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caitvi sparring...for science

I also needed to see this, i think vi deserved a lil paypack for caitlyn throwing her

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ARCANE LEAGUE OF LEGENDS: 2x08 - “Killing is a Cycle”

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Evt

@LevtafYeat

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rimari

@rimri4mm

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happy new year everyone

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Quick Vi sketch

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#something has just awoken inside me...

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I'M GONNA MISS THEM SO MUCH

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caitlyn's garden of violets

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violets

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ARCANE LEAGUE OF LESBIANS: 2x08 - “Killing is a Cycle”

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she could shoot me in the kneecaps, and i’d crawl to thank her for the experience

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We needed a post-battle reunion

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Continued…

It almost felt like a fairytale.

The magical moment that everything just seems to click into place, the world falling away, time stopping, lungs frozen in shock and electric air curling around her.

Pink hair.

Lip and eyebrow scar.

Grey eyes…

Caitlyn’s world has never felt complete, never felt whole or right.

Not when she learned to ride a bike for the first time. Or when she won first place in the science fair in third grade after staying up until 2am making sure her potatoes could actually be turned into a battery, and yes, it did work. Or when she had her first kiss hidden in the stairwell of her high school gym during her junior winter formal. Or when she made it into her dream college to study law and graduated top of her class with a job offer to one of Piltover’s most esteemed law firms without her mother’s assistance.

Nothing, none of those, felt like this moment.

The feeling of floating through clouds, the sun’s rays peeking through and warming her perpetually frozen bones, her blood singing with warmth and life for what felt like the first time ever. The forever feeling of slowly drowning in her own breath eased instantly, the bubbles of air holding her under suddenly lifting her to the surface and allowing her to take the deepest, easiest breath of her life since birth.

Finally, she felt rest and peace.

Here, staring into grey eyes and pink hair…a name curling along her tongue as memories she didn’t know she had came breaking through the surface. Flashes of Piltover, but not Piltover…of Caitlyn, but not Caitlyn.

A completely different world than what she knows today…but something her soul used to know.

From another time…another universe.

Caitlyn watched behind her own eyes as Ambessa’s weapon pierced her eye, sending her sprawling to the ground, hands empty and unable to disarm the general of her protective runes. Watched as she struck down Mel before continuing forward into whatever plan she had devised with Viktor. Watched as Viktor’s soldiers began capturing her people, lifting them into the air almost as if in sacrifice, before more began climbing the tower towards her. Watched as Ambessa lifted her by the back of her neck, the words “A wolf has no mercy” slithering through her mind before bright white clouded her vision and her body was being lifted up and up towards the dark rumbling sky.

And then nothing.

“Knew I’d find you in every lifetime, cupcake.”

Caitlyn blinked away the thick fog of memories, of another lifetime. Warm grey eyes clashed with startled blue, tears thickly building on the corners before falling away. Her fingers and toes felt numb and tingly at the same time, the blood rushing from her head and straight through her heart with each harsh thump, thump, thump. Her mind twisted in confusion before clarity revealed itself, watching the woman standing before her so strikingly familiar yet not.

“Vi.”

Caitvi soulmates in every lifetime?

“I will find you in every lifetime. Our souls will not rest until we’re together again. Every breath, every heartbeat, will be in agony until we come face to face once more. Until we can finally live in peace together.” 

There was never a way for her to explain it. 

The constant feeling of things being wrong. Like everything hurts. Like each and every fiber of her being called to something that wasn’t in her reach. Most of her life felt restless, as if she’d never truly lived, running on autopilot from the day she was old enough to remember. 

There were also the dreams. 

Dreams filled with terror and cold sweats and blood and pink hair. Many a night she would wake up screaming and crying, clutching to her sheets so hard they would rip before leaning over and emptying her stomach onto the floor. Her parents constantly worried during this period. There were a number of doctor visits, blood tests, psych evals, sleep tests. You name it, she’s been tested for it. The dreams were so repeated, testing her mental resolve almost to a point of her breaking…but she didn’t let them take her. She learned to live with them, grew numb to them.

But some of them weren’t always terrifying. 

The pink hair, the soft voice calling her name, the face too blurry for her to quite make out except for grey eyes and the small scars on an upper lip and left eyebrow. She felt the phantom touches whisper along her cheek, around her waist, up her spine, sometimes around her entire body like an all encompassing blanket. The warmth of the touches would sink into her skin, melt into her bones and keep her burning well into her morning. 

Those dreams she would never try to keep at bay. She welcomed the moments of soft humming of a seemingly familiar voice, though she’s not sure where she’s heard it before, pink hair and grey eyes clouding her vision and soft lips upon her own. Those dreams she prayed would never stop. 

But no matter how much comfort those dreams of pink hair and those grey eyes brought her, it was only ever fleeting. Never enough to stave off the misplaced feeling in her chest or body, like she was an imposter in her own skin. After 24 years, she was sure she’d have found a way to ignore the feeling, but it never ceased. And she was sure it never would now. 

At least not until today.