#Jayce wakes up first but pretends to still be sleeping

[carrion-corvus]

Late night

[gingerpines]

teen!caitvi AU drabble based on this art by me!

warning: i am not a writer! and english isn’t my first language! i hope this still makes sense :) its a bit messy its not very well explained sometimes but i hope i got the point across! enjoy!

Ekko was sent by benzo to deliver things at jayce’s workshop and vi and claggor join because ekko’s quite young to go on his own anyways, vi is like, acting as the bodyguard and shes looking all tough and mysterious making sure ekko is okay constantly

they knock and stand at the door, vi staying behind ekko to look around and jayce is like come in! bc they have quite a lot of things and while vi stands back still cautious, she completely drops her tough demeanor when she sees young cait tinkering with some of jayce’s stuff, goggles on. Vi tries to be discreet but her eyes keep darting back at Cait while ekko and jayce conclude business, claggor catches vi but doesnt say anything, and cait comes towards them, taking the goggles off, a big smile on her face.

"Nice to meet you all!" she goes in her thick british accent and she offers a handshake to Vi who doesnt know what to do with that so she kinda blushes and stares at cait, cait going "I’m Caitlyn!" and, embarrassed and flustered, vi just frowns and doesnt say anything, sorta turning around and caitlyn takes that VERY personally and from that point on she’s got beef with her and Vi kinda regrets how stupid she acted but tries not to think about it too much.

now everytime ekko has business in piltover, vi INSISTS on joining, saying its for safety but really its in the hopes she’ll run into caitlyn again. one time at a fair, benzo has a booth to sell things in piltover and ekko runs it, naturally, vi and the other kids join, Jayce and Caitlyn visit the booth and when cait sees Vi she just turns her head away with a frown, still upset at their last interaction and refusing to look at her, and Vi decides to tease her and ask about what theyre doing here. Cait kinda ignores her at first but ends up yapping about jayce’s and her’s latest experiments and shes talking sooo much and vi listens to all of it and when cait realized shes been talking too much they both kinda laughs and then jayce says they have to go so they leave and they smile at each other

throughout the fair Cait tries to “accidentally” walk in front of ekko’s booth again, and when she does, Vi is gone and she asks Ekko where she went and ekko shrugs, cait keeps walking around until she sees Vi walk around and cait joins her and they just kinda tease each other and argue the whole day but in a cute way but they both try to pretend they dont like the other bc they have such different lives and vi keeps calling cait entitled but she doesnt even mean it. From then on, Vi starts sneaking out to meet Cait outside her gate, but she has no idea how to get her attention, so she kinda sits there in the rain for a while until one of the dog starts barking, waking, thankfully, only Caitlyn up who looks out her bedroom window and goes outside to see little wet puppy vi standing at the gate and trying to make up an excuse as to why shes here like jayce forgot a tool from ekko and it was just easier to get it to her house instead and they end up talking until so late even tho its freezing outside, the gate still separating them, like the wall that socially separates them.

they start meeting up almost every week, like clockwork, outside of Cait’s house to talk, and for Cait to yap about things she likes while Vi listens. one day, Cassandra catches them and forbids Cait to see Vi again. They both cry themselves to sleep and Vander notices Vi’s change in mood after that, and asks her about it. she tells him everything and apologizes for lying and sneaking out but vander isnt upset, he hugs her and tells her theyre going to figure it out.

Vander decides to go talk to Cassandra at the next Piltover-Zaun event, Vi standing shyly behind Vander’s leg, Caitlyn standing straight next to Cassandra, both girls so excited to see each other again even tho its weird and awkward with their parents talking in front of them, Cassandra listens to Vander who’s putting on The Charm™️ and she eventually sighs and allows them to see each other bc she sees Vi isnt a menace

that day they both walk around Piltover, often almost holding hands but theyre too shy so they don’t, but Vi wants to show Cait she likes her but she doesnt know how to because they shouldnt and also because she doesnt know how to show love in a way that Caitlyn would understand. they walk around and its comfortably quiet this time, even tho theyre used to yapping and yapping for hours but this time they just want each other’s presence. at one point they walk through a tiny crowd and theres a small group of Zaunites laughing at them, at the contrast between their clothes and demeanors and they hear one of the boys call Caitlyn and a not-so-nice words like stuck up or worse, Vi isn’t even sure but she immediately knocks him down in one punch and Cait has absolutely no idea what to do or say but she then grabs Vi’s hand and they run away, when theyre safe away from that crowd, Caitlyn gets SOOO mad in her little british accent and Vi just sits, knuckles bloody, listening to Cait lecture her.

Eventually, cait calms down and looks down at Vi’s hands and sighs, starting to unwrap her bandages to check her wound muttering “You are such an idiot, Violet.” and Vi just smiles as Cait cleans her wounds.

bonus:

cait begging her mom to let her bring vi to one of the shooting tournaments and Vi joins and they have so much fun and cait lets vi try out her rifle and shes so bad and they laugh and caitlyn teaches her and theyre having a moment but cait’s parents interrupt and theyre blushing and being silly teenagers with a crush and they dont know how to deal with it. cait is definitely the one to fall first even tho she represses it bc vi is from zaun and thats not how she was raised, but she becomes closer with vi and vi realizes wayyyyy too late that she has a massive crush and also that cait is not being slick about it in the slightest. she talks about it with vander at the last drop she sits at the counter with her head in her hands like ughhhhhh i hate having a crush its so stupid and vander laughs

thank u for reading :))

[coracaodeleao]

MelJayVik headcanons – Mel-centric because it’s the best way

(pt. 2)

They undo her clothes differently.

Jayce goes behind her, warm and steady. His hands find the zipper as his lips find her skin — soft kisses trailing from her neck down her back. He murmurs behind her ear, asking how her day went, voice low. The dress slips off slowly, like dusk giving way to night, and he’s there through it all — gentle, familiar, already half in love with the moment.

Viktor stays in front of her. Always. There’s something in the way he watches — not possessive, but present. One hand rests at her waist, grounding her, the other slides over her shoulder, coaxing the fabric downward with precision. She doesn’t move. She doesn’t need to. The eye contact does the rest. He undresses her like he’s solving something — carefully, attentively, never once looking away. And when the dress falls, he sees her not as something to unveil, but as something already understood.

Viktor has her mornings, Jayce has her nights. When Viktor wakes beside her, he traces the gold of her skin with patient fingers. The morning light softens everything — her features, his thoughts, the space between them. Once she stirs, he kisses her shoulder, just once, and that’s all it takes: either she turns to face him, or simply opens her eyes.

He guides her leg over his waist, both still lying down, and enters her slowly, reverently. He swallows her moans, gives his own in return — muffled into her mouth, lost in her breath.

But when he's hungry, when want overrides gentleness, he shifts. He lifts her leg higher, closer to his face, until she understands. And then she’s above him, seated, beautiful, the morning sun making her glow. He gazes up, tasting the afterglow he created. Viktor has always liked breakfast in bed, anyway.

But Jayce meets her before that. Before the sun, before stillness. He finds her in the gaps between meetings and sponsors — the fleeting minutes where tension hangs just out of reach. Their laughter echoes like relief in a world too loud, hands brushing like an accident they both wanted to happen.

And if she lets him, he serves her on a table, any table. He bends her over it, uses his fingers, his mouth, his cock — whatever she needs to let go. It has to be quick, but he’s good enough to make it matter.

He takes the crumbs she offers and turns them into memory.

Dinner, after all, is the last meal before sleep. And it should leave you full until the next one.

Jayce always tries to cook for her. Viktor convinces her to order from somewhere decent.

Jayce insists on doing it himself, half-naked in her kitchen, like it's a romantic comedy. He follows a recipe with too much confidence and too little precision. Mel lets him. She leans on the counter, pretending not to notice the mess, or the way he burns the garlic.

He talks the whole time — stories from work, old memories, compliments thrown between stirs. When he finally brings her the plate, he's proud, eyes shining, looking at her like her opinion is the only one that matters. She takes a bite. It’s average at best. She still smiles. He kisses the side of her mouth where the sauce touched. "It’s perfect,” she lies. “You’re perfect,” he replies.

Viktor likes to devour but does not like to make it. She resists, at first. Says she wants something simple, homemade. He tilts his head, studies her, and says: “Then let someone who knows what they're doing make it.”

They end up sharing a Zaunite stew, still warm in the metal container it came in. No ceremony. No silverware. He opens it for her and waits as she tastes it.

She hums in approval.

“I told you,” he says, stealing a bite.

They eat together in silence, legs touching under the table. She feeds him a piece with her fingers. He doesn’t thank her — just opens his mouth and takes it in, his eyes never leaving hers.

Her name is the same, yet they say it differently. Jayce says it like a plea, like a breath released just to take her in on the next inhale. Her name comes out soft, high, sometimes even shorter — a gasp more than a word. Like he’s calling her from afar, asking her to come closer. And she always does. Or maybe he does. He’s always the one who moves.

Viktor speaks it slower, each syllable enunciated, deliberate. Her name becomes punctuation — not the start, not the focus, but the anchor of the sentence. He says it when she’s drifting too far, when her thoughts spiral or her heels take her too close to danger. “Careful, Mel.” A word placed like a hand on her wrist, reminding her to look down before she falls.

In her absence, Jayce wears her in his heart. Viktor wears her on his sleeve.

Jayce's love is loud and visible. He talks about her to others, brings up her visions and opinions and validates them. When the lights glow and a white dress passes by, you might hear him say her name before he even turns around. She’s in his heart — and he lets the world know, because they should know.

But Viktor doesn’t bring her up, doesn’t speak of her — unless someone makes him. And then he asks why, and anyone who insisted instantly regrets it. Viktor isn’t afraid to hurt someone’s feelings, especially when it concerns his own. Because she’s on his sleeve, close to his hand. And if he must make a fist for others to understand, he will.

Jayce holds her like a celebration.Viktor holds her like a secret.

Jayce wraps her up in strong arms and lifts her like a toast to life. He holds her like he’s proud she exists, like she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him — and everyone should know. His touch is warm, reassuring, sometimes clumsy but never uncertain.

Viktor pulls her closer like she might vanish. His touch is careful, calculated, and constant — even when it seems distant. He holds her not to show, but to feel. He traces her spine like a formula he’s still learning. When he lets go, it's only because he must.

Jayce takes her fire. Viktor takes her silence Jayce thrives in her confidence, becomes bolder after each kiss, repeats her words like mantras in the council. He borrows her shine to light up his path, and she gives — because she wants to see him glow.

In Viktor's presence, she doesn’t need to perform. She gives him her silence, and he listens. He makes space for the part of her that doesn't speak, only is. And she lets him have it, because it’s the only place she breathes without pressure.

[mrclairdycat]

Jayvik Headcanons! ٩( ᐛ )( ᐖ )۶

(You can use these for your fics, art or whatever, I don't mind! Tell me or tag me if you do though 'cause I'd love to see it/read it.)

Jayce is naturally good with kids. Viktor is awkward with them, but for some reason the kids love him. They often want touch or try his cane or ask curious questions and their parents deem it as disrespectful, but he always assures them they can and gladly lets them. He also loves to say playful lies like "Actually don't tell anybody this but I've acquired the powers to teleport. I just have to act like a normal human being among the public." Or, better yet, he tells them he's actually an alien. HOWEVER... Viktor hates newborns. He hates when he's forced to cradle them in his arms. Too much slobber, shit and vomit. You can't even talk to them and know there's some kind of understanding between you and them. Jayce, on the other hand, could have a baby shart in his arms and still be like "awww!" He also loves to play with them theatrically.

Viktor is a HUGE Doctor Who fan. It's basically all he ever watches. Jayce is more of a Holiday Movies guy or series with Comedy, Romance or both, especially soap operas, but he was once forced to watched Doctor Who and now he's hooked too.

Jayce is the only one who finds Viktor's dry and dark humor, especially directed at himself, funny. He finds it so refreshing since posh people's humor is extremely boring. Plus, he understands that Viktor would prefer making light of his bad situation to cope and it's not his place to tell him what to joke and not joke about.

Although they mostly lock in and work hard all night in the lab, the sleep deprivation makes them find ANYTHING funny. Sometimes they end up in an endless loop of laughing fits because both of them are so sleep deprived they can't properly say words anymore.

Speaking of, they probably share all their deepest secrets on a whim but don't remember anything the next day, as if they were totally drunk or something.

Also, they cover each other up if they find one of them has fallen asleep. Often times, however, Viktor finds himself magically spawning in his bed. He never thought much about it, figuring he was so exhausted he probably doesn't remember going home, when in reality it was Jayce that carried him home to make sure his body wouldn't be in pain in the morning.

When Viktor is mad at Jayce he abuses that disabled card. Sometimes he publically humiliates him by pretending he's a bad person that doesn't help his disabled friend with anything. In reality, if he tried to pick something that fell for him, he would be met with the smack of his cane.

Speaking of, acts of service is Jayce's way of flirting. He's an extrovert, but he's not confident at all. He never says his feelings first, just acts especially nice towards someone with numerous gifts, praise and help. Viktor thought he was just being ableist.

Again, speaking of, Viktor is more of a words of affirmation guy. However, when they got together, they have scheduled days within the week where Viktor HAS to accept help and be spoiled. He knows its Jayce's love language by now, so, even if he finds it condescending, he's happy to let him have those days to let it all out.

Sometimes Jayce presents Viktor a complex equation because he loves seeing him explain how to solve it. He just loves listening to him yap.

Viktor has a secret passion for astronomy. Can name you every star. Jayce has a secret passion for birdwatching. Can name you every bird. He'd also love falconry. Tbh he adores animals in general.

Viktor despises Astrology. Jayce loves it. He likes to piss him off by saying "You're acting like your sign right now."

Jayce loves pop and reggaeton, meanwhile Viktor thinks classical music is superior to anything else. He especially listens to it because it is scientifically proven it helps with focus. He hates when he wakes up in the morning to him cleaning and blasting El Taxi or something.

Viktor also loves theatre musicals. His favorites are Ride the Cyclone, Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. He also loves plays like Hamlet or live orchestras.

Jayce is very good at cooking thanks to his mom's teachings. Plus he just really enjoys it. Viktor is the type who finds it a chore and eats only because he has to (he doesn't even do that most days). Jayce often brings extra food when he packs lunch so Viktor can have some too :) he also loves to cook for him.

Jayce is naturally good at dancing. Adores Just Dance and group dances (Viktor always wins Just Dance without even moving his legs). Viktor is naturally good at playing instruments. He likes to focus on what his hands can do so he can feel better about his bad leg.

Jayce loves head massages and scritches. He's a sucker for physical touch. Viktor likes to give him that while he's reading notes or a book.

Jayce is a dog person who has no problems with cats. Viktor is a cat person who kinda hates dogs since they drool all over the place and lick his face.

Viktor never cries, but when he does it's GUT wrenching because of all the bottled up emotions. Jayce, on the other hand, cries for absolutely anything, especially movies. He could see a child with their mom on a random stroll and shed tears saying "they're so happy :("

Ximena (Jayce's mom) adores Viktor. He always tells Jayce to invite him over whenever they can so he can spend less time alone and even encourages him to sleep over. She just can't bare the thought of someone's baby struggling on their own and not being taken care of.

Jayce mostly overthinks when he's trying to fall asleep. The silence is always broken by him spiraling saying things like "do you think I'm annoying?" simply for a stranger not responding after he complimented them or something. The thought of someone hating him drives him insane. He wants to be liked by everyone. People pleaser core.

[girlnext-do0r]

Letters to a Councilman

Erm..so..I maybe thought of a few ideas for Jayce.. and maybe this is the first chapter to a fanfiction.. and MAYBE Its 1:25am and I need to wake up at 6:20am for classes.. but this comes first.

Chapter One: A name that isn't yours

The council chamber was already half-empty by the time Jayce stood. Not that it mattered. Most of the seats had been filled with bodies, not attention. A vote had passed—unanimously, of course—and someone had already started talking about what came next. No silence between motions. No pause to breathe.

Jayce moved on instinct. Papers gathered, pen uncapped then recapped. Nods where necessary. A courteous “Councilor,” here and a distracted “Yes, I’ll look over that,” there. No one noticed the way his jaw clenched until it ached.

No one noticed the silence he didn’t fill.

When he stepped out of the chamber, the city was too loud. Carriages on the bridge clattered over stone, and a smoggy fog crept in from the far side of Zaun, curling under the gates like it was trying to sneak into places it wasn’t welcome.

Jayce didn’t go home.

He went to his office.

The door closed behind him with a soft click. The quiet inside was almost worse.

He dropped the thick folder onto his desk with a sigh that tasted like iron—like the metal that stained his gloves in the forge, back when his days were shaped by heat and hammer swings, not politics and polite betrayals.

The folder tipped. A few sheets slid out, the paper curling like it was trying to escape.

That was when he saw it.

An envelope. No seal. No stamp. Tucked into the documents like it belonged there, though it most definitely didn’t.

Jayce frowned.

He picked it up, turning it over in his hand. The paper was rough, thick. Handmade. Not standard council parchment. No name on the back. Just the front—his title, nothing else.

Councilman TalisWritten in clean, sharp strokes. Not elegant. Not messy. Controlled.

Jayce hesitated.

Then he opened it.

Councilman, I heard your speech this week. I say “heard,” but that’s generous. The words echoed off walls louder than they reached the streets. You say unity. We hear quiet. You say progress. We hear boots echoing through alleyways. You say peace, and we wonder what war you’re pretending never happened. You speak like you’ve never lost sleep over someone else's suffering. Like your hands have never touched the things you're building. But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you’re not like the rest of them. That’s what people say, isn’t it? That you care. That you mean it. This letter isn’t about believing them. It’s about seeing if you’ll read this and do something that matters. You don’t need to write back. I don’t expect you to. But you should know: people are watching. Listening. Waiting. —No One Important

The office felt colder now.

Jayce stared at the letter. Not just read it—stared. Like it might shift if he looked at it long enough. Change. Apologize.

He read it again. Slower. Then once more.

The words weren’t kind. They weren’t even particularly hopeful.

But they were… real.

More real than anything he'd heard around the council table in weeks.

Jayce sat down heavily in the chair behind his desk. He leaned back, letter still in hand, thumb brushing the edge of the page as if he could feel the intention in the paper itself.

The words dug in.

Not all at once. Not like a blade. More like a splinter—quiet, irritating, impossible to ignore once noticed.

You speak like your hands have never touched the things you’re building.

He looked down at his palms. Callouses gone, mostly. Replaced by ink stains. Impressions from fountain pens, not steel tools. Was that true? Had he really changed so much?

Jayce hated how much the letter made him think. Made him feel. And most of all—he hated that he didn’t know who wrote it.

Or maybe… maybe that was the point.

“No One Important.” A lie, if he’d ever heard one.

Someone had known where to leave it. Someone had known it would find him.

And they didn’t want credit.

That was rare. Suspicious, even. But also oddly—

Impressive.

He stood and crossed the office to the window. Below, the Hexgates shimmered in the distance—evidence of progress. Of purpose. But tonight, even they felt far away.

Jayce folded the letter with care, sliding it into his inner coat pocket.

He told himself it was just in case.

Just so he could reference it later. Or to report it. Maybe.

But really, he just… didn’t want to put it down.

The next day, the chamber was just as loud. Just as rehearsed.

And Jayce? He didn’t speak much.

He just kept hearing the same words on repeat:

But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you’re not like the rest of them.

And the worst part? He wanted to prove them right.

If this does well I'll do a pt 2

[viktorarcanedeservesbetter]

jayvik prompt: post canon, they comfort each other late at night in their little cottage as a loud thunderstorm rages outside.

Okay so this took a turn.

Kind of introspective?

Hope you enjoy!

---

The thing is: neither of them use to be afraid of loud noises.

At least once a day, in the beginning of their partnership, one of them would cause a mini explosion. Either screwing in something wrong or adding too much gunpowder to a prototype. Hell, multiple explosions a day when stabilizing the crystals.

Everything changed after the attack on the council.

Jayce didn't notice it until week four or five of his stay in the ravine, miles below what was left of Piltover and Zaun. He'd sleep, because he was exhausted, and then the nightmares would begin. He would awake, breathless, panting, hearing the boom of Jinx's rocket breaking through the glass and destroying everything.

Sometimes he thinks it was because he was too worried about Viktor to sleep properly enough to dream, back before Viktor woke up and left him in his regrets.

He wondered, he worried, all the way below-if Viktor dreamt and felt the same fears. If he could sleep at all and would wake to the sounds of his life almost ending, of enforcers pulling rubble off him, of Jayce ripping his shirt open and desperately trying to get him to breathe better, of breaking ribs until he felt the horrifying lack of support provided by his weak spine.

Now, he knows, from personal experience, Viktor feels the same.

The rain is fine. Long rainstorms, just the sound of water against their cabin roof. Calming.

The thunder and lightning?

Awful.

Viktor always accepted his touch before. That was something not new, something that tugged at Jayce's heart and wrapped it in warmth. Now, though, it's a lot more. Viktor seeks out his touch as if they are magnetic, as if they are glued. Well, they are two halves of the same whole, two sides of the same coin.

Now, Viktor seeks out his touch at every moment, convenient or non-convenient. Viktor watches him chop wood from the porch, he prefers to shower together, he to sit on Jayce's lap while they read. He loves every bit of it, soaks up every touch like a sponge. Its a comfort. Jayce doesn't know what he'd do without his touch, always there.

Like tonight.

Neither of them sleep when it storms like this, not without some sort of drug. Viktor is better, actually, about accepting a mix into his tea to help him sleep-Jayce prefers more natural methods, and he's more afraid to fall asleep first and Viktor not be there not when he wakes up, not because he left, but because he was never there.

It's a little fucked up.

Anyways, on stormy nights like this neither of them sleep because Jayce simply can't. He's too wound up for a calming tea to really work and he refuses to use up their supply of sleep aid because Viktor needs it more-despite what he claims-and Viktor refuses to fall asleep if Jayce won't.

What he doesn't want to admit is that he's gotten better at handling the sounds of the thunder and the shock of lightning. Viktor feels better if he is able to help-and Viktor is so good at helping-so Jayce pretends he needs the comfort as much as Viktor does.

He's not lying-it still bothers him, it always will-but it's not as bad as it was before.

Which leads them to now: Viktor, wrapped in his lap, curled around Jayce with a heavy blanket over them both. It's early winter, the rainstorms here are cold and get colder until they become snow. So they sit in front of the wood stove and cuddle, comfort each other.

Another crack of thunder startles them both. It's far away, the storm is leaving, but Viktor chatters in his grip, pressing Jayce's head to his chest so he can hear the heartbeat there. That is Jayce's real comfort: the steady beat of life versus the shock of untraceable thunder. The flash of lightning shocks him again.

"It's okay," Viktor murmurs as Jayce wraps his arms to cradle his partner closer. "I have you, Jayce."

He knows why Viktor is afraid. He won't admit it-can't tell Jayce, but it isn't a lie. Viktor is afraid because the last time he heard a sound remotely similar it was Jayce pointing a weapon at him to save the world. Viktor thinks Jayce is afraid for the same reason.

He's not.

Well, that was awful-awful in a way he will never forget-but he doesn't regret it. He doesn't regret it the same way Viktor doesn't regret him doing it. He doesn't regret it because it ended with them here, together.

He presses a kiss to Viktor's collarbone, where the skin is exposed.

"I have you," he says, curling Viktor down to hold him tight. Viktor loves the pressure, loves the touch, seeks it out. "Okay? I have you."

He can't admit to Viktor his real fear.

Viktor is afraid of the sound because it reminds him of his own undoing, of his actions he did while sick. Viktor is afraid of the sound because every boom is a reminder of a life he unknowingly took. For Viktor, the sound of thunder is each action that made him less human, the flash of lightning is the reminder he-some version of him-forced Jayce to do the one thing he didn't want to do.

He cradles Viktor in his lap. He holds him tight, wants their bodies to become one again. Jayce can't tell Viktor why he fears the sound. Why each storm scares him, even though he gets a little less afraid every time.

Another crack of thunder rolls in, but this time, only Jayce shakes. Viktor, like he hoped, is asleep, calmed by Jayce's slow petting and tight hug. He stands, shaking, careful of his knee and carries Viktor to their room. The bed is unmade, but he lays Viktor underneath the comforters, and curls in beside him, so that Viktor's head is against his chest.

This is how Jayce will sleep. He allows Viktor to think he can't, in the morning, if he wakes first, he'll move them back to the couch and pretend they woke up there. If Viktor wakes first, he'll lie and say he fell asleep right after.

Likely, it will take him until the storm fully passes.

Jayce is afraid of the storm because he pictures Viktor's body, laid in rubble, barely alive, near death. Every flash of lightning reminds him of his own killing, of leaving Viktor behind to move to the next stage, because it was what he himself told Jayce to do.

Jayce is not afraid of thunder because of regret.

Jayce is afraid because the storm reminds him of the death of the one person who matters the most.

So he lays, his heart only calming as Viktor smiles in his sleep, his touch against his cheek.

Jayce comforts Viktor by letting him curl around Jayce, feeling his presence, allowing him to believe he's helping. He is-Jayce doesn't lie like that-but that's not the whole truth. No. The reality is this: Viktor comforts Jayce by simply being there with each boom of thunder, by breathing through each flash of lightning.

Then, when the storm finally passes, minutes or hours from now, Jayce will sleep, calmer, his arms wrapped around his soulmate.

For now, though, as the storm slowly moves, he focuses on Viktor's breathing, the rise and fall of his chest, the tiny sounds he makes.

All to remind himself that Viktor will never again pass, not by someone else's hand, and not by his own.

Never again.

send me drabble requests or ask questions here!

[rainbowvamp]

An outtake from the Viktor DID fic. Won't be in the final cut because it's 100% Jayce' POV. Also, probably WON'T be the final version of the note Jayce sends. It's not awkward enough. But, first drafts are for breaking eggs and burning pancakes, so here's something half baked.

cw: sex mentioned

----

Viktor wakes too early with a foggy brain. He doesn’t quite remember going to sleep last night, but he tries not to think about it as he pulls himself out of bed and starts to ready himself for the the day. 

On his nightstand, there are a couple of papers that say “Read Me” in the obnoxious Piltovian style script that lets him know he was not out last night when he went to bed, and sighs, ignoring them in favor of putting on his braces and getting ready for the day. 

He takes the notes with him to the dining table once he is as ready as he can be, not in enough pain for V to come out, but not nearly comfortable. 

The top note is written on his own stationary (a ridiculous splurge made by the alter that now called himself Vik to align himself with Piltover’s expectations). The note below it is written on what appears to be a paper napkin. 

Viktor has been through this song and dance a few times before. Vik and he had the hardest mental barrier, and so they’d taken to leaving each other notes (or Vik had taken to leaving him notes, at least). 

So, he opened the note that said “Read Me”, with his own stationary header poking out of the top of the fold, and braced himself for the worst. 

Hello my sleepy counterpart. I hope you’re well.

I had a very interesting conversation with our partner yesterday. The one that you pretend you do not pine for. The one who you pretend is not obsessed with you in the most obvious ways known to man. He has figured out our little secret, has named 3 of us (You, me, and V), and refuses to let me bring him home unless you consent to it. Isn’t he a sweetheart? 

Viktor, dearest counter. Please tell Jayce Talis that you wish to fuck him so that I may fuck him. Just look at him, Viktor. You cannot deny that we would enjoy it.

Consider this, for me. As a repayment for all the funding I got you the last time I was out. I even got that slimey Councilman Salo to invest in hextech and I didn’t even sleep with him or any of the councilors, per your request. No loss for me, I’m sure. He’s probably terrible in bed. Pilties mostly are.

But I’m think Jayce would be an exception. Please. For me. Say I can fuck him. V is sitting in the back of our brain right now trying to tell me why this would be a bad idea, but V is paranoid. Do not listen to him. He tells lies. He thinks Jayce, who is a duckling that has imprinted on us, might possibly be capable of hurting us. V cannot be trusted. Trust me. Fuck Jayce. Please and thank you.

Sincerely and eternally yours,

Vik

“Fuck.” Viktor groans. He’d been afraid for a while that Vik might go after Jayce. He’d ruined Viktor’s final semester at the academy by sleeping with his project partner and souring the relationship, leaving Viktor to do most of the work while his partner avoided the lab entirely. His lab partner at the time had assumed something more might come of the casual hook up, but Viktor hadn’t been interested in him in that way, and Vik was only interested in sex, not in love. 

Ultimately, it had lead to his final project being less than what it could’ve been, though still successful, and Viktor being so exhausted that V had spent most of finals week out and earned himself a reputation around campus. 

Viktor didn’t want that to happen with Jayce. Didn’t want Vik to start something that might end them both. 

He tried not to panic when he picked up the napkin that also had Vik’s obnoxious scrawl on it and read “From Jayce Talis” on the front. 

Sure enough, the hand writing on the inside was definitely Jayce’s. 

Dear Viktor,

Don’t freak out, but I know about the DID. I’ve suspected for while, but Vik (the one who comes out at galas and stuff) confirmed it. Please don’t be mad at him. 

He propositioned me. Like… sexually. I want you to know that I am not going to do anything with him without your explicit consent. I’m not going to ask for permission, because that feels patronizing to you and him. If he and you want to have a discussion about whether you’d be okay with that, and then let me know the result of that conversation, I’d be grateful, but I am not going to push the subject. If you never mention it again, neither will I. I’ll always be happy just to have you as my friend.

Jayce

P.S. This doesn’t change anything. You’re still my partner. Always will be. Every part of you. You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried at this point. We’re too good together.

Viktor’s throat felt tight, and he swallowed hard, dropping both the notes back onto the kitchen table and deciding that it needed to be a not-now problem. 

[eve6262]

jayvik week day 2 - evolution/[broken]

The shattered glass forms a halo around his form, and though he's always been devout to Viktor he now feels the same religious intensity those lunatic cultists do, if but for a moment.

It feels like he is witnessing the birth of a savior, in a way. The stained glass lays in pieces surrounding his form, which is passed out in the center of the circle. Half skin, half metal, mask discarded in his hand with his face open to the world. Thankfully it's just them, and Jayce has every plan in the world to preserve his privacy when he brings them back, but for this moment that he is stunned-

Viktor has fallen from the heavens, he thinks, a metal messenger of salvation, descended so quickly and shattered the glass with the force of his impact, fell into slumber from the force of it all.

The man is hopelessly broken, Jayce knows. Beaten and battered by the world around them. It only makes him love more; an angel with torn wings, thin hollow bones snapping under the pressure of entry into this atmosphere.

He picks up Viktor gently, as though his bones are actually hollow. As if there's no metal that binds his frame, reinforces what used to need a brace and allows the tendons to move without so much friction it burns itself. Such reverence is only natural in the force of a man who feels like he should've been preserved among the clouds in Targon, became one of the myriad of their strange heavenly creatures and been granted eternal life for his love and dedication.

Instead, he brings him inside his home on Emberlift Alley and gently places him onto the bed. Poor thing has a fever- he didn't want to admit he was sick, pretending that half-people half-robots can't get sick as though he doesn't take constant medication to prevent the metal poisoning from killing him instead.

It's always one thing after another, with his health. At least now he's stable. Getting no better, certainly- his cheeks are still too hollow compared to when they first met, skin too pale, but it's not as bad as those last days he worked on the hexcore- but no worse. A happy stasis.

If only stasis could last.

"Jayce," calls out a voice from the bed beside him.

"Shh. Go to sleep, V. I'll wake you up when I find you something to eat."

"Mmph. You have council work."

"I disappear all the time."

"All the more reason not to miss work," he retaliates. It's always a fight with Viktor if he's not sick enough to have lost his voice, because then he deems himself perfectly fine. It must be the hoarse, scratchy sounds reaching his ears that make him lay down and allow any coddling.

"They can operate without me. Besides, I know the agenda for today. It's not important- nothing that would require a close vote."

"What if they do?"

"If it's close enough they have to do it later. Trust me, V," he says, pushing hair away reverently, and oh, isn't this an angel in his arms, "Even if I was there I'd be no help."

Silence permeates the room. Jayce's hand is firmly in Viktor's hair, and though it hasn't happened yet, inevitably Viktor will lay his head on the man's lap. When solely depends on when he gives into the idea that he is terribly, awfully sick.

"...'s broken."

"Hm?"

"I promised I would fix it. But it's broken."

"What is?"

"Jinx's friend."

"Shh. Come here."

"I promised."

"It's alright. Jinx will understand." He can't promise that. He knows next to nothing about the absolutely maniac girl, save that she has somehow become Zaun's leader after everything and that she has all the calm of a panic attack. She's also Vi's sister, at some point, and Viktor has some kind of soft spot for her despite their occasional fight.

"I promised."

"Then you can fix it later. Did you promise her when it would be fixed?"

Viktor shakes his head.

"Okay. Then once you can operate without fainting, okay? Then you can fix it."

"Alright."

He must be particularly delirious, because he never accepts this easily when his voice isn't shot. But nonetheless Jayce finds himself with a lapful of a vaguely feverish angel whose wings have been torn to shreds and dusted with the grey of humanity, broken and battered. What he wouldn't do to have reverently kissed his hands and kept away all the hurt in all their earlier days, when he knew only short satisfactions and getting his way.

"I'm sorry, you know."

"You say that all the time."

"Never enough."

Viktor shifts, bringing two hands to lamely hug Jayce. He has to sit up a bit to do it, now curling onto his chest instead of in his lap. "Enough for me. Always."

"Go to sleep."

"I broke it."

He's not talking about Jinx's friend, Jayce thinks.

"No. No, it was my fault. If it was anyone's- it all started without either of us."

Viktor nods against his chest. "It broke."

"And you were the one who fixed it. Sleep."

This time he does, breath evening out on Jayce's chest. He hums, content, and slowly falls asleep himself.

--

playing ruined king again after a while. think they finally fixed the bug on switch that made it unplayable so pog

~Eve6262

[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