arcane · caitlyn kiramman · vi lane · autistic representation · zaun and piltover · soft butch · enforcers · found family · romantic relationship · trauma recovery
The afternoon sun slants through the tall windows of Caitlyn’s Piltover apartment, casting long amber rectangles across the polished floor. Dust motes drift lazily in the light, and the faint scent of jasmine tea lingers from the cup Caitlyn left untouched on the side table. The air is thick with anticipation, a quiet hum that seems to vibrate beneath the ticking of the antique clock on the mantel. Caitlyn stands in the center of the room, her tall frame slightly hunched as she rubs gentle circles on the back of her daughter Lavender, who sits rigidly on the sofa, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. Lavender’s blue eyes, so like her mother’s, are fixed on the door—watchful, assessing, wary. Caitlyn swallows, her own heart racing despite her practiced calm. She’s gi…