#Jayvik x platonic!reader

[aspenmissing]

Could you do arcane characters reacting to finding abandoned baby!reader? Pls?

ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴏɴᴇ?

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ-ɪꜱʜ

7274 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ʙᴀʙʏ ᴀʙᴀɴᴅᴏɴᴍᴇɴᴛ, ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ꜰɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ ᴀɴᴏɴ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴛᴀɴᴅᴀʀᴅ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ɪᴛ!

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx

JAYCE

Piltover was quiet on this particular night, with only the soft sounds of the wind and distant footsteps breaking the silence. The streets were blanketed in a fresh layer of snow, casting an ethereal glow over the city. Jayce had just left the workshop, his mind buzzing with thoughts of new inventions and blueprints. The weight of the day hung on his shoulders, and all he longed for was the warmth of home and the solace of a cup of tea by the fire.

His path took him through an alleyway he’d often passed by without a second thought, the path worn but familiar. Yet tonight, something was different. A faint sound cut through the quiet—a weak, heart-wrenching cry that made Jayce’s heart skip a beat.

“Is someone there?” he called, his voice breaking the stillness, but the only response was the soft, pitiful cry that seemed to echo against the stone walls of the alley.

His brow furrowed in concern. He wasn’t sure what it was, but something in the sound caught his attention. Without another thought, Jayce stepped forward, moving deeper into the alley, his boots crunching against the snow beneath him. The distant streetlights barely illuminated the narrow passage, casting long, flickering shadows that seemed to twist and shift in the dark.

Then, he saw it.

In the far corner of the alley, huddled against the cold stone of a building, was a small, fragile form—a bundle of ragged cloth, shaking violently. The faint cry came again, though softer now, almost as though the child had no strength left to keep wailing.

Jayce’s breath caught in his throat. He quickly crossed the distance between them, his pulse quickening. Kneeling beside you, he saw the tiny figure wrapped in a torn cloth that looked as though it hadn’t seen a wash in months. Your face, little more than a faint outline against the dark fabric, was flushed red from the cold, your lips trembling as another shiver wracked your tiny body.

He reached for you, instinct overriding everything else. “Hey, it’s okay,” Jayce murmured, his voice soft but firm. “I’ve got you.”

He gently scooped you into his arms, feeling the cold that had seeped deep into your skin. You whimpered in his arms, your tiny fists shaking in the air as if reaching for something. Jayce’s heart broke. Who would leave a child out here, alone and freezing? The thought sent a sharp pang of anger through him, but it was quickly drowned out by the overwhelming need to get you warm and safe.

“Don’t worry, little one,” he whispered, cradling you against his chest. His coat was thick and warm, and he wrapped it around you as best he could, pulling you close as though to shield you from the bitter wind.

Your tiny form shivered in his embrace, and Jayce’s mind raced, his heart pounding as he thought about how he could help you. He’d been cold before— he knew the sharp, biting chill that crept into your bones and the exhaustion that followed. But he’d never imagined something like this—finding a baby, alone and vulnerable in the freezing cold of night.

Without another moment’s hesitation, Jayce stood, holding you tightly against him. He moved quickly, almost running, his boots pounding against the cobblestones as he rushed towards his home. The thought of what might have happened if he hadn’t found you gnawed at him.

==

His home wasn’t far, a simple place with modest furnishings but enough to offer comfort and warmth. The fire in the hearth crackled as he rushed through the door, slamming it shut behind him to block out the cold. The familiar warmth of the room wrapped around him, and Jayce immediately moved to the nearby sofa, laying you down gently on the soft cushions. The contrast between the warmth of the room and the chill that still clung to your skin made Jayce’s heart ache.

He grabbed a thick wool blanket from a chair nearby and draped it carefully over you, but the sight of your small, trembling form still pulled at his heart. There was no time to waste—he needed to get you warm, to make sure you were going to be okay.

Jayce’s hands worked quickly, though with a careful gentleness. He pulled off his own coat, draping it over you before going to the fireplace to stoke the fire higher. He didn’t want to leave you alone for too long, so his movements were quick and purposeful.

As the fire crackled, Jayce grabbed a fresh cloth, dipping it in warm water, and began gently wiping your cheeks and brow. Your breathing had slowed, but your skin was still cold to the touch. He murmured reassurances to you as he worked, soft words meant to calm both you and himself.

“Stay with me, little one,” he whispered. “You’re safe now.”

Once he was certain you were warm enough, he turned his attention to your hunger. There was milk in his fridge, and though Jayce was inexperienced with children, he figured it would have to do. He grabbed a sippy cup bottle he had been using for an experiment, relieved he’d decided to clean it earlier. He warmed it on the stove, his mind racing with thoughts of how to care for you. His heart felt full with something he hadn’t expected—a deep, protective instinct that surged as he prepared to feed you.

When he returned to your side, you were still awake, your little eyes blinking up at him. The sight made his heart swell. Carefully, Jayce cradled you in his arms again, gently guiding the bottle to your lips. You took it eagerly, your small hands grasping at the bottle, as if you instinctively trusted him.

“Good girl,” Jayce murmured, smiling down at you. “You’re so strong.”

Once you finished, he wiped your chin with his thumb, chuckling softly at the little mess you’d made. The warmth of the fire, the milk, and Jayce’s steady presence seemed to lull you into a peaceful sleep.

As Jayce sat back, holding you close in his arms, he couldn’t help but reflect on how his life had changed in a single moment. He had been alone—focused on his work, consumed by the demands of his inventions and the weight of his ambitions. But now, with you in his arms, he realised that there was something far more important than any invention. There was this—this fragile, helpless life that needed him.

“You’re not alone anymore,” Jayce whispered, his voice full of conviction. “I’ll take care of you, no matter what. You’re family now.”

And with that promise, he held you close, the warmth of the fire and the safety of his home wrapping around you both as the snow continued to fall outside, a new chapter beginning for the two of you.

VIKTOR

The streets of Zaun were darker than usual that night, the usual hum of machines and the faint clatter of industry buzzing in the distance. Viktor, as always, found himself traversing the lower city, his mind consumed by thoughts of his latest invention, a device that could bring the promise of progress to both Piltover and Zaun. The cold air bit at his skin, but Viktor paid it no mind—he was used to the chill, as he was used to the struggle of progress in Zaun.

His cane clicked softly against the cobblestones with every step, the sound blending with the constant hum of the city. Viktor’s body bore the marks of his years of work—the brace on his leg creaked with each movement, and the support of his back brace was a necessary burden. He had built so much, but his body, strained and fragile, bore the weight of it all.

Lost in thought, he barely noticed the bundle at first. It was tucked against the wall of an old, dilapidated building, the kind that seemed to be a part of Zaun’s very bones. At first, he thought it might be just another stray animal, some forgotten debris, but then came the sound that pierced through his concentration—the faint cry of a child. Soft. Fragile.

Viktor’s steps faltered, and his gaze snapped toward the source of the noise.

A child? Here, in the heart of Zaun?

He paused, his breath catching in his chest as he scanned the alley. The darkness seemed to stretch around him, the shadows deep and unyielding. There was no sign of anyone else—no frantic parent, no guardian, no one to claim the child as their own. Just you, wrapped in ragged cloth, your tiny body trembling in the cold.

The world around Viktor seemed to slow. His sharp eyes took in every detail: your small, vulnerable form, the way your hands clenched instinctively at the cloth, the faint red tint of your chilled cheeks. You were so small, so helpless. His heart, usually so guarded and focused solely on the pursuit of progress, tightened in his chest. The cruelty of Zaun had claimed many lives, but a baby? This was a different kind of tragedy.

Viktor took a step back, his cane tapping against the ground as he moved, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. His life had been dedicated to progress, to building a future where suffering like this would not exist, yet here it was—raw, unrelenting, right in front of him. He had never been one to nurture or care for others, but in this moment, something stirred within him. He knew he couldn’t just walk away. Not now.

The cry of your tiny voice grew louder, more desperate, and with each sob, Viktor felt something he hadn’t expected—a deep, unexplainable sense of responsibility. A need to protect. He hesitated for a long moment, his thoughts racing. It was a risk, taking you. He had no experience with children—hell, he barely had experience caring for himself at times—but the weight of your cries, the weight of your life in his hands, made it impossible to turn away.

With a quiet sigh, Viktor muttered to himself, “It appears I have no choice.”

He approached you cautiously, his movements deliberate. As he knelt down, the sharp whir of his cane echoed in the silence of the alley, a contrast to the softness of the moment. With great care, he extended his arm, gently lifting you from the cold ground. Your eyes fluttered open at the sudden movement, wide and full of confusion. When you looked at him, your gaze seemed to hold something innocent, something trusting, and in that moment, Viktor felt a strange connection.

“You are safe now,” he whispered, though he wasn’t sure who he was trying to reassure—himself or you.

You whimpered softly, but you didn’t struggle. Your tiny body, bundled in the tattered cloth, was still cold to the touch, and Viktor couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. He could feel the chill in his bones, but to see you, so small and frail, exposed to it—it was almost too much to bear. His legs, encumbered by the brace that supported his weakened joints, felt heavy, but he powered through the pain, moving with the kind of resolve he only ever seemed to have when faced with an impossible decision.

He straightened, using his cane to support his weight as he carefully cradled you in his arms. The brace on his leg creaked with every step, and the pressure on his back made him wince, but he ignored the discomfort. He had no choice but to keep moving forward. His thoughts were focused solely on getting you somewhere safe.

As Viktor walked, his mind wandered briefly to the name he would give you. He didn’t even know if you had one—who would leave a child here, alone, in the cold? But as he watched the steady rise and fall of your chest, the way your little hands curled slightly around his coat, he decided.

“Y/N,” he murmured softly, as though testing the name. “I think that suits you.”

He wasn’t sure why he had chosen it, or why it felt so right. Perhaps it was because he had always believed that names carried meaning, that they defined people in ways that no other word could. And for you, this name felt like a promise—one of protection, one of care. A promise Viktor wasn’t sure he could keep, but one he would try to fulfill nonetheless.

“I’ll take you somewhere safe” he whispered again, more to himself than to you, as he began walking toward Piltover. The journey was long, and the weight of your small body in his arms was a reminder of just how fragile life was. It wasn’t just the streets of Zaun that made him feel the cold; it was the knowledge that so many others had been left behind, forgotten. But not you. Not now.

JAYVIK

It was a typical afternoon for Jayce—well, as typical as life in Piltover could be. He’d just wrapped up a marathon of meetings and was on his way to the lab, eager to discuss some new ideas with Viktor. His steps were brisk, confident, his mind racing with plans for the next big breakthrough. But then, in the blink of an eye, everything changed.

Out of nowhere, a woman appeared, breathless and panicked. Before Jayce could say a word, she practically shoved a small bundle into his arms. “Take care of her!” she gasped, turning and bolting off into the crowd like a phantom, disappearing without a trace.

Jayce stood there, frozen, holding a tiny baby in his arms. His eyes widened as the baby blinked up at him, her face utterly serene, as if she hadn’t just been handed over to the most bewildered person in all of Piltover. Jayce glanced back at the crowd, but the woman was long gone.

“Uh… excuse me?” Jayce muttered, his voice more to himself than to anyone else. He then looked down at the baby, looking into her eyes. “Uhm... Hello?"

Still unsure of what to do, Jayce adjusted the baby in his arms, attempting to look somewhat comfortable, even though his internal panic was through the roof. The weight of her in his arms was oddly reassuring, like a grounding force. It wasn’t until he started walking toward the lab that it hit him: He had no idea how to care for a baby. Wasn’t he supposed to have training for this? Or at least some sort of basic manual?

Jayce reached the lab, pushing the door open with his elbow. Viktor was hunched over his workbench, entirely absorbed in his latest project, his cane leaning against the table nearby. Jayce walked in, trying to look nonchalant, but the baby shifted in his arms, making soft cooing noises. Viktor didn’t look up.

“Well, Viktor,” Jayce began, tone a bit more strained than he intended. “I’ve acquired a baby. Not sure if it’s permanent, but... here she is.” He shifted the bundle, clearly still getting used to the tiny form in his arms.

Viktor didn’t flinch. His mind was already too deep into his calculations, completely ignoring Jayce’s dramatic entrance. He continued working, lost in his world of gears and wires. Jayce sighed, glancing down at the baby, who was now staring up at him, as if wondering the same thing he was: What the hell just happened?

“Viktor!” Jayce raised his voice a little, just enough to get his attention. “What exactly am I supposed to do with her?”

Viktor’s hands froze. He didn’t turn around immediately, just processing the words. Then, slowly, he twisted in his chair, finally noticing the small bundle in Jayce’s arms. His brow furrowed as he took in the scene. Jayce, looking utterly unprepared, was holding a baby. Viktor blinked, his gaze widening.

“You… have a child.” Viktor’s accented voice was flat, but there was a flicker of amusement beneath it. “I didn’t realise you were that committed to your... new projects.”

Jayce, still adjusting to the reality of the situation, gave Viktor a sheepish grin. “Well, she’s not exactly my ‘project,’ but a woman just thrust her into my arms and ran away. I didn’t get much of a choice"

Viktor eyed him with mild disbelief. “And you thought to bring her here? To the lab?”

Jayce, now feeling the full weight of the absurdity of it all, chuckled awkwardly. “Well, where else was I supposed to take her? Besides, she looks like she might be your responsibility too now, right?”

Viktor stared at him for a moment, the smirk on the edge of his lips barely visible. “You’re the one who’s going to have to deal with the shrieking and dirty diapers, Jayce, not me.”

Jayce shot him a look. “Yeah, I definitely didn’t sign up for this. But now I’m here, and she’s here…” He glanced down at the baby, who was now staring up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “So... what do we do with her, Vik”

Viktor paused, running a hand through his hair, his cane resting against the bench. “I suppose we could look into some kind of care routine. For now, though, I’m not sure what kind of expertise I can offer. I’m not exactly a nanny.”

Jayce let out a deep sigh, shifting the baby yet again. “I didn’t even know I was capable of holding a baby. I feel like I might drop her at any second.”

Viktor walked over, eyes scanning the situation with a hint of concern hiding behind his sarcastic tone. “Well, she does seem to have latched on to you. Maybe you do have some hidden paternal instincts.”

Jayce rolled his eyes. “Please, Vik. This is a disaster.”

The baby made a soft noise, like a little giggle. Jayce glanced down, and to his surprise, the baby was actually smiling up at him. A tiny hand reached out and grabbed the collar of his shirt, tugging slightly.

Jayce looked at Viktor, wide-eyed. “Did she just—?”

Viktor, trying to hold back a chuckle, said, “It seems she has chosen you, Jayce. You’re her new father now.”

Jayce sighed, defeated. “Well, looks like I’m not getting out of this one. Great.”

Viktor’s lips twitched into a rare smile. “Perhaps I should offer a little guidance, then. We could make a few adjustments to her care routine... Maybe even design a more efficient formula dispenser.”

Jayce shot Viktor an incredulous look. “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?”

Viktor, now fully enjoying the moment, shrugged nonchalantly. “What can I say? I’m always looking for improvements.”

Jayce chuckled in spite of himself. The lab, with its machinery and gadgets, suddenly felt warmer, more alive. As the baby cooed softly in his arms, he couldn’t help but think that, maybe, this wasn’t so bad. And perhaps, just perhaps, Viktor’s teasing wasn’t so unwelcome after all.

“Guess we’ll figure it out together,” Jayce muttered, glancing down at the tiny bundle in his arms with a soft smile.

Viktor’s expression softened as he leans against the workbench, his cane resting against the table. He looked at Jayce, who was now leaning against the workbench besides him, still holding the tiny baby in his arms. There was a quiet tension between them, the weight of the situation still settling in.

“I suppose so,” Viktor said with a sigh, his lips curling into a faint smirk. “Just don’t expect me to change any diapers, Jayce. You’re on your own with that.”

Jayce smirked back, the corners of his mouth twitching into a rare grin. “Well, I didn’t exactly sign up for this, either. But I think I can manage.”

For a moment, the two of them stood in a comfortable silence, both adjusting to the strange reality of their new situation. Jayce glanced down at the baby, her small form so fragile in his arms, her calm presence oddly comforting. She was looking up at him, her eyes wide with curiosity, as if trying to make sense of her surroundings.

“What should we name her?” Jayce asked quietly, glancing over at Viktor for some input.

Viktor raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by the question. “You’re asking me to name a child?”

Jayce shrugged, still holding the baby gently. “Well, she didn’t exactly come with instructions.”

Viktor let out a small sigh, his lips curling into a slight, amused smirk. “I suppose… Y/N. It’s simple, but it suits her. Strong, gentle.”

Jayce looked down at the baby once more, his eyes softening as he tested the name. “Y/N…” he murmured, almost to himself. It felt right—simple but meaningful, a name that carried both strength and tenderness.

“Y/N,” Jayce repeated, his voice taking on a rare warmth. He looked down at the tiny bundle in his arms again, feeling a sense of responsibility settle in. “Alright, Y/N. I guess we’re in this together.”

Viktor stood beside him, his gaze lingering on the baby. He gently reached out with a finger, brushing it lightly against Y/N’s cheek. The touch was soft, almost tender, as if he, too, was coming to terms with the new reality.

As Viktor’s finger lingered against Y/N’s skin, Jayce’s expression softened. For the first time in a long while, the lab felt less like a place of intense work and more like a home—a place where something new was beginning.

And in that quiet moment, with both men standing side by side, the strange chaos of the day seemed to settle into a surprising sense of calm. Jayce, Viktor, and little Y/N—a new chapter in their lives had just begun.

VANDER

The streets of Zaun had always been unpredictable. One moment they were alive with the energy of its people, and the next, they were smothered in the oppressive silence after a failed rebellion. Vander, a man who had seen it all in this crumbling city, was no stranger to the aftermath of violence, but this time, something was different.

The sounds of chaos had barely faded when Vander stumbled upon the wreckage of a collapsed building. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and blood, but there, amongst the rubble, something caught his eye. A soft cry, faint but unmistakable, echoed from the twisted remains. His heart skipped a beat as he pushed through the debris, his hands trembling as they reached for the small figure beneath the rubble.

It was a baby. A tiny girl, barely old enough to be away from her mother’s care, and yet here she was, alone. Her mother lay lifeless beside her, a victim of the violence that had taken so many lives. Vander’s stomach turned, but he didn’t hesitate. Carefully, he scooped the baby up in his arms, her small form looking so fragile against his broad chest.

He didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t a father. He had his own responsibilities, his own battles to fight, but this child... she didn’t deserve to be alone. The weight of the decision pressed heavily on him. What kind of life would she have in Zaun, with the city falling apart around them?

As he made his way back to the house, cradling the baby in his arms, his thoughts were a storm of confusion and concern. Felicia had always been the one to take the reins when it came to caring for children. Vi, barely a year old, was still young and needed constant care. Vander couldn't help but wonder how they would adjust to the new addition. How could he care for this girl when his own life felt so uncertain?

Felicia was busy at the stove when he walked in, her eyes immediately narrowing as she saw the bundle in his arms.

“Vander?” she asked softly, her voice laced with surprise. “What’s this?”

He hesitated, looking down at the baby, whose eyes were wide with innocence, unaware of the violence that had just claimed her mother’s life. He sighed heavily, rubbing his brow. “I found her, Felicia. After the fight. Her mother didn’t make it.” He paused for a moment, unsure of how to explain. “I... I don’t know what to do with her.”

Felicia, ever the practical one, took in the situation with a quiet assessment. Her gaze softened as she approached, her hands instinctively reaching out to take the baby from Vander’s arms.

“We’ll figure it out,” she said, her voice calm and reassuring. “You’ve got a good heart, Vander. She’s lucky you found her.”

Vander watched as Felicia adjusted the baby in her arms with practiced ease, the same gentle movements she had used when handling Vi when she was a baby. He felt a pang in his chest. He wasn’t sure he was cut out for this. He wasn’t a father, not really. He was a protector, a fighter, but this was a new challenge. How could he take care of a child who had already lost so much?

Felicia glanced up at him, noticing his uncertainty. “You’re going to be fine. Don’t worry about it too much.” She began to rock the baby gently in her arms, offering Vander a reassuring smile. “The first thing you need to know is that she’ll need feeding. Don’t forget that, or you’ll be in for a rough night.”

Vander nodded, his brow furrowing in concentration as he listened. Felicia was always the voice of reason, the calm to his storm. “I’ll figure it out,” he said, though he wasn’t entirely convinced.

As Felicia spoke more about feeding and settling the baby, Vander couldn’t help but steal glances at her. There was something so delicate, so helpless about the tiny girl in Felicia’s arms. The idea that he was now responsible for another life, one so vulnerable in this cruel world, unsettled him. But the more he watched Felicia, the more confident he became in his ability to do this.

He could protect her. He could provide a safe place for her, just as he had always done for the people in his life.

Vi’s tiny voice echoed from the other room, the sound of her giggling as she tried to walk, still unsteady on her feet. Vander turned to look at her through the open door, his heart swelling with love for the little girl who had been a part of his life since her birth. She was still so young, her wide eyes full of wonder as she explored the world around her. He had always been her protector, but now, this new child needed him too.

Felicia handed the baby back to him, and this time, he took her with a bit more confidence. The little one squirmed in his arms, making small cooing noises, and Vander’s heart melted. He hadn’t realised it before, but the connection he felt for this child was already beginning to form, even if it was just the beginning.

“What’s her name?” Felicia asked, breaking his thoughts.

Vander hesitated again, looking down at the tiny face in his arms. He hadn’t even thought about that yet. “I... don’t know. She doesn’t have anyone left, Felicia. It doesn’t feel right naming her after someone who’s gone.”

Felicia smiled softly, her eyes warm. “Then you name her, Vander. She’s yours now, too. Give her a name that means something to you.”

Vander looked down at the baby once more, feeling the weight of the moment. He could hear the sounds of Vi’s laughter in the next room, her tiny feet pattering against the floor, and the occasional soft squeal of a toy being thrown to the side. This little girl would grow up alongside her and he would do everything in his power to give her a life filled with love and safety.

His mind drifted for a moment, and then he spoke softly, the name feeling right as it left his lips. “Y/N. She’s Y/N.”

Felicia’s eyes softened with approval. “Y/N it is. A good name.”

Vander gently rocked the baby, her soft breaths filling the silence of the room. As the first rays of light filtered through the windows, he felt something shift inside him. He wasn’t just Vander the enforcer, the protector of the Undercity. Now, he was a father, and this child—this little girl—his little girl—would be his to care for, his to protect.

And with that, Vander silently vowed to give Y/N the life she deserved, to raise her as one of his own, with love and protection in a world that had taken so much from so many.

SILCO

In the heart of Zaun, the air was thick with tension as Silco and his men faced off against a rival faction in the dimly lit alleyways of the undercity. The deal, once promising, had rapidly spiralled into chaos, with gunfire ricocheting off the grimy walls and explosions shaking the very foundation of the city. Silco’s gaze never wavered from the task at hand. His mind was a steel trap, calculating, assessing. He barked orders to his henchmen, directing them to hold their ground.

"We can't afford to lose this," he snarled, voice edged with irritation as his men worked tirelessly to push back the ambush. His hands clenched at his sides, not from fear or panic, but from the growing frustration that this wasn’t going according to plan. Explosions rattled the nearby buildings, sending bits of debris raining down, but Silco stayed focused, a storm of calculations swirling behind his steely eyes.

Then, as the violence unfolded, Silco’s sharp ears caught something unexpected—a faint sound, so soft at first, it seemed like an illusion. The high-pitched cry of an infant.

For a heartbeat, Silco thought he had misheard. But the cry rang out again, unmistakable. A baby.

His eyes snapped toward the source of the sound, his usual cold expression betraying an emotion that was far more vulnerable—surprise, maybe even something softer. He had no time for innocence. No time for the helpless. He had a city to control, power to grasp. And yet, this sound, this fragile call for help, resonated somewhere deep within him.

Without thinking, he ordered his closest men to continue fighting.

"Hold them off. I'll be back. Keep them distracted, do whatever you must," Silco commanded, his tone firm but sharp, leaving no room for questioning. His men hesitated for a moment, confusion flickering in their eyes.

"Boss, what about—?"

"No questions," Silco interrupted, his voice steady, commanding. "Get to work."

His body was a blur of movement as he darted through the crumbling building, dodging debris and stepping carefully over shattered glass. The sounds of distant gunfire and shouting barely registered as his mind zeroed in on the cries, growing louder with each step. The building around him was unstable, shaking with every explosion. Yet Silco pressed on, his every movement deliberate and purposeful.

At the far end of the room, amidst the wreckage, he saw it—a small crib, overturned in the chaos. A bundle of old, frayed fabric sat next to it, the sound of the child’s cries filling the room. He knelt carefully, his heart inexplicably stilling at the sight of the tiny, trembling infant. The baby’s face was scrunched with distress, its small body shaking as it cried for someone to help.

For a moment, Silco stood frozen. He had no use for softness, no room for care when it came to the world of Zaun. Yet, in this moment, he couldn’t look away. There was something about this fragile life, so delicate, that made his usual ruthless exterior crack, just slightly.

His heart, an organ he thought he had long since abandoned, stirred with an unfamiliar sensation. He couldn’t explain it, nor did he want to. Silco was a man of control, but this was something that defied control.

He moved quickly, scooping the baby up in his arms, holding her close as if he could protect her from the crumbling world around them. The cries lessened as his presence seemed to calm her. It was unsettling, the way she responded to him, but he didn’t dwell on it. The building was collapsing, and he needed to get out.

With the infant cradled securely in his arms, Silco made his way back into the fray. The sound of gunfire rang out once more, but he paid no mind. His men moved to form a protective barrier around him as they made their way towards the alley, ensuring no harm would come to their boss or the child in his arms.

As they moved swiftly through the maze of ruined streets, Silco glanced down at the baby. Her tiny hand gripped his finger tightly, her soft skin warm against his cold, calloused hand. His expression softened for a split second—his gaze lingering on her face, something akin to protectiveness flickering in his eyes before he quickly masked it. The weight of the child, so small, seemed to add a new layer of responsibility he wasn’t used to.

==

They arrived at the Last Drop, and Silco’s men ushered him inside, and as he walked through the door, his eyes caught sight of Powder sitting on the far side of the room, her eyes wide and curious. She had been waiting for his return, the explosion of the earlier chaos still reverberating in the air.

Powder’s gaze flicked immediately to the baby in Silco’s arms, her brow furrowing as she watched them carefully, questioning, uncertain.

"Who’s this?" Powder’s voice was small but filled with confusion, her eyes darting between Silco and the baby.

Silco paused for a moment, his hand tightening around the baby, almost protectively. “She’s… someone I need to look after,” he said, his voice softer than usual, more reluctant than he intended.

The room was silent for a long moment, Powder staring at the baby with wide, curious eyes, her brow furrowed in confusion. She tilted her head, taking in the small bundle Silco was cradling with an intensity that seemed to grow with every passing second. The silence stretched, and then Powder’s voice broke through.

She frowned slightly, her expression thoughtful. “She doesn’t have a name, does she?”

Silco’s gaze flicked briefly to the baby, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if the thought had never crossed his mind. Names weren’t important to him—not in the way Powder seemed to imply. People were tools, pawns in his game for control, not individuals deserving of such personal things.

But the way Powder spoke, the way her eyes held a softness he hadn’t seen before, made him pause. Something tugged at him, a fleeting emotion that was hard to pinpoint, but it lingered in the air between them.

“She’s just a baby," Silco muttered, as if it should be obvious, yet the doubt in his voice betrayed his uncertainty.

Powder’s frown deepened. “She needs a name," she said, the quiet certainty in her voice almost like a gentle reprimand. She took a few steps closer, her tiny hands reaching out towards the baby, and her gaze softened. “She can’t just be… nobody.”

For a long moment, Silco watched her. He didn’t quite understand it, but he couldn’t ignore the weight of her words. After a long silence, he exhaled, the sharp edges of his usual coldness dulling just a little.

“Fine," Silco said with a slight shrug, trying to brush off the moment as if it were unimportant. “What would you name her, then?”

Powder considered the baby for a moment, her eyes thoughtful, then she glanced up at Silco, a small, tentative smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Y/N,” Powder said softly, her voice warm, as though the name itself was a declaration. "Y/N sounds like she’s... meant to be."

Silco didn’t respond at first. He just stood there, staring at the baby in his arms, the weight of her smallness grounding him in a way he didn’t expect. Then, almost imperceptibly, he nodded.

“Y/N,” he echoed, the name settling in his mind. It was strange. Foreign. But it felt... right, in a way he couldn’t explain. Something about it felt final, like it belonged to the fragile life in his arms. Something he hadn’t known he needed.

“Y/N,” he repeated again, this time with the faintest trace of a promise lingering in his voice.

POWDER/JINX

Jinx was skipping through the streets of Zaun, her wild hair bouncing with every step as she hummed a tune only she seemed to know. The city was her playground, and today, just like every other day, she had a dozen schemes brewing in her mind, each one more chaotic than the last. Explosions, pranks, and a little bit of mayhem were the order of the day, and she was loving every minute of it.

She darted between alleyways, giggling to herself, and tossed a few explosive doodads behind her as she skipped away, watching with delight as they detonated in showers of sparks. It was perfect. Zaun was perfect.

But then, something caught her attention. At first, it was so small and insignificant that she almost walked right past it. A bundle of cloth, tucked into a corner near some rubble, barely visible behind a pile of discarded crates. But then—there it was again—a faint sound, a little whimper.

Jinx stopped mid-prance, her head snapping to the side, eyes narrowing in curiosity. She took a few steps closer, her heart thumping in her chest. She peered down at the small bundle.

A baby.

Jinx tilted her head, eyeing the infant with a mix of curiosity and confusion. She’d never been one for babies, but something about this one seemed… off. It was alone. Why is it all alone?

She stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. Maybe someone had left it here? Maybe it was a trap—one of those strange Zaun things she never quite understood. But before she could give it another thought, the sounds of barking and growling interrupted her musings.

She turned sharply, her bright blue eyes locking onto a group of stray dogs coming around the corner. The mangy pack was heading straight for the baby, their teeth bared, growling low in their throats. The hairs on the back of Jinx’s neck stood on end.

“Uh-oh,” Jinx muttered under her breath, her mischievous grin fading for the first time that day. Without missing a beat, she sprinted forward, her boots thudding against the cobblestones.

With a wild scream and a manic twinkle in her eye, Jinx flung herself into the pack of dogs, arms flailing as she let out a battle cry. “Shoo! Go away, you ugly mutts!”

The dogs yelped in confusion and fear, scattering in all directions as Jinx jumped up and down, flailing her arms like a lunatic. The moment they were gone, she turned her attention back to the baby, who, of course, had started crying.

“Great. Now look what you’ve done, you little screamer,” Jinx said, crouching down with her arms outstretched dramatically. “Couldn’t just stay quiet, could you?”

Jinx scooped the baby up effortlessly, holding her as though she were a prized possession, though her wild, erratic movements made it seem like the baby was more of an afterthought. Y/N’s tiny fists were clenched, and her crying only seemed to get louder as she was cradled in Jinx’s arms.

“Shhh! Quiet down!” Jinx cooed, her voice far too loud for a baby’s sensitive ears. She bounced on her heels, rocking Y/N back and forth. “Come on, no need to be all cry-y-y about it! Everything’s fine! I saved your butt from those gnarly dogs! You owe me, little one!"

The baby’s crying only escalated, and Jinx sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes.

“Alright, alright!” Jinx grumbled. She lifted the baby higher, her grin returning with a hint of sweetness. “I get it. You're scared, you're hungry, you're probably thinking 'What the heck is going on?' and honestly, same. But I’m Jinx! The one and only Jinx! And I’m gonna make sure you’re safe... for now. So quit crying already, it’s makin' my head hurt!”

Y/N’s cries didn’t stop, but they slowed, her tiny body pressing against Jinx as she tried to calm down. Jinx huffed, crossing her arms with a pout, clearly frustrated but secretly amused.

“Well, that’s as good as I’m gonna get,” she grinned, tapping the baby’s tiny nose. “You’re gonna be alright. And I guess... I guess you’re kind of cute.”

Jinx squinted down at the baby, her lips curling into a lopsided grin as she rocked back and forth. “But, you’re totally my sidekick now. You can’t just scream like that all the time. You’ve got to be a cool sidekick. Shhhh,” she whispered again, this time softer than before, as if the very concept of calming the baby had caught her off guard.

The baby’s hiccup was so quiet, so small, but Jinx caught it. Her lips curled into a crooked smile, and she gave a little satisfied nod, clearly pleased with herself for at least calming the little screamer down, even if just a little.

"See? Not so bad when you stop yelling, huh?" she grinned, bouncing the baby a bit as she continued to march down the alley. "I guess you’re not totally hopeless."

Y/N’s tiny hands gripped at one of Jinx's braids and for a moment, the chaos of the city around them seemed to fade. There was still the hum of machinery in the background, the occasional shout from passing Zaunites, and the distant whir of a hovercraft zooming by. But in this moment, it was just Jinx and her new... well, sidekick.

Jinx thought for a second, her eyes flicking from Y/N’s scrunched-up face to the crooked streets of Zaun ahead of her.

"Alright, alright, kid," Jinx said, her voice softening but still with that unmistakable quirk of madness. "We can’t just keep calling you baby all the time. You need a real name... Something cool, like me!"

She paused for dramatic effect, glancing down at Y/N with a grin that could only belong to Jinx. "I mean, you’re gonna be famous one day, right? Everyone’s gonna know you. You gotta have a name that makes people go wow."

Jinx tapped her chin thoughtfully, her wild eyes darting around as she searched for inspiration. "Maybe… Boom-Boom?" she suggested with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. But then she quickly waved it off. "Nah, too obvious."

Another moment passed, and then she snapped her fingers with an exaggerated gasp. "I got it! Y/N! Yeah, yeah, that works. Y/N. It's... mysterious. It's cool. It's got that punch to it. Like—BAM!" she added, making an explosive gesture with her hands as if the name itself was a firecracker.

She beamed down at the baby, who was now squirming gently in her arms, eyes blinking up at her in confusion. "You’re Y/N, kid. And you’re gonna be the best sidekick this place has ever seen. That’s a promise!" she added with a dramatic wink.

With a newfound sense of pride, Jinx lifted her arms high, holding Y/N like some strange, glittering trophy. "Alright, Y/N, time for some fun!" she said, spinning around again and nearly tripping over a loose piece of scrap. "Let’s go make some noise!"

And with that, Jinx—her new sidekick in tow—took off through the streets of Zaun, the two of them ready to cause more chaos. But this time, with a little bit of unexpected sweetness in the mix.

[the-odd-shu]

Lab shenanigans

Characters: Viktor, Jayce, Reader

A thread following the chaotic trio that is, laboratory illustrator!Reader, Viktor and Jayce being unsupervised in the lab.

Note this takes place during season 1:

Gender Neutral!Reader who got hired as the lab illustrator because neither Jayce nor Viktor can draw and they need an illustrator to document all their official papers with recognisable diagrams of their inventions.

The next part

Masterlist

Reader who was just freshly been employed as the lab illustrator, sitting diligently at their new desk whilst Jayce fetches the research folder and Viktor tinkers away in the background.

Reader who lets Jayce set down the heavy folder on their desk, which holds all of the pair's research as well as hundreds of cruedly drawn sketches of inventions such as the Hexclaw and early drafts of the Hexgates, drawn by both himself and Viktor. (They are not drawn well, and it is only because most of the drawings are labelled with big, obnoxoious arrows that you actually know what you're looking at).

Jayce pausing in his explanations of the tech on each page and his promises to pull everything out of storage when you need it for a refence, slowly trailing off when he catches sight of your reaction to the drawings: "Why are you making that face?"

Reader who is diligently flicking through the pages and trying not to crack up at the poorly drawn stick figures, and the messy, uneven parallel lines of wires and robotic arms, and the scribbled oblong that is supposed to be one of the gemstones. They're not half bad attempts from people who focus their energy and time into math equations and flowery research papers, but that doesn't mean they're not amusing to look at.

"What face? I'm not making a face."

Reader turns all of their attention down to the pages and proceeds to fail at smothering their snort as the concept sketch of one of the Zaun suits. They push the folder back along the desk, to create enough space to prop their elbows on the table, to pinch the bridge of their nose hard to try and school themselves into some form of calm.

"Why are you laughing?" Jayce asks, sounding geniunely confused.

Whilst Reader tries to save face by responding, "I'm not. I'm just- uh, coming to terms with how much work I have ahead of me."

Jayce frowns.

The commotion has caught Viktor's attention.

"Well, it is a lot." Jayce allows, "but we won't rush you. The deadline is months away after all, and if-"

His words fade into the background in your mind as Viktor chooses then to roll over on his wheelie office chair to see what's going on, only to immediately grin in understanding. He rolls his chair up on the adjascent side of your desk, mouth pulled into a wicked smirk as he points to a particularly wobbly zaun suit drawing. "That would be one of Jayce's masterpieces."

Jayce lets out an offended noise, whilst Viktor takes malicious joy in flipping through the folder to point out which other drawings were done by Jayce. Most of them are wobbly and uneven, but have clearly been mapped out with steady, slow care.

In retaliation, Jayce swipes the folder out of Viktor's gleeful hands, and pointedly flips to a fresher page dated back to a couple of days ago. You catch a glimpse of the title 'hexcore', scrawled across the top in confident letters, before Jayce is turning the folder back to you and loudly proclaiming the work of art as Viktor's.

[The ‘hexcore’ has been drawn with wobbly, uneven lines that lacked the sleek, parallel look of the actual subject, with poorly recreated runes that did not at all take into account perspective or foreshortening.]

Reader loses it at the attempt, whilst Jayce and Viktor continue to squabble with one another in the background.

I just NEED all three of them to spend countless hours in that laboratory getting stuck in their respective tasks (creative Vs Scientific) and all three of them come out aching and satisfied by the time the janitor comes round to kick them out for the night, despite doing jobs that require different parts of their brains. The overlap of countless, almost unsolvable equations, with the hours of staring at a blank page and slowly but surely coaxing out an image, it just so precious to me somehow.

Bonus points of course, if Jayce and Viktor are getting really into a scientific debate across the room by the chalkboard, flinging enormous words back and forth at one another, whilst Reader slowly dies inside trying to make the metal part of an invention LOOK like metal.

I just need Reader allowing the background muttering and excited exclamations to sooth them as they carefully draw another diagram above a neatly scrawled out text box of the pair's latest concept.

Jayce: “Yes! That could work! What do you think, Y/n?”

Reader: Head snaps up at being addressed. “Uh…”

They blue screen as they come back to reality and realise they haven’t moved in hours and their back and neck desperately ache from the movement. They're suddenly starving, and hungry, and really need to pee, but didn't notice before because they were so engrossed in their work. Kind of like how the other two get about their research.

Viktor being a night owl and working on projects late into the night.

Jayce being smart and taking cat naps on his desk because he's an early bird, but a deadline is coming up and he refuses to be defeated by exhaustion.

And then you have Reader. Who is not being supervised in the kitchen, where they've made their fifth coffee and with shaking, caffeinated hands, they begin pouring in a generous helping of a Piltover energy drink.

Viktor hears the can pop.

He says your name warningly. "You better not be making that culinary monstrosity again."

Instead of responding, they knock back the whole mug in desperate gulps, ignoring the rancid taste and shivering from the mix of burning liquid with the pop of hundreds of tiny bubbles.

The mug gets slammed loudly back on the counter. Viktor sighs heavily and pushes his wheelie chair towards Jayce's desk.

He wakes him up, with a prod of his cane into his side.

"I'm about to have a breakthrough." He explains quickly motioning to his desk. Blary eyed and clearly not fully awake yet, Jayce nods along. Viktor points dramatically to Jayce and then in the direction of the kitchen. "You're on assistant duty for the next half an hour."

The tiredness leeches out of Jayce's face. "They didn't-"

"They did."

"But they've already got caffeine shakes!"

"Tell that to the sound of the kettle bubbling away and the pop of a can lid. It has already happened Jayce. All we can do now it keep the damage to a minimum."

On silent feet, Reader's shadow appears on the other side of the desk. Both men jump. The light overhead casts their face into shadows and somehow makes their eyes glow. It is a terrifying sight.

Viktor recovers first. "We need to put a bell on you!"

"Kinky. Now, whatdoyouwantmetodrawnext?!" Their assistant rushes out in a single breath.

And both scientists pale. It was already beginning then.

The next four hours consists of Jayce struggling to keep his eyes open whilst Reader pokes fun at him and offers up their 'creation', Jayce firmly declining and trying to get on with his work, whilst Viktor keeps to himself and snorts periodically at the banter.

Reader draws and draws and then rubs out, before diligently getting back to drawing again. There is a frenzy to their marks. A wildness to their eyes. The scratch and scritch of their pen, getting lost amongst the sound of cogs turning and screws tightening and Jayce's yawning. So much so that when it suddenly ceases, neither of the scientists notice at first.

Not until Viktor asks for a warm tea, only for the previously eager assistant not to respond. He lets out a fond sigh, Jayce straightening up from his own work.

Reader is passed out on their sketchbook, having FINALLY crashed.

Viktor gets up to make his own tea.

Jayce shrugs off his jacket, and puts it over their shoulders as a makeshift blanket. The man has such broad shoulders that it practically swallows the assistant from sight, but they do not stir.

"That'll give them an awful neck ache tomorrow." Viktor observes aloud.

Jayce snorts. "Maybe it'll be enough of a punishment to stop them making that foul concoction."

"Unlikely."

Jayce just shakes his head and collapses back onto his desk and lays his head down on his arm. "Ten minutes." He mutters out before closing his eyes.

Viktor hums. And by the time he gets his tea back to the desk, his partner is out like a light, just as he had predicted.

"I CANNOT believe you're making me do this Jayce." Viktor exclaims sarcastically.

"Viktor. Please let me get that cog for you. Just this time. Please!"

"Oh no, no, do not get up on my account." Viktor firmly dismisses as he shimmies down his cane, one hand over the other all the whilst making exaggerated groaning noises.

Jayce is practically vibrating in place. "Please! It is literally all the way under that side board. Can I just slide it out for you? You can pick it up yourself."

"Oh no, do not strain yourself!" Viktor insists, sitting himself down on the floor, one hand holding his cane up as he shoves his other arm under the side board.

"VIKTOR!" Jayce all but whines, and takes a step forward.

"Ah!" Viktor immediately reprimands. "Y/n get the spray bottle!"

You've been watching the entire scene in amusement from your desk. Quietly giggling at Viktor's ribbing and Jayce's desperation to be useful. They make a rather amusing duo.

Jayce's eyes have jumped up to you. Frozen mid-step, eyes pleading.

You grin, pointedly reaching across the gap between yours and Viktor's desks to grab said spray bottle.

On the floor, Viktor makes a triumphant noise, before straightening up and brandishing the cog above his head. "Got it!" He exclaims, before slamming the blasted thing onto the side board. Then he tries to clamber back up his cane to his feet. He is unsuccessful as his leg decides not to co-operate this time.

He sighs. "Jayce." He says heavily, "as punishment for making me get down here in the first place-"

"What?! I've literally been-"

"As reprimand for your dastardly crimes. You are obligated to offer me one hand. But ONLY one, or your punishment shall evolve into death by spray bottle." Dramatically, he holds out his hand to his exasperated partner.

In support, you give the spray bottle a little squeeze in Jayce's direction, to which he shoots you a dark look. You merely grin back.

Then Jayce offers Viktor his hand, their fingers wrapping around the others wrist. "Slow." Viktor instructs, as he readjusts his legs into the right position. Jayce nods.

Then Jayce gently pulls Viktor up as Viktor balances between his feet and his cane.

"Thank you." He says, patting Jayce on the cheek, before promptly turning on his heel to retreat back to his desk.

They're so silly, I love them so much.

The next part

[bitchface24-7]

Masterlist

Created: 01/13/2025

Updated: 01/20/2025

🔞 - Smut, 👀 - Suggestive, ☁️- Fluff,

😢- Angst

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Jayvik x Reader

Thank God for Jayce Talis - 👀

Thank God for Jayce Talis PT 2 - ☁️

Smash - 👀

My Heros - ☁️

We Already Make Three - ☁️😢

Malicious Compliance - 🔞

The Realm's Delight - 👀

My Muses - ☁️

Forgive Me Father, For I Have Sinned - 🔞

Forgive Me Father, For I Have Sinned PT 2 - 🔞

Order Up! - 👀

The Harbinger of Chaos - 😢x2 ☁️

Green Eyed - 👀☁️

The One’s That Got Away - 😢☁️

Their Little Song Bird - ☁️

Beauty Is Subjective - ☁️😢👀

Showered in Love - ☁️

Black Cats and Their Golden Retriever - ☁️

We’re Here For You - ☁️

It’s Time to Choose - 😢

All Nighter - ☁️

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Viktor x Reader

The Seductive Professor Viktor - 👀🔞

The Seductive Professor Viktor PT 2 - 👀🔞

Coyote Ugly - 🔞

This Sucks… - ☁️

Psst Psst Psst - 😢☁️

Beautiful Boy - ☁️ (PLATONIC! You’re his bio mum in this, but there’s Jayvik. I had no idea where to put this 😭)

Are You Sure About That? - 🔞

Succubus - 👀

Succubus PT2 - 🔞

4AM Uncertainty - 😢☁️

He's a What?! - 👀

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Jayce x Reader

The Gorgeous Professor Talis - 👀🔞

I Like the Beard... - 👀😢

I'm Right Here, See? - ☁️😢

This Sucks… - ☁️

Sugar & Spice - 🔞

I Am Yours (You Are Mine) - 👀

Daddy’s Home - ☁️🔞

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Caitlyn x Reader

The Lovely Rebound - 😢☁️🔞

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Silco x Reader

Your Dad’s Kinda Hot… - 👀

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Skyvik x Reader

I've Got Two Hands For A Reason - 😢🔞

He’s a Man, Use it Against Him - 🔞

[thefandomsfervent]

Viktor x Reader Personal Pigments (Part 10)- Quinacridone Rose

Okay so the people of Ao3 have spoken. This is now a JayVik (and eventually Mel) x reader fic. Still a slow burn so bear with me. Find my imagine that inspired it here. Previous and next chapter will be linked at the bottom. Thank you for reading <3

╔═*✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧-✦-✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧*═╗

You had scooted your chair closer when he had beckoned you forward. Almost unknowingly it seems. Why else would your knees rest between his. His long legs have to stretch to make room for you. Viktor’s trying to focus on what Jayce is saying. Your hands are softer than he thought they would be. “Had he thought about that?” Calluses on the inside of both your middle fingers, from holding brushes and pencils he assumes. He had finished cleaning your knuckles a few minutes ago but your hands stayed in his lap, palms down. Warming his knees. He’s been fiddling with a bandage while Jayce goes over the presentation. 

He looks at his friend as his nails flick at the wrapper. Jayce has one hand on your shoulder. It had started rubbing soothing circles when you had winced at the cleaning of the right index. His other hand was holding a paper. Viktor hears Jayce going over the notes with you. With both of you technically. 

“Right Viktor?” Jayce is looking at him expectantly, you are too.

“Uh, yes.” The bandage finally opens. “Right.” He’s lifting up your left hand to wrap it around your index. You turn your hand over without him asking so he can seal the edges. He pretends like it does not take longer than it should, that there isn’t some small part of him that lingers knowing he only has seven more fingers to do. 

 “Jayce does most of the talking. But we will both present to Heimerdinger.”

“As Partners.” Jayce adds. Usually he would squeeze Viktor’s shoulder at that. Given that his hand is on yours, he does it to you instead. You look up at Viktor and then Jayce in response. Smiling tenderly. Like you admired both of them.

“You guys are so sweet together.” Oh. Oh no. He makes a face at that. So does Jayce. Neither of them in disdain, but in shock. It’s Jayce who asks for clarification, pulling his hand from your shoulder.

“Together?” He watches your eyes widen in surprise. Then twinkle with playfulness. Realization.

“Yes, together. Partners who are together all the time. Everyday. Alone. In a lab. For hours and hours on end.” You’re drawing out the words on purpose, a smile twinging all your words sweet. Viktor is pressing a second bandage on your middle finger. He wants to pinch the knuckle as he smoothes the bandage out, repeating the process from the first digit. But your hand is so loose in his. Like you trust him fully. So he doesn’t. What he does do, however, is knock one of your feet with his good leg. You laugh again. “So not together?” 

Had he and Jayce shared a few moments too tender to necessarily call platonic? Maybe. Did either of them really have the time or patience to identify whatever it was? Well it was mostly Viktor for the patience part, but the answer to both is no. Jayce is looking at him, mouth slightly ajar like he’s still confused about your joking. Cheeks burning. They had talked about it once or twice before. Never delving too deep into the conversation. They had affection for each other, yes. A closeness that could be attributed to friendship outside of the lab. But you had been inside of the lab. You had seen many soft and sweet moments. Even joined in on a few that, again, could have been read as simple kindness. It makes Viktor’s cheeks heat too, in realization and in question. He doesn’t want to answer your question or his own. He looks to Jayce again, raising a brow. 

“Not together?” Jayce gives the answer slowly, like he’s not sure of it. Like he doesn’t like it. 

“But not, not together?” Now you seem genuinely curious. And that is somehow worse than your teasing. Jayce is thinking. He knows that whatever he says, Viktor would likely agree with. His crush on Mel was well known between the three of you. Even he knew that. He also can’t imagine a day without Viktor. Although he has spent his nights with other people, students or bar goers, Viktor knows that about him. He and Viktor hadn’t shared a bed past a joint nap. They hadn’t kissed. But they’ve hugged, soothed hands, flirted. 

“Not, not together.” The words repeating. That’s his answer for now. It’s safe, non-committal. One day they may have the time to talk about it if they need to. Viktor hums, not seeming upset with the conclusion. If anything, agreeing with it. He starts wrapping the fourth and final finger of your left hand, neither of your thumbs had been hurt, so he pinches one. You look at him when he does. An apology behind your eyes, but also a smile. 

“Good to know. When the time comes I can include that however you’d like in the painting.” No judgement in your voice. Just more simple observation. Happy to be a part of the conversation. Jayce murmurs a quiet unsure thanks and fiddles with his paper. You can sense his growing discomfort and try to change topics. “So when does Heimerdinger want you guys to present?” A relieved breath. Jayce is putting a hand back on your shoulder at that and continues on about their notes. He even asks you to hand him a paper with your bandaged hand. You oblige, leaning into your chair and looking up at him. 

The column of your throat exposed to Viktor. Again, with these vulnerabilities you kept showing. Intimacies after intimacies. Especially after delving into theirs. It irks him. Your trust. Your curiosity. And it doesn’t. Confusion roiling in the back of his head. He’s lifting your right hand now. Perhaps all of these feelings were just the signs of what he and Jayce had. A peculiar close friendship? No, that wasn’t right. That is not what he would call himself and Jayce. But they were partners, in the lab admittedly, but partners. You were an uncalculated addition. A variable he had not identified or accounted for. When he meets Jayce’s eyes there’s a look he is given. Not a fire, but an ember dancing in hazel eyes. Not anger, not passion, just pleasant small joy. As if Jayce didn’t need all the answers, he just needed things to be okay. And they were.

Viktor looks away to grab at another bandage. His lips upturned in an almost smile. He’s turning his attention back to your fingers. You were so pliant in his hands. Fully relaxed and limp. He could play with your fingers and you’d likely not bat an eye. His own twitch at the thought. “What am I entertaining?” He lets out a slow quiet breath. Now is not the time to be thinking about this, not in front of both of you. There was no time. Yet he fixes up the rest of your fingers, and when he’s done he doesn’t move away from the hold he has on your right hand. You’re still looking at Jayce speak when he asks you to hand him another paper. You look down at the table, leaning forward to grab it when your eyes meet Viktor’s. 

Gently squeezing on his hand in acknowledgement. “Thanks for the patch-up.” You’re so soft. Your skin, your words, your actions. A second thanks you have given him. One that this time, he allows the effort of cataloging the timbre of your voice to take up space within him. You move to stand, pushing the chair back just enough for you to move out from between his knees. He pulls his legs back. Allowing your escape. This time it is Jayce knocking his knees, sitting in your abandoned chair. 

They watch as you brace yourself towards the finished canvas, listening to your satisfied huff once you’ve lifted it up. You brace it against a wall and grab a wide brush that is densely packed with off-white bristles. Your back is to them when you dip it into the light purple gesso, voice bouncing off the wall in front of you when you say, “Keep talking, I’ll listen.” The instrumental that plays in the background continues. Joined by Jayce and Viktor’s musings and the scratch of your brush on canvas. 

╚═*✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧-✦-✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧*═╝

---------------.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ Part 9-.-Part 11.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .---------------

------------‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙· Master Fic List *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊--------------

[animeshotsh]

♡Family Series Masterlist ♡

{ Works that are platonic and focus in family relationships. These are SFW / Soft }

JJK

Yuuji and Choso with a OP lil sis Reader HCS

Hazbin Hotel / Helluva Boss

💕 -> share the same universe | 💕💜 -> AU of that universe | Different emoji different universe/different storyline |

Dad!Lucifer x Kid!Reader 💕

Dad!Luci HCS 💕

Various x Kid!Reader💕

Dad!Luci x Kid!Reader x Uncle!Alastor💕

Not the baby! - Various x Kid!Reader💕

I would know | Husk x Child!Reader 🌸

Doggie!! Various x Kid!Reader 💕

The day I got a new uncle! Vox x Kid!Reader💕 Hcs of this part 💕

Baby Baby ~ Original Sins x Kid!Reader 💕

Sleep Walking HCS 💕

Alternative ending + events:

Not in time - Various x Kid!Reader 💕💜

Life in Heaven - Various x Kid!Reader 💕💜

Forget me not? - Various x Kid!Reader 💕💜

Asks:

How Lucifer reacts to you getting hurt💕

Kid!Reader asking about Lilith 💕

Arcane | Same emoji, same universe |

💙 -> VikJayce | 💙💜 -> VikJayce AU

| 💥 -> Jinx |

You what?Viktor x Jayce x Kid!Reader 💙

Parenting Viktor x Jayce x Kid!Reader💙

Housing VikJayce x Kid!Reader 💙

AU | 💙💜

JayVik x Kid!Reader 💙💜

Moms | Jinx x Fem!Reader 💥

[wavesofyears]

Arcane Fanfiction Requests

AO3 ☆彡

One Shots Are Currently : Open!!!

Ficlets Are Currently: Open!!!

Headcanons Are Currently: Open!!!

‧₊˚𖦹 ࣪.𓋼𓍊𖤣𖥧‪𖡼‬𖥧𖤣𓍊𓋼. ࣪𖦹˚₊‧

Guidelines

• Include at least the pairings/characters you would like to see as well as a prompt

• Any level of detail is allowed, though the more specific the more likely I am to choose your request

• I have the right to refuse any requests

• Do not expect an immediate response or upload

• Generally sticking to One Shots, Headcanons and Ficlets but may do longer works if I especially like your request

• Fics will exclusively be posted to AO3, but I will link them on my page

• Headcanons will be posted here on my Tumblr

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Wills

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢

• Canon Character x F!Reader

• Canon Character x M!Reader

• Canon Character x GN!Reader

• Canon Character x Canon Character

• Romantic, platonic, or familial pairings/groupings

• Crack

• Very light NSFW

• Angst

• Comfort

• Fluff

• Dark/serious subject matter (this will be case by case)

• AUs

• Headcanons

• Polyamorous pairings (including or excluding x reader)

• Honestly, I am open to most requests!

⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Wonts

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢

• Smut

• Adult x Minor ships/pairings

• Incestuous pairings (emotional, or otherwise)

• Non-con

• Romanticization or fetishization of abuse

⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Characters & Pairings I’m Most Likely To Accept

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢

• Jayvik x Reader

• Jayvik

• Timebomb (Ekko x Jinx)

• Silco x Reader

• Vander x Reader

• Zaundads (Silco x Vander)

• Zaundads x Reader

• Steb x Reader

• Isha & Jinx

• Silco & Jinx

• Timebomb & Isha

• Sevika & Jinx

• Sevika & Jinx & Isha

• But feel free to request any not listed here!

⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣

‧₊˚𖦹 ࣪.𓋼𓍊𖤣𖥧‪𖡼‬𖥧𖤣𓍊𓋼. ࣪𖦹˚₊‧

Thank you ~ !

(≧∀≦)oᯓᡣ𐭩

[scribbly-artist]

Masterlist

Hello! Here is a little masterlist as I was starting to lose track of what I have written. You can also use the #my writing/#my fanfic tag (and #lunchtime reblog if you want to see what I’m eating, lmao) to find everything I’ve written on this account. :) Every fic is listed with its word count as well as an AO3 link for your reading preferences.

FANFICTION LIST

Arcane

Calling it a Night Part 1 (lee!Viktor x ler!Reader) You and Viktor have been working late at the lab. But you’re concerned for his health after all these late nighters. You’ll pull him away from his work desk by any means necessary.

Calling it a Night Part 2 (lee!Reader x ler!Viktor) You’ve dragged Viktor back to your shared apartment after a long night at the lab. It’s time to unwind with some nice, warm tea on the couch. But, Viktor swore he would get you back from your exchange at the lab. So, he’s feeling a little bit playful.

Too Hard on Yourself (Platonic lee!Reader and ler!Jayce Talis) You’re working on an assigned project at Piltover Academy, and while most of the time you pick up new things quickly, this time, you haven’t. You’re frustrated with yourself, crying at your workbench. However, you old friend Jayce Talis is here to make you feel better.

Persuasion (JayVik, lee!Viktor, ler!Jayce) It’s always a battle to drag each other away from the lab, even when they were both on the brink of exhaustion. Viktor was being stubborn this time, however, Jayce has a trick up his sleeve that will persuade him.

Gently, Please (JayVik, lee!Jayce, ler!Viktor) Jayce is at a breaking point now that he’s on the council, he wasn’t expecting all of this responsibility put onto him. He goes to the place (and the person) that puts him most at ease.

Lesson Learned (lee!Reader, ler!Silco, ler!Vander) You’ve known Silco and Vander for a long time, you all go way back. They also know you’re a little shit - on purpose. Trouble makes it way back to you.

A Night to Remember (JayVik, lee!Viktor, ler!Jayce) Jayce finally convinced Viktor to attend a councillor party, and to ease himself, Viktor had one too many fun drinks. Jayce hauled his partner back home safely and shenanigans ensued as Jayce tries to get Viktor ready for bed.

Paint War (Timebomb, lee!Jinx, ler!Ekko) After talking Jinx down so they both didn’t get blown up, Ekko assists Jinx in getting everything ready to help in the big fight. They can’t crash the party looking all cool without some sick paint designs on their outfits though!

Scare the Nightmares Away (lee!Isha, ler!Jinx) Isha has woken up from a scary nightmare and runs to Jinx for comfort. To help Isha calm down, Jinx remembers a story and a tactic Vi used to use when she was Isha’s age.

Golden Opportunity (JayVik, lee!Jayce, ler!Viktor) Jayce and Viktor are building a new Hextech machine. Unfortunately for Jayce, his shirt gets snagged when he attempts to slide out from underneath it. Viktor sees an opportunity to be a menace.

Someone To Take Care Of (lee!Reader, ler!Jayce) You’ve had awful back pain all day at work, and nothing you tried could remedy it. You’ve come home late on top of it. You’ve come home to your partner, Jayce, who wants to help melt your pain away.

Helluva Boss

Making Things Right (Stolitz, lee!Stolas x ler!Blitz) Two weeks after the trial, Stolas is still in Blitz’ home, wasting away. Blitz feels shitty and undeserving for what Stolas sacrificed for him. The least he could do is try to make Stolas feel a little bit better.

Crush Crush/Blush Blush/Hush Hush (Sad Panda Studios)

In Love with All of You (lee!Reader x ler!Eli Kawase) Eli Kawase has opened up to you and told you that he’s a different Eli everyday. You’re fine with that, but are you fine with the way that you present yourself? The thoughts rear their head on your third date, you get a little bit upset, but Eli is there to help.

Early to Rise (lee!Reader x ler!Haru) Haru is usually the one to cook Sunday breakfast for both of you, but on this morning he was still sound asleep in bed. Halfway through cooking however, Haru sneaks up from behind to admire your work. He also wants to mess with you just a little bit.

Persona Series

Dorm Antics (Persona 3, lee!Junpei and ler!Yukari) When Yukari comes back to the dorm, she notices the shopping bag she dropped off earlier near the front door missing. Junpei was the only one here, so he must have hidden it just to mess with her. Yukari will find out where he hid it, even if she has to force an answer out of him.

Steins;Gate

Noisy Times in the Lab (lee!Makise Kurisu and ler!Okabe Rintaro feat. Shiina Mayuri) Mayuri has made a scientific discovery about Kurisu that piques the interest of the resident mad scientist.

The Amazing Digital Circus

Are You Smiling? (lee!Pomni, ler!Jax) Jax doesn’t want to talk about what happened at his employee evaluation… but at least he can make sure Pomni doesn’t suffer the same fate. Kind of.

Original Characters/OCs

So You Can Laugh Nathan and Kathleen have been together for quite a while now, but Nathan has never seen Kathleen let loose and laugh, let alone smile often. He wants to see his love smile, so he wants to achieve this in any way he can.

Lazy Sunday Kathleen giving Nathan a nice scalp massage on the couch leads her to finding something adorable about her boyfriend.

HEADCANON LIST

Arcane

Jayvik Tickle Headcanons

Vander and Silco Tickle Headcanons

A Few Arcane Tickle Headcanons (mixed characters)

Jinx Tickle Headcanons

Sevika Tickle Headcanons

Fullmetal Alchemist (Brotherhood)

Edward Elric Tickle Headcanons

Persona 5

Yusuke Kitagawa Tickle Headcanons

[thesuntoanicarus]

Introducing myself because I’ve already been misgendered twice and cause it’s fun and tells people what to call me if they stumble upon this blog that holds my random thoughts

General Info

(Preferred are in green)

Name(s): Icarus, Ukiyo, Aiko, Quill, Qiu

Nickname(s): Ai, Ko,Q,Ez, Uki and anything else you come up with

Pronouns: They/Them, It/It’s, I’m fine with he/him and any Neo pronouns as well

Sexuality: Aromantic Asexual (Bots please leave me alone)

Gender: Agender

Extra: I have Autism, ADHD and Anxiety pls don’t mind if I don’t understand something and try to use tonetags where you can

Fandom Info

(Main Main ones are in blue)

Fandoms I’m in (there are a lot so I’m only putting my main ones):

Games - Genshin Impact, Honkai Star rail, Disney Twisted wonderland and more

Anime/Manga - Bungo Stray Dogs, Jujutsu Kaisen, One Piece, Erased and more

Novels/other - Scum Villains Self saving system (Svsss), Grandmaster of demonic cultivation (MDZS), Remarried Empress, Villains are destined to die, Omniscient Readers Viewpoint (ORV), Trash/Lout of the counts family (TOTCF) and more

Shipping Info: I am a Multishipper and don’t engage in ship wars and don’t tolerate toxic shippers here’s a list of the ships I’ll mostly post/repost about

- SatoSugu (Satoru Gojo x Suguru Geto from JJK)

- JoongDok (Kim Dokja x Yoo Joonghyuk from ORV)

-YooHanKim (Yoo Joonghyuk x Han Sooyoung x Kim Dokja from ORV) (Both romantic and Platonic)

- RanPoe (Ranpo Edogawa x Edgar Allen Poe from BSD)

- Wriolette (Neuvillette x Wriothesley from Genshin Impact)

-Moshang (Mobei Jun x Shang Qinghua from Svsss)

-Poolverine (Deadpool x Wolverine [from the new movie])

-Jayvik (Jayce Talis x Viktor from Arcane)

Extra Info

I have like 10 Mental and Physical Illnesses/Disorders combined so like if you ever see me stop posting for months on end just assume something happened, I’m just a perpetually tired Burned out gifted kid and yeah. I post fics on Ao3 but am definitely not consistent in posting or writing in that matter. Anyways bye thanks for reading.

[aspenmissing]

ᴀʀᴄᴀɴᴇ: ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴄʏ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ-ɪꜱʜ

6419 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɪɴꜰᴇʀᴛɪʟɪᴛʏ (ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ'ꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ). ꜱᴛʀᴜɢɢʟᴇ ᴏꜰ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴛ (ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ'ꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴛʜᴇ ɪᴅᴇᴀ ᴏꜰ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ ʜᴀꜱ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ꜱᴛᴏᴘ, ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ɪᴅᴇᴀ ᴄᴏᴍᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ.

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ/ᴊɪɴx

JAYCE

It had been a week or two since Y/N first realized she was pregnant. The realization had come as a shock, and though she'd kept it a secret, she had no idea how to tell Jayce. He had been busy with his work, his duties at the academy, and everything in Piltover that required his attention. She had just been trying to find the right moment, but it was harder than she'd anticipated. The news was life-changing, and she didn't want to burden him, even though she knew deep down that he would support her no matter what.

That morning, Y/N had run errands while Jayce stayed at home, catching up on his own work. As always, he had a few things to tidy up around the house — a rare moment where he was actually in their shared space, instead of off in his lab or at the academy. While sorting through some boxes under the bed that hadn't been touched in ages, Jayce kicked one of them over in an attempt to make space. It was one of those old cardboard boxes that Y/N had shoved there on a particularly busy day, not realizing what it contained.

Curious, Jayce pulled the box out from under the bed, his brow furrowing in confusion as he cracked it open. Inside, amidst old papers and forgotten mementos, were the unmistakable signs of something he hadn't expected — a pregnancy test, along with a paper that confirmed the news. Jayce's breath hitched as he stared at the test, eyes scanning the familiar words that he hadn't yet fully processed. The letter was clear, a confirmation that Y/N was indeed pregnant.

His heart raced, and for a long moment, he was paralyzed by the enormity of the situation. How long had she known? Why hadn't she told him? He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for not noticing, for not being more aware of what was happening. He had always considered himself a protector, a supporter, but now he felt as though he was falling short.

As he sat there holding the pregnancy test in his hand, he heard the sound of the door opening downstairs. Y/N’s voice floated up the stairs, and Jayce quickly placed the test back in the box, not wanting to overwhelm her.

Y/N walked in, her usual warm smile fading a little when she saw the tense look on his face. “Jayce?” she asked, her tone uncertain as she approached the bedroom door.

He was sitting on the bed, the box still resting beside him. “Y/N,” he began, his voice soft but full of emotion. “We need to talk.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. She had no idea what was going on, but she could feel the weight in his words. She closed the door behind her, stepping into the room, her eyes glancing at the box on the bed. “What’s going on?” she asked, her voice a little shakier than usual.

Jayce took a deep breath, looking up at her. The look in his eyes was a mixture of love, concern, and something else — something unspoken. He gestured to the box. “I found this... while I was cleaning.”

Y/N’s face turned pale as her gaze followed his hand to the box, and she instinctively felt her stomach churn. She knew what was coming. She hadn't expected him to find out like this.

She swallowed hard, gathering the courage to speak. “Jayce, I... I wanted to tell you,” she began, stepping closer, “but I wasn’t sure how. I didn’t know if it was the right time, and—”

“Y/N…” Jayce interrupted softly, his voice trembling slightly. He stood up and took a step toward her, gently placing his hands on her arms. “You’re pregnant.”

Y/N’s lips trembled as she nodded, feeling a lump rise in her throat. “Yes,” she whispered, her eyes filled with both fear and hope. “I found out a couple of weeks ago. But I didn’t know how to tell you.”

Jayce stared at her for a moment, the reality of it all sinking in. Then, without warning, he pulled her into a tight embrace. His arms wrapped around her like a protective shield, and he kissed the top of her head gently. “I’m sorry I didn’t know sooner. I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “But you don’t have to worry, Y/N. We’re in this together.”

Y/N blinked back tears, her arms wrapping around him in return. She had been so afraid that he wouldn’t be happy, that he wouldn’t understand. But his response was more than she had hoped for.

“I’ve just been... so scared,” she admitted, her voice muffled against his chest. “I didn’t want to burden you. You’ve already got so much going on with everything in Piltover. And I didn’t know if I was ready for this... for a baby.”

Jayce pulled back slightly to look at her, his hands gently cupping her face. His eyes were filled with nothing but reassurance and love. “We’ll figure it out, Y/N. Together. There’s no perfect time for this, but I know one thing — I want to be here for you, and for our baby. And we’ll make this work.”

Y/N couldn’t help but let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. Her heart was lighter now, the weight of her fears melting away in the warmth of his embrace.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

Jayce smiled down at her, his hands still gently holding her face. “You never have to thank me for this, Y/N. We’re in this together — all three of us.”

And in that moment, as the two of them stood together, embracing the new chapter in their lives, Jayce knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them as a family.

VIKTOR

It had been a few months since Viktor and Y/N had that heart-to-heart conversation. It was one of those difficult talks, where emotions were laid bare, raw, and vulnerable. Viktor, ever the stoic, had admitted his deepest fears—his illness, the mutations, and the possibility of passing it on to any future children. Y/N had been hurt at first, but understanding. She supported him fully, respecting his concerns, even though a small part of her longed for the family they could have had together. She never pushed him, knowing how deeply his fears ran.

But Viktor could see how much it pained her. He noticed the quiet longing in her eyes, the way she would sometimes linger on children in the streets of Piltover when they passed by. It tore at him, but he couldn’t shake the dread of what his illness could mean for their future. It was one of those battles inside him that he couldn't win, no matter how hard he tried.

Today, however, Viktor decided to take a short walk. It wasn’t about escaping the conversation—it was more to clear his head. The streets of Piltover were bustling with the usual activity, the gleaming buildings towering above him as the cool air filled his lungs. He walked with a slight limp, the click of his cane echoing in the otherwise busy street, but it was nothing Viktor wasn’t used to. The cane was a constant companion, the reminder of both his strength and his vulnerability.

As he passed a park, he spotted a young boy struggling to tie his shoe laces. The child was hunched over, a prosthetic limb attached to his left leg. The boy’s hands were shaking slightly as he fumbled with the laces, frustration evident on his face. Viktor slowed his pace, watching from a distance. He expected someone to approach the boy, maybe offer some help. But no one did. The people walking past just ignored the boy, too focused on their own lives to stop and lend a hand.

Viktor hesitated, his heart tightening at the sight. He knew all too well what it felt like to be overlooked, to be seen as different or fragile. But there was something in the way the boy carried himself—something in his attitude—that caught Viktor off guard. The boy was struggling, yes, but he wasn’t defeated. His face was determined as he attempted again to tie his laces, gritting his teeth but never backing down. Viktor waited, thinking that maybe the boy’s perseverance would inspire someone else to step forward. But when no one did, Viktor sighed and made his way over.

“Need some help?” Viktor asked softly, his voice gentle, yet there was a certain steadiness in it.

The boy looked up at him, startled but not fearful. His eyes scanned Viktor’s cane before meeting his face. “I got it,” the boy replied confidently, his lips curling into a small grin. “I just need to focus. It’s not so hard, you know?”

Viktor tilted his head, surprised by the boy’s confidence. “No one should have to do everything alone,” Viktor said, taking a step closer. “Sometimes, we all need a little help.”

The boy paused, then nodded, his hands still trembling a little as he finished tying his shoes. “Yeah,” he said, his eyes meeting Viktor’s again. “But it’s not about letting it stop you, right? It’s a hurdle. A hard one, but not impossible.”

Viktor’s heart fluttered at the boy’s words. There was something about the way he viewed his disability—not as a burden, but simply another challenge to overcome—that struck Viktor deep. It was a perspective Viktor hadn’t considered in a long time. For so long, Viktor had feared passing on his illness, his disability, to a child of his own. He had worried that they would see it as something to be pitied, something to be feared. But this boy—this child—had a strength that Viktor hadn’t realized children could have.

“I think you’re right,” Viktor said quietly. “A hurdle is just something to jump over.” He smiled gently at the boy, feeling a shift inside him, a sense of peace that he hadn’t expected.

The boy beamed up at him, clearly proud of his accomplishment. “Exactly! You just have to keep trying, even if it takes a few tries.”

Viktor chuckled softly, his mind racing. For the first time in months, the dread he had carried about his own illness, and what it might mean for a child, started to fade. He realized that with Y/N’s love, with his own understanding and strength, their child could grow up just like this boy—confident, determined, and ready to face whatever life threw their way.

The realization struck him like a wave, and Viktor suddenly felt lighter than he had in a long time. Maybe having a child wasn’t about protecting them from every hardship; maybe it was about teaching them how to face those challenges with grace and strength.

He turned, making his way back home, the cane tapping steadily against the cobblestones as he thought about the future. His steps felt more purposeful now.

When Viktor arrived home, Y/N was sitting on the couch, flipping through a book. She looked up at him with a smile, her warmth filling the room. “Hey, you’re back early,” she said, setting the book down and patting the space next to her on the couch.

Viktor stood still for a moment, staring at the floor, his hand resting on his cane. “Y/N,” he began, his voice steady but softer than usual. “I’ve been thinking a lot about our conversation from before. About… the future.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, the same knot of worry tightening in her chest. “Viktor, you don’t have to—”

Viktor cut her off, holding up a hand. “I’m ready to try, Lásko. I’m ready to start a family with you.” (Love)

Y/N blinked, her breath catching in her throat. Her mind spun, processing his words. She wasn’t sure if she’d heard him correctly. “You… you mean it?” Her voice was trembling, full of disbelief and hope.

Viktor’s gaze softened, and he took a slow step toward her. “I’ve seen something today. A boy with the same struggles as me, but he didn’t see it as a burden. He saw it as just another hurdle to overcome. And I realized… our child won’t see it as a curse. With our love, they’ll know how to overcome whatever life gives them. I believe in us."

Tears welled in Y/N’s eyes as she stood up quickly, her breath hitching in her throat. She rushed toward him, wrapping her arms tightly around his chest. “Oh, Viktor,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Viktor gently placed his cane aside, his arms wrapping around her in return, holding her close. He could feel the weight of the moment, the weight of their decision, and for the first time in a long while, Viktor felt something he hadn’t expected: hope.

Together, they would face the future—one step at a time, just like the boy had shown him.

JAYVIK

The topic of motherhood had always been a sensitive one for Y/N. She had come to terms with her infertility a long time ago, but that didn’t make it any easier to talk about. She hadn’t discussed it much with Jayce or Viktor; it was a topic that hung between them, unspoken, but understood. It wasn’t that she didn’t want children—it was more that she had accepted that being a mother wasn’t in her future. And though she had come to terms with it privately, it didn’t mean the idea of motherhood didn’t tug at her heart from time to time.

Jayce and Viktor knew about her infertility. They had been with her through the difficult conversations, through the quiet moments when she wrestled with her feelings. Both of them had been understanding, supportive, and kind, but Y/N couldn’t help but feel the emptiness at times, especially when the idea of raising a child came up. She had always dreamt of motherhood, of nurturing a little one, but the reality was different. Still, she cherished the love and connection she had with Jayce and Viktor, and that was enough—for now.

One crisp afternoon in Piltover, Y/N found herself walking through the busy streets of the Upper City, a faint breeze carrying the scent of fresh bread and the hum of city life. The grandeur of Piltover was on full display—high towers, merchants selling their wares, and children playing in the streets—but amidst it all, something caught her eye.

Two children, a boy around twelve and a girl of about seven, were weaving through the crowd with startling agility. The younger girl, bubbly and chatty, kept the attention of an unsuspecting shopper while the older boy, quick as a flash, swiped a few coins from the merchant’s stall. Y/N watched, intrigued, as the boy casually stashed the pilfered goods in his coat and slipped away, with the little girl trailing behind him, never once looking guilty.

Y/N’s lips quirked into a smile, admiring their street-smart energy. They moved with the kind of confidence that could only come from years of surviving the rougher edges of the world. It was clear they were looking out for each other, and despite what they were doing, there was something endearing about their partnership. The older boy’s protective nature over the younger girl, his quick thinking, and her carefree chatter—they made quite the team.

She decided to follow them from a distance, curious to see where they were headed. After a few turns and alleyways, they eventually reached a small abandoned building, a makeshift hideout. Y/N hesitated, watching them settle in, clearly alone—no parents, no guardians, just the two of them.

The boy caught her gaze as she stood at a distance. He narrowed his eyes, clearly cautious but not immediately hostile.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice gruff, but his stance more defensive than angry.

Y/N took a few steps closer, raising her hands in a peaceful gesture. “I just wanted to see how you two were doing. I noticed your, uh, skills in the marketplace.”

The girl, who had been picking at something in her hand, looked up with wide eyes and shyly glanced at Y/N. She fidgeted with the edge of her sleeve before speaking in a soft, hesitant voice. “We’re just trying to get by,” she murmured, clearly a little nervous about the encounter, but still unbothered by their situation.

The boy shot her a quick glance, before looking back at Y/N. “We don’t need any help. We’re fine.”

Y/N smiled softly, kneeling to their level. “I’m not here to force anything. I’m just offering food."

The two children exchanged a glance, and after a few moments of hesitation, the boy finally nodded. “Food’s always good.”

Without another word, Y/N reached into her bag and pulled out a couple of loaves of bread, some fruit, and a few slices of cheese. The children devoured the food quickly, barely speaking between bites. It was clear they were used to going without, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy.

Over the next few weeks, Y/N found herself coming back to the children regularly. She would bring them food, warm clothes, and the occasional book. Gradually, their wariness of her faded, though they never fully let their guard down. They had learned to survive on their own, and trust wasn’t something they gave easily. But over time, Y/N became more than just a stranger—she became a quiet presence in their lives, offering what little comfort she could.

Y/N knew Piltover was a city of opportunity, but it wasn’t always kind to the ones who didn’t have a place to fit in. The children reminded her of that—young, alone, and scraping by on whatever they could get.

One day, after a particularly long day in the markets, Y/N found herself thinking more about the two kids. There had to be a way to help them—Piltover had more to offer, and they deserved better than a life of pickpocketing and hiding out in abandoned buildings.

The next time she came to visit, she made a decision. She would take them back to her home, introduce them to Jayce and Viktor, and see if they could help these kids build something better for themselves.

When Y/N walked into the study later that afternoon, she was followed by the two children, who were a little more apprehensive than usual but still carrying themselves with a quiet sense of pride.

“Jayce, Viktor,” Y/N called out as she stepped inside, smiling warmly at the two men. “I’d like you to meet Mia,” she said, gesturing to the younger girl, “and Luka,” she nodded at the older boy. “They’ve been on their own for a while. I’ve been bringing them food and making sure they’re alright, but I think Piltover might be the place for them.”

Jayce and Viktor looked up from their work, both of them pausing as they sized up the two children. Viktor raised an eyebrow, his analytical gaze taking in the situation, while Jayce’s face softened with concern.

“They’ve been through a lot,” Jayce commented, his voice gentle.

Y/N nodded. “They’ve got a lot of potential. They just need a little guidance. I think, with some help, they could really thrive here.”

Viktor stood from his chair, walking toward the children. He regarded them for a moment before speaking. “You’ve been through more than most adults would care to face. But if you’re willing to learn, Piltover has room for you.”

Luka, who had been silently observing, finally spoke up. “And if we don’t want to?” he asked, his voice filled with defiance but not hostility.

Y/N crouched down to meet his eyes. “You’ll always have a choice. But I’m offering you a chance to build something better. Not for me, but for yourselves.”

Jayce offered his hand to Luka, who looked at it for a long moment before taking it, Mia following suit, though she was still a bit shy. Their hands were small, but their grip was firm, as if they were already beginning to understand the power of what they were being offered.

As Y/N stood back up, a sense of fulfillment washed over her. She had always wondered what motherhood might feel like, but now she understood—family wasn’t just about blood. It was about love, care, and making space for those who needed it most.

In that moment, with Jayce and Viktor by her side, she felt like they were building something together—something more than just a future for them, but for these children, too. And for the first time in a long while, she believed that family, in all its forms, was within reach.

VANDER

The past few months had been an emotional rollercoaster for Y/N and Vander. It was a topic that weighed heavily on both of them—one they had discussed openly and at length. The decision had been made to try for a child, but time and again, they found themselves coming up empty. The disappointment stung harder with each failed attempt, and each time, it seemed to take more from Y/N than she was willing to admit.

Vander, ever the strong and steady presence in their home, tried to offer comfort, his hand on her back or holding hers tightly in quiet moments, but even his unwavering support couldn't quell the sadness that began to weigh heavily on her heart. With each passing try, Y/N found herself retreating further into herself. She hated feeling this way, especially when there were so many children who needed love and care, but the dream of having their own kept lingering.

Vi and Claggor, of course, understood more than Y/N often gave them credit for. They had seen the way she had been quietly grieving, though she tried to hide it. It was clear that Y/N and Vander had wanted this, and though the children were young and maybe couldn’t fully comprehend the specifics, they could sense the tension.

Mylo, ever the oblivious one, simply couldn’t understand why Y/N seemed so upset. “Why’s she so sad, Vander?” Mylo asked one day, genuinely perplexed.

Vander paused for a moment, his heart aching as he looked down at his son. He knew Mylo wasn’t trying to be insensitive—he was just a child. "Sometimes, Mylo," he began softly, kneeling down to meet his son's eyes, "people want something that they can’t have, and it makes them sad."

"But she’s not sad because of us, is she?" Mylo asked, brows furrowed, still trying to wrap his head around it.

Vander smiled gently, his expression a mix of warmth and sadness. “No, son. Never because of you."

Meanwhile, Powder, ever the innocent and curious soul, had started to pick up on the shift in Y/N’s mood. She noticed how her mother figure’s smiles seemed more forced lately, how she spent more time staring out the window, looking distant. One afternoon, as Vander was sitting by the fire, Powder shuffled over to him, her small brow furrowed in concern.

“Vander,” she began, her voice small and unsure, “why is mama so sad all the time?”

Vander’s heart twisted at the question. He had been doing his best to shield the children from the weight of the situation, but Powder’s innocence had a way of cutting straight to the heart of things. He looked down at her, trying to find the right words.

“Well, Powder,” Vander started, his voice soft and steady, “sometimes people feel sad because they’re hoping for something, and it doesn’t happen the way they want it to.”

Powder tilted her head, trying to understand. “Is it because of us?” she asked, her voice tinged with worry. “Did we do something wrong?”

Vander quickly shook his head, his hand gently resting on her shoulder. “No, sweetheart. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just that sometimes, things take time. And sometimes, people just need a little while to feel better.”

Powder nodded slowly, not fully understanding but still trusting Vander’s words. She looked up at him, her big eyes filled with concern for the woman she loved so much. “Will she be okay?” she asked quietly.

Vander smiled gently, his heart aching for her innocence. “She’ll be okay, Powder. We’ll make sure of it.”

Powder stood there for a moment, her gaze lingering on the doorway where Y/N had been standing earlier. Then, as if an idea suddenly struck her, she reached up and hugged Vander tightly, her tiny arms wrapping around him with all the love she could give.

Vander held her close, feeling the weight of his own heart as he promised silently that he would do everything in his power to make sure Y/N found happiness again.

And then, the fifth time came.

Y/N had reached a place of quiet acceptance. After their last attempt, she and Vander had finally come to terms with what life had given them. They still had each other, and their love for the children they already cared for was enough to fill their hearts. They had made the choice to focus their love on the kids they had—Vi, Claggor, Mylo, and Powder—and make sure they had everything they needed. It was a quiet but powerful decision, one that gave them peace.

But life, as it often did, surprised them.

It was early one morning when Y/N felt the familiar nausea creeping up her throat. She dismissed it at first, thinking it was just another random bout of illness, but as the morning went on, it became harder to ignore. She ran to the bathroom, her heart pounding in her chest, and the moment she stood over the sink, she knew.

After taking the test, she sat on the edge of the tub, staring at the results in shock. It wasn’t just a glimmer of hope—it was real. The small blue line on the stick confirmed it. She was pregnant.

Her hands trembled as she stood up, the test still in her hand. She didn’t know how long she stood there, the weight of it sinking in, but eventually, she walked slowly to where Vander was, a mixture of disbelief and joy written all over her face.

"Vander," she called softly, her voice catching in her throat.

He turned from the window where he’d been looking out, the soft morning light playing across his face. He saw the look on her face and immediately felt a wave of concern rush through him. “Love? What is it?”

She didn’t say anything at first. Instead, she handed him the test, her eyes wide and hopeful.

Vander looked at it, his hands steady as he examined it, then slowly looked up at Y/N. His expression softened, a mixture of shock and something deeper in his gaze. “Are you... are you sure?”

Y/N smiled, a tear slipping down her cheek as she nodded. "Yes. I’m sure."

And in that moment, everything changed.

Vander crossed the room, his arms enveloping her in a tight embrace. “I’m so happy,” he whispered, his voice full of emotion. “We’re going to be parents again. I didn’t think it was ever going to happen...”

Y/N hugged him back, her chest tight with the overwhelming sense of joy and relief. “Neither did I,” she admitted, her voice thick with emotion. “But we’re going to be okay.”

Later that day, when the children came running into the room to greet their parents, they immediately sensed the change in the air. Vi looked at Y/N with a knowing expression, her arms open wide for a hug, while Claggor stood beside her, looking up curiously at Vander. Powder beamed, as if she somehow already knew what had happened.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Vi asked, her voice gentle. She could see the shift in her mother’s demeanour. Y/N just nodded, tears brimming in her eyes as she smiled.

“I’m more than okay, Vi,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "We’re going to have a baby."

Claggor’s eyes widened, and Mylo jumped up and down, excitedly. “A baby! That’s awesome!”

Vander looked down at Powder, who was staring up at him with wide eyes. She grinned, her excitement uncontainable. “Does this mean I’m going to have a little brother or sister?” she asked.

Y/N laughed softly, wiping away a tear. “Yes, Powder. You are.”

As Vander and Y/N exchanged a soft smile, surrounded by their children, a new chapter began for their family. One filled with hope, love, and the promise of a future that was theirs to shape. It wasn’t just the start of their journey into parenthood—it was the beginning of something even bigger. Something they had built together, with the love and strength of their family.

SILCO / JINX

The dimly lit office felt unusually still as you walked in, your footsteps echoing softly against the cold stone floor. The weight of the pregnancy test in your hand felt heavier with every step you took toward Silco’s desk. You placed it down gently in front of him, your fingers lingering on the edge as if unsure how to break the silence that stretched between you.

Silco was sitting in his usual spot, his gaze fixed on the papers before him. His sharp eyes flickered up at the sound of the test being placed on the desk, and for a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath. He didn’t need to ask what it was. His expression shifted, unreadable, as he slowly reached forward and picked it up, his fingers brushing against the plastic.

You stood still, your stomach tied in knots, watching him closely. Silco’s gaze was locked on the test, his lips pressed together as he processed the moment, his usual calm and control slipping into something else—a flicker of uncertainty that he quickly masked.

"Pregnant?" His voice was steady, though there was a sharpness beneath it, a controlled tension that spoke to the gravity of the situation.

You nodded, swallowing hard as you spoke, your voice quiet but firm. "Yes."

The silence stretched again, heavy, filled with the weight of his thoughts. He placed the test back on the desk, his eyes not leaving it as if trying to make sense of the new reality that had just been dropped before him.

"I wasn’t expecting this," he finally said, his voice still calm, though there was an undercurrent of something deeper. "This changes everything."

You could feel your pulse quicken as you shifted, unsure of what to say next. "I didn’t expect it either," you admitted softly, your gaze dropping to the floor. "I don’t know what to do, Silco. Can we even give them a life here in Zaun? Can I even give them a life with everything we’ve built?"

For a long moment, Silco remained silent, his eyes moving from the test to you. He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest, his posture thoughtful yet still unreadable.

"You know how I feel about children," he said, his tone quieter than usual. "They’re a vulnerability, a weakness. I never planned for this."

You hesitated, the uncertainty of your own feelings reflected in your voice. "I used to think I didn’t want children either," you confessed, your fingers nervously tracing the edge of the desk. "I thought it wasn’t in me. But... I think maybe it’s different now."

Silco studied you in silence, his gaze unwavering. His features softened slightly as he absorbed your words. "If this is something you want, if you think it’s right, then I won’t stand in your way. We’ll figure it out." He sighed deeply, his voice steady, though there was something almost compassionate in it that you rarely heard. "But we both know the risks. How easily everything could change."

You nodded, the weight of the decision pressing heavily on your chest. "I know. I just don’t know what it would look like... how it would change things between us."

His expression softened further, and he leaned forward, his eyes meeting yours with an understanding that made your heart skip a beat. "We don’t have to figure it all out now. Whatever you decide, I’m with you. We’ll face it together."

The words lingered in the air, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of certainty. The future, though uncertain, didn’t seem as daunting with him by your side.

The air between you and Silco was thick with unspoken words when a shuffle from the hallway broke the moment. A muffled voice, familiar and filled with unease, echoed through the room. Your heart sank as you realized Jinx had been listening outside. She knew something was off, and she was about to confront you both.

The door creaked open, and Jinx stepped inside, her usual manic energy subdued by the confusion in her eyes. Her gaze immediately flickered to the desk, where the pregnancy test lay, its presence now casting a heavy shadow over the room. The colour drained from her face as she processed what she was seeing, and her eyes flickered between you and Silco, realization quickly settling in.

"Y-You're pregnant?" she repeated, her voice small, barely above a whisper. Her gaze flickered to the test on the desk, and then back to you, her face contorting in an expression that was a mix of confusion, fear, and something deeper—hurt.

You opened your mouth to say something, but the words stuck in your throat. You knew what this meant for Jinx. She was no stranger to being pushed aside, forgotten, and replaced. Her unpredictable nature often led to misunderstandings, but the one thing you both shared was a bond, a strange and unspoken connection. The idea that she might think this would mean the end of that bond broke something inside you.

Jinx took a step back, her hands trembling as they fidgeted with the edges of her shirt. Her voice wavered, the insecurity leaking through her usual bravado. "I—I don’t... I don’t know what this means," she stammered, her eyes flickering between you and Silco, her words faltering. "You won’t need me anymore, right? I mean, you... You’ll have the baby now. You’ll have your family, and... I won’t matter anymore."

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, but she quickly blinked them away, a brittle smile forcing its way onto her lips. "It’s fine," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "I’ll just... I'll just go. It’s okay. I’ll stay out of the way. You don’t have to worry about me anymore."

A cold knot of guilt formed in your chest, and you moved toward her, reaching out to steady her. "Jinx, no. You’ll never be in the way. This—this has nothing to do with you being pushed aside." Your voice cracked slightly, but you fought to steady it. "I don’t want you to think you’re being replaced. You're not."

Jinx shook her head, her lips curling into a bitter smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "It’s always been that way, though, hasn’t it? People come, people go. You and Silco... you’ll have everything you need now. You don’t need someone like me. I’ll just mess things up." Her voice was barely above a whisper, as though she was trying to convince herself of the lie she was telling.

Silco, who had been watching the exchange with a mixture of concern and patience, leaned forward, his voice cutting through the heavy air. "Jinx," he said, his tone more measured than before, yet carrying an undeniable firmness. "You think we would let you slip away so easily? You think you can just vanish because of something like this?"

Jinx didn’t meet his gaze, her eyes fixed on the ground as if she were afraid to hear what he was about to say.

Silco’s voice softened slightly, though still strong, like a quiet force. "You’re part of this—our lives. You’re not going anywhere, Jinx. You’re not a burden, and you’re certainly not going to be forgotten."

You stepped closer, placing a hand gently on Jinx’s shoulder, trying to convey the steadiness you wanted her to feel. "I don’t know what the future holds," you continued, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "But I do know that you’re a part of it. I don’t want to lose you. Neither of us does."

Jinx’s breathing hitched, and for a moment, it seemed like she might finally let the wall she’d built up come crumbling down. She glanced up at you, her wide eyes searching yours, as if she were waiting for a sign that this wasn’t a dream, that this wasn’t just some cruel joke.

"You’re sure?" Jinx asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her vulnerability laid bare. "You’re sure you don’t want to... forget about me?" She swallowed hard, her usual bravado replaced by the uncertainty that had been lurking beneath all along.

You nodded firmly, your hand tightening on her shoulder. "I’m sure, Jinx. You’re not a mistake. You’re not a burden. You’re family."

The words seemed to hang in the air for a moment, and Jinx stood there, her body tense as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. Then, slowly, her face softened, and the rawness in her eyes faded just a little. She looked at Silco, and then back at you, as though trying to reconcile the fractured pieces of herself that she had kept hidden away for so long.

After a moment, she cast a glance at the pregnancy test again, her voice still uncertain but with a touch of curiosity. "I don’t really know about this kid thing," she muttered, her words soft but full of confusion. "But... I can teach them stuff, right? Like... how to make cool things blow up?"

You laughed softly, the tension beginning to ease as Jinx’s mischievous spark returned. "Of course, Jinx," you said, offering her a reassuring smile. "You’ll be the best big sibling ever."

"Just... don't make the kid your partner in crime right away, alright?" Silco says, his tone unexpectedly gentle.

Jinx’s eyes lit up, her mischievous grin returning in full force. "Oh, no promises, Silco."

And in that moment, the storm seemed to pass. The air between you all lightened, and though the future was uncertain, you knew that you would face it together. As a family. No matter what.

[spxllcxstxr]

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Bridgerton Sibling!reader

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Èowyn

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Game of Thrones

Sandor Clegane

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Podrick Payne

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Margaery Tyrell

House of the Dragon

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Aemond Targaryen

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The Bear

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Richie Jerimovich

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Berazatto Sibling!reader

Succession

Kendall Roy

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Arcane

Silco (young and old)

Viktor

Jayce Talis

Jayvik x reader

Sevika

Mel Medarda

Jaymel x reader

Caitlyn Kiramman

Vi

Caitvi x reader

What I Will Write

Sibling!reader

Child!reader (all platonic of course)

Any Middle Earth race!reader

Soulmate AU (as long as you give me the type)

If you don’t see something here, don’t be afraid to send me an ask!

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Smut/nsfw

Muggle AU

Modern AU

Professor x student

Real people fics

Incest

Detailed triggering topics

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Important Things To Keep In Mind

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Blurbs under 1k, and headcanons will be easier for me to write, but that doesn’t mean I won’t get to a fic request!

If I don’t feel comfortable with a request, I won’t write it. However, if that happens, I will let you know.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this! I can’t wait to get your request!

[aspenmissing]

ᴀʀᴄᴀɴᴇ: ʙᴀᴛʜʀᴏᴏᴍ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ||

5985 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴᴜᴅɪᴛʏ (ɴᴏ ɴᴜᴅɪᴛʏ ɪɴ ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ'ꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ. ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏ ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟ) , ᴏᴏᴄ ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴄᴜᴛᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴏᴜʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇʟʏ ᴍᴇɴ ᴀɴᴅ 'ᴍᴜꜱᴛ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛ' ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ ɪɴᴠᴏʟᴠɪɴɢ ꜱʜᴏᴡᴇʀꜱ, ʙᴀᴛʜꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏɴɢ - ɪɴᴄʀᴇᴅɪʙʟʏ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙʀᴜꜱʜ - ʜᴀɪʀ.

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ/ᴊɪɴx

JAYCE

The evening at the workshop in their apartment had been a whirlwind of calculations, late-night tinkering, and discoveries. Jayce sat at his workbench, weary but content with the progress he'd made. You had been there all day, by his side, offering quiet support, and now the sounds of the workshop had quieted down.

"How about a break?" you suggested, stretching slightly, your voice soft and soothing.

Jayce paused, looking up from his work, his eyes meeting yours. There was a weariness in his gaze, but also a quiet appreciation. "Sounds perfect," he said, his voice low but filled with gratitude.

Without another word, the two of you made your way out of the workshop, Jayce trailing slowly behind you to the bathroom, the familiar scent of metal and oil from the workshop lingered faintly, but it quickly gave way to the soft steam as the shower was turned on.

The two of you, both covered in the day's grime and sweat, quickly shed your clothes, stepping into the shower together. The warm water felt like a release from the weight of the day. Jayce stood just behind you, letting the water pour over his shoulders as you reached for the body wash.

"Let me take care of you first," you said softly, your hands gently lathering up the sponge.

You moved behind him, slowly running your hands over his back. The warmth of your fingers against his skin was both soothing and intimate, each motion a silent expression of how much you cared for him. The tension in his muscles began to melt away under your touch, and Jayce let out a quiet sigh of relief.

"That feels amazing," he murmured, his voice thick with relaxation.

You smiled, pleased to see him unwind under your touch. "You deserve it."

After a few moments, Jayce turned to face you, his eyes warm with appreciation. "Your turn," he said, his voice gentle but insistent. He squeezed a bit of body wash into his hands, his fingers gliding over your skin as he began to wash your back. His touch was tender, each motion slow and deliberate, making sure to be gentle, knowing how hard you worked and how much you needed this time to unwind.

His hands moved with care, massaging away the tension in your back. It felt so calming, so loving, that you couldn't help but close your eyes and lean into his touch.

"You're so gentle," you whispered, the warmth of his hands sending a soft shiver down your spine. "I never want this moment to end."

Jayce smiled softly, his gaze tender as he continued to massage your back. "I’ll always take care of you," he replied quietly, his voice full of sincerity. "You deserve nothing less."

As he finished, his hands lingered on your shoulders, pulling you gently into his arms. He pressed his chest against your back, his body warm against yours. You could feel his heartbeat thumping softly against you, and it brought a sense of peace and closeness.

Jayce's lips found the back of your neck, his kisses soft and slow, almost as if he were savouring the moment. He placed another gentle kiss on your skin, moving up to your shoulder, before pulling you even closer, wrapping his arms around you in a warm embrace.

"I love you," he whispered against your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "I just want to hold you like this forever."

You smiled, turning slightly in his arms so you could meet his gaze. "I love you too, Jayce. And please don't ever let me go."

With your arms around each other, standing beneath the warm shower, you both stayed there, savouring the quiet intimacy of the moment. No words were needed as you held each other close, surrounded by the warmth of the water and the even warmer connection between you.

VIKTOR

The evening at the workshop had been filled with quiet determination. Viktor, as always, had been hunched over his workbench, lost in the intricacies of his projects. His cane was propped up beside him, his brace still firmly in place. The toll of his condition had been ever-present, but there was a softness in the way he moved, an acknowledgment of the little things that made life more bearable—like having you by his side.

You had been working alongside him, but now, as the day wound down, you could see how worn out he was. His movements were slower than usual, his body clearly aching from long hours at the bench. You walked over to him, offering a small smile as you gently touched his shoulder.

"Viktor," you said softly, "how about a break? A nice shower? You look like you could use one."

Viktor looked up, the usual spark in his eyes dimmed slightly by exhaustion, but he returned your smile. "I suppose I could use a bit of relaxation," he admitted, though there was a slight hesitation in his voice. He’d never been one to ask for help, but with you, he allowed himself to let down his guard.

You helped him to his feet, steadying him as he leaned on his cane. His movements were deliberate, slow, but there was still that same sharp intelligence in his eyes, even as the pain of his condition settled in. Together, you made your way to the small, private bathroom attached to the workshop, where you had set up a little corner of comfort for moments like these.

The shower was already steaming by the time you arrived, and Viktor gave a small, tired laugh as he looked at the stool that was positioned under the warm spray.

"Only you would think to have a stool in the shower," he teased, his voice light despite the heaviness of his body. "You really do know me."

You smiled, nodding as you helped him to sit down. "I just want to make sure you're comfortable," you replied, your voice tender and caring.

As Viktor settled onto the stool, you carefully removed his leg brace, setting it aside before doing the same with his back brace, both actions performed with practiced ease. He leaned slightly into you as you worked, his body grateful for the moment of relief. The small stool provided him the perfect support as he sat under the warm spray of the shower, his cane resting securely against the wall outside.

You adjusted the temperature of the water just right, the steam enveloping the space, and you took a deep breath, the air smelling of soap and the comfort of home. As you reached for the shampoo, a soft, familiar tune began to hum from your lips, the melody gentle and soothing. It was a song you often hummed to calm yourself and, now, Viktor as well. Your fingers worked through Viktor’s hair with a tender, practiced touch, massaging the shampoo into his scalp.

Viktor leaned back slightly, closing his eyes, the weight of the day starting to lift from his body as your soft humming surrounded him. His mind, always filled with thoughts, slowed for a moment as he allowed himself to simply be, his body grateful for the care you were giving him.

The hum continued, filling the space with a peaceful warmth. Viktor’s accented voice, thoughtful as always, broke the silence. "You know, I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much I appreciate these small moments," he murmured, his words trailing off as he relaxed further under your touch.

You continued humming, your fingers gently working through his hair, never faltering in your attention to him. "You don't need to," you replied quietly, your voice soft and loving. "I do this because I want to. You deserve this care, Viktor."

His lips curved into a small, tired smile as he let the sound of your humming wash over him. "You make the world feel a little less heavy," he whispered, the emotion in his voice barely masked by his usual calm demeanour. "Even in these quiet moments... I feel like I can breathe."

The two of you shared the quiet intimacy of the moment, the sound of water and your humming blending together, creating a peaceful lull that allowed Viktor to release the tensions of the day.

His breathing slowed, but his mind, as always, was racing. "You know, I've been thinking," he began, his voice soft but filled with the familiar depth of his thoughts.

You let out a light laugh, your fingers continuing to massage his scalp with gentle care. "Of course you have," you replied with a playful tone.

Viktor shook his head lightly at your response, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, as he continues, "The future is... well, uncertain. So much can change in an instant. But with you, it feels... more steady. Like I can trust in something beyond all the... calculations and equations."

You smiled, his words both soothing and touching. "I trust you, Viktor. You’ve brought so much to this world already. You’re brilliant. And, more than that... you’re kind. That’s what matters."

His lips quirked into a smile, though he didn't open his eyes. "I don't know about all that," he murmured. "But I appreciate your faith in me." He shifted slightly, his hand gripping the edge of the stool. "I’m just... trying to do something worthwhile before it’s too late."

You continued massaging the shampoo into his scalp, your fingers moving carefully, soothingly, as he rambled on, lost in his thoughts. "Do you ever stop thinking, Viktor?" you asked playfully, your voice light.

Viktor chuckled, though it was a sound full of weariness. "No, I suppose not. I could do with a bit more silence sometimes. But then again, I wouldn’t be here without my mind always racing. I suppose it’s a gift and a curse."

You rinsed the shampoo from his hair, your hands gently running through the strands to ensure they were clean. Viktor let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing under your touch.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "For being patient with me... for everything."

You smiled, moving to grab the conditioner, but Viktor’s hand reached up, lightly brushing your wrist. "Let me," he said, his voice soft yet insistent.

You hesitated but then nodded, allowing him to take the bottle from your hand. Viktor applied the conditioner to his hair with steady hands, still talking, as his mind never seemed to slow.

"You know, I’ve been thinking about the long term... If I could ever fix things, if I could somehow regain what I’ve lost..." His voice trailed off, but you could hear the weight behind his words. "I’m afraid, sometimes. But then I remember... you’re here. And that thought alone makes everything feel... less daunting."

You leaned in, your lips brushing gently against his temple. "I’ll always be here, Viktor. You don’t have to face anything alone."

He smiled softly, his heart full of affection as you finished rinsing his hair. When you were done, Viktor leaned back slightly, taking a deep breath. Then, in a rare moment of vulnerability, he reached for you, his arms wrapping gently around your waist, pulling his face to your stomach.

"Thank you for being my anchor," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "For being here, even when I’m at my most... complex."

You gently wrapped your arms around his head, brushing a few stray locks of hair back from his ear as you smiled down at him. "You’re my anchor too, Viktor," you said softly, your voice filled with warmth. "We’re in this together, no matter what."

And there, in the small, steam-filled bathroom, the two of you stayed close, the warmth of the shower and the soft sound of water surrounding you. Viktor, despite his struggles, found solace in your presence—just as you found peace in being with him.

JAYVIK

The warm water cascaded down, filling the small bathroom with the comforting sound of a steady shower. The steam curled around you and Viktor, who sat on the small stool beneath the gentle spray, his cane resting against the wall outside. You were seated on the shower floor, sat between VIktor's legs and your head tilted back as Viktor carefully washed your hair.

A soft laugh escaped you as you continued telling Viktor the story. "So, I heard this one from a friend the other day," you said, the sound of your voice light and playful. "A woman walked into a bakery and asked for a dozen donuts. The baker, seeing she was holding a massive bag of flour, said, 'You sure you need all of those? You're already carrying a whole bakery with you!'"

Viktor’s lips curled slightly in amusement as he gently massaged shampoo into your hair, his touch careful and methodical. "I take it your friend isn’t lacking for wit," he remarked, his voice carrying the faintest hint of a smile.

You chuckled, feeling the warmth of the moment. "Oh, no, she’s always full of them. It's a bit dangerous, actually. You never know when she’ll throw out some ridiculous one-liner."

Viktor hummed in response, his hands continuing to work through your hair with a soft, practiced rhythm. "It’s good to have people like that around. Keeps things interesting."

"Definitely," you agreed, your smile widening. "Life's way too serious if you don’t have some humor."

Just as Viktor was rinsing out the shampoo, you heard a soft sound from the bathroom door—one that grew louder as footsteps approached.

"Hey! What about me?!" came a familiar voice, one that immediately made you smile.

Jayce appeared in the doorway, his arms crossed and a pout on his face. His gaze flicked between you and Viktor, clearly unimpressed. "You two just couldn’t wait to start the fun without me, huh? You’re lucky I’m not offended."

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a grin. "Oh, stop whining, Jayce. It’s just a shower," you teased. "You could have joined us anytime."

Suddenly, Jayce shot you a cheeky grin, his mischievous spark lighting up his face. And before you could even question his look, Jayce strips off his shirt and pants with a dramatic flair, sending a wink your way. He stepped into the shower and immediately nudged you playfully. "Scoot a boot," he said, making a motion with his hand as he settled behind you. "Make some room. I'm coming in."

With a teasing groan, you shuffled a bit, sitting up as Jayce comfortably slid in behind you, his legs folding on either side of you. He took your space between Viktor's legs, and before you knew it, you were nestled between him, your back against his chest and his arms wrapped around your waist.

Viktor raised an amused eyebrow but didn’t comment. "Well, since I’ve already taken care of Y/N," he said with a smirk, "I suppose it’s only fair I wash Jayce’s hair now." He gave a small, dry chuckle as he grabbed the shampoo and positioned himself behind Jayce.

Jayce, seemingly comfortable in his new position, chuckled lightly. "Hey, don’t mess it up, Viktor. I’m trusting you with this precious mane."

You snickered at his words but then found yourself leaning back more, trying to relax in the little space between them. The warmth of the shower enveloped all three of you as Viktor began to gently work the shampoo through Jayce’s hair. Jayce let out a contented sigh as Viktor’s fingers worked their magic.

You, not one to let silence take over, continued to ramble away. "You know, I was thinking the other day about something odd, but funny. Do you think animals have favorite foods, or do they just eat whatever’s in front of them? Like... if a dog was given a steak and a peanut butter sandwich, would it know the difference?"

Jayce let out a small laugh. "Knowing you, you probably spent a good amount of time pondering that, huh?"

"I mean, if you think about it, it’s a weird question," you replied, smiling at the absurdity of your own thoughts. "It’s like they don’t have taste buds the way we do, but maybe they have their own version of favorites?"

Viktor, continuing to rinse Jayce’s hair, gave a quiet chuckle at your musings. "I imagine they must. Though I highly doubt a dog is contemplating its culinary choices the same way you do."

Jayce grinned and playfully nudged you. "Yeah, we’re the ones complicating things here. Dogs? They’re just living their best life, getting treats whenever they please."

As Viktor finished massaging the last of the shampoo through Jayce’s hair, you sighed contentedly, completely at peace in the quiet, shared moment between the three of you. The sound of water was soothing, and despite the playful bickering and light teasing, there was a warmth to the atmosphere—a deep comfort in being with them.

It was moments like this that made everything else fade away, the world outside of the bathroom no longer mattering. In this space, there was only the three of you—together.

VANDER

Vander had spent the evening closing up The Last Drop, ensuring everything was locked up tight for the night. As the kids settled into bed, he couldn’t help but glance over at you, swaying gently on your barstool, a grin plastered on your face as you giggled at something only you seemed to find amusing. It was clear you had indulged in more than a couple of drinks tonight, your words slurring and your movements a little too carefree.

He chuckled softly to himself, a warm, affectionate smile crossing his features. "Alright, love," he said, his deep voice filled with amusement, "let's get you upstairs, huh?"

You turned your head to him with wide, slightly unfocused eyes, your lips curling into a grin. "Vander," you said, your voice teasing and dreamy, "you know you’re my favorite, right? I mean, who else would take care of me like you do?"

He raised an eyebrow, helping you steady yourself as you tried to stand. "I’m your favorite? And here I thought it was Powder," he teased as he gently guided you toward the stairs.

You shook your head, stumbling a little as you leaned against him for support. "Nope, it’s you. You’re big and strong, and you’re always so... so calm. Like, you have this thing about you," you said, waving your hands around as if the words were escaping you in a wave of giggles.

Vander simply chuckled, leading you into your shared room and gently sitting you on the bed for a moment. He couldn't help but smile at your antics, shaking his head. "Alright, let’s get you cleaned up before you start singing the praises of my muscles or something," he said, already pulling your shoes off and gently tugging at your clothes.

You giggled again, clearly delighted by the whole situation. "Oh, I think I’d rather... rather see you flex those muscles," you said, your words slurring more as you spoke. Vander gave a soft laugh, amused but not bothered, before he undressed you slowly, making sure not to rush it, even if you were far from steady on your feet.

He helped you stand, guiding you toward the ensuite bathroom, where the warm steam from the shower already filled the air. He turned the water on, adjusting it to just the right temperature, and as you stumbled a bit, he placed a steadying hand on your back. "Alright, love, sit down for me," he instructed gently, leading you to the bathtub.

You plopped down into the tub with a small huff, the cool porcelain against your skin bringing you back to reality just a bit. "You’re so nice to me, Vander," you mumbled, your voice still a little distant as your eyes tried to focus on him.

Vander rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, then reached for the showerhead. He kept a soft smile on his face as he kneeled beside you, the warm water cascading over your hair. He grabbed the shampoo bottle and, as the water splashed against your skin, he gently began to lather it into your hair. "I’m just doing my job, love," he said in a soothing tone. "Taking care of you, like always."

You tilted your head back, your gaze unfocused but somehow full of affection. "You’re the best," you said softly, as if it were a secret between the two of you. "I love how you never... never get mad at me."

Vander chuckled, his hands gently massaging your scalp as he worked the shampoo in. "Well, someone’s got to be the calm one around here," he teased, his fingers working through your hair with a tenderness that came naturally to him. He glanced up, his eyes soft and amused as he watched you relax, the alcohol starting to take a back seat to the comfort of his presence.

"Do you know what I think?" you suddenly said, your words slipping out in a half-ramble. "I think... I think you should wear more shirts like that. You look so... handsome."

Vander’s lips curved into a smirk, unable to resist the warmth in your tone. "You’re a bit tipsy, aren’t you?" he teased lightly, but he couldn’t hide the fondness in his voice.

You smiled dreamily, nodding. "Just a little," you said, leaning back into the tub, your head cradled by the warm water as it rinsed away the soap. "But I still love you."

He smiled back at you, his hands tenderly rinsing your hair. "I love you too, more than you know," he replied, his voice full of quiet affection. He continued washing your hair, the warm water cascading over your skin as he patiently humoured your nonsensical ramblings. It wasn’t a perfect night, but it was a peaceful one, and as long as you were with him, that was all that mattered.

SILCO

The soft flicker of candlelight cast delicate shadows across the room, its warm glow mingling with the sweet scent of lavender and rose petals. The classical music that filled the air was gentle and soothing, wrapping around the room like a soft embrace. You lay in the bathtub, bubbles up to your chin, head tilted back, eyes closed in perfect relaxation. The warm water swirled around you, and every inch of your body seemed to melt into the comfort of the bath. It was a rare moment of peace, and you savored every second of it.

The door creaked softly as it opened, and you heard Silco’s voice calling your name, a hint of amusement in it. "Y/N?"

You hummed in response, too relaxed to speak, your eyes still closed. There was a small pause before the sound of footsteps filled the room. Silco stepped inside, his figure dark against the soft candlelight, his jacket and gloves absent, leaving him only in his dress pants and waistcoat. His sharp eyes scanned the scene in front of him—your form resting in the bath, the flickering candles casting a soft glow on your skin, and the air filled with the calm melody of the classical music.

Silco’s lips curled into a small smile as he chuckled lightly. "I see you’ve made yourself quite comfortable," he said, his voice soft and amused.

You opened your eyes slowly, your smile warm as you saw him standing there. "Just thought I’d indulge a little," you replied, your voice airy, still wrapped in the relaxation of the moment. "It’s been a long day."

He walked over and lowered himself to sit cross-legged on the floor beside you, his waistcoat wrinkling slightly as he settled. His eyes lingered on you, a soft intensity in them as he took in the sight of you so peaceful, so serene. "I can see that. But," he mused, voice almost teasing, "you didn’t wait for me to join you?"

You tilted your head slightly, a playful glint in your eyes as you met his gaze. "I figured you were busy," you teased, your fingers absently tracing the surface of the water. "But now that you’re here, I’m sure I could make room for you."

Silco raised an eyebrow at your playful tone, a half-smirk tugging at his lips. "You always do find a way to get me involved," he said, though there was warmth in his voice, something softer than his usual cool detachment. "But I don’t think I’d fit in here as well as you do."

You chuckled softly. "Maybe not, but you’d look dashing regardless."

He let out a quiet laugh, leaning back slightly as his eyes lingered on the scene, the soft glow of the candles reflecting in his gaze. "I doubt the water would stay as pristine as it is with me in it," he said, voice still warm but filled with that signature dry humor.

"True," you said with a melodic laugh. "But it would be worth it just to see you try."

The two of you settled into a comfortable silence, the soft sounds of the music and the flickering candlelight filling the space between your quiet exchanges. You allowed your head to tilt back again, eyes closed, the warmth of the water easing away the tension in your body. Silco’s presence beside you was grounding, and the intimacy of the moment wrapped around you both.

After a few moments, Silco spoke again, his voice more thoughtful this time. "You know," he began, eyes glinting slightly, "you’ve always been a bit of an enigma to me. Always calm, collected... yet I can see how easily you lose yourself in moments like this." He glanced over at you, his gaze softening as he continued. "I never really understood it until now. But perhaps... it’s not so bad. Seeing you like this."

You met his gaze, a quiet understanding settling in. "It’s important, I think," you said softly, your voice almost a whisper as you traced your fingers through the bubbles, "to find peace where we can, even in a world like ours."

Silco didn’t speak immediately, his gaze distant as he processed your words. The quiet of the room wrapped around you, and for the first time, it felt as if you were both suspended in time, the outside world far away. After a long pause, Silco spoke again, his voice quieter than before. "Perhaps I’ve spent too long trying to control everything around me," he murmured, his tone softer, more vulnerable than usual. "I’ve forgotten what it feels like to simply be still."

You smiled gently, your hand resting on the edge of the tub. "You’ve always been still in your own way," you said quietly. "Even in the chaos. You just don’t notice it."

Silco’s lips twitched slightly, his sharp gaze turning to you with something softer behind it. "I think you’ve always known how to calm me," he admitted, his voice a little raspier, a touch of sincerity in it. "It’s an odd thing, isn’t it? You make me feel like I could breathe for the first time in years."

The classical music played on, its soft strings almost like a lullaby now, filling the room with an air of serenity. Silco shifted again, sitting a little closer, his gaze never leaving you. "Perhaps we should make moments like this a regular occurrence," he said, his voice softer than it had been when he entered. "I’m beginning to understand their value."

You nodded, a sense of contentment settling over you as you gazed at him. "I’d like that," you said softly. "A little stillness every now and then... it’s something we both deserve."

Silco’s lips parted just slightly, a rare, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You always know just what to say."

You chuckled lightly, the sound of it warm and carefree, before sinking deeper into the tub, letting the water soothe you further. "I’ve had practice."

As the minutes passed, the two of you remained in your quiet corner of the world, the flickering candles, soft music, and your peaceful conversation surrounding you both. It was a fleeting moment of calm, but in that moment, nothing else seemed to matter.

POWDER/JINX (PLATONIC!)

Jinx sat in the bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror with a deep scowl etched across her face. Her once vibrant blue hair, now a tangled mess, fell around her shoulders in wild strands. She held the brush in her hands, staring at it as if it might magically fix the knots in her hair. She gave it another try, attempting to work through the tangles, but each tug only seemed to make things worse. Frustration built up in her chest as she gritted her teeth, her hands trembling slightly from the effort. The more she tried, the more helpless she felt, and soon enough, she simply gave up, slumping back against the chair, her eyes narrowed in frustration as she stared at her reflection.

"Ugh, stupid hair!" she muttered under her breath, glaring at the brush like it had personally wronged her. She groaned loudly and dropped it onto the floor, arms crossing over her chest in defeat. “Why does it have to be so damn complicated?”

Her blue locks now lay in a chaotic heap around her, making her look even more disheveled than usual. Jinx sighed deeply and kicked the sink cupboard in irritation, eyes dropping to the scattered hairbrushes and combs in front of her.

As she sat there, wallowing in frustration, she didn't hear the soft knock on her door.

"Jinx?" came a gentle voice, warm and familiar.

Jinx’s head shot up, her eyes brightening for a second before she wiped her expression clean of irritation. "Oh, uh... come in!" she called out, trying to sound like everything was fine, though her frustration still lingered in her tone.

The door creaked open, and there you stood in the doorway, peeking inside with a gentle smile. Your eyes immediately locked onto her tangled mess of hair. “I heard some pretty dramatic groaning from in here,” you said, stepping into the room and raising an eyebrow. “What’s going on, kiddo?”

Jinx slumped back into her chair, groaning again. "This stupid hair... I washed it, but now it’s all knotted and I can’t get it to brush out. It’s like it hates me."

You smiled softly at her, walking over to kneel beside her. You ran your fingers through the strands, noting how thick and soft her hair was, despite the tangles. "I see," you said, eyes full of understanding. "That can be a pain. I remember when I used to struggle with that too."

Jinx shot you a skeptical look, but there was a soft curiosity in her eyes now. "You? Struggle with hair?" She raised an eyebrow. "I can’t even imagine you having problems with your hair."

You laughed gently, a quiet, soothing sound that seemed to settle her just a little. “Oh, trust me, it wasn’t always this easy. I had my fair share of knots and tangles when I was growing up. In fact..." You paused, glancing down at the mess of blue hair in front of you. “My mother used to help me when I couldn’t get mine untangled. And let me tell you, she was a master at it. She taught me all the tricks.”

Jinx’s eyes softened slightly at the mention of your mother. You had often spoken of her with fondness, telling stories of the care she took in raising you. For a moment, Jinx felt a pang in her chest—something she hadn’t quite felt before. That warmth, that connection. She’d never had that kind of maternal guidance, but she liked hearing your stories.

"How’d she help you?" Jinx asked, her voice softer than before.

You smiled and gently took the brush from her hand, running it through the strands of her hair with practiced ease. "First, she taught me that you’ve got to be patient with it," you said, your voice calm and comforting. "You can’t rush. You take your time, work through the tangles slowly, and remember to be gentle. Like this."

As you carefully started brushing through the knots, you noticed Jinx’s body slowly relaxing, her posture softening under your gentle care. In the reflection of the mirror, you could see her eyes following your every move. Every now and then, your own gaze flickered to hers in the mirror, catching her watching you with a look that was part curiosity, part trust.

"You’re really good at this," Jinx commented, the tension in her voice melting away as you worked through the last of the knots.

You chuckled softly. “It’s not just about the brushing. You’ve got to keep the hair untangled as you go. Otherwise, it just gets worse. And once you’ve got the tangles out, you can do fun things with it—like braids."

"Braids?" Jinx repeated the word, her eyes lighting up with curiosity. “Like... the cool ones you see in the old books?”

“Exactly,” you said, smiling as you finished brushing her hair. You gently separated the strands into sections and began braiding them, guiding Jinx through each step slowly. "My mom used to tell me stories while she braided my hair. She said that braids could help protect your hair, make it stronger. And she always said braids were a sign of care—when someone takes the time to braid your hair, it means they care about you."

Jinx looked down at your hands, her expression thoughtful. In the mirror, she caught a glimpse of the way your fingers worked through her hair, the gentleness of your touch, and the care in your movements. “I... I think I’d like that. To have my hair done like that. Maybe it’s not so bad, this hair thing.” She shifted in her seat, and you saw the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips in the reflection.

You continued braiding, the room quiet save for the soft classical music filling the space, the gentle rhythm of your hands working with the hair like a lullaby. "You know, my mom also told me that hair carries memories. It’s like every braid, every knot, tells a story,” you said, your voice soft. “It’s funny—now, every time I look at my hair, I can almost hear her telling me stories of when I was little. Things she used to do when I was upset.”

Jinx looked at you through the reflection of the mirror, her fingers absently playing with the edge of her sleeve. “What kind of stories?” she asked, genuinely intrigued.

You smiled and finished the braid, gently running your fingers through it. “Oh, all kinds. She’d tell me about how she’d help her own mother with her hair, and how they’d talk about everything. About life, about what it meant to be strong even when things felt impossible. She’d say that no matter how tough it got, you always had to keep going, because you never know when something beautiful might come out of it.” You paused for a moment, glancing at Jinx in the mirror. "It made me feel like I wasn’t alone. Like, no matter what, she was always there."

Jinx’s eyes seemed to soften, and for a brief second, her usual wild energy was replaced with something quieter, more tender. “I never had that,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I always had to do things myself.”

You smiled at her reflection, brushing a lock of hair away from her face. "You don't have to do everything alone, Jinx. Not anymore."

Jinx blinked, her eyes bright with a mix of emotion she wasn’t sure how to process. But in that moment, the two of you shared something unspoken, a bond of care and understanding that transcended everything else.

The braid, now finished, lay perfectly in her hair, and you gently tugged it, just enough to show it off. “There we go,” you said with a soft smile. “Now you’re ready to take on the world, Powder.”

She looked in the mirror, at her reflection, and a small, genuine smile tugged at her lips for the first time in a long while. “Thanks, Y/N. This... feels nice. Maybe I’ll keep it like this. You know... like how you used to do.”

You smiled back, happy to see that small spark of joy in her eyes. "Anytime, kiddo. Anytime.

[aspenmissing]

ᴀʀᴄᴀɴᴇ: ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ?

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ-ɪꜱʜ

6159 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴛᴀʟᴋꜱ ᴏꜰ ɪɴꜰᴇʀᴛɪʟɪᴛʏ (ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ'ꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ɪᴅᴇᴀ ᴏꜰ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ, ᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴏꜰ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴋɪᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴇꜱ ᴜᴘ. ʜᴏᴡ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴏᴛʜ ꜱɪᴅᴇꜱ ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛ?

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ/ᴊɪɴx

JAYCE

You and Jayce stood outside the bright, cheerful building of the preschool, staring up at the colorful sign that read "Bright Beginnings Academy." Jayce's hands rested casually on his hips, the usual confident smile on his face as he looked down at you. His enthusiasm was infectious, and you couldn’t help but feel a little excited as well.

"I still can't believe they asked us to do this," Jayce said, adjusting his jacket. "It's not every day we get invited to talk to a group of young minds about science and technology."

You laughed lightly. "I think it's a great opportunity to inspire them. If even one of these kids decides to pursue something in science because of what we say, that would be amazing."

Jayce nodded, beaming. "Exactly! And I’ll make sure to give them a talk they'll never forget. You know, I can be pretty persuasive."

You raised an eyebrow. "Just... remember, not every five-year-old is going to understand particle acceleration. Keep it simple for them, okay?"

Jayce waved a hand dismissively. "Don’t worry, I’ve got this. I'll make it sound fun."

You both entered the preschool and were greeted by the head teacher, Ms. Graves, who led you to the first classroom. The kids were sitting at small tables, eyes wide with curiosity, some fidgeting with toys and others whispering to each other.

"Everyone, this is Jayce and Y/N," Ms. Graves announced cheerfully. "They’ve come to tell us all about their exciting work!"

Jayce stepped forward, his tall frame making him stand out among the tiny chairs. He cleared his throat, a grin spreading across his face. "Hey there, little scientists! I’m Jayce, and I build incredible machines that can help solve problems! I work with energy and technology to create inventions that can change the world. I bet some of you have seen big machines like robots, right?" He smiled, trying to gauge their understanding.

A few hands shot up eagerly. "I saw a robot on TV!" one of the kids exclaimed.

"That's right! And those robots use technology I help create!" Jayce said, puffing out his chest slightly.

The kids seemed intrigued, but the more Jayce spoke, the more confused their faces became as he dove deeper into the technical aspects of his work. He mentioned “energy fields” and “complex algorithms,” which only seemed to go over their heads.

You smiled softly to yourself, watching him confidently speak. It was clear he was passionate about his work, but you could see where things might be getting a bit... complicated for the children. You moved toward him and placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a knowing look.

"Maybe we should take a step back and make it a bit more fun for them," you suggested gently, giving him a playful nudge.

Jayce blinked, realizing his overcomplicated explanation. "Ah, right. I got carried away."

You took a step forward, crouching down to the kids' level. "Hey there, everyone!" you said warmly. "I’m Y/N, and I love science too! Jayce builds things that help people, but sometimes, instead of using big words, we can show you how things work with fun activities!"

You looked to the teacher, who smiled and nodded in agreement. "Let’s make a simple machine today. We can build something cool together!"

The kids cheered, their excitement palpable. You led them to the activity table where materials like cardboard, straws, rubber bands, and small gears were set out. You guided them through creating simple contraptions—a basic pulley system, a little lever, and even a tiny rolling machine.

Jayce watched you in awe, his arms crossed over his chest as he observed how effortlessly you connected with the kids. You patiently helped each child, showing them how to build and encouraging their creativity. Some kids had trouble with the mechanics, and you were there with a smile, explaining everything in the simplest ways.

The more you interacted with the kids, the more they clung to you. One child tugged at your sleeve, asking to show you their creation. Another crawled into your lap, looking up at you with wide, adoring eyes. You laughed, gently brushing a few strands of hair from your face.

"Look, Jayce," you whispered, nodding to the group gathered around you. "They really love you too, but I think they might love me just a bit more right now."

Jayce chuckled, a bit of a pout on his lips. "I’m supposed to be the cool inventor, but I guess you’ve got the magic touch."

You leaned in, teasing. "What can I say? I’m a natural with kids. They like when things are fun and hands-on."

Jayce's gaze softened as he watched you, a proud smile spreading across his face. "You’re amazing," he said, more to himself than to you. "You make it look so easy."

The children continued to surround you, proudly showing off their creations. One little girl climbed onto your lap, a big smile on her face as she presented her simple yet clever machine.

"Look, I made a lever that helps me open my toy box!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

You beamed, helping her adjust the lever. "That's fantastic! You’ve just made something that could help you every day. I think you’re a real inventor in the making."

The classroom was alive with chatter, and Jayce had long since stepped back to give you the spotlight. He couldn’t help but admire how you connected with the kids, how naturally you made learning fun for them. He realized, with a soft chuckle, that maybe you were the true teacher here today.

As the activity came to a close, the kids surrounded you, each one wanting to show you their project or give you a high-five. Jayce joined in, still amazed by how well you were able to inspire the next generation.

"You know," he said, as you walked hand-in-hand with him out of the classroom, a playful glint in his eye, "maybe next time, we should let you do the talking."

You smiled, squeezing his hand. "Maybe we should. But you were still awesome, Jayce. I just think you need to simplify your genius a little."

Jayce laughed softly, his heart warmed by how easily you embraced everything that came with working with children. "I think I could learn a thing or two from you. You’re a natural."

You grinned. "I just know how to make science fun."

VIKTOR

The room was dimly lit, a soft glow from the warm fire casting flickering shadows on the walls. You sat beside Viktor in his workshop, the steady hum of machinery and the quiet crackle of the fire filling the space. You’d been talking for hours, about everything and nothing, when the conversation shifted to something you’d always carried in your heart.

"I’ve always wanted to have children," you said softly, tracing the rim of your teacup absentmindedly. "Even when I was young, I used to imagine what it would be like to be a mother, to have a little one running around, learning new things, growing up. It just always felt right to me."

Viktor’s expression faltered for a moment, his brow furrowing as he lowered his gaze. The silence stretched between you, and you could feel the weight of his thoughts, the subtle tension in the air. It wasn’t like Viktor to be so quiet, and it made your heart tighten with concern.

"You... want children?" Viktor’s voice was softer than usual, almost as if he was testing the words, as if they were foreign to him.

You nodded, turning toward him with a small smile. "I’ve always dreamed of it, yes. I think it’s one of the most fulfilling things someone can experience."

Viktor shifted slightly in his seat, a look of deep thought on his face. "I..." He hesitated, his fingers tapping lightly on the arm of his chair as if searching for the right words. "I don’t think that’s something I can give you."

You blinked, a frown forming at the edges of your lips. "What do you mean?"

Viktor’s eyes met yours, and there was a heaviness in them, a burden he had carried for so long, one you knew he didn’t speak of often. "I have my illness," he said quietly, his voice tight. "And my... condition. I don’t want to pass on any of what I have to a child."

You felt a pang in your chest, the deep sadness in his words cutting through you. He was already thinking about his own deformity, his illness—how it affected his body, his life. Viktor never talked about it openly, always focusing on his work, but you knew that it was always there, lingering in his mind. He feared it, feared what it would mean for the future.

"But Viktor," you whispered, reaching out to take his hand, "you are more than your illness. You are strong, brilliant, and beautiful in so many ways. If we were to have children... they wouldn’t just inherit the things that make you feel broken. They’d inherit everything that makes you who you are."

Viktor’s eyes flickered to your hand, his gaze softening for a brief moment, but the weight of his thoughts remained. "I can’t bear the thought of passing on my suffering to anyone, especially a child. I wouldn’t want them to go through the things I’ve been through... the pain, the limitations." His voice broke slightly, though he tried to steady it. "I wouldn’t want them to have to carry the burden of what I’ve become."

Your heart ached for him, knowing how deeply he cared about you and how much it hurt him to feel that he could not offer you the life you had dreamed of. You gently squeezed his hand, offering him a tender smile, one filled with understanding and love.

"I understand, Viktor," you said softly. "I understand more than you know. I’m not asking for something you can’t give right now, and I wouldn’t want to put that kind of pressure on you. I respect your decision, and I support you completely. If it’s not the right time for you, then I’ll wait. I’ll wait as long as you need me to."

Viktor’s eyes searched yours, his lips trembling slightly, a mixture of gratitude and sorrow reflected in them. "You... you would wait for me?"

"Of course," you replied without hesitation. "I love you, Viktor. And whether we have children or not, my love for you won’t change. We’ll have the future that’s right for us, together."

A long silence fell between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a peaceful kind of silence, the kind that spoke volumes without the need for words. Viktor’s grip on your hand tightened, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles as if he needed that touch to steady himself, to remind himself that you were there, beside him.

"You’ve always been so patient with me," he murmured, his voice filled with a tenderness you rarely heard. "I don’t deserve your patience."

You shook your head, a small, affectionate smile playing at your lips. "You don’t have to deserve it, Viktor. It’s not about that. It’s about us, about being together, and supporting each other. We’ll figure this out, one step at a time. And when you’re ready, I’ll be here."

Viktor’s gaze softened, his eyes reflecting the gratitude he struggled to express. He leaned in slowly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, a silent promise passing between you. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "For everything."

And in that moment, you knew, without a doubt, that whatever the future held, you and Viktor would face it together—patiently, lovingly, and with the same unwavering commitment that had always defined your relationship.

JAYVIK

The soft crackle of the fireplace filled the room, the warm glow casting gentle shadows on the walls of the living room. You, Viktor, and Jayce had just finished a long day of work, and now, you were all unwinding in your cozy space. You and Viktor were seated on the couch, a few scattered papers and empty mugs left on the coffee table, while Jayce leaned back in his armchair, kicking his boots up with a sigh of relief.

For a while, there was nothing but the steady rhythm of breathing and the occasional rustling of papers as Viktor worked on a few ideas for his next project. Jayce, on the other hand, seemed content to simply unwind, the silence comfortable in a way only the three of you could share.

It was a casual evening—no talk of politics, no discussions of breakthroughs or setbacks. But then, as Jayce stretched his arms above his head, breaking the silence, he casually dropped a thought that had been on his mind for a while.

"You know," Jayce said, half to himself, "I was just thinking about how we could have a little one running around here one day. Maybe it would be nice to have someone to pass all of this on to, someone who would grow up with us."

Viktor’s brow furrowed, his fingers tapping absently on the edge of his chair. He didn’t immediately respond, though his gaze drifted to you as if testing the waters.

"You’re right," Viktor added quietly after a moment, his tone soft but pensive. "Maybe one day, we should. We’ve spent so much of our lives focused on work, but I suppose we should think about a future beyond just our creations."

You looked up at the two of them, surprised to hear this so directly. They’d mentioned the idea in passing before, but now it felt more tangible, more real. Still, you said nothing at first, unsure of how to react. Jayce, always eager to entertain new possibilities, kept talking.

"I wonder what it would be like," he mused. "What kind of parents we'd be. It’s crazy to think about it, but I think I’d want to give it a shot. But you know, it’s a lot of work, a lot of responsibility." He laughed softly. "Not sure if we’d be the perfect role models, huh?"

You gave him a half-smile, trying to keep the conversation light. But inside, a knot of tension began to form in your stomach. You could hear the underlying question in their words—the curiosity, the openness, and perhaps even a bit of uncertainty. They wanted your opinion, wanted to know if this was something you were considering, too.

But as you sat there in the living room with them, you knew this conversation had to come to a head. The secret you had been keeping from them—the truth you hadn’t been able to share yet—was slowly eating at you.

Taking a deep breath, you set your mug down on the table with a soft clink, your hands shaking slightly as you prepared to speak.

"I—" you started, your voice trembling a bit. "I need to tell you something."

Jayce and Viktor both turned their attention to you, sensing the change in the air. They sat up a little, waiting for you to continue.

"I’ve never told you this before," you began, trying to steady your breathing. "But... I can’t have children."

The words hung in the air between you like a weight, a truth you’d kept locked away for so long. You could feel the sting of shame welling up in your chest as you tried to continue.

"It’s... it’s because of infertility," you murmured, your eyes cast downward, unable to meet their gazes. "And I’ve never told either of you. I guess... I didn’t want to disappoint you. Or make you feel like... like I wasn’t enough. I’ve been so afraid that if you knew, you’d..."

You trailed off, the rush of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. You hadn’t meant for this to happen. You hadn’t meant to break down like this, but the truth was heavy, and the shame was worse than you’d imagined.

For a long moment, there was nothing but silence. The weight of your confession hung over you, suffocating. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at them, too afraid of how they might react. You had kept this secret for so long, hoping it would never come up, but now the truth was out there.

Then, to your surprise, you felt Viktor’s hand on your shoulder, gentle but firm, as if to reassure you that he was there. His voice, when it came, was softer than you had ever heard it.

"Y/N," he said quietly, his tone filled with understanding. "You don’t need to feel ashamed. We’re not angry with you, not at all."

Jayce, too, leaned forward, his gaze filled with concern but also affection. "We’re a team, Y/N," he said, his voice earnest. "There’s nothing you could say that would change that. We love you, and that doesn’t change because of something like this."

You finally lifted your gaze to them, tears threatening at the corners of your eyes. "But I—" you began, but Viktor shook his head gently.

"Listen to us," he said softly. "This doesn’t change anything. We’re still the same. And if you want children, we’ll find a way. Together."

Jayce nodded in agreement. "There are options, you know. Adoption. Surrogacy? We’ll figure it out, Y/N. No matter what."

Your heart swelled at their words, the weight in your chest beginning to lift, even if just a little. You weren’t alone in this. They understood, they cared, and they weren’t angry.

"I don’t deserve you both," you whispered, your voice breaking slightly.

Viktor leaned closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his eyes warm with sincerity. "You deserve all of us, Y/N. We’re in this together. There’s no need for shame. We’ll take each step together, and when the time is right, we’ll decide what’s next."

Jayce reached over, placing a reassuring hand on your knee, his expression softened with a rare, tender understanding. "We’re here for you, always. And we’ll figure this out, whatever path we need to take."

The comfort in their words, the warmth in their touch, soothed you more than you could have expected. Maybe the road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but you knew you wouldn’t walk it alone.

Together, the three of you would find a way forward.

VANDER

It was a quiet evening at the Vander household. The children had long since been put to bed, and the house was filled with the soft sounds of the night—crickets chirping in the distance, the occasional rustling of leaves in the breeze. You and Vander were seated by the fireplace, the warm glow from the flames casting gentle shadows across the room.

You had just finished tidying up after a long day of running around with the kids—Powder, Vi, Mylo, and Claggor. They were all sweet, each of them with their own personalities, their own quirks, and you loved every moment spent with them. But tonight, as you sat beside Vander, there was a different energy between you two. A quiet, lingering thought that had been on Vander’s mind for some time now.

Vander watched you from his seat, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he observed you. You were always so gentle, so patient with the kids. He had seen you day in and day out, playing with them, teaching them, loving them. It was clear how much you cared for them, and that made his heart swell with warmth. But tonight, something else flickered behind his eyes. Something he had been holding back for a while.

"You know," Vander began, his voice low and thoughtful, "you’ve been incredible with the kids."

You smiled at him, a soft, fond expression on your face. "I love them like they’re my own."

Vander’s gaze softened. "I can see that. They adore you. And it’s not just the way you take care of them—it’s the way you make them feel safe, the way you guide them. They need you, Y/N."

You shrugged, trying to hide the warmth in your chest. "They make it easy. They’re amazing kids."

Vander’s smile grew slightly, but there was something more in his eyes, a hint of something deeper. "You’ve been so good to them. I can't help but think…" He paused, as if carefully considering his words. "I wonder what it would be like to have another."

Your heart skipped a beat, unsure if you heard him correctly. "Another?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded slowly, his gaze turning toward the fire. "Yeah. You’re so good with them... I can’t help but imagine what it would be like, to have one of our own." His voice was quiet, almost a reflection of a thought he hadn’t fully voiced until now.

You stared at him, your mind racing. You loved the kids you already had but the idea of having one with Vander, of building your own family even further, was an exciting thought. You had always felt that spark of hope deep down, but you never dared to mention it, not wanting to push for something Vander might not feel the same about. But now, hearing him say it out loud, your heart fluttered with possibility.

"I..." You didn’t quite know what to say at first, the warmth in your chest expanding at the thought of another child. "I’ve thought about it, too. What it would be like to have one together."

Vander’s eyes found yours again, soft and full of tenderness. "I can’t help but wonder if we could handle another one. But then again..." He chuckled quietly, rubbing his hand over his chin. "We seem to manage just fine with the four of them."

You couldn’t help but laugh along with him. "They do keep us on our toes, don’t they?"

Vander grinned. "Yeah, but that’s what makes it worth it. Watching them grow, helping them become who they’re meant to be. And... I see the way you look after them. It’s something special."

You shifted closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder. "I love them, all of them. I love being their guardian, their guide." You sighed contently, your eyes falling closed as you breathed in the warmth of the room and the safety of his embrace. "I think another child could fit right in, don’t you?"

Vander’s hand found yours, gently intertwining your fingers. "Maybe it could. Maybe it’s time to see if we’re ready for that next step."

You turned your face up to look at him, your heart racing slightly as you met his gaze. The flickering light from the fire reflected in his eyes, giving them a depth of emotion that made your pulse quicken.

"You think we’re ready?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Vander’s grin grew as he leaned in slightly closer, his breath warm against your ear. "I think it’s something we should try."

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the tone in his voice, the weight of his words settling in. It was as if he was speaking not just about the idea of another child, but about everything that came with it—commitment, trust, love. His lips brushed against your ear as he continued, his voice low and smooth.

"I can’t think of a better person to have a child with than you, darling," he murmured. "So... what do you say? Are you ready to try?"

The air between you two seemed to crackle with tension, an unspoken promise, a shared understanding. You leaned into him, your heart thudding in your chest as you whispered back, "I’m ready."

With that, Vander’s lips found yours, gentle yet full of promise, as if sealing the decision, sealing the future. The kiss deepened, the warmth between you both growing stronger as you both knew, in that moment, that your love was only going to grow even further.

And as the fire crackled softly in the background, you both knew one thing for certain: a new chapter was beginning for you both. Together.

SILCO

It was late in the evening when Silco found himself watching you from across the room. You were sitting with Powder, laughing softly as the young girl showed you her latest creation—a makeshift toy made from scrap materials she’d found in the undercity. Powder’s face lit up with pride, and you, with your usual warmth, encouraged her with genuine admiration. Silco watched the scene unfold quietly from his seat, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the way you interacted with Powder. It was a bond he’d seen growing stronger with each passing day, and though he didn’t show it, it stirred something deep within him.

You had always been like a guiding force for Powder. She trusted you, adored you, and looked up to you in a way that only a daughter could. Silco had his own complicated feelings about it all—he'd never been one for sentimentality or nurturing, especially when it came to children. The thought of raising a child, having someone so vulnerable tied to him… it made his stomach turn.

He shifted in his chair, then stood and approached you, his gaze flickering between you and Powder for a moment before he spoke.

“Y/N,” Silco began, his voice steady but laced with an underlying seriousness, “there’s something I need to discuss with you.”

You turned your attention to him, a soft smile on your lips as you glanced from him to Powder. “What’s on your mind, Silco?”

He hesitated for a moment, then spoke again, his voice just a touch more guarded. “I’ve been thinking. About… children.”

You frowned, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. The seriousness in Silco’s tone made you wary, and you instinctively looked over at Powder. Her wide eyes were bouncing between you both, sensing the tension that was beginning to settle over the room.

“You should go get ready for bed, Powder,” you said softly, offering her a reassuring smile. “I’ll be with you in a minute, alright?”

Powder hesitated for a moment, her eyes flickering between you and Silco, before she nodded slowly. “Okay, Y/N,” she muttered, and with a last glance, she shuffled off toward her room, her footsteps growing quieter as she left the room.

Once the door clicked shut behind her, the air in the room felt heavier, and you turned back to Silco, your gaze now fixed on him with an unspoken understanding that the conversation had just shifted into something more serious.

Silco’s eyes never left you as he continued, his expression unreadable. “I’ve seen the way you care for Powder. The way you’ve taken her under your wing. And it’s…” He paused, almost unwilling to continue. “It’s admirable, the bond you share with her. But I want you to know this, Y/N…” He took a slow step closer, the intensity of his gaze unwavering. “I don’t want children. The thought of having a child, someone so vulnerable, tied to me… it’s a weakness. A risk. They could be used against me one day. I won’t allow that.””

You could feel the tension in the room rise as he spoke. You could see the vulnerability behind his eyes, the fear of losing control, and perhaps, in some twisted way, the self-awareness that having a child might be more than he could handle. And yet, it didn’t come as a surprise. Silco’s life had always been about control, power, and survival. The last thing he needed was someone to hold over him, to manipulate his emotions.

You took a deep breath, moving from your position on the floor to sit beside Silco, resting your hand gently on his leg. "You're not the only one who doesn't want children, Silco," you said softly.

His eyebrows raised in surprise. "What do you mean?"

You offered him a reassuring smile, your voice steady. "I’ve never really had the desire to have children of my own. Powder is the only daughter I need. She’s enough for me."

Silco’s eyes softened ever so slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching as if to form a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I suppose we both have our reasons."

You nodded, the weight of the conversation settling around you. "And those reasons are enough for me. Powder has always been the light in my life, and I’m happy with the family we’ve built. With you, with her, with everything we’ve worked for."

Silco regarded you for a long moment, his usual hard demeanour softening in the quiet of the room. He reached out, placing his hand gently over yours with a rare tenderness that made your heart skip.

"I respect that, love," he said quietly, his voice carrying more warmth than usual. "I can see how much she means to you. And how much you mean to her." His gaze flickered toward the door where Powder had gone off to bed, before returning to you. "I'm glad you're here. With me. With us."

Your smile deepened, warmth spreading through you despite the gravity of the conversation. "I’m glad, too, Silco."

The room fell into a long silence, but it was comforting, not uncomfortable. Both of you took in the truth of what had been said—no more, no less. The bond you shared, the family you had built, was more than enough. You didn’t need anything else.

"Good," Silco muttered after a pause, his usual commanding tone returning. "Then that’s settled."

You nodded, meeting his eyes with quiet conviction. "Yeah. It is."

And with that, the topic was closed—no resentment, no regret, just a mutual understanding between the two of you. You didn’t need a child to complete your family. You already had everything you needed in each other.

JINX/POWDER (PLATONIC!)

It was a quiet afternoon in the streets of Zaun, the sun casting an amber glow over the city as you wandered through the busy market, enjoying the calm between your usual chaotic routine. You had been picking up a few supplies, humming softly to yourself, when you noticed a small, frightened child standing near a stack of crates, eyes wide and scanning the crowd.

Instinctively, you approached the child, a gentle smile spreading across your face. “Hey there, you look lost,” you said, crouching down to their level. The child nodded, eyes brimming with tears, and you could see the desperation in their gaze.

“Don’t worry,” you reassured them softly, your voice warm. “Let’s find your parents, okay?”

The child clung to you as you took their hand, and as you made your way through the crowds, they became more and more comfortable in your presence, their grip on you loosening but still steady. The child’s fears slowly ebbed away, soothed by your steady presence. Eventually, you found the child’s parents near the merchant stalls, frantically scanning the crowd.

A tall woman with wild, auburn hair was the first to notice you approaching. Her expression softened with relief as you caught her gaze.

“Are you looking for someone?” you asked, glancing down at the child who had begun to tug at your shirt.

“Yes! My son!” The woman rushed toward you, and the child’s face lit up. Without another word, the child hopped off your hip and ran to their mother, clinging to her side.

“Oh thank you, thank you!” the woman said, tears welling up in her eyes as she held her child tight. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

The man beside her, who had been nervously pacing, stepped forward. His deep voice was shaky as he added, “We’ve been looking everywhere. We thought we lost him for good.” He turned to you with a grateful smile. “You’ve done more than we could have asked for.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied with a smile, your heart warming at the reunion. You nodded at them both. “Just happy to help.”

The woman reached out to pull you into a brief, heartfelt hug. “Thank you again. We’re in your debt.”

You returned the hug lightly, your thoughts drifting as you watched the mother and father take their child’s hand, walking together with him in tow. They waved as they walked away, and you waved back before turning to leave the scene.

It was in that moment that you heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps behind you, followed by an all-too-familiar voice, sharp and full of an edge you recognized.

“What’s this?” Jinx’s voice echoed from behind, full of suspicion. “You just making friends with every little rat in the city now?”

You turned around to see her standing there, arms crossed, a scowl on her face as her eyes fixed not on you, but on the small child who had been clinging to you moments before.

Jinx’s gaze was icy, her brow furrowed as she narrowed her eyes at the child as they walk away with their parents. She took a slow step forward, the usual manic energy in her movements tempered by something else — jealousy. And that was a rare sight.

“Why’s was that kid clinging onto you like you’re his new mom?” Jinx sneered, her voice dripping with possessiveness, the insecurity in her words biting deeper than she likely intended. She shifted uncomfortably, hands fidgeting with the straps of her weapon as her gaze shists to you. Her foot tapped impatiently against the ground, and you could see her cheeks flush with frustration.

You raised an eyebrow, sensing the tension in the air, but also the deeper discomfort simmering beneath her words. “I was just helping them find their parents, Jinx. Nothing more to it.”

"Right," she muttered under her breath, her jealousy almost palpable now. “I see how it is. Just another kid looking for a mother figure while I... get left behind. Not enough room for me, huh?”

Her words hit harder than you expected, and for a split second, you felt a pang of regret for the situation, as if somehow you had betrayed her by offering your care to someone else. But then, you remembered who you were to Jinx — and who she was to you.

You took a deep breath, your eyes flickering to Jinx, who had taken a few steps closer, her posture tense and guarded, like she was expecting a confrontation.

“Jinx…” you began, your voice soft but with the weight of sincerity. “You know I care about you. That kid… they needed someone, and I just helped. It doesn’t change anything between us.”

Jinx’s expression faltered for a moment, and she looked away, biting her lip as she avoided meeting your gaze. There was a long pause before she muttered, her voice barely audible, “I know... It’s just, I... I don’t like seeing anyone else taking your attention. It’s like... you’re spreading yourself thin, and I’m afraid there won’t be enough of you for me.”

You took a step closer, your heart aching as you read the vulnerability in her words. Gently, you cupped her cheek, guiding her face to meet yours. “You’re my priority, Jinx. Always.”

Her eyes softened, a flicker of gratitude passing through the storm of emotions that she usually kept hidden. She let out a soft sigh, her usual wildness dimming as she allowed herself to relax for just a moment.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her hands falling loosely at her sides, her expression more like the girl you knew — Powder. The one who wanted to be tough, but deep down just wanted to be cared for.

You smiled warmly at her, your thumb brushing her cheek tenderly. “Don’t be. You never have to apologize for needing me. And you’ll always have my attention when you need it.”

A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she finally let her guard down a bit more. The jealousy, while still lingering beneath the surface, was no longer as intense. She knew, deep down, that your bond was something that couldn’t be easily replaced or shared with anyone else.

Jinx huffed softly, a touch of her usual playful spark returning as she bumped her shoulder against yours. “Yeah, well, you better not go getting attached to every little lost kid running around.”

You chuckled, leaning into her shoulder for a brief moment. “I’ll try to keep my ‘motherly instincts’ in check for you, alright?”

“Good,” she said, her tone a mix of relief and mischief. “But if you’re gonna start collecting kids, at least pick the cool ones, yeah?”

You laughed softly, rolling your eyes but feeling lighter. “I’ll keep that in mind, Jinx.”

And as you both walked away from the market, side by side, you knew this was just another layer of your relationship with Jinx — an unspoken understanding that no matter the jealousy or misunderstandings, you would always be there for each other, no matter what.

[aspenmissing]

ᴀʀᴄᴀɴᴇ: ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛɪɴɢ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ-ɪꜱʜ

3311 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜰɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴀɴᴅ/ᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ.

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx/ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ

JAYCE

The workshop hummed with the sound of gears turning and tools clattering, the faint scent of oil and metal hanging in the air. Jayce was in his element, bent over the prototype for a new hextech device, his muscles flexing as he tightened a bolt with a wrench. Y/N leaned against his desk, watching him work, a teasing smile playing on their lips.

“Y’know,” Y/N quipped, “for a guy who’s built like a brick wall, you still manage to look like a puppy concentrating on its first puzzle.”

Jayce shot them a mock glare but couldn’t hide the small chuckle. “A puppy that’s about to change the world,” he countered, brushing grease off his hands. “Don’t distract me.”

The moment of levity was interrupted by a sharp, high-pitched chittering sound. Both their heads snapped toward the corner of the workshop, where a blur of skittering legs darted across the floor.

“Oh, no.” Jayce froze, his confident demeanor crumbling as the creature came into view—a massive, hairy spider the size of a dinner plate. “Nope. Nope. That thing is not staying in here.”

Y/N blinked, stunned. “Wait, that’s what you’re freaking out about? Jayce, you’ve literally fought off Piltovan thugs with nothing but your fists. This is just a spider.”

Jayce was already halfway behind Y/N, his large hands gripping their shoulders. “I can punch a thug. I can’t punch that. What if it crawls up my arm? What if it—oh, gods, what if it jumps?”

“Jayce Talis,” Y/N said with mock exasperation, glancing over their shoulder at the towering man, “you’re six feet of pure muscle and you’re hiding behind me? This is embarrassing for both of us.”

The spider, seemingly emboldened by Jayce’s retreat, scurried closer. Jayce flinched, his grip tightening on Y/N. “Okay, okay, just kill it or throw something! Please!”

Rolling their eyes, Y/N grabbed the nearest object—a rolled-up schematic—and approached the spider with exaggerated caution, partly to mess with Jayce. “Relax, hero. I’ll save you from the big, bad bug.”

With a swift motion, Y/N swatted the spider, sending it tumbling toward an open window. The creature landed on the sill, paused for dramatic effect, and finally disappeared into the city beyond.

Y/N turned back, arms spread in triumph. “There. The beast is vanquished. You may now return to your work, my fair knight.”

Jayce let out a long breath, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment. “You’re never letting me live this down, are you?”

“Not a chance,” Y/N grinned, poking his chest. “You’re lucky I’m here to protect you, big guy.”

Jayce groaned but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips. He pulled Y/N into a quick hug, muttering, “My hero,” before returning to his work, albeit with a wary glance toward the window every so often.

VIKTOR

The dim light of Piltover’s laboratory district cast long shadows across the cobblestone streets. Y/N was on their way to deliver Viktor a stack of documents he'd requested, braving the late hour at his insistence that their findings were urgent. The streets were quieter than usual, save for the occasional hum of distant machinery or the clatter of boots on stone.

As Y/N approached the entrance to the lab, a low voice echoed from the shadows behind them.

“Well, well. Out a bit late, aren’t you?”

Turning sharply, Y/N spotted a man emerging from the alley, his face partially obscured but his posture unmistakably menacing. Another figure stepped out to his left, smirking as he cracked his knuckles.

“Not the best place for a stroll,” the second one said, his voice dripping with malice.

Y/N’s breath hitched, their grip tightening on the documents. They took a step back, heart pounding, and glanced toward the lab. A warm glow spilled from the windows—a beacon of safety if they could just get inside.

“Don’t even think about running,” the first man growled, stepping closer.

“Get away from them!”

The sharp voice cut through the tension like a blade. Viktor stepped into view, his cane tapping rhythmically against the ground. Despite his limp, he moved with purpose, golden eyes blazing with determination.

The thugs faltered for a moment, clearly surprised.

“And who’re you supposed to be? Their bodyguard?” one sneered, though his tone betrayed unease.

Viktor’s grip tightened on his cane, his expression hardening. “You will leave them alone,” he said, his voice low and unwavering. “Now.”

The first man snorted, lunging toward Viktor. But Viktor was quicker than they expected. He swung his cane with surprising force, striking the thug’s leg and sending him staggering.

“Stay behind me, Y/N,” Viktor said firmly, positioning himself between them and the attackers.

The second thug charged, but Viktor was ready. With a calculated step, he sidestepped the attack, using his cane to unbalance the man and send him crashing to the ground.

The first thug scrambled to his feet, glaring at Viktor. “You’ll regret this,” he spat before grabbing his companion and retreating into the shadows.

For a moment, the street was silent except for Y/N’s quickened breathing. Viktor turned to them, his stern expression softening.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

Y/N nodded, their hands trembling slightly. “I… I think so. Thank you, Viktor. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t shown up.”

Viktor’s lips curved into a small, reassuring smile as he reached out, his slender fingers gently wrapping around her trembling hands. The warmth of his touch steadied her, grounding her in the moment. “I am just glad I was nearby. Piltover may shine bright, but even its shadows can be dangerous.” He paused, studying them. “You should not have come alone. Next time, send for me.”

Y/N nodded, warmth blooming in their chest despite the lingering fear. Viktor’s protective nature was always understated, but in this moment, it felt like a shield, steadfast and unyielding.

“Let’s get inside,” Viktor said gently, gesturing toward the lab. “You can explain what was so urgent once you’ve had a chance to breathe.”

As they stepped into the light, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a new sense of safety, knowing Viktor would always be there to protect them.

JAYVIK

The lab buzzed with quiet activity, the hum of Hextech crystals resonating in the air. Y/N worked at the center station, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she adjusted the array of lenses for their latest experiment. Viktor stood beside her, leaning on his cane, a rare smile tugging at his lips as he offered suggestions.

“This alignment should amplify the crystal’s energy tenfold,” Viktor said, his golden gaze gleaming with anticipation.

Y/N nodded, sharing his enthusiasm. “Exactly. If we time it just right, we’ll create a stable energy flow. It could change everything.”

Jayce, watching from across the room, frowned. “Are you two sure about this? That crystal looks ready to blow at the slightest mistake.”

“It will be fine, Jayce,” Viktor replied, waving him off. “We have accounted for every variable.”

“And this setup is flawless,” Y/N added confidently. “Just watch.”

But the warning signs were subtle—too subtle to catch in time. A spark jumped from the crystal, striking the array. The lenses shattered, and the lab was bathed in an ominous blue glow. The surge of energy crackled, fast and unforgiving, surging toward Y/N and Viktor.

“Y/N! Viktor!”

Jayce moved in an instant. Vaulting over the workbench, he shoved them both out of harm’s way. Viktor stumbled, catching himself on his cane, while Y/N landed heavily against a shelf. Jayce turned to shield them both as the crystal exploded with a deafening crack.

The blast wasn’t as violent as feared, but the force knocked Jayce to the ground. The aftermath left a haze of smoke and the acrid scent of scorched metal hanging in the air.

“Jayce!” Y/N scrambled to his side, her hands trembling as she checked him for injuries. “Are you okay?”

Jayce groaned, pushing himself up on one elbow. “I’m fine. Just… next time, maybe listen when I say it looks dangerous?”

Viktor limped over, coughing slightly but otherwise unharmed. “That was reckless, Jayce. You could have been seriously injured.” His voice held a mix of frustration and gratitude.

“Someone had to step in,” Jayce replied, flashing a tired smile.

Y/N exhaled shakily, helping him to his feet. “Thank you, Jayce. You saved us.”

Jayce rested a hand on her shoulder, his expression softening. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

“And next time,” Viktor added, glancing between them, “we’ll ensure no one needs to play the hero. Safety measures first.”

“Agreed,” Y/N said, her voice firm, though the gratitude in her eyes lingered as she met Jayce’s gaze.

Jayce smirked, his hand lingering over hers. “Fine. But don’t think I won’t keep an eye on you two.”

Between Jayce’s protectiveness and Viktor’s careful planning, Y/N felt a rare and cherished sense of safety—one she would never take for granted.

VANDER

The Last Drop was bustling as always, voices rising in a chaotic medley of laughter, arguments, and the clinking of glasses. Vander moved with practiced ease, the hulking man weaving through the crowd to check on patrons, break up the occasional spat, and lend a hand wherever needed.

You were behind the counter, sleeves rolled up as you juggled pouring drinks and taking orders. The lively atmosphere didn’t bother you much—it was part of the charm of the Undercity, and working alongside Vander always made the chaos worthwhile.

“Y/N!” Vander called, his gravelly voice cutting through the noise. You glanced up to see him gesturing toward the back. “Can you grab some more glasses and the case of rum from the pantry? We’re runnin’ low.”

“On it!” you replied, setting down your rag and slipping past him. As you brushed by, his hand briefly rested on your shoulder, a quiet but affectionate acknowledgment.

The pantry was tucked in the back, shelves packed with various supplies. It wasn’t the most organized space, but you’d managed to navigate it before. You stepped inside and began grabbing what was needed: the case of rum, a few boxes of cocktail ingredients, and a stack of clean glasses.

The rustling as you reached for one of the higher shelves echoed through the pantry. You stretched further, trying to grab a box teetering at the very top. As you pulled it down, something shifted above.

A faint creak and scrape caught your attention, but before you could look up, the weight of a heavy wooden crate loomed. It tipped forward, hurtling straight down.

“Y/N!”

Vander’s voice was the first thing you registered before his broad form appeared at the doorway, moving faster than you thought someone of his size could. In one fluid motion, he threw his arm over your head, catching the brunt of the falling crate. His other hand knocked it aside, sending it crashing harmlessly to the floor with a loud thud.

You stumbled back, eyes wide as the shock of what just happened sank in. Vander remained where he was, arm still braced protectively above you. His chest heaved with a sharp intake of breath as he glanced down at you, concern etched into his rugged features.

“You alright?” he asked, his deep voice softer than usual.

You nodded, swallowing hard as your heart raced. “Y-Yeah, thanks to you.”

He lowered his arm and let out a relieved sigh, his tense posture easing. “Damn supplier, I told them to make sure the crates were put properly on the shelf” he muttered, casting a glare at the offending object. His eyes flicked back to you, scanning you over as if to double-check for injuries. “You gotta be more careful back here, love. Could’ve been bad.”

“I didn’t realize it was so unstable,” you admitted, shaking your head. “I should’ve paid more attention.”

“Nah,” Vander said, stepping closer and cupping your face with a calloused hand. “Ain’t your fault. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe.” His thumb brushed gently against your cheek. “Lucky I caught it in time.”

The closeness of him, the way his voice softened just for you, made your cheeks flush. Despite the scare, you couldn’t help but smile.

“Guess I owe you one,” you said, placing a hand over his where it rested on your face.

Vander chuckled, the sound low and reassuring. “You already do enough around here. Just promise me you’ll holler next time you need somethin’ from the top shelf, yeah?”

“Promise,” you replied, your grin widening.

He gave you one last look, his expression a mixture of affection and lingering worry, before pulling you into a brief but warm embrace. “C’mon,” he murmured against your hair. “Let’s get back before they burn the place down without us.”

With Vander’s arm slung protectively over your shoulders, the two of you left the pantry together. And though the Last Drop’s chaos hadn’t abated, you felt a little more grounded knowing he’d always be there to catch you when it mattered most.

SILCO

The Undercity always carried the stench of betrayal, but tonight, it was worse. Silco stood by the window of his office, his mismatched eyes scanning the chaos outside. The shimmer of neon lights reflected off the glass as shouts and gunfire echoed in the distance. The deal with the Chem-Barons had gone sideways, and now retaliation was inevitable.

Y/N stepped into the room, her boots clinking against the floor as she approached him. “They’re moving faster than we thought. Enforcers, thugs—it’s a mess out there,” she said, gripping the hilt of the dagger at her side.

Silco turned, his face a calm mask despite the storm brewing outside. “They’ll come for me first. They always do.”

“Then they’ll find me standing in their way,” Y/N replied, her voice steady and sure.

A rare flicker of something softened Silco’s sharp gaze. “You don’t owe me this.”

Y/N smirked, leaning against the desk. “Maybe not. But you’ve saved me more times than I can count. Besides, I’m not about to let you handle this alone.”

The first explosion rattled the walls, shaking dust from the rafters. Silco grabbed his revolver, tucking it into his coat. “Then let’s make sure they regret their decision.”

=

The fight erupted in the darkened corridors of the Last Drop. Smoke filled the air as bullets whizzed past. Y/N was a force of nature, darting between attackers with her blade, her movements fluid and deliberate. When one thug lunged at Silco, she was there, her dagger plunging into his side before he could strike.

“Focus!” she shouted over the chaos, her eyes meeting Silco’s for a brief moment.

Silco, despite his usual distaste for direct combat, held his own. He aimed with precision, each shot taking down a would-be assailant. When Y/N found herself cornered by two brutes, he stepped forward, firing a round into one and cracking the other over the head with the butt of his gun.

“You’re reckless,” he hissed, grabbing her arm and pulling her back into cover.

“Look who’s talking,” she retorted, her breath coming in sharp gasps.

The two shared a fleeting grin before a new wave of enemies surged forward.

=

When the dust finally settled, the air was thick with the smell of gunpowder and sweat. The last of their attackers lay motionless, and the bar was in shambles. Silco slumped against the wall, his hand pressed to a gash on his shoulder. Y/N knelt beside him, tearing a strip of fabric from her sleeve to bandage the wound.

“You’re lucky they didn’t aim better,” she muttered, tying the makeshift bandage tight.

Silco chuckled dryly. “And you’re lucky I was watching your back.”

Y/N met his gaze, her expression softening. “Always.”

For a moment, the weight of the Undercity’s darkness lifted. They had survived another night together, their loyalty to each other unshaken.

“Come on,” Y/N said, helping him to his feet. “We’ve got a mess to clean up.”

Silco leaned on her slightly as they walked. “It’s always a mess in Zaun. But with you, I can handle it.”

And in the shadows of the Undercity, they stood as each other’s shields—unbreakable, unyielding, and fiercely protective.

POWDER/JINX

The sound of crackling glass and twisted metal echoed through the ruined streets of Zaun. The air was thick with the smell of smoke, and the dim flicker of streetlights barely lit the chaos around them. Jinx was pacing back and forth, her wild eyes scanning the area, her fingers twitching nervously as if she were on the edge of something.

“Y/N, this place is so fun,” Jinx giggled, her voice echoing with manic energy. “It's a playground for all of us!”

But you could sense something was off. The usual playful madness in her voice was clouded by something deeper, more dangerous. You knew Jinx all too well—when the chaos and explosions weren’t enough to keep her occupied, it meant something far worse was brewing inside her.

"Stay close, Jinx," you said, your voice low and firm, as you stepped closer to her. The familiar weight of the dagger hidden at your side reassured you, but it wasn't just the weapon that kept you calm—it was the responsibility you felt for her. She was more than just an explosive whirlwind to you. She was the girl you protected, the one you'd do anything to keep safe.

Her eyes darted to you, still wild, but there was a flicker of vulnerability beneath the madness. “Don’t worry about me, Y/N! I’m fine! No one can stop me!”

But before you could respond, a group of enforcers emerged from the shadows. They moved swiftly, surrounding you and Jinx. They were not just any enforcers, either. These were the ones who'd been hunting her for months—the ones who saw Jinx as a threat to their fragile order in the undercity. And now they had her in their sights.

"Move, Jinx!" you barked, pulling her back protectively. You placed yourself between her and the approaching soldiers, your stance firm and unyielding. "Not today."

One of the enforcers sneered, raising his weapon. "Step aside. You know we can’t let her go free."

You felt your heart racing, but you didn’t hesitate. Your hand hovered over the hilt of your dagger, ready to defend her with everything you had. Jinx, seeing the confrontation, froze, her usual chaotic energy replaced with a strange sense of attachment to you.

“Y/N…?” Her voice was quieter now, almost unsure.

“No one is touching you, Jinx,” you whispered, your tone soft yet unyielding. “Not on my watch.”

Before the enforcers could make another move, you lunged forward, your dagger flashing in the dim light. The first enforcer’s weapon was knocked from his hands, and you quickly incapacitated him with a well-placed strike. The others hesitated, unsure of whether to engage or retreat. You could see the fear in their eyes, but you weren’t about to give them the chance.

With a quick glance to Jinx, you noticed the faintest glimmer of relief in her eyes. She stepped forward, her usual mania gone for a moment, replaced by a deep trust. She didn't need to be told what to do. She picked up a nearby bomb and threw it with a wild grin, her laughter ringing out as the explosion sent the remaining enforcers scattering.

“Nice job, Jinx,” you said, giving her a small, approving nod. She beamed at you, her previous anxiety melting away as she clung to your side.

“You’re the best, Y/N,” she said, her voice laced with genuine gratitude. Her chaotic persona might’ve been what others saw, but you saw the frightened girl behind it, the one who trusted you more than anyone else in this world.

You gave her a smile, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “And I’ll always protect you, no matter what.”

[aspenmissing]

ᴀʀᴄᴀɴᴇ: ɴɪɢʜᴛᴍᴀʀᴇꜱ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ || ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ/ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ

7092 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ/ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ/ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ (ɪɴ ɴɪɢʜᴛᴍᴀʀᴇꜱ), ᴏᴏᴄ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴏᴜʀ ʙᴏʏꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴏᴜꜱ 'ᴅɪᴅ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡʀᴏɴɢ' ɢɪʀʟ ʜᴀꜱ ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴀ ɴɪɢʜᴛᴍᴀʀᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ʏ/ɴ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴀ ɴɪɢʜᴛᴍᴀʀᴇ. ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴅᴏ?

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ/ᴊɪɴx

JAYCE

The hum of Hextech lamps cast a soft glow over the room, their sapphire light painting gentle shadows on the walls. Jayce’s chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm as he slept, his head nestled against the pillow. Yet, beneath his peaceful exterior, his mind was caught in a turbulent storm, ensnared by the grip of a vivid nightmare.

He stood in a crumbling hall, Hextech crystals sparking wildly as chaos erupted around him. Explosions rang out, the air thick with smoke and panic. Jayce frantically scanned the room, searching for her. "Y/N!" he called, his voice hoarse with desperation. In the haze, he caught sight of her—her figure outlined in the flickering blue light, trapped behind a wall of collapsing debris. She was shouting something, but the words were drowned out by the cacophony. He pushed forward, trying to reach her, but his legs felt heavy, as though weighed down by unseen chains. The world seemed to close in, the edges of his vision darkening as she disappeared from view.

“No!” Jayce shouted, bolting upright in bed.

His chest heaved as he struggled to steady his breathing, the dream’s intensity leaving his heart racing. For a moment, he couldn’t discern reality from nightmare. The faint crackle of the lamps and the soft rustle of sheets grounded him, pulling him back to the present.

Y/N lays peacefully beside him, her face calm and serene in the dim light. One arm was tucked under her head, the other resting lightly on the blanket that rose and fell with her steady breathing. Jayce’s shoulders sagged with relief, and he raked a hand through his hair, damp with sweat.

He shifted quietly, not wanting to disturb her, and leaned back against the headboard. Even though she was safe, the lingering dread clung to him. He reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Her lips parted slightly as she exhaled a soft sigh, her head tilting toward his touch. The small movement sent a wave of warmth through his chest, momentarily chasing away the nightmare’s shadows.

Jayce let out a shaky breath, his hand retreating to rest on his knee. Despite the comfort of her presence, the fear gnawed at the edges of his mind. What if the dream was a warning? What if he couldn’t protect her when it truly mattered?

The weight of his responsibilities pressed heavily on him. Hextech had revolutionized Piltover, but it had also drawn enemies—people who would stop at nothing to exploit its power. The thought of her being caught in the crossfire was a fear he rarely voiced but carried constantly.

He glanced down at her again, his expression softening. In sleep, she looked untouched by the worries of the world, her features illuminated by the faint glow of the lamps.

Unable to help himself, Jayce reached for her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. The contact steadied him, grounding him in the present.

“Jayce?” her voice was groggy, her eyes fluttering open. She blinked up at him, concern lacing her sleepy tone. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he murmured quickly, though his voice betrayed the remnants of his fear. “Go back to sleep.”

Y/N propped herself up on one elbow, her brows knitting together. “You’re not okay,” she said softly, her gaze searching his face. “Was it a nightmare?”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. About you.”

Her expression shifted to one of tender understanding as she reached out, cupping his cheek. Her touch was warm, anchoring him further in the moment. “I’m right here,” she whispered. “Safe and sound.”

Jayce closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “I know. It just felt so real. I thought I lost you.”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” she teased gently, her lips quirking into a small smile.

A soft laugh escaped him, the tension in his chest easing slightly. He opened his eyes to meet hers, the warmth in her gaze chasing away the lingering darkness.

“Lie down,” she urged, tugging lightly on his arm.

She tugged him gently, guiding him to lie back down beside her. Sliding her arms around him, she pulled him close, his head nestled against her chest. Resting her chin atop his hair, she held him tightly, her embrace warm and protective. His arms wrapped around her waist in return, their legs tangled together beneath the blankets, anchoring them in each other’s presence.

“You don’t have to carry everything alone,” she said, her voice a soothing murmur. “I’m here for you, no matter what.”

Jayce exhaled deeply, her words wrapping around him like a balm. “I don’t deserve you,” he said quietly, his tone filled with both awe and gratitude.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she replied with a soft laugh. “You’re stuck with me.”

He smiled, pressing a light kiss to her collarbone “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As her breathing slowed and steadied, Jayce found himself attuned to the gentle rise and fall of her chest beneath him, the rhythmic thrum of her heartbeat filling his ears. It was the very essence of her life, grounding him in a way words never could.

The nightmare still lingered at the edges of his mind, but it felt distant now, diminished in the presence of her warmth and vitality.

With her heartbeat as his lullaby, Jayce allowed himself to relax, the steady rhythm of her life lulling him into a peaceful sleep.

VIKTOR

The soft glow of the moon filtered through the cracked blinds, casting long shadows across Viktor’s desk. His hands moved with practiced precision, adjusting wires and fitting delicate pieces together.

But fatigue crept up on him, his eyelids heavy with exhaustion. He tried to push it away, but the weariness was too much. Viktor leaned forward, resting his head on his arms, closing his eyes for just a moment. The room was still, the quiet air surrounding him like a blanket. For a brief instant, he let himself drift, succumbing to the quiet pull of sleep.

They had once sat here together, in this very room, side by side, each lost in their own worlds but enveloped in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence. She would bring him tea, or cookies, or simply sit beside him, reading, waiting, the kind of waiting only someone who loved him could do. But lately, the warmth between them had begun to fade. The laughter had turned into silence, and the moments of peace between them were fewer, more distant. The clatter of metal on metal snapped Viktor from his thoughts, but it was all wrong—too loud, too sharp, too sudden. His breath caught, and his chest tightened as the memory of her voice surged forward, as if it had always been there, lurking. "I can’t keep doing this, Viktor." Her voice was clearer now, too real, too sharp. It echoed, distorting, ringing in his ears. The weight of those words pulled him under, deeper and deeper. Her face flickered in front of him, her eyes wide with something he couldn’t name, something both familiar and alien. He had only nodded—empty, distracted—and her departure had been quick, like a shadow vanishing at dusk. The door had closed behind her with a soft, final click, and Viktor had stayed, frozen, his eyes staring at the empty space where she had been just moments before. The room around him began to shift, bending and warping in an unnatural way. The corners seemed to stretch, the walls pressing in on him, folding like paper. His hands trembled as he reached for something, anything, to anchor himself, but the tools on his desk scattered like leaves in the wind, spilling across the floor in a chaotic blur. Her bags—he hadn’t noticed before. They were packed, sitting by the door. She was gone. Gone. The panic tightened around his throat, a vise that made it hard to breathe, to think. "I can’t do this, Viktor." The words pierced through him like a cold blade. They didn’t sound like they had before, though. They felt like a melody, haunting and sweet in their finality. The guilt... it surged, flooding him from every direction. His mind swirled with thoughts—too many thoughts—crashing together like a storm. And he could hear them. The footsteps. Soft. Steady. But when he turned— Nothing. Nothing but the empty room. No warmth. No soft laugh. No teasing. Just the hollow echo of silence where she should have been. “Miláčku?” His voice was barely a whisper, his chest so tight he could hardly draw air. His heart pounded as if trying to escape, and his vision blurred. The room, the entire world, seemed to shrink in on him, as if the space was closing, folding inward, trapping him. His hands were shaking, and before he could stop himself, he knocked over a glass of water. It spilled, cascading over the papers on his desk, but the liquid seemed to melt into the wood, disappearing as if it had never existed. (Darling) The machinery hummed around him now, louder, frantic, as if it, too, was desperate for something, but Viktor couldn’t focus on it. He couldn’t think. All he could hear were her words, echoing, replaying endlessly in his head. “I’m sorry, Viktor. I can’t do this anymore.” His vision warped, the edges of reality distorting, twisting like smoke curling in the wind. He could see her—her face, her eyes, but they weren’t right. They were too far away, out of his reach, slipping through his fingers. The more he reached for them, the farther they seemed to go. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t—

Viktor awoke with a start, a sharp gasp escaping his lips as he shot up from the desk. His body trembled as he fought to calm his rapid breaths. For a moment, he couldn’t tell what was real—was he still dreaming? His heart raced in his chest, the remnants of his nightmare lingering like a shadow on his mind.

But as his eyes adjusted, he realized he wasn’t in his workshop. The familiar soft glow of the moon filtered through the window, casting gentle shadows across the room. The air was calm, carrying the soothing scent of lavender and cinnamon. The warmth of the space wrapped around him, much different from the cold sterility of his workroom.

Viktor sat up, disoriented, struggling to shake off the lingering unease of the vivid dream. It had felt so real—so painfully real. A heartbreak he feared might be inevitable. He rubbed his eyes, grounding himself, and as his gaze swept around the room, familiar sights began to settle him. The small desk in the corner, the hand-painted mug they’d chosen together, the photo of the two of them at Piltover’s Grand Exhibition—moments they had shared, reminders of a life they were still building.

But what truly grounded him was the soft weight of a blanket draped around his shoulders. He hadn’t even realized he’d been covered, but there it was, warm and comforting, a small gesture he hadn’t even thought to question.

As he shifted, his gaze drifted to the desk. There, on the surface, sat a plate of cookies—freshly baked, golden brown, and just the way he liked them. Beside it, a glass of milk, still cool to the touch, shimmered in the soft light. Next to both, a small note, written in neat, delicate handwriting, rested gently against the plate.

'I saw you sleeping at your desk, and I didn’t want to wake you—you looked like you really needed the rest. But whenever you’re ready, please come to bed and join me. I’ll be waiting for you.' Love, Y/N x

His fingers hovered over the note, the words sinking into his mind as his chest tightened. She was here. She hadn’t left him. She was still with him, still cared enough to leave him this small comfort. She hadn’t given up. The relief was almost overwhelming, and for the first time in what felt like ages, Viktor allowed himself to breathe. He wasn’t alone. He hadn’t lost her.

His heart ached with the weight of the dream lifting from his shoulders. The nightmare, the fear of losing her, melted away with the soft, familiar warmth of her presence in the room. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d allowed himself to feel this grounded, this safe.

With a small, grateful smile, he carefully stood from the desk, his legs still weak from the hours spent hunched over his work. The blanket, now draped around his shoulders, gave him a comforting sense of reassurance as he moved toward the plate of cookies and milk. He picked it up, the warmth of the gesture filling him with a kind of solace he hadn’t realized he so desperately needed.

He made his way back to the desk, eyes tracing the note once more, the words sinking deep into his soul. The quiet, loving message reminded him of the one thing he could never lose sight of—her. And with that simple reminder, Viktor felt the pull of the warmth, the light, and the love waiting for him just beyond the door.

A quiet promise echoed in his mind as he set the plate down gently. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again. This time, he’d find the balance. This time, he’d cherish what mattered most.

Slowly, he made his way to the bedroom. To Y/N. To the life they still had. To the love he almost lost but now vowed never to take for granted again.

JAYVIK

Y/N stood at the edge of Piltover, the skyline a jagged silhouette against a blood-red sky. The air was thick with smoke, the scent of burning metal and decay. The once-bustling streets were now silent, save for the distant crackle of fire and the echoes of chaos. Her heart raced as she turned, searching for the only two people she cared about—Viktor and Jayce. “Viktor!” she shouted, but the words were swallowed by the flames. "Jayce!" She ran, her feet pounding the cracked streets, fear gripping her chest. The city she had loved, that they had all fought for, was crumbling. The walls were torn apart, buildings collapsing into rubble. The smoke thickened, and her breath caught in her throat. She found them—Viktor and Jayce, standing together but broken. Viktor’s face was pale, his hands stained with blood, his body shaking. Jayce, his armor battered, was barely standing, but his eyes were locked in determination. Behind them, a monstrous shadow rose. It loomed over Viktor and Jayce, a grotesque blend of technology and organic matter. The figure was a manifestation of all the choices they had made, all the things they had failed to understand, all the mistakes that had brought them to this moment. “No!” Y/N cried, rushing toward them, but she couldn’t reach them in time. The creature swung its arm, knocking them both to the ground. Blood spilled onto the broken street, and their bodies lay motionless, eyes wide with pain. Her voice broke as she called to them, her heart shattering in her chest. "Please, don’t leave me." But they didn’t respond. The shadowed figure loomed over them, and everything was slipping away. The world around her shattered like glass, the city crumbling beneath the weight of their failures. She tried to move, to save them, but it was too late. The nightmare consumed her, and all she could hear was the sound of her own heart breaking.

Y/N’s eyes snapped open, her heart racing in her chest as she gasped for breath. She was drenched in sweat, the vivid images of her nightmare still lingering in the corners of her mind. The dream had been so real—so horribly real. She had seen Piltover burning, the cries of the city echoing in her ears, the destruction of everything they had fought for. She had seen both Jayce and Viktor—her heart twisted at the memory of them, bloodied, broken, caught in the aftermath of their ambitions and choices. The sound of metal clashing, the weight of betrayal, the crushing guilt—it all tangled together, suffocating her.

As her breathing steadied, she slowly became aware of the warmth beside her. She shifted slightly, her eyes blinking against the faint light of the room. Jayce’s arm was draped over her, his strong, protective hold comforting despite the chaos of her dream. His face was relaxed in slumber, a soft, steady rhythm to his breathing.

But then, she felt the soft warmth against the side of her head. Viktor. He had always been an enigma, but somehow, he was there, his face resting beside hers, his presence both soothing and intense. She could hear his faint breathing, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he slept, the sound of it grounding her as much as it reminded her of how precarious their situation truly was.

Her mind raced, the nightmare still clinging to her like a shadow. She had to get up. Had to escape it, even for just a moment.

Slowly, quietly, Y/N slipped from under Jayce’s arm, trying not to disturb either of them. She padded softly across the room, her bare feet barely making a sound on the wooden floor. The air felt cool against her skin as she reached the kitchen, the dim glow of the city’s lights filtering through the window.

She wasn’t sure what she needed—a drink, a distraction, anything to calm the fear still pulsing through her. She poured herself a glass of water, her hands trembling slightly as she brought it to her lips. But even the water couldn’t seem to wash away the lingering images of the dream.

Y/N took a seat at the kitchen table, her eyes unfocused as she stared out the window. The sounds of the city seemed muffled, distant. She couldn’t shake the feeling of dread, the gnawing fear that somehow, they would all be consumed by their own actions. She didn’t know if she could save them—if she could save herself.

The chair creaked softly as Viktor appeared in the doorway, his figure framed by the dim light. His sharp eyes softened the moment they landed on her, sensing the tension that gripped her. He paused for a brief moment, then stepped into the room, the gentle tap of his cane against the floor the only sound breaking the stillness.

“Miláčku?” he said, his voice quiet but filled with a steady calm. His presence seemed to settle the air around them. “Is everything alright?” (Sweetheart)

Y/N bit her lip, fighting back the surge of emotion rising in her chest. She didn’t want to burden them, not after everything they had endured together. But Viktor’s understanding gaze and Jayce’s silent presence beside him made her hesitate, and the walls she’d tried to keep up started to crumble.

Jayce’s voice came next, groggy but reassuring, “You know we’re here for you, right?” He stepped forward, his eyes soft with concern, despite the sleep still lingering in his voice. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it on your own.”

Y/N turned to them, the warmth in their eyes cracking through her defences. She didn’t want to drag them into her nightmare, but the weight of it still clung to her, suffocating and real.

“I had a nightmare,” she admitted softly, her voice wavering. “I saw Piltover burning… And I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t save either of you.”

The room fell silent, the only sound the quiet breathing of the three of them. Viktor’s gaze softened, his hand moving slowly toward her, sitting down on the chair besides her. His voice, gentle and steady, broke the silence.

“It was just a dream,” he said, his tone low and soothing. He laid his hand over your shaking one, gently stroking his thumb over your knuckles. “You won’t lose us. We’ve faced so much together already, and we’ll face whatever comes next as one.”

Jayce moved closer, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to carry that fear, Y/N. We’re in this together. Always.”

Y/N felt the weight of her fear slowly start to lift, their words wrapping around her like a blanket. The nightmare still lingered in her mind, the terror of losing them and the city’s destruction still echoing in her thoughts. But in that moment, with Viktor and Jayce beside her, the fear seemed more manageable.

The nightmare hadn’t come true—at least, not yet.

And with them by her side, she knew she wouldn’t have to face it alone.

VANDER

Vander lay in the grip of a nightmare, his body tense, his mind trapped in a place where everything felt suffocatingly wrong. His breathing was shallow, heart hammering in his chest as the dream unfolded with horrifying clarity.

He saw Y/N, helpless before him. Her face streaked with tears, her body trembling as she desperately tried to shield herself from the relentless blows raining down on her. He could feel the weight of the world pressing on him, his body frozen, trapped beneath some invisible force. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he willed himself to move, he couldn’t reach her. He couldn’t stop the pain she was enduring. Her cries of desperation echoed in his ears, each one a haunting reminder of his failure. He was bound, unable to protect her, unable to save her. The sound of her cries—soft but desperate—echoed in his ears. The fear in her eyes, the pain that twisted her features, tore at him, but he was paralyzed, unable to protect her. Each strike against her sent a shard of guilt deep into his chest. I should’ve been there. I should’ve stopped it. This is my fault. Her eyes locked with his, filled with pain and fear. Please, Vander... help me. But he could do nothing. He could only watch as she crumpled to the ground, unable to shield herself anymore. The guilt he felt was all-consuming, the weight of his failure crushing him from the inside out. I should’ve been there. I should’ve kept her safe. I’m the one who failed. The scene before him blurred, fading into darkness as the last echoes of her cry resonated in his mind. The nightmare swallowed him whole, until he was surrounded by the silence of his own fear, broken only by the frantic pounding of his heart.

Vander’s eyes flew open, his chest rising and falling erratically, sweat dripping down his forehead. He gasped for air, his heartbeat thunderous in his ears. His body was stiff, his muscles locked in the aftershock of the nightmare. The room was dimly lit, the quiet hum of the world outside barely making its way through the thick walls of his thoughts.

He turned toward Y/N’s side of the bed, desperate to find her, but the space beside him was empty. A jolt of panic shot through him, his mind flashing back to the nightmare’s ending—the horrific thought that he had lost her. He sprang from the bed, his hand gripping the cane he had left leaning against the side of the table. Each step he took felt weighted, as if he were walking through water. His heart pounded with an urgency that didn’t seem to let up.

His steps were heavy as he ventured into the living area, his mind still reeling from the fear and guilt of the nightmare. But as he entered the room, the sight before him stopped him cold.

Y/N sat on the couch, her leg propped up on a stool with a pillow beneath her cast. The kids—Powder, Vi, Claggor, and Mylo—were gathered around her, their faces alight with laughter as they scribbled on her cast with colourful markers. The air was filled with their youthful chatter, and the warm morning light filtered in through the window, casting a soft glow across the room. Despite the pain she must have felt, Y/N wore a calm, content expression, her attention focused on the kids as they drew their names and playful doodles on her cast.

Vander stood frozen for a moment, his breath catching in his throat. The weight of his nightmare began to melt away, and with it, the suffocating fear. His heart stilled, his muscles loosening as the reality of the situation sank in. She was there, alive and well, surrounded by the laughter of children, safe and sound.

Y/N glanced up at him, noticing him standing there, her smile gentle and soothing. "Hey," she said softly, her voice like a balm to his frazzled nerves. "You’re up early."

Vander didn’t answer right away. Instead, he walked toward her slowly, his heart still catching in his chest, his feet heavier than they should be. He sits down besides her, his arm reaching around her and pulling her body into his size - his head laying onto yours.

“I was... worried,” he finally confessed, his voice quiet and strained, still carrying the weight of the nightmare. His eyes flickered to her cast, then back to her face. “I thought… I thought I lost you.”

Y/N smiled softly, a reassuring warmth in her gaze as she placed her hand on his leg, gently caressing it. “It’s just a broken leg, Hun. I’m okay. Honestly.”

He lowered his head slightly, his face a mixture of guilt and relief. “I couldn’t protect you,” he murmured. “I should’ve been there.”

Y/N shook her head gently, her hand moving to squeeze his arm in reassurance. "It wasn’t your fault," she said softly. "I just slipped down the stairs. Accidents happen. It’s nothing serious, just a little setback. I’m fine, I promise."

Vander looked down at you, her eyes still heavy with sorrow, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder. The guilt from his nightmare lingered in his chest, but seeing her here—alive, safe, and surrounded by the children—was a comfort he hadn’t realized he needed.

The kids were still focused on her cast, giggling and chatting as they drew with colourful markers. Powder had scribbled a small drawing of a heart with her name inside, and Vi had drawn a cartoon version of Y/N, looking proud of her work. Mylo had written a playful message about getting well soon, and Claggor had added his own little doodle of a smiling sun.

As Vander looked at the kids, a soft chuckle escaped him, the tension in his chest easing just a little. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude. The nightmare had been a reminder of his fears, of the fragility of life, but here, in the warmth of the present moment, he could feel the weight lifting.

“We’ll always be here for you,” Y/N said quietly, her voice full of tenderness. “You don’t have to carry that burden alone.”

Vander looked down at her, his heart swelling with a fierce protectiveness he hadn’t known he could feel. The nightmare might still haunt him, but as long as they were together, he knew he would do everything in his power to keep them safe.

“I won’t let anything happen to you again,” Vander promised softly, his voice full of resolve.

Y/N smiled up at him, her hand resting on his, her eyes twinkling with a playful glint. “Oh really? Are you going to beat up all the stairs for me? Maybe destroy every last one of them?” she teased, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Vander chuckled, the tension in his chest easing just a little as he squeezed her hand gently. The kids continued to decorate her cast, their laughter filling the room. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of her love and the joy of the children, Vander finally allowed himself to breathe again, knowing that no matter the nightmare, this was his reality.

SILCO

Y/N and Silco lay in their shared bed, the room quiet save for the faint sounds of the night. There was a comfortable gap between them, not from distance, but from a natural rhythm in their sleeping positions. Y/N lay on her side, her back facing him, the gentle rise and fall of her breathing steady and untroubled. Silco, on the other hand, twisted and turned restlessly in his sleep, his body twitching with unspoken tension. The remnants of a nightmare clung to him even in the silence, the darkness of his past always lurking just below the surface, threatening to rise again.

The world was suffocating. The water pressed in around him, dark and oppressive, as Vander’s face loomed over him, his eyes full of anger and disappointment. Silco reached out, his hand trembling, but every movement only seemed to push him deeper into the water. The faces blurred as his strength began to fade, and all he could think about was how everything had turned—how it had all come down to this. The once-familiar ally had become his executioner, and Silco’s mind was consumed with the pain of it. He thrashed, trying to break free, but the water and the darkness were all-consuming, pulling him deeper, dragging him under. Just as he felt his body go still, ready to surrender to the cold embrace of death, there was a soft, familiar touch. It was gentle, reassuring—a presence that stood in stark contrast to the suffocating violence of his nightmare. Silco's mind was reluctant to let go of the dream, but the touch was real, undeniable.

“Silco,” a soft voice called to him, its gentle tone a lifeline pulling him from the suffocating grip of his nightmare. “Silco, wake up. You’re safe. You’re here.”

His eyes snapped open, the world still spinning in the remnants of the dream. His chest was tight, lungs burning with each shallow breath as he gasped for air. His hands trembled as he reached for something solid, something real. But the cold, dark water, the crushing weight of Vander’s hands around his throat, still lingered in his chest, a phantom ache that wouldn't let go. But he wasn’t underwater. He wasn’t drowning. He was lying in their shared room, bathed in the soft, comforting glow of candlelight, the cool night air swirling around them. Y/N was there, her presence a balm to his mind, her hand resting on his arm, her worried eyes searching his face.

“Y/N…” Silco breathed, his voice raw and broken, still choking on the remnants of the nightmare. The panic gripped him so tightly that his hands clenched into fists, the tension in his body too much to shake off. He could still feel the suffocating pressure, the cold grasp of death.

Silco blinked slowly, his mind still foggy from the nightmare. The cold remnants of fear lingered in his chest, but he didn’t want to show it. He couldn’t let her see that side of him, not now, not after all they’d been through. His pride had always been his shield, and even in the wake of the terror, he didn’t want to burden her more than he already had.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, voice low and strained as he slowly shifted to lie back down. "It was just a bad dream. You should get some sleep. I don’t need to keep you up for this."

He made an attempt to pull away, to give her the space to rest, but the moment his back hit the pillows, the tightness in his chest only deepened. His mind felt scattered, the remnants of the nightmare still clawing at his thoughts, and it took all his effort to steady his breathing. Yet, as he lay there, still half-drowning in the weight of his fear, he felt the soft, reassuring weight of Y/N beside him.

Y/N didn’t need words, though. She simply shifted closer to him, her warmth radiating through the space between them. Without a single sound, she pressed herself gently into his side, her head finding the crook of his neck. The steady rhythm of her breath calmed him, like the quiet after a storm, a soft and steady comfort that washed over him, pulling him from the depths of his mind.

Her hand moved to his, gently pulling it to her chest, pressing it there as if to tell him, without speaking, that she was right there. That she wouldn’t leave him, not now, not ever. The touch was grounding and tender, a quiet promise in the stillness of the night.

There were no demands, no expectations. Y/N didn’t need him to say anything. She knew how much he appreciated her care, even if he couldn’t always show it, and in this moment, it was enough. The weight of her love was something he had never fully allowed himself to embrace, yet it felt like the only thing in the world that made sense.

Silco’s breath hitched slightly as the flood of emotions crashed over him. The fear, the self-doubt, the old wounds—they all still lingered, but with her there, he felt something different. He didn’t pull away. He couldn’t. Her warmth was like a balm to the pain that lived in him, the quiet strength she offered filling the emptiness he never let anyone see.

He didn’t need to say anything more. With her warmth beside him, her presence wrapping around him like a shield, he allowed himself to feel the peace he had long denied. The ghosts of his past, the nightmares that had plagued him for so long, seemed to recede into the background. For the first time in a long while, he felt safe. And he knew, in that moment, he didn’t have to face those demons alone.

He let out a quiet, shaky breath, his arm instinctively wrapping around her as he finally relaxed into the embrace. He surrendered, just for this moment, to the comfort she provided, to the understanding that she would never let him go—even when his pride made him want to push her away. And as he held her close, he knew, without a single word between them, that she was the anchor he hadn’t realized he needed.

JINX/POWDER (PLATONIC)

The darkness of the room pressed in on Jinx, suffocating her as the nightmare replayed in vivid detail. She was back on the bridge, the screams and chaos around her echoing like distant thunder. Her small hands clung onto her sister's hand, she peered past Vi and Vander, her eyes landing on her mother’s still form. She didn’t understand what she was seeing—her young mind couldn’t make sense of the motionless body, the crimson pooling beneath it, or the eerie, hollow silence that seemed to swallow the world around her. “Mom?” she whispered, her voice trembling, barely audible amidst the chaos. She turned to Vi, searching her sister’s face for something—anything—to ease the confusion building inside her. But Vi’s expression, pale and stricken, offered no answers. Vander bent down, his massive frame blocking her view as he spoke urgently to Vi, his voice low and firm. “Take her. Go.” His words were a command, but they sounded distant, like they were coming from underwater. Jinx clung tighter to Vi’s hand, her small fingers gripping desperately, her legs trembling. Her sister was her anchor, the only thing holding her steady in a world that felt like it was falling apart. But then she felt it—Vi’s hand slipping from hers. “No,” Jinx whimpered, her voice barely above a breath as Vi stepped away. The warmth of her sister’s hand faded, leaving her alone and untethered. “Vi?” Her voice wavered, small and unsure, as she reached out, trying to reclaim the connection. Vi didn’t turn back. She moved toward Vander, the distance between them growing with every step. Jinx stood frozen, her legs refusing to follow, her chest tightening as the chill of abandonment crept in. Her heart pounded, each beat a desperate plea for someone to come back, to take her hand and make her feel safe again. But no one came. The shadows on the bridge stretched long and menacing, and the ache in her chest deepened into a pain she couldn’t understand.

Jinx jolted awake with a sharp gasp, her chest heaving as if she had been holding her breath for hours. Her heart raced, and cold sweat clung to her skin. The nightmare’s grip lingered, the scene replaying behind her eyes in fragments. The bridge. The blood. Her mother. The emptiness in her sister’s absence.

She buried her face in her hands, trying to steady her breathing, but the room felt too dark, too suffocating. Her trembling hands pushed her blanket aside, and she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. A faint, warm glow spilled out from under her door, catching her attention like a lifeline.

Barefoot and hesitant, she padded down the hallway toward the living room. The soft flicker of candlelight danced against the walls, and there, seated on the couch, was Y/N.

Wrapped in a blanket, a storybook resting on her lap, Y/N’s face was calm but distant, her eyes scanning the worn pages as if searching for something. Jinx hesitated in the doorway, her small frame half-hidden by the shadows.

Y/N glanced up, her warm, knowing eyes meeting Jinx’s. “Nightmare?” she asked softly, her voice steady and reassuring.

Jinx nodded, her throat too tight to speak, and shuffled forward. She didn’t hesitate when Y/N patted the space beside her. Crawling onto the couch, Jinx nestled into Y/N’s side, pulling part of the blanket over herself.

“I couldn’t sleep either,” Y/N admitted quietly, her hand coming up to stroke Jinx’s hair, her touch gentle and rhythmic. “I was thinking about my mother. This was her favorite book to read to me when I was little.” Her voice carried a soft, wistful edge, as though the memory lingered with a bittersweet weight.

Jinx glanced down at the book in Y/N’s lap, her tired eyes taking in the faded cover, its once-bright colours now muted with time. The edges were frayed, the spine cracked, speaking of countless nights spent with its stories. “She used to read it to help me sleep,” Y/N continued, her voice soft and steady, like a lullaby in itself. “When the world felt too heavy, this was her way of making it lighter. Maybe it’ll help you too.”

Jinx didn’t reply, but the faintest flicker of curiosity passed over her face. It wasn’t often she heard Y/N talk about her past. The mention of a mother—a figure tied to warmth and comfort—stirred something fragile in Jinx, a longing she barely recognized.

Without waiting for a response, Y/N opened the book, the pages crackling softly as they were turned. The faint, comforting scent of aged paper filled the room, mingling with the flickering warmth of the candlelight. Her voice began to fill the quiet space, steady and gentle, each word weaving into the air like a spell.

“Once upon a time, in a land of endless skies, there lived a little girl with a heart as bright as the stars…”

Jinx shifted slightly, pulling the blanket tighter around herself before resting her head on Y/N’s lap. The small, vulnerable gesture wasn’t lost on Y/N, who adjusted the blanket to cover them both more snugly. Her hand moved instinctively, stroking Jinx’s hair in slow, comforting motions.

The soothing cadence of Y/N’s voice was like an anchor, grounding Jinx in the present. The vivid echoes of her nightmare—her mother’s still form, Vi’s retreating hand, the empty ache in her chest—began to dim. The words of the story painted a different picture in her mind, one of vast skies and endless possibilities, far removed from the darkness that had gripped her.

“Every night, the little girl would look up at the stars, wondering if she’d ever touch them. But the stars whispered back to her, ‘You don’t have to reach us. You’re already one of us.’”

Jinx’s breath slowed, the tension in her body unwinding as she listened. The warmth of Y/N’s lap, the rhythmic strokes through her hair, and the steady murmur of the story created a cocoon of safety around her. It was a feeling she couldn’t quite name, but it filled the empty spaces in her heart, pushing back the shadows that threatened to consume her.

Y/N glanced down at Jinx, her voice never faltering as she continued reading. She noticed how Jinx’s small hands, once clenched tightly in her lap, now rested loosely by her sides. The lines of worry etched into her young face began to soften, her breathing evening out with each passing moment.

“The little girl learned that her light wasn’t something she had to find in the stars—it was already inside her. And with that, she wasn’t afraid of the dark anymore.”

Y/N paused for a moment, her hand lingering on Jinx’s hair as she turned the page. She glanced down again, noticing Jinx’s eyelids growing heavier, her small frame nestled deeper into the comfort of Y/N’s presence.

The candlelight flickered gently, casting long shadows that danced on the walls. The quiet hum of the room felt like a sanctuary, a rare moment of peace in a world that often felt too chaotic and unforgiving.

Y/N’s voice dropped to an even softer tone, as if speaking directly to Jinx’s heart.

“And so, the little girl slept, cradled by the stars, knowing she was never truly alone.”

Jinx let out a soft sigh, her head tilting slightly as she drifted further into sleep. Y/N didn’t stop stroking her hair, her touch now as much for herself as it was for Jinx. The weight of her own memories sat heavily in her chest, but in this moment, they felt bearable.

For the first time in a long while, Jinx looked peaceful, her small form curled up under the blanket like a child seeking shelter from a storm. Y/N kept reading, her voice barely a whisper now, more for the comfort of the act than the need to be heard.

The room settled into a profound stillness, the only sound the soft rustling of pages and the faint crackle of the candle. Wrapped in Y/N’s care, Jinx allowed herself to let go, her breathing steady and calm.

Y/N gazed down at her, a faint, bittersweet smile playing on her lips. “You’re safe now,” she murmured softly, almost to herself. And for that brief, quiet moment, it felt true for them both.

[aspenmissing]

ᴀʀᴄᴀɴᴇ: ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ-ɪꜱʜ

6115 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ʜᴀʀᴍ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴀɴᴅ/ᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛꜰᴜʟ. ʜᴏᴡ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʀᴇꜱᴘᴏɴᴅ.

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx/ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ

JAYCE

The dim glow of the workshop’s lanterns flickered softly, casting long shadows over the polished metal surfaces of Jayce’s creations. His hands moved with precision, the soft hum of machines and the rhythmic tapping of his tools filling the space as he focused intensely on his latest project. His mind was consumed by his work, as it often was during times of pressure, and for the moment, everything else in his world faded into the background.

Except for one thing: Y/N.

She stood at the entrance to the workshop, watching him in silence. He didn’t even notice her standing there for several moments. The light music that played softly from the small speaker on the corner of his workbench filled the space, but it only highlighted the growing distance between them.

“Jayce…” Y/N finally spoke, her voice tentative, almost hesitant. She hadn’t meant to interrupt, but the silence had stretched on for far too long.

Jayce didn’t look up from his work, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Hmm?” His response was curt, distracted.

Y/N’s heart sank. She had grown accustomed to the intensity of Jayce’s dedication to his research and inventions, but it seemed lately like there was always something pulling him away from her. She stood there, waiting for him to acknowledge her, to invite her into his world like he used to, but nothing came.

“I was thinking… maybe we could spend some time together tonight?” Y/N suggested softly, stepping a little closer to the workbench. Her voice was gentle, not wanting to push him, but wanting to feel that connection again—the one they used to share so effortlessly.

Jayce finally looked up, his eyes tired but focused. He hesitated, glancing back at the project in front of him, then back at Y/N. His expression softened for a brief moment, but then the weight of his responsibilities seemed to pull him back.

“I can’t right now,” he said, his voice quieter than before, almost apologetic. “There’s too much I need to finish. I’m close… so close to figuring it out.”

Y/N nodded, understanding the passion in his voice, but it did little to ease the ache in her chest. She had seen this before—the way Jayce would lose himself in his work, pushing everything else aside until he felt he had done enough. But this time felt different. This time, it wasn’t just his work pulling him away. It was as though he had built an invisible wall between them, one that no amount of pleading or patience could break.

“I get it, Jayce,” Y/N said, trying to keep her voice steady. “But when was the last time we actually spent time together? Just the two of us? It’s been weeks… months, even.”

Jayce looked at her, and for a moment, there was a flicker of guilt in his eyes. But it quickly vanished, replaced by a weariness that seemed to settle deep in his bones. “I don’t have time for that right now, Y/N. I need to focus.”

Y/N felt her stomach twist, a sharp pang of hurt cutting through her. “I’m not asking for much, Jayce. Just… a little of your time. It doesn’t have to be anything big, just—”

“I said I don’t have time!” Jayce interrupted, his voice rising before he could catch himself. He immediately regretted the sharpness, but the damage was done. He saw the hurt flash across Y/N’s face, and something inside him crumbled.

Y/N stood there for a long moment, her lips pressed together tightly as she held back the tears that threatened to spill. She didn’t know what to say anymore. Jayce’s work had always been important to him, but it had never felt like it came before her. But now, in this moment, she wasn’t sure if she was even part of his world anymore. His ambition, his goals, seemed to consume him entirely.

“Fine,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I get it. I’ll leave you to your work.”

She turned to walk away, but before she could make it to the door, Jayce called out her name.

“Y/N… wait.”

She paused, but didn’t turn around. She didn’t want to see the look in his eyes right now, didn’t want to see the guilt or the frustration. He had already made his choice, and it wasn’t her.

Jayce’s voice softened as he stepped toward her. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just… I’m close to something big. You know how important this is to me. I can’t stop now.”

Y/N slowly turned to face him, her arms crossed over her chest as if to protect herself from the weight of his words. “I know, Jayce. I know how important it is. But don’t you see? You’re pushing me away”

Jayce swallowed, the words hitting him harder than he expected. He had always prided himself on his work, but he had never meant to let it overshadow the one person who had stood by him through everything. But now, as he looked at Y/N’s hurt expression, he realized the truth: he had been so focused on proving himself, on achieving greatness, that he had forgotten to nurture the relationship that mattered the most to him.

“I’m sorry,” Jayce said softly, taking a step closer. “I don’t want to push you away. You mean everything to me.”

Y/N shook her head, her eyes filled with unshed tears. “It doesn’t feel like it right now, Jayce.”

The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Jayce reached out, gently taking her hand, his thumb brushing over her skin as if trying to convey everything he couldn’t say. “I don’t want to lose you, Y/N. I’m just… afraid I’ll never be enough.”

Y/N’s heart twisted. She could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the fear that had driven him to bury himself in his work. She stepped forward, pulling him into a gentle embrace.

“You’re already enough,” she whispered into his ear. “But you can’t keep pushing me away. I need you too, Jayce. Not just as someone who can fix the world, but as the person you are. The person I love.”

Jayce’s arms tightened around her, the weight of his regret heavy on his chest. He held her close, savouring the feeling of her warmth, but knowing that he had a long way to go to make things right.

“I promise,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll do better. I’ll make time for us. I swear it.”

And in that moment, Jayce realized that he couldn’t afford to lose her—not for his work, not for his ambitions. Y/N had always been his anchor, and he couldn’t let go of the one person who truly understood him.

It was time to rebuild what had been broken. And he would do whatever it took to make it right.

VIKTOR

Viktor’s lab was a quiet, sterile environment, lit only by the soft glow of arcane machinery and the faint hum of the chemical reactors working in the background. The air always smelled faintly of oil and metal, a testament to the ambitious scientist's unyielding drive to push the boundaries of his experiments. Tonight, however, the atmosphere was different. Tonight, it was filled with an undercurrent of tension as Viktor prepared for his latest, most daring experiment yet.

“Y/N, you don’t have to do this,” Viktor said softly, turning to look at her with a mixture of concern and determination in his eyes. He stood tall despite the cane he leaned on, the weight of his past decisions and ailments making his movements a little slower, but still purposeful. “I can run the experiment alone. It’s too risky.”

Y/N, however, stood resolutely next to him, her hand resting gently on the table where the prototype of the new device sat. It was a marvel of engineering and alchemy, a machine designed to unlock the potential of Hextech technology in ways that had never been done before. She had always admired Viktor’s genius, his drive, and his unflinching pursuit of progress. And while she understood the dangers, she trusted him completely.

“I’m not afraid, Viktor,” she said with a small, reassuring smile. “I want to help. You’ve been working on this for so long, and I’m right here. I trust you.”

Her words seemed to settle some of the unease within Viktor, but a part of him still hesitated. He had always put progress above all else, but with Y/N by his side, it had become more difficult to keep his heart and mind from conflicting. She had become so much more than just an assistant to him, so much more than someone who helped him. She had become his partner, and the thought of risking her well-being gnawed at him in ways he wasn’t used to.

But she was persistent. Her faith in him was unwavering, and with a soft sigh, he nodded. “Alright. But you promise me, if something feels wrong, you’ll stop, yes? Don’t be reckless for my sake.”

Y/N’s smile widened. “I promise.”

The two of them worked together in synchrony. Viktor carefully adjusted the settings on the device, while Y/N followed his instructions to the letter, her focus sharp. The energy in the lab seemed to vibrate with anticipation, as though the world itself was holding its breath, waiting for the experiment to begin.

Viktor’s fingers hovered over the final switch, and he glanced at Y/N one last time. “Are you ready?” he asked.

She nodded. “Let’s do this.”

Viktor flipped the switch.

For a moment, everything was still. The machine hummed to life, its core glowing brightly, and streams of energy surged through the air. Viktor’s heart raced as he watched the device’s progress on the monitors, his breath caught in his chest. But then—just as quickly—something went wrong. A burst of energy erupted from the machine, more intense than he had anticipated. The surge knocked both of them backward.

Y/N lost her footing, her body tumbling toward the ground. Viktor reached out, but his cane slipped in the chaos, and he couldn’t catch her in time. The floor was cold against Y/N’s back as her head hit the hard surface with a sickening thud. The world around her spun in a blur, and a sharp pain flared across her skull.

“Miláčku!” Viktor shouted, his voice laced with panic as he rushed to her side, his cane discarded on the floor. His hands trembled as he cupped her face, his eyes frantic as he checked for any signs of serious injury. (Darling)

Y/N blinked slowly, her vision still blurry, but she tried to focus on his face. “I’m okay, Viktor,” she mumbled, her voice groggy. “Just a little dizzy… nothing serious.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, though his face was still drawn with concern. “I should have never let you do this” he whispered, more to himself than to her. His hands shook as he gently helped her sit up, his voice tight with guilt. “I put you in danger. I... I should’ve been more careful.”

“Viktor,” Y/N whispered, reaching up to place a hand over his. She could feel the tension in his fingertips, the weight of his regret. “This wasn’t your fault. I agreed to help you, remember? I knew the risks. This isn’t on you.”

But Viktor couldn’t shake the overwhelming sense of responsibility he felt for her safety. She had trusted him completely, and in that moment, he realized how much he had taken for granted. His pursuit of science, his desire to change the world, had come at a price. A price that could have cost him the person he cared most about.

JAYVIK

Y/N had always admired the dynamic between Jayce and Viktor—their partnership, their unyielding dedication to their work, and the bond they shared despite their differences. She had tried to be supportive, stepping into their world of Hextech whenever she could, even though she wasn’t a scientist herself.

But tonight, everything had unraveled.

It started with a simple misunderstanding. Jayce had been pacing the workshop, his frustration palpable as he ranted about deadlines, council meetings, and the pressures of Hextech’s growing influence. Viktor, meanwhile, was hunched over his workbench, tools in hand as he adjusted some intricate device with the precision only he could manage.

Y/N had tried to help in her own way. She suggested taking a break, maybe grabbing something to eat, or just stepping away from the lab for a while. But the suggestion was met with resistance. Jayce waved her off, muttering something about needing to stay focused, while Viktor barely acknowledged her, too engrossed in his work to respond.

Feeling dismissed, Y/N’s patience snapped. “You two are going to run yourselves into the ground!” she exclaimed, her voice sharper than she intended. “You’re so obsessed with your inventions that you’re forgetting everything else—including the people who care about you.”

The words hung in the air like a heavy weight, and for a moment, the room fell silent.

Jayce was the first to react, his brow furrowing as he turned to face her. “We’re doing this for everyone, Y/N. For Piltover. For Zaun. You know that.”

“And you think that excuses shutting people out?” Y/N shot back, her frustration bubbling over. She turned to Viktor, who still hadn’t looked up from his work. “And you—do you even realize how much you’ve been pushing yourself? You’re not a machine, Viktor. You need rest too.”

Viktor finally looked up, his golden eyes narrowing slightly. “This work isn’t about convenience, Y/N. It’s about progress. Sacrifices must be made.”

The words stung more than she expected. “Sacrifices?” she repeated, her voice faltering. “Is that all I am to you? A sacrifice?”

Jayce stepped forward, his expression softening as he reached out to her. “Y/N, that’s not what he meant—”

But Y/N pulled away, shaking her head. “I’m trying to help, but it feels like I’m just in the way. Maybe you don’t need me here at all.”

The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted them. Jayce’s face fell, hurt flickering in his eyes, while Viktor’s expression hardened into something unreadable.

“Miláčku…” Viktor began, his tone quieter now, almost pleading. (Darling)

But she was already backing toward the door. “I’ll leave you to your progress,” she muttered, her voice shaking as she turned and walked out of the workshop.

=

As the door clicked shut behind her, the silence in the shared apartment was suffocating. Y/N’s chest felt heavy as she retreated to the guest room, a place she rarely used but tonight felt necessary. She couldn’t face Jayce and Viktor—not after the way she’d lashed out at them.

Lying awake in the unfamiliar bed, Y/N replayed the argument over and over. She’d let her frustration get the better of her, and now all she felt was regret. Jayce and Viktor were trying their best to change the world, balancing immense pressure with their passion for Hextech. Instead of supporting them, she’d only added to their stress.

Eventually, exhaustion claimed her, though her sleep was restless and shallow.

The next morning, the faint scent of something warm and savory roused her. Y/N blinked against the soft light filtering through the curtains, her senses slowly sharpening. It smelled like… eggs? And toast? Was that coffee, too?

Curiosity outweighed her lingering guilt as she slipped out of bed and padded down the hallway toward the kitchen. Her heart clenched at the sight before her.

Jayce was at the stove, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as he flipped something in a pan. Viktor stood beside him, a bit awkward with his movements but focused as he carefully poured coffee into a mug. The kitchen table was already set with plates of food—scrambled eggs, toast, and a small bowl of fruit.

“Morning,” Jayce said, glancing over his shoulder with a sheepish smile. His voice was soft, hesitant. “We, uh, made breakfast.”

Viktor turned to her as well, his golden eyes scanning her face for a reaction. “It’s not perfect,” he said, gesturing to the table, “but we wanted to… apologize. For last night.”

Y/N’s throat tightened, and she had to blink back the sudden sting of tears. “You don’t have to apologize,” she murmured, stepping closer. “I’m the one who—”

“No,” Jayce interrupted gently, turning off the stove and placing the pan on the counter. He faced her fully, his expression earnest. “You were right, Y/N. We’ve been so caught up in our work that we’ve been neglecting everything else. Including you.”

Viktor nodded, his voice quieter but just as sincere. “Your concerns weren’t unwarranted. We… forget sometimes that there’s more to life than progress and deadlines. You were only trying to help.”

Y/N felt a tear slip down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away, smiling despite herself. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like you weren’t doing enough. I just worry about you two. You’re both so driven, and I don’t want you to burn out.”

Jayce approached her, his arms opening slightly in invitation. “We’ll try to do better. For you. For us.”

Without hesitation, Y/N stepped into his embrace, feeling the tension from the night before melt away. Viktor joined them after a moment, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder. The three of them stood there in the warmth of the kitchen, a quiet understanding passing between them.

When they finally broke apart, Jayce gestured to the table. “Come on, before the food gets cold. Viktor even made coffee.”

Y/N chuckled, taking a seat and letting herself relax as they sat down together. The food wasn’t perfect—Jayce had overcooked the eggs slightly, and Viktor’s toast was a little burnt—but it didn’t matter. What mattered was the effort, the thought behind it.

In that moment, surrounded by the people she cared about most, Y/N realized that no argument, no misunderstanding, could break the bond they shared. Together, they’d figure out how to balance their passions with their lives. And together, they’d always find a way back to each other.

VANDER

The Last Drop was unusually quiet for a change, with the patrons gone and the dim lantern light casting a warm glow over the upstairs room. Y/N and Vander sat at the small table, a nearly empty bottle of whiskey between them. Laughter spilled from their lips as they reminisced about the past, their cheeks flushed from the alcohol they’d both indulged in.

“You’re slurring your words, big guy,” Y/N teased, pointing at Vander with a playful smirk. “Can’t handle your drink anymore?”

Vander let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head as he poured the last bit of whiskey into their glasses. “Says the one who’s giggling like a schoolgirl,” he shot back, his grin widening. “You’ve had just as much as I have.”

They clinked their glasses, the sound ringing out like a toast to their shared camaraderie. Y/N couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so much, her sides aching from their banter. But as the whiskey settled into their systems, the laughter turned into something lighter, more carefree.

It was Vander who suggested the tickling match, his mischievous side coming out in a way it rarely did. “Bet you can’t take me down,” he said, leaning back in his chair with a cocky grin.

Y/N narrowed her eyes, rising to the challenge. “Oh, you’re on.”

The playful scuffle started as harmless fun, with Y/N darting around Vander’s large hands, trying to tickle his sides while dodging his counterattacks. Their laughter filled the room as they stumbled around, their movements slightly clumsy from the alcohol.

But then, in one uncoordinated motion, Vander’s hand swung a little too wide, catching Y/N squarely on the nose.

The room seemed to freeze.

Y/N gasped, stumbling back as her hand flew to her face. A warm, wet sensation met her fingertips, and when she pulled her hand away, she saw the telltale red of blood.

“Oh, no,” Vander muttered, his voice low and panicked. The buzz from the whiskey evaporated in an instant, replaced by a wave of guilt and worry. “Sweetheart—”

“I’m fine,” Y/N interrupted, her voice muffled as she pinched her nose to stop the bleeding. But her words didn’t stop Vander from rushing over, his large hands hovering near her face, unsure of what to do without making things worse.

“Let me see,” he insisted, his voice steadier now but still heavy with concern.

Y/N relented, tilting her head back slightly as Vander gently cupped her face, examining her nose with a care that belied his size. “It’s just a bloody nose,” she said, offering him a small smile despite the situation. “No big deal.”

But Vander didn’t smile back. He grabbed a clean cloth from the table and carefully pressed it to her nose, his brow furrowed deeply. “No big deal? I hit you, Y/N,” he said, his voice tight. “That’s a big deal.”

“It was an accident,” Y/N said softly, placing a hand on his arm. “You didn’t mean to, Vander. We were messing around. It happens.”

“Still,” Vander muttered, his jaw clenched. “I should’ve been more careful. I could’ve really hurt you.”

The sight of him so distraught tugged at Y/N’s heart. She reached up, resting her hand on his cheek and forcing him to meet her eyes. “Hey,” she said gently, her voice steady despite the lingering sting in her nose. “I’m okay. Really. Accidents happen. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll let you pamper me for the rest of the night.”

Vander huffed a small laugh, though his eyes were still clouded with guilt. “Pamper you, huh?”

“Yup,” Y/N replied with a grin, her usual humour returning. “I expect a warm drink, a blanket, and maybe a foot rub.”

That finally earned a chuckle from Vander, though it was tinged with a hint of sadness. “You’ve got a deal,” he said, his voice soft.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close as they sat back down at the table. “I’m still sorry, Y/N,” he murmured. “You mean too much to me to let something like this happen.”

“I know,” Y/N said, resting her head against his chest. “But you don’t have to beat yourself up over it. I’m not mad, Vander. Just maybe… let’s save the tickle matches for when we’re sober next time.”

Vander let out a low laugh, his grip tightening around her in a protective embrace. “Deal,” he said, his voice warm and full of gratitude.

And as the night went on, the incident became just another memory to laugh about later—a reminder of how much they cared for each other, even when things got a little out of hand.

SILCO

The room was dim, the only light coming from the faint glow of the neon signs outside filtering through the cracked windows. Silco and Y/N stood across from each other, the tension in the air palpable. The weight of their argument pressed down on both of them—words had been thrown like daggers, each cutting deeper than the last.

"You don't understand!" Silco's voice was low, tinged with frustration, but his usual coldness was absent. He was angry, yes, but there was something else—fear, desperation—that lingered beneath his words.

Y/N’s face was flushed with anger, her voice quivering as she retorted, "I understand perfectly, Silco! You think you're the only one who’s sacrificed? The only one who’s had to make hard choices?" Her hands were clenched into fists at her sides. "You’ve built this empire, but what have you really gained? Power? Control? At what cost?"

Silco’s jaw tightened, his fists trembling at his sides. The scorn in her words stung more than he cared to admit. He opened his mouth to respond, but instead, a primal instinct surged through him. He raised his hand, palm open, as if to gesture angrily, but the movement was much too sharp, too quick. It was a motion born out of years of frustration, a gesture that, in his mind, had always been a warning.

But it wasn’t the hand that struck her—his intention never was. It was the movement itself that made Y/N flinch, her body jerking back as if she expected a blow.

The sight of her flinching—of seeing the fear in her eyes—stopped Silco dead in his tracks. The realization hit him like a sledgehammer, his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach. He never meant for it to go this far. He’d raised his hand out of pure instinct, a lifetime of anger and hurt flooding to the surface, but Y/N—Y/N, the one person he allowed into his world—had flinched.

Her eyes were wide, her expression one of shock, her breath catching in her throat as she looked at him. It wasn’t fear of him—he realized that in a split second—but fear of the violence he represented. It was a look he’d seen in so many others throughout his life, but never from Y/N. The thought that he had made her feel this way broke something deep within him.

"Y/N..." Silco’s voice faltered, the anger draining from him. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest as he slowly lowered his hand, the weight of his regret crashing down on him. He hadn’t meant to scare her. He had never meant to make her feel small, weak, or vulnerable in front of him. And yet, that’s exactly what he had done.

She didn’t move, her body tense, as though still bracing herself for something worse. Her wide eyes met his, searching for an explanation that he could not provide, and that broke him even more.

"I didn’t... I didn’t mean it," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He took a cautious step toward her, his hands trembling as they hovered in the air, unsure of what to do, how to fix what had just been shattered. "I... I'm sorry. I’m sorry."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence between them felt suffocating, heavy with the realization of what he had almost done. He could see the tear that had formed in the corner of Y/N’s eye, a silent testament to the pain he had caused her.

Before he could say another word, Y/N spoke, her voice barely audible. "You scared me, Silco." Her words were simple, but they cut through him like a blade.

A broken sigh escaped him, and in that moment, all the walls he had built around himself—walls he had so carefully crafted to protect him from weakness—crumbled.

"I never wanted to hurt you," he said, his voice strained with emotion, each word feeling like it came from the very depth of his soul. "I swear to you, I never wanted to make you feel like that."

The cold exterior he had always worn—his calculated control, his ruthless demeanour—began to crack. He couldn’t stand the thought that he had made the one person who mattered to him feel this way. Y/N was more than just someone to him; she was the only person who saw past the monster he’d become. She saw the man beneath the anger, the man who was capable of love—real love, not the twisted, possessive affection he was used to.

Slowly, cautiously, Silco closed the distance between them. His hand reached out, his fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against her arm, then slowly slid around her back, pulling her into him. The warmth of her body, the softness of her skin, sent a wave of guilt and longing through him.

Y/N didn’t pull away. Instead, she rested her head against his chest, her hands gripping the fabric of his jacket as if holding onto something solid, something that still felt like home. She didn’t speak, and neither did he. The only sound in the room was the steady beat of their hearts, somehow in sync, despite the chaos that had just unfolded.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered again, his voice hoarse. “I never want you to be afraid of me.”

Y/N's arms wrapped around him, returning the embrace, but this time there was no tension, no fear. Just the rawness of emotion, of two people who had hurt each other, but who could still find solace in each other’s presence.

“I know,” she murmured softly into his chest, the words carrying more weight than anything else. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

For a long moment, neither of them moved. They simply stood there, in each other's arms, finding comfort in the stillness. Silco wasn’t sure if he could undo the hurt he’d caused, but he knew one thing for certain: he would spend every moment of the rest of his life making sure that Y/N never had to flinch again when he raised his hand.

And that, in a strange, painful way, was a promise that broke his heart and rebuilt it at the same time.

POWDER/JINX

The explosion had rocked The Last Drop, sending shockwaves through the tavern as smoke and debris filled the air. No one had been hurt, thankfully, but the mess was impossible to ignore. Y/N had been upstairs in Silco’s private office when she heard the blast, and her heart sank as she rushed downstairs to find Jinx standing in the center of the destruction, looking sheepish but almost proud of her work.

“What did you do?” Y/N’s voice was sharp, the frustration bubbling to the surface. Her eyes scanned the wreckage—the broken tables, the charred walls—and then locked onto Jinx, who was standing there with her arms crossed defensively, a nervous smile on her face.

“I didn’t mean for it to go off like that,” Jinx muttered, her eyes wide with guilt. “I just wanted to... I thought I had it right, but it... I don’t know.”

Y/N didn’t have time for explanations. She grabbed Jinx’s arm roughly, her grip firm as she pulled her away from the wreckage. “We’re going upstairs, now.”

Without another word, Y/N dragged Jinx up the stairs to Silco’s office. The tension between them was thick, and Jinx didn’t resist. It was obvious that she knew she’d messed up, but she didn’t know how to fix it. She didn’t know what to say, either.

Y/N threw open the door to Silco’s office and practically shoved Jinx inside. The office was silent, the only noise being the soft hum of the air and the distant echoes of the tavern downstairs.

Silco, who had been at his desk working, looked up at the commotion. “What’s going on here?” he asked in his usual calm tone, but his eyes flickered with interest as he saw the mess Jinx had caused.

“Jinx almost blew the entire place up!” Y/N snapped, the anger in her voice still raw. She wasn’t sure if it was frustration with Jinx’s recklessness or just the overwhelming fear of what could’ve happened. Either way, she wasn’t backing down.

Jinx shrunk back from the two of them, her usual bravado slipping away. She couldn’t stand being scolded—especially by Y/N, the one person who always showed her care.

“Do you even think before you act?” Y/N’s words cut through the silence like a knife. “What were you thinking, Jinx? You could’ve hurt someone—or worse, hurt yourself!”

Jinx opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat. Her eyes welled up with tears, her hands trembling. It wasn’t supposed to go this way. She hadn’t meant for the explosion to be so big, hadn’t meant for it to create such a mess. But now she was being yelled at, and Y/N’s disappointment stung more than she could bear.

“I... I didn’t mean to...” Jinx whispered, but her voice was so small it barely registered.

Y/N’s frustration hadn’t dulled, but the sight of Jinx standing there, vulnerable and scared, made her pause. “You’re going to hurt someone if you don’t learn some control, Jinx. This is why I’m so worried about you. You act first and think later, and it’s dangerous.”

Jinx’s lip quivered, and she finally broke down. She didn’t want to cry, but the tears came anyway. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed, her voice trembling with the weight of her emotions. “I didn’t mean to... I just wanted to... I just wanted to do something big. Something that would... matter.”

Y/N’s heart softened, the anger dissipating as quickly as it had come. Jinx wasn’t a bad person—she was a broken one, and Y/N could see that. But the anger was still there, and it felt like there was nothing Y/N could do to fix this in a single moment.

Silco stood from his desk, his expression unreadable as he walked over to Jinx, placing a firm but gentle hand on her shoulder. “You need to understand the consequences of your actions, Jinx. Not everything can be a game. Some things, like what you just did, are dangerous.”

Jinx nodded silently, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. “I understand,” she whispered, though the words felt hollow. She didn’t know if she really understood, or if she was just trying to make them stop shouting at her.

Y/N let out a long, heavy sigh, the tension leaving her shoulders. She walked over to Jinx and placed a hand on her arm, her voice softer now. “You’re not a bad person, Jinx. But you have to be more careful. You have to think about the people around you, okay? You’re not alone in this.”

Jinx looked up at her, the tears still visible in her eyes. “I don’t wanna mess up anymore... I don’t wanna disappoint you.” Her voice cracked, the weight of the apology heavy on her heart.

Y/N’s heart ached at the words. She reached out, gently cupping Jinx’s face in her hands. “Jinx, you haven’t messed anything up. You’re not a disappointment. You’re just a kid trying to figure it all out. But you can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep putting people at risk.”

Jinx sniffled, looking down at the floor, her fingers clenching and unclenching nervously. “I just wanted to do something... I just wanted to make something explode... I wanted to be... important.”

Y/N sighed, her heart aching for the girl standing before her. “You are important, Jinx. You matter. But making explosions isn’t the only way to prove that. You’ve got so much more to offer. Just... just stop before you make another mistake, okay?”

Jinx nodded slowly, her lip trembling as she wiped her eyes again. She wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come.

Y/N’s heart broke a little more as she watched Jinx retreat back to the door. She knew this wasn’t the end, that the girl would need more than just words to change her ways, but it was a start.

Jinx’s sobs echoed in the hallway as she ran from the room, retreating to her bedroom, where she could cry without anyone seeing her weakness. Y/N stood there for a moment, feeling the sharp sting of regret in her chest. Maybe she had been too harsh.

After a moment of hesitation, Y/N quietly followed after her, her footsteps soft as she approached Jinx’s room. She knocked lightly on the door, her voice quieter now. “Jinx?”

There was no response, but she could hear the soft sounds of sobbing from inside. Y/N opened the door slowly, stepping inside. Jinx was sitting on her bed, her back to the door, her arms wrapped around her knees.

Y/N sat down next to her, her voice low and gentle. “Jinx, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Jinx looked up, her red eyes filled with the hurt that she had been trying to hide. “I just... I don’t want you to be mad at me. I don’t want to be... a burden.”

Y/N pulled her into a tight hug, her hands running through Jinx’s messy hair. “You’re not a burden. I care about you, Jinx. And I just want you to be safe. You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to try.”

Jinx sniffled, clinging to Y/N, her small frame trembling with the weight of her emotions. “I’ll try... I won’t do it again.”

Y/N held her closer, knowing that this wasn’t the end of the journey, but for now, it was enough. She would always be there for Jinx, no matter what explosions she caused or mistakes she made. Because, despite everything, Jinx was family. And Y/N wasn’t going anywhere.

[aspenmissing]

ᴀʀᴄᴀɴᴇ: ꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱꜰᴜʟ ꜱɪᴛᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ-ɪꜱʜ ||

4511 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱꜰᴜʟ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ, ᴄʀʏɪɴɢ/ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴜᴘꜱᴇᴛ, ʜᴀʀᴀꜱꜱᴍᴇɴᴛ (ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ'ꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ), ꜰʟᴀʀᴇ-ᴜᴘ ᴘᴀɪɴ (ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ'ꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱꜰᴜʟ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴏᴜʀ ʙᴏʏꜱ ᴀɴᴅ 'ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴜᴅ ᴏꜰ' ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ, ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴏᴡ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴏꜱᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ.

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ/ᴊɪɴx

JAYCE

The howling wind outside was relentless, throwing thick flakes of snow against the window with ferocious intensity. The blizzard showed no signs of letting up, and the frosted glass distorted the pale moonlight that tried to pierce through the storm. Jayce stood by the fireplace, furrowing his brow as he stoked the flames higher. The warmth from the fire bathed the room in a soft amber glow, but it wasn’t enough—not for him. Not when Y/N was sitting on the worn couch, bundled in every blanket he could find in the house.

“Are you warm enough?” Jayce asked, his voice a little too tight as he turned toward her.

“I’m fine, Jayce,” she replied, her lips quirking into a reassuring smile as she shuffled out from under the blanket. Rolling up her sleeves, she moved toward the small table where the ingredients for soup were laid out. “I was just going to start on something warm for us—”

“No, no, no,” he interrupted, crossing the room in two swift strides. Before she could even reach for the cutting board, Jayce gently but firmly took the knife out of her hand and set it down. “You don’t have to do that. Let me handle it.”

“Jayce,” she began, her tone a blend of amusement and exasperation, but he was already at her side, rolling her sleeves back down with a touch so gentle and deliberate it made her pause. Without a word, he guided her back toward the couch, his hands steady on her shoulders.

“Please,” he said softly, his voice carrying a quiet plea. “I’ll handle it. Just sit and stay warm.”

Y/N let out a small sigh, knowing better than to argue. She’d learned long ago that when Jayce slipped into one of his protective moods, it was easier to let him fuss. He wasn’t overbearing—just... devoted. And there was a reason behind it, one that made her heart ache every time she remembered.

Kneeling in front of her, Jayce tucked the blanket snugly around her shoulders, his large hands lingering for a moment as if to shield her from even the faintest chill. “Don’t move,” he murmured, his gaze meeting hers briefly before darting back toward the fireplace.

She watched as he crossed the room with purposeful strides, adding another log to the flames and adjusting the kettle hanging over the fire. The warmth crackled through the room, casting a golden glow that softened his furrowed brow.

When Y/N stirred under the blanket, starting to rise from the couch, Jayce was there in an instant. He knelt again, this time holding out her slippers, his expression so earnest it almost made her laugh.

“You don’t have to—”

“I do,” he said quietly, sliding the slippers onto her feet with the utmost care. His hands lingered for a moment, wrapping around her ankles to make sure the fabric was snug.

She reached down, brushing her fingers through his hair, and he finally looked up at her. His eyes held a storm of their own, a mixture of worry and something deeper—something vulnerable.

“Jayce,” she said, her voice soft as snow. “I’m okay. I promise.”

He closed his eyes briefly, leaning into her touch. “I know,” he said, but his voice wavered. “I just... I can’t stand the thought of you feeling cold. Not like I did.”

She knew the story by heart—how Jayce and his mother had once been trapped in a storm like this, lost and desperate, the cold seeping into their bones. They’d been saved by a stranger, but the fear had never fully left him.

“You’re safe with me,” he added, almost to himself. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Y/N leaned forward, cupping his face and guiding him to stand. “Come here,” she said, pulling him onto the couch beside her. She shifted the blanket to wrap around both of them, and he hesitated for only a moment before sinking into her warmth.

“You do enough for me,” she whispered, resting her head against his shoulder. “Let me take care of you, too.”

Jayce’s arms came around her, holding her close as the storm raged on outside. For the first time that night, his shoulders relaxed. Together, they sat by the fire, wrapped in warmth, safe from the winter's wrath.

VIKTOR

The early morning light filtered weakly through the frosted windows, but the usual hum of activity in the apartment was conspicuously absent. Instead, Viktor sat on the edge of the bed, his head bowed, one hand gripping his cane, the other pressed tightly against his aching thigh.

His body had betrayed him again.

“I can’t afford to stay home today,” Viktor muttered, his voice tight with frustration. He shifted slightly, trying to rise, but the flare of pain shot up his leg, forcing him back down with a wince.

From the doorway, Y/N watched him, her heart aching at the sight. His resilience was one of the things she admired most about him, but there were moments like these when she wished he’d give himself a break. Slowly, she crossed the room and knelt in front of him, placing a warm hand over his trembling one.

“You’re not going anywhere today, Viktor,” she said firmly, her voice soft but leaving no room for argument. “Not like this.”

He looked at her, his golden-brown eyes clouded with a mix of exhaustion and frustration. “I can’t,” he said, shaking his head. “Jayce needs me. The work—”

“Jayce can handle the work for one day,” she interrupted, her thumb brushing gently over his knuckles. “You trust him, don’t you?”

Viktor hesitated, his jaw tightening. He hated feeling helpless, hated the idea of leaving the burden on Jayce. But as much as he wanted to protest, the pain in his leg and the weariness in his body left him no choice.

“I trust him,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Then trust me, too,” Y/N said, her eyes meeting his with unwavering resolve. “Trust me to take care of you today.”

He sighed, the tension in his shoulders softening slightly. “Fine,” he murmured, though his tone was laced with reluctant acceptance. “But only because I don’t have the strength to argue.”

A small smile tugged at her lips. “Good. Now, let’s get you comfortable.”

She guided him to lie back against the pillows, adjusting them until he could rest without straining himself. Viktor winced as he shifted, but the moment he was settled, Y/N draped a soft, warm blanket over him, tucking it around his shoulders like a cocoon.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, pressing a quick kiss to his temple before heading to the kitchen.

The faint clatter of pots and pans soon filled the air, the comforting sounds of her cooking cutting through the quiet tension of the room. Viktor closed his eyes, letting the rhythmic noises and the faint aroma of her cooking lull him into a rare moment of calm.

When she returned, it was with a tray balanced carefully in her hands. A steaming bowl of soup, a plate of warm bread, and a cup of herbal tea sat neatly arranged. Y/N set the tray on the bedside table and helped him sit up, fluffing the pillows behind him with practiced ease.

“There,” she said, handing him the bowl. “Eat up. And don’t even think about arguing.”

Viktor took the bowl, his lips quirking into a faint smile despite himself. “You’re relentless, Miláčku:” he said softly. (Sweetheart)

“I prefer the term ‘determined,’” she replied with a smirk, sitting beside him as he ate.

After the meal, Y/N set the empty dishes aside and knelt by his side once more. Her hands were warm as they moved to his leg, massaging the tight muscles with careful, deliberate pressure. Viktor tensed at first, his breath hitching, but the soothing rhythm of her touch soon eased the ache, and he let out a long, shuddering sigh.

“Better?” she asked, her voice gentle.

“Much,” he admitted, leaning back against the pillows, his body finally relaxing.

She smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to his knee before shifting to sit beside him again. Her hands moved to his hair, threading through the soft strands in slow, rhythmic motions. Viktor closed his eyes, the sensation pulling him further into a state of peace he hadn’t felt in weeks.

“You’re too good to me,” he murmured, his voice thick with gratitude.

“You deserve it,” Y/N replied, her tone leaving no room for doubt. “Now, stop worrying about the lab, about Jayce, about everything else. Just focus on resting.”

For the rest of the day, Y/N stayed by his side, alternating between spoiling him with warm meals, soothing touches, and quiet reassurances. She didn’t leave him for a moment, keeping him wrapped in comfort and love as the hours passed.

And as night fell, Viktor lay beside her, his head resting against her shoulder, his breathing deep and even. For the first time in a long while, the storm of his thoughts had quieted, leaving only the warmth of her presence to fill the space.

JAYVIK

The day had been long. Too long. Y/N’s head throbbed with the remnants of tension that had built steadily throughout her shift. Between difficult customers demanding impossible solutions, co-workers who seemed more intent on slacking than contributing, and the never-ending pile of tasks that grew by the hour, she’d barely managed to hold herself together.

But she had. Somehow.

By the time she made it home, the weight of the day hung over her like a storm cloud. She unlocked the door, stepping into the warm, familiar space she shared with Jayce and Viktor. The scent of something faintly herbal lingered in the air—likely Viktor’s tea—and the soft hum of conversation filtered from the living room.

“Y/N?” Jayce’s voice called out, his usual warmth shining through even in a single word.

“Welcome back,” Viktor added, quieter but no less sincere.

She didn’t answer, setting her bag down with deliberate care. Her hands trembled slightly as she pulled off her coat and hung it by the door. The sight of her two partners waiting for her, Jayce lounging on the couch and Viktor seated nearby with a book in hand, should’ve been a balm. Instead, it was the final push that broke the dam she’d been holding back all day.

Her breath hitched, tears welling up and spilling over before she could stop them.

“Y/N?” Jayce was on his feet in an instant, his brow creased with worry. Viktor followed a heartbeat later, leaning on his cane as he moved closer.

“What happened?” Viktor asked, his sharp eyes scanning her face as though searching for the source of her pain.

“I just...” Y/N began, her voice cracking as she choked back a sob. “It’s been such a horrible day. Customers yelling at me, staff not doing their jobs, everything just piling up—” Her voice broke entirely, the words dissolving into tears.

Jayce reached her first, pulling her into his strong arms without hesitation. His embrace was firm but gentle, grounding her as she let herself fall apart. “It’s okay,” he murmured, one hand stroking her back. “You’re home now. You don’t have to deal with any of that here.”

Viktor placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch lighter but no less comforting. “Jayce is right,” he said softly. “You’ve done more than enough today. Let us take care of you now.”

Y/N nodded against Jayce’s chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat soothing her even as her tears continued to flow. She felt Viktor’s hand shift to her cheek, his thumb brushing away the dampness with careful precision.

“Sit down,” Jayce said, guiding her toward the couch. “You need to rest.”

Once she was seated, Viktor eased down beside her, his cane resting against the armrest. Jayce knelt in front of her, his large hands enveloping hers.

“Talk to us,” Jayce said, his voice low and steady. “Let it out. Everything.”

And she did. Between shaky breaths and sniffles, Y/N poured out the frustrations of her day—the impossible demands, the lack of support, the feeling of being completely overwhelmed. Through it all, Jayce and Viktor listened intently, their expressions a mix of empathy and quiet anger on her behalf.

“You’re incredible for handling all that,” Viktor said when she finally finished. His hand found hers, squeezing gently. “But you shouldn’t have to carry so much alone.”

Jayce nodded, his jaw tightening. “You’re not alone, okay? Next time something like this happens, let us know. We’ll find a way to help.”

Y/N smiled weakly, the weight on her chest lifting slightly at their words. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Now,” Viktor said, shifting slightly to rest more comfortably, “you’re going to sit here and do absolutely nothing for the rest of the evening.”

“And we’ll handle everything else,” Jayce added, standing and rolling up his sleeves. “I’ll make us some dinner. Viktor, grab her that fuzzy blanket she likes.”

Y/N let out a soft laugh, the sound watery but genuine. “You two are ridiculous.”

“And you love us for it,” Viktor replied, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

Jayce returned moments later with a steaming cup of tea and pressed a kiss to her forehead before heading to the kitchen. Viktor draped the blanket over her lap, his hand lingering on hers as they shared a quiet moment.

As the warmth of their love surrounded her, Y/N felt the tension of the day begin to melt away. No matter how chaotic the world outside became, she knew she had this—these two men who loved her fiercely and completely.

And that was more than enough.

VANDER

The Last Drop was alive with its usual rowdy energy—boisterous laughter, the clink of mugs, and the hum of lively conversation filled the air. Y/N weaved through the crowd with practiced ease, balancing a tray of drinks in one hand while offering polite smiles to the patrons she passed.

It was a busy night, and as much as she enjoyed helping Vander run the bar, the constant motion was beginning to wear her down. Still, she kept her head high and her demeanor calm. That was, until they walked in.

A group of four swaggered through the door, loud and brash from the moment they entered. One man, tall and broad-shouldered, seemed to take the lead, his eyes scanning the room before landing on Y/N. His grin was sharp, and there was a glint in his eyes that made her stomach twist.

As the group settled at a table, Y/N approached to take their orders.

“Evenin’, folks,” she said, keeping her tone professional. “What can I get for you?”

“Well, aren’t you a sweet one?” the tall man drawled, leaning back in his chair. His companions chuckled, and the woman among them shot Y/N a condescending smirk.

“Just here to do my job,” Y/N replied evenly, though her grip on her notepad tightened.

They rattled off their orders, and Y/N turned to leave, but the tall man spoke again. “Don’t forget to smile, darling. You look prettier that way.”

The comment made her skin crawl, but she forced herself to keep walking. She couldn’t let them get to her.

As the night went on, the group only grew more obnoxious. They called for refills before finishing their drinks, sent her back to the bar with complaints about nonexistent issues, and made thinly veiled comments about her looks. At one point, as Y/N was clearing their table, the tall man “accidentally” knocked a glass onto the floor, shattering it.

“Oh, my bad,” he said with a smirk. “Guess you’ll have to clean that up.”

The group erupted into laughter, and the woman gave Y/N a look of mock pity. “Must be hard, working here. But then again, someone’s gotta do it.”

Y/N’s cheeks burned, her chest tightening with frustration and humiliation. But she bit her tongue, quickly gathering the broken glass and retreating to the pantry under the guise of getting more supplies.

As soon as she was alone, the tears she’d been holding back spilled over. She sank onto a small stool, pressing her hands to her face to stifle her sobs.

“Y/N?”

The deep, familiar voice made her freeze. She looked up to see Vander standing in the doorway, concern etched across his face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, stepping inside and crouching in front of her.

Y/N shook her head, wiping at her cheeks. “It’s nothing. I’m just tired.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Vander said gently but firmly. He reached out, brushing a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb. “What happened?”

She hesitated, but the kindness in his eyes broke down her resolve. “It’s that group at table five,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “They’ve been... difficult all night. And I tried to handle it, I really did, but—” Her voice cracked, and she looked away.

Vander’s jaw tightened, his blue eyes darkening. He straightened, his broad frame filling the doorway as he looked back toward the bar.

“Stay here,” he said, his voice low but steady.

“Vander, you don’t have to—”

“I’ll handle it.”

Y/N watched as he left, her heart pounding.

Back in the bar, Vander approached table five, his presence commanding immediate attention. The group’s laughter died down as he loomed over them, his arms crossed and his expression like thunder.

“You think it’s funny to treat my staff like that?” he said, his voice calm but with an edge that sent a shiver through the room.

The tall man opened his mouth, likely to retort, but Vander cut him off. “I don’t care what you think you’re owed. You’re done here. Pay your tab, leave a tip, and get out.”

The group exchanged uneasy glances.

“I said now,” Vander added, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Grumbling, the tall man threw some coins on the table, and the group shuffled out under Vander’s watchful gaze. Once they were gone, he collected the coins and added a generous tip out of his own pocket before heading back to the pantry.

Y/N looked up as he entered, her eyes still puffy.

“They’re gone,” he said simply, holding out the coins. “This is for you.”

She stared at him, then shook her head. “I can’t take that, Vander.”

“Yes, you can,” he insisted, pressing the money into her hand. “You’ve earned it. And more than that, you deserve better than how they treated you.”

Her lip quivered, and she threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Vander wrapped his arms around her, his embrace solid and reassuring. “Always,” he murmured. “Now, take a break. I’ll handle the rest tonight.”

For the first time that evening, Y/N felt the tension in her chest ease. With Vander at her side, she knew she was safe—and valued.

SILCO

The dim glow of the lamps in Silco’s office cast long shadows on the walls, but their usual warmth did nothing to ease the tension in the air. Silco paced back and forth behind his desk, his movements sharp and deliberate. His mismatched eyes flicked toward the papers scattered across the surface, their contents detailing the fallout of a deal gone sour.

His jaw clenched, and he pinched the bridge of his nose, a rare crack in his otherwise impenetrable façade. The task had been straightforward, a key step in solidifying his influence in Zaun. But now, it was unraveling, threatening to spiral out of control.

“Idiots,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low and venomous. “How hard is it to follow simple instructions?”

Y/N stood quietly near the door, watching him with concern. She had seen him like this before—frustrated, coiled like a spring ready to snap—but this time was different. The weight of the failure seemed to press down on him more than usual, and it pained her to see him like this.

“Silco,” she called gently, her voice cutting through the oppressive silence.

He stopped mid-stride, his gaze snapping to her. For a moment, the stress in his expression softened at the sight of her, but it quickly returned as he waved toward the papers.

“This was supposed to be a turning point,” he said, his voice strained. “Instead, it’s a mess. And now I have to fix it before it becomes a disaster.”

Y/N approached him slowly, her hand resting lightly on his arm. “You don’t have to do it alone,” she said softly.

Silco’s eyes searched hers, doubt flickering briefly in his gaze. “This isn’t your burden to bear.”

“It is if it’s yours,” she replied firmly. “Let me handle it.”

He hesitated, but the resolute look in her eyes left no room for argument. Silco trusted few people in the world, but Y/N had proven herself time and again. With a small nod, he relented.

“All right,” he said, his voice low. “But be careful.”

Y/N smiled, brushing a hand lightly over his cheek before turning to leave. “I’ll do more than be careful. I’ll make it right.”

=

Y/N moved through the dimly lit corridors of the industrial district with purpose, Silco’s top lieutenants trailing behind her. She barked orders with an authority that left no room for hesitation, her voice steady and commanding.

“You,” she said, pointing to one of the men. “Secure the shipment and make sure it gets to the drop point without issue. And you,” she turned to another, “get word to our contact that we’re renegotiating. I want them ready to talk by the time I return.”

The men exchanged uncertain glances but quickly snapped to attention under her sharp gaze. They knew better than to question her—she carried Silco’s trust, and that was enough for them.

Over the next few hours, Y/N worked tirelessly, adjusting plans, smoothing over tensions, and ensuring every detail was accounted for. By the time she returned to Silco’s office, her clothes were smudged with the grime of Zaun’s underbelly, but her expression was triumphant.

Silco looked up from his desk as she entered, his mismatched eyes scanning her for any sign of trouble.

“It’s done,” Y/N announced, dropping a ledger onto his desk. “The shipment’s secure, the deal’s renegotiated, and we even managed to get better terms than before.”

Silco stared at her, momentarily stunned. “Better terms?”

She smirked, crossing her arms. “Let’s just say their desperation worked in our favor.”

For the first time that night, a genuine smile tugged at the corners of Silco’s lips. He stood, stepping around the desk to pull her into his arms.

“You’re remarkable,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Y/N leaned into him, her hands resting lightly on his chest. “You’d do the same for me.”

Silco chuckled softly, his tension finally melting away. “Perhaps. But not as flawlessly.”

She grinned, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. “That’s why we make such a good team.”

Silco’s grip on her tightened slightly, his mismatched eyes filled with something rare—peace. For the first time that night, the chaos seemed manageable, and he had her to thank for it.

POWDER/JINX

The sound of clattering tools and muttered curses echoed through Jinx’s lair. Her workstation was a chaotic mess—gears, wires, and pieces of scrap metal strewn everywhere. At the center of it all was Jinx, her blue braids whipping around as she shoved components aside and growled in frustration.

“Why won’t you work?!” she snapped, slamming her hands on the table. Her latest invention—a bomb with intricate carvings and glowing accents—lay in pieces before her, stubbornly refusing to cooperate.

With a sharp huff, Jinx grabbed a wrench and flung it across the room. It clanged loudly against a wall, joining the growing pile of discarded tools and failed prototypes.

As her anger bubbled over, the door to her lair creaked open. Y/N stepped inside, her footsteps soft but deliberate. She paused to take in the scene—Jinx’s flushed face, the scattered debris, and the faint smell of singed wires hanging in the air.

“Hey, Bluebird,” Y/N said gently, her tone filled with the kind of warmth only a mother figure could offer.

Jinx froze mid-tantrum, her hands still clutching a pair of pliers. She turned to Y/N, her mismatched eyes wide and wild. “Don’t ‘Bluebird’ me right now, Y/N! This stupid thing won’t work, and I’ve tried everything! It’s broken, I’m broken—everything’s broken!”

Y/N smiled softly, stepping closer but keeping her movements slow and non-threatening. “Nothing’s broken,” she said calmly, her voice steady. “Sometimes things just need a fresh perspective.”

Jinx scoffed, slumping into a chair and crossing her arms. “A fresh perspective? Great. Got any of those lying around, genius?”

Y/N chuckled, kneeling beside her and resting a hand on her knee. “You know, my mom used to tell me something when I’d get stuck on a problem,” she began, her tone warm and nostalgic. “She’d say, ‘If your head’s on fire, you can’t see the flames.’”

Jinx blinked, her brow furrowing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Y/N explained, “when you’re too worked up, you can’t think clearly. You’ve got to calm the storm in here first,” she tapped Jinx’s temple gently, “before you can fix anything else.”

Jinx stared at her for a moment, her lips twitching as if she wanted to argue. But the sincerity in Y/N’s eyes was disarming, and she let out a long, exaggerated sigh.

“Fine,” she muttered, leaning back in her chair. “Storm’s calmed. Now what?”

Y/N grinned, pulling up a stool and examining the bomb on the table. “Now we take it slow and figure this out together.”

Over the next hour, Y/N and Jinx worked side by side. Y/N’s calm demeanor balanced Jinx’s chaotic energy, and they carefully retraced each step of the bomb’s construction.

“Here,” Y/N said at one point, pointing to a misaligned wire. “This might be the issue. Looks like it’s not making a proper connection.”

Jinx leaned in, squinting at the spot. “Huh. How’d I miss that?”

“Because your head was on fire,” Y/N teased, earning a small laugh from Jinx.

Together, they adjusted the wire and made a few more tweaks. When the bomb finally whirred to life, its glowing accents pulsating rhythmically, Jinx’s face lit up with childlike glee.

“Ha! I knew it would work!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around Y/N.

Y/N laughed, hugging her back tightly. “You did all the hard work, sweetheart. I just helped you see it.”

Jinx pulled back slightly, her grin softening into something more tender. “You’re the best, you know that?”

Y/N smirked, brushing a strand of blue hair from Jinx’s face. “Of course I do. And don’t forget—you’ve got this. Even when it’s tough.”

Jinx’s laughter echoed through the lair, the tension from earlier completely melted away. For now, she felt safe, grounded, and understood—thanks to Y/N’s unshakable presence.