#drowns out any of the hexcore's wishes

[meownotgood]

Wait you are so right about obsessive viktor!! Wth why didn't i connect that... He'd scourer piltover to find you! I like to think he's desperate to show you eveything he's gain and rationalize you running away from him as you being afraid if the "glorious unknown"

viktor would go one step further anon, he literally has hundreds of followers at his disposal. if you were somewhere in piltover or even in the depths of the undercity, he will find you. even if it means utilizing his commune, seeing through all of his followers' eyes at once in order to track you down. even if it means sneaking — or perhaps fighting his way — into piltover. you will see his vision, eventually. you must. you, out of everyone, must understand. you have always understood his ambitions, why would this be any different?

perhaps you doubt the lengths he is willing to go to. you believe you are far from his grasp. as you walk through the crowded streets of piltover, accidentally bumping into someone as you try to brush past — a hand finds your shoulder, stills you. your eyes catch with a stranger donning a placid, gentle smile, five arcane-touched imprints marked onto their face. their swirling eyes flutter, before their pupils gloss over to form pale, full moons.

and a voice you would recognize anywhere, viktor's voice, speaks through them.

"there you are."

[foolinafable]

still alive

SYNOPSIS: You thought watching Viktor slowly dying was the hardest thing you could ever face, and then you had to see him walk out that door. PAIRING: Viktor x reader WORDCOUNT: 338 TAGS: Angst, Drabble NOTES: Arcane season 2 spoilers, feeling sad so I wrote this

“Does it make me a bad person?” you ask Jayce, voice barely a whisper eyes locking with his amber ones quickly looking away when a nauseous feeling erupts from the mear similarity of them 

“To wish that you had listened to him and destroyed the hexcore? Because then I wouldn't be mourning the loss of a man who's still alive but now wants nothing to do with me- with us,” you continue sniffling as you try to hold back the unshed tears, your face already wet enough.

It’s silent for a few moments, the man dwelling on your words in stoic silence, something so unlike him that it sets your nerves alive  

“It would be easier to grieve him if he were dead, I think, at least then he still loved me, it’s, harder to know he's out there somewhere while I'm drowning in the sorrow of what could've been,” you begin to ramble, hoping to elicit anything from Jayce other than the silence Viktor left the two of you with 

“I knew that one day he would leave, he told me himself he didn't have long left. But never in my wildest of fantasies would I have believed that it be by him walking out that door, not a flicker of care on his face as he broke all his promises,” You bite your lip to hold back a sob, visibly shaking as you admit to the man  

“I don't know what I'm supposed to do with myself.”

You feel a squeeze on your hand, small and gentle enough that you could’ve missed it if you weren’t begging for any form of comfort 

“Neither do I,” Jayce admitted a sad smile on his face, trying to be brave for the two of you, pulling your head towards his uninjured side as you began to sob

You never knew heartbreak could be so daunting, world-changing.

But one thing you did know was that not even the gods above would be able to help Viktor if you saw him again.

[aspenmissing]

Hello! Lately I've finished an really emotional book and since then I'm in the mood for another angsty story ~

Reader is Viktor's baby sister and the wife of Jayce. During Jinx's attack she was with them in the councilor hall. Viktor and Jayce are safe, but Reader got pretty bad injured. Viktor desperately tries to wake her up, while Jayce is in pure shock. The medical team rushes in the hall and take her with them.

A little bit later Viktor and Jayce get the message, that Reader barely made it and is now in coma. The chances of her to wake up are to small, to give them any kind of hope.

Viktor is in pure grief, but he also feels so much hate about hextech after hearing the news, that Jinx used a hextech weapon. Meanwhile Jayce desperately tries to find a way to keep his wife alive. He tries to convince Viktor that the hexcore might be the solution.

Viktor is in pure rage and both of them having a really big argument, full with emotions. Within the argument Viktor saying things like "I wish, that you have never met my sister" or "If she dies, I'm over with hextech and you". He only wants his baby sister back and Jayce don't know what to do anymore.

Shortly after that, Reader passed away.

Soooo it's really emotional and angsty, but...well...I can't help it :3

ʜᴇʀ ꜰɪɴᴀʟ ɢᴏᴏᴅʙʏᴇ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ x ᴡɪꜰᴇ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ʙʀᴏ!ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ) || ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ/ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ? || 3666 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴇxᴘʟᴏꜱɪᴏɴꜱ, ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ɪɴᴊᴜʀʏ, ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ɴᴏᴛ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʟɪᴇ…ɪ ᴄʀɪᴇᴅ. ɪ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴡɪꜱʜ ꜱᴀᴅɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴜᴘᴏɴ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ʀɪᴅᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ. ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴋɪɴᴅᴀ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ꜱᴏʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ, ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ꜱᴘʀɪɴᴋʟᴇ ᴏꜰ ʜᴏᴘᴇ… ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ, ᴅᴏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ <3

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ/ᴘᴀʀᴀᴍᴇᴅɪᴄ

The world had turned red. Not just from the fire or the chaos left in Jinx’s wake, but from the blood pooling beneath Y/N’s still body. The air was thick with smoke, the acrid scent of burning metal and flesh overwhelming Jayce’s senses. Flames flickered along the grand tapestries that once symbolized progress and unity, now reduced to charred remnants of shattered ideals.

Jayce could barely hear anything—his ears were ringing, drowning out the panicked voices around him. His breath was ragged, his chest tight, his heart hammering so violently he feared it might burst. His hands trembled as he reached for her, barely registering the sensation of warm, slick blood coating his fingers. It didn’t feel real. It couldn’t be real.

"Y/N!" Viktor's voice cracked, his hands shaking as he pressed against her wounds, desperate to stop the bleeding. His golden eyes, usually so sharp with intelligence, were wild with fear. "Wake up, sestra, please!" (Sister)

Viktor was always the logical one, always the one to approach situations with a measured mind. But now? Now he was frantic, his own injuries forgotten as he clutched at his sister, his face twisted in anguish. His cane lay discarded beside him, abandoned in favor of cradling Y/N’s battered body.

Jayce's breath came in short, shallow bursts, his mind refusing to accept what was happening. His wife—his light—was unresponsive, her usually warm skin turning cold beneath his touch. A deep gash ran along her side, blood seeping into her torn clothing. Bruises were already blooming across her delicate features, and her chest barely moved with shallow, struggling breaths.

"She—she’s breathing," Jayce rasped, as if saying it aloud would somehow make it more true, more solid. But it was barely there, the rise and fall of her chest so faint it was almost imperceptible.

=

The medical team swarmed around them, their voices urgent but distant, as if they were speaking through water. A medic pressed two fingers against Y/N’s throat, searching for a pulse, their expression grim.

"She’s critical. We need to get her stabilized immediately!" another barked. "Move, now!"

Someone pulled Viktor back, forcing him away from his sister as she was lifted onto a stretcher. He fought against them, his limbs weak but fueled by desperation. "No, no, I need to stay with her!" he shouted, but the medics ignored his pleas, ushering him out of the way.

Jayce barely registered the movement, his entire body frozen as he stared at Y/N’s still form. Her hair was matted with blood, strands clinging to her pale skin. Her fingers, once so full of life, so warm whenever they entwined with his, now lay limp.

"We need to move her now!" one of the medics shouted. The urgency in their voice shattered through the fog in Jayce’s mind.

His legs refused to cooperate, as if they had turned to lead. He swayed slightly, dizziness clawing at the edges of his vision. His fingers curled into fists at his sides. "She’ll be okay, right?" His voice was barely above a whisper, broken and weak, his question directed to no one in particular.

No one answered him.

They didn’t need to.

The silence was suffocating. The sterile walls, the distant beeping of machines—none of it felt real. Jayce stood beside Viktor, both of them barely holding themselves together as they listened to the doctor’s verdict.

"She’s in a coma. The damage was extensive... It’s a miracle she’s still alive, but the chances of her waking up are—" The doctor hesitated. "Slim. We will do everything we can, but..."

The rest of his words faded into nothingness.

Jayce felt like he was drowning. His entire body ached, but nothing compared to the pain in his chest, the way his heart threatened to shatter completely. Viktor hadn’t spoken in minutes, staring blankly at his sister’s unconscious form. His hands, usually steady despite his condition, were trembling violently.

"This is because of hextech," Viktor finally muttered, his voice hollow. "She was caught in an explosion from a hextech weapon."

Jayce swallowed the lump in his throat. "Viktor, I—"

"No!" Viktor snapped, whirling on him. "Don’t you see? We created something that led to this! We thought we were saving the world, and look what it has done! Look at her!" He gestured sharply at Y/N, his voice thick with rage and grief. "I hate it. I hate hextech!"

Jayce didn’t respond. His throat tightened, and any words he might have had withered before they could leave his lips. Instead, he just stood there, his body tense, his eyes fixed on Y/N.

Viktor turned back to her, his fingers tightening around her limp hand as if he could anchor her back to life by sheer will alone. His grip was firm but gentle, his thumb absently brushing over her knuckles. He was trying to hold onto her—trying to hold onto what little hope remained.

Jayce’s breath caught as he took in Y/N’s still form. She looked so peaceful—too peaceful. He had seen her asleep countless times, her lips slightly parted, her face serene, but this wasn’t sleep. This was something far worse, something unnatural, something slipping further from his grasp with every passing second.

His jaw clenched, his fists trembling at his sides. The despair was crushing, wrapping around his chest like a vice, suffocating him. But beneath the pain, beneath the helplessness, something else flickered to life—determination.

He couldn’t just stand here. He couldn’t do nothing.

His mind raced, clinging desperately to any shred of hope, any possibility that he could still save her. And then it struck him.

The hexcore.

Jayce sucked in a sharp breath, his decision solidifying as he squared his shoulders. He turned abruptly, his movements rigid with resolve, and strode out of the medical wing without another word.

Viktor barely registered his departure, too lost in his grief to notice. His focus remained on Y/N, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths as he whispered to her, voice barely above a broken murmur.

"Please... just come back to me."

=

Jayce moved quickly through the halls of the Council building, his footsteps echoing through the empty corridors. His mind was clouded with thoughts, with possibilities, with risks. He knew what the hexcore had done to Viktor—but it had also kept him alive, made him stronger. If there was even the slightest chance it could do the same for Y/N, he had to take it.

The lab door slams open as he stepped inside. The air was heavy with energy, the hexcore pulsing with a faint, eerie light. The room smelled of metal and ozone, the very presence of the device humming in his bones. Jayce hesitated only for a moment before stepping closer, his heart pounding like a war drum in his chest. He stared down at the device with a mixture of fear and hope, the soft glow of the hexcore reflecting in his desperate eyes.

His hands hovered over it, shaking. Could he really do this? Was this the right choice? Was this the only choice?

A sudden voice shattered the silence.

"Don’t."

Jayce turned sharply, his breath hitching in his throat. Viktor stood in the doorway, his expression twisted with rage and anguish, his eyes burning with unfiltered hatred and sorrow. His breaths were uneven, his body shaking from exhaustion, fury, and grief.

"You don’t know what you’re doing, Jayce," Viktor spat, stepping forward with unsteady but determined steps. "You think this will save her, but you have no idea what it could turn her into. You saw what it did to me."

Jayce’s jaw tightened, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. "I can’t just let her die, Viktor. I won’t. I refuse to stand here and do nothing."

Viktor’s face contorted, raw grief flashing across his features. "And you think this is the answer?! The hexcore is not salvation, Jayce! It is corruption! It does not heal—it twists! It takes! It makes monsters!"

"You’re still alive!" Jayce shot back, his voice rising in desperation. "It kept you alive, Viktor! You were dying, and it saved you! What if it can do the same for her? What if this is the only chance we have?"

"And at what cost?!" Viktor’s voice cracked as he took another step forward, his entire body shaking with barely contained emotion. "You think I don’t wish to save her? You think I haven’t thought of this?! Every moment since she fell, I have been fighting the thought of bringing her back with that accursed thing! But I won’t! Because I know what it does! It does not save, Jayce—it steals! It took something from me, and I can never get it back! What will it take from her?"

Jayce faltered, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "She wouldn’t want to die either," he said, his voice breaking. "I can’t sit here and do nothing, Viktor. I won’t."

Viktor let out a hollow, bitter laugh, one that carried no amusement—only pain, only loss. "You think you’re the only one suffering?" he sneered, his accent thick with anger. "She is my sister, Jayce! My blood! You think your love for her outweighs mine? You think I wouldn’t burn this entire city to the ground if it meant saving her?!"

Jayce’s breath caught, his resolve wavering. He had never seen Viktor like this—so raw, so furious, so close to the edge of complete collapse.

Viktor took another step forward, his hands trembling at his sides. "I wish—I wish I had never introduced you to her!" His voice broke, but his gaze never wavered. "Maybe then she wouldn’t be in this bed, fighting for her life! Maybe then she wouldn’t be lying there, slipping further and further away!"

Jayce flinched like he had been struck, pain flashing across his face. "You don’t mean that."

"I do," Viktor growled, his grief turning venomous. "Because if she dies, I am done—with you, with hextech, with all of it!"

The words crushed Jayce like a hammer to the chest, knocking the air from his lungs. His hands trembled at his sides as he took an unsteady step back, his heart racing, his entire world unravelling. He wanted to argue, to fight, to make Viktor understand—but the look in Viktor’s eyes made it clear. There was no reasoning with him. No argument would change the depth of his grief.

Viktor’s breath was ragged, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white, the handle of his cane gripped like a lifeline. His entire body was shaking, but it wasn’t from anger anymore. It was grief, raw and unbearable, threatening to break him apart. His voice was hoarse, cracked, barely more than a whisper when he spoke. "I just want my baby sister back, Jayce. That’s all. I just want her back... but not if it means she becomes something we won’t even recognize. Not if it means losing her in another way."

Jayce’s throat closed up, his own grief clawing at him. He wanted to say something, anything, but no words came. He was a man of action, but what was he supposed to do when the one thing he could do was the one thing Viktor couldn’t accept? He swallowed, his hands balling into fists, his mind screaming for a solution—any solution—but coming up empty.

He turned back to the hexcore, its eerie glow casting long shadows across the lab, pulsing like a heartbeat, a cruel mockery of life. The weight of his failure pressed down on him, suffocating. He had always been able to fix things. He had built weapons, tools, machines capable of changing the world. But now, standing here, he realized with chilling clarity that there were some things he couldn’t fix.

Viktor let out a shaky breath, his chest rising and falling with the weight of his sorrow. He looked so tired, so lost. He adjusted his grip on his cane, his fingers trembling as he leaned on it heavily, his body betraying just how much this moment was draining him. "Please, Jayce... let’s just go back. She needs us."

Jayce hesitated, staring at the hexcore for a long, aching moment before exhaling a heavy breath. His shoulders sagged, the fight draining from him. He didn’t know what to do anymore.

Without another word, he turned away from the hexcore, following Viktor as they left the lab behind. The rhythmic sound of Viktor’s cane striking the floor echoed in the hallway, each step slow and unsteady but resolute. The door slid shut behind them, sealing away the temptation, the questions, the uncertainty. All that remained was their grief.

Back in Y/N’s room, the rhythmic beeping of the machines filled the silence, a cruel reminder that she was still here, but barely. The sterile scent of antiseptic hung in the air, suffocating in its emptiness. The weight of the moment pressed down on both men as they stood at her bedside, looking at the woman they both loved in their own ways.

They knew what had to be done.

Viktor turned to Jayce, his throat tightening as he forced himself to meet his friend’s eyes. The fight, the anger, the accusations—it all seemed so pointless now. His voice was rough when he finally spoke. "Jayce... there’s something I need to tell you."

Jayce swallowed hard, nodding.

Viktor’s lips trembled as he exhaled shakily. "I didn’t mean what I said before. About wishing I never introduced you to her." He looked down at Y/N’s face, the corners of his lips twitching in the faintest, most broken ghost of a smile. "She loved you. You made her happy. And despite everything, I am grateful for that. I am grateful for you."

Jayce’s breath hitched, emotion thick in his throat. "Viktor..."

Viktor shook his head. "No, let me finish. I am glad you were in her life. And I am glad to have a brother-in-law like you." His voice wavered, but his sincerity was unwavering. "She wouldn’t want us to part with anger."

Jayce felt his chest tighten, his vision blurred with tears. He reached forward, squeezing Viktor’s shoulder, a silent understanding passing between them.

Viktor gave a weak nod before stepping back. "I need a moment alone with her."

Jayce hesitated for a second before giving him space, stepping outside and leaving Viktor alone with his sister.

Viktor sank into the chair beside her bed, his trembling fingers brushing over her hand as he exhaled shakily. His grip was weak, but filled with a tenderness that spoke of years of love and protection.

"Sestra..." His voice cracked, the grief swelling in his chest until it was unbearable. "I am so sorry. I should have protected you. I should have done more. But I know you—" He let out a weak, breathless chuckle, his eyes wet with unshed tears. "You would tell me to stop blaming myself. That it wasn't my fault. That it was just the world being cruel. But I don’t know how to live in a world without you in it."

He swallowed thickly, his thumb tracing slow circles over her cold skin. "You were always stronger than me. Smarter than me. Kinder than me. You had so much ahead of you, and it’s not fair that this is where your story ends. If there is any part of you left, if you can hear me, just know that I love you. I always have. And I always will."

A single tear slipped down his cheek, and for the first time in his life, Viktor felt truly powerless. His hand lingered for a moment longer before he slowly pulled away, his chest rising and falling with deep, shuddering breaths. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, lingering for just a second, memorizing her warmth, before standing up. He wiped his face, steadied himself, and walked to the door, pausing for only a moment before nodding to Jayce.

Jayce inhaled deeply, composing himself before stepping inside as Viktor left.

Jayce hesitated, his hands shaking as he stepped forward. He looked down at her, his wife, his everything, and felt his heart shatter all over again. He had fought so hard, clung so desperately to hope, but now there was nothing left to hold onto.

He took her hand in his, pressing it against his forehead as he let out a choked sob. "God, Y/N... I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to say goodbye to you. We were supposed to have more time. We were supposed to have a family. We were supposed to grow old together. You were supposed to be with me, always."

His grip tightened, as if holding onto her a little harder would somehow make her stay. "I should have protected you. I should have done more. I failed you. And I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep going without you."

His breath hitched, and he forced himself to look at her face, to memorize every detail, every line, every feature that he loved so much. "You were the best part of me. And I don’t know if I’ll ever be whole again without you."

A tear slipped onto her hand as he kissed her knuckles, his lips trembling against her skin. "I love you. I love you more than anything. And I will carry you with me for the rest of my life."

The room was unbearably silent as he finally let go, his entire body shaking with grief. He stepped back, unable to look at her any longer, because if he did, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to leave.

Outside the room, Viktor was waiting. He didn’t say anything—he didn’t need to. Instead, he simply reached out, placing a trembling hand on Jayce’s shoulder, grounding him in the only way he could.

Together, they stood there, two broken men saying goodbye to the woman who had been their heart.

It was time.

Days passed, and the world moved on, but for Viktor and Jayce, time felt frozen.

It was a warm, bright day when they laid Y/N to rest. The sun shone down on the gathered mourners, its light mocking the heaviness in their hearts. A soft breeze rustled the trees, carrying with it the scent of fresh flowers placed around her resting place. The sky was impossibly blue, unmarred by clouds, as if the universe itself refused to mourn her loss.

The service was small, intimate. Friends, family, and colleagues stood in solemn silence as words were spoken in her honour. Viktor stood at the front, his hands clasped tightly together as if holding himself upright was the only thing keeping him from breaking apart. His eyes, red-rimmed and hollow, were fixed on the casket, his mind racing through memories—ones filled with laughter, with childhood mischief, with the way she had always believed in him even when no one else did. Now, she was gone, and nothing could bring her back.

Jayce stood beside him, his shoulders squared, his expression a mask of grief and exhaustion. His hands trembled as he held a single white rose, staring at the casket as if willing it to open, as if refusing to accept that this was truly goodbye. He had built so much, created so much, but nothing he had ever made could undo this moment. Nothing he had ever built could bring her back.

When it came time, Viktor was the first to step forward. He looked down at the grave, his heart in his throat. "Sestra," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "I don’t know how to do this without you. But I will try. For you."

He knelt, placing a small mechanical piece beside her headstone—something they had built together in their childhood. A part of their bond, a part of her legacy. His fingers lingered over the cool metal, tracing the edges of it as if committing it to memory. He closed his eyes, willing himself to hear her voice one last time, to feel her presence just once more. The wind carried the faintest whisper, and for a fleeting moment, he swore he could feel her warmth.

Jayce took a deep breath before stepping forward, his fingers tightening around the rose in his grasp. He knelt beside Viktor, placing the flower gently atop the casket. "I love you," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Always."

And then, as if summoned by their sorrow, a single white butterfly fluttered into view, dancing on the breeze. It drifted between them, its delicate wings catching the sunlight, glowing like something ethereal, something impossibly beautiful. Viktor and Jayce both froze, their eyes locked on the fragile creature as it hovered near Y/N’s resting place.

Neither of them spoke, but in their silence, they understood. It was her. It had to be. A final goodbye, a last reassurance that she was at peace.

The butterfly lingered for a moment longer before it floated away, disappearing into the sky, its journey endless, unbound. Viktor inhaled sharply, his fingers curling into fists as he fought against the weight pressing on his chest. Jayce let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, his gaze following the butterfly until it was gone.

As they stood, the wind carried their grief into the sky, the sun watching over them as they said their final goodbye. They weren’t sure if they would ever truly heal, if the ache in their chests would ever fade, but they knew one thing—Y/N was still with them. Not in body, but in the memories she had left behind, in the love she had given them, in the small moments that would remind them of her forever.

It was time to let go, but neither of them knew how.

Yet, as they walked away, side by side, they carried her with them, always.