# CELEBRATING CHRISTMAS WITH BATBOYS! ── .✦ ( How You Celebrate Christmas With Different Batboys

# CELEBRATING CHRISTMAS WITH BATBOYS! ── .✦ ( how you celebrate Christmas with different batboys )

a/n: merry christmasss! I took a small christmas break so enjoyy this one this was supposed to be on drafts but tumblr deleted it for NO REASON. Anywayss enjoyyy, tags: (batboys x fem!reader)

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Dick is all about family and making you feel like part of his world. He drags you to Wayne Manor for the annual Christmas gathering.

“You’re not just meeting them you’re officially part of the chaos now.”

He insists on matching Christmas sweaters—preferably something embarrassing but endearing, like sweaters with reindeer antlers or Santa hats.

When you two decorate the tree, he’ll lift you up to put the star on top, even if you don’t need the help. “It’s tradition!”

Christmas morning involves him waking you up early with hot cocoa and a million kisses before unwrapping presents.

He loves going ice skating with you after all the festivities, holding your hand and showing off his acrobatic spins. “Bet you didn’t know I could do that, huh?”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Jason keeps things quiet and low-key, preferring a cozy Christmas at home over big gatherings. He’ll grumble if you insist on dragging him to the Manor but secretly enjoys seeing you happy.

“If Alfred offers you eggnog, don’t drink it. Trust me.”

He’s surprisingly thoughtful when it comes to gifts. He’ll give you something heartfelt, like a first-edition book or a piece of jewelry with a story behind it.

Jason will absolutely read you a Christmas story by the fireplace. He tries to act like it’s no big deal, but you catch him smiling when you lean against him to listen.

Baking Christmas cookies together turns into a disaster. He somehow burns half of them but insists on eating them anyway. “It’s the thought that counts, right?”

At night, he takes you on a walk through Gotham to see the Christmas lights, keeping you close to shield you from the cold and doing that sidewalk rule thingy.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Tim’s idea of a perfect Christmas is you, him, and a stack of holiday movies to binge-watch while wrapped in a blanket fort.

“We’re staying up all night. Sleep is for New Year’s Eve.”

He’s a last-minute shopper but somehow always gets you the perfect gift. He’ll blush when you open it and say, “I just… figured you’d like it.”

Decorating the tree is a fun and chaotic process because he tries to turn it into a competition. “Whoever hangs the most ornaments wins bragging rights for the year.”

He insists on taking a cute selfie in front of the tree to commemorate the moment, even if you’re in pajamas and your hair’s a mess.

You exchange heartfelt letters as part of your gift exchange, and his words always leave you teary-eyed.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Damian is a bit awkward about Christmas traditions at first, but he puts in effort because he knows how much it means to you.

He surprises you with a beautifully wrapped gift, probably something rare or unique that shows he knows you well. “I trust this meets your expectations.”

If you’re at Wayne Manor, he’ll grumble about the chaos but secretly enjoys seeing everyone together. He stays close to you the entire time.

You two spend part of the day at the animal shelter, helping out with the holiday rush. Seeing him with the animals melts your heart.

At home, he’ll insist on making hot cocoa for you. It’s surprisingly good, and he pretends not to notice your impressed look.

Late at night, he plays piano for you by the fire, begrudgingly admitting that Christmas music isn’t entirely awful.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Bruce makes sure Christmas is magical for you. The Manor is decked out with elegant decorations, and Alfred ensures everything is perfect.

He gives you a tour of the massive Christmas tree, explaining how each ornament has a story. “This one’s from the first Christmas Dick spent here. It’s… special.”

Bruce is incredibly thoughtful with gifts. He doesn’t just buy something expensive; he finds something meaningful that shows how much he knows and cares about you.

You spend part of the day helping him and Alfred deliver gifts to shelters and hospitals. It’s a tradition he holds close to his heart.

In quieter moments, he’ll hold you close by the fire, watching the snow fall outside. “Thank you for making this Christmas so much better.”

He surprises you with a slow dance to soft Christmas music, making you feel like you’re in a fairytale.

Since When?! Tim Drake x Reader

Batfam Finding Out Tim Has A Partner They Didn't Know? I'm Talking Like A Year At Most. 👀 He Wasn't

wc: 0.8 K summary: Batfam finds out Tim has a partner warnings: none, no y/n used a/n: have fun reading it, I tried my best to make it entertaining and not cringe at the same time. enjoy!!

Laying in Tim‘s arms after a stressful week always felt like heaven. It was safe and soft, wrapped up in his familiar scent and getting to hug and squeeze him as much as you want. Usually, you don‘t worry about some of his family members walking in on you two cuddling up on his bed, and neither did you today. It was as normal as ever. However, when you heard some sounds from downstairs you tensed up. Tim soothed you by rubbing your back and whispering some reassurance to you. Internally, Tim was panicking.

Nothing ever is happening around the Manor, so why would something be happening now? Bruce should be in the batcave or somewhere else, Alfred is minding his business and there shouldn‘t be anyone else in the house… unless someone decided to pay a surprise visit.

»Hey, Timmy!«

The door swings open and his eldest brother appears in the doorframe, making you tense again and freeze in your partners arms. Dick also freezes and realises that this is a private moment he just interrupted. A private and intimate moment between his younger brother and, most likely his partner.

He straightens up and clears his throat, still standing in the doorframe for some reason.

»Uh, Tim? I… I should get going, huh?«

An almost awkward chuckle leaves Dick before he quickly closes the door with a slam and makes his way downstairs in a new speed record.

All you can hear is a yell from outside and the heavy footsteps of his brother. It‘s muffled but you can still hear it from Tim‘s room.

And a moments later, there are more sounds and more yells, and screams errup from outside the room.

Embarrassed, you sit up and lean off of Tim, looking both confused and slightly scared.

»Was this your brother?«

»You are about to meet the rest of them.«

He mutters back and also sits up with a sigh. You watch him run his hand through his hand tiredly, assuming this will get more chaotic than it already is.

»Is this your date?!«

The door literally slams open again with more force this time and there stands a blonde haired girl, excitement and curiousity written all over her face and body language.

Tim cringes beside you, his ears growing increasingly more red.

»That‘s… my partner.«

He admits and rubs the back of his neck, revealing your relationship with him. The jaw of the girl goes slack and she runs away to probably collect the rest of the siblings.

Moments later, the room is packed with all his siblings and they are too curious for their own good. Some teasing questions drop but also more personal questions aimed at you. You try your best to answer them all and won‘t let anyone get left out on accident.

The most asked question was probably, »Since when are you two even together?« and, »Why didn‘t you tell me?!« aimed at Tim.

He really tried to step in and explain it all calmly, but they didn‘t let him. It was amusing, seeing them interrupting each other and talking over each other some times, as well as straight up ignorimg Tim and only focusing on you. All of his siblings are pretty unique in their own way, everyone seems to be alike but also completely different at the same time.

One sticked out in particular and it was the youngest of them all. Damian, you soon found out after Tim insulted him for asking an annoying question.

He seems to be chill. Genuinely.

Even when it seems like he and Tim have a rocky relationship, he doesn‘t seem to be all that bad. Just a little teasing, but that‘s it.

The visits from now on where a little more entertaining. Every time you entered the manor, someone else than Tim greeted you. Once it was Alfred, then it was Stephanie, before Damian seemed to be the regular person who greets you when you step inside.

Surprisingly for Tim, you two get along pretty well. Tim has a theory that Damian is pretending to be all nice and friendly with you just to piss him off even more. It would make sense, but you don‘t believe in it.

»I am telling you, he does it on purpose! He is never friendly to anyone else except Alfred. Hell, he can get hissy with him too, sometimes!«

»Yeah, I don‘t believe you. He seems like a normal kid to me.«

You shrug casually and it makes Tim even more exhausted. Just… why does it have to be Damian? You could be besties with Dick or even Jason, but Damian is just another level of disrespect.

»Just say you don‘t love me anymore...«

Tim grumbles back after a moment and turns away from you on the bed, his back facing you now.

»Wait— no, I didn‘t mean it like that— «

a/n: In short, I think he would be offended at first and just even more annoyed than before around the Batfamily,but it'll settle eventually. Slowly, but eventually.

←MASTERLIST

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bbsaeko

1 month ago

codename: nightingale- auld acquaintances

reference: young justice season 1 episode 26

wc: 10.3k

synopsis: well shit gets real, conner yeets ng and robin, all while, ng reminds us why she’s the best, and the otp(s) get their shit (collectively and respectively) together

main masterlist

codename: nightingale series masterlist

a/n: I CANNOT BELIEVE I DID IT. you guys and your support have carried me though this process and the many YEARS it took me to get to this point. I have loved writing this since the beginning and I still do. Thank you for loving this story and the characters as much as I do. Enjoy!

Codename: Nightingale- Auld Acquaintances

MOUNT JUSTICE

December 31st, 03:12 EST

The cave was quiet as you zeta’d in. You’d only managed a few hours of sleep before you woke up in a fit. Ollie’s penthouse was silent though. And a quick check through the security system told you no one but you was home, in fact no one had come home, since you had. The team had made the decision to host a debrief at 0730, the next day, allowing everyone (mostly you) to recenter.

Given that the penthouse was empty, you decided to head to the cave early, if you were lucky, you’d be able to check the logs and see if Ollie, Dinah, and Roy were still up in the Watchtower or not.

“Recognized: Nightingale b-14,” the computer’s voice echoed in the darkness of the cave, and a couple of light flickered on in response.

“Computer, pull Zeta logs for the last 24 hours to the Watchtower, Nightingale Access delta echo charlie zero six,” you call out your code after a brief look assures that you’re the only one around.

“Access Denied,” the computer’s response throws you off guard as you pull up a screen, but you’re treated to a red screen.

“Under who’s authority?”

“Designation 0-2.”

“Batman?” you whisper the answer to yourself, but you can’t understand why. You’ve had access to the Watch Tower logs since Ollie and Dinah told you about the tower. You couldn’t get there without them, but you could access the logs to see who’s there currently, and you could usually see the calendar to know when Dinah and Ollie were scheduled.

“Computer, Canary Override: charlie romeo yankee seven eight nine three,” you attempt.

“Override denied.”

“What? Why?”

“Override denied per designation A-0-4.”

“A-0-4? Who is A-0-4?”

“Access Denied.”

“Oh, fuck’s sake!” you shout.

“Perhaps yelling at our computer system is not the best use of your limited time to rest?” a new voice interrupts.

You frown as you turn to look at Kaldur, “it won’t let me access the Watch Tower logs,” you huff, pointing at the red message glaring back at you.

“Why are you looking to access the logs?” he asks, brows furrowed as he looks between you and the screen.

“No one came home last night, K. I needed- I wanted- I just need to talk to Dinah, after everything that happened? I just wanted Dinah or Ollie, and they weren’t home. I passed out on the couch waiting, and when I woke up, they still hadn’t come back. I just wanted to see if they were still there,” you explain.

Kaldur’s lips pull into a frown, “They may be pre-occupied, the League, as you know, better than most, can be demanding, even at the best of times, and with the best of offers,” he states.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you defend, sensing his double meaning.

“You mean to tell me, my King is but a liar?” he challenges.

You’re quiet for a moment, Kaldur knew better than anyone, just how much you respected King Orin, “what did he say, exactly?”

“That you were also accepted into the League, that you were by far the best candidate off all those who were inducted, and yet, you were the only one who has said no to date,” he admits.

Your voice is quiet as you look at your friend, before you sigh, “how long have you known?”

“Since the meeting in November.”

“You didn’t say anything…”

“Neither did you, I decided it’d be best to follow your lead. You would have said something when you were ready to,” he shrugs.

“I’m not ready. I don’t feel ready, to be there, at that level,” you explain.

“You owe me no explanation, old friend. I have always had faith in your decisions, I won’t start questioning them now,” he assures you.

“Thanks, K,” you sigh. “Did he really say I was the best candidate?”

Kaldur smiles knowingly, and gently places a hand on your shoulder, “Come, M’gann stress baked cookies last night upon our arrival. We can indulge in those while we watch something?”

“Yes, please.”

You both got settled on the green sofas with a plate of cookies on the coffee table before you, and two mugs of tea. You were flipping through the available options when Kaldur spoke up again.

“I watched when you were barely in double digits trying to learn how to sort through your feelings and emotions,” he began and your grip on the mug tightened, while your hand with the remote dropped. “I watched as you turned it into a motivator, a strength. I watched how you learned to center yourself and be objective, even with only a decade beneath you. What you feel now, how you feel now, might be stronger, but you know how to utilize that, you know how to sort it. But until you can, until you’re able and ready, I hope you know I will be here to temper it. Just as I was before,” his tone is firm, as he expresses himself.

Slowly your gaze moves to him, and you take him in. This Kaldur was nearly an adult, he had given up the Conservatory, and trained with King Orin. This Kaldur taught you Atlantean, he helped you learn how to open yourself to magic.

“Kaldur…”

“We used to spar, do you remember? You were so full of rage and I remember the Queen sending me to spar with you one day. Garth and Tulla thought it would be unfair, they thought that with my age, my size, my magical and home advantage, you would be unable to compete. Fitting, that you knocked me down in mere minutes, despite being slowed by the water, despite being in a new place, despite your age and size. It was then that we all realized that you hold so much raw power, much more than you ever seemed to realize yourself.”

“You’d think you would’ve learned your lesson after Wally,” you scoff, sniffing to yourself and recalling the first time you met the boys.

“Oh, I did. Which is why I asked for you to be included in our studies, it’s why you studied with me, specifically, at the conservatory. You needed an outlet, then. So, you studied with us, trained with us, and despite not being naturally adept at magic, despite being out of your element, you held your own, you beat us several times. You mastered skills quicker than we ever did. You needed the distraction, to let go of all that you had been forced to carry at such a young age. I just hope you can trust me to help you with that again.”

“You were my first true friend, Kaldur’ahm. I had Roy, but he had always been introduced as a brother, you were a friend. You saw me, the realest version of me, rageful, angry, upset, scared, all of the negative emotions and you still decided that you would help me. You have always looked out for me, and you have always had my trust,” you’re resolute in your answer, no one had supported you through the hard parts like Kaldur had, because he was right. He had seen you at your angriest, he’d watched you fight as an outlet, seen you train yourself to the brink of exhaustion just to be free of the rage, even for a minute, and instead of telling you that you were wrong for your methods, he instead offered you new outlets, new opportunities. He lent you his strength and stability when you had none.

“I am honored to hold that title, my bird. We made a promise, you remember? A piece of our histories intertwined,” he states, smiling at you as he tugs a gold chain from under his shirt. Your gaze lingers on it for a moment before dropping to the ring you’d been subconsciously fidgeting with.

The ring that had allowed you to breathe underwater, the one that allowed you to live in Atlantis as if you were an Atlantean yourself, it was obviously special. But what made it so treasured was not the gift it gave, it was the who the gift was from. The ring had belonged to Kaldur’s mother. It had been she, who when King Orin asked for a volunteer, a home for the girl from the dry world, had stepped forward. She had opened her home, and had offered the ring to be enchanted for you. She became your advocate while you lived in Atlantis, she treated you like you were one of her own. When it was finally time for you to return to your home, over a year later, she had told you to keep the ring, “I’d always hoped to pass this ring to a daughter,” she’d said, and you cried as you hugged her one last time.

On Kaldur’s first trip to visit you, merely a month after you’d gone back to Star City, you’d given him a chain. It had belonged to your father, and he’d worn it his whole life. Something that had been gifted to him when he was young from his father, who got it from his father before him. There’s a small pendent that hangs, your family’s crest, just like on your ring, they were a set technically.

You’d managed to enchant the item with your limited ability just in time for Kaldur’s first visit. “It’s meant to be passed to sons. I’d really like it if our histories were intwined. If I’m going to carry such a meaningful part of yours and your mom’s history, then I’d really like if you were to carry this of mine.” As far as you know, he hadn’t taken it off since you gave it to him almost three years ago.

The frown reappears on your lips as you look at the chain, and then at Kaldur. “Sometimes… I wish I was still there. It was easier living with you. There were no secret machinations, just you and me, and Garth and Tulla. I- I was hurting, I know that, but-”

“I understand,” he promises and you can’t help but let out a watery laugh.

“Of course you do. You’re Kaldur’ahm, no one ever seems to understand me as well as you do,” you smile.

“Rest, my friend, you have earned it. Our debrief with the Batman is 0730, however, I suspect he will be here early.”

“0700?” you ask.

“See you then,” he promises, tossing you a pillow and a blanket.

“Thanks, K, for everything,” you smiled, plopping back.

“Anytime, my friend, anytime.”

MOUNT JUSTICE December 31st, 06:30 EST

When you wake up again, it’s to Conner staring down at you with a quirked brow.

“Shit, Conner, why are you just staring at me like that?” you groan rubbing at your eyes.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you yet,” he admits, one hand rubbing at his neck.

“Yeah, I came earlier this morning. Canary and GA were at the Tower all night long. K, sat with me for a while.”

“Well, since you’re here… maybe we can talk about-”

“About your dad?” you ask, staring up at the roof of the cave.

“Don’t. Please don’t call him that. There's so much to figure out, but he’s not… not my dad,” you haven't turned back to him yet, but you can hear the tension in his tone.

“Genetic Donor then?” you offer turning back to him with a lazy smirk before adjusting yourself to lean against the arm of the sofa, tucking your legs beneath you.

“Genetic Donor works,” he sighs, sitting down in the now empty space on the sofa with you.

It’s silent for a minute as you both process, and then you're giggling. Conner’s eyes blow wide, as he stares at you. You cant help yourself though. Your giggles soon turn to full blown laughs, tears forming in your eyes.

“NG… nightingale… (y/n)!” Conners tone grew increasingly harried with each call to you.

“I’m sorry, I- I just… he killed my parents. I’m an orphan… be-because of Lex fucking Luthor, and he’s the only reason you're even here. He’s the reason I’m here!” you’re still laughing.

It has to be some sort of break, your mind finally deciding it's had enough.

That's when the laughs trail off, and you're left with tears.

You stop heaving and you take a deep breath, everything grows silent, you shut your eyes and center yourself. When you open your eyes you're staring at Conner again.

“I don't know how to fix this,” he admits.

You offer him a weak smile as your shoulders droop, “you can't,” you relent and Conner sags back into the sofa too.

“What now?” he asks.

“We be honest with each other, and the team. You and me, we're bonded by something now. I didn't realize it when we freed you from your pod, or when you helped us escape, but we are.”

“Allies against Lex?” he offers, holding out his hand.

“Allies against Lex,” you confirm, shaking his hand.

A not so innocent piece of you takes advantage and reads his emotions. You're reassured by the feelings of honesty, compassion, and belonging. You stare at Conner for a moment before letting go of his hand.

“What time is it?” you ask, stretching out a bit.

“You have about 15 until debrief.”

“Okay, thanks,” you sigh, standing up.

“I’ll see you in the cortex?” he asks, standing up as well.

“Yeah,” you confirm before heading to the locker room.

You're all standing in a line when Batman finally zetas in. You hadn’t had a chance to talk to Rob, or anyone else from the team about yesterday before he arrived.

He starts by asking for a rundown of events. Which we oblige. We explain everything from start to finish, the reveals, the truths, the plan for Santa Prisca. Everything leading up to the moment of Lex Luthor’s escape.

And when all of that is said and done you swallow your fears down hard before stepping forward, “Additionally, after defeating Bane with Robin and Zatanna, when I became aware of Luthor’s escape-”

“She was a little upset, which I’d argue is completely warranted considering everything we found out yesterday,” Wally cuts in, interrupting you before you can admit to how you lost control.

“Yes, but-” your second attempt is interrupted as well.

“Which is why we would like to request that the development of a case against Luthor be a Team priority,” Robin’s the one to cut in this time, proffering an official request on behalf of the team.

You risk a glance at the Team, and you don’t need M’gann’s abilities to understand what they're trying to say. So you shut up, and step back in line, waiting for Batman’s response to the debrief as well as the request.

He doesn't say anything for a minute, and then Kaldur is stepping in, “We have reason to feel proud of yesterday's victories. But one thing has not changed,” he alludes.

“Somehow, the bad guys are still getting intel about us,” Robin offers.

“Yeah, but at least we know none of us are the mole,” Wally counters.

For the first time that morning Batman finally speaks up, “That's correct,” he confirms, and he does so with serious conviction.

You want to be reassured by his confirmation, but something about the whole briefing was throwing you off, and it wasn't the discussion of Luthor.

“The mole,” he begins again, “was Red Arrow.”

Theres a brief silence as Roy’s image is displayed before everyone explodes.

“Roy?” Robin repeats disbelievingly.

“No way!” Wally’s voice had pitched up in his rebuttal.

You on the other hand, felt as the first of the strings holding you up snapped. Kaldur places a hand on your shoulder as if he knew, before turning back to the Dark Knight, “Batman, that cannot be. He was Green Arrow's protégé. We have all known him for years.”

“Unfortunately, the Roy Harper we have known for the last three years is another Project Cadmus clone,” Red Tornado explains.

You have to fight to catch your breath, this couldn’t be happening. You’d known Roy longer than that, you would've realized!

“We've learned the real Speedy was abducted and replaced soon after becoming Green Arrow's sidekick,” Batman explains and you finally step forward.

“No,” the seriousness of the word echoes in the cave. “I’ve known Roy longer than that, its been way more than three years! I would have noticed if CADMUS had substituted my own brother in front of me!” your argument is urgent, something had to be wrong.

“Unless they took a self fabricated opportunity to substitute the clone in a time of chaos. Where Speedy’s patrol partner and closest confidant was… gone?” Batman paints a picture but you're so hyper-focused on the Roy of it all you miss what he’s hinting to.

Theres a sharp intake of breath behind you, when you turn you see Kaldur, his eyes wide as he stares at you, “You came to Atlantis almost four years ago, you were gone from the surface world for over a year…” he reminds you, and you feel another string snap.

“No.”

“You said everyone seemed different, you were different, you were re-adjusting, it’d be reasonable to assume you wouldn't have noticed,” Kaldur’s tone is soft.

“No! Don't you understand?” you shout, turning to the team. “If that's true, it means the riot where they escaped was planned, they meant to cause a distraction, to throw us off guard so that they could switch-”

“Switch their Roy for ours,” Wally finishes, green eyes full of remorse on your behalf.

“And they waited almost year to put that into action, capitalizing off of the disarray of Star City's heroes,” Artemis tacks on.

“I would have noticed!” you argue, voice cracking as you try to reign in your emotions.

“The clone was pre-programmed with a drive to join the Justice League,” Batman intervenes, continuing to provide the information he had at hand. “Which is why he was so angry over any delays to his admission and why he refused to join the Team. This Roy Harper had no idea he was a clone or a traitor. And his subconscious programming drove him to become League-worthy. So he struck out on his own as Red Arrow.”

Your head was spinning, heart beating so fast and loud in your ears, it was a miracle you were still standing up. Something was wrong, something had to be wrong. Where was Dinah and Ollie? If this were true they’d come to tell you in person, they would. How could Ollie have not noticed? How could Dinah? Something had to be wrong.

“When he was finally admitted, his secondary programming kicked in and he attempted to betray the League to Vandal Savage.”

Your stomach flipped, Savage?

“Fortunately, I had already deduced Red Arrow was a clone. We were prepared.”

He had what?!

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” you whisper, Conner and Kaldur seem to be the the only two who hear you as they offer you mildly concerned expressions.

“Savage was subdued but Red Arrow escaped. He is now a fugitive, armed and dangerous,” Red Tornado continues.

“If you guys hadn't rescued me from CADMUS...” Conner trails off, eyes jumping from me to Kaldur.

“What happened to the real Roy?” Rob’s the one to voice the question and your heart stutters. Real Roy as if the one you'd known since your return wasn't real in some way. They were both real, at least they were to you.

“We don't know. He isn't at Cadmus. We have to face the possibility that the real Roy Harper is dead.”

You can't stop it. The bubble of grief, pain, and guilt. It bursts out of you, and of course Kaldur’s the one to catch it. His hand lands heavily on your shoulder, and you take deep breaths to center yourself. They don't know, you remind yourself. He could be alive and on ice somewhere, you repeat. You're forcing thoughts of hope down your own throat, hoping something will be digestible.

The last thing you're expecting is for Robin to grab ahold of your hand, not in front of Batman, and not after yesterday’s incident. Today, however, he doesn't waver or flinch back like he had the day before, so you can't tell if he can feel what you are right now. He simply snags your hand and tightens his grasp, until you're squeezing back.

“The clone Roy. The Team will find him,” Kaldur decides, his tone leaves little space.

Yet, somehow, Batman blows it wide open, “Negative. Red Arrow's a member of the Justice League now. Leave him to us.”

There's an argument forming on your lips, but a beep from his comms forces you to shut up.

“I'm needed on the Watchtower. Tornado, stay with the kids,” Batman decides and Robins hand slackens a bit. Kids? Since when did Batman call you kids?

The zeta lights up a second later, “Recognized, Batman, zero-two.”

You turn and run to the closest bathroom, you can hear as a few people shout after you, but you’re focused on making it to the bathroom. Your knees hit the ground hard as you all but collapse and then your heaving up the little that’s in your stomach. The protein bar and cookies that Conner had swiped from the kitchen for you, the orange juice Kaldur had poured for you, and the the blueberries that you’d scarfed down as well.

There’s a hand on your back, another keeping your hair back. “Wally?” your voice is a hoarse whisper.

“It’s me,” he affirms.

You nod and close your eyes for a second before you’re heaving again.

“I got you,” he promises, gently rubbing circles into your back.

You knew that, Wally’s always got your back. You know he probably didn’t hesitate to chase after to you, and that he most likely told everyone else to stay back. “I would have noticed,” you repeat.

“(Y/n)…”

“I should have noticed,” you say, sliding back, wiping at your mouth and leaning against the wall before turning to your friend.

“That’s not on you,” Wally argued.

“He’s my brother, my responsibility,” you shoot back.

“C’mon, let’s get you back before Rob starts panicking,” he huffs, pulling you up.

“I need to bru-” before you can finish Wally disappears and reappears with the toothbrush from your locker and a tube of toothpaste.

“Your teeth?” he asks cheekily.

You shake your head before quickly brushing your teeth. When you and Wally get back it’s to Kaldur’s awaiting stare. You offer a nod and he turns to face the rest of the team before looking back at you. He gives you a look signifying that it was your move this time, your call. Your stomach’s still unsettled but you swallow down your nerves and confusion before addressing the team.

“Clone or no clone, Red Arrow was one of us. For three years, he was ours. We will go after him, and we will figure this out, on our terms,” you decide.

You had planned to say more, but the sudden sounds from Red Tornado force you to stop. He freezes about a foot and a half away from you. Then, it's like he shut down. A sound as if he was being powered down, as the entire armor freezes, and his head tilts down.

“Tornado!” M’gann’s shout is slightly panicked.

“What happened?” Conner’s squinting.

“He's powered down,” Wally notes, tone slightly curious.

“All functions off-line,” Robins got a frown as well, analyzing Red Tornadoes stats on his wrist-computer.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” you note, staring between the stats as well as Tornado.

“Guys, I'm sensing a low-level mystic force at play. I don't know if it caused his shutdown, but… now that I think about it, I was getting the same buzz off Batman,” Zatanna admits, and your frown deepens.

“Batman,” Robin repeats. “He called us kids. He never does that.”

You step forward, analyzing every aspect of Tornado that you could, Wally comes up behind you and does the same.

“Look,” Wally’s call pulls your attention. When he straightens up you can see something in his hands, “One of those bio-tech chips we confiscated off Cheshire.”

“Nightingale is right, something is not right,” Kaldur agrees. “Robin, Kid, Zatanna, Rocket, see if you can get Tornado back online,” he directs. “The rest with me to find Ro... Red Arrow.”

The team pauses despite Kaldur’s clear instruction, and slowly they look from him, to each other, and then to you. You know why they paused, even Kaldur seems frozen as he stares at you. His decision would put you into the field, it would allow you to look for Roy, to be there when the Team finds him. Going with them would also separate you from both Wally and Dick.

You must’ve stayed silent too long, “Birdy,” Wally’s voice seemed to echo as he called out your name.

“Sorry,” you mutter, looking up. “Kaldur’s right, we.. uh, we have to split up.”

Wally and Dick look at each other and then they look at you.

“It’ll be okay,” you tell them. “I have to find him, my brother, my responsibility. Plus, who knows him better than me?”

No one has an answer and you nod.

“Suit up,” you confirm once more before the team nods, and disperses accordingly.

Wally, Dick, and Kaldur hang back. The three of them don’t speak, but they’re exchanging looks with each other and with yourself. No one says a word, but you offer a look of your own, and then roll your eyes at them. They pause and as always, Wally’s the first to crack. He throws his hands up looking at the two other boys and then gesturing to you. When that doesn’t get the response he wants, he throws his hands up again, waving them around.

You smile softly, hands coming to Wally’s shoulders. You offer a forced lopsided smile, tilting your head to the side. Wally responds by shaking his head, and you tighten your grip. You give him a pleading look, Wally’s face scrunches but he finally stares at you head on. You nod, gently and he sighs before nodding back.

You pass along a feeling of comfort, trying to make him understand that it’ll be okay.

“Yeah,” Wally confirms, before walking off.

Kaldur offers you a nod of his head and you nod back, before he walks toward the bioship.

You pause for a second and take a breath, and then there’s a hand on your shoulder and you’re hit with concern, longing, and a need to protect. You take another breath and turn to face Dick. He’s staring at you for a second, he opens his mouth and then closes it. In the end he stares at you making a closed fist with his right hand and rubs little clockwise circles on his chest. Your ASL was passable, a skill that Dinah and Ollie thought was important to learn for the streets, it seems like Bruce thought the same for Dick. Sorry, that’s what he was saying.

You know what he’s sorry for, you knew it the second he grabbed your hand. You take your right hand, rub a circle with your palm against your chest, and then with a flat hand swipe above your temple with your fingertips, I know.

He shakes his head, the barest of a smile on his lips.

You offer a soft smile at Dick one last time before walking towards the locker room. You’re quick to grab your gear, and you’re silent until your in the bioship, and in the air.

“Old friend,” Kaldur’s voice is soft inside the bioship, but you’re forced to pay attention to him regardless.

“I know what you’re going to say,” you sigh.

“Oh?”

“It’s not your fault, you couldn’t have known,” you trail off.

“Wrong,” Artemis interrupts.

“Am I?”

“Yeah, we were all going to say it,” Conner scoffed.

You soften at that.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” you say sadly.

“How so?” M’gann’s voice is as soft as it has always been.

“Because I did know, a piece of me did, at least,” you tell them, gaze focusing on the clouds as you pass them by out the window.

“What?” Conner’s accusation cuts clear.

“I knew something was wrong. I could feel it. Ever since my abilities… he would get angry, over things he never used to. I just wrote it off, I- I knew it was wrong, it felt wrong, it didn’t feel like natural anger, it was sudden, it was triggered but not by anything I could see. I should’ve said something, should’ve told someone,” you admit to them.

“You had no reason to suspect ulterior machinations,” Kaldur countered. “And though I know it bothers you, you both had grown apart since the foundation of the team.”

“Yeah,” you nod, fingers tracing over the ring dagger you’d been fidgeting with, “maybe.”

WASHINGTON, D.C. December 31st, 09:06 EST

“Logs indicate Red Arrow zeta'd to the Hall from the Watchtower,” Artemis stated, “But he could be anywhere by now, I also was only able to read the Hall logs, the Watchtower ones have been classified,” she adds on.

Kaldur clears his throat and turns to you expectantly, “So, I kind of didn’t appreciate how Roy tried to cut ties with everyone when he went solo, so I might’ve done some digging…” you trail, typing in new coordinates.

“Digging?” Conner asks.

“Okay, fine, investigating, and tailing, and the whole package pretty much. I found his main apartment, and discovered that he had installed equipment caches in several major cities,” you relent.

Conner coughs out, “stalker,” before clearing his throat, and you roll your eyes.

“One is here,” you continue as the bioship comes to a stop over an apartment complex.

“So… who’s going down, because, uh… not it,” Artemis muses weakly.

“I am,” you assure her.

“We are,” Kaldur corrects.

You nod and you both stand, you readjust your utility belt and pull a sweatshirt over the top of your suit, and then you pull your leather jacket on as well. It looks inconspicuous enough, at least as much as it would ever for your needs.

You and Kaldur drop to the roof, the access door was unlocked and you made your way down one floor. Roy had gotten an apartment on the top floor. When you come upon the door you crouch down with your lock picks, but between your latent anxiety, and the need to find Roy, your focus is slightly skewed.

“Perhaps, this is not the time for stealth?” Kaldur offers sagely.

You sigh and hang your head, hiding your lock pick tools in their place under your sleeve once again, “yeah.”

“Shall I? Or, would you like to?” he asks, gesturing to the door.

“I will,” you nod, standing back up.

You take a breath and stare at the door, and then with a heafty amount of force you kick down the door, you manage to put in enough force to rock the door off a hinge, and when it clears your vision you’re greeted by Roy holding up his bow with two arrows notched.

You notice the way his hand dips a second as he realizes it’s you he’s got an arrow focused on, “How’s it hanging, Roy?” you ask, but there’s a tough edge to your tone.

“You know, business as usual, Birdy,” he huffs out, but he retrains the arrows on you both.

“We have not come to harm nor apprehend you,” Kaldur cuts in. “But the Team requires answers-”

“Me first,” Roy interrupts. “Tell me something you haven’t told anyone else… tell me who broke your heart.”

Your jaw drops, “Roy!” your tone is more chastising than it was before. You know why it’s necessary, but it’s a low blow for Kaldur, a very low blow.

Kaldur places a hand on your shoulder, “Tula. The girl I loved chose my best friend Garth over me,” he answers, and you can hear the fight to keep his voice level. “While the man I consider by best friend on the surface world aims an arrow at my chest.”

Roy moves and suddenly both arrows are pointed at you.

“Roy-” Kaldur’s tone turned dangerous, but to your credit your eyes narrow and you tilt your chin up at him daringly.

“E.T. phone home,” Roy says, and you don’t need to touch Kaldur to feel the confusion rolling off of him.

There’s a pang in your heart, Roy, this Roy, was pulling on one of the earliest decisions you all made, code phrases. Methods to promise sanity, self, but also a warning when necessary. They were all movie phrases, famous enough to remember, but mismatched enough that no one would be able to guess. You’d both decided on them after you’d returned from Atlantis and Dinah let you return to patrol.

“Toto, I’ve got a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore,” you whisper.

Roy’s entire body sags. The bow and arrows clatter to the floor as he drops to his knees, and you’re quick to drop with him. You land on your knees right in front of him.

“You’re killin’ me, Smalls,” you whisper once again to him.

“As if,” he shoots back, and you crush him in a hug.

The both of you clutch onto each other, you grip him tight just for the minute being. You hug him tight and he hugs back, and you revel in it. In it’s familiarity. He might have not been the Roy that was brought home to you, but he is the one you spent the last three years with, he is still your Roy. The one who helped you readjust to being back in Star City, the one who would drive you to school, and would tap you gently when you’d accidentally slip back into Atlantean. The one who would reassure you that life was going to be okay, who would sit beside your bed, who would hold your hand, who watched your back, he was your brother. Your brother, your responsibility.

Slowly you both re-centered, and then you hauled him up to the roof, and then all three of you were pulled back up into the bioship. It’s quiet when you’re all back.

“We’re clear,” you say quietly and there’s a collective breath let out.

Everyone settled into their seats and soon enough we were back in the air.

Kaldur doesn’t waste any time, “We were told you were the mole,” he explains and Roy puffs out a breath.

“But we have reason to doubt,” you quickly inserted.

“Forget doubt. I was the mole,” Roy states, and you let out an audible groan, staring up at the roof of the ship.

“Batman and Tornado said you’re a CADMUS clone, like me,” Conner admits.

Roy turns to look at you, and you offer a slight nod, “That explains it,” he nods with a sigh that makes him seem more tired than surprised. “I was a sleeper agent, pre-programmed to infiltrate the League…. I think Sportsmaster was my handler. He had a key-phrase, Broken Arrow… that could shut me down, put me in a hypnotic state to steal secrets for his superiors, or incorporate further programming. I'd then carry out all orders subconsciously completely unaware of what drove me.”

Roy paused and you stared back at him, “take me back?” you whisper to him and he shut his eyes and nodded once more before turning back to the rest of the team, specifically the three seated behind you.

“I think one of those orders was to focus suspicion on the three of you. I'm sorry,” he adds on.

“How did Batman discover this and prevent you from betraying the League?” Kaldur asks.

Roy pauses, and looks at you, “He didn't.”

“Fuck,” you sigh.

“Birdy,” Kaldur’s voice is level, and there’s a request in it to make sure you remain so as well.

“So what happened?” you ask, pulling yourself together.

“The entire League’s been put under mental domination via those chips you guys found,” Roy sighs, scrubbing at his face.

“The ones we got off Jade?” Artemis cut in.

“Yeah, he called ‘em Starro-tech, an alien bio-organism infused with nanotechnology and magic,” Roy explained.

“Nanotechnology and magic?” you repeat. “Artemis, in the Bayou, you said you saw-”

“Klarion, the Brain, Gorilla Mallah, and Professor Ivo,” she answers.

“If there was ever a trust that could pull something like that off…” you trail.

“What do they do? The chips?

“It shuts down the mind’s autonomy, allows the controller to reprogram the individual to suit their needs,” Roy explains.

“Wait…” Conner calls interrupting. “You said He called them, who’s he?”

Roy grimaces, looks around the ship and then straight at you, and you already don’t like where this is headed, “Savage,” he says and you don’t even make it a second before you explode.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you shout. “VANDAL SAVAGE? WHAT THE FUCK!”

“Language,” Roy says automatically, and then he twitches, like he hadn’t meant to say it. “And I knew you weren’t going to like that.”

“But this chip, it affected everyone?” M’gann asked, and you had no doubt she was thinking about her uncle.

“This Starro-tech, it worked on super-powered humans, four flavors of alien, an android, even Doctor Fate,” Roy explained.

“Defeating all of you without a fight?” Conner asks.

“Indeed. A remarkable achievement. One not easily countered,” Kaldur points out.

“I'm sorry, but how is it that you are no longer enslaved?” M’gann’s the one to ask and your body tenses up.

“No Starro-tech, for starters. Just my CADMUS programming, and once I had satisfied its last parameter, my mind began to clear,” Roy admits. “I'm sure Savage planned to Starro-tech me, but he paused to bask… I escaped.”

You turn in your seat and look back at M’gann, urging her to understand, and luckily, she does. She nods at you with a gentle smile, “I promise, I can clean any residual programming from your mind,” M’gann says, reassuring you, despite the intention being directed at Roy.

“Linking both squads and de-camouflaging,” M’gann’s voice suddenly echoes in your head and you spot the super cycle as it moves into docking position.

“Great. Because we really need to compare notes,” Robin’s voice has an edge, and as you come face to face with him and the other half of your team, you spot Wally’s frown and notice Dinah.

“What the fuck?” your voice takes on it’s own lethal edge as your gaze jumps from your unconscious and tied up mentor to the rest of the team.

It took some time but eventually both halves of the team had been caught up, now the only think left was to figure out the next move.

“What if we reverse engineer the starro-tech?” Wally’s the one to make the suggestion and it has all of you pausing.

“Great idea, but how?” Artemis’ tone is dry but she makes a valid point.

It goes quiet and that’s when you have an idea.

“ti tha ginótan an rotoúsame ti vasílissa?" (what if we were to ask the queen?) the question echoes across the link but only one person can understand.

Kaldur blinks slowly and in a hesitant tone asks, “*Rota tin gia ti akrivos?*" (ask her for what exactly?)

Your lip quirks a bit, “*an boroúme dioikitís Giatrós V?*" (if we can commandeer Doctor V?)

You’re not sure what you were expecting but you’re not sure why you were surprised, Kaldur’s always backed your plans, “Pistévete óti o Red échei akóma ton arithmó tis Roquette?" (Do you think Red still has Roquette’s number?)

You offer a lopsided smile, “**Tha chreiastoúme óli ti voítheia pou boroúme na pároume**." (We’re gonna need all the help we can get.)

“Would someone like to clue those of us not fluent in Atlantean in?” Conner’s tone cuts through your conversation.

You share another look with Kaldur.

“It’s your plan,” he prods.

“Wally has the right idea, we have to reverse engineer the chip. We don’t stand a chance if we don’t,” you remind everyone.

“But you have a plan that will address that,” Robin realizes.

“Of course she does, when it comes down to it, our girl’s always got a plan,” Wally snorts, but by the way he scrubs at his face you realize he’s on edge.

You nod, “what do we know about the staro-tech?”

“Alien bio-organisim infused with nanotechnology and magic… what are you thinking?” Roy trails.

“I think you have the number for a nanotechnologies expert who owes us a favor, and I happen to know a few individuals who specialize in magic and science, in fact they run a whole conservatory, that teaches kids like us, well, like Kaldur,” you hint to everyone else.

“Doctor Roquette and Queen Meera,” Robin realizes.

“Alongside Doctor Vulko, who runs the Atlantean Science Center, he’s the Minister of Science for the kingdom,” Kaldur adds.

“Doctor Spence too,” Connor adds, “She worked for CADMUS, she probably can help reverse engineer the chips.”

“Which means there’s also three people we need to pick up, ASAP,” you point out.

Another silence fils the ship, Wally’s already shaking his head, and Rob’s still staring straight at you.

“We have to split up,” Rocket’s the one to state the obvious.

“Again?” Zatanna’s voice wobbles a bit.

You bite down hard on your lip to keep yourself focused.

“We have to, the quicker we get them, the quicker we fix this. We have to fix this,” you say, voice level.

“How do you want to handle it?” Robin’s the one to ask, his own voice level, but you can see the twitch in his hand.

Your lips tug down as you prepare to answer, because there’s only one possibility, “Superboy and Miss Martian will pick up Dr. Spence. Kid Flash and Robin will escort Red Arrow-” you don’t mean for your voice to crack but it does. “Will escort Red Arrow and retrieve Dr. Roquette.”

“You’ve got to be joking,” Wally’s scoff, clearly depicts what he thinks of your decision.

“Dude,” Robin’s quick to cut him off.

“And Aqualad and I will take the super cycle to go to Atlantis,” you finish. “Artemis, Zee, and Rocket will play support, and keep tabs on Canary. Please do not lose my mentor. Plus they can run background with RT.”

You’re met with silence.

“This is the plan, if someone has a better idea, speak up now, otherwise, you know what you have to do,” you swallow back the anxiety, and focus your gaze on Kaldur, you can’t look at anyone else, not right now.

You remember his words from earlier, to lean on him, and to allow him to support you. It was all so overwhelming, it’s all too much, but staring at Kaldur reminded you of the little girl who was barely 10 when she was dropped in Atlantis. The girl so full of rage she couldn’t sort through her own emotions. Kaldur knew how to help that girl center herself, taught her how to cope and handle things.

“Well if no one else is going to say it; I have some thoughts,” Wally scoffs again.

“Trust me, we know you do, Wall-Man,” Artemis’ dry tone actually puts a smile on your lips, a small quirk of a thing, but it works.

“I’m only taking constructive criticism at the moment,” you tag on, and your gaze finally flickers to Wally who is simply glaring at you.

You offer a shrug in response, and you can feel the heat of Wally’s glare, the discomfort radiating off of Dick, but you don’t have it in you right now to address it.

ATLANTIS December 31st, 13:13 EST

“Our friends are… displeased,” Kaldur notes cautiously once it’s just the two of you on the supercycle.

“I know,” you nod, and you did, you felt it in the air, rolling off your teammates, your friends, as you and Kaldur geared up to split off.

“What are you thinking, poulí?” the question weighs heavy on you.

“I am thinking that this is my only plan, K. I don’t have a back up if we should fail this time around,” you admit.

“Then it’s good we trust in your planning, old friend. Your plans have never led us astray thus far,” he muses.

“Define astray,” you scoff back, Kaldur lets a smile slip, and then a hand lands on your shoulder comfortingly.

“They believe in you, and so do I,” he reassures you. “This idea, utilizing our resources, it is a good plan.”

“Vandal Savage, Kaldur, it’s a big play we’re chancing at here,” you sigh, twisting your rings nervously.

“Yes, and we are making the most educated choices we can. Believe in yourself, poulí, just as we do.”

You nod silently doing your best to absorb Kaldur’s reassurances. Soon enough the Super-cycle begins to descend. It pauses part way submerged, and you reach out with the ring clad finger to touch the water. Kaldur is silent beside you as you ground yourself. You feel the current, the pull of the ocean, and firmly you say, “anapnéo,” the ring made from atlantean metal glows, and then with a tap to the Super-cycle it submerges completely.

The first breath is always a bit nerve wracking, it feels like you’re entirely out of practice, and therefore not prepared to breathe. But you do. You cautiously, slowly breathe in, and when it feels as normal as it does on land your body relaxes.

“pos niótheis poulí?" (how do you feel, Birdy?) Kaldur’s question jars your wandering thoughts back into the present.

“étoimo na cheiristeí ó,ti prépei na cheiristeí ,” (ready to handle what needs to be handled) you assure him and he nods.

Minutes pass and then you are confronted with the city of Atlantis, beautiful in all its glowing magic and technology. You smile at the city fondly and catch the wanting in Kaldur’s eye, this was him home, and for a year it had been your own. The two of you had developed your friendship in this city, it will always, without a doubt, be a very special place for you.

As the cycle passes through the gates and toward the conservatory, you push the melancholic nostalgia away, and do your best to focus in on the mission at hand, there was too much as stake to be distracted by memories of the past. As Kaldur disembarks, you follow, and the two of you make your way into the Conservatory of Magic.

MOUNT JUSTICE

December 31st, 15:42 EST

“So you need us to develop something that will work against, whatever magicked up alien technology that Mr. Big Bad, Vandal Savage is using against the Justice League?” Roquette’s tone was the same as it was when you first encountered her, and you share a look with Kaldur when you both notice it.

“The heroes have come to us for help, should we not so long as we are able?” Dr. Vulko, ever the voice of reason, and forever on the side of progress is the balm you didn’t realize you’d need.

“I agree, this is an opportunity to do good with the knowledge we have acquired over our years,” Dr. Spence’s agreement catches you off guard, but the pride and satisfaction rolling off of SB tells you this is exactly what he’d hoped for.

“It’s simple, Kaldur’ahm and Poulí told us what’s wrong, you’re either here to help, or they can show you the door,” Tulla’s blunt and to the point, and you have the choke down the snort as you stare appreciatively at the redhead, you notice that Kaldur’s doing the same, some things, you imagine, would never change.

You’d all regrouped at the Cave, scientists and specialists in hand. Tulla had been Queen Veera’s contribution and envoy as she could not leave Atlantis without a sane monarch, and especially not in a time where the King had been compromised. Each recruit had been given the details during their travel, but once they were all together, the gravity had seemingly begun to set in. Dr. Rouquette was as vibrant as she had been when you’d first met, despite that though, they had begun a prompt discussion on how the chip works, and a prefatory analysis on the confiscated chip.

“So do we think this is gonna work? Or should we be considering a back-up plan?” Rocket’s voice echoes though the open link and while the specialists continue their discussions, the team sends knowing looks to each other.

“this is the plan, the only plan,” you tell them seriously.

“Wait, seriously? You always have a back-up?” Artemis’ surprise is evident, and your lips twist down in response.

“Figures, considering her go-to has also been compromised,” Wally’s judgement is clear and your eye twitches in response.

“Sorry about that,” Zatanna’s voice is meek in response, and you catch the way Artemis, punches Wally in the arm, and his accompanying wince.

“So not your fault,” you finally cut in. “And I don’t hear you offering something else up, Wall-Man?” you state bitingly, shooting him a glare at which Wally winces again.

“To be fair, this was originally his idea,” Conner cuts in.

“Semantics,” Robin disagrees, “plus, Birdy’s the one with the connections to make it happen.”

“Gee, thanks, Rob. My genius and l feel so appreciated,” Wally scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Right, so… back-up plan?” Rocket asks again.

“I don’t know! Short of contacting any non-affiliated heroes, or intergalactic organizations, I’m not sure what else we can do,” you sigh, a hand coming up to pinch at the bridge of your nose, while you work to secure your emotions and constrain your frustration.

“Intergalactic organizations?” Rocket repeats.

“OA,” the response is echoed by Wally, Rob, Roy, and Kaldur, you can’t help but notice this is the first time Roy was participating.

“OA,” you confirm, and then catching the confused look, on Rocket and Zatanna’s faces you add, “The Green Lantern Corps.”

“Oh,” Zatanna’s understanding is soft, as her eyes widen.

“We have a line to them?” Rocket asks, surprise evident.

“…We have potential avenues,” Robin supplies, defending your point while making eye contact with you.

“We do?” Artemis’ question is fair, and you hesitate, but your eyes lock with Roy, and then with Dick.

“Earth has another Green Lantern,” You remind the team.

“Is he not a part of the league?” Zatanna squints.

“…There were some concerns about his attitude and maturity,” Dick supplies cautiously.

“But they let Roy in?” the dig slips from Artemis’ thoughts, and by the look on her face you know she didn’t mean to project that particular thought.

You can’t help the very audible snort, and a hand comes up over your face in embarrassment as everyone turns to you.

You catch the small smirk on Dick’s face, and Wally’s chuckling a little bit too. And when Roy turns to you, betrayed, you can’t help but start to giggle, and when your avert your gaze, they land on Wally. Which really was the worst move because then you’re both laughing.

“Okay!” Roy huffs. “Laugh it up, Birdy,” he scoffs.

“Sor-” you try but burst into another fit, until you’re practically leaning on Kaldur to stay upright.

When you finally get control, you catch the small smile on Kaldur’s face, and even Roy’s scowl has faded a bit.

“Sorry,” you say seriously, bitting your lip and straightening up.

“Should we be worried?” Rocket asks, wide eyes on you.

“No, sorry, I just… whew, I needed a laugh, thanks Artemis,” you smile.

Artemis blushes a bit in response, “What were you going to say about the other Lantern?” she prompts, pushing the conversation back on track.

“Right, Guy Gardner,” you share. “Kind of a bully based on Canary’s files, it’s the reason he hasn’t been inducted. But he is a Lantern, and the ring did choose him. He’s based out of Baltimore, Maryland. If we fail here, we just need to get word to him, hopefully he’ll take it seriously,” you shrug.

“Reassuring,” Rocket laments flatly, and all you can do is shrug again.

“Kaldur’ahm, Poulí, I think we may have come to an understanding,” Vulko’s voice booms across the room, and your head snaps to him immediately.

“What do you need?” you ask, setting your shoulders, as the rest of the team turns to face the brain trust.

THE WATCHTOWER December 31st, 23:16 EST

Infiltrating the Watchtower was not something you’d ever thought you’d have to do. However, somehow, you really can’t find it in you to be totally surprised.

Dinah, now freed from Starro-Tech’s control, along with Roy and Red Tornado had gone in as a distraction, allowing the team to handle the rest. Part of you had been hesitant to let Roy out of your sight after finally finding him. Not to mention Dinah. You’d twitched a little too violently, when she volunteered to go back, and Roy and Dick had both given you cautious looks as a response.

The waiting was the worst though.

You watched as M’gann, Kaldur, and Connor broke through the wall where the Bioship had docked. Robin kept an eye on the alarms and scanners the entire time, covering the Team’s tracks as he went.

Eventually, it was time.

“RT did it. Wirelessly bypassed security for us as soon as he arrived. Savage shouldn't know we're here,” Robin confirmed, once we’d all regrouped inside the watchtower.

Aqualad nodded, before casting a quick glance at the rest of the team, “move out.”

“Currently tracking five League members between us and Savage,” Robin shares as you and Kaldur begin leading everyone though.

“Which ones?” Artemis’ tone is dubious, even through the link, and you can’t really say you blame her.

“Plastic Man, Hawkman, the Atom, Captain Atom, and… well,” Robin pauses on the last one and you turn back to look at him. “Green Arrow.”

The team pauses, as they wait for the next move. There were nine of you, which meant almost everyone could double up, almost.

A quick glance at Kaldur tells you he was thinking the same thing.

“Here’s the plan…” you speak first, “We work quietly and quickly. Take every opportunity to knock as many of the Leaguers out as we can before Savage and his cohort baddies realize what’s happening. Artemis and KF, you two take Plastic Man. SB and Rob, Hawkman. Zatanna and Miss M, the Atom. Aqualad and Rocket, Captain Atom. Leave GA to me,” the team nods, but once again you notice their hesitation.

“What?” you press.

“Are you sure you want to handle GA? One of us can do it,” Wally offers tentatively.

“No. He’s mine. But Rob, I could use a favor…”

Armed with one of Robin’s recording birdarangs you split off from the group. You’re following your map to where GA’s icon is moving, and periodically you get updates from the rest of the team.

First it’s KF and Artemis.

“Plastic Man in gassed, and chipped,” you can practically hear Wally’s smirk as he reports in.

You turn another corner.

“Hawkman’s chipped too,” Robin reports.

“Probably going to be out for a bit. I might’ve hit him a little too hard,” Superboy admits.

You pause when you hear Oliver’s footsteps. Spotting the crates, you launch yourself up. Walking on the balls of your feet, you climb up, silently.

“We got the Atom,” Zatanna confirms.

You catch sight of a support beam, a few feet above you, and launch yourself up with as much strength as you can muster. You manage to grab hold, and then you pull your body up, until you’re balanced on your feet, walking the beam.

“Captain Atom is incapacitated, but chipped,” Kaldur’s the next one to confirm, which just left you.

You pull the chip from your belt, as well as the birdarang. Following Oliver’s path ahead, you toss the birdarang, it lands solidly in the wall.

A beat passes.

And then a second.

And then-

“Ha, Ha, Ollie, over here!”

Your giggle echoes down the hall, and Oliver’s quick to turn to the sound.

“NG, status?” Robin’s voice rings through the link but you ignore it.

You take your grapple line and wrap it around the support, making sure it’s snug in place, before attaching the line to your belt.

“Birdy, you copy?” Wally this time.

Oliver’s almost in position, and so you count.

one.

two.

three.

You hold your breath as you lean back.

For a second you’re falling, and it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Luckily, the speaker starts again.

“Ha, ha. Ollie, over here!”

The recording covers the sound of the grapple going taught.

“Nightingale, report in!” Kaldur, and he’s serious.

You get about two seconds before Oliver realizes the birdarang’s what’s making the sound, and you’re suspended in the air, halfway between the ground and the support beams of the Watchtower.

The chip, which you’d been flipping around your finger’s is poised between your index and middle fingers, and right as Ollie turns, baring the side of his neck, you toss it. You throw it the way Dinah taught you to throw a shuriken.

The balance had practically been the same.

It hits Ollie and there’s a second when he turns to you, arrow drawn.

And then he collapses.

You tug on the grapple cord and it slackens. You land on your feet, twisting the cord back into your grapple as you walk up to the downed Green Arrow.

“GA’s chipped,” you finally say, tuning back into the link.

“We’re not splitting up anymore,” Wally says quickly.

You roll your eyes.

“Don’t be ridiculous, KF-”

“You didn’t answer us!” Artemis cuts in.

This time you scoff.

“They have to realize by now,” Robin speaks up.

“He’s right, we need to move. Zatanna and Miss Martian, you two head for the dock Zeta, Rocket and I will join you,” Kaldur decides. “The rest of you head up.”

“On the way,” Zatanna confirms.

You’d started making your way back up, sticking to the support beams as much as possible, so far, you’d avoided any further League interactions.

“That’s Dr. Fate, Icon, and Captain Marvel taken care of,” Zatanna speaks up, and you pause for a second.

“Too bad Cure-tech doesn't work as fast as Starro-tech. We could use these guys,” Rocket huffs, and your lips quirk up, she’s not wrong.

“It is a small miracle Queen Meera and Doctors Roquette, Spence, and Vulko were able to re-engineer a cure and vaccine at all,” Kaldur reminds her.

“And their combined 8 PhDs,” you muse.

Before anyone can respond to your joke, KF interjects, “If you guys aren't busy...”

Your breath catches, but Kaldur’s already on the move, “On my way. You three rendezvous with Robin and Superboy.”

You pick up your pace as well, and are only partially paying attention when Zatanna gives her confirmation.

“Uh, I'll be right behind you,” she offers.

You manage to arrive at the main deck in time to Batman hit Robin.

“I am so not turbed,” is how you announce yourself, as your jump down from the level you’re on, using your grapple to loop down to the one where Robin is.

“Yeah, me neither,” he promises.

You’re on your feet in time to fall in step with both Superboy and Robin, both seem to be smarting a bit after taking on Batman and Superman, understandably.

“We're not gonna beat them one-on-one,” Robin finally announces.

“Plan B, then,” Superboy confirms.

“And I thought my contingencies were drastic,” you manage to joke out before taking Connor’s hand.

Conner grabs a hold of you with one hand, and Robin with the other. Using his strength he spins you both, before launching you one after the other at Batman.

You land first, grabbing a handful of his cape to pull him with your momentum.

Robin’s body crashes into you both a second later, and then the three of you go into the wall. You can feel your bones rattle from the impact, but when you slide down, you manage to grab a hold of a chip as Robin hold’s Batman steady.

You place the chip, before changing your stance to drop into a roll. You pop up on one leg, escrima sticks in hand, and Robin lands crouched beside you.

You barely have a second to catch your breath before you hear Superman and Superboy go into a wall of their own.

You both take off and you hesitate when Robin reaches to his belt.

“You sure about this?” you ask as you both run up to them.

Superboy manages to grunt out a, “Just do it!” as he strains to hold Superman in place.

You grab hold of another chip while Robin opens a box.

The green light reflects off their faces, and you watch as it seems to drain them both. Conner and Superman both start sliding down, neither of them fighting anymore as they go.

As soon as Superman falls, you’re quick to place the chip, and once you do, Robin’s shutting the lead lined box tight.

You sit back on your ass and let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, turning back to check on Conner, who was pulling himself up to sit against the wall beside you.

He lets out a groan, looking at you and then at Robin, “Ugh. Kryptonite… hurts,” he admits, and you can’t help the scoff that slips past your lips.

It brings a smile to Robin’s face though.

“Which is why,” he begins, offering a hand to Conner. “Batman keeps it in an overwhelmingly impenetrable vault at the Batcave,” he explains, pulling SB back to his feet.

“Overwhelmingly impenetrable, huh?” you smirk up at the two.

Both boys smile down, offering you a hand.

“Well, more like a whelmingly penetrable vault,” Robin corrects.

You snort, taking their hands, and they’re quick to put you back on your feet as well.

“Let’s go. Vandal Savage awaits,” you remind them, and the two nod at you, before the three of you take off toward’s the main viewing deck, where the main Zeta point was for the Watchtower.

Unfortunately you get there just in time to watch Vandal Savage, Klarion, and his familiar, Teekle, disappear through a portal. Wally skidding into where they had been not even a second before.

You redirect yourself over to where Dinah and Roy are unconscious on the floor.

Wally whizzes up to you and grabs your spare de-programing chips, placing them on the leaguers who were up here, before sliding back up to the rest of you.

“Congratulations, Team. You have won the day,” Red Tornado announces, and you let out a tired chuckle at the thought.

None of you have an opportunity to respond though, because in the next second, a holoscreen appears.

“Happy New Year, Justice League,” the computer announces.

You don’t catch what Wally said, but when you turn to him, he’s holding Artemis, and they’re kissing.

Your lip twitches up, and then Connor and M’gann too.

“I’m liking this Team more every day,” Rocket decides, smirking as she kisses Kaldur’s cheek.

You roll your eyes and gag at Robin and Zatanna, both of whom smother their laughs. Zatanna looks away as she tries to keep her composure, but Robin stares back at you.

“Milkshakes?” you mouth to him while no one’s watching.

“Definitely,” he mouths back.

“Human customs still elude me,” Red Tornado announces in response to the kissing, and you can’t hold back your snort.

THE WATCHTOWER January 1st, 00:42 EST

It took some time, but eventually the Leaguer’s began to wake up, and slolwy they all arrived back in the entry deck.

“Everything I thought I knew about myself was a lie. I'm not a hero or a sidekick. I'm a traitor, a pawn,” Roy’s tone was low, dejected, in a way you’re not sure you’d ever heard it.

Dinah reaches out, placing a hand on his arm, “Roy, it'll be all-”

You wince when you watch Roy pull back from her. Bitting too far into your lip and tasting blood.

“I'm not Roy! I don't know what I am. All I know is I need to find the real Roy. I need to rescue Speedy,” he counters.

You’d been too anxious to sit when everyone else had. electing instead to stand across the table from Roy while Ollie and Dinah took the seats on either side of him.

“We’ll help you. The team I mean. And if not, then I will. We’ll find him,” you cut in, licking over your split lip.

“Guardian is already searching Cadmus,” Batman add, reassuringly.

Ollie had been unusually quiet.

“We should take Ro- Red Arrow, home, at least, for now,” Dinah decides.

You caught her slip up, everyone at the table probably did, but no one commented.

“Of course, all four of you can go,” Batman nods.

You catch the tonal shift, and you hesitate.

You’re not sure you would’ve noticed it if not for the rest of your abilities, but you know there’s something else.

“I’d like to stay,” you announce and everyone turns to you. “Just for a bit,” you backtrack, “I want to make sure the Team’s set, and I need to speak with Aquaman about how we deconstructed the chips,” you expound.

Roy looks like he wants to bolt, not that you balme him.

Ollie’s holding himself stiffly.

Dinah looks a little queasy at leaving you here on your own.

“I’ll be fine,” you reassure them.

“I’ll escort her, to Arthur, and then back to the Zeta’s,” Batman offers, and you notice as Dinah realxes, but only a little.

“Not too long,” she adds, though it’s perfunctory, you can tell.

“Promise,” you nod.

She smiles once more at you, weak and strained, before she and Ollie take Roy toward the Zeta’s

You wait until they’re through before you turn back to Batman. Robin and Kaldur had taken the seat on either side of him, and the four of you were the only ones left in the room.

Your hands land on the table with a loud smack that echoes thorough the room, and all three sets of eyes shift to you.

Yours, however, are focused on Batman, “Something else is wrong,” you say.

You’re not asking, you’re not, because you know.

Batman hesitates, looking to Robin for a second before turning back to you, and then nodding.

“The entire League was under Savage's spell for just over a day,” Robin begins, sharing a holoscreen with you. “We've accounted for most of that time. But these six went missing for a full 16 hours we can't account for.”

You stare at the screen. Batman, Superman, Green Lantern; John Stewart, Hawkwoman, Wonder Woman, and Martian Manhinter.

Powerhouses, all six. Each in their own right, different skills, different tactics. It’s terrifying to think what they could have accomplished for Klarion and Vandal Savage in sixteen hours, the implications were limitless.

“Sixteen hours,” Batman repeats, “what did we do?”

STAR CITY January 1st, 02:04 EST

It’s another hour or so by the time you make it back to Star City. You’d talked with King Arthur, shared with him how you and Kaldur had gone to Atlantis, and that Queen Meera had been appraised. And then you’d circled back to the cave to shower and change.

It’s two in the morning when you make it home, and frankly, you’re surprised to see Roy still up.

Dinah and Ollie weren’t around so you assumed they’d gone to bed. They probably thought he had too.

“Hey,” you greet lamely.

“Hi,” is all he offers back.

You drop your gym bag down by the door, and replace the lock before walking over to the sofa. You drop down beside Roy, but you leave a healthy space, not wanting to crowd him. You turn, tucking one leg under you, so that you can face him better.

“I know it’s a stupid question, but I’m going to ask anyways,” you begin, but he doesn’t look at you, focused instead on something just past your head. “How are you?”

He lets out a snort, but it’s dry, and sad, and you can hear it for what the answer it offers. Stupid question.

“I don’t know…” he says after a minute of silence. “But… I don’t really know anything anymore,” he adds on.

You bite on your lip again, wincing when your teeth make contact with the split lip you’d forgotten about.

“Fair,” you offer, agreeing.

“It’s fine,” he huffs, shrugging you off.

Your eyes narrow at that, it was a lot of things, fine isn’t one of them.

“Roy-”

“Don’t call me that!” he hisses, and you pause.

“Okay,” you concede, swallowing thickly. “What should I call you?” you prompt instead.

“I- I.. I don’t know, just.. I’m not Roy Harper, I’m not!” the last words come out as a sob, and you flick the piece of you that wants to give him space the recesses of your mind, scooting closer and wrapping an arm around his middle the best you can.

“How about Red, at least until we figure it all out?” you offer instead.

“Stop,” he cries. “Stop being nice, and understanding, I replaced him!” Roy’s voice is low, and sad, and you know he wants to make his point, but seems not to want to wake up Dinah or Ollie.

“She’s asleep so I’m going to say the bad words she tries to keep me from using,” you begin, delighted when it gets a wet snort out of the redhead. “But fuck that,” you say seriously, and he snorts again.

Finally turning to look at you, though he’s stuck with it, seeing as you’re practically pressing into his side.

“Look, I’m not blaming Ollie but I’m sure as shit not blaming you either. And I think it’s okay to acknowledge the fact that what you went through in the last few days has been harsh. That it was thirty-one flavors of traumatizing. God, Red! I’d be a fucking mess if it were Dinah coming after me, but it’s not your fucking fault or theirs!” you huff out.

“You owe Dinah at least $20, for just the last minute alone,” is all he says in response.

You scoff.

“Look, Roy or not, you’re my brother too. You have been for the last three years, and just because you’re a clone, it doesn’t make it less true,” you say seriously, and he goes quiet.

You let out a long sigh.

“You should get some sleep, tomorrow’s gonna be a long day,” you finally offer after the silence stretches.

“Yeah,” he huffs, standing up.

You stand after him, tugging him into a tight hug, that he doesn’t seem sure of how to respond to.

“Goodnight, Red,” you say gently.

“Goodnight, (y/n),” he whispers, before peeling you off of him, and walking away.

STAR CITY January 1st, 10:22 EST

You slept horribly.

The worst ever, actually.

Okay probably not, but it was still pretty bad.

The light at the end of the tunnel where the two hours of no questions you’d managed to wrangle out of Dinah.

You were already in a booth when he walked in.

Sat with your eyes closed, leaning against the linoleum seats, and when the overhead bell of the entry door rings, you blink them open in time to see Dick find you.

You offer him a muted lazy smile, and he gives you one in return.

“Hey,” he greets.

“Hey,” you say, sliding down.

He takes the invitation, settling down beside you instead of across from you.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence. It seems you both were talked out after the events of the previous day.

Eventually, Mrs. Lenetii brings out a milkshake for you both, cooing over you, before siappearing to take care of another table.

Your head lands on his and his fingers interlace with yours.

“Bad night?” he asks after you’d both been ignoring your milkshakes for too long.

“yeah,” you nod.

“Yeah,” he repeats.

Slowly you lift your head.

You’re close, the two of you. His face is right there, his lips.

He’s staring at you with the wide blue eyes, and you wonder if he’s suddenly as nervous as you were.

You thought of Wally and Artemis at Midnight, of M’gann and Conner, even Rocket. But they were all older. You and Dick were the youngest on the team. It had never felt like it more until right now.

“Um-” he stutters out. “I… uh.. Can I?” he trails off.

“Have you.. ever?” you question back.

Neither of you have moved apart though.

“No,” he admits. “You?”

“No,” you share.

He offers you a shy smile, and it’s the first one in almost forty hours that doesn’t feel strained.

When he tilts down, you move up. There’s no fireworks. And your noes’ bump, and you giggle. And then your teeth clack, and he laughs. It’s awkward and kind of strange, and not at all what the movies make it sound like it’ll be, but it was your first kiss, and it was his too, and it tastes a little like the chocolate and strawberry milkshakes you’d both been sipping on, and all of it together makes it kind of magical in an of itself.

No matter what happened next, what came next, you had Dick, and you knew he had your back.

everything tags: @butterfly-skinnylegend

dc taglist: @batarella @loninctzencarat @escapenightmare @uh-oh-howd-i-get-here

cnng taglist: @babymango-writes @smile-more19 @bruiscdlikeviolets @truly-dionysus @farfromjustordinary @sometimeseverythingsucks @dweeb-central @lucy-roo @casedoina @cipheress-to-k-pop @anonomano @seninjakitey @whelmedparker @officiallydarkgeek @midnxghtblue @unini @blackwhiteandshadesofgradient @dontmesswithbeebo @raggedyoldwitch @bouqet-of-gay @duckmylife18 @kendallambrosio @notslaybabes @torchbearerkyle @cynthiarose07 @mono--moonchild @emo-space-tea @notsostraightweeb @sassyspanishartist @ahyeonah @acceber1313 @onepieceformeplease @whatislifeandhowdoidoit @luvelyxp @lovelyartemisa @evermoore580 @mischiefmanaged71 @cryingnotcrying @aces-tattooartist @we-flower-fan @awkward-youtube-trash @laurcad123 @sanovr @feverish-dove @lolsnacks

292 notes View Post

bbsaeko

2 months ago

Pairings. M.D.Luffy- R.Zoro- V.Sanji - Shanks - T.Law - P.D.Ace - E.Kid

Pairings. M.D.Luffy- R.Zoro- V.Sanji - shanks - T.Law - P.D.Ace - E.Kid

summary. Fav part on your body

— (a/n): DARLING!, every inch of you is perfect. Plus request are open (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

Monkey D. Luffy – Your Hands

Luffy is fascinated by your hands. Whether they’re soft, calloused, or adorned with tattoos, he loves them because they’re yours. He’s constantly grabbing them, playing with your fingers absentmindedly, or holding them against his cheek. He especially adores when you feed him—his eyes light up every time you bring food to his lips, and he sometimes playfully nibbles on your fingers just to make you laugh. And when you ruffle his hair with those same hands? He melts.

But Luffy’s obsession goes beyond just holding them—he finds comfort in them. If he’s sleepy, he’ll take your hand and press it against his cheek, his lashes fluttering as he hums in contentment. If he’s excited, he’ll grab both of your hands and swing them around, his laughter ringing through the air. And if he’s feeling extra affectionate? He’ll kiss your palms, grinning up at you before pressing them against his face dramatically. And when you cup his face in your hands, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb, his usual playful energy softens. His lips part slightly, his expression suddenly unreadable. He stares at you—wide-eyed, almost mesmerized—before he suddenly grins, rubbing his face even further into your touch like an overgrown puppy. “Heh, your hands feel nice,” he mumbles, before promptly biting your finger again, his laughter echoing through the air as you scold him.

Roronoa Zoro – Your Back

Zoro has a thing for your back—he won’t outright say it, but his actions make it obvious. Whenever you wear something that exposes even a hint of skin, his eyes linger. He finds something undeniably strong yet elegant about the way your back curves when you move. If you have scars, he respects them deeply, running his fingers over them with quiet admiration. If you have tattoos, he studies them in silent appreciation, perhaps even tracing them when you’re resting together. And when you stretch, arms raised above your head, your back arching slightly? He has to physically stop himself from pulling you into his arms.

But if he’s feeling bold—or maybe just a little tipsy—he’ll step up behind you, fingers ghosting over the bare skin of your spine, his breath warm against your ear as he murmurs, “You’re showing off, aren’t you?” His voice is low, teasing, but there’s a rough edge to it, like he’s holding himself back. “Knowing you’re what man need”. If you turn to face him, expecting him to retreat, he doesn’t—he just smirks, eyes locked onto yours, before running a calloused hand down your back with slow, deliberate intent.

Sanji – Your Neck

Sanji worships your neck. It’s his personal sanctuary, a place where his lips constantly find their way. He loves to nuzzle into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as his hands settle on your waist. His kisses are slow and lingering, sometimes teasing, sometimes desperate. He whispers sweet nothings against your skin, praising you like you’re the most divine being in existence. If you wear something that exposes your neck—off-the-shoulder tops, delicate necklaces—he’s doomed. He’ll place kisses there absentmindedly, even in public, murmuring, “Mon amour, you’re making it very hard to behave.”

If you wear something that leaves your neck exposed—whether it’s an elegant dress or just a loose button-down—Sanji is done for. He’ll run his fingers over the delicate skin absentmindedly, his touch featherlight, his breath hitching slightly. And if you so much as tilt your head, offering him more space? He’s pressing his lips against you instantly, But his favorite? When you’re cooking together and he sneaks up behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder, arms wrapping around your waist. His lips graze your neck as he murmurs something about how beautiful you look, and before you can even react, he’s already pressing a lingering kiss to your pulse. He lives for the way you shiver under his touch, and you can feel the satisfied smirk against your skin.

Shanks – Your Breasts

Shanks is shameless. He doesn’t try to hide his admiration—he fully embraces it. He loves resting his head against your chest after a long day, sighing contentedly as you run your fingers through his hair. He’s the type to slip his hand under your shirt absentmindedly, not necessarily with ulterior motives, but just to feel your warmth. If you wear something that accentuates your figure, expect him to tease you endlessly. He’s the kind of man who smirks, takes a sip of his drink, and drawls, “how god create something perfect like you” before pulling you into his lap.

He’s convinced that anything can make your breasts look even sexier, and once the idea enters his head, it stays there. One day, in that deep, playful voice of his, he casually suggests, “You know, a piercing right here—” his finger traces between your breasts, his touch featherlight yet purposeful, ”—would look absolutely stunning on you.” If you decide to tease him back, tilting your head with a smirk and saying, “How about nipple piercings instead?”—his reaction is immediate. His grip on your waist tightens, his pupils darken, and he exhales sharply through his nose, as if he’s just been hit with a vision too tempting to handle. He leans in, voice rough with amusement and something deeper, “get ‘em, I’d love to feel them on my tongue.”

Trafalgar Law – Your Collarbone & Shoulders

Law is a man of precision, and there’s something about your collarbones and shoulders that drives him crazy. Maybe it’s the sharp elegance of them, the way they peek through when you wear certain outfits, or the way his fingers trace over them absentmindedly when you’re lying together. He appreciates the way they flex subtly when you move, the strength hidden beneath softness. If you have tattoos here, he’s even more obsessed—he studies them with sharp, quiet interest, his fingers brushing over the ink as he asks about their meaning. And when he’s feeling particularly possessive? He marks you with slow, deliberate kisses, leaving faint traces of his touch behind.

When he’s feeling possessive, he won’t just admire—he’ll mark. His lips will graze over your collarbone, pressing slow, deliberate kisses, his grip tightening on your waist. He’s not one for open displays of affection, but the moment you’re alone? His hands are on your shoulders, his mouth tracing along your collarbone.

Portgas D. Ace – Your Hips

Ace has a love for your hips, and he’s not shy about it. His hands naturally settle there, whether he’s pulling you closer, steadying you after a stumble, or just holding you while talking. He likes the way they move when you walk—so much so that he often ends up staring without realizing it. He’s the type to hook a finger into the waistband of your pants or skirt, tugging playfully just to see your reaction. If you have dimples on your lower back, he’s obsessed, pressing kisses there whenever he gets the chance. And when you straddle his lap, resting your hands on his shoulders? He swears you’re going to be the death of him.

He loves how easy it is to tease you when he has his hands on your hips. He’ll grip them suddenly, just to see you react, and his grin only widens when you give him a playful shove. And if you’re straddling him, hands braced against his chest? He’s gone. His fingers tighten instinctively, his voice rough as he chuckles, “you make me feel like a dream”

But the real kicker? If you jokingly sway your hips while walking away, knowing he’s watching. He’ll groan dramatically, running a hand down his face, before catching up with you, tossing an arm around your waist. “You can’t just do that and expect me to hold on,” he huffs, but the way his fingers flex against your hip tells you he’s not complaining.

Eustass Kid – Your Thighs

Kid is obsessed with your thighs. He loves the way they feel under his hands, whether they’re soft or toned, and he often absentmindedly grips them when you sit close to him. He’s the type to pull you onto his lap with zero hesitation, his metal hand resting heavily on your thigh like a silent claim. If you wear something that shows them off—shorts, skirts, anything that accentuates their shape—he’s staring. And if you dare to tease him, pressing your legs together in a way that draws his attention? He’ll lean in, voice low and full of challenge, “you wanna play bad bitch role ~ hmm?”

If you wear something that shows them off—shorts, skirts, anything that accentuates their shape—he’s staring. He won’t even try to hide it, his red eyes dark with something dangerous. And if you catch him looking, raising an eyebrow at him in amusement? He just smirks and shrugs, completely unashamed. “Not my fault you look this divine.” But his absolute favorite? When you’re sitting with your legs draped over his lap, and he gets to absentmindedly trace patterns along your skin. His touch is rough yet oddly tender, and if you tease him about it, he just grunts, “Shut the fuck up,” but doesn’t stop. And if you so much as playfully squeeze his waist with your thighs? He growls, his grip tightening as he leans in, voice low and taunting, “they will look perfect spread, don’t you think?”

941 notes View Post

bbsaeko

1 month ago

ദ്ദി ≽^⎚˕⎚^≼ .ᐟ, 𝜗𝜚 ➜ ྀི New Mail(!) — Author Says It’s Tiny Head

ദ്ദി ≽^⎚˕⎚^≼ .ᐟ, 𝜗𝜚 ➜ ྀི new mail(!) — author says it’s tiny head canon time!! Remember all head canons are gender neutral unless specified. Ummm I don’t think its Gn idk check in like an hour im still overseeing it

—- ദ്ദി ≽^⎚˕⎚^≼ .ᐟ, 𝜗𝜚 ᯓ (ʚɞ) Damian Wayne x clingy yapper reader. Usual trigger warnings.

.☘︎ ݁˖ Damian for sure will listen to you yap wether it’s doing homework whilst listening to you or you sitting near him and fiddling with each other whilst you yap. he doesn’t care where he is as long as you are near and happy he’s happy.

.☘︎ ݁˖ he doesn’t show he cares but when he does it’s in the most subtle ways, trying to figure out why you like a certain show/movie or a character basically your interest. He will try to understand so conversations will turn into more of a

— “you know that’s my favorite character in the entire world!”

— “even when they died?”

— “how do you know that?”

He prefers to engage then sit there and say “mhm” and move on. He wants you to know that he’s listening.

.☘︎ ݁˖on days where you don’t have school it’s usually spent laying on a bed, you yapping whilst he gently pats your head. He was first unaccustomed to touching your head and body when you guys first started dating but he learned to be more comfortable it got to a point where he just has his hand on you somewhere.

.☘︎ ݁˖ doesn’t, and will never show his vulnerability infront of his brothers or anyone that doesn’t matter to him personally on a deeper level, so basically you. He hates showing how soft he is to you because then he just seems like a love stricken boy, no he’s a sickly yearning in love boy and to him it wasn’t puppy love. He always treated the relationship very seriously he treated it as if you were the only person in the world who mattered when you spoke.

.☘︎ ݁˖ when he’s on a mission or in a class you guys don’t share or you’re sick and can’t call all he can think of is are they ok?” It got to a point where he made his brothers do a stake out with him when you said you were going to have a sleepover.

.☘︎ ݁˖ he wouldn’t date someone younger or older than him, in years anyways. In months if you’re younger he would take every chance just to say “I’m older than you so you have to listen to me.” It’s like him using his senior citizenship.. if you’re older than I feel like he just would treat it as it as and move on.

.☘︎ ݁˖ when he’s listens to you talk at dinner or whenever your eating, he stops eating sometimes just so he can add a comment to what you said to him.

139 notes View Post

bbsaeko

2 months ago

Gilded Cage part two

featuring. Ekko x fem!reader

wc. 15k

synopsis. Born from house Arvino, one of the richest and influential families of piltover. You had it all from luxurious gifts, fancy meals, a magnificent bedroom and much more. You're parents gave you everything you asked for. However still never satisfied you. You're mind always looked at the injustice and suffering zaun was going through. That's when you first met ekko, the firelights' leader. Not very happy to have a pilty messing stuff up.

trope. "enemies to lovers"

warnings. slow burn, cursing, blood, drugs, kissing, death!, suggestive, kinda grinding against each other (clothed tho), angst

requested. by anon

a/n. it's more like enemies to friends to lovers (sorry) let me know if there’s any mistakes so i may fix it.

Darkness. An oppressive, suffocating void that seemed to stretch endlessly. You floated in its cold embrace, weightless yet crushingly burdened by the weight of your own thoughts. Memories flickered like dying embers, elusive and fragmentary. You could barely recall where you had been, what had happened, or how you had ended up here. The edges of recollection teased you: Ekko’s voice, steady and warm, calling your name. The heavy press of bodies at the Last Drop, the tang of alcohol mingling with smoke. Then a sharp, searing sting in your neck—and the world spiraling into oblivion. Now, you were adrift, lost in a sea of disjointed images and emotions.

Your mind was an unrelenting storm, twisting and turning with fears and insecurities you thought you had buried long ago. The sound of Margot’s cruel laughter cut through the fog like a blade, her words threading through your subconscious like venom. “He doesn’t care about you,” her voice echoed, dark and mocking. “You’re nothing to him.” You wanted to fight against it, but the darkness clung to you, invasive, as it dragged you deeper. Somewhere, faint and distant, there were voices that were sharp and unfamiliar. They seemed to be arguing, but the words were muffled.

“She’s worth more alive,” one voice said, cutting through the haze like a knife, dragging you closer to consciousness.

“Though, Dead might be less trouble,” another replied, cold and indifferent, a tone that sent a shiver of dread down your spine.

The words clawed at the edges of your awareness, snapping you back toward the surface of reality. Your body felt heavy, impossibly sluggish, but you fought against the pull of unconsciousness with everything you had. It was as if your mind and body were at war, one was desperate to wake up and the other held captive by a paralyzing weight. Slowly, agonizingly, your eyes fluttered open, and the harsh glare of a fluorescent light stabbed into your vision.

The room around you was cold and unforgiving, bathed in the sterile glow of artificial lighting that illuminated every inch of its metallic surfaces. The air was damp, heavy with the scent of rust and oil, and beneath it all lingered something acrid and chemical, clinging to your nostrils like a warning. The faint hum of machinery thrummed in the background, a low, ominous noise that seemed to vibrate through your very bones. You tried to move, but your arms were pinned to the cold metal chair beneath you, thick leather straps biting into your wrists. A matching set bound your ankles, and as you tested the restraints, they didn’t budge an inch.

A spike of panic shot through you as the reality of your situation set in. Your breath came faster, shallow and uneven, as your eyes darted around the room. The Chem Barons loomed before you, seated around an oval table at the far end of the room. The glow from the monitors lining the walls illuminated their faces, casting their expressions in stark relief. Each face was a mask of greed, malice, and twisted amusement, their eyes gleaming with predatory intent as they spoke about you as though you weren’t even there.

“She’s valuable,” one of them said, his voice carrying a sickening undertone of satisfaction. “Alive, she’s worth a fortune to topside. They’ll pay anything to get their hands on her.”

“Dead might be easier to deal with,” another replied, leaning back in his chair with a shrug. “Still worth a decent haul. Less risk of her escaping, too.”

Your stomach churned as their words sank in. You were a prize to them, nothing more than a commodity to be traded for wealth and power. Every instinct screamed at you to fight, to get out, but the restraints held firm no matter how hard you pulled. Your breathing quickened as you struggled, the leather cutting into your skin, and the faint taste of blood rose in your throat.

“Ah, you’re awake.” The smooth, taunting voice cut through the air like a blade, and your gaze snapped to the woman standing at the table. Margot. Her presence was magnetic in the worst way, her movements deliberate and calculated as she leaned casually against the table, arms crossed over her chest. Her lips curled into a smirk, her eyes alight with cruel amusement as she studied you, like a predator toying with its prey.

“Well, well,” she said, pushing off the table and taking a slow step toward you. “The perfect little topsider, all tied up and helpless. Not so high and mighty now, are we?”

You glared at her, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a response, but the corner of her mouth twitched, as if she were amused by your defiance. She began to circle you, her heels clicking against the floor with each measured step, her presence oppressive and suffocating.

“Do you know where your little hero is right now?” she asked, her voice dripping with mockery. “Out there, playing the savior for Zaun. That’s his priority, isn’t it? Always has been. Zaun this. Zaun that.”

It seemed like the world around you shifted, like a bad dream slowly releasing its hold on you. And there it was, the overwhelming effects of the shimmer. Oh the pounding in your head, twisting of your thoughts, and voices echoing in your ears. Then it began to fade. It felt like dragging yourself out of quicksand, every inch a battle as clarity tried to surface through the chaos. Your breath came in shallow gasps, chest heaving as the purple haze in your vision began to lift.

Dim lights suffocated the room, illuminated by the faint flicker of old industrial lights dangling above. The Chem Barons lounged around the oval table, their laughter low and cruel as they watched your struggle with detached amusement. The factory scent in the air, mingled with the acrid sting of chemicals you didn’t want to identify.

Margot leaned casually against the table, twirling the now-empty syringe between her fingers with an air of smug satisfaction. Her lips curled into a grin that sent a wave of anger through you, though your body was too weak to act on it.

“Looks like you’re finally coming down,” she remarked, her tone almost conversational. “I’ll admit, I was worried for a moment there. Would’ve been a shame if you’d overdosed before we made use of you.”

You glared at her through the haze of exhaustion, your teeth clenched as you struggled to steady your breathing. “Go to hell,” you rasped, your voice hoarse and raw.

Margot chuckled, pushing off the table to approach you. “Feisty, even now. I like that,” she said, crouching in front of you so that her face was level with yours. Her eyes gleamed with twisted delight as she reached out, gripping your chin tightly between her fingers to force you to look at her.

“You’ve got spirit, I’ll give you that,” she murmured, her voice low and almost admiring. “But spirit won’t save you. You’re nothing more than a bargaining chip now.”

You jerked your head away from her grasp, the movement sharp despite the lingering weakness in your body. Margot let out an amused laugh as she stood, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Here’s the deal, sweetheart,” she began, her tone turning more like one of a businessman’s. “We hand you over to topside. You get to enjoy whatever punishment they’ve got waiting for you, and we get our prize money. It’s a win-win, really.” The other Chem Barons murmured their approval, the greed in their voices unmistakable.

You stared at her, your chest tightening with rage. “You really think I’d agree to that?” you spat, your voice laced with venom.

Margot shrugged, the corner of her mouth twitching into a mocking smirk. "Oh, I don't need your agreement, darling," she replied smoothly, her voice dripping with condescension. "I was just being polite by giving you the illusion of a choice. Hey, but maybe we can work something out. Give me something useful. A secret, a connection, something, and maybe I don't have to hand you over." Her words were a sick game, a mockery of negotiation. You weren't stupid; you knew she had no intention of letting you go freely. Your anger bubbled over as you leaned forward as much as your restraints allowed, glaring daggers at her.

"I'll see you rot before I help you," you growled, the force of your words surprising even yourself.

Margot's expression darkened, and the smirk fell from her face. For a moment, there was silence, tension crackling in the air like static. Then, without warning, she lashed out, slapping you hard across the face. The sharp sting of her hand against your cheek was enough to make your head whip to the side.

"Stupid girl," she hissed, her voice low and venomous. "You think you have power here? You think you get to decide anything?" She took a step back, reaching into her pocket and pulling out another syringe.

Your stomach dropped as you saw the familiar glow of shimmer inside it, brighter and more concentrated than before.

"No-no, don't," you stammered, panic setting in as she approached.

"Don't what?" she mocked, her grin returning with a sadistic edge. "You already made your choice. Let's see if we can loosen that sharp tongue of yours."

Before you could protest further, she plunged the needle into your neck. Pain shot through your body as the shimmer flooded your veins, an uncontrollable heat spreading through your limbs. You let out a scream, your vision blurring as the drug took hold. The world tilted on its axis, the edges of reality fraying as hallucinations crept in. The Chem Barons' laughter grew distorted, their faces warping into monstrous visages. The room seemed to shrink and expand simultaneously, and the voices in your head (the ones you thought had faded) came roaring back with a vengeance.

You clawed at the arms of the chair, your nails digging into the metal as you tried to anchor yourself. Your heart pounded so loudly in your chest that it felt like it might burst, and your breathing became erratic.

Margot's voice cut through the chaos, taunting and cruel. "Look at you, squirming like a cornered animal. It's almost poetic."

Your restraints clicked open suddenly, and you stumbled forward, barely catching yourself before hitting the ground. Margot stood over you, her hands on her hips as she sneered down at your trembling form.

"We're taking you topside," she announced, her tone laced with finality.

"Dead or alive, you're worth the same. But I think I prefer you like this, completely broken and barely holding on. It'll make the handoff more entertaining."

Two of her lackeys stepped forward, gripping you under your arms and hauling you to your feet. Your legs wobbled beneath you, the shimmer wreaking havoc on your motor control. The world spun violently as they began dragging you toward the door, your head lolling as you tried and failed to stay upright. Harsh sunlight hit your face like someone slapped you as they pulled you outside. The brightness was disorienting, and you squinted against it, your head throbbing. Air, heavy with the industrial tang of Zaun, and the sounds of machinery mixed with voices. Enforcers.

Ahead, you could see the bridge leading topside, a line of Enforcers waiting at the end with rifles slung over their shoulders. The sight sent a fresh wave of panic through you, and you thrashed weakly in the Chem Barons' grip.

"Let me go," you slurred, your voice barely above a whisper.

Margot walked alongside you, her expression one of smug satisfaction. "Save your strength," she advised mockingly. "You'll need it to grovel when you're thrown at the feet of the Council."

The closer you got to the bridge, the harder your heart pounded. You were barely holding on, your mind teetering on the edge of madness as the shimmer coursed through you. The voices in your head screamed louder, with the fear and anger that threatened to drown you.

Margot leaned in close, her breath hot against your ear as she whispered "Don't worry, sweetheart. This is just the beginning." You gritted your teeth, determination flickering within you despite the haze.

The journey to Piltover’s inner walls was a blur of pain and exhaustion. Your legs refused to hold you, the shimmer coursing through your veins wreaking havoc on your body. Every step felt like a battle, your limbs trembling as Margot’s goons dragged you forward. The bright sunlight burned your eyes, and the Piltover’s bustling streets added to your disorientation. All of the voices of the enforcers were sharp as they spoke to Margot, thanking her and her men.

“Good work,” one of the officers said, his tone almost bored. “Your payment will be processed soon. We’ll take it from here.”

Margot smirked, her victory evident in her smug posture. She leaned close to you one last time, her voice a low whisper meant only for your ears.

“Enjoy the next chapter, darling,” she sneered. “If you survive, maybe we’ll cross paths again.”

You didn’t have the strength to respond. Instead, you slumped further as the Enforcers took hold of you, their grip cold. You tried to plant your feet, to resist, but your body betrayed you. Your knees buckled, and they dragged you forward without hesitation.

Piltovers inner walls loomed ahead, their pristine white stone a stark contrast to the grime and chaos of Zaun. Everything was suffocating, the streets lined with polished brass and bustling citizens who barely glanced your way. The shimmer made it hard to focus, your vision swimming with colors and shadows that didn’t belong.

By the time you reached the Council building, you were on the verge of collapse. The Enforcers hauled you through the ornate doors, their boots echoing loudly against the marble floors. Of course the air would be cold and sterile, filled with the murmur of voices and hurried footsteps as people passed by.

They led you into the grand council chamber, its circular design intimidating and imperial. The room was bathed in warm light from the massive stained-glass windows, depicting Piltover’s history in vibrant detail. At the center was the imposing council table, its surface polished to a mirror shine, where Ambessa Medarda sat like a queen upon her throne.

Beside her were your parents. Your father’s expression was like stone, his cold eyes fixed straight ahead. He didn’t even glance at you as the Enforcers placed you in one of the chairs facing the council. Your mother, on the other hand, was a picture of worry, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Her eyes were wide as they took you in, darting over your disheveled appearance and the faint glow of shimmer in your irises. The moment the Enforcers stepped back, your mother rushed to your side. Her arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a hug so tight it left you breathless.

“My sweet child,” she murmured, her voice trembling with emotion. “I was so worried about you.”

You barely had the strength to return the embrace, but her warmth was a calming sensation to your anxious nerves. She pulled back just enough to press a kiss to your forehead, her hands cupping your face as she searched your eyes.

“What have they done to you?” she whispered, her voice breaking. Her gaze landed on the faint pink glow in your irises, and you saw her expression shift from relief to horror. “Shimmer…” she breathed, her voice barely audible.

Her hands faltered for a moment before she composed herself, but the fear lingered in her eyes. She sat down next to you, her presence a small comfort despite the chaos raging within you. Your father, meanwhile, remained motionless, his gaze fixed ahead as if you weren’t even there. His indifference cut deeper than you expected, and your heart sank. He doesn’t care. He never has.

Ambessa’s voice rang out, commanding and unyielding, but the pounding in your head made it impossible to focus on her words. Your mother nudged you gently, her worried expression urging you to pay attention.

“Listen,” she whispered softly, but her voice carried an undertone of dread.

You blinked, forcing yourself to focus on Ambessa. Her sharp eyes bore into you as she spoke, her words cutting through the haze.

“You have become a liability,” she declared, her voice devoid of sympathy. “A danger to the order and stability of Piltover. It is the council’s decision that you be sent to Stillwater Hold immediately.”

Your stomach dropped, the weight of her words crashing down on you like a tidal wave. Stillwater Hold, the maximum security, isolation, a prison for those too dangerous to be allowed freedom.

“No,” you muttered, shaking your head weakly. “No, you can’t—”

“This is not up for debate,” Ambessa interrupted coldly, rising to her feet. Her imposing figure seemed to tower over you, her presence suffocating. “You will be placed in isolation, cut off from all outside contact. Perhaps there, you will have time to reflect on your mistakes.”

Your mother’s hand gripped yours tightly, her knuckles white. She looked as if she wanted to speak, to protest, but no words came. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and you could see the conflict in her eyes.

Your father, however, barely reacted. He simply stood, his face betraying a flicker of surprise, but nothing more.

As Ambessa turned to leave, the Enforcers moved forward to restrain you once again. Panic clawed at your chest, your mind racing with the implications of her decree. You would be alone, cut off from everything and everyone you cared about. The thought of never seeing Ekko again made your heart ache, but then Margot’s words crept back into your mind.

He doesn’t care about you. He only cares about Zaun. But did he?

You shook your head, trying to dispel the doubt, but it lingered like a shadow. The Enforcers’ hands were rough as they pulled you to your feet, and your mother’s grip slipped away.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice cracking as you looked at her. “Don’t let them do this.”

The hallway outside the council chambers was dimly lit, while there was golden glow coming from the chamber’s interior. The walls were lined with brass and marble, their polished surfaces catching faint reflections of the soldiers escorting you. Their grip was unyielding as they dragged you forward, your legs barely able to cooperate. Your body felt heavy, a dull ache spreading through your muscles, but the shimmer in your veins still faintly there. Almost like a silent threat waiting to be unleashed. Unpredictable.

Your mother walked alongside you, her hand clinging tightly to yours as if her touch alone could anchor you in this moment. Her face was pale, her eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears. Her lips trembled as she tried to speak, her voice choked by the emotions roiling within her.

“You can’t do this to them,” she pleaded to the soldiers, her words soft but desperate. “They’re not a danger—they’re my daughter.”

The soldiers didn’t respond, their expressions stoic. They marched forward with mechanical precision, their polished armor clinking faintly with each step. You glanced over your shoulder at your mother, her hand tightening around yours as if she sensed the impending separation.

“Please,” she begged, her voice cracking. “Let me—”

Her words were cut off as the soldiers abruptly stopped, their grip on you tightening. One of them turned to her, his expression a mix of irritation and indifference.

“Ma’am, please step back,” he ordered firmly.

“No,” your mother said, her voice rising in defiance. “I won’t let you take my daughter!”

The soldier’s hand moved to pry hers away from yours, but she held on tighter, her knuckles white. Her desperation was palpable, each of her movements fueled by love and fear.

“Mother,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “It’s okay—”

However, it wasn’t okay and it never would be. With being over dramatic that they would send someone to prison just for being a kind person. What kind of society was piltover, and how you could’ve been so blind.

The soldier’s patience snapped, and he moved to forcibly remove your mother’s hand from yours. The moment he yanked at her wrist, something inside you cracked. All the shimmer that had been bubbling beneath the surface roared to life, seeping in your veins. Heat spread through your body, the sensation almost euphoric.

Before you could think, your body moved on instinct. With a feral growl, you jerked free from the soldiers’ grasp. Your fists flew before you realized what you were doing, one striking the soldier nearest to you with a sickening thud. He staggered back, his helmet clattering to the ground, and you turned on the second soldier with the same ferocity. The shimmer gave you strength you didn’t recognize, each movement fluid and devastating. Your fist collided with the second soldier’s chest plate, sending him stumbling backward into the marble wall with a dull clang. You could feel your heart hammering in your chest, the shimmer’s intoxicating power coursing through you. The sensation was overwhelming, your limbs felt lighter, faster, and yet there was a wildness to it all, a lack of control that frightened you even as it exhilarated you.

Turning back, you stumbled into your mother’s arms, clutching her tightly as though holding her could tether you to the world and keep the chaos at bay. Her arms wrapped around you immediately, her warmth and familiar scent grounding you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice breaking as tears burned at your eyes. “I don’t know if I’ll see you again.”

“You will,” she said firmly, her hands gripping your face to make you look at her. Tears streaked down her cheeks, but her gaze was resolute. “I’ll find a way. I swear to you.”

Her promise felt like a fragile thread in the storm raging inside you. You wanted to believe her, but every step you’d taken since leaving Zaun seemed to lead only to destruction and despair. The sound of heavy footsteps broke the moment, and you turned to see your father striding toward the chaos, his expression carved in stone. His cold eyes scanned the scene: the soldiers disarmed and you clinging to your mother. His lips twisted into a sneer of disgust.

“Enough of this display,” he snapped, his voice laced with venom. “You’re embarrassing yourself, woman.”

Your mother flinched at his tone, her grip on you tightening as though she could shield you from his words. “They’re our daughter!” she shot back, her voice trembling with emotion. “How can you stand there and act like they mean nothing to you?”

“They don’t,” your father said flatly, his gaze flicking to you as if you were a mere inconvenience. “They’ve chosen to align themselves with filth, with criminals. They’ve disgraced this family, and I will not tolerate it.”

His words hit you like a physical blow, and your grip on your mother faltered. The shimmer inside you pulsed violently, responding to your rising anger. You could feel it clawing at the edges of your mind, urging you to lash out, to fight back.

“I never chose this,” you spat, your voice trembling with rage. “You abandoned me long before I ever set foot in Zaun.”

Your father’s eyes narrowed, and he stepped forward, pulling your mother away from you with a firm hand. She resisted, but his grip was unyielding, dragging her back as she cried out in protest.

“Let her go!” you shouted, lunging toward them, but the shimmer’s effects were waning, leaving your body weak and unsteady.

The soldiers had recovered by now, and they seized you once more, their grips like iron. You struggled, but the strength you’d felt moments ago was gone, replaced by an aching exhaustion.

“Take them away,” your father ordered coldly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Father, please—”

“You are no child of mine,” he said, cutting you off.

His words echoed in your ears as the soldiers dragged you away, your mother’s cries fading into the distance. Your heart felt like it was shattering in your chest, each beat a reminder of how alone you were. All of the halls blurred around you as you were pulled toward your fate. The shimmer’s residual effects made the world feel surreal, the edges of your vision tinged with purple. Your thoughts spiraled, looping back to the same unbearable truth: no one was coming to save you.

And yet, somewhere deep inside, a flicker of defiance remained. The shimmer may have weakened, but it had left something behind. A burning determination not to let them break you. Never.

As you were led toward the transport that would take you to Stillwater, you clenched your fists, vowing to fight for every chance to escape, for every moment to prove them wrong. Whatever happened next, you would not give up. Not yet.

There were occasional crackle of old, sparking wires however the hideout was quiet. It should’ve been comforting, this kind of silence, which was a rare occurrence. But it wasn’t. It never would be, not with you missing.

Ekko sat hunched over his desk in the corner of the workshop, his head resting in his hands. The glow of the green light hanging above cast harsh shadows across his face, emphasizing the exhaustion etched into his features. He hadn’t slept in days. He didn’t have the luxury of rest, not while you were out there somewhere, alone. Or worse. Dead.

The thought of what could be happening to you tightened his chest. It wasn’t like you to not come back without a word, and the reality of your disappearance had hit him like a freight train. He could still see you in his mind, sitting across the room from him with that subtle smirk you always wore when teasing him. You were always a little guarded, but he could read the warmth in your eyes when you let your guard down around him. That warmth haunted him now.

He slammed a fist down on the table, rattling a collection of discarded tools and blueprints. “Damn it,” he muttered under his breath.

The door to the hideout creaked open, and Scar stepped inside, his boots clicking softly against the floor. He didn’t bother with pleasantries, he knew better than to try when Ekko was like this.

“Any word?” he asked without looking up, his voice clipped.

Scar hesitated. “Not good news.”

Ekko turned his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Spit it out.”

Scar exhaled, crossing his arms. “Word on the street is there’s a bounty on their head. Big money, too. Dead or alive.”

For a moment, all he could hear was the blood pounding in his ears. He shot to his feet, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “What?” His voice was a mix of disbelief and fury.

“You heard me,” Scar said, his tone softer now. “Ambessa is the one behind it. And who else would want that good amount of money other that the chem-barons. So if I had to bet…”

“Margot,” Ekko growled, the name leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as anger surged through him.

“Yeah,” Scar said. “She’s got her hands in everything these days. If anyone’s got the resources to snatch someone up, it’s her.”

Ekko couldn’t think. He grabbed the edge of the desk and flipped it in one violent motion, sending tools, papers, and scraps of metal crashing to the floor. Scar didn’t flinch. He’d seen him lose his temper before, though never like this.

“They took my friend!” he shouted, his voice cracking. “They were safe, or at least I thought they were. I should’ve—” He stopped himself, pacing back and forth like a caged animal.

“You couldn’t have known,” Scar said cautiously.

“I should’ve kissed them when I had the chance,” Ekko muttered bitterly, his voice barely audible.

Scar raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by his admission. “Wait, you mean—”

“Don’t,” Ekko interrupted sharply, his jaw tightening. He didn’t need his commentary, not now.

Scar sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, boss, I get it. You care about them. We all do. And tearing yourself apart isn’t gonna bring them back. You need to focus.”

“I am focused,” Ekko snapped, his eyes blazing. “I’ve been doing everything I can to find them. I’ve been working nonstop! But every second that goes by, they could be—” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

Scar stepped closer, his voice softening. “We’ll find them, Ekko.”

Ekko turned away from his second-in-command, his shoulders slumping. The weight of his responsibilities as a leader, as someone who cared about you more than he was willing to admit, was crushing him. He thought back to all the moments he could’ve told you how he felt. How he should’ve told you. Now, he might never get the chance.

“Do we have any leads?” he asked after a long silence, his voice low.

“Nothing solid,” Scar admitted. “But I’ll keep digging. And so will the others.”

Ekko nodded, though his mind was elsewhere. If Margot had you, then time was running out. He’d seen what the chem-barons were capable of, how they toyed with their captives before discarding them like garbage. The thought of you in their clutches made his stomach churn. He clenched his fists again, his knuckles white.

As Scar left to rally the others, Ekko sat back down amidst the chaos he’d created, staring at the mess of blueprints and tools scattered across the floor. He picked up a small gadget you’d been working on before you disappeared. It was a half-finished invention with wires sticking out at odd angles.

He turned it over in his hands, a lump forming in his throat. You were always so brilliant, so determined to make a difference in this broken city. How could he have let this happen to you?

“I’ll find you,” he whispered to himself, his voice trembling. “No matter what it takes, I’ll bring you back.” The promise felt hollow in the silence of the room, but it was all he had.

Smoky air filled around the abandoned factory that thick with decay, the scent of rust and mildew clinging to the walls like an oppressive fog. Inside, the dim light of a single hanging bulb swung precariously, casting jagged shadows across the cavernous space. Crates were scattered haphazardly, some half-opened to reveal pilfered goods and shimmer vials, their contents glowing faintly. Laughter and the clink of glasses echoed faintly, a mocking contrast to the somber silence of the building’s other corners.

Ekko crouched in the shadows near a crumbling brick wall, his mask concealing his expression but failing to hide the fury radiating from him. His staff was collapsed and strapped to his back, ready to be wielded at a moment’s notice. He had been tracking Margot’s operations for days, every lead bringing him closer to you. This factory, this desolate place reeking of despair, was supposed to be your last known location.

Inside, three men sat around a makeshift table fashioned from a wooden pallet and a few stacked crates. They were laughing uproariously, playing cards, and passing a bottle of cheap wine between them. Their demeanor was casual, careless. They had no reason to suspect that death itself was crouched a few feet away, waiting.

Ekko’s fingers flexed over the edge of the wall, the faint creak of leather gloves breaking the ambient noise. The goons’ laughter paused, one of them squinting into the shadows. “You hear that?” he muttered, his hand hovering near his knife.

Ekko stepped into the light, his mask catching the faint glow of the overhead bulb. His posture was relaxed, almost casual, but his presence was anything but. The sight of him was enough to make the men freeze, their drunken haze evaporating in an instant.

“Don’t move,” Ekko said, his voice low and cold, like the steel of a blade. He tilted his head slightly, a predatory gesture that sent shivers down their spines. “I’ve got questions, and you’re going to answer them. If you try to run, you won’t get far.”

One of the men, the burliest of the three, leaned back in his chair with a forced laugh, trying to mask his unease. “Questions, huh? You don’t look like an enforcer, kid. What do you want from us?”

Ekko’s fingers twitched, but he kept his composure. “Where is she?”

“Who?” another man asked, feigning ignorance as he leaned forward, his greasy smile exposing yellowed teeth. “We’ve got a lot of ‘shes’ around here. You’ll have to be more specific.”

Ekko took a slow step forward, the sound of his boots deliberate and sharp against the concrete floor. “Don’t play dumb. The girl you took. The one Margot had dragged out of Zaun. Where is she?”

The men exchanged glances, their bravado faltering under the weight of Ekko’s presence. But it wasn’t fear that made them hesitate, it was cruelty. Disgusting.

“Oh,” the burly man said, a slow grin spreading across his face. “You mean your little girlfriend. Didn’t think a leader like you would be so sentimental. What’s it like, knowing Margot’s had her claws in her?”

Ekko’s grip on his staff tightened, though he didn’t extend it. Not yet. “She’s not my girlfriend,” he said, his voice like gravel. “… She’s under my protection, which means you’ve made a very big mistake.”

The third man, younger than the others and visibly more nervous, chuckled weakly. “Margot did more than protect her. Injected her full of shimmer. Changed her forever.” He leaned back, the chair creaking beneath him. “You should’ve heard her screaming. Begging for it to stop.”

Ekko’s vision got blurred. He didn’t remember crossing the room, but suddenly his hand was around the throat of the younger man, slamming him against the wall with a force that made the other two jump to their feet.

“I said sit down!” Ekko roared, his voice echoing through the factory like a thunderclap. The other two hesitated, their bravado crumbling as they realized just how dangerous this masked vigilante was. Slowly, they lowered themselves back into their seats, though their hands hovered near their weapons.

Ekko released the younger man, letting him crumple to the ground in a coughing heap. He turned his attention to the burly one, his body radiating barely contained rage.

“You think this is funny?” Ekko asked, his voice low and menacing. “You think I won’t rip this place apart to find her?”

“Relax, kid,” the burly man said, though his voice wavered. “You’re not a killer. Everyone knows that.”

Ekko smirked beneath his mask, though there was no humor in it. “You’re right. I’m not. But I don’t need to kill you to make you wish you were dead.”

With a flick of his wrist, he extended his staff and brought it down on the man’s hand with bone-shattering force. The sickening crunch was followed by a howl of pain, and the man clutched his mangled hand to his chest, tears streaming down his face.

“Now,” Ekko said, his voice icy. “Where. Is. She?”

The younger man scrambled to his knees, babbling incoherently. “She’s—she’s gone! Taken to Piltover! The boss wanted to claim the prize money! Please, man, that’s all I know!”

Ekko turned to him, his eyes burning with fury. “Where in Piltover?”

“I don’t know!” the man cried, his hands raised in surrender. “I swear, I don’t know! They took her meet ambessa at the council meeting! That’s all we heard before they left!”

Ekko studied him for a long moment, then stepped back, his staff retracting with a metallic click. “If I find out you’re lying,” he said coldly, “I’ll be back. And you won’t like what happens next.”

He turned and disappeared into the shadows, his heart pounding in his chest. The factory’s silence returned, but Ekko’s mind was anything but quiet.

You were in Piltover. That much he knew. But the thought of what they might be doing to you, how far they’d gone already, made his blood boil. He blamed himself for letting this happen, for not being there to stop it.

“I’ll find you,” he muttered under his breath as he stepped out of the factory. “No matter what it takes, I’ll bring you home.”

Shivering. The cold was the first thing you noticed. It crept into your bones and settled like a permanent ache, no matter how tightly you wrapped the thin blanket around yourself. The steel walls of your cell reflected nothing but your own hollow gaze, distorted in the warped metal like a ghost haunting itself. The dim, flickering light overhead buzzed incessantly, a monotonous drone that filled the silence.

Days bled into one another. Or were they weeks? Months? You couldn’t tell anymore. Food was delivered regularly, the plates piling up untouched on the small tray by the door. Hunger gnawed at your stomach, but the idea of eating felt impossible. It reminded you of before, of when Ekko had kissed you, then left you in an agonizing limbo of uncertainty.

Back then, you had at least been free. You could wander through Zaun, trying to escape the heartache in the neon haze of the Undercity. Now, there was no escape. No Ekko. No freedom. Just you and the cold steel cage that held you prisoner.

You sat on the edge of the cot, knees pulled to your chest, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself. The shimmer coursing through your veins was a cruel reminder of what had been done to you. It pulsed like molten fire, burning and twisting your thoughts. Your body ached, muscles spasming unpredictably, leaving you weak and trembling.

The voices were the worst. They came in waves, some screaming accusations, others whispering taunts.

“He’s forgotten you.”

“You’re nothing but a burden.”

“This is what you deserve.”

“Shut up!” you yelled, pressing your palms to your ears. But they didn’t stop. Instead, they multiplied.

“You’ll never see him again.”

“He’s better off without you.”

“You’re better off dead.”

Tears spilled from your eyes, hot against the cold air, as you rocked back and forth. You hated yourself for crying, for being weak, for breaking under their weight. But there was no one here to tell you otherwise. No one to hold you and say it would be okay.

You slammed the back of your head against the wall behind you, the dull thud grounding you for only a moment before the spiral began again. The sobs came harder now, wracking your body as you curled into yourself.

“Leave me alone,” you begged the voices, but they only laughed in response. And then, faintly, you heard something else.

“Hey!” The voice echoed down the corridor outside your cell, distant but distinct. Your head snapped up, your breath hitching as you strained to listen.

“Who’s there?” you croaked, your throat dry and raw from disuse.

The faint sound of footsteps grew louder, steady and purposeful. You squinted into the dim hallway, trying to make out the figure approaching the barred door.

“Leave me alone!” you cried again, shaking your head, convinced it was another hallucination. The shimmer had twisted your mind before; why would now be any different?

But the figure didn’t fade. Instead, it became clearer. Taller. Familiar. The scent of machine oil and faint traces of herbs reached you before the figure did, stirring something deep in your chest. Your heart raced as the figure came closer, the flickering light catching on the unmistakable outline of his goggles, his scarf, the curve of his jaw.

“Ekko?” you whispered, gripping the railing of your cot as you pulled yourself to your feet.

The figure stopped just beyond the bars, his hands curling around them as he leaned forward. “It’s me,” he said softly, his voice trembling with emotion.

“No,” you said, shaking your head violently. “You’re not real. You’re just—just another trick!”

“I’m real,” he said, his voice firmer now. “It’s me. See! Look at me.”

You stumbled forward, your legs weak and unsteady, until you reached the door. Your hands gripped the cold metal bars, your eyes searching his face for any hint of deception. But there was none.

“Ekko,” you breathed, tears streaming down your cheeks.

His hand covered yours, warm and grounding. “Hi,” he whispered, his voice thick with relief.

You choked on a sob, your knees buckling as you slid down to the floor. “You’re really here?”

“I’m here,” he said, his other hand slipping through the bars to brush a stray tear from your cheek. “In the flesh.”

You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his palm against your skin a stark contrast to the cold that had consumed you for so long. “I thought…” You hiccupped, struggling to form the words. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

“I thought the same,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I wasn’t going to stop until I found you.”

Your fingers tightened around his, desperate to hold onto him, to convince yourself that this wasn’t just another cruel trick of your mind. “They said… they said you forgot me.”

“Never,” he said fiercely, his hand gripping yours with equal intensity. “Not even for a split second.”

You buried your face against the bars, your shoulders shaking as the tears came harder. “I’m terrified, Ekko,” you whispered. “I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

“You’re real,” he said, his forehead resting against yours through the bars. “I’m real. And I’m getting you out of here.”

His words wrapped around you like a lifeline, anchoring you to the moment. For the first time in weeks, the voices fell silent. All you could hear was the steady beat of his heart and the unspoken vow in his gaze.

The air in Stillwater Hold was suffocating, thick with the acrid scent of damp metal and the faint tang of saltwater. The dim, flickering lights overhead buzzed like angry insects, casting ghostly shadows on the cold steel walls. Ekko stood outside your cell, gripping the large brass key in his hand, his knuckles white with tension. His mask obscured most of his face, but his eyes burned with fierce determination.

He glanced at you through the bars, his heart breaking at the sight of your frail form. You looked so much smaller than he remembered, your skin pale and your frame too thin. The shimmer’s effects were evident in the faint tremors in your hands and the shadows beneath your eyes, but there was still a spark in your gaze, a fragile but unyielding fire.

He took a steadying breath and inserted the key into the lock, his movements quick but not careless. The lock groaned in protest, a sharp metallic screech echoing in the corridor.

“How did you get that?” you asked, your voice hoarse but laced with curiosity.

Ekko’s lips twitched into a small smirk, though the weight of the moment kept it from fully forming. “Long story,” he said, his tone light but tinged with weariness. He didn’t elaborate, and you didn’t press him. You could tell from the shadows in his eyes that whatever he’d done to get here hadn’t been easy.

He jiggled the key, muttering a low curse under his breath. “Of course, it has to be the trickiest damn lock in the whole place,” he murmured. You almost laughed at his frustration, the sound foreign and strange in this place of despair.

Finally, with a heavy clunk, the lock gave way, and the cell door creaked open. Before Ekko could fully process his success, you surged forward, throwing yourself into his arms with all the strength you could muster. The momentum knocked him off balance, and the two of you tumbled to the cold floor, his back hitting the ground with a dull thud.

“Whoa!” he exclaimed, the breath knocked out of him for a moment. But then his arms tightened around you instinctively, cradling you against his chest as though you might disappear if he let go.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, your thin arms clinging to him desperately. “Don’t let me go,” you choked out, your voice muffled against his shoulder.

“Of course not,” he whispered, his voice breaking as his hand slid up to cradle the back of your head. He felt how much lighter you were, how your ribs pressed against him like fragile bird bones. It was like holding a shadow of the person he remembered, and it made his chest ache with guilt and sorrow.

Your tears soaked into his scarf as you cried harder, your sobs wracking your frail body. “I thought—I thought I’d never see you again,” you stammered, your words broken by hiccups. “I thought I was going to die here.”

Ekko tightened his hold on you, his jaw clenched so hard it ached. “Not a chance,” he said fiercely, his voice trembling despite his best efforts to stay strong. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your tear-streaked face inches from his. “I missed you so much,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re the only thing that kept me going.”

His breath hitched, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. The raw emotion in your voice cut through him like a knife, and he cursed himself for not finding you sooner. “Well no need to worry now,” he said finally, his voice low and steady. “Im never going to leave your side”

Your arms tightened around him as if you were afraid he might vanish. “I’m never letting you go again,” you vowed, your voice trembling but resolute.

“I wouldn’t let you if you tried,” he replied softly, his lips brushing against your temple as he held you close.

As the flood of emotions began to ebb, a small, almost sheepish smile tugged at the corners of Ekko’s mouth. “By the way,” he said, his tone lightening just enough to catch your attention, “your mom’s got some stories.”

You blinked up at him, confused. “My mom?”

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. “Xerah Arvino. Fancy name, by the way. She’s got opinions, especially about me.”

You let out a weak laugh, the sound surprising both of you. “What did she say?”

“Oh, you know,” he said, his voice teasing. “She might’ve mentioned how you feel about me. Called you out, really.”

Your cheeks burned, the warmth of embarrassment cutting through the cold that had settled in your body for so long. “She didn’t,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible.

“Oh, she did,” he said, his smirk widening. “Guess she wanted to make sure I wasn’t oblivious.”

Despite your exhaustion, you managed a small laugh. “She’s always been… direct.”

“I like her,” Ekko admitted, his tone softening. “But you, Firefly…” He cupped your cheek gently, his thumb brushing away the lingering tears. “I knew. I’ve always known.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the weight of them settling over you like a warm blanket. “You did?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“How could I not?” he replied, his voice filled with equal parts affection and disbelief. “You’re my light in the dark. Always have been.”

The warmth of his gaze, the steadiness of his presence, filled the void inside you that had felt so bottomless. For the first time in what felt like forever, you believed you might actually be okay. You clung to him, burying your face in his chest as his hand stroked your back in soothing circles.

The inside of the air duct was surprisingly spacious, though its tight metallic walls didn’t leave much room for comfort. The hum of machinery vibrated through the structure, and the faint scent of oil and rust lingered in the air. Ekko’s hoverboard hummed softly beneath you, its energy signature blending seamlessly with the subdued mechanical symphony of Stillwater Hold.

“Hold on tight,” Ekko whispered, his voice low and cautious as he steadied the hoverboard under both your weight and his. His body was warm against yours, shielding you from the cold draft in the duct. You obeyed, gripping his waist tightly, your heart racing. Not only just from the escape but from the proximity, his warmth body against your own.

The hoverboard glided smoothly, its propulsion barely making a sound as Ekko maneuvered it through twists and turns. He had memorized the map of this place with a precision that made you marvel at his resourcefulness. You couldn’t help but wonder how many sleepless nights he’d spent planning this.

“Almost there,” he said, his voice steady but his grip on the hoverboard controls firm. His tone, though calm, carried the tension of someone who knew there was no room for error.

After what felt like an eternity, the dim blue light of the exit vent came into view. Ekko slowed the board and leaned forward, pressing a hand against the vent cover. It creaked slightly, and for a moment, you both froze, your breaths held. But when no alarms blared, he pushed harder, and the vent cover fell away, clattering onto the concrete outside.

“Ready?” he asked, glancing back at you.

You nodded, your heart pounding as adrenaline coursed through your veins. “Let’s go.”

With a quick adjustment, Ekko angled the hoverboard downward, the two of you sliding out of the duct and into the open air. The cold night breeze hit your face like a splash of water, a stark contrast to the stuffy air of the ducts. The stars twinkled above, unbothered by the chaos below, and for the first time in weeks, you felt the promise of freedom.

It took longer than expected to navigate back to your house. The ride was quiet, each of you lost in your thoughts, the weight of the escape pressing heavily on your shoulders. By the time you arrived, the familiar silhouette of the Arvino estate loomed before you, its elegant structure bathed in pale moonlight.

As you approached, panic flashed through your chest. “Ekko,” you said, your voice urgent. “What if someone sees us?”

“They won’t,” he assured you, his tone confident. “Trust me.”

He steered the hoverboard toward a thick cluster of vines that climbed the side of the house near your bedroom window. Landing softly on the grass, he helped you off the board and gestured toward the vines. “Think you can climb?”

You nodded, though your body was weak from weeks of confinement. His hands hovered near your waist, ready to catch you just in case you were to fall.

“I’ve got you,” he said, his voice soft but steady.

With his help, you made your way up the vines, the rough texture scratching at your hands. When you finally reached the windowsill, you pushed it open and climbed inside, tumbling onto the familiar softness of your room. Ekko followed quickly, landing with a quiet grace that made you roll your eyes at his ease.

The moment your feet hit the carpet, a deep sigh of relief escaped your lips. You turned and launched yourself onto the bed, burying your face in the comfort of your pillow. The softness cradled you, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt safe. Kicking your feet excitedly, you let out a laugh that was equal parts relief and joy. “I can’t believe we made it,” you said, your voice muffled by the pillow.

Ekko leaned against the wall, watching you with a soft smile. His arms were crossed, his frame relaxed for the first time all night. “You look happy,” he said, his tone teasing but his eyes warm.

You turned over, sitting up on the edge of the bed, your feet dangling just above the floor. “Happy doesn’t even begin to cover it,” you replied, your grin infectious. “I feel like I can breathe again.”

Ekko pushed off the wall and took a few steps toward you, his boots barely making a sound on the plush carpet. His smile remained, but there was something else in his eyes now. Love maybe?

Before you could process his movement, he leaned down, placing his hands on either side of you. The bed dipped slightly under his weight, and suddenly, he was so close you could feel the warmth radiating off him. His face was mere inches from yours, his breath brushing against your skin.

Your heart stuttered in your chest as his eyes traced your face, lingering on your lips. It was as if he was asking for permission without saying a word. “Hmm…” you whispered to yourself thinking about something, your voice barely audible.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze flicking back up to meet yours. “You okay?” he asked, his voice low, as though he was fighting to keep his composure.

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat. “Yeah. I just…”

“Just what?” he murmured, his lips quirking up in a small, teasing smile.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

But you couldn’t look away, couldn’t move, couldn’t think beyond the way his presence seemed to fill the room. Slowly, as though giving you every chance to pull away, he leaned closer. The world seemed to fade into the background: the room, the night, the fear and chaos of your escape, until there was only him. Standing infront of you, leaning so close that you could feel him breathe.

“Can I?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your lips parted, and you nodded, the motion almost imperceptible. And then his lips were on yours, gentle at first. But the moment your hand slid up to curl into his jacket, he deepened the kiss, his other hand moving to cup the side of your face. The weight of the world seemed to lift in that moment, replaced by a heat that consumed you, chased away the cold and the fear that had gripped you for so long.

Ekko’s breath was warm against your lips, and when he closed the gap between you, it felt like the world tilted on its axis. The kiss was soft at first, an unspoken confession of everything the two of you had held back for the last few months. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as if he needed to feel every inch of you against him to believe this was real. His lips moved with a desire that sent a shiver down your spine, his fingers gripping your hips as though he never wanted to let go. Your hands slid from his shoulders to his jawline, tracing the sharp angles of his face, grounding yourself in the reality of his handsome face.

"You're lips are so soft," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and thick with emotion.

"I could stay that about yours," you replied breathlessly letting out a small chuckle. Your forehead pressing against his as you both caught your breath.

His gaze locked onto yours, his eyes searching yours. "I don't think I'll ever get enough of this... of you," he admitted, his voice soft but passionate, as though he needed you to understand the depth of his feelings. Of how much he had felt for you ever since the two of you met.

You smiled, a shaky laugh escaping your lips. "Took you long enough to realize," you teased, though your tone was gentle, almost reverent.

His hands slid up your back, pressing you closer, and you could feel the rapid rhythm of his heartbeat through his chest. The air between you grew heavier, more charged, as the kiss became desperate. Your fingers threaded into his hair, tugging lightly, earning a low sound from him that sent a shiver racing down your spine. The need that had been simmering between you for so long now threatened to boil over, every touch and every breath. Adding to the fire between you further.

You shifted slightly, pressing yourself closer to him, and the sensation made your cheeks flush. His grip on your waist tightened in response, his other hand cupping the back of your neck as he angled your face to deepen the kiss. His movements were urgent but deliberate, like he was trying to memorize every second of this moment, every sound you made, every way your body fit against his.

Ekko's lips left yours, trailing along your jawline and down to your neck, his warm breath sending goosebumps over your skin. His fingers grazed the edge of your shirt, his touch featherlight but electrifying. "I love you," he murmured against your skin, his voice rough with restrained emotion. You tilted your head slightly, giving him better access as your hands slid down his back.

Ekko chuckled, leaning forward to press another kiss to your lips, this one slower and filled with something deeper. His hands never stopped moving, one tracing lazy circles on your back, the other brushing strands of hair from your face. This moment felt infinite, like the two of you had carved out a space that existed only for the two of you. It wasn't until the door suddenly swung open, flooding the room with light. Startled, you froze, your lips still brushing Ekko's, as you both turned to see Anya standing in the doorway. Her eyes widened as she took in the scene, and her hand flew to her mouth.

"Oh-oh my! I'm so sorry!" she stammered, her voice high-pitched with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to- I was just—"

Before either of you could respond, she quickly turned around, flicking the light off as she shut the door behind her with a hurried, "I'll come back later!"

The room went back into the darkness, the only light coming from the moon outside. You and Ekko stared at the closed door for a second, stunned into silence. Then Ekko broke into a quiet laugh. "Well, that's one way to ruin the mood," he said, looking back at you with a teasing glint in his eyes.

You buried your face in his shoulder, groaning in embarrassment. "I am never going to hear the end of this from her," you muttered, your voice muffled.

He laughed again, the sound vibrating through you as he wrapped his arms tighter around your waist. "Hey, at least she knows you're in good hands," he joked, leaning back slightly to meet your eyes.

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. "This isn't funny, Ekko!" you protested, though your tone was far too soft to be convincing.

"Come on," he said, brushing his nose against yours. "It's a little funny."

You couldn't help but laugh then, the tension breaking as you leaned against him, your forehead resting on his. Closing your eyes, the only sound was that of the wind outside.

The early morning light filtered softly through the cracks in the curtains, painting the room in muted hues of gold and pink. The air was still, and there was peace. Ekko’s arm draped securely around your waist as your head nestled against his chest. His warmth was a shield against the cold realities waiting just outside, and in his unconscious state, he held you as if you might disappear. The two of you had found sanctuary, one where, just for a few hours, the chaos of the world couldn’t touch you. The chaos that was caused by just wanting to help others.

That illusion shattered when the door creaked open, followed by the hurried, uneven shuffle of footsteps. The sound pulled Ekko from his slumber instantly. His eyes snapped open, his instincts sharper than ever, and he propped himself up on one elbow just as Anya stumbled into the room. Her hand clutched her stomach, blood seeping through her fingers and staining her dress in it. The sight of her broke through the last remnants of your sleep, and you sat up, a chill running down your spine.

“They… they took her,” Anya gasped, leaning heavily against the doorframe as she shut it behind her. Her voice was strained, trembling from pain and urgency. “Ambessa. She took your mother. They know… they know what she did.”

“Anya.” Ekko was on his feet in seconds, rushing to her side and steadying her before she could collapse. His voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed the panic swirling just beneath the surface. “What the hell happened? You’re hurt—sit down. Let me—”

“No!” Anya interrupted, her voice sharp despite the agony etched across her face. “There’s no time. They’ll come here next. You need to leave. Now.”

You stared at her, frozen in place. Her words echoed in your mind, but they felt distant, like they were coming from underwater. Your chest felt tight, your vision narrowing as her message sank in. Your mother. Taken. By Ambessa. It was too much, all of it crashing down like a wave threatening to drown you. You wanted to scream, cry, do something, but your body wouldn’t cooperate. You felt yourself disassociating, retreating into the safety of numbness that you once knew because facing this reality head on was unbearable. As soon as you try to catch a break, there’s always something ruining it. It was almost as if the universe didn’t want to you be happy.

Ekko’s voice broke through the haze. “We can’t just leave you like this!” he said, his frustration mounting as Anya winced and doubled over. He ripped a strip of cloth from his shirt and pressed it against her wound in an attempt to slow the bleeding. “Anya, stay with me. Where is she? Where did they take her?”

“I don't know,” Anya managed, her voice weakening as her knees buckled. “Ambessa… she’s going to lock her away somewhere. She knows what your mother did, how she helped you.” Her gaze shifted to you, her eyes glassy but full of determination. “You need to get out of here before they get here.”

You barely registered the words. The room around you seemed to spin, but you couldn’t focus on anything. Ekko glanced over his shoulder, concern etched across his face as he noticed your vacant expression. “Firefly,” he called softly, but there was no use. Your mind was blocking him completely.

He guided Anya to sit on the edge of the bed, his hands searching for something to stem the bleeding. “Who else was taken?” he asked, his voice steady despite the urgency in his movements.

“Just her,” Anya whispered, wincing as Ekko pressed a cloth against her wound. “I tried to stop them. I swear I did.” She glanced at you then, her eyes filled with an fear that mirrored your own. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t get to her.”

You heard the words, but they felt distant, like echoes in a tunnel. Your body moved on autopilot, standing and grabbing a bag, stuffing it with whatever essentials were nearby. Ekko was saying something to you, his voice low and firm, but the words seemed blurred together. It wasn’t until he placed his hands on your shoulders and forced you to meet his eyes that you realized he was trying to snap you out of it.

“Hey,” he said, his tone softening as he searched your face. “We’re getting out of here. You with me?”

You nodded mechanically, though your gaze drifted past him, your focus slipping again. Ekko hesitated, his brow furrowing as he studied you, but there was no time to dig deeper. He turned back to Anya, his jaw tightening. “We’ll get her back,” he promised, though the weight of his words hung heavy in the air.

Anya sat there bleeding out with her hand holding her stomach, sadly there was too much blood. This was it for her. Your maid the one who you’ve spend you entire childhood with. Playing dolls, hide and seek, how she would help you with your homework due to yours parents being busy with handling trade routes, businesses and being councilors. You thought of her as an older sister, and now she was gone. Dead. All thanks to Ambessa and your father. That worthless excuse of a father.

After everything that just happened, how were you suppose to enjoy anything. The journey back to the hideout was a blur to you, not even focusing on how you moved above everything. The streets of Piltover passed by in a haze of colors and shapes, the city slowly waking to another day. You stood behind Ekko on his hoverboard, your arms loosely wrapped around his waist, your body moving only when the board shifted beneath you. You didn’t speak, didn’t cry, didn’t even flinch when the wind whipped against your face. The world felt muted, like you were trapped in a dream you couldn’t wake from.

Ekko glanced over his shoulder at you more than once, he had a worried look on his face. He didn’t say anything, every time he caught a glimpse of your glowing pink eyes and their unnatural light, it was a reminder of the shimmer coursing through your veins. He cursed under his breath, his mind racing for a way to bring you back to yourself, to pull you from the darkness that seemed to be consuming you. Slowly dragging you deeper into something he may never be able to help you get out of.

By the time you reached the hideout, the sun was fully up, casting harsh shadows across the abandoned buildings that surrounded the hideout. Ekko helped you down from the hoverboard, his hands lingering on your arms as he steadied you. You didn’t resist, but you didn’t acknowledge him either. He led you inside, the familiar smell filling the air, and guided you to the bed he had made for you when you first arrived.

“Stay here,” he said gently, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll be right back.”

You sank onto the bed without a word, your gaze fixed on the floor. Ekko watched you for a moment, his heart aching at the sight of you so lifeless, so unlike the fiery, vibrant person he had fallen for. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration and helplessness bubbling beneath his calm exterior.

Hours passed in silence. The hideout was quiet, the usual activity softened as the other firelights gave you and Ekko space. He stayed close by, tinkering with gadgets and pretending not to watch you out of the corner of his eye. You remained in the same spot, your hands folded in your lap, your eyes staring into the middle of the wall.

As night fell, Ekko finally broke the silence. “You need to eat,” he said, setting a plate of food on the table near the bed.

You didn’t respond, and he sighed, pulling a chair closer to sit beside you. “Listen. I get it,” he said softly. “You feel like it’s all slipping away. Like nothing you do will change what’s happening. But sitting here, shutting down—that’s not you. That’s not the fighter I know.”

His words stirred something deep within you, a faint flicker of the person you used to be. You turned to him slowly, your voice hoarse when you finally spoke. “What if I can’t do it?”

Ekko’s expression softened, and he reached out to take your hand in his. “Yes you can,” he said with quiet conviction. “I’m with you every step of the way. We will get your mother back.”

For the first time since the morning, tears welled in your eyes, though they didn’t fall. You nodded, the faintest hint of determination returning to your gaze. Ekko smiled, his grip on your hand tightening briefly before he stood. “Please firefly. Get some rest,” he said.

When you finally lay down that night, it wasn’t on the makeshift bed Ekko had made for you. You slipped under the covers of his bed, your presence wordless but clear. He hesitated for a moment before climbing in beside you, his arms wrapping protectively around you as you curled against his chest.

You were left in awe. The mural was breathtaking. Ekko had worked on it tirelessly for hours, the paintbrush an extension of his hand as he brought Anya’s face to life on the wall of the hideout. Her eyes sparkled with the same determination you remembered, her smile gentle but firm. Behind her, he painted a swirl of warm, golden hues interspersed with fiery reds, symbolizing her unwavering courage even in the face of death. When he stepped back, covered in smudges of paint, he glanced at you with a quiet kind of sadness.

“She deserved this,” Ekko said, his voice low. “She gave everything to protect you. To protect what’s left of your family.”

You nodded, unable to trust your voice. Standing before the mural, you felt the weight of her sacrifice pressing against your chest. A small, fragile part of you hoped that wherever she was now, she could see this tribute, feel the gratitude and respect that burned through your veins. The only family you had left and yourself and your mother. But how long would that last. What if she were to die, who else would you consider family? You surely wouldn’t think of your father. After everything he did to you. No. It was pointless, you had no family.

Ekko turned to you after a long moment of silence, his expression hardening. “We need to talk about rules,” he said firmly.

You looked up at him confused, as your mind left the empty void it was in. “Rules?”

“Yeah,” he said, stepping closer and resting his hands on your shoulders. “You’re not to be left alone. Ever. If I can’t be there, one of the Firelights will be with you. It’s non-negotiable.”

The hardness in his tone left no room for argument, but you still tried. “Ekko, I don’t need a babysitter—”

“Yes, you do,” he interrupted, his eyes boring into yours. “What happened with your mother? With Anya? That was a wake-up call. We can’t afford to take risks anymore.”

You swallowed hard, his words sinking in. He was right, but the thought of being under constant watch gnawed at your independence. Still, the raw concern in his expression made it impossible to argue further. But knowing how you were, taking risks was going to hard.

“The second rule,” Ekko continued, “is that we plan carefully before doing anything. No impulsive moves. No rushing in without a backup plan—or two, or three. And if things go south, we need to be ready to evacuate the hideout.”

Your stomach twisted at the thought of leaving the hideout behind, but you knew it was a necessary precaution. Ekko wasn’t just thinking about you, he was thinking about everyone who relied on him. All the children.

“I understand,” you said quietly, your fingers twitching at your sides. “I’ll follow your lead.”

Ekko relaxed slightly, though his expression remained serious. “Good. Now, there’s something I need to see.”

He motioned to the necklace you wore, the one he had given you weeks ago. You reached for it, pulling it from beneath your shirt, but your hands trembled too much to unclasp it. Wordlessly, Ekko stepped forward, his calloused fingers brushing against your neck as he worked the clasp.

There was a soft click of the necklace unlocking, making a shiver down your spine. Ekko lingered for a moment, his warm breath brushing against your temple before he pressed a gentle kiss there. His touch was grounding, pulling you out of the haze of fear and exhaustion that had consumed you.

“Come on,” he said, taking your hand and leading you back to his place. His workspace was cluttered with scraps of metal, gears, and tools, but the centerpiece was a large box that you hadn’t noticed before. Ekko placed the necklace into a small slot on the box, and with a faint sound, the lid unlocked and slid open.

Inside, nestled in protective padding, was a sleek wrist device. It was compact but intricately designed, with glowing blue accents that pulsed faintly. You stared at it, unsure of what you were looking at.

“What is it?” you asked, glancing up at Ekko.

“It’s a prototype,” he explained, a hint of pride in his voice. “Took me months to design, and I nearly got myself blown up more times than I’d like to admit, but I think it’s ready now.”

Concern flickered across your face. “Blown up? Ekko—”

He held up a hand, cutting you off. “Relax, t’s fine. I’ve tested it. No explosions, I promise.”

You frowned but nodded, trusting him despite your apprehension. “What does it do?”

“It’s a utility device,” he said, picking it up and fastening it around your wrist. “It’s got a tracking function, a distress signal, and a shield generator for emergencies. If anything happens, you activate this, and I’ll find you. No matter what.”

You stared down at the device, the weight of it unfamiliar but oddly comforting. “You did all this for me?”

Ekko’s lips quirked into a small smile. “I’d do a lot more if it meant keeping you safe.”

He reached into the box again and pulled out a compact crossbow, its design as sleek and efficient as the wrist device. You stiffened at the sight, your stomach knotting with unease.

“I… I’ve never even held a knife, let alone a weapon,” you admitted, your voice barely whisper.

Ekko looked at you, his expression softening. He placed the crossbow gently on the desk and turned to you, taking both your hands in his. His thumbs brushed over your knuckles, grounding you as his dark eyes searched yours.

“I know this isn’t easy,” he said softly. “And I’m not asking you to become a fighter overnight. But things are different now. The people who did this to your mother, to Anya. They won’t stop. We need to make sure you can protect yourself if it comes down to it.”

You glanced down at the crossbow, then back at Ekko. His words made sense, but the thought of hurting someone, even in self-defense, sent a chill down your spine. Still, the determination in his eyes was infectious. He believed in you, and for him, you would try.

“Okay,” you said, your voice firmer this time. “Teach me.”

Ekko’s smile widened, but there was a flicker of relief in his expression as well. “We’ll start slow,” he promised, picking up the crossbow and turning it over in his hands. “It’s lightweight and compact, so it’s easy to handle. And it’s more for precision than brute force, which suits you.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly despite yourself. “Suits me? You saying I’m weak?”

Ekko chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah, just saying you’re quick. Smart. You don’t need brute force when you can outthink your opponent.”

He handed you the crossbow, guiding your fingers to the proper grip. His hands were steady as they covered yours, showing you how to aim and adjust the tension on the string. You couldn’t help but notice the warmth of his touch, the way his focus never wavered.

“Breathe,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “That’s the key. Steady your hands, focus on your target, and breathe.”

You tried to follow his instructions, your fingers trembling slightly as you raised the crossbow. It felt strange in your hands, foreign and dangerous, but Ekko’s presence steadied you.

After a few practice movements, Ekko took a step back, watching you with a mix of pride and caution. “You’ll get the hang of it,” he said, crossing his arms. “And when you do, no one’s gonna mess with you.”

You set the crossbow down carefully, exhaling a shaky breath. “Thank you,” you said, meeting his gaze. “For everything. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

Ekko shook his head, stepping closer until he was right in front of you. “You don’t have to repay me,” he said quietly. “Just promise me you’ll stay alive. That’s all I need.”

The weight of his words hung between you, heavy with unspoken emotion. You nodded, swallowing hard. “I promise.”

Satisfied, Ekko reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch lingered for a moment before he pulled back, gesturing to the desk. “We’ll go over more later. For now, you should relax.”

You nodded, suddenly aware of how exhausted you felt. The events of the past few days had taken their toll, and your body ached for sleep. Ekko led you to the corner of the hideout where your shared bed was now set up. You were tired for days, beyond exhaustion. Surprisingly now, you liked to sleep. Maybe, it was because of your lack of energy.

As you lay down, Ekko pulled a blanket over you, his movements careful and deliberate. He sat on the edge of the bed, watching you with an intensity that made your chest tighten.

You reached out, taking his hand in yours. “Stay with me,” you whispered.

Ekko hesitated for only a moment before nodding. He kicked off his boots and slid under the blanket beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist. His warmth was comforting, and as you rested your head on his chest, you felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

Zaun. The streets were always treacherous with now people lingered around. Dangerous people. You were walking back from a short supply run as the sun began to set over the horizon, the weight of the crossbow slung across your back almost forgotten as your mind wandered. Ekko’s words about being cautious echoed in your head. Always make a plan, always think before you act. He had drilled that rule into you countless times, but none of it mattered when you turned a corner and saw the scene in front of you.

A little girl, no older than seven, was backed against a crumbling wall, her tiny frame trembling. Two men loomed over her, their gruff laughter echoing down the alley as they taunted her. She clutched a stuffed toy to her chest, her eyes wide with terror. One of the men reached for her arm, and without thinking, you moved.

Your crossbow was in your hands before you realized it, the familiar weight grounding you. The shimmer coursing through your veins dulled your hesitation, sharpening your focus. The first arrow struck the shoulder of the man closest to the girl, a sickening thud silencing his laughter as he staggered back with a howl of pain. The second arrow found the leg of the other man, sending him crumpling to the ground. You moved quickly, reloading and taking aim again, though neither man seemed eager to continue.

“Get out of here,” you growled, your voice cold and unyielding. The men scrambled to their feet, one limping heavily as they disappeared into the shadows without a backward glance.

The girl was still pressed against the wall, her tiny hands clutching her stuffed toy so tightly her knuckles were white. You knelt down in front of her, setting the crossbow aside. “Hey,” you said gently, trying to soften your tone. “It’s okay now. They’re gone.”

Her eyes darted to the weapon lying on the ground, then back to your face. “You… you hurt them that,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

You swallowed hard, the weight of what you’d done sinking in. “I had to,” you said softly. “They weren’t going to leave you alone. Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, her grip on the toy loosening slightly. “No. Thank you, miss lady.”

Before you could respond, the sound of footsteps behind you made you tense. You turned to see Ekko, his expression a mixture of relief and frustration. Of course, he would show up. He always did. You noticed the small device in his hand and realized with a sinking feeling that it was a tracker. He must have known the second you fired the crossbow.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded, his voice low but firm as he approached you. “I told you to think before you act, to make a plan.”

You looked down at the girl, then back at Ekko. “She needed help,” you said simply, your voice steady despite the guilt creeping in. “I couldn’t just stand there.”

Ekko sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he crouched beside you. His gaze softened when he looked at the girl. “Hey there,” he said gently. “What’s your name?”

She hesitated, her eyes flickering between the two of you. “Mila,” she said quietly.

“Well, Mila,” Ekko said, offering her a small smile. “You’re safe now. No one else is going to hurt you.”

The girl nodded, her shoulders relaxing just a little. You reached out and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. “Do you have any family, Mila? Anyone we can take you to?”

Her expression darkened, and she shook her head. “My mom… she died a long time ago. And my dad…” She trailed off, her voice cracking. “He left. He didn’t want me.”

By hearing those words. Gosh it hit you like a punch to the gut, your breath catching in your throat. You glanced at Ekko, who was watching you carefully, his brow furrowed. He knew what you were thinking. Your father had abandoned you too, leaving you to fend for yourself in a world that was cruel and unforgiving. Mila’s pain was all too familiar to you.

You cleared your throat, trying to push the memories away. “Mila,” you said softly, “would you like to come with us? We have a safe place where you can stay.”

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked like she didn’t believe you. “Really?”

“Really,” Ekko said, his voice warm and reassuring. “You’ll be safe with us. I promise.”

Mila hesitated, then nodded, clutching her toy tightly. “Okay.”

You helped her to her feet, glancing at Ekko as the three of you started back toward the hideout. His expression was unreadable, but you could feel the tension radiating off him. He waited until Mila was a few steps ahead before leaning closer to you.

“We need to talk about this later,” he murmured, his tone serious but not unkind.

“I know,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I’d do it again.”

Ekko sighed but didn’t argue. Instead, he reached out and gently squeezed your hand. The gesture was enough to remind you that, no matter how angry or worried he might be, he was still on your side.

When you arrived at the hideout, the Firelights greeted Mila with curiosity and kindness, their youthful energy helping to put her at ease. You showed her to a quiet corner where she could rest, and Ekko gave one of the older Firelights instructions to keep an eye on her. Then he turned to you, his expression serious.

“Come with me,” he said, leading you to his workshop. Once inside, he closed the door and leaned against the closed door, crossing his arms. “We need to talk.”

“I know,” you said, sitting down on the edge of the workbench. “I broke the rules. I acted without thinking. But, Ekko, she’s just a kid. I couldn’t let them hurt her.”

“I get it,” he said, his voice softer now. “I do. But you can’t just jump into situations like that without a plan. What if they’d had weapons? What if they’d hurt you?” He paused, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t lose you again y'know.”

The vulnerability in his voice made your chest tighten. You stood and crossed the room, placing a hand on his arm. “You won’t,” you said firmly. “But I can’t stand by and do nothing when someone needs help and you know that. Its not who I am.”

Ekko nodded slowly, his eyes meeting yours. “From now on, you need to be careful. Promise me that will you.”

“I promise,” you said, and this time, you meant it.

Ekko pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you close to his body. He really did love hugging you. It’s not like you minded anyways, the way he hold you every time he did was endearing.

Shining bright through the sun was heavy as it seeped through the windows. Casting warm beams of light onto the small play area you and Ekko had carved out for the kids. Mila was a different child than the one you had brought in a few days ago. Her cheeks were fuller, a healthy glow replacing the pallor of malnourishment. Her hair, now free of dirt and tangles, was neatly braided in a style one of the older Firelights had taught her. She wore clean, simple clothes that fit her nicely, and the sight of her beaming smile was enough to make your heart swell. You began to love her as a little sister. One who needs to be protected from the harsh world.

You and Ekko sat cross-legged on the ground, surrounded by a mix of giggling children who were eager to show off their toys as they invent new games. Mila gravitated toward you, her tiny hands tugging at your sleeve as she laughed at something one of the kids said. Her joy was infectious, and for the first time, you felt a lightness in your chest that had been absent since everything began. One that only appeared when you would share special moments with ekko, or in the past when you would make memories with your mother and anya.

“Watch this!” Mila declared, holding up a toy dragon that one of the Firelights had carved from wood. She mimicked the sound of its roar, moving it around in exaggerated loops. The other kids burst into laughter, and so did you, unable to resist the sheer enthusiasm radiating from her.

“You’re getting pretty good at that,” Ekko teased, leaning back on his hands as he watched her antics. “Maybe we should make you our official storyteller.”

“Really?” Mila’s eyes widened, the idea filling her with excitement. “Can I, can I?”

“Of course,” you said with a soft laugh, though your voice came out a bit sharper than you intended. Mila didn’t seem to notice, but Ekko shot you a quick, concerned glance. The shimmer was still in your system, subtle but nevertheless present. It would sometimes heighten your senses, making you jittery. It was like holding a storm inside you, and no matter how hard you tried, it bled through the cracks sometimes.

Mila tugged your sleeve again, pulling your attention back to her. “What’s your favorite story? I can tell it to everyone!”

You hesitated, the warmth in your chest flickering. “Maybe later,” you said, your tone sharper than before. “Let’s keep it quiet for now.”

Mila frowned, her brow furrowing slightly. “But we’re not being loud—”

“I said keep it down!” The words snapped out of you before you could stop them, your voice harsh and biting. The shimmer roared in your veins, amplifying your frustration to a level that felt almost unbearable. Mila flinched, her toy dragon slipping from her hands to the ground. The head of the dragon broke from its body, and you watched as it rolled towards your feet. The other kids fell silent, their wide eyes darting between you and the little girl.

Mila’s bottom lip quivered, her hands trembling as she reached for the dragon. “I-I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. She clutched the toy to her chest and bolted from the group, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Silence. It was suffocating. The other kids stared at you, their expressions a mix of confusion and fear. Ekko was on his feet in an instant, his eyes blazing as he grabbed your arm and pulled you aside. Away from prying eyes.

“What the hell was that?” he hissed, keeping his voice low but firm. “She’s a kid, and you just yelled at her like she did something awful.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you said quickly, guilt clawing at your chest. “It’s the drug—it’s messing with my head. I didn’t mean to scare her.”

“You need to get it under control,” Ekko said, his tone softening but still stern. “The poor girl looks up to you. She trusts you. You can’t let the drug make you into someone she could afraid of.”

You nodded, your throat tightening as you looked in the direction Mila had run. “I’ll talk to her,” you said quietly. “I’ll make it right, okay?”

Ekko nodded, his hand lingering on your arm for a moment before letting go. “You’d better,” he said, though his voice held more concern than anger. “She needs you to be better than this.”

Taking a deep breath, you followed the faint sound of Mila’s sniffles to a secluded corner of the hideout. She was curled up on the floor, her back to the wall and her headless toy dragon clutched tightly in her arms. Her small shoulders shook with quiet sobs, and the sight made your chest ache.

“Mila,” you said softly, kneeling down a few feet away from her. “I’m sorry.”

She didn’t look at you, her face buried in the dragon’s wooden wings. “You yelled at me,” she said, her voice muffled but heavy with hurt. “I didn’t mean to be loud…”

“I know,” you said, your voice thick with regret. “I wasn’t angry at you, Mila. I’m just… not feeling like myself today but hat’s not an excuse. You didn’t do anything wrong, and I shouldn’t have yelled. I’m so sorry for scaring you.”

Mila peeked up at you, her tear-streaked face breaking your heart. “You promise you’re not mad?” she asked hesitantly.

“Yes i promise you that,” you said, reaching out slowly. She didn’t pull away when you rested a hand on her knee. “You’ve been so brave and strong since you came here, Mila. I’m really proud of you. And I’m really, really sorry for making you feel like you did something wrong.”

For a moment, she didn’t say anything. Then, slowly, she reached out and placed her tiny hand on top of yours. “Okay,” she said softly. “I forgive you.”

Relief flooded through you, and you pulled her into a gentle hug. She wrapped her arms around your neck, her headless toy dragon squished between you. “You’re my favorite grown-up,” she whispered, her voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

You laughed softly, the sound tinged with emotion. “Well, you’re my favorite storyteller,” you said, pulling back just enough to see her face. “How about we go back and tell the others a story? You can even make one up about a scary headless dragon.”

Mila’s eyes lit up, her earlier sadness melting away. “Okay!” she said, her smile returning in full force. “But you have to help me make it really good.”

“Deal,” you said, standing and taking her hand. As you walked back to the play area together, you glanced over your shoulder to see Ekko watching from a distance, a small smile tugging at his lips. As you stood beside mila and the other kids, you somehow managed to glue the head back to the headless dragon. Now it wasn’t headless anymore. Mila looked up at you, thanking you for fixing her dragon. A smile crept up her face. Even thought it was a small gesture of kindness after you made her cry, she thought it was a big deal. It was precious how mila would think even the smallest things were the best thing. Adorable.

You definitely knew that you still had work to do on yourself. To control your emotions and impulses but as well as being a person Mila could to look up to. However as her laughter rang out again, you felt a spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, you could be that person after all.

But was it true? The lines between reality and fiction began to converge. It all made sense as the waterfall’s thunder filled your ears. You stood motionless on the ledge, staring at the mirror-like surface of the lake below. Your reflection rippled faintly, distorted by the spray of water. You didn’t see yourself as you were, but only what you feared you had become. Mila’s tear-streaked face flashed in your mind, her sobs echoing louder than the rushing water. The guilt felt unbearable, pressing against your chest like a weight you couldn’t lift. Your trembling fingers brushed against the edge of the rocky ledge, the cold biting into your skin. A sob escaped your throat as tears fell freely, mingling with the mist around you. You apologizing to mila and fixing her headless dragon was all fake. Your mind imagined it. So right now mila was sad, hiding in a corner as she cried. What a horrible person i am.

“Maybe they’d all be better off without me,” you whispered to the air, your voice trembling as it was swallowed by the roar of the falls. The words left a bitter taste in your mouth, but you couldn’t stop the thoughts racing through your mind. You had tried, tried so hard to fit in, to make Zaun feel like home. Yet every mistake, every outburst reminded you that you didn’t belong. The Firelights were kind, but they didn’t understand you. Mila didn’t deserve your anger, and Ekko didn’t deserve the chaos you continued to bring into to his life. You stepped closer to the edge, the rocks shifting beneath your feet.

The world seemed to narrow as you took another step forward, your gaze fixed on the lake below. You fell silently, the cold air rushing past you before the icy water enveloped you like a second skin. The cold was shocking at first, stealing your breath, but then everything went quiet. You sank deeper, the surface growing distant as the weight of the water pressed in from all sides. The noise in your head didn’t stop, though. It only grew louder, something you couldn’t escape.

Images of your mother flickered in your mind, her smile fading like a dream you couldn’t quite hold onto. Anya’s laughter echoed, only to be drowned out by the sharp voice of your father. You’re not good enough. You never will be. The words clung to you like chains, dragging you deeper into the lake. You thought of Piltover and how it had abandoned you. Whereas with Zaun, you were nothing more than an outsider. Even here, even with Ekko, you felt like a burden. The water cradled you, its silence deceptive as your body floated aimlessly. You closed your eyes, hoping for darkness, for peace, but it didn’t come. Nothing was ever easy for you.

Instead, the world exploded in sound, a loud splash followed by muffled movements cutting through the water. You opened your eyes to see a figure diving toward you, moving with urgency. Ekko. His form was unmistakable even through the distorted water. He was always saving you after you do something stupid. How long would this last? When would it be the last time that he would save you?

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you upward with a strength you couldn’t resist. You felt the rush of cold air as he broke the surface, his grip on you tightened as he dragged you to the shore. His breaths came heavy, his movements frantic as he laid you down on the damp grass.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded, his voice a mix of anger and desperation. He crouched over you, his hands gripping your shoulders as his eyes searched your face. “Do you even understand what you just did?”

You turned your head away, unable to meet his gaze. “I—I didn’t mean for you to find me,” you said weakly, your voice trembling. “I just… I couldn’t take it anymore. I’m tired of feeling like this.”

“That’s not an excuse!” His voice cracked, his frustration palpable. “You don’t get to just give up! And leave me like that.” He paused, taking a shaky breath before softening his tone. “Damn it.”

A small voice broke the tense silence. “Why did you do it?” Mila stood a few feet away, her eyes wide and tearful as she clutched her arms tightly. “Did I do something wrong? Was it because of me?”

Your chest tightened, the guilt suffocating as you shook your head. “No, Mila. No. It wasn’t your fault,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I was wrong. I let my anger get the best of me, and I hurt you. I’m so sorry.”

Mila hesitated, her small hands twisting nervously in front of her. “You said you cared about me. But then you yelled… I thought…” Her words trailed off, her voice breaking.

Ekko placed a hand on her shoulder, his expression softening. “It’s not your fault, Mila,” he said gently. “Sometimes grown-ups do stupid things when they’re hurting. But that doesn’t mean we stop caring. You’ve gotta trust me on that.” He glanced at you pointedly, his meaning clear.

You sat up slowly, your body trembling from the cold. “I’m sorry,” you repeated, this time to both of them. “I was selfish, and I wasn’t thinking about what it would do to you. I never wanted to hurt either of you.”

Mila stepped closer, hesitating before reaching out to touch your hand. “Are you gonna be okay now?” she asked softly, her voice still uncertain.

You nodded, tears threatening to fall down your face as you squeezed her hand gently. “I’ll try to be. I promise.”

Ekko sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he helped you to your feet. “We need to find something to help you with this,” he said firmly. “I need the old you back. I want my firefly back.”

There was no way that a cure for shimmer exists in Zaun. And even if it did, even if someone had it, they wouldn’t give it up that easily. Not without a fight. Maybe you had to deal with your new life, the one were you were unstable and unpredictable. How can someone love a person like this. How can someone do deserving of something better like ekko deserve a person like you?

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