#jayce would be terrified either way

[heraldeez]

Fright Night

Jayce x Reader | 4.4K | NSFW

Warning/Tags: fingering, cock warming, unprotected PnV, multiple orgasms, light overstimulation, and a tiiiny bit of Jayce bullying

Jayce can’t handle horror. Like, at all. You, on the other hand, are an absolute horror buff – so with false bravado, he agrees to a scary movie night.

A/N: Call this fic fondue, with the way it’s dripping cheese.

Happy pre-Halloween, everyone! I’m an absolute Halloween enthusiast, so the dialogue and premise in this one are super cheesy and self indulgent. Tis the season. 🎃

Technically I came up with the bones for this one all the way back in May/June-ish (wdym you aren’t plotting for Halloween before summer even starts? 🤔) and had a little chuckle when my months old concept lined up perfectly with the Arcane Halloweek prompt for day two, Scary Movies.

As always, a big thanks to my discord beloveds for peering over my shoulder to hype me up about Jayce’s balls.

Enjoy! :]

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“Does it have to be scary scary?” Jayce whines, already hiding in your shoulder. “Couldn’t we just… I don’t know, watch Halloween Town or something? Or, ooh, Hocus Pocus. That’s scary!”

“Absolutely not.” Your answer is swift and buoyant, an unambiguous negative to both the movie suggestion and the implication that Hocus Pocus was a genuinely scary film, not looking away from where you’re flicking through the streaming menus. October has finally rolled around, and you aren’t going to let the occasion go uncelebrated.

The screen rolls through movie after movie, flicking to the next, judging them based on a highly important personal merit system – including deeply sophisticated metrics, such as how much fake gore they had budget for or how many times you’d get to joke with Jayce about the tits on screen.

“It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown?” Jayce tries weakly. He already knows your answer.

Your grin is sharp as you stumble over a promising new release, and Jayce groans when you select it, the trailer beginning an eerie musical score as you flip through the confirmation screen.

“You said you could handle it when I asked you to have a scary movie night, Jayce,” you tut, good naturedly. “Where’d all that bravado go?”

Leaping to your feet – startling your boyfriend in the process, who makes his displeasure known immediately with a high-pitched noise of malcontent and some extremely dignified grabby hands, reaching for your retreating form – you stalk over to the lightswitch and cast the room into darkness, only the dim flickering of the television screen lighting up your adorable boyfriend.

“Oh, come on – really?” Jayce snaked his arms anxiously around a pillow in your absence, cotton squishing under his thick biceps.

You tug it from his grip and toss it over the back of the couch playfully, plopping down next to him and drawing him tight up against your side before he can lament your pillow-related cruelty.

You blow the screen a teasing kiss. “It’s October 1st, baby. Gotta set the ambience correctly, or Halloween won’t bless us with good candy this year.”

Jayce wraps his arms tight around your waist, whole body curling around you with his cheek squished into your shoulder. You can hear him grumble about how you’re adults who buy their own candy, so what does it matter, but you don’t deign that fact with a response.

The grip he has on you only tightens as the movie starts.

It’s not the scariest thing you’ve seen, honestly a rather slow start, but Jayce gets twitchier with every passing second, huddling against you like he’s trying to envelope you as an anchor.

He’s honestly so endearing. It’s cute how his large frame is clinging like he’ll blow away in the breeze, built arms squeezing you tight.

If you were more the fraidy cat type, his protective weight would probably feel like heaven, the world’s most secure blanket. You rub soothing fingers over the sculpted curve of his forearm, and feel the way his jaw settles heavier onto your shoulder, relaxing just a fraction.

The movie is only half an hour in, and at this point, you’re tilted up against the arm of the couch after all his leaning, snuggled into some kind of cozy-cramped, sideways, halfway upright spooning position – your frightened puppy of a boyfriend peeping out over your shoulder and trying to press every inch of himself to you.

The dim atmosphere on screen seems to be getting to him, because nothing has even happened yet. But when the music swells, you can feel him go tenser than a steel rod, anticipation building on screen as the camera slowly pans closer and closer to the darkened alleyway.

Jayce shrieks when the movie finally gets on with it.

And of course, it’s just a cheap scare, revealing only a raccoon out behind the cursed house, the ignorant characters all laughing with relief. Nothing scary here.

You figured the director would pull something like that. This movie was really not in a hurry, for being less than two hours long.

Jayce doesn’t seem particularly comforted. “Whew, haha, that uh –” His breathing is legitimately choppy. You side eye him and find he’s covered his eyes with his hand. “That creature sure was scary!”

“It was a raccoon.”

“It – huh?”

“Look at the screen.”

His other arm tightens around you at the thought, Jayce laughing nervously. “I’m uh. I’m good behind here, actually.”

You’re struggling not to laugh. “Can’t really consider that watching a movie with me, can you?”

Jayce’s lips purse, fumbling for a retort, before he deflates against you just a bit. 

His fingers part just a crack, peeking whip-quick like the screen is going to bite him.

The raccoon stares back at him with beady eyes, chittering before darting into the woods, leaving the actors in peace.

Your boyfriend is silent for a beat. “Those things carry rabies, you know. That’s, uh, very scary. Ninety-nine percent fatal, if you don’t get vaccinated in time.”

Well. You suppose that is a certain type of scary.

You give him a reassuring smooch on the jaw, and as expected, his hand shifts to the side, hovering off to the right of his head so he can lean in to capture your lips.

You capture his hand hostage in return, poor Jayce whining into the kiss.

“Quit hiding, nothing scary is going to get you with me right here,” you chastise lightly.

Your lips press a firm kiss to his ensnared hand, interrupting his plaintive, high pitched, “But babe.”

The dilation of his pupils as your lips linger, breath puffing against his fingers, gives you the best idea.

“You want a distraction, sweetheart?” you ask, voice low and conspiratorial.

Caught off guard at your change of heart, Jayce gives a hesitant nod.

“Good. I have better uses for these hands, you know.”

With a final, lingering kiss to his palm, you thread your fingers through his and guide them down, past where he’s clinging to your waist with his other hand, to toy at the waistband of your pants.

His hand flexes with anticipation, but he doesn’t try to rush you. Satisfied, you press underneath, dragging him below both your waistband and panties to cup at your sex.

It must be apparent to Jayce the moment he touches you, that you’d been a bit excited ever since he got home. He’d immediately pulled you in, the scent of his cologne and the brisk fall air embedded in his coat wrapping around you as he leaned down for an indulgent kiss, pouring every ounce of how much he’d missed you into the way he moved his tongue. It had set the tone for the evening, really, flaring warmth in your core.

Sure you were thrilled to have a cozy date night watching scary movies and enjoying each other’s company, but you’d be lying if you hadn’t also been boiling with anticipation for a more intimate encounter as well.

Jayce genuinely groans when his index nudges against your slit, parting your folds to slip against where your arousal has been accumulating. With how he’d pressed so close for the past half hour, holding you tight, it was hard… to not get a little worked up.

“Fuck,” he breathes, fingers squirming further. “You’re so… fuck.”

“I beg your pardon?” you laugh.

“Perfect,” he slurs, mouthing at the side of your neck. He spreads you, gently, and it’s almost embarrassing when your arousal is legitimately audible. You can feel it slipping against your fingers, still twined with his. “So perfect, already dripping for me like that.”

You hum, breathless and noncommittal. “Maybe I get off on poorly written scripts and budget masked killers, hm?”

“Ha ha,” he deadpans.

Jayce’s unamused act would be perfectly believable if not for the raggedy edge to his breathing, or how his fingers scrub a needy circle over your clit before they skate down, dipping just slightly into your hole, playing in the arousal pooled there.

Jayce sucks in a shaky breath. “Hang on, just, uh, give me one second.”

Pulling his fingers out is the last thing you expect Jayce to do, but he does.

Jayce holds your clasped hands up to the faint light from the screen, admiring the way your slick is glistening visibly on his fingerpads, humming low and appreciative.

He shifts, entranced, jaw coming forward to lean past your shoulder, and then he’s guiding your fingers to his lips.

It’s impossible not to stare as he slips them past, into his mouth, slick digits disappearing past plush lips. Tongue curling around your fingertip, laving the flavor of you from the whorls of your skin, eyes lidded in pleasure.

The moment is made all the more intense by the fact that he’s staring back as you watch him, simmering gaze focused wholly on you as he hollows his cheeks and sucks, drawing in your taste and moaning for it.

The vibrations reverberate from your fingers straight into your crotch.

He huffs amusedly through his nose when your hips shift restlessly, a spike of arousal making you squirm back against him.

It’s not like you can’t feel the answering press of his erection, butted up against your hip.

He switches your fingers for his own, tongue curling in a way that’s embarrassingly distracting. His fingers are slick for a few reasons, at this point.

And then they’re traveling back down to slip headlong between your folds, eager to reenter your slick cunt. His spit drags over your clit as he slides the furrow of his pressed together fingers across it, reaching lower. Jayce sinks his middle and ring in deep, palm rubbing against where you need it most.

Lips trail blissfully against your neck as he sets a lazy rhythm with his wrist, fingers rocking into you deep. Jayce sighs a blissful “taste so good” into your skin, nuzzling closer like he can’t get enough skin pressed against you, despite being literally inside you.

His fingers slow, briefly. Soft lips brush against your ear as he opens his mouth, and –

“Wanna eat you out.”

Jayce’s tone is hovering somewhere between whiny and worshipful.

“Mm, and then you wouldn’t be watching the movie, now would you?” Your hand curls around the curve of his bicep, ignoring his noise of disagreement. “Later, yeah? If you can manage this for me.”

A breathy groan falls from his lips at the prospect, nodding placated against your shoulder.

You’d offered him a distraction to make the experience more fun for him, but now you’re finding yourself distracted by him. The film can’t hold a candle to the way his thick fingers are opening you up thoroughly, the way his jaw rests on your shoulder, facing the screen like a good boy, yet eyes glazed over, probably taking in next to nothing.

Still, he was behaving for you. He was good like that, even if you could feel each time he swallowed, not the slightest bit unaffected by what you were allowing him to do between your legs, mouth dry.

You knew damn well what he’d like to wet it with.

Jayce slides in a third finger, moaning gently at the noise you make for the stretch. He thrusts them a few times to appreciate the slick noises that you can’t help, before he settles for a toe-curling screwing motion, tips of his fingers flirting over your nerves like an ignition spark.

All the more distracting was the heavy weight of his cock, jutting unmistakably against you through his gray sweats. Waiting patiently – but you could feel the way it flexed at each noise you made for him.

He really was being so good for you.

“Put it in.”

“Mmm?” comes Jayce’s distracted response, zenned out and completely entranced in the feeling of your slick pooling around the base of his fingers.

He snaps back to focus on your words when you reach over your hip to cup him through his sweatpants, palm rolling against his shaft while your fingertips wriggle a hair between his legs, rubbing teasingly against his balls.

“You with me now, handsome?”

“Yeah!” His voice cracks a little in his haste to get the word out, clearing his throat with an embarrassed chuckle, “‘M with you. Totally understood, loud and clear.” Jayce scrambles to get his hands in position to rid himself of his pants, fast as possible, but it’s not exactly smooth with one hand trapped beneath your waist and the other still inside you.

You catch his wrists, holding him in place.

“Please, allow me,” you purr, enjoying the way he lets himself be manipulated into whatever position you want him in, unquestioning in his eagerness. His fingers curl a bit where they’re buried, but otherwise he stops moving a muscle.

Your own fingers slip from his wrist and pluck teasingly at the drawstring of the soft heathered pants, before dragging one side over the warm, smooth skin of his hip.

No underwear.

“Hmm, somebody was hopeful. Looking for a treat?”

Jayce laughs nervously, fingers pulsing a little deeper, palm butting up against your folds. “Well, I mean. Maybe, y’know, a little, yeah.”

Unhurried, you guide his cock out of the fabric folds, bouncing slightly as it’s exposed to air, and ghost featherlight fingers against the tip.

They come away deliciously sticky. Teasing him is just too fun.

“What do you say, Jayce, to get a treat on Halloween?” You ask, voice innocent and sugary sweet.

“Wh- come on, really?” he complains, hips nudging into your hold impatiently.

You hum expectantly, angling the head of his cock to rub against his own fingers, still tucked snugly inside of you.

He sighs heavily, laying his forehead on your shoulder in defeat.

You can’t help but laugh when he clumsily taps the head of his cock against your entrance in a pointed one-two beat, obviously mimicking a “knock knock” motion.

“... Trick or treat,” he grumbles.

“Go on then, help yourself,” you reply, bubbly and committed to the bit. The responding snort of laughter against your shoulder is by far the sweetest thing in the room, though.

Eager to a fault, the speed which Jayce pulls his fingers from your cunt echoes with a depravedly wet noise, teasing an aroused groan from his lips. His fingers go from your entrance to his cock in about half a second, wet fingers rubbing your slick into the soft, sensitive skin of his frenulum with a pleased sigh.

So caught up in physical pleasure, you both had all but forgotten the movie playing on screen as Jayce lines himself up, sinking in a mere half inch.

The speakers erupt with a shrill peal, soundtrack heightening with the mounting horror of the plot, and startles the both of you – Jayce jerking forward to cling to you and shoving himself forward in your cunt a few inches all at once, whine tearing from his throat.

Heart rate finally up, you let out a breathless laugh, eyelids fluttering at the sensation dragging against your walls.

“Sorry,” Jayce chokes, “I – fuck – I wasn’t expecting that, I just – You alright?”

The concern is so sweet, and so completely unnecessary.

“I am so good,” you sigh, breathy and pleased, reveling in the heat pooling between your hips at the adrenaline and slight roughhousing. “Keep going.”

Jayce’s right hand comes up to cup your chest, both arms now wrapped around you, peering down the length of your body to see where he’s filling you up, hips forging a much more gradual slide into your slick heat.

“Keep watching the screen, Jayce.”

He swallows audibly as your fingers curl around his jaw, pulling him back up to the movie.

Your hand drops to rest over his, the rough press of his callouses against your nipple making you shiver. They’re still wet from being buried in your pussy. His fingers flex, unconsciously squeezing as he bottoms out, happy trail scratching lightly against your skin.

And naturally, you wriggle your hips back against him, pinning him more firmly between you and the couch.

“Stay right there,” you whisper. “Let me keep you warm.”

In contrast, Jayce shivers against you, nodding desperately. “Yeah, yes, fuck. Whatever you want, baby, I – please.”

The thick, leaking head of his cock is rubbing decadently against the front of your pussy, pressing against the spot that makes you want to scream his praises.

But if he can exercise his best restraint to please you, the least you can do is follow through. Snuggling your back against his chest and giving his hand a reassuring squeeze, you turn your gaze back to the movie, content to tease him until its end. More of the gritty tale ticks by, minute after minute, in comfortable stillness.

It’s warm, wrapped up in his arms. Feels good to just zone, soaking in the way he’s hard and leaking inside you. You’re content to sit here all night, wrapped up in each other, just surrounded by his heat and scent and soft skin.

But the next jumpscare gets you good.

It’s so perfectly paced, hitting just as the plot is pulling you back in, leaning forward in your improvised seat with each unfolding detail. A spray of fake gore tears across the screen as the way you thought things were going is brought to a horrific end, grating noise filling your living room when the killer makes another appearance for the unfortunate group on screen.

Exciting, startling, and perfectly executed – the scare has all your muscles tensing up in shock, gasp tearing from your throat.

It’s enough to have even you, the proclaimed horror lover, reeling back to put some distance between yourself and the shocking display.

Not that there’s much room for you to jerk back, considering the wall of warm, tense muscle currently wrapped around your back, trembling like a chihuahua.

Jayce had let out a squeak that you’d chalked up as terror in moment of the jumpscare, but as his hips give a tiny jerk against your own, cock throbbing where it’s buried in you, you aren’t so certain.

And when it dawns on you, how tightly you had just clenched your entire body at the fright, a wicked grin spreads across your face. How tight you must have clenched around him, how heavenly that must have felt despite the torment his brain was taking from the screen.

Surreptitiously, you shift your thighs and shove your hips even closer back to his, truly stuffed on each and every inch of his cock.

So when the killer next flits across the screen, delivering another bloody death, you clench hard. Purely in fear, of course.

Jayce chokes on air behind you, thighs flexing against yours as he buries his face in your shoulder.

“Ah ah, none of that.” Your fingers pull gently at his jaw, coaxing his gaze back to the screen. “You wouldn’t want to miss any of the scary bits, they’re the best part.”

As if on cue, a blood curdling scream rings out from the surround sound, accompanied by a toe curling flex of your internal muscles, dragging a wrecked groan from your boyfriend’s throat.

He stays obediently watching though, ragged breaths drawing in the scent of you, hips shifting restlessly with the urge to thrust, to rut into you until he comes.

You coo, adoring, at his good behavior, stroking sugar sweet in reward through his stubble.

And so the game begins, an endless tease where he cannot thrust, but must wait for the movie to torture him to receive the mindnumbing clench of your cunt around him, like some sort of perverse Pavlovian training.

Somebody dies?

Clench.

Killer emerges from the shadows, music swelling shrilly in horror?

Clench.

You pinch his side suddenly, for a bit of amusement, shocking a yelp out of him?

Vice tight clench, drawn out with a small rock of your hips, as a treat.

The movie slides past the three quarters mark, violence and horror peaking, and Jayce is an insensate mess behind you, clutching tight.

The firm hand cupping your chest squeezes instinctively at each scare, his other arm locked like rebar over your waist, clinging to his soft barrier between the scary screen and himself.

You can feel him throbbing consistently, breath ragged, and as you continue to flex around him to the violence unfolding on screen, Jayce breaks.

Throat working around a shocked cry, his hips buck sporadically in the narrow space on the couch, eyes rolling back as he fills you up. Each drag of his cock slips tantalizingly over the sensitive portion of your front walls, painting it with his release as the thick tip firmly skates against it on each push in.

Not enough to get you there, but enough to drive you wild.

Enough to make you want more.

His moans trail into sweet whimpers, nuzzling into your shoulder, blissed out and pleasure drunk.

And said whimpers pitch up, confused and surprised and pinched with overstimulation as you continue to shift your hips, squeezing him tight as the killer on screen brandishes a weapon.

“Hold still, puppy – you’re going to keep being good for me.”

You don’t phrase it as a request.

Jayce gulps, nodding anyway.

Your hand traces over your clit, only the slight tremor of your fingers betraying your excitement.

It’s wet, your slick pooling around the base of his cock, and even more, the viscosity of Jayce’s come beginning to spill out coats your fingers.

You grind a borderline too-hard circle into your clit, hips twitching at the pleasure-pain spark.

Jayce is in a similar boat, breath catching in his throat as your cunt drags overstimulation down the length of his shaft, shiver wracking his core.

“Lemme – fuck, I wanna make you feel good, let me make you feel good, babe –” His hand fumbles down to bat yours out of the way, his index finger rubbing sweetly over your clit.

You’re in no shape to complain, heat curling in the cradle of your hips, pleasure stoking you towards orgasm once more.

His fingers are big. Rough from metalworking, but gentle in their touch. They feel divine, as his fingers part to stroke in tight lines on either side of your clit, cock still stretching you out.

Impatience is getting the better of you, and you rock your hips, searching for the last push to make your brain go blank.

And you find it, pressing the head of Jayce’s cock into the sensitive spot at the front of your walls. The pressure forces a moan from your throat, body going tight and relaxing by turn as you teeter on edge.

Jayce chokes at the renewed movement, curling tight to your back, gritting out little protests, “I can’t, I can’t, please.”

But his fingers never falter, twisting against you the way he knows you like best.

You’ve never been one to let a good deed go unpunished.

“You can,” you pant, hand shooting up to thread fingers through his hair. Dirty move, considering what that does to him.

The pleasure you gain from his shocked cry is almost as visceral as the physical feeling of his fingers and cock, honestly. He melts under a little manhandling, cock twitching inside you.

Your hips can only move so far, stuck sideways on the couch, but you’re making use of every inch, rocking back onto him to hear him keen for you.

Jayce whines when you yank his hair unthinkingly, nerves bound up in stimulation, and pleasure licks up your spine when his hips buck to meet yours.

One –

Two –

A third direct strike over your sensitive inner walls, and the pleasure broadens to a cascade, your orgasm finally tipping over to grip you tight.

Distantly, you can hear Jayce whimper as you clench tight in the throes of pleasure, hips squirming back against him, punching little ahs from your throat with each bump of the head of his cock.

It’s good enough to make your brain go fuzzy, breaths clawing down your throat as your head tips back to rest on his shoulder, final pangs of bliss rattling through your core, making you spasm around him.

Jayce’s grip on you is tight, breathing labored, leaking cock still needy.

You clasp your free hand with one of his, locked over your torso, and drag him in by the hair, breaths mingling as your lips hover the barest distance from his.

“You did perfect, Jayce, stop holding back. Spill for me, c’mon, I know you have it in you –”

You can taste Jayce’s devastated wail, his hand flexing in yours as he comes again.

His knee jerks out only to wrap tight around your legs, whole body curling tight around you as his muscles protest the overstimulation. Arms a rigid band, chest sealed to your back, squishing you with his pleasure.

Most intoxicating is the flex of his cock, filling you to overflowing in hot pulses.

Sticky, sweet, everything you could possibly want and more.

He goes lax against you as the orgasm finally lets him go, entire weight squashing you into the couch cushions.

It’s adorable. You run a soothing hand through his hair, cooing his praises and allowing him to nuzzle into your neck, wordless pleased noises uttered into the strands of your hair as he catches his breath. Large hands run over your skin clumsily, appreciating you right back, despite his current lack of a brain.

Finally, you extricate yourself slowly, carefully, breath coming out in a rush as his cock slips free, pulling a final whimper from your lover. You stand to stretch, taking care not to leak, and turn so you can look him over.

Jayce’s cheeks are rosy. You’ll have to fetch him some water, you note, admiring the mess of his hair, the shine of sweat on his biceps.

You lean in to press a sweet kiss to the tip of his nose.

“So, what do you think? Is the genre starting to grow on you?”

Jayce looks somewhere between harrowed and fucked out, gaze kinda spacey. But he gives you a wobbly half thumbs up.

You hum mischievously. “That’s good to hear, because I’m pretty sure we’re going to have to rewatch this one, I kinda missed the ending –”

“You – oh, fuck no,” Jayce can barely say through breathless laughter, burying his face in the couch cushion.

[liliumsabyss]

Your being

FEM DNI, I SWEAR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED ESPECIALLY WITH THIS

Viktor(Arcane) x FTM! Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Tw: Mentions of Dysphoria, Mentions of being ashamed for being trans, some self-hate, Reader is on T, Reader is Pre-Top Surgery but is getting it, Needles, maybe ooc Viktor(?), The word trans is never used it is always referred to as “this”(makes sense in the context), Viktor got cured

A/n: HAPPY TRANS VISIBILITY DAY! Yes I know I am a little late on this but I still wanted to put something out there as a trans guy. This fic is based on a lot of my own emotions with being trans and how it’s caused me to view myself but also how I’ve grown from my past views of myself causing me to not be ashamed of myself and just let myself be me. And if anyone wants to hear any funny stories from my trans ass I would be more than willing to share them as there is a surplus. So to all my fellow trans masculine folks I hope you enjoy this fic and I wish the best to all of you!<3

In the midst of pursuing the hexacore and building hextech with Jayce, Viktor had met you, a bookstore owner from the rim in which Piltover and Zaun met. You were far more intelligent than being a bookstore owner would let on but didn’t show it off not even being aware that you had it causing Viktor to take on an immediate liking to you as he would peruse through the bookstore on his way to the lab in the early mornings when nothing yet your shop was open. The two of you had become quick friends and then eventually lovers and then you found yourselves sharing an apartment for what you two tried to excuse as for “financial reasons” even though you both knew it to not be true. Your relationship had been built on trust which didn’t come easy for either of you and yet you had kept something to yourself for all the time you had been together you didn’t know why, you weren’t ashamed of it itself, but you guessed you were ashamed in your mind that it would never be the same after Viktor would know. So it was your secret you kept, Viktor never verbally questioned why would would sleep with your shirt on, why you would use a bathrobe instead of a towel, why anytime physical intimacy started to “heat up” you’d awkwardly would put an end to it, why some days you’d sneer at anything that had a glossy enough surface to see your reflection, why you’d have to stab yourself with a needle full of some mysterious medicine(of course in the beginning he did question that one in concerns of your health and safety) and other attributes that for most men wouldn’t make sense. And you were so thankful for that so you kept your secret you knew it would never last but being with Viktor was sweet bliss so you’d enjoy it while it lasted. However you got a letter in the mail regarding top surgery you had spent years saving up for it your hands shook opening the letter terrified of what the surgeon had wrote and reading it you dropped it on the desk, heart surging, tears starting to well out of your eyes, and a huge smile found its way onto your face. They said yes. They said yes. The approval of the surgery. You’d finally be rid of the flesh on your chest that you so much anguish, the flesh that you detested would be replaced by two scars that would mark your struggle and victory. But as you checked the time you realized you were going to be late opening the shop you quickly stuffed the letter in the desk not thinking much about it running off being sure to lock the door behind you racing down the squeaky hallways.

Hours later Viktor arrived home shockingly early for him, you hadn’t even been home yet the reason he was home is he realized that while working on the hexacore he had some papers in the desk that could assist. He briskly walked over to the desk, his cane letting out soft sharp thuds against the wooden ground arriving at the desk. He opened the drawer and grabbed the papers without a thought rushing back to the lab even though it caused a thrumming pain in his leg. At the lab he slowly sat down in the wooden rolling chair he sifted through the papers reading each one carefully under the little lamp desk till he arrived at a letter confused. He read the first line and his heart dropped. It read your name and the words “ your surgery has been approved”. Viktor immediately stood upwards stumbling forgetting to grab his can but using the desk as support. He didn’t read past the first line but he knew what it meant or at least what he thought it meant. He grabbed his cane hurdling himself out of the lab barely remembering to lock it behind him he headed towards the apartment you both had called home, he knew at this time you’d be there. And he knew you, he knew that you would only get surgery that was essential to you which in his mind left only one possibility you were dying or could die without the surgery which broke his heart. Why would you keep something like that from him, especially knowing that once too he was a dying man. It also hurt him that it felt like you couldn’t rely upon him he would gladly pay for it then and one hundred times over after all hextech did make him and Jayce more wealthy and even then he could emotionally support you, be an anchor if you needed it. He wobbled up the uneven stairs and down the hall of the apartment building quickly unlocking the wooden oak door to your home while still having the letter in hand. Opening the door he saw you sitting on the couch curled up reading a book. He barged through the door slamming it behind him making you aware of his presence.

 “ Hey Vik-“ You started to say before getting cut off by Viktor.

“ What is this?” He said sharply holding up the letter in his free hand giving it a slight shake angrily. Your eyes became as wide as saucers staring at the letter in his hand with fear as you bolted upwards your hands out in front of you ready to explain everything ready for your relationship to be over.

“ Look I can explain-“ You started once again before once again being cut off by the other male quite harshly.

“ How can you explain this?! How can you justify hiding this?!” Viktor responded bitterly, his tongue cutting sharp like knives.

“ I’m sorry I didn’t think it would ever get this far-“ You tried to say before Viktor interrupted.

“ You didn’t think it would get this far?! And what you're sorry you didn’t tell me you are dying!” He seethed out wrapped up in his emotions too wrapped up to notice the confused expression on your face.

“ I'm sorry, what?” You said dumbfounded and in utter confusion of his statement. Only saying this caused him to go on a rant about how could you not tell him and other statements along those lines. You went into your headspace trying to figure out what in the actual hell this conversation was about only to think about it more. Quickly you caught onto the fact that Viktor has always respected your privacy but a he must’ve accidentally come across the letter as it had been in the desk with some of his papers and had read it stopping after the first line for the sake of your privacy but also worry.

“ Viktor,” you started out sternly trying to make your voice as flat as possible. “ Viktor read the entire letter.”

Viktor just went silent his face still held bits of grief and anger but sure enough he looked down reading the letter his face remaining the same till you figured he came across the line “ the consultation before your chest masculinization subcutaneous mastectomy will be held on the date xx/xx/xxxx if you have any concerns or need to reschedule please respond back.” Viktors face softened with realization of your avoidance of being shirtless, or just naked in front of him for that matter yet unreadable as he finished the letter. He looked up at you. You thought you would be terrified and yet you felt relieved but you also felt grief mourning the relationship which you had thrived in wither away because of what you are.

“ I am sorry I lied to you, I'll pack my stuff and stay at the store.” You started remorsefully, your head hanging low, refusing to look at him chewing at your bottom lip in stress. The sound of his cane thumping across the floor matched your heartbeat and when he stopped in front of you the thumping stopped with both his cane and your heart. You almost jerked at the feeling of his strong thin hand that was placed on your shoulder waiting a second to see if you’d push his hand away from your shoulder to which you didn’t he stepped even closer sliding his arm around you holding you against his chest lightly to not scare you. While Viktor was touch starved it was often you who took charge grabbing his hand, pulling him into hugs and kisses all sorts of intimate moments but when he did take the lead it meant something it was his way of telling you that he loved you. And you could tell exactly what he was doing here embracing you gently enough where you could pull away at any moment if you so desired but hard enough where it anchored you there in that moment with him. 

“ You never lied, and I am sorry my love I just worry for you.” The brunette male Sid squeezes you slightly for your comfort or maybe his own.

“ I am sorry I kept this from you but how can you still love me after knowing about this” you said wildly gesturing to your body still in VIktors embrace.

“ Because I love your entire being and this is a part of you so I love it as well.” VIktor stated warmly as if the sentiment was basic logic. But that’s exactly what you loved about Viktor is that to him his compassion, his love was just basic logic yet any other person would actually struggle to empathize and love at his level. And with the statement any of that shame that festered in you seeped out maybe not completely but you at least knew that you didn’t have to feel ashamed of it.

“ I love you so much Viktor.” You said squeezing you arms around him you could sense he flushed at the statemeant while he could say the sweetest phrases that mean ten times more than I love you to other people he himself could barely hear an “ I love you” without flushing and stammering. 

“ And I you. And if you need me by your side I will be there.” He said squeezing you back the two of you standing there in the middle of your home just enjoying each other's embrace soaking in the love for one another. 

[lullabyes22-blog]

do you think mel is ever so charmed by jayce or silco that she sometimes forgets that they are still men😭 or maybe she has moments of admiration for either of the two and then they do something that just snaps her back into reality.

Often

:)

With Jayce, it's equal parts endearing and exasperating how he is, well, Jayce. She thinks it's charming when he's all eager to please and earnest in his goals, but it's also frustration incarnate whenever he tries to bulldoze his way through every problem. He has trouble comprehending that the world isn't black and white, that sometimes, shades of gray and degrees of compromise are necessary to reach a common goal. It's a bit akin to the man who never stops to take directions, despite having nothing but an incomplete map and an old compass.

Mel's usually capable of guiding him in those situations, with a little coaxing and cajoling. But she can't help but wonder what it'd be like if he could be more flexible on his own, and not just reactive but proactive about finding sensible alternatives. She's invested in seeing him flourish, as a wise leader, not just as a one-dimensional crusader, and sometimes she dreads that his tenacity might just lead him to his death.

 Beyond that, he's got so many manchild traits, it's a miracle she doesn't strangle him some days. He's like a big puppy, all clumsy enthusiasm and cluelessness, and Mel's often left cleaning up his messes.  In his defense, he does try, and he can be incredibly sweet and thoughtful when he wants to.  Mel still remembers the first time he'd learnt she has a fondness for Shuriman jaggery candy from her girlhood, and he'd looked far and wide through Piltover's bazaars to procure them for her, and had them gift-wrapped in her favorite colors, topped with a delicate gold bow.  Or the time she had mentioned that she'd never celebrated the Solstice Festival because of how busy she was, and Jayce had gone out of his way to clear both their schedules in advance, then taken her by the hand and led her out into the streets to see the lanterns.

He's not the suavest man she's ever met, but there's a sincerity to him that's rare to come by.

Sometimes, though, his good deeds have a tendency to bite him in the ass. Like the time he tried to do her paperwork without telling her, and ended up accidentally stamping her seal onto an application to Noxus' Institute of War.  Or the time he tried to make her Ionian-style tea and ended up burning the leaves, breaking her favorite teapot, and somehow managed to stain the kitchen wall. Or when he attempted to tidy up her workbench full of expensive imported paints, and instead spilled an entire bottle of turpentine, ruining all of the colors.

Moments like these, it's hard to remember the boy is a genius, and the Man of Tomorrow. He's just so Jayce sometimes, and she adores him, but gods above, how did he manage to get this far?

 Oh, right.

Thanks to her.

And then there's Silco.

Ah, Silco.

To call him a man of many virtues would be a grievous error. He is calculating, cunning, and absolutely ruthless. The man is a true force of nature, who's made a career of surviving, even when the odds have been stacked against him. He sees the world for what it is, and does not shy away from what needs to be done. Mel doesn't have to hold his hand, or nudge him in the right direction. His mind is a terrifying machine, and she can't help but be unnerved and fascinated whenever she sees the gears turning behind his good eye.

But in his private life, Silco is also...

Well, let's say, he can be a disaster.

He's older than her by a good decade, and it shows. He's extremely set in his ways, with habits set in stone and opinions formed by decades of rough living that will take at least another lifetime to wear off. He's accustomed to trusting only himself, and a few select people, which can be exasperating. He's also so secretive about everything - his plans, his past, his emotions - that it's a struggle to know what's going on in his head at any given day.

 Like Jayce, he's incredibly pigheaded. Unlike Jayce, he knows it - and doesn't give a damn.

He's a natural contrarian, who needles people as easily as breathing. He also doesn't have a problem owning it, and in his worst moments will say that he's earned the right to be an asshole, and to throw a wrench in the establishment's spokes, just to watch the sparks fly. Mel can count on one hand how many times he's devolved a diplomatic parley into a dispute with one incendiary remark, then sat back and relished the conflagration. Or how many times he's dropped a well-chosen barb at a dinner party, then strolled away while the rest of the table descends into chaos.

In short, he's an infernal bastard.

But, when he's committed, he can be incredibly devoted, loyal, and protective. He's always quick to come to her defense, whether it's against someone who's trying to cross her, or against someone who's merely annoyed her. He doesn't believe in half-measures. He'll either have your back, or cut the ties entirely, with no middle ground.

 And, when he's in a mood, he can be unexpectedly romantic.

He's got a keen memory, which means that he remembers everything Mel says and does. He knows all of her favorite scents, her favorite books, her favorite foods. He's also got a wicked adventurer's streak paired with an unerring sense of timing. Out of the blue, while she's mired in paperwork at the Council office, she'll receive a bouquet of freshly-bloomed night-lilies and a note with directions to a secluded garden overlooking the city, all for an evening's rendezvous. Or he'll show up unannounced at her doorstep, and whisk her away on a masquerade festival in the Fissures, then have her back by morning light, buzzed and blissful, without a single hair out of place.  Or he'll call her out of the blue, when she's alone and in low spirits, and the banter will either turn to naughty flirtation or serious business, as needed, and Mel won't even notice that it's two in the morning, until she turns and sees his silhouette, outlined by the city lights, and realizes that he's been in her apartments the whole time.

 In sum, Silco is a complicated nuisance. But when he's at his best, the rewards are more than worth it.

Both men, in their own ways, drive Mel to be her most capable. Both, by virtue of being who they are, also drive her up the wall.

.-.b

[im-a-writer-sometimes]

Life Giveth and Life Taketh Away

Pairing: Viktor x Reader (You can always use this extension to change Y/N to your own name, if you’d like)

Description: When a routine test with the Hexcore goes sideways, Dr. Y/N Cole is left with an unexplained power—a gift that might be the answer to the illness eating away at Viktor’s life. But power always comes with a price, and there are no happy endings in Piltover.

Wordcount: 7.5k

Warnings: Major character death, angst, Jayce being a major pain in everyone’s ass, language, a wee bit of fluff, hurt/no comfort

A/N: Welcome to me ignoring canon for the sake of my stupid little plot!

—

The Hexcore was unlike anything Y/N had ever seen. From the way Viktor toyed with it for hours on end and the way Jayce’s wide eyes watched it undulate and glow, she guessed the duo had never seen anything like it either. It was science, living and breathing—magic, caged and yet dangerously unmoored between Viktor’s trained hands.

It was terrifying in a way, but in her career as a scientist, she had learned to live for the terrifying, riding that fine line between madness and invention. It was that trait within her that had pulled her towards the undoubtedly insane men she now worked for, and had likewise pulled them to her.

“I think Heimerdinger is right in a way,” she said, leaning against the end of the desk as Viktor sat in front of the core, head resting on his hands.

“How so?” He asked, his voice flat.

“We can’t employ the core until we understand it,” she said. He opened his mouth to protest, but she continued. “That just means we need to work twice as hard to understand it, to help the people who can’t wait another year or two years before this technology is available to the public.”

Viktor smiled softly, turning his head back to the core, it’s blue light dancing in the reflection of his yellow eyes. That was what pulled her to the softer, ganglier of the two scientists—and what pulled him to her—that willful, unrelenting drive to help others no matter the cost to themselves. The late nights and the bad coffee and the mornings waking to neck aches as they lifted their heads from the desks they’d sat down at two days ago—it all meant nothing. Nothing compared to the things they needed to accomplish.

“You’ve been up for 48 hours,” she said, standing from her spot against the desk and coming up behind him. “You go get some shut-eye, and I’ll run some more tests.”

“I’m your boss, Dr. Cole,” he said with lethargic amusement in his voice. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“When you’re being stupid, I do,” she said, leaning back against the desk next to him. He smiled and closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath. To her surprise, he reached around her for the cane leaning against the desk, standing with a grunt. “I’ll get a few hours sleep,” he relented, his voice deep and slow with exhaustion, his accent thicker than ever. “And then I’ll be back here to relieve you.”

“More than a few hours, Viktor,” she called as he left, knowing he wouldn’t listen to her. His lack of response said just as much. She sat down in his chair and sighed.

She thought about Jayce, the acting head of the council, busy with political endeavors and Mel, although she couldn’t blame him—if the councilwoman showed even the slightest bit of interest in her, she wouldn’t hesitate to fall into her arms. But despite his distractions, Jayce had been the one to tell her about Viktor’s trip to the hospital. He had been the one to beg her to force Viktor to take care of himself. “He listens to you,” he’d insisted. She spent every day with Viktor, but he revealed nothing—beyond the poorly masked coughs.

He needed this. He needed this promise of future, this promise of life. But he wouldn’t make it to that point of discovery if he kept pushing himself like he was. That was what Jayce had explained to her, translated from the doctor’s prescription of rest, rest, rest. As if that would cure a dying Viktor.

She ran her fingers along the edges of the core, feeling the cool, textured metal against the pad of her thumb. The core seemed to thrum in response, the light within it pulsing playfully. She pulled two wilting plants from a shelf beneath her, setting them on the desk on both sides of the core, and she curled into Viktor’s chair, just watching.

Stems of blue light, curious and alive, reached from inside the core, caressing the leaves of the plants until they started to bristle. Brown, papery skin became smooth, became green and waxy and full of life. The plants lifted themselves from their wilted position section by section, until two entirely different pieces of greenery sat on the desk before her.

She picked one of them up and walked it to the other side of the room, leaving the other by the core. She paced as she watched them both. She watched how the blue light burst and blew one plant apart into a sprout of black thorns. She watched how the other plant wilted again in the absence of the core’s life-giving power. It didn’t matter what life it gave—it was gone in a matter of seconds.

Or maybe mint plants were just inhospitable hosts for this power.

She sat back down, making a list in her head of new hosts to try. She hated the thought of animals, but maybe testing on sick or nearly-dead ones wouldn't be too unethical. Bugs were fair game, but their anatomy was so starkly different from a human’s that how the core affected them would be irrelevant.

It took her a moment to realize the core was still reaching, still hungry. It wrapped its light around the now lifeless tangle of black stems in a constricting, almost predatorial way. It took Y/N an even longer moment to realize it had started reaching for her. Her eyes widened, the light growing brighter before her. It took her too long—just a moment too long—to think to stand up out of its way.

It took another three hours for Viktor to find her collapsed on the floor in front of the desk, the core still pulsing on the surface.

—

Viktor told her she had lost her being-alone-in-the-lab privileges as soon as she woke up in a hospital bed, and Jayce frowned at her, as if saying how is he supposed to rest now, genius? She gave him a tight smile that said I tried my fucking best.

Before an entire non-verbal argument could play out, Mel appeared in the doorway, a soft coat wrapped around her slender frame and a vase of flowers in between her hands. “We leave you alone for an hour, Doctor, and look where you end up.”

“What can I say, I have a proficiency for poor decision making,” she said, and Mel laughed, sitting down at the end of her bed after setting the flowers on Y/N’s bedside table. She smiled at the arrangement of roses, some of them closed tight against the cold hospital air. “Thank you, Councilor,” she said. “These are lovely.”

“You’re welcome,” Mel said, before turning her eyes to Jayce. “But I’m afraid there are some matters that Councilman Talis and I need to attend to. I wish you a speedy recovery, Doctor,” she said as she stood, patting Y/N’s shin through the blankets.

Jayce mumbled a goodbye as he and Mel left together, leaving only Y/N, Viktor, and heavy silence that lingered in the air like molasses.

“I appreciate Mel’s sentiment,” she said softly, “but I hate roses.” Viktor looked up at that, watching her with wary eyes. “I don’t like how they close up.” She lifted a hand and ran a fingertip along one of the closed flowers as if to prove her point.

Her hand stilled as the petals quivered beneath her touch, before bursting open in a quick rush. Viktor stopped breathing. She drew her hand back. And then she lifted it again, reaching for another closed rose. It opened much the same, and she could hear Viktor’s sharp intake of breath.

“Find me a dead one,” she said, and it took Viktor a moment to even realize she had spoken.

“What?”

“A dead plant. Find me, uh, a dead plant, to—”

He was out of his chair and limping down the hallway before she could finish her sentence. He returned a moment later, a poor nurse hauling a browning plant in a large planter into the room.

“Beside the bed,” he said softly, and the nurse deposited it there, staring at them both expectantly. “That will be all, thank you.”

Once he left, she reached out, pressing her fingertips against one of the wilting leaves. Like mold on bread, green spread out beneath her fingers until the entire plant was living again.

“What have you done?” Viktor breathed, and she shook her head.

“I don’t—I don’t know,” she said. She looked down at her hands, the same as they were last night, and shook her head again. “I ran the same test we’ve run a million times. The plants—the plants died and withered, but the core–”

“What about the core?”

“I don’t know. It was different.”

“Different how?” He said, scooting the plant away and sitting down in the chair beside the bed. “I need you to explain it to me in detail, Y/N.”

She bristled at the sound of her first name in his accented voice. He always called her Doctor or Cole or Dr. Cole. But she didn’t have time to linger on the significance of it when he was staring intensely enough at her to make a lesser person shrink away in discomfort. But she knew this gaze—his problem-solving gaze. She just wasn’t used to being the problem he was solving.

“The plants were enough to wake it this time, but not enough to satiate it. It was hungry, and then,” she paused. “Predatorial? I saw it reaching for me, and I was just too stunned to move. And then I woke up here.”

“That’s all you remember?”

“Yes,” she said. He reached out to take her hand in his, to study it, but she pulled back. His narrowed eyes met hers. “Don’t—don’t touch me, we don’t—”

“We don’t what?” He asked slowly.

“We don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t want any… unintended side effects.” She thought about the mint plant bursting into wild black and shivered, Viktor’s face hovering in front of hers. She pressed her hands beneath her legs for safe measure.

“Yes, right,” he said. And then he was gone for a moment, returning with a pair of lamb-skin gloves dangling from his fingers. “To prevent any unintended side effects.”

—

Jayce was ecstatic when he returned to the lab later that day, explaining to Viktor’s unimpressed face how Y/N’s ability was a vital step in understanding the core. How she was fine, as the doctor’s had confirmed, and she now had the ability to bring plants to life.

“With none of that turning black and dying stuff,” he added, gesturing to the two plants now basking in the window—the vase of fully-bloomed roses and the potted plant, both still alive.

“Just like we do not understand the core,” Viktor explained, “we do not understand what it has done to Dr. Cole. We need—time.”

“Time?” Jayce said. “Weren’t you the one who said people need help now? Here’s your answer, Viktor,” he said, gesturing to Y/N as if she were a potted plant as well. “Why not take advantage of it?”

“Maybe because it is our friend and our colleague, and there is no need to put her in more danger than she has already subjected herself to,” Viktor said.

Y/N frowned—upset that she was actively being excluded from this conversation, and glad because she truly didn’t know who she sided with.

“What about you, Viktor?” Jayce continued, his voice softer. “You thought the Hexcore was the key to curing you, and now,” he looked over at her, “the key might be Y/N.”

Viktor stood, putting his weight on his cane to stand face-to-face with his partner. “Enough,” he said. “This was an unfortunate accident, an accident we still do not know the full repercussions of. Dr. Cole is not a trinket, she is not a science experiment, and I won’t treat her as such.”

Y/N stood, and they both turned their heads towards her. “I need a glass of water.”

Jayce was quick to fetch it for her, and then both men were watching her intently as she drank, eyebrows raised. She sighed.

“Jayce has a point,” she said, apologetic eyes meeting Viktor’s. “This could very well be a blessing in disguise, Viktor.”

Jayce lifted his hands in an I told you so gesture that had Viktor rolling his eyes.

“But,” she continued, and both the men’s focuses returned to her. “Viktor is right that the risks of getting ahead of ourselves right now far outweigh the potential rewards.” It was Viktor’s turn to gloat, but he just smiled softly. “We don’t know if those plants will blacken and die. It may only take longer for them to do so.”

Viktor’s smile disappeared at that, before he nodded solemnly.

“Let’s monitor your power,” he said. “We will test it on more plants, on dying animals, and we will see what becomes of them.”

“Because sickly rats are more deserving of this power than you,” Jayce said, sharp eyes on Viktor’s profile as he watched her. Viktor ignored him, crossing the room to pull a mint plant from our withering collection.

Jayce’s eyes met Y/N’s, and she shook her head. He clenched his fists and was gone in an instant, the lab door slamming behind him.

—

Viktor’s next hospital visit was less shocking than the first. And the doctor’s advice was the same. Rest, rest, rest, he told Viktor. So your inevitable death will come a little later, was the bit he forgot to add.

By the time a disheveled Jayce walked through the door to the hospital room, Y/N had fallen asleep, curled awkwardly in a chair, her head resting on the foot of the bed. The lamb-skin gloves were on her hands—as they had been for the last two weeks except for when she was curing canaries and mice and mint plants. In her foggy, half-conscious haze, she heard the tail-end of a whispered conversation, voices floating above her like light from the core, reaching desperately through the space in between.

“You have to try,” said Jayce, his voice kinder than she’d heard it in weeks. “What is there to lose?”

“Without thinking about the potential consequences for me, we don’t know what the consequences for Y/N will be,” said Viktor, her first name feeling so out of place, like a confession she wasn’t meant to hear.

“Viktor—”

“She’s been curing plants and small animals, not human beings.”

“The Hexcore never gets any weaker,” Jayce countered. “It never dims, and that same power is in Y/N. You have to trust it.”

“I don’t. Not with her life,” came Viktor’s defeated voice.

She heard shuffling as Jayce stood and felt his warm hand on her back.

“She’d never try something if you didn’t approve,” he said. “Why don’t you give her a chance to choose for herself?” He paused. “Your life matters too, Viktor.”

She fell back asleep to images of yellow eyes closing for good, hands reaching out too late, and a cough somewhere in the distance.

—

A week in the lab until his next episode. A week during which Y/N cured a cat of pneumonia, developed a minor cough which had Viktor—for lack of better terms—flipping his shit, recovered quickly, and tried to convince him to get at least five hours of sleep every night (which he didn’t).

A week until the doctor came into Viktor’s hospital room with a frown and no longer told her he should rest more. There is no more delaying it, he said with just the defeated look in his eyes.

A week until Jayce had the same argument again—only this time with her.

“He’s dying, Y/N,” said Jayce, eyes flitting to Viktor’s sleeping form. “I’m begging you to at least try.”

She watched the way Viktor’s chest rose and fell beneath the blankets—each breath a monumental effort he might not have the strength to make again. She looked back at Jayce.

“It’s his life,” she said. “And he’s right. We don’t know what will happen.”

“I know you won’t just let him die,” Jayce said. “You care for him. Much more than you care for me.” She opened her mouth to counter, but he lifted his hand. “I’m not offended, Y/N. I only ask you to do what you’ve been wanting to do since the moment you made that rose bloom.”

He departed soon after that, muttering something about council business and leaving a kiss on her hairline, as if he was trying to transfer the will to cure him into her.

Viktor was right. Every test they had done had been successful, but they still didn’t know the long-term side effects—on her patients and on her. Viktor understood the ethics of research and nothing would make him flinch from that, not in a way that might hurt someone else. She understood that, truly she did.

But Jayce was right in a more pressing way. They didn’t have years to understand this ability. They had another month, if they were lucky. Viktor was dying anyway, and he would undoubtedly die if she sat here and did nothing. He deserved a chance, no matter how much he said he didn’t want it. And she was the only one who could give it to him.

She scooted her chair towards Viktor until there was no room left between it and the bed. She peeled off the lamb-skin gloves slowly, setting them on the bedside table. She stayed like that for a while, hands suspended in the air above his sleeping form, taking slow breaths in and out. She only shifted to wipe the tears that had started to trickle down her face.

“Viktor,” she breathed. His eyelids shifted, but he made no other movement. She started reaching for the gloves again, picturing his anger when he woke up, anger she never wanted directed at her. She stalled when she thought about him not waking up at all. The anger was preferable, she decided, fingers reaching for his face.

She felt static shock run through her body as her fingertips grazed his cheek. His eyelashes fluttered, and he leaned into her touch. Her other hand reached for his, twining their fingers together until her knuckles were colorless. When his eyes stilled again, she brought her other hand to his, pressing his hand between her palms and bringing it up to her face, planting kisses along his knuckles.

“I’m sorry,” she said into his skin. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

She fell asleep with her head against their tangle of hands.

—

She woke to an empty hospital bed, her cheek resting against the mussed-up blankets.

In her half-consciousness, she thought Viktor must have died in the night, and they’d already hauled away his body. She stood quickly, blood-rushing to her head and sending her on a quick trip to the floor, knees colliding with the cool stone. She cursed, suddenly conscious enough to realize they would have woken her if her dearest friend had passed on in his sleep. But the question remained: where was he? She stood, the action taking much more effort than usual, and stepped into the hall.

“Excuse me,” she said, stopping a nurse as she passed by. “Do you know where Viktor went?” she asked, gesturing to the empty bed behind her.

“He was discharged early this morning,” she said.

“Discharged? He was the sickest he’s ever been. How was he discharged?”

“The doctors are still trying to puzzle it out,” she shrugged. “But he was perfectly fine when he woke up. Left in a rush.”

Y/N stared open-mouthed and dumbfounded at the nurse as the truth dawned on her. The nurse lingered for a moment—most likely concerned by her notable absence of reaction—before continuing on her way. She stood in the doorway, completely motionless, as she realized what she’d done.

She cured him.

It worked.

Jayce was right.

She grabbed the gloves from the table and left, going to the one place she knew he’d be.

The lab was a mess when she got there, notes ripped from journals and scattered along table tops, pieces of hextech dangerously littered about the room. He looked like a mad scientist sitting in the middle of all of it—the mad scientist she had first met, with color in his cheeks and a light in his eyes she couldn’t believe had ever been gone.

But then those eyes turned on her, and the light became fire.

“What have you done?” He said, standing up on his cane and closing the distance between them.

“I don’t know.” Her voice was small, much smaller than she wished it to be.

“You don’t know?” He said, throwing his arms in the air. “Of course you do not! How can you? But luckily for you, I can enlighten you.” He paused, turning away from her. He ran a hand down his face as he considered how to continue. “You have cured me, Y/N,” he said eventually, barely looking over his shoulder at her. “I can breathe, I can walk about without nearly fainting, I can live.” He looked at her, and she found no gratitude in his eyes. “What did Jayce say to you? You said you would do nothing without my wish for you to do so. And I did not wish this.”

“Why?” she said, taking a step towards him. When he turned his face and refused to meet her eyes, she shook her head. “Maybe you had accepted your death, but I hadn’t. You were living on borrowed time, Viktor. Every trip to the hospital was one trip closer to your last, and I couldn’t watch you die. I couldn’t watch you let yourself not die, not when I have this.” She lifted her hands, and he finally looked at her, grimacing. “You said our work could help people, and I have just proven that it can, we—we should be celebrating, you bastard,” she said, her voice growing thinner. She took in a shaky breath. “You should be thanking me, you should—” She groaned, clenching her fists in an effort to slow the painful race of her heart. She sighed. “I don’t know why you were so happy to die, Viktor. But you deserve a chance. And I was the only one who could give it to you.”

“It was not your right,” he said slowly.

“I don’t care!” she said, throwing her arms up in the air. “You’re alive, Viktor! You’ll live for years and years to come; who gives a fuck who has the right? I wasn’t going to give you the right to die.”

He grunted and turned  away from her, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just–I need a moment,” he said. She scoffed.

“Take a lifetime, Viktor,” she said, the door slamming shut behind her.

—

When Jayce heard the news, he was knocking on her apartment door (after visiting a moody Viktor, of course). He crushed her in a hug before she could say hello, lifting her off the ground and twirling her through the air like a ragdoll.

“It worked!” He said, setting her back down with his hands on the tops of her arms. “I told you it would!”

She stepped out of his grasp, walking further into her apartment. “But Viktor—”

“He’ll come around,” Jayce said, following her. “I know he will; he’s just mad he can’t be so morbid all the time now.”

She nodded, grabbing a mug from the cupboard. “Tea?”

Jayce smiled, pulling out a chair at her breakfast table. “You know me so well, Doctor.”

She sat down across from him a minute later, two cups of chamomile between them.

“I’m just—” Jayce started, his eyes fixated on something outside the window. “I’m just so relieved. For so long, we couldn’t do what we love. Everything was about Viktor getting better, as it should have been, and now—” He smiled. “—Now we go back to how it always was.”

She nodded, taking another sip of her tea. She nearly spilled it when a cough immediately ripped through her throat, followed by another cough, and another.

“You alright?” Jayce asked, setting down his cup and reaching a hesitant hand towards her.

“Wrong pipe,” she wheezed, standing up from her seat and clutching a hand to her chest. Jayce stood as well, hands hovering in front of him as if he didn’t know what to do.

“Doctor—”

“I’m fine,” she managed, walking to the sink and cupping her hands beneath the faucet, drinking mouthfuls of cold water.

“I don’t know if that’s going to—”

The water came back up immediately, followed by her breakfast as she emptied her stomach into the sink. Jayce was there, hands on her back as she continued to heave. “I’m fine,” she said again, although she didn’t think either of them believed it.

“You’re fine,” Jayce repeated, his hands going still on her back. “You just need to lay down, okay?” She nodded, following Jayce as he opened the door to her bedroom, peeling back the covers on her bed. He covered her up as soon as she crawled onto the mattress, closing the door and speaking a quiet feel better over her faint coughs.

—

“She needs a hospital,” said a hazy voice as she woke.

“I’m certain it’s just a minor cold or something,” replied a voice she recognized, Jayce’s face coming into view above her as she flitted my eyes open.

“Minor colds don’t have people vomiting and losing consciousness, Councilor.”

“She didn’t—”

She coughed as she woke, and both Jayce and—as she now recognized him—Dr. Haymin, Viktor’s physician, turned their focus on her.

“Dr. Cole, how are you feeling?”

“Fine,” she croaked out, clearing her throat at the sound of her voice and pushing her covers off. It was too hot. She was too hot. “Where’s Viktor?” she asked in her half-consciousness, knowing the last time she’d seen these two men in a room, there had been a third.

“At the lab,” Jayce said after a beat of silence. “I didn’t—he doesn’t need to worry. Right, Doctor?”

Dr. Haymin ignored him, speaking to Y/N instead. “I was just telling Councilor Talis how it might be safest for you in a hospital right now, just while we figure out what’s going on.”

She shook her head. “I’m fine.”

“Dr. Cole—”

“I just needed a bit of rest,” she said, standing and pushing past them into her kitchen. They followed her as she pulled a glass from her cupboard and filled it with water, taking slow, steady sips.

“I’ll stay with her for now, Dr. Haymin,” Jayce said. “If there are any further complications, I’ll take her to the hospital, alright?”

Dr. Haymin looked hesitantly between them before letting out a long sigh. “I want you both to know that in my professional opinion, she should be in a hospital right this minute.”

“I understand,” said Jayce.

Dr. Haymin left with a laundry list of symptoms to look out for, mentioning something about Y/N’s fingers turning blue as Jayce closed the door in his face.

“Alright,” said Jayce, walking back into the kitchen. “So, you’re fine?”

She nodded.

“Great. I’m late for official council business. I’ll come back around dinner time to check back on you. Sound good?”

“Sounds great,” she said, lifting her glass in his direction as he quickly followed in Dr. Haymin’s steps.

—

“I just wanted to apologize, even though my reaction was completely warranted and your behavior was—no, no,” Viktor mumbled to himself, hovering in the hallway outside her apartment. “The way I spoke to you was unacceptable, and I just wanted to apologize. I am obviously still infuriated at you, but I respect you, and I should have shown that, despite your complete dismissal of my autonomy and—no, no, no, no, shit.” He let out a deep breath. “Y/N, I want to be alive, I am happy I am alive, and I am sorry. I know you did what you did out of the goodness of your heart, and I am not mad at you, only at your recklessness—the recklessness Jayce inspired. I’m sorry for yelling, and I hope you can forgive me.”

He nodded sharply to himself before taking the final step to her door and knocking twice. When the seconds ticked by with no answer, he knocked again. “Dr. Cole?” He called. “It’s me, uh, Viktor. I understand if you do not wish to speak with me, but I promise I am not here to fight.” He paused, waiting for her to yell back from the other side telling him to go fuck himself. But there was nothing. “Dr. Cole?”

He tried the handle, and to his surprise, it gave, the door swinging open before him. “Dr. Cole?” He called again, stepping into her sunlit apartment. “Are you here?” Once he passed the threshold, he saw her, collapsed in a heap in front of her kitchen counter.

“Y/N!” He rushed towards her, leaning his cane against the counter and crouching down beside her body, his hand on her back rising with a shaky breath that had him sighing in relief. “Y/N, wake up,” he said softly, turning her over onto her back. His hands stilled at the sight of blood dried along her upper lip, one stream still tacky from her right nostril. “Y/N.” He shook her shoulder, perhaps a little rougher than he’d intended, and she coughed, her eyes flitting open and then squinting shut again at the brightness in the room. “Y/N, what happened?” He asked, the quiver in his voice telling them both that he already had a hypothesis.

“Viktor?” She said, opening her eyes halfway, and he opened his mouth to respond before she was overtaken with a fit of coughs, curling into herself and pressing her mouth into her elbow. “I’m–” cough “fine—” cough “I promise.”

He didn’t respond, he simply took a hold of her hand, straightening out the arm she had been coughing into and peering down at her elbow.

The white fabric was bright red—red like roses, like the roses still blooming in the lab window.

He didn’t even have the strength for another what have you done. He just squeezed his hand tightly around hers and closed his eyes.

“Viktor?”

He was silent for a long while before he responded with a broken sob, his other hand coming up to cover his face as he cried openly. Y/N sat up, wrapping her arm around his back and pulling him into her, their hands still locked together between them.

“I’ll be fine,” she whispered into his shoulder, which only made him cry harder.

“This was not your disease to live with,” he said, pulling back to look at her and speaking aloud what they had both realized by now. “To—to die—”

“Hey,” she said, hand coming up to cradle the side of his face. “It wasn’t yours either. No one deserves this, but I–I am carrying it now, so, just—let it be, okay?”

“I–I should have seen this. You were dehydrated all the time from the plants, and your cough from the-the cat—”

She dipped her head, forcing him to meet her eyes.

“Viktor,” she breathed. “I wouldn’t take it back.”

“I wouldn’t have let you do it,” he said, not in anger, but in a remorse so heavy she didn’t know how he carried it on his own.

She turned away to cough again, and Viktor couldn’t find the strength to yell at her for this. Jayce, he would obliterate the next time he saw him, but not her.

“We should probably get you to a hospital,” he said instead, and she sighed once the coughing fit subsided.

“They can’t–they can’t do anything,” she said softly. “I think I’d just prefer to be here.”

He frowned, but said nothing. Instead, he helped her up and guided her to her bedroom, peeling back the covers much like Jayce had earlier that morning. Except Viktor stayed, pulling an armchair to the side of her bed and sinking into it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you,” she said through a yawn, pulling the covers up to her chin.

“Don’t apologize, Y/N,” he replied, and she closed her eyes. “I’ll find a way to fix this,” he added, but she had already drifted off.

—

He brought Y/N back to the lab as soon as she was rested enough, and she sat on the bench by the window as he worked, resting her head against the glass. When Jayce arrived a few hours later, he was surprised to see them both there, and at the way Viktor tensed at his friend’s cheery hello, she stood and decided to use this opportune moment to use the bathroom. When she came back there was still muffled yelling through the door and she waited outside, wanting nothing to do with this conflict—even if, in a way, she had caused it. Jayce burst into the hallway a few moments later his eyes wide and red-rimmed.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. If I had known, I would never—”

“It’s okay, Jayce,” she said, resting her hands on his arms. “We both wanted what was best for him.”

“But, I-I left you,” he choked out in a whisper that made her realize he had definitely not told Viktor that part. “I really believed you were fine, or maybe I was just in denial, I—”

“Hey,” she cut him off. “It’s happened and we can’t take it back. I’m at peace with it, okay? Anything you think you’ve done wrong, I forgive you for.”

Jayce pulled her into him, crushing her in a hug, his chin resting on the top of her head. “I’m still sorry,” he said. She pulled back and smiled at him, before taking a step back towards the door. Jayce took a step in the other direction, faltering for a second as he watched her disappear into the lab.

—

For four hours—maybe five—Viktor tossed theories and possible cures at her, most of which she had already researched herself when Viktor was sick. She explained the downsides, the impossibilities, the potential of rumfish oil, if strained properly. But Viktor had more and more ideas. For every hypothesis she countered, he had another one ready, each more desperate and mad than the last.

“Viktor,” she finally said, cutting off his long-winded explanation of an incident involving tempar eels and a woman cured of heart palpitations. “Can we—save this for tomorrow? I’m tired. I don’t know how you were working all the time, because I’m just—drained. I’d like to have dinner and go to bed, if that’s okay.”

Viktor paused, before nodding slowly. “Of course. I’ll walk you to your room.”

She pulled a jar of soup out of her cabinet once they got back to her apartment, Viktor grabbing a pot and placing it on the stove without a thought. She tried to open the jar, her fingers straining against the lid, but she couldn’t get it to budge. Viktor noticed and quietly came up behind her, reaching out his hands.

“I got it,” she insisted, trying again. And again. Why was this happening? She was young and strong, and she’d never had trouble opening a goddamn jar of soup.

“Y/N, let me—”

“I got it,” she said, sharper than she intended. The shock of her outburst made all anger and spite and will drain out of her quickly, and she slumped, placing the jar in Viktor’s outstretched hands. He turned away towards the stove, and she didn’t even see him open it, but she heard the sound of the liquid filling the pot.

“Sorry.”

“No need for apologies, Dr. Cole,” he said.

Dr. Cole. What happened that he couldn’t call her by her first name, the name she’d grown accustomed to hearing from him? What sort of distance did he need? What sort of space was he trying to restore? Maybe before he had distanced himself because he knew any connection wouldn’t last, that soon enough he’d be dead. And now he knew that soon enough she’d be dead in his place. Dr. Cole, Dr. Cole, Dr. Cole. Both a cruelty and a mercy.

“Where are your bowls?”

She pulled two bowls from the cabinet beside her and walked over to the stove, ignoring his raised eyebrows at the second one. He didn’t protest though, pouring soup into both bowls until the pot was empty.

“Tell me what you’ll do,” she said as he washed their bowls in the sink a little later, the soup resting heavy in their stomachs.

“What?”

“With all this time, this life—what will you do?”

For a moment, she thought he hadn’t heard her, but eventually he turned off the sink, placing the bowls on a towel to dry and turned back towards her.

“I’d had a lot of time to think about how I wanted to die, Dr. Cole,” he said softly. “I didn’t ever consider how I wanted to live.”

“Well consider it now,” she said. “Consider Viktor at forty, at fifty, at seventy-five. What are you doing?”

“Sailing west,” he said almost instantly. “Buying a house on some island in the Morian sea.”

“So you have thought about it.”

He hummed, crossing the kitchen to sit down at the table.

“Would you stay there all year? Or just in the summers?” she asked, sitting down opposite him.

“All year,” he said. “Jayce could send me his theories, and I could send him mine, but I’d never have to hear about the political plights of Piltover. Because this is of course after I have provided plentiful resources to the undercity, and worked tirelessly to erase the stigma surrounding its residents.”

“Of course,” she said. “Any children?”

“Three daughters,” he said, and she chuckled at his certainty. “Alexandra is the oldest, named for her grandmother. And then there’s Danika in the middle, and the youngest, Y/N, named after her—”

Silence swallowed everything around us, enough for the sound of children laughing and beach waves hitting the shore to rise in my mind. A small, curly-haired girl, named for her mother, smiling in my direction. Three children clinging to their father’s arms.

“After her father’s most stubborn employee?”

After another beat of silence, she reached for his hand across the table.

“It was never meant for us, either way,” she said, and he met her eyes. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he said. “Not when I’m the one living to grieve it.”

“Thought you had secured the easy way out, huh?” At her words, he met her eyes with alarm, his gaze quickly softening at the mischief he found there.

“I was counting on it,” he said.

“Well, that’s awfully rude of you,” she said. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you ladies first?”

He smiled, but something flickered out in his eyes. “Let’s not joke about this.” She nodded, and he stood, offering her his hand. “Bed?”

“Bed,” she confirmed, following him to her bedroom and climbing under the covers. He turned to leave and something clenched in her chest. “Viktor?”

He paused. She considered the distance, the Dr. Coles he had given her when he knew he was dying, when he knew any affection he offered would ultimately be ripped away. She thought of his admission, of the future he saw, and the present he had sacrificed selflessly. She thought of how truly good he was, and how she needed to be good too, how she couldn’t ask anything of him, not now. But she didn’t need to, apparently.

He had kicked off his shoes and propped his cane against the nightstand before she asked the question, slipping under the covers without a word.

“You don’t have to—”

“Have me, if you will,” he said, his eyes already closing. As if sightlessly sensing the guilt wracking her face, he continued, “It isn’t selfish, Y/N.” He opened his eyes. “I’ll take any time you’ll give me.”

And so she rolled over and went to sleep.

—

The time she could give him was a month, probably less, according to Dr. Haymin. Viktor had forced her to go to the hospital the next morning—just to see where we stand—and she felt better, oddly, knowing exactly what she had left.

They spent the day at the harbor, and she bought Viktor his first street kebab, laughing at the way he gingerly plucked half-cooked meat from the stick and eyed it with distrust. Y/N spent the night in bed, Viktor spent it in the lab. Jayce and Mel visited her the next day, and Mel brought a bouquet of tulips this time, leaving them on the kitchen table for Viktor to find when he reappeared in her apartment around lunchtime. The circles beneath his eyes and the tired lift of his smile told her he hadn’t found the miracle he’d been looking for. He took her to the art museum, and sat on a bench in the main gallery with her for an hour when she was too tired to keep walking. She invented backstories for all the characters in the portraits, spun creation myths for the landscapes, and Viktor listened. When she fell asleep on his shoulder, he asked an employee if they had a wheelchair available, and then he took her back home. When she crawled into bed, she told him she couldn’t remember where they had been, and he regaled to her her own story of how a fairy grew tired of the nightime and smashed together a thousand stars to make the sun, and that’s why Dialucci could paint the sunrise. She went to sleep, and Viktor stayed with her.

The next morning, she couldn’t get out of bed.

Two mornings after that, she couldn’t keep down any food he tried to give her, and he asked Dr. Haymin to come see her again.

“You have days,” he told Viktor outside her room. “In truth, she could go at any moment.”

“Will you smash some more stars together to make another sun?” She asked when Viktor came back inside her bedroom, the sound of Dr. Haymin closing the front door barely audible. “So it’s daytime for the rest of my life?”

“I’ll do my best.”

She sat up, leaning back against the pillows at the headboard and patted the space before her, beckoning him to sit. He did. “Even if it will dry up the atmosphere and slowly burn the earth to a crisp?”

“Even then.”

She smiled, closing her eyes. “What did he say?”

He scooted back until he was leaning against the pillows as well, opening his arms for her to fall into.

“I’ll name the second sun after you,” he said.

“Okay,” she breathed. “But if it starts killing everybody, rename it.”

He laughed, squeezing his arms tighter around her, letting the silence envelop them both, peaceful and kind for once. “I know you won’t accept an apology,” he said eventually, “But I want to give it nonetheless.”

“Who said I wouldn’t accept an apology?” She pulled back to look at him and he raised his brows. “It all depends on the delivery.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Won’t cut it,” she said, shaking her head.

“You deserved better?”

“Not it.”

“I’ll miss you?”

“Not quite.”

“I love you?”

She paused. “Getting close.”

He lifted his hand, using his finger to brush her hair out of her eyes. When she closed them, he leaned down, the tips of their noses brushing, their breaths meeting in the middle. She was the one to close the distance, but he was the one to kiss her, to press every unspoken thing into her mouth for safekeeping, to take with her wherever she’d go. When she pulled away, there were tears in both their eyes, and her voice cracked when she quietly said, “Apology accepted.”

When Viktor woke up the next morning, the skin of her arm was growing rapidly cold beneath his fingertips, the first rays of light from the one and only sun illuminating the blue-gray color beneath her complexion. He kissed her forehead, and the tip of her nose, and her lips, and her cheek, and her eyelids. “I forgive you too,” he said, her body falling limp against the sheets as he got up.

[cheeriecherrymain]

As we know in the future Viktor will come the Machine Herald, well what if the reader was a mage and went away, but she came back after a long time. The question will be that the New Viktor is still in love with the reader?

Listen, listen. I know....so very little about the Viktor lore. And I am currently in adamant denial about him becoming what he does - in my head he lives happily and healthily XD I'm too attached to him and it's gonna end my life when he removes his emotions.

Like, guy turns into a machine? I'm totally cool with that, and I think it's neat, and I'd still kiss him x1000. but it makes me so sad that he takes his feelings away, and i have such a hard time believing that it would even be possible. Because like. like. everything is feelings. and he does some super morally dubious stuff, which i am in full support of, but it! the feelings!!!! passion is a feeling, love is a feeling, care is a feeling - why would he continue to do any of what he does if he didn't have at least some kind of desire to? desire is a feeling! i don't know if this is touched upon in the lore!!!

anyways thats my rant and if i ever write more MH!Viktor it's going to continue to be horribly ooc because its my fic and i said so XD

MH!Viktor x Reader (SFW)

-When you’d left Piltover, you hadn’t thought it would be the last time you saw the man you loved.

-It’s just for a month, you’d said, trying to convince yourself that everything would be okay. One of your old friends had alerted you to a kind of magic that could potentially save your partner’s life, so you…you had to take the chance. For him. For both of you.

-And then your plans had hit a snag, and you’d been forced to stay away longer than initially planned - years longer. Even though your journey is fruitful, you’re a ball of anxiety on the way back to Piltover.

-You were terrified of what you might find. Would Viktor still be there? You wondered. Would he have waited for you? Would he even still…be alive? 

-Both of you had worked tirelessly to find ways to extend his life, and avoid his fast-approaching end. You knew in your heart that he would have had to find a solution on his own, with how long you’d been gone; the little vial of fairy tears you’d collected after a series of arduous tests was moot, because he wouldn’t have survived so long without some kind of help.

-When you arrive back home, everything is…the same. Sort of.

-It looks the same, on the outside, but you can feel the energy in the air. Something had shifted within the city, and not for the better. You could practically taste the fear and anguish on your tongue.

-The first thing you do is locate Jayce, a beloved friend and Viktor’s lab partner.

-Or you supposed…ex-lab partner. According to the man himself. He scoops you into a tight hug the moment he lays eyes on you, spinning you around a couple times before setting you back on your feet. It’s an emotional meeting for the both of you, especially when the happenings of the last few years are relayed to you.

-An explosion. Chaos. War. Outrage in Piltover and death in the undercity. And Viktor, exiled from the city of progress, back to the place he once called home.

-Jayce informs you that he hasn’t heard from Viktor in over a year now - not that they really had much reason to speak to one another, anyways. He practically begs you to stay, to keep working on the projects you’d left behind, but you can’t.

-Not until you knew what happened to the man you love.

-You depart for Zaun in the wee hours of the morning, slipping unnoticed by every enforcer you come across, until you’re in the heart of the undercity. But now…where to start looking?

-You search for him for a week, asking around and dropping coppers where needed. But so few people know of a stray scientist, and those who do are either dead, or their information culminates in a dead end.

-And then you meet him.

-You’re sitting on a crate in a dark alleyway, fighting off tears, when a strange mechanical whirr catches your attention. It’s not loud by any means, but that makes it all the more confusing. It almost sounds…hydraulic? But far smaller than you’ve ever heard from such a machine.

-You glance towards the sound with tired eyes, expecting…something besides what you see. Two orange eyes, staring right back at you. Bright and unnatural within the dark.

-You don’t have the sense to feel fear anymore. All your fears had come true, anyways - your plan failed, and the only person you’ve ever loved is dead. Nothing mattered anymore.

- “You are incredibly difficult to find,” the person speaks. You glance behind you, thinking perhaps there is someone else in the alleyway - but no, it’s just you. You and…whoever this is.

-You idly wonder where he’s from. His accent is thick, almost like…Viktor’s.

- “What do you want?” you ask, with a sigh. “I have no debts to be paid, and all I’ve ever held dear is long gone.”

-The person is silent for a couple moments, and then slowly steps forward. Tall and slightly menacing, in the dim lighting. Covered in armor, you guess, if the sheen of light is anything to go by. Until you notice the limb protruding from his back, and you freeze.

-Or was he made of metal?

-You warily keep your eyes on him, until he comes to a stop not a foot from you, and kneels down so you’re at eye level. “Do you not fear me?” he asks, curious.

- “I don’t have fear anymore,” you rasp. “How can I, when I have nothing left to lose?”

- “You have your life, do you not?” he inquires again, and your patience snaps.

- “What good is my life when I have lost everything I hold dear?” you hiss. “I failed, and those which I love paid the price for it. I don’t want to live! Not without….” you trail off, your eyes welling up with tears. “Not without Viktor.”

-The strange machine-man goes quiet again. Then, most surprising of all, he reaches out to touch you.

-Startlingly gentle, given his stature and imposing nature, as well as the fact that you don’t know each other. You stare at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to say to such an action.

- “I thought you had stayed away on purpose,” he says, lowering his voice. “Thought that perhaps you’d finally had enough, and had left for a new life. But then…then I wondered: had you met your end, as I, too, soon would?”

-You frown.

-He continues, “Now you’ve returned, and I know. You are alive and well…and you fought hard to come home.”

-The tears in your eyes flood over your lashes, and burn hot trails down your cheeks. “Viktor?” you ask, your voice wavering. He strokes his thumb over your cheek and -mechanical or not- the action brings you comfort. 

-And then you’re in his arms, tenderly wrapped up in metal while you sob and cling to him. It shouldn’t feel like home - it shouldn’t feel like him. But it does. He does, despite being so vastly different.

-He brings you to his home after that, scooping you up with ease and marching you right into his abode. Most of it is littered with spare parts and projects that you don’t recognize, and he admits to you that he doesn’t do much else besides work, now.

-And then he takes off his mask, laying it on a nearby table with a dull thunk.

-He looks so different, you think. Yet there, in his face, you can see traces of who he used to be. The little crinkles by the corners of his eyes, the crease between his brows, the little moles and freckles you used to love to kiss.

- “I am not…the same…as I used to be,” he explains. “I don’t feel like I used to, not in any sense.”

-Your heart sinks.

- “You don’t feel for me anymore,” you wobble, despair clawing its way through your chest. Of course he wouldn’t love you still, after so long of being away. You’re grateful that he’s alive, but you’re…angry. Downright pissed, that you’ve still had to lose what you love, despite him standing in front of you.

-And then.

- “I still feel for you,” he utters, once again bringing a large mechanical hand to rest on your jaw. Engulf the side of your head, more like. “In fact, you are all I feel for. The only memories that haven’t hurt too much to keep. And now, you’re here.”

-Hope blooms within you.

-He wasn’t the same as he was when you’d fallen in love - but neither were you the same as when you’d left. But he’d held you dear enough to keep you in his heart when he’d changed - and you’d be damned if you let the opportunity go. Perhaps you’d have to relearn how to coexist, but the love was still there, even if only for each other.

[marveloustimestwo]

Hello, I just wanted to say that I loved yanderes Jayce and Viktor.

Can I ask a mage reader where the Yanderes Viktor and Jayce fall in love with the reader. Did they split or would a war break out for the reader's sake? What will happen??

Hey! I'm happy you liked it, and thanks for the request!

Warnings: Yandere themes, a couple mentions of death and kidnapping.

As yanderes, I think that Jayce and Viktor would have a few similar tendencies.

I talked about Viktor's tendencies in his own general headcanons, and I still believe that he would be obsessive, paranoid, and possessive.

While Jayce, I feel, would also be obsessive and possessive but also delusional and impulsive, which is a very dangerous combo.

As I mentioned in my other post with mage!reader, both Jayce and Viktor would be first attracted to your magic.

Jayce has always been enthralled with magic ever since he was a child and had the experience with the sorcerer. Now any sort of magic is an automatic lure for Jayce.

And Viktor is a scientist. Anything new or strange has him wanting to know everything about it, to the point where he's working day and night to figure it out.

So when they both meet you and find out that you're a mage? They're immediately becoming enthralled with you.

I think there would be a fifty/fifty chance of how well they work together. They could either be amazing partners or bitter rivals.

Viktor is very methodical in his behavior with you. Everything he does is very thought out so he doesn't scare you away. While he may be paranoid, he's not full-on delusional.

Jace, however, is delusional and very impulsive. If he perceives someone to be a romantic rival or a threat to you, he's going to get lost in his paranoia and act first rather than plan anything out.

His impulsive nature combined with his possessiveness has led to quite a few deaths at his hands.

As for how this works for their partnership, it would really depend if they're able to start working together early.

If they don't, I find it hard to believe that Viktor would put up with Jayce's impulsivity. As I said, he's methodical. He's not about to let Jayce blow up everything just because he got a bit jealous.

However, if they started working together early, it'd be easier for Viktor to use Jayce's traits to his advantage.

When both of the work together, it's terrifying how easy it is for them to do so.

They're both scientists. Their inventions alone make it easy for them to trap you or take out anyone else. With their added intelligence, both of them are able to trick and fool anyone who questions

With Jayce's charisma and Viktor's ability to keep him in line, I could see them actually succeeding in making you fall for them naturally.

However, those same things are also what makes it such a terrible rivalry if they fall into that.

Both of them have their disadvantages and advantages.

While Jayce is impulsive and paranoid, he's also strong and has quite a bit of sway with the council. His intelligence also shouldn't be downplayed.

And Viktor, while his physical health often fails him, his genius and inventions make up for that plenty.

You being a mage might spell out trouble for them, but both have the intellect to find ways to restrain you if they have to, especially if they're working together.

[concreteangels24]

If you can’t wake up from the nightmare, maybe you’re not asleep. Jayce had thought to himself. He would tell himself anything and everything to stop what he had in his mind. It’s outside the window again. Jayce could hear it banging against the glass trying to get into his room, trying to get closer to him. The spirit wards Jayce using don’t seem to be strong enough to keep this one out completely. The smell is awful. Jayce can’t see anything but then again his head is buried under the covers so that really won’t help him very much. You’d think Jayce would be used to this by now. All of his life He has been a magnet for spirits but of course, he just couldn’t get used to what was going on there. Jayce is in his bed, a place he should feel safe, and instead, he was hiding under the covers terrified like some three-year-old hiding from some make-believe boogie monster. Although knowing what he knew and what he had seen he wasn’t for sure that they don’t exist. Maybe they really do live under the bed of small children. Jayce should ask Yuuko at some point although she’s most likely charge me for that information. That smell. It’s getting worse and I’m trapped in my room. If I stay in here I have some protection but as soon as I step outside I know they are all over me.

I’ve got no choice but to stay here hide under the covers hoping the creature will get bored of trying to break in and give up. Either way, if it stays or goes I won’t be able to sleep tonight. If it stays or if it goes I’ll still be too terrified to sleep. If it stays I’ll be awake because it’s there. If it goes I’ll be scared of it coming back and bringing others with it. It’s like a nightmare except I’m awake to have it. At times like this, I really hate living alone. If I had someone with me there would be someone to wake up but I’m alone and I have to deal with this alone. I want someone to help me with the nightmares I suppose. I’ve never really had that. You just hate this orphan thing. I stuff my fingers in my ears and try to think about something else. What should I make for lunch tomorrow? Domeki mentioned chicken katsudon. Like, hell am I making that? He should consider himself lucky to even get a portion of rice. Maybe I should call Domeki over. He’d be able to get rid of this spirit. I just can’t bring myself to do it. I can’t admit how weak I really am although I’m am sure he is already aware of. Asking Domeki for help is the last thing I want to do.

Damn, my pride. The smells getting even worse. Oh god. It’s making me retch. I can hear its voice laughing at me. There’s a loud crash coming from the window. I stay hidden beneath my quilt. Praying that it’ll go away and strangely the smell in the room seems to disappear and I can’t hear it banging on the window. I do hear a knock at the door instead but I stay under the bed quilt. It could be some trick. “Watanuki! Open the door!” I hear someone pounding on the door. I slowly come out from under the covers and head towards the door. “Who’s there?” I ask warily “Domeki.” I open the door and find Domeki on the other side. He comes inside. He seems to be wearing his coat over his pajamas. “What are you doing here?” I ask. I can’t stop shaking. That thing really freaked me out. Yuuko called. Said you were in trouble and you were being too stubborn to call me yourself. There was something but it’s gone now. It was powerful. I should really thank Yuuko some time although I’m more likely to shout at her for interfering. With Domeki here I feel myself begin to calm down. The terror I felt moments ago has been replaced with relief. Damn him for being the one to chase my nightmare away. Why is it he who can get rid of the spirits? Out of everyone in the world, it’s him! I suppose it could be worse. It could have been Mokona. Imagine trying to explain why I keep a black plushie with me all the time.

“I brought these. They’re some extra wards” Domeki pulls out some papers and puts them on the table. We stand in silence for a few seconds. “I’m going to go now if everything’s ok?” He pauses giving me a chance to ask for the help I find so hard to ask for. I nod back at him even though I’m still terrified about that thing coming back and Domeki starts to head towards the door. Without thinking I grab hold of the back of Domeki’s coat. “Don’t go” I plead, I know it’s the last thing in the world I’d do asking for Domeki’s help but that thing has really got to me. I don’t want to be by myself right now. I must be beyond scared if I’m willingly asking for Domeki’s help if not I think I may have finally lost it. Domeki turns around with a curious look in his eye. Typical Domeki he tries not to show any emotions but his eyes tend to give him away. I don’t think he knows that. “If I’m going to stay we better get some sleep” Domeki replies as he takes off his coat. "I’m only letting you stay because I don’t want you to get ill walking around in the middle of the night in nothing but you’re pajamas. I’m just being the wonderful, considerate Watanuki-sama I always am” I try to cover up my moment of weakness. I know it’s pointless.

“Hm,” was the reply I got. Eloquent as always I see. I lay out an extra futon and turn off the light. After a few minutes, I started to cry. I’m such a wimp at times. I just couldn’t help it. I had really thought for a moment then that this was it. That this was the spirit that was going to end it all. I suppose it’s tears of relief. That thing has gone and won’t be coming back with Domeki around. I felt a hand on my back. Have I mentioned how I hate Domeki recently? I don’t think I have “I’m having a private moment,” I snap at him. “Go to sleep” For once just ask for help. I know it’s impossible for you but you have people here willing to help if you just ask.

 You’re too stubborn. “If I’m not mistaken I did just ask for help when I asked you to say” I replied sullenly. I didn’t think that was you asking for help. I just thought that was you being the considerate Watanuki-sama’ you are.Bastard. He’s teasing me now. I must remember he’s not having Bento for at least a month. He lies down next to me, puts an arm around my waist, and holds me close to him. Do you know the scariest thing about tonight? It didn’t freak me out. I felt safer than I could ever remember. I snuggled closer to Domeki and started to fall asleep. I’m sure just before I fell asleep I felt a kiss on my forehead and Domeki mutter something like “Silly Kimihiro. I’m going to be here if you ask for my help or not” but I’m sure I must have dreamed it.

[goddessofroyalty]

Hey uh… story prompt? If you like it, I mean. I’m sorry if not, and it’s totally okay of course! But maybe Viktor post delivery, but it was a difficult one so he is either delirious, in a lot of pain, or shivering from blood loss. Just some good old fashioned hurt/comfort with Jayce taking care of Vik and the baby and Viktor trying to hold it together but he’s really scared of dying now. If death is in the cards or not in that scenario I leave up to you of course. I just enjoy the way you write them so much and you asked for prompts so, uh… yeah. Thank you for writing in general. You really made me feel less awkward about liking mpreg, honestly.

~V⚙️🔩

Try this again on the right prompt. Also AO3 link.

Tags: mpreg, post-childbirth, birth complications (Viktor’s fine at the end though)

---------------

Jayce feels Viktor’s hand twitch in his own that is holding it, waiting for his partner to wake.

He squeezes back as Viktor’s eyes flicker and open and Viktor groans.

“Jayce?” Viktor asks, his voice scratchy.

“I’m right here,” Jayce promises, shifting over in the hospital chair to be closer. “How are you feeling?”

Viktor seems to consider the question for a minute.

“Sore,” he settles on. “What happened?”

“They rushed you into surgery right after he was born.” Jayce doesn’t fully know why either. It had been clear the birth had been difficult for Viktor. And it certainly hadn’t helped Jayce’s anxiety how Viktor had been wheeled from the room almost as soon as their son had been born, leaving Jayce with the nurses and their new child.

Viktor was back now though and awake so surely whatever the danger had been had passed.

“Ah,” Viktor says. “I think I do remember that.”

He takes his hand from Jayce’s to brace himself as he adjusts to sit up in the bed, hissing as he does.

Jayce moves closer to help him up. A hand against Viktor’s back and chest to stabilize him, moving the pillows to help support Viktor once he is seated.

“The doctor’s said you should take it easy,” Jayce says, pulling away to give Viktor space while being close in case he needs anything.

Viktor nods stiffly, his eyes tightly shut and muscles tense as he licks his lip.

“Do you need a drink?” Jayce asks because he can tell Viktor isn’t comfortable and the doctors had mentioned he would be dehydrated from the anesthetic.

“No. Ah- Can I have my child?” Viktor asks, his voice soft.

“Yes of course.” Jayce hadn’t wanted to just hand their new son to Viktor he case he had a difficult wakeup from the surgery. But if Viktor wanted to meet him than Jayce would get him for him.

“Thank you,” Viktor says softly as Jayce carefully picks their son up from the hospital crib, still terrified he will somehow hurt him, and brings him over to Viktor.

Viktor weakly reaches up to accept their bundled child.

Jayce helps to keep him supported as Viktor brings him close. Only letting go once Viktor seems settled with their son in his lap, Jayce sitting on the edge of the bed to be close to them both.

“He’s apparently a perfectly healthy boy,” Jayce says. Unable to help himself but reach out to stroke his son’s cheek as he talks about him. Their son finally able to see the person who carried him for the first time. Viktor had rushed out earlier before he had a chance.

“I- good,” Viktor says, his voice uneven and Jayce figures it is just from the anesthetic.

Viktor curls down around their son, his shoulders shaking as he lets out weak sobs.

“Hey,” Jayce says, resting his hand on Viktor’s shoulder in what he hopes is comfort. “What’s wrong?”

He gets that being able to hold their child is emotional. The wave of love something Jayce himself had never felt. But there is something about how Viktor is that makes Jayce feel like there’s something else as well.

“I… don’t feel right Jayce,” Viktor says, his head still bowed to their child.

“Do you want me to get the doctor?”

“I- please.”

“Of course.” Jayce would do anything to help Viktor feel better. “Do you want to keep holding him while I do or-“

“It is probably safer if you take him back,” Viktor says because his hands are shaking as he weakly tries to sit up again.

“Okay,” Jayce says, moving to help Viktor sit up and gently take their son back. Pressing a kiss to Viktor’s head as he does. “You’ll be okay alright?”

Viktor doesn’t say anything just winces as he relaxes against the pillows.

Jayce puts their son back into the hospital cot to go get the doctor but picks him up as soon as he returns. Holding him as the nurses showed him as the doctor examines Viktor.

“Is he okay?” Jayce asks, when he sees the doctor’s brows furrow.

“He will be but I might see if surgery can fit him in and put him on an antibiotic drip for the next couple of days,” she says. Which doesn’t sound good and Jayce can see Viktor’s eyes tracking patterns on the ceiling while listening.

“Okay,” Jayce says because there isn’t anything else that can be said.

He moves closer to Viktor once the doctor leaves to go organize what they need. Reaching out to take Viktor’s hand in his, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles.

“Is there anything you want me to do?” Anything that could make Viktor more comfortable or the situation better at all.

“No,” Viktor says with a weak shake of his head.

“Okay. Do you want to hold him again?”

“I might drop him.”

“No you won’t. I will be right here to make sure of it,” Jayce promises, bringing their son over to Viktor.

Viktor clearly isn’t still sure but he weakly lifts his hands to take his baby. Just as promised Jayce keeps his hands in place, holding Viktor’s hands in his own as Viktor holds their baby.

He can feel the tremors in Viktor’s hands for it.

When he looks at Viktor’s face all he sees is pale exhaustion.

He wonders if there is anything he can do to get Viktor into surgery sooner.

“Jayce,” Viktor says after a couple of minutes of just holding their son.

“Yeah?”

“Can you get me one of the extra blankets? I’m cold.”

“Sure. Do you want me to take him while I do?” It would be harder, of course, to balance holding their fragile newborn son while getting the blanket but Jayce doesn’t want to make Viktor feel like he’s at risk of hurting their child either.

“I should be okay for a minute,” Viktor decides after thinking about it.

“Okay. I’ll be right back.”

Jayce gently pulls his hands from under Viktor’s to get the blanket that is thankfully folded up on the vacant chair in the room. Viktor is starting to shiver by the time Jayce is covering him with it.

“I’m going to go get the doctor again,” Jayce says, gently running a hand through Viktor’s hair. He knows birth isn’t easy but it doesn’t feel right for Viktor to be this weak.

Viktor nods weakly at it. Letting Jayce gently take their son from him to place back into the hospital cot.

Jayce goes to get the doctor and ten minutes later Viktor is being wheeled back into surgery. Leaving Jayce alone with their newborn son again.

“He’ll be alright,” Jayce promises their son as he holds in in his arms to give himself something to do. Even if he feels like he’s trying to reassure himself as well. “He’s not going to leave us that easily.”

Two hours later Viktor is wheeled back in. A collection of tubes connected to him.

It takes him even longer to wake up than it did the previous time.

“How are you feeling?” Jayce asks when Viktor’s eyes flutter open again.

Viktor just winces and shakes his head.

“Just focus on resting.” They don’t need Viktor to push himself harder than his body can currently handle just so Jayce can talk to him.

 Viktor nods before drifting back to sleep. Leaving Jayce to watch the IVs slowly drain into his partner and care for their child. His only company the nurses and doctors that come in to check Viktor’s vitals.

Viktor eventually wakes again as Jayce sits by his bedside trying to keep their son settled.

“Jayce?” Viktor asks. The color looking at least slightly returned to his skin and eyes more focused.

“Right here,” Jayce says, same as when Viktor woke up from his first surgery. He hopes it won’t happen a third time. “Are you feeling better?”

“A little,” Viktor says, turning his head to look at Jayce and their child, smiling weakly at them. “How has he been?”

“A little unsettled,” Jayce answers honestly. “I think he’s worried about you. Or maybe he’s just picking up on my worry.”

Viktor gives a hum at it. Reaching out with his hand to touch his son. Jayce immediately bringing the baby closer so he doesn’t have to stretch as far.

“Sorry for worrying you.”

“Don’t. You don’t need to apologize Vik,” Jayce says, trying to fight the tears gathering in his eyes. Viktor doesn’t need to know just how worried he was. “I’m just glad you’re okay. You are okay right? Do you need me to get you the doctor again?”

Jayce would. And he would continue to do so until Viktor was better.

“No. I think I’m okay now,” Viktor says before wincing as he tries to shift. “Ah, I mean I just need to rest.”

“Okay. Tell me if you need anything.” Whatever it might be Jayce would get it.

“Your hands are already full as is,” Viktor says, with a nod to their child in Jayce’s arms. “I am sorry I’m not of more use.”

“You already did enough,” Jayce says. Viktor had carried their child for nine months and the toll from their birth was the reason he was still in the hospital bed with all the cords attached to him. “I can take it from here.”

“Not entirely I hope,” Viktor says. “We are partners are we not?”

“We are.” Partners in Hextech. Partners in life. And now partners in parenthood. “Once you’re better though.”

[moonsdancer]

#MelJay AU Week | day four: movie au - the mummy (1999)

Art historian, Mel Medarda is slowly but surely building a career for herself as the assistant curator of the Nashmarae Museum of History in Shurima. Ever since she was a little girl, reading about the histories of her dead father's people, she's dreamed of exploring the mysteries of Shurima first hand. Of course, cataloguing an endless pile of precious objects and translating ancient texts isn't always so thrilling. But she's content, albeit ever searching for something truly special, revolutionary even.

Then, her brother Kino shows up toting a strange ancient box covered in hieroglyphs she has the wherewithal to translate. What the glyphs and the box's contents promise is world-changing, a fragment of a map to the Lost City of Gardens, a mystical place thought long buried beneath the sands of history and time. 

Before she knows it, an obnoxious disgraced inventor and ex-mercenary, Captain—no, Mister Jayce Talis, the only creature alive who claims to have seen the Lost City in person, joins their motley crew on the hunt for treasure and glory. But, they aren't the only ones on the trail, with greedy competitors and explorers pouring in from all over Runeterra to plunder a new discovery.

Even worse, something terrifying and ancient, awakened from beneath the dunes, arises to hunt them all.

Read a snippet from the story, tentatively titled, dawn of the chalicar, below + twitter here

(If you are familiar with The Mummy, then this scene's inspiration should be obvious. I had a lot of fun writing it, hope it's vaguely fun to read. Sorry for any mistakes in it, nothing is beta'd yet. The story will also ft. Akshan {the hottest bae in Shurima - Kino AND Jayce know}, Ezreal and others, currently trying to include as many P&Z faves as possible lol.)

dawn of the chalicar

Bel’Zhun Prison, Shurima

“Are you quite certain this ‘associate’ of yours is on the up-and-up, Kino? I’d like to escape this adventure with my head still firmly attached to the rest of my body.”

Mel looked askance at the prison yard in which she now stood, very much against her will, ignoring the salacious jeers and disturbing invitations being thrown her way from a motley crew of inmates. The absurd warden had trundled off with a pair of lackeys to locate a Captain Talis—the individual she was using a good chunk of her savings to bail out from his sentencing. All on the assurances of her brother who claimed he would prove somehow useful in reaching the location of the very first clue that had been embedded in the glyphs she’d deciphered a few nights ago. 

Kino was a poor judge of character at the best of times so Mel held little hope that this nefarious individual would be of much help. But Kino had insisted. 

“How are you acquainted with this Captain Talis, anyway?”

“Oh, we’ve done some business in the past, you know, a bit of this and a little of that.”

There was a shiftiness to Kino’s eyes, and he was fidgeting with his shoulder-length locs a little, his usual tell. Mel’s gaze narrowed. Either this Talis person was a criminal associate or Kino had conned the man, both possibilities boded ill.

Before she could interrogate him further, the warden of Bel’Zhun Prison, a portly gentleman draped in blindingly colourful robes, returned. He dragged a dusty, scraggly-haired giant behind him. Without preamble, he kicked the chained prisoner to the ground in front of them and said, “So, how much for the criminal?”

Frowning, Mel opened her mouth to remind the man of the five hundred crowns they’d already agreed on but Kino beat her to the punch with an offer of one hundred-and-fifty. Really? Was now the time to haggle?

The warden grinned, revealing a sizeable snaggle tooth that was a fascinating shade of orange. “Ah, my friend, you must be joking. I guess you don’t need our dear, disgraced captain that much after all.” He pulled on the prisoner, who’d stayed hunched over as if in pain, clutching the locks of his scraggly hair. “I feel the need for an execution today, maybe I can start with him. He’s something of a troublemaker anyway, always starting fights with the others, and pestering me for toothpaste, it’d be good to see him die.”

Mel gasped in horror. “You can’t—we need him to find the treasure—!”

“…Treasure, you say?”

Oh, blast it. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. 

Kino, always swift to act when something threatened his potential money-making schemes, piped up in denial, “Don’t pay attention to my sister. She’s mad, barely literate, and recently released from an asylum! This time yesterday, she was plucking her own underarm hair out and eating it.”

Mel looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Surely that was a bit over the top. But now that he’d set up such lofty expectations, oughtn’t she do something to play the part? Perhaps start scratching at her armpits? Oh, the indignity of it all. She was going to kill Kino. 

“Listen,” the warden half-whispered. “I know you’re probably telling the truth about the treasures—I will keep it quiet, and release the prisoner into your hands, in exchange for maybe a special gift.” He smiled at her, his tangerine tooth fairly glowing in the midday sun as he leaned in close to rub his finger along her elbow. “And sixty percent of your treasure.”

Mel shoved him away in disgust and fury. Mostly disgust. “Excuse me, you foul-breathed miscreant. You are not—."

“Twelve percent!” 

Mel cut herself off and faced her brother who had apparently rediscovered his desire to barter. Over her!

“Fifty-five.”

“Fifteen!”

Affronted beyond belief, Mel stepped aside while the two men went at it, both of them becoming increasingly shrill as they got thoroughly invested in their negotiation. 

The prisoner, this Captain Talis, was sitting up on his haunches. No longer hunched over as if in pain, instead he was looking straight at her, his whiskey-coloured eyes only barely visible between locks of dank, near-black hair. An unkempt beard covered his chin, and what she could see of his face beneath smears of filth and gods knew what else, wasn’t particularly remarkable. And yet still, for some inexplicable reason, she found herself arrested by his steady gaze.

This man couldn’t be worth all the trouble they were going to to get him out of jail. She had to double check.

Stepping closer to him—but not too close for he stank like someone who’d spent the better part of a year in a Shuriman port prison. 

“Captain Talis, I must implore you to tell me the truth, can you truly tell us how to find the Lost City of Gardens?”

When she spoke, the captain tilted his head, watching her with the wariness of a very large and very dangerous, and likely rabid animal. She noted, with an artist’s eye, that even though he’d probably lived through all manner of harsh deprivations, there was still a rangy power to his frame, his shoulders were broad—almost absurdly so—beneath the tatters of a faded doublet and shirt. The threadbare trousers he wore did little to hide the sturdy trunk-like thighs beneath, hugging him to an almost improper degree. Mel jerked her eyes upward away from inappropriate territory only to find him scrutinising her with a crooked smirk.

“Mister Talis, actually,” he drawled, his voice rusty. “Why do you want to find the Lost City? Fancy lady like you wouldn’t survive more than five minutes on the journey.”

Stomping her foot in frustration, Mel informed him in no uncertain terms that she was more than capable of an expedition across the Great Sai. She was much hardier than she looked.

He didn’t seem to believe her but he still asked, “Why take the risk?”

“Because—anything worthwhile involves risk, Mr Talis. I was told you are the sort to understand that.”

He snorted. “All right, I might be willing to consider telling you how to get there but it’s a tricky thing.”

Sensing an opening, however minute, Mel shuffled closer. “What… would convince you further?”

He lifted his filthy chained hands, and gestured at her to come nearer, as if to tell her a secret, a conspiratorial slant to his head. An excellent idea given the sensitivity of their subject. Mel moved forward until she was less than a foot away, intrigue percolating in her breast. If the man told them how here and now, then maybe they could just depart from this foul place and be on their way.

“Come a little closer, I can’t holler this kind of thing out in the middle of a jail, or your little expedition’ll be over before it even starts.”

He was right, so Mel sidled in almost scandalously close. So close she could see the glints of gold and flecks of green in his surprisingly fetching eyes.

“All right, thank you ever so much for telling m—hmph!”

Whatever she was about to say was muzzled by a pair of chapped lips pressing against her own in a rough kiss. It wasn’t like any kiss she’d had before. None of the too-soft chivalry of warm candlelit evenings in the teak-panelled gallerias and posh soirees during her university days in Piltover. No, there wasn’t a trace of gentility or sweet questioning here. It was demanding, and a little bit mean, a bite of teeth that made her whimper. In protest. Mostly.

But then, almost in a flash, the contact shifted. The sly swipe of a warm, wet tongue that tasted a little sour and yet had her opening her mouth to grant it entry, a curious lap of her own as she moved to meet it. 

He reared back and growled in her face, “If you want to know how to get there, lady, get me the hell out of here!”

Before she could respond, one of the guards clubbed the captain over the head and he dropped onto the sand with a thump. 

Shaken, as much by the easy violence as she was the kiss, Mel reached up to touch her stinging mouth watching as Captain-Mister-whatever-he-called-himself Talis was tugged away. More like Captain Cretin! Or Monsieur Libertine! Or—

“You know, if I’d known you were willing to dole out kisses to sweeten negotiations, we could’ve gotten a deal much quicker, little fox.”

The warden loudly agreed.

“Oh, do shut up, both of you.”

Hope someone enjoyed. Thanks for reading if you made it this far.

[insomniiyac]

Good Thing

“𝕀 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕨𝕖 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨

𝕎𝕖 𝕔𝕒��� 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕜𝕖𝕖𝕡 𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘”

— “Good Thing” by Sage the Gemini (ft. Nick Jonas)

Pairing: Jayce x Ekko

Warnings: none

Word count: 704

A/N: Jayce faces a dilemma.

Jayce always had his doubts when it came to his relationship with the Firelight Leader. He knew it was wrong slinking away from his Council duties and lying to the other councilman about his whereabouts. Going to see him with all the risks involved was more trouble than it was worth. So why did he continue doing this?

The truth was, he had a really good thing going down in the Undercity. Being with Ekko was a different, fun, daring experience. The thrill of being with him made him feel alive (despite being the one to rein him in when things get too crazy).

His youth, his brilliance, and the freedom he allowed for himself and his Firelights were all so awe-inspiring. A part of him found himself wishing he was born in the Undercity to fully immerse himself in the culture and to get more of an understanding. But giving him that taste… just a little taste had him craving more. Had this poor man willing to throw it all away if it meant Ekko would finally take this relationship to the next level.

That was why Jayce was going to break up with him today. He was dangerous for him. But when he came down in full Councilman wear- no oversized hoodie to hide his identity- and came face-to-face with Ekko, he choked.

“‘Sup Piltie.”

“I… I uh…” Jayce lowers his head, surveying the camp.

“…Yes?” Ekko raises an eyebrow.

“We’re not good for each other!” He blurts out, red-faced.

Silence.

“…Well duh, that’s obvious. I don’t really fuck with Pilties like that anyway.”

Jayce opens his mouth to speak, but is left bewildered by Ekko’s nonchalance. Did he… did he not realize what was going on? Did he not care?

“Is that it?”

“Ekko… I’m… what I’m trying to say is,” Jayce gestures with his hands. “I’m… I’m breaking up with you-“

“Psh! Why?”

“It’s just… this is dangerous. Being down here isn’t good for me. Hell, it isn’t good for either of us.”

“So…” Ekko begins to pace. “You’re letting me go.”

“I… I don’t want to, but… I’m terrified.”

“So don’t.”

“…What?”

“You’re overthinking it.”

“No Ekko. I’m not.”

“So what is the truth?”

‘I’m in love with you’… was what Jayce would’ve said if he was brave enough. No, he couldn’t burden Ekko with those feelings- nor could he burden himself.

“Look,” Ekko starts, snatching the man from his thoughts. “Do you enjoy my company?”

“Of course, I do,” he answers, confused.

“Do you leave here happier than before? Or do you always feel miserable? You can be honest.”

“Ekko… you make me so happy…”

“Then why can’t it just be what it is?”

“Huh?”

“Two guys enjoying each other’s company. We can make the good shit keep happening, y’know?”

Jayce sighs, fingers to his temples. “You say it like it’s so simple.”

“Because it is, bozo,” Ekko teases, reaching up to poke him on the forehead. “Look, I’ll be honest,” he pauses, crossing his arms. “I’ve never felt the way you’ve made me feel. I’m letting my guard down, so it’s only fair if you let yours down too.”

There goes that intense gaze Jayce loved so much.

“Ekko… I’ve fallen for you. And honestly, I don’t know if I ever want it to stop,” he confesses.

The Firelight Leader laughs light-heartedly.

“And there’s the truth,” he smiles, sauntering closer to him and getting on his tiptoes to kiss his jawbone. “Feel better?”

“You act like I was sick.”

“You were, especially coming down wearing that shit,” he gestures to Jayce’s clothes. “You’re a brave one, I’ll give you that.”

“Ha ha,” he laughs sarcastically.

“Seriously, never wear that shit around me again unless you want me to rip it off you.”

“Is that a challenge?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Not a challenge,” he shakes his head. “I’m dead serious.”

Ekko eyes Jayce as a smirk begins to creep on both of their faces.

“…You want me to ruin your suit, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

Ekko lets out a devious little chuckle as he pushes the man towards his apartment.

Maybe Jayce really was better off just enjoying the good shit. A little danger never hurts, right?

…Right?

[eve6262]

jayvik week day 6 - dancing/[dream]

He could believe it's a dream. It would be so easy, to assume that the body he touches is warm because he wants it to be and his subconscious has claimed it for itself; but there is metal everywhere and it's cold and distant and frightening aside from Viktor himself.

Coming here was a nightmare, maybe. Blitzcrank didn't fight him but he still felt the stare of two eyes that can't blink, saw every unfeeling machine that watched him with beady eyes; predators lying in wait, except even that attributes too much malice to them. And feeling means something that is infinitely less terrifying than apathy.

What's the difference between a dream and a nightmare, anyway?

That's stupid. He knows the answer to that question. He wakes up at least once a week from them, usually every night- it's him, in the snow, again, nearly dying, but uncaring of the cold that he can't really feel because Viktor is dying there. The snow seeps into the metal joints, causing both limbs to be unusable, the Hexclaw ripped apart by the storm, a body shivering in his arms before eventually falling still-

"Jayce?"

"Yes?"

"I asked you a question."

"Sorry, I got distracted."

Viktor sighs. The Viktor of his dreams would either repeat the question immediately, a relic of how they would be in their Hextech dream days (ha, now there's a relic), or know to come over and comfort him. But this one is more realistic- married to his work first and his husband second, utterly focused, only really talking for efficiency's sake. "I asked if you were aware whether the capacitors cause an uptick in the latent magic surrounding them."

"Oh. Uh, no."

"No as in they don't?"

"No as in we don't know how to check that sort of thing," he says honestly. "It's never come up. Why? Wait, latent magic in the air?"

"Hmph." Viktor slashes something with chalk. It leaves white dust in the air where he moved. "Yes, I suppose you wouldn't. It is much less taboo here, however. A mage or two has been willing to explain in exchange for metal limbs or food."

A response almost makes its way out of his mouth, but his mind's eye blinds him with images of runes floating in the air, a teleportation spell that gets them both out of this conundrum, his mother living and the man who saved them giving him a single, quiet stone. Viktor has since said that you'd need a particularly powerful mage to revive it, if you'd want to use it- not because of the power needed, but the incredible fragility of the object.

Viktor has learned a lot since they've separated. Now that they're back together, Jayce is struggling to catch up.

It's not all his fault, though. It is in large part that he simply could not research magic properly topside, what with their Demacian attitudes towards witchcraft and the like. Zaun, uncaring, has its fair share of mages and maguses, and as such Viktor has found no trouble in his efforts. Couple that with his lack of a need for extraneous funding, as his robots do the work for him and charge a pittance because the only thing he needs to survive is produced in his foundries, and you have a man who does as he pleases.

"Jayce." There is a hand on his, now. "What is it?"

"Nothing, V," he says, trying to be honest, and it kind of is nothing. Just his mind attempting to make any thoughts at all and proceeding to take that as sure, I'll give you the least helpful things you have ever wanted. "Just thinking."

"About?"

"Y'know. The past."

"Ah." Metal hinges stop, muscles freezing in place. Viktor pauses for but a moment, trying to calculate his next move, but Jayce sees it and thinks of a little Zaunite sumprat caught in the Enforcer's flashlight. Wide-eyed, unmoving, but thinking and planning and knowing. Not nearly as helpless as it seems. "It is quite late. Do you need rest?"

"You need rest too," Jayce insists.

"I do not."

"When was the last time you slept?"

Viktor pretends to look at the blackboard.

"I know you still need some sleep."

"Fine," Viktor acquiesces, and that was quick so he must have been exhausted already. Mostly a fight with himself, and if he's losing? Then Jayce should've forced him into bed days ago. "I will, but only because you are."

"Sap," comes the affectionate reply, and the two of them head into Viktor's bedroom .

This routine is easy, familiar. Viktor takes baths whenever he can be bothered, which is whenever someone is willing to help him, and Jayce takes them in morning. Thus they both strip down, with Jayce in nothing but his boxers and Viktor in a set of soft pants. There's not a word between them as Viktor cuddles up into the other's space, easily slotting into each other like two cogs in the machine.

"Sweet dreams, V."

"Sweet dreams, Jayce."

--

the vibes returneth

~Eve6262

[simpingforthisonedeer]

Chapter 4: At The Mercy

Summary: Julius' loneliness threatens to choke him but it's okay, because Aika is there to make sure he breathes. 

Oh, and he's kinda gay and there's a daughter and an assassin.

Notes: I didn’t mean to make it angsty in the beginning like that but it just kinda happened and uhh there’s abt 4599 words in this chapter sooo enjoy!

“Aika?”

Julius and Aika looked at each other in horror.

Oh, shit.

 Raymond slowly opened the door to find his niece and successor sitting incredibly close, legs crossed, and a glass in their hands as they looked at him with carefully guarded expressions. Or as carefully as two drunks could be. Aika jolted with a silent hiccup and excused herself quietly. Julius looked over at her fondly and bumped his knee with hers in sympathy.

Oh, something was definitely up. He’d thought he heard some strange noises in here, quite different from the murmur he expected to hear from standing near the doors. He thought there was something going on between the two, considering the fact that they seemed so familiar during the meeting today. Raymond thought they were perhaps friends, but they threw secret looks at each other too often and for too long to be just friends.

Looking at them now, there wasn’t a wrinkle nor a hair out of place, unnaturally so. Maybe nothing happened. Maybe they just clicked when they started talking.

Julius spoke up first.

“Aika had let me know that she is your niece, Master Raymond. She had also agreed to continue providing me with information from her network.”

“That I did. Space boy here, and Captains Marcus and Leah also know about my—our operatives here.”

“Space boy? Jayce, Evan and Ellie?”

“This man uses Spatial Magic and says he doesn’t and yeah, who else at MK headquarters?”

Raymond sighed heavily when he noticed the empty whiskey bottle. Julius’ shouldn’t be drinking yet there he was with a half glass but he only seemed slightly tipsy and with the way Aika’s looking around the room, she was completely sloshed.

“Okay, as long as you two are on the same page, we’re good,” He nodded at Julius. “Could you please drop her off at the nearest house to the Demon Skull in Hage? I know it’s asking a lot but she can’t really ride the broom in her...state. I would owe you one.”

Julius stood up and bowed his head with a polite smile.

“No, sir. I owe Miss Aika one. She helped heal the curse on my liver,” he pressed his formerly injured side to emphasize. “The least I could do is take her home.”

“Oh, that’s great! I’m glad you’re doing better now.” It didn’t surprise him that she figured out a way around his particular curse. She had always been quick on the uptake on all cases she had the chance to observe. This was no exception and he couldn’t be any prouder.

Raymond noted how he didn’t say drop her off. He watched as the two shared an amused look. Julius offered a hand to Aika and she stood up next to him and pressed into his side. 

Raymond raised an eyebrow at that. His suspicions were all but confirmed when Julius didn’t push her away. He would often keep drunk and excited women who threw themselves at him at an arm's length but he was perfectly fine with Aika. He smiled internally. While it was none of his business who his niece consorted with, he couldn’t think of a better match for her. They were both ruthlessly ambitious people with hearts of gold. He knew their professional relationship would be a match made in heaven but the personal interest they were showing in each other was a pleasant surprise. Julius was already like his son and his imminent successor, and the thought of having him around as family made him smile.

Julius picked up the file of his papers and tucked them into his robe pocket. He wrapped an arm around Aika’s shoulders and shared a smile with her.

“Oooh, I want to see how it feels to teleport,” Aika slurred as she grinned at Raymond. “Bye Uncle! Give my regards to Aunt Lydia.”

“Good night, sir. See you tomorrow.”

He nodded officiously as they phased out of the room.

Aika stumbled a bit as they suddenly found themselves on top of the Demon Skull. Julius wrapped an arm around her tightly as the wind threatened to knock her off her feet. She thanked him and cupped his cheek as she pressed a tender kiss on the other one. He stared at her, dazed.

“What was that for?” He murmured as he touched his cheek. Aika looked at him strangely then a mischievous smile lit up her face when she understood that he was genuinely confused.

“That was for going along with my charade that I was more drunk than I really was, for catching me when I was going to fall, and for having a really kissable face. All good reasons, don’t you agree?”

“Oh.” He looked away with a small smile. Aika paused for a moment when her heart skipped a beat at his smile. She was falling hard and fast, but it was exhilarating. She couldn’t help it. Maybe it may not go the way she wanted but for now, he was what she wanted. 

Though, she found it strange that he was a little shy and hesitant. He was a handsome man. Surely he was used to the company of women? Aika tilted his chin back towards her and looked at him imploringly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Julius quickly denied as he looked away again. Maybe he’s worried about the war?

“Are you worried about the war?”

“Well, yes. But it’s not about that. It’s just—” he seemed to hesitate. “I’ve never been with someone as Julius.”

She tilted her head.

“What does that mean?” He seemed alone as guilt flashed across his features.

“I’ve only ever had flings with people in disguises, with transformation magic. I was too focused on becoming Wizard King that I would either risk scandal, distraction or getting my significant other hurt. By doing this, whatever this is, I’m exposing myself.”

Aika stood silently for a moment as she watched him with a heavy heart. While a small, but a loud part of her wanted to ask about the transformation magic, the implications of everything else he had just told her caused a painful twinge in her chest. Each moment she stayed quiet, the more regret racked up on Julius’ face. He stepped back and moved to turn around and walk away but Aika stopped him.

She took both his hands reverently and sighed. She had one simple question.

“You’ve never fallen in love?”

He was taken aback by that before his eyes grew somber.

“Once,” Julius answered truthfully.

“As Julius?” He hesitated.

“I’ve fallen in love as Julius...but he never looked at me that way.”

Aika’s eyes grew wide. Well, that wasn’t expected.

“He?’”

Julius panicked.

“I meant ‘she!’ ‘She!’ It’s a woman!” He laughed weakly as he rubbed the back of his neck in defeat. “Please forget everything I said,” he extricated himself from her grasp and turned away. “I’m going to go home and pray that you forget. I had a lovely time. I look forward to working with you in the future. Good Night!” Julius clenched his hands and moved to teleport.

“Wait!” Oh, boy. He was probably going to regret this but he stayed.

“I get it!” His shoulders slackened as he swung around in surprise.

“What? Get what?”

“I like men too so I get it!”

Julius let out an incredulous laugh as the last of his anxiety melted away. This ridiculous woman! If he wasn’t falling for her already, he was now.

“But the question is, do you like women?”

A smirk crept up his face. Wasn’t it obvious? He stepped into her personal space and cocked his head at her.

“I think you know the answer to that,” he murmured as his eyes flashed darkly.

“Mm, I had to make sure,” she pressed herself flush against his front and ground her leg into his half-erect cock as he hissed in pleasure. “Because you see, I do too.” She smiled when his cock twitched against her thigh.

“You like women too?”

“Yes, you got nothing to worry about. Just another thing we share in common,” she fiddled with the collar of his fur cape as she stepped back. “Now, getting to the part where you feel exposed. We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. There is no need for anything except a professional relationship between us if that is what you want.”

“What do you want?” She paused. She wanted a lot but this wasn’t about her. His face was closed off, nearly emotionless if not for the little quirk in his eyebrow.

“Me?” He nodded. If he wanted to know, then here goes nothing.

“I want you, Julius,” she grazed his cheek with the back of her knuckles. “But if trust is what I need to make you mine, then I’ll wait. I’ll wait for the war to end if that’s what you need. I’ll begin to help you more in a professional capacity, keep talking about all things magic with you, make excuses to take you to dinner, run my hands through your hair when no one’s looking, hope that when you become Wizard King, you’ll start to open yourself up more and I’ll probably fall in love along the way, because as terrifying as it is, I see a beautiful soul and I can’t help but be attracted to it like a moth to flame,” she wiped the involuntary tears that gathered at the edge of her lashes as she swallowed the lump in her throat. Due to her drunken disposition, she had basically laid her soul bare and Gods above, that was terrifying. She was really a dumb drunk.

Aika looked up at him with no small amount of hope as Julius stared at her, dazed. He felt a warmth blossom in his heart that made his toes curl and his hairs stand on the end. He had never been on the receiving end of such raw and emotional confession. Love was a far off dream for Julius ever since his very unrequited feelings for Zara, whom he had admired for being the shining example of a Magic Knight, then grew to love because there was nothing more charming than his smile.

Then here she stood, hope in her eyes as wind swept through her hair behind her, a fervent confession hanging between them. Not once during the night they had met and today had Aika never called him anything besides Julius. He wasn’t Captain Julius to her, or even the next Wizard King. He was just Julius. Not some fake name, fake face, or personality. He could belong. The realization made him feel like his chest was going to explode.

Julius held her face between his hands and pressed his forehead to hers as he composed himself. She wrapped her arms around him and cradled the back of his head and nudged him to bury his face in her neck.

Aika felt her heart beat like the rain as his breath quivered against her neck. Did she say something wrong? Was he okay?

“Could you,” he swallowed thickly as he tightened his hold around her. “Could you please just hold me tonight?”

“Of course,” Aika exhaled in relief. He pulled back and his eyes were slightly glassy and his face somber.

“Are you alri—”

He claimed her lips with his in an explosion of desperation. She wound herself tightly around him as she arched into the kiss. He kissed her till they couldn’t breathe. He kissed her with all the words he wanted to say but couldn’t. He poured his all his hope and thanks into it, hoping her brilliant mind would somehow catch it.

Aika tried to pull back to look at him and make sure he was okay, but his lips would seek hers again, open-mouthed and deliberate, determined to consume her whole.

Julius finally let go, slowly, his fingers still buried in her hair.

She found it hard to open her eyes as she swayed lightly on her feet.

“I like you too…” She blinked up at him with wide eyes when he spoke.

“You are the first person to not fawn over me because I’m a Magic Knight Captain or something or another. Talking to you was really fun,” He seemed a little shy to admit it but Aika smiled gratefully. She liked the fact that he liked to communicate too. “and you have a very kissable face too,” he said with a laugh. Aika drew him into a short kiss as they both giggled.

“You still want me to hold you?” She took his hand and looked searchingly in the direction of her house. Julius resisted a blush.

“If that’s okay with you. I don’t even know why I asked.”

“It’s completely fine. As long as you’re okay with my daughter accosting us in the morning.”

Aika winced when he whipped his head around. Whoops, that slipped by accident. Tomorrow was Saturday and a large part of her was always happy to see her daughter on the weekends, so of course it slipped.

“Daughter?”

“Er, yes...She’s ten and I only see her on the weekends.” He looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time.

“Wh-what happened to the father? If you don’t mind me asking…”

“I don’t mind and he’s still around. We share custody that is all,” she assured him as they walked to the edge of the demon skull.

“...Was he your husband?”

“Oh no! I was never married!” Aika laughed. “He just wanted my firstborn in exchange for a favor. That’s all.”

“What?!” He looked at her hysterically. “What kind of favor?”

“I mean, it’s a long story but he changed the tide of a war at my request and he wanted my firstborn so I instead made a deal to have his child,” she shrugged. “Life was strange back then.”

Julius gaped at her.

“I have so many questions.”

They looped arms as they floated off and down the demon skull. 

Aika told a story of a man she met who called himself Arthur. She told him how Arthur changed the course of history many times in exchange for riches or favors. She explained how when she was trying for a child with him, she had become good friends with him and he agreed to let her raise the baby for a year and then share custody. She left out the part where he was actually a fae and only agreed to father a child with her, a human, as part of an unspoken eugenics experiment. They both were secretly fascinated by the fact that a half fae, half human hybrid would almost certainly have two attributes and therefore two grimoires.

“That’s very nice of him,” Julius laughed. This was the most bizarre story he had ever heard in his life.

“I know! They come every weekend so Holly could spend time with me.” Her face broke into a grin. “She’s amazing.”

Julius looked at her with keen interest as she described Holly to him. Moments like these were when he regretted the fact that he didn’t start a family sooner.

“She has blonde hair, my eyes and the most adorable freckles across her nose and cheeks,” Aika giggled in remembrance. They turned right past a thicket of trees. “She may be young but she is determined to be well-versed in world politics and—” She immediately tensed up when her house came into view. She noticed that the lights were on in the living room of her house and the mana masking the fresh remnants of forbidden magic in the backyard was gone.

Julius looked curiously between Aika and the modest-looking two-story house.

“Is that where you live?”

She nodded tightly as her eyes roved over the front of the house, scanning for forced entry.

“Your family seems to be up,” he murmured disappointedly, completely oblivious.

“Julius,” she hissed. “I live alone and Holly does not come on weekdays. It’s a rule we enforce religiously for safety.”

Aika let go of him and flexed her wrists. The wards around her house were also down, meaning someone broke the stone tablet that holds the mana in place.

“Be on guard. We may have a home invader on our hands. I’ll explain later.”

Julius’ back immediately straightened, his eyes sober as he looked at her searchingly.

“Are you sure it’s a cause for concern,” he whispered loudly as they moved silently towards her home.

“Yes, I get assassins sent after me at least once a month. I wasn’t kidding when I said I got chased around the world for my magic.”

He threw her an alarmed look as she shook her head, assuring him that she will explain later.

They wordlessly jumped over the walls surrounding the house and creeped towards one of the windows that gave them a view into the living room. Aika peeked in carefully and nearly choked on her breath when she noticed who sat on the armchair directly facing the front door.

Julius cursed softly behind her.

“Is that your daughter?”

“Yes…”

Holly’s hands were in her lap, covered by a blanket but it was obvious that they were tied together along with her ankles also covered by the blanket. Her eyes were alert and focused resolutely on the front door, no doubt waiting for her arrival.

Aika scanned the living room with measured breaths. Anyone who dared to touch her daughter were going to feel the wrath of a thousand Suns. She knew they couldn’t do real harm to her because that was simply the nature of Holly’s magic. Her spatial magic simply didn’t allow anything to touch her if she willed it. But if Holly let herself be restrained, it meant she was waiting for either Arthur or Aika to deal with the threat.

Where on Earth is Arthur?

“We should go in through the front door,” Julius looked anxiously at Holly. “The unsub is probably hoping to ambush us as we interact with Holly since they went through the lengths to cover her restraints up.”

Aika agreed.

“We have code for anticipating surprise attacks like this. I’ll ask for the time and she’ll tell me which direction the unsub is hiding or will come from if they don’t attack already,”

They linked hands and nodded, all psyched up. They stood in front of the door and Aika raised a hand as she took a deep breath, and knocked.

“I’m home!” she exclaimed with false cheer as she opened the door.

“Hey, mom—Oh. You brought someone home.”

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind,” she looked knowingly at Holly.

“What time is it? I already made some bread and tomato soup if you want to eat.”

Holly exhaled sharply, her eyes darted behind her.

“It’s really late. I think it’s 11 o’clock.”

Immediately, a dark figure jumped out of the closet door at Aika’s eleven o’clock, which was right behind Holly’s chair as they threw something in Julius’ direction. 

Julius caught it inside a light blue orb as his hand hovered in front of him.

The attacker held a dagger into Holly’s neck as their hood fell, revealing a gray-haired, fit man, who seemed to be approaching his fifties.

“Surrender now, Sarkany, or yer daughter’s dead, ” he growled in a foreign tongue. Aika vaguely noted it was a Thessalonican dialect as she scanned the man for any identifiers like a crest, tattoo or anything that could show any affiliation.

“Where’s your father, Holly?”

“Dad’s in the closet,” she swallowed thickly as she grew greener. “His daggers are iron.”

Aika tsked. Iron was deadly poisonous to the fae and could make half-fae sick. But she wasn’t going to be worried about Arthur because tonight was the waxing moon and his innate Moon Magic would neutralize any iron poisoning.

The man snarled as he pressed the dagger harder against Holly’s neck.

“I don’t think you understand the seriousness of my words. Perhaps a cut or two would drive the point home?”

“No, I don’t think you understand,” Julius began in Greek, much to Aika’s surprise. “If you don’t let go of her now, there will be a hole in your chest,” He raised a spheroid of his mana encircled by Roman numerals.

She waved away the many questions that popped up as she urged him to put him hand down.

“It’s alright, Julius,” Aika nodded permissively at Holly. “Come here, Holly.”

Holly slackened in her seat and phased through the dagger and restraints holding her in place. She turned to her attacker with a feral smile as he was caught off-guard by her movement. 

Then suddenly, he was slammed against the wall as his dagger clattered to the floor, his form pinned against the wall like a cross by an unknown force.

Holly walked up to her mother with an overly-pleased smile and leaned forward expectantly.

“Good job, Holly,” she praised with a laugh as she patted her head, subtly healing the little knick in her daughter’s neck. “You’ll make a brilliant operative one day.”

“Operative? I’m going to be the Queen. ”

Aika huffed. Her daughter wanted to be the Faerie Queen, a title earned by passing a series of rigorous tests, evaluations of intentions, and demonstration of significant power capable enough to protect all fae. It was one of the most difficult jobs in the world and she couldn’t be any prouder as a mother to see her daughter dreaming big and working hard.

“Woah! What kind of magic is that!?” Julius exclaimed, enthralled by what he had just witnessed. “You just passed through the knife and blanket! Is that some kind of evolved version of spatial magic?!”

“...yes?”

“Oh my god, that’s so cool! I’m Julius by the way!” he offered a hand for her to shake. “Nice to meet you!”

“Hello, Mr. Julius...Nice to meet you too,” she threw a baffled expression at Aika as she slowly shook his hand. “I’m Holly.”

Aika examined the hovering object inside Julius’ spell. He badgered Holly with questions while she threw concerned looks at their captive, who strained against the invisible force holding him in place. Aika paled when she realized what the assassin threw. It was a flat circular token with explosion runes inscribed onto them. Anything that touches the flat side would explode irreparably. If it touched a human being, it would be an instant kill.

The assassin threw that at Julius. He hurt Holly and Arthur. Her vision flashed red.

In a blink, Aika was on the other side of the room where she threw a solid punch across the man’s jaw. His head whipped to the side and spat blood as it dribbled down his chin.

“What’s your name?”

He grinned toothily, showing off his bloody teeth.

“You’re already dead, Sarkany. We will all be dead.”

She punched him again. This time his head lolled unsteadily, skirting the edge of unconsciousness. Julius tried to turn Holly away from the scene but she shrugged his hand off and shook her head. Her mom was usually far more composed but today was unusual. 

Holly sniffed and nearly gagged when her incredibly sensitive nose picked up the smell of whiskey and something musky coming from the man next to her and her mom. She scrutinized Julius and raised an eyebrow when she noticed a faint, blue, star tattoo on his forehead similar to the one her mom was sporting. She also noticed that he was this kingdom’s mage warrior, a Magic Knight, she faintly recalled.

“Let’s start again. What’s your name?”

“Sven,” he rasped.

“Sven. Why are we all going to die, Sven?”

“I hurt your daughter and her father,” he wheezed. “I attempted to hurt your Greek friend over there,” he looked up at her with a crooked smile. “You’re going to kill me and the moment I die, I’m taking everyone in this village down with me.”

Aika’s heart stuttered at his words. There were no visible runes on him so she tore his tunic apart and stared at the bright, red runes carved into his chest. If he died, he was going to use the release of his mana to power an explosion big enough to wipe out the countryside. If she spared his life, she would have to make sure he didn’t kill himself. That wasn’t going to happen going by the crazed look in his eyes. 

Aika hovered her hand over his chest and tried to undo the carved runes but just as she predicted, he had mana resistance. She used her last potion on Julius and the potion wasn’t on the market yet.

“What’s wrong?” Julius padded over silently to her side.

“He is going to kill himself if we hold him captive and when he does, everything in a 2 kilometer radius is going to be destroyed by an explosion.”

She closed her eyes and concentrated. She had a bad feeling about this. She needed to make sure.

Aika sped up the time of the mana around her and strained her senses to pick up a sound, a vision or even a smell.

She coughed violently when the smell of smoke and burning flesh filled up her lungs and her ears rang faintly from an echo of a detonation.

“Aika, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she stared hard at Sven as she swallowed the lump in her throat. There was only one way that the explosion was inevitable. “Holly, can you open his mouth wide?”

Holly flicked her wrist and an invisible force pried Sven’s mouth open. Aika and Julius strained to look inside and their eyes widened when they noticed more runes. These ones were the same as the ones on his chest but they only needed blood to activate, blood which was already in his mouth.

He was dying anyway. His mana was slowly being sapped to power the runes and his chest was expanding outwards to build up an explosion.

“Holly, let go of him!” She needed to get him as far away from here as possible. 

“Wait, what? What are you doing?” Julius exclaimed as Aika picked up Sven from where he crumpled on the floor. She jogged to the front door and kicked it open.

“Julius, watch over Holly for me please!”

“Wait, I can contain the explosion!” He called out as he followed her outside. She whipped her head around.

“Are you sure?! This is forbidden magic. I don’t think it’s that easy.”

Julius nodded, his brows furrowed in determination.

“We need distance but I’m sure I could do it.”

“I’m going to throw him high. Could you contain him then?”

He nodded, his fingers clawed as he gathered his mana.

Aika put her arms under Sven’s armpits and held him tight and began spinning to gather momentum. She spun until she was blur then changed course, tilted sideways and flung him straight up as she accelerated his speed with a touch of her magic.

Julius shot his spell after Sven’s ragdoll form and it caught up to him when he broke through the clouds.

For a moment, his prone body stayed suspended inside the spell, and with a flash, he exploded.

From where Julius, Aika and Holly stood, they heard a faint bang and a small ball of light up for a few seconds before it was silent.

Aika felt faint as everything caught up to her. She collapsed to her knees in relief and buried her face in her hands.

“Oh my fucking god, we all nearly died.”

Notes: I have a genuine question: Is my writing ok? Like idk I think its readable and im not like insecure abt it but no one besides my beta comments on my writing so idk what yall thoughts are.

Next chapter we meet Arthur, some hand-holding ;) and the final battle begins.

[the-twinventors]

First Friend

How many days had it been since either twin had left the apartment? They’d honestly lost track. They’d been attending their classes via video chat, having project parts brought to their front door, and had even taken temporary paid leave from work. They literally couldn’t go outside without feeling sick to their stomachs anymore, and they hated it.

Every time they set foot outside their front door, they saw everyone in the courtyard, saw all the heads turn in their direction, and they just couldn’t go any further. It’d been fine when Max had still been around, but now he was cruising around the area his ideal apartment was, job hunting there. That area was outside the campus boundaries, which meant the twins were on their own. And neither of them wanted to distract him from his own mission to escape the prison they’d called home in Red Gate City - the last thing they wanted was for him to have to go back there.

But his absence meant that they were stuck.

And now, their fear of leaving their apartment was coming back to bite them.

“Uhh, Jayce...” Stella looked over her shoulder anxiously. “Did you eat the last of the cereal?”

“Hmm?” Jayce looked over from where he was sat on the couch. “Yeah, when I woke up. Why?”

The younger twin’s face fell, and she peeked into the cupboard, double checking to confirm what she already knew. Then she opened the fridge, peered in there. Finally, she turned to look at her brother, her face white as a sheet. “... can’t believe I’m saying this, but... we actually ran out of food.”

“What?!” Jayce leapt up, staggering slightly from his weak leg. “You mean we’re actually out of everything?! We gotta restock?!”

“Yep.” Stella leaned back against the fridge, raking her hands through her hair. “... guess this is what we get for putting it off, huh...?”

“Fuck...” The older twin stood up, hands already trembling. “... OK, let’s get it over with... just keep your head down and hope we don’t have a total meltdown in the middle of the store...”

Reluctantly, the twins got all their things together, then made their way to the door. Taking a deep, hesitant breath, they stepped out, locking the door behind them, and shakily walked down the hall, linking hands tightly. They wouldn’t lie, they were terrified. Axel may still be in the hospital, but they both knew that so many people still believed his stupid rumours. If those people saw the twins unguarded, there was no doubt that they would be immediately assaulted, regardless of who was around. And this time, they might not make it. They were pretty sure that if there was a next time, their attackers would make sure they weren’t coming back.

Which was why, as they turned down the hall and saw someone approaching, they both froze, trapped in fight-or-flight mode. The stranger, a red wolf, peered at them through his glasses worriedly. “... umm... a-are you guys OK?”

Slowly, the twins relaxed. Yes... they recognised him now. He lived just down the hall from them. They hadn’t really interacted beyond polite head nods as they passed each other, because he was studying something else, but from what they could tell, he seemed like an agreeable person.

“... w-we’re OK...” Jayce swallowed. “... j-just... g-gotta go grocery shopping...”

“Y-you sure?” The wolf took some hesitant steps towards them. “No offence, but, umm... you look like you’re gonna throw up...”

“Well, w-wouldn’t you be scared if you got beaten half to death in an alley in the middle of the night?” Stella crossed her arms, shivering. “We can’t even walk out our apartment door without freaking out anymore...”

“... umm, what about that green dog? W-where’s he?”

“Max? He’s elsewhere in the city right now. G-getting his own life together.” Why could neither twin stop stammering. “We-- we’d be fine if he was here...”

The wolf paused for a moment, considering. Then he looked back up. “I-- I don’t have anything else on today... d’you want me t-to tag along? I-I’m no bodyguard, but-- but you might feel better having someone with you... a-and I wanna get to know you guys better. I never believed those rumours Axel spread... you two seem way too nice.”

The look of relief on both twins’ faces was instant. Yes, no one would risk attacking them if someone was clearly with them. And when they were at risk of facing Kyron’s wrath... and what was that? He hadn’t believed the rumours?! Were they actually about to make their first proper friend on campus?!

“That-- that’d be awesome! Thank you so much!” Stella’s frame instantly relaxed with a nervous giggle, and her brother followed suit. “Umm... w-what was your name?”

“Oh, uhh, G-Gadget. Gadget North. A-and you guys are Jayce and Stella Hope, r-right?” The wolf, now dubbed Gadget, smiled equally nervously. “I-I hope we can get along...”

“Yeah, us too!” Jayce smiled in relief. “Maybe we can use this time to talk a bit about ourselves, get to know each other!”

“Sure! A-and maybe I can hang out with you in your apartment afterwards? I-I don’t have anywhere else to be...”

“Yeah, that’d be awesome! You can help us unpack the groceries and then game with us! Do you play video games?”

“A-a few, though they’re not as fun alone...”

“Well, we can fix that! The three of us can have video game nights!”

The incessant, happy chattering of all three canines filled the hallway as they made their way down the stairs, completely distracted from any and all anxiety as the first seeds of friendship were planted.

[friendlyneighborhoodcapricorn]

hey there, i hope you're doing good~ i saw your requests were open so i wanted to ask for an arcane and grishaverse matchup if that's alright 💛 (i'm also interested in the mcu but if that's too much alr, then just the first 2 are perfectly fine!! no pressure 🤗)

i don't wanna reveal too much abt my looks but ig my notable feature is i'm short. even my hands and feet are tiny 🥲 some also say i have a resting b*tch face that makes me seem unapproachable and serious at first but depending on how close we are, i'm actually either the one making the jokes or the one laughing at the jokes. around new ppl, i can be shy but i sorta just try to blend in and mirror their personalities. on a good day, i'm passionate, amiable, creative, and altruistic. on a bad day, i'm distant, stubborn, quick-tempered, and self-deprecating.

my hobbies are writing and playing video games. i'm pretty much interested in any form of art bcs of my passion for people and psychology, especially the stories every person has to tell. my love language is quality time; i'm the type to want to do even mundane daily things together in the same space with my loved ones. i'm bisexual with a slight preference for men i think. if i have ideal types, they're probably the "golden retriever himbo" types ngl 🤣 but also ppl who fight for justice, freedom, authenticity, and just a better world in general, both for themselves and others.

thank you so much!! take your time and i just hope you have fun with this 🥺

Hi! I'm doing fine, thank you! I'm totally cool with doing all three :)

Let's start with arcane...

Jayce Talis

Look, if anyone fits the 'golden retriever himbo type', it's gonna be Jayce. He somehow manages to be brilliant and a total himbo lol.

But! Jayce is also the type who wants to fight for a better world, and that’s what really had you falling for him.

Jayce needs someone who’s good at listening, and considering you love the stories people have to tell, I feel like you’d make a good listener.

He invites you to the lab almost every other day. He really values your opinion and wants to hear what you think since you look at it from a perspective that isn't a scientist's/engineer's.

Speaking of the lab, of course you and Viktor get along as well, if only because you both enjoy teasing Jayce.

Whenever he's not at the lab, he likes going for walks around the city with you. Sometimes, you'll just sit on a bench and watch the people walking by, making up the most ridiculous stories about their lives.

For the MCU, I match you with…

Steve Rogers

Altruism is literally his job, so that's already one thing you have in common.

This guy will hype you up. He will hype anyone up, really, but he makes even more of an effort when it's you. He's not just gonna sit around while you're bringing yourself down.

Introduce him to video games. You won't regret it, it's hilarious.

One of you guys' favourite type of date is going to a museum. It consists of a lot of teasing stuff by saying that something's younger than him. If it's a war museum, or one dedicated to superheroes or something, Steve will whisper to you which "facts" they got wrong.

Bucky will fill you in on embarrassing childhood stories about Steve. Steve would complain, but he loves the way you laugh at them.

If you ever can't reach something, he just very randomly lifts you up. It's funny and terrifying at once because sometimes you don't even realize he's behind you until he does that.

For the Grishaverse, I match you with…

Alina Starkov

If you're willing to share it with her, she loves reading your writing.

Alina is an artist herself, so sometimes hanging out together is just sitting together while she draws and you write. Occasionally either of you will say something, but you're both silent for the most part. You don't need to talk to enjoy each other's company.

You've tried time and time to describe how her powers look, but no words could ever do it justice.

If you're a Grisha as well, you've definitely tried to see what happens when you combine your powers. Nikolai had to beg the two of you to do it outside, rather than blowing up yet another room.

Both of you have a great sense of humor and there have been times where you had little joke competitions, where you just tried to see who could make the best joke.

I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it!! Thank you so much for the request, and have a lovely day/night :)

[echelonlab-blog]

Bound By Ink -- Chapter 40

Disclaimer: Fiction.

Warnings: None

Tagging: @hazeleyedleto @msroxyblog @letojokerownsme @miss-shannanigans @snewsome756   @maliciousalishious   @nikkitasevoli@meghan12151977@sanellv@ambolton@bradlea23@spillinginkwithlove@alexis7215@dezmarz@pezziecoyote@whoistheprettiest@avaj99@iridescxntsolitude@pheenixpeterson@guccilowell@blondiefrommars@rowen1976@phoebehalliwell1984@thathipstaninja@darthjokerisyourfather@letsbemybatman @prettymisc@lylabell2013@mandyglam@pandaliciouz@just-me-obsessing@echelon-1969@carolinapb-me@marilyndioncre

     The next few days were insanely crazy with Jayce recovering from surgery and my refusal to go home, even for a shower for fear of Stephanie returning. I hated that fucking bitch and she would not go near my son again. Ryan and his parents came by to visit and it was nice for Jayce to see a friendly face. I thought for sure that’s why he was smiling, but it wasn’t. It all became clear later that afternoon when Sara popped in for a quick visit. She stayed for about thirty minutes and Jayce was already making plans with her for another date. I didn’t want to embarrass him, but once we were home, we would have a long talk about the fact that he needs to take things slow.

  It was just after evening rounds when I gave Shannon my keys and asked him to go to my apartment to pack me some clothing and a few other items. Oh my God, how strange it felt to put my faith and confidence in someone again. I was willingly entrusting him with not only my heart but Jayce’s as well. If this ended badly, I would likely be broken down and emotionally destroyed, but I wasn’t even worried for myself, I was worried for Jayce. He and Shannon quickly developed this amazing bond and had their own little fist bump and all. I could see the silent communication in their eyes as I vocalized my concerns about Stephanie and Jayce’s failure to tell me how bad he had been feeling before this latest episode. As much as it warmed my heart to witness the bond Jayce had developed with all of Shannon’s family, at the same time, it terrified me.

 Unlike my cranky mother, Connie showed up with some food for me and Jayce and then ended up sticking around for a few hours, entertaining my son with stories. Barbara only stayed for a few hours the day after surgery and felt content enough with calling to check on him daily. She fluctuated, either inserting herself way too much in my personal life, or observing from a safe distance. The only problem was you never knew which Barbara you would incur. Connie was so classy and cool, the polar opposite of my mother. I recognized she could never be the annoying mother in law type.

  Shannon entered the room carrying a backpack, setting it down on the end of Jayce’s bed. “Hey Mom, I didn’t know you’d be here.” He leaned down to kiss her face and then moved closer to me. “Alright baby, I got everything you asked for. Why don’t you go ahead and shower and I’ll hang out with Jayce?”

 “I should be going too, it’s getting late.” Connie stood, covering the veggie lasagna she made. I grinned as she moved toward me, wrapping her arms around me. “You call me if you need anything at all.”

  “I will, thank you so much for the yummy food. I was starving to death.”

 “Of course.” She took a few steps over to the bed to pat Jayce on the arm. “I had a nice time with you Jayce, I just hope next time I see you, it will be outside of a hospital.”

 My son was so well mannered and thanked her for the visit, causing me to smile proudly. Sometimes he could be such a gentleman and other times I wanted to smack him. After she exited, I closed myself in the tiny bathroom to shower, taking with me the backpack. I was so delighted to find out that he had gone shopping because I didn’t have any of the stuff he brought in my bathroom.

  I slipped out of my clothing and took one of the fastest showers in history. I then got dressed and covered my feet with the thick, furry socks he bought for me. God, that man could be so thoughtful. The young nurse was chatting with Jayce about his pain meds when I retreated from the bathroom. We spent a few minutes talking about the fact that Jayce may be discharged the next day, and then she was gone.

   Shannon was stretched out on my makeshift bed. “You look tired baby.”

 “I’m kinda exhausted, it’s been stressful trying to get comfy in here and ugh.. I can’t wait to sleep in a real bed!” I knew I was whining, but I didn’t care.

“Mom you can go home, I’ll be fine,” Jayce muttered from his bed. I probably shouldn’t have complained in front of him and made him feel guilty.

 Shannon looked at Jayce and back at me. “I’ll stay with Jayce tonight if you want to go home or just sleep at my place, which is actually closer by the way.”

  Folding my arms, I frowned. “Not gonna happen, so drop it, both of you.”

 I started moving things around, what I always did when I was stressed out. I know they thought I didn’t see it, but their silent conversation was happening again. “I saw that!” I snarled, making Jayce’s room all neat and tidy.

 “Saw what?” Jayce asked.

 Whirling around, I shifted my weight to one foot and frowned, smirking with one raised eyebrow and nodding at my son. “The two of you.”

 “Hey, I didn’t say a word. We’re innocent.” Shannon added, giving yet another failed wink to Jayce.

  Once I stopped cleaning, I walked over and stood in front of Shannon. “You’re in my bed, sir.”

    “Sir? Mmmmm... I could make so many comments right now, but since there’s a child present, I won’t.” He giggled listening to Jayce’s gagging noises and leaned forward, forcing me onto the small fold out couch. “Lot of room babe. Guess I’ll stay with you guys tonight.”

There really wasn’t, but after turning off the light, I got comfy lying partly on his chest and didn’t want him to leave me. “It’s fine if your arm goes dead and you want to leave, I’ll understand.”

 He kissed my head. “I’m not leaving babe.” We both dozed off. Unfortunately, during the night we were startled by the nurse checking on Jayce periodically. I just knew I’d wake up with a migraine.

Shannon was up before me and went out to get coffee. He returned with Starbucks and then let me know that he wanted to go check on something that he and Jared had been working on.

 As Jayce was eating breakfast, the doctor came in and checked Jayce’s incision. I tried to sit back and listen, allowing Jayce to carry on his own conversation with the Dr. When he was finished, I was told that my son would definitely be discharged.

I knew it would be hours before they got everything ready to go, so I sent Shannon a text. Jayce was so antsy, steadily texting Sara and whining about wanting to get dressed in his own clothing. It’s terrible when you know something is coming, but you have to patiently wait for it. I could so relate, the back of my hair was knotty and I just wanted to go home and shower in my bathroom and sleep in my own bed!

  Shannon even showed up before they reappeared with the discharge papers just before three in the afternoon. I listened carefully to all of the instructions and Shannon grabbed the bags. Jayce was wheeled down to the exit, and we loaded up and left the hospital, finally.

I was expecting to be headed in the direction of my apartment, but instead, we ended up at Shannon’s house. I looked at him confused and he giggled. “Come on, grumpy pants.”

Jayce and I followed him inside, where he directed us to the guest bedroom. When he opened the door, I looked inside and then back at him. “Okay...”

 “This is Jayce’s room, for when he’s here...... unless you take me up on my offer and move in.” My mouth dropped open because I didn’t even agree to this. I looked around, realizing that this is what he had been working on today. He had taken his time to decorate the bedroom so nice and neat.

 Jayce already went inside and sat on the bed. “I love it! Thank you so much! Mom... please!”

[viktorredemptionarc]

Fic: Philosophy of self [JayceViktor]

A/N: Available @ AO3 too. This is the punk band au nobody asked for but I live to give.

Word Count: 9.857.

Characters/Relationships: Jayce/Viktor.

Rating: T for language.

Summary: Punk concerts are where miracles happen.

'Cause it's all that he wants, and he wants to be free.

Freedom cannot be received.

It's something to be conquered, not given. That's what Viktor does when he plays every Sunday night since he left college, drenched in sweat under the neon lights, the floor shaking beneath his feet as his heart tries to beat its way out of his chest. It's his way of fighting to be free, he pursues the feeling that he gets after they're done and he's standing on the stage with his ears ringing and unable to catch his breath, when he knows that it's never going to be the same because he's never going to be as free as he is right then.

He looks down at the crowd, obscured and hard to make out with the spotlight shining on him. His fingers hurt, his throat burns, his legs are shaking. Time doesn't feel real, he doesn't feel real. He exhales. Vi hits him in the back, hard, and he turns to her as she yells something, he doesn't know what, and the moment is shattered and he's back to being just Viktor, on the stage, with the strap of his bass digging into his neck.

"See you next week, asshats!" shouts Vi, into de mic, and the crowd cheers. Suddenly, everything is too much. Too little. Never enough but always overwhelming. Hot and cold.

Viktor turns on his heels and runs backstage.

-x-

Jayce has never felt so tired. Too tired to function, tired enough to pass out, and way too tired to even think about his goddamned thesis. Yet sleep eludes him, his brain set to overdrive, so he does the unthinkable and follows Vi into one of the most awful pubs he's seen in his life.

The place is dreadful but Vi has been nagging him to go to one of her concerts for what feels like, and might actually have been, years. He owes it to her, in a way, and she's the only friend he has so might as well use what's looking to be a long, sleepless, night to indulge her. Which doesn't make having to navigate through a myriad of bodies, some of them spiky, to get to the front any less annoying.

Vi's smile when he does get there, looking down at him from the stage, is kind of worth it. He tries to see her bandmates but the spotlights are off in the back and she's the only one that the light from the front can reach. Jayce watches as she turns her smile to the rest of the crowd, grabs the mic, and shatters Jayce's ears with a scream. It seems like everyone behind him is trying to get closer to the stage at once, pushing him, and just when he's about to turn around and yell at someone, the spotlights blind him and Vi strums a guitar.

His first thought after the sound fades is that he's too close to the speakers and his head is going to explode. Then it all starts again and he can't hear his own thoughts. The drums are too fast, too frantic, for him to follow. The bass is so heavy his whole body thrums to its rhythm. Vi's voice cuts through the noise like a war cry.

It's terrible.

Jayce feels alive.

And a bit nauseous, but it'll pass. Right there and right then; with Vi spitting out word after word about love, and violence, and war, he feels like everything in his life will come to an end eventually. The thought is as liberating as it's terrifying. Vi winks, at him or at the crowd who even cares, and Jayce realizes that he's laughing. At the idea of the finality of things in a punk concert with a spike digging into his spine, his ears buzzing, his entire being shaking, and his heart in his throat.

It goes on and on, waves of sound and movement and his own body swaying to it all, until suddenly it isn't happening anymore and Jayce doesn't know how long it's been since he could listen to the things happening inside his own brain. Vi struts around the stage, hits one of her bandmates in the back, and screams. Jayce can't hear shit until she calls him and everyone down there an asshat and he catches the guy with the bass running into the backstage without a word. Vi sticks her tongue out, strums her guitar, turns off the mic and drops it on the ground before following him with the drummer. Jayce thinks that she's Vi's girlfriend? Maybe? No idea.

About anything, really. Not his place in that pub, nor his place in the world as a whole. Why is he so tired if he's only been standing around laughing like an idiot as Vi jumps on stage?

"Hey, Jaycerino!" Vi crashes into him, drops her arms around his neck as she jumps, and Jayce almost loses his balance. "Come backstage, enjoy the privileges of being my friend."

She jumps off and he follows her, only half aware of what he's doing. He should go back home. It's late. How late? He doesn't know. There are many things he doesn't know, and the thought makes him anxious but he doesn't have time to dwell on it because Vi's kicking a door open and there the rest of her band is.

Jayce stays in the threshold, unsure of what the right move to make is. His emotions are out of control and it's pissing him off, and Vi's maybe girlfriend is staring at him, and fuck it. Fuck it all. He enters the room after Vi, closes the door and loses all his bravado once Vi's too far to get comforted by her just being by his side.

"So this is Jayce. Jayce, this is Caitlyn and that one sulking over there is Viktor," she points at Caitlyn, who he knows is Vi's girlfriend, and then at the other guy. He's sitting on the floor, legs crossed, his hair in disarray and his eyes dodging Jayce's. He doesn't look like he belongs in a punk band. What he does look is familiar, and Jayce frowns at him. Which makes Viktor frown back.

"What," he barks, voice gruff and low as he drags his hand across his hair, and the pieces of the puzzle come together. Jayce knows him, but he's changed a bit over the years. He's rougher around the edges now.

"We were classmates at college," Jayce says, but judging by how Viktor's frown deepens that wasn't the right way to keep the conversation going. "Viktor Evans, right?"

"Viktor Evans, yes. Who are you?"

That stings. Partly because he remembers talking to Viktor, and also because Jayce assumed that everyone knew him in his year. For better or for worse, just generally for worse because he's a jackass. Or so he's been told.

"Jayce Sawyer," he walks Viktor's way and offers him a hand. Viktor doesn't shake it, he kind of gives it a half-assed slap and then grabs it to use it to stand up. Jayce stumbles, caught off guard, but they manage to stay up and in one piece. "You dropped out, right?"

Vi makes a hissing sound by his left and he glances her way. She looks alarmed. Why.

Viktor walks past him and out of the room shoving him with his shoulder on the way. Caitlyn snorts. Jayce blinks at the spot where Viktor had been.

"What was that," he asks, turning to look at Vi, and she shrugs.

"You being a fucking idiot is what it was," she says. "Who even asks that, Jayce?"

Social norms are very confusing, he's realizing. As he's done many times before, but it feels like a revelation.

"It's true, though. Why can't I ask?"

Vi's looking at him like she does when she's going to tell him that he can't actually be that stupid. It happens often. Caitlyn doing too, though, that's new. Not a development he particularly likes.

"I don't even know what to tell you. Just get your stupid ass in gear and apologize, because that was fucking rude."

They're very uptight to be punks, he thinks, but he does let Vi save Viktor's number to his phone and promises her that he'll call.

-x-

It's been a week since, against his better judgment, Jayce went to that concert. He's been agonizing over that apology he owes Viktor for the entirety of it, with Vi nagging him via text every single day. It's not his fault that it's hard to apologize to someone when you don't think you should and when you're a disaster at socializing to begin with. Yet Vi won't be deterred and he breaks on Saturday afternoon and calls.

"Who are you?" Viktor says, on the other end of the line, and Jayce is kind of amused by the feeling of déjà vu.

"Jayce, don't hang up," he waits, expecting Viktor to hang up on him anyway, but all he hears through the static is a sigh that he takes as his cue to go on. "I'm sorry for what I did the other day? Whatever it was."

"I don't care, okay? Just let me be. I don't know you, pretend you don't know me."

"I don't know you, either," Jayce says, before he can get a grip of himself, and curses under his breath.

"Yeah, that's the attitude. Anything else?" Well, now that he knows who he is many things else. Like why even drop out when he was the only one in their class who was on Jayce's level. But he has a feeling that it would be rude as well, for whatever reason, and manages to keep that one in.

"Not...really? When's your next concert?"

"Tomorrow. Midnight, same place. Try not to come dressed like you're going to the yacht club."

Viktor hangs up on him before he can reply.

-x-

According to Vi, he doesn't look like that much of a rich twat.

"More like the kind of guy who would swear on an Elvis album," she says, tossing a shirt she brought with her across the room and into his lap. "You stood up like a sore thumb, kinda out of place."

"How did I look out of place. I'm good looking. I know that. That's half the job done, isn't it?"

"Jayce, you wore a flannel shirt buttoned up to your neck. It was embarrassing. You might be hot, but you're also like the biggest nerd on Earth," she throws a pair of black trousers at him too and he wonders if they came with the rips or if she ripped them off herself. Knowing Vi, it's probably gonna be the latter. "Try those on. I brought you some boots too, just so you don't get any ideas about wearing fucking loafers."

He barely even complains while changing and is very proud of himself for that, taking on account that he's had to jump around like an idiot to get in the stupid trousers. Thankfully, Vi's being polite, for a change, and looking down at her phone until she hears the zipper of the jeans going up.

"How do they look?" Jayce asks, already feeling like an idiot in them, but Vi smiles and it isn't that bad anymore.

"Better than your stupid khakis. Put the boots on already, we're gonna be late."

He does put them on, and a leather jacket that he finds in the depths of his wardrobe. Vi tousles his hair, hushing him when he tries to protest, and at least asks for permission before going to town with the eyeliner. Wearing it is odd and Jayce expects to look ridiculous and more out of place than ever. Once he looks in the mirror he has to admit that it's not that bad. Not his favorite, not something he'd wear much, but good to blend in.

It is also helping with the feeling of actually belonging there, right in front of the stage with who knows how many people pushing him to get closer. Vi steps on stage and strums her guitar, spotlights still off, and a deafening roar envelops him and it's dizzying, the idea that this might be his place. But the spotlights are suddenly on, and Vi's screaming, and Jayce is yelling with her to the beat of the drums instead of thinking about anything else.

He doesn't know the lyrics. He doesn't need to, they resonate with him anyway like the bass echoes through his body. Last week, he laughed like an idiot standing right by the speaker. Now, jumping and screaming and sweating like he's never done in his life, he realizes that he's crying and laughs anyway because who the fuck even does that at their best friend's punk concert.

"How was it?" shouts Vi into his ear after running off the stage, and Jayce has no idea. It's not as if he's ever been very into music before, he isn't sure he's into this music at all now or into the rush.

"It was fun," Jayce answers, and she beams and grabs him by the wrist to drag him backstage. Caitlyn is already there, laying on the floor. Viktor is nowhere to be seen.

"He'll come," Vi smirks at him, and Jayce is still too excited to even feel awkward so he pretends that he hasn't noticed.

Caitlyn sits up and waves at him and Jayce waves back. "His throat was sore, he went to get something for that. Told him to bring you some, too."

"Cool," Vi sits with Caitlyn and Jayce is starting to feel the buzz of his excitement wearing off. That's bad, because then he's going to start feeling anxious and it's going to suck.

The door opens and closes behind him and Jayce turns around and there Viktor is, holding two cups and not even looking at Jayce. Rude.

"Got you some tea. It was hard, pubs don't have tea," Vi snorts but takes the cup from him anyway. Jayce just stands there, quietly, until Viktor glances his way. "You look like Danny Zuko after a mosh pit."

Jayce frowns. "Thank you?"

"That was a compliment, I think," Caitlyn says, standing up to pat Jayce's arm. "Viktor doesn't know how to say nice things in any other way."

"It was a fact."

Jayce feels slightly lost and a little bit offended but it's not as if he picked any of the things he's wearing so it doesn't matter. Much.

"At least I don't look like I'm heading for yacht club anymore, that's progress." he says, and Viktor huffs before taking a sip of tea. Which is ridiculous, now that Jayce has a second to think about it. He's known Vi for almost his entire life and she's always been defiant. She does her own hair, yells at every figure of authority she encounters, and dresses like Jayce would expect a punk to do. Viktor he hasn't known for as long but he did meet him when at college and he kind of yelled at a professor once but that was about it. Sweaters and jeans are not what he'd call appropriate punk attire. Or old fashioned thick rimmed glasses. Or anything about him, besides the way he's looking at Jayce right now, eyes intense and fierce, as if he wants to pick a fight.

"Anyway, we gotta bail," Vi punches his arm and Jayce snaps out of his reverie and blinks at Viktor. He keeps scowling at Jayce until Caitlyn grabs his arm and forces him to leave his cup on the floor and help her carry the drums to the back of the room. Jayce jumps when Vi snorts by his side. "You staring at my girlfriend like that? Gotta warn you, she's as gay as they come."

"Good to know we have something in common. Which you already knew, by the way, so what are you even talking about."

"Is it Viktor, then? You into him?"

Jayce hushes her. "Shut up. I'm just looking, what's up with you? I haven't seen him since he dropped out."

"You shut up. I don't know, Jaycer, you are the kind to do stupid shit like that."

"We can hear you," Viktor says, from the other side of the room, and Caitlyn almost drops a drum laughing. "You aren't even whispering."

Vi flips Viktor off and Jayce laughs to mask his mortification as he does the same.

-x-

Life is a dull thing full of boring stuff. This is a reality with which Jayce made his peace years ago. What he wasn't expecting was exactly how nonsensical it all could get once he didn't have much to do, besides thinking aimlessly about his thesis with no clear schedule. He has a vague idea of when he has to have things ready, but it all feels too far away for him to focus.

There is also the fact that now that he has been to a couple of concerts he feels changed, and stupid for feeling changed. It's not as if he's a different person, or that he now all of a sudden pledges alliance to the Sex Pistols and wants to destroy the establishment. Jayce kind of did want to destroy the establishment even before he knew what the establishment was, and punk still sounds like awful noise to him.

It's the feeling of  liberation that confuses him. Never has he believed himself to be someone constraint to or by anything. Sure, college sucked and he dealt with that but it was mostly something that he wanted to do. He isn't doing anything he doesn't want to. Yet, during the concerts, he felt like maybe there were others options. Maybe it was okay to be tired, angry, frustrated. Maybe it wasn't him who sucked at being polite and nice and civil, maybe it was everybody else not getting him what made things hard.

Maybe it was fine to be himself, completely, just because he wanted to.

How could things be the same ever again when he knows that there's been moments in his life in which he's known how it feels to be Jayce, as he has wanted to be forever, and for that to be okay?

There's a knock on the door and he almost falls off his chair, balancing on its hind legs. Right, he's got a life and one friend and it would be a good idea to go back to that and stop with the introspection. Thinking too much about himself and his own way of living and doing things has never brought him any good, after all. And it's way too early for that, he needs to at least have dinner before he starts a journey of self discovery.

Jayce stands and drags his feet towards the door. Vi texted earlier asking when she could get her boots back, and Jayce doesn't expect anybody else to be there. If he had known that Viktor would be standing at his door, looking at him with distaste, he would have had combed his hair. Probably. Or wore something nicer than his pajamas, but done is done and there Viktor is, looking exhausted and hostile, and Jayce steps aside to let him in.

"Where's Vi?"

"With Caitlyn, somewhere," Viktor stomps into the room. Jayce closes the door and wonders how someone who looks so tired can walk with so much purpose. "You got her boots?"

"Yeah. They are by the wardrobe, you can get them yourself," he leaves Viktor to it, doesn't expect him to need him to do anything much, and judging by their recent interactions Viktor won't be happy to hear him talk at all.

So he tries to get something done, read a couple of pages of a book he has on his table, even if he doesn't bother with sitting. It's nice, silent, Viktor is taking a bit too long but whatever, he doesn't care.

It doesn't last.

"You aren't going to ask again?"

Jayce leaves the book on the desk and frowns at Viktor.

"Ask about what," Viktor is standing by his wardrobe with Vi's boots in his hands, frowning too. At Jayce. For whatever reason.

"Why I dropped out."

"Why did you drop out?" he asks, and Viktor's frown deepens as he grunts. "That's why. Listen, I'm bad at people. Can you just let me get this one thing right?"

"Why do you even care?"

Jayce feels like being an asshole and asking what he's talking about, but he knows and Viktor has gone from open hostility to curiosity and exhaustion lightning fast. It's odd, the contrast between the man he knew at college and the one standing in his room. He knows that they are the same, but Viktor now seems less tense. Which, for him, apparently implies still being tense just not quite as much.

"You want me to be honest?" Viktor huffs and okay. Fine. It's a legit question but whatever. "Out of everyone in that classroom, you were the only one on my level. If anyone could've made it through the degree without much trouble, it'd be you. If I remember correctly, your grades weren't half bad. I don't get why you decided to leave it all behind."

Viktor stares at him in silence for long enough that Jayce thinks that he isn't going to answer. So much for honesty. But then he sighs, holding the boots with one hand and dragging his other one through his hair. It's already a mess, and Jayce wants to stop him from doing that. He had that hand on Vi's filthy boots, it shouldn't get anywhere near his hair. Too late.

"You're as arrogant as I remembered, it's kind of comforting. Annoying, too, but what's new with you," Jayce could do without being insulted. Viktor doesn't ask before sitting on his bed, leaving Vi's boots on the floor. It's something that he didn't expect to see in his life, Viktor sitting in his room as if he belongs there with his ugly black sweater and his stupid black jeans. They talked, a bit, when they were classmates. Jayce thought of Viktor as a friend exactly once, the week before he dropped out, during a conversation on the ethics of taking away free will in an end justifies the means situation. And then he never heard about him again until the concert. "You want me to be honest?"

He sounds so serious that Jayce wants to punch him in the nose.

"Sure," he says, instead, and sits on his desk facing Viktor. "Or lie, I wouldn't know."

Viktor gives him the finger. Fair.

"I loved...I love research. It was my life, and I did it seriously. As much as a student can, anyway. But it got too overwhelming for me to handle, and I dropped out."

Jayce knows Viktor enough to see that he isn't lying, but he thinks that he isn't telling him the whole truth either. If he were a kinder man, he'd see that it's not his place to pry. He isn't, though.

"Bullshit. That can't be all there was to it. I mean, I get that it can be overwhelming but it must have been something else."

Viktor huffs. "Sorry I didn't drop out for whatever reason you think I had? I didn't expect you to get it, you had most professors enamored somehow."

The first thought that crosses Jayce's mind is who the fuck even says enamored anymore. The second is that Viktor is being unfair.

"Excuse me? I might be more intelligent than most, we both know that, but I worked hard to get that degree."

That seems to be the last straw. Viktor grabs the boots and stands up, holding Jayce's gaze as he crosses the room towards him. Jayce stays where he is, refusing to give in. Viktor  looks ready to throw the shoes at his head, everything about him oozing with aggression. That's new. Back in college he was less prone to showing how he felt. It isn't a bad look on him, anger. Fits the aesthetic.

"You fucking self-absorbed piece of shit," Viktor spits, and Jayce isn't angry, not yet, but Viktor is getting him there. "You think I didn't work my ass off until I couldn't handle it anymore? And what is it to you, anyway?"

Jayce bristles. "You asked, didn't you? I'm only answering. I wasn't going to bring it up, Vi says that it's rude or some bullshit like that."

"I wanted to get it out of the way. If we are going to be around each other because of Vi, we might as well behave. But nothing works with you."

"And you expect me to believe that one of the most brilliant minds in our fucking class left because he was, what, tired?"

Viktor huffs, exasperated, and Jayce wants to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. Scream at him to just tell Jayce what he wants him to do because it'd be easier for everyone involved. It's not the first time he fucks up, it won't be the last, it'd save them time and effort.

"Yes! Why would I leave if not for that? What do you want from me? A dramatic story about betrayal? It doesn't exist, Jayce."

This is absurd and Jayce is tired of arguing. All this fighting spirit that Viktor has acquired over the years is fun to stare at from the sidelines and maybe experience for a bit, but it gets overwhelming fast. He's always been intense, yet Jayce has only known his intensity over philosophical discussions, never as raw as this. Kind of thrilling, if he sets aside just how done he is with all the fighting.

So he tries to change the subject, slightly, hoping that it isn't something rude to talk about too.

"You stopped researching altogether, then? No more of that, only the punk life for you now?"

Viktor laughs, small and gruff, and it's familiar enough to calm Jayce down a little.

"No. I don't think I can do that. It's just...academia is not my thing, okay? You know how it works."

Jayce nods. "Yeah. I get it. It's just...I was...disappointed. Not in you. Well, a little bit in you because I kind of expected big things from you," Viktor kicks his shin, not hard enough to hurt. "It got more boring after you left."

That's...raw, honest and open, and Jayce regrets saying it the second it's out of his mouth. Viktor seems to appreciate it, though, judging by the way he smiles. Small, barely there, hesitant. Jayce smiles back, shrugging. It's as awkward as it gets, but Viktor steps back and relaxes his stance, no longer looking about to punch Jayce in the teeth.

"Still not your place to put any kind of expectations on me," Viktor says, and it shatters the moment and leaves Jayce wanting to punch him in the teeth instead. "I'm leaving before you start doing it again. No concert this Sunday but we'll be at Vi's. Guess she'll tell you when if you ask."

Viktor bolts and leaves before Jayce can see him off. Jayce stares at the door until his phone goes off, and once he checks he sees that it's been ten minutes of him lost in thought unsure of how to feel or react.

Vi: viktor says taht he todl u that we gonna meet this sunday

Vi: be here at noon

Vi: D O N T wear loafers

Jayce blinks at his phone. Is everything going to be so confusing now that he's getting even more tangled in Vi's mess? Before, when it was just them and he kind of knew that she had a band and a girlfriend and other friends that didn't mix with him, there was peace. Now that he's right in the middle of everything, things have the potential to get messy fast.

He types that he'll go and his thumb hovers over the send key.

Is it worth it?

He remembers Viktor's tentative, hesitant, smile. Vi's happy shouting in his ear after the concert. Caitlyn's laughter.

Jayce hits send with a sigh.

-x-

Vi: texted him already

Vi: tell me y u coudlnt do it urself again

Viktor: complicated

Vi: complicated

Vi: ?

Viktor: too long to explain

Vi: ha

Vi: when hasj that worked viktorino

Vi: neer

Vi: fuck never

Viktor pockets his phone and refuses to look at it until he reaches Vi's apartment with her boots. He's pretty sure that she made him get them on purpose, her date with Caitlyn be damned. It's probably fake, anyway. She is home right now, after all, and her doing this can only mean that she has a plan. Viktor dreads to know.

He knocks on the door and Vi opens with a smile so wide Viktor has the impulse to turn on his heel and leave. It's a wicked thing, it spells trouble. A bad omen. However, he's there and he's got her boots so he has to stay. Tragic.

"Viktor, get your ass in here. We gotta talk about your stupid crush on Jayce."

Viktor is aware that showing just how affronted he is by that assumption as Vi drags him inside by the arm isn't going to deter her, so he doesn't bother protesting. This was her plan, then. It all makes sense, now. Fuck.

"Vi," he starts, once they've reached her room, and Vi hushes him and pushes him to sit on her bed. Viktor sits, drops Vi's boots on the floor, and waits. Fighting her has never been productive.

"So how did it go? Did you work things out?"

"In a way, yes," Viktor is hesitant to say that they did, though. It could make Vi try harder to do whatever it is she's trying to do, and he also isn't sure of just how much they tolerate each other. It's hard to say. "He's insufferable, anyway, so don't get your hopes up."

"He's changed since you left college," Vi sits on the floor in front of him and Viktor shrugs.

"Doesn't mean he's less of an arrogant asshole after three years."

"Nah. Still, it has its charm, sometimes."

Right.

"It does not. And I do not have a crush on him." Vi doesn't seem fazed by that at all. It's annoying.

"You almost choked on your own spit when I told you that he was coming backstage."

"I was surprised. I hadn't seen him in years," he tries to answer in a level, reasonable, tone. It's not a very good try. "We barely even talked at college."

"Right. I mean, you don't have to tell me shit if you don't wanna but I know you and I know him. Crush or not, you would've spent weeks dancing around the issue of you dropping out without my helping hand. You're welcome, by the way."

Why must all his friends be infuriating. "Thanks. I almost punched him, it was fun."

Vi does punch him, in the shin.

"He isn't that bad. You know that. He's a tool and he listens to Michael Bublé and cries to Gloria Gaynor but not even I am perfect."

"Vi, he thinks that he can tell me that he was disappointed in me when I dropped out. He thinks that it's an okay thing to say. The right thing to do. That's how he works, because since college Jayce has been the kind of person that doesn't understand how humans work."

She smiles. It's terrifying.

Viktor would also like the condescending edge of it to go away.

"So are you."

-x-

It's the third month of his second year of college and Jayce is seriously considering dropping out.

He's unhappy, stressed out, hasn't slept in weeks, and has been sharing his brain with a headache for what feels like decades. Nothing about what he's doing motivates him anymore. No matter how much he likes the subjects, they're a chore that he'd rather avoid. Professors are paternalistic and lenient towards him and, sometimes, they appear to expect way too much from him. He hates that they would ask less of him than of others, as if he can't do what the others can, but he's also terrified of letting them down, and anxious at the prospect of letting even himself down.

The way he doubts himself, when he's never been one to do so, is taxing. His emotions are out of control and most days anyone who tries to engage him in conversation ends up yelling at him or just leaving and never trying again.

There have only been two exceptions: Vi, who's his best friend and doesn't count, and Viktor, one of his classmates. Who he's not sure why keeps trying to talk to him every once in a while when he has said more than once that Jayce is an obnoxious idiot. His reasoning aside, Jayce is in no mood to be told just how stupid he is for whatever position he tries to defend after two hours listening to the worst professor he's ever had droning about ethics.

Poorly.

Viktor doesn't seem to take the hint when Jayce hangs his bag over his shoulder and marches towards the classroom's door.

"Sawyer," he says, and Jayce chooses to pretend that he didn't hear him and doesn't stop walking. "Jayce. I know you can hear me, are you five?"

Jayce stops, takes a deep breath, and turns around. Viktor is standing a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest. If he weren't so pissed off he'd feel sympathetic at how tired he looks, too.

"No, I am not. What I am is very tired. You were here with me while Pididly missed every point ever made on free will. I'm sure you had loads of fun, too. Now, If you'll excuse me, I'd like to get to my room and write that pointless essay he wants us to hand in tomorrow. Or drop dead, whichever comes first."

Viktor scoffs and Jayce could swear that he's kind of smiling. Hard to tell. He's very pointy, lots of angles, and the room isn't well lit.

 "As if it's going to take you more than ten minutes, cut the drama," Jayce could tell him that it was probably going to take him hours because he's the kind to get obsessed with trying to write something good and do it perfectly, but what would be the point of that. "I just wanted to talk to someone, about something Pididly said. And you're the only one I know that would listen."

Jayce doesn't know if he should feel flattered. So far, his conversations with Viktor have been interesting, if slightly frustrating. Viktor, as much as it pains him to admit, is almost as brilliant as he is and his views and positions are just close enough to his that when they clash over something it's big, and they're both passionate and well-informed when it comes to discussing those things. What he does know is that he isn't in the mood to get in a philosophical debate, not today and not on free will of all things.

His curiosity be damned.

Damned to hell, because Jayce finds himself sighing and dropping his bag on the floor despite his reluctance.

"Okay, fine. What do you want to talk about."

Viktor steps closer and Jayce thinks that he should loosen up, a bit. He holds himself so tightly, even the way he walks feels nervous and anxious and contained.  It's as if he wants to take as little space as possible. Which serves Jayce just fine, he usually wants his presence to be larger than life, but still.

"Why does Pididly work on the assumption that free will exists at all? I mean, being that he is, as he likes to remind us, the leading expert in Artificial Intelligence it doesn't make much sense."

That's fun. Not that they're gonna talk about Pididly, Jayce is going to try to steer them clear of that, but he sees potential in that conversation.

"That's the wrong question. Who the fuck cares about what Pididly thinks. What we should be asking ourselves is if the concept has any validity left, and what it says."

"What about taking the parts and trying to work with them instead of assuming that free will, as an entity, is to be taken as guaranteed regarding human experience?"

Viktor sits on a desk opposite Jayce, and for all the tiredness that he exudes he looks like something's being lifted off his shoulders. Jayce looks for his own feeling of exhaustion and finds it alive and well but muted enough to smile.

"Freedom and will? Good luck trying to find a concept of freedom that you like. And that's even before we get into will. For all the discussion that there's been regarding free will, the practical thing to do is to take it as something that is there, no matter how in doubt, and work with it. "

"Right. And we haven't even mentioned the self and the other yet, which is an entirely different mess," Jayce's heart skips a beat at Viktor's words and he blames his own anxiety and longing for a conversation that doesn't grate on his nerves for that. "What about a situation in which free will, taking the concept as valid, has to be taken away?"

"I'm guessing that it would depend on the situation, but also on how you explain people who don't know what free will implies, and how it could not be an inherent human quality, that you're taking it away for whatever it is you want to do."

"A situation in which free will is jeopardized to begin with," Viktor says, slowly, and Jayce finds himself leaning in closer to hear him better. "And in which that puts other lives at risk, that could only be saved by stripping it away and including external control."

Jayce thinks that he's going down a dangerous path, theoretically or not. Jayce also thinks that they could spend hours talking about that hypothetical situation if they try.

They do.

Once Viktor takes a look at his phone and curses, they've been talking for three hours and Jayce would've stayed for three more. They've barely scratched the surface, at one point yelling at each other about morality, meta-ethics, the fear of losing control, fear itself, and the public implications of such an action.

Viktor is gathering his stuff from his desk and Jayce stares at him, drawn out but satisfied, and his head still hurts and he still feels like he wants to pass out for a week but he's stopped considering dropping out.

If only for moments like this one, walking out of class with someone he can talk to about the complexities of free will for hours, he will stay.

He smiles at Viktor, Viktor smiles back. It's a weary, thin, thing. Jayce bumps his shoulder with his, in a rare display of his good mood that almost makes him run to his room in embarrassment but Viktor huffs and shoves at his arm. It's good, it's nice, it's fun.

It's the last time he sees Viktor.

-x-

Caitlyn is the one who opens Vi's door on Sunday, looking Jayce up and down. All Jayce knows about her is that she's British and that she's into Vi for some reason, and he's stunned into silence until she waves.

"Hello."

Caitlyn steps aside, leading the way inside. "Jayce. Vi and Viktor are screaming at each other about the Bad Brains. Would you like to come in?"

He follows her towards Vi's room, and sure enough he can hear Viktor and Vi yelling from the corridor. Caitlyn grabs his arm, startling him, and drags him to Vi's tiny living room.

"I'm tired of their bloody screaming matches. I know that they aren't...actually fighting, but it stresses me out. They'll stop, eventually."

Caitlyn sits on Vi's sofa and Jayce hesitates before she looks at him with an eyebrow raised and pats the cushion to her left. Fine. She doesn't bite, he hopes. The silence, though, punctuated by Vi and Viktor yelling in the distance is too tense for his liking. What can they even talk about? What do they have in common? Vi?

"How did you meet?"

"Me and Vi?" he nods, and Caitlyn laughs. "Well it's not...glamorous or anything. Not even that romantic. You and me, we are the same breed."

Jayce is unsure whether or not to feel offended. "How so?"

"I come from a rich family. Had never stepped out of London, lived a pretty dull and boring life. Then I come here on vacation, brave a pub, and meet the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. The only punks I'd known where on Picadilly and took pictures with tourists, you know? And there Vi was, talking about everything that I found absurd and stupid."

"She does that a lot."

Caitlyn snorts. "She does, yes. But picture me, bored out of my mind and unsatisfied with a life that felt scripted, meeting a girl with pink hair that spoke about liberation as if it were possible. As if she believed in it. Once I felt what it was like, going back to London was unbearable. I also fell in love with her, as you know, and decided to take a chance for once. It's worked out nicely, if I do say so myself."

She smirks, and Jayce is going to ask her why. How. Where did she get the courage to leave it all behind. Doesn't she regret it, sometimes? Wouldn't she want to go back to what she knew? To the safety of a life that was laid down for her beforehand? But Vi comes barreling into the room then, throwing herself at Caitlyn, with Viktor following her dragging his feet.

"Hey, Jaycer! Welcome to my humble abode. Sorry I sent Cait to the door, was busy kicking nerd ass."

"Don't let her trick you, she has no idea what she's talking about," Viktor says, as he sits by Jayce, and Vi sticks her tongue out. Jayce knows himself and had anticipated that being in a room with three more people, one of which being very loud, would be overwhelming. Just not how much. "Anyway. These gatherings are usually an excuse for Vi to make out with Caitlyn while I write lyrics, you can come with me if you want to."

If Viktor has sensed his discomfort somehow and acted on it or is being serious, he doesn't want to discover by staying there with Vi and Caitlyn so he stands when he does and follows him back into Vi's room, taking a deep breath against the closed door.

Kind of funny, being an overbearing self-assured asshole that gets antsy when with more than two people at once in the same couch.

"You okay?" Viktor asks, and Jayce tries to laugh but doesn't quite get there.

"Not used to crowds."

He expects a dry remark. Something like three people not being a crowd. Viktor just nods and sits on Vi's bed.

"I kind of lied, anyway. We usually rehearse until Vi's neighbors call the cops on us and we have to run. What I said happens sometimes, though," Jayce cannot picture Caitlyn and Viktor running away from cops, not with how Caitlyn talks and with how Viktor looks, but it's fun to try. "You just looked uncomfortable, I guess. Sorry for interfering, in any case."

"No, it's fine. Thanks. I can come back if I want to, it's not a big deal."

Once he gets his people person persona back, and stops screwing up his own social life. Would be nice if that happens soon.

"I would advise against that, they are probably making out now that they're alone."

Jayce laughs, and is surprised at himself when it doesn't come out half as awkward as he expected. Viktor isn't even smiling, just sitting there with his stupid messy hair and his straight nose and his awful fashion choices. Jayce sits with him on Vi's bed, willing himself to stop thinking that it's a weird thing to do. That they weren't even good friends at college, that the longest conversation they've had recently has been half a fight, that it's odd to sit on a bed with someone you haven't seen in three years. But at least, he reasons, it's a chance to try and find out what Viktor's been up to since he left.

"So...how's life been."

Viktor huffs, and Jayce glances his way. "Seriously? Just going straight for it?"

"Why not."

"It's been three years, what makes you think I'm going to tell you anything."

Jayce shrugs. "I don't know. You could choose not to, but can you really resist this face."

Vi would pester him about flirting for years. Which he isn't doing, thank you very much. He's trying to...do something. Make a friend. Remake a friend? Talk to Viktor, about anything, just so they don't have to sit on Vi's bed in tense silence until they decide on something to do. That's reasonable.

"Well I can, and I'm going to. All you need to know is that I met Vi and started writing songs," Viktor catches him staring and frowns, but it doesn't feel like he wants to pick a fight. More like he's puzzled and trying to figure Jayce out, and it's making Jayce antsy. "It's been good. I had a harsh time after dropping out, but things are looking better now."

There that fierceness is again, as if he has to show Jayce in any way he can that what he thinks and has to say regarding his choices doesn't matter. Jayce looks at him, at the way his jaw is set and his eyes are narrowed, and he wouldn't say that Viktor is handsome. Not really. Yet he is, kind of, when he's looking at Jayce with the intensity of someone ready to refute every single point he makes.

 Jayce gathers himself and looks away before he can follow that train of thought any further.

"I was thinking of dropping out the last time we talked before you did," he says, instead of any other reasonable thing that doesn't make him vulnerable, because he's been left raw and open and he hasn't talked about it with anyone, not even Vi. "Considering it."

"You don't have to tell me shit, you know? It's not as if I'm going to trade secrets with you," Viktor's voice is harsh. Jayce doesn't resent him. Much. "We both were in a bad place, took different paths. Looks to me like we're both sitting on the same bed right now so there's that."

Jayce, against his better judgment, turns to look at Viktor again. He's already staring at him, dead serious, and wanting to kiss him should be more of a shock. They don't even know each other that well, it's not like they've talked much. Yet Jayce can't deny it.

"I don't want to trade, just want to talk. You say I'm an obnoxious asshole but have you ever heard yourself?"

"What do you want to talk about? How you made the right choice and I didn't?"

Kiss him or punch him, whichever happens first if he doesn't drop the subject.

"No, you fucking idiot. I want to talk about me almost dropping out and how I didn't because we had a talk on free will that made me stay."

All this being sincere and emotional around Viktor is getting out of control.

Viktor looks at him, piercing and searching, and drags his hands through his own hair with a long suffering sigh. Jayce's fingers twitch.

"You are kidding."

"No."

Then Viktor grabs his face with both hands and Jayce's stomach drops, and Vi's voice comes booming from the corridor.

"Stop sucking face, Vi and Caitlyn coming through!"

And the door opens with a bang and his face feels colder than it has ever been, and Viktor's staring resolutely ahead and not at him.

"So there's some tension here," Vi says, and Jayce starts laughing and can't stop. Someone's patting his back but he doesn't care who. By the time he's recovered, only Vi's left in the room with him. "Were you really snogging, dude?"

"No, we weren't. No. I think we were getting there, though, so thanks for that," Vi's eyes go so wide that Jayce is on the brink of having another laughing fit.

"You are shitting me. Fuck. Sorry. Caitlyn and Viktor are in the living room, I can tell him to come back. Respect the sanctity of my bed. Please."

Jayce snorts. This isn't happening. He isn't talking to Vi about how he thinks that they almost maybe kissed. For all he knows Viktor could've been trying to headbutt him.

"No, it's fine. I'm not sure if that was going to happen, really," it isn't every day that he feels lightheaded enough to laugh himself stupid, Vi's his best friend, he's already being awfully honest. To hell with it all. "I wanted it to. No idea about him."

"Shit. I mean. I knew that you kinda had the hots for him because he's your type and you talked about him when you were at college and don't even fight me on this, Jaycerino, but I didn't know it would happen so fast. What are you gonna do now? Talk to him?"

He shrugs. There's not much that he can say. He'd fight her on Viktor being his type, but there's no use in trying to contradict Vi in anything she says.

"No idea. Go home, I guess. Think it through."

"Okay. Fine. But don't think about it too much or you'll scare yourself out of talking to him."

"I won't"

He goes home, relieved that Viktor isn't behaving any differently when he and Caitlyn see him off at the door, and he spends the entire week thinking about it until he ends up scaring himself out of doing anything at all.

-x-

Viktor stays after Caitlyn leaves. He sits with Vi on the floor, shoes off, and waits for her to start harping on it as she usually does.

When the clock reaches two in the morning and she's still rambling on about how good Al Schvitz is on the drums, Viktor can't stop bouncing his leg and needs to let it out before his own feelings make him explode.

Emotions are an awful thing to have, a curse.

"Vi, I have a problem."

She stops talking, blinks at him, and smiles. "I'm listening."

"Jayce is my problem."

"We have many things in common, you and I. Pity we are both so tragically gay," Vi pats his foot. "So what's your problem, exactly?"

"I...don't laugh at me, I'll punch you," he warns, and Vi pats him again. "I had a crush on him when we were at college. We didn't talk much but he was handsome, he was smart, he could hold himself in a conversation. He was interesting."

Vi hums. "Yeah. He said some stuff about you too, around that time. I'm noticing that you're talking in the past tense here? We dealing with a Jayce impersonator now?"

"Shut up. My...feelings," Vi snorts. Viktor tries to ignore her. "Died with time. Or so I thought. Did you know that I dropped out because of him?"

"No, but I wouldn't be surprised. He's annoying."

"It wasn't because of that. We talked about free will, it made me think about freedom, I started theorizing and decided to follow my own views on the matter and refuse to do anything I didn't want to do. It was...pretty dramatic."

"Oh, I remember how you were back then. That's when we met, at the pub. Loved how angry you were, got extra points for yelling at a cop."

"Focus. You mentioned him, sometimes, but I figured that he wasn't the kind to be interested in what we do. But he was. And today we talked, not about the things we used to but still."

"He's still handsome, and smart, and can hold himself in a conversation?"

Viktor is about to open up and drop his heart on Vi's floor. She's going to have to deal with that mess. She's asking for it.

"It's worse than that, he cares. About...me, and other things I guess. I hate it."

"But not him."

"Not him."

"Cool."

"In which way is me having a crush on Jayce again cool, enlighten me."

Vi sighs, as if she's very tired. It is late, but he knows that she stays up later than that.

"You are an idiot and are going to have to figure it out by yourself. Now go to sleep before I kick your ass out of my house."

-x-

Vi: hes coming backstage today too

Vi: prlly overthought everythign and about to fuck up

Caitlyn: have a little faith love

Vi: impossible

Vi: i know him i know how he is hes gonna fuck up i dont wanna watch

Vi: and viktors liske so into that idiot

Vi: haaateeweww theeememeemmee

Caitlyn: should we leave them to it, then?

Vi: yyyyeeeaaah

Vi: wanna go midnight bowlin?

-x-

The backstage is empty when Jayce gets there, still reeling and breathless, until the door opens with a bang and Viktor stomps in and stops dead once he spots Jayce there.

"You know where Vi and Caitlyn are?" Viktor asks, and Jayce shrugs. "At least they cleaned up before they left."

He stares as Viktor sits on the floor and starts fiddling with his bass as if Jayce isn't even there. As if Jayce isn't questioning everything he knows about him, and everything he's ever thought true about himself and how he wants to live his life, because he's attended three of his concerts and has had the revelation that he finds Viktor hot when he plays.

Up on the stage, Viktor isn't like the person he knew at college. He's much more like the one he's starting to know now; defiant, looking for an excuse to fight whoever gets in his way, intense. Free. Jayce has a feeling that, back at college, Viktor was still defiant and intense and a fighter, just less prone to showing it. It's thrilling, being able to see him be so unashamedly when he's out there.

Losing the possibility of experiencing this just because he wants to maybe make out with him? Not a good plan. So he'll swallow his feelings down and go on with his life, get a PhD, keep on being smarter and prettier than average, and stop worrying about Viktor.

Who's staring at him from the floor, bass held between his legs, frowning.

"What's up with you?" Viktor asks, leaving the bass propped against the wall.

He decides to cop out and answer a question with another question just to deflect.

"Does it always feel like this?"

"What? Going to a concert?" Jayce nods and Viktor smiles and stands up, stepping closer. "Not always, but most times."

"How is it for you, up there?"

Viktor won't stop looking at him, and Jayce won't stop looking at Viktor. It's wreaking havoc on his nerves.

"There's nobody here now, want to try going out there?"

He blames nodding on how dazed and exhilarated he still is as Viktor grabs his arm and drags him out of the room and onto the stage. The spotlights are off and they're the only one's there, yet Jayce can feel his heart beating in his throat. Up on the stage, looking down on the empty pub floor, it's as if he could do anything. Be whoever he wanted to be. It's like being down there looking up at Vi as she sings only tenfold.

Jayce has never learned to play an instrument or sing. All he knows about music has been taught to him by Vi. His taste is, according to her, boring and bland. Yet, in that moment, he feels like he could be a part of what they have. Leave everything behind. He gets what Caitlyn said, now, how they're the same breed.

"When we talked about free will," Viktor starts, and Jayce turns to look at him. He's looking ahead, Jayce catching only his profile. "Freedom became something that I wanted to pursue. Here, on this stage, is the only place where I feel free. And only when we are done, and I'm too tired to think of me as me."

Asking Viktor if he loses himself to his music would be a shameful over-simplification, so he doesn't. Jayce keeps looking at his profile, sharp angles softened under the weak lightning in the pub, until Viktor turns to him.

"So you think about the philosophy of self after you're done singing about fucking the system?"

"Not as such, but close. It doesn't get freer than not being at all."

Jayce's resolve regarding not acting on his feelings at all crumbles under Viktor's gaze, it's shattered by the way he looks standing on the stage like he owns it even if he doesn't dress much like a punk. It dies at the hands of Viktor's half smile, eyes set on Jayce, barely a foot apart. Just casually existing in his same space, breathing his same air. The gall.

"Hypothetically speaking," Jayce starts, trying for casual but probably failing. "If I were to kiss you right now, would you throw me off the stage?"

Viktor steps closer. "Try me."

Jayce grabs him by the neck of his stupid sweater and kisses him with no finesse. Viktor kisses back, fierce and intense and everything Jayce expected him to be. A fighter, even when he's cradling Jayce's face in his hands. Jayce lets go of his sweater and buries his fingers in Viktor's hair, sighing into the kiss.  Viktor ducks his head, takes a breath, and bites at Jayce's jaw before taking a step back. Jayce's hands fall on his shoulders.

"You're still on the stage," Viktor says, voice deep and low, and a shiver runs up Jayce's spine.

"Shocking."

"I can still push you off if that's what you are into."

Jayce kisses Viktor before he can keep on talking because it's tragic, how much of an idiot he is and how into him Jayce is anyway.

-x-

A month after they, according to Vi, got over themselves Viktor's playing his bass laying on Jayce's bed and Jayce is writing down a timeline for his thesis.

Jayce looks up from his laptop at Viktor, humming along to what he's playing, and as he looks at the tense line of his shoulder and the mess that his hair is he's acutely aware of how noisy the music that Viktor likes is.

Viktor glances his way.

Jayce shuts his laptop down, crosses the room and kisses him. Viktor laughs into it and pushes him away with a hand on his chest.

"Tired?" Viktor asks, and Jayce shakes his head. Viktor shrugs and keeps on playing.

It's terrible.

Jayce feels alive.