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[lifefragments]

Incurable

Pairing: Viktor x Reader Genre: Angst, Fluff, Bittersweet, Emotional Conflict Setting: Post-Season 1, Viktor’s lab, dealing with his illness and obsession with progress

The air in the lab was suffocatingly still, the faint hum of machinery filling the silence like a distant echo. You stood in the doorway, watching Viktor hunch over his workbench, his shoulders tense, his back slightly curved, his focus entirely consumed by whatever project held his attention. His hands moved with precision, but you could see the tremor in his fingers—small, but noticeable. It had grown worse over the past few weeks, just like the bouts of coughing that wracked his body when he thought no one was listening.

You bit your lip, your heart aching at the sight of him, so driven by his need to make progress, so consumed by his own desperation. It wasn’t just about Hextech anymore—it was about him, about his health, about the inevitability that seemed to loom over every quiet moment. Viktor’s illness was spreading through him like a slow poison, and no matter how many times you tried to pull him away from his work, he always returned, even more determined than before.

He was running from something, and you could feel it. It was in the way he worked longer hours, in the way he avoided your eyes when you talked about the future. As if he wasn’t sure he’d be in it.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward, the sound of your footsteps quiet against the stone floor. “Viktor?” you called out softly, hoping to pull him from his thoughts, to remind him that you were still here, waiting for him to let you in.

He didn’t look up. His voice, strained and hoarse, answered you without the usual warmth. “I’m busy,” he said, his tone clipped, but you could hear the exhaustion underneath it.

“I know,” you said, stopping just behind him, your hand reaching out to touch his shoulder, the fabric of his coat cool beneath your fingertips. “But you’ve been at this for hours. You need to rest.”

Viktor flinched at your touch, as if the idea of stepping away from his work physically pained him. He shook his head, pulling slightly away from your hand. “I don’t have time to rest,” he muttered, his eyes still locked on the blueprints in front of him, his voice full of frustration. “There’s too much at stake. I can’t afford to slow down.”

You swallowed hard, fighting the tears that threatened to well up in your eyes. You knew how important his work was to him. You knew how much he had sacrificed—his time, his health, even parts of himself—for the pursuit of progress. But what he didn’t seem to realize was that, in trying to save himself, he was losing everything else. Including you.

“Viktor,” you said softly, stepping closer again, your voice trembling with the weight of what you were about to say. “You’re killing yourself.”

He froze at your words, his hands stilling over the papers on the table. For a long moment, he didn’t move, didn’t speak. The only sound was the soft ticking of the clock on the wall, a reminder of time slipping away, second by second.

Finally, Viktor turned to face you, and your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him. He looked exhausted—dark circles under his eyes, his skin pale and gaunt, his lips pressed into a tight line. But it was his eyes that hurt the most—those beautiful golden eyes that had once been so full of fire, now dimmed with the weight of everything he carried.

“I don’t have a choice,” he said quietly, his voice cracking with the emotion he tried so hard to keep hidden. “This is all I have. If I don’t find a way… if I don’t keep going… then what’s the point?”

Your heart shattered at his words, the raw vulnerability in his voice cutting through you like a knife. Viktor had always been driven, always been relentless in his pursuit of a better world, but now… now it felt like he was chasing something that didn’t exist. Like he was trying to outrun his own mortality, even though it was catching up to him faster than he could keep up.

“Viktor,” you whispered, stepping closer until you were right in front of him, your hands gently cupping his face, forcing him to look at you. His skin was cold beneath your touch, and the sharp lines of his cheekbones reminded you of how much weight he had lost, how his body was slowly betraying him. “You’re more than this. You’re more than your inventions, more than Hextech. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone—not to Piltover, not to Zaun. Not even to yourself.”

His eyes flickered with something—guilt, maybe, or regret—but he shook his head, his voice barely more than a whisper. “It’s too late for that.”

“No,” you said firmly, your hands tightening their hold on him, refusing to let him retreat back into that dark place. “It’s not. You’re still here. I’m still here. We still have time. But you have to stop before you push yourself too far.”

Viktor’s gaze wavered, his eyes searching yours, and for a moment, you saw the cracks in his resolve—the fear that lingered beneath the surface, the uncertainty he tried so hard to bury. “I’m scared,” he finally admitted, his voice breaking as he spoke the words that had been haunting him for so long. “I don’t know how much longer I have. I don’t know if I’ll ever finish what I started.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall, not when Viktor was opening up to you like this, not when he was finally letting you in. “I’m scared too,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “But I don’t care about your inventions. I don’t care about Hextech. I care about you. I need you, Viktor. Not your mind, not your genius. Just you.”

Viktor’s breath hitched, his eyes glistening as he stared at you, as if he couldn’t believe you were still standing there, still holding onto him despite everything. Slowly, tentatively, he reached up, his hand trembling as he brushed a stray tear from your cheek, his touch so gentle it almost broke you.

“I don’t know if I can be enough,” he said softly, his voice full of doubt, of self-loathing.

“You’re already enough,” you whispered back, leaning into his touch, your forehead resting against his. “You’ve always been enough.”

For a long moment, neither of you moved, the quiet of the lab wrapping around you like a cocoon, shielding you from the world outside. Viktor’s hand slowly dropped from your cheek, and you slid your arms around him, pulling him into a gentle embrace. His body was thin and frail in your arms, but he melted into you, burying his face in your shoulder, his breath shaky and uneven.

It wasn’t perfect. It was messy, full of fear and uncertainty, but for the first time in what felt like forever, Viktor let himself lean on you, let himself be vulnerable. And in that moment, as you held him, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you could help him heal—not just his body, but his heart too.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice soft but firm, your words a quiet promise. “We’ll figure this out."

Viktor didn’t respond right away, but you felt the slightest nod against your shoulder, the faintest tightening of his arms around you.

[lifefragments]

THANK YOUUU <33

THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE IN THE ONE-SHOTS I WROTE I LOVE YOU ALL AND I AM SO SO GRATEFUL

[lifefragments]

Chasing a Mirage

Pairing: Viktor x Reader Genre: Angst, Fluff, Longing, Bittersweet Romance Setting: Piltover, Post-Season 1, Viktor’s lab and your shared memories of what once was.

The rain tapped softly against the window of Viktor’s lab, a rhythmic, almost melancholic sound that mirrored the ache in your chest. You stood in the corner of the room, watching as Viktor worked tirelessly, his fingers moving with precision over his latest project. He barely looked up, his focus so intensely consumed by his inventions that it was as if you weren’t even there.

This had become routine—the silence, the distance. Viktor’s ambition had always driven him, but lately, it had felt like it was driving a wedge between you. The man who once found time for quiet moments, stolen kisses, and soft conversations now seemed unreachable, lost in his endless pursuit of progress. And yet, despite the growing chasm, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave.

Because no matter how far he drifted, you loved him. You always had. Even when it felt like loving him meant chasing something you could never quite catch.

You sighed softly, the sound almost drowned out by the hum of machinery. “Viktor,” you called out, your voice gentle but firm, cutting through the quiet like a whisper in the dark.

He didn’t answer right away, his head still bent over his work. For a moment, you thought he might not respond at all, but then he spoke, his voice strained and tired. “Yes?”

“I’ve been standing here for almost an hour,” you said, trying to keep the frustration from your tone but failing. “You didn’t even notice.”

Viktor’s hands stilled, his brow furrowing as he let out a soft sigh. He finally looked up at you, his golden eyes dull with exhaustion. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, the apology sounding hollow, like it was automatic. His gaze flickered back to his work, as if the weight of your presence was a distraction he didn’t have time for.

The distance between you had been growing for months, ever since Viktor had begun his experiments with Hextech. It had started with late nights and missed dinners, but now, it felt like you were living in separate worlds—his dominated by invention and progress, yours left behind in the quiet spaces he no longer seemed to care about.

You stepped forward, crossing the room until you were standing beside him, your hands resting on the workbench as you tried to bridge the gap. “You’ve been working yourself to death,” you said quietly, your voice soft but pleading. “You never stop anymore. You barely sleep, you barely eat, and it feels like… like I’m losing you.”

Viktor’s jaw tightened, and he turned slightly to face you, his expression conflicted. “You know how important this is,” he said, his tone both apologetic and frustrated. “There’s so much at stake. I can’t just stop now.”

“I’m not asking you to stop,” you said, your voice shaking slightly. “I’m asking you to remember that you don’t have to do this alone. That I’m still here. That I… I still need you.”

His eyes softened at that, but there was a weariness in them, a deep exhaustion that went beyond just the physical. “I know,” he whispered, his voice strained with guilt. “I’m trying. But there’s so much that needs to be done. Every day I feel like I’m falling further behind. Like I’ll never be enough.”

Your heart ached at his words. You knew how hard Viktor was on himself, how relentless his pursuit of perfection had become. But you also knew that it was tearing him apart—that it was tearing both of you apart.

Reaching out, you gently took his hand, the cold metal of his brace against your skin a stark reminder of the lengths he had gone to for his work. “You are enough, Viktor,” you said softly, your voice trembling with emotion. “You’ve always been enough.”

He stared down at your intertwined hands, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you thought he might pull away, retreat back into his world of metal and machinery where emotions were secondary, where the only thing that mattered was the next breakthrough. But then, slowly, his fingers tightened around yours, a fragile acknowledgment of the connection he was so afraid of losing.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said quietly, his voice breaking ever so slightly. “But I don’t know how to stop.”

Tears stung your eyes, but you blinked them back, determined to stay strong for him. “You don’t have to stop,” you whispered, stepping closer until your body was pressed against his. “I’m not asking you to give up on your dreams, Viktor. I just want to be a part of them. I want to be with you, not just beside you.”

Viktor’s breath hitched at your words, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he turned fully toward you, his eyes searching yours with a vulnerability that cut through the layers of distance he had built. “I don’t want to lose you,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. “But I don’t know if I can give you what you deserve.”

You shook your head, your hand reaching up to cup his face, your thumb brushing gently against his cheek. “You’ve already given me everything I need,” you said softly, your voice full of conviction. “I just need you.”

For a long moment, Viktor didn’t move, didn’t speak. He simply stared at you, his eyes wide with disbelief, as if he couldn’t quite understand how you could still love him despite everything. But then, slowly, he leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. It was the closest you had felt to him in weeks, and the sheer relief of it made your heart ache.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice full of self-doubt.

“Maybe not,” you teased gently, your lips curving into a small smile despite the tears in your eyes. “But you’ve got me anyway.”

Viktor let out a shaky breath, and for the first time in a long time, you saw the faintest hint of a smile tug at his lips. It was small, barely there, but it was enough. Enough to remind you of the man you had fallen in love with—the man who still existed beneath the layers of ambition and exhaustion.

You stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence, the world outside the lab fading away. It wasn’t perfect, and you knew there were still battles to be fought, both within Viktor and outside of him. But in that moment, you had each other, and that was enough.

Eventually, Viktor pulled back, his hand still holding yours as he looked at you with a mixture of love and guilt. “I’ll try,” he said quietly, his voice soft but full of sincerity. “I’ll try to be better.”

You smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face. “That’s all I need.”

[lifefragments]

Healing Hearts

Genres: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance

Pairing: Vi (Arcane) x Female Reader

Vi's knuckles were bruised again.

You had noticed it when she came back to the apartment, barely saying a word. Her shoulders hunched, eyes shadowed with whatever demons had followed her home from another long day in the underbelly of Zaun. The fight against Silco and the other criminals that still plagued the city weighed on her, but you could see that there was something deeper gnawing at her.

"Vi?" You called out softly, watching her as she tossed her jacket over a chair. She hadn’t even looked at you. She muttered something unintelligible, already moving toward the bathroom.

You followed after her, not willing to let her brush this off like she usually did. Vi was strong, but even the strongest people needed a break. You weren’t about to let her carry the weight of the world on her shoulders alone.

"Vi, talk to me."

She stopped, her hands gripping the edge of the sink, head bowed. Her silence spoke louder than any words she could have said. Her reflection stared back at her from the cracked mirror, but it wasn’t the same confident, fiery woman you had fallen in love with. This version of her looked... lost. Tired. Beaten down.

"I’m fine," she finally said, her voice low, rough around the edges.

"You're not fine. Your knuckles—" You reached out, taking her hand gently. Her skin was bruised and torn, some cuts still fresh. Vi winced but didn’t pull away.

"It’s nothing." She withdrew her hand and turned her back to you, running the water in the sink to clean her wounds.

You clenched your fists at your sides, frustrated. This wasn’t the first time she’d come home like this, and it certainly wasn’t the first time she’d tried to shut you out.

"Vi, you can’t keep doing this." Your voice cracked with the frustration and worry you’d been holding in for too long. "You can’t keep taking everything on by yourself and then pushing me away when you’re hurting."

She stiffened, the tension in her body palpable. For a moment, you thought she might explode, but she remained silent, her shoulders rising and falling with heavy breaths.

"You think I want to bring you into this?" she finally snapped, her voice sharp. "You think I want you to see me like this? I can't drag you down into my mess, into... into what I am."

Her words stung, but you knew they came from a place of pain, not malice. She had always been protective, but you never asked her to protect you from her.

"You’re not a mess, Vi," you said, your voice softer now, stepping closer to her. "And you don’t have to carry this alone. I’m here for you, but you keep pushing me away."

"I don’t want to hurt you." Her voice wavered, and when she turned to look at you, you could see the cracks in her armor. Her blue eyes were filled with guilt, frustration, and something deeper... fear.

"You won’t hurt me," you whispered, reaching up to gently cup her face, your thumb brushing over the scar on her cheek. "What hurts is when you shut me out like this. I love you, Vi. I’m not leaving because things are hard."

For a moment, her tough exterior crumbled, and she leaned into your touch, closing her eyes as if she were savoring the warmth of your hand against her cold skin. But the moment was fleeting, and she stepped back, breaking the connection.

"You don’t get it." Vi's voice was hoarse. "I can't always control what happens out there. I can’t always protect you, and one day... one day, I might come back worse than this. Or not at all."

Her words hung heavy in the air, and you felt your heart drop. You knew Vi’s world was dangerous—her life was a constant fight—but the way she was talking, it was as if she had already resigned herself to that fate.

"You think I don’t know that?" you asked, your voice breaking. "Every time you walk out that door, I worry about you. But I stay because I love you, and because I trust you. We can face this together. Don’t you get that?"

Vi looked at you, eyes wide, like she hadn’t realized how much her silence and self-imposed isolation had hurt you. Her tough exterior cracked even more, and you saw the vulnerability in her eyes—the part of her that was scared to let you in completely, terrified that you’d see the worst of her and walk away.

"I don’t know how to do this," she admitted quietly, her voice small. "I don’t know how to let someone be there for me."

You took a step closer, gently taking her bruised hands in yours once again. "You don’t have to know how to do it all at once. We’ll figure it out together."

For the first time in what felt like days, Vi let her guard down. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against yours, her breath shaky as she tried to compose herself. You could feel the weight of her exhaustion, the toll it had taken on her, and all you wanted to do was take some of that burden off her shoulders.

"I’m sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I don’t mean to push you away. I just... I’m scared."

You wrapped your arms around her, holding her tight as if you could shield her from the world that had done so much damage. "It’s okay to be scared, Vi. But you don’t have to face it alone. I’m not going anywhere."

She pulled you even closer, burying her face in the crook of your neck. You could feel the dampness of her tears against your skin, but you didn’t say anything. You just held her, letting her know that she didn’t have to carry this all by herself anymore.

It wasn’t going to be easy—nothing ever was in Zaun—but for the first time in a long time, Vi let herself lean on you. And you were more than willing to hold her up.

[lifefragments]

Please help me decide which character I should write about next <3

Thank you so muuuch

[lifefragments]

Crawling back to you

Pairing: Jayce x Reader Genre: Angst, Slow-Burn Romance, Longing Inspired by: Do I Wanna Know? by Arctic Monkeys Setting: Arcane post-Season 1, late-night encounter in Piltover

The streets of Piltover were unusually quiet as you made your way through the cobbled alleys that led toward Jayce’s workshop. The moon hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the city’s rooftops, and the cold night air bit at your skin. But despite the chill, your heart pounded in your chest, each step you took feeling heavier than the last.

It had been weeks since you’d last seen Jayce. Weeks since you’d last felt the warmth of his presence, the unspoken bond you once shared. It was strange how things could change so quickly—how the connection that had once been so effortless now felt strained, hanging in the balance of unspoken words and unresolved feelings. You weren’t sure what had led you here tonight. Maybe it was the sleepless nights, the constant replaying of every conversation, every glance, every touch. Or maybe it was just the nagging question that had been eating at you: Did he feel it too?

The workshop door loomed in front of you, slightly ajar, as if Jayce had been expecting someone. You hesitated for a moment, nerves twisting in your stomach. What if this was a mistake? What if coming here tonight only made things worse? But before you could talk yourself out of it, you pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The soft hum of machinery filled the space, and the warm glow of lanterns bathed the workshop in an amber light. Jayce was at his workbench, his back to you, lost in whatever project he had thrown himself into. He hadn’t noticed you yet, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to just watch him—the way his hands moved with precision, the furrow of concentration on his brow. It was a sight you had grown familiar with over the years, but tonight, it felt different. There was something heavy in the air between you, a tension that hadn’t been there before.

Finally, you cleared your throat, and Jayce’s head snapped up at the sound. His eyes met yours, wide with surprise, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The weight of everything unsaid hung between you, thick and suffocating.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice rough from disuse.

You swallowed hard, suddenly feeling unsure of yourself. You hadn’t exactly planned this—hadn’t thought about what you’d say once you were face-to-face with him. “I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice softer than you intended. “I just couldn’t sleep.”

Jayce nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving yours, and you could see the flicker of something in his eyes—something you hadn’t seen in a long time. “Yeah,” he muttered, his tone quieter now, almost vulnerable. “Neither can I.”

You stood there for a moment, the distance between you feeling impossibly wide despite being only a few feet apart. You could feel the unspoken question hanging in the air: Why? Why couldn’t either of you sleep? Why couldn’t you let go of this, of each other?

Jayce let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he turned away from the workbench. “I didn’t think you’d come back here,” he said, his voice low and laced with something you couldn’t quite place—regret, maybe, or longing.

“I didn’t either,” you confessed, stepping closer but still keeping a careful distance between you. “But I couldn’t stop thinking about… everything. About us.”

His shoulders tensed at your words, and you saw the way his jaw clenched, like he was holding something back. “I didn’t want things to end like this,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I never wanted to push you away.”

The ache in your chest grew at his words. You had felt the distance between you growing over the last few months, like a silent wall that neither of you knew how to tear down. He had been consumed by his work, by his role as Piltover’s shining hero, and in the process, he had started to pull away from you. But the truth was, you had pulled away too. You had been scared—scared of what this all meant, of how deep your feelings for him really ran.

“I know,” you said quietly, your voice trembling slightly. “But it feels like we’ve been dancing around this for so long, Jayce. I don’t even know what we’re doing anymore.”

Jayce looked at you then, really looked at you, and you could see the conflict in his eyes. There was something raw in his expression, something that told you he had been thinking about this just as much as you had. “Neither do I,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. “But I can’t stop thinking about you. About us. Every time I try to focus, every time I think I’ve moved on, you’re still there. In my head. In everything.”

Your breath hitched at his words. It was the confession you hadn’t expected, but the one you had been longing to hear. The truth was, you had felt it too. That constant pull, that lingering thought of him, always in the back of your mind no matter how hard you tried to forget.

“Do you really mean that?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, afraid to hope that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way you did.

Jayce took a step closer, his gaze locked on yours, and you could feel the intensity of his presence, the heat radiating off him despite the cold of the night. “I wouldn’t lie about that,” he said, his voice firm but full of vulnerability. “I’ve been trying to figure out what this all means, but the truth is… I’m scared. Scared of messing this up. Scared of losing you.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, his words wrapping around you like a lifeline. You had been scared too—scared of the same things. But hearing him say it out loud made it feel real, like the weight of the unspoken had finally been lifted.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly as you took a tentative step toward him. “But we can’t keep pretending like this doesn’t matter. Like we don’t matter.”

Jayce let out a shaky breath, his eyes softening as he reached out to take your hand, his fingers brushing against yours. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, it felt like everything around you had fallen away. It was just the two of you—no expectations, no fears, just the raw truth of what you felt for each other.

“I don’t want to pretend anymore,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I want this. I want you.”

The words hit you like a wave, and before you could stop yourself, you closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace. His arms came around you just as quickly, pulling you close as if he was afraid you might slip away.

For a long moment, neither of you said anything. You just held each other, the silence between you filled with the unspoken promise that things could be different. That maybe, despite all the fears and doubts, you could find a way to make this work.

When you finally pulled back, Jayce’s gaze was soft but full of determination. “I don’t know where we go from here,” he admitted, his voice low. “But I know I don’t want to lose you again.”

You nodded, your heart racing as you met his gaze. “Then let’s figure it out together.”

Jayce smiled—a small, tentative smile, but one filled with hope.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, the uncertainty that had been hanging over you both seemed to fade, replaced by something stronger. Something real.

[lifefragments]

Crawling back to you

Pairing: Jayce x Reader Genre: Angst, Slow-Burn Romance, Longing Inspired by: Do I Wanna Know? by Arctic Monkeys Setting: Arcane post-Season 1, late-night encounter in Piltover

The streets of Piltover were unusually quiet as you made your way through the cobbled alleys that led toward Jayce’s workshop. The moon hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the city’s rooftops, and the cold night air bit at your skin. But despite the chill, your heart pounded in your chest, each step you took feeling heavier than the last.

It had been weeks since you’d last seen Jayce. Weeks since you’d last felt the warmth of his presence, the unspoken bond you once shared. It was strange how things could change so quickly—how the connection that had once been so effortless now felt strained, hanging in the balance of unspoken words and unresolved feelings. You weren’t sure what had led you here tonight. Maybe it was the sleepless nights, the constant replaying of every conversation, every glance, every touch. Or maybe it was just the nagging question that had been eating at you: Did he feel it too?

The workshop door loomed in front of you, slightly ajar, as if Jayce had been expecting someone. You hesitated for a moment, nerves twisting in your stomach. What if this was a mistake? What if coming here tonight only made things worse? But before you could talk yourself out of it, you pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The soft hum of machinery filled the space, and the warm glow of lanterns bathed the workshop in an amber light. Jayce was at his workbench, his back to you, lost in whatever project he had thrown himself into. He hadn’t noticed you yet, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to just watch him—the way his hands moved with precision, the furrow of concentration on his brow. It was a sight you had grown familiar with over the years, but tonight, it felt different. There was something heavy in the air between you, a tension that hadn’t been there before.

Finally, you cleared your throat, and Jayce’s head snapped up at the sound. His eyes met yours, wide with surprise, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The weight of everything unsaid hung between you, thick and suffocating.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice rough from disuse.

You swallowed hard, suddenly feeling unsure of yourself. You hadn’t exactly planned this—hadn’t thought about what you’d say once you were face-to-face with him. “I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice softer than you intended. “I just couldn’t sleep.”

Jayce nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving yours, and you could see the flicker of something in his eyes—something you hadn’t seen in a long time. “Yeah,” he muttered, his tone quieter now, almost vulnerable. “Neither can I.”

You stood there for a moment, the distance between you feeling impossibly wide despite being only a few feet apart. You could feel the unspoken question hanging in the air: Why? Why couldn’t either of you sleep? Why couldn’t you let go of this, of each other?

Jayce let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he turned away from the workbench. “I didn’t think you’d come back here,” he said, his voice low and laced with something you couldn’t quite place—regret, maybe, or longing.

“I didn’t either,” you confessed, stepping closer but still keeping a careful distance between you. “But I couldn’t stop thinking about… everything. About us.”

His shoulders tensed at your words, and you saw the way his jaw clenched, like he was holding something back. “I didn’t want things to end like this,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I never wanted to push you away.”

The ache in your chest grew at his words. You had felt the distance between you growing over the last few months, like a silent wall that neither of you knew how to tear down. He had been consumed by his work, by his role as Piltover’s shining hero, and in the process, he had started to pull away from you. But the truth was, you had pulled away too. You had been scared—scared of what this all meant, of how deep your feelings for him really ran.

“I know,” you said quietly, your voice trembling slightly. “But it feels like we’ve been dancing around this for so long, Jayce. I don’t even know what we’re doing anymore.”

Jayce looked at you then, really looked at you, and you could see the conflict in his eyes. There was something raw in his expression, something that told you he had been thinking about this just as much as you had. “Neither do I,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. “But I can’t stop thinking about you. About us. Every time I try to focus, every time I think I’ve moved on, you’re still there. In my head. In everything.”

Your breath hitched at his words. It was the confession you hadn’t expected, but the one you had been longing to hear. The truth was, you had felt it too. That constant pull, that lingering thought of him, always in the back of your mind no matter how hard you tried to forget.

“Do you really mean that?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, afraid to hope that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way you did.

Jayce took a step closer, his gaze locked on yours, and you could feel the intensity of his presence, the heat radiating off him despite the cold of the night. “I wouldn’t lie about that,” he said, his voice firm but full of vulnerability. “I’ve been trying to figure out what this all means, but the truth is… I’m scared. Scared of messing this up. Scared of losing you.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, his words wrapping around you like a lifeline. You had been scared too—scared of the same things. But hearing him say it out loud made it feel real, like the weight of the unspoken had finally been lifted.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly as you took a tentative step toward him. “But we can’t keep pretending like this doesn’t matter. Like we don’t matter.”

Jayce let out a shaky breath, his eyes softening as he reached out to take your hand, his fingers brushing against yours. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, it felt like everything around you had fallen away. It was just the two of you—no expectations, no fears, just the raw truth of what you felt for each other.

“I don’t want to pretend anymore,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I want this. I want you.”

The words hit you like a wave, and before you could stop yourself, you closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace. His arms came around you just as quickly, pulling you close as if he was afraid you might slip away.

For a long moment, neither of you said anything. You just held each other, the silence between you filled with the unspoken promise that things could be different. That maybe, despite all the fears and doubts, you could find a way to make this work.

When you finally pulled back, Jayce’s gaze was soft but full of determination. “I don’t know where we go from here,” he admitted, his voice low. “But I know I don’t want to lose you again.”

You nodded, your heart racing as you met his gaze. “Then let’s figure it out together.”

Jayce smiled—a small, tentative smile, but one filled with hope.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, the uncertainty that had been hanging over you both seemed to fade, replaced by something stronger. Something real.

[lifefragments]

Dark Red

Pairing: Jayce x Reader Genre: Angst, Romance, Drama Setting: Arcane Season 1, after the events of the riots

Zaun’s streets were still alive with whispers of the chaos that had unfolded, but amidst the disarray, there was an unexpected calm that had settled in Piltover. Jayce stood at the edge of his study window, staring out over the city, his thoughts clouded by the events that had transpired. The weight of it all had settled heavily on his chest.

You had always been a steady presence in his life, someone who kept him grounded even when his ambitions ran wild, someone who made him feel like he wasn’t just a tool for progress. But recently, that connection had begun to feel strained, as though something was off, something unspoken.

The argument earlier had shaken him more than he cared to admit. It wasn’t like him to let emotions control his decisions, to lash out at someone he cared about. But the frustration, the pressure, had built up too much. And when you had confronted him about his priorities—about his reckless pursuit of power over the well-being of those who depended on him—he had snapped.

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so uncertain about the future, so unsure of what was worth fighting for. He had tried so hard to change things, to bridge the gap between Piltover and Zaun. But in his heart, he knew he had begun to lose sight of what truly mattered—the people who loved him, the ones he had been pushing away.

His thoughts were interrupted by the soft knock on the door. He didn’t need to turn around to know it was you. Your presence had always been the kind that filled a room, even without words.

“You still up?” Your voice was soft, a little hesitant, but it made his heart ache.

Jayce didn’t respond immediately. He just stared at the lights of the city below, feeling the pang of regret gnawing at him.

You stepped inside, not waiting for an invitation. Your gaze shifted from him to the window, then back to him. You had always been the one to break the silence, the one who could hold him when he needed it most. But tonight, you weren’t sure where to stand.

"Jayce…" you began, your voice low but firm. "We need to talk."

He finally turned to face you, the weight of his emotions threatening to spill over. "I know," he said, his tone almost resigned. "I shouldn’t have said those things. I… I was wrong."

You studied him, noticing the tension in his jaw, the furrow between his brows that hadn't been there before. "You were," you replied, your words sharp but not unkind. "But it’s not just about what you said. It’s about everything. It’s about how you’ve been so caught up in what you’re trying to achieve, you’ve lost sight of what’s important."

Jayce sighed deeply, pushing a hand through his hair. "I’m trying to fix things, [Y/N]. I’m trying to make a difference. But sometimes, it feels like I’m fighting a battle I can’t win."

"I know," you whispered, your heart aching for him. "But it’s not all about fighting. You’ve been so consumed by your need to prove something, Jayce, that you’ve forgotten what matters most—yourself, the people who care about you."

His chest tightened at your words. He wanted to argue, to explain how hard it had been, how much pressure he had been under to be the hero, the one who could save the city. But all he could do was look at you—look at the person who had always understood him, even when he couldn’t understand himself.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he admitted, his voice breaking slightly. The rawness of his confession hit him harder than he expected. The guilt, the overwhelming sense of loss, made his heart race.

You stepped closer, your eyes softening as you took in the vulnerability in his expression. "You won’t," you said quietly. "But you have to choose what matters. You have to choose where your heart is, Jayce. You can’t keep running from it."

For a moment, there was silence between you, the weight of unspoken words lingering in the air. Jayce took a step toward you, his hands trembling slightly as he reached for yours. His touch was tentative, unsure. He wasn’t sure if he had the right to ask for this after everything he had done, after everything he had put you through.

"I don’t know if I can change," he confessed, his gaze searching yours, desperate for some kind of reassurance. "But I’m trying. I swear I am."

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you leaned into him, resting your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. His arms wrapped around you instinctively, pulling you close, as if afraid that if he let go, you might disappear.

“I know you’re trying, Jayce,” you murmured against his shirt. “But sometimes, trying isn’t enough. You have to choose.”

He closed his eyes, the reality of your words settling deep within him. He had been so focused on the idea of change, of saving the city, that he hadn’t stopped to consider what was right in front of him. What he had almost lost.

"I’m sorry," he whispered, the words almost too quiet to hear. "I didn’t mean to push you away. You matter to me more than anything else. More than any of this."

You pulled away just slightly, enough to meet his gaze. There was sadness in your eyes, but also something else—something that spoke of a love that was still there, though fragile.

"I just want you to remember that," you said softly. "I want you to remember us, Jayce. I don’t want to be a casualty of your ambition."

His heart clenched at your words. You weren’t just talking about the two of you—you were talking about everything that had been torn apart in the wake of his actions. But in that moment, he understood. He understood that his desire to change the world couldn’t come at the expense of the people who meant everything to him.

"Give me another chance," he whispered, his voice low, almost pleading. "Please. I’ll do better. I’ll make it right."

You hesitated, your eyes searching his face. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the deep regret that had settled in his chest. And for the first time in a long while, you saw the man you once knew—a man who wasn’t defined by his power, but by his heart.

With a soft sigh, you cupped his face in your hands, gently pulling him closer. "I want to believe you, Jayce. But you have to show me. You have to show me that you’re not just running after some ideal… that you’re running toward what we could be."

His breath caught in his throat as he leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, the weight of his emotions almost overwhelming. “I will,” he promised, his voice thick with emotion. “I will show you.”

In that moment, the world outside seemed to fade away. There were no more riots, no more political games. It was just the two of you, standing in the quiet of his study, trying to find a way back to each other. Trying to find a way back to the love that had always been there, even in the darkest moments.

[lifefragments]

Merry Christmas, Please Don´t Call

Pairing: Jayce x Reader Genre: Angst, Hurt, Kinda Comfort Inspired by: Merry Christmas, Please Don’t Call by Bleachers

Snow had fallen over Piltover, blanketing the city’s rooftops and streets in a layer of white that softened the sharp edges of its architecture. The holiday season was in full swing, with lights strung up along the bridges, people bundled in coats bustling from market stalls to homes filled with warmth. But to you, it felt like the cold had settled deep in your bones and refused to leave.

It had been weeks since you and Jayce had last spoken, and though the streets were full of cheer, the weight of his absence sat heavy in your chest.

The clock on the mantel chimed softly, marking the quiet passing of time in your apartment. You stared at the small tree in the corner of the room, its branches decorated with handmade ornaments that looked dull under the dim glow of the candles. Normally, you loved this time of year. You’d spend hours laughing with Jayce as you put up the decorations, teasing him for not knowing how to string lights properly. But this year… this year everything felt different.

It had all started with a disagreement—a heated one that quickly spiraled into something you hadn’t expected. Jayce had become distant, consumed by the weight of his responsibilities as the leader of Piltover, especially after the devastation that had torn the city apart. You understood the pressure he was under, the need he felt to fix everything, to protect everyone. But somewhere along the way, he had forgotten you. Forgotten that you needed him, too.

You still remembered the way he had looked at you that night, frustration etched across his face as you begged him to just talk to you, to let you in. He hadn’t, though. Instead, he had shut you out completely. His work, his position, his endless pursuit of progress—it had all taken priority. And eventually, it had been too much for you to bear. So, you had left.

Since then, silence had filled the space where his voice used to be. There had been no calls, no letters, no attempts to reconcile. Part of you had expected him to reach out—he had always been the one to bridge the gap, to fix things when they went wrong. But this time, the silence had stretched on, and with each passing day, the distance between you both seemed to grow wider.

The faint sound of music drifted up from the streets below, cheerful and festive. It felt so out of place in the hollow quiet of your apartment. You pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders, trying to ward off the chill that seemed to seep into every corner of the room. In the back of your mind, you wondered if Jayce was out there right now—walking through the markets, greeting the people with that charming smile that had once made your heart race.

A sharp pang of loneliness twisted in your chest, and before you could stop yourself, your hand reached for the small device on the table next to you. The thought had crossed your mind more than once over the past few weeks—calling him, reaching out, breaking the silence. But every time, something had stopped you. Pride, maybe. Or fear. Fear that he wouldn’t pick up. Fear that even if he did, nothing would change.

But tonight, under the weight of the holiday and the crushing emptiness, your resolve crumbled. Your fingers hovered over the buttons, your heart pounding in your chest. You missed him. You missed him more than you wanted to admit, and the thought of spending another holiday without him felt unbearable.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you pressed the button to call him.

The dial tone rang once. Twice. Three times. Your stomach twisted painfully as you waited, half-hoping he wouldn’t answer, half-desperate for him to pick up.

And then, suddenly, the call connected.

"Hello?" His voice came through, deep and familiar, but there was a hesitation in it, like he wasn’t sure what to expect.

Your breath caught in your throat. For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. What could you say after weeks of silence? After everything that had gone unsaid between you?

"Jayce," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

There was a pause on the other end, and you could hear him inhale sharply, like he was surprised to hear from you. "I… I didn’t think you’d call."

You bit your lip, your hand trembling slightly as you gripped the device tighter. "I didn’t plan to. But… it’s Christmas."

Another silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. You could hear the faint sound of music in the background on his end—he was probably at some event, surrounded by people, no doubt wearing that polished smile of his. The thought only made the ache in your chest worse.

“I miss you,” you said quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. It wasn’t what you had planned to say, but it was the truth, and tonight, you couldn’t keep it inside any longer.

Jayce exhaled slowly, and when he spoke again, his voice was softer. “I miss you, too.”

The admission hung in the air, thick with all the things you hadn’t said, all the feelings that had built up over the weeks apart. You closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing, but the tears were already threatening to spill over.

“Why didn’t you call?” you asked, your voice breaking slightly. It was the question that had been haunting you since the day you left, the one that had kept you up at night, wondering if he had ever thought of you.

“I didn’t know if you wanted me to,” Jayce admitted. There was a rawness in his voice, something vulnerable that you hadn’t heard in a long time. “After everything, I wasn’t sure if you still… if you still wanted me.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away, though there was no one there to see it. “Of course I still want you, Jayce. I never stopped.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you anymore,” he whispered, and you could hear the regret in his voice, thick and heavy. “I know I messed up. I got so caught up in trying to fix everything that I didn’t see how much I was losing. I didn’t see how much I was losing you.”

You swallowed hard, your heart aching at his words. You had waited so long to hear him say that, to hear him acknowledge what had gone wrong. But now that he had, it didn’t feel as satisfying as you thought it would. It just made you feel… sad.

“I didn’t call to make you feel guilty,” you said softly. “I just… I needed to hear your voice. It’s Christmas, and I didn’t want to spend it feeling like this.”

“I don’t want you to feel like that either,” he replied quickly, his voice laced with urgency. “I’ve been thinking about you every day. I wanted to call, to see you, but I didn’t know how to make things right.”

You let out a shaky breath, your hand tightening around the device. “Maybe we can start by not being apart tonight.”

There was a pause, and for a moment, you worried you had overstepped. But then, Jayce’s voice came through, soft and full of warmth. “I can be there in twenty minutes.”

Your heart fluttered at the thought, but a part of you was still afraid. Afraid that even if he came back, it wouldn’t be enough. That the distance between you wasn’t just physical.

“Jayce,” you said softly, your voice tinged with hesitation. “Are we… are we going to be okay?”

He was quiet for a moment, and when he finally spoke, his voice was filled with determination. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I’m not giving up on us. Not now. Not ever.”

A tear slipped down your cheek again, but this time, it wasn’t out of sadness. “Okay,” you whispered. “Come home.”

“I’m on my way.”

As the call ended, you set the device down, your heart racing in your chest. For the first time in weeks, you felt a flicker of hope. Maybe it wouldn’t be perfect. Maybe there were still things you needed to figure out. But tonight, you wouldn’t be alone.

[lifefragments]

Dark Red

Pairing: Jayce x Reader Genre: Angst, Romance, Drama Setting: Arcane Season 1, after the events of the riots

Zaun’s streets were still alive with whispers of the chaos that had unfolded, but amidst the disarray, there was an unexpected calm that had settled in Piltover. Jayce stood at the edge of his study window, staring out over the city, his thoughts clouded by the events that had transpired. The weight of it all had settled heavily on his chest.

You had always been a steady presence in his life, someone who kept him grounded even when his ambitions ran wild, someone who made him feel like he wasn’t just a tool for progress. But recently, that connection had begun to feel strained, as though something was off, something unspoken.

The argument earlier had shaken him more than he cared to admit. It wasn’t like him to let emotions control his decisions, to lash out at someone he cared about. But the frustration, the pressure, had built up too much. And when you had confronted him about his priorities—about his reckless pursuit of power over the well-being of those who depended on him—he had snapped.

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so uncertain about the future, so unsure of what was worth fighting for. He had tried so hard to change things, to bridge the gap between Piltover and Zaun. But in his heart, he knew he had begun to lose sight of what truly mattered—the people who loved him, the ones he had been pushing away.

His thoughts were interrupted by the soft knock on the door. He didn’t need to turn around to know it was you. Your presence had always been the kind that filled a room, even without words.

“You still up?” Your voice was soft, a little hesitant, but it made his heart ache.

Jayce didn’t respond immediately. He just stared at the lights of the city below, feeling the pang of regret gnawing at him.

You stepped inside, not waiting for an invitation. Your gaze shifted from him to the window, then back to him. You had always been the one to break the silence, the one who could hold him when he needed it most. But tonight, you weren’t sure where to stand.

"Jayce…" you began, your voice low but firm. "We need to talk."

He finally turned to face you, the weight of his emotions threatening to spill over. "I know," he said, his tone almost resigned. "I shouldn’t have said those things. I… I was wrong."

You studied him, noticing the tension in his jaw, the furrow between his brows that hadn't been there before. "You were," you replied, your words sharp but not unkind. "But it’s not just about what you said. It’s about everything. It’s about how you’ve been so caught up in what you’re trying to achieve, you’ve lost sight of what’s important."

Jayce sighed deeply, pushing a hand through his hair. "I’m trying to fix things, [Y/N]. I’m trying to make a difference. But sometimes, it feels like I’m fighting a battle I can’t win."

"I know," you whispered, your heart aching for him. "But it’s not all about fighting. You’ve been so consumed by your need to prove something, Jayce, that you’ve forgotten what matters most—yourself, the people who care about you."

His chest tightened at your words. He wanted to argue, to explain how hard it had been, how much pressure he had been under to be the hero, the one who could save the city. But all he could do was look at you—look at the person who had always understood him, even when he couldn’t understand himself.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he admitted, his voice breaking slightly. The rawness of his confession hit him harder than he expected. The guilt, the overwhelming sense of loss, made his heart race.

You stepped closer, your eyes softening as you took in the vulnerability in his expression. "You won’t," you said quietly. "But you have to choose what matters. You have to choose where your heart is, Jayce. You can’t keep running from it."

For a moment, there was silence between you, the weight of unspoken words lingering in the air. Jayce took a step toward you, his hands trembling slightly as he reached for yours. His touch was tentative, unsure. He wasn’t sure if he had the right to ask for this after everything he had done, after everything he had put you through.

"I don’t know if I can change," he confessed, his gaze searching yours, desperate for some kind of reassurance. "But I’m trying. I swear I am."

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you leaned into him, resting your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. His arms wrapped around you instinctively, pulling you close, as if afraid that if he let go, you might disappear.

“I know you’re trying, Jayce,” you murmured against his shirt. “But sometimes, trying isn’t enough. You have to choose.”

He closed his eyes, the reality of your words settling deep within him. He had been so focused on the idea of change, of saving the city, that he hadn’t stopped to consider what was right in front of him. What he had almost lost.

"I’m sorry," he whispered, the words almost too quiet to hear. "I didn’t mean to push you away. You matter to me more than anything else. More than any of this."

You pulled away just slightly, enough to meet his gaze. There was sadness in your eyes, but also something else—something that spoke of a love that was still there, though fragile.

"I just want you to remember that," you said softly. "I want you to remember us, Jayce. I don’t want to be a casualty of your ambition."

His heart clenched at your words. You weren’t just talking about the two of you—you were talking about everything that had been torn apart in the wake of his actions. But in that moment, he understood. He understood that his desire to change the world couldn’t come at the expense of the people who meant everything to him.

"Give me another chance," he whispered, his voice low, almost pleading. "Please. I’ll do better. I’ll make it right."

You hesitated, your eyes searching his face. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the deep regret that had settled in his chest. And for the first time in a long while, you saw the man you once knew—a man who wasn’t defined by his power, but by his heart.

With a soft sigh, you cupped his face in your hands, gently pulling him closer. "I want to believe you, Jayce. But you have to show me. You have to show me that you’re not just running after some ideal… that you’re running toward what we could be."

His breath caught in his throat as he leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, the weight of his emotions almost overwhelming. “I will,” he promised, his voice thick with emotion. “I will show you.”

In that moment, the world outside seemed to fade away. There were no more riots, no more political games. It was just the two of you, standing in the quiet of his study, trying to find a way back to each other. Trying to find a way back to the love that had always been there, even in the darkest moments.

[lifefragments]

Flickers of Light

Pairing: Ekko & Powder (Platonic) Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship Setting: Arcane Season 2, after the events of Season 1 (but before full reconciliation)

Title: The Girl I Knew Pairing: Ekko & Powder (Platonic) Genre: Fluff, Comfort Setting: Arcane Season 2, after the events of Season 1 (but before full reconciliation)

Zaun's neon lights flickered through the smog-filled streets, casting a soft glow over the Firelights' hideout. It was a rare quiet night, the kind that felt almost like a gift after all the chaos they’d been through. Ekko found himself standing on the balcony, overlooking the city that had shaped him and so many others—people he’d loved, people he’d lost.

And now, one of those people was back in his life.

Powder—or Jinx, as she called herself now—was somewhere inside the hideout, patching herself up after another reckless stunt. She’d returned, in her own way, after the fallout of everything that had happened with Silco. But she wasn’t quite the same girl he remembered. The wide-eyed, innocent Powder who had followed her sister around like a shadow was buried under layers of chaos, trauma, and pain. Jinx had taken over, but every once in a while… Powder flickered through.

Ekko sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he leaned against the railing. He didn’t know how to feel about it—about her. The girl who had been his best friend, the one he used to share his dreams with, was also the one who had become a walking storm of destruction. But despite everything, he couldn’t forget the good in her. The part of her that still cared, still felt. He had seen it, in brief moments, when she let her guard down.

A soft noise behind him broke his thoughts. Ekko turned, finding Jinx standing at the doorway, her figure silhouetted against the dim lights of the hideout. She looked unsure, almost awkward—like she wasn’t quite sure if she was welcome in his presence or not.

“Hey,” she said, her voice quieter than he was used to. She was usually loud, brash, full of chaos. But right now, she sounded more like… Powder.

Ekko nodded, offering her a small smile. “Hey. How’s the arm?”

Jinx shrugged, flexing her fingers experimentally. “I’ve had worse,” she said, though there was a flicker of discomfort in her eyes. She stepped closer, her eyes scanning the city below. “It’s quiet tonight.”

“Yeah,” Ekko replied, watching her carefully. “Kind of nice, isn’t it?”

She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she leaned against the railing, staring out at the distant lights. For a long moment, they just stood there, side by side, the tension between them easing into something softer. More familiar. It reminded him of when they were kids—back when the world wasn’t so complicated.

“I used to love it here,” Jinx murmured, her eyes distant, as if she was looking at something far beyond the horizon. “The city, I mean. I used to think we’d change it. Make it better.”

Ekko’s heart ached at the sound of her voice, so vulnerable, so raw. He hadn’t heard her talk like that in so long. It was like hearing Powder again, the girl who used to dream about building a better Zaun with him.

“We still can,” he said gently. “Maybe not the way we thought we would, but… we can still make a difference.”

Jinx laughed softly, but it was a sad sound, filled with years of pain and regret. “You’re always the optimist, aren’t you, Firefly?”

Ekko shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Someone’s gotta be.”

She looked at him then, her blue eyes searching his face, as if she was trying to figure something out. There was something softer in her gaze now—something that reminded him of the Powder he used to know. “Do you ever wish things could go back? To how they were?”

Ekko’s breath caught in his throat at the question. Did he? Sometimes, in his quieter moments, he did. He wished they could go back to being kids again, back when their biggest problem was sneaking out of the Lanes without getting caught. But the world didn’t work like that. Too much had happened. Too many lines had been crossed.

“I used to,” he admitted after a pause. “But… we can’t go back. We can only move forward.”

Jinx’s eyes flickered with something—maybe pain, maybe acceptance. She looked away, her fingers drumming against the metal railing. “Forward, huh? I don’t even know what that looks like anymore.”

“It looks like this,” Ekko said, gently nudging her shoulder with his. “One step at a time.”

She smiled then—just a small, brief thing, but it was real. Not the manic grin she wore when she was deep in her Jinx persona, but something closer to the Powder he remembered. It made his chest feel lighter, like maybe there was still hope after all.

“Do you remember when we used to sneak out and play in the junkyard?” she asked suddenly, her voice wistful. “We used to build all sorts of things out of scrap metal. Half of them didn’t work, but we thought we were geniuses.”

Ekko chuckled, the memory warming him from the inside. “Yeah, I remember. You made that crazy slingshot that nearly took Vi’s head off.”

Jinx snorted, shaking her head. “She was so mad. But we couldn’t stop laughing.”

It was a good memory, one of the few that wasn’t tinged with sadness or loss. For a moment, they were just two kids again, laughing in the face of a world that had always been too big for them.

“You know,” Ekko said after a beat, his voice soft, “I never forgot about you. Even when everything went to hell, I never stopped hoping that… that you’d come back.”

Jinx stiffened slightly at his words, her grip on the railing tightening. “I don’t know if I can come back, Ekko. Not the way you want me to.”

“I’m not asking you to be Powder,” Ekko said quietly, turning to face her. “I just want you to be… you. Whatever that looks like now.”

She looked at him then, her eyes wide and uncertain, like she wasn’t sure how to take his words. But there was a flicker of something—hope, maybe—in her gaze. She wasn’t used to people accepting her for who she was now, not after everything she had done. But Ekko… Ekko had always been different.

“I don’t even know who I am anymore,” she admitted, her voice small, vulnerable.

“That’s okay,” Ekko replied gently. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

Jinx didn’t respond right away. Instead, she looked out at the city again, her expression thoughtful. Slowly, she relaxed, the tension in her shoulders easing as she leaned into the moment. Into him.

“I’m scared, Ekko,” she whispered, so softly that he almost didn’t hear it. “I’m scared that I’m too broken. That I’ve lost too much.”

Ekko’s heart clenched at her words, but he didn’t hesitate. He reached out, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. She stiffened at first, unused to the comfort, but then she let herself lean into him, her head resting on his shoulder.

“You’re not broken,” he said softly, his voice steady. “You’re hurt, yeah. But that doesn’t mean you can’t heal.”

They sat like that for a long time, the weight of the world melting away as they shared the silence. For the first time in what felt like years, Jinx—no, Powder—let herself feel safe. It wasn’t perfect, and it wouldn’t fix everything overnight. But in that moment, she wasn’t the chaos she had become. She was just a girl, sitting beside someone who still cared about her, despite everything.

And that was enough.

For now.

[lifefragments]

Flickers of Light

Pairing: Ekko & Powder (Platonic) Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship Setting: Arcane Season 2, after the events of Season 1 (but before full reconciliation)

Title: The Girl I Knew Pairing: Ekko & Powder (Platonic) Genre: Fluff, Comfort Setting: Arcane Season 2, after the events of Season 1 (but before full reconciliation)

Zaun's neon lights flickered through the smog-filled streets, casting a soft glow over the Firelights' hideout. It was a rare quiet night, the kind that felt almost like a gift after all the chaos they’d been through. Ekko found himself standing on the balcony, overlooking the city that had shaped him and so many others—people he’d loved, people he’d lost.

And now, one of those people was back in his life.

Powder—or Jinx, as she called herself now—was somewhere inside the hideout, patching herself up after another reckless stunt. She’d returned, in her own way, after the fallout of everything that had happened with Silco. But she wasn’t quite the same girl he remembered. The wide-eyed, innocent Powder who had followed her sister around like a shadow was buried under layers of chaos, trauma, and pain. Jinx had taken over, but every once in a while… Powder flickered through.

Ekko sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he leaned against the railing. He didn’t know how to feel about it—about her. The girl who had been his best friend, the one he used to share his dreams with, was also the one who had become a walking storm of destruction. But despite everything, he couldn’t forget the good in her. The part of her that still cared, still felt. He had seen it, in brief moments, when she let her guard down.

A soft noise behind him broke his thoughts. Ekko turned, finding Jinx standing at the doorway, her figure silhouetted against the dim lights of the hideout. She looked unsure, almost awkward—like she wasn’t quite sure if she was welcome in his presence or not.

“Hey,” she said, her voice quieter than he was used to. She was usually loud, brash, full of chaos. But right now, she sounded more like… Powder.

Ekko nodded, offering her a small smile. “Hey. How’s the arm?”

Jinx shrugged, flexing her fingers experimentally. “I’ve had worse,” she said, though there was a flicker of discomfort in her eyes. She stepped closer, her eyes scanning the city below. “It’s quiet tonight.”

“Yeah,” Ekko replied, watching her carefully. “Kind of nice, isn’t it?”

She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she leaned against the railing, staring out at the distant lights. For a long moment, they just stood there, side by side, the tension between them easing into something softer. More familiar. It reminded him of when they were kids—back when the world wasn’t so complicated.

“I used to love it here,” Jinx murmured, her eyes distant, as if she was looking at something far beyond the horizon. “The city, I mean. I used to think we’d change it. Make it better.”

Ekko’s heart ached at the sound of her voice, so vulnerable, so raw. He hadn’t heard her talk like that in so long. It was like hearing Powder again, the girl who used to dream about building a better Zaun with him.

“We still can,” he said gently. “Maybe not the way we thought we would, but… we can still make a difference.”

Jinx laughed softly, but it was a sad sound, filled with years of pain and regret. “You’re always the optimist, aren’t you, Firefly?”

Ekko shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Someone’s gotta be.”

She looked at him then, her blue eyes searching his face, as if she was trying to figure something out. There was something softer in her gaze now—something that reminded him of the Powder he used to know. “Do you ever wish things could go back? To how they were?”

Ekko’s breath caught in his throat at the question. Did he? Sometimes, in his quieter moments, he did. He wished they could go back to being kids again, back when their biggest problem was sneaking out of the Lanes without getting caught. But the world didn’t work like that. Too much had happened. Too many lines had been crossed.

“I used to,” he admitted after a pause. “But… we can’t go back. We can only move forward.”

Jinx’s eyes flickered with something—maybe pain, maybe acceptance. She looked away, her fingers drumming against the metal railing. “Forward, huh? I don’t even know what that looks like anymore.”

“It looks like this,” Ekko said, gently nudging her shoulder with his. “One step at a time.”

She smiled then—just a small, brief thing, but it was real. Not the manic grin she wore when she was deep in her Jinx persona, but something closer to the Powder he remembered. It made his chest feel lighter, like maybe there was still hope after all.

“Do you remember when we used to sneak out and play in the junkyard?” she asked suddenly, her voice wistful. “We used to build all sorts of things out of scrap metal. Half of them didn’t work, but we thought we were geniuses.”

Ekko chuckled, the memory warming him from the inside. “Yeah, I remember. You made that crazy slingshot that nearly took Vi’s head off.”

Jinx snorted, shaking her head. “She was so mad. But we couldn’t stop laughing.”

It was a good memory, one of the few that wasn’t tinged with sadness or loss. For a moment, they were just two kids again, laughing in the face of a world that had always been too big for them.

“You know,” Ekko said after a beat, his voice soft, “I never forgot about you. Even when everything went to hell, I never stopped hoping that… that you’d come back.”

Jinx stiffened slightly at his words, her grip on the railing tightening. “I don’t know if I can come back, Ekko. Not the way you want me to.”

“I’m not asking you to be Powder,” Ekko said quietly, turning to face her. “I just want you to be… you. Whatever that looks like now.”

She looked at him then, her eyes wide and uncertain, like she wasn’t sure how to take his words. But there was a flicker of something—hope, maybe—in her gaze. She wasn’t used to people accepting her for who she was now, not after everything she had done. But Ekko… Ekko had always been different.

“I don’t even know who I am anymore,” she admitted, her voice small, vulnerable.

“That’s okay,” Ekko replied gently. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

Jinx didn’t respond right away. Instead, she looked out at the city again, her expression thoughtful. Slowly, she relaxed, the tension in her shoulders easing as she leaned into the moment. Into him.

“I’m scared, Ekko,” she whispered, so softly that he almost didn’t hear it. “I’m scared that I’m too broken. That I’ve lost too much.”

Ekko’s heart clenched at her words, but he didn’t hesitate. He reached out, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. She stiffened at first, unused to the comfort, but then she let herself lean into him, her head resting on his shoulder.

“You’re not broken,” he said softly, his voice steady. “You’re hurt, yeah. But that doesn’t mean you can’t heal.”

They sat like that for a long time, the weight of the world melting away as they shared the silence. For the first time in what felt like years, Jinx—no, Powder—let herself feel safe. It wasn’t perfect, and it wouldn’t fix everything overnight. But in that moment, she wasn’t the chaos she had become. She was just a girl, sitting beside someone who still cared about her, despite everything.

And that was enough.

For now.

[lifefragments]

Fading Echoes

Pairing: Jayce Talis x Reader Inspired by: Line Without a Hook by Ricky Montgomery Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

The cold wind whistled through Piltover’s gleaming streets as you wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, trying to hold in the chill that crept down your spine. The city was alive tonight, shimmering under the glow of progress and innovation, but your world felt frozen in time, locked somewhere between hope and despair. Somewhere between Jayce... and the pieces of your shattered heart.

It had started so beautifully. Jayce, the golden boy of Piltover, a hero, a visionary, the man with dreams too big for anyone but himself. And somehow, in the midst of his sky-high ambitions and his radiant success, he'd found you. You, an ordinary person who had never quite imagined being swept into the world of Piltover’s Council. But there you were—his confidant, his lover, his anchor.

But anchors have a way of weighing people down.

“Jayce…” Your voice barely rose above a whisper as you stood in his workshop, watching him tinker with something that had more of his attention than you did. He had been distant lately, even more so than usual. His eyes, once so full of warmth, now seemed colder—distracted by the endless pursuit of progress.

He didn’t hear you. Or maybe he did, but chose not to respond. Either way, it felt the same—like you were invisible in the bright halo of his dreams.

You walked closer, the clanking of his tools becoming louder, more oppressive in the silence that stretched between you two. You reached out, your fingers lightly brushing his arm. That finally caught his attention. He turned to face you, his expression somewhere between surprise and frustration.

“What is it?” he asked, voice clipped, as if you were interrupting something vital. And maybe you were. Everything in his life felt more important than you now.

“I… I miss you.” The words tumbled out before you could stop them. Your heart ached with the weight of everything left unsaid, everything you had been holding in for so long. “You’re always here, but… I feel like you’re not really here anymore.”

Jayce’s brows furrowed. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been so busy. The Council’s been breathing down my neck, and Heimerdinger—”

“It’s not about them, Jayce,” you interrupted, your voice trembling now. “It’s about us. When was the last time we actually talked? Really talked. When was the last time you looked at me like… like I wasn’t just another problem you had to solve?”

He flinched at your words, but the truth was too raw to hold back. You were tired—tired of being second to his ambitions, tired of feeling like you were standing on the sidelines, watching him build a future that seemed to have no place for you in it.

“I’m trying to make this world better,” Jayce said, his voice rising defensively. “I thought you understood that.”

“I do,” you said, the lump in your throat tightening. “But what’s the point of building a better world if you’re losing the people who love you along the way?”

He stared at you, his gaze unreadable. The silence between you stretched, filled with all the things neither of you wanted to say. You could see the conflict in his eyes—how he wanted to comfort you, but didn’t know how. How he wanted to reassure you, but was afraid of making promises he couldn’t keep.

“I love you,” Jayce finally said, and it should have felt like a balm to your soul. But instead, it felt hollow. His words no longer had the weight they used to.

You shook your head, stepping back, away from the man you had once thought was your everything. “I know you do, Jayce. But love isn’t enough if you’re not here. If you’re always looking at the next step, the next invention, the next goal… where do I fit into that?”

“I’m doing this for us,” he insisted, his frustration mounting. “For the future we could have. For—”

“For your future,” you corrected, your voice cracking. “Not mine. You’re not doing this for us, Jayce. You’re doing this for you. And I don’t know if there’s room in your world for someone like me anymore.”

His eyes widened, and for a moment, you saw the boy he used to be—the one who had looked at you like you were his world. But that boy was gone, replaced by a man with too many burdens and not enough time to carry them all.

“Don’t say that,” Jayce whispered, reaching out to grab your hand. His fingers were cold against yours. “Please… don’t.”

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to fall into his arms and let him reassure you that everything would be okay. But you’d been doing that for too long—waiting for him to see you again, to choose you over his endless responsibilities. And you couldn’t keep waiting. Not anymore.

“I’m tired of being just a line without a hook, Jayce,” you said, pulling your hand away. “I love you, but I can’t keep pretending that this… whatever we have right now… is enough.”

Tears stung your eyes as you turned away, the weight of your decision crashing over you. You didn’t want to leave, but staying—staying would mean losing yourself, piece by piece, until there was nothing left of the person you used to be.

Jayce stood frozen, his hands trembling at his sides. “What do you want me to do?” he asked, his voice raw, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t heard in so long. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. I can fix this.”

You smiled sadly, tears slipping down your cheeks. “You can’t fix everything, Jayce. Not this.”

The silence that followed felt like the end of something you couldn’t quite name. And maybe it was. Maybe this was the moment you had both been avoiding for so long—the moment where you had to let go.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you turned and walked toward the door. Each step felt like it was breaking you, but staying would have broken you even more.

Jayce didn’t stop you. He just stood there, watching as you slipped away from him, just like all the things he thought he could hold onto forever.

And as you stepped out into the cold night, you couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever realize that the thing he had been searching for all along… had been right in front of him.

In the glow of Piltover’s endless progress, you walked away, your heart aching in time with the echoes of a love that had become nothing more than a line without a hook.

[lifefragments]

Fading Echoes

Pairing: Jayce Talis x Reader Inspired by: Line Without a Hook by Ricky Montgomery Genre: Angst, Hurt

The cold wind whistled through Piltover’s gleaming streets as you wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, trying to hold in the chill that crept down your spine. The city was alive tonight, shimmering under the glow of progress and innovation, but your world felt frozen in time, locked somewhere between hope and despair. Somewhere between Jayce... and the pieces of your shattered heart.

It had started so beautifully. Jayce, the golden boy of Piltover, a hero, a visionary, the man with dreams too big for anyone but himself. And somehow, in the midst of his sky-high ambitions and his radiant success, he'd found you. You, an ordinary person who had never quite imagined being swept into the world of Piltover’s Council. But there you were—his confidant, his lover, his anchor.

But anchors have a way of weighing people down.

“Jayce…” Your voice barely rose above a whisper as you stood in his workshop, watching him tinker with something that had more of his attention than you did. He had been distant lately, even more so than usual. His eyes, once so full of warmth, now seemed colder—distracted by the endless pursuit of progress.

He didn’t hear you. Or maybe he did, but chose not to respond. Either way, it felt the same—like you were invisible in the bright halo of his dreams.

You walked closer, the clanking of his tools becoming louder, more oppressive in the silence that stretched between you two. You reached out, your fingers lightly brushing his arm. That finally caught his attention. He turned to face you, his expression somewhere between surprise and frustration.

“What is it?” he asked, voice clipped, as if you were interrupting something vital. And maybe you were. Everything in his life felt more important than you now.

“I… I miss you.” The words tumbled out before you could stop them. Your heart ached with the weight of everything left unsaid, everything you had been holding in for so long. “You’re always here, but… I feel like you’re not really here anymore.”

Jayce’s brows furrowed. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been so busy. The Council’s been breathing down my neck, and Heimerdinger—”

“It’s not about them, Jayce,” you interrupted, your voice trembling now. “It’s about us. When was the last time we actually talked? Really talked. When was the last time you looked at me like… like I wasn’t just another problem you had to solve?”

He flinched at your words, but the truth was too raw to hold back. You were tired—tired of being second to his ambitions, tired of feeling like you were standing on the sidelines, watching him build a future that seemed to have no place for you in it.

“I’m trying to make this world better,” Jayce said, his voice rising defensively. “I thought you understood that.”

“I do,” you said, the lump in your throat tightening. “But what’s the point of building a better world if you’re losing the people who love you along the way?”

He stared at you, his gaze unreadable. The silence between you stretched, filled with all the things neither of you wanted to say. You could see the conflict in his eyes—how he wanted to comfort you, but didn’t know how. How he wanted to reassure you, but was afraid of making promises he couldn’t keep.

“I love you,” Jayce finally said, and it should have felt like a balm to your soul. But instead, it felt hollow. His words no longer had the weight they used to.

You shook your head, stepping back, away from the man you had once thought was your everything. “I know you do, Jayce. But love isn’t enough if you’re not here. If you’re always looking at the next step, the next invention, the next goal… where do I fit into that?”

“I’m doing this for us,” he insisted, his frustration mounting. “For the future we could have. For—”

“For your future,” you corrected, your voice cracking. “Not mine. You’re not doing this for us, Jayce. You’re doing this for you. And I don’t know if there’s room in your world for someone like me anymore.”

His eyes widened, and for a moment, you saw the boy he used to be—the one who had looked at you like you were his world. But that boy was gone, replaced by a man with too many burdens and not enough time to carry them all.

“Don’t say that,” Jayce whispered, reaching out to grab your hand. His fingers were cold against yours. “Please… don’t.”

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to fall into his arms and let him reassure you that everything would be okay. But you’d been doing that for too long—waiting for him to see you again, to choose you over his endless responsibilities. And you couldn’t keep waiting. Not anymore.

“I’m tired of being just a line without a hook, Jayce,” you said, pulling your hand away. “I love you, but I can’t keep pretending that this… whatever we have right now… is enough.”

Tears stung your eyes as you turned away, the weight of your decision crashing over you. You didn’t want to leave, but staying—staying would mean losing yourself, piece by piece, until there was nothing left of the person you used to be.

Jayce stood frozen, his hands trembling at his sides. “What do you want me to do?” he asked, his voice raw, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t heard in so long. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. I can fix this.”

You smiled sadly, tears slipping down your cheeks. “You can’t fix everything, Jayce. Not this.”

The silence that followed felt like the end of something you couldn’t quite name. And maybe it was. Maybe this was the moment you had both been avoiding for so long—the moment where you had to let go.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you turned and walked toward the door. Each step felt like it was breaking you, but staying would have broken you even more.

Jayce didn’t stop you. He just stood there, watching as you slipped away from him, just like all the things he thought he could hold onto forever.

And as you stepped out into the cold night, you couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever realize that the thing he had been searching for all along… had been right in front of him.

In the glow of Piltover’s endless progress, you walked away, your heart aching in time with the echoes of a love that had become nothing more than a line without a hook.