#battlecast

[mvrderbvnny]

i have decided to take the title of battlecast vikjayce CEO. thank you everyone

[pikafaawork]

4 timelines

"In all timelines, in all possibilities, only you can be my better half"

-League -Arcane -Battlecast -Heavy metal

[goromimii]

Feiticeira

Sensing grief and regret, why run from our truth?

[viktor-leagueoflegends]

제빅제

by Ugyo_lol on Twitter

[mistresscitrusslice]

Jayvik Battlecast AU Part 1

Disclaimer: I don't know shit about Battlecast, but Resistance Jayce's blurb enthralled me. "While many presumed him dead, Jayce's sudden return to the Resistance has been heralded by some as a miracle and others as a curse. Burdened by guilt, he still blames himself for his failure to halt Viktor's rise. Only time will tell if Jayce can turn the tide." Heralded?? Curse???? Turn the tide in which direction???

Jayce wakes up to a gray ceiling and solid steel walls. Harsh white light burns on the periphery of his narrow vision and the faint churning of faraway machinery reminds him of where he must be.

He hopes that at least the rest of his comrades fled safely, though he doubts it. He was among the last standing that he could see, those ruthless, four-legged crablike automatons bulldozing the rest of the little outpost he was sent to supervise. It was a gargantuan fleet sent to take care of one measly outpost, almost as if Viktor had sent all his resources to that one place. Just because Jayce was there. No emotions, my ass.

The immense guilt weighs on him for having volunteered to lend a hand at the resistance’s struggling fringes. He, who was supposed to be their Defender, inadvertently signed their death warrant. Viktor saw his chance and he took it. Does anyone else know he was captured and not killed? Not likely, given that few to none would have survived to begin with. No one should come for him. Whatever awaits Jayce now will only be what he deserves. Viktor isn’t going to kill him, he knows. His fate will be much, much worse.

As his mind clears, his vision does not. His left eye has been gouged, he realizes. There’s stinging pain all over his body: broken bones, metal burns, gashes and cuts. All hastily bandaged. He must have been taken here right from the battlefield, with little time for medical aid. Any other prisoner of war wouldn’t expect their health to matter. Jayce knows what’s coming.

He scans the room. There are other beds, topped with thin mattresses, stained with old blood. All empty. The floor is segmented, like a conveyor belt, and Jayce’s stomach sickens at the reminder of the fate that awaits all who are captured. Their brains and souls harvested, then imprisoned in whatever horrifying contraption Viktor sees fit.

His eyes dart to the guard at the door. Canine ears and a jackal-like head on a bipedal body. By far the most humanoid creation to come out of his ex-partner’s nightmare factory. This newest robot made its debut in the most recent battle. It ignored all other targets on the field and made its way directly to Jayce. A hunter with a very specific prey. The very same one guards his door now, recognizable by the lingering damage left by Jayce’s hammer.

Sending an already-damaged automaton to watch his door isn’t a logical choice; it’s a taunt. No doubt there are more just outside, ready to gun him down if he manages to bare-handed wrestle his way past the jackal. It’s not even worth it, the thought of escaping. It’s likely he’s already deep inside the Herald’s central compound, dozens of layers of guards and security between him and the outside world. No feigning of surrender or biding of time will save now, this far into enemy territory.

His own placidity disturbs him a little. Even the most hopeless of prisoners throw their remaining might into one last-ditch effort. Jayce doesn’t even consider it. He tries not to think about the reason behind that, how his muscles are less tense despite the pain, how his shoulders feel like a burden has been lifted, how the reason he doesn’t try is because he doesn’t want to-

How being here feels like coming home.

He catches the jackal in the periphery of his limited vision again and his heart flutters. Did Viktor build something for the sole purpose of catching him?

[our-hextech-dream]

i love how his role in the battlecast skinline doesn't even make any fucking sense anymore. did viktor herald of the arcane create all the doombots? hm? why and how? he's not an inventor or a scientist and he doesn't care about technology anymore, he's just a mage like all of league's other already existing mages.

[exx-bee]

battlecast redesign + doodles i did last night el oh el

[tahthetrickster]

Interwoven (Miss Fortune/Katarina, 3.4k, T)

BATTLECAST VERSE

Sarah had had the new arm for very nearly a year now, and still struggled with it some days. Katarina felt just as guilty for that now as she did when Sarah was fitted for it. Supplies had been low; they just hadn’t had enough tech to go around. It had been an easy decision, logically and medically: between firing guns and handling hard-light blade tech, Katarina was the clear choice to receive fully myoelectric prostheses when her hands had been irreparably destroyed getting the pair of them out of that ambush point. Sarah’s arm, though... the tech was still perfectly serviceable, of course. It was fine. For someone the resistance largely just wanted to drop into combat and point at an enemy, it was all she really needed. An arm that moved, mostly, when she needed it to—a hand that opened or closed, mostly, when she needed it to. Sarah said she’d understood, then. And logically, she probably had. But it had still been some weeks before she could look Katarina full in the face again. Katarina didn’t even have to think about making the gesture anymore to curl her motorized fingers into the warm space in the sheets Sarah left behind now.

Sarah had had the new arm for very nearly a year now, and still struggled with it some days. Katarina felt just as guilty for that now as she did when Sarah was fitted for it.

Hair maintenance hadn’t ever been something Sarah struggled with before. The familiar bile of guilt lanced through Katarina's stomach now.