Together

Loris

Maddie

Steb

vi

bonus: pitfighter vi

caitlyn

jinx

ekko

jayce

singed

loris

No I'm Not A Human - Arcane/Vijinx AU

Part 2

***

Morning arrives with a grim revelation: smells like someone died last night.

Vi drags herself out of bed, head pounding from last night's Bober Černý. The empty cans lay around on the floor underneath, between her feet. For a moment, she almost convinces herself the smell is imagined — just another trick her exhausted mind is playing. But no. It's real. Heavy and wrong.

She forces herself upright, still clad in yesterday's wrinkled sweater and jeans. Her body moves on autopilot as she checks the house, room by room. The storeroom — two people sleeping on makeshift bedrolls. She wakes them, checks their eyes, their hands, their ears, their teeth. Clear. The kitchen — three people huddled around the table, nursing cups of stale coffee. She inspects each one methodically. Pupils normal. Fingernails clean enough. No unusual discoloration. They pass. The spare bedroom — a couple more sprawled on the couch and floor. Same routine. Eyes, hands, ears, teeth. Nothing out of the ordinary.

The living room.

Vi stops at the doorway. The smell slams into her, thick and metallic, and she knows. Even before her eyes find him, she knows.

Loris. He's on the floor, his massive body collapsed in on itself. He looks smaller somehow, wrong, in a way that makes her stomach turn. The blood has spread beneath him, dark and sticky, already starting to dry. His eyes are still open. Still human. Still holding that same kindness they always had, even now.

Her heart shatters.

Vi drops to her knees. The sob that tears from her throat is raw and animal, something she can't control. Her body shakes, convulsing as grief rips through her in waves. The first person she let into this house. The man who reminded her of-

She can't. She can't think about that right now.

A minute of silence. Maybe more. Finally, Vi wipes her tear-stricken cheeks with the back of her hand and forces herself to stand. Her legs tremble but hold.

The body needs to be dealt with. She's done this before, too many times before. Black garbage bag from under the sink. Collecting the remains with hands that have learned not to shake. Dragging it outside before the sun gets too high. Coming back to scrub the blood from the floorboards with bleach that burns her nostrils.

By the time she's done, rage has replaced grief. Cold, focused, deadly.

Someone in this house is a visitor. Someone killed Loris while Vi slept off her drunk stupor, while she was too busy spiraling about the blue-haired woman at her door to protect the people who needed her.

Vi retrieves the gun from her bedroom. Her mind cycles through the inhabitants, recalling suspicious behavior, inconsistencies, things that felt off. There were a couple of people who'd been too nervous last night, whose answers didn't quite add up, whose eyes had darted toward the exits like they were calculating escape routes.

She finds them in the bathroom. They look up as the door slams open.

Vi doesn't hesitate. She takes the shots.

Dark red splashes across the wall.

***

Loris was the first guy she took in.

Vi remembers standing at the door, squinting through the peephole at a man too tall to fit in the frame. She could only see his chest and shoulders, his head was somewhere up above, invisible. He stood there looking grumpy and awkward, like he wasn't quite sure what to say.

"Look," he said finally. "I know you're checking people. I'll lay it all out. I'm not infected. I'm not whatever the hell we're calling them. I'm just a guy who needs a place to stay because apparently being loud about the apocalypse gets you kicked out of bars now."

Something about his straightforward honesty made her step aside. "Get in."

The smile he gave her made something tight in her chest ease, if only for a moment. Within an hour, he was sitting on the living room couch like he'd always belonged there.

He'd brought beer with him, good beer, not the cheap stuff, and offered her one as thanks. Vi learned that Loris had been banished from his regular pub for being too loud, too passionate about the dangers everyone was ignoring. The sun getting hotter. The visitors. The economic collapse accelerating. He couldn't stay quiet about it, and people didn't want to hear the truth.

"I like drinking," he told her one night, three beers deep. "And I like talking to people. That's what keeps me going, you know? The world's going to hell, but at least we've got each other."

Vi appreciated that about him. He was human in a way that felt increasingly rare.

But he had another side too. When she'd check him for visitor signs — the ritual everyone had to endure — he'd get spiteful about it. Not because he had anything to hide, but because the paranoia offended him.

"Dirt under my nails?" he'd argued once, holding up his hands. "That's your evidence? Everyone's got dirt under their nails. You ever heard of gardening? Or just living in Zaun?"

Another time: "My eyes are red because I've been crying, Vi. I'm a human being with emotions. Am I not allowed to cry anymore? Is that suspicious now?"

He had a point. The fear was making everyone insane, making them see threats in shadows.

When Vi felt herself slipping into that paranoia, when every creak in the house sounded like death approaching, Loris was the voice of reason. He'd sit with her through the tough nights, beer in hand, just being there. Being solid and real.

She'd been through Stillwater. She'd survived things in that prison she still couldn't talk about. But these nights — the killings, the constant uncertainty of who was human and who wasn't — were traumatizing in a different way.

Loris would pull her into a bear hug when it got too bad. Just hold her while she shook and tell her it would be okay. That she was doing her best. That she couldn't save everyone, but she was saving some, and that mattered.

One night, after a particularly bad one where she'd had to drag out two bodies, Vi said it quietly, eyes on the floor: "You know, sometimes you remind me of my dad."

The words hung in the air. Heavy with meaning she couldn't quite articulate.

Loris smiled, sad and understanding. "I'm probably not as cool as he was though."

Vi lets out a soft laugh despite everything. "Yeah. He was pretty cool."

***

Her dad.

Vander.

Vi lies on her back in her bedroom, staring at the ceiling, trying not to let the memories overwhelm her. But they come anyway, washing over her in waves she can't control.

Vander, with his massive hands. Always trying to do the right thing.

Vander, covered in blood that October night. Trying to save her parents and failing.

Vander, taking in strays and opening a bar. Working himself ragged to keep them all fed.

Vander, who taught her that sometimes protecting the people you love means making impossible choices.

The comparison to Loris isn't perfect. Loris was gentler, more philosophical. But there was something familiar in how he looked after her. The bear hugs that made her feel anchored. The way he'd talk her down when her thoughts got too loud. It reminded her of being young, of having backup.

And now he's gone.

Just like Vander is gone.

Just like her parents and siblings are gone.

Everyone she cares about ends up dead or disappeared, and Vi is still here, trying to hold together a house full of strangers who might kill each other in the night.

She closes her eyes. The exhaustion is bone-deep.

But she can't rest. Not yet. There are still people in this house who need her to keep them alive. There's still a girl, pale like the moon, who said she'd come back.

And somewhere out there, Powder is alive. Has to be alive. Because if she's not, if that thing at Vi's door really was what's left of her little sister, then everything Vi has survived — the collapse of the state, Stillwater, the endless nights of death — all of it was for nothing.

Vi opens her eyes. Stares at the ceiling. Lets the memories of better days wash over her one more time before she has to go back and face whatever new hell today brings.

He was born and raised in Piltover, but lived a double life in Zaun at one point. As a teenager, he went through a rebellious phase that led him to joining a gang operating with the undercity, and he would regularly skip classes at his private school to cause chaos with this group of friends. Eventually, their antics escalated until it crossed a line that finally convinced Loris to abandon the life of petty crime and stay inside the borders of Piltover. Becoming an enforcer was less of a decision on his part and more of a demand from his family as retribution for his misdeeds. In fact, it’s the only thing keeping him in the will.

Despite what most would assume when they look at him, he spends a lot of time in the kitchen. He's found both a thrill in cooking complicated dishes and a quiet joy in the meticulous steps that come from baking. His hands are covered in old burn scars from the countless times he'd grabbed a scalding hot pan out of the oven without mitts, so as to avoid burning the food. 

Because of his immense size, he always finds himself in fights when he goes out drinking. Not that he ever starts them, of course, he prefers sitting back and chatting with his friends to getting into brawls off the clock. That doesn’t mean he never hits back, however, especially if someone starts bothering one of his colleagues while he’s around.

He has a bit of a passion for the arts, particularly playing the cello. It’s one of the only topics that he discusses with Caitlyn, as they share an affinity for classical music. With Maddie’s encouragement, he also began writing poetry, though he rarely ever shows her what he’s finished. 

Being the most patient member of the team, very little can make Loris genuinely angry, but something that will always make him see red is witnessing violence against a child. He firmly believes that grown men and women who physically attack defenseless children are the most pathetic creatures to walk the planet, and he isn’t afraid to turn the tables and make them experience what it’s like to fight a grown man twice their size.

Would I be wrong if I said we lost another potentially great father/daughter-like dynamic with this one?

I know Maddie was a Noxian traitor all along and I know Loris is supposed to have this dynamic with Vi more but I honestly find myself thinking Maddie being a genuine officer is better so I'm going to go with this scenario and like- Hear me out.

-> Elder, experienced and jaded enforcer who, for unknown reason, became a depressed alcoholic.

-> Young and naive junior officer who's super enthusiastic about her new job and wants to make a difference.

Maddie being such a blind and gullible Piltovian™ child, trusting whatever might come to save her city. She just doesn't see the horrors that might come with martial law because Piltover is always right, uh? Because her city is the best and she wants it to remain great and safe and she just wants to serve the cause because that's what she signed up for. She naively joins the Noxian salute because she trusts Ambessa's choice in Caitlyn as a leader. She believes in Caitlyn because why wouldn't she believe in the morals and abilities of the daughter of a renowned higher-class family and of a late councilor? Maddie doesn't know better because she was raised to believe in Piltover being great and the Undercity being dangerous so of course she's going to stand for Piltover even if it means war. A perfect little soldier, that's what she is. But hey, she's a ray of sunshine too so it's nice to know some trenchers are still good, y'know? It's nice to know there are nice ones left like Vi, right? Just- Maddie not even realizing she's being a massive classist by telling Vi is not like the rest of them!! Maddie ultimately being indoctrinated by both Piltover and Noxus. (Maddie could still be massively flawed without being a cheap villain, to me at least).

Meanwhile, Loris, who just leaves during the Noxian salute because he's old and wise and he's seen enough shit during his career. He just can't be bothered anymore and he knows the horrors which are about to happen because they always happen. He's supposed to protect and serve but all he does is cause misery. Do I headcanon he was there during the riot on the bridge that orphaned Vi and Powder? Yes, absolutely. Maybe he was the one who threw the explosive which killed Felicia and Connol. Loris looks like Vander but Loris killed Vi and Powder's parents while Vander took the girls under his wing as a new father. Like- can you see the vision??? Loris being done with everything because he knows the "values" he signed for ultimately are violence and inequality. He probably started his career like Maddie and eventually realized that the grandeur of Piltover is a cruel disillusionment. He wanted to take Maddie under his wing, shield her from all of this only for her to follow the masses. All Loris can do is lose himself in unhealthy coping mechanisms in order to make it. Still, he'll always fight for the people he swore to protect, even if it means dying in the end, knowing he truly fought the right war this time.

“Do I?” You smirked.

He placed a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Yes.” He pulled back, lifting your chin to get you to look at him. “It scares me.”

“Because I make you vulnerable?”

“That there was a time I didn’t know you and that I almost didn’t.” He clarified.

You reached up, brushing your fingers over his facial hair, beaming up at him.

“Well, I wouldn’t have let you get away.” You gave him a couple more kisses.

He smiled, rubbing his thumb over your lips.

“I’m okay with being vulnerable if it means I get to be with you.” He admitted in a whisper.

He then cupped the back of your head, pulling you in, resting his forehead against yours as he closed his eyes with a sigh.

You mirrored him, humming happily.