#the answer is grief vi

[starrynightarchive]

⭐️

listen. listen the fyolai fic I wrote w ali might have single handedly KO'ed both of us but. do you understand. how cool that thing is. like. fyodor comes back from the dead like Nikolai wanted him to but he's all wrong pieces stuck together. He smiles and talks, but it's not right. It's so wrong and the way ali and I portrayed it makes me go insane

listen. this is how we wrote the story: I'd write 300-500 words, hand it over to ali. Ali would do the same, hand it over to me. Sounds like a goddamn nightmare, right? you're right it was. but that was the intention. We wanted to create a piece that was so dissonant but it worked but it also did not so that it left people with this lingering sense of unease that "hey this is good but. something is off and it's bothering me. " and tbh we had no direction no outline no nothing. We were close to crying throughout the whole thing. But we did it and like. Do you see? Do you see how our writing process mirrors Nikolai's desperation? Do you see that stroke of genius? Do you see? DO YOU?????

you can read it here.

[thesecondhandwoman]

A SISTER’S SACRIFICE

Vi x f!reader

Synopsis: Vi had watched Jinx’s death, loosing her again despite finally getting her back. As you look for her after the battle, you find her on her knees and shattered by her sister’s sacrifice, rushing in to comfort her.

Request: @hallowed-hauntings

The battle was over, but Piltover was in shambles. Smoke rose into the dim, grey sky, casting a suffocating haze over the city. The streets were littered with the wreckage of both man and machine, the aftershocks of Viktor’s twisted Arcane creations still reverberating through the earth beneath your feet. The fight between Noxus and Zaun’s reluctant defenders had left the city broken.

And yet, nothing felt as broken as the woman you had finally found.

Vi was on her knees in the heart of the destruction, at the edge of the Hexcore’s wreckage, right where it all happened. You slowed as you approached, your chest tightening at the sight of her. Her broad shoulders trembled, her hands clenched into bloody fists against the ground. Her gauntlets—those indomitable weapons that had always seemed like extensions of her fiery will—were discarded nearby, cracked and useless.

But Vi herself looked even more fractured.

“Vi,” you called gently, your voice soft but unsteady as you stepped closer. She didn’t respond, her head hanging low, her pink hair tangled and streaked the black dye at her roots. Her back heaved as though she was trying to catch her breath, but there was no relief in sight.

You glanced down and saw it—the remains of Jinx’s signature monkey bomb. Its grinning face was barely intact, the edges scorched and jagged from the explosion. Your stomach turned. You didn’t need to piece together the rest.

Jinx was gone.

The memory came back in flashes. You hadn’t seen it directly but had heard both the bomb and the sudden murmurs while people recovered as you searched for Vi in the chaos. Vi had been cornered, battling Warwick—the monstrous, Arcane-corrupted beast that Viktor’s creation had unleashed. He had been too strong, too fast, it had thrown Vi completely off guard, especially since she thought Warwick was dead. But when his large form jerked up, Jinx didn’t hesitate. Not at the slightest.

She had saved Vi. Pushed her out of harm’s way. Forced her sister to let go. And then detonated her final monkey bomb, taking Warwick with her into the abyss.

You crouched beside Vi, hesitant at first. Her knuckles were raw, bleeding from where she’d slammed them into the metal again and again. Her entire body shook, each shudder a silent scream that didn’t make it past her lips. You reached out, gently placing a hand on her shoulder, but she flinched violently at the touch.

“Don’t—” Her voice was raw, ragged, and trembling with grief. She finally lifted her head to glare at you, but her expression crumbled almost instantly. Her bloodshot eyes, rimmed with tears, searched your face as though she was begging you for answers you couldn’t give. “Don’t… touch me. I let her fall, I let her fall before even realizing she took out the fucking Crystal.”

Her words hit you like a blade to the chest, the shock hitting first, followed by an aching pain.

“No, Vi,” you said firmly, your own voice breaking under the weight of your emotions. “You didn’t let her fall. She—she made her choice.”

Vi shook her head furiously, a choked sob tearing from her throat. “She didn’t give me a choice!” she yelled, though her voice wavered, more plea than accusation. “She just… she just shoved me away and smiled. She smiled at me. Like it was nothing.” Her hands clenched at her sides as she let out another anguished cry. “I should have saved her! I could’ve saved her, but—”

“But she saved you,” you interrupted, your tone soft but unwavering. You couldn’t bear to see her like this, drowning in guilt that wasn’t hers to carry. “She saved you, Vi. She knew what she was doing. She wanted to protect you.”

“She was my little sister,” Vi whispered, her voice breaking completely as tears streamed down her face. “I was supposed to protect her. Not the other way around.”

And before you could say something to retort against her statement, her hands moved to cover her face as her sobs finally broke free. They were raw, guttural sounds, ripped straight from her soul. You didn’t hesitate this time. You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close despite the way her body shook violently against you. She resisted for a brief moment, her muscles tensing like she was about to push you away, but then she collapsed into your embrace.

Her fingers clawed at your back as if holding onto you was the only thing keeping her together. You buried your face in her hair, pressing soft, soothing kisses against her temple as tears stung your own eyes.

“I’m here,” you murmured over and over, your voice trembling but steady enough to ground her. “I’m here, Vi. You’re not alone. I’ve got you.”

She clung to you like a lifeline, her sobs shaking both of you. You could feel her grief pouring out of her, raw and unrelenting. For so long, Vi had forced herself to be the unbreakable one—the fighter, the protector, the one who always got back up no matter how hard she was hit. But now? Now she was just a woman who had lost the last piece of her family, and it was more than anyone could bear.

“I wanted to bring her back,” Vi choked out between sobs. “I thought—I thought maybe we could fix things. That we could be sisters again. But now she’s gone, and—and it’s my fault.”

“No,” you said firmly, pulling back just enough to cup her tear-streaked face in your hands. You made her look at you, made her see the truth in your eyes. “It’s not your fault, Vi. Jinx… Powder… she loved you. She chose to save you because you meant everything to her. Don’t take that away from her. Don’t let her sacrifice mean nothing.”

Vi’s face crumpled again, and you pulled her back into your arms. The two of you stayed there for what felt like hours, kneeling in the ruins of Piltover as the world slowly moved on around you. You didn’t let go, not even as your legs began to ache and your heart weighed heavy with your own grief.

Eventually, Vi’s sobs quieted, though her breathing remained uneven. Her voice was hoarse when she finally spoke again. “She’s really gone, isn’t she?”

You swallowed hard, your throat tightening. “Yeah,” you whispered. “She’s gone,Vi.”

Vi remained still before slowly nodding against your shoulder, her arms still wrapped tightly around you. “I don’t know how to do this without her,” she admitted, her voice barely audible.

“You don’t have to do it alone,” you promised, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. “I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Vi didn’t say anything, but the way she held onto you spoke volumes. The weight of her grief was unbearable, but you would carry it with her. Whatever it took, you would help her through this.

Even if it meant piecing together the fragments of her heart one jagged shard at a time.

[thenationofzaun]

My Jinx was missing from Season 2.

Where was the Jinx who lured enforcers into a trap, taunted them, then murdered them while laughing?

Where was the Jinx who killed a crow just because it surprised her, and just because she could, then used its feathers as bookmarks?

Where was the Jinx who massacred Firelights with no hesitation or remorse, and was so violent towards them that even Vi was shocked?

Where was the Jinx who straddled Silco and repeatedly stabbed him in the face because she thought he lied to her?

Where was the Jinx who blew enforcers to pieces on the bridge, then stalked through the bloody aftermath, mercilessly picking off survivors one by one while humming a song?

Where was the Jinx who smiled while tormenting Vi by pretending she had Caitlyn's severed head on a platter?

Where was the Jinx who tied Sevika up, hit her, and threatened to cut her other arm off just for an interrogation, then strung her upside down after she got her answer?

Where was the Jinx who smiled like a gleeful child while shooting at people and when told of all the enforcers she killed?

Where was the Jinx who, in rage and grief after losing Silco, fired a Hextech rocket directly at the Council while hearing his voice telling her to let them burn?

Where was the terrifying and threatening force of destruction I fell in love with? She appeared a little in Season 2 Act 1, then never again. Did Baby Yoda give her a personality transplant along with curing her mental illness?

Where was this girl?

[sweettoothy]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃𝐒 𝐄𝐍𝐃

╰ SHOW ﹕ ARCANE !

︵ WARNING(S) ﹕╰ swearing ⸝ violence ﹕ sex

︵ relationship ﹕ Vi x fem!fragile!reader x Caitlyn

— pt.2 : watch it all burn.

⟣・S2・HEAVY IS THE CROWN︰

THE SOUND OF screaming could be heard when you had awoken from being on the ground, your hair in a messy style as you couldn’t see your surroundings. was Jayce and viktor okay? was everyone alright? mel..? of course you wouldn’t know, everything in your body hurt, it felt like some sort of piece of metal lodged in your side.

Being a well trained solider had its many perks but you weren’t prepared for this. Of course you weren’t. like they say, the most unexpected things come.

For you though it felt a little far fetched whenever your mom would tell you the stories about the ghost and salem. Where the witch would be haunted down and hunted but towards the end they found her having did no wrong doing.

Sad tale it was. really.

Everything on your body hurt like hell, the only voice you could hear was Jayce’s. was he carrying you and viktor? probably.

That dude had some incredible strength.

JAYCE SITS IN a chair with his head in his hand, looking over at viktor who lays inside the hextech. seeing you and viktor in this condition was tearing him limb from limb, not in a gruesome way but a much more sadder way.

He had hated not being able to protect the both of you, it felt like hell. But you know, some things just come and go…you lay there on a bed with a bunch of iv’s attached to your arms and lower half, your hair was in a messy bun since Jayce had tried thing it himself.

Mel walks inside his office as she takes a look around, her eyes landing on Jayce. “How are they?” She questioned.

“Same as before. They’re both breathing.” Jayce answers in reply, a distressed look on his face. “Their pluses are consistent. Beyond that, your guess is as good as mines.”

Mel walks over to viktor, her eyes landing on the hextech as she starts reaching her hand out with curiosity. When she goes to touch it, it reacts differently with her making her gasp and step back.

“What’s it doing to him?” Mel questions.

“The hexcore has been evolving.” Jayce explains, “shifting through runic patters faster than I can keep up. All I know for certain is that it’s keeping him and her alive.”

Jayce eyes land on where you laid, his heart aching with devastation as he sees you reacting differently to the hextech aside from viktor, your body was rejecting it but also accepting it at the same time.

If it was the only thing keeping you alive he wasn’t gonna mess with it.

“It should be me up there instead of him. I should be laying in that bed instead of her,” Jayce grumbled, gesturing to an unconscious you on the bed barely breathing. “Vi and cait are gonna lose it.”

“Don’t say that.” Mel placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “They’ll both come back to us.”

“I still don’t understand.” Jayce replies. “They were both right next to me. How does the explosion do that to them, and I just…? I just walk out without a scratch? [name] almost lost a hand, my god.”

Mel sighs. “There’s no sense to these things, Jayce.”

The male was quiet for a while before speaking again, “how’d it go with the council?” he asks.

Mel scoffs. “My mother’s entered the game. She’s already gotten her hooks into salo. Using his grief to make a play for hextech.”

“Mel, I promised viktor, never again.” Jayce tells the woman.

Mel places her hand over his. “It’s all right. I handled it. I won’t let them corrupt your dream.”

Jayce looks over at an unconscious you again, before laying his head on mel’s thighs, tears threaten to fall down his eyes but he holds them back.

He just wanted you and viktor back, that’s all.

You were very important to caitlyn and vi after all.

“I should get going now.” Mel says, “you might want to spend some alone time with them.”

With that, she stood up and patted his shoulder one last time before walking out the door. The door slams shut behind her by itself, making Jayce flinch a little.

He feels you stir, his head perks up immediately.

When it does, he saw you already staring at him, a confused look on your gaze.

“What was that about?” You questioned, sitting up with your back pressed against the pillows. It was a little hard to breathe but it was manageable with the breathing machine.

“I don’t even care-- i just-- you’re--?” Jayce launches forward and pulls you into a huge, a huge so tight you had gasped. He wasn’t hugging you too tight as though you couldn’t breathe— he just hugged you with desperation and worry.

“Woah! hey, hey, it’s okay.” You reassured, patting his back. “I’m okay.”

He was so happy to hear your voice.

“ONE OF THE MANY PRIVILEGES OF SERVING AS YOUR COUNCILOR IS HAVING THE OCCASION NOW AND AGAIN TO STAND BEHIND THIS PODIUM TO BEHOLD SO MANY JOINED TOGETHER NOT BY BIRTH OR DICTUM BUT BY ALL THAT WE SHARE.” MEL SPOKE as you stood by the other guards to keep watch, your back was leaned against the wall as the wound with the patch on your side was being healed. Your biceps flexing under the light as your toned abs still hurting from the explosion, but the wounds would heal, you were sure.

You glanced down at the tattoo on your hip and let your thumb graze over it, remembering when it was given.

You see one of the enforcers walk past you, you look them up and down by their attire before your brows furrowed— something felt wrong.

Heading into the crowd you lock gazes with vi, the both of you nodding towards one another before following the enforcer. But another person caught your attention as well, making you turn around and face the other way.

“The hell..?” You whisper lowly.

You push past the crowd of civilians as your hips sway when walking, and you walked with a purpose.

To figure out who the hell these people were.

Walking over to the other enforcers you climbed over the railing, your thighs still hurting but of course you forgot to bring your crutches for support. But it’s whatever.

“Wait, wait, ma’am you can’t--“

“Excuse me, I’m an enforcer too.” You say firmly as your eyes narrowed at the man. “So I can get pass, just like the rest of you.”

“We can’t even go in, so we can’t let you in either.”one of the enforcers replies. “Plus, you’re still injured from the attack so…”

Your piercing (e/c) eyes looked into the man’s brown ones, making his eyes widen a little— least to say, he was intimidated.

“Move, please,” you pleaded this time. “I feel like something is very wrong.”

Caitlyn looks over her shoulder and noticed the panicked look on your face— you would never randomly fuss about anything.

She knew something was wrong.

“Awful, isn’t it?”

Jayce looks over his shoulder when he hears a woman’s voice.

“Losing a loved one.”

When Jayce slowly turns around, the woman slips off her mask as she grabs her chainsaw, swining it at Jayce who barely dodged out of the way quickly.

Everyone starts screaming and shouting, rushing off to find somewhere safe.

“Get all the civilians to safety.” You told the enforcers before turning around to go and find Jayce, your leg still hurting from the explosion. you couldn’t walk around with a weak and injured leg but you thought against it.

“Jayce!” You shouted, searching for him. “Where are you? Jayce?!”

Someone suddenly slams you into a wall, making you hit the solid platform hard. A weak cry of pain escapes past your lips as you slid down the wall, clutching your arm.

Staggering to your knees, you rushed to get away from whatever was chasing you.

Get away, get away, get away

That was just going through your mind.

Something slashes in your back through your coat, “ah!” You shriek as you collapsed to your knees and hit the ground. Back arched as you tried crawling away from whatever had attacked you.

They grab onto your hair, arm wrapping around your neck once they finally got the chance to turn you around, the air in your lungs seemed to have collapsed the second they tighten their large hand around your throat.

You kick and flail your legs around as you gasped for air, eyes heavy and face turning blue as you choked— the breath you were now trying to breathe was very toxic seeping into your nostrils and throat.

You use your fists to hit at the man’s hands, he watched with a sadistic grin on his lips as the life in your eyes were starting to fade.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as the life in your eyes seemed to have been fading.

“Get the fuck away from her!” Vi shouted as she rushed towards the much bigger man and knocked him in the face with her knee.

You collapsed to the ground, gasping for air as you clutched at your own throat.

Vi rushed over to you with concern, cupping your cheek as she leaned over you. “Are you okay? does anything hurt?”

“Vi?” You croaked weakly, grasping at her wrist.

Vi presses your hand against her fast beating chest, concern wiping her features. “It’s me. It’s me. you’re okay.”

She helps you up, “I’ll be right back. go and try to find cait, okay?”

You nodded before rushing off to find caitlyn.

“Cait!” You called out.

You couldn’t even get as far before you hit the ground, passing out.

END OF CHAPTER ONE

[slasherbvnnie]

Until We Found You

Hello! This is my first time ever posting onto here, so please excuse any mistakes or any tags that may be missing. I wanted to write about a poly!ghostface au and age up all the characters and place them into college. I hope this gets at least a few reads!

Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX

Context: Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Eventual Poly!Ghostface x reader, Eventual NSFW, All characters 18+

You bit down on the tip of your pencil, chewing the metal part of it as you spaced out for the hundredth time today. A few days ago news broke of one of your best friends being killed, Casey Becker, and like every day since that fateful night, news reporters were swarming the campus. Woodsboro University was famous overnight for it, a crazed killer on the loose in the town and no one knew why Casey and her boyfriend Steve were the victims. What made it truly unnerving was that no one knew if they were going to be the only ones.

It didn’t make you scared, not really at least, you were more intrigued than worried if you were going to be the next person to get a mysterious phone call. No, you spent the next morning with Randy and learned all about what happened. How Steve was found bound to the chair, duct tape and blood practically branded onto him, and how the Beckers found Casey. She was one of your best friends, you couldn’t deny you felt like you needed some therapy for not crying for more than maybe an hour over her, but something in you was more interested in who did it.

That was what was on your mind for the hundredth time today, any of Casey’s boyfriends all the way to fucking pre-k could be a suspect, maybe her family, or maybe it was some random stranger who decided to take their anger out on an unsuspecting teenage girl. Randy and you talked all first period about your suspicions on who it could be, even accusing each other of being the killer, it did fit after all, the two horror buffs who knew every goddamn easter egg in every horror movie there was, it seemed perfect.

“Sidney, can you please tell your friend the answer to at least make it seem like she was listening?” Ms. Crane asked, Sidney nudging you and whispering the answer as the class laughed. “ah, um, phosphorus gas.” You answered, looking at Sidney with wide eyes after you answered. “Phosphine, but I will take that. You guys can pack up, let me take role before you all leave.” Ms. Crane said with a sigh.

“What’s up with you? Are you totally sure you don’t want to go to the grief counselor after school? I mean even Tate went-“ “Sid, I’m fine, seriously. I just, it’s freaky is all. I mean not knowing who did it? What if they have a thing for college chicks, I think we fit into that category very well and-“ “And we will be fine, it was probably just a one-time thing…I mean it's more likely that it is, right?” Sidney asked as she packed her bag, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, if you want you can stay at my place for the week, my dad’s on a trip and I would kinda enjoy the company,” she offered, smiling at you reassuringly. You gave a nod, “yeah, let me just at least spend tonight at my place, my mom will kill me if I miss dinner tonight and take off for a week out of the blue.” “Are you sure you’re really 19 and not 9?” Sidney asked jokingly, earning a laugh from you.

After dinner you had taken a shower, your parents had gone out for the night to take a late-night date- which you theorized was them renting a motel to not risk traumatizing you. You brushed out your hair as you sat down on your vanity chair, putting it into a braid before you went to bed. Your cat was sitting peacefully on your bed, moving every now and then to change her position before darting out of your room. “Irena!” You called after her, scoffing when she didn’t come back to the room. You put your hairbrush down onto your vanity, taking a look in the mirror before getting up from your seat. “I hope you don’t think you are eating even more food, missy, you got fed so much while I was at class today,” you said, acting as if Irena could really understand you. You made your way to your door, nearly walking out before noticing a paper had fallen onto the ground near your desk. You picked it up, reading the headline, Casey Becker and Steve Orth- funerals to be held on Friday the 27th at 9-11 AM. You sighed and set it down on the other papers stacked on your desk.

You walked out of your room, heading downstairs “Irena! Come on, I wanna go to bed,” you whined out, calling the cat to your room. You found her in the living room, hiding under the couch and refusing to come to you. “Fine, I’ll leave you a blanket out and don’t you dare come scratching at my door at 3 AM,” you told her, going to the hallway closet to get a blanket out for her. Once you had gotten one, you spread it out across the couch for her and said goodnight.

You were about halfway to your room when your phone began to buzz, digging it out of your pocket and seeing your mom's number you quickly answered. “Hey, what's up? You guys heading back already,” You asked, continuing up to your room.

“Heading back? Who said I ever left?” A strange voice asked on the other line, making you pause for a moment as you moved to make sure it was your mom. “Listen asshole, I don’t have more than 15 dollars in my bank account so have fun with whatever hot cheetos and mountain dew you can get with that,” you said before hanging up on them, putting your phone back into your pocket. You were up the stairs now, deciding to use the bathroom before you went to bed for the night but before you could open the door your phone rang again. “Didn’t I already say I don’t have money? What the fuck do you want?” You asked angrily, “Irena, right? Like Irena Dubrovna? Who did you prefer, Simone or Natassja?” The same voice asked you, making you look down the stairs. Irena hadn’t moved yet and no one was around her, or at least from what you could see. “If you hurt my fucking cat I will personally cut off your balls and feed them to he-“ A laugh from the caller cut you off, “I don’t have fun with animals. I’m not Bundy or Dahmer, I like to see my victims, human victims…struggle.” You heard your parent's bedroom door open, letting out a scream before running into your room and slamming the door shut, locking it quickly before the person began to bang on it. You looked around, going to your window and trying to lift it open.

The door cracked, it was like the scene from the shining, except this killer bore a white mask, you recognized it from the Halloween store- father death. You struggled with the window again, before giving up and grabbing the lamp from your bedside table and throwing it at them. The killer moved out of the way before they were hit, pushing their body against the door once more and climbing in through the opening. You could see them fiddle with their knife as if they had held it in their hands a hundred times already and were skilled at fidgeting with it.

You grabbed a glass organizer from your desk, taking the scissors from it before chucking the holder at them. The papers you had stacked before scattered from the throw as they fell down. You rushed to the window as they struggled to get up but never heard them stand. When your head whipped around to check if they were behind you, you instead saw them looking at the papers around them.

Masked killer, Casey and Steve headlines, Maureen Prescott, Cotton Weary trials, even the cutouts you had of Sidney from court. You were obsessed. There were drawings, suspects lists, hell all these needed were red kiss marks and ‘please fuck me mr ghostface!’ written in pink glitter pen ink.

You stared wide-eyed at them when you saw their gaze now on you, their head cocked to the side as a laugh sounded from behind the mask. Just then you heard the sound of gravel being crushed around from the driveway, your parent's car was pulling in, you saw them getting out from your window. When you turned back you noticed the person was gone, you ran downstairs and met your parents at the door, crying and beginning to blubber on about what nearly happened. 

[vampiristar]

Viktor knew all along he was about to die in episode 6 because that’s what he needed to become the perfect being.

Let me explain:

In the beginning of the episode, Sky informed us that Viktor himself said « all systems have limits. ». Later, we have Singed who told Viktor is getting weaker: he cannot save everyone and he needed to survive. Viktor knew it already, he knew his arcane/hextech evolution is not perfect yet.

But strangely, Viktor answered to both of them that Vander deserved the risk.

Vander was an exceptional human and leader for Zaun. Even with his transformation, a part of him remained intact, thanks to the beautiful connections and memories he had with his loved ones—Jinx, Vi, Silco, Vi and Jinx’s parents.

Viktor was so touched by Vander’s beautiful soul that he wanted to give emotions and humanity a chance again.

Viktor genuinely wanted to save Vander and he became so absorbed in this goal that he forgot about Jayce’s arrival, which explains why none of the people in his sect tried to stop Jayce.

When he had seen Jayce, Viktor was not surprised. He knew what was coming because he told him himself to visit him in the beginning of the episode.

Even though he couldn’t save Vander as he had hoped, Viktor didn’t lose. Because with Jayce killing him, Viktor realised the true purpose of everything he had set into motion.

Viktor had his confirmation: losing his power and his death was the true limits in his arcane/hextech form. He couldn’t reach for more again with it and have a real impact on human life. He also solidified his belief while witnessing raw, unfiltered human emotions in each persons in the camp—grief, anger, despair, and love:

Emotions were a burden, chaining humans to their suffering and flaws.

So, yes. Viktor allowed Jayce to kill him, knowing that his “death” would pave the way for his ultimate rebirth—a new, perfected form of existence, free of the flaws he had come to realise. This was never his defeat; it was his final step toward his final glorious evolution.

[astral-herald]

arcane's depiction vs. endorsement and why it flopped

~ i think i'm finally ready to complain ~

My general opinion of season 2 is potential squandered. My recent post about Viktor's storyline as an intentional tragedy lets ya'll know that I did, for the most part, enjoy his arc (hot take, I know, and I know lots of people disagree with me, and I fully understand). If he'd gotten the screen time necessary to pull it off, it would have been legendary in my book. But the lack of screen time, even in the case of the season's eventual BBEG, speaks to my greatest issue with Arcane: no commitment.

(Critical) Discussion of Jinx, Ekko, Sevika, Vi, and Viktor below!

Arcane, as a tragedy (I've said this word too many times to count smh), asks the plot, "what is the worst thing that could possibly happen to this character?" and answers in kind. This is why we get Viktor's lost agency until the very end (and like I've said in the past, I completely understand and hold space for those who dislike this route).

If we ask this same question of the following characters, the scope of loss and despair innate to Arcane's final narrative is made very clear:

Sevika: a revolutionary forever devoted to the cause, not the individual, is nominated as an individual to represent the masses in a governmental body that has no interest in her class-conscious ideal.

Ekko: the people's hero in every sense of the word who never sees the fruits of his labor/sacrifice and who goes without the acknowledgement he deserves (more than any other Arcane character).

Vi: the ultimate victim of Piltover police brutality coerced, through grief, trauma, and loss, into working for the system that oppressed her. Even Caitlyn, for all her good intentions, seems incapable of ever understanding this.

Viktor: a genius hellbent on ending the same suffering he endured at the hands of Piltover's oppression has his agency revoked, driving him to inflict the same choicelessness he endured on Zaunite innocents.

On paper, these arcs are devastatingly sensical. And we don't always need happy endings in our stories (I'd sure like them, more often than not, of course). We can and should witness the harsh realities of class oppression if we don't experience them ourselves. The writing team painstakingly crafted and foreshadowed these worst-case scenarios throughout season 1. For example, in 1x07, Ekko being immediately shot at by Marcus at the bridge confirms our suspicions that Piltover Enforcers are a lost cause, not just full of bad apples but internally broken beyond repair. It felt that, despite all the hope, this struggle was doomed, and we were careening toward something dark - "In the pursuit of great, we failed to do good."

Had these arcs been successful, audiences would be confronted with the systemic issues we see today that implicate the physical and mental health of downtrodden individuals on account of lazy, prejudiced leadership. This actively happens. It is actively happening, sans the fantasy of it all. This is where Arcane should have shined: they depict the tragedy of these characters, but DO NOT endorse it.

But Arcane chickens out and the entire thing fails. Here are the Flop Era Spark Notes:

Maddie is the egregious bad apple stereotype that absolves all other agents of the regime. She clearly is not a stand-in for Enforcers at large because, all of a sudden, they're capable of coordinated artillery strikes that are necessary to the defense of Piltover, which the viewer must suddenly and abundantly care about. So glad she died. Also, Arcane, you cannot introduce abject warfare in the last 30 minutes of your show successfully.

Jinx's "revolutionary" plot was a red herring, and Sevika humbly vying for the spot was never delivered upon. They pay lip service to the Undercity organizing, but the scene is interrupted for larger (messier) plot concerns almost immediately. No commitment. No depiction to even refrain from endorsing.

Ekko and the Firelight Tree. Clearly this was set up as a means of showing how Piltover's mistakes were physically seeping into the only sanctuary left in Zaun. Yet this is just...never resolved? If someone has some insights into this, please let me know. No depiction. No discussion about endorsement.

What could Vi specifically gain by aligning with the Enforcers/Piltover? Human connection with Cait, sure, but why return to them in 2x06? Vi's character begged all season for development, but she kept returning to her nonsensical error of her ways (looking backwards) until the very end, and this is basically what "kills" Jinx. This is a nod to her lonesomeness post 1x03, sure, but to what end? Again, why the Enforcers?!? Oh, because now that Cait has been redeemed and Sevika is in Piltover to save the day, there are no systemic issues left to fix? Sure, Riot.

WHY DEVELOP VIKTOR'S ENTIRE HEXCORE ARC OFF SCREEN?I'M ADMITTEDLY BIASED ABOUT THIS, BUT THE AMOUNT OF DISCUSSIONS I'VE HAD WITH VIKTOR NATION ABOUT THE DEGREE TO WHICH HE WAS INFLUENCED/MANIPULATED BY THE HEXCORE (now that we know Sky was a manifestation of his humanity, not her Actual Self) IS DESPICABLE. HIS COMPROMISED AGENCY NEEDS TO BE FRONT AND CENTER AND OBVIOUS, OR ELSE IT SURE SEEMS LIKE RIOT IS ENDORSING THE LACK OF AGENCY IN VIKTOR'S STORY. I shouldn't have to make 1k word posts to explain this. I'll do it because I love him with my whole heart, but still.

I begged and pleaded for months for BBEG Viktor (I'm really proud of my predictions from October), but by introducing a villain/conflict beyond the Piltover/Zaun dichotomy, Riot severed all threads of class conflict that were so rife and exciting in season 1. The proletariat and the bourgeoise will never coalesce like they did by the end of 2x09 without systemic revolution. Sevika is just one individual. Ekko's people need him. Jinx and Viktor are gone. Vi is downtrodden, and we have SO LITTLE to show for it.

In summary, we just didn't get enough explicit explanation of any character development to make Arcane-As-Tragedy successful. They did not stick the landing. The finale leaves us all with various bad tastes in our mouth. Instead of lamenting the harsh reality of oppression, I'm confused about what Riot prioritizes and agrees with, what they aim to criticize, and what they condemn.

I'll die on the hill that revoking Viktor's agency has the potential to be one of the greatest tragic hero storylines I've ever seen, but it's a lonely hill because I'm fighting against the writing team's consistent flops. At least Balayage Viktor was so gorgeous.

shameless self plug for my earlier discussion about the innate political clashes in season 1 that were abandoned for flashy fantasy fights in season 2:

[bwat5-blog]

The Commander: Part Two

**Spoilers For All Of Arcane**

***LONG I AM NOT KIDDING***

We jump back into the exploration of Caitlyn's story ash she leads the strike team into Zaun. She names three objective:

Locate Jinx

Dismantle Shimmer

Neutralize any agents still loyal to Silco

Now in the interest of clarity and rational thinking, let us take a moment to examine each of these objectives without consideration of Caitlyn's current mental state, as well as an objective look into the use of the grey. I will indicate the beginning and end of this section clearly. The reason I am making a point of this, is so that you know I am going to discuss the moral and ethical concerns here. But, this is really when people started losing their mind regarding Caitlyn's arc so lets begin with turning down the temperature, and taking a more rational look at what unfolds.

The Strike Team:

"Can I do the right thing for the wrong reason? Is it bad that I'm making friends with my demons, and living by a couple deadly sins just to make sure I finish what you began..... let it rain down hellfire, can't hide away. it's judgement day, and no one gets out alive"("Hellfire" Fever 333")

Logic Based Examination Of the Strike Team's Objectives And Methods:

Locate Jinx- As members of the audience, it is easy to hear Caitlyn and feel outrage. We have seen Jinx's suffering and struggle since she was a little girl named Powder. We have seen that Silco used Caitlyn's presence in the undercity to drive Vi and Jinx apart, and that Sevika did so with the express intent of driving Jinx further into chaos. But to the entity that is "Piltover", what does Jinx actually represent?

A- The theft of the gemstone in which six enforcers were killed, and a building was burned down.

B- The bombing of the Bridge, in which several enforcers were killed.

C- The assassination of three councilors, destruction of the council chamber, paralyzing Salo from the waist down, and maiming Shoola's eye

D- As I stated in part one, although we the audience know that Jinx was not involved in the attack on the memorial, in the wake of her killing the council members and being known as the "daughter" of Silco, it is completely reasonable that the people of Piltover are linking her to this attack as well.

Caitlyn's emotional link aside, Jinx has come to represent a dangerous and highly intelligent threat to the safety of Piltover. They do not see her wandering the streets of Zaun afterward, ready to die. They see that a violent terrorist gained access to the most powerful innovation of their life time, weaponized it extremely fast implying her brilliance, conducted what they understand to be a political assassination, and then sent soldiers into Piltover during a time of grief to kill more. Again, this is all to be considered without Caitlyn's impact. It is simply the facts as they understand them.

2. Dismantle Shimmer- Shimmer and Hextech are the answers to each other. Topside has their great source of power, and the undercity has theirs. And while the intent to dismantle it seems to have more to do with taking that weapon away from their enemies than anything, Shimmer is a dangerous, unstable, highly addictive drug that caused a tremendous amount of suffering in the undercity. It's long term exposure leading to addiction, mutation, and death.

3. Neutralize Any Agents Still Loyal To Silco- So what we see when the strike team begins their operation, is that they are targeting the Chem-Barons and their operations primarily having to do with Shimmer. The Chem-Barons are dangerous crime lords pushing Shimmer and murdering those who stand against them. As we see in "Watch It All Burn" they are ripping the undercity apart in their struggle for power, despite Sevika's efforts to make them stop.

"Dirty little animals, you cannibals, eat your supper.. one by one all these vultures keep coming".. ("Sucker" Marcus king)

These are NOT good people. They are not freedom fighters. They are not speaking truth to power and standing for the oppressed. They are violent and selfish criminals who even if they believed in a cause once, have long since abandoned it in favor of greed, and power.

Now, moving forward from that look at their objectives, let's talk about what got our hash-tagger (I haven't forgotten about you and welcome back!) and their friends rage smashing their keyboards.

The Grey-

Origin-

Using the Kiramman key, Caitlyn learns that her forebears created the ventilation system used filter the toxins from the air in the undercity. It is first described as "factory smog trapped underground", and from what we are given to understand, Piltover scientists have weaponized it for the strike team's purposes. Although we do see Silco use some version of it to bring the Chem-Barons into line when they question him.

Confirmed Effects-

Painful irritation to eyes: We this across its multiple uses for the most recent example, look at Cait's eyes during the final fight against Ambessa in season 2.

Nasal irritation: Heenot seems to sneeze quite a bit from exposure

Painful irritation to the throat: Every person exposed immediately starts to cough, hack, that sort of thing quite violently

Trouble breathing to the point of incapacitation: Multiple examples, some people seem to take it better than others.

Now, what did I not list? Death. There is a reason. There is not a single indication anywhere that the use of The Grey in these short term combat situations has killed anyone. In fact, we have repeated examples of characters who are exposed and are very much alive:

Caitlyn Kiramman: Exposed during fight against Ambessa and her forces.

Steb: Exposed during fight against Ambessa and her forces.

Heenot: Left hanging exposed in the grey By Jinx.

Jinx: Exposed when the strike team comes for her in the arcade.

Finn (dead but not because of gas): Exposed by Silco in season one. Now in fairness, whatever Silco had was clearly not the same form as what the strike team are using, but if anything it seems more violent, as the Chem-Barrons react far more quickly than we see people reacting to the grey.

Throughout Arcane, there are multiple statements regarding the "poisoning of our air" when people of Zaun speak about Topside. This is to do with pollution,smog and runoff from the mines and industry of Piltover. That's what the strike team is using, weaponized pollution to incapacitate enemies and drive people off the streets who are not fighting. And just like severe pollution would there be long term health effects if you were consistently exposed? Certainly. We see this in the diagrams Caitlyn is inspecting regarding the ventilation. But that is not what is happening here. In order to maintain proper perspective and not let rhetoric blind us, below you will find a very brief list of real world chemical weapons and a few of their side effects:

Sarin Gas: Cardiac arrest, coma, paralysis, respiratory failure

VX Gas: Seizures, Increased fluid buildup in airway and digestive tract, flaccid paralysis, death

They are quite clearly not the same. And if you consider the fact that they are chasing someone who is quite fond of using explosives, using a weapon that clears innocent people off of the streets and incapacitates enemies meaning they don't have to kill them, is far from the great crime against humanity people have made it out to be.

End Of Logic Only Based Analysis

Okay, now that we have that out of the way let's get back to why we are all here, Caitlyn Kiramman. If you refer to the lyrics of the song that plays during a look into the strike-team's actions, even just the first line tells us where her head space is. "Can I do the right thing, for the wrong reasons". The reason I just went through all of that above, is that it is easy to see how Caitlyn can justify all of this in her mind. The Strike Team is the alternative to a full-scale invasion, first off. And they want to dismantle the operations of the violent criminals that are tearing the Undercity apart, as well as catch the person who brought this most recent storm of Piltover's wrath upon the innocents of Zaun.

But as we see, Caitlyn is falling further and further into her rage and pain as this operation continues. Even in the cinematic for hellfire, her face is so clear. This mission is not about justice or liberating Zaun from the criminals so willing to harm their own, it is about revenge. If you recall, in part one I discussed and cited the potential emotional and mental effects of exposure to violence someone may suffer from. Caitlyn has in NO WAY BEGUN TO HEAL. And now she is leading her team in urban warfare, in the streets of Zaun losing more of herself day by day.

To conclude, we need to discuss two primary factors in all of this regarding Caitlyn's mental state, as we lead up to the battle of the ventilation chamber.

The Grey:

Have the fandom completely and totally lost their minds regarding the grey. Yes. I'm sorry, but yes. Take a moment and consider if they weren't using it, it scares away innocents and incapacitates those who would fight. Whatever the death toll was during this operation, it would have been much worse if they had a full-on firefight in every situation.... And to those who say "well they didn't have to be there in the first place" remember that the alternative here is a full-scale military invasion with hex-tech wielding enforcers. After the memorial attack there is no question, Piltover is coming.

However, what it is also, it is a perversion of Caitlyn's families good work. A twisting of what her forebears designed to give the people of the undercity good clean air. The point here is following the theme given to us by song in the beginning, the right thing for the wrong reasons. Caitlyn is able to hide from the truth of the darkness growing in her because this all seems so righteous. But the woman who loves her and she loves in return sees through her, which brings us to another consideration.

Vi:

Vi's turn as an Enforcer is extremely controversial in the fandom, and there is a lot of discussion about the various facets of her story. Here, we are focusing on Caitlyn, but for what I should hope are beyond obvious reasons, Vi is immensely important to Caitlyn's story. So that end, we need to understand a few points:

Vi made her own choice: Listen y’all, anyone who has been keeping up with me knows Vi is my favorite character. I have vigorously defended the character against the bizarre and idiotic criticisms that have been levelled at her since this season and will continue to do so happily. But people blaming Caitlyn for Vi being here are wrong. There is a conversation to be had about Caitlyn asking Vi to come and wear the uniform (and we are going to), but Vi made the decision for herself. No one put a gun to her head.

Caitlyn asked Vi to come and wear the uniform: As previously stated, Vi made her own choice. But, I think if we consider how Caitlyn has treated Vi throughout the story, the fact that she would ever ask Vi to come and do this, to wear the symbol of her parents murderers and do violence in Zaun's streets, speaks fairly significantly to her tunnel vision regarding their mission and her lessening ability to consider the consequences of her actions as she becomes more and more violent. Caitlyn has only ever been kind and loving to Vi, but the part of her that has to know what all of this is doing to her, is sinking further and further below the waves.

The Kiss-

Before confronting Jinx and Sevika, Vi asks Caitlyn for a moment, having seen the darkness consuming her. They come to an agreement on sending the rest of the team home, for fear of Jinx using their inexperience against them. It is then that they have a discussion that will impact both of them for months to come:

Caitlyn: "I can't let her get away again. Are you sure you're ready to..?"

Vi: "My sister is gone... there's only Jinx now. It has to end. I'm so sorry about your mother, I'm sorry I can't bring her back. Please just, everyone in my life has changed. Promise me you won't change"

Vi tears up, clearly overwhelmed and Caitlyn kisses her, saying "I won't".

It's a very moving moment and one fans of their love have been waiting for a very long time. Sadly, it is also quite clear that it was a doomed promise to ask for. Because the reality is that Caitlyn has already changed and been changing. It isn't a fair thing of Vi to expect Caitlyn to remain unchanged in this overwhelming situation. But Vi isn't being malicious, she has lost quite literally everyone she has ever cared for, and sees the last person she has left changing in front of her, she is afraid. And for Caitlyn's part, she sees the woman she loves, showing the vulnerability and fear and need of comfort that she knows Vi will only let her see, and she wants to be that for her. Wants to make her feel better. But on some level Caitlyn knows she can't honor that promise, so she doesn't make one. She says "i won't".

The Ventilation Chamber:

        Finally, for the first time since Jinx killed her mother, Caitlyn is face to face with the living embodiment of her nightmares. I am certainly not going over the entire list again, but I encourage you to revisit the list of reasons Caitlyn has to hate/fear Jinx.  When it all comes to a head, Caitlyn has her rifle on Jinx, with Isha trying to shield her, and Vi makes her stop. Trying to reason with her due to the risk of hitting Isha. After Sevika detonates the charges and Vi and Cait are thrown into the next chamber, Caitlyn insists she had the shot still in defiance of Vi’s bringing up the risk of hitting Isha. They lash out verbally at one another, with Caitlyn hitting Vi in the stomach with her rifle and leaving her behind. We need to more closely examine what we are seeing to understand this situation appropriately:

Vi tries to call out to Caitlyn repeatedly and tell her “She’s a child”, all Caitlyn responds with is “Move, she’s not getting away again”: We know Caitlyn. There is quite literally no scenario in which the Caitlyn we know would endanger the life of a child. But here, it’s like she can’t even see Isha. She is wide eyed, breathing heavy, looks incredibly angry, and even fires twice, striking Vi’s glove once.  She is showing extreme tunnel vision and single-minded rage putting the life of a child and the woman she loves at risk with her actions. Everything about the way she is behaving suggests a severe episode related to her PTSD, standing face to face with the source of her trauma.

Caitlyn tells Vi she is no different than Jinx because of the blood in her veins and hits her in the stomach with her rife stock, abandoning her: Okay, as I have said, Vi is my favorite character. So yes, when I saw this part I wanted to reach through the screen and choke her out. But again, we have to take a step back for a moment. I know I have not done much of a job in explaining it, but Caitlyn has been demonstrating consistently mounting psychological trauma since this all started. Now she has survived a violent confrontation and come face to face with the symbol of all of it. Just a refresher as to what she is feeling in this moment:

Guilt- She had a shot on Jinx that very first time. So, she has been carrying that with her regarding her mother’s death

Hatred- I think it’s totally fair to say she legitimately and completely hates Jinx given everything that has happened

Fear- She is terrified of Jinx. I have listed all of the reasons why, but for Caitlyn this moment is being face to face with the monster and at the end of the movie. Except in this version, the person you love stops you from finishing the monster. (in Caitlyn’s emotionally overloaded POV)

Betrayal- Although Vi had a totally valid reason for stopping Caitlyn, Caitlyn is not in a place where she can see that. In this moment all she can process is that Vi told her she was ready for it to end before they went into that chamber, and then Vi stopped her.

Shame- Look at her eyes a moment after she hits Vi. She is clearly full of regret and leaves quickly

As I have stated previously, simply from a layman’s perspective there seems to be quite of bit of evidence of Caitlyn’s trauma wreaking havoc on her ability to process and deal with this situation in any way that she normally would.

A Lamb To The Slaughter:

Standing at the general assembly while Ambessa makes her speech, we need to take stock of where Caitlyn is at this moment emotionally and mentally:

Survived series of multiple violent incidents that almost claimed her life over very short time

She is twenty-three years old

Abducted from her childhood home and terrorized

Mother murdered

Survived attack at mother’s memorial

Lead team in urban warfare in Zaun

Stopped from getting revenge on jinx for all of it

Romantic partner is gone

Grieving, exhausted, angry, afraid, guilty, betrayed, and full of hate

So when Ambessa Medarda, a warlord, a literal leader of men promises justice and names her the commander, she has no chance at resisting her. She is vulnerable and alone, with a highly intelligent older figure filling the role of the parent she lost, telling her to weaponize her suffering, promising her justice. Sound Familiar?

Before we move into discussing her time as the "Dictator", I do also want to draw attention to something. As I said, Caitlyn is 23 years old. Every person in that assembly knows who she is. They know she is extremely young, and despite her remarkable accomplishments she is also in immense emotional turmoil. Do any of the older people there do anything as a warlord in her fifties calls Caitlyn and essentially rubberstamp's her forehead with the word "SCAPEGOAT!". No they don't. And please, don't misunderstand this to mean I do think Caitlyn is accountable for her mistakes and decisions both up til now and moving forward. But you have to actively be ignoring details not to see that Caitlyn has been manipulated and used by Ambessa.

The "Dictator":

First and foremost, a word on the pacing of this part of Caitlyn's story. There are many varying opinions on the handling of pacing in season 2. I have made mine known, and so will spare you the diatribe here. I will simply say, that for such an important part of her story, we don't spend a lot of time with her. The fact that she doesn't have one scene clearly indicating she is thinking of Vi is a felony offense. I don't care where the pillows are with Maddie.

Hashtagger! We are finally here, she is the figurehead of a system of marshal law. Very exciting stuff. I know you have been waiting, eager to use the word fascist and other fun names. But stick with me. You will be surprised what you can learn when you actually watch the show.

What We Actually Know:

Per comments from Amanda Overton, it has been 3-6 months since the events of "Finally Got The Name Right"

She is in a romantic relationship with Maddie, who we have the hindsight of knowing is a Noxian Spy

Zaun has been fully occupied with checkpoints and inspections

Jinx has become a symbol to Zaun

Ambessa conducting secret hex-tech experiments and brutal interrogations

She has forbidden use of the cells like Vi was in

Has become close.. or at least something like it with Ambessa

In the time since we last saw her, Caitlyn has become a very different person than we left off. She seems tired, cold and withdrawn. She frequently expresses doubt and concern over how things are happening but cannot bring herself to put a stop to it when given the chance at various points (or more accurately being tested to see if she will try to put a stop to it I suppose). The fandom at large has taken this part of Caitlyn's story and used it to turn her into Idi Amin. This is completely laughable. While Caitlyn is responsible for her mistakes and her bad decisions, the truth here is that she is a young woman who has been totally submerged by her inner darkness. She is being manipulated to the highest degree, and has been made a scapegoat by a woman she has come to trust. First and foremost to get an understanding of this time for her, we have to discuss she and Ambessa.

Caitlyn & Ambessa-

Much like Silco and Jinx, I do not doubt that Ambessa has come to care for Caitlyn in some way. Ambessa has focused a great deal on teaching her and does seem to actually believe in her to some degree, as Rictus will later share with her. But ultimately, Caitlyn has been a target of Ambessa's manipulations much longer than she can image. We know that the Memorial attack was orchestrated to exacerbate the conflict between the two cities. And when Caitlyn enters the council chamber afterward to announce her strike-team's mission, Ambessa is quite clearly impressed. So when it all comes to head after the Strike Team's mission has failed, Ambessa moves in, filling the hole in Caitlyn's life and guiding her away from the light. We learn some important things in these interactions between or about them, regarding Ambessa's manipulation of her:

When speaking to Rictus, Ambessa says "the moment WE seize control of this backwater". She is not talking about Caitlyn. There are no illusions here as to who is in charge.

"I've learned so much from her..she delivered us Zaun as she promised... who knows how many would have died". Caitlyn talking about Ambessa to Maddie. The Noxian spy Ambessa put in Caitlyn's bed.

Caitlyn and Ambessa acknowledge mutual lack of trust between them.

Caitlyn questions Ambessa over violence being done by them. States arrests require cause. We see that Ambessa likes that fire in Caitlyn , and they have conversation regarding forgiveness: "Maybe you have the strength I do not.. to forgive.. and trust in tomorrow"... This is a powerful moment because Ambessa is using it to guilt Caitlyn into keep fighting, but in reality it becomes Caitlyn's greatest strength.

Ambessa trains Caitlyn in combat, calls her kin. And teaches Caitlyn the very thing she will one day use to defeat her.. sacrifice

"There are moments when your in so deep, it feels easier to just swim down...." (It's quiet uptown, Hamilton)

We are not witnessing the reign of a power hungry despot in Caitlyn. We are seeing a broken and angry young woman whose greatest failing is believing what this vastly more experienced mentor is telling her is the right thing. And even when she knows deep down it's not, cannot bring herself to believe there is any hope left. We are given many examples of the conflict she is feeling:

"Up again?"- We learn from Maddie Caitlyn has not been sleeping well

"I never thought it would go on this long... I don't know what I thought"- Caitlyn expressing clear regret over how things have gone down

Questions Ambessa over Rictus inciting violence

Questions Ambessa as to why peace is always the justification for violence

Has forbidden the use of cells like the one Vi was in

Considers Singed a monster for creating Shimmer

As I have stated in other documents moving forward from here especially we just take off at a dead spring regarding Caitlyn's story. From here on out we are dealing with her making things right with Vi and the fallout of that decision regarding Ambessa, and of her time as the Dictator over the two cities. I know I have done the pivotal moments of Caitlyn's story in the past, but given the pacing here it still seems the best way to dig into this, so that is how I will proceed.

Reunion with Vi & Beginning Of Redemption:

Vi and Caitlyn finally meet again, on the ridge outside of the commune. Caitlyn is scouting and jumps Vi, not realizing who she is due to her appearance. I have spoken on this quite a bit recently, and I even enjoyed a lovely conversation with some people who feel differently than I do. But that being said, this is how this all reads for me. Caitlyn has shut herself off completely to the chance of Vi still caring for her. All that we have seen of Caitlyn during her Dictatorship is that she has essentially given up. She won't risk pulling out of Zaun for fear of something worse happening, she bends to Ambessa with every explanation of why these wrong doings are necessary, you get the idea. So she certainly is closing herself off and distancing herself from the chance of the woman she loves still caring for her. Until she hears her nickname.

Now I have seen someone say that her eyes soften because it means the distance between them, like she is upset. I disagree. Caitlyn is extremely stiff until Vi calls her cupcake. And if Vi was holding her at arms length by using that nickname, she wouldn't trust her with the information about Vander. In truth, it takes the love of her life, a woman who refused to give up on those she cares for completely even in the darkest of times, to reignite hope in Caitlyn that there is a way out of that darkness. And so she makes the decision to help. Now what does that actually mean:

Turning on Ambessa

Losing support of the Noxian soldiers

Losing control of undercity which means Jinx

Starting A War

This takes us to our next moment showing the changes in her. Once the violence in the commune has already started.

Choosing Love: Part One

It's a quick moment. But right then and there the object of all of Caitlyn's hatred and rage is running by her, her back exposed to Caitlyn's rifle, and her eyes never leave Vi

Choosing Love: Part Two

So first of all not the right GIF i know, I couldn't find one of her in Caitlyn's bed for season 2. But the point, is that Caitlyn has been watching over Vi personally in her own room.

Taking Accountability:

Vi wakes from her injuries sustained saving her sisters life, and she and Caitlyn finally have a chance to talk. First and foremost she just looks so downtrodden. She knows how badly she has hurt the people she loves and is trying so hard to hold it together to make things right. But when she and Vi get into the crux of the conversation there are several important moments:

"I KNOW!"- Caitlyn admits to everything Vi is accusing her of

"We can't erase our mistakes, none of us"- Caitlyn including herself in those who have done wrong

Caitlyn then goes to speak with Jinx and gives us another big clue as to where her mind is:

"No amount of good deeds can undo our crimes"- Once again, placing herself on level ground with jinx

"Hating you.. I've hated myself.. I just don't have the energy for it any longer"- Admitting to hating herself for what she has done

Choosing Love: Part Three

Think back if you will, to the Battle of the Ventilation Chamber. Caitlyn Kiramman, wild eyes, ragged breath, completely enraged beyond reason, tried to take a shot at Jinx that could have easily killed a little girl, and then struck Vi and abandoned her. With everything they have through since that terrible day, Caitlyn has opened the way for the woman she loves, to free her mother's killer if she chooses. And when she finds Vi, she goes to comfort her, to validate her, to let her know that she is loved and that her undying heart is special and worthy of love as well. This is a truly beautiful scene that goes so far past a sex scene it's really hard to put into words how much meaning is conveyed in how it all plays out. There are a lot of excellent breakdowns and such if you wish to look, but for me I will say this. Caitlyn has shown Vi that her love for her is more important than hate could ever be. And in that moment, showed a strength Ambessa herself admitted she does not possess.

The Commander Reborn:

When she was a young girl, Caitlyn was asked a question. "Begs the question young Kiramman, what are you shooting for?" She knows now. Caitlyn stands on the front lines of the battle with her people. She is involved in a variety of incredible action sequences but the point, is that while she did lose herself, her values and her purpose to all of that rage and pain, she found her way back again.

Where once she allowed Ambessa Medarda to put her boot on the neck of the Undercity in the name of Caitlyn's grief, now Caitlyn stands on the front lines against her former mentor at only twenty-four years of age. And it is not without cost. She is stabbed, beaten, almost killed when Maddie's betrayal is revealed, and utilizing Ambessa's lesson sacrifices her own eye to stop her. And that is to say nothing of the mental trauma she has endured. But she is stronger, more resilient, and more sure of herself than she ever was. And, she is no longer alone.

With the occupation of Zaun ended, the council restored, and Caitlyn surrendering the Kiramman seat to none other than Sevika, she and Violet finally are allowed to just live, love, and heal with one another. It seems she has suspicions that Jinx survived the final battle (as we all do) but the show runners made the decision not to address that for now.

Caitlyn's story is truly one of dramatic change. She begins as a well intentioned but naïve enforcer, and ends as a respected commander who shed her own blood to keep the people she once failed safe. She and Vi have immeasurable healing before them, that is undeniable. But in such a dark and violent world, these two souls found one another and clawed their way back to each-other in the face of everything that was thrown at them. And it is through that bond that they will find their happiness.

My friends i went way... way... more in-depth on some of this than I thought. But I thought it was important... I think so much of the nonsense regarding this character is because she being labeled according to a single fast look instead of people seeing the truth of her incredible story. As always with these long ones, i feel like I probably wandered a little and if so I apologize. But I hope I managed to convey the depth of this character in at least some small way. To anyone patient enough to read this I thank you, to those who go even further and respond, I love learning more about this story from you all. Keep standing up for stories that matter.. Til next time!

[fxtalitygod]

EPILOGUE. ~Survival~

Genre: Historical AU, angst, mature, suggestive, arranged-marriage

Warnings: Dark themes, gore, graphic imagery, theme/depictions of horror, body horror, swearing/language, suggestive, pregnancy mentions, mentions and acts of suicide, arguments, mentions of adult murder, Pet name (Little Flower 1-2x) implied Stockholm Syndrome, grief imagery, images/depictions of dead bodies, murder, character death(s), slight misogynistic themes (if you squint), implied incest mentions

Word Count: 5.9k

A/N: Today marks the day I finish this series. Guys, I cannot believe it took me two years to finish this damned series. Do not get me wrong, I loved writing it, but boy, it was a major pain in my ass. As corny as it sounds, thank you all for sticking with me throughout this series. When I originally posted the first chapter, I did not expect ANY attention whatsoever; it was just a self-indulgent thing I wanted to write because I wanted a better representation of (Y/n) where, yeah, she may not be the strongest. However, she still knows how to make do with what she has and make that her strength. I also wanted to give a more realistic relationship with the pairing. As much as I love Sukuna's character, I did not believe him to be a character capable of "true love" but a character that values others but not in the way you might think. I'm talking literal value, currency value, and benefit value. I wanted a more realistic take on the story because I did not know how many more historical "Kuna," "Suku," or "Kunie" stories I could take. No hate for those who write it or those who enjoy it; it just isn't my personal cup of tea. I like true crime and dark stories (I have this serial killer project that I'm stoked about because I know I will get my group an A+), so I tend to enjoy those darker sides, which I believe is why I like Sukuna's character so much, he just feeds into that side of me. There are some of the fantasies I enjoy where Sukuna is non-canon, such as AUs and all that, but when it comes to JJK's storyline or his historical AUs, I tend to fall short of enjoyment of that type of fantasy.

Anywho, thank you all for sticking around and enjoy the epilogue. I hope it was worth the wait. I may or may not have written three times because my perfectionism kicked in every time I proofread it, and I found something I did not like and scraped half the chapter. I bet I'll find a little thing here and there when I post this. Still, it won't be anything noticeable, something along the lines of my tags and probably my TW, though Im usually very on point with those kinds of things. Still, it always seems that AFTER I make the post, I really start to notice things even after proofreading it 50x.

P.S. I plan to do a behind-the-scenes post on all my original ideas. I have worked on this little project for two years, so you bet I had alternatives. Feel free to send me asks or messages asking me about things you are curious about, and I will gladly answer.

JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules• • Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt. III • Pt. IV • Pt. V • Pt. VI • Pt.VII • Pt. VIII • Pt. IX • Pt. X • Epilogue

The market was bustling at this time of day. Workers were heading home from a hard day of work, rushing through the roads as they grabbed ingredients and materials for their households to prepare their meals and homes; everything was so normal...and if she were being honest, it felt strange. The confined life of the temple had practically become a comfort, so when presented with a slice of normalcy, it was foreign and, if she were being honest, alarming as well.

Having so much freedom was intimidating and overwhelming– the fear of having something good and it being taken away was a looming thought that brought many anxieties.

Years have passed since that fated day, Sukuna Ryomen's downfall. Since the fire and the slaughter that had immersed, Sukuna's actions had remained silent. There were whispers of sightings and rumors that the curse user had met his demise, but she knew better. Sukuna Ryomen was unkillable, and if anybody had truly caught a glance of him, they would be dead before they could live and tell the tale.

"Mama."

The world seemed to stop as the word processed through her head. Blood ran cold, and breaths of air seemed to come in at a faster rate. The woman turned to the little girl holding her hand, causing her heart to shatter.

"Darling, I told you not to refer to me as your mother, remember?"

The question remained as a statement rather than an inquiry as if refamiliarizing the child with a rule she had been reacquainted with on multiple occasions.

"I-I know that, but why can I not? You care for me like a mother, so why can I not call you my mother?'

"We have discussed this before, child," the woman sighed, "I believe it unfair to be taking the title of your actual mother."

"Well, if my real mother had not given me away, it would not be like this..."

Pausing mid-step, the caretaker held her breath, controlling the emotions and memories that flashed through her mind. The girl's sentence rang through her head, eliciting a feeling she was not commonly met with... aggravation. With no hesitance, the woman's minimal steps turned into longer strides, her grip even firmer on the young girl's hand. Getting to their place of lodging was more vital than anything, as she wanted to avoid discussing such sensitive matters in a public setting. Prying ears were close enough in such a crowded setting.

Upon reaching the home, the stand-in mother pulled the child inside before shutting the door. She swiftly bent down to the young one's level and took the child's shoulders into her hands. The little girl was shocked by the woman's reaction, staying silent and still as if afraid of what was to come next.

"Child, I will not hear you speak such false claims of your mother. You do not know the sacrifices she made to get you here."

The girl's expression of fear shifted from dread to shame. Her face was red from embarrassment after she was caught for her prior statement. However, as children do, she made it her goal to justify herself.

"What is the point of her sacrifice if she left me. Did she not want to be around me?"

"She did not leave you; if she were still in this world, trust me, she would be right here with you!"

The caregiver's words came out with little thought; all she knew was that she would not tolerate the little girl's false assumptions. However, now that the words spilled out of her mouth, she began to regret them. Seeing the tears well up in the girl's eyes made her wish she had phrased it differently.

"What do you mean?"

The caretaker cursed under her breath before inhaling through her nose, exhaling softly before speaking.

"You deserve the truth, my dear, and the truth is that your mother sacrificed her life to ensure you had a good one. She loved you so much that she valued your life more than hers. You might not understand this now, but that is a mother's love." The woman's breath stuttered, "She loved you more than you could ever know. I will not claim the title as your mother for that reason."

The girl was overwhelmed with emotion, only knowing how to express it through tears. The woman could not bear it and brought the girl close to her chest, embracing her to give any form of comfort that might help– it broke her heart to hear the child's quiet sobs.

After calming down, the kid spoke, though with some light chokes.

"W-what s-should I call you then?"

The warden took a sigh as she thought over her charges question. In all honesty, she had no idea what to say. What answer could she even give her? She could not allow her real name to float between the child's tongue as it would expose her identity. What name could she let the child speak?

"Hmm," the woman loosened her embrace, looking the little girl in the eye with a soft smile, "What do you think you should call me?"

The girl tilted her head, wanting more elaboration.

The lady chuckled softly, "What do you think my name should be, child?"

The caregiver had expected the girl to take some time to come up with an answer; however, the kid took no hesitation when she blurted out...

"Makato-san!"

Silenced engulfed the home as her caregiver failed to respond.

"Makato-san, I'm going to the market. Do you need anything?"

Another prolonged stillness as the young lady waited for a response.

The girl scrunched her brows in concern, extending her neck to look further into the room as if the individual she was looking for would appear. With the growing silence, the young adult searched the home for her guardian.

"Makato-san?"

She searched and examined the silent home with slight panic before finally stumbling upon the older woman, staring blankly at the floor she was kneeling on– unresponsive as she continued to stare.

With caution, Y/n's daughter reached her hand out to her caregiver's, placing it on the woman's shoulder. The response she got was one she had not expected.

The Makato turned suddenly, grabbing onto the young woman's wrist with an ungodly strength that even the girl was unaware of. This caused the girl to wince in pain as she tried to pull her arm away. Her arm was turning a light purple from the lack of circulation, proving the grip's vice.

Despite her fear, the charge could only feel concerned as her caregiver made eye contact, tears welling up in her eyes. It stayed like that for a couple more seconds before she snapped back into reality, gasping as she was presented with the image of her actions, quickly letting go of the young lady's arm.

"I'm so sorry, my Dear. I did not mean to...I was just..." The woman paused, swallowing her following words; however, her stutter did not disappear: "D-D-Did you need something, m-my, Dear?"

"I was preparing to leave and was going to ask if you needed anything from that market," the girl paused, choosing her next words carefully. Makato-san, you've been acting strange as of late. Is everything alright?"

The young woman was old enough to recognize the hesitance in her caretaker's features and the short lack of response.

"Whatever do you mean, Darling?"

"Please do not take me a fool," the youthful female voiced before sighing and looking at Makato in pity, "I'm worried for you, Makato-san. Ever since the refugees from the other village came, you have been behaving irregularly."

The refugees.

To say that their arrival was a shock was an understatement. At first, Makato thought nothing of it until the newcomers began to tell their stories. Their village was burned in a monstrous fire by a "crazed" sorcerer, and their home was now unsustainable to live in as it was left entirely in shambles. Despite this information, Makato thought little of it as there had been few stories of criminal sorcerers destroying homes, most being "inspired" by Sukuna's actions after his sudden hiatus. It was not until an elderly woman, who she happened to hear at random, described the appearance of the sorcerer.

"He was monstrous, the vile thing; he had four arms and two faces if you do not count that horrid mouth on his stomach. I watched both of them grin as it chewed on the remains of my eldest son." the elder choked and sobbed as the memory came back to taunt her.

Makato's heart dropped to her stomach. Rushing home in search of her charge, she found the girl working on her studies. Seeing the child she worked so hard to raise brought relief, but it was not long before the memories and visions began to haunt her. Sometimes, she would see you standing there, looking down at her, motionless and silent, with a pained, pitful look.

She hated it.

When you looked at her that way, she felt weak and vulnerable—as if she were failing. She was not as cool and calculating as you were, nor as confident or intimidating. Had you been here, you would have more than likely been able to disappear from society and find a nice, quiet life for yourself and your daughter. But you were not here; that was the problem– you were just a figment of her imagination.

Even then, she wanted you to stop looking at her that way.

Sometimes, she was left in her privacy and saw your vision appear to accompany her. It would drive her mad as she tried to convince you, even herself, that she was doing enough. She would speak into the silence of the room and get no response.

"What else could you want with me? I am doing everything I can!"

Silence.

"I am happy. She is happy. We are happy. Is that not enough for you?"

Silence.

"He thinks she is dead– he thinks I am dead! There is no possible way that..."

Silence.

"Please, stop looking at me that way. I am capable of doing this...please have faith in me."

"Makato-san?"

Pulling herself from her thoughts, Makato tracked what the girl had said earlier, not wanting to worry about her charge further.

"I apologize for my irregular behavior, my Dear. I can assure you that I am alright. I have had a lot of stress these days regarding the refugees. I want to do my part to assist them, but I have been running myself ragged and am just...tired."

The girl hesitated, not wanting to accept her caretaker's excuse, but she knew pushing the subject would not do her any good, so she nodded in understanding. The worst part is that Makato knew your daughter was aware of her white lie, but she would not admit it for some slim hope that the girl honestly did not know. Sometimes, she wished your daughter had not inherited your intelligence and perception.

"Do you need anything from the market, Makato-san? I plan on leaving soon to aid the refugees."

"No, I believe we have enough supplied for quite a while. All that I ask of you is to be safe, Darling."

Your daughter agreed, letting a soft smile slip onto her face before hugging Makato. The woman accepted the embrace before experiencing a wave of realization. Intelligence and perception were not the only things she inherited from you; she happened to be a real beauty as well.

"My Dear, if you plan on seeing that boy of yours, speak your peace now and know that I only want you to be safe and happy."

The girl struggled to find words before lowering her head in embarrassment, her face bright red with fluster.

"You are of age now, and I want you to know the responsibilities that rest on your shoulders."

"Makato-san, I never meant to keep it a secret. I just...I was afraid of your disapproval."

The more experienced woman could understand where she was coming from. Long ago, she was in the girl's position. However, she was never allowed to pursue her love due to the circumstances of her arrangement, but that does not mean she did not try. Despite her efforts to keep her relationship together, it was all for not in the end. She was given away as a sacrificial lamb to a monster.

Your daughter had a chance of love, and the caregiver would not squander it for her. She wanted your daughter to have a chance at a relationship she never had. Maybe it was questionable on her part due to the circumstances of her mission, but she did not entirely care. She just wanted your daughter to have a normal life.

She knew that was what you had wanted for your child.

"I do not disapprove, Darling. I just want you to be happy and to be careful."

"I promise that I will Makato-san."

There was a pause of awkward silence before the young woman embraced Makato once more.

"Thank you, I'll be back soon."

Makato smiled as she watched her ward leave the home. She had no problem admitting she was happy for the girl, but something deep within her told her it was a bad idea. It was hard for her to come to terms with, but she had an itching feeling that did not settle with her.

The world was perfect at the moment. Your daughter had put smiles on faces from her charity and was now being rewarded with a proposal for her marriage. She hugged her lover, showing her love and adoration in any way appropriate for their stage in relationship. If you were here, you would be beaming with joy, giving consent to the marriage with no hesitation because this is all you could ever want for your girl, and it would have been all you wanted for your twins.

You never had a chance of love and a happy life; seeing your children be able to pursue their lives to the fullest, especially in romantics, would have been considered a blessing to you.

"This is the happiest day of my life, honestly, but have you received my guardian's blessing?"

The young man chuckled, caressing her cheek reassuringly, "I plan on coming over for dinner tonight to ask for your hand properly if you will have me."

The girl could only agree eagerly through her expressions, unable to speak in fear of shouting instead of politely inviting him. Hugging him one last time before parting to rush home and prepare their meal; however, a chill went up her spine the moment she left; everything felt cold, and she could not explain why. Maybe it was the lack of his embrace, but she had never felt that way. There was only one good reason she could name.

Her nerves were getting the best of her...

"What if Makato-san declines."

The young woman's moods changed throughout the day as she prepared for the most significant evening of her life. One moment, she had the goofiest, filled with overwhelming joy, but there were other times when she would find herself chewing her nails from anxiety, and right now, she was having one of those times.

"Dear, stop that. This behavior is far from healthy. What has you behaving this way?"

"Nothing, everything is fine. I suppose I'm just hoping dinner will turn out acceptable tonight."

"Dear, please do not insult my intelligence with these excuses. What is going on that you are not telling me?"

"Well, I—" there was a pause. How was the ward supposed to say anything without giving anything away?

"You what? Spit it out, child, you are worrying me."

"I cannot say. I am sorry. But do not worry, please; something good is about to happen. Please trust me on this."

Makato chewed the inside of her cheek. She did trust her ward, but she had this gut feeling, this sickening feeling that she could not name. Maybe it was just her nerves getting the best of her, so she pushed it aside. She trusted your daughter, the only trustworthy person that Makato knew.

"Alright... is there anything you need help with?

The younger one smiled sweetly, taking her caretaker's hands in her own.

"No, I have it handled. You have been so stressed the past few days that you should just relax. Tonight, all your worries will be washed away." With that, she parted to continue her work for the big news. She was all but too excited.

She was also naive.

She was a sweet little girl, but she was naive. To think all of Makato's worries and problems would go away by simply relaxing, through sweet and simple gestures, was an innocent way to think. It was how Makato raised that girl because she wanted that sweet little girl to have that luxury. There were times she wondered if she had made the right choice, but then she would remember what pain looked like and what too much experience could do to a person.

No, she made the right decision. This is what you would have wanted.

Right?

Yes.

Makato went, and she sat as the young woman finished her final preparations for the meal. The girl looked more stressed than ever, rushing at the final threshold, but it seemed that preparations were finished and she was filling time. She found little things to do that held no significance. She was in her head, making Makato question if everything was truly fine.

Then, the footsteps could be heard. He was here, and everything was going to change. Life was going to change, and it was between her and that door. The biggest day of her life was only a dinner conversation away. So she opened the door and was presented with an image she thought she would never see or experience.

"We must leave. The village is under attack, and we do not have much time."

The smell of smoke was strong, and embers could be seen from a not-to0-far distance. The world came crashing down, and she could not say a thing. She could only stand there with an oblivious smile.

"What?"

Fear, confusion, anger, any negative emotion she could feel, she was feeling. This was not how it was supposed to go. She was supposed to get a blessing and marry the man of her dreams. Why now? Why this? This could not be real, there was no way.

If the world had crashed down for your daughter, the heavens collided into the earth, dissipating everything in its path in Makato's eyes. The older woman stood, no thoughts running in her head as she strided to the boy, grabbing him by his garments

"You tell me now, and you tell me true, boy! What did you see?!"

Her sudden actions left him too stunned to speak, but after some shaking and calling for his attention, he found himself capable of a response.

"Makato-san, what is happening?" It was like everything hit her at once, but she was still trying to understand why it was happening today– why it was happening now at the most crucial moment of her life.

"I do not know what it was, but it was a man of stature. He was disfigured; he had two faces and four arms. He came without warning, started flames, and began a massacre. His face was cold, as if he felt absolutely nothing."

There was no doubt in her mind that it was him, no doubt her former husband as reigning terror; however, based on the emotionless state of his ambush, bloodshed was beginning to lose its flavor. It was comical, but as much as it had some humor, this was no joke. This was all too real.

Makato grabbed your daughter's shoulder, pulling her out of her shock. Tears were in her eyes, looking at her caretaker pitifully.

"Makato-san, what is happening?"

She was naive, and being naive was safe, but being naive was also unrealistic. Makato gave the girl a sheltered life, eliminating the possibility of danger to the girl. That was no way to live.

"Your father, that is what is happening."

"What?"

And the shock returned. Makato made an effort to avoid mentioning Sukuna in conversation, only mentioning you in light memory. As far as your daughter was concerned, her father did not exist...until now.

"That so-called man is your father, Ryomen Sukuna. That is the man who drove your mother to eventually kill herself," A pause, licking her lip as she readied herself to elaborate, "Your mother sacrificed herself to protect you from him. He drained the life from her and left her no choice but to die, but she gave it purpose. She died to give you a life, a life away from him."

"I-" Your daughter was at a loss for words. Everything was hitting her too fast.

"I thought I was doing the right thing by keeping it from you. I wanted you to have an everyday life, but I should have noticed sooner or later that the truth would reveal itself and that he would present himself one day."

There was nothing to say, only to exchange expressions of fear and dismay.

"W-Well, what do we do now?"

"We run."

Taking the two charges, Makato grabbed whatever necessities they needed to start a new life. She had been planning this since the day she ran from the temple. She would admit that now, with a third party, it would be more complicated than she had intended, but they would make do.

They exited the home frantic. The smell of smoke became more potent, and the embers were closer than before. The flames became more evident as they spread. Any entrance to the main road would have been a route to death, but Makato had never planned to use that path. There was a back trail through the woods, one she had discovered when your little girl was merely five years of age.

They ran towards the thicket, avoiding as many obstacles as possible. Things were looking smooth, with hardly any disruptions. It was almost serene, but that was the issue. To have such tranquility was a nauseating notion for mayhem being at their backs.

It was too quiet to be safe.

And that is when she knew to push the girl and her lover aside, veiling their presence with her technique before everything went black.

Ringing...

Ringing...

And more ringing...

The lights were brighter, and the smoke and ash came straight from the source. She woke up coughing and gasping for air. For a moment, she thought she had been dreaming, immersed in a life that was not hers. Maybe she was waking up, back to her village, back to her parents, back to the life before she got caught in that awful nightmare.

"I am surprised that it was you, of all the women she let live." Sukuna started, looking down at what he believed to be the scum of the earth.

No, it was all too real. His voice registered through her head instantly despite not hearing it in years– at least in person. She had repeated memories, but sometimes she wondered if she had deformed his voice from years of not hearing him speak down on her. Turns out she remembered it accurately. It still managed to send chills down her spine and make her wish to be six feet under the ground.

"I was probably too forgettable for her to ever really care about whether I lived or died." Makato spat.

"That is reasonable enough, but that would not serve her memory well and rather insult her intelligence. I will say that, if anything, my Little Flower was too clever to let such technicality slip from her. She probably pitied you and your fruitless womb, so she gifted you with a child for you to care for in her absence. And knowing your broken state, she probably knew you would be eager at the opportunity."

Makato scowled, turning her gaze to the ground. How dare he speak of you in such a way. He said that as if you were on his level, as devious and conniving as he was, and claimed your actions were selfish when they were the opposite. You did this for her daughter, not for yourself. If you had it your way, you would be there.

"How old is she now?"

She refused to answer, turning her gaze back to the dirt. She did not want to give him the satisfaction of belittling her more than he already had. It was humiliating, but she still had some dignity and a promise she wished to uphold.

"What does it matter? She is dead. (Y/n) told you herself that she was gone."

A sharp pain was felt at the back of her head as he pulled her hair to force the woman to look up at him.

"Do not picture me a fool! For a woman whose last words claimed her daughter was gone, she left me the most humorous smile. I know that age of the girl, but I would rather hear from you, bitch, how long you have been holding her captive."

No response.

"Answer me!" Sukuna snarled, pulling at her scalp once more.

"Nineteen years of age," Makato smiled. Why? Do you wish to act as a father now? Well, you are too LATE! While you were out throwing tantrums, I raised her child, which you would not know how to do without being given exact handwritten instructions."

"On the contrary, you let her potential slip, and now she is nothing but another womb to breed. Unfortunate, due to the heritage of her mother and myself. However, a womb is still useful regardless."

Out of anything Sukuna had done, out of anything he had said to threaten her, that was the most horrifying.

"You are a disgusting bastard."

"Do not speak as if you can fill her shoes as if you have her confidence. You would not be in this position if you were half the woman she was."

"You are right; if I were half the woman she was, I could have easily manipulated you and have you play the role of the arrogant man with an ego so big, he does not notice the knife pointing at his back," A pause as she licked her lips, swallowing to try and quench her dry throat, "Everything that woman did was out of fear, much like everyone else; however, she knew how to tick your interest and she used that to her advantage. Honestly, I am ashamed. I only noticed it when she told me about her plan."

A twitch in his eye, he was irritated. It was known through body language and the knowledge of his nature that he wanted to tear Makato apart, limb from limb, until her body was unrecognizable.

"What? Afraid to face the truth of her decision. She could have run away with ease; she could have killed you, but both of those options would have been considered a mercy for you. She took away the one thing that you valued: herself. That must eat at you a lot."

With a swift motion, he scooped the former wife from her neck, squeezing her throat as he raised her to face him eye-to-eye.

"You are a worthless bitch who cannot even reproduce, summing you up to nothing. What is your worth?"

Nothing but the struggling breaths of the woman attempting to pry herself from this monster's grip.

"Exactly, you are worth nothing."

Darkness, wherever they were, was dark. The girl and her lover were still in the woods, alive as well as they could manage. She could only remember running into this place before being shoved into the dark area. She felt the ground around her and reached her arms out into the pitch black as she tried to navigate this strange place. It scared her.

"Makato-san? Where are you?"

No response, only silence.

It was dark and frightening, and she did not know what to do. What could she do? She could cry, so she did; she cried as she tried to find her way back. This had to be some kind of night terror. She would wake up, and she would be at that doorway, welcoming her lover into their home, eating their meal, and then sharing the news. Her lover would get her caretaker's blessing, get married, and live happily ever after, right?

Dreadfully wrong.

Instead, a hand reached out and pulled her out of the darkness. The world was still unlit, but moonlight and the flames dancing in the distance could be seen nearby; however, she was not a part of the conflict.

She was about to scream, cry for help, anything to get attention drawn to her location, but was stopped by a large palm to the mouth.

"Shhh, my love. It is only me. It will be alright."

For the first time that night, she felt genuine relief. Turning her head to see her man, she looked down at her disheveled features. She weakly smiled, moving herself to embrace him. It all lasted for a few seconds until she realized the missing member of their little group.

"Where is Makato-san?" she whispered.

The man looked down, not daring to respond. She attempted to make eye contact, but he would only look away.

"Where is she?" she insistently asked, but louder.

" I do not know; a couple curse users emerged from the woods. Makato shoved us into the ditch, and when I came out, she was gone."

"Well...Well, we must go look for her."

A grasp to the wrist effectively stopped the girl.

"No, I cannot risk losing you, and I know Makato-san would agree. She would not want you going out to risk your life to save her."

How could he say that? How dare he say that! What right did he have in this decision?

"Then you do not know her." she scowled, trying to withdraw from his hold, but his hand did not budge.

"Then why would she tell you everything had she not already predicted the possibility that she might die."

"Because... because...she needed me to know because if we were going to run away, I would need to put in my own weight by knowing our threat...yes, that was it! Now let me go!" She tried to reason, but not to him—herself.

Denial.

"It was a confession! As if she were lying on her deathbed, she confessed everything to you. She wants you to move on, knowing there are dangers like your father. She wants you to kno-"

"Well, she may not be dead yet, so we have to try!"

With whatever strength she had deep down, she broke free from his grasp, sprinting towards the village and the flame. She could hear him following her, but in her mind, she wanted to believe he was doing it because he could see her reason. He would help; she was sure of it.

She was almost there, and she swore she could see the silhouette of her caretaker, but then she found herself on the ground. It was only for a second before being lifted into the air, a hand covering her mouth as she got further from her destination.

Kicking, muffled screams, and the distant cackling of flames could be heard. She bit her partner’s hand in an attempt that he would let her go from the sudden pain, but he was resistant. He merely grunted and winced while continuing his journey back. But then there was a halt.

There she was, Makato, thrown onto the ground. She could see her in the distance. The woman looked weak but very much alive, and she was right there. The daughter kicked, shoved, jabbed, and bit even more, trying to get loose. However, her lover would not budge because although he could see Makato, he could also see the shadow hovering over the woman, the shadow your daughter was refusing to look at.

Then the shadow disappeared, and the dreadful monster emerged, Sukuna Ryomen, hovering over Makato with disdain. Watching as she tried to crawl away but failed miserably. She was fighting, doing her best, but her fate was inevitable.

Death was the only option, and death is what she got.

Ryomen Sukuna caved into his impulses, ripping her limb from limb until she was unrecognizable. The daughter watched, horrified, as the woman who raised her was mutilated to nothing but a pulp. What sort of sick joke was this? She remained silent as she tried to think of who would pull such a childish trick, watching as the image got smaller until nothing was left. Eventually, it was just a tiny yellow dot in the distance and nothing more; all she could do was look at it.

"Promise me you will live."

Breath in

Breathe out

Breath in

Breathe out

Breath in

Breathe out

Breath in

Breathe out

Breath in

Breathe out

Breath in

Breathe out

Breath in

Breathe o-

"NOOOOOOOOOO!"

The scream echoed through the dark room, and you tried to comprehend where you were. The walls were closing in, and the air was too thick to breathe. It felt like like suffocation.

What was this?

Why now?

Where is this?

Why is this?

How is-

"Y/n!"

You snapped back into reality, frantically looking at your surroundings to notice you were in your bedroom.

"Y/n, what happened? Are you okay?"

The silence was tense as you sat there, trying to remember your nightmare. You thought long and hard, but in the end, you had nothing.

"I...I don't know."

You heard a sigh, a hand rubbing your back, and another reaching for your cheek, wiping the stray tears you were unaware of.

"Do you want me to stay with you tonight, again?"

Some of you wanted to say no, but the opposing side longed for it. You stared at the clock on the wall before you, reading the time. It was a little past midnight, and you had hardly gotten any rest. You had a big day tomorrow, and rest was crucial to get through your day. God knows the things you would do if you did not properly sleep.

Turning to your twin brother, you weakly nodded, "Okay."

He did not hesitate to tuck you under his arm as if in an attempt to protect you from any harm to come your way, to shield you from the nightmares. However, despite his presence, it was like a part of the dream appeared that you remembered but didn't at the same time.

"Do you think I'll be a good mother?"

"Why are you asking me that?"

"Please just answer me...for my sanity."

Your brother sighed, resting his cheek on your head as he rubbed your shoulder to comfort you.

"Y/n, I have no doubt you will make a great mother. Come on, let's go back to sleep. I'll stay here, and everything will be better in the morning."

"Promise me it will be better in the morning."

"What?"

"You don't have to hold up to it. I just...I just want to hear you say it."

"I promise it will be better in the morning."

"Okay..."

New series?? Sequel???Maybe, but first, a little break ☆~ (˃̵ڡ‘˶ )

Taglist (Thank you all so much for being a part of this series):

@littlemochi @mistalli @youngbeansprout @bbylime @bangtan-forever1479 @idktbhloley @izayas-rings @o3o-aya @pyschopotatomeme @persephonehemingway @otomaniac @meforpr3sident

@fourcefulcupid @nezuscribe @my-simp-land @zukuphilia @niya729 @spiritofstatic @bbittersw33t @kashasenpai @decaysan @honeybaegle @ygslvr @outrofenty @esposadomd @ali2426 @anmath @yazzzmints @lovingnahida @sincerest-one @rosemaydone321 @j0dios @k-ki3rd @maki-zenin1944 @shadowywizardarcade @ae-mius @xiangping-28 @loaves4me @aloraaaxcrystalzx @chariotwaves 

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Chapter 5

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Medical blood draw, allusions to abortion, poorly written smut

A/N: Even after figuring out where I wanted to go with it, this chapter feels weak to me. I’m sorry.

Moodboard by @dannyo000 💙

You looked over Daryl’s shoulder and squinted at the light before the man moved, wrapping a curiously gentle hand around your bicep to urge you into the building. 

“Daryl, you cover the back.” Shane ordered quietly. 

The lobby was eerily quiet, no immediate answer to Rick’s calls. You looked around for a moment and then tracked Daryl while he kept a keen eye out for walkers. A small hand squeezed your shoulder, startling you. When you turned, Carol was already pulling you closer to herself and her daughter. They were keeping the women and children in the middle, protecting them. 

You wanted to balk at the idea. You could very well handle yourself if they would give you a weapon but apparently that was still out of the question. 

There was the echo of a gun cocking, all eyes falling on the lone man at the end of the corridor, a rifle in his hands. “Anybody infected?” He asked, warily eyeing each member of the group. 

“One of our group was.” Rick answered solemnly. You could sense the collective shift in the atmosphere, now heavy with grief. “He didn’t make it.”

The stranger didn't hesitate. “Why are you here? What do you want?”

“A chance.” Rick countered immediately. 

“That’s asking an awful lot these days.”

“I know.”

There was a moment of contemplation, the gentleman once again scanning over each and every individual. “You all submit to a blood test. That’s the price of admission.”

Rick’s relief was evident in the tone of his reply. “We can do that.”

Weapons were lowered, the stranger nodding toward the doors. “You got stuff to bring in, you do it now. Once this door closes, it stays closed.” 

There was a sudden burst of movement, bags and people shuffling about. Your own bag was pushed into your hands, Daryl’s eyes meeting yours for a moment before he jerked his chin to indicate you should follow the others into a rather large elevator. It was a squeeze but everyone managed to fit. Even if it did mean you were pressed tightly against the redneck. 

“VI, seal the main entrance. Kill the power up here.” 

There were beeps and rattles as the elevator closed. Introductions were being made, information shared but you could only focus on the heat radiating from the man nearly pressed flush against your back. With a careful step, you shifted closer to Carol. 

Everyone filed out once the doors opened but remained behind Dr. Jenner, listening to him explain the facility and what had been happening within the government sectors since the turn. Your thoughts, however, were running circles around the blood test he would be doing. Maybe you could manage to be the last draw and ask him in private to run the extra test if it wasn’t already on his agenda to do so. You could only assume that his priority was to ensure no one was infected. 

“Hey.”

Your head snapped up to find Daryl watching you with a narrowed, cautious gaze. 

“Keep up.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” You mock saluted, hurrying by him. He muttered something as you passed that you figured was probably nothing you cared to hear. 

Straight to business, Jenner began drawing blood samples. Chewing on your lip, you began to creep back toward the wall, ensuring everyone was in front of you until—

“The hell ya doin’?” Daryl drawled right beside your ear. You hadn’t realized he was still behind you. Snatching your arm from his grasp, you glared up at him. 

“Just getting in line.” You sneered, side-stepping around him just as Jenner announced he was ready for the next person. Only you and Daryl remained. For the briefest moment, you pondered if his thoughts were aligning with your own, his blue eyes locked on you even as his blood was pulled into the tube. 

You glanced around to find everyone else chattering about the facility and the things they had been informed of, not really concerned with the testing going on. 

Except Rick and Daryl. 

Fuck. 

You plopped down on the chair and presented your arm, wracking your brain for a way of asking for him to run a pregnancy test without alerting Rick to your plight. As you glanced up, you found the man in question saying something to Daryl but the redneck wasn’t listening, his eyes burning into your own. You felt your stomach churn, an uncomfortable tingling sensation prickling at your hands and feet. Your ears began to ring just as Dr. Jenner announced he was done. With a minute nod, you stood, albeit slowly but it wasn’t enough. The world tilted, littered with black dots. The wavering image of the floor was coming up to meet you. 

“None of us have eaten in days. She’s new so she could have gone longer than us without.” 

Consciousness was prodding at the edges of your mind, sounds and voices coming back all at once. As you peeled your eyes open, you waited for the pain from hitting the floor but it never came. In fact, you weren’t on the floor at all. No one was looking down at you. 

“There she is.” Jacqui smiled, patting your hand that was carefully held between her own. You offered the smallest of smiles back, your eyes flickering over to where your knees dangled off of something. 

A hand. 

You turned your head to find none other than Daryl looking down at you with an unreadable expression. 

“Um, thanks.” You mumbled, pressing your hand to your stomach. You still felt nauseous but the dizziness was ebbing away. “You can put me down now.”

“I gotcha.” He replied. His voice was low, almost soft. 

“No, really. I’m good.” You looked around, now extremely uncomfortable with all the concerned stares and hushed voices. “Please.” You added, just low enough for only him to hear. Daryl didn’t say anything but carefully lowered your feet to the floor, his arm remaining across the small of your back while you gathered your bearings. “Thank you.”

He merely hummed. While he was no longer touching you, you couldn’t help but notice that his hand was still hovering. 

“I think some food would be the next logical course of action.” Dr. Jenner gave a tight smile and led the way from the room. 

You followed on unsteady legs, but Daryl stayed close. You weren’t sure how you felt about that. 

You decided to forego the table, standing at the small counter in the kitchen area to pick at your pasta dish while everyone laughed and celebrated at the table. Even Daryl seemed to be in good spirits, choosing Glenn as the subject of his pestering. Everyone seemed so carefree in that moment, your thoughts wandered to your own family. How your father would have looked smiling brightly at that table and enjoying a good, hot meal in relative safety. 

You brushed away the tear that had escaped and began to poke at your food with your fork. Feeling eyes on you, a glance showed Daryl watching you with a bottle just in front of his lips. Heat began to burn in your cheeks and you looked away, forcing yourself to take a bite that you didn’t even really want, hungry as you were. When you dared to look again, he was smiling and partaking in the toasts to Jenner. 

“Here’s to you, doc. Booyah!” He shouted before taking a generous swig straight from the bottle. Glasses clinked and similar praises were given. You raised your water glass when the quiet doctor’s eyes drifted over to you. 

You could only hope that from where you stood, no one noticed you weren’t drinking. You could always blame it on the nausea but that might only fuel more suspicion. Lucky for you, Shane decided to steer the mood into the opposite direction and all celebrations died down quickly. 

The meal was finished in relative silence. Even Daryl was leaned back against the counter with the bottle still in his hand, his expression grim. 

Jenner showed everyone to the rest of the living area. Some rooms had beds while others had couches. There were two words, though, that seemed to halt everyone in their tracks: hot water. It was almost comical to watch the bodies scatter but you remained still, letting them go until only you remained in the hall. You could shower later. You needed a moment alone with the doctor. 

You found him at one of the control panels, a centrifuge with tubes of blood sitting inside. You were wringing your hands as you approached, steps so quiet that he didn’t seem to notice you. Now that you had the opportunity to speak with him, you were petrified. He could say one word that would change your life forever. 

“Hi, Dr. Jenner.”

The man was obviously startled, spinning in the chair to regard you with wide eyes. “Oh! Y/N, right?” You nodded, feeling your legs begin to tremble. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. A little. I guess.” You stumbled over words, twisting one hand within the other until it hurt. “That’s why—why I’m here, actually.”

“I thought as much.” He sighed, laying down his pen on a notepad with more care than necessary. 

You felt your stomach sink. “You—did?” He nodded, expression almost sympathetic. “If you know why I’m here, then that means—” Your knees all but buckled, hands steadying yourself against the console before the doctor stood and offered his chair. 

“I take it this wasn’t planned.” You shook your head, gaze as vacant as your mind felt in that moment. Dr. Jenner pulled up another chair and sat down in front of you. “May I ask, the father, is he alive?” You nodded absently. “Will you tell him?”

That gave you pause, cogs and wheels turning in overdrive  to make your brain function. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s my opinion,” Jenner tapped on the desk as if just trying to do anything other than focus too hard on the conversation, “these are the end times. It goes without saying that there are no blessings anymore. Nothing real to hope for anymore.” Words were failing you as you struggled to entertain his thoughts. “I can help you.”

You stopped breathing. Was he suggesting—No. No, you couldn’t possibly make a decision of that magnitude without Daryl. Regardless of how it came to be, the baby was just as much his as it was yours. He had to know. “I, um—thank you, Dr. Jenner. Really.” You stood, tripping over the chair when you stepped back. Jenner did rise from his seat to ensure you didn’t fall but promptly returned once you were able to remain upright. “I just—he has to know. I have to tell him.” You blurted another ‘thank you’ as you jogged from the room, miraculously making it to the final empty room before you allowed yourself to break down. 

Sliding down the wall, you let one hand rest on your stomach, now certain there was a little life there. The halls were quiet; anyone could hear. Your other hand covered your mouth, stifling your harsh sobs. 

You were pregnant. 

You were scared. 

You wanted your father. His advice, his embrace. You would have even taken his scolding just to have him there. What a cruel twist of fate, losing your family only to be gifted with a new one. 

And then there was Daryl. Rude, angry, impulsive. What were you thinking? Well, you weren’t thinking of babies, that was for sure. 

You needed to get yourself together, figure out what to do next. Deep breath through the nose, count to five. Out through the mouth, count to five. You continued, pushing yourself to your feet so you could start pacing the room. 

You knew you had to tell Daryl. But when? If you waited, anything could happen. You could be injured or you could lose the baby. Fuck, or both. If he didn’t know and found out that way, he’d be furious. You hadn’t experienced the full scope of his anger and truly hoped not to, especially when it came to anything regarding the baby. 

You couldn’t wait. You had to tell him. 

“Like a bandaid. Just rip it off.” You told yourself when you opened the door and stepped into the hall. Quickly, you realized that you didn’t know what room he was in. “Fuck.”

“Wha’re ya doin’?” 

Of course. You looked over your shoulder first, finding him leaning against the wall outside an open door. “Looking for you, actually.”

“Why?”

“Can we talk?” The smell of alcohol wafted into your nostrils within several feet of him. Distantly, you wondered if it was too early for your pregnancy to be responsible. His eyes drifted down your body and back up before he flattened against the wall to let you by. 

Daryl had chosen one of the rooms with a couch, leaving you instantly feeling guilty for having a bed in your own. You didn’t choose the room, it just happened to be the only one open when you came back from meeting with Jenner. Maybe you could offer it to him to smooth things over after you had talked. 

“Look, Daryl—” You spun to find him standing mere inches away, that unreadable expression firmly in place. “First of all, are you drunk?” You rubbed your lips together before pulling the bottom one between your teeth. You weren’t doing this if he was drunk.

“Nah. Take more than wine for that.”

Your eyes flitted over to the bottle of whiskey on the end table. “You mean, like that?” You pointed, raising an eyebrow when he actually turned to look. 

“Ain’t had any.” He sniffed and crossed his arms. “Yet. Whaddaya need?”

“Daryl, I went to—well, when I—” The food from earlier began threatening to make a reappearance, worsening as his eyes continued to narrow. “I need to sit down.” The hard look faded and gave way to concern, something you hadn’t seen him openly convey. He didn’t say anything, but you felt his hand on your back, urging you toward the couch. “I’m sorry.” Like a bandaid. Like a bandaid. Your brain chanted at you, even as you doubled over to put your head on your knees. 

“Jesus, woman. It ain’t that big’a deal.” His flippant tone made you yearn to smack him upside the head with one of the couch’s cushions until you sat up with something particularly snarky on the tip of your tongue, only to be met with him unbuckling his belt. Your mouth agape, you did little more than blink at him. “Finally,” he drawled, leaning down to cage you against the back of the couch with an arm on either side, “didn’t think ya’d ever shut up.”

You should have stopped him. You knew that. But the moment his mouth was on yours, you were a lost cause. All you could focus on was the warmth beneath your hands. Daryl ran hot, never failing to leave your blood boiling beneath your skin. In a world gone cold with death, it was a relief to feel something so alive. 

“Saw ya in the truck.” He all but purred, pressing open-mouthed kisses across your jaw. “Would’a handled it for ya if ya’d asked.” He used his knee to force your legs apart, leaving it pressed into the couch just in front of your center. 

“Didn’t—wanna do this again.” You breathed, arching up with your head back to grant him access to the full expanse of your throat. 

“Yeah, ya did.” Daryl grinned against your flesh, his warm breath causing you to shiver. “S’a itch ya need scratched, same as me.”

Goddamnit, he was right. At first, it was all about the pleasure. The man excelled at making you feel good. Soon enough, it had gone beyond that. It was a connection with another person. You’d begun to crave being touched, being wanted. You lusted for the rush of making him feel good. You could die at any given moment and had wanted to live while you could. 

You needed to tell him about the baby—and you would—but first, you needed this. You could revel in the feel of him without the looming dangers of being vulnerable in the outside world. 

Your hand splayed open against his chest, pushing him back enough to enable you to pull your shirt over your head. Your slender fingers began undoing the button of your jeans while his mouth danced across the newly exposed skin. Lifting your hips, you slid down your pants and used your feet to rid yourself of them completely before you desperately pushed his trousers down his legs. 

It was the first time you’d seen so much of his bare skin, wondering if he’d finally allow you to touch him without the barrier of clothing. “I want you.” The admission left your mouth in a breathless plea. Daryl kicked his pants away from his feet, never ceasing his onslaught against the swell of your breasts above your bra. 

“Yeah?” He teased while a large hand slid across your ribs and around to your back, skilled fingers snapping open the clasp of your bra. You shed the article without care and tossed it. His mouth and hands were on you instantly. Lips and tongue taunted one nipple while he palmed your other breast. The calloused skin over your sensitive peak had you arching into him, breathy moans escaping your parted lips with abandon. “Thought I’s a asshole?”

You whimpered when you felt the light graze of his teeth. “You’re still an asshole.” Knowledgeable fingers slid your panties aside to massage your clit with just the right amount of pressure. “But I still want you to fuck me. Like now.” Pushing him away, you rose to your feet and shed your last article of clothing, nearly groaning when he allowed you to push his underwear down his legs. He was kicking them aside when you pulled up on the bottom of his shirt. 

“No!” He barked, batting your hand away. You reeled back, caught off guard in the moment, eyes wide. While his expression was tense, shame and sadness overflowed from that beautiful blue. 

“Okay.” You whispered, stepping hesitantly back into his space. He flinched when you placed your hands on his sides, on top of his shirt. There was a story there, a deep wound that he wasn’t going to reveal anytime soon. It wasn’t a subject to be pushed right then. Your mouth hovered in front of his, the wine on his breath tempting you to slowly dip your tongue between his lips. It passed across his own and withdrew, enough to spur him onward. 

He kissed you hard, a dance of tongues and teeth. He was stepping backward while you walked him until the backs of his legs hit the couch. He fell onto it almost clumsily but his hands found your hips with ease as you climbed onto his lap. 

Your slick coated his cock with a drag of your hips, pulling a moan from him that you eagerly swallowed. “I fucking hate this.” You growled, repeating the action. 

“Think your pussy says somethin’ diff’rent.” He nipped at your bottom lip, his large hands roaming your torso, up up up to squeeze your breasts. You hissed at the hint of pain, grinding your hips down harder. “Grab a rubber from my bag.”

“Pull out.” You dismissed him quickly. If he objected, he didn’t voice it. What he did do was slide a hand down to your mound to circle your swollen clit with his thumb. “Damn you.” You tugged on his hair, earning a groan and a buck of his hips. Sliding your hips forward while lifting yourself slightly, the tip of him caught your entrance. Embarrassingly aroused, you were able to slide right down until your ass met his thighs. “Fuck, why does that have to feel so good?” The perfect stretch of accommodation had your cunt fluttering around him. 

“Cause s’mine, remember?” Daryl growled, pushing his hips up with a satisfied hiss. You did remember. That tight feeling in your chest stirred to life, but you shoved it down, rolling your body over him to allow pleasure to swallow you. You couldn’t think about his words, the deeper meaning that you subconsciously wished they held. You couldn’t think of the baby inside you that he didn’t know about yet. 

You shook your head and threw it back, riding him in earnest. Each bounce resulted in a slap of slick skin on skin, his cock hitting every nerve inside of you that had your toes curling within moments. When you looked at him, he was watching you with dark eyes, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth in an attempt to stay quiet beyond the occasional grunt. His hands had traveled back to your hips to help lift and lower you, successfully spearing you onto him. 

Your own hands slid down his clothed chest before you leaned back and braced yourself on his thighs. The new feel of his skin had the pleasure knot twisting hard in your belly. 

“Goddamn.” You heard him growl, one hand abandoning your waist to splay open between your breasts. “Slow down, woman.” 

But you didn’t. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on the good you were feeling. Your chest was growing tighter and tighter until it felt like you couldn’t breathe. With strangled moans and gasps that felt futile, you leaned forward and fisted your hands in his shirt. Your eager bounces melted into a desperate grind against him. 

You just wanted to feel good. 

“Y/N, stop!”

And you did. You fell forward and all but wailed against his chest, any pleasurable sensation dissipating entirely. Everything came crashing down all at once, leaving you cold and scared and alone, even with Daryl still very much inside of you. Your sobs continued, any thought of moving quickly dismissed. 

“I’m—sorry.” You finally managed through the tears, your voice small to even your own ears. Daryl had yet to move and now, you were terrified to, fearing the look he was sure to be sporting. Still, there was only so long you could remain that way. When your sobs quieted to hiccups, you began to pull away from him only for his arm to encircle your back. 

Daryl was careful and quiet when he slipped out of you, keeping you pressed against him even as he rose slightly. He caught you beneath your legs to keep you from falling when he twisted to lay you across the couch. You stayed as he had placed you, watching him grab up his pack and head into the bathroom without a word. The shower turned on a moment later. 

You waited a moment more and then sat up, testing your legs before starting to gather up your clothing. You had really fucked this up, once again letting carnal desires outweigh any form of logic. How could you even face him after that, let alone tell him you were pregnant? 

“Damnit.” You whispered, finishing up getting dressed before you reached for the doorknob. You hesitated, taking a step toward the bathroom before ultimately turning around and leaving the room. 

[starry-bi-sky]

I have a question for thr Danyal Al Ghul AU - What if Danyal was the one who was 5 years younger? I know that a lot would change, but I'm just wondering what exactly would change

That's a really good question!! And to answer: practically everything. Danny being five years older than Damian has a huge impact on how things go. He's the older brother! He's in charge of Damian's safety and training in his eyes. Danny being the older brother influences his choices, decisions, and everything leading up to him leaving the league and beyond it. Danny being five years older is one of main driving points behind the au. The other main driving point being that he loves his brother like the moon loves the sea.

So this is a good thought exercise; what does change with Danny being the little brother now? His opinion on Damian changes: instead of loving his little brother as the oldest, it's now the baby brother looking up to his big brother. It also means Damian's opinion and treatment of Danny changes -- because now Damian's in the position of 'you can't have a relationship with your brother'. So, how does he take this information?

Lets do something new; rather than keeping an active part in his brother's life, Damian pulls a Frozen and ices him out. He's not cruel to him - he just ignores Danyal entirely. At least, he does when Danyal's looking. And Danyal? With very little recollection of his toddler life, where Damian was far more active, vies for his big brother's attention.

He wants Damian's acknowledgment, he wants his attention. He's training his ass off and then turning and waving at Damian and going "look! look! did you see? did you see? did you see?" and he's just. not getting it.

(outwardly, at least. Damian is puffing up with pride internally and turning to mother during their private sparring sessions, regaling her with Danyal's training he saw earlier today. He's a prodigy, mother. He'll surpass even Damian one day, and one day soon.)

Danyal still sombers up and locks in with that League seriousness, but his motivations are largely geared towards getting a shred of attention from his big brother. Poor child is chasing shadows.

So, what happens when the Death Match™ rolls around? Well, I think Danny finds out differently. Rather than be told about it, he overhears it instead -- and, like every five year old is ought to do, makes an impulse decision. He's got tunnel vision: he doesn't want to fight his big brother to the death, he doesn't wanna die either, what will keep them both safe?

He comes up with his fake death himself -- danyal really is too clever for his own good; he inherited it from his mother and father. He convinces his beloved mother to take him with her on her mission that week, and splits up with her during the mission. It just so happens that a fire starts in one wing of the building they're in, and Danny gets a pretty convincing body, plants it near the heart of the fire, trapped under a collapsed beam, and disappears. The entire fire is set up to look like an accident from the kitchens, caused by something else entirely.

This could be where he gets his facial scar, but either way, he's gone like the wind.

(Meanwhile, Damian hears about the death of his little brother and collapses in his grief. He has a lot of regrets -- being unable to keep his brother safe is his biggest one. A few weeks later he's under the care of his father, and lashing out being there. Haunted by the fact that Danyal will never meet him either.)

Meanwhile, Danyal gets picked up by CPS and put into foster care, and a few years later is adopted by the Fentons. He's not exactly like his older brother counterpart version, but he's still not like canon. he's still relatively closed off, but his memories of his league are a little hazy. He still holds onto their core beliefs however, and clings tightly onto the memory of his older brother.

[natalievoncatte]

Cait wouldn’t leave her alone.

Every way Vi turned, she was there, but never more than a moment. Vi would turn sharply and see Cait in her stolen clothes from their first jaunt into the Undercity. The costume that Vi had taken for her was one of a dozen attempts to get rid of the mousy, timid little burden that was getting in her way as she hunted for her sister, for answers, for Silco. For someone made of meat that would bruise and split under her knuckles until she could beat ten years of her life out of them, ten years in hell.

Once she saw her dancing, free, without the grief that weighed her down like a suit of armor and choked the life and joy from her. This was another punishment- to see flashes of the girl she was before Vi’s *bullshit* wrecked her life. So full of life, so devastatingly beautiful, dancing in the dark with her skin aglow, and then she was gone and some shitbag was making over on her and got a broken jaw for his effort.

Cait was there when the world spun from the booze, and when ham sized fists cracked ribs and bruised organs to the point of bursting, when the grain alcohol scoured her throat with hot whips and hard knuckles chipped her skull and scrambled her brains. When her cheek hit the dirt she would come in brief flashes, soft fingers curled lovingly around her chin, huge eyes liquid with grief.

On those nights she made it home -or at least, crawled back to her shithole flip house- she would lie on her side and see Cait’s face filling her vision again, only to slide inevitably into nightmares and dreamscapes made torture by her absence.

She had done everything wrong and Cait was gone.

Most of the times. Sometimes she raged. That Piltie bitch promised she wouldn’t changed but she’d lied, she already had. Vi had given her everything, everything! Her name was shit down here, her family gone, her life gone. She was nothing but a rabid dog mauling other beasts until one day she’d get her throat torn out, just more trash. What had she called them? Animals?

She’d scream her name in a rage as the bottle shattered on the wall and plead for her as she gulped from the next one. Eventually even Loris stopped coming around.

“I’m not going to let you kill yourself, Violet. I’m definitely not going to help.”

“Then fuck off,” Vi snarled.

She didn’t know how long that had been. Down here in the lowest parts of the undercity, day wasn’t much different than night. She crawled back to the pits. She fought. She won, sometimes she lost. With blood knuckles and a feral grin or a busted lip and a feeling of coming apart inside her ribs, she’s take a bag of coins, give a few to the landlord and spend the rest on drink.

It was Cait’s voice she heard in the dark.

You’re not even eating.

“Go fuck yourself, cupcake,” she’d mutter, and some sump rat would stare at her like a madwoman, sometimes run his yap and get a pop in the jaw for it.

Eventually it’d happen. The booze-rot would eat its way to the outside, or something would break inside, or she’d throw hands with someone with a blade or a club and be too tired and drunk and fucked up to fight it and she’d be fucking free.

No more ghosts. The living do not haunt the dead.

She wasn’t sure how she got back here. She wasn’t even sure if she won the last bout. They were all melting together in a stew of pain, the meat within falling to shreds from boiling too long. Vi stared at herself in the cracked mirror, one little Vi surrounded by a dozen little ones, all splitting the same face, drawn and waxy and pale and marred by sooty black. She took a drink of her poison and shook the bottle, hearing the hollow slosh of the dregs, and tossed it, uncaring of it broke or not, if there were enough coins in the black bag to buy another.

Vi fell more than sat on the bed. Gravity did the rest and she fell on her side, wincing at the explosion of pain radiating from her flank. Cracked rib, most likely. She remembered now. She’d been careless, slow, tried to trap an uppercut meant to crack her sternum and kill her and took it in the rib instead. Every breath hurt. It would be easier to just not to, but she couldn’t stop.

Of course she was there. Cait lying in a silken heaven, big liquid eyes drinking Vi’s soul, full of such compassion and love. No one had looked at Vi like that since she was a child, looked past the grime and the scars and the hurt to just see her.

No one but Cait, and Cait left her.

Vi closed her eyes, ready as ever not to open them. When she felt a soft brush of fingers on her cheek she brushed them away. The visions could fuck off, she was tired.

“She’s not waking up,” Cait said, her voice tight with concern, stretching the clipped professional tone she used round her subordinates to its limit.

“She’s hurt badly,” a man said.

“Commander, we have to go. If someone spots you here they’ll tear us apart.”

“Loris, help me carry her.”

The worked carved red lines of pain through her as powerful hands lifted her from the bed.

This was odd. She’d imagined Cait everywhere but she’d always been alone. Why the hell was she hallucinating Loris? Sure, he was a fine drinking buddy and reminded her a little of Vander but he was hardly-

Oh.

Vi forced her eyes open, a struggle with how gummy and dry they were. The big man was carrying her in his arms and Maddie was comically struggling to carry an oversized bag weighed down by Vi’s atlas gauntlets.

Cait.

Cait was there. It was her. It was really her. Vi could feel her fingers probing her broke rib and see her and God she could smell her, Cait smelled like lilacs and how could anything smell so good in this fetid shithole?

“Cupcake?” she rasped.

“What is she, hungry?” Maddie muttered.

“Cait, get your hood up,” said Loris. “Vi, stay quiet. We’ll take the ventilation shafts, stay out of sight.”

Vi obliged the request by passing out.

It felt like hours in the dark. She’d wake, not knowing if she was in the dream world or the real, if these figures were carrying her to Piltover or hell. She would hear Cait’s voice, soft words to steady her and a gentle hand clasping hers when a jolt made her cry out in agony.

It was strangely easy to sleep while someone as carrying you.

When she woke, she knew she had to be in a dream. She’d dreamed this before- opening her eyes and seeing the elaborate silk canopy of Cait’s expansive bed in her palatial bedroom, big enough to build a Zaunite tenement inside. She would sit up, and Call Cait’s name and hear no answer. She’d rise and wander the halls and eventually make her way to the gardens and still no one would reply.

Vi would wander in an empty world forever, a specter with no one to torment.

No, it was different this time. She’d never dreamed of a thin tube connecting a bottle hanging over the bed to a needle taped in place on her arm. He dreams had never had the constricting feeling of bandages around her trunk, or wrapped around a dozen cuts on her arms and legs. In dreams her lips had never been dry, her throat never parched. The dream world traded in other kinds of pain.

She tried to speak but it was like her tongue was sandpaper, so she moved to sit up instead, gasping in agony as pain exploded in her side. She felt like shit, skin clammy with sour sweat, hurting all over and her head was pounding.

“Try not to move,” Cait whispered, suddenly there, a gentle hand pressing her back down. “You’ve a broken rib and internal injuries, and the withdrawal.”

“Caitlyn?” Vi managed to choke out.

Cait gently lifted her head, guided a glass to her lips. The water was ice cold and it was bliss. She closed her eyes and savored it as deeply as a fine wine. Not that she’d had much experience with that.

“Where am I?”

Cait hesitated.

Vi’s eyesight was clearing now as she blinked the gum away. Cait was pale and drawn, dark circles under her eyes from nights without sleep. There was a deep weariness in her eyes that made Vi’s heart ache. She looked for the spark that had always been there, but saw only faint embers, ready to be swept into nothing by the slightest air.

“I brought you home.”

Vi closed her eyes.

“You should have left me where you found me.”

“I shouldn’t have left you at all. I’ll never forgive myself.”

Cait curled her fingers around Vi’s, and squeezed.

“Yeah,” Vi rasped. “I know that feeling.”

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

I’ll still fight every day. For them.

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

Set around Act 1.1.

Masterlist: there you go

Disclaimer: english ain't my first language folks

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

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

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

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

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

I should be dead.

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

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

Wait.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And if you fail?” he asked bitterly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He woke up screaming, alone in the same room.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You failed them,” one shadow hissed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taglist: @keira7664 @starryhiraeth

[monophobix]

INITIAL THOUGHTS ON ARCANE SEASON 2 ACT 1 (EPISODES 1-3)

(i’m not good at putting my thoughts into words so feel free to give your own opinions, i rlly wanna hear them)

SPOILERS AHEAD///

ok so my biggest critique is the pacing. everything is very quick very fast and a lot is going on. i understand that this is immediately after a large event which of course caused a reaction however it was just very intense and a lot to keep up with especially considering the amount of new and confusing things introduced throughout the three episodes with minimal slow down. it was alittle difficult to keep up. the timeline of the show is confusing and i have no idea how long it has been between scenes. viktor was barely in that weird healing chamber for a few scenes before he was emerging as someone new. caitlyn and vi were going from loving to fighting to understanding to fighting again very quickly with little time to develop independently, their kiss and divorce weren’t even 30 minutes apart from each other. also, who the fuck is this kid hanging around with jinx?? why is she following her, why doesn’t she talk, what’s her name, how long has she been with her?? this lack of time to let things develop has caused these episodes to feel rushed.

with this introduction of many new things some have left me with a lot of questions. my biggest issue revolves around the arcane. i literally do not recall it being mentioned or being an important topic in s1 but all of a sudden jayce knows a fuck ton about it as well as heimerdinger? when did he learn this? i assume it’s from viktors notes and research but that still fails to cover the amount of knowledge jayce now possesses.

HOWEVER THE ARCANE IS VERY COOL AND IM VERY VERY INVESTED. i absolutely love the changes to viktor, his weird apathy and changes are definitely rushed but so interesting to see, his design and behaviour are so very compelling and im very excited to see the development. additionally, this group dynamic between jayce, ekko and heimerdinger is soooooo fun. it offers a break from the intensity with some silliness i think is desperately needed, plus it’s super satisfying to see the trio bounce off each other. that final scene of them in ep3 was visually incredible and i loved seeing the effects upon the hextech weapons during the jinx, sevika vs vi, caitlyn fight. the scene of viktor amongst the shimmer infected was very interesting and it was so cool to truly see the severe effects of shimmer and the inhumanity of viktor is making a clear route towards his glorious evolution which is am keen to watch.

that ambessa reveal at the end was INCREDIBLE. i genuinely didn’t see it coming and it made my jaw DROP. the quiet, smart suspicion from mel is always incredible to see, her political mind and morals conflicting is so very engaging and she’s really developing into herself in these episodes which was a joy to witness. the mystery of her brother is compelling and links well through s1 and s2 to make the storyline fun to follow. i also simply must compliment the designs revolving around the noxians and animal-esque (sorry idk what they’re called) people. the absolute variety and inspiration from real life cultures is beautiful to see. i am incredibly confused about the magic and that one lady (amara?) but i assume that’ll be answered in later episodes.

jinx is not looking good lmao. i love her design being so corpse-like and deathly, it really fits well and really embraces the differences between powder and jinx. but i do wish we saw more of her. i see her actions but i lack understanding for some of them, primarily revolving around the child (isha?) and why the kids even there but the newfound bond between sevika and jinx is refreshing to see. the scene of them in silcos old office brought a smile to my face and the design of that fucking arm is soooo cool i love the clownish purely jinx vibe to it.

caitlyn is probably the stand out character so far (plus maybe viktor). her absolute grief and seeing her facade break down throughout the episodes was heartbreaking, the tentative yet conflicting moments of softness with vi were beautiful yet had that perfect undercurrent of tragedy that arcane masters so well. her rage and break up with vi was easy to see coming yet so incredibly jarring to watch, that harsh and merciless behaviour is so different from s1, the development is well done and a morbid pleasure to see. and that final episode. oh my. the shock to acceptance of darkness was fantastic, ambessa truly is a master at manipulating weakness in even the strongest of people and seeing this duo is going to be so soul crushing that i’m itching for more.

vi felt very rushed to me and alittle dry? idk why tho i can’t really explain it. i understand her choices but it felt like something was missing until that final scene with cait. that was an absolute masterpiece. seeing her realising that the horrors of war is corrupting everyone around her and pleading for it to please not happen is so so SO fucking sad and my heart was breaking. i loved seeing her moral strength and solidity to her values which has always been a key part of her character so i appreciate the consistency. idk why something about her was just… different.

the opening scene was incredible. the absolute horror of it was so clear and i was literally shaking the entire time. 10/10 opening.

overall, i hope things slow down alittle but i greatly enjoyed season 2 and im very excited to see the characters develop and to see even more of this beautiful world.

[nyxlarkyn]

Jinx's Dynamics Between Sevika and Isha Will be My Current Roman Empire:

Isha is holding onto the role of an inner child/Powder for Jinx.

I keep seeing mother/daughter comparisons between the two. A nice sentiment but not what's playing out. Think of Brittany Murphy's "Uptown Girls" Where a young girl forced to grow up early falls into the care of a woman clinging to her youth. Isha and Jinx will be about the cycle of trauma children face under the corruption of the upper and under cities. Isha is forced to survive at all costs at a young age and Jinx is a damaged individual lost within herself due to the same conditions Isha currently faces.

She's introduced to Jinx almost exactly the same way Silco took Powder in; terrified for her life a child buries herself in an adult for protection. Silco raises a hand to the child and his cronies watch on afraid of what he may do to this kid. Jinx waves a gun at her child and the audience watches on with the same dread Silcos lackeys held. Both sparing the girl and choosing to protect her. When Isha risks her life to save Jinx, I couldn't help but think of how Jinx must've been at that age with Silco. How she made a name for herself as his psycho daughter. The weight of a child ready to risk their life and kill for you.

Almost all of Isha's movements feel like they're just Powders old animations being recycled or her actions directly mirroring hers.

Isha's wardrobe is also very detailed. She has a similar helmet we've seen Powder wear, her boots have a very prominent X stitched on one and the other has a very deep V silhouette, she has one glove that looks like Jinx's gloves, her other arm is covered and wrapped with a red string- reminiscent of Vis wrappings, she also wears a beaded chocker that's laced around her neck the same way Jinx and Sevika wears theirs.

Speaking of Sevika:

Jinx chose to gift Sevika a new arm made out of parts of the old punching game the girls would train on as kids. We know the significance it holds to Jinx, so her taking it apart for Sevika is huge. This act is her dismantling her old relationship with her sister to form a new one with Sevika.

Sevika's eyes reflect more silver this season than brown making her more reminiscent of Powder and Vi. Her hair being down later in the season and Vi growing hers out and dying it black adds to their mirroring. They also fight with mechanical fist(s).

Silco was a man both Jinx and Sevika answered to. Whether or not Sevika viewed him as a Paternal figure, he was her most respected authority figure. Both women have that grief over Silco and bond over their resentment towards him and aimlessnes with him gone.

This post below inspire me to post this, because seriously why aren't more people talking about this.

[arcanecor3]

Sister parallels.

Okay so, this is me trying my best to explain my view of the parallel between these 2 scenes

Firstly, a little thing to keep in mind is that in this parallel, s2 Cait represents s1 Vi and s2 Vi represents Powder 

A big fight just happened, s1’s was the Vander rescue mission and s2’s was find Jinx, and both ended up going wrong because of someone who was supposed to help (Powder; s2Vi). After everything goes down at the s1 warehouse, we see Vi screaming and she is angry (i’ll come back to that later), and then Powder shows up with the “my monkey bomb finally worked” line we all know, and on s2 we have Caitlyn being the angry one because Vi didn’t let her shoot.

a little parallel with the lines:

“you did this?”-s1vi to powder

“you stopped me”-s2cait to vi

“i was saving you”-powder to s1vi

“that was a kid! what if you missed?”- s2vi to cait

Now, both s1 Vi and s2 Cait are blinded by anger and grief, so even tho the other person (Powder; s2vi) is explaining themselves (in Powder’s case it wasn’t the greatest explanation, but she does states that it was an accident, and s2 Vi was being rational), they don’t really listen because of all the anger.

then, Vi slaps powder, making her fall, and that’s when Powder desperately asks: “why did you leave me?” to which Vi answers: “because you’re a jinx! do you hear me? mylo was right". Now on s2, basically the same thing happens, just in a different order: s2 Cait says: “I keep telling myself that you’re different. but you’re not. it’s her (Jinx’s) blood that runs in your veins”, then Vi asks her: “then why are you the one acting like her?” and Caitlyn hits vi, knocking her to the ground. AND IN S2 WE EVEN GET A SHOT OF ANGRY CAITLYN LOOKING AT VI CRYING, JUST LIKE S1 VI LOOKED ANGRY AT POWDER CRYING. LIKE HOW SICK AND TWISTED IS THAT.

Then both s1 Vi and s2 Cait walk away, leaving the other one crying alone on the floor. 

The thing is that crying is the exactly what we expect from Powder, since that’s how she was during the entire scene, because that’s how her character is. but not Vi. Because during the entire of the s2 scene vi wasn’t actually crying, in fact, Vi barely cries in the whole show, the only time we see her actually sobbing is during the bridge scene from s1e1, when she saw her dead parents. And since then, she has trained and fought to become a person who can protect those she loves. And even when everything goes down at the s1 warehouse, we only get to see her a glimpse of her crying before she tried to go back to powder, but she’s mainly angry, that’s the way Vi usually reacts to these situations. She gets angry. And she tries to do everything in her power to go after who hurt her/the people she loves.

But this s2 scene is different. She simply has nowhere to go. Once again, she lost everything. Her family? dead. you might argue there’s Jinx but as Vi herself said: “my sister is gone”. the last person she had was Caitlyn, and she left, and Vi now feels like she ruined everything again, because that’s how she is, she burdens herself with the guilt and blames herself. So when you see Vi just, on her knees, crying, it’s just so devastating when you think that she is like that because her life is essentially over. All there’s left to her is cry. Just like Powder in the end of s1e3, s2e3 Vi lost everyone.

But that’s when the parallel ends, because it’s when Powder was in that desperate state that silco came, and even though his character divides opinions, you can’t deny that he took care of and loved Powder (who became Jinx).

Vi doesn’t have anyone to come and save her, to wipe away her tears like she had done so many times before for Caitlyn and before that for Powder. She is alone.

thank you to whoever read this entire thing for contributing to my arcane obsession, and shoutout to my amazing friend who helped me put this together @crzytoogetherr 🥰🥰