Date: 2025-08-18 11:48 am (UTC)
hexrot: (pic#17857972)
From: [personal profile] hexrot
[ jayce doesn't know if it's the retort that freezes him in place, or the way viktor lays before him. the pearly iridescence of his gaze, or the reminder of the promise he'd broken. both sink into his bones with devastating efficiency, until he was stripped bare, his lips barely holding together and his ears immediately pulling back. jayce was already expressive, but having ears and a tail just about dooms his chances of hiding what he feels. with his lungs witholding his breath, jayce's stare hangs between them— partially hurt from the truth that bore, and partially objective. ]

That's not fair, [ his voice wavers. rough. salt burns in his wounds. ] I did listen. When you explained things to me, when you gave me the chance— I did

[ he listened when he was going to end himself the first time. he . . . didn't listen when the council started working in. when he was supposed to destroy the hexcore. when he wasn't supposed to weaponize hextech—

he listened when viktor, old and grey at the edge of the earth with only his jayce's statue still corpse to remind him of all his failures, rotting in an endless loop of time— he listened when the same viktor warned him of the arcane's seduction.

and now, jayce just finds himself in the same, messy ditch. in the same turbulence. his ears keep slanted back, folded as the background noise of their conversations fill the void in his chest. talk about naming their creations. hex here, hex there—

there's a pattern, in all of this. ]


I always made my worst decisions when we were apart.

Date: 2025-08-18 10:33 pm (UTC)
hexrot: (pic#17918413)
From: [personal profile] hexrot
[ it's all true; jayce has nothing to add to it other than silence. the distraction of hearing himself speak is foolish. was it foolish, to miss foolishness? ignorance is bliss, or something like that. jayce chews on his lower lip, fingers flexing in and out soil as his ears stay pinned back, making his doe eyes like prey pleading in a bear trap. he tries to keep that sorry gaze away from viktor's, for now. they might get a little too shiny for his own good. if he cannot hide it all, then perhaps, with a slant of his brows, he'll do a little of it. ]

It's not just about inaction, Viktor . . . [ calling it that felt too clinical, a rationalization of the acts themselves. jayce's voice raises, only a touch, before his words even into a low grunt. his eyes are back on him, and this time, they plead to be seen.

he is raw again, nerves exposed— he can feel it in the way he aches without even being touched. jayce looks for words, his lips soundlessly parting and pursing, before the harsh press and slanted brows express his frustrations long before he can put it into coherency.

interference comes through the radio: something of a ghost. jayce's brittle, worn, helpless voice: why did you ever give me this? why? the drop in his gut when the silence stretches brings him to his wrist, the acceleration rune still there, scarred and forcibly making its home in his veins. would it kill him again—? would viktor have to go through all that one more time—? he could only sigh, tipping his head forward and rubbing the pad of his thumb into the crystal's uneven surfaces. ]


The hexcore, that shot . . . Was all I had left. To keep you here. Even if it hurt, and if you'd hate me for it. [ and in what felt like an instant, jayce goes back to the edge of the building, when all he could smell and taste was viktor's blood and the painful, jagged edge of betrayal that had made him shed tears in a way he had only when he was rushing viktor's corpse into the lab. ] . . . Is that what you felt? When you saw me up there?

[ a voice in his head asks, with anguish: did you think i would just endure it? did you fail to expect that i'd rather die than live like this?

did you think i'd come back to you earlier? ]

Date: 2025-08-19 03:26 pm (UTC)
hexrot: (pic#17857982)
From: [personal profile] hexrot
[ pity. he felt pity. the usual. guilt, jayce could understand. but pity? it felt like a slap in the face, and the stunned, deer-in-headlights look remains until jayce finds it better to roll onto his back again. his ears may as well be pinned for life against his skull, but what accompanies is a harsh slant of his brows instead of vulnerable doe eyes. jayce's silence to recompose says enough, and he wonders, briefly, if it was said to wound him on purpose. some freak test to confirm or deny his true feelings, to push him away, or to see just how long he'd bear the pain of his love. it makes him fill his lungs and breathe harder, albiet slowly— they almost sounded like snorts, as one single ear directs itself to viktor.

what's worse is that an outburst isn't the first thing on jayce's mind. it's the lips his gaze wandered to with occasion. it's his neck. overthrown by his scent. it's the angry, wild thought of crushing into him. to taste something, to feel something that will override this ache. something that will prove himself. that would take this all away and make them forget, for a while, that there was a divide to begin with.

that's awful, and he knows it. but he can't help missing him and everything about him. his antlers drag into the dirt as if they could feel the weight, too. he's going to try, one more time.

he was doing good. it was only the magic that would twist his work. jayce swallows, jaw tight, fingers twitching against his leg as if the instinct to reach for viktor is a live wire disguised as a flower bed. ]


Every timeline where I don't take the shot . . . Fails early. Every single one. I die, and you're at the edge of the world forced to shoulder that burden alone. [ jayce ears go from perked up with agitation to flattened again. no matter how fucking frustrated or angry he was, his heart breaks when he remember the clarity of those sad, prismatic eyes. the eyes of a man who has seen his beloved die so many times he's gone numb and would not, could not, let it happen one more time. ] You, from the future . . . Told me this was the only way for us to make it, for us to survive together. Only you could convince me to do something like this to you.

[ jayce's body quivers, every muscle taut, ears flicking, antlers brushing against the space between them, and heat rising beneath his exhaustion. ]

I know it looks like betrayal. I know it hurts. But please . . . Understand. I'm not asking for forgiveness— I just— did it for you. For us. [ his breath catches, hangs with tiny croaks at the back of his throat. even his voice raises a pitch, cracks— ] And the fucked up thing about it is that I would do it again.

[ if it meant he'd save him, and they'd die together rather than alone— he'd break himself and viktor, over and over again. ]

Date: 2025-08-19 05:36 pm (UTC)
hexrot: (pic#17918399)
From: [personal profile] hexrot
[ jayce nods; he'd seen it, with his own eyes. the mage would remind him over and over of the outcome if he were to bend to viktor as easily as he does. as much as it is a burning brand on them both, it is truth that jayce cannot fight, cannot hate and certainly cannot feel unforgiving toward. viktor's gaze on him feels like lasers, seers holes into him to the point that he could feel beads of sweat forming at his temples. the boney branch of his tallest antler almost feels like its quivering, pulsing to the beating of his heart that feels harder by the time jayce is lured to turn his head and gaze back, eyes an intense gold and nostrils flared, words pushed through his tooth gap like a harrowing climb forced to divulge. jayce cannot help the slight loom forward, the angle of his antlers catching in rays of moonlight to make himself seen. ]

Am I something to be pitied to you?

[ it is not angry, not accusatory, but more searching, probing, hoping it is not true. low and said almost like a growled whisper, interluded with a guttural snort that seems to call to viktor. his mouth twitches as it pulls down, and unconsciously flexes his arms where his fingers grasp for his own wrist, to rub at the tingling a touch harder. ]

Date: 2025-08-19 06:27 pm (UTC)
hexrot: (pic#17858122)
From: [personal profile] hexrot
No.

[ it's immediate, almost defensive, almost another whisper, but it still lands guttural and solid. another chance that jayce has to face him again, sideways, prepared to challenge his view. take the damn knife and sink himself into it. what else would he do when it was viktor who held it? ]

I'd never . . . Look at you like that. Not pity. Not ever.

[ jayce hesitates, searching for the shape of something harder to name, something that had been easier to mutter before, but felt too strong for something so brittle and dangerously edged the way it was (they were) now. his throat works around it before the words finally fall, laced with . . . more. ]

If anything, I— [ jayce stops, breath hitching, and starts again softer, steadier. ] I was upset you'd came to that conclusion. But it wasn't . . . Lesser. Never lesser.

[ the realization of what this means comes in layers. he's hurt by the difference. he's ashamed, humiliated. it could've been anyone, but viktor— gods. his downcast gaze wants to hide in the hole he once fell down. was he too small, up there? unworthy of his partnership?

viktor doesn't always know how to best express himself.

was that jayce's wishful understanding, or the truth, though? his hand curls at his side, like it wants to reach out but doesn't dare. still, there's something unspoken lingering in the air— an ache, a tether, waiting for viktor to give him reason to react to the pooling, fizzing heat under his skin that could blow at the most subtle triggers. jayce drops his hand between them now, palm up and runestone exposed, knuckles sinking into dirt. ]


If it were you in my place the other day, I would've been terrified, too. Even if I were angry.

[ he's . . . starting to understand.

because they are a mirror. because they are two sides of the same coin. because they are each other's favorite regret. ]

Date: 2025-08-20 01:38 am (UTC)
hexrot: (pic#17858031)
From: [personal profile] hexrot
[ jayce only meets viktor's gaze for a moment before dropping it, his brows worrying a kink, but his hand does not move. he stays at a standstill, his fingers only twitching in response. part of his coherency rings an alarm, but his body, instinct, flips a different switch. his heart skips and trips on its own beat, and what he says next is low, heavy. there is weight on it like an anchor. it doesn't come clean, nor easy, but it does because jayce needs this to begin on a path going forward and not backward. ]

I forgive you.

[ quiet. almost forced through his teeth. it is genuine forgiveness, but it does not come lightly. for one, jayce is increasingly frustrated with himself, crumbling like paper to the static brush of fingers that sets his whole frame on fire and alert. he shouldn't want this. not now— but even his own wants and needs betray him. both on edge and undone, he takes viktor's hand in a tight, coarse grip, every patch of fur on him standing, and his pupils engorging enough to nearly eclipse the honey hazel within them.

his breathing has picked up from the way the rythmic blows of air pull in and out with the rise and fall of his chest. the way his presence fills the back of the car, the way bruised, purple-black battered knuckles protrude and sting with his squeeze. this was animalistic, and jayce is at a crossroads of incertainty, to whether this is his own desire or his new biology— and which one made it worse? does it matter? ]


. . . I—

[ he catches himself. it's the very last of his restraint. ]

Date: 2025-08-20 04:49 pm (UTC)
hexrot: (pic#17918399)
From: [personal profile] hexrot
[ jayce fixes his jaws tight, feels them grind under the buffer of his molars. it is clear and true, that jayce's forgiveness did not come with a free pass. it did not make things good and well again, especially not by his own sentiment of betrayal and wounded self. it meant that he wanted to try. he wanted to work through it, no matter how long it took for his scars to heal.

he wanted viktor.

and how that rings so very prominent now, of all times. denial would be another sentence. hungry, he was. not enough to feel the stuttering madness that makes his body contort and beg, fall apart, but it is hunger all the same. a start. a fuse, wishing to be lit. a dryness at the back of his throat and an emptiness at the pit of his stomach, isolation in his heart. it is a heat set to boil even lower at the hips, knowing what was to come of it, making his ears pin forward and his tail flag embarassingly behind him once the wires cross. if he tastes, he will lose all sense of discipline. he'll crumble.

and it will make this all so much worse. so much more complicated and like treading across a minefield. but can he resist it? resist him? his lips move without pulling apart, a scowl in the making, brows arched low, and an unconscious presentation of his broken rack, bone white and pearly, cleaned— still formidable. still worth something. still strong.

he can't even think clearly enough to answer what mattered most— their lines in the sand to be respected, until they are ready to shorten the distance, and already— something too primal in jayce wants to breach it. and it will.

he's ruining everything before they truly get started, and viktor isn't doing much to help in how his observation dips honey sweet. jayce hesitates for as long as he can, but he continues as carefully as he could before the stag throws caution to the wind.

he breathes his words out as if they could shatter him. like he hates that he wants. and gods, help him. this wasn't what they needed and yet, his whisper scrapes the very floors: ]


I still want you.

Date: 2025-08-21 12:59 am (UTC)
hexrot: (pic#17858036)
From: [personal profile] hexrot
[ jayce had been doomed from the start, but now? he was a dead man touch broke free from his grasp to remind him of how weak he was to him. jayce's ears shiver to the contact of his fingertips, great, perked satellites. before he realized just what he was doing to restrain himself, jayce was already pushing the curve of his face into viktor's palm to generate a claiming, scenting rub. whatever words, speeches or banter that crackled through the radio was no more to jayce's focus. everything from sound to smell to taste in the very air he now breathed harsh and flared, could only target viktor.

all there was needed was new intention, an opening, for jayce to spring himself with the guidance as if set loose to buck around in an arena. his legs and hooves struggle to bend and sit, especially where his knee does not comply (something about a living body being more painful than dulled where rusted), but he hurries his angles and bears his weight upon the herald, his hands already a mess of loose soil and long locks of platinum and chestnut. they should close this thing if its still open for the convoy to bear witness. jayce will regret it later, but not now. it's of no concern to him, now.

he is vivid, his heart wild, stuck in this enticing wallop like a trap. like a meal. like his ultimate desire. he hangs so pressed into viktor after his single, tallest antler threatens to scrape the heights of the cybertruck, every curve and bulge clasps against viktor's with urgency— and still a damn perfect fit. the snarl that becomes of him is befitting for a stag in rut, digging fingers into metalic flesh and bone not to hurt, but to absorb, to smell, to press his nose, to meld with— become one with. it's hardly words until the syllables slip into addition, low and like a prayer to war. he has been thinking about him and thinking, and thinking, and imagining, until he went mad with it in his solitude— ]


That's a lie.

[ jayce cannot physically live without him. viktor cannot resist him. the same can be said of one another when the coin's sides are flipped. ]

Date: 2025-08-21 04:20 pm (UTC)
hexrot: (pic#17858099)
From: [personal profile] hexrot
[ it's the most jayce has been freed from the shackles of their greivances. so fucking good. pleasure by viktor's hands unmakes him, there is no one else he wants. unbound by their stacking distrust when they belonged together, it's that togetherness that shapes the illusion of intimacy that sinks into jayce like claws: when they are so coiled ready to spring, when they are all breaths and moans, flesh and blood, membrane and layers sinking into each other. there is nothing that he doesn't want, here. jayce wants what they had, and he is so desperate to chase it that even this— the one thing that would make their climb to consensus and reprive even more riddled with pitfalls is his last resort to feeling that passion, that love— and he is so frantic to seize it anyway, despite the human warning drowning at the back of his mind, strangled by an animal too hungry and a man too desperate to keep the one thing he loved cupped into the containment of his ribs.

it is a relief, to not think of anything else. jayce feels pain from too-tight grips, but he does not object to it, forcing his flesh further into squeezes as it floods him with the sting of intoxicating pleasure. one of the buttons of his buttondown pops from the force, coaxing jayce to rise and pry the rest off. his loins ache, his erection is terribly odd, sudden and uncomfortable in comparison to . . . what it used to be, pushing against fabric until it causes an unbearable shifting against viktor's hips. it's a relief when they dive for each other's mouths, when viktor shuts him up with both lips crushed, teeth scraping and jayce gasping mid lap, his own rough hands yanking at his childhood blanket wrapped as a toga around his nimble frame to take claim. his. all his, the smell on him jayce's and screams mine. even that a proof in the midst of uplifted soil and greens that viktor has not let him go. he does not diverge his mouth to his body yet, exploring viktor's to taste and swallow him whole while fingers push and test the boundaries of the purple-gold crevices like he'd fuck those, too. his tail—

it twitches under viktor's vice, but not to snap from it. no objections. the tuft is raised high, flagged to the side to expose his readiness. his neediness. his obscene want that makes his own scent all the more enticing when he pursues viktor's hand with an arch of his back, all garbled groans and fired demands. ]
Edited Date: 2025-08-21 04:27 pm (UTC)

Date: 2025-08-22 05:46 pm (UTC)
hexrot: (pic#17858098)
From: [personal profile] hexrot
[ one may say that jayce is willing to give too much, and isn't he—? he does need to breathe but he does not stray from the shower of immersion in viktor's exgencies. he wants? jayce provides. he is the only one that can match his necessities, the only one who can actually take them without falling apart. jayce puts himself back together at an alarming rate. he crawls back every damn time because he is needed.

he is wanted.

at the expense of a gasp pulled through his gaping lips each time he can, jayce crashes forth the way viktor orders, no qualms when their wants align, with tongue ablaze and teeth beginning to sink a little deeper with each push and pull of their kissing. not enough to break, but certainly teasing the thought, edging himself to a crazed brink of hunger at the sound of a moan an octave higher, coaxing viktor to grab at him taut and unyielding. let it out. let it all out and let him take it like he should. viktor unravels and jayce sinks his wandering hands deeper into him. on him. around him. everything from back to sides to risingjust enough to reach behind him, between them for whatever it was that he would find. if it would give to the pressure of his fingers, it would be brief. it would be because it is jayce who gives in first, jayce to yelp a sound he's yet to have heard from himself.

his cock is out, at least, nearly popping free from its confines and presented in a way that viktor may not recall— it is longer than before, slender and tapered, spearing out from a flacid, furred sheath that startles him with blown eyes. pale rather than red and swollen with blood, he hasn't seen it like that before, and in honesty he had not the mindspace to explore on his own earlier. he's now built for efficiency rather than display— but perhaps it could still provide something of a spectacle.

jayce barely has time to consider it when viktor's clever fingers draw an unexpected tremble in his legs that rattles his chest. the damn thing has a sensitivity he is both unused to as much as heightened, quivering, bouncing and flagging to each stroke. with hands planted on either side of the other man, jayce's focus scatters, and his throat works both soft and corrugated vocals like a melody in the wild. ]


P— Pull, [ he doesn't demand it in tone. the drawled timbre and eager, frenetic blowing from the nose that is more stag than man, ] please

[ but the man still in there begs of him, begs to pull the mantel off him, too heavy, pass the torch to someone who deserved control from the start. this way, jayce too has the most control of his own fate. ]

Date: 2025-08-27 03:49 am (UTC)
hexrot: (pic#17918393)
From: [personal profile] hexrot
[for a split second, jayce even stops breathing. the silling little word is like a poison. the terribly long stroke downward on his cock, couple with his tail has jayce pinning viktor by the fistfull of hairs]

Oh, fff[ that hits like a blade between the ribs, but the sheer pleasure of the touch hits him first as much as hardest. that damn old joke from when things were simpler. better. missed. that was before they broke each other and pretended, for just a few painstakingly wonderful moments, that none of it happened enough to sink into harsh and complete avoidance, with his back arched and moan shrilling into annoyance, jayce chokes on the sound and whatever words would have come, the half-growl knotting the frustration behind his teeth and whisking right past the gap between them.

it's too much. it's always been too much with him. jayce's fingers curl tighter in viktor's hair, pulling just enough to drag his head back until their faces are close, breath mixing in the charged air between them. his forehead presses to viktor's temple, harsh and grounding, his voice wrecked and shaking when he gets it out: ]


Don't— ngh, don't fucking do that. [ jayce gasps it, cracked and breathless, but it serves as nothing. quite the actuality, when jayce's hips now ground down in following viktor's hand, forward, to rut into the space of his palm, wet with dribbled precum, and especially back, where the flagging tail twitches wildly to be used. ]That's— That's cruel— I meant my, [ gods, he has to say it, doesn't he? ] my tail—

[ he hates how wrecked he sounds. hates that viktor hears it. hates more that viktor smiles against him in smug victory. the worst part is, jayce knows he'll let him. he'll let viktor tease, let him play, let him drag out every last fraying nerve until jayce is trembling and aching and begging for whatever he chooses to give. because this . . . the wanting, the hurting, is all they've got left, and neither of them has ever known how to stop either way. ]

Date: 2025-08-30 08:03 pm (UTC)
hexrot: (pic#17918395)
From: [personal profile] hexrot
[ the sharp whine from jayce's lips resounds, strangles within his throat from both tail to the back of his neck being seized, yanked and setting his nerves aflame. his cock twitches as he's roughed up, at a high angle now that he's endlessly aroused, and when he looks between them—

the draugr's nostrils flare wide, pupils eclipse color as he is caught watching viktor's body inverse, pool with slick, aroused blue that has a gasp catch behind his teeth. his fingers only briefly untangle to plant on either side of viktor in search of stable ground in the midst of near dizzying lust, panting before him— the worst of both worlds had been jayce wanting him and any instinctual impulse only exaggerates it. part of him thinks, remembers: he would've wanted this to be special. he would've wanted to drink this all at a snail's pace, worship the body it came from until he'd drive himself insane with want and enter. it's the first time he'd be fucking viktor's . . . slick. hell they hadn't even the chance to explore properly or even know and yet—

jayce is not strong enough to object to him. he's starting to think he never is, never will be. hesitation is the farthest it goes, a tremble fixed at his lips and words building behind his tooth gap. wait, a part of him still urges. but then— the gentle encouragement. the impossible heat. wet. inviting, sliding at the tapered tip of his dick enough to make his eyes nearly roll, flutter and gape. then came everything else, with the impact of a train losing its breaks: the frustration. the pent up energy. the anger. the revolt. the remorse. the maddening want. possessive want. the love that made him so crazy he couldn't live without him. the passion, the blotch of irrational hope that this could somehow fix a part of what they've broken together, however small a fraction it was. jayce, like many times before this one, commits an error that would later cost him.

he looks into viktor's eyes, roots his knees with only a scowl of complaint when the joint disagrees, takes viktor's hand above his head and aligns with his slit. he has to adjust backwards to, he's . . . long, as it were, and part of him thinks— will this hurt him? will he even fit? girth wasn't the problem, but—

he wants to. they both want, to drown this all out. it speaks louder. so jayce squeezes his partner's fingers within his hold, breaks his hesitation and goes under, sinking into sweetly soaked membranes until enveloped. his tail shivers and flags as he does, testing the heat of it and quickly finding himself absolutely hypnotized.

he hasn't gone all the way. ]


O-oh . . . Gods—

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