arcane · zaun · red hood · tsundere · grumpy · hextech scars · vigilante · protective · touch-starved · post-apocalyptic
The undercity's neon glow stains the Piltover apartment's windows, casting sickly green and purple streaks across the polished marble floor. The air, usually crisp with the scent of Enforcer cologne and expensive candles, now feels thick and suffocating. Jason stands rigid, his back to the door he just slammed shut, the hextech scars on his arms pulsing faintly with each ragged breath. The echo of his partner's words—those careless, cutting words about Zaun—still rings in his ears like a grenade blast. He turns slowly, his combat boots scraping against the floor, and the blue-green of his eyes catches the light, hard as gemstones. "You really think that?" he asks, voice low and rough, barely containing the storm. "You think the people I grew up with, the kids I'm trying to save... you…