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Shattered Crowns and Broken Bonds Chapter 4: Through Ash and Smoke Out Now!

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[thearcaneblog]

Shattered Crowns and Broken Bonds Chapter 4: Through Ash and Smoke

“Jinx?” Ekko questioned again, his voice low, almost disbelieving. His eyes flicked over her, scanning every detail—blue hair longer than before, purple eyes as sharp and piercing as ever, tattoos curling down her arm and side like cracks in her skin. But it wasn’t just how she looked. It was how she stood, the way she tilted her head like she was already laughing at some private joke he wasn’t in on. It was Jinx. It had to be.

“Wow, forgotten all about me already. Some leader you turned out to be,” she quipped, her lips twisting into a lopsided smirk. The words were playful, but there was something darker behind them, something heavier.

Ekko’s jaw tightened. Her voice sent a shiver through him—familiar and yet so distant, like a ghost he hadn’t been ready to face. He felt his grip tighten on her arm without realizing it.

“Well?” she drawled, raising an eyebrow. “You gonna let me go, Firefly, or are you planning to keep me all to yourself?”

The teasing lilt in her voice brought him back to the present. His fingers twitched, and he slowly let her go, though he didn’t step back. He stayed close, his body tense, ready to move if she tried anything. “Is it… really you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jinx’s smirk faltered, and her gaze dropped to the ground, her expression unreadable. When she finally spoke, her voice was quieter, heavier. “Yeah. It’s me.”

The words hit him harder than he expected. For a moment, all he could do was stare at her, trying to make sense of what he was feeling. Relief? Anger? Grief? It all tangled together, a mess he couldn’t untangle.

“How—why? Where have you been?” he demanded, the questions spilling out before he could stop them.

Jinx sighed, kicking at the garbage littering the alley. “A lot of places. None of ’em good,” she said vaguely, her tone distant. She looked up at him then, her purple eyes glinting in the dim light. “Why? Miss me?”

Ekko’s fists clenched at his sides. “Don’t,” he said sharply. “Don’t act like this is just another one of your games. Do you have any idea what it’s been like? For all of us? For Vi? For me?”

Jinx’s smirk vanished entirely, and for a split second, she looked almost... vulnerable. But then she shrugged, her carefree mask slipping back into place. “I dunno. You seem to be doing just fine. Got your Firelights, your cool hideout. Guess you didn’t need me after all.”

“Don’t twist this around,” Ekko shot back, his voice rising. “You think it’s been easy? After everything you’ve done? After—” He stopped himself, the words catching in his throat. His mind flashed to the graffiti—the jagged crescent symbols painted on walls after the recent attacks. He thought of the bombs, the chaos, the pain they’d caused. Could that have been her too?

He studied her closely, his heart pounding. “The attacks,” he said slowly, his voice edged with suspicion. “The graffiti. Was that you?”

Jinx’s head snapped up, and something flickered in her eyes—surprise? Guilt? It was gone too quickly for him to be sure. “What attacks?” she asked, her tone light, but her gaze sharp. “Been outta the loop, remember?”

Ekko narrowed his eyes. “Don’t lie to me, Jinx. I’ve seen your handiwork before. The designs, the chaos—it’s all you.”

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence. Glad to see you still think so highly of me.”

“Can you blame me?” Ekko snapped. “You disappear for almost a year, and now you just show up out of nowhere? What am I supposed to think?”

Jinx flinched, her arms dropping to her sides. For the first time, she looked unsure of herself, her bravado cracking just slightly. “I didn’t do it, Ekko,” she said softly. “Whatever you’re talking about—it wasn’t me.”

He wanted to believe her. He really did. But the anger, the betrayal, the memories of the people they’d lost—they all clashed with the part of him that still saw Powder when he looked at her. The part of him that still cared.

“Then why are you here?” he asked, his voice quieter now, but no less sharp. “Why come back now?”

Jinx hesitated, her gaze dropping to the ground. “I don’t know,” she admitted, the words heavy with something he couldn’t quite place. “Maybe I wanted to see if I still had a home here.”

Ekko’s chest tightened, the weight of her words pressing against his ribs. “Zaun isn’t the home you remember,” he said after a long pause.

She nodded slowly, her shoulders sagging. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I figured.”

For a moment, the two of them just stood there, the silence between them thick with everything they couldn’t say. Ekko wanted to reach out, to pull her into a hug, to tell her everything would be okay. But he couldn’t. Not yet.

Finally, he exhaled, stepping back slightly. “If you’re serious about being here,” he said, his tone firm, “then you’re gonna have to prove it.”

Jinx tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. “Prove it?” she repeated, her voice tinged with disbelief.

“Yeah,” Ekko said. “No more games. No more running. You want to come back? Fine. But you’ll have to earn it.”

She stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she nodded. “Okay,” she said quietly. “I’ll try.”

Ekko didn’t say anything else. He just turned and started walking, motioning for her to follow. Jinx hesitated for a moment, then fell into step behind him. Neither of them spoke as they made their way through the winding alleys of Zaun, the tension between them thick and unyielding.

Jinx stopped in her tracks, her eyebrows furrowing. Fear or confusion—it was hard to tell—crossed her face. “Sneak me in?” she echoed, her voice sharp. “Since when did I become a dirty little secret?”

Ekko turned to face her, his expression hard but not unkind. “It’s not like that,” he said firmly. “It’s just—things are different now. Zaun’s on edge. We’ve been investigating the attacks. Whoever’s behind them is leaving... clues. Scraps of metal, graffiti—your kind of graffiti. People are scared, Jinx. And if they see you—” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “It wouldn’t be good for you, is all I’m saying.”

Jinx let out a bitter laugh, her hands twitching at her sides. “Wouldn’t be good for me? What, you think I’m scared of a bunch of wannabe rebels?”

“You should be,” Ekko snapped, his voice louder than he intended. He stepped closer, his brown eyes locking onto hers. “These ‘wannabe rebels’ are the people you used to fight for. The ones who believed in Zaun, who believed in us. And you think they’ll just forgive and forget after everything you’ve done?”

Jinx’s jaw tightened, and her smile faded. For a moment, she looked younger—like the Powder he used to know. “You think I don’t know that?” she shot back, her voice quieter now, tinged with something raw. “You think I don’t hear what they say about me? What you say about me?”

Ekko’s chest tightened, but he didn’t let himself falter. “Then why come back? If you know how bad this could get, why are you here?”

Jinx hesitated, her eyes darting away. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Because I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

The admission hit Ekko harder than he expected. He looked away, swallowing the knot in his throat. “This isn’t like before,” he said after a long pause, his voice softer now. “If you’re serious about being here, about... trying to fix things, then you’re gonna have to earn it. Not just with me—with everyone.”

“Earn it,” Jinx repeated, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She crossed her arms, leaning against the brick wall of the alley. “Right. I’ll just waltz in and say, ‘Hey guys, remember me? The lunatic who blew up half the city? I’m all better now.’ That’ll go over great.”

Ekko sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Jinx, I’m trying to help you. But you’ve got to meet me halfway here. If you want to prove you’re not the person everyone thinks you are, you’ve got to stop acting like her.”

Her eyes snapped back to his, and for a moment, they burned with anger. But it fizzled out almost as quickly as it came, leaving her looking tired and worn. “Fine,” she muttered, pushing off the wall. “Let’s sneak me in. Your rules, Firefly.”

“Stay close, and for the love of Zaun, don’t make a sound,” Ekko whispered as he motioned for Jinx to follow him through the narrow passageway leading into the sanctuary.

Jinx smirked, her voice a hushed tease. “Aw, Firefly, didn’t know you cared so much about my well-being.”

Ekko shot her a sharp glare over his shoulder. “I care about not having to explain to everyone why you’re here and why I didn’t lock you up on sight.”

“Charming,” she replied, miming locking her lips and tossing the key. But her steps softened, her usual swagger tempered by the seriousness in his tone.

They slipped through a side door into the industrial plant’s lower levels. The dim glow of Firelight lamps bathed the walls in green, and the faint hum of voices echoed from somewhere above them. Ekko turned back to her, holding a finger to his lips before gesturing for her to follow his lead.

The first corridor was quiet, save for the faint creak of the floor beneath their feet. Jinx’s eyes darted around, taking in the makeshift structures and salvaged equipment lining the walls. “You’ve really made this place homey,” she whispered.

“Shh,” Ekko hissed, his shoulders tensing.

They rounded a corner, and Ekko froze, pressing a hand to Jinx’s chest to stop her. She raised an eyebrow but said nothing, following his gaze to a pair of Firelight guards stationed near a storage room entrance.

“Think they’d say hi if I waved?” Jinx whispered, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Don’t even think about it,” Ekko muttered. He glanced around, spotting a stack of crates against the wall. He motioned for Jinx to follow him, crouching low as they crept toward the crates.

Jinx crouched behind him, her movements exaggerated as if she were mocking his careful steps. Ekko ignored her, peeking around the edge of the crate to watch the guards.

“Okay,” he whispered. “When I say go, we—”

“Ekko?” a voice called from behind them, startling them both.

Ekko whipped around, his heart leaping into his throat. A Firelight scout stood there, holding a toolbox, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Uh, hey, Raph,” Ekko said quickly, stepping in front of Jinx to block her from view. “What are you doing down here?”

“Fixing the vents,” Raph said, holding up the toolbox. His gaze drifted over Ekko’s shoulder, his eyes narrowing. “Who’s that?”

“No one!” Ekko said a little too quickly. “Just—uh—a new recruit. Shadow training. Super secret. You know how it is.”

Jinx snorted, quickly covering her mouth to stifle the sound.

Raph raised an eyebrow. “A secret recruit? Since when do we do secret recruits?”

“Since... now,” Ekko said, his voice strained. He clapped Raph on the shoulder, steering him toward the corridor. “Listen, you’re doing great work with those vents. Keep it up. I’ll handle this.”

“But—”

“No time for questions!” Ekko said, pushing him along. “Vents don’t fix themselves, right?”

Raph gave him a skeptical look but eventually shrugged and walked off, muttering something about Ekko being “weirder than usual.”

As soon as he was out of earshot, Jinx doubled over, struggling to contain her laughter. “Shadow training?” she gasped. “Really? That’s the best you’ve got?”

Ekko glared at her, his face flushed. “Shut up. It worked, didn’t it?”

“Barely,” she teased, wiping a tear from her eye. “You’re so bad at lying. It’s adorable.”

“Just... follow me,” Ekko grumbled, grabbing her wrist and pulling her along.

They navigated the next few corridors without incident, though Jinx couldn’t resist whispering sarcastic commentary every few minutes. “Oh no, Firefly, a shadow! Should we shadow train it?”

Ekko gritted his teeth but didn’t respond, focusing on the path ahead. As they reached the central staircase, voices echoed from above, and Ekko cursed under his breath.

“Guards,” he muttered. “We’ll have to go around.”

Jinx craned her neck, spotting a series of pipes running along the wall. “Or,” she said, grinning, “we could go up.”

“Absolutely not,” Ekko said, his tone firm.

“Come on,” Jinx urged, already climbing onto a nearby railing. “It’s quicker. And more fun.”

“This isn’t supposed to be fun!” Ekko hissed.

But Jinx was already halfway up, scaling the pipes with ease. She glanced back at him, her grin widening. “You coming, Firefly?”

Ekko groaned, glancing back toward the stairs. The voices were getting louder. “You’re impossible,” he muttered before grabbing onto the pipes and following her up.

The climb was nerve-wracking, especially when one of the pipes creaked under his weight. Jinx, of course, made it look effortless, perching on a narrow ledge like it was a throne.

“See?” she said as he pulled himself up beside her, panting slightly. “Way better than sneaking around like a scared little bug.”

“Next time, we’re doing it my way,” Ekko muttered.

Jinx winked. “Sure thing, boss.”

After a few more narrow escapes and one near-collision with a Firelight carrying a stack of boxes, they finally reached Ekko’s quarters. He shoved the door open, ushering Jinx inside before slamming it shut behind them.

Jinx let out a low whistle, glancing around the room. “Wow, Firefly, this is... cozy. Didn’t peg you for a minimalist.”

Ekko ignored her, leaning against the door and letting out a heavy sigh. “We made it,” he said, more to himself than to her.

“Barely,” Jinx said with a grin, flopping onto the small cot in the corner. “But hey, not bad for your first sneaking mission. You might actually have some potential.”

Ekko glared at her, but there was no real anger behind it. “You’re impossible,” he muttered again.

“And you love me for it,” she shot back, her grin softening just slightly.

Ekko didn’t respond. He just crossed the room, pulling a chair up to the desk and sitting down. “Get comfortable,” he said, glancing at her. “We’re going to talk. And this time, you’re not dodging any questions.”

Jinx’s smile faded, but she nodded, her expression turning serious. “Okay,” she said quietly.

“Where do I even start…?”

“Well…what do you want to know?” Jinx asked.

“I want to know how you're alive.” Ekko’s voice came through sharp.

“Well when a man and a woman-”

“That’s not what I mean and you know that Jinx. Just tell me. I mourned for you. Grieved. Vi-Vi was distraught, out of it for weeks, Caitlyn was so worried about her, Jinx. She didn’t get out of bed for days.”

The words came hurdling at her, each one landing its own punch. She looked off at the wall, refusing to make eye contact with Ekko. “I should have died. The bomb was ready, Vander’s claws gripping me, but then he just let go. In the nick of time too because the timer was dwindling. He let me go and I just thought of the vents. Next thing I know I’m climbing through them.”

Ekko leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped tightly together as if they were the only thing keeping him from flying apart. “Vander’s claws let go? Just like that? Why? Why would he let you go?”

Jinx’s lips twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smile—a grimace, maybe—before her expression flattened again. “Maybe he had a moment of clarity. Maybe he realized what he was doing wasn’t worth it. Or maybe…” She hesitated, her voice dropping lower, more bitter. “Maybe he thought I was going to die anyway.”

Ekko’s jaw tightened. “That’s not—” he started, but Jinx cut him off with a sharp wave of her hand.

“Save it, Firefly,” she said, her voice tinged with sarcasm that barely masked the crack beneath it. “I crawled through the vents like a rat, dragging myself out of the wreckage while everything exploded behind me. And then… then I just kept going. I didn’t think, didn’t look back. Just ran.”

“Ran where?” Ekko pressed, his voice low, though there was a note of something softer creeping into his tone.

“Nowhere,” Jinx said flatly. “Everywhere. Didn’t matter, as long as it wasn’t here.” She gestured vaguely, her hand sweeping over the small room like it encompassed all of Zaun. “I just kept running until I couldn’t anymore.”

“And after that?” Ekko’s gaze bore into her, his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. “What then? You didn’t think to let anyone know you were alive? Not me, not Vi?”

Jinx finally turned to meet his eyes, and the weight of her guilt hit him like a physical blow. “No, Ekko,” she said quietly. “I didn’t.”

“Why?” The question came out sharper than he intended, but he didn’t care. He needed an answer.

“Because I didn’t think you’d want to know,” Jinx snapped, her voice rising, her fists clenching at her sides. “Because I figured you’d all be better off thinking I was dead. Because I thought… I thought if I stayed away, I wouldn’t keep hurting everyone.”

Ekko stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor as he pushed it back. “That’s not your call to make, Jinx!” he shot back, his voice breaking. “You don’t get to decide what we can or can’t handle! You don’t get to just disappear and leave us to pick up the pieces!”

“And what do you think would’ve happened if I came back, huh?” Jinx was on her feet now too, her voice trembling with equal parts anger and anguish. “You think I’d waltz in, and everything would just be fine? Like I didn’t kill people, destroy lives? You think Vi would’ve wanted to see me after what I did?”

“Yes!” Ekko shouted, the word echoing in the small room. “Yes, Jinx, she would’ve wanted to see you! She would’ve wanted to know you were alive, even if it hurt. We all would’ve. You don’t get to act like we wouldn’t have tried to help you.”

Jinx froze, her chest heaving, her eyes darting between his, searching for something she didn’t know how to name. “It’s not that simple,” she whispered finally, her voice cracking.

“It never is,” Ekko replied, his voice softer now, though the tension in his posture hadn’t eased. “But we deserved the chance to try. You deserved it too.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of their words settling over them like a suffocating fog. Jinx looked away again, her fingers twitching at her sides. “You think I didn’t want to come back?” she said finally, her voice so quiet he almost didn’t hear her. “You think I didn’t want to see Vi, to see you? I wanted to. But every time I thought about it, all I could see was the look on her face the last time we spoke. The look on your face the last time we saw each other.”

Ekko’s throat tightened, the memory of their battle flashing through his mind—the hurt, the anger, the betrayal. “That wasn’t just you,” he said, his voice rough. “We all made mistakes, Jinx. But you’re here now. Doesn’t that mean something?”

Jinx let out a shaky breath, her hands falling limp at her sides. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t know if it means anything. I just… I didn’t know where else to go.”

Ekko stared at her, his chest aching with a mix of emotions he couldn’t untangle—anger, grief, hope, love. He stepped closer, his voice steady but not unkind. “Then stay,” he said simply. “Stay, and let’s figure it out. Together.”

Her eyes flicked up to his, wide and uncertain. “You really think there’s anything left to figure out?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I’m willing to try if you are.”

For a long moment, Jinx didn’t move, didn’t speak. Then, slowly, she nodded, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Okay,” she said softly. “I’ll try.”

Ekko exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. “Good. That’s a start.”

They stood there in the quiet, the weight of the past hanging between them but no longer suffocating. It wasn’t forgiveness, not yet. But it was something. A fragile step forward. 

Ekko looked outside the window, the moon high in the sky now. “It’s late.”

Jinx hadn’t realized how tired she felt until the tension she carried melted away.

Ekko and Jinx both glanced at the single bed, and neither could meet each other’s eyes. “You can take the bed. I have a cot in the workroom. It’ll seem less suspicious.” Ekko stood up, and started to walk out. Jinx wanted to call after him, beg him to stay, but the words never made it off her tongue as the sound of the door shut behind him. She looked back at the bed and slowly walked over. Suddenly the door opened again revealing Ekko sanding in the doorframe. “Remember, no one can know you’re here. Not yet at least.” And with that the door closed for good.

Jinx continued to make her way across the room. When she got to the mattress she sat down, feeling how comfortable it was. She laid back letting the exhaustion of the past year, the past day even guide her into a deep dreamless slumber.

The days that followed became routine. Wake up, wait for Ekko to bring food, lounge in his room, wait for him to bring dinner, have some small talk with him (I mean she was stuck in a room, what else could they possibly talk about?), say good night, go to be, repeat the next day.

Jinx didn’t mind routine, it wasn’t her favorite thing, she’d rather just let the wind blow her to her next destination, but she was getting bored. How long had she been here anyway? Four days? ten days? She didn’t think it could be more than twenty, but when the only place she had was one hundred and twenty one square feet everything ran together. She was safe though. Safe and…well not happy, but content…yes she was content. She could put up with this a little while longer.

Ekko came in with her breakfast a little earlier than usual today. Jinx sat expectantly at the small desk as he dropped the tray of breakfast in front of her. He maneuvered into sitting on the edge of the mattress.

Ekko’s words broke through the silence. “Jinx, I think it’s time.”

This intrigued Jinx “Time for what?” She retorted with a mouth full of oatmeal.

He took a deep breath, fixing his resolve as if he had been wrestling with this for a while but finally answered “Time to begin your Firelight training.”

Jinx froze mid-bite, her spoon suspended in the air. She squinted at Ekko, trying to gauge if he was serious or if this was some kind of joke. His expression told her everything she needed to know—Ekko wasn’t joking.

She snorted, setting the spoon down with a loud clink against the bowl. “Firelight training?” she said, leaning back in the chair, arms crossed. “You’re kidding, right?”

Ekko shook his head, his face serious. “Nope. Dead serious.”

“Firefly, you’ve seen me fight,” she said, gesturing dramatically. “What could you possibly have to teach me? How to throw a punch? How to duck? I’m already lightyears ahead of your little band of merry rebels.”

Ekko didn’t rise to her bait. He stayed calm, his gaze steady. “It’s not about that, Jinx. It’s not just about fighting. It’s about earning trust, showing everyone here that you’re not... who they think you are.”

Jinx’s smirk faltered, and she glanced away, suddenly interested in the scratched-up surface of the desk. “And who do they think I am?” she muttered.

Ekko leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “They think you’re dangerous,” he said bluntly. “Unstable. And yeah, you’ve got a lot to prove, but that doesn’t mean you can’t. Training with us, being part of the Firelights—it’s a step forward. It’s a chance to show Zaun that you’re more than the chaos you’ve left behind.”

Jinx flinched, the words landing harder than she’d expected. She covered it up with a shrug, forcing a laugh. “Right, and what if I don’t care what they think?”

Ekko raised an eyebrow. “Then why are you here?”

That shut her up. She didn’t have an answer—not one she was ready to say out loud.

Ekko waited, watching her carefully. When she didn’t respond, he sighed, running a hand over his shaved head. “Look, I’m not asking you to become some perfect version of yourself overnight. I’m asking you to try. You said you’d try, remember?”

Jinx’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she picked up the spoon again, stirring the oatmeal in lazy circles. “Fine,” she said eventually, her voice clipped. “I’ll try your little training thing. But if I don’t like it, I’m out.”

“That’s fair,” Ekko said, a small smile tugging at his lips. He stood, brushing off his pants. “We’ll start after breakfast. Meet me in the training yard.”

Jinx raised an eyebrow. “Training yard? Sounds fancy. Got a private chef and spa down there too?”

Ekko smirked. “You’ll see. Just don’t be late.”

He left the room, the door clicking shut behind him. Jinx stared at the door for a long moment, her fingers drumming against the edge of the desk. “Training,” she muttered under her breath. “This is gonna suck.”

Jinx followed Ekko down a maze of twisting corridors and ladders, her footsteps echoing faintly against the metal walls. When they finally emerged into the Firelight training yard, she stopped short, her eyebrows raising in surprise.

The space was a makeshift arena, cobbled together from scraps of old machinery and salvaged parts. Obstacles made of steel beams and rusted pipes were set up in intricate patterns, and the walls were covered in climbing holds and dangling ropes. Firelights were scattered around, sparring, climbing, and running drills. The air buzzed with energy.

“Well, this is... quaint,” Jinx said, hands on her hips as she surveyed the scene.

“It works,” Ekko said simply. He gestured toward a group of Firelights huddled near a stack of crates. “Wait here. I’ll introduce you.”

Jinx’s eyes narrowed as she watched him walk away. She crossed her arms, feeling the familiar itch of suspicion creep up her spine. The Firelights weren’t exactly her biggest fans, and the idea of standing in front of them like some sort of reformed villain wasn’t sitting well with her.

Ekko returned a moment later, the group of Firelights trailing behind him. Their expressions ranged from cautious curiosity to open distrust and hostility.

“Alright, listen up,” Ekko said, his voice carrying over the noise of the yard. “This is Jinx. She’s here to train with us.”

“Jinx?” one of the Firelights—a wiry teen with spiky green hair—blurted out, his eyes wide. “As in the Jinx? Are you serious?”

“Isn’t she supposed to be dead?” Chimed in a voice near the back.

“She’s not who you think she is,” Ekko said firmly, cutting off any further protests. “She’s here to prove that.”

“Prove what?” another Firelight—a tall girl with braided hair—asked, her tone skeptical. “That she’s not a ticking time bomb waiting to go off?”

Jinx bristled, her fingers twitching at her sides. “I can hear you, you know,” she said, her voice sharp.

“Good,” the girl shot back.

“Enough,” Ekko said, holding up a hand. He turned to Jinx, his expression unreadable. “You wanted to try, right? Then show them.”

“Show them what?” Jinx retorted. “That I can stand here and not blow something up? Wow, what a high bar.”

Ekko stepped closer, lowering his voice so only she could hear. “Show them you’re not just here for yourself. Show them you want this.”

Jinx met his gaze, her purple eyes narrowing. She hated how he could do that—cut through her bravado like it was nothing. “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Good,” Ekko said, stepping back. He turned to the group. “Pair up. Jinx, you’re with me.”

The Firelights exchanged uneasy glances, but no one said anything.

Ekko led Jinx to one of the obstacle courses, explaining the drill as they walked. “We’re running this together. It’s about speed, agility, and coordination. Think you can keep up?”

Jinx smirked, her confidence returning. “Oh, Firefly, you have no idea what you’ve just unleashed.”

Ekko chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright. On my count—three, two, one, go!”

They launched into the course, weaving through narrow gaps, scaling walls, and leaping over obstacles. Jinx moved with her usual chaotic energy, fast and unpredictable, while Ekko’s movements were calculated and precise.

“Not bad,” Ekko called over his shoulder as they reached the halfway point. “But you’re gonna have to do better than that!”

“Oh, you want better?” Jinx retorted, vaulting over a beam and landing in front of him. “Try to keep up, Firefly!”

For a moment, Ekko almost smiled. This wasn’t going to be easy, but maybe—just maybe—it was a start.

The days blurred together for Jinx. Routine had become her reluctant companion. Train, eat, get glared at by the Firelights, and try not to set anything on fire. It wasn’t exactly her style, but she was sticking with it. Barely.

Every now and then, she’d catch a glimpse of progress. A few of the Firelights stopped whispering when she walked by. A handful even nodded at her, though the gestures were curt and stiff. Ekko was patient as ever, though his sharp looks at her whenever she slacked off were a constant reminder that he wasn’t going to let her coast through this.

Still, the tension was there, gnawing at her. She could feel it every time Braids shot her a glare or Marlo muttered something under his breath. And Ekko—Ekko was a whole different story. She could feel his eyes on her sometimes, studying her like a puzzle he couldn’t solve. It made her want to squirm, to crack a joke, to deflect. But she didn’t. Not always, anyway.

One day, after a particularly grueling training session, Jinx sat on the edge of the yard, fiddling with a small piece of machinery. It was something to keep her hands busy, to keep her mind from spiraling.

She glanced up when she heard footsteps approaching. It was Braids, of course, her arms crossed, her expression as sharp as ever.

“What do you want?” Jinx asked, not looking up from the device.

Braids didn’t mince words. “What are you doing here?”

Jinx sighed, her fingers twitching. “Wow. Straight to the point. I like it.”

“I’m serious,” Braids pressed, stepping closer. “You think you can just walk in here and play Firelight? Like you didn’t leave this place in ruins?”

Jinx bristled, her lips twitching into a forced smirk. “What, you want an apology? Some big, heartfelt speech? Sorry, that’s not my thing.”

“You’re not sorry,” Braids said, her voice cutting. “You don’t even care. You’re just here because you’ve got nowhere else to go.”

Jinx’s smirk faltered, and for a moment, she looked like she was about to say something—something real. But then Ekko’s voice cut through the tension.

“Braids. Enough,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Braids shot him a glare but stepped back, muttering something under her breath before walking away.

Jinx stood, brushing off her pants. “You gonna lecture me too, Firefly?”

Ekko sighed, his shoulders tense. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Good,” she said, her voice tight. “I’ve had enough of everyone acting like I’m some kind of... monster.”

Ekko’s eyes softened, but he didn’t say anything. He just stood there, watching her. And for once, Jinx didn’t try to fill the silence.

Later that night, Jinx found herself back in Ekko’s room, staring at the pile of parts on his desk. Without thinking, she started tinkering, her hands moving on autopilot.

By the time Ekko walked in, she’d pieced together a rough Firelight emblem, the edges jagged but recognizable. She didn’t notice him at first, but when she did, she quickly set the emblem down, her cheeks flushing slightly.

“You made that?” Ekko asked, his tone unreadable.

Jinx shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “Don’t get used to it. I was bored.”

Ekko didn’t press. He just gave her a small nod, a ghost of a smile flickering across his face.

Ekko continued to watch her from the doorway for a long moment, the rough Firelight emblem still sitting on the desk where she had been working. It should’ve been a sign of progress, a hint that maybe she was trying. But all he could see were the cracks—the jagged edges of their shared history, the weight of what she’d done, and the scars she’d left behind. His chest tightened, the words he’d been biting back for days bubbling dangerously close to the surface. “You know,” he started, his voice sharper than he intended, “making trinkets doesn’t erase the past, Jinx.” His words sliced through the fragile quiet, and Jinx’s hands stilled. She didn’t look at him, but he saw her jaw tighten, her fingers twitching. “Here we go,” she muttered under her breath, standing up and shoving the chair back with more force than necessary. “What’s this? The part where you remind me how terrible I am? How I ruined everything? Go on, Firefly. Let’s get it over with.” 

Ekko stepped further into the room, his gaze locked on hers. “You think this is some kind of joke? You show up here, act like none of it matters, and I’m just supposed to what? Pretend I don’t remember what you left behind?” Ekko stood there, fists clenched at his sides. “You left me, Jinx,” his voice was raw, trembling with years of unspoken pain. “You left Piltover. You left me in the mess you made.”

Jinx stared at him, her chest rising and falling as her hands flexed at her sides, ready to lash out or pull away. Her face was hardened, but there was a flicker of something beneath the surface—something she didn’t want to show.

“I had to,” she said, the words coming out sharp, but the emotion caught behind them was heavier than she intended.

“Had to?” Ekko's laugh was bitter, cutting through the tension. “You chose to. You chose to shut everything out. Shut me out.”

Jinx opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat, tangled by the weight of everything that had happened between them. Her heart raced, but her mind screamed for her to leave, to run again.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Ekko’s voice was barely above a whisper now, but there was an edge to it that sliced right through her. “You can’t just walk away like nothing matters. You can’t just leave me behind.”

Jinx’s eyes softened for a fraction of a second, but then she stood taller, eyes hardening again, as if to shield herself. “You don’t know anything about me,” she spat, though her voice wavered, betraying the vulnerability she was trying to hide.

In a sudden, impulsive move, Ekko stepped forward, closing the space between them in a heartbeat. His hand reached for her, not in anger but in desperation, his fingers wrapping around her shoulders as if he could pull her closer, forcing her to understand.

​​Jinx's breath caught in her throat just before his lips met hers. It wasn’t a kiss of passion, not at first. It was hungry—imperfect and full of frustration. Her breath hitched as he kissed her, trying to convey all the things he couldn’t say with words. A knot of pain unraveled in her chest. For a moment, she froze, torn between instinct and desire. But then, something inside her broke, and she kissed him back. Hard. Hungry. Her hands shot up to his chest, clutching at him like he was the only thing keeping her from drowning.

His hands slid to her nape, tangling in her hair as he deepened the kiss, closing the gap between them until there was no space left. Their breaths mingled, erratic and uneven, the tension between them reaching a boiling point. Every touch, every movement, was an attempt to bridge the chasm that had grown between them over the years.

Jinx pulled back, gasping for air, her forehead pressing against his as her eyes searched his face. “I hate you,” she whispered, her voice trembling, though her hands still clung to him. “I hate that you make me feel like this.”

His lips brushed against hers again, softer this time, as if he were trying to mend something fragile. “I hate you too,” he murmured, though the words lacked venom. His voice cracked, betraying the truth: he didn’t hate her. He couldn’t. Not after everything.

Ekko pulled back. Lips bruised, face flushed breathing in deeper he stared into her amaranth eyes. For a long beat, they stood there, neither daring to move. Then, Jinx reached for him, her hand coming up to his face, fingers brushing over the roughness of his jaw. There was something different now—something soft. She tugged him back to her, her lips finding his again, but this time it was different. This one still had the hunger behind it, but there was something more. Desire, intimacy, yearning. Slow and deliberate. 

Ekko kissed her back with the same intensity, but now there was no rush, no force. It was as though they were trying to rebuild something long lost, piece by piece. The desperation was still there, but it was tempered with the weight of their shared history—the silence between their breaths saying more than any words could. And it built and the desire grew. 

Suddenly Jinx’s back hit the wall, cold and hard. The force of the impact momentarily taking her breath away. Ekko’s hands finding her waist lightly gripping the contours of her hips, pulling her closer. The air between them crackled, each touch pushing them further into the moment. Her hands moved up to the hem of his shirt, fingers brushing against his skin as she slowly lifted the fabric, savoring the feel of him. 

Their breath was heavy, quick, but neither of them pulled away. In one fluid motion, the shirt was gone, tossed aside, and Ekko’s hands returned to her waist, unbuckling her belt with a swift movement. She shimmied out of her pants, kicking them away, and before long, they were both stripped of the barriers between them. He moved his kisses to Jinx’s cheek then jawline then neck before turning her around. She let out a soft, needy sigh, her hands tangled in his hair, guiding him closer as he nipped at her skin. His hands slid to the back of her shirt, fumbling for a moment before pulling it free and letting it fall to the floor.

He turned her in his arms, kissing her again, deeper this time, before gently guiding her toward the bed in the corner.

They collapsed onto the bed, limbs tangling as their hands explored one another, their movements blurring the line where one ended and the other began. Nothing mattered. Not the world. Only the heat between them.

[thearcaneblog]

Tomorrow…

[januscadet]

Happy new year, a bit late! Here is the first drawing, and a new tarot card- Jinx, as the Two of Swords.

I truly did try something with this one, and it was so fun! No idea who's going to be next- I guess we'll see...

[thearcaneblog]

My Reddit reader is loving Chapter 4 btw. Had the absolute BEST reaction to what I have so far. Super excited to hopefully share it with you Friday.

[thearcaneblog]

You guys!

Chapter 4 is nearly complete. Huge huge huge chapter plot wise.

I’m waiting on my Reddit person to read what I have so far and comment. As always, my offer to share the google doc to anyone interested in reading and giving comments is open.

[thearcaneblog]

Wow, I’ve gotten 90 hits, 4 bookmarks, and 2 Kudos on my fanfiction on A03. I’m super excited by this. I’ve said it before, but I’m not a writer so even the slightest recognition of this work is so meaningful and appreciated.

So to everyone who has been reading this story here or on Ao3 thank you! I’m so excited to continue this story. Chapter 4 is coming along nicely, so it will hopefully be ready for you next Friday.

[thearcaneblog]

Oh my God I’m so angry. I just read the absolute WORT take on the physical appearances of the “bad” characters in Arcane. They complained that the “bad” characters were always depicted in worse lighting and as ugly, whereas the “good” characters were depicted as more flattering.

Like, oh my God. Tell me you don’t understand story analysis without telling me you don’t understand story analysis.

This is a common trope in ANY storytelling medium. It’s called “the mark of greatness.” It is a physical disability or mark on the body that sets a character apart. Oedipus’ feet are deformed because his parents tried to kill him. Harry’s lightning bolt scar, Luke Skywalker’s hand, etc., are all pivotal to furthering the plot and are important for fully nuanced characters and storytelling.

Let’s use Sevika since we know the most about her. She, like most of the characters in the show, is morally complex. When she feels like Vander’s choices lead to inaction and continued oppression she joins Silco. In the process two VERY important things happen to her character because one thing happens. And that is the loss of her arm. 1) by losing her arm she is baptized into Silco’s service. Losing something important, like let’s say an ARM, cause the person to change which is why it’s a baptism. 2) She literally sacrificed her arm to become Silco’s arm. Everything she does, she does in the name of Silco. This is HER mark of greatness. The physical absence of an appendage symbolizes, and I’m going to be redundant here, her loyalty to Silco and how she is the brawn of his operation.

Now. Let’s talk about Silco. Silco is missing/has limited use of his left eye. It’s a mark of greatness again, but IT IS SO MUCH MORE SINCE IT’S AN EYE. EYES ARE INCREDIBLY IMPORTANT IN STORYTELLING! The fact that it’s only one eye means his vision/focus is singular. He cares about his operation, about having Zaun become its own city, but NOTHING is more important to him than Jinx. Almost every time we see him in a scene, Jinx is brought up and often defended by him. Jinx is his damaged eye. She’s the only one he has a (literal) blind spot for.

The Chem Barons are more complex since we don’t know them like other characters. But speaking of them as a group, and still along the lines of “the mark of greatness,” their appearance is absolutely A+ storytelling. Their appearances signify their power, fear, and corruption. It’s all about unchecked power and technological and chemical experimentation. They warn of the consequences of aligning one’s humanity with destructive power.

Amara is a little different. While she is not deformed per se, she is older with wrinkles and has a forehead adornment. Again, like the Chem Barons, this reflects wisdom since it is on her forehead and power. Power as a trade union member, and the foreshadowing of her possession by the Black Rose. EVERYTHING IS DONE ON PURPOSE!

Don't come at me with some surface-level bad take like "I'm tired of 'bad guys' looking ugly." It is SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT!

[otterlycurly]

When your genocidal warmongering colonialist imperialistic buff butch milf wolf mom wants you to join your home country’s military industrial complex but you’re too busy being artdeco steampunk fenty beauty mogul diplomat goddess with a buff latino-adjacent boytoy who has a situationship with a sad eastern European 90’s heroin-chic machine messiah Czech hunter twink boyfriend

[thearcaneblog]

You think you can just copy the synopsis of Arcane off like IMDB like that? You’re not slick.

[thatguyfrom-redacted]

Oh my god I get it now. Powder trying to play the hero, to be like Vi, when the rest wanted to protect her. Isha doing the same, wanting to be just like Jinx. Running out infront of the crowd. Both using the crystals not knowing how powerful they are. Losing Vander in the process. Losing a sister. Losing everyone and everything. Losing themselves. Killing themselves.

Vi watched it happen all over again. Watched as history repeated itself and the was nothing she could do about it.

And Jinx. Ohohoho Jinx. Jinx had to watch everything she did wrong play out in front of her. To someone she loved. All because that person loved her back, wanted to be just like her. Oh my fucking god. I’m an idiot.

The vinyls were there for a reason, the show was just some kind of sick record player stuck on repeat.

[thearcaneblog]

OH MY GOD I’VE NEVER CONSIDERED THE RECORDS! My entire meta about Arcane is the cyclical nature of violence and relationships. BUT THE RECORDS! Oh the records! It was in front of us THE WHOLE TIME!

[thearcaneblog]

Shattered Crowns and Broken Bonds chapter 3 out now!

I genuinely don’t know if I’ve ever written this much creatively before. I’m not a writer. I just really like arcane. The moral ambiguity, the internal conflict, the arcs, the characters, and so I want to celebrate them with my (mediocre) attempt at continuing the story.

Anywho, hope you like it.

[thearcaneblog]

Chattered Crowns and Broken Bonds Ch 3: Flickers In The Chaos

The frequency of the attacks increased, spreading like wildfire. Markets, homes, local watering holes—both in Piltover and Zaun. The strain of it all pressed down on Vi, but it wasn’t just the bombs. It was everything. How could she not stop it? How could she not see it coming? Vi was certain they were connected but didn’t know how or why.

Vi had convinced herself to go back to Zaun. A break from everything. After all, most of their efforts had been centered on Piltover. But after the last attack—preventable, easily preventable—Vi couldn’t shake the memory.

She saw them, in her mind, tattered and grimy, a mix of Zaunite workwear and makeshift armor. And she saw the cloaked figure with blue eyes as they elbowed their way through the crowd. They carried crude weapons—pipes, bats, and the occasional knife. Their faces were twisted in desperation and rage, their eyes darting about like cornered animals.

“Stand down!” Caitlyn commanded, her voice cutting through the growing murmur of the crowd. Her rifle was unshouldered in one smooth motion, its sleek barrel gleaming even in the dim, dust-filled light.

The leader of the group, a wiry man with a crude scar running across his cheek, stepped forward. His hands were raised in mock surrender, though his grip on a rusted wrench remained firm. “We ain’t here for you, Sheriff,” he spat, his voice gravelly. “We’re here for answers. For justice.”

“Justice?” Vi stepped forward, her voice sharp. Her gauntlets hummed faintly, the tension in her stance unmistakable. “This isn’t how you get it. You’re just adding to the chaos.”

The man sneered. “Chaos is all we’ve got! You Piltover lot think you’re better than us—think you can just wipe us out whenever it suits you!” His voice rose with each word, and the crowd behind him responded with angry shouts of agreement.

“This isn’t about Piltover versus Zaun,” Caitlyn interjected, trying to de-escalate. “We’re here to find out who did this and hold them accountable. But you’re making it harder for everyone.”

“Accountable?!” A woman from the group shouted, her voice shrill with grief. “Like you held your precious Council accountable for all the times they bled us dry? For all the times they let us rot while you thrived?”

Vi’s jaw tightened, her fists clenching. “We’re not the Council. We’re trying to help.”

“Help?” The man stepped closer, his eyes blazing. “You want to help? Tell your Council to come down here and see the mess they’ve made. Tell them to feel the weight of their ‘progress.’”

The standoff stretched taut, the tension crackling like static in the air. Caitlyn’s mind raced, trying to find a way to defuse the situation without escalating it further. But before she could speak, a deafening boom cascaded from all around them in the marketplace, sending a shockwave through the crowd.

Dust and debris rained down as screams erupted. The ground trembled, and the group of would-be rioters scattered, their anger momentarily replaced by fear. Vi and Caitlyn exchanged a quick glance.

Caitlyn gestured toward the source of the explosion. “We need to move—now.”

Vi nodded, already stepping into a run. “Stay close,” she called over her shoulder, her voice carrying an edge of urgency. As they surged forward, weaving through the chaos of the marketplace, Vi’s thoughts spiraled back to the cloaked figure. It had to be them. Why didn’t I stop them?

Her breath came faster, heart pounding in her chest. She ran harder, faster, even with her gauntlets weighing heavily at her sides. The alleys of Zaun stretched ahead—tight, winding paths with neon lights flickering above them. The figure was fast, and they knew the backways better than Vi ever could. She couldn’t let them slip through her grasp again. They ran. They ran pushing people out of the way, on rooftops, in the back alleys. They ran until they came to a dead end, Vi watching the edge of a cloak disappear over the rooftops.

Vi yelled out punching the wall in front of them, cracking it from top to bottom, sending shock waves through the narrow alley in front of them.

“We had them!” Grimaced Vi. “They were right there and they got away. Our only lead in days.”

Caitlyn put a hand on Vi’s shoulder, “We’ll get them. This is the closest we’ve been.” 

“Well it’s not close enough!” Vi shrugged Caitlyn’s hand off, taking a step forward.”

“Vi! I know you’re stressed about this-”

“Of course I am! It’s our job to protect people, and I don’t see a whole lot of protection happening right now. I see mobs demanding justice, I see criminals getting away.” Vi’s voice wavered between rage and something darker—desperation.

“Listen, let’s go back. We’ll regroup at home, come up with a new plan.” Caitlyn’s words were calm but clearly tinged with frustration.

Vi scoffed, sneering as she crossed her arms. “You don’t get it. This isn’t some neat, tidy plan, Caitlyn. This is life—real people are dying out here, and I’m not just gonna sit around waiting for some perfect strategy while they’re in pieces.”

Caitlyn’s voice faltered. “What—what do you mean?”

Vi looked Caitlyn dead in the eye, her words like poison. “Typical. Typical princess retreating back to her castle when it gets tough instead of getting her hands a little dirty.” The words landed like a slap.

Caitlyn’s eyes flashed with disbelief, the weight of Vi’s words landing like a slap. “What the hell, Vi?'" She took a step back, pain overtaking the anger in her voice. “Is that really how you see me? You think I’m just hiding behind my badge?"

Vi’s chest heaved with anger. She didn’t want to say it. Didn’t want to make it worse. But it came out anyway. “Well, at least I’m not running headfirst into danger, fists raised, trying to punch my way out of my problems!” Caitlyn’s words were like a knife.

The silence hung thick between them for a moment, neither one willing to look the other in the eye. Vi’s heart pounded in her chest, but underneath the anger, a twinge of guilt gnawed at her. Caitlyn, too, felt the sting of Vi’s accusations.

Vi’s breath slowed, but the damage was done. She turned away, rubbing the back of her neck, her face hard. Caitlyn stood still, staring after her, unsure of what to do next.

The silence hung thick between them for a moment, neither one willing to look the other in the eye. Vi’s breath slowed, but underneath the anger, a twinge of guilt gnawed at her. Caitlyn, too, felt the sting of Vi’s accusations.

Vi’s breath caught, and she turned away, rubbing the back of her neck, her face hard. Caitlyn stood still, staring after her, her own heart hammering with the weight of the fight.

“Well, at least I’m doing something,” Vi spat under her breath.

Caitlyn’s dam broke, her voice shaking with the exhaustion of it all. “Yes, something stupid! Do you want to get yourself killed?”

“That’s irrelevant! You sit there twiddling your thumbs while the world burns down!”

“Well, maybe we should split our efforts!” Caitlyn shot back, her words bitter.

Vi’s breath caught in her throat. “Maybe we should.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!” And Caitlyn ran off, her boots echoing down the alley. Vi stood alone, her anger simmering beneath the surface, watching Caitlyn disappear into the distance, the weight of her words still ringing in her ears.

The neon lights of Zaun flickered like the last breath of a dying star. Vi stood on her balcony, the city’s chaos below her reflecting the turmoil inside. She’d been here for weeks now—drinking, fighting, letting the city’s filth get into her blood. The alcohol burned like acid down her throat, but it didn’t stop the ache.

It didn’t make the images of Caitlyn’s face, the last fight, the last words they exchanged, go away.

“Damn it,” Vi muttered, slamming her glass down on the balcony’s railing. She didn’t have time for this. She was wasting time. Ain’t nobody gonna fix this for you, Vi.

Without another thought, she was out the door and into the thick of Zaun’s streets. A low rumble in her chest. Anger was better than regret. It was something she could hold onto, use.

A clamor rose from an alley up ahead—some kind of fight, or maybe a robbery. Didn’t matter. It was all the same.

She rounded the corner, cracking her knuckles as she stepped into the chaos. Two Zaunites were tussling, shouting curses, swinging pipes at each other. One caught a wild punch, sending him stumbling toward Vi. Without missing a beat, she grabbed him by the collar, lifting him off his feet.

“Wrong fight, buddy,” she growled, throwing him into a dumpster with a sickening thud.

A crowd gathered, muttering. Vi didn’t care. She cracked her neck and scanned the area. Someone’s gonna give me a real fight tonight, she thought, itching for something harder, something more. She needed to feel something, anything.

It was like the city was made for this—the constant churn of violence, the thrill of adrenaline. She could feel the pulse of it in her veins, the same rush she felt when she was in the pit. Every fight a release. Every punch a little closer to forgetting everything. Forgetting Caitlyn. Forgetting Jinx.

Another figure stepped into the alley—a familiar face. A sharp voice cut through her thoughts: “Vi, stop.”

It was Caitlyn. Vi didn’t need to hear the rest. She didn’t need to hear her concern, her pleading. She stepped forward, swinging a fist into a guy’s ribs, shoving him aside.

“Still trying to play hero?” Vi growled, her eyes narrowing.

“Vi!” Caitlyn stepped closer, but there was something different in her voice, something more desperate this time.

Vi shook her head, snapping back. “I don’t need your help, Cait. Get the hell out of here.”

But Caitlyn didn’t back down, her voice cutting through the noise of the street: “Vi, I know you’re angry, but you can’t keep throwing yourself into this. You need to—”

“I don’t need anything from you!” Vi’s fists tightened. Her body was shaking with rage, with something darker she couldn’t quite name. This wasn’t a fight she wanted to have, not with Caitlyn, but she couldn’t stop herself.

Caitlyn’s gaze softened, and for a brief moment, the walls Vi had built crumbled. But only for a second.

"You’re gonna break yourself like this." Caitlyn’s voice dropped low, a mix of concern and something else—something deeper. “You’re not just fighting them, Vi. You’re fighting yourself.”

Vi stiffened. Caitlyn’s words weren’t the ones she wanted to hear right now. She wasn’t looking for advice, wasn’t looking to be fixed. She was looking for something to hit. Something to punch. Something to take her mind off all the shit that had been eating at her from the inside.

“What the hell does that mean, Caitlyn?” Vi’s voice was rough, like she was fighting not to snap. Her fists clenched even harder.

Caitlyn hesitated, but there was no stopping her now. “I’ve been thinking... about all the attacks. About everything that's been happening. The pattern, the timing. It’s too... organized to be random, Vi. It’s not just the riots. It’s something bigger.”

Vi cocked her head, her eyes narrowing. She didn’t care for Caitlyn’s theory—it wasn’t action, it wasn’t something she could hit. But Caitlyn wasn’t finished.

“You’ve seen it, too, haven’t you? The bombings, the chaos, it all fits together. It’s a setup. Someone's pulling strings, and they’re using the riots to mask something else. It’s bigger than we thought, Vi.”

Vi shook her head, biting back the urge to shout. “You really think that’s it? That someone’s pulling the strings? That’s your big theory? Some shadowy mastermind? What the hell does that even mean for us? What do we do about it?”

Caitlyn stepped closer, her eyes searching Vi’s, like she was trying to reach through all that rage and pain. “I don’t know yet. But it means we can stop it. We have to stop it, or they’re going to destroy everything.”

Vi stood there, fists still clenched, her body radiating tension. The alcohol in her bloodstream buzzed like static, making her feel restless, raw.

She stared at Caitlyn, the words she’d been holding in finally coming to the surface.

“I don’t care about some shadowy conspiracy, Caitlyn. I just want to stop the bombs. I want to stop the people getting hurt. I want to—” She cut herself off, not sure if she was trying to convince Caitlyn or herself.

Caitlyn wasn’t giving up. “Vi, we have to work together. This isn’t just you anymore. This is bigger than both of us. I think-I think we need to talk.”

Vi met her gaze for a long moment, the silence thick and heavy. For the first time in weeks, she wasn’t sure where the path would lead, but she wasn’t ready to walk it alone.

“Fine,” Vi muttered, breaking the silence. “We do it your way. But this better not be some wild goose chase.”

Caitlyn’s relief was palpable, but she didn’t smile, didn’t let up on her seriousness. “We’re stopping something that’s coming for both of us.”

Vi didn’t respond, but her posture softened, just a little. It was a fragile truce—one forged from anger, frustration, and a little bit of hope. The kind of hope she couldn’t afford to ignore.

Caitlyn led the way down the alley, her voice now steady and sure. “Let’s get to the bar. We need to talk. This..this is important.”

Vi followed, her eyes narrowed and her fists still tense. For the first time in a long while, there was a flicker of something else in her chest, buried beneath the anger. Maybe Caitlyn was right. But she wasn’t going to let herself believe it—not yet. Not until they had answers.

As they walked down the streets to The Last Drop, the neon lights above them flickered and guided them. The music started getting louder and that’s how Vi knew they were approaching.

The two walked in silence, words unsaid between them, and then they were in the bar. Vi sat down and ordered herself a strong drink. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to forget this night yet, but wanted to leave her options open. She’d hear Caitlyn out at least.

An uncomfortable silence built between them until Caitlyn opened up first. “I’ve missed you, you know.”

Vi stiffened up, eyes still firmly in front of her refusing to make eye contact. She wasn’t expecting that and if she looked at Caitlyn in the eyes, well it would be over for her. “I guess I’ve missed you too.” She rolled her shoulders and stretched her neck, physically trying to remove how awkward she felt. Truthfully, she had missed Cait. The way she smirked when she was called Cupcake. The way her hair smelled fresh. She missed teasing her about every little thing. But this was a fundamental difference.

Caitlyn chimed in, clearing her throat after an awkward pause. “Well, perhaps we should compare notes on what we’ve discovered?” 

Obviously Vi was not ready to talk about her feelings, but Caitlyn needed to talk to her. She’d been lonely without her. Her home, cold and empty without Vi’s warmth, her teasing. And it was probably time to tell her. Her investigation was distinctly pointing in two possible directions. It was time to tell her about her Jinx theory. About everything. The vents, the graffiti she’d found at other attacks in Piltover after Vi left, the piece of metal that looked like a chomper.

Vi slowly shook her head before bringing her drink up, throwing her head back and downing the remainder of it. Vi decided she probably wanted to forget tonight. “Hey! Another one!” Shouted Vi to the barman who obliged. Vi took her new drink to her lips and began sipping. “Well,” Vi wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, “go ahead I guess.’

Caitlyn softly chuckled, always to the point. But then the ghost of a smile on her face fell as she realized what she was about to say to Vi. She was almost, no, she was positive Vi wasn’t going to like this. “Vi, I... I don’t know how to say this,” Caitlyn begins, her voice cracking slightly. She looks down, shaking her head. “I’ve been trying to make sense of all this, but there are things—things that don’t add up, and...” She pauses, struggling to get the words out. “I discovered some interesting clues. The hexgates have vents in them. All of them.” Vi just stared, sipping at her drink, so Caitlyn continued. “And while we’ve been investigating the attacks in Piltover…someone left graffiti.”

“Are you going to get to the point Caitlyn? This sounds-”

“I think Jinx might still be alive.” Caitlyn finally blurted out, the dam that had been holding this information back burst and it terrified Caitlyn. “What?” She looks up sharply, her face hardening immediately. “You’re kidding, right?” “I’m not. I... I know it sounds insane, but there are things—pieces I’ve been finding. Things that don’t make sense. I’ve been—” She’s stammered a little, but she can’t hold it back anymore. “I’ve been tracking these attacks, and they—they have the same signature as her old ones. I’m not saying it’s definitely her, but I can’t just ignore it. Not to mention the vents in the hexgates. It’s a small possibility, and again, I’m not saying it’s her, but there's a chance.” “So you’re saying that for weeks, you’ve suspected that and haven’t told me? And now that chaos is reigning around us, you suspect Jinx?!” Vi’s voice rises in disbelief and anger, the stress of weeks of emotional turmoil spilling over. “What the hell is wrong with you, Caitlyn?” “No! I mean, I don’t know what to believe anymore! All the pieces are there, but—there’s just something off about them. There’s something...” She hesitates, not quite able to explain it, her mind racing with all the conflicting evidence. She’s clearly torn, but the truth is—she’s worried about Vi’s state of mind. “Jinx is dead, Caitlyn!” Vi’s voice breaks as she digs her nails into her palms, blood slowly bubbling to the surface, fighting the raw emotion that rises to the surface. “She’s gone! I couldn’t save her, and now you want me to what… hope? Don’t do this. Dangling this false hope in front of me? You’re pompous, but I never once took you to be cruel.” “Vi, I’m not trying to hurt you, I’m just trying to—”

“You’re not trying to hurt me?” Vi spits the words out, the anger and sorrow mixing into a volatile force. “I’ve spent every goddamn day thinking about what happened to her. I lost her, and it was my fault. Now you're saying she might be alive, and you expect me to just... hope? You think I haven’t lived with this pain enough?” “I don’t know, Vi! But we need to know the truth, no matter how much it hurts.”

“At what cost! I’ve lost everyone! They’re gone, and now you just casually bring up that my sister- who I saw die right in front of me- might be alive?” Vi’s chest felt tight, like someone had been stepping on it as her breathing became shallow. Fear, anger, regret, guilt all twisting and knotting in every crevice of her body. “You never change do you? I’m done with this. I’m done.” Vi stood abruptly, her chair scraping harshly against the floor as she threw her unfinished drink at the wall where it shattered, liquid rolling down to the floor. Vi’s breath catches as the glass shatters, and for a split second, her mind flashes back to that moment with Jinx. The weight of the guilt almost overwhelms her. She stares at the wreckage of her drink, her throat tight, before storming out of the bar, leaving Caitlyn standing there, helpless. 

Caitlyn sits back down at the bar, ordering herself a strong drink as well and begins nursing it. She wanted to forget this night.

Vi didn’t go far after storming out of the bar. She wandered the streets of Zaun, fists clenched, picking fights, grabbing any bottle of alcohol she could get her hands on. How many had she had? One? Two? Six? She couldn’t remember. However, the buzz of alcohol in her blood was fading now, leaving her raw and hollow. Every step echoed in her head, her earlier words to Caitlyn replaying like a broken record.

" I never once took you to be cruel."

The memory of Caitlyn’s face stung more than any punch she’d taken tonight. She’d seen Cait’s eyes harden, her shoulders tense—like she was trying to hold herself together while Vi tore her apart. Caitlyn wasn’t cruel. She was the farthest thing from it. Vi knew that. She’d always known that. But she couldn’t stop herself from lashing out, from letting her anger and guilt spill over onto the one person who’d stood by her through everything.

She ended up leaning against the rusted rail of a bridge overlooking Zaun’s industrial depths. Smoke billowed from chimneys, mixing with the neon glow of signs that flickered in and out of life. The city was a mess, a fractured, chaotic maze of survival. She’d always seen herself as part of it—another broken piece in the rubble. But Caitlyn? Caitlyn didn’t belong in the dirt. Cait didn’t deserve to be dragged down by her.

Vi rubbed her bruised knuckles absently, staring into the distance.

She pushed off the railing, her breath visible in the cold night air. She needed to go back. She needed to fix this—not just for Caitlyn, but for herself. Because the thought of losing her, of letting her walk away, was something she couldn’t bear.

Vi walked back into The Last Drop hours after the argument, her footsteps dragging, knuckles bruised, a pounding headache, but she didn’t know if it was from the cheap shots or the cheaper booze. The tension between her and Caitlyn still lingered in the air, but she’s exhausted—emotionally and physically. She pushes the door open, the soft jingle of the bell above catching her ear. It’s late. Most of the patrons are gone but there at the bar was the unmistakable dark navy blue hair of Caitlyn, still at the bar, hunched over on her elbows nursing a drink, three or four empty cups surrounding her. Her bloodshot eyes flick toward Vi, but she doesn’t say anything.

Vi stands still for a moment. The weight of the silence between them is suffocating. She hates it. She wants to walk out, to just get away again—but she doesn’t. She can’t. 

"I shouldn’t have said that," Vi mutters, barely above a whisper. Her voice is hoarse. She swallows hard, hands clenched at her sides. “About you.”

Caitlyn didn’t respond immediately. She tilted her glass, watching the liquid swirl before taking a slow sip. Caitlyn snorted quietly, shaking her head. “Which part? The part where you called me cruel? Or the part where you made me feel like I don’t matter?”

Vi looked down at her hands, guilt tightening her chest. “All of it,” she admitted. “I didn’t mean it, Cait. I was just... angry. At everything. And I took it out on you.”

“You think that makes it better?” Caitlyn finally turned to face her, and her eyes burned with something that cut Vi to the bone. “Do you know how many times I’ve replayed what you said? How many times I’ve wondered if... if maybe you’re right? That I’m just sitting here, planning while people die?”

Vi’s jaw tightened. “You’re not like that. I didn’t mean it, Cait. I swear. You’re the one keeping things together while I... while I fall apart.” “You think you’re the only one who’s hurting, Vi?” Her tone is soft, slurred from the alcohol, but there’s an edge there- a knife sliding between ribs. Her hair is disheveled, her cheeks blotchy. “Vi, I’ve been barely holding on. Every night, I think about the people we’ve lost. About what I could’ve done differently. And then there’s you. You’re out there, getting hurt, getting angry, and I can’t do a damn thing to stop it. I’m not running away. I’m just trying to keep us from losing everything. I’m trying to be smart. That’s why I plan.”

Vi shakes her head. "I know. I just..." She trails off, unsure of what to say. The guilt, the anger, the grief—they’re all tangled up inside her. She wants to yell, but she’s too tired. Too raw.

Caitlyn’s gaze softens. “We’re in this together, Vi. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but we are. I’m not going anywhere."

Vi looks down, her fists slowly unclenching. “I just… I want to fix this. I want to stop it.”

"We will," Caitlyn says. "But we have to do it together. No more running off. No more breaking apart. We’ll figure this out. Together."

“Together.” Agreed Vi as Caitlyn’s communicator began beeping. She looked at the screen and sighed.

“It’s the council again. They want a report.” Caitlyn began to stand up pushing herself away from the bar but began to topple over.

“Woah there,” called out Vi catching Caitlyn before she collapsed. “We’ll give them a report, but you’re in no condition tonight to do that.” Retorted Vi.

“What do you mean? I’m fine. See, watch.” Caitlyn broke free of Vi’s arms, straightened up, took a step and immediately began to collapse.

“No,” Pushed Vi. “You’re not.” Caitlyn Just stared into the clear blue eyes of Vi before pouting. Vi laughed, a deep laugh. A laugh she hadn’t heard in weeks. One that she missed. “Come on Cupcake. We’ll go back to my place and first thing in the morning we’ll head to the council. Give me your communicator. I’ll let them know you’re dealing with a lead in Zaun.” 

Caitlyn put the communicator in Vi’s palm as she made her way back down to the stool she had been sitting on. The blue glow of the screen illuminated Vi’s face. Caitlyn just watched as Vi’s face twitched while she was punching the message. The shadows contouring some of Caitlyn’s favorite features. Her lips, her cute nose, how expressive her eyes are even when she isn’t saying anything. She has to touch her again. Feel her skin underneath her fingertips, so she reaches up, hesitantly at first, fingertips lightly brushing the Vi tattoo under her eye and then lets her hand rest on Vi’s cheek. Vi keeps punching in the message, but lightly leans into Caitlyn’s hand, but then she’s done with her message. “Ok, sent. Councilwoman Verel will see us tomorrow.” Caitlyn pulls her right hand back cradling it in front of her heart with her left, trying to remember the feel, the heat of Vi’s skin underneath. “Let’s get out of here.” Caitlyn just nods slowly standing up as Vi takes her arm and wraps it around her neck to offer support.

The two saunter out of the bar, Caitlyn leaning on Vi, and Vi leaning in on Caitlyn. The don’t talk as they leave. They don’t have to. They may have been partial apologies, but the wounds from the words they spoke together were already beginning to heal with each step they took on the street back to Vi’s apartment.

Approximately half an hour later they were stumbling in through Vi’s front door. “Sorry,” Caitlyn mumbled, they’d have been back faster if she wasn’t this drunk but Vi didn’t mind. Vi’s apartment wasn’t fancy. In fact it was pretty bare. A tiny kitchen and a bed that took up the majority of the space. Papers and papers littered the floor and were pinned up to the walls, undoubtedly Vi’s investigation, but Caitlyn’s eyes were too blurry to read anything.

Vi brought her over to the much too large bed for the tiny apartment. Vi turned their bodies to help Caitlyn sit on the bed and Caitlyn immediately fell back onto the mattress into what had to be an uncomfortable contortion of Caitlyn’s body. Vi just chuckled. “I never took you for a sloppy drunk,” she teased. 

“I’m perfectly fine, I’ll have you know,” came the muffled voice of Caitlyn.

“Sure. That’s why you’re collapsed on the bed and not standing up.” 

“Well…you’re drunk too. You were drunk when you came back to the bar.”

“Yeah, but I can actually hide it.” Caitlyn just groaned into the mattress and then made some unintelligible sounds. “What was that?” Questioned Vi.

Caitlyn managed to pick her head up to turn it and blew away the strands of hair in her mouth and face. “I said, keep me company. Please?”

Vi stood there for a moment, her gaze flicking between Caitlyn’s face and the empty space beside her on the bed. Caitlyn’s request lingers in the air, soft but urgent. There’s a vulnerability in her eyes that’s impossible to ignore, and Vi feels a weight settle deep in her chest—a heaviness she’s been carrying ever since their argument.

For a long moment, neither of them moves. The silence stretches, but it’s different now. Not the tense silence of earlier, but something softer, something aching. Vi swallows hard, biting back the words she doesn’t know how to say.

"Okay," she finally mutters, the word barely louder than a breath, and she moves toward Caitlyn, her feet dragging like lead. She sits down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under her weight. Caitlyn doesn’t look up at first, but then she shifts slightly, glancing over at Vi with a soft, almost hesitant smile.

Vi hesitates for just a second longer before leaning forward, her hand finding Caitlyn’s. Her fingers graze over the back of Caitlyn’s hand, her touch tentative, almost as if she’s waiting for Caitlyn to pull away. But Caitlyn doesn’t. Instead, she turns her hand over, her palm open, her fingers curling around Vi’s as if they’ve done this a thousand times before.

“I’m sorry,” Vi says, her voice rougher now, the words tumbling out before she can stop them. "I never meant it—what I said about you twiddling your thumbs. I don’t... I don’t want to lose you." Her breath catches, and her throat tightens. The guilt, the grief—it all comes rushing back, a flood she can't hold back anymore.

Caitlyn looks at her then, her eyes wide, the weight of the moment sinking in. She lifts her free hand to touch Vi’s cheek, then her fingers brush against the tattoo on her shoulder—light, tender, like a silent apology of her own. Vi closes her eyes at the touch, her chest tightening, something fragile and raw building in her gut.

“I’m not going anywhere, Vi,” Caitlyn whispers, her voice barely above a breath. “I just... I just need you to stay with me. Please.”

Vi nods, the simple act of it a promise she didn’t know she needed to make. She leans closer, until her forehead is resting gently against Caitlyn’s. She can feel Caitlyn’s warm breath against her skin, and the simple act of being close, of being in this moment, feels like a release.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere either,” Vi says, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m the dirt under your nails, remember?”

For a moment, they stay like that, forehead to forehead, both of them trying to breathe through the tension of everything they’ve been through. But slowly, gently, Caitlyn shifts, her fingers moving to the back of Vi’s neck, pulling her down with a quiet urgency. Their lips meet—softly at first, hesitant, like they’re both afraid of breaking something that’s already fragile. But then the kiss deepens, the heat and desperation of it pushing them both to the edge of everything they’ve been holding in. Fingers gripping each other’s hair, trailing every piece of exposed skin.

When they pull away, breathless and flushed, Caitlyn doesn’t let go of Vi. Instead, she pulls her down with her, until they’re lying side by side, Caitlyn’s body pressed against Vi’s, her head resting against her chest. Vi wraps an arm around Caitlyn’s waist, holding her close as if she could protect her from everything—everything outside this room, everything they’ve been through.

Vi feels the slow, steady rhythm of Caitlyn’s breathing, and for the first time in what feels like forever, her own heart begins to slow. The world outside doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing matters but this—the feel of Caitlyn’s body against hers, the warmth, the quiet comfort of having someone she can trust completely.

"Stay," Caitlyn murmurs again, her voice soft but firm, as if it’s the one thing she needs to say.

Vi tightens her hold on Caitlyn, burying her face in her hair. “Always,” she replies, her voice thick with emotion.

The words hang in the air between them, a promise that doesn’t need to be said again. Slowly, they both drift into sleep, tangled up in each other, the weight of the world outside forgotten for just a while.

In that moment, they find something they’ve both been searching for—peace, connection, and a place to heal together.

The morning came much too quickly for either of them. Caitlyn was always the early riser between the two of them. So when the light began peaking through the window of Vi apartment she groaned. “Who turned on the light?” Rasped Caitlyn.

Vi stirred beside her, drawing her closer into her arms as she murmured, “That’s the sun, Cupcake.”

“Well it’s dreadful. Too bright.” 

Vi just snickered, “Too much to drink last night?”

“I may never drink again,” affirmed Caitlyn.

“Well that’s a promise I can’t keep.” Retorted Vi. The two laid there silently listening to the rhythmic breathing from each other. Caitlyn felt Vi’s steady heartbeat on her back. Finally Caitlyn turned over, blinking and squinting at the too bright sun as she did so until she faced Vi. Vi’s eyes remained closed but she was clearly awake.

“Goodmorning.” Whispered Caitlyn.

“Goodmorning.” Vi responded, eyes opening. 

It was like they were back at Caitlyn’s house, back into the routine of things. It felt comfortable, reassuring.

“My head’s a little fuzzy. Remind me, don’t we need to be somewhere?” Prompted Caitlyn.

“Mmmhh yeah. We’re meeting with the Verel this morning. Giving her a progress report.” Chimed in Vi voice croaking from the deep sleep she had just been woken from. She didn’t want to, but she sat up. They did need to get ready. It wouldn’t look appropriate for the Sheriff of Piltover to show up in a creased and dirty uniform.

The playful teasing softened as Caitlyn stretched her arms over her head and gave an exaggerated groan. "I don’t know how you do it,” she muttered, still half in a daze. “How are you not dead right now? You were just as drunk as me, and now you're... you’re basically fine.”

Vi rolled her shoulders, letting the tension ease out of her neck. “I’m just built different, Cupcake.” She winked, clearly enjoying the banter. “Besides, I’ve had worse mornings, you know?”

Caitlyn frowned, her fingers still massaging her temples in an attempt to relieve the pounding headache that hadn’t quite eased. "I think I deserve a medal just for making it out of bed after last night." Her voice was teasing, but her eyes still carried the weight of the emotions they’d both been carrying through the night—the unspoken apology, the kiss, the promise.

Vi didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she grabbed her jacket off the back of a chair and started pulling it on. Her mind was still partly lingering on the night before—on the rawness of the moments they’d shared in the apartment. 

"Come on, Cupcake," Vi said, her voice lighter now, snapping her out of the moment of thought. "You don’t get to act like you’re the only one who’s been destroyed. I’m in far worse shape than you."

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow but gave Vi a playful smile. “That’s true. I do recall you stumbling out of that bar like you were on your last legs. And down the street. And up the stairs. You sure you’re not gonna die on me today?” She reached out to grab Vi’s arm, her touch still slightly unsteady but firm.

Vi stopped, her hand resting on Caitlyn’s for a brief moment. Their eyes met for just a beat too long—just enough for the unspoken history between them to seep back into the quiet space.

"I'm not going anywhere," Vi said softly, as if to herself. She squeezed Caitlyn’s hand before gently pulling away. "But if you really want to save me from dying, you’d get your ass out of bed and help me get ready. We’ve got that meeting in an hour."

Caitlyn rolled her eyes, but there was something warm in her expression now, the humor still lingering in her tone. “Fine. But only because we have to meet with the Verel. I’m not doing it for you.”

Vi grinned at that, a familiar spark lighting in her eyes. "Of course, Cupcake. Anything for the job."

They both stood up, Caitlyn slightly wobbly at first, but she regained her balance quickly enough, shaking out her limbs as if she could will away the hangover. Vi moved to the small kitchen area, grabbing a glass of water and handing it over to Caitlyn, who accepted it gratefully.

“I really hope we’re not running into anyone with more than half a brain today,” Caitlyn muttered, taking a long sip of the water. “Because I don’t think I can fake a decent conversation right now. My brain’s still running at about 50 percent capacity.”

Vi smirked, her eyes scanning the clutter in the apartment. “Well, you can’t always rely on your charms, can you?”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” Caitlyn gave Vi a playfully irritated look but couldn’t hide her smile. She took another sip of water, then turned back to the bed. “I’m going to need more time to wake up, Vi. You’re on your own for the first round of the Verel meeting.”

Vi raised an eyebrow as she pulled a shirt on, her tone laced with mock innocence. “You’re not planning on faking sick on me, are you?”

Caitlyn rolled her eyes. “Don’t tempt me.”

Vi chuckled, amused, and tossed Caitlyn a clean shirt she had left out for her. “You’ll manage. Trust me.”

Caitlyn slowly pulled herself to her feet, clutching the shirt in her hand. She hesitated for a moment, watching Vi get ready—her movements so practiced and calm, like she had done this a thousand times. Caitlyn, on the other hand, still felt like she was adjusting to this new, quieter dynamic between them. It had only been a few hours since they were at the bar, but it felt like they had crossed some invisible line, one that made the silence between them easier to live with.

Before Vi could notice, Caitlyn was right behind her. Without warning, she wrapped her arms around Vi from behind, her cheek resting gently against her shoulder. Vi froze for a moment, then relaxed into the hug, letting her hand rest over Caitlyn’s as she gently squeezed her wrist.

“Thanks,” Caitlyn murmured, her voice soft. “For last night. For... everything.”

Vi didn’t answer at first. Instead, she turned in Caitlyn’s arms, her face serious for a fleeting second, before the familiar half-smirk returned. "You know, you’re really lucky I like you, Kiramman."

Caitlyn chuckled softly, a flicker of warmth in her eyes. “And here I thought I was lucky you tolerated me.”

Vi gave her a playful shove, and Caitlyn stumbled backward, but the grin never left her face.

“Come on,” Vi said, rubbing the back of her neck. “Let’s get through this day. Verel won’t wait for us to finish our hangover recovery.”

Caitlyn rolled her eyes but followed Vi to the door. She was already preparing herself for the day ahead—the nerves about facing the Verel, the responsibilities that would inevitably pile up, and the heavy weight of knowing that their fragile peace wouldn’t last forever.

But for now, she was grateful for this quiet moment between them. The kind of peace they both needed.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go save the city, Detective.” Caitlyn grinned, and for a moment, it felt like everything might just be okay.

Vi shot her a look, her tone teasing but warm. “Only if you’re lucky, Kiramman.”

The two made their way out to the street and to the nearest hexdraulic conveyor. The climb felt like it would take forever to complete. After a quarter-mile walk, a switch to another hexdraulic conveyor, some stairs, and another quarter-mile walk to get to the government building, they finally arrived at the office of Verel.

It was a simple door. Wood frame and iron latches. While it matched the elegant attire Lyra Verel was accustomed to wearing, it didn’t nearly meet her commanding presence. Verel had a way of getting people to listen—naturally, effortlessly. Perhaps that was why she had been entrusted with the role of Councilor of Public Relations and Diplomacy. Though she was relatively new to the council, it was well known that she could make or break anyone with a carefully worded speech. She knew how to make people feel heard, understood.

Caitlyn knocked on the door. She was the sheriff, after all.

“Enter.” A steady, warm voice greeted them from inside the room. Caitlyn turned the iron handle, twisted it, and pushed the door open.

The room was pristine—an effortless blend of elegance and power. The walls, a soft shade of cream, were adorned with minimalist art. Natural light streamed through the large windows, but it was the view that caught Caitlyn’s attention for a moment. From the window, Piltover sprawled beneath them—orderly, polished, and vibrant. It was the kind of view a woman like Lyra Verel would appreciate: far-reaching, expansive, and calculated.

Lyra Verel sat behind a polished oak desk, her form draped in a sleek charcoal dress with gold accents that shimmered as she moved. The outfit was deliberately understated, but in its simplicity, it conveyed confidence and control. Lyra herself seemed to exude a calm, commanding grace. She was poised—almost unnervingly so. The space around her felt carefully curated, not too grand, but just enough to make anyone who entered take notice.

“Ah, Caitlyn, Violet. Thank you for coming this morning. I understand you’ve been chasing down a lead,” Lyra said, her voice smooth and warm—inviting. She smiled as she spoke, and the sincerity in her expression was almost disarming.

“Yes, Councilwoman. Vi and I thought separating our efforts might help cover more ground,” Caitlyn replied, her voice steady despite the dull throb in her skull.

Vi remained still by Caitlyn’s side, her gaze never straying far from Lyra. The subtle warmth in Lyra’s voice made her feel like she was being welcomed, but there was a quiet intensity beneath it—an intensity that didn’t go unnoticed.

Lyra’s eyes flicked between Caitlyn and Vi, pausing just a moment longer on Vi. There was nothing overt about the way she looked at them, just an observation—an understanding. Vi couldn’t put her finger on it, but she felt like Lyra was the kind of person who always knew more than she let on.

“Well, I trust you’ve made some progress?” Lyra continued, her voice still as smooth as silk. She rose from her chair in one fluid motion, the soft rustle of her dress the only sound as she moved toward them. “The people of Piltover rely on their protectors to be thorough, especially when the safety of our city is at stake.”

Lyra’s gaze shifted slightly to Caitlyn, but there was no pressure in her look—no judgement. Only the sense that Lyra was absorbing everything, waiting for Caitlyn to offer up what she knew. It was as though the woman had an innate ability to put others at ease, making them want to share.

“We’ve made some connections,” Caitlyn began, rubbing her temple. “After cross-referencing notes, it seems that all the attacks trace back to a single individual. We don’t have much more than a thin trail, but we’re working on it.”

Vi stepped forward, cutting into the momentary silence. “There’s someone behind the scenes, directing these acts. We need more information to move forward.”

Lyra’s eyes flicked to Vi once more, her expression unreadable, but there was something about the way she studied Vi’s face that felt almost…reassuring. Lyra wasn’t questioning them; she was listening. Really listening.

“I see,” Lyra replied, her voice soft but carrying weight. She nodded thoughtfully, almost to herself. “The people of Piltover deserve answers, certainly. And we must ensure their safety at all costs.” She paused, then added, her tone shifting to something more personal: “But remember, Violet, Caitlyn—sometimes, the truth is more elusive than we realize. There’s always more beneath the surface.”

The words hung in the air, not ominous, but strangely comforting. There was no threat, only a quiet understanding, as though Lyra was reminding them of the complexity of their work—a complexity she seemed all too familiar with.

Caitlyn blinked, pulling herself out of the fog of her headache. “Of course,” she said. “We’re just trying to piece it all together.”

Lyra’s gaze softened again, and she placed her hands together on the desk, fingers interlaced. The gesture was almost maternal, as if she were patiently waiting for them to get to the next part of the conversation.

“I trust you both,” Lyra said, her voice gentle, but steady. “And I believe in your commitment to Piltover. You’ll find the answers you’re looking for. You always do.”

Vi was still, but Caitlyn could see the faintest glimmer of relief in her eyes. Lyra’s calm composure, her belief in them, felt like an anchor in the storm of their investigation. The words felt genuine—there was no manipulation here. Just support.

“You’re doing good work,” Lyra added, her smile widening just slightly. “I’m sure the people of Piltover appreciate it.”

But then, just as Caitlyn felt herself begin to relax, Lyra's voice shifted, ever so subtly, like a breeze before a storm. She paused, her eyes locking onto Caitlyn's with a faintly knowing gleam.

"So, Caitlyn," Lyra began, her voice warm but laced with an uncanny precision. "How are you feeling today? You seem… a little weary. It must be difficult to juggle so many responsibilities." She gave a small, sympathetic smile, as though understanding the burden Caitlyn carried. "We can hardly expect a sharp mind when you’ve spent the night running after ghosts."

The words, though casually phrased, hung in the air like an unseen weight. There was no accusation in her tone, no harshness. But the way she said it—so effortlessly, so calmly—it made Caitlyn’s heart skip a beat. She swallowed hard, feeling the blood drain from her face. It wasn’t just the hangover. There was something about Lyra’s tone, her observation, that made her feel exposed.

Caitlyn quickly masked her reaction, clearing her throat. “We’re making progress, Councilwoman,” she replied, her voice steady despite the unease starting to bubble beneath her skin. “We just wanted to make sure you’re aware of our findings, and that we’re doing everything we can to ensure the safety of Piltover.”

Lyra’s lips curled into something more genuine, as though she appreciated the effort, but Caitlyn didn’t miss the sharpness in her eyes. It was almost as if Verel was watching them too closely. Studying them. Judging them.

The silence hung in the air for a moment, thick and suffocating, before Lyra gestured to the chairs across from her desk.

“Please, sit. We can discuss this further. Perhaps over tea?”

Vi hesitated for a moment, her gaze flicking briefly to Caitlyn. But after a moment, she nodded, accepting the invitation. Caitlyn followed, still slightly on edge, but the sense of calm that Lyra projected was beginning to settle into her chest. 

As they sat down, Caitlyn glanced at Lyra again. The soft gleam of the green stone still tugged at her thoughts, but she quickly shook her head.

No, it was probably nothing. Just a glint from the sun.

Lyra’s smile remained, warm and reassuring. But Caitlyn couldn’t shake the feeling that it was a little too perfect. Every word Lyra spoke, every gesture, every glance—it was all so carefully constructed.

They spoke about the graffiti, how both Zaun and Piltover were being targeted. The scraps of metal left at the scene. But not Jinx. Caitlyn was worried how Vi might react if Caitlyn brought this up in an official meeting. Before long two hours had passed. The tea had helped Caitlyn’s headache, and Vi was openly talking now about the difficulties faced by the people of Zaun.

“Well I will most definitely pass along this information Violet. It is important that all our citizens are being taken care of.” Did Vi actually swell? It was a little cliche, but Caitlyn thought it was cute.

“Ladies, I’m afraid we must end this lovely talk. I have another meeting to attend.” Lyra stood up, hands clasped in front of her torso. Caitlyn and Vi followed suit. They thanked the councilwoman for her hospitality and left the office.

“Well, that wasn’t too bad.” Decried Vi.

Caitlyn was unsure. Lyra reminded her too much of her own mother—commanding, regal, and always several steps ahead. It wasn’t just the way Lyra spoke; it was how her words lingered, how they made Caitlyn question if she’d already given away too much. Caitlyn jared herself back into the moment to answer Vi, “No, it wasn’t bad at all. It seemed like she was really listening.”

“Yeah. It did.” Agreed Vi. The two walked a pace in silence reflecting on the meeting, until Vi spoke up again. Vi stretched her arms above her head as they exited the council building, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the street. “Well, that wasn’t a total waste,” she muttered, glancing at Caitlyn.

Caitlyn rubbed her temple. The meeting had helped, but she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in the back of her mind—the familiar tension that came with being just one step behind. She glanced at Vi, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“There’s something bigger at play here,” Caitlyn said quietly, her gaze drifting to the graffiti scrawled on a nearby wall. A crescent moon, jagged and incomplete, caught her eye. “I just don’t know what.”

Vi followed her gaze, frowning. “Yeah, well, whoever’s behind this, they’re playing dirty. And I don’t like being in the dark.”

Caitlyn sighed, stepping closer to the symbol. Her fingers brushed against the edge of it, and a strange unease settled in her chest. “This isn’t random. It’s deliberate.”

The scene lingers for a moment, the weight of their uncertainty hanging in the air.

Far below, the same crescent moon symbol burned like a brand against the darkened walls of Zaun. Ekko’s pulse thundered in his ears as he pushed himself harder, faster, weaving through the alleys like a shadow. The figure ahead of him was close—closer than they’d been in weeks.

He wouldn’t lose them this time.

Ekko’s breath came fast, his pulse roaring in his ears. The figure ahead—a blur of shadows, hooded and swift—darted through the alleyways, just out of his grasp. But this time, Ekko was determined. He wasn’t going to let them slip away again.

Not again.

The figure glanced over their shoulder, but Ekko was closing in, faster now. He was quicker, more focused, pushing himself harder, weaving through the crumbling streets and rusted obstacles. He could see them. Almost there.

The figure dashed into a narrow gap between two buildings, and Ekko followed, leaping over a pile of debris and cornering them.

In one swift motion, he grabbed the figure, spinning them around and slamming them into the wall. The hood fell back.

The shock hit him like a physical blow.

There, staring up at him with wide, wild eyes—the unmistakable gleam of purple staring into his.

Purple.

Ekko’s breath caught in his throat. His fingers tightened around their wrist, still holding them in place, but his mind was racing. He stared down at the face beneath the hood—the sharp curve of the jaw, the high cheekbones, the wild disarray of their hair. It was all so familiar.

But then, those eyes.

Purple.

Everything in Ekko’s chest seized.

No.

He blinked, trying to push away the disbelief clawing at him. But there was no denying it. Those eyes. The ones that haunted his every thought.

The world seemed to drop away, leaving only him and her—frozen in this moment of impossible reality.

The words stumbled out, hoarse and disbelieving.

“Jinx?” The name caught in Ekko’s throat, heavy and unfamiliar after so long. He barely recognized her—wild and defiant as always, but with something fractured beneath the surface. His grip tightened, though his chest ached with the weight of everything unsaid.

Her lips twisted into a smirk, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You found me,” she said, her voice light but trembling slightly at the edges. “Congratulations, Boy Savior.”

[thearcaneblog]

Shattered Crowns and Borken Bonds Chapter 3 drops tomorrow!

This one’s for all my CaitVi shippers, for all my angst enjoyers, for my introspective fans.

On another note, since I’ve got someone to give me some preliminary notes, these chapters will be uploaded to A03. There will be a small difference between the chapters I post here and on A03 but nothing that changes the plot. A03 will simply be more refined, and chapter 2 on A03 will actually end with how chapter 3 begins on here. But hopefully that will be the only change.

I hope you all will enjoy chapter 3 tomorrow. AKA my sour patch kid chapter!

[thearcaneblog]

Holy crap guys. I think I'm done with chapter 3 now, thanks to the fanfiction fairy. It is definitely longer than the first two chapters, but there's so much at stake. I would like someone to read it and give me their opinions. I actually don't write fanfiction. I get ideas, but they're like single moments and this story is the first time I've ever visualized an arc. I just want some feedback on this chapter since it is so much denser than the rest. If anyone would be willing to read a copy, please message me, and I can try to send you a PDF or something.

[thearcaneblog]

Quick update, someone on Reddit agreed to read for me, but I’ve always been under the impression that the more eyes on something the better. They are just giving general comments about the story, but if there’s anyone else, especially a writer that could help with the technical stuff so if anyone still wants to read it and provide technical feedback that would be appreciated. If you’re interested you can like this post, reblog, or send a message. Either way I’ll send you a google doc link where you can leave comments.

[ravenhathaway1]

Timebomb Cannon Compliant, Flash Season 5 Fic Request

Basically four or five years down the line from the finale, after everyone’s had time to grieve and make up (I’m willing/forcing it to happen). Yes even Cait and Jinx. I feel like once they’ve both had space to grow and grieve they would ultimately understand each other (being basically the same person and all). Ekko and Jinx’s daughter comes from the future (because she’s a genius, just like her parents. and honestly, her aunts too) to meet them because one or both of them died (probably Jinx), even though she doesn’t tell them that’s why. She meets younger versions of her parents and aunts (who raised her if both Ekko and Jinx died) and tells them who she is and that her time travel device (some upgraded modified version of the Z Drive) gets damaged. They then have to find/basically create the parts needed to fix it (because she’s from the future), and chaos ensues. It could be a mixture of intense and light hearted. I’m sure someone could come up with an antagonist who needs to be stopped. Anyway, they figure out why she’s come back and are trying to find a way to change the future, but also spend as much time with her as possible, just in case (especially since all of them know how painful it is to lose their parents, or never even really know them depending on how old she was when they died). Basically the entire plot of season 5 of Flash. Bonus points if she’s named after Vi because both Ekko and Jinx love her, obviously ( I just think it would get the cutest reaction out of them all when she introduces herself. especially Vi. we all know how sentimental she is).

But as always, I can’t write. So once again if you write something similar or find a similar fic or know of someone you think could write this please please please 🙏🙏 tag me. I’m so serious please tag me.

[thearcaneblog]

Oh this could be SOOOO good!

[kidovna]

heartbreak

[howtotrainyourpotato]

sobbing

[thearcaneblog]

You know what, now my fanfiction is going to be 10x sadder. Great job!

[blahaj-blazt]

18 and 23 by the way

[thearcaneblog]

Two elite fighters and their go to move when fighting each other is just bitch slap.