#crystal rose jayce

[aurelion-solar]

Crystal Rose Seraphine, Vayne, Jayce, Gwen & Prestige Gwen - Wild Rift Exclusive Splash Art

[bringthekaos]

Ok but after getting home from the gala he needs extra kissies from Viktor 🥺🥺🥺 he is just so tired of playing pretty boy for research money

So sorry this one took so long to answer, but this one is just too good, it deserved a ficlet too!! (This is in reference to this ask about Crystal Rose Jayce.)

Fic is not explicit, but it is suggestive as feck.

Crystal Veneer

Jayce didn’t mean to take his anger out on the door to the lab—the concussive bang echoing through the wide-open space like a gunshot as he kicked it inward with so much force it slammed into the wall and dented it. But the stress of the evening had just been building and building and building like a flame with infinite fuels, and he just had to let it out.

Galas. Parties. Schmoozing with the most conceited and stuck-up bureaucrats Piltover had to offer, and all just so his research could continue. It was a vicious circle, an Ouroboros of depressing proportions—have idea, need funding, kiss asses, get funding, execute idea, repeat ad nauseam. There was no getting ahead of it either, because there was never enough—he’d always end up supplementing the funds with his own when he inevitably depleted it all in the process. So there was never excess, never a little bit to put away to kickstart the next project.

And he was fairly certain they all wanted it that way—the idea of him having free rein with his own time and research scared them. They didn’t want to be left behind. So instead they kept him on an ever-tightening leash so that they could all slap their names next to his on anything and everything he invented. So that no idea was singular, nothing belonged to him—in the end, everything he made belonged to his investors. He was just a veneer on top so that it would sell.

He grumbled to himself as he bit at the middle finger of his left glove, ripping it off with his teeth and tossing it onto his desk as the evening played out in his head—the fake smiles, the rigid posture he’d had to hold that now had his shoulder blades burning. The scattered conversations and gossip about him, as if he wasn’t standing right there. Calling him ‘Golden Boy’ and ‘Defender’ and ‘Man of Progress’ in tones that suggested he was nothing more than that—their little trophy they could hold up high when they needed something to brag about. So many monikers, and yet he was fairly certain some of them had forgotten his actual name at this point.

It was a heavy, raucous clang, clang, clang like rotary chains that startled Jayce from his brooding. The sound echoed from the far corner of the lab, eerie and haunting, and he frantically spun around to meet it—raising the Mercury Hammer and yanking on the trigger to open the hammerhead and charge it.

The source of the sound was immediately clear as the azure glow of the hammer illuminated the space—Viktor, the Machine Herald himself, dramatically clapping his metal hands together and meandering in from the shadows.

“Bravo, Defender,” he drawled, punctuating it with one more slow, metallic clap of his hands. “I’ve seen whores give more convincing performances.”

Jayce released a long, annoyed sigh; letting the hammer droop in his hold as he rolled his eyes and turned back to face his desk. He didn’t typically turn his back on Viktor, especially when he didn’t yet know what kind of mood his old friend was in, but… after the night he’d had? He would honestly welcome the Hexclaw blow to his spine. At least he would finally feel something, even if it was for target practice.

“The fuck do you want, V? I’m really not in the mood,” he snapped, unceremoniously tossing the hammer down to thunder onto the floor. He wouldn’t typically do that either, relinquish his only weapon, but he couldn’t bear its weight anymore. He’d been carrying it all night; just another prop for the partygoers to ogle. A prop held by a prop—bit on the nose, if you asked him. But then again… no one typically did.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Viktor deadpanned back, and Jayce could hear the reverb of those metal boot heels hitting stone as he took a few steps closer. “You got your funding, didn’t you? That’s what matters—so you had to prance around like a pretty peacock for their enjoyment to get it… mm. Let’s face it, you’ve always been good at that part, haven’t you Defender?”

Defender… defender, defender… pretty boy, Golden Boy. Dance for them, boy, it’s why you’re here.

Rage built at the base of his throat, making it feel like he’d swallowed molten glass. His chest went tight and his hands balled into fists so hard that his fingernails curled into the oak surface of the desk. Pain shot through his jaw as he viciously ground his teeth, but it wasn’t enough to bite back the scream,

“Can just one fucking person call me by my goddamn name?!”

And before he’d even registered moving, he had grabbed the bottle of liquor before him (it was a gift from Camille—she knew he hated these funding galas, so she’d sent it over as a pre-game gift… complete with red velvet bow) and flung it ferociously against the nearest wall. The spray of liquor and shattered glass rained down onto his desk and clothes alike, and the sharp chill of it was enough to douse his anger with regret.

That was a gift, she was just being nice—why do you always take your anger out on the wrong people? Punish the wrong people? Maybe they’re all right to write you off, disregard any usefulness you may have in exchange for displaying you like a trophy. At least you can’t hurt anyone if you just shut up and smile…

“Oh, Jayce…”

The maelstrom in his brain all came to a screeching halt—Viktor’s voice, now calm and coaxing and so achingly smooth as it cascaded over the sharp edges of Jayce’s anger that it was smothered altogether.

“Jayce…”

A bone-shaking shudder went down Jayce’s spine as Viktor’s weight, Viktor’s warmth was suddenly pressed wholeheartedly to his back. And those metal hands, so sure and strong, began to slither around Jayce’s waist to sprawl over his stomach—ruching up his shirt and untucking it as they went. They soothed over his ribcage, following the lines of his finely pressed waistcoat until they were splayed out on his pecs, where they roughly pulled him back hard against Viktor’s body.

Viktor’s breath was warm and moist on the back of Jayce’s neck as those familiar lips followed his hairline and pressed a kiss there, just behind his ear.

“My Jayce…”

Jayce’s knees nearly buckled at the words, so sensually growled into his sensitive skin that he suddenly felt feverish—hot and achy, shivery and weak…

The hum of the Hexclaw caught his attention though, and for a moment he almost panicked—fuck, let my guard down, let my stupid emotions get the better of me, and now he’s got me ripe for the pulverizing…

But instead, it simply curled down and around Jayce’s front, delicately plucking the violet rose boutonnières from his lapel. It curved back then, holding the flowers out and waiting as Viktor leaned in and inhaled of them, long and slow.

“Mm…” he grunted, the sound vaguely dissatisfied, and then the Hexclaw was unceremoniously (and rather comically) tossing the flowers away.

“Window dressing,” Viktor continued, and suddenly Jayce was being spun around with force, lifted, and plopped back down onto the desk, his knees pushed wide to accommodate Viktor’s hips. Jayce yelped with surprise, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed it… Viktor’s strength, the unbridled ease with which he handled Jayce’s not-inconsiderable size. To be the focus of Viktor’s attention, to be seen and analyzed and handled. Like he was something worthy of the effort, and not just some fancy centerpiece to be ignored.

And now that he was recovering his bearings, Jayce found Viktor’s mask removed—the sound of it clattering to the floor going almost unnoticed as Jayce lost himself in those familiar glowing eyes.

“This was what I always hated about Piltover, Jayce,” Viktor positively purred Jayce’s name again, and it soothed some burning need that had been scratching at Jayce’s ribcage. Say it again… say it again and again and again, please, then maybe I won’t catch fire. Or maybe I will, but either way, just say it again…

“They always felt the need to decorate that which was objectively already perfect,” Viktor continued, one hand gripping Jayce’s wrist and bringing his one still-gloved hand up between them.

He held Jayce’s gaze with hawklike intensity as the Hexclaw came down, gently pinched at the middle finger of his glove, and pulled it off. And Jayce gulped past a monstrous frog in his throat as Viktor slowly leaned in, placing warm, velvety kisses to each finger, one by torturous one.

And once he’d finished, his hands slid down beneath the lapels of Jayce’s evening coat and slowly, sensually pushed it back and off, until the metal embellishments rang out against the desk. Before Jayce could even re-situate his arms, he found Viktor’s hands wrapped firmly around his lower back and pulling.

The movement had Jayce fully flush against Viktor’s chest, and he could do little else but whine as Viktor nuzzled into his neck again, asking, suggesting. And Jayce couldn’t comply fast enough; rolling his head back and gripping at Viktor’s armor for purchase as those lovely lips latched on once more—biting and kissing and sucking until his skin was moist and hot.

“My Jayce…”

Jayce could hardly breathe now, the intensity of this need constricting like a python around his lungs. Your Jayce, yes, yours, yours, always yours. Show me you want me, show me you need me, show me I’m not just some pretty thing you can prop up on a pedestal and ogle…

Jayce’s skull ached when the Hexclaw forced him back upright, but the pain melted away as he was met with Viktor’s lips crashing into his own. He wholly gave into it, his entire body curling into Viktor’s as those soft, supple lips sucked away all the anger and frustration.

Viktor tasted of something sweet and fruity, something familiar and nostalgic… and Jayce chuckled against Viktor’s lips when he figured it out. It was those prickly pear sweets Jayce kept in a jar on his desk, for those evenings when he needed a sugar kick to keep him going. Viktor must have raided the lab while he waited for Jayce to return from that ridiculous Crystal Rose Gala—likely polishing off half the jar, with that insatiable sweet tooth of his.

“I see someone found my stash,” Jayce cooed into Viktor’s mouth, punctuating it by taking Viktor’s lower lip and sucking it between his own.

“What can I say, I was bored,” Viktor replied, his augmented hand beginning to soothe back and forth over Jayce’s thigh, driving him to maddening distraction.

“Impatient as ever,” Jayce chided back, pecking a single quick kiss before going on, “you do have to share me…”

Viktor growled back at him, his torso angling forward so quickly that Jayce had no choice but to fall back against the desk, thighs squeezing at Viktor’s hips for stability.

Viktor prowled in over him, caging him in with those heavy metal arms and crouching low so his lips barely brushed Jayce’s.

“No. No, I don’t. I don’t share with ungrateful Pilties. If they aren’t going to appreciate you, Jayce, then I’m just going to have to keep you…”

He propped himself up with the Hexclaw then, both hands joining at Jayce’s chest to begin unbuttoning his waistcoat and shirt.

“…all to myself.”

Jayce lost track of time after that, all thoughts of being nothing more than a decoration obliterated by Viktor’s thorough, doting hands.

[magical-apple]

• Prestige Crystal Rose Gwen • Crystal Rose Seraphine • Crystal Rose Vayne • Crystal Rose Jayce — Wild Rift Promo Art

[cheaploafs]

we are drawing today i promise

[league-of-skins]

Crystal Rose Seraphine (Legendary), Gwen (+ Prestige), Jayce, and Vayne on Wild Rift

[purple-soika]

Crystal Rose Jayce ✨

[thedustybunny]

Chamomile kisses - Chapter 13

Viktor (Arcane) x Fem!Reader

As the days passed, (Y/n) continued her attempts to greet Viktor warmly, but his response remained consistent – a concerned look, as if he was ready to check her temperature at any moment. Despite his aloofness, there was a newfound camaraderie between her and Jayce. They would occasionally exchange knowing glances, and smiles that hinted at secrets between them.

Lunchtime arrived, and (Y/n) was joined by Jayce at her favorite spot. They exchanged smiles and pleasantries before diving into a conversation that had been on her mind.

Jayce, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, leaned in slightly and said, "So, you've got a ‘secret’ admirer, huh?”

(Y/n) chuckled and nodded, leaning in closer as well. "Oh, ever since the chocolates I’ve just been over the moon!."

Jayce's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Did you get anything else~?"

Grinning, (Y/n) continued, "He left me flowers – roses, chamomile, and lavender. Such a sweet combination."

Jayce raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained. "Flowers and chocolates, classic moves."

As (Y/n) recounted the gifts she had received, her cheeks grew warmer with each mention. "There were crystals, Jayce, a labradorite to remind me of my own eyes and a tigers eye to remind me of his."

Jayce chuckled at her blushing, clearly delighted by the situation. "That's pretty poetic, don't you think?"

Trying to hide her embarrassment, (Y/n) nodded and finally revealed the most recent gift. "And just yesterday, a silver bracelet adorned with tiny opals. It's... overwhelming."

Jayce couldn't contain his laughter any longer and gave her an affectionate pat on the back. "Well, it sounds like someone is quite taken with you. I've never seen you blush this much!"

(Y/n) playfully rolled her eyes, but deep down, she couldn't deny the warmth these mysterious gifts brought to her heart.

Their laughter echoed through the cozy cafe as (Y/n) and Jayce sat across from each other, sharing a light-hearted moment amidst their busy lives at the academy. Jayce leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper, "So, you're still convinced it's Viktor?"

(Y/n) chuckled, sipping her tea before replying, "Well, who else could it be? The tigers eye matched his eye color, and we did spend that unforgettable night locked in with the hex crystals."

Jayce nodded in agreement, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "True, true. It's got Viktor written all over it. He's just too stubborn to admit his feelings."

(Y/n) leaned back in her chair, her cheeks slightly flushed at the thought. "You might be onto something, Jayce. A secret admirer in the form of our grumpy colleague."

As they shared theories and playful banter about Viktor's hidden affections, (Y/n) and Jayce reveled in the ongoing mystery, their camaraderie growing stronger over the shared belief that their enigmatic secret admirer was none other than Viktor himself.

The anticipation in (Y/n)'s heart built as the evening drew closer. She put the finishing touches on her work, excitement bubbling beneath her calm exterior. At precisely 7:30, Jayce walked into her lab, and she couldn't contain her joy. She practically leaped into his arms, hugging him tightly as she shared her latest discovery.

"Jayce, you won't believe it! Another gift, and this time with a note inviting me to meet them outside the abandoned lab near the western woods at 8!" Her words tumbled out in a rush, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

Jayce grinned, genuinely happy for her. "That's amazing, (Y/n)! I'm so glad for you. You better get going if you don't want to be late."

With a final squeeze of reassurance, Jayce walked her outside the academy. As she headed towards the rendezvous point, (Y/n) couldn't help but wonder if this mysterious secret admirer would finally reveal themselves tonight.

[movedtoferinehuntress]

⌜ ♥ @elisethetraveller ⌟ ―― Caitlyn ► 𝑀𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑒𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑆𝑦𝑚𝑏𝑜𝑙 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠 = ❝ 🧸 - Does your muse own any sentimental objects from their past? What makes it/them so special? ❞

Caitlyn wandered around her room with Wolfy, eyes taking in what little she had. Despite her luxurious life, Caitlyn had a minimal amount of objects in her room. The moment they enter the room to the left was shelves of trophies. Several were for her rifle events, a contest every year at the Hunter Pavillion on the outskirts of Piltover. There were also a few for her musical competitions and having the best composition or best sound. None of them mattered though. Vases of flowers and elephant ear plants were by the marblesque pillars, glistening from the sunlight that came in through her window.

There was a little musical box with a ballet dancer on it that would play a cute little song if she wound it up. On the right side of her room was a large dresser covered with pictures of her family, herself, and some of Jayce and herself as well. A large painting on the wall was of several horses running in an open field, with sun rays shining down on black and white horses. "Watch out," Caitlyn offered, waving her hand around the massive map of the undercity in the center of her room, decorated with red ribbons and her work of finding territories or the locations of incidents in search of the truth. Papers sprawled all over the floor and some illegally stolen documents from the enforcer's office that she took without permission. A small picture of Grayson could be seen stuck out of the folders as she walked toward the corner of her room.

"Here," Caitlyn said, as she opened up the glass shelving. "All of these stones, I've collected them over the years," Caitlyn said as she reached down toward one. She picked up a stone that looked like a budding flower of blue, and around it was calcite crystals infused around the dark blue. "This is Azurite, it reminds me of a sort of abstract rose, see," Caitlyn said, pointing at the way the rock formed what looked like petals. "This was one of the first gifts Jayce gave me. I've always been given gifts but never with meaning. I got this when I was sixteen, it was the first gift that someone thought about and put time and effort into it. There were very few people who cared to get to know me and what I liked," Caitlyn allowed Wolfy to hold it for a minute before tucking it back inside the shelving. "I'm quite proud of my rock collection,"

[sporadiceagleheart]

Alice Dasilva Aguiar, nine, seven-year-old Elsie Dot Stancombe, six-year-old Bebe King, Saffie-Rose Brenda Roussos, Lily Peters, Olivia Pratt Korbel, Elizabeth Shelley, Sara Sharif, Charlotte Figi, Jersey Dianne Bridgeman, Sidra Hassouna, Sloan Mattingly, Audrii Cunningham, Lucy Morgan, Star Hobson, Ava Jordan Wood, Leiliana Wright, Aubreigh Paige Wyatt, Tristyn Bailey, Paula Golik, Lily Rose Diaz, Colby Curtin, Layla Salazar, Jayce Carmelo Luevanos, Maite Yuleana Rodriguez, Makenna Lee Elrod, Eliahna Torres, Nevaeh Bravo, Rylie Nicholls, Riley Faith Steep, Kenzlee Marie Cook, Norah Lee Howard, Mercedes Losoya, Judith Barsi and Heather O'Rourke, Roselind Nadine Earles, Maria Agnes Virovacz Barsi, Evelyn Ann Lea, Mary DeLourdes Lea, Charles Russell “Russ” Lea, Evelyn Russe Lea, William Henry Russe, Clara B. Northway Russe, Charles Russell Lea Sr., Gloria Alice Killilea Lea, Marie Joan Lyons Killilea, Kathryn Marie “Kay” Lyons Monroe, James Hines “Jimmy” Killilea, Catherine Ellen Noe, Arthur Joseph Noe, Richard Allen Noe, Elizabeth Mary Noe, Marie Noe, Arthur Allen “Art” Noe, Brandon David Jackson, Michael Daniel Smith, Joseph “Joe” Jackson, Simuel Joseph “Sam” Jackson, Israel Nero Jackson Sr., Emeline “Emmie” Williams Jackson, Dr Israel Sigmond Joseph “Gordon” Williams Sr., Harvest Lee Williams Sr., Maggie Eunice “Maggie U” Williams, Verlener “Big Momma” Williams Hines, Pauline “Polly” Hines Bell, Flores Ann “Willie Ann” harris Martin, Felix Harvest Williams Sr., Shack Warren Williams, Bull “Night Crow” Williams, Mose Moses Williams, Amanda Jean “Mandy Jean” Williams Tobias, Sanders Allen “Richard” Williams Sr., Crystal Lee King Jackson, Elizabeth Ann “Liza Ann” Jackson Harding, James “Jim” Jackson, Gena Jackson Anderson, Janie Beatrice Jackson Hall, Samuel Malone Jackson Sr., Lula Mae Jackson, TSGT Lawrence Chester “Larry” Jackson, Mary A. “Angie” Jackson, Martin Luther James Jackson Sr., Michael Jackson, Bella Marie “Bells” Rzucek, Nico Lee Rzucek, Celeste Cathryn “CeCe” Rzucek, Shan'ann Cathryn Rzucek, Bella Nevaeh Amoroso Bond, Isabella Grace “Bella” Muntean, Bella Thomson, Juanita Horton, Bessie Barker, Louis XVII, Lois Janes, Sharon Lee Gallegos, Mary Crocker, Betty LouAnn McInnes, Jackie Cazares, Arthur Labinjo-Hughes, Brandon Lee Jackson, Lisa Marie Presley, Elvis Presley, Benjamin Storm Presley “Ben” Keough, Jesse Garon Presley, Octavia Luvenia “Doll” Mansell Smith, Retha Smith Loyd Riley, Gladys Love Smith Presley, Minnie Mae Hood Presley, Vernon Elvis Presley, Eunice C Cloman Jackson, Josephine Jackson, Ruth Marie Noe Hulet,

[thunderousone]

Chapter 4

Summary: Eirene is dead... or at least she should be?

TW: profanity, (eventual... it's slow burn get over it) graphic depictions of sex, pain kink, childhood trauma, parental trauma, chronic pain

Rating: 18+, MDNI

Comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated 🤍

masterlist | read it first on ao3

At least the storm stopped in death, she thought to herself. She didn't expect it to smell like petrichor and garden roses though.  

Eirene coughed.  

I can cough and smell... She thought. Had she survived?  

The feeling of nothingness was replaced by the staining feeling of sore muscles. Surely, she had to be in heaven, but then why can she still feel the aliments of her humanly body?  

Behind her lids, shadow and light began to flicker and she could feel herself bubbling to consciousness. Alive.

"How was she able to do that," she heard a voice growl. She slammed her eyelids shut tight and tried to remain as still as possible.  

"I don't know, Vír, but what I do know is that you need to calm down, you're only making things worse for them. Calm. Down" A second unfamiliar voice. This one's voice level, soft. "Plus, I think she's awake," 

Shit. Okay. She tried to remember some of the self-defense one of her housemates, Jayce, had taught her. Palm of the hand up into the nose. Knee to the groin. And then run.  

Her body involuntarily tensed out of self-defense and she felt a warm breeze push her hair off of her face.  

"Hey, hey, hey, calm down," the second voice said, coaxing her to consciousness. Eirene let her eyes float open. Gods did her muscles hurt! "Don't sit up, though you may have survived, it's most likely not without great cost to your body, take it easy".  

As her heavy eyelids opened, Eirene quested if she truly had survived. She must be in heaven.  Before her knelt a figure with fair, pale features and a tangle of white hair that seemed to sway gently in the warm breeze circulating through the room. His presence emitted a comforting warmth, and she couldn't help but notice the soft, silvery hue of his eyes. His freckles that speckled across his cheeks gave him an air of youthfulness, he couldn't be much other than herself.  

"An angel?" She mumbled softly, her voice barely more than a whisper. The breeze kicked up as the man laughed and the voice behind him choked.  

"You could call me that," he smiled teasingly. "Vír, get her some water and something to eat." He called behind him.  

"You truly expect me to play baby sitter and housemaid in my own home?" With that the white haired man looked at her and whispered, "Stay here," and went to go talk with the other person in the room.  

Eirene slowly sat up, every muscle in her arms and back seemed to protest against the movement, but she had to figure out where she was. She had to figure out how to get home and make sure Violet was alright.  

She propped herself against the rolled back of the chaise she seemed to be placed on and took in her surroundings.  

Marble walls, smooth and pristine, surrounded the room. The marbles pale surfaces adorned with delicate veining that seemed to mimic distant thunderclouds and strikes of lightning. A few large glass windows sat in the opposite corner of the room, outside a gloomy day as normal.  

The chaise beneath her and the pillows and blanket surrounding her were a symphony of soft grays. Plush gray textiles draped furniture and billowing curtains. Not much color to be seen.  

Above the main area that lay in front of her, a large crystal chandelier hung from the high ceiling, it's multifaceted gems refracting ambient light into a gentle, diffused glow. The crystals almost looked like drops of rain.  

A grand staircase, its marble balustrade intricately carved with motifs of swirling winds, swept upward with an air of majestic grace sat in the corner of the room.  

Wherever she was, the tranquil stillness unsettled Eirene, as if time itself had chosen to slow its relentless march within these hallowed halls. 

She slowly swung her legs to the side of the chaise and put her feet on the ground. Her boots had been removed and all that remained were the plush gray cotton socks of hers. She looked down at her pants and shirt and they seemed to be intact. Something that she'd never seen after being struck with lightning before.  

Through sheer force of will alone, she shifted her weight to her tired feet and stood up. The room spun for just a minute but she gripped the top of the lounge sofa and steadied herself. She slowly walked toward the direction that she saw the two figures walk off to. Down through the living area she turned and saw an open air kitchen, not too dissimilar of the one that she had back at home. A large, marble island lay in the middle with two tall stools on the one side. On the other a range and some supplies. All pristine and white marble or gray stone.  

The man with silvery hair was the first to notice her presence.  

"Whoa, hey there, take a seat, seriously, you look like you're going to fall right over," he said, swiftly moving to her side and helping her settle onto one of the tall stools. Meanwhile, the figure attending to the food remained focused with his back to her. From behind, she could glimpse the soft curls of gray hair, reminiscent of billowing clouds, and the broad shoulders that framed his form.  

"Where am I? What happened? Who are you?" Eirene steadied herself, her hands resting against the cool marble countertop.  

"I'm Lyire," the white-haired man replied, a warm and welcoming smile on his face was already charming Eirene. He playfully nudged the other man's side, prompting a sharp look from the tall, gray-haired figure beside him. "But you can call me Angel, of course. This is Vír."  

Vír turned around and placed a white porcelain plate before her, bearing warm bread and fresh pink jam. He poured a glass of water from a nearby pitcher.  

If Lyire were an angel, what did that make Vír?  

Vír's complexion was pale, much like Lyire's, but the resemblance ended there.  

His eyes, a solid shade of gray, held no hints or variations in color. They seemed to pierce through Eirene, making her feel exposed, as if he had been watching her all along. The tangle of curls on his head was wild falling near his brow line. His features, meticulously chiseled with divine precision, appeared stern. He possessed a well-defined face, marked by delicate facial features, including a straight nose, full lips, and a gentle jawline. His white linen shirt clung to his skin as if he were a statue masterfully carved by master, long ago.  

Yet, despite the sculpted appearance, Vír was no angel.  

His eyes bore into Eirene with an intensity that seemed to judge her every move, as if she had done something personal to him or something.  

"Where am I? What happened? Can you take me home?" Eirene was cautious of eating or drinking here in a place that seemed so otherworldly, but the loud noises her stomach was making overpowered her common sense and she began to eat.  

"You're in my home, human," Vír said with irritation in his voice. "Remind me why again that is, Lyire?" He began idly cleaning up the things he had out to make food, struggling to even look at Eirene.  

"You found yourself in the mortal realm during one of the storms," Lyire began. "Lightning struck you, but instead of burning, you channeled it. You controlled it." He reached out for her hands, his fingers outstretched, and Eirene, driven by instinct, pulled her hands away. Lyire persisted, gently grasping her wrists and holding her hands out, palms upturned, for Eirene to inspect. 

Her hands were not her own, or at least, not as they once were. Upon her palms, near the base of her middle fingers, a bolt of lightning began on each hand, like a tattoo. They originated there, then arced upward, winding around her hands and enveloping her arms. Eirene couldn't tell where the marks vanished beneath the fabric of her sleeves. A gasp left Eirene's mouth as she inspected her hands and arms.  

"How did you do it?" Vír didn't even deign no turn around and look at Eirene when he addressed her. He just continued mindlessly puttering around the kitchen, his attention now caught to something outside the window there above the skin.  

"How did I do what?" She couldn't help the irritation in her voice. She swallowed down some water and rolled the sleeves of her shirt down to cover the markings.  

"No one is able to command elements, let alone elements under the Thunderous Ones control," Lyire stood at the edge of the marble counter top, eyes staring at the markings that still revealed themselves on her hands. She slipped her hands under the countertop and placed them firmly in her lap.  

"By all accounts you should be ash on the ground of the mortal world. And yet, here you are," Vír turned on his heel to address her now, predatorially walking forward, eyes examining her up and down and into her very core.  

"I don't know," Eirene admitted. One second she knew Violet would be struck, the next minute she shoved her, replacing her and bracing for the strike. Her heart ached, Violet. Please let her be okay. Please.  

"That’s the thing. No one knows," Lyire stood and started cleaning up the food in front of her, refilling her water from the pitcher before her. His voice was soft and kind, she felt that he truly was confused, maybe concerned. Vír however seemed irritated. "We were discussing this while you were out, whatever you did must have really done a number on you because you've been asleep for days now. I think the only thing we can do is once you're feeling up to it, we take you to the other Guardians and let them decide what to do with you." His white hair flipped in front of his eyes for a second and he blew it away with his mouth, the wind strong enough to blow the strands fully back and out of his face.  

"I'm sorry, the Guardians? What are those? And what are you?" Eirene watched as Vír kept his gaze studying her. Lyire appeared amused at his irritation.  

"I thought we went over this already?" Lyire teased. "I'm an Angel, remember?" And he gave her a sly and flirty wink.  

"No really," she pressed. Lyire's eyes met Vír's for just a moment and Vír's eyes shot down and back, a silent confirmation between the two of them.     "Well, you're from the mortal plane yes?" Eirene looked at him unbelieving. "You are," he continued. "We are the Guardians. We control different elements and forces of nature on the mortal plane. I'm Lyire, the Wind Guide." He nodded his head to her with a soft smile. Just that motion sent a soft and warm breeze her way. "That is Vír, the Thunderous One. Some people call him the Storm," Eriene felt her stomach churn. She thought she was going to be sick. The storms that ravaged her world. The storms that look her parents. The storms that almost hurt Violet.  

She pressed back and stood up from her chair, her legs betraying her beneath her as she wobbled to stay up right. Lyire put a hand on her back to keep her steady but she pushed it away. "You," she accused, her voice breaking. "It's you. You seemed so familiar, and that’s why." Anger now bubbling up, threating to spill out everywhere. "Lyranth is a mess, people live and die under your reign of terror. You, you," she struggled to come up with the words.  

"Monster," he growled, the word like thunder on his lips. 

She turned her back and ran, her socks slipping on the marble floor. Out, I need to get out she thought to herself. She could hear Lyire calling to her from the kitchen but the noise in her head was so loud it felt like it was going to burst. He called again and she turned around, he and Vír were approaching and it was all she could do to not be swallowed up by the pain in her chest and the noise in her head.  

"STOP!" She screamed, she almost couldn't recognize her own voice. Lightning ripped through the ceiling, marble dust flying everywhere. A gust of wind quickly blew it out of the way and the bright bolt of lightning shattered through the floor in front of them, leaving nothing but smoke and dust in front of them.  

Her knees felt weak, she could feel pain creeping down her shoulders and arms, and for the second time, her world went dark.  

[aurelion-solar]

Crystal Rose - Wild Rift Loading Screen Borders

[bringthekaos]

HELP even in the fun au he cant escape having to charm his way to investors 😭😭😭😭

Me, @ Jayce

FR though, slutting it up to get funding is Jayce’s canon event—it’s every universe.

[bitalis]

crystal rose jayce

[vhvrs]

when i have crystal rose gwen n jayce n start mvping again.....

[league-of-skins]

Jayce, the Defender of Tomorrow

League of Legends

Original Jayce

Full Metal Jayce

Debonair Jayce

Forsaken Jayce

Jayce Brighthammer

Battle Academia Jayce

Resistance Jayce

Arcane Jayce

Zenith Games Jayce

Wild Rift

Original Jayce

Jayce Brighthammer

Forsaken Jayce

Superhero Jayce

Crystal Rose Jayce

Battle Academia Jayce

Legends of Runeterra

Original Jayce

Gilded Jayce

[zaunrising]

The moment Silco’s gaze shifted, Jinx couldn’t help her own immediate reaction. A split second look of hurt at first, that nearly whispered of a betrayal felt by her. She didn’t want to be talking to The Eye of Zaun, didn’t want to be talking to the chem-baron who ruled the lanes and as far as she was concerned Zaun itself push come to shove. She wanted to be talking to her father. Yet it seemed that even that was to be denied to her this evening. That look of hurt almost immediately vanished replaced by something that spoke of irritated disbelief before she lowered her head, and closed her eyes.

YoU Don’T EvEN HaVE A ReAL FaTHer. JuST A MoNSTeR WhO UsES YoU FOR HiS ENDS. A MonsTER WHO TOOK iN AnoTHER MoNSTER. NothiNG YoU DO WilL EvER BE EnOUgH. TwO MoNSTErS BoTH HuRTING ThE OthER UnTIL ThERE’s NotHiNG LeFT. ALL YOU DESERVE IS NOTHING!

Head lowered for one short brief moment Jinx rose her head once more refusing to listen to the voice scratching at the back of her mind. It wasn’t real, and she knew that. Her father was real, and sitting in front of her. She was real, the chair, the chomper in her hand, all of that was real. Her own frustration, and growing irritation inching closer to anger was also real. “Behave. Right.” Voice utterly void of inflection Jinx found herself unwilling, or perhaps incapable of pulling up another one of those masks she so often used to protect herself and in truth others as well with.

By the time Silco spoke of Jayce her face had dropped the smiles as well as the look of hurt replacing it rather something purely of appraisal, and consideration. If he wished to bring out the chem-baron in place of her father so be it. He would be greeted by the ice so cold she felt like it was burning her from the inside out sometimes that Jinx rarely showed to anyone.

“I nearly died because I didn’t want to let you down. Because I wanted to ensure you had what you needed for your Cause. I deserve respect as well for everything I’ve done for you.” That, in a sense, was the heart of the problem. Jinx in that moment felt neither cared for nor respected. “Since when do you have partners though? You have people that do things for you. Everyone, does things for you. Why does he get called a partner? Sevika is your deputy, Singed your sadist with a supply of drugs, blah blah blah. Some Piltie is a partner though? That’s interesting.” Even she did things for him. Even she wasn’t a partner in The Cause, a weapons maker and a killer and perhaps a guard, but not any kind of partner.

“What should I talk about? You haven’t asked any questions. Not since I came back. About anything. About The Bridge, Vi, Ekko, Singed, how I’m feeling about things, nothing. I’ll talk. When you tell me what it is you actually want to hear about… the weapons done. If that’s what you mean. I have the crystal, and everything else. It’s built, and ready to use. Maybe I should just go use it. That’s what weapons are for after all right? What’s what I’m for, right? To make things, and to use them, and to jinx those you need a permanent lesson taught to. Could probably blow up the entire council chamber with one shot. They’d fear us then, wouldn’t they? That’s what you want, right? For them to fear us enough they leave us alone.”

The sarcastic comments, along with Jinx mentioning they could always wait on him, struck another nerve. And, it was visible. Silco's annoyance grew, and he didn't feel the need to hide it. Not with her attitude.

Whilst fingertips rubbed against one another, his knuckles rested against his lips, all the while his gaze grew sharper, colder. There was a shift within Silco, and it was clear it was not the father who looked at her. No. It was The Eye of Zaun who stared back at her, with an intensity of a thousand blades.

“Behave.” Silco suddenly said, his voice calm as ever, though, with an iciness that was not often given to Jinx. He was starting to get fed up with her and her behaviour. “I'm still the one who takes care of you, so I expect you to treat me with respect.” His jaw clenched ever so slightly as his chin lowered. The way he could feel his patience slowly ebbing away was problematic. And, for a moment, he considered moving this conversation to tomorrow, where the both of them would have calmed down.

However, when Jinx mentioned Jayce once more, there was a subtle hint of a twitch at the side of his nose, followed by a huff. Instead of brushing her off, ice and fire were locked onto magenta. “He has joined the Cause. He has sworn fealty to me. Thus, he is now considered a partner, rather than a pawn.” His tongue briefly slipped over his jagged teeth, taking a moment in before raised a brow. “I answered your question. Now talk, Jinx.” Silco demanded.

This was going to be a long night.