warping is tough, he heard the stories of when Stelle first tried to do it and how she fell flat on her face. 
When the feeling of normality returns and Sunday doesn’t feel like he has been stretched out, he opens his eyes and tries to take in the sight before him.
You. Your face. Centimetres away from his.
He’s always thought you were pretty, but seeing you this close… perhaps just pretty is an understatement. His gaze unwillingly flicks to your lips and he wished he hadn’t because suddenly the urge to sit up and lick into your mouth is raging; a fire that can’t be contained. 
Sunday wants you to push him down by the shoulders, with no gentleness or mercy, and just… devour him whole. His hands want to find you by the hips and pull you into him more than humanly possible, he wants you to indent yourself onto him so he can remember your taste forever, so that, in a way, you couldn’t ever leave him. 
Alternatively, he would happily flip around and pin you against the mattress. He would pry you open, explore the cavern of your mouth with his tongue and suck your sacred essence out of you so that it can stay and settle in his bones instead, replacing where marrow should be. He wants to lay you vulnerable so his hands can explore places only you want him to touch, wants to take you so that you stay forever, wants to feel your tongue against his, wants to hold your face and feel how you react when he takes his time cherishing you, revering you. 
This feeling is too much, these thoughts are overpowering, yet nothing has ever been more clear. Sunday wants you, lusts for you, even, and he’s never felt so intensely for someone before. 
How would the symphonies sound when they learn of the atrocities he wants to perform? 
Temptation holds him close and infects him with a desire so strong, he’s practically frozen in place as you recover from the shock, holding yourself up with your arms that were on either side of his head. 
“Ow, I’m sorry!” You immediately exclaim, before realising exactly what position you are in, your chests are pressed together, and you’re mortified to think about how close you were before you picked yourself off him, and- his… his hips… are pressed against yours- okay, you needed to leave as soon as possible.
You scramble off him like he had burnt you, frantically shouting apologies whilst doing so, the words clumsy and rushed, but neither of you can deny how you miss the warmth that was suddenly ripped away. 
(If he wanted to, you could have stayed in that position with him.)
Then, before you could get anymore thoughts, you turn and practically bolt out of his room without another word, leaving a hot and bothered Sunday behind.
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© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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sharkylass · 4 months ago
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ALRIGHT, I ASKED FOREVER AGO, BUT WHO WANTS TO HEAR ABOUT MY ISA LOOPS AU??
Heads up this contains a lot, and I mean A LOT of spoilers for In Stars And Time. Including: = Act 6 spoilers, including main mystery and secret encounter = Minimal Act 5 stuff = And a bunch of extra stuff that happens through Act 3 and 4. SO BASICALLY ALMOST EVERYTHING, FINISH THIS GAME COMPLETELY BEFORE READING (ESPECIALLY THAT ACT 6 ENCOUNTER, IT WILL LITERALLY BE THE FIRST THING I MENTION UNDER THE CUT)
With all those warnings out of the way-
IN REPETITION AND CHANGE
Initial Concepts:
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I feel it's important to show these sketches because they were the first ideas I ever had. I wasn't even entirely sure I wanted to make an AU at this point, I didn't even know how I'd approach it. But I started sketching and it's been on my mind since- SO! Isa is stuck in the timeloop. I know what his wish is and he DOES have a Loop equivalent! The grumpy dandelion guy is Roboro (it/they/he). Their name is a very small play on Ouroboros and they call Isa "Seedling". However, this post is not about them, as I'm gonna talk about it and Isa's dynamic in a separate post. In short, Isa is his normal loud self up until Act 3, right? They beat the King, they reach the end, and whoops, the loop isn't broken. So now, what happens is that Isa starts getting his brains out. He starts thinking more analytically and tries to problem solve.
The more stuck he gets in his head, the less he's able to perceive his friends as real people, and more like them holding him back. Because even if Isa explains that he's smart, that they shouldn't be surprised if he says something, shock of all shocks, reasonable- They'll forget it the next loop.
So Isa is stuck with trying to portray his confident, loud, supportive facade- Which is fine! It wouldn't be the first time! But it progressively gets more and more frustrating, as he tries to find answers and simply looses the energy to pretend to be stupid.
TL;DR: Isa in the timeloop, unlike Siffrin, becomes more distant and cold rather then something more akin to Sif's mania.
NOW, MORE ART!!!
KILL KILL KILL:
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I imagine Isa didn't have this encounter the same way that Sif did. Yeah, frankly, Isa is pissed with the sadness- But that's not why he goes through with this.
In this moment, Isa is trying to kill two birds with one stone. He's trying to get through this quickly, as well as reassure Mira that they can do this! If he shows how strong he is, then she'll feel safe right???
Poor Isabeau forgot that whenever he shows that he thinks ahead, he scares people. How could he forget that? How could he forget that he's inherently---
Family Quest:
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I still think Odile is the one to call out to him (same with sus quest).
The hangouts I'm still figuring out, cause I don't think they'd too similar to base game- But, fun fact, at the end of this run, everyone agrees to keep travel together!
Isabeau brings it up, can't hurt if you can fix your mistakes right? And everyone agrees. The relief on Siffrin is the most palpable thing Isabeau has ever seen.
In this moment they love you. In this moment they all love you. In this moment---
Death Screen:
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He loops back anyways. (This is one of the initial concepts that I ended up animating. This line in particular is when he reaches the end)
Act 5 Tarot Card:
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NOW TO SEE MORE OF HIS PASSIVE AGRESSIVE SIDE
Thanks to @the-bitter-ocean for prescribing tarot cards to Isa (THEY ALL FUCK SO HARD) and for the RAW ASS LINE
If interacted with in act 5, predictably, Isa tears it apart. He doesn't need the divine judgement upon him, he's faced everyone's perception his entire life.
However, he tears it methodically. Tears it once in even pieces, twice, three times, and one of the pieces once more. In a way he isn't even getting his emotions out, it's like he's actively trying to tear it apart so it stops nagging him, like he wants to shut it up. Though, the Judgement card symbolizes rebirth, absolution and inner calling. In Act 6 he'd be able to look at it and find comfort and confidence in the card.
Act 5 Mirror:
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And lastly, I have the Act 5 mirror picture. I haven't quite figured out how to make the normal ones work yet, however, I couldn't let go of the idea that Isa would not want to be in the picture.
The idea of seeing himself at all makes his head hurt and his stomach squeeze. The memory haunts him as he stands to the side and says the word. He didn't think the mirror would catch him.
AAAAND THAT'S ALL THE ART STUFF FOR NOW!!
I still have quite a bit of it to post, especially about Roboro, but I'm gonna leave it here for now.
I still gotta figure out the hangouts and potentially the dagger equivalent- but I have ideas for Bad Touch, the glass equivalent, and some extra little things that didn't happen in Siffrin's loops.
I needed to yap about this, because I've been slowly stacking up ideas and writing and I needed to share it at some point- If anyone read all this and has questions and stuff I fully welcome 'em!!
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dumplingsjinson · 3 months ago
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List of “please don’t leave me alone” prompts
Using bodies to distract themselves from the fact that they don’t have someone to call their forever; that they aren’t worthy of anything more than just a one night stand or a casual fling.
Lying awake in the dark for the nth time, alone once again, the creeping dread of being alone forever eating away at them; the space next to them empty like it always ends up.
Finding someone and latching onto them for as long as they can, only to be left heartbroken, thoughts of things being this way forever so, so scary; wanting to believe they deserve love but perhaps they don’t and it’s something they have to be okay with.  
Hope at this point becomes false hope, because it’s starting to feel like they’re the reason no one wants to stay.
“Am I not enough of a reason for you to want to stay?” they would wonder on nights when nothing could distract them from their looming thoughts.
So when someone else comes along, they try to sabotage it because they think it wouldn’t work out anyway. As much as they like them, there’s a part of them that’s scared things won’t last, and they aren’t ready for another crushing disappointment.
Numbness is a self-defence mechanism at this point, and it’s quite clear to the both of them that that’s the case.
That person doesn’t leave, though. Not even when they’re being difficult as fuck. They go through many talks, and as frustrated as they are with them at times, they are very firm when they tell them they aren’t gonna leave and will be here for them through thick and thin; that they’re someone they do not want to lose.
Tears streaming down their face when they realise they’ve finally found someone who doesn’t want to lose them; that they’re worthy of unconditional love, as flawed as they are.
“You’re the first person to have ever told me that,” they whisper, voice thick with tears, as the other person holds them while they cry. 
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Join my Discord server: Steaming Dumplings Nation
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DPXDC prompt. Dead on main. Singer! Phantom x Red Hood!Jason
Laws are easily changed if businessmen smell money.
Paulina and Sam suggest Danny to try to become a singer in order to change society's opinion about ghosts a little. In the end, the otherworldly sound of his voice can at least be used for the benefit of Realms.
And it seems like the Everlasting Trio is really liked by the public. At first they just release a few songs (Exams kill, Battle with myself, What an Autopsy Won't Show, Among the stars). But a mysterious atmosphere mixed with understandable teenage problems begins to take over teens playlists. Their fans want more and more.
So, when under the pressure of the public and profit-hungry bigwigs all bans on the presence of ecto creatures in the United States are lifted, the Trio goes on their first Tour.
~~~~~
Jason stumbles upon Phantom's songs completely by accident. It was painful to hear them for the first time but at the same time it was as if he could breathe again because he had found someone similar. Someone who understands, and who doesn't judge him for coming back wrong. Jason listens to his voice on repeat and the rage seems to recede and subside. There is sadness of loss and fear in the songs but most of them end bringing some hope and this thought gives Red Hood more strength not to break down for another day. and then another, and another..And one day, the green eyes in the mirror do not scare Jason but shows him that he belonging to something more. Todd can't explain it more precisely, but it was as if the waters of Lazarus inside him had calmed down and he was no longer enemies with them. He even jokes with Tim that he is finally rest in peace and ready to live a full undead life when his brother (God, his lil brother whom he wanted to hurt recently because of his own stupidity), asks him about his strange behavior.
~~~~~
Jason forgets how to breathe again. His favorite band, and most importantly his favorite vocalist, is coming to Gotham with a concert. For many years now, none of the nonresidents have dared to take such a risk, but it seems like Phantom has absolutely no instinct for self-preservation. Well, as a true fan, Red Hood will do his best so that none of the gothamites spoil the Trio's impression of their first concert here. Danny is beside himself with excitement. Their concert in the hometown of the Red Hood was approved. Of course, there is no chance that he would be able to meet such a busy vigilante but Phantom continues to dream. If he'll fly a little over the city instead of sleeping after rehearsals, maybe he'll get an autograph from at least one member of the bat clan.
~~~~~ Phantom: Thank you very much Mr. Nightwing sir. Just sign it for.. Nightwing: For a Phantom, right? Huh, I recognized you, my brother has poster in his room. Nice hairstyle by the way. Danny*urgently*: Which one of them?
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Nightwing: Jeez, and I thought it was just a stage image. Ghosts are kinda creepy. Terribly persistent, to be precise. And yeah, Jason, he absolutely not against you as a vigilante. You can safely ask Phantom to sign your helmet, I promise. Man was so happy when find out you're listening to his songs, you have no idea.
Jason *holds out a hand*. Nightwing: What? Jason: If you dared to meet Phantom before me, then where is my autograph? Nightwing: Em..oops? I gave him mine if it helps.
Jason: *sounds of an angry lazarus demon*.
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