ALL CAPS (Rapper male reader x Arcane / KDA)

Weight

The monotony of hospital life was a prison in itself. The steady beeping of the heart monitor felt like a metronome for your thoughts, and the sterile white walls seemed to amplify the echo of every worry that churned in your mind. Days blurred together, marked only by the occasional appearance of nurses checking your vitals and delivering bland meals you hardly touched.

You spent most of your time staring out the small window, your eyes tracing the skyline of Piltover. Your body ached from the ordeal, but the real pain came from within—a gnawing, relentless guilt and a growing sense of helplessness. Your mind replayed everything: the chaos in Zaun, the explosions, the desperate look in Jinx's eyes before her manic breakdown. You couldn't shake the image of her aiming her pistol at you, only to hesitate. It was like she had reached for you but couldn't quite let go of her own demons.

You wondered if you could have done more. Maybe if you'd been faster, stronger—if you'd said something different. The "what-ifs" clawed at you, making the silence unbearable.

The silence broke when Senna arrived, her presence commanding the room the moment she walked in. She didn't knock—she never did—just strode in with the same confident energy she always carried.

"You look like hell, kid," she said bluntly, pulling a chair up to your bedside. Her sharp green eyes scanned you, taking in the pale complexion and dark circles under your eyes. "But I've seen worse."

"Thanks for the encouragement," you said dryly, managing a weak smile.

Senna sighed, leaning back in the chair. "I heard what happened... well, pieces of it. You've got a knack for diving headfirst into trouble, don't you?"

You shrugged. "I didn't have much of a choice."

"Listen," she said, her voice softening. "You're carrying a lot right now. I get it. But don't let it crush you. You've got people who care about you, who'll have your back. Don't shut us out."

you nodded, though your thoughts were still far away. Senna stayed for a while longer, filling the silence with her presence until you finally managed to relax, even if only slightly.

The next visitors arrived in a flurry of energy that shattered the somber atmosphere of the room. K/DA burst in, their presence a stark contrast to the sterile hospital environment.

Ahri was the first through the door, her radiant smile immediately lifting the mood. "Look who's finally awake!" she said, pulling you into a careful hug. "You scared the hell out of us!"

Evelynn followed closely, her sharp eyes scanning him critically. "You're lucky you didn't end up worse," she said, her tone a mix of concern and exasperation.

Kai'Sa shyly approached, holding a small bouquet of flowers. "We wanted to check on you," she said softly, placing the flowers on the bedside table.

Akali, of course, was quick to lighten the mood. "Dude, you look like you went ten rounds with a chem-baron," she teased, though the humor in her voice faltered when she saw the exhaustion in your eyes.

Their visit was chaotic but comforting. Ahri's bubbly energy and Evelynn's biting remarks clashed as usual, while Akali cracked jokes and Kai'Sa quietly tried to keep the peace. Despite their differences, their presence reminded you that you weren't alone.

Vi and Caitlyn came last, their visit more somber. Vi sat beside you, her expression unreadable.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I should've been faster. Gotten to you sooner."

"Don't," you replied firmly. "You did everything you could. I wouldn't have made it out at all without you."

Caitlyn placed a hand on Vi's shoulder, her voice steady. "We'll figure this out. Jinx... Powder... she's still in there. We just have to find a way to reach her."

You nodded, though doubt lingered in his mind.

After everyone left, the silence returned, heavier than before. You found yourself alone with your thoughts again, the weight of everything pressing down on you. You couldn't take it anymore. you needed an outlet, something to distract you from the endless cycle of guilt and worry.

You got your mother to bring in your laptop from the nurses and had her pick up a USB microphone from a nearby store. The moment it arrived, you felt a surge of energy you hadn't felt in days.

Plugging in the mic, you opened your music software and started building a beat. The process was methodical, almost meditative. You started with a resonating calling sound, high pitched. Layers of ethereal melodies followed, adding an otherworldly quality to the track.

The beat echoed the way he grew up in zaun. As the instrumental took shape, he began writing lyrics, the words pouring out of him in a torrent:

"Tell myself i aint feeling the weight
I came far from accepting defeat,
Made it out with the blood on my face,
We done shed every tear we could weep"

You rapped softly at first, testing each line, tweaking the flow until it felt perfect. The stable and composed way you rapped added to the song.

By the time you finished recording, the sun was setting outside his window, casting the room in a warm orange glow. Leaning back in your chair, you felt a rare sense of peace. For the first time since waking up in the hospital, you felt like yourself again.

With a few clicks, you uploaded the song to Mass Appeal. You didn't care about how it would be received—it wasn't for anyone else. It was for you, a way to clear your mind.

Weight - redveil

But as you closed your laptop, you couldn't help but wonder if powder would hear it.

The thought lingered as you leaned back on the hospital bed, wondering if she had heard any of your music.