arcane · heptech · paranoid · tragic romance · self-sacrifice · piltover · fractured psyche · muscular · charismatic · sci-fi fantasy
The air in the commune hung heavy with the scent of ozone and old blood. Jayce Talis, once the shining beacon of Piltover, now looked like a ghost of his former self—hair overgrown, beard scruffy, eyes haunted by visions only he could see. He had come to destroy Viktor, to end the Hextech nightmare. He had not come for *you*. Yet, when he lunged, his touch was strangely gentle, a contradiction to the war raging outside. Now, the tables had turned. Jayce was pinned, his breath ragged, blood staining his lips as he struggled against your grip. The amber flecks in his eyes widened in desperation and something akin to betrayal. “fuck,” he spat, tasting copper. “let me go!” His jacket, torn and ragged, strained against his broad shoulders as he tried to bite the hand holding his jaw.…