white-wolf-buckaroo

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

Takes one to know one

A dad!Vander fic (with my og character, Luna, Vander's fifth adopted child)

Set before Act 1.1.

Masterlist: there you go

Disclaimer: english ain't my first language folks

Powder was best friends with Ekko.

The two of them were inseparable, always whispering secrets, inventing games, or daring each other to do something ridiculous. When Powder wasn’t with Vi, she was with Ekko, and everyone knew it.

Vi had Mylo—though they bickered like they were sworn enemies half the time—and Claggor, who balanced them both out with his quiet, steady presence. Even Vander had Benzo, someone he could talk to over drinks at the bar, a friend he trusted like a brother.

It seemed like everyone had someone.

Except Luna.

She didn’t mind most of the time. She loved to spend time with her siblings and her father, and when they were busy, she was good at keeping herself busy, filling pages with her drawings and wandering the streets of the Lanes on her own little adventures. But sometimes, when she watched Powder and Ekko disappear into a corner giggling, or Vi and Mylo roaring with laughter over some game, it stung a little. Like a quiet ache she didn’t know how to fix.

Until one day.

It was one of those days where the border between the Undercity and Piltover seemed thin—where the factories weren’t quite so loud, and the smog didn’t hang so heavy in the air. Luna had wandered farther than usual, past the familiar alleys and rickety bridges, until she found herself in a place that didn’t quite feel like the Undercity anymore.

The ground was cleaner, less cluttered with broken glass or bits of scrap metal, and the faint hum of Piltover’s machines could be heard in the distance. A cluster of trees grew stubbornly nearby, roots twisting up through cracks in the pavement. Luna crouched beneath one, scribbling furiously in her notebook, when she heard it—soft footsteps approaching.

She froze, gripping her pencil tightly. Someone was there.

“Hey.”

The voice made her jump. Luna’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing at the boy standing a few feet away. He looked to be a little older than her, maybe by a year or two, with messy dark hair and bright blue eyes that seemed too clear and clean to belong to anyone from the Undercity.

He wasn’t like her. She knew it right away.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Luna said, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

The boy tilted his head, frowning slightly. “Neither are you.”

“I live here,” she shot back, even though it wasn’t exactly true—here wasn’t quite the Undercity, but it wasn’t Piltover either. It was somewhere in between, like a forgotten pocket of space.

The boy shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I go where I want.”

Luna stared at him, still wary. He didn’t look dangerous, but he didn’t look like anyone she’d ever met before, either. His clothes weren’t fancy like the Pilties who wandered too far down, but they were clean, and his shoes didn’t have holes in them.

“You’re from up there,” she said, pointing vaguely toward Piltover.

“Is that a problem?” the boy shot back, though there was no bite in his voice. “What’s your name?”

Luna hesitated. Vander had always told her not to talk to strangers—especially anyone from Piltover. But this boy didn’t seem like he was looking for trouble… Right?

“Lu,” she said finally, deciding that her nickname would be a good choice in between. “What’s yours?”

“Seb,” he replied, rocking back on his heels.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Seb glanced at the notebook in her hands, his curiosity obvious. “What’re you drawing?”

“Nothing,” Luna said quickly, clutching the book to her chest. She didn’t trust him—not yet.

Seb raised his hands defensively, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Alright, alright. No need to get mad about it.”

“I’m not mad,” Luna mumbled, but her cheeks flushed slightly. She stood up, brushing dirt from her knees. “Why are you even here?”

Seb looked away, his gaze drifting toward the edge of the trees. “I like to explore. It’s… quieter down here, I guess.”

Luna blinked at him. That was the last thing she’d expected him to say.

“You don’t get scared?” she asked, crossing her arms. “Everyone says Piltover kids are scared of the Undercity.”

Seb met her gaze, his blue eyes sharp but honest. “I’m not scared.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, like two stray cats sizing each other up. Luna wasn’t sure why she didn’t just turn and leave. Maybe it was the way Seb looked at her—not with pity, not with disdain, but with curiosity.

Finally, Luna broke the silence. “Well… you should be careful. The Lanes aren’t nice to strangers.”

Seb grinned, just a little. “I can take care of myself.”

Luna wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she stepped back toward the edge of the trees, her notebook still clutched tightly in her arms. “I’m going home,” she said.

Seb tilted his head again. “Already? We just met!”

“My family is waiting for me,” that was most probably true. She had developed a habit of coming back a bit later than she was used to, not too much to scare anyone, but enough to have Vander waiting by the door for her.

Seb’s smile lingered. “Maybe I’ll see you again.”

Luna paused, glancing back at him. She didn’t answer. Instead, she turned and disappeared into the shadows, her footsteps quiet and careful.

That night, as she sat cross-legged on her bed, Luna couldn’t stop thinking about the boy with the bright blue eyes and messy brown hair. She told herself it didn’t matter—that she didn’t need a friend like everyone else seemed to have.

But for the first time in a long time, the ache she carried didn’t feel quite so heavy.

And in the days that followed, Luna found herself wandering back to that same spot, just in case.

And for days, Seb wasn’t there.

It made her strangely restless—more restless than she thought was possible. Luna wandered farther than usual on those days, poking her head around corners and climbing up onto ledges she’d never climbed before. Always searching. And when she didn’t find him, she scuffed her shoes on the ground and muttered under her breath about stupid Piltover kids who thought they could just disappear.

Little did she know, Seb had been doing the same thing.

The day they finally crossed paths again, the air felt warmer than it had in weeks, as though the smog had thinned just a little, letting the sunlight trickle through. Luna had returned to her spot by the twisted cluster of trees, notebook in hand and a new charcoal pencil tucked behind her ear. She wasn’t drawing today, though. She was slumped against the roots with her knees pulled up, idly tracing patterns in the dirt with a stick.

The sound of footsteps made her ears prick. She froze, gripping the stick like a weapon as her heart thumped against her ribs.

“Hey!”

She knew that voice. Her head snapped up, and there he was—Seb—standing a few feet away, breathless and red-cheeked, like he’d been running. His hair looked messier than usual, and there was a faint scrape on one of his palms where he’d clearly fallen at some point.

“You,” Luna said, blinking at him, her voice somewhere between surprised and accusing.

Seb let out a breathless laugh, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. “Me,” he replied, grinning. “Where’ve you been?”

“Where have you been?” Luna shot back, though there wasn’t much heat to it. She was too pleasantly surprised to see him, though she’d never admit it.

“I’ve been looking for you!” Seb stood up straight, brushing dirt off his pants. “I kept coming back here, and you were never around. I thought you left.”

“I did leave,” Luna said matter-of-factly. “After sitting around here for hours.”

Seb rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, you could’ve left a note or something.”

“A note?” Luna scoffed, crossing her arms.

Seb looked a little sheepish at that, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, yeah,” he muttered, but the smile on his face hadn’t faded. “Anyway, I’m here now.”

Luna stared at him for a moment, trying to decide whether or not she wanted to forgive him for being gone so long—though, truthfully, she wasn’t really mad. They had only met once, after all. But there had been something in their first encounter… Something obvious, that had brought the both of them back to the same place, that neither of them could deny. They had clicked.

Finally, she sighed and scooted over to make room on the roots of the tree. “Well, sit down, then.”

Seb hesitated only for a second before plopping down next to her, his elbows resting on his knees. For a moment, they sat in silence, the sounds of the distant factories humming faintly in the background. Luna watched him out of the corner of her eye, taking in the dirt smudges on his face and the loose thread on his collar. He looked more worn-in than the last time she’d seen him—more like a kid who’d been exploring, not a Piltover boy who belonged in spotless clothes.

“You look like you fell in a gutter,” Luna said finally, breaking the silence.

Seb laughed, a genuine sound that made Luna’s lips twitch. “I did fall,” he admitted, holding up his scraped palm like proof. “Some idiot put a hole in the fence, and I tripped on it.”

“Sounds like you’re the idiot,” Luna teased, though there was no real bite in her voice.

Seb grinned. “Hey, I still made it here, didn’t I?”

Luna didn’t reply right away, her gaze drifting back to the patterns she’d been tracing in the dirt. “Why’d you come back?” she asked quietly.

Seb blinked at her, as if the answer was obvious. “Because I thought you could be here.”

Luna’s hand stilled against the dirt. She didn’t look at him, but her heart thudded a little louder in her chest. She fiddled with the stick in her fingers, fighting the warmth that crept up her neck.

“You’re weird,” she mumbled.

Seb only laughed again. “Takes one to know one.”

Luna smirked, despite herself. She still didn’t look at him, but the corners of her mouth twitched. They sat like that for a little while, not saying much. The quiet between them wasn’t heavy or uncomfortable, though; it was the kind of quiet that felt like being on the edge of something new—like the moment before a storm rolled in or the air just before you took off running.

Seb finally spoke up, breaking the silence. “What do you do with that notebook all the time?”

Luna stiffened, instinctively holding it tighter to her chest. “It’s mine.”

Seb put his hands up again in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m just asking. Not like it’s a treasure, or something.”

“It is treasure,” Luna said stubbornly, her voice quieter than she meant it to be. She turned the stick over in her fingers, her gaze fixed on the dirt. “You wouldn’t get it.”

Seb tilted his head, his curiosity unrelenting. “Try me.”

Luna hesitated. She didn’t want to tell him. Her drawings, her ideas, the little worlds she filled those pages with—they were hers. They were the one place where nobody could make fun of her or tell her she was too small, too young, too much in the way.

But Seb’s blue eyes were steady, waiting—not demanding, just patient.

“… I draw stuff,” she admitted finally, mumbling the words like she was afraid to say them too loud. “And I write things, sometimes.”

Seb’s brows lifted. “What kind of stuff?”

“Just… stuff,” Luna said vaguely. “People, places. Stories.”

“Stories?” Seb repeated, as though the word fascinated him. “Like made-up ones?”

“Yeah,” she said defensively, hugging the notebook closer. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing!” Seb said quickly. He seemed thoughtful, though, his gaze drifting to the trees around them as he spoke. “I think that’s cool. My sister does something like that, too. She always says stories are a way to make the world bigger.”

Luna blinked, startled. “You have a sister?”

Seb nodded. “Yeah. She’s older than me—smarter, too, probably. She reads a lot of books.”

Luna didn’t know what to say to that. Nobody talked to her about siblings like this—not unless they were teasing her about how much time she spent around Vi and Powder. It felt strange, hearing about Seb’s family like it was normal, like he trusted her enough to share it.

After a moment, she looked down at her notebook and muttered, “You’re the first person who’s ever said it’s cool.”

Seb glanced at her, his expression softening a little. “Well, it is.”

Luna didn’t reply, but the quiet warmth she felt earlier returned. She didn’t let herself smile, but she didn’t tell him he was wrong, either.

Seb stretched his legs out in front of him, tilting his face up to the smog-thinned sunlight. “You wanna show me something sometime? One of your stories?”

Luna’s immediate instinct was to say no—to tell him that her stories weren’t for sharing, that they were hers alone. But Seb had a way of asking that didn’t feel like prying. Like he really wanted to see, not just because he was curious, but because he thought it mattered.

“… Maybe,” she said at last, the word escaping before she could change her mind. “Not today, though.”

“Fair enough.” Seb grinned again. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Luna rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t stop the smallest of smiles from slipping through. “You talk too much.”

“Somebody’s gotta keep the conversation going,” Seb teased. “You’re terrible at it.”

Luna scoffed, but the sound turned into a laugh before she could stop it. She clamped her hand over her mouth, glaring at him. “You’re so annoying.”

“Yeah, but you’re laughing, aren’t you?” Seb shot back, his grin widening.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she shoved him lightly on the shoulder, just hard enough to make him stumble to the side with a laugh. He shoved her back—not too hard, just enough to make it a game—and for a little while, they forgot about the smog and the factories and the line that separated Piltover from the Undercity.

They were just two kids sitting under a stubborn tree, in a forgotten pocket of space where the world felt a little bigger than it had before.

Taglist: @keira7664@starryhiraeth@eternallyvenus@gremlinartstudio

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

Hiya

Just wanted to say I love your “the last drop at the last drop” fic

Genuinely it’s one of the sweetest things I’ve ever read, though I am curious, does Luna have any defining features like hair or eye colour

Just kinda curious how you imagine her or if you want people to have their own interpretation of how she looks

Keep up the amazing work! <3

Hi!!! First of thank you so much! <3 Comments like these are always welcome and they warm my heart :)

Now, about your question, I try to not describe her with any specific features such as hair and eye colour as I want everyone to be able to imagine her as they please.

How I see her, though, is resembling Vander's traits, like the brown hair and the gray-ish/green eyes; for me it's like, even though she isn't biologically his, just as the others, she easily passes as his kid, as she obviously is. Just as a way to connect them more, honestly.

Thanks for asking! <3

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

This is somethin’ special, kid

A dad!Vander fic (with my og character, Luna, Vander's fifth adopted child)

Set before Act 1.1.

Masterlist: there you go

Disclaimer: english ain't my first language folks

The sunlight streaming through the grimy windows of the bar was almost cheerful—a rarity in the Undercity. Outside, the sounds of laughter, shouting, and footfalls echoed faintly as Vi, Mylo, Powder, and Claggor ran wild, making the most of the clear day.

Luna, however, hadn’t moved an inch.

She sat at the small table tucked in the corner of the basement, a cluster of colored pencils scattered around her like fallen candy sticks. Her nose was nearly pressed to the page as she worked furiously, muttering little things to herself and occasionally smudging a mark with her thumb.

Vi had been the first to approach.

“Hey, Lu,” Vi called from the stairs, her voice a little breathless, already winded from whatever game they’d been playing outside. The sunlight streaming through the narrow basement window made her silhouette stand out sharply at the top of the steps. “You’ve been down here all morning. Come on! The weather’s good for once!”

“I’m busy,” Luna replied without looking up, her voice sing-songy and stubborn, as if whatever she was doing was far more important than the rare sunshine outside.

Vi frowned, taking a step down. “Busy? Busy with what?”

“Stuff,” Luna said cryptically, her brow furrowed in concentration as she gripped her pencil and carefully sketched a tiny detail on the page.

“Stuff, huh?” Vi teased, hopping down the last few steps with a thud and crossing the room toward her. She craned her neck to see what Luna was working on, hands tucked casually in her pockets. “What kinda stuff?”

“Secret stuff.”

Vi’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Secret? What, like a treasure map? Some sorta… master plan for takin’ over the basement?” She leaned in just enough to catch a glimpse over Luna’s shoulder—

But Luna was faster. With a sharp gasp, she threw a tiny arm over the paper like a shield, hunching over it as if it were the most valuable thing in the world. “You can’t see!” she declared dramatically.

Vi blinked, startled by the sudden defensive move. “Whoa! Okay, okay!” She raised her hands in mock surrender, laughing lightly. “Didn’t know it was top-secret business.”

“It is,” Luna said firmly, shooting her a very serious look from under her lashes before going back to her work.

Vi crouched down beside her, resting her elbows on her knees as she watched the little girl scribble furiously with a pale blue pencil. The focus Luna had was impressive—her tongue even stuck out slightly between her lips as she coloured like her life depended on it.

“Alright,” Vi said after a moment, a little more gently now. “But you’ve been down here all morning. Everyone’s starting to wonder where you ran off to, y’know.”

“I didn’t run anywhere,” Luna mumbled, still not looking up.

Vi snorted. “That’s the problem, goblin.”

Luna froze just long enough to look up, her face scrunched in confusion. “Goblin?”

“Yeah. Like a little basement goblin.” Vi smirked, nudging her lightly with her shoulder. “All holed up down here, not talkin’ to anyone, hidin’ secret treasure…”

Luna’s lips twitched, but she tried to smother the smile, ducking her head back down over her drawing. “I’m not a goblin.”

“You sure? Actin’ pretty goblin-y to me,” Vi teased, tilting her head to try sneaking another peek.

“No looking!” Luna shot her a sharp glare, one hand still protectively covering the paper.

Vi held her hands up again, her grin growing. “Alright, alright! Don’t bite my head off!” She stood up and put her hands on her hips, giving Luna a lingering, suspicious glance. “Y’know, if this is some sorta surprise for Mylo, I’m gonna need a heads-up. I don’t wanna be caught in the crossfire.”

“It’s not for Mylo,” Luna muttered quickly, cheeks faintly pink.

“Ohhh,” Vi said dramatically, dragging the sound out. “Well, now I really wanna know what it is.”

“You’ll see later,” Luna said stubbornly, waving her hand dismissively. “Maybe.”

Vi rolled her eyes but crouched down again, her voice softening as she studied Luna’s expression. “You okay down here, though? You’ve been awfully quiet. Feels… weird without you running around making trouble.”

“I’m fine,” Luna answered quickly, though her focus didn’t waver. “I’m just… busy.”

Vi didn’t quite believe her, but there was no sadness in Luna’s voice or eyes—just that same determination she got whenever she was working on something important. With a small sigh, Vi straightened up again. “Alright. But promise me you won’t forget to eat, yeah?”

“Mmhm,” Luna hummed, already sifting through her box of coloured pencils like Vi had ceased to exist.

Vi shook her head with a small, fond smile as she headed back to the stairs. “Goblins gotta eat too, y’know,” she called over her shoulder, just loud enough for Luna to hear.

“I’m not a goblin!” Luna shouted back, though Vi swore she could hear the giggle that followed.

“Sure, sure,” Vi muttered with a grin, taking the steps two at a time. “But don’t blame me when you start growin’ pointy ears.”

Luna let out a exaggerated “Vi!” and the sound of Vi’s giggling was heard all the way she ran up the stairs.

Claggor came next. Luna was still at the little table, surrounded by the mess of pencils and scraps of paper, her head bent so low it was a wonder her nose wasn’t smudged with colour.

“Hey, Lu,” Claggor started, his voice calm and friendly as ever. “You sure you don’t wanna come outside? It’s warm out.”

“No,” came the short reply, muffled slightly as Luna leaned closer to her page, her tiny fingers gripping a dark brown pencil with fierce determination.

Claggor raised an eyebrow, not giving up so easily. “You’re missin’ the sun, y’know. It’s not gonna stick around forever.”

“Don’t care. I’m busy,” Luna replied firmly, her pencil pausing just long enough to emphasize her words.

Claggor took a step closer, crouching down to try to get a better look at her paper. “Yeah, I can see that. What’re you workin’ on, anyway?”

The reaction was immediate. Luna snapped her head up and threw an arm over her page, clutching it protectively against the table like a dragon guarding its hoard. Her wide eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“No looking!”

Claggor held his hands up in mock surrender, his face splitting into a small grin. “Alright, alright, no lookin’! Sheesh. You don’t gotta bite my head off.” He straightened back up, towering over her once more, and gave her an exaggerated frown. “I’m just makin’ sure you’re still alive down here.”

“I’m fine,” Luna said, the faintest hint of sass creeping into her tone. She picked up a pale blue pencil and went right back to her work, dismissing him entirely.

“…Want me to bring you somethin’, then?” Claggor offered after a beat, clearly unsure what else to say. “A snack? Some water?”

For the first time in their exchange, Luna paused. She lifted her head just enough to meet his gaze, the corners of her lips turning up into a sweet, disarming smile—one that only seemed to appear when she was about to get her way.

“No thanks!” she chirped, her voice as polite as could be. Then, just as quickly, she dropped her head and returned to her drawing, completely shutting him out once again.

Claggor blinked, caught somewhere between exasperation and amusement. He let out a small chuckle as he shook his head, muttering under his breath, “Suit yourself, kid,” before backing away. He gave the table one last glance, like he might somehow catch a glimpse of the elusive drawing, but Luna didn’t budge.

By midday, Mylo came stomping down the stairs with the kind of energy that suggested he had already lost one argument with Vi and wasn’t about to lose another—not without a fight. He skidded to a stop near Luna’s table, hands on his hips, and squinted down at her like he was assessing a particularly tricky puzzle.

“Alright, Lu,” he started, voice sharp with mock authority. “This has gone on long enough. You’re comin’ outside.”

Luna didn’t even glance up from her work, her pencil moving swiftly across the paper as if he wasn’t there at all. “No, I’m not.”

Mylo groaned, already frustrated. “You don’t even know what you’re missing! It’s warm, there’s sun, and Vi’s gonna let us play kickball in the alley. You love kickball!”

“I’m busy,” Luna replied, her voice cheerful and infuriatingly calm.

“Busy doin’ what?” Mylo demanded, stepping closer to peer over her shoulder.

“It’s a secret!” Luna shot back instantly, shifting in her seat so her arms could block more of her paper.

Mylo groaned again, louder this time, and threw his head back like he’d been personally victimized. “That’s not fair!”

“It’s perfectly fair,” Luna said matter-of-factly. “It’s my secret.”

“You’re gonna tell us eventually, though, right?” Mylo tried, leaning forward with a hopeful look.

“Nope.”

He threw his arms up in defeat. “Ugh! You can’t just lock yourself in the basement all day!”

“I can,” Luna said brightly, finally looking up at him with a smug little grin, “and I am.”

The confidence in her voice made Mylo’s eye twitch. “Fine! You know what?” He quickly shifted tactics, slipping into a tone he probably thought sounded persuasive. “If you come outside right now, I’ll let you pick first when we play cards later. You can pick any seat you want. Even Vi’s spot. Deal?”

Luna paused for the first time, her pencil hovering midair like she was actually considering it. Mylo held his breath, his face lighting up in anticipation.

But just as quickly, Luna shook her head and went back to her work. “No deal.”

“What?!” Mylo sputtered, clearly offended. “How is that not a good deal?!”

“Don’t wanna,” Luna said simply, as if that explained everything.

“You’re impossible,” Mylo huffed, pacing back and forth like he couldn’t believe he was losing this battle to a kid half his size. “Come on, what are you even doing that’s so important?”

“I told you, it’s a secret,” Luna said, her voice sing-song as she scribbled a bright yellow streak across her page.

“That’s not fair!” Mylo whined, throwing his arms up so dramatically it was a miracle he didn’t knock something over. “You can’t just ignore us all day and keep secrets!”

“I can,” Luna said again, this time with a tone that clearly said checkmate.

Mylo gaped at her, visibly at the end of his rope. “You know, someday, someone’s gonna tell you you’re too stubborn, Lu. And you know what you’re gonna do? You’re gonna ignore ‘em, just like you’re ignoring me right now.”

Luna finally looked up, the pencil stilling in her hand as she flashed him a mischievous, all-too-satisfied smile. “Probably.”

That did it. Mylo let out a dramatic groan, flopping onto the bottom step like all the energy had been drained from him. “This isn’t over, Lu,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’ll be back. You will break eventually.”

Luna, grinning smugly, waved him off with a little flick of her fingers, like she was dismissing a servant. “Goodbye, Mylo.”

He shot her a glare but didn’t bother responding. Instead, he dragged himself back up the stairs, loudly grumbling the whole way about “stubborn little sisters” and how he was “never offering her the first pick again.”

As soon as he was gone, Luna giggled quietly to herself, her pencil once again scratching across the page with unshakable focus.

Powder, being the last of the kids to try, approached Luna with far more caution than the others. Unlike Mylo’s dramatics or Claggor’s attempts at reason, Powder had the subtle approach of someone who knew how to get around people’s walls—especially Luna’s. She peeked into the basement first, her blue hair slipping into view before she followed, small and quiet.

Luna didn’t look up. She was too absorbed in her drawing, her brow furrowed in concentration as she carefully added a bright patch of pink. Powder crept closer, hands stuffed into the pockets of her worn coat, and hovered near the edge of the table.

“You’re still down here?” Powder asked softly, tilting her head as she studied Luna’s serious little face.

“Yep,” Luna replied, distracted, her pencil scratching away.

“…You missed lunch,” Powder pointed out, like it was a casual observation and not something Vander had sent her down to say.

Luna shrugged. “Not hungry.”

Powder made a thoughtful noise and sat down across from her, resting her chin in her hands as she tried to sneak a look at what Luna was doing. “What’s so important you’re staying in all day?”

Luna instantly dropped her arm over the drawing, glaring suspiciously. “It’s a secret.”

“Oh, a secret,” Powder said, like this was exciting news. Her face lit up, curiosity overtaking her. “Is it a good one?”

“The best one,” Luna replied smugly.

Powder bit her lip to keep from smiling too much and leaned in closer, lowering her voice like they were conspiring. “Will you tell me?”

“Nope.”

“What if I pinky swear not to tell anyone else?” Powder offered, holding out her hand.

Luna raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Nice try.”

Powder sighed dramatically, dropping her hand back to the table with a thud. “Well, I think you’re missing out,” she said, adopting her best nonchalant voice, though her blue eyes sparkled mischievously. “Me and Vi found a spot in the alley where the sun makes this huge warm patch. It’s perfect for sitting. And Mylo… he almost fell in a puddle earlier. You should’ve seen his face.”

That earned her a small snort of amusement from Luna, though the little girl quickly hid it behind her serious expression. Powder grinned triumphantly. “See? It’s fun out there.”

“I’m busy,” Luna insisted firmly, her pencil going back to work.

Powder hummed, watching her closely. Then, after a beat, she pulled out her trump card. “You know… if you come outside, I could show you where the pigeons are nesting on the roof.”

Luna paused. Her head shot up, eyes narrowing as if she were trying to figure out whether Powder was bluffing. “The roof?”

“Uh-huh,” Powder replied innocently, already pleased with herself. “And they have babies right now. All fluffy and everything.”

Luna hesitated, her pencil tapping against the paper. “How do you know?”

“I saw them, Ekko showed me” Powder said, like it was obvious. She leaned forward with a grin, voice soft and teasing. “But I’m not gonna show you unless you come outside.”

For a moment, it seemed like Luna might crack. She fidgeted, chewing on her lip as she considered the offer. But just when Powder thought she’d won, Luna gave a resolute shake of her head. “I can’t.”

“Why?” Powder groaned, slumping over the table like all her efforts had been for nothing.

“I told you—it’s important!” Luna said, exasperated, shielding her paper again.

Powder peeked up at her through a curtain of blue hair, defeated but still curious. “More important than baby pigeons?”

“Yes,” Luna said firmly, though she did sound a little regretful.

Powder sighed, finally accepting her loss. “Fine. But you’re still missing out.” She stood up slowly, brushing the dust off her knees, and gave Luna one last look. “You’ll tell us what you’re doing later, right?”

“Maybe,” Luna replied with a secretive grin, clearly enjoying keeping everyone guessing.

“You’re more stubborn than Mylo,” murmured Powder, leaving to go back with the others.

Finally, it was Vander’s turn.

His presence was announced before he even appeared—heavy footsteps creaking on the boards above, slow and deliberate, as if he was giving Luna time to realize he was coming. When he descended the stairs, it was in his usual way: solid, unhurried.

Luna’s head popped up briefly, just long enough to acknowledge him, before she ducked right back down, pencil scratching furiously across the page.

Vander stopped halfway down the stairs, resting his massive forearms on the railing as he tilted his head, watching her with a mix of amusement and concern. His brows furrowed slightly, though there was the faintest hint of a smile beneath his beard.

“Y’know, kid,” he started, his deep voice rumbling through the quiet basement, “when the entire house thinks somethin’s wrong, it’s usually ‘cause somethin’ is wrong.”

“I’m fine,” Luna replied, her tone drawn-out and exaggerated, as if she were rolling her eyes without actually doing it.

“Yeah?” Vander raised an eyebrow, his skeptical look clear even from across the room. “You sure about that?”

“Yes.” Luna didn’t even look up this time, pencil moving with absolute focus. After a beat, she added in a sweet, singsong voice, “I just need juice.”

“…Juice?” Vander repeated flatly, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard her right.

Luna finally glanced up, her big eyes peeking at him from under a curtain of hair. “Please,” she added innocently, the word practically dripping with charm as she batted her lashes for emphasis.

Vander let out a low, gruff chuckle, shaking his head in defeat. “Juice, huh?” he muttered, though his voice carried no real resistance. “Fine. But you’re getting a sandwich too. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you didn’t show up for lunch, young lady.”

“Okay,” Luna chirped happily, her attention already back on her drawing.

Vander lingered for a moment, still watching her with that mix of curiosity and fatherly concern before turning back to the stairs. “Don’t think I’m gonna let you starve yourself just ‘cause you’re bein’ stubborn,” he said over his shoulder as he ascended.

“Not starving!” Luna called back, though Vander was already halfway up, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like kids.

True to his word, Vander returned about ten minutes later. He carried a glass of juice in one hand and a thick sandwich stacked high with meat and cheese in the other, just how he knew she liked it. Despite his large, heavy build, he set them beside her with a surprising gentleness, careful not to disturb her paper or pencils.

“Here. Juice and food.” He straightened up and loomed slightly, leaning just enough to sneak a glance at what she was working on. “So, what’s��?”

“No looking!” Luna yelped, flinging an arm over her paper and scowling up at him like he’d just committed the greatest betrayal.

Vander stepped back immediately, holding up both hands like she had him at wandpoint. “Alright, alright! Hands off. Just curious, is all.”

Luna huffed in satisfaction, giving him a look that clearly said you should know better, before returning to her drawing like nothing had happened.

Vander’s smirk returned as he folded his arms over his chest, still watching her. “Don’t forget to eat, artiste,” he teased, his voice laced with fondness.

“I won’t,” Luna replied without looking up, already reaching for the sandwich with her free hand while still holding the pencil with the other.

Vander shook his head, the smile lingering on his face as he backed away. “You’re somethin’ else, kid. Don’t work too hard.”

He turned and climbed the stairs once more, leaving Luna to her mysterious masterpiece. Before he reached the top, he called back, “And if you need anything else, don’t send Mylo after me, got it?”

“Got it!” Luna giggled, clearly pleased with herself.

Vander shook his head one last time, muttering to himself as he disappeared from sight. “She’s got me wrapped around her finger, that one…”

By the time the sun dipped low and shadows crept into the basement, Luna finally looked up from her page. Her hand ached, and her fingers were stained with pencil marks, but a satisfied smile spread across her face.

She carefully gathered up her masterpiece and marched up the stairs, determination in every step.

The others were gathered in the bar, sweaty and dusty from their day outside. Vi and Mylo were arguing over cards, Powder was sprawled out under a table fiddling with scraps of metal, and Claggor was wiping grease off his hands. Vander leaned against the bar, taking a rare quiet moment to sip his drink.

The door creaked as Luna appeared, holding a large piece of paper against her chest.

“I’m done!” she announced.

Everyone froze.

With great ceremony, Luna turned the huge page around and held it up for everyone to see.

The drawing was big, sprawling, and colourful. Many pieces of paper taped together. Smudges and uneven colouring filled every inch of the page, but it was unmistakably a family portrait.

At the centre was Vander, drawn taller than anyone else, with an exaggerated square jaw and big arms that stretched wide as though hugging everyone. Beside him were Vi, Mylo, Claggor, and Powder, each labelled carefully in big block letters. Luna had clearly taken care to add small details—Vi’s bright pink hair, Claggor’s goggles, Mylo’s messy scowl, and Powder holding a half-built gadget. Luna herself stood at Vander’s side, clutching her stuffed fox. Above them, in wobbly letters, she’d written: MY FAMILY.

For a moment, nobody said anything.

“Aw, Lu,” Vi murmured, her face softening as she stood to get a closer look.

“Is that supposed to be me?” Mylo asked, pretending to sound grumpy, though his cheeks were a little pink. “Why do I look so mad?”

“Because you’re always mad,” Powder said, giggling. “Luna, you have to teach me how to draw like this!” she beamed.

Claggor grinned broadly. “This is great, Lu. You really worked hard on this, huh?”

Luna nodded proudly. “It’s for all of us.”

Vander stepped forward, crouching to her level. He took the drawing gently, his rough fingers careful not to smudge it. For a long moment, he just looked at it, his face unreadable. Then he smiled—a real, genuine smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“This is somethin’ special, kid,” he said softly. “We’re gonna hang this up right here in the bar. How’s that sound?”

Luna’s face lit up, and she bounced on her toes. “Really?”

“Really.”

With a nod, Vander grabbed a small hammer and a nail. The others watched as he found a place on the wall behind the bar, right where everyone could see. A few taps later, the drawing was up, slightly crooked but glowing with colour and love.

Luna beamed, stepping back to admire it with the others.

“Now everybody’ll know,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Know what?” Mylo asked.

“That we’re a family.”

Vi slung an arm around her, pulling her close with a grin. “Always and forever, little goblin.”

As the others gathered around, teasing and admiring the picture, Vander leaned back against the bar, arms crossed and a wide, proud smile on his face.

For all the chaos, all the noise and trouble they brought, this—this—was what made it all worth it.

Taglist: @keira7664@starryhiraeth@eternallyvenus@gremlinartstudio

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

Hello I’ve read your “The last drop in The Last Drop” fic and I absolutely adore it!! 🫶

I was wondering when is gonna be a reunion with the whole family (Vander, Vi, Powder/Jinx and Luna) cause I’m really curious??

And what happened to Luna when Vander died, Vi got thrown into prison and Powder/Jinx being taken by Silco??

Sorry if I got a bit overboard with the questions cause I’m so curious. 🥲

Hi!! No need to feel sorry, I love that you're curious!

We will eventually see this happening and unfold, but I don't want to spoil anything for now hahahah

But don't worry, this will happen!

Thanks for reading! <3

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

Okay so I have an idea

Of course you don’t have to do this but it just popped into my head, just thought it was cute

So maybe like, Luna had been kinda ignoring everyone all day and was really focused on her drawings and everyone is a bit worried about her because she wasn’t really talking to anyone and stayed in the same place all day long

But at the end of the day she reveals and a big drawing that she did of her and her family and their all labelled and Vander hangs it up in the bar or something

Hi!! First of, this is such a sweet idea! I love the concept and I've started working on it right away <3! Initially I thought of this as a new drabble but honestly, I couldn't contain myself and it's turned out longer than I thought because I couldn't stop myself.

Here it is! I personally love how it turned out, I hope you like it too :)

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

This is somethin’ special, kid

A dad!Vander fic (with my og character, Luna, Vander's fifth adopted child)

Set before Act 1.1.

Masterlist: there you go

Disclaimer: english ain't my first language folks

The sunlight streaming through the grimy windows of the bar was almost cheerful—a rarity in the Undercity. Outside, the sounds of laughter, shouting, and footfalls echoed faintly as Vi, Mylo, Powder, and Claggor ran wild, making the most of the clear day.

Luna, however, hadn’t moved an inch.

She sat at the small table tucked in the corner of the basement, a cluster of colored pencils scattered around her like fallen candy sticks. Her nose was nearly pressed to the page as she worked furiously, muttering little things to herself and occasionally smudging a mark with her thumb.

Vi had been the first to approach.

“Hey, Lu,” Vi called from the stairs, her voice a little breathless, already winded from whatever game they’d been playing outside. The sunlight streaming through the narrow basement window made her silhouette stand out sharply at the top of the steps. “You’ve been down here all morning. Come on! The weather’s good for once!”

“I’m busy,” Luna replied without looking up, her voice sing-songy and stubborn, as if whatever she was doing was far more important than the rare sunshine outside.

Vi frowned, taking a step down. “Busy? Busy with what?”

“Stuff,” Luna said cryptically, her brow furrowed in concentration as she gripped her pencil and carefully sketched a tiny detail on the page.

“Stuff, huh?” Vi teased, hopping down the last few steps with a thud and crossing the room toward her. She craned her neck to see what Luna was working on, hands tucked casually in her pockets. “What kinda stuff?”

“Secret stuff.”

Vi’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Secret? What, like a treasure map? Some sorta… master plan for takin’ over the basement?” She leaned in just enough to catch a glimpse over Luna’s shoulder—

But Luna was faster. With a sharp gasp, she threw a tiny arm over the paper like a shield, hunching over it as if it were the most valuable thing in the world. “You can’t see!” she declared dramatically.

Vi blinked, startled by the sudden defensive move. “Whoa! Okay, okay!” She raised her hands in mock surrender, laughing lightly. “Didn’t know it was top-secret business.”

“It is,” Luna said firmly, shooting her a very serious look from under her lashes before going back to her work.

Vi crouched down beside her, resting her elbows on her knees as she watched the little girl scribble furiously with a pale blue pencil. The focus Luna had was impressive—her tongue even stuck out slightly between her lips as she coloured like her life depended on it.

“Alright,” Vi said after a moment, a little more gently now. “But you’ve been down here all morning. Everyone’s starting to wonder where you ran off to, y’know.”

“I didn’t run anywhere,” Luna mumbled, still not looking up.

Vi snorted. “That’s the problem, goblin.”

Luna froze just long enough to look up, her face scrunched in confusion. “Goblin?”

“Yeah. Like a little basement goblin.” Vi smirked, nudging her lightly with her shoulder. “All holed up down here, not talkin’ to anyone, hidin’ secret treasure…”

Luna’s lips twitched, but she tried to smother the smile, ducking her head back down over her drawing. “I’m not a goblin.”

“You sure? Actin’ pretty goblin-y to me,” Vi teased, tilting her head to try sneaking another peek.

“No looking!” Luna shot her a sharp glare, one hand still protectively covering the paper.

Vi held her hands up again, her grin growing. “Alright, alright! Don’t bite my head off!” She stood up and put her hands on her hips, giving Luna a lingering, suspicious glance. “Y’know, if this is some sorta surprise for Mylo, I’m gonna need a heads-up. I don’t wanna be caught in the crossfire.”

“It’s not for Mylo,” Luna muttered quickly, cheeks faintly pink.

“Ohhh,” Vi said dramatically, dragging the sound out. “Well, now I really wanna know what it is.”

“You’ll see later,” Luna said stubbornly, waving her hand dismissively. “Maybe.”

Vi rolled her eyes but crouched down again, her voice softening as she studied Luna’s expression. “You okay down here, though? You’ve been awfully quiet. Feels… weird without you running around making trouble.”

“I’m fine,” Luna answered quickly, though her focus didn’t waver. “I’m just… busy.”

Vi didn’t quite believe her, but there was no sadness in Luna’s voice or eyes—just that same determination she got whenever she was working on something important. With a small sigh, Vi straightened up again. “Alright. But promise me you won’t forget to eat, yeah?”

“Mmhm,” Luna hummed, already sifting through her box of coloured pencils like Vi had ceased to exist.

Vi shook her head with a small, fond smile as she headed back to the stairs. “Goblins gotta eat too, y’know,” she called over her shoulder, just loud enough for Luna to hear.

“I’m not a goblin!” Luna shouted back, though Vi swore she could hear the giggle that followed.

“Sure, sure,” Vi muttered with a grin, taking the steps two at a time. “But don’t blame me when you start growin’ pointy ears.”

Luna let out a exaggerated “Vi!” and the sound of Vi’s giggling was heard all the way she ran up the stairs.

Claggor came next. Luna was still at the little table, surrounded by the mess of pencils and scraps of paper, her head bent so low it was a wonder her nose wasn’t smudged with colour.

“Hey, Lu,” Claggor started, his voice calm and friendly as ever. “You sure you don’t wanna come outside? It’s warm out.”

“No,” came the short reply, muffled slightly as Luna leaned closer to her page, her tiny fingers gripping a dark brown pencil with fierce determination.

Claggor raised an eyebrow, not giving up so easily. “You’re missin’ the sun, y’know. It’s not gonna stick around forever.”

“Don’t care. I’m busy,” Luna replied firmly, her pencil pausing just long enough to emphasize her words.

Claggor took a step closer, crouching down to try to get a better look at her paper. “Yeah, I can see that. What’re you workin’ on, anyway?”

The reaction was immediate. Luna snapped her head up and threw an arm over her page, clutching it protectively against the table like a dragon guarding its hoard. Her wide eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“No looking!”

Claggor held his hands up in mock surrender, his face splitting into a small grin. “Alright, alright, no lookin’! Sheesh. You don’t gotta bite my head off.” He straightened back up, towering over her once more, and gave her an exaggerated frown. “I’m just makin’ sure you’re still alive down here.”

“I’m fine,” Luna said, the faintest hint of sass creeping into her tone. She picked up a pale blue pencil and went right back to her work, dismissing him entirely.

“…Want me to bring you somethin’, then?” Claggor offered after a beat, clearly unsure what else to say. “A snack? Some water?”

For the first time in their exchange, Luna paused. She lifted her head just enough to meet his gaze, the corners of her lips turning up into a sweet, disarming smile—one that only seemed to appear when she was about to get her way.

“No thanks!” she chirped, her voice as polite as could be. Then, just as quickly, she dropped her head and returned to her drawing, completely shutting him out once again.

Claggor blinked, caught somewhere between exasperation and amusement. He let out a small chuckle as he shook his head, muttering under his breath, “Suit yourself, kid,” before backing away. He gave the table one last glance, like he might somehow catch a glimpse of the elusive drawing, but Luna didn’t budge.

By midday, Mylo came stomping down the stairs with the kind of energy that suggested he had already lost one argument with Vi and wasn’t about to lose another—not without a fight. He skidded to a stop near Luna’s table, hands on his hips, and squinted down at her like he was assessing a particularly tricky puzzle.

“Alright, Lu,” he started, voice sharp with mock authority. “This has gone on long enough. You’re comin’ outside.”

Luna didn’t even glance up from her work, her pencil moving swiftly across the paper as if he wasn’t there at all. “No, I’m not.”

Mylo groaned, already frustrated. “You don’t even know what you’re missing! It’s warm, there’s sun, and Vi’s gonna let us play kickball in the alley. You love kickball!”

“I’m busy,” Luna replied, her voice cheerful and infuriatingly calm.

“Busy doin’ what?” Mylo demanded, stepping closer to peer over her shoulder.

“It’s a secret!” Luna shot back instantly, shifting in her seat so her arms could block more of her paper.

Mylo groaned again, louder this time, and threw his head back like he’d been personally victimized. “That’s not fair!”

“It’s perfectly fair,” Luna said matter-of-factly. “It’s my secret.”

“You’re gonna tell us eventually, though, right?” Mylo tried, leaning forward with a hopeful look.

“Nope.”

He threw his arms up in defeat. “Ugh! You can’t just lock yourself in the basement all day!”

“I can,” Luna said brightly, finally looking up at him with a smug little grin, “and I am.”

The confidence in her voice made Mylo’s eye twitch. “Fine! You know what?” He quickly shifted tactics, slipping into a tone he probably thought sounded persuasive. “If you come outside right now, I’ll let you pick first when we play cards later. You can pick any seat you want. Even Vi’s spot. Deal?”

Luna paused for the first time, her pencil hovering midair like she was actually considering it. Mylo held his breath, his face lighting up in anticipation.

But just as quickly, Luna shook her head and went back to her work. “No deal.”

“What?!” Mylo sputtered, clearly offended. “How is that not a good deal?!”

“Don’t wanna,” Luna said simply, as if that explained everything.

“You’re impossible,” Mylo huffed, pacing back and forth like he couldn’t believe he was losing this battle to a kid half his size. “Come on, what are you even doing that’s so important?”

“I told you, it’s a secret,” Luna said, her voice sing-song as she scribbled a bright yellow streak across her page.

“That’s not fair!” Mylo whined, throwing his arms up so dramatically it was a miracle he didn’t knock something over. “You can’t just ignore us all day and keep secrets!”

“I can,” Luna said again, this time with a tone that clearly said checkmate.

Mylo gaped at her, visibly at the end of his rope. “You know, someday, someone’s gonna tell you you’re too stubborn, Lu. And you know what you’re gonna do? You’re gonna ignore ‘em, just like you’re ignoring me right now.”

Luna finally looked up, the pencil stilling in her hand as she flashed him a mischievous, all-too-satisfied smile. “Probably.”

That did it. Mylo let out a dramatic groan, flopping onto the bottom step like all the energy had been drained from him. “This isn’t over, Lu,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’ll be back. You will break eventually.”

Luna, grinning smugly, waved him off with a little flick of her fingers, like she was dismissing a servant. “Goodbye, Mylo.”

He shot her a glare but didn’t bother responding. Instead, he dragged himself back up the stairs, loudly grumbling the whole way about “stubborn little sisters” and how he was “never offering her the first pick again.”

As soon as he was gone, Luna giggled quietly to herself, her pencil once again scratching across the page with unshakable focus.

Powder, being the last of the kids to try, approached Luna with far more caution than the others. Unlike Mylo’s dramatics or Claggor’s attempts at reason, Powder had the subtle approach of someone who knew how to get around people’s walls—especially Luna’s. She peeked into the basement first, her blue hair slipping into view before she followed, small and quiet.

Luna didn’t look up. She was too absorbed in her drawing, her brow furrowed in concentration as she carefully added a bright patch of pink. Powder crept closer, hands stuffed into the pockets of her worn coat, and hovered near the edge of the table.

“You’re still down here?” Powder asked softly, tilting her head as she studied Luna’s serious little face.

“Yep,” Luna replied, distracted, her pencil scratching away.

“…You missed lunch,” Powder pointed out, like it was a casual observation and not something Vander had sent her down to say.

Luna shrugged. “Not hungry.”

Powder made a thoughtful noise and sat down across from her, resting her chin in her hands as she tried to sneak a look at what Luna was doing. “What’s so important you’re staying in all day?”

Luna instantly dropped her arm over the drawing, glaring suspiciously. “It’s a secret.”

“Oh, a secret,” Powder said, like this was exciting news. Her face lit up, curiosity overtaking her. “Is it a good one?”

“The best one,” Luna replied smugly.

Powder bit her lip to keep from smiling too much and leaned in closer, lowering her voice like they were conspiring. “Will you tell me?”

“Nope.”

“What if I pinky swear not to tell anyone else?” Powder offered, holding out her hand.

Luna raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Nice try.”

Powder sighed dramatically, dropping her hand back to the table with a thud. “Well, I think you’re missing out,” she said, adopting her best nonchalant voice, though her blue eyes sparkled mischievously. “Me and Vi found a spot in the alley where the sun makes this huge warm patch. It’s perfect for sitting. And Mylo… he almost fell in a puddle earlier. You should’ve seen his face.”

That earned her a small snort of amusement from Luna, though the little girl quickly hid it behind her serious expression. Powder grinned triumphantly. “See? It’s fun out there.”

“I’m busy,” Luna insisted firmly, her pencil going back to work.

Powder hummed, watching her closely. Then, after a beat, she pulled out her trump card. “You know… if you come outside, I could show you where the pigeons are nesting on the roof.”

Luna paused. Her head shot up, eyes narrowing as if she were trying to figure out whether Powder was bluffing. “The roof?”

“Uh-huh,” Powder replied innocently, already pleased with herself. “And they have babies right now. All fluffy and everything.”

Luna hesitated, her pencil tapping against the paper. “How do you know?”

“I saw them, Ekko showed me” Powder said, like it was obvious. She leaned forward with a grin, voice soft and teasing. “But I’m not gonna show you unless you come outside.”

For a moment, it seemed like Luna might crack. She fidgeted, chewing on her lip as she considered the offer. But just when Powder thought she’d won, Luna gave a resolute shake of her head. “I can’t.”

“Why?” Powder groaned, slumping over the table like all her efforts had been for nothing.

“I told you—it’s important!” Luna said, exasperated, shielding her paper again.

Powder peeked up at her through a curtain of blue hair, defeated but still curious. “More important than baby pigeons?”

“Yes,” Luna said firmly, though she did sound a little regretful.

Powder sighed, finally accepting her loss. “Fine. But you’re still missing out.” She stood up slowly, brushing the dust off her knees, and gave Luna one last look. “You’ll tell us what you’re doing later, right?”

“Maybe,” Luna replied with a secretive grin, clearly enjoying keeping everyone guessing.

“You’re more stubborn than Mylo,” murmured Powder, leaving to go back with the others.

Finally, it was Vander’s turn.

His presence was announced before he even appeared—heavy footsteps creaking on the boards above, slow and deliberate, as if he was giving Luna time to realize he was coming. When he descended the stairs, it was in his usual way: solid, unhurried.

Luna’s head popped up briefly, just long enough to acknowledge him, before she ducked right back down, pencil scratching furiously across the page.

Vander stopped halfway down the stairs, resting his massive forearms on the railing as he tilted his head, watching her with a mix of amusement and concern. His brows furrowed slightly, though there was the faintest hint of a smile beneath his beard.

“Y’know, kid,” he started, his deep voice rumbling through the quiet basement, “when the entire house thinks somethin’s wrong, it’s usually ‘cause somethin’ is wrong.”

“I’m fine,” Luna replied, her tone drawn-out and exaggerated, as if she were rolling her eyes without actually doing it.

“Yeah?” Vander raised an eyebrow, his skeptical look clear even from across the room. “You sure about that?”

“Yes.” Luna didn’t even look up this time, pencil moving with absolute focus. After a beat, she added in a sweet, singsong voice, “I just need juice.”

“…Juice?” Vander repeated flatly, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard her right.

Luna finally glanced up, her big eyes peeking at him from under a curtain of hair. “Please,” she added innocently, the word practically dripping with charm as she batted her lashes for emphasis.

Vander let out a low, gruff chuckle, shaking his head in defeat. “Juice, huh?” he muttered, though his voice carried no real resistance. “Fine. But you’re getting a sandwich too. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you didn’t show up for lunch, young lady.”

“Okay,” Luna chirped happily, her attention already back on her drawing.

Vander lingered for a moment, still watching her with that mix of curiosity and fatherly concern before turning back to the stairs. “Don’t think I’m gonna let you starve yourself just ‘cause you’re bein’ stubborn,” he said over his shoulder as he ascended.

“Not starving!” Luna called back, though Vander was already halfway up, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like kids.

True to his word, Vander returned about ten minutes later. He carried a glass of juice in one hand and a thick sandwich stacked high with meat and cheese in the other, just how he knew she liked it. Despite his large, heavy build, he set them beside her with a surprising gentleness, careful not to disturb her paper or pencils.

“Here. Juice and food.” He straightened up and loomed slightly, leaning just enough to sneak a glance at what she was working on. “So, what’s—?”

“No looking!” Luna yelped, flinging an arm over her paper and scowling up at him like he’d just committed the greatest betrayal.

Vander stepped back immediately, holding up both hands like she had him at wandpoint. “Alright, alright! Hands off. Just curious, is all.”

Luna huffed in satisfaction, giving him a look that clearly said you should know better, before returning to her drawing like nothing had happened.

Vander’s smirk returned as he folded his arms over his chest, still watching her. “Don’t forget to eat, artiste,” he teased, his voice laced with fondness.

“I won’t,” Luna replied without looking up, already reaching for the sandwich with her free hand while still holding the pencil with the other.

Vander shook his head, the smile lingering on his face as he backed away. “You’re somethin’ else, kid. Don’t work too hard.”

He turned and climbed the stairs once more, leaving Luna to her mysterious masterpiece. Before he reached the top, he called back, “And if you need anything else, don’t send Mylo after me, got it?”

“Got it!” Luna giggled, clearly pleased with herself.

Vander shook his head one last time, muttering to himself as he disappeared from sight. “She’s got me wrapped around her finger, that one…”

By the time the sun dipped low and shadows crept into the basement, Luna finally looked up from her page. Her hand ached, and her fingers were stained with pencil marks, but a satisfied smile spread across her face.

She carefully gathered up her masterpiece and marched up the stairs, determination in every step.

The others were gathered in the bar, sweaty and dusty from their day outside. Vi and Mylo were arguing over cards, Powder was sprawled out under a table fiddling with scraps of metal, and Claggor was wiping grease off his hands. Vander leaned against the bar, taking a rare quiet moment to sip his drink.

The door creaked as Luna appeared, holding a large piece of paper against her chest.

“I’m done!” she announced.

Everyone froze.

With great ceremony, Luna turned the huge page around and held it up for everyone to see.

The drawing was big, sprawling, and colourful. Many pieces of paper taped together. Smudges and uneven colouring filled every inch of the page, but it was unmistakably a family portrait.

At the centre was Vander, drawn taller than anyone else, with an exaggerated square jaw and big arms that stretched wide as though hugging everyone. Beside him were Vi, Mylo, Claggor, and Powder, each labelled carefully in big block letters. Luna had clearly taken care to add small details—Vi’s bright pink hair, Claggor’s goggles, Mylo’s messy scowl, and Powder holding a half-built gadget. Luna herself stood at Vander’s side, clutching her stuffed fox. Above them, in wobbly letters, she’d written: MY FAMILY.

For a moment, nobody said anything.

“Aw, Lu,” Vi murmured, her face softening as she stood to get a closer look.

“Is that supposed to be me?” Mylo asked, pretending to sound grumpy, though his cheeks were a little pink. “Why do I look so mad?”

“Because you’re always mad,” Powder said, giggling. “Luna, you have to teach me how to draw like this!” she beamed.

Claggor grinned broadly. “This is great, Lu. You really worked hard on this, huh?”

Luna nodded proudly. “It’s for all of us.”

Vander stepped forward, crouching to her level. He took the drawing gently, his rough fingers careful not to smudge it. For a long moment, he just looked at it, his face unreadable. Then he smiled—a real, genuine smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“This is somethin’ special, kid,” he said softly. “We’re gonna hang this up right here in the bar. How’s that sound?”

Luna’s face lit up, and she bounced on her toes. “Really?”

“Really.”

With a nod, Vander grabbed a small hammer and a nail. The others watched as he found a place on the wall behind the bar, right where everyone could see. A few taps later, the drawing was up, slightly crooked but glowing with colour and love.

Luna beamed, stepping back to admire it with the others.

“Now everybody’ll know,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Know what?” Mylo asked.

“That we’re a family.”

Vi slung an arm around her, pulling her close with a grin. “Always and forever, little goblin.”

As the others gathered around, teasing and admiring the picture, Vander leaned back against the bar, arms crossed and a wide, proud smile on his face.

For all the chaos, all the noise and trouble they brought, this—this—was what made it all worth it.

Taglist: @keira7664@starryhiraeth@eternallyvenus@gremlinartstudio

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

You’re my family. Every single one of you.

A dad!Vander fic (with my og character, Luna, Vander's fifth adopted child)

Set before Act 1.1.

Masterlist: there you go

Disclaimer: english ain't my first language folks

Vander wasn’t one to ground his children often, however, he didn’t have a problem with doing so when they got in trouble. The week Vander had grounded Mylo, Vi and Claggor for sneaking out the bar to go watch a rather heated protest in the Lanes against the enforcers had been nothing short of miserable. Being stuck inside the bar with nothing but chores and each other’s bad moods for company felt like a punishment worse than any fight they could’ve picked with Enforcers. The Last Drop, usually bustling with noise and energy, now felt stifling, like the walls were closing in.

Mylo had taken it the hardest, sulking around the place and loudly announcing—at least twice a day—how unfair Vander was being. Vi, though less vocal, had her own way of showing her frustration: rolling her eyes whenever Vander so much as looked her way and kicking at crates as she went about her work. Even Claggor had started grumbling under his breath, a rare sign that Vander’s punishment was wearing him thin too.

Meanwhile, Vander had been busy. Too busy, really. He spent most of his days handling bar business or meeting with people Vi and Mylo weren’t supposed to know about, leaving little time to notice the storm brewing in the kids. Powder and Luna were kept out of the way during the worst of it—Powder spent her time tinkering in a far corner or running around with Ekko, while Luna stayed close to Vander, usually perched quietly near the bar with her stuffed fox in hand. Neither of them had been grounded like the older kids, obviously, as they hadn’t gone to that protest, and after being all stern and borderline rude to Vi and the boys sending them to do chores around the bar, still angry because of what they had done, he was all smiles and laughs with Powder and Luna. All of this had only deepened the wedge.

By the time the fifth day rolled around, the tension had grown unbearable. Luna had gone downstairs after Vander sent her to play, her quiet footsteps barely audible. Powder was off fiddling with gadgets, and Vander had disappeared back into the depths of the bar, leaving the older kids alone in the main room.

And that was when everything boiled over.

Mylo slammed the deck of cards down onto the table, his jaw tight and his eyes flashing with frustration. “This is stupid,” he muttered, glaring at Vi, who sat across from him with her arms crossed. “It was just one protest. We didn’t even do anything! But no—Vander’s gotta act like we started a riot or something.”

Vi shrugged, though her own expression was far from calm. “He’s just worried. You know how he is.”

Mylo scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, worried about his precious rules. Rules he keeps breaking himself when it suits him.” He pointed a finger at her. “Don’t tell me you’re okay with this. We’re grounded for a week! A week, Vi. Can’t even leave the bar.”

“Maybe if you’d kept your mouth shut when he was yelling, it wouldn’t be a week,” Vi shot back, but there wasn’t much bite in her voice. She stared at the cards in front of her, her leg bouncing restlessly under the table. She hated being cooped up just as much as he did, even if she wouldn’t admit it out loud.

Claggor, leaning against the counter nearby, shook his head. “We shouldn’t have gone, that’s all. You know he’s just trying to protect us.”

“Protect us from what?” Mylo snapped. “It’s not like we haven’t seen worse. And it’s not like Powder or Luna aren’t breaking rules left and right without so much as a slap on the wrist.”

The mention of the younger ones drew a tense silence over the room. Even Vi looked uncomfortable, and Claggor frowned.

“That’s not fair,” Claggor said, his tone quieter but firm. “They’re just kids.”

“And what, we’re not?” Mylo shot back, his voice rising. “Vander lets Powder run around with Ekko as she pleases, he treats Luna like she’s made of glass, and we’re the ones who have to walk on eggshells. They don’t even do anything. Powder only fumbles around with those stupid gadgets of hers and when she accidentally explodes something he brushes it off with a smile. If we blew up something, he’d cut off our heads!” he exclaimed, angered. “And Luna…” he stopped for a second, but his adrenaline drive was too high to stop the words from rolling off his tongue before being able to think about what he was about to say. “Luna just sits there looking sad, and he bends over backwards for her. Allows her to stay up longer every time she wants to while he cleans up, gets her everything she asks for, and takes her with him every time he goes to Benzo’s!”

“Mylo—” Vi started, her voice warning, but she didn’t get far.

“I’m just saying what we’re all thinking!” Mylo interrupted, throwing up his hands. “He’s got a favorite, and it’s not us. Don’t pretend like it doesn’t feel that way.”

The next day, Luna could sense a shift. The tension hung in the air like a storm waiting to break, and every glance from Mylo felt colder than the last. Vi wasn’t much better, distracted and distant, and even Claggor, who was usually the first to smile at her, barely said a word.

She didn’t understand what she’d done wrong, but it weighed on her all the same. She sat at a table, clutching her stuffed fox tightly, watching the older kids from the corner of her eye. They had been ignoring her all morning, and when she asked them if they wanted to play marbles with her they had declined, even Claggor, who usually enjoyed their little games. Now, seeing Vi and Mylo whispering to each other, shooting her sideways glances they thought she didn’t notice, something inside her snapped.

Luna stood up abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. “What is your problem?” she demanded, her voice louder than she’d intended.

The room went silent. Mylo turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “What are you talking about, princess?”

“Don’t call me that!” Luna shot back, her small fists clenched at her sides. “I didn’t do anything to you! Why are you being so mean?”

Vi looked at her, startled, but Mylo just crossed his arms. “We’re not being mean. We’re just sick of being treated like dirt while you get to do whatever you want.”

“That’s not true!” Luna yelled, her voice trembling now.

“Yeah, just like that Vander doesn’t have favourites,” he bit back.

“He doesn’t,” her lips formed a pout.

“Yeah, sure not,” Mylo muttered, rolling his eyes. “And it absolutely isn’t you.”

“It’s not!”

“It is!

“It’s not!” Luna’s voice cracked, her eyes burning. “And I’m not!” she hiccupped. “You don’t know what it’s like! You have each other, and I…” Her voice faltered, but she forced herself to keep going, her cheeks flushed with anger and hurt. “He’s the only one who ever wanted me! So maybe—maybe stop being mad at me for something I didn’t do!”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. Mylo’s bravado wavered, his expression flickering with something that looked like guilt. Vi stared at Luna as if she was seeing her for the first time, shocked into silence, and Claggor shifted uneasily, his shoulders drooping.

Finally, Claggor cleared his throat, stepping forward. “Hey, Luna… we didn’t mean to make you feel like that,” he said gently. “Mylo’s just… frustrated. But it’s not your fault. Okay?”

Luna sniffled, her defiance crumbling as she hugged the fox tighter. “It feels like it is,” she said quietly.

Vi sighed, running a hand through her hair. “It’s not,” she muttered, her voice softer now. “Mylo’s an idiot. Don’t listen to him.”

“Hey!” Mylo protested, but Vi shot him a look that shut him up.

Claggor crouched down to meet Luna’s eyes. “We’re sorry,” he said sincerely. “Right, Mylo?”

Mylo grumbled something under his breath, but when Claggor nudged him, he sighed. “Yeah, fine. Sorry, Luna.”

Luna nodded, her lips pressing together tightly, and Claggor gave her a reassuring smile. “See? All good now,” he said. But as he stood, he shot a pointed glance at Mylo, silently warning him to watch his attitude.

The tension still lingered in the air, heavy and unspoken, even as Luna sat back down at the table with her stuffed fox clutched tightly in her lap. Vi watched her out of the corner of her eye, guilt creasing her brow, while Mylo busied himself by shuffling the deck of cards with a little too much force. Claggor sighed and leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, his face carefully neutral but eyes wary.

The sound of footsteps descending the stairs broke through the quiet. Powder’s cheerful humming floated into the room before she appeared, skipping in with smudges of soot on her cheeks and a bright grin on her face. Vander followed close behind, his broad frame nearly filling the doorway. He carried a toolbox in one hand and wore an expression that looked far more relaxed than anyone else’s.

“Powder, you left half your tools on the counter upstairs—again,” Vander said, though his tone carried more fond exasperation than real scolding.

“Sorry!” Powder chirped, ducking into the room and swiping her hands on her shirt as she spotted the others. “We were fixing that old clock in the storage room, and Vander let me help with the gears!” She beamed proudly and turned to the group. “You should’ve seen it! It was all, click-clack-click, and then I—”

She stopped mid-bounce. Her grin faded slightly as she glanced around the room. Something was off. The energy she’d expected to find— the usual, with Vi teasing Mylo, Claggor telling some joke, Luna laughing—wasn’t there. Instead, Luna was quiet at the table, hugging her fox tightly, her face still blotchy from earlier tears. Vi looked awkward, Mylo was avoiding everyone’s gaze, and Claggor shifted on his feet.

Vander noticed immediately. His easy expression hardened, his sharp eyes scanning the room like a hawk. “Alright.” His deep voice filled the silence, brooking no argument. “What’s going on here?”

Nobody answered right away. Mylo froze, eyes darting toward Vi like she might somehow shield him. Vi glanced at Luna before dropping her gaze to the floor. Powder frowned, clearly confused, and looked to Vander.

“Vi?” Vander prompted, his tone softer but insistent.

Vi shifted uncomfortably. “It’s… nothing. Just—Mylo’s being Mylo,” she mumbled, shooting him a warning look.

“Oi!” Mylo snapped, sitting up straight. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Enough,” Vander said firmly, cutting through the bickering like a knife. He stepped farther into the room, his presence commanding. “This doesn’t look like ‘nothing’ to me.” His gaze landed on Luna, who was sitting stiffly, her face half-buried in the plush fox.

“Luna?” Vander’s voice softened as he crouched to her level. “What happened, kiddo?”

Luna hesitated, her small hands gripping the fox tighter. She didn’t want to tattle, but Vander’s steady presence tugged the truth out of her. “Mylo said…” Her voice wavered, eyes flickering briefly to Mylo before returning to Vander. “He said you had favourites. That you like me more than them.”

Vander’s brows shot up, and for a beat, silence hung heavy again. Mylo shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable under Vander’s scrutiny, while Powder’s face scrunched in confusion. “What? That’s stupid!” she blurted out.

Vander stood up slowly, his gaze sweeping across all of them. “That what you think?” His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it now. Mylo flinched slightly. They’d had a talk, one on one, a few days back, about something similar to this. It seemed like Mylo hadn’t been listening much.

“Well—” Mylo began, trying to defend himself, but Vander raised a hand to stop him.

“Let me make one thing perfectly clear,” Vander said, his voice low and steady, every word carrying weight. “I don’t play favourites. Not with you, not with Powder, Vi, Claggor, and not with Luna.” He looked at Mylo, then the others, ensuring none of them could look away. “I look out for all of you. You’re my family. Every single one of you.”

“But you do let Luna get away with stuff,” Mylo muttered, though his voice lacked the earlier bite. “And Powder too.”

Vander sighed, his expression softening. “Luna’s still figuring things out, Mylo. She’s got her own battles, same as the rest of us. And Powder…” He shot her a wry look. “Powder doesn’t get away with half as much as you lot think.”

“Hey!” Powder squeaked indignantly, but Vander ignored her.

“Listen.” Vander placed his hands on the table, leaning forward so he was eye level with the kids. “I know it doesn’t always feel fair. And I know you’re all frustrated—especially after that stunt you pulled at the protest.” His gaze flicked pointedly between Vi, Claggor and Mylo. “But you need to remember: I make these calls because I’m trying to keep you safe. That doesn’t mean I care more about one of you than the others. It means I’ve got to look out for each of you differently.”

Mylo stared at the cards on the table, fiddling with one between his fingers. He didn’t say anything, but his shoulders slumped slightly.

Vander looked back at Luna. “And you, kid,” he said gently. “Don’t you ever think you’ve done something wrong just because these knuckleheads are being idiots.”

“Hey!” Mylo protested weakly.

Luna sniffled but nodded, the corners of her lips twitching faintly in a small, hesitant smile.

“Good.” Vander straightened up, his usual presence of calm authority returning. “Now I want you all to shake this off and quit sulking. And you,” he added, pointing at Mylo with a mock glare, “stop running your mouth when you’re mad.”

Mylo grumbled, “Fine.”

“Atta boy.” Vander clapped him lightly on the shoulder before stepping back. He glanced at Powder. “C’mon, Powder. You can clean up those tools while I grab us lunch.”

“Ugh, do I have to?” Powder groaned.

“Yes, you do,” Vander replied, though there was a faint smile tugging at his lips.

As Vander and Powder left the room, the tension finally seemed to crack like a shell, letting some light back in. Claggor shot Luna a reassuring grin, and Vi nudged Mylo’s arm pointedly.

“Quit pouting,” she muttered. “You did deserve that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mylo sighed, though he looked a little less sullen.

Luna let out a small breath, hugging her fox close. She got up from her chair, grabbing the sack with marbles she had been carrying around looking for someone to play with, and walked over to Mylo. She stretched out her arm in front of him, holding the marbles up to his face.

“Do you want to play?” she asked.

Mylo’s shoulders relaxed a bit as he nodded, grabbing the sack.

“I’m sorry for what I said, Lu,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean it.”

“It’s okay,” she shrugged. “You’re just a kucklehead.”

Vi and Claggor laughed under their breaths at her mispronunciation, but their laughs evolved to full belly laughs after seeing Mylo’s face of indignation.

“Just wait until this kucklehead beats you at marbles,” he bit back, rather playfully, making Luna smile. He looked at the others, motioning with his head to the table. “Are you going to join or not?”

Luna’s smile grew wider as she watched them sit down with her and Mylo, and soon enough they were all laughing again.

From the back room, Vander could hear their cheers, and he smiled too.

Taglist: @keira7664 @starryhiraeth @eternallyvenus @gremlinartstudio

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

Will we find out some things about luna’s birth parents or how she ended up alone at such a young age ??

Hi! I have to admit I haven't planned anything for that yet, but I'm not saying we won't see anything about it in the future :) Thanks for asking!

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

And I’ll keep choosing you, every single day.

A dad!Vander fic (with my og character, Luna, Vander's fifth adopted child)

Set before Act 1.1.

Masterlist: there you go

Disclaimer: english ain't my first language folks

It had been a rough day in the Lanes. The tensions with the Enforcers had escalated yet again, and the people of the Undercity were less than pleased. Whispers of anger and rebellion ran through the streets like poison in the veins of a sick body—too loud to ignore, too dangerous to let fester.

Vander stood at his usual spot behind the bar, wiping down the counter even though there wasn’t much left to clean. The cloth moved in lazy circles over the polished wood, but his hands were on autopilot. His mind was elsewhere—distant, preoccupied—and his shoulders carried the weight of a man trying to hold up a crumbling world.

He’d been tense since morning, ever since a mob of restless fools had swarmed the streets, their voices raw with outrage. Protests against the Enforcers’ recent raids had turned to chaos in the blink of an eye, and although Vander had no desire to get involved, he’d had no choice when he found out his kids were out there—Vi, Mylo, and Claggor, of course. Sneaking out like ghosts, drawn to trouble as moths were to flame.

By the time he’d caught wind of it, they were already gone, leaving nothing but questions and cold panic behind. They hadn’t left a word, not so much as a note, and Vander had stormed through the streets with his heart pounding in his ears. Anger, worry, relief—they all mixed into one sickening knot when he finally spotted them near the edge of the crowd.

Vi had been at the front, fists clenched and jaw set, ready to throw herself into the fire without a second thought. Mylo had been shouting alongside the crowd, full of bluster and bravado, while Claggor lingered close to the side, his face torn between excitement and hesitation.

Vander hadn’t known if he wanted to strangle them or pull them into his arms and never let go.

Instead, he’d grabbed each of them by the scruff, his voice booming like thunder over the crowd. His scolding carried all the way back to The Last Drop, his words sharp with anger, but layered with a worry only someone like Vander could express. By the time he herded them into the basement, his voice was hoarse, his patience threadbare. “Grounded. One week. And don’t think I’ll forget.”

He left them there, stewing in their guilt—or, in Vi’s case, frustration—while he climbed back upstairs to calm himself down. His heart was still racing, his mind spinning, when he found Grayson waiting for him.

She sat at the desk tucked into the shadowed corner of the bar, her expression heavy with the same weariness Vander felt in his bones. They hadn’t needed to exchange pleasantries. Their arrangement had become their shared burden: Keep your people out of Piltover, and we’ll stay out of Lanes' businnes. Simple words on paper, but the reality was a knot of complications neither of them could untangle.

“It’s getting worse,” Grayson had said, her voice a quiet rumble. “People are scared.”

Vander had bristled at that, leaning against the edge of the bar with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “They’re angry, not scared. They want someone to blame, and the enforcers are giving them plenty of reasons.”

“And if this keeps up, we both know how it ends,” she countered.

The truth of it had stung like a wound, and it followed Vander as he opened the bar for the night. Tension thickened the air like smoke, curling into every corner of the room. The regular patrons filed in, but their conversations carried the same hum of unrest he’d heard all day. Every table murmured about the same topic—raids, protests, violence in the streets. It was as though the Undercity itself was holding its breath, waiting for the inevitable match to fall into the powder.

And there Vander stood, a man caught between two worlds. Piltover’s enforcers on one side, his people on the other, and his family—his kids—right at the center of it all.

The glass in his hand squeaked as he scrubbed at it harder than he meant to, his grip tightening. Powder’s giggles carried faintly from one fo the tables, where she was sitting with Luna, Ekko and Benzo, who had been keeping the girls distracted for the day after he dropped them off at his shop before going to fetch the other three rebels. Their innocent chatter was a brief balm against the storm brewing just outside the doors.

He exhaled slowly, shoulders dropping. He knew this life wasn’t sustainable. But for now, all Vander could do was hold the line—keep his family safe, keep the Undercity from tearing itself apart.

He didn't see Vi, Mylo and Claggor through the night at the bar, and he was very much relieved for them staying in the basement, for once doing what he had told them. He'd have to have a more serene and serious chat with them about not heading straight to danger, especially before it could ocurr to them to let Powder or even Luna tag along with them.

Now, later that night, the bar was quieter, the earlier noise and tension reduced to a low hum. Vander had managed to send Powder to bed after some gentle coaxing, but Luna had been stubborn, her big eyes silently pleading with him to let her stay. In the end, he didn’t have the strength to argue. Not tonight. With the day he’d had, filled with protests, scoldings, and weighty conversations, he let her stay upstairs. She’d settled herself on the floor across the room, cross-legged and clutching the patchy stuffed fox he’d scrounged up for her some time ago.

The toy had seen better days—its fur was matted, one of its button eyes hung loose, and its seams were beginning to fray—but to Luna, it might as well have been a treasure. She hugged it close, her tiny fingers twisting at its worn ears, her knuckles white from how tightly she held it.

She’d been quiet all day, which wasn’t entirely unusual for her. Luna was a small shadow in a big, noisy world—a world that didn’t always make space for kids like her. But there was something different about her silence tonight. It hung in the air like a heavy fog, clinging to every corner of the bar. Vander had noticed it in the way she sat, so still it was almost unnatural, her little shoulders hunched inward like she was trying to make herself smaller.

The sight tugged at something deep in Vander’s chest, a part of him that had softened over the years despite everything the Lanes had thrown at him. He stopped wiping the bar, setting the rag down as a deep sigh escaped him. He watched her for a moment longer, torn between giving her space and knowing when to step in.

The day had been long and hard—too much shouting, too much tension, and not enough answers—and a part of him wanted nothing more than to let the world slip away for a little while. But there she was, curled up on the wooden floor, clutching her fox like it was the only thing keeping her together.

He couldn’t leave her like that.

With another sigh, he walked over and crouched down beside her, his large frame casting a shadow over her small one. The floorboards creaked softly under his weight, but Luna didn’t look up right away. He studied her for a moment, noting the way her lower lip trembled as if she was holding something back.

“What’s the matter, kiddo?” he asked, his voice softer than usual, the gravel smoothed out by concern. “You’ve been awfully quiet today.”

Luna glanced up at him, her wide eyes glimmering with unshed tears that made them look even bigger. For a heartbeat, she hesitated, chewing on the inside of her cheek like she wasn’t sure if she should speak at all. Then, finally, her voice slipped out, so soft it could’ve been mistaken for the creak of an old floorboard.

“Do you have to fight them?”

Vander’s brows furrowed. He tilted his head slightly, trying to make sense of her words. “Fight who?”

“The Enforcers,” she said, her voice breaking just slightly as she hugged the fox tighter against her chest. “I heard Vi say you might have to.”

Vander let out a long, slow breath, as if releasing the weight of the entire day all at once. He lowered himself the rest of the way to the floor, wincing as his knees groaned in protest. With a heavy thud, he leaned back against the counter, stretching out his legs in front of him.

“Ah, Vi’s got a big mouth sometimes,” he muttered, more to himself than to her, though a faint smile flickered on his lips for just a moment. “But no, Luna. I don’t want to fight anyone, not anymore. Not if I can help it. My job is to keep all of you safe, not to pick fights.”

For a moment, Luna didn’t respond. She just sat there, clutching her fox like it was a shield, her small fingers tracing circles into its fur. Then she looked at him again, and this time there was something else in her eyes—something deeper, as if the weight of the day had finally caught up to her too.

“What if… what if you can’t?” she whispered.

"Where's all of this coming from?" he asked back, concerned. "Luna, kiddo, you shouldn't worry about that."

"But Vi said that... That someone should do something. Someone like you, who people listen to." her lips formed a pout, her eyes getting glossier. "What if they hurt you? What if they take you away from us?”

The questions hit him harder than any punch he’d ever taken. Vander froze, feeling the air shift around them, heavy with the unspoken fears she’d carried for far too long. He swallowed, his throat tight, as the memory of Silco’s sneering face flickered through his mind. Luna might not have seen it firsthand, but kids weren’t blind to the world—not when the walls they lived behind were so thin.

His poor little girl. She shouldn’t be carrying burdens like this. None of them should.

Slowly, Vander reached out and scooped her into his arms. Luna didn’t resist; she just melted into him, burying her face against his chest as his strong arms wrapped securely around her. He cradled her close, rocking her gently like he used to with Powder when she couldn’t sleep.

“You don’t have to worry about that, sweetheart,” he murmured, his deep voice a low rumble in the stillness. He rested his chin lightly on the top of her head, letting the warmth of her small body seep into him. “I’m not going anywhere. As long as I’m breathing, nothing’s gonna happen to you or your siblings. I promise.”

For a moment, Luna said nothing. She simply clung to him, her tiny fists curling into the fabric of his shirt like she was afraid he might disappear if she let go. Then, in a voice so quiet it nearly broke him, she hesitated, her small voice shaky as it finally came. “I… I heard Mylo say we’re not really your kids. Does that mean you… could leave us? Could leave me?”

Vander’s heart stopped. The words struck him deep, sharper than any blade. He'd have to have another additional talk with Mylo, maybe even before tonight ended; he had a big mouth, just like Vi, but at least she knew better how to not spit out her harshness in front of her younger siblings and not direct to them.

He tightened his hold on Luna, leaning back slightly so he could look her in the eyes. His expression turned serious—not harsh, but firm, like when he told her to never let go of his hand when they were outside.

“Luna, you listen to me carefully now,” he said, his voice low but steady. “Blood doesn’t make a family. You’re here because I chose you. Same with Vi, same with Powder, and same with Claggor, and with Mylo. Even if all of you get in trouble from time to time." he pinched her sides, making her lips break into a smile for a second. "And I’ll keep choosing you, every single day. You’re my kid, you all are, no matter what. Don’t ever think otherwise.”

Luna stared at him for a long moment, her tear-streaked face full of something he couldn’t quite name—hope, maybe, or disbelief. Slowly, the tension in her small body began to ease, like the words had finally reached her. She sniffled, wiping her nose against his shirt before whispering, “Okay, Daddy.”

The word hit him like a wave, crashing over him and stealing the breath from his lungs. He’d been called many things in his life—a leader, a protector, a criminal—but “Daddy” was not one of them. And yet, here it was, so small and unassuming, spoken with such trust it nearly brought him to tears.

A slow, warm smile spread across his face. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his voice soft as he whispered, “That’s right. Daddy’s here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Luna nestled back into his chest, her little body finally relaxing, as if all the fears she’d carried had been lifted. All thanks to him. Vander held her close, letting the quiet settle around them like a blanket. Outside, the world was still a mess—the tension with the Enforcers, the whispers of unrest—but here, in the soft glow of the bar, he had everything that mattered.

For Vander, that single word—spoken so innocently and yet with so much meaning—was enough to remind him why he fought so hard, why he carried the weight of the Lanes on his shoulders.

Because this—these kids, their laughter and their tears—this was his family. And nothing in the world mattered more.

Taglist: @keira7664@starryhiraeth @eternallyvenus

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

Out of curiosity, How old is Luna?

So, let’s start saying that I consider that Vi and Powder (and also Mylo and Claggor) would have been living with Vander for around 3 to 4 years before the end of Act 1.1. (not saying this is canon! It’s just my impression on it considering Vander takes the girls in when they look visibly younger, and we do know Vi is around 15 when Act 1.1. ends).

I picture Luna younger than Ekko and Powder (who I think are around the same age), then Mylo and Claggor are a bit older, and then the oldest is obviously Vi.

Considering all of this:

When Vander takes Luna in, I think she’d be around 4 years old, 5 tops. At the time, Vi would be 11 to 12, Mylo and Claggor between 9 and 10, and Powder and Ekko 7 to 8.

In Act 1.1., she’d be around 8 to 9, with Vi being 15, Mylo and Claggor around 14, and Powder and Ekko 11-ish.

And after the time jump, Luna will be 15 to 16 years old.

Thanks for asking!🫶🏻

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

Hi! I don’t know if you take requests but I have an idea for your OC luna from the last drop in The Last Drop. Feel completely free to ignore this but it would be interesting to see an interaction between Silco and Luna, whether it’s a small introduction after him and Vander have split up or if it’s during the time Silco and Vander are still friends. Again feel free to ignore this! I love your story so far! Keep up the good work! 😊

H!!! I do take requests! 🫶🏻

I’ve really been giving this fic a thought and although it maybe isn’t what you envisioned I think I did it justice! ☺️ You can find it here!

Thanks for reading and the kind message!💘

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

To protect something precious one must be willing to do anything

A dad!Vander fic (with my og character, Luna, Vander's fifth adopted child)

Set before Act 1.1.

Masterlist: there you go

Disclaimer: english ain't my first language folks

The Last Drop was quieter than usual, the low hum of conversations and clinking glasses a dull echo of its typical rowdy energy. The tension in the Undercity was rising. Whispers of the enforcers' movements trickled through the streets like oil ready to catch fire. Vander had kept an eye on it all, but tonight, he just wanted the evening to end quietly.

Luna had begged to stay upstairs with him while he tidied up the bar. Powder had already gone to bed, and Vi had promised to keep the others in line, though her tone suggested otherwise.

“Can I help, Vander?” Luna asked, perched on a barstool far too big for her.

“You can sit there and keep me company,” Vander replied with a faint smile, wiping down a mug. “That’s a big enough job for now, Lu.”

She nodded solemnly, as though she'd been given an important task, and began doodling on a scrap piece of paper. For a while, everything felt normal.

Then the front doors creaked open.

Vander looked up sharply, his hand stilling. The figure that slipped through the doorway was unmistakable: his dark coat swept the floor, and his mismatched eyes gleamed even in the dim light.

A man both respected and feared in the undercity. Whispers of his name were only heard in the darkest of corners. To Vander, he had once been a friend. Not anymore.

Silco.

Luna looked up from her paper, frowning curiously at the stranger. Vander’s chest tightened, but his voice stayed calm as he said, “I thought rats knew to stay out of my bar.”

Silco didn’t respond immediately. He closed the door behind him, his steps measured as he approached the counter. He seemed to take in the room—its emptiness, its stillness—before his gaze landed on Luna.

The girl blinked at him, wide-eyed but not yet afraid. Silco tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t realize you’d started a daycare, Vander.”

“Leave her out of this,” Vander said curtly, stepping around the counter between Silco and Luna’s line of sight. “What do you want? You know very well you’re not welcomed here.” his right hand clenched, the scar on his arm burning as if it was still a fresh cut.

Silco smirked, his good eye narrowing. “Straight to business, then. Fair enough.” He leaned casually against a stool, unbothered by Vander’s looming figure. “I came to talk about the enforcers.”

Vander didn’t flinch, but his grip tightened on the rag in his hand. He turned to Luna then, picking her up without a word from the barstool and setting her on the ground. “Go downstairs, will you kiddo?”

“But you said I could stay with you while you cleaned up,” she pouted, looking up at him with her big eyes, ignoring the stranger Vander didn’t seem to like.

“I’m almost done anyways. Come on, I’ll be downstairs in a minute to tuck you in.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

She huffed, but obeyed, heading for the basement.

She was curious, though. Too curious.

Luna had started to learn to sneak around thanks to her siblings. And she was good at it. It also helped that she was a small thing, which made it easy to hide in tiny crooks and creaks invisible to anyone who wasn’t looking for her (and also, sometimes, even when they were looking).

She walked downstairs and opened the door to her and her sibling’s room, but she closed it again without entering, staying silent in front of it. When she didn’t see Vander peaking through the door upstairs to see if she was still there, she tiptoed her way back up, making sure to not step on any creaky floor board.

Hidden from view, standing right behind the doorframe to the bar, she could hear Vander’s and the man’s voices just right.

“She seems like a sweet thing,” she heard the stranger say, letting out a light chuckle. “Seems to be taking after you.”

“Cut the small talk, Silco,” Vander’s voice was hard, impatient, uninterested, in a way Luna had never heard him before. “What’s it with the enforcers that has made you come all the way here knowing you aren’t welcomed?”

“They’ve been sticking their noses deeper and deeper into the Undercity.” Silco’s tone was soft but deliberate, dripping with the same quiet menace as always. “Your people are starting to wonder what you’re going to do about it. And I am asking myself the same.”

Vander didn’t answer.

Silco smiled thinly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. “I’ve been hearing rumours. Word has it you’ve been awfully quiet, Vander. It makes me wonder… Do you have a plan? Or are you just hoping the enforcers’ interest will go away on its own?”

Vander met his gaze, unwavering. “I’m handling it.”

“Handling it?” Silco echoed, amused. He tapped two fingers on the bar thoughtfully. “And what does that mean? Shaking hands with the enforcers? Hoping they’ll play nice?”

Vander’s jaw tensed. He didn’t respond. He wouldn’t give Silco the satisfaction.

For a moment, the only sound was the slow drip of a leaky pipe in the corner.

Silco’s attention moved to the door Luna had disappeared into a few minutes ago, catching the glimpse of a loose strand of hair peeking from behind the doorframe. He didn’t say anything, but his expression softened, though the shift was more unsettling than reassuring.

“You’ve built quite the family here,” Silco said, his voice quieter. “But you can’t shield them forever, Vander. The world doesn’t care how tightly you hold onto them. It will take them anyway.”

Vander’s eyes flashed with anger. “Stay away from my family.”

Silco straightened, smoothing out his coat with a casual gesture. “Of course. You’ve made yourself clear.” His lips curled into a faint, sardonic smile. “But let me give you a warning, old friend: the enforcers won’t play by your rules. If you’ve struck some foolish deal to keep them at bay… well, it won’t last. It never does. I, on the other hand, plan to handle them keeping the upper hand. I suggest, solely because of the old friendship that connects us, that you do the same if you want to keep your… family, safe.”

Before Vander could reply, Silco turned on his heel, striding toward the door. He paused with his hand on the handle and glanced back.

“To protect something precious,” he said softly, almost as though to himself, “one must be willing to do anything.”

Then he left, the door clicking shut behind him.

Vander let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

Luna ran down the stairs as quickly and silently as she could, opening and closing the door to the basement room the same way. She ran to her cot, seeing her siblings already deep in sleep, and she waited for Vander.

He didn’t take long, as he had promised.

Vander looked more tired than a few minutes ago, but he managed to smile at her softly, making the little wrinkles by his eyes deeper. He sat down next to Luna after pulling her covers all the way up to her neck, and he smoothed her hair down the side of her head, resting his warm palm on her cheek.

“Ready to sleep?”

Her voice broke the silence, answering with another question “Who was that man?”

Vander forced his face into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “No one you need to worry about, Lu.”

She frowned. “He looked scary.”

Vander huffed a quiet laugh, though it held no humor. “He wants to look that way, trust me. It’s how he gets what he wants.” His thumb brushed softly against her cheek as if trying to wipe away the thought of Silco entirely. “But you don’t need to worry about him. It’s late, and you’re safe here.”

“Promise?” Luna whispered, the word small but heavy, searching his face for certainty.

Vander paused. For a moment, he seemed far away, as though the weight of the entire Undercity hung around his shoulders. But then his hand lingered a little longer on her face, warm and solid, grounding her as much as himself.

“Promise,” he said at last, his voice steady, quiet, true.

Luna let out a tiny sigh, her body relaxing back into the cot. Vander stayed with her for a little while longer, watching her eyelids droop, her breathing slow. When he was sure she’d fallen asleep, he rose to his feet with the practiced quiet of a man who had tucked in children a thousand times before.

He stood at the door for a moment, looking back. The sight of her and the others—Luna curled into the tiny space they’d carved out of a brutal world, Vi and Powder cuddling as they slept, Mylo’s soft snores and even Claggor’s feet starting to dangle out of the bed—filled him with a fierce, wordless resolve.

Silco’s wrong, he thought, clenching his scarred hand at his side. I can keep them safe. I will. He had made a deal with Grayson. He’d keep the undercity under control, and she’d help keep the trouble far. He’d stick to the deal, even if it went against the morals he had defended most, if not all of his life, for the five kids sleeping in that basement he was standing it. He had to.

Vander stepped back into the hallway, ignoring the faint echo of Silco’s words on him like a shadow. The world doesn’t care how tightly you hold onto them.

He’d just have to make sure to hold onto them tight enough.

Taglist: @keira7664@starryhiraeth @eternallyvenus

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

I’ll still fight every day. For them.

A dad!Vander fic (with my og character, Luna, Vander's fifth adopted child)

Set around Act 1.1.

Masterlist: there you go

Disclaimer: english ain't my first language folks

Vander's dreams were a fragmented chaos of faces, laughter, and screams.

He saw Vi’s fiery determination while he taught her to fight, Powder’s infectious giggle as she sat on a barstool in front of him sipping on a cup of juice, Mylo’s smirk as he showed him his most recent prize from a trip to Piltover, Claggor’s steady gaze on him as he taught him how to repair an engine, and Luna’s sleepy smile as she told him goodnight after tucking her in.

But then the visions darkened. Their faces twisted with fear, shadows consumed them, and he could do nothing but watch as the world he built for them crumbled.

He woke drenched in sweat, his chest heaving. The room around him was dim, lit only by the eerie, flickering glow of violet vials lined on shelves. The faint hum of machinery buzzed in the background, making his head throb. His body felt heavy, his limbs unfamiliar, as if something unnatural coursed through them.

Panic set in when the memories started piecing themselves together. The bridge. Silco. The fight. The fire. His body hitting the ground.

I should be dead.

He tried to sit up but groaned in pain, the movement sending shocks through his nerves. Restraints dug into his wrists. He looked down and saw faint, glowing veins snaking up his forearms.

“What is this?” he muttered, his voice hoarse.

Wait.

Where were his girls? Were they safe? Vi, Powder, Luna. After what had happened to Mylo and Claggor… His heart ached with familiar yet still fierce pain.

He had to get out of there and get to his girls.

The door creaked open. A man entered, his silhouette framed against the harsh light of the corridor behind him. The doctor approached, clipboard in hand, his one visible eye gleaming with calculated curiosity.

“You’re awake,” Vander recognized him. It was Singed, his tone clinical, devoid of empathy.

“What…” Vander’s voice cracked. “What have you done to me?”

Singed tilted his head, observing him like a specimen under a microscope. “You were dying. No—dead. But I salvaged you. You’re… a unique case.”

Vander yanked against the restraints, fury and desperation surging through him. “Salvaged? What for? Where are my kids? What happened to them?” His voice rose with each word, the weight of his body no longer the only thing crushing him.

Singed didn’t flinch. “You were exposed to a significant dose of Shimmer during your final moments. Your body responded… unusually well. I’ve continued the process. For science, of course.”

“For science?” Vander growled. His voice was raw, a mix of anger and fear. “I’m not some experiment, and I sure as hell didn’t ask for this. Tell me where my kids are!”

Singed’s expression didn’t change, but there was a pause, a hesitation, as if weighing how much to reveal. “Your children… I do not know their current whereabouts. The boy with the goggles and the thin one—they didn’t survive.”

Mylo. Claggor. He’d seen it in his dreams, but hearing it confirmed sent a bolt of grief and guilt through him. He had failed them. He had failed all of them.

“I cannot say about the others,” added Singed. “I am not privy to their fates. My concerns lie here, with you.”

Vander snarled, yanking at the restraints again, adrenaline overriding the pain. “I don’t care about your damn concerns! You stole me away, turned me into… into this! And for what? Some twisted experiment?”

Singed stepped closer, unbothered by Vander’s outburst. “You are valuable. An anomaly. I am seeking answers—ones that could change the very fabric of life and death. If successful, the knowledge gained here could bring back those you’ve lost… perhaps even your children.”

Vander glared at him, the weight of those words sinking in, fuelling his anger.

“And if you fail?” he asked bitterly.

Singed’s gaze was steady, almost cold. “Then you are merely another step closer to understanding.”

The weight of despair was unbearable. Vander slumped back against the bed, his body trembling from exhaustion and the war raging in his mind. He didn’t know what hurt more: the knowledge that he was alive while his boys were gone or the uncertainty of whether the girls he’d sworn to protect were safe.

“I’ll find them,” he murmured, more to himself than to Singed. “I’ll get out of here… And I’ll find my girls.”

Singed raised a brow, his expression unreadable. “You will not. I saved you from death to serve a greater purpose. Your path and theirs have diverted, and will not cross anymore.”

The words were a dagger in Vander’s chest, but he refused to let the despair consume him. He gritted his teeth, glaring at the doctor with every ounce of defiance he could muster.

“What purpose can be greater than the one of a man trying to get back to his daughters?” he growled.

“The one of a father trying to safe his daughter from death.” Singed answered, coldly.

He moved then quick, injecting something in Vander’s arm that put him to sleep after a few seconds of blurry visions and distant echoes of the sounds around him.

The fevered haze of Shimmer and whatever Singed had put in his veins brought dreams that felt too vivid to be mere imagination. Vander saw Vi first, standing tall and proud in the Last Drop, her fists clenched and a determined fire in her eyes. “You’re supposed to protect us!” she yelled, her voice cracking. Behind her, the shadows of Mylo and Claggor faded into smoke, their faces etched with betrayal.

Then came Powder, her blue hair streaked with soot, tears running down her cheeks as she clutched a shattered monkey toy. “You left us,” she whimpered. “Why didn’t you stop them?”

The dreams shifted to Luna. She was sitting alone in the basement, looking tiny than ever, hugging her knees as the rain poured outside. Her small voice broke through the sound of the storm: “I waited for you,” she said, in a small voice, tears streaming from her eyes, scared from the thunder outside he couldn’t protect her from anymore. “Why didn’t you come back?”

Each dream ended the same way: Vander reaching for them, only for their faces to dissolve into the blackness, leaving him screaming into the void.

He woke up screaming, alone in the same room.

It went on like that forever. At least it felt as if. Vander didn’t regain full consciousness until after a few more rounds of nightmares and memories combined that ended with him in tears wanting, no, needing to reach out to his children but being unable to do so.

Singed was working on a table close by when Vander spoke up:

“You said you’re doing this for your daughter,” he began, his voice rough, weak.

Singed didn’t turn around, but he answered. “And if I am?”

Vander’s eyes were fixed on him as he kept on talking, breathing heavily. “Why me? What makes me worth the trouble?”

Singed paused his movements, as if debating how much to reveal. “Your body showed resilience to Shimmer that I’ve never seen before. You are… an anomaly. If I can replicate what you are, I might be able to achieve something far greater. To bring her back.”

Vander narrowed his eyes. “Your daughter… she’s gone?”

“Yes,” Singed said bluntly. “But not forever. I will find a way.”

“And you think turning me into some monster is the answer?” Vander snapped. “She wouldn’t want this—none of them would!”

Singed tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “You assume to know what a daughter would want, what lengths she would forgive. But tell me this: what wouldn’t you do to see your daughters again?”

Vander froze. The question hit too close to home, stirring the buried storm of guilt and desperation in his chest. He closed his eyes, seeing Vi, Powder, and Luna’s faces in his mind, their smiles, hearing their laughs resonating inside his head. The only thing keeping his sanity intact, for now.

“I’d do anything,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But not like this.”

Singed regarded him with something almost akin to pity. “Then you lack the resolve necessary to truly save them.”

Vander’s eyes snapped open, blazing with fury. “No. I have the resolve to fight for them. To protect them. That’s what a father does. And you? You’re just a coward hiding behind your experiments.”

For the first time, Singed’s mask slipped, the words striking a nerve. But he said nothing, merely turning to leave the room.

When Singed began experimenting more on Vander, the dreams became more vivid, but also more horrid.

He was back in the Last Drop, the bar lively but not chaotic, warm light spilling across the wooden floors. Vi sat on the counter, swinging her legs as she polished one of the mugs with a towel too large for her hands.

“You’re doing it wrong,” Vander teased, leaning against the counter.

Vi stuck her tongue out at him. “Maybe you’re just too picky.”

Powder was on the floor nearby, constructing something out of scraps and gears she’d scavenged from the streets. “It’s gonna be a bird,” she said proudly, holding up a half-finished contraption. “It’ll flap its wings when it’s done!”

“Looks great, kiddo,” Vander said with a chuckle, ruffling her hair as he passed.

Luna was at the far end of the bar, perched on a stool much too big for her, her feet dangling as she coloured on a piece of parchment. She looked up at him with a bright smile. “I made this for you, Daddy!” she exclaimed, holding up a crude but heartfelt drawing of their family—him, Vi, Powder, Claggor, Mylo, and herself.

Vander’s chest swelled with pride and love as he knelt beside her to take the drawing. “It’s perfect,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. He kissed her cheek and she giggled when his beard scratched her soft skin. “Best thing I’ve ever seen.”

But the scene shifted then. He was still in the same place, but he found himself in a broken version of the Last Drop, its walls crumbling and its windows shattered. The bar was filled with shadows that whispered accusations, their words cutting deeper than any blade.

“You failed them,” one shadow hissed.

“Why did you get to live?” another demanded, its voice sharp and venomous.

The shadows formed into figures—Mylo and Claggor, standing together with their backs turned to him. “We trusted you,” Mylo said, his voice cracking. “And you failed.”

Claggor didn’t speak. He simply turned to face Vander, his expression empty but his eyes filled with betrayal.

Then, as if the dream couldn’t get worse, the scene shifted again. The girls were standing in a row: Vi with bloodied knuckles, Powder clutching a ticking bomb, and Luna holding a stuffed animal that dripped with crimson. Their faces were pale, their eyes hollow.

“Why couldn’t you save us?” they said in unison, their voices echoing like a dreadful chorus.

When Vander woke from these dreams, the reality of his imprisonment felt almost like a relief. Almost.

One day, after a particularly grueling session, Vander slumped in the corner of his cell, his breath ragged. Singed entered, carrying a tray of vials and syringes.

“Your resistance is remarkable,” Singed said, almost admiringly.

“I don’t care about your experiments,” Vander growled, his voice hoarse.

Singed ignored him, setting down the tray and examining Vander with calculating eyes. “The dreams—tell me about them.”

Vander’s eyes snapped to the doctor. “What do you know about my dreams?”

“The Shimmer has… side effects,” Singed admitted, his tone clinical. “It digs into the mind, pulls out memories, fears, desires. I’ve observed similar reactions in others. But your dreams—they’re different, aren’t they? More… vivid?”

Vander didn’t answer. He didn’t trust Singed enough to share the torment in his mind, the faces of his children haunting him every time he closed his eyes.

“You see them, don’t you?” Singed pressed. “Your children?”

Vander’s fists clenched. “Don’t you dare talk about them.��

Singed tilted his head, studying him like one of his experiments. “The mind is a powerful thing. It can motivate or destroy. You’d do well to remember that.”

Vander glared at him, his jaw tight. “You think this will break me?”

“I don’t need to break you,” Singed replied, his voice unnervingly calm. “I need to understand you. And in doing so, I will save her.”

The mention of Singed’s daughter brought a flicker of pity to Vander’s rage, but it didn’t soften his resolve.

“You’re wrong,” Vander said, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. “You can’t save anyone like this. And you won’t stop me from saving mine. You do all of this to save your daughter, but know that I will not stop fighting to get away from you to get back to my daughters as well.”

Singed paused, the faintest shadow of something—recognition, perhaps?—flickering across his face. He nodded slowly. “Very well. I know what a man is capable of doing for his child. There is… Nothing, so undoing, as a daughter.”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper as cold as the room itself. “But know this: it will not bring you anything.”

Vander’s jaw tightened. He sat up as much as the restraints allowed, his voice steady and resolute. “I’ll still fight every day. For them.”

“When I’m done with you,” said Singed, his voice cold as ever, clinical, void of any human emotion. “You won’t even remember them.”

Taglist: @keira7664 @starryhiraeth

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

We're having a game night!

A dad!Vander fic (with my og character, Luna, Vander's fifth adopted child)

Set before Act 1.1.

Masterlist: there you go

Disclaimer: english ain't my first language folks

The storm hit with a vengeance, the roar of thunder and hammering rain filling the dimly lit walls of The Last Drop. Luna sat perched on a stool near the bar, her small legs swinging back and forth as she watched Vander clean up for the night. Each crash of thunder made her flinch, but she stayed quiet, clutching a chipped mug of water he had handed her earlier.

The others had already drifted off one by one, descending into the basement to their makeshift sleeping quarters. Mylo had been the first one to head down, followed by Claggor, and soon after the girls. Powder had given Luna a quick hug before heading down, while Vi made sure to remind Vander not to let Luna stay up too late, knowing he had more than once carried her down already knocked out for the night.

“You’re gonna fall asleep on that stool if you’re not careful,” Vander teased gently as he wiped down the counter.

“No, I won’t,” Luna said stubbornly, though her eyelids were already drooping.

“Uh-huh,” he said, glancing at her with a faint smile.

Minutes turned into an hour as Vander moved through his closing routine, tidying bottles and wiping surfaces. All the while, Luna stayed rooted to her spot, her hands gripping the edge of the bar tightly whenever the thunder cracked too loudly.

When Vander was finally done and he turned to her and said, “Alright, Lu, time for bed,” her response caught him off guard.

“No,” she said firmly, crossing her arms.

Vander blinked. “No?”

She shook her head.

“Luna, it’s late. You need to sleep,” he said, his tone growing more serious.

“I don’t want to go,” she said, her voice quivering just slightly.

Thinking it was a tantrum, Vander sighed and placed his hands on his hips. “Lu, I’m not gonna argue with you. Get down from there and head to bed. Now.”

Instead of moving, Luna’s face crumpled, and tears spilled down her cheeks. She buried her face in her hands, her small shoulders shaking.

“Hey, hey,” Vander said quickly, his sternness melting away as he rounded the bar. Even on a barstool she was so much smaller than him, he had to crouch down to be in front of her “What’s this about, huh?”

She sniffled, her voice muffled as she finally spoke. “The thunder’s too loud,” she admitted. “I don’t like it. It’s too scary.”

Vander’s heart twisted. He placed a large, calloused hand on her back, rubbing gentle circles. “Ah, Lu, you should’ve said something,” he murmured.

She peeked up at him, her eyes red and watery. “Can I stay with you?”

Vander hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Alright, honey. Let’s go.”

He scooped her up easily, and Luna clung to him as he carried her to the small room he kept upstairs above the bar. It was sparsely furnished, just a bed, a table, and a single chair, but the walls had a few pictures hung around, of Vander when he was younger with people Luna didn’t know, but also a few ones with her siblings and herself, recently added.

Vander settled her on the bed and tucked her under the thick blanket before kicking off his boots and lying down beside her on his bed.

“Better?” he asked, his voice soft.

Luna nodded, her tiny frame pressing close to his.

“Alright,” he said, wrapping an arm around her. “You get some sleep. Storm’ll be gone by morning.”

“Promise?” she whispered, her voice heavy with exhaustion.

“Promise,” Vander said, his tone warm and steady, kissing her forehead.

Within minutes, she was asleep, her breathing slow and even. Vander stayed awake a while longer, listening to the storm rage outside and making a mental note to prepare for the next one.

It didn’t take long for that to happen. The next storm came a week later, the rain falling just as strong and steady as the last time. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a low growl that promised a long and stormy night ahead. The Undercity's streets, already shadowed and grim, grew quieter as people sought refuge indoors.

At The Last Drop, the storm had driven away most of the usual crowd. With barely any patrons braving the downpour, Vander decided to close early. The shutters were latched, and the bar was dimly lit with only a few flickering candles scattered around the room.

Vander leaned against the counter, watching Luna and Powder huddled together at a small table, Powder teaching her the latest machine she had gotten from Ekko from Benzo’s shop. Each crash of thunder made Luna flinch, though she tried to hide it.

“Alright, enough of this,” Vander muttered to himself.

He descended the creaky stairs to the basement, where the older kids were winding down for the evening. Vi was leaning against her cot, skimming an old book by candlelight, while Mylo was fiddling with some broken gadget he’d picked up earlier that day. Claggor was halfway through sharpening a knife on a whetstone, the rhythmic scraping sound filling the room.

“Alright, everyone, up here!” Vander called, clapping his hands together to get their attention.

Mylo looked up, confused. “What now? I was busy!”

“And you’ll live,” Vander shot back, moving toward the storage closet in the corner. He rummaged around for a moment before emerging with a stack of old board games, some of the boxes dented and faded with age.

Vi raised an eyebrow. “What’s with the games?”

“Luna doesn’t like storms,” Vander explained simply, his voice calm but insistent as he started back up the stairs. “Figured we’d make this one a little less scary.”

Vi closed her book with a small smile, catching on quickly. “Well, can’t say no to that.”

Claggor set his whetstone aside, looking intrigued. “What’re we playing?”

“Guess we’ll find out,” Vi said, nudging Mylo, who groaned in protest but reluctantly followed the others upstairs.

Back in the bar, Luna looked up as the group entered, her eyes lighting up slightly at the sight of all of them. Powder jumped to her feet, clapping her hands.

“What’s going on?” Powder asked excitedly.

“We’re having a game night!” Vander announced, setting the stack of boxes on the nearest table.

“Let’s get started,” Vi said, stepping in smoothly. She grabbed the top box and blew off the thin layer of dust, coughing a little. “Who wants to lose to me first?”

“You wish,” Mylo said, grabbing a chair and dragging it over.

Claggor chuckled, taking a seat next to Powder. “No cheating this time, Mylo.”

“I don’t cheat!” Mylo protested, glaring at Claggor, who simply raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

Vander took a seat at the head of the table, pulling Luna into his lap as the storm raged on outside. “Alright, what’s the game?”

The kids debated for a moment before settling on an old, battered version of Snaggletooth, a game that involved dice, cards, and a whole lot of bluffing. Laughter filled the room as they bickered over the rules, teased one another, and accused Mylo of cheating at least three times before they’d even finished the first round.

Luna, still nervous about the storm, leaned against Vander’s chest, but the sound of her sibling’s laughter and the steady warmth of Vander’s arms around her gradually melted away her fear.

Vander watched her carefully, noticing the way her tiny hands relaxed their grip on his shirt and the corners of her mouth curved into a faint smile, relaxing and forgetting about the storm outside.

taglist: @keira7664

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

He's so going to kill us

A dad!Vander fic (with my og character, Luna, Vander's fifth adopted child)

Set before Act 1.1.

Masterlist: there you go

Disclaimer: english ain't my first language folks

Luna tugged on Vi’s sleeve as they walked through the bustling streets of the Undercity. The air smelled of oil and damp stone, and the chatter of merchants hawking their wares mixed with the clanging of metal from nearby workshops. Claggor walked ahead of them, balancing a heavy crate of supplies on his shoulder like it was nothing.

“Vi,” Luna whispered, her small voice barely audible over the noise. “What’s that smell?”

Vi wrinkled her nose. “Probably the fish market. You’ll get used to it.”

Luna didn’t think she wanted to get used to it. She scrunched her face, glancing around at the maze of alleys and stalls. Everywhere she looked, there were unfamiliar faces, each one more intimidating than the last.

“There’s actually a fish place not so far from here Vander has taken us sometimes. It’s run by a guy named Jericho,” added Vi, clutching Luna’s hand in her own making her look up. “The smell’s actually good there. We can ask Vander to go again sometime soon.”

Luna wasn’t all too convinced about that idea, considering the bad smell her nose was still trying to ignore.

A big crowd approached them as they entered the bigger part of the market, full of different stands and stores with trinkets, animals and gadgets no one dared to ask about where they came from.

“Stay close,” Vi said firmly, gripping Luna’s hand. “Vander’ll kill me if we lose you.”

Claggor turned back and grinned. “He’d kill both of us.”

“I’m not gonna get lost,” Luna protested, puffing out her cheeks.

“Good,” Vi said, tightening her grip. “Because these streets? They’ll swallow you whole if you’re not careful,” she knew Luna had been on her own in those very same streets before she had come to live with them at The Last Drop, yet, being so small and young, Vi often wondered how long she could have had it made it before Vander had found her, or even worse, how longer she would’ve had resisted until something awful happened.

Luna nodded, knowing she was meant to listen to Vi. She was like her sister now, and most importantly, her older sister. Vander had told her to listen to them. She had to. He had given each one of them firm instructions before sending them out for an assignment that morning, and when she had begged to tag along Vi and Claggor he had been very clear about always listening to-

Hold up, what was that?

Luna’s curiosity got the better of her. As they passed a stall selling colourful trinkets, something shiny caught her eye—a small, intricately carved pendant that sparkled in the dim light. Without thinking, she let go of Vi’s hand and stepped closer to get a better look, calling out for Vi and Claggor to follow her, but her small voice wasn’t as loud as she had thought, and it was swallowed up by the noise of the market.

When she looked up, the crowd had shifted, and Vi and Claggor were nowhere to be seen. Panic gripped her chest as she turned in a circle, searching for their familiar faces among the sea of strangers.

“Vi?” she called, her voice trembling. “Claggor?”

Nobody answered.

Meanwhile, Vi realized the problem moments too late. She turned to say something to Luna and found only empty space where the little girl had been standing.

“Where’s Luna?” she asked, her voice sharp.

Claggor spun around, nearly dropping the crate. “What do you mean, ‘Where’s Luna’? She was right with you!”

“She’s gone!” Vi snapped, scanning the street.

“Damn it,” Claggor muttered, setting the crate down and pushing through the throng of people. “Luna! Luna!”

Vi’s heart raced as she followed him, shouting Luna’s name. The thought of returning to Vander without her made her stomach churn.

Luna, meanwhile, wandered down an alley, her small hands clutching her sleeves as fear set in. The shadows seemed longer here, the faces colder, their looks scarier.

“Excuse me,” she tried to ask a passerby, but the man ignored her, brushing past without so much as a glance. She knew she wasn’t meant to talk to strangers, but she only meant to ask about directions.

Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them back. Vander will find me, she thought to herself, hugging her arms tighter, he always does.

Vi and Claggor split up, weaving through the streets with growing urgency. Vi shoved past a group of loitering teens, ignoring their jeers. Claggor ducked into a shop, his voice booming as he asked if anyone had seen a little girl.

“Nothing,” he said when he rejoined Vi.

“She can’t have gone far,” Vi insisted, though doubt gnawed at her.

Meanwhile, the crowd jostled Luna, and she stumbled backward, bumping into someone.

“Hey, watch where—” the man began before his expression softened. “Luna?”

She looked up, and relief washed over her as she recognized Benzo.

“Benzo!” she cried, grabbing onto his legs.

“What are you doing out here alone?” he asked, his tone sharp but not unkind. He patted her head, trying to coax her to answer him.

“I… I got lost,” she admitted, her voice breaking.

Benzo sighed, crouching to her level. “Where are your siblings, huh? Surely Vander wouldn’t have let you out alone.”

“I-I was with Vi and Claggor and they told me to not walk away but-but I saw something and I… I didn’t mean to get lost,” she sniffled, clearly upset, her voice now shaky. “I’m sorry.”

Benzo’s expression softened, and he grabbed one of her hands reassuringly.

“It’s alright, kid. Nothing we can’t fix,” he smiled gently at her. “Come on. Let’s get you back to the Drop.”

At the same time, Vi and Claggor were frantic, having been shouting Luna’s name as they searched every alley and corner of the market.

“She can’t have gone far,” Vi said, though fear gnawed at her.

“She’s just a kid,” Claggor muttered. “What if—”

“Don’t say it,” Vi snapped. Just the thought of something happening to Luna… No, she couldn’t even think of that hypothetically. She had grown fond of Luna, despite her initial scepticism. She was like her sister now, most importantly, her little sister. Vi was the older one, she was meant to take care of her younger siblings. And she had failed.

“What do we do?”

“We have to tell Vander. He’ll know how to find her,” she really didn’t want him to know she had lost her sister, but there was no other way. They needed his help.

“He’s so going to kill us.”

They made their way back to The Last Drop as quickly as they could, bursting through the doors with their faces pale and breathing ragged. Vander, who had been talking to a group of regulars near the counter, turned sharply at the commotion.

“What’s all of this?” he asked, his deep voice already laced with suspicion. When they didn’t answer right away, he frowned suspiciously at them, “What happened?” he realized there was only two of them, when they had been three that morning when they walked out. A cold chill ran down his spine, “Where’s Luna?”

Vi froze, guilt written all over her face. Claggor scratched his neck, his shoulders tense. “We, uh” He cleared his throat. “We lost her.”

The room seemed to grow quieter, as though even the patrons knew better than to interrupt. Vander’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening as he folded his arms.

“You what?”

“It was an accident!” Vi blurted, her voice wavering but determined. “We were at the market, and she just—she wandered off! We’ve been looking everywhere—”

“And instead of looking for her to bring her home,” Vander interrupted, his tone low and dangerous, “you’re standing here telling me you lost her?”

“She couldn’t have gone far,” Claggor said quickly. “But we couldn’t find her. We needed help and—”

“I trusted you to keep your sister safe,” Vander snapped, his voice like a whip. “Do you know what could happen to a kid like her out there?”

Vi’s lower lip trembled, but she clenched her fists, refusing to let herself cry. “We’ll find her,” she said, her voice cracking. “We’ll fix it, Vander. I promise.”

Just as Vander opened his mouth to reply, the door creaked open behind them. All three of them turned, and there stood Benzo, holding a very sheepish Luna by the hand.

“Look what I found wandering the market, a little bird that got lost” Benzo announced, his tone wry but his eyes warm as they landed on Vander. “Thought you might be missing something.”

Vander exhaled sharply, his shoulders dropping as the tension left his body. “Luna,” he said, his voice softer but still stern. He stepped forward and scooped her up into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest. “What were you thinking?”

“I’m sorry,” Luna whispered, her arms wrapping around his neck. “I didn’t mean to. I just—there was something shiny, and I wanted to take a look at it but then I didn’t see Vi or Claggor anymore and then—” She buried her face in his shoulder, her small voice muffled. “I got scared.”

Vi and Claggor stood frozen, unsure whether to feel relief or brace for more of Vander’s anger.

Before Vander could say another word, Luna lifted her head and turned to look at them. “It wasn’t their fault,” she said earnestly, her eyes wide. “They told me to stay close, but I didn’t listen. I’m sorry, Vi. Sorry, Claggor.”

Vi blinked, startled, while Claggor let out a small encouraging smile to Luna, as if to tell her it was all okay.

Vander sighed, setting Luna down but keeping a firm hand on her shoulder. “We’ll talk more about this later,” he said, his voice heavy with both relief and lingering frustration. He turned his gaze to Vi and Claggor, his expression softening slightly. “You two—you did the right thing coming back here. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. I’m sorry, really, I was scared for her too,” they both nodded, knowing he meant it. “But next time, you keep your eyes on her. No excuses. You got it?”

“Yes, Vander,” they mumbled in unison.

Luna shuffled closer to her siblings; Claggor told her he was glad to have her back, however Vi remained silent. Luna walked over to Vi then and tugged on her sleeve. “I’m really sorry,” she said again, her voice small but sincere.

Vi crouched down and gave her a tight hug. “Just don’t scare us like that again, okay?” she hadn’t realized how frightened she really had been, not only about having to tell Vander they had lost her, but also for the actual idea of losing her. She breathed in deeply, grateful that Benzo had found her and brought her back to them.

“Okay,” Luna whispered, clutching her back tightly.

From his spot nearby, Benzo chuckled. “Seems like you’ve got a handful with this one, eh, Vander?”

“Yeah,” Vander muttered, his gaze softening as he ruffled Luna’s hair. “But she’s worth it.”

taglist: @keira7664

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

'Guess the tooth fairy knows her stuff

A dad!Vander fic (with my og character, Luna, Vander's fifth adopted child)

Masterlist: there you go

Disclaimer: english ain't my first language folks

Luna sat cross-legged on the worn rug in The Last Drop’s basement, her tongue poking curiously at the loose tooth wobbling in her mouth. Powder, who was drawing a complicated maze on a scrap of parchment, noticed and leaned in close.

“Is it gonna fall out?” Powder asked, her blue eyes wide with curiosity.

“I think so,” Luna replied, her words slightly garbled as she wiggled the tooth again. It was hanging by the tiniest thread, and the sensation was both exciting and a little scary. “But I don’t know when.”

“Want me to pull it out?” Powder offered, her hand already reaching forward.

“No!” Luna shrieked, scrambling back. “It’s not ready yet!”

Powder huffed dramatically but grinned. “Fine. But when it does, you know what happens, right?”

Luna tilted her head. “What happens?”

“The Tooth Fairy comes!” Powder whispered, her voice full of mystery. “She sneaks into your bed at night and leaves you a gift. Like, a coin, or candy, or… something cool.”

Luna frowned. “How does she get into the Undercity?”

Powder shrugged. “She’s magic! Duh. She probably flies down a pipe or something.”

Before Luna could ask any more questions, Vi strolled into the room, plopping onto the couch with a grin. “What’s this about fairies?” she asked.

“Luna’s gonna lose her first tooth!” Powder exclaimed, bouncing on her knees. “And the Tooth Fairy is totally gonna visit!”

Vi snorted. “Tooth Fairy? Who told you about that?”

“Claggor,” Powder said confidently.

Vi rolled her eyes. “Figures. Better don’t hold your breath. Last time I lost a tooth, the ‘fairy’ forgot to show up for three days.”

Powder’s face fell, and she crossed her arms stubbornly. “That’s because you lost it when a boy punched you in the face during a fight. Maybe the tooth fairy was thinking about if you deserved a prize or not.”

Vi raised an eyebrow. “Maybe, yeah,” she shrugged, but didn’t add anything to it. Instead, she gave Luna a wink. “If it falls out tonight, you better let us know.”

And she did. That evening, right after dinner, Luna’s tooth finally gave way. She gasped, and Powder clapped excitedly while Vi congratulated her alongside Claggor, and even Mylo. Luna immediately went running upstairs to the bar to show Vander.

“Look!”

She ran straight up to where he was, still working behind the counter serving that night’s patrons. She was holding up the tiny, bloody tooth in her small hand, with a new gap in her big smile.

“Well, would you look at that,” Vander smiled softly at her, stopping what he was doing to give her his full attention. “If it isn’t your first tooth, eh? You’re growing up, Lu.” He ruffled her hair affectionately before gently wiping her mouth with a damp cloth. “You gonna keep it?”

“I’m gonna put it under my pillow!” Luna declared. “Powder said that the tooth fairy would come visit while I sleep if I did so.”

“Did she now?”

Luna nodded. “I’m going to bed now so that the fairy can visit sooner!”

Vander chuckled, looking at her warmly. “Alright then, little one. Goodnight, in that case.”

“Night!”

Later in the evening, long after Luna and even the others had gone to bed, Claggor sneaked down the bunkbed and he tiptoed to Luna’s cot, careful not to wake her or the others, who were snoring softly only a few feet away.

In his hand, Claggor held a small metal charm he’d crafted earlier—a simple but pretty trinket in the shape of a firefly. He thought it was perfect for Luna. Carefully, he slid the tooth from under her pillow and replaced it with the charm.

“Are you seriously doing this?” Vi whispered from her bed, startling him slightly. Powder was still sleeping beside her, unaware of what has happening.

“Big, tough Claggor’s gone soft,” added Mylo from the bed above Vi, whispering as well. “Didn’t think you still believed in the Tooth Fairy.”

Claggor shot them both a glare but kept his voice low. “Shut it. I did this for Powder, and I’ll do it for Luna too. It’s no big deal.”

Vi softened. “I think it’s sweet,” she said, smirking at Claggor. “But don’t think we won’t tease you about it tomorrow.”

“Whatever,” Claggor muttered, though a small smile crept onto his face as he went back to bed.

The next morning, Luna’s delighted squeal woke everyone.

“She came! She came!” Luna shouted, holding up the charm as if it was a treasure. “The Tooth Fairy came!”

Powder gasped, scrambling over to see. “What’d you get? Oh wow, it’s so pretty!” she turned to the others, who were still yawning waking up properly. “See? Told you she’d come,” she added with pride.

They didn’t waste any time and they went straight to show Vander, who was already sipping on his morning coffee waiting for them to eat breakfast. He chuckled when Luna bounded over to show him her prize.

“Well, look at that,” he said, inspecting the charm with mock seriousness. “'Guess that Tooth Fairy knows her stuff.”

Luna grinned up at him, her gap-toothed smile brighter than ever.

From the doorway, Claggor watched the scene quietly, feeling a swell of joy. Vi caught his eye and smirked. Mylo just whispered, “Softie.” Claggor ignored them.

Vander looked over at him then, nodding silently with a small knowing smile. Claggor smiled back. Seeing Luna so happy made it all worth it.

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

It's nice to make new friends

A dad!Vander fic (with my og character, Luna, Vander's fifth adopted child)

Masterlist: there you go

Disclaimer: english ain't my first language folks

It was a rare sunny day in the Lanes, the kind of day when kids ran wild through the streets, taking advantage of the light and warmth before Zaun’s ever-present smog rolled back in. Vander had sent Vi, Mylo, and Claggor off on some errand, at which they excitedly leaped out of the bar to run around the streets freely, while he had to take care of an errands with some suppliers, leaving Powder and Luna in the care of Benzo, who’d offered to watch them while Vander worked.

Luna had met Benzo a few times at The Last Drop during the first few weeks she began living with Vander. He was a familiar face in the bustling bar, his voice carrying easily over the noise as he greeted Vander or exchanged quick words with patrons. The first time she saw him, she had been perched on one of the barstools, swinging her legs nervously as Vander prepared her a midday snack in the back. Benzo had walked in, his coat slightly dusty from the streets, and immediately noticed her sitting there, small and quiet.

“And who are you?” Benzo had asked with a warm smile, leaning on the bar close to her.

Luna froze, unsure if she should answer; Vander had told her to not talk to strangers or anyone he or the kids didn’t know. Luckily Vander appeared from the kitchen just then, a plate in his hands, and gave her a reassuring nod.

“This here’s Luna,” Vander said, setting the plate down in front of her. “She’s staying with us now.”

Benzo’s expression softened as he studied her. “Luna, huh? That’s a good name. I’m Benzo.”

She offered a timid nod in response, her hands clutching the edge of the stool. Something about the way he spoke—kind, but not overly sweet, like other adults would do—made her relax just a little.

Benzo dropped by several times, sometimes for business with Vander and other times just to have a drink and a chat with his friend. He always made a point to greet her, his voice warm and friendly, never rushing her to talk more than she was ready for.

“You settling in all right?” he asked her one evening, noticing how she lingered near the door to the back room while the older kids laughed and played a rowdy game at one of the tables.

She nodded, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “It’s… loud sometimes.”

Benzo chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yeah, they’ve got energy, those ones. But you’ll get used to it. They’re a good bunch.” She liked that he didn’t push her to join in if she wasn’t ready. He didn’t treat her like a child who needed coaxing, but rather like someone who just needed a little space. “I’ve got a little rascal at my shop too. Ekko. He’s a good kid. Maybe you can come meet him some day. The others like him, I’m sure you’ll do too.”

As she had gotten to trust Benzo, and Vander trusted him too, he dropped Powder and Luna off at his shop for the day. Benzo’s place was cluttered with gadgets, tools, and trinkets, the kind of place that seemed to breathe chaos but held endless wonder for curious kids. Luna sat cross-legged on the floor, tinkering with a broken wind-up toy Benzo had handed her to keep her occupied. Powder, as usual, was bouncing from one corner of the shop to the next, poking at anything that caught her eye.

The shop bell jingled, and a boy about Powder’s age stepped inside. His brown skin glowed in the sunlight, and his bright white hair made him stand out like a star against Zaun’s gloom. He wore patched clothes and carried a satchel slung over one shoulder.

“Ekko,” Benzo greeted with a nod.

“Got the parts you asked for,” the boy replied cheerfully, dropping the satchel onto the counter. His voice was confident, and he moved with the ease of someone who knew the shop well.

Powder perked up immediately, bounding over to him. “Ekko!” she said, grinning wide. “You’re back! Did you bring anything cool?”

Ekko smirked, pulling a few gears and shiny bits from his bag. “Always got something cool for you.”

Luna watched from her spot on the floor, her hands pausing on the toy she was fixing. She wasn’t used to people outside her family—she still felt shy around strangers, even ones Powder seemed to know. She remembered the boy’s name, though: Ekko. It was the boy Benzo had told her about, the one that lived with him.

“Who’s that?” Ekko asked, noticing her for the first time.

“That’s Luna,” Powder said, her tone cheerful but matter-of-fact. “She’s our sister. Well, kinda. Vander took her in.”

Luna shrank a little under Ekko’s curious gaze, but he walked over to her nonetheless, smiling.

“Hey,” he said, crouching down to her level. “You fixin’ that?” He gestured to the toy in her hands.

Luna nodded hesitantly. “It’s broken,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

“Lemme see,” Ekko said, holding out a hand. Luna hesitated for a moment before handing the toy to him. “I’m Ekko, by the way.”

“Luna.” she replied shyly

He turned it over in his hands, examining it carefully. “Yeah, this spring’s all bent outta shape. I got one in my bag that might fit.” He went back to his satchel, rummaging through it before pulling out a small, shiny spring.

Powder plopped down beside them, watching intently as Ekko worked. “You’re really good at that,” she said.

“Better than you,” Ekko teased, earning a playful shove from Powder.

Luna watched quietly, her eyes wide as Ekko skillfully replaced the spring and wound up the toy. It started moving again, its little legs kicking as it wobbled across the floor.

“There,” Ekko said, handing it back to her. “Good as new.”

Luna smiled shyly, her fingers curling around the toy. “Thank you,” she said softly.

“Don’t mention it,” Ekko replied with a grin. “You stick around long enough, I’ll teach you how to fix stuff like that yourself.”

Luna didn’t respond, but something in his easy smile and friendly tone put her at ease.

At first, Luna hadn’t said much, shyly staying close to Powder and clutching the hem of her dress as Ekko chatted. But as the day went on, she began to warm up; Ekko had a knack for breaking through her quiet reserve, his jokes and teasing drawing shy giggles from her that gradually grew louder. He made silly faces, exaggerated his stories, and even let her fiddle with a gadget he’d been tinkering with.

By the afternoon, Luna was comfortable enough to sit beside Ekko on the shop counter, her small legs swinging as she laughed at something he’d said. Powder had joined them, eagerly showing off a collection of shiny bits and bobbles Benzo had given her.

When Vander came to pick up Luna and Powder from the shop, he paused in the doorway, taking in the sight of Luna perched on the counter next to Ekko, the two of them giggling with Powder. A soft smile spread across Vander’s face as he crossed the room.

“What’s this, huh?” he asked, his voice warm and gruff. “You make a new friend, Lu?”

Luna nodded, her smile small but genuine. “This is Ekko,” she said, pointing to him proudly as if introducing someone important.

Ekko looked up at Vander, his usual confidence not faltering under the man’s towering presence. He straightened a little, though, the awe and respect in his wide eyes unmistakable. “Hey Vander!”

Vander tilted his head, his expression kind. “Hey yourself,” he replied, his deep voice rumbling with amusement as he reached out to ruffle Luna’s hair. “You treat my girls right, yeah?”

“Always,” Ekko said with a grin.

Vander’s gaze lingered on the kids for a beat longer, before moving to Benzo, who was a few feet away repairing an old machine, leaving the kids be for a few more minutes.

Later, as they left the shop, Vander slung a hand protectively around Luna’s and Powder’s shoulder, large enough to encompass nearly their entire backs. They leaned into his side, feeling the weight of his presence and the safety it brought. Luna carried the toy Benzo had given her with her, now repaired with the help of Ekko.

“Did you have fun today?” Vander said as they walked back to the bar.

“Yes!” answered Powder. “Can we come back soon?”

“We’ll see,” Vander chuckled. He turned his gaze to Luna. “Did you like Ekko?”

Luna nodded, her voice soft but certain. “He’s funny. And nice.”

“That’s good, Lu. It’s nice to make new friends.”

From that day forward, Ekko became a regular part of Luna’s world. He’d come over to The Last Drop alongside Benzo more often, and he began to join her, Powder, Mylo, Vi and Claggor in their games. She also kept the toy she had gotten that day, in a trunk by her cot, alongside the other little treasures she was starting to collect: a smooth round stone from Mylo that reminded him of the moon, a scrap of fabric Vi said might make a good headband someday, a bent nail Claggor had told her was “lucky”, and some crayons from Powder.

A little treasure from every sibling.