#young vi

[arcanegifs]

ARCANE LEAGUE OF LEGENDS: 1x01 - "Welcome to the Playground" ↳ "Vander learns none of this."

[gingerpines]

teen!caitvi AU drabble based on this art by me!

warning: i am not a writer! and english isn’t my first language! i hope this still makes sense :) its a bit messy its not very well explained sometimes but i hope i got the point across! enjoy!

Ekko was sent by benzo to deliver things at jayce’s workshop and vi and claggor join because ekko’s quite young to go on his own anyways, vi is like, acting as the bodyguard and shes looking all tough and mysterious making sure ekko is okay constantly

they knock and stand at the door, vi staying behind ekko to look around and jayce is like come in! bc they have quite a lot of things and while vi stands back still cautious, she completely drops her tough demeanor when she sees young cait tinkering with some of jayce’s stuff, goggles on. Vi tries to be discreet but her eyes keep darting back at Cait while ekko and jayce conclude business, claggor catches vi but doesnt say anything, and cait comes towards them, taking the goggles off, a big smile on her face.

"Nice to meet you all!" she goes in her thick british accent and she offers a handshake to Vi who doesnt know what to do with that so she kinda blushes and stares at cait, cait going "I’m Caitlyn!" and, embarrassed and flustered, vi just frowns and doesnt say anything, sorta turning around and caitlyn takes that VERY personally and from that point on she’s got beef with her and Vi kinda regrets how stupid she acted but tries not to think about it too much.

now everytime ekko has business in piltover, vi INSISTS on joining, saying its for safety but really its in the hopes she’ll run into caitlyn again. one time at a fair, benzo has a booth to sell things in piltover and ekko runs it, naturally, vi and the other kids join, Jayce and Caitlyn visit the booth and when cait sees Vi she just turns her head away with a frown, still upset at their last interaction and refusing to look at her, and Vi decides to tease her and ask about what theyre doing here. Cait kinda ignores her at first but ends up yapping about jayce’s and her’s latest experiments and shes talking sooo much and vi listens to all of it and when cait realized shes been talking too much they both kinda laughs and then jayce says they have to go so they leave and they smile at each other

throughout the fair Cait tries to “accidentally” walk in front of ekko’s booth again, and when she does, Vi is gone and she asks Ekko where she went and ekko shrugs, cait keeps walking around until she sees Vi walk around and cait joins her and they just kinda tease each other and argue the whole day but in a cute way but they both try to pretend they dont like the other bc they have such different lives and vi keeps calling cait entitled but she doesnt even mean it. From then on, Vi starts sneaking out to meet Cait outside her gate, but she has no idea how to get her attention, so she kinda sits there in the rain for a while until one of the dog starts barking, waking, thankfully, only Caitlyn up who looks out her bedroom window and goes outside to see little wet puppy vi standing at the gate and trying to make up an excuse as to why shes here like jayce forgot a tool from ekko and it was just easier to get it to her house instead and they end up talking until so late even tho its freezing outside, the gate still separating them, like the wall that socially separates them.

they start meeting up almost every week, like clockwork, outside of Cait’s house to talk, and for Cait to yap about things she likes while Vi listens. one day, Cassandra catches them and forbids Cait to see Vi again. They both cry themselves to sleep and Vander notices Vi’s change in mood after that, and asks her about it. she tells him everything and apologizes for lying and sneaking out but vander isnt upset, he hugs her and tells her theyre going to figure it out.

Vander decides to go talk to Cassandra at the next Piltover-Zaun event, Vi standing shyly behind Vander’s leg, Caitlyn standing straight next to Cassandra, both girls so excited to see each other again even tho its weird and awkward with their parents talking in front of them, Cassandra listens to Vander who’s putting on The Charm™️ and she eventually sighs and allows them to see each other bc she sees Vi isnt a menace

that day they both walk around Piltover, often almost holding hands but theyre too shy so they don’t, but Vi wants to show Cait she likes her but she doesnt know how to because they shouldnt and also because she doesnt know how to show love in a way that Caitlyn would understand. they walk around and its comfortably quiet this time, even tho theyre used to yapping and yapping for hours but this time they just want each other’s presence. at one point they walk through a tiny crowd and theres a small group of Zaunites laughing at them, at the contrast between their clothes and demeanors and they hear one of the boys call Caitlyn and a not-so-nice words like stuck up or worse, Vi isn’t even sure but she immediately knocks him down in one punch and Cait has absolutely no idea what to do or say but she then grabs Vi’s hand and they run away, when theyre safe away from that crowd, Caitlyn gets SOOO mad in her little british accent and Vi just sits, knuckles bloody, listening to Cait lecture her.

Eventually, cait calms down and looks down at Vi’s hands and sighs, starting to unwrap her bandages to check her wound muttering “You are such an idiot, Violet.” and Vi just smiles as Cait cleans her wounds.

bonus:

cait begging her mom to let her bring vi to one of the shooting tournaments and Vi joins and they have so much fun and cait lets vi try out her rifle and shes so bad and they laugh and caitlyn teaches her and theyre having a moment but cait’s parents interrupt and theyre blushing and being silly teenagers with a crush and they dont know how to deal with it. cait is definitely the one to fall first even tho she represses it bc vi is from zaun and thats not how she was raised, but she becomes closer with vi and vi realizes wayyyyy too late that she has a massive crush and also that cait is not being slick about it in the slightest. she talks about it with vander at the last drop she sits at the counter with her head in her hands like ughhhhhh i hate having a crush its so stupid and vander laughs

thank u for reading :))

[unknown-cold]

Am I the only one in the Arcane community who wants a music video for Vi so bad, She literally deserves it @forticheprod

[backstabber128]

Here's some sketches of a random crack Arcane x God of War + Ragnarok AU bc of these ideas-- (Also bc the Norse mythology style is absolutely awesome 👀)

I couldn't resist imagining what little Vi & Pow would look like as mini gods with their adult tattoos like Atreus. Also me being delusional imagining Warwick protecting them as part of Vander's shape shifting ability--

Also headcanon that Odin/Silco has mind control powers, hence Vi and Powder vs Warwick rip. He tears their family apart even in this AU 🫠

+ Jinx gaining Baldur-like abilities through becoming Silco's daughter

[immortalbumblebee]

Chapter 20: Forged in Fire

So two chapters of this series passed 100 notes this week? Holy shit, guys!!! Thank you so much! I've been trying to find as much time for writing between finals, but this is probably going to be the last chapter I publish until the hoidays.

Thank you so much for y'all support. The likes and comments are really motivating.

Content warning for mentions of birth

Masterlist

Working at the factory had become excruciating since you got arrested. Well, it had always been a little excruciating. But it had been especially bad for these past few months once word had gotten out that you’d spent the night at the Enforcer HQ. Your pay had been considerably docked, nearly all your coworkers all but refused to interact with you, and all your supervisors would go out of their way to be right pricks to you whenever given the chance. Morichi had made it clear that you’d almost fully lost your job from the whole kerfuffle.

It was fairly easy to ignore when you were working, primarily just focusing on your work. Sure, your supervisors were bad, but no worse than the chembarons your sort were used to back home. No, what really made it insufferable were the moments between work, like in the dressing room when you could feel your coworkers eyes’ on you, hear their judgmental murmurings. 

Finally shedding yourself of the annoyingly stuffy uniform, you couldn’t help but close your locker with a particularly loud ‘slam’. The room grew silent at this, which only worked to further irritate you.

Fuck this

Storming out of the change room, you didn’t even think as you made your way down the hallway and over to the catwalk that led you to the staff entrance. As you crossed the raised catwalk, however, you found yourself stilling as you passed over the main floor underneath. Down there, you could hear the high-pitched hum of the metal on the conveyor lines. Eerily familiar. As you watched the assembly line workers do their work, you found yourself focusing on the metal parts being put together. Long pipes and complex golden mechanisms. All being locked together and assembled until finally…the all too familiar shine of the barrel of an Encorfcer’s gun. Hundreds, if not thousands of them being pumped out of this factory every damn day.

You’d put the dots together after your arrest, when the Enforcers had stormed the fighting ring. The ringing had been too familiar, like a blacksmith recognizing his own maker’s mark. 

Zeroing in on the cool, familiar texture of the metal, you couldn't resist the urge to lift one hand. A few pieces on the conveyor belt trembled briefly, then floated effortlessly a couple of inches off the ground. With a subtle flex of your fingers, the metal obeyed—curling in on itself with a sharp, satisfying ‘crunch.’ It was almost as if you were breathing—effortless, instinctive, and perfectly in tune with the world around you.

Shaking your head out of your thoughts, you let the metal fall thoughtlessly back onto the belt and went to continue on your way, didn’t even notice anyone around you as you began to march down the catwalk. That is, until you came crashing full-force into a tiny body. Colliding, you both stumbled back, the impact snapping you out of your daze. 

“Oh!” Victoria exclaimed, jumping back. “Terribly sorry!”

“Oh my gods, no. I’m so sorry. I totally wasn’t looking where I was going.” You scan her over, but she looks fine.

“No, no. ‘ts my fault, really!” She waved her hands anxiously, her cheeks flushing. “Are y’alright, miss?”

“I’m fine.” You give her a little smile. “Thanks.”

"N' problem!" she says, just as a few of your coworkers round the corner. The moment they spot you and her standing there, their expressions shift subtly, but it's enough to catch your attention. You can practically hear the hushed whispers starting up behind you as they hurry past, heads down, moving with that practiced air of nonchalance—like they think the two of you are completely oblivious to the thinly veiled judgment they're broadcasting.

“Well now,” Victoria murmurs, “who pissed in their pond?”

“Sorry,” You sigh, lifting your hand to rub the bridge of your nose in annoyance. “Y’may wanna back off from me. Seems like ‘m bit of a social pariah at the moment.”

Victoria shrugs. “Like anyone ‘round ‘ere be given’ me the time of day, anyday? I’m the only foreigner workin’ here, lass. Heard you got yourself locked up?”

“It’s…a long story.”

Victoria seems to think for a moment, looks around (lacking any semblance of subtlety) then motions to the worker’s exit. “Wanna catch a smoke wit’ me?”

As she led you outside, you were immediately thrown off by the unexpected direction she took. Instead of heading toward the usual smoking section, she veered sharply in the opposite direction, heading straight for the bridge. Her pace quickened, and despite your curiosity, you asked her where she was taking you. Without even looking back, she waved you off, offering no explanation.

For a moment, a flicker of doubt crossed your mind—was this some sort of twisted trap? Were you walking into some elaborate murder plot? The thought lingered, but before you could give it more weight, she made a sharp turn down a narrow flight of stairs, just as the bridge came into view behind you. You had never taken this path before, and only now did you realize how easily you'd overlooked it. The steps seemed unremarkable, tucked away beneath the looming shadow of the bridge, as if they were meant to be ignored.

The descent felt oddly quiet, the rhythmic thud of your footsteps mingling with the distant hum of the city. After just a few flights of stairs, the air grew thicker with the scent of brine and decay. You reached the bottom and, as you rounded the last corner, the waters of Pilt River stretched out before you. A small, neglected beach lay before you, its shoreline littered with an unsightly amount of garbage. Old, rusted cans, plastic wrappers, and pieces of broken wood jutted out from the dirt, an unfortunate testament to the city’s disregard for this forgotten corner.

Yet, amidst the debris, something caught your eye. Set into the side of a nearby wall, nearly camouflaged by grime and neglect, was a large manhole. About as tall as Vander, if you had to guess. The rusted metal bars that covered the opening were more than big enough for a normal-sized person to slip right through.

“What…is this?” You asked Victoria. 

‘M not really sure, to be frank.” She shrugged, wandering closer to the giant manholes. “When I first moved ‘ere, I took it upon m’self to find all the points o’ access t’ the water tha’ I could. Even if I can’ be swimmin’ in it, it’s nice just to be close to it y’know? But these…these stuck out t’ me.” She slipped right through the bars. “This tunnel in particular splits off, say, ‘bout half a mile out? Goes that-a ways,” she points off in the direction of the bridge, “righ’ under the river.”

You followed her lead, stepping easily through the rusted metal bars. The air in the tunnels was thick and stagnant, a foul mix of rotting garbage and something else—something eerily familiar. A few breaths later, the stench hit you like a wave, sharp and unmistakable—the pungent smell of Zaun’s mines. It was the same stench that clung to the clothes of the boys when they came home from work, the same tainted air that swept through the slums and left so many of your people sick every day.

"This... this is part of the Underground’s ventilation system," you said, the realization hitting you as the damp walls closed in. "It must have overlapped with Piltover’s sewage system somewhere along the way, when they were engineering the city. Seems pretty par for the course, doesn't it?"

Victoria wrinkled her nose. "Ventilation and sewage?" she repeated, sounding dubious. "That don’ 'ound righ’."

You stifle a chuckle. "Welcome to life on the other side of the bridge." You paused, eyeing the dark path ahead. "But... Victoria, you’re sure this leads to the other side?” 

She nods. “Not far in, I’d wager, but it definitely be lettin’ out on the Promenade. Been there m’self. Tunnels could definitely use some serious upkeep though, I warn. There’ a pretty big leak a good ways in.”

“How many people know about this?” you asked, your mind racing with possibilities.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Who else would I be tellin’, Lass?"

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "Then why show me?"

She shifted uncomfortably, casting a sideways glance at you.

“Well, if I’m bein’ honest…you’re the only one at that factory that treats me as anything more than a stupid immigrant that ‘an’t speak. And I figure, if you e’er need to…y’know, I just figure you’d ‘ave more use for this than me.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. You felt the cogs in your mind clicking into place. A direct tunnel from the Promenade to Topside. The sheer scale of it hit you like a punch to the gut.

"Lady be damned." You muttered under your breath, shaking your head. The magnitude of what you were looking at was sinking in. You raised a hand and let it slide over the worn stone, feeling the miles of metal pipes buried within it. The structure was ancient, far older than anything you’d seen before. It would need significant repairs before being used for anything substantial, but the potential... The potential was enormous.

“Victoria…” you said, your voice low with awe. “You’ve got no idea how big this is gonna be."

Back at the apartment, you’re more than happy to share this news with the guys. You pulled out the old blueprints—dusty, frayed at the edges, but still legible enough to make sense of. They’d been tucked away for years, a relic from when one of you managed to snag them from Piltover’s archives. As you spread the paper across the table, the lines and markings revealed exactly what you’d hoped for: the tunnel on Piltover’s side was labeled as a sewage system, but further down by the shoreline, it merged seamlessly with the ventilation tunnel that led up into Zaun’s upper levels.

The room grew quiet as everyone leaned in, taking in the implications.

“How bad’s the damage?” Vander asked, his gravelly voice cutting through the silence. His brow furrowed with concern. “This girl, Victoria, said there’s a leak?”

You ran a hand through your hair, trying to recall every detail Victoria had mentioned. “I’m not sure exactly. The tunnels are old, and if there’s a leak, it could be a serious issue. But if I can get in there with Connol and some of the other factory folks, we can probably assess the damage and figure out how to fix it.”

Vander gave you a curt nod, but the expression on his face told you he wasn’t completely satisfied. He was always cautious, always weighing the risks.

Silco, ever the skeptic, leaned forward, his sharp eyes fixed on you. “And your source can be trusted?” His voice was calm, but there was a glint of doubt in his gaze as he scribbled something into the worn pages of his notebook.

You met his gaze, unwavering. “I’d say so. She’s Bilgewater-folk, like me and Ma.” You paused, considering the weight of your words. "I trust her. She wouldn't steer me wrong."

Benzo let out a laugh, breaking the tension that had begun to build in the room. He threw an arm around you in a rough, familiar gesture, his grin wide and infectious. “Trust a gutter fish to be all tricksy-like,” he joked, the teasing tone in his voice lightening the mood. “Good find, Fishie.”

“If we’re able to get this into proper commission, this could change a lot of Zaun’s infrastructure. What if we—” Silco’s words were abruptly cut off as the door to the apartment swung open with a loud crash. The sudden intrusion startled everyone, and you all whipped around, trying to make sense of the noise.

Standing in the doorway, panting heavily and struggling to catch her breath, was Niya. She was disheveled, her work clothes torn and streaked with dirt, as if she’d sprinted across the entire length of Zaun. Her eyes were wide, panic etched across her face.

“What in the blazes—!” Benzo started, his voice rising in surprise and confusion.

Niya barely seemed to hear him as she staggered into the room, clutching her side and gasping for air. “Felicia, she–fuck that was a lot of stairs-she-” She made a sudden gagging sound, her body curling inward as if she was about to collapse. It was clear that she was exhausted, and something about her frantic movements made your gut twist with unease.

“Fel? What’s wrong with Fel?!” Vander sprang into action, running over to help Niya further into the apartment as she continued to hack up a lung. The moment his hands were on her, however, the poor girl all but collapsed into him. 

“The baby!” Niya puttered out. “Fel, she-oh geez-went into labour!” 

The apartment broke out into panic, all four of you crying out in different voices.

“The baby’s not due for another couple months!” Silco’s voice broke out against the panic.

“Seven weeks, but yeah. I know.” Niya gestured to herself, her breath still ragged. “You think I would’ve run all the way over here if it wasn’t an emergency?”

You felt your heart sink as you moved quickly to support her, taking her into your arms, steadying her as she swayed on her feet. “Niya, where is she?” The urgency in your voice was impossible to hide now.

She wiped a hand across her face, trying to push through her exhaustion. “We were at her place. Had a playdate scheduled. My niece, Skye, she—” She broke off, coughing harshly, and then continued, “She ran to get Dr. Yan.”

“And Connol?” Silco’s voice cut through the room, sharp and demanding.

Niya pointed back toward the door, her body still shaking. “Already ran and got him from Heisen’s factory. He should be with her by now.”

Vander, already moving, was the first to gear up. As he laced up his boots, his expression hardened, a stone wall of determination. His voice dropped into that deep, commanding tone that everyone knew meant business.

“We need to move, now!” Vander’s words were quick, measured. “Min, grab the first aid kit, painkillers, any medicine we’ve got. Benzo, emergency water, towels, matches—now! Move it!”

The adrenaline coursed through you, making everything seem sharper, faster, like your mind was suddenly running in overdrive. Your heart beat heavily in your chest as you sprang into action. Your legs felt like they were moving on their own, each step pulling you closer to where you needed to be. You bolted and grabbed the first aid kit, not bothering to check what was inside as you threw it into an old duffle bag. Then, you started grabbing anything else you could find—rubbing alcohol, numbing ointment, gauze strips, painkillers, and any other supplies that might come in handy.

Benzo was already ahead of you, throwing on his jacket and grabbing the emergency water, towels, and matches, his usual lighthearted demeanor gone. His face was set, and you knew that under all the humor, he was as serious as Vander right now.

“We’ve got that shipment coming in from Noxus tonight.” Benzo mentioned, handing Vander the supplies. “But only one of us has to be there to do the hand-off. I’ll meet you at Con and Fel’s.”

You shake your head, handing Silco your duffle. “Two of us go, just to be safe.

Silco’s sharp mind was already calculating their best route, and you could practically hear the gears turning in his head. “Vander, Niya and I can take the path that lets up by Babette’s,” he said, looking over at you all. “If you take the route we take to Lou’s from the promenade, it’ll get you back to their apartment the fastest. Cuts through some of the alleyways, avoids main streets. You’ll be there in half the time than any of the main routes.”

Vander nodded, already moving toward the door. “Good, let’s go!”

***

The tradeoff had taken far longer than expected, and when you finally reached the apartment, Felicia’s piercing screams echoed down the hallway, sharp and urgent even from several doors away. Your steps quickened, Benzo muttering under his breath about the delay as the two of you pushed through the door.

Inside, the tension was palpable. Niya stood near the window, her arms crossed tightly as she glanced toward the bathroom door. The little girl at her side—her niece, Skye—clutched an old book to her chest, her glasses slipping slightly down her nose as she looked up at you with wide, curious eyes. On the bed in the corner, Violet sat perched beside Vander, her legs swinging back and forth as he played with her and an old stuffed rabbit. The moment you stepped inside, she spotted you, her face lighting up like a candle.

“Auntie Min! Uncle Benzo!” Violet squealed, leaping from the bed and barreling toward you.

“Sorry we’re late!” Benzo panted as he stepped over the threshold, ruffling his hair with one hand. “Damn traders wouldn’t stop haggling, and then someone got knife-happy.”

You shrugged off your jacket and hung it over the back of a chair. “I got them to agree to the original price in the end, didn’t I?” you shot back, giving him a sideways glance. “How’s she doing?”

“No major updates yet,” Silco answered, his tone clipped but steady. “But we haven’t had to call in an emergency ride to the hospital, so that’s a good sign—for now.” His eyes darted to the bathroom door before returning to you, his mouth pressed into a tight line.

Violet reached you, arms outstretched, and you scooped her up effortlessly, her tiny frame folding into your chest. She wrapped her arms around your neck and squeezed tightly, her happiness contagious even in the heavy atmosphere.

“Auntie Min, look what Uncle Vander gave me!” Her little hands grasped a little golden amulet tied to a thin black cord around her neck. It was a simple piece of jewelry, but you recognized it easily as a bracelet that Vander liked to wear to important events.

“Wow! Look at that!” You smiled, your eyes casting over to Vander with a raised eyebrow. “That was very nice of him.”

Vander, standing nearby with a proud smile, nudged Violet gently and stepped over to the two of you. He wrapped a secure arm around your waist, pulling you a little closer.

"Tell Minnie what I told you when I gave it to you, kiddo," he prompted, his voice warm and encouraging.

"Umm... if I'm gonna be a big sister..." Violet said really slow, her eyebrows all scrunched up like she was thinking hard. "I gotta remember to take care of them. And... this is gonna be a thing that helps me remember!". She leaned back just a little, her face lighting up with a wide, toothy grin as she looked up at you. Her excitement was so pure, so full of love, that it was impossible not to smile in return. That bright smile, filled with so much promise and joy, made your heart melt in a way nothing else could. You gave her a little extra squeeze and a kiss to the forehead before setting her down.

“You’re gonna be a great big sister, Luv,” Benzo replied, stepping in for a quick high-five that made her giggle.

“Is Dr. Yan in there with your parents?” he asked, motioning to the closed bathroom door.

Violet nodded, her bright pink locks bouncing with the movement as she pointed toward the door. “Mommy’s been in there a long time.”

“These things take time, little one,” Silco said gently as you brushed her hair back from her face. You could feel her energy, her eagerness, and a touch of nervousness beneath it all. She clung to you like a lifeline, her small fingers gripping your shirt.

From the corner, Vander cleared his throat, catching your attention. He looked calm but watchful, his hand resting on the children’s book he’d set aside. “Felicia’s tough. She’ll pull through,” he said in his steady, reassuring tone.

Benzo nodded, his jaw tightening. “She’s tougher than most of us, that’s for damn sure.”

The seconds stretched into what felt like hours, and the room seemed to tighten with anticipation. The low hum of voices behind the door grew, rising and falling in strange patterns, and then it happened—the crescendo of frantic, desperate cries, followed by an eerie, sudden silence. The apartment held its breath. Time itself seemed to stop. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on that door, waiting for the next sound, the next moment, but it was as if the world itself was waiting to exhale.

And then… the sharp, unmistakable wail of a baby filled the space, raw and full of life. It was a sound so powerful it seemed to shake the air itself.

“Oh, thank the gods…” Niya let out a long, relieved sigh, her head falling forward as if the weight of the world had just been lifted from her shoulders. Her shoulders slumped in exhaustion, the tension that had coiled in her body for so long finally unraveling. Skye gently placed a hand on her aunt’s shoulder.

Vander chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that filled the room with warmth. “It’s got a set of lungs, that’s for damn sure.” His voice cracked with genuine amusement, and he gave a small shake of his head, still eyeing the door as though waiting for the next sound, the next sign. Violet, unable to contain her excitement any longer, made a move toward the door. Her small feet pounded against the floor, eager to see her new sibling. But before she could take another step, Vander was there, quick as ever, sweeping her up into his arms with a gentle but firm grip. "Not yet, kiddo," he said, his voice soft but clear. "You’ve gotta wait for your parents to let you in on their own time. Okay?" Violet pouted slightly, her small lips curling into a frown, but she nodded, her eyes still trained on the door. 

And wait you all did, for yet another set of long moments, Felicia’s cries now replaced with that of the infant. The rest of the group tried to busy themselves as best as they could—Benzo and Skye even began washing some of the dishes that had been left in the sink, their clattering almost a distraction from the tension hanging in the air. 

Violet, content to be held by Vander, made faces at him, trying to distract herself. Conversations about business and idle chatter filled the gaps between those breaths, but none of it mattered. Not really. You couldn’t escape the waiting, the anticipation. Everyone in the room had been drawn into the same orbit, eyes occasionally drifting toward the door, hearts waiting for the next moment to arrive.

And then, with a soft creak, the door to the bathroom opened. The room fell utterly silent, as if the very air had been sucked out of the space. All eyes turned toward Connol, who stood in the doorway.

He looked dazed, weary, his face a mix of exhaustion and elation. His hand rubbed over his face, as if to wipe away the tension of the past hours. For a split second, panic flared in your chest—something about the way he looked, so tired and worn, unsettled you. But then he looked up at all of you, his eyes catching yours, and he smiled.

“It’s a girl!”

The apartment erupted in a wave of cheers and clapping, the tension finally breaking as everyone poured out their relief and joy. Vander and Silco both lunged at Connol, enveloping him in an enthusiastic embrace that was almost too aggressive for the moment, clapping him on the back hard enough to nearly knock him over. Connol, despite his exhaustion, laughed, wrapping his arms around them in return.

Violet, who had been playing with Vander, was suddenly all movement. She wriggled free from Vander’s grasp and darted across the room, her small legs carrying her quickly toward her father. Connol, still smiling wide, scooped her up into his arms, pressing a kiss to her hair and snuggling her closer to his chest. She giggled, the joy on her face as radiant as his.

“Are they both okay?” Silco asked, his voice a little rough with concern as he gripped Connol’s shoulder tightly.

“They’re fine! Perfectly fine!” Connol grinned, shifting Violet to his hip as he addressed the room. His voice was brimming with pride. “Yan wants to keep the baby in an incubator for a few days just to be sure, that’s where she is now. She might have a little trouble breathing, but…” He paused, looking down at Violet, then back at the others. “They’re both going to be okay.”

Violet’s eyes widened, her small hands tugging at Connol’s shirt. “Can I see Mommy now?” she asked, her voice filled with the kind of innocence and urgency that only a child could muster.

From behind the bathroom door, Felicia’s voice echoed out, soft but clear, though tinged with exhaustion. “You promise to be gentle and careful, sweetie,” she said. “Especially around the incubator.”

Yan poked his head out from the bathroom, his weathered face creased with lines that spoke of years spent helping others. He gave the room a reassuring smile. “The bleeding is minimal now, so long as Violet can handle a little post-birth gore,” he added with a knowing chuckle.

“I can handle it! I can handle it!” Violet exclaimed, twisting and wiggling her way out of Connol’s arms before taking off in a full sprint toward the bathroom. Connol watched her with a mixture of amusement and pride, a soft laugh escaping his lips. His eyes softened as he let out a long, weary sigh.

“Seven weeks early…” he muttered, his tone low, his hand rubbing his tired eyes. “I’ll admit, I was terrified.”

Silco, ever the steady presence, gave Connol’s shoulder another pat, his expression serious but supportive. “Yan’s practically delivered every baby in the Lanes for the past 20 years. They were in good hands,” he said, offering his usual reassurance.

“I know, but still…” Connol trailed off, his voice still carrying the weight of the fear he’d carried with him through the night. Then, as if a thought suddenly struck him, he turned his gaze toward Silco and Niya, who had been talking quietly in the kitchen. “Actually, speaking of being in good hands…” he started, his tone shifting to something more deliberate. “Fel and I were talking, and… we want you two to be her godparents. With Vander and Min being Violet’s, it just felt right, you know?”

Niya’s eyes widened in disbelief. She nearly squealed as she stepped forward. “Are… are you serious?” she exclaimed, her voice cracking with excitement. “Oh my goodness, Con! I don’t even know what to say!”

Silco, his usual calm demeanor never faltering, smiled warmly and extended his hand toward Connol. “I think I speak for both of us when I say we’d be honored, and we won’t disappoint. She’s in good hands, I swear it.”

Then, as Connol took his hand into a firm handshake, Silco paused, “Does she, uh…you know, does she have a name?”

Connol’s smile widened. “We talked about that, too. We were waiting to decide when she came out but,” he gave a nod, his expression full of love and certainty. “Powder. Her name is Powder.”

[q8qwertyuiop8p]

New League Splashes! Vi, Singed, and Cait

TFT Art! Vander and young Vi

If they don't make a new tft art for Silco then they are definitely mocking us. Every time they have drawn him in TFT so far aside from the Into the Arcane promo they have "beautified" him, absolutely butchering his beautiful Roman nose and mutilating his face.

They owe it to us to give Silco an actually good splash, and if they do not give it to us then I will absolutely never play TFT, League, Valorant, or any game Riot makes for that matter. Not even the upcoming fighting or rpg ones. We can't let them think this is ok. On the other hand, I promise if they make an actually good Silco art I will try to play TFT and the fighting game at least once. Don't let us down Riot 🙏🙏🙏

[rin-moonlight]

Finished video

[fallingrealms16]

ARCANE LORE????

I’m actually sobbing. Someone on tik tok was talking about canon lore and some stuff came up about vi when she went to prison as a kid.

APPARENTLY when the guards would beat her up she would scream and ask for Powder but because the guards and warden didn’t know who that was they thought she was an addict and was asking for some sort of drug :((( VI JUST WANTED HER SISTER I’m unwell

They said that this was from the legends of Runeterra card game??? That is was from logbooks from Stillwater prison

Can ANYONE pls confirm this or know where I can read up more on the lore?? I just need to know

[fandommoodboards]

Teenage Vi, from Netflix's Arcane: League of Legends!

Requested by anon!

[bloodcossmos]

watching arcane s1 again and as I'm finishing act 1 I realized I didn't remember that Vi was gonna give herself up to the Enforcers to protect the others.

oh my fucking god.

[girl4music]

This is adorable. Omg. Right in the feels 🤗

But where’s Isha and Caitlyn? I’m concerned. 😦

[trashnotfound]

I cant get over the fact that no matter what Vi doesn’t get to have her happy ending

She just wanted zaun to be a better place for her family. She either pays that price with her life, or doesn’t get it at all

I know she ended up with Cait and I’m so glad she was able to find love with her and start a brand new life with her. That I HOPE is good for her

I just can’t look at young vi the same now, knowing she doesn’t get the life she wanted and has to live without the person who kept her going. Vi lived to protect and care for her family, and even after she did all she could, she still ended up loosing them

It’s just so heartbreaking to see her not get her desired ending in any universe.

Like look at her :( imagine having to tell her she never gets to spend her life with powder, she’d be devastated

AHHHHH IT MAKES ME SICK

[candysdoodles]

[backstabber128]

Despite everything, it's still you ❤️‍🩹

....

[immortalbumblebee]

Chapter 15: Support Beam

Baby Vi? Baby Vi.

Masterlist

“And you’re sure you can’t stay for some tea, pet?” Babette asked, the older Yordle trotting behind you as you stepped outside. The cold air washed over your exposed face, making you pull your bandana back up, snug over your nose.

Looking down at the woman, no more than three feet tall, you smiled at her behind the mask. “Sorry Ma’am, not this time.”

She smiles back at you, the lines on her face crinkling, showing the woman’s age (a feat, accounting for Yordles’ ability to live for centuries). “Well then, you be safe and try to stay warm tonight, alright? Don’t need you catching a cold, and tell those boys of yours I send my love!” Allowing her a motherly kiss on the cheek, you bid her one final farewell before turning and continuing on your way.

You embraced the feeling of falling into the crowd, a face among many as merchants called out to possible buyers. There were a few looming figures up above on the catwalks too, bridges merging sections of different levels along the chasm, highlighting Zaun’s disordered, haphazard engineering and architecture. You tried not to linger on those looming figures though, you’d learned long ago that people who tended to linger out in the open in the Underground were rarely the type of people you cared to associate with outside of business. Instead, you turned to the paper that Benzo had handed to you this morning, a list of names written in his messy script.

“Connol and Felicia…” You mused. “Wonder what they wanted to talk about.”

Rounds had started a while back, maybe about two or three years or so. A particularly bad round of enforcer raids had left some of the businesses in shambles and the people worried, so your small group of four had rallied up and organized a sort of club, one could call it? A group of people who all took turns taking a night to walk along the streets of the fissures (always armed), taking note of anything that could be an issue; enforcers sniffing around where they shouldn’t, reporting bodies washing up in the sewer pipes, helping any drunken idiots home, that sort of thing. But over time it also adapted to be a sort of…check-in with people? Someone could call on the apartment and say they wanted to talk with people about the revolution if it wasn’t an emergency, then someone would drop by and hear them out. It was honestly a great way to stay in tune with the people you were fighting with/for, a way to keep on the Undercity’s pulse, and even get new information on jobs or stuff happening across the river.

Just sucked that it was an all-night investment. But hey, not like you maintained a regular sleep schedule on a normal day.

You tucked your hands in your pockets as you continue your walk through the street, scanning your surroundings and smiling to the merchants and customers that you knew. A few times you noted some of the more shadowy sellers eyeing you from their booths; individuals selling live animals, “exotic” goods from the Shadow Isles or Freljord, and possibly even a booth selling what you’re pretty sure were hard drugs. If it exists, you can sell it in Zaun, right? You heard Benzo’s chastising voice in your head telling you to mind your business, so you turned the other way.

Not long after, you arrive at a simple metal apartment building; like thousands of others all over the Underground. It’s thin, carefully slotted in between two much thicker buildings as if it was an afterthought, filling in an alleyway with a cramped structure of silver and broken windows. As you’re about to walk in through the building’s front door, however, there’s the sound of a window opening and the loud screaming of a toddler.

“What the…” You look up to find a round, grinning face staring down at you, a little three-year-old girl happily calling to you from three stories up as she waves with both hands.

“Minny! Minny!” Young Violet calls, and you can’t help but laugh a little at the sight. “I’m up here!” Bright pink hair sat atop her hair, sticking out at every odd angle, matching her soft pink night dress.

“Yes, I see that Violet.” You smile and nod. “Please be careful, you don’t want to fall from all the way up there, right?”

“I…” She pauses, in the way that young children do mid-sentence, then continues to giggle “I won’t!”

“I’m going to walk up and come to your door, okay?” You ask, motioning to the door. “Be there when I knock?”

“Yeah!”

And sure enough, just as you knocked on the heavy wooden door of the family apartment, you could hear her shouting from the other side. It only took a moment for Connol to answer the door, emerging with Violet popped on his hip. He had obviously just gotten home from work himself, still partially clad in his factory coveralls with the sleeves tied around his waist, chest covered by a stained grey t-shirt. His violent red hair stuck up at any angle it saw fit, just like his daughter’s, and his eyes showed clear signs of exhaustion, but his smile was still easy and warming.

“Minny!” The young girl screamed! Atop her father’s hip, she now carried a stuffed rabbit and was contently sucking on one of the ears.

“Min, good seeing you!” Connol ushered you in, closing the door behind you. He has a kind voice, low in timbre with a slight rasp you’ve come to associate with those who’ve worked in the mines. “’m sorry for the mess, with both of us still working, and now with Violet…”

“Hey, you don’t need to explain anything to me.” You laugh, lowering your bandana. “You’ve seen our apartment, right? Hardly ones to judge.”

He chuckled at that, putting Violet down gently. “Ha, fair enough. What do we say to our guest, Sweetheart?”

Violet happily grabbed you by the hand and started leading you toward the seating area. Although “seating area” may be misleading, as the whole entirety of the apartment was maybe twice the area space of Jericho’s booth if that. A small couch was pushed off to the corner, placed among stacks of books and various baby toys, with a fridge and oven (that looked to be broken) right next to it as a ‘kitchen’. A bedroom, that is, a double mattress with a second-hand crib was blocked off with a curtain on the other side of the apartment, and then a little washroom walled off, although missing its door. But even with the crampedness, the three of them made it feel homey. The baby toys, dirty dishes, and clothes that Felicia was working on made the home feel lived-in, along with various bits and pieces you assumed were parts of Connol’s diy projects.

“Make yourself at home!” The small child spoke enthusiastically, plopping down on the couch, and dragging you beside her.

“Why thank you, Lass.” You smiled, ruffling her hair. Violet’s bright pink hair, similar to Connol’s when he was younger, was long and tattered, and you recalled Felicia’s ranting about how impossible it was for her to try and cut. The little girl apparently wanted to grow it out long, and was dead-set on the idea, despite her constantly getting it knotted and matted with all the running around she does.

“She’s just on her way to bed.” Connol smiled adoringly at his daughter’s beaming face as he locked the door and joined you. “Lil one wouldn’t tuck in before saying hello to you first, though.”

“And Felicia?” You ask.

“Held up at work.” Connol rolled his eyes, you could read the irritation loud and clear although he refused to say anything. “She’d be here if she could.”

“Give her my love when she gets back.” You nod, then turn back to Violet as she calls your name.

“Minny! Do the thing! Do the thing!” She’s yanking at your arm, and you laugh.

“What thing?”

“The thing with the metal!” She waves her hands in the air, making a little ‘oooo’ sound to emphasize her point.

“Oh, you mean this thing?” Beckoning with one of your fingers, a couple spare screws fly off from a nearby shelf and begin swirling around Violet’s head. She screams in delight, immediately beginning to grab at them, trying to catch them as they fly up and around her little head, but every time she does they fly out just out of her grasp.

“First time you did that she didn’t shut up about it for a week.” Connol recollected. “Kept yammering me to do it for her instead. You ever consider going into children’s entertainment, rather than metalworking?”

You snorted at this, finger swirling in a circular motion. “Pretty sure I’d be paid less than I already am, thanks.”

“Fair point.” The man shrugged with a smile.

“You’re turning four soon, aren’t you Violet?” You asked. “Next month if I’m remembering right.”

She hums a ‘yes’ but is still trying to catch the screws. “Then I’ll be almost as old as you, Minny!”

“Oh, I highly doubt that, Lass.” You laugh and make one of the screws gently poke her on the nose, which she seems to find downright delightful. “You make any new friends lately?”

“Not really.” She says, non-committally.

“She spends time with some of the other young ones at Mrs. Ayda’s when Fel’ and I are working,” Connol explains. “But other than that…we hate to say that we aren’t exactly married to the idea of her going out and playing on her own. I know it’s how we were raised, and she needs friends her own age, but…”

“Don’t worry, I get it.” You nod. “Niya has a niece who’s a little older than you, Violet. I can see if she’d be okay with coming over and playing with you a little. Would that be okay?”

“Okay.” The child doesn’t seem to care one way or the other. It’s sweet, to see the innocence, but also tugs at your heart a little.

“Alright, sweetheart. It’s time for bed.” Connol groans as he stands up, and you promptly put the screws away. The young girl begins to shout in protest, but it doesn’t last long before her father convinces her to give you a giant hug goodnight and toddle off to bed. He returns to the living room shortly, greeting you again with a tired smile. “Apologies if we’re taking up too much of your time.”

“Being able to see you guys is always worth it.” You reassure him. “Besides, I still have lots of time for my other check-ins.”

“Lots tonight?” He asks, pouring himself a cup of coffee from a pot. He wordlessly offers you one as well, which you accept.

“Nah, but we have a trader exchange a couple hours before sunrise.” You explain. “I’m running security, making sure no enforcers get too close, you know the jist.”

“Yeah…I really gotta get on doing more rounds.” As he sits down on the couch, he lifts his large round glasses to massage the bridge of his nose. There, sitting across from you holding his cup of coffee, and seeing the way his shoulders sag, you take in just how exhausted this man looks. As you exchange some small talk, discussing some of the regular inner workings of your city, you study him. Bloodshot eyes blend right in with his fiery hair tones, and his normally clean-shaven chin’s scraggly with steadily growing facial hair. The way he tenses his shoulders, and the slight groan whenever he moves his torso, you’re wondering when was the last time Connol had had a night off. Hesitantly, you lean forward, letting your arms prop up against your thighs.

“You doing okay, mate?”

“Me? I’m fine.” He waves you away. “Fatherhood and work keeping me busy is all.”

Your eyes furrow. “You been sleeping lately?” His only response is a low chuckle as he takes a sip of his coffee, and it’s the only response you need.

“Connol-” “I appreciate the concern Min, truly. But rest assured, I get enough lectures from my wife.” His words aren’t harsh, no sense of irritation,, just…resigned. You feel the need to push the issue, but ultimately nod your head in silent understanding.

“Vander’s got a midnight shift tonight ‘till sunrise, but then he’ll be home until the fights tomorrow night.” You consider. “If you drop off the little lass before then, he’ll be happy to watch her. I’ve got work until three, but then I can come home and watch her during the fights. She’ll be fed proper, and we can send her home with some hot meals. You take the day to rest, right?”

He smiles, fatherly. He’s got too many wrinkles on his face for a man just a couple years your elder. “We’re not in the business of taking handouts, Min. You know that.”

“Then what sort of jobs you got lined up? I know you’re one of Benzo’s main tip-offs from the docks, you let us in for, say, 35-55 depending on the shipment and we’ll call it square. Just, y’know, don’t fuck us this time? Don’t think we’ve forgotten about that Noxian guard mishap.”

He hesitates, taking a long sip from his drink while he thinks. But then he puts his mug down and reaches into his back pocket. “I did tell Benzo about the guards. But besides that…how’s a merchant vessel of Freljordian meats sound?”

A small smile graces your lips. “Sounds to me like we’ve got a deal, Pops.”

***

“-I was sailing just the other day,”

The crunch of pavement under your boot lines your words. Around you, the sounds of waves wash up and over the promenade’s shores. The bridge is up, as to discourage your kind from crossing, the lights of Piltover dancing across the way, and just a couple blocks away there’s a group of traders handing off about 30 hexes worth of supplies to Benzo and his coworkers.

“Out beyond Bilgewater Bay,”

Something between an old sailor's song and a prayer you remember from the pubs of your hometown. Although you know the importance of security detail, your mind is across the ocean, picturing a different life of crime out on the open seas. Akin to the tales of your mother’s past. But then, the sound of more footsteps on the pavement catches your attention.

“When, from the depths, she came my way,”

You’re whispering now, ducking in behind a nearby plate of wooden crates as you keep your ears open. The footsteps are getting louder now, approaching you at a slow, thoughtless pace. You hook your hand behind you, grasping the hilt of your knife.

“the Wing-Eared Sunken Lady…”

A familiar magical hum hits you as the person approaches, a metallic thrum that strikes your mind. It’s a frequency you know well, but can’t quite place.

“She swallowed me whole, me skiff and me soul,”

He crosses you, headed straight into the direction of the trade, and you don’t even need to think twice upon seeing the blue of his uniform before plunging your knife into his thigh.

Slowed down and taken by surprise, the Enforcer lets out a welp of pain and reaches for his baton, but you don’t give him the chance to react before you’re kneeing him in the kidney. He topples to the ground, and you wank out your knife, clutching its hilt in your hand as you deliver one more strike to his temple with the pummel. His body relaxes, unconscious.

“So I'm singin' this song in her belly,”

Not a moment passes before you’re using your bandana to apply pressure to the wound. The bleeding stops after a matter of minutes, and you tie the fabric in a tight knot just above the spot, just to be sure.

“And now I must wait 'til I meet my fate,”

You leave him by the entrance of the bridge, trapped with his own cuffs but in plain sight. It’s almost sunlight, the traders will be gone in a matter of minutes and the bridge will lower. He’ll be found within the half-hour.

So you walk away, using a quick swipe of your fingers to sheath your dagger back into place.

“In the Wing-Eared Sunken Lady..."

Taglist (if you want on or off of this please just DM me)

@the-lake-is-calling @conretewings​ @officialjellydoughnut @ladyoakenshield​ @lovesleepybearwriter @pinkrose1422 @pinkheartfleece

[moonlightbae7775]

(Yn tried to hug vi and caught her in an attentive move)

Vi:I’m sorry physical touch isn’t my love language

(Yn winded)what the hell is your love language than physical assault