#I raise you heimerdinger

[imsaunteringvaguelydownwards]

if I hear one more person say that Vik is ace I’m gonna go jump off a cliff (read the tags if u want a rant)

[fantasticgothicpeachsludge]

In a perfect world, Ekko and Jayce would have had a brother-like dynamic and would share an incredulous look behind Heimerdinger whenever he does anything Heimerdingery.

[spatialwave]

"my ambition" - part three | the prequel

➸ pairing: jayvik x fem!reader ➸ word count: 4.5k ➸ tags: mdni! minimal nsfw, fluffly, poly relationship, relationship beginnings, blossoming love, s1 act 1, no mention of y/n, alcohol use. ➸ notes: so excited to get this out! had a fun time giving this relationship history and i spent way too much time overthinking whether the ending was too rushed or if it was too self-indulgent... and then i realized its a fic so i get to do what i want LOL! pls let me know if you would like more parts, or if you want some drabbles about this specific trio. i would really appreciate it.🥹

<- part 2

You had always been academically gifted. Rising to the top of your classes each semester, pushing aside anyone in your way. Especially for a young woman, who had been accepted into the Academy before you had even finished your secondary schooling – a gifted student with the proudest of parents and professors.

Born with an influx of ambition flowing through your veins, knowing from a young age your duties to the world. It took more than wordy false promises to make a difference to Runeterra, it took action. That’s why you vowed to help Zaun.

What better way to take action, than to help those who had been long forgotten about. You were smart enough to see the way the city had been tossed aside, forgotten about, while Piltover only continued to grow and thrive. There was sickness festering underneath, people dying because of the less-than living conditions and poverty that swallowed it whole.

There were many days when you wondered if it was too much, if you, as a topsider, could actually make a difference. Would anyone want your help? The bigger question being – how were you going to help?

Then, you met Viktor. 

That was when your ambition rose higher than ever. A smart, young man a handful of years older than you – a man from Zaun himself. The youngest assistant to the dean, a title that was hard to come by, and rather jealousy inducing.

You’d weaseled your way into his life quite easily, finding him in the halls and striking conversation whenever you could. He was polite, and good at slipping away when your attention became overbearing. You couldn’t help your over-excitement for a scholar from the undercity. Someone who matched your levels of ambition. Someone who was able to teach you about the place that had been nothing more than whispers and off-hand comments by your peers.

You fell in love. Quickly, and hard.

Viktor, too. It was your smile, your innate excitement, the genuine intrigue you had of him and how he was able to share the experiences of chronic illness with someone who wasn’t just a damned doctor – someone who understood the pain. How could he not fall in love?

Viktor found himself appreciating you more and more with each passing day, wondering when you’d sneak through the halls to find him to share your newest revelation.

Wondering when he could be expected to be pulled into a broom closet so you could ravage his lips with your own. He hadn’t been so experienced with romance until you appeared in his life, content with focusing on his studies at the academy. You changed the trajectory of his life—and so had Jayce.

-

”Hextech?” You raised an eyebrow, sitting on a stone bench within the academy courtyard and holding a half-eaten apple in your hand, “I don’t know. Sounds… unstable,” you murmured honestly, looking between Viktor’s eyes as he stood in front of you. You took another bite, the sweet flavour calming you.

You had to admit, as much as you were uncomfortable with this new scientific breakthrough, so to speak, you had never seen Viktor quite this excited about anything.

“Precisely,” Viktor said, eyes practically shimmering as he spoke to you, “that’s why you’re going to help.”

“No way,” you huffed, standing on your feet and waving him away, “you just told me that all the work got confiscated, how the hell would I even help?” You spoke in a hushed whisper, as if Heimerdinger himself was listening in to the conversation.

“Eh, confiscated is a loose term,” he said, taking a step toward you, a gentle hand on your shoulder. You tensed at the touch, turning your head from his gaze and shaking your head adamantly.

You had morals, and perhaps you listened to the dean a bit too much at times. Science was incredible, but ethics were important, and the explosion was proof that it was an unpredictable type of magic. If Heimerdinger made the call that hextech was unsafe, a yordle with decades over your own experiences, then you should listen, no?

“It has the capabilities of helping more than just the city,” he urged, fingers tightening on your shoulder, “Please. Let us show you.”

Those words tugged at your heartstrings, leaving you conflicted as your heart yearned to know more. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes momentarily as your mind reeled at all the possibilities.

The first image to pop in your mind was the proper union of Zaun and Piltover, an incredible feat that no one could ever pull off. No more distinction between the two – just one beautiful place to live. Your dream.

Could hextech really be the key?

“Fine,” you sighed, crinkling your nose and opening your eyes, “but I’m under no obligation to like this Jayce guy, he sounds like he doesn’t know how to properly take care of his research.” You looked up at Viktor through your lashes, watching the way the corners of his lips curved into a small smile, “Why are you smiling like that?”

—

“Crank it!” Jayce exclaimed from his chair, eyes full of childlike wonder, as Viktor stood at the chalkboard, crossing through equations and murmuring about the research he was still properly acquainting himself with.

You, however, stood next to Jayce, chewing hard on your bottom lip as your partner agreed with his words.

It all seemed fine, plausible, even. Yet, you remained apprehensive.

“And it if it doesn’t stabilize, what then? Part two of the great blue explosion that destroyed your apartment?” You asked, eyes focusing on the man sitting, his honey-coloured eyes shining as they watched you. Your stomach twisted tight, hating the way he made you fill with butterflies.

You knew him for less than twenty-four hours, and he already had you twisted around his fingers. Gods.

It was completely unfair to be caught between them both.

“It’s worth a test,” he was adamant, then a sigh left his lips, “but we don’t have access to my equipment.”

“Which is being destroyed tomorrow,” Viktor murmured, eyes back on the chalkboard and fingers touching his chin as he was lost deep in thought.

You jumped when Jayce stood quickly, the chair he sat on nearly toppling over.

“What?” he asked, panic rising in his throat.

“Oh, yeah,” Viktor cringed, looking over his shoulder at Jayce, “Sorry. I meant to tell you.”

You could sense the way Jayce was teetering on the edge of a breakdown, his breath hitching in his throat as he rambled on about how it was his life work, how they could show the council the equations to show them the proof. There had to be something!

But Viktor was right, proof wasn’t reliable on paper. They needed physical proof. A real test.

“We can’t do it without the crystals. The enforcers took them all, they’re gone,” Jayce ran his hands over his face as he collapsed onto the chair once more, deflated from the situation.

Your hand rested atop his shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze, much like Viktor did with you when you were overworked. Jayce flickered his gaze to you, those puppy-like eyes offering a silent ‘thank-you’.

“Mhm,” Viktor hummed, “locked away in Heimerdinger’s lab,” he continued, eyes settling on you.

“No,” you were quick to know where he was going with this, “Count me out, we are not breaking in.”

“She’s right,” Jayce said, eyes widening, “you heard the council, if we’re wrong–”

“Better be right then,” Viktor interrupted, and Jayce’s eyes sparkled with possibility.

You felt a tightness in your chest, shaking your head as you took a step back. The two of them spoke back and forth, but you hadn’t been listening. Just as you reached the boiling point, you turned on your heels and took a step away, but Jayce was quick to turn his attention back to you. He stepped forward, hand grabbing your wrist, and you felt your heart jump up into your throat.

“Stay,” he pleaded, hand tightening.

You huffed a loud sigh through your nostrils, brows creasing together and lifting. Gods, why did he have to be so goddamned charming? You hardly noticed the curious look that Viktor gave you two before rolling his eyes and turning back to the chalkboard. The smirk on his lips well hidden.

“Fine!” You snapped, pulling your arm from his grip, “but if we get caught I’m telling everyone that you two made me do it. I am not taking the fall for this.”

Jayce grinned, a toothy smile that lit your cheeks aflame, “Deal.”

You stayed a few feet behind the two men, arms crossed over your chest, as you careened through the halls quietly. You were hardly a rule breaker, in fact, usually a stickler for keeping peace. It was in your nature, like many topsiders.

When the three of you reached the door, you felt panic rising as footsteps echoed down the hall from where you had just come from.

“Shit,” Jayce whispered, “hurry.”

Viktor was fiddling with the keys, fingers filtering through them until he found the one for Heimerdinger’s lab. With practiced ease, he slipped the key into the door lock, twisting back and forth until it clicked.

Both you and Jayce were standing side-by-side, watching a flashlight in the distance, pointing in your direction, but too far to pick up on the three figures breaking in.

Viktor opened the door, and they stepped inside, but you were frozen. Unable to tear your gaze away from the enforcer that had been doing patrols and walking right toward you.

“Ah!” You gasped when there was a harsh tug on your arm, stumbling into the laboratory and crashing against Jayce’s chest. Viktor closed the door behind you without even the slightest creaking – a perfectly silent entrance.

“You've never broken a rule in your life, have you?” Jayce smiled, eyes watching you with curiosity as you pulled away from him yet again. You opened your mouth to answer but Viktor cut you off.

“She is a law-abiding citizen,” he answered, supporting himself on his cane as he walked further into the lab, looking around for the confiscated equipment.

“Can you guys keep it down? They’ll hear us.” You whispered, pushing past Jayce. Annoyed, and thankful the redness on your cheeks wasn’t visible in the darkened room.

“Huh,” Jayce grinned in response to Viktor, walking behind you as he looked around the lab, “you’re not kidding.”

“Shut up.” You hissed.

Settling in the lab, you stood off to the side, peering at some of Heimerdinger’s books as Jayce scrambled to find the pieces of his work. You listened to the sounds of the electrical whirring as he welded the parts back together, lost in thought as your fingers traced over the spine of a book.

A hand lifted to the small of your back, startling you for a moment.

“Sorry,” Viktor murmured, eyes watching you.

“It’s okay,” you chuckled, smiling as you leaned against him. Silence grew between you two as you slowly dropped your hand from the bookcase. You glanced at Viktor, biting down on the inside of your lip in habit, “Do you think hextech really has the strength to help people? Like us?”

Those honey-eyes softened as they flickered over your nervous expression, and he nodded, “I do.”

With a deep inhale, you tried to let go of your apprehension to the situation. This was for the best. If you wanted to reach your dreams, you had to run over a few toes, right?

“It’s all here,” Jayce called from his spot at the table, pulling the goggles off of his face and turning to look over at you two.

Viktor held up a blue hextech crystal to you, one from the handful that was confiscated, and when you offered him a questionable look, he insisted with the forward movement of his hand. Slowly, you reached out and took it in your fingers, feeling the rigid orb press against your skin.

This was it.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek before making your way to Jayce, who had been looking at you two with a small smile.

“Here,” you said, offering the crystal with an open palm as you stood next to him, Viktor coming up beside you.

Jayce reached out, taking the crystal, but not without a lingering touch to your hand. Viktor took notice, a sparkle in his eyes that you hadn’t noticed as you watched in curiosity as the hextech crystal was placed into the machinery.

It glowed a bright blue hue, sparks from the crystal illuminating the room. You had never seen anything so beautiful.

“It’s time to crank it!” Viktor said excitedly as he snapped close one of Jayce’s notebooks he had spent time looking through the past few days, looking in front of you and toward Jayce.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” He asked, growing uncertain as Viktor sucked back a breath and shook his head.

“Do it,” you interjected, eyes wide as you stared at the beauty of the hextech. The inner scientist in you couldn’t be tamed any longer, you needed to see what this could do. It was almost addicting, and you couldn’t look away. It had sucked you in completely, “you have to try.”

They shared a look between each other, swallowing lumps down their throats. Viktor leaned forward, pressing the button of the machine, and it began to spin. It gained enough speed that it created a constant blow of wind that pushed your hair back wildly – electric currents flying wildly.

“I don’t think it’s going to hold!” Jayce said loudly, the electrical crackling of the machine deafening all other noses, “look at the buildup!”

“The resonance will stabilize it, trust me,” Viktor returned, sharing a thoughtful look with Jayce, an attempt to calm him.

You, however, were unable to look away. You stared at the wild glows of blue, a smile on your face, and blissfully unaware of the enforcers that were making their way up to the laboratory after seeing the blue light shining from the windows of the lab.

Moments later, the chaos settled, and you gasped with a big smile, hands slamming on the tabletop, “this is incredible!” You exclaimed in awe, watching as it stabilized.

Viktor smiled to himself, his hand finding your back yet again, “told you it would work,” he said encouragingly, eyes flickering to Jayce, “all yours.”

“It’s never done that before,” he murmured to himself, unable to tear his gaze from the slowly spinning crystal that sent waves of electricity to the surrounding runes, “...alright. Here we go.”

Hesitantly, he reached to the button Viktor had pressed, twisting the knob several times, so the surrounding runes began to spin and orbit the crystal.

You watched expectantly as Jayce twisted it over and over, creating different pathways for the crystal to spark energy. You couldn’t help but lean closer, even when the out flowing electricity stung your cheeks.

What the three of you hadn’t expected was a surge of energy to blast out, nearly toppling you all and breaking the lab’s windows. Within the impact, you fell right into Jayce with a yelp. Strong arms wrapped around you as he reached for the knob, and you clung to him, face buried into his chest.

The energy was strong, and for a moment you prepared for the untimely death of three scientists who just wanted to change lives. How fitting.

Then, the glass from the window flew back into place, as though time around you reversed, causing a brief moment of respite and enough time for Jayce to push forward and slam his hand on the button. The crystal fell back into place, and you were all able to breathe.

Slowly, you peeled yourself away from Jayce, feeling around your face and body to make sure your body was still completely intact.

“Incredible,” Viktor beamed, smiling, “we need to try again.”

You and Jayce shared a look, silently agreeing that it was now or never. And for you, there was no more backing out.

This time, you took a few steps back, not wanting to be caught up in the aftermath of a worse explosion, but still curious enough to peek over their shoulders. As you settled back, you swore you heard sounds coming from the hallway, but it was hard to tell over the crackling sounds of the hextech.

Pressing your ear against the door, you closed your eyes to focus, and you gasped.

“Someone’s coming,” you told them, hands holding the doorknob tight, “you better hurry.”

Viktor took a few steps to the door, sliding his cane through the handles of the door so it was snug, “better than nothing.”

The two of you shared a startled gasp, the rattling of the door loud when the enforcers reached the door and began to hit it with force, kicking and yelling for you to open up. Heimerdinger was with them.

“Stop this lunacy at once!” He called from beyond the door, and your gut twisted in guilt.

A few more heavy kicks and the door creaked.

“They’re almost through,” Viktor said, turning around back to Jayce’s side, “no pressure.”

“That sounds like pressure!” Jayce yelled, working hard to synchronize the runes with the knob. He looked over his shoulder at you, who was now pressing against the door with your weight. With each kick of the door, you huffed, doing your best to keep them from pushing it in.

A rather heavy kick caused you to stumble, but you got right back to it, watching over your shoulder as Jayce closed his eyes and focused on the hextech. 

Your attention was pulled back to the door when the cane cracked, and you tried to push against the door, but it was no use. One more kick and you’d be goners.

But the hextech won.

The sound of another surge pushed you against the door, and you panicked at the intensity that felt like it was going to crush you, and then suddenly… you were weightless. You turned to Jayce and Viktor, eyes wide, as you all had begun to float up into the air.

After one more kick, they broke inside, but the surge reached them, too. They stumbled back, while you had started laughing.

It was incredible, absolutely incredible.

“Excuse me, underfoot,” Heimerdinger spoke, pushing past the enforcer and stepping inside his lab, gasping when his eyes landed on you three.

You were nearly touching the ceiling, floating with your belly to the ground and caught slowly spinning between Jayce and Viktor. Your giggles erupted into a fit of laughter, unable to control it as you twisted around in the air. 

Jayce flicked a piece of metal, where it floated through a glowing blue orb that was just above you, and it shot out right at Viktor. You collectively gasped, taking everything in.

This was magic and science blurred together, a medley of perfection. Hextech worked. You did it!

“Will you please stop hovering?” Heimerdinger spoke, looking up as you spun your body around, touching and prodding at debris.

It was like swimming, you were able to push yourself, and you accidentally collided against Jayce, the two of you sharing a laugh. You couldn’t quite place it, but as your eyes caught his, you felt something – like a mutual intrigue of each other. Was attraction too strong of a word? Your cheeks reddened, matching his own, then he cleared his throat and turned his gaze away.

“I’m not sure how to do that, sir,” Viktor finally responded, pushing toward you both and smiling as the three of you moved around together smoothly, not touching. Floating. Feeling free.

Like all things in life, it didn’t last. The surged power of the hextech settled, and thankfully it was a smooth descend that kept you three from any broken bones.

Viktor had been wrangled by Heimerdinger, only after a good verbal lashing that included you and Jayce. Blabbering about the rules, ethics and how dangerous this was. At the end, your partner had been whisked away for damage control, trying to explain everything and to keep any of you three from penalties and punishments.

It left you and Jayce to clean up, gathering everything together into the back area of the lab, still in awe over everything that had happened.

Once finished, you stepped out into the brisk night air first, somehow still chipper enough to bounce down the steps while Jayce hustled behind you. You hadn’t been so inclined to do goodbyes, but he stopped you with a hand on your wrist, much like earlier. It sent a shiver up your arm.

“Wait,” he said, and you faced him, battling the redness that crept up your neck as you tried to remain composed, “will you stay?” he asked, grip loosening on your wrist, “to help us, I mean.”

“With the hextech? Of course,” you answered, rolling your eyes playfully, “Who in their right mind would see that and not want to explore it? That was incredible, Jayce. You should be really proud of yourself.”

A smile lifted at the corners of his cheeks, the compliment doing wonders to the insecurities that lie deep within him.

“Wanted to make sure,” he eventually said, dropping your wrist as you both ventured away and into Piltover, toward your homes, “I like you. Well, I mean – you’re good to have around. Smart, you know.”

A giggle bubbled up, a hand lifting to your mouth to try to stifle it, “you’re a dork, just like Viktor.”

Jayce smiled at you, biting down on his bottom lip as the two of you ventured down the streets together, “how long have you two been together?”

The question was quick to fluster you as you met Jayce’s curious gaze. You wondered if the question accidentally slipped out, and you could ignore it, but you could tell he was waiting for an answer.

“Oh, uh, just a couple of months. Officially.” You answered shyly, hands clasped behind your back as you walked side-by-side.

“That’s nice,” he murmured, “...so, has he always been so absurdly intense about science? Don’t get me wrong, I like everything about his ambitions, he’s a great guy for even wanting to help me. He’s just���“

“Surprisingly eccentric?” You laughed, nodding, “when he gets excited about something, it’s like his brain goes haywire. I suppose that’s the way of being an ambitious innovator”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” Jayce smiled, quietly admiring you in the moonlight. Studying and memorizing everything he could.

The two of you ended up walking around aimlessly, indulging in small chatter as you shared your hopes and dreams. You shared nearly everything you could about your life, and he told his story about him and his mother, and how that sparked his discovery towards hextech. It was easy to talk to Jayce, to get lost in his voice – he was just so damned kind.

Nearly an hour passed when you finally approached your apartment, which was rather close to the Academy. The two of you had simply taken a few detours around the neighbouring streets.

“Trust me, if you want to get on the dean’s good side, then you need to…” your voice drifted off when your eyes settled on a certain individual sitting outside on a stone bench. Broken cane in his hand and looking up at the sky. “Viktor!” You called out, rushing ahead, “if I had known you were coming back to mine, I would’ve hurried back.”

He turned to look at you two, raising a curious eyebrow and smirking as Jayce slowed his pace behind you, “I have only been here a few minutes, it’s all right.”

You dug around for your keys in your pocket, walking up to him and outstretching an arm for support as he stood. He could walk relatively okay without his cane, but you still enjoyed the way he would lean on you. It became habitual between you two.

“I should leave you both to it,” Jayce cleared his throat, giving an awkward wave as you two ventured toward the apartment.

“Why don’t you come in?” Viktor asked, motioning for him to follow.

You looked up at him in interest, figuring the two of you would be falling asleep the moment you got inside. Nonetheless, you went along with it.

“No, no, it’s late. I don’t want to overstay–”

“Come inside, Jayce. We don’t bite.”

Viktor was convincing enough, or perhaps Jayce had too much of a soft spot for him because he was quick to accept the invitation.

It ended up being a great night, the three of you crowding around your kitchen table. Drinking some nicely aged wine you had hidden away for only the most important occasions. You celebrated your shared success and discussed everything hextech, the possibilities and what you hoped it would provide. You shared laughs, especially as the night went on, and you had all begun to feel a bit delirious at times as the sun began lighting the sky above the horizon and the wine settled in your stomachs.

“Well, I hate to be the one to end the night,” you smiled, sleep beginning to win its war over you, “I’m tired and sore, I should get some sleep.”

“Yeah, I should get back to mine, or, what’s left of it,” Jayce agreed with a dampened chuckle, eyes flickering out of the window to gauge the time with the colour of the skyline.

“Why don’t you stay the night?” The question fell from your lips much too quickly, unsure if it was your overt politeness or an underlying desire that lead it, “if you’re okay with that.” You shot your gaze to Viktor.

It felt like hours, but the few seconds you took to share a look said lots. A silent agreement about your shared feelings for Jayce.

“Sure,” he answered. A shy smile tugged at your lips, and your lover turned back to Jayce.

The man seemed a bit uncertain, and maybe a bit too tipsy to understand the looks thrown at him. His amber eyes jumped between you two, “I’ve intruded far too mu–”

“Stay.” Your voice mixed with Viktor’s almost too perfectly, in complete synchronization.

“Okay.”

The night became a blur. It was Viktor who had led you both to the bedroom, the wine clouding all judgment from the three parties and allowing you to just be. To indulge in each other without wondering what would come next. To allow yourselves to act on attraction and lust with nothing holding you back.

“I’m glad you stayed,” you murmured, lips lingering along the stubble on Jayce’s jawline. Viktor, who was behind you, peppered kisses along your bare shoulders.

“Me too,” Jayce breathed in response, hands careening your naked body and intertwining with Viktor’s fingers with they met over your hip.

“Let’s stop talking,” Viktor mumbled with a quick nip at your skin, the confidence in his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

Jayce wasn’t quite certain how he managed to be wrangled in by you both, but he wasn’t going to complain. Not when, for once, everything felt right.

[hexhomos]

Hello fellow Jayce defender.

First off, virtual kisses on both your cheeks for your Arcane analysis. They're refreshing to read, and insightful as well.

Something that's always bothered me about the way fans interact with Jayce is assuming that he's always the one making the mistakes in any of his relationships. It's almost funny in a way how they strip other characters of their autonomy and arcs just so they can point out how Jayce is failing his partners.

With Mel and Viktor especially, there's this narrative that Jayce simultaneously ignores both of their needs while also prioritising one over the other. Either he neglects Viktor to go and swoon over Mel, or he abandons his relationship with Mel to go play science with Viktor, or he neglects both to go do his own things while they suffer through their own plots.

And it's fascinating how incredibly mistaken these people are, and also how they reduce his character to only being important when he's in a relationship.

I'm here like, "hey, do you wanna discuss the reason for how Jayce seemingly knows how to navigate the ways of high class society very easily is probably because he's had to rely on sponsorships and donations for most of his youth to find his research because his house is too poor to be able afford it?"

Or "It's canonical that Jayce only ever had one friend in his youth before Viktor, and that was the daughter of his main sponsor, do you think it's interesting that this indicates he probably had difficulty making or maintaining friendships and that this is possibly a symptom of the Academy mainly housing elite and rich students so they couldn't relate to his struggles and he couldn't relate to theirs?"

But no, people just want to hate on him for not being the picture perfect boytoy in a relationship.

And I mean, it's not like it's just reduced to Jayce either. So many other characters have had similar treatments where they're reduced to either their most basic qualities or mischaracterised entirely. And I'm really not trying to be the fandom police or whatever - everyone interprets differently - I just find it frustrating is all.

Anyways, you're cool.

YES I never have time to talk about this bc people don't give a fuck but in Jayce's journals we even see him stewing with envy and petty rage at this star-rising student on the academy that he sees as the example of a perfect prodigy (in opposition to how much Jayce fucks things up...)

It also strongly suggests he's on a scholarship, which ties into his suicide attempt.

Jayce is keeping his experiments a secret from everyone to avoid the blowback and isolating himself further and further when they don't work. Jayce is flawed! He's proud of his dream pitch to the point of hilarity. Jayce doesn't like socializing, he does it out of obligation! Even when he's being raised to a councilor position in s1 he's PANICKING. He doesn't want the fucking job, he doesn't like the parties nor the people, his truest honest self is that moment in season 2 where he declares the lab was always his home, and so was Viktor.

But even then he subsumes his own wants spends most of s1 trying to attend to the needs of other people. He routinely asks Viktor if he's alright, if he wants to come up to do the presentation, if he's sure those experiments are safe, etc. He tries to make Heimerdinger proud despite his constant rejections of their projects, and only turns on him when he threatens viktor's wellbeing. The reason why he doesn't announce anything on progress day is that he Was listening to Heimers so-called wisdom and it only bit him in the ass. Jayce gets himself in trouble with the council by being too naive and assuming his new post will allow him to crackdown on Piltovan corruption aided by the Hexgates. Majority of the complaints wrt relationships I see people making of him are just wildly exaggerated. "He was neglecting viktor" bro he talks about viktor in nearly every scene he has with mel 😭 viktor is the one who isolates himself and randomly disappears at times bc he's a grown man with his own boundaries.

Jayce's entire life is defined by the transactional nature of his existence, his work, the patronage receives - all depending on how much he can play the showpony role without fucking it up. It's not a comfortable position. Jayce is stressing out the whole damn show because if one person isn't pissed at him, someone else will be, and it always comes down to revokable money, investments, social standing. if he really was as uncaring and well-off as some claim he wouldn't give a shit. He could just coast along life, but that's not what he's doing ever. He only 'frees' himself in season 2 by abandoning his life's dream and the rotten reality that existed around it. Which is kind of bleak, but at least its over.

[galactic-magick]

Maybe in Another Universe, You're Still the Man I Love: Viktor x Reader

Summary: You get sent to the same alternate timeline with Ekko and Heimerdinger, and you find out just how wonderful your life could've been.

Words: 2.1k

Author's Notes: Yeah so that finale sent me into deep grief and writing is the only way I can heal I fear. I hope you enjoy this interpretation of what Viktor could be doing in the alternate timeline.

“Are you alright, darling?”

Your vision comes into focus, though your head is still pounding. You’re extremely nauseous, feeling like your body is not your own as you become aware of the all-too-familiar voice that just spoke to you.

You’re sitting on a desk in an Academy classroom, journals and various papers surrounding you. The sun is shining through the windows, cascading gold onto the other desks and tables. It’s a peaceful, simple sight. Something that feels so wrong for precisely that reason.

“I don’t have another class for a while, you can talk to me,” Viktor says, brushing his fingers against your face. “Care to tell me why you’re looking at me like that?”

You suppose you look like you’ve seen a ghost, which isn’t so far from the truth. You must be dreaming—maybe hallucinating—anything to explain how this isn’t real.

“I…” you start, failing to find the words to say.

-

You storm into the lab, locking your eyes on the empty hexcore cocoon, then at Jayce.

“Where the fuck is he?”

“I don’t know!” Jayce fires back at you, clearly just as distraught as you are. “He woke up and told me he needed to leave me and this place. I have no idea where he went!”

“Why didn’t you follow him?” you scream, your mind spinning. Who knows how the hexcore changed him, he could literally be anywhere.

“He didn’t want me to! What don’t you understand?” Jayce slumps back into his chair, his face in his hands. As soon as he notices a tear fall down your cheek, his tone softens. “Look, I...we both know he’s been different since he started messing with the hexcore. He had told me to destroy it...but I couldn’t. And now he’s even more different. I’m so sorry,”

“Jayce…” you walk towards him. “I’m not blaming you for anything that’s happened. He’s been pushing both of us away for a long time. I guess...I just thought maybe when he woke up he’d love me again like he used to. Did he even ask about me?”

Jayce shakes his head, and your heart sinks even further.

-

“I think I’m dreaming,” you finally say, and Viktor tilts his head. “This...this isn’t real. We’re not like this, we haven’t been like this in a long time. You’re not...what are you here, a professor?”

He cups your face and kisses your forehead, “Darling, I don’t think you’ve been getting enough sleep, you’re talking nonsense,”

“No, no, no,” you jump off the desk and pace around the room. “If this isn’t a dream, then where am I? Some sort of other reality?”

“You mean to say you believe...this is not your world?” Viktor takes in your words intently.

“Well in my world, you fell out of love with me in favor of your work, and then you nearly died and got severely mutated by the hexcore. So yeah, I’d say things are pretty different,”

He raises an eyebrow, “Hex...core?”

“You don’t have that here?”

“Seemingly not,”

You sigh, perching yourself back on the desk, “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“No, I...I have theorized the possibility of alternate universes before, but I never thought I would come face to face with it in my lifetime,” he starts writing on the wall chalkboard. “I see no reason not to believe you. After all, my wife of this universe would probably not be saying these things,”

“We’re married?”

“Of course. Now tell me, what else is different in your universe?”

-

You’ve tried to find him everywhere—going all the secret places the two of you would go in the past, and asking people if they’ve seen him both topside and bottom. There’s no signs, not even a clue. He doesn’t want to be found.

You make your way back to Jayce’s lab, surprised to see Heimerdinger and a young man you don’t recognize with him. They fill you in on their concern about wild runes showing up around the city, and their plan to check on the hexgates. You’re desperate for anything to get your mind off Viktor, so you go along with them.

You’ve never been to the source of the hexgates before, and it’s even more grand than you imagined. One thing could go wrong and the entire thing would explode, but it’s precisely the potential of destruction that makes it all the more fascinating.

That is, until it becomes entirely unpredictable.

Your surroundings change at the blink of an eye—warped visuals and sounds you can’t make out. You scream for the others, but no one can hear.

-

You do your best to describe all the important events and details of your timeline, while Viktor takes notes on the chalkboard and compares what you say to his timeline. He seems particularly interested in his inventions in your timeline, and his partnership with Jayce—who’s no longer alive in his timeline.

“He died in an explosion here at the academy several years ago, it was a tragic accident that also killed a young girl from the undercity. He was a friend and a brilliant mind,” he pauses. “We...actually named our son after him.”

Your eyes widen, overwhelmed by this possibility of what could’ve been, “We have a son?”

“We do. And he’s perfect,” Viktor smiles softly. “You really are from a different time, aren’t you?”

You nod, trying to hold back tears. Why does this reality’s version of you get to be happy? Why does this Viktor get to dodge corruption and the hands of hubris?

Viktor gazes once again on the chalkboard notes, looking for patterns and causes for the differences in your timelines. Would he have reached the same fate if Jayce was still alive? What caused the Undercity to heal and thrive in his timeline but not in yours? Was this hextech you speak of really so destructive?

You are the same person he fell in love with, there’s no doubt in his mind about that, but you’ve been significantly more hurt than the Y/N he knows.

He steps close to you again, wiping the tears from your face and pulling you into him, “I’m so sorry your version of me has taken a different path.”

You sob into his chest, gripping his clothes. He runs his fingers through your hair and rubs your back, soothing you as if you’re his own.

But you’re not his. This isn’t your life.

You pull away, taking a deep breath, “As much as I want to stay here, I can’t keep taking over the consciousness of the me in this world. I need to find the others,”

“I don’t know if it’s possible for you to get back,” he says. “You say you got here through hextech, and that was never invented here.”

“We’ll find a way,” you run to the window, looking out to get a gauge of where you are. Heimerdinger might have landed somewhere here in the Academy too, and Ekko probably went back to the Undercity. But Jayce—if he’s dead in this universe—where would he be?

“Before you go,” Viktor places a hand on your shoulder. “Would you like to meet our son?”

Anxiety washes over you, your body going numb from the prospect. Would it only hurt you more to see a life that you could’ve created?

“Don’t you have more classes to teach, professor?” you smile, trying to turn your nervousness into something lighthearted.

“I’ll cancel for today. It’s about the time you usually pick him up from school anyway,”

He grabs his cane with one hand and takes your hand with the other, posting a quick note on his door as you leave.

-

You sit on a bench outside the elementary school, your heart pounding. This child is going to run out that building any minute, eager to see the mother he’s always known.

But you’re not her. You didn’t carry him, birth him, or raise him. You don’t have the same memories and experiences.

But you must pretend that you do.

You know which one he is immediately. He’s a perfect combination of yours and Viktor’s features, just like you’d imagined. His smile is contagious, and he wastes no time jumping into your arms.

“Look what I made at school today, Mommy!” he puts a crafty contraption in front of your face, a colorful collection of sticks and paper glued together.

“That’s so creative, honey, I love it,” but your attention is solely focused on him, his sweet face glowing with pride and joy.

“Quite the little inventor, aren’t you?” Viktor applauds him. “What else did you learn today?”

“We did reading and spelling. I can spell family now. F-A-M-I-L-E!”

“Close, sweetheart. There’s a ‘Y’ at the end,” you laugh,

“Are you sure about that?” he says, wincing his adorable face in thought. “Whatever. I learned how to spell brother and sister too, but I don’t have any of those. How do I get one of those?”

Viktor chuckles, “I’ll talk about it with your Mommy, how about that?”

“Okay!” he jumps up and starts walking home with the two of you.

-

What if I stayed? You wonder.

You’re playing with your son on the living room floor, with toys mostly made by Viktor himself. The house is small but cozy, a home you wish was really yours. What if you just stay in this dream reality forever?

What if you never find the others? What if there really is no way to get back?

But no, that wouldn’t be fair to the you of this reality. She’s the one who has this life, not you. Besides, Viktor and his son deserve their wife and mother back.

You hear a knock on the door, and Viktor goes to open it.

“Oh, Viktor, it is so good to see you.”

Your head swivels instantly towards the yordle in the entryway, “Heimerdinger! You found me!” you join Viktor at the door, “Where’s Ekko and Jayce?”

“I have not found Jayce as of yet, but I did find Ekko and sent him back to his timeline about a week ago. We found some hextech fragments and were able to use them to jump through time and space.”

“So...I can get home too?”

“As soon as you’re ready. We built the machine in a young girl’s lab in the Undercity,” he looks between you, then Viktor, and finally your son. His attitude of urgency dissipates as he begins to understand. “But...I could not blame you if you want to stay longer.”

Your son Jayce comes running to join you, grabbing onto your leg, “Who’s this guy, Mommy?”

“This is Professor Heimerdinger, he used to work at the Academy,” you pat his head, “Your dad used to be his assistant.”

“I’m sure you already have a brilliant mind, my boy,” Heimerdinger says. “Your parents must be proud.”

Little Jayce giggles.

“Actually, I would very much like to see this new invention you’ve built, Professor,” Viktor speaks up. “I’m now quite intrigued by the prospect of other universes.”

“I have no rule against you observing, Viktor, but I’m sure you understand I must destroy it after we all get back. It is too dangerous to be left here unsupervised,” Heimerdinger’s tone becomes more serious. “I’m sure Y/N has told you of the destruction hextech caused in our universe, especially to you.”

“Of course, Professor. I understand.”

-

You’ve never seen the Undercity look this beautiful.

It seems that the other version of you comes here often, so many people wave to you and little Jayce automatically runs off with some kids his age to play.

You meet a blue-haired young lady named Powder, who helped Heimerdinger and Ekko in their experiments. She looks so familiar to you, but you can’t place where you’ve seen her in your reality.

Heimerdinger explains how it works, and both you and Viktor listen intently. With everything up and running, you could go back this instant.

The pull to go back is strong, like an obligation to return to your rightful place in the universe. But the pull to stay is equally strong, as you gaze into your husband’s beautiful amber eyes that you want to find solace in forever.

“It’s your choice, my love,” Viktor says, as if reading your mind.

“I know I need to go back…” you exhale, tears welling in your eyes once again. “But I don’t know what I’m going back to,”

“I don’t know either,” he caresses your face, “But I do know you are strong in every universe,”

“I’m not,” you shake your head, “Not without you.”

“Don’t say that,” his thumbs smooth across your cheeks.

You nod, turning towards the device.

“Could you…could you kiss me one last time?” you ask.

Viktor wastes no time honoring your request, crashing his lips to yours with lasting passion. He pulls away only as you back into the circle, leaving you with one last affectionate whisper:

“I’m so fortunate to have met another version of you, my love.”

[aimfor-theheart]

to break first

|| mel medarda x reader, jayce talis x reader, viktor x reader || E/18+ || messy dynamics/hurt/comfort || wc: 6k || ao3 ||

minors and ageless blogs dni, 18+

Your lovers are strange, demanding types.

a/n: idk man. but this revived my writing so. pls take it. dividers by @/cafekitsune

tags: messy dynamics, light smut/smut mentioned and implied, implied rough/hate sex, some hurt/comfort, ends on a hopeful note. not beta read/edited.

You've never liked Jayce much.

And you might just be the only person he doesn't like, either.

He plays nice, though, especially around Viktor. You think Jayce has teeth that he tries to hide, but you catch the flash of them from time to time. He smiles at you and it doesn't reach his eyes. It's just shy of contempt.

It makes your grin cheshire and sharp. You like watching him squirm. You like watching him wrestle with his distaste for you, try to keep his teeth hidden. Especially here, at this gala, all gold and sparkling and pristine, for all the world to see.

Bubbling rosé is bright and fruity on your tongue. You're shoulder to shoulder with Viktor, the two of you half-miserable together, stuffed into formal wear and ripped from your respective labs and studios. Which is why Jayce lingers; he's hovering in that annoying way of his. Bumbling a little. He's trying to make Viktor feel more at home but—

You have something Jayce doesn't.

Only you can do that.

You're Viktor's childhood friend, thick as thieves and twice as inseparable. You're an artist from the Undercity—a painter, a poet, a musician. An artistic genius, the world claims, an artistic savant. And one of the rare, lucky few who has been exalted and raised above your station to be paraded around Piltover like some trophy of success from their lowest. It's mostly Viktor's fault, you claim—the moment Heimerdinger found him, he also accidentally found you.

"Ah, if it isn't one of the most brilliant and groundbreaking artists of our generation." A smooth, easy voice floats through your thoughts. You turn your head to find Councilor Medarda, swathed in what could be a starry sky of silk and gold.

She's even more beautiful in person somehow; if you were to paint her, she'd be all easy, graceful lines, curved and long. A lily stem. The arch of a tiger.

"Just the person I was looking for." She muses.

"Me?" You balk, at the same time that Jayce gaps, "Them?!"

You swing your gaze to glare at him and even Viktor wrinkles his nose. Jayce tries to clear his throat, clear the mistake.

Councilor Medarda raises a brow at Jayce, but then her eyes flicker to you, honing in on you. Hazel and gold and reflective; a kaleidoscope of color. And with such—intensity. You feel it in her. Thrumming. "Yes, you." She says smoothly and she smiles in the elegant way of royalty; perfect and mysterious.

"Are you sure you have the right person, Councilor Medarda?" You joke, "you know I'm just—"

"I'm certain. And please—call me Mel. I'd love to commission you for several art pieces to be displayed in the council chambers."

Viktor whistles a little, impressed, though you can tell it's a little dry.

(He both rambles and rants about Councilor Medarda from time to time and you can never tell if he adores her or resents her.)

Jayce startles at this, but again, he tries to play it off. He places his hand on her lower back, "I didn't know the council chambers was looking to display art."

Mel allows his hand to remain, but she tilts her chin up and her eyes flash somewhat—quick, sharp. There's a silent conversation there that you can't decipher.

But you can tell there is something more than just coworkers happening between them.

"I'm looking to display art in the council chambers." Mel then says.

Jayce looks away, cowed somewhat, tail tucked between his legs in a way that makes you smile.

Mel drifts from Jayce's hands, offering her arm to you, "will you walk with me? I'd love to discuss what I have in mind."

If only to steal her away from Jayce, you finally peel yourself away from Viktor's side and the wall. Your shoulder, where it was touching his, goes cold. But Mel's arm is warm as you twine it around yours.

She draws you away from the scientists, into the fray of swirling, dazzling people.

You glance over your shoulder only once and catch Jayce's eyes, and let your smile curl into something a little smug, almost vicious; baring your teeth as if to gloat at his own, still tucked behind his lips.

***

"Mel's an artist." You say to Viktor, offhand. "A good one, too. You should see her paintings—"

Viktor sighs heavily, snatching one of the little tools that you'd been fiddling with out of your hands. "You sound like Jayce."

You wrinkle your face in disgust, reaching back for the tool and grappling with him a moment for it. You press all against each other, squabbling, before you win out and take it back from him. He stares at you, almost in some form of a glare and you stare back, watching his eyes, dark in the low light of the lab. He glances at the tool in your hands like he might try to take it back, and when he moves, you move faster, and hold it out of his reach.

"Are they together?" You ask.

He gives up on the tool.

Then, he lifts his shoulders in some form of a crooked shrug, eyes going skyward. "One can only assume."

"She's out of his league." You sigh, throwing your weight back in the chair in despair.

Viktor snorts at that, returning to his work, "I'm sure few are in league with Councilor Medarda."

His voice is dry. A little brittle.

"I don't know what you have against her." You then venture, speaking more to the ceiling, returning to fiddling with the tool. It twists in your fingers, the sound of metal whirling and softly grinding.

"I have nothing against Councilor Medarda." He says too evenly.

"You know, I've never been able to tell if it's contempt or adoration you have for her." You continue, as if he hadn't said anything to contradict you. "But either way, she gets under your skin."

"She does not—"

"Are you jealous? She took your big, dumb partner away?" You press, twisting and twisting away at the tool.

"No—" Viktor says sharply, but it rings with a note of truth. It's not quite that then.

You pause. And then.

You crack your eye open, "I think she likes me."

Viktor pauses now too, metal clinking quietly with the sudden stop of his work again. He knows that tone of your voice. His face pulls; distaste. Frustration.

(Jealousy.)

His speech is slow as he tries to parse through what to say, "Councilor Medarda is charming and—"

"She invited me to dinner." You say and now you're watching him carefully, "at her personal suite. Just us."

Viktor rounds on you, "you're going to get yourself into trouble."

You can't help but smile, slow and amused, "I feel like it's good for the art—fool around with a politician—"

"You know, I have always wondered if you would learn your lesson," Viktor continues over your monologuing about drama and passion and politics, "—maybe this time, you'll finally learn it."

He snatches the tool from your hands and throws it down on his desk.

"I love learning." You chirp innocently and he shakes his head, face flushed with passion.

He looks at you again when he can, shakes his head some more, some of the irritation fading from his features. He never stays mad at you for long; doesn't have it in him. Besides, he causes his own trouble. Doesn't learn his own lessons. And when the dust settles, the two of you are still here, beside each other. The artist and the scientist, making messes, breaking things—all for some higher purpose only the two of you have ever understood.

(You've loved him your whole life. Sometimes, you think you carry half of the other's ribs inside one another. He must have twelve of yours, and you must have twelve of his—)

You lift your foot, nudging his calf beneath the desk with it, then up to place it in his lap. An olive branch, of some kind. Your affection is unsurprising to him and he sighs. He drops his hand to your ankle. He squeezes.

"She's going to eat you alive." Viktor finally warns.

"One can only hope."

A laugh startles out of him, rough and raspy, before it dissolves into coughing.

You lurch up to give him water, sitting near you, and bring the glass to his lips on reflex, like you used to as children. And on reflex, he drinks—he doesn't try to take the glass from your hands right away or push you away. Instinctively, you care for him, and instinctively, he lets you.

(You think you're the only one he'd ever allow to do this, born out of years of pressed side to side in the same bed, listening to him weather the nights. Born out of years of your love and stubborn care for him.)

After a moment, he lifts his hand and slowly replaces yours.

You hover over him. He sets the glass down. The water is almost gone. You'll replace it for him before you leave the lab.

He settles back into his chair, eyes returning to the pieces in front of him; all the odd metal scattered like little silver stars in front of him against a vast, dark sky. He picks up one, and then another, and tries to fit them together.

Then another. And another.

You watch him twist and turn, put the puzzle together.

He says, "Lately, I feel as if—" his fingers are careful, almost shaking, as he tries to create something of the scattered, broken pieces, "everything is quite fragile. And it's all just going to—" he presses a little too hard, and the metal all splinters apart, clattering back to the desk, "break. At any given moment."

After a moment, he looks up at you, still hovering over him, "I fear you're heading towards a breaking point."

You hum a little.

"What is it you scientists say?" You ask, running your fingers through his dark hair, thick and tousled. You twirl a strand around your finger, let it fall;

"It has to break first, before you can discover anything."

***

You'd say Mel Medarda is a wolf in sheep's clothing, but she doesn't feign anything so harmless or lost as a sheep.

You do think she's—

A little like Jayce, where she hides her teeth. But where Jayce irritates you because he's certainly trying to seem better than he is, or more harmless than he can be, Mel does so with intention. Mel hides her teeth to lure you closer. She doesn't pretend she doesn't have them; she waits until you're in range before you catch a glimpse of them.

And by then, well. It's too late.

You realize this over dinner, as she laments about what art she'd like from you and she's adamant about not censoring you.

(You're known for you controversy; whether in your physical art, your poetry, or music. Once pulled to the light of the Upper City, you refused to let them defang you. Where Jayce pretends he doesn't have teeth, you bare yours proudly, and sometimes wish you could tear the tender parts of Piltover open.

You strive to do it with your art. And while applauded in some vague capacity, you are also kept on a tight leash. Your patrons are warily supportive of you. Your commissions are strict. You're treated the way you think a wild animal is; with utmost care and fear and awe.)

In fact, her only rule for you, is to not hold back.

Which, given the growing tension between the Upper and Lower Cities, you realize this cannot only be from the goodness of her heart or for the integrity of art but—

You tilt your head and consider her.

"Am I a political move, Mel?"

She smiles in that enigmatic way of hers, her teeth flash, "isn't all art?"

You narrow your eyes, "perhaps. I wonder of it's effectiveness when it's employed by the people it often critiques." You lift your chin and pretend to be hurt—or perhaps, mask your hurt within dramatics to make it seem ironic, "and here I thought you really liked me—"

"I do." Mel assures, "I've admired you a great deal from afar. And getting to know you, your mind, it's—" she considers her words, "it's been nothing short of mesmerizing. Astonishing."

She sounds sincere. But you wonder if she always sounds that way.

She can tell she hasn't convinced you because you've never been able to mask your emotions well, so she leans forward and says, "unfortunately, everything I do is a political move, whether I'd like it to be or not. Both can be true—" she says, "I can adore you. And I can also need you to make a public point, wield you like my own elegant weapon."

"Artists make for disobedient weapons, usually." You say.

She laughs a little at that and agrees, "True." And then she lowers her voice, looks at you through the fan of her dark lashes in such a way that seizes you—arrests you, holds you right there, caught, in her heady gaze;

"But I don't need you to be obedient."

"I can never tell if you're trying to seduce me or persuade me." You blurt out, the words running from your mouth like a rabbit from a wolf. Your desire bursts from you like frightened birds taking to flight, like most of what you feel does, all of it spilling out of you in a gush of rawness.

She stands gracefully and again, you think of how you'd draw her—how you'd capture her in a poem or a song. The sharp curve of her waist, the predatory grace she carries effortlessly. You think her song is a croon from the deep part of your chest. You think her poem looks like an hourglass on the page and she slips from your fingers as easy as time does, too.

She rounds the small table to your side.

You look up at her. Your heart kicks up into a quick dance.

She brings the back of her knuckle to your jaw and gently—with all the carefulness in the world, strokes you.

(She touches you the way one does a bird, as if they know it's fragile. Perhaps as if they know it might fly away.

Or maybe she touches you the way one does an animal they're not sure of; will you bite? Will you lean into the touch?)

"Both can be true." She finally answers.

When she kisses you, it's fiercer than you're expecting; a lightning strike, a blow to the heart.

Your teeth come up against hers.

She gasps when you drag her further down to you, greedier than she's ever known, meeting her fierceness with your own, like the clashing of blades, or the destruction of stars.

And you think, if you don't want obedience, then I'll show you.

I'll show you.

***

"What are you playing at?"

Jayce's voice is a vicious little hush in the caverns of the council chambers. Mel has just left you after peaking over your shoulder to view the preliminary sketches.

You lift your head and blink up at Jayce slowly, dragging yourself from your sketch; from your world of art.

(It sets his teeth to grinding because Viktor makes that same look, when he's so deep into his work and Jayce disturbs him. It's a face he finds endearing on both of you, unfortunately. He imagines your minds are in heaven and he's selfish enough to drag you both back down to earth.)

"What do you mean? For the art piece?" You ask, glancing down at your lap, at the series of gestures and lines that you've been lost in. Maybe you're feigning innocence a little. But you want him to say it, if he's going to pick this fight.

Jayce's eyes flash like the too-hot part of the flame.

You have to bite back a smile.

Come on, you think wildly, say it. Let's fight. Here in the chambers, where you try so hard to be their golden boy.

"What are you trying to get out of Mel?" He asks and it makes you laugh outright, because he's dancing around what he really wants to ask.

Your laugh echoes in the hall, bouncing off all this marble and gold. It's out of place here, too loud, too free.

"The better question is what she's trying to get out of me." You say, "do you think I have it in me to manipulate the Mel Medarda?"

He goes quiet at that.

"Are you doing this to get back at me?" He asks after a moment and it's so close to what he wants to ask, so close to what he really wants to talk about.

"She kissed me first." You answer. "Have you had this conversation with her?"

You can tell by the shadow of uncertainty that passes over his face that he hasn't. You stand, easily setting your sketches and pencils aside, and drift nearer to him.

"Oh," you hum, "you didn't know. She didn't mention some plan of seduction to you? Maybe she really does like me."

He rounds on you so sharply that you are genuinely surprised. You gasp when your back hits the wall and he's got you caged in, a snarl on his lips and you finally get to see those teeth of his—

"You just always have to push me, don't you? In all the years I've known you, you've only ever tried to get under my skin. I tried so hard, for so long, for Viktor's sake to get along with you." He says lowly and distantly, you think, does he cage in Mel like this? With his big arms and broad chest? Or does she have him on a tight leash, underneath her?

"This time, I didn't mean it. Surely, you understand—" you say slyly, "when she comes onto you like that, all honey-voiced and half-lidded. She's hard to resist, isn't she?"

The grip he has on your biceps tightens to a point of pain—he'll bruise you. You'll be tender there, where his big hands gripped you, and it only makes you smile.

"Stop it." He snaps.

But you can't help yourself now, because once you've got something between your teeth, you've never been able to let it go;

"I just want to know if she kisses me the same way she kisses you? Does she play nice with you? She's quite fierce with me—"

When Jayce kisses you, it's a crush of aggression.

You laugh into his mouth wildly as he shoves you harder against the wall, teeth mean in the tender part of your bottom lip so that your laughter melts into a groan of pain. Of pleasure.

You claw at his back and wonder if Mel does, too.

You fight and hiss and snarl, show him your teeth when he sinks his into the fluttering pulse at your throat. You try to draw blood. You think he tries to bruise.

And well, you always wanted to see his teeth—

Just never thought you'd end up with a ring of their mark on your neck.

***

You're not really sleeping—nights are long. Days are longer. You're in the studio too much. This art piece is strangling you, wrestling with you and you're losing. Your lovers are strange, demanding types. Jayce comes to you at his lowest, and Mel at her highest. She licks the wounds Jayce leaves on you, purrs about how good you're being for her, goads you into putting up more of a fight that she likes to quell. She asks, have I stolen your bite? Are you going soft on me? Until you try to wrestle with her, too.

Mel subdues you the way snakes do—constricts and tightens and puts all that pressure on you until you just burst.

Until you go slack in her grip.

Jayce takes his anger out on you and he's not so cunning or delicate as her. You think Jayce struggles with you the way he must with his hammers, with high heat and all his strength.

Your art is starting to look like pieces of them; brutal and brilliant and cunning and beautiful. Tricky to capture, even more difficult to mesh together.

You're covered in paint when Viktor comes to visit you, frustrated with the canvas in front of you, which you think you'll end up scrapping again.

(This is the fourth one. You've been trying to fit all the components and pieces together but none of it's working, all of it's a mess. Splintered apart on the canvas. It looks like a disaster on the page.)

"Have you eaten?" Viktor asks as he comes to stand behind you. He gazes at the canvas n front of you.

You sigh heavily. "Have you?" You return.

He snorts at that, "No. I'm coming from the lab and thought I'd check on you—Mel mentioned you were here."

He pauses and then, "that you'd been here. For awhile now."

You hear the layers in his voice; the worry, but then the—

Irritation? Disdain?

"Are you asking me to dinner?" You say instead, dashing the canvas with a sudden great, horrible X. It's your meager attempt at some sort of joke or flirting, but your voice is perhaps too thin for it. You stare at your canvas, now dripping with that great X, the paint slipping down and marring it further.

When you turn to look at Viktor, he regards you warily. He glances at the canvas you've just ruined, and then back to your face.

He takes in your appearance; your disheveled hair and the paint all over your clothes and skin. And then his eyes skip down to your throat, to your arms. All marked up and bruised, unhidden and worn proudly here, in the safety of your art studio.

"Should I be concerned?" Viktor asks instead and you've always loved his bluntness. His lack of tact is like coming home. It's a relief, when you're constantly with Mel and Jayce lately, who talk in riddles and niceties and flowered language that hides their intentions or feelings.

There is a bitterness in Viktor's voice that you know well, too.

"About?" You prod.

"I'm no fool." Viktor answers, "I know you're sleeping with Councilor Medarda."

"Is that all you know?" You return, tilting your head.

"Is there more to know?" Viktor asks, eyeing you.

"Jayce hasn't said anything?"

You watch a strange shadow pass over Viktor's face as he slowly comes to the natural conclusion that you've lead him to. He's right, he is no fool. And then you watch his eyes catch fire, catch jealousy.

"I warned you—" he starts, suddenly.

"And I told you, it's good for the art—" You joke.

"Obviously it isn't!" He snaps, gesturing to the canvas behind you, ruined and glaring at your back. And then he heaves out a rough, agitated breath, dragging a hand through his hair. "Do you ever think of consequences?" He demands.

"Sure," You say, "I'm exactly where I want to be."

"You know, they are my colleagues. What am I supposed to do if—?!"

You laugh at that, enough that it startles him out of his beginning tirade. He comes up short and his shoulders bunch with tension as he glares at you.

"Is something funny?" He hisses.

"Your colleagues?" You repeat, "that's all they are to you?"

"Well—yes, technically." He stumbles on his words here.

"Are you jealous, Viktor?" You ask. "You don't have to be."

"I'm not jealous—" He refutes, even as his cheeks grow ruddy. And for a moment, you could be twelve with him again, his face flush as he looks at you after you'd kissed him for the first time because he'd never kissed anyone before. Or twenty-two and drunk, kissing one night under the stars when you felt so lost and disorientated in the Upper City—just wanted to feel like yourself again.

Or now, at thirty-two, staring at the man you've loved your entire life and whatever mess you've made out of everything.

You reach out and touch his cheek, glowing with color, and at first he winces away, but when you persist, he relaxes. He presses his cheek to your open palm and looks at you; raw and frank and so Viktor that you can't help the faint smile that touches your lips. Even as he frowns at you.

"What are you meddling with?" Viktor murmurs, turning his face into your cupped hand. You feel the faint brush of his lips, a little dry, and soft. Warm.

"Apparently our political landscape." You respond and that at least gets a laugh from him. You feel it against you and some spark shimmers through you, shudders and opens itself to you.

(Your desire for Viktor is something always with you, ambient, perhaps dormant, that always resurfaces like the great fins of some horrible, huge monster in dark waters. Your desire for Viktor is a symptom of your love. You've never know what to call it except that, except his.)

"Have I upset you?" You ask now as his laughter fades, and with it his amusement.

He sighs deeply and you feel his breath against your skin. You draw nearer. He leans back onto his crutch only slightly, only for a moment, before he allows you further into his space.

"I don't—" He struggles for the words before admitting, "yes, somewhat. For some reason."

"Are you feeling neglected?" You ask and try very hard to keep your amusement out of your voice, lest you irritate him further. He's always had a jealous streak in him, even as kids. If you made another friend, he would pout until you draped yourself over him and showered him in your attention again.

Even your previous relationships had bred some sort of jealousy in him; he's never liked any of your partners.

(It's so endearing to you that you have to tuck your teeth into your own lip and hum a little.)

You lean towards him, ducking your head so that your nose dips to brush against the line of his jaw. You feel his body shudder more than you see it. His breath goes tight. Your eyes flicker, a flash in the sun-spun light of your art studio;

"Do you want me to kiss you the way Jayce kisses me?" You murmur, your lips hovering over his. You watch his face gutter, lashes fluttering against his cheeks. His breath goes shallow.

"Or would you prefer Mel?" You murmur, just before you close the distance and kiss him with a certain fierceness, a meanness that you don't usually have with him. He stumbles back a little with the force of it and your hand that had been holding his cheek, slips into the hair at the nape of his neck.

A groan startles out of him when you tighten your hand into a fist and pull.

You part from the kiss, panting a little, and he looks down at you, eyes molten gold and burning.

You're about to kiss him again, when he murmurs, "I want—" he swallows hard, "I want you to kiss me the way you do—I want—"

You press back into him instantly, suddenly overwhelmed with the thought, with the notion that his desire, his jealousy—

You kiss him like you always have, overeager and desperate and messy. You urge him backwards, towards your workbench, all cluttered with paints. His crutch clatters against the ground uselessly as you grab for each other. You knock over a jar of brushes half-haphazardly placed on the floor.

You're overwhelmed with the thought that his jealousy might've been for you, too.

When he braces his hand against your work bench, he knocks over a cup of paint. You laugh into his mouth as you paw at his stupid, perfectly buttoned vest. When he touches you again, he stains you blue—and later red and violet. Burnished gold and paint so silver it makes the stars look dull.

A mess, he tsks, impossibly fond, as he looks at you and himself and the work space.

At all that you'd done.

***

"You've been pulling strings," Mel says as you lay in her lap, letting her pet and stroke you. Her fingers dance over the ridge of your brow.

You blink up at her slowly, eyes fluttering. "Shouldn't that be my line?" You ask.

"I'm not naive to the way you've been pulling our strings." She muses, fingers tumbling into your hair. She's gentle here, careful as she cards her way through your hair, her fingers nimble.

"Pulling strings is a far too sophisticated thing to call it." You snort and lean into her touch like a cat, preening a little.

"What would you call it?" Mel asks and the smile she wears is less of a mystery to you now, and you can tell there's a fondness to it.

(She does really like you—she is really being sincere, you've learned.)

You think about this for a long moment; you toy with saying a fucking mess. Or digging my own grave. But neither feel quite so full—while true, in many ways, there leaves little room for—

Well, this.

The way she holds you. The cat's curl of her smile, pleased and mischievous. Her fingers, gentle and coaxing, urging you to unfurl and bloom.

Or Viktor's rasping laugh that you can pull out of him. The fondness you hold for him like a pearl held inside a clam, growing and glowing. The way you drape yourself all over him, and he accepts it as easy as the day accepts the sun, or the night accepts the moon into its skies.

And even Jayce and the strangled back-and-forth that the two of you dance; it's still yours. It's still his. And the way he cups your cheek admist the violence or how he let's no one speak ill of you in front of him.

(Or the way Jayce and Viktor's minds work together, or how tactical Jayce and Mel can be; sharpened like daggers and twice as pretty. Or the creativity you pull out of Mel, allowing her to see the world like a boundless piece of art. Or the way Viktor's science influences your art; how your art influences his science. The fierceness you bring out in Jayce—the passion he brings out in you.)

It doesn't quite account for all the parts that make you burn and grow and shake out your great, big wings to fly.

Finally, you say, "it feels like I'm trying to find the melodies and harmonies and how they mesh—or the composition of a painting, or the feeling of a poem, but some of the words are still missing. It feels like when I chase art and try to break it open, to reveal what it wants me to learn—or show me."

"Have you figured it out yet?" She asks and she's genuinely curious, almost quiet in her desire to know.

At that, the door creaks open and there are several hushed whispers before Jayce suddenly strides into the room with all the false confidence in the world. Viktor looks sheepish behind him.

You sit up sharply, trying to detangle yourself from Mel.

"I told you they were here—" Viktor hisses to him, "and we shouldn't—we shouldn't be here."

Jayce isn't listening, though, and he's clearly inflating himself to get out, "I've come on important business of the council."

Mel raises her brows and throws you a sideways glance. She then says, "then come in, Councilor, since it's so important that you've come to my personal quarters. Unannounced."

Jayce at least has the good sense to look a little sheepish now, too. You can't help the laugh that springs out of you.

He throws you a dark look before clearing his throat.

"Councilor Haskel and Salo are seeking to strike down the art deal." Jayce announces and your heart drops a little, sinks in your chest.

You look at Mel. She purposefully keeps her face a mask of coolness. She rolls her shoulder briefly, which is your only tell of irritation or concern.

"Come in, Jayce." Mel finally says, "and you, too, Viktor. Shut the door behind you."

Both wander into the space and it's such a surreal moment, all four of you, for once, in the same room, that you can't help but laugh again.

Mel sighs in a way as if to say, I suppose this would happen eventually.

Jayce and Viktor can't quite look anyone in the eye and they both take uneasy seats int he living room.

Again, you feel like laughing—you're not sure what all the trepidation is for. Each of them have you seen you naked; you have seen them naked.

"What's their angle?" Mel asks, ignoring both Jayce and Viktor's shyness.

Jayce clears his throat, "they don't think it's worthwhile to support an artist from the Undercity at this time."

You wince and Jayce adds, "their words, not mine."

"Well, that won't do." Mel tsks and she suddenly moves to stand, graceful as ever, her robes trailing in a wave of silk and the smell of lillies. She likes to pace when she's thinking, and she pads over the window, to look out at the city.

Eventually, she says, "we'll need a grander plan. Something they can't refuse."

"What are you thinking?" Jayce asks.

She turns and all around her, she's doused in gold light, glowing in the evening sun as if she was born to it. "Perhaps combining some science with it." Now she looks at Viktor, "something symbolic to the current advancements with Hextech, perhaps."

Viktor looks at you, then back at Mel, "I can do that."

"Jayce, I need you to talk to the other Councilors and be sure they're not swayed by Haskel or Salo." She then adds, "and I want more publicity around it—and around our artist and scientist."

Our artist.

Our scientist.

"Ah—" Viktor starts, "I don't want to be in the public eye."

Our, our, our.

"It'll put pressure on Haskel and Salo if the people are behind you both, too." Mel presses gently, though her gaze has softened on him; she's sympathetic to his desires.

To assure him, you chirp, "I can do all the talking."

"Not sure that's our best idea." Jayce remarks.

"I am certain I can name several worse ideas of ours." You quip without thinking, and then you toss one of Mel's throw pillows at him; the beautifully embroidered one that's likely far too expensive and made from the rarest threads.

It hits him with a dull thud. And for a moment, he's shocked. The room is silent.

Still, your heart sings our, our, our.

But then Viktor snorts, before breaking out into his low, soft chuckle. And then the twinkle of Mel's giggles, coupled with your own laughter that bursts from your chest like a bird taking to flight.

And Jayce watches a moment, all of you laugh and smile, and if you could paint him in this moment, you would—

A little awe-struck. Tender around the edges, burnished gold. Breath stolen from him.

(Oh, he does really like you, too. All of you.)

But then laughter rumbles from him, too. And the tension slips from all of you, drains from your bodies with each bubbling sound.

And all of them together—finally together—are the melody you've been looking for, the words you couldn't place. The color on the canvas that finally brings it all together.

It's all the broken pieces like a mosaic, finally put together to create something whole.

And it's all ours, you think, the sun a flare of light and beauty bursting through the room, bathing all of your favorite people in it's gold and glory;

It's all ours.

[zerun0]

"Take My Hand" — Viktor x Y/N (Female)

English is not my first language. Feel free to comment on any of my mistakes and i will update the post, also I am more than happy to receive suggestions, and advice on how to improve my work.

— ! WARNING NSFW(+18): ! — Sexual themes, Alternate reality, Dancing, Drunk , Sex, Flirting, Making out, Teasing, Vaginal.

— Word count: — 3.0k (Full uncut version on AO3)

The streets of Zaun buzzed with a unique energy that night. At Heimerdinger’s Zaunite academy, the halls that usually hummed with the clatter of experiment trays and whirring mechanisms were abandoned. Students and teachers alike had migrated to the glowing venue lit by an array of green and blue chem-lights. They swayed to music that rattled through makeshift speakers.

Y/N stood by the edge of the crowd, leaning against a post with her hands fidgeting at the hem of her simple, black dress. She had spent the better part of the evening people-watching. Powder and Ekko spun together in the center of the dance floor.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” — came a familiar, soft-spoken voice from beside her.

Y/N turned to find Viktor standing there, an almost shy tilt to his smile. He was dressed a little neater than his usual grease-smeared lab coat, though his cane and posture still set him apart from the crowd. A lock of brown hair fell across his forehead, and his golden eyes shone in the shifting light.

“I could ask you the same thing,” — Y/N teased, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m observing,” — he replied, slipping into his characteristic thoughtful tone. — “There’s... a beauty in the chaos. Don’t you think so?” Y/N chuckled. — “That’s one way to look at it. Though I think most people would call it a party.”

“And yet, you’re here, on the outskirts. Much like me.” — Viktor said softly, now closer to her ear. Her smile softened at his perceptive words.

Viktor always saw through the surface, always seemed to understand her in ways few others did. He had become more than a lab partner during their time at the academy. He was a confidant, an intellectual equal, and perhaps something more.

Before she could respond, Powder’s laughter erupted again, louder this time, drawing their attention. Ekko had twirled her, sending her braids flying as she stumbled with giddy delight. The scene pulled a smile from Y/N, and even Viktor’s lips quirked upward.

“You know,” — Y/N said, her voice gaining a teasing edge, — “if we’re going to stay here analyzing the ‘beauty of the chaos,’ we might as well join in.”

Viktor’s golden gaze met hers, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his expression. —“Dancing was never a skill I cultivated.”

“It’s not about skill,” — Y/N replied, holding out a hand. — “Come on, I will guide you…”

He hesitated only a moment before placing his hand in hers. His grip was warm and slightly calloused, a reminder of hours spent tinkering in the lab. She led him to the edge of the dance floor, where they found a pocket of space just big enough for the two of them. The music was slower now, a dreamy, lilting melody that seemed to wrap around them.

Their movements were awkward at first. Viktor shifted his weight uncertainty, his cane tapping against the floor in a hesitant rhythm as he tried to find his footing. Y/N, attuned to his unease, kept her movements slow and deliberate, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder to guide him without imposing. Her other hand held his gently, touch warm and steady, like a lifeline.

“It’s just us,” — she said happily, her voice barely audible above the music. — “No one’s watching.”

Viktor glanced down at her, his golden eyes searching her face for reassurance. He exhaled slowly, nodding, and allowed himself to relax just a fraction. Y/N adjusted her position slightly, mindful of the weight he shifted onto his cane. She kept their steps simple, matching his pace and making sure to move with him rather than against him.

It wasn’t long before they found a rhythm, a tentative, almost fragile harmony at first, but one that grew stronger with each passing moment. Viktor followed her lead with quiet determination, his steps gaining confidence as the music wrapped around them. Y/N’s movements remained fluid and patient, every motion imbued with a tenderness that spoke of her deep care for him.

She offered a small, encouraging smile, and Viktor returned it, his golden eyes bright as the prettiest constellation in the night sky, a soft laugh escaping him. — “You’re remarkably good at this,” he admitted, voice tinged with both admiration and surprise.

“Good at what?” — she teased, her gaze twinkling. — “Dancing? Or making sure you don’t trip?”

“Both,” — he said, his tone warm and self-deprecating.

Y/N laughed, her fingers briefly tightening around his hand. — “You’re doing great, Viktor. Better than you think.”

They continued to sway, their movements becoming more natural as they settled into the music. The chem-lights around them painted their faces in shifting shades of blue and green, lending the moment an almost dreamlike quality. Y/N’s attention remained pointedly on him, her every step and shift an unspoken promise to keep him steady, to make this moment as effortless for him as possible.

And somewhere amidst the rhythm of their shared steps, Viktor let go of his apprehension, his focus shifting entirely to her. The world around them blurred, the thrumming bass and laughter

of the crowd fading into the background. In that moment, there was only Y/N. Her gentle smile, her steady guidance, and the warmth of her hand in his.

The song ended, and the crowd cheered, but Y/N barely noticed. Viktor leaned closer, his voice low. — “Would you like some air? This place is... quite warm.”

She nodded, suddenly aware of the heat rising in her cheeks. — “Yeah. Let’s go.”

They stepped out into the cool Zaunite night, where the hum of the city was a softer echo of the celebration inside. Viktor led her to a quiet alley, where the faint glow of the lights still painted the walls in hues of green and blue. Turning towards her, his expression was more serious now, though his gaze held that same warmth she’d come to cherish.

“You’re incredible, you know,” — he said softly, the words tumbling out like they had been waiting for this moment. — “Not just in the lab. The way you see the world, the way you make it brighter. I... I admire you more than I can put into words.”

Y/N’s breath hitched. She stepped closer, her heart pounding in her chest. — “Viktor...”

He closed the distance between them, his movements hesitant, as though afraid he might break the moment. When their lips met, it was soft and tentative.

Viktor’s fingers brushed her cheek timid but deliberate, his thumb tracing the faint curve of her jaw. — “You’re... mesmerizing,” — he murmured, his voice low and rough, like a secret meant only for her.

Her breath caught at the raw honesty in his tone. Without thinking, she closed the small gap between them again, her lips meeting his in a kiss that was deeper, more insistent than before. Viktor hesitated for a fraction of a second before leaning into her, his hand sliding into her hair as he returned her fervor.

The kiss intensified, and Y/N pressed closer, her fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt. She could feel the faint tremor in his touch, the careful control he always carried giving way to something more passionate. His cane slipped slightly as he adjusted his stance, and Y/N instinctively steadied him, hands gripping his waist as if anchoring him to her. “Sorry,” — he murmured against her lips, a faint chuckle escaping him.

“Don’t be,” — she whispered, her voice soft yet firm. —“I’ve got you.” Her reassurance seemed to embolden him. Viktor’s free arm slipped around her back, drawing her flush against him. The cool night air was a sharp contrast to the heat blooming between them, their breaths mingling in the narrow space they left between kisses. Their foreheads touched as a faint cheer erupted from the party nearby, reminding them of where they were.

“I believe we might be missed,” — he murmured, brushing a strand of her hair back.

Y/N grinned, her lips still tingling. — “Then we should make an appearance, shouldn’t we?”

With a nod, Viktor stepped back, and together they returned to the party. The music had shifted to a livelier tune, Powder and Ekko still at the center of it all, their laughter echoing above the beat. Y/N and Viktor wove through the crowd, the vivid energy brushing past them as they made their way to the bar set up in one corner of the room.

The bartender, a Zaunite teen you had meet in the academy as he studied mixology, you knew him for his friendly grin and a knack for mixing drinks. — “What’ll it be?”— The young man asked. “Something simple,” — Y/N said with a smile, glancing at Viktor —“Two ales?”

Viktor nodded, his lips curving into a small smile. — “Up to you.”

Two mugs of amber ale were slid across the counter. Y/N picked hers up, taking a long sip, the slightly bitter, malty flavor a welcome contrast to the sugary concoctions often found at parties like this. Viktor took a more measured sip, his expression thoughtful as he savored the drink.

“It’s good,” — he said, sounding almost surprised.

“Told you,” — Y/N replied, nudging her shoulder with his.

They found a quieter spot near the edge of the crowd, their shoulders brushing as they watched the festivities. Powder had dragged Ekko into another wild spin, her energy uncontainable, while others clapped and cheered them on, even the professor was there having a blast watching his young brilliant inventors.

“It’s nice,” — Y/N said after a moment, her voice softer. — “Seeing everyone like this. Happy, carefree for a change.”

Viktor nodded, though his gaze was fixed on her rather than the crowd. — “It is. Though I admit, I find the quieter moments more... meaningful.”

She looked up at him, catching the warmth in his eyes, and felt her cheeks flush. —“Me too,” — she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The warmth of the ale in her chest mixed with the gentle buzz of his presence beside her. After a moment, she tilted her head toward him, a playful smile curving her lips. — “What do you say we finish these and find somewhere quieter?”

He raised an eyebrow. — “Are you suggesting an escape?”

“Maybe” ——

The door creaked open, a loud bang echoing through the halls.

The small room was dimly lit, a single lamp casting a soft yellow glow over the cluttered desk and neatly made bed. Then it clicked shut behind them, as the air between them shifted, the lingering alcohol stripping away the last of their hesitations.

Y/N turned to Viktor, her back against the door. — “Finally,” — she breathed, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Their lips met again, and this time there was no hesitation, no careful deliberation. The kiss was deep and unrestrained, their pent-up longing spilling over as their hands roamed freely. Y/N’s fingers found the buttons of his shirt, fumbling slightly as she worked to undo them. Viktor’s hands slid down her sides, his touch firm yet reverent, as though he couldn’t believe she was truly here with him.

His shirt fell open, revealing the lean lines of his torso, and Y/N’s hands traced the contours of his skin, her touch igniting a fire wherever it landed. Viktor let out a soft groan, his head dipping to press kisses along her jaw and down the column of her neck. Her breath hitched as his lips found a sensitive spot, and she tilted her head to give him better access.

Her own dress was next, the fabric slipping from her shoulders and pooling at her feet. Viktor’s golden eyes roamed over her, his breath catching as he took her in.

Y/N tugged him closer, her lips finding his again as they stumbled toward the bed. They fell onto the mattress in a tangle of limbs, their kisses growing hungrier, more urgent.

Her response was a soft gasp as his hand found her bare thigh, his touch firm yet careful, as though he was savoring every moment. She pushed herself up slightly, her eyes meeting his as she began to undo the belt of his trousers. He stilled for a moment, watching her with a mixture of awe and vulnerability, before his hands came up to cover hers, guiding her movements.

They worked together to shed the rest of their clothes, their touches growing bolder, their kisses more demanding as each layer was discarded. When they were finally skin to skin, Viktor hesitated, his golden eyes searching hers.

Y/N cupped his face, her thumb brushing over his cheekbone. — “I’ve never been more sure of anything,” — she whispered back, her voice steady and filled with conviction.

He allowed himself a genuine smile that melted her heart, before leaning down to kiss her again.

Viktor’s hand slid down to the curve of your thigh, lifting it gently to wrap around his waist. His other hand steadied himself as he shifted his weight, positioning himself between her legs. The heat of him made her breath hitch, silently urging him closer.

“Plea-ase,” — she whispered, your voice breathy, laced with longing.

Viktor’s control snapped. He pushed forward with a deliberate, smooth motion, the head of his length pressing into her, filling her inch by inch. The stretch of him sent a sharp thrill through her, her body arching instinctively to meet his. A soft gasp escaped both of them as he fully seated himself inside her, his forehead coming to rest against hers.

“You don’t have to be gentle…” — she murmured. — "I like it as rough as you can be..."

"O-Ok" — Viktor groaned low in his throat, his hands gripping her waist as he began to move. His thrusts started slow, deliberate, each one igniting a spark that built into a flame. The rhythm of his hips soon grew more urgent, matching the way her body responded to him, her moans filling the air between them. — “Y/N,” — he whispered, his voice strained with effort and desire.

He pressed kisses along her neck, his lips lingering at her pulse point, where her racing heartbeat betrayed her pleasure.

She ran her fingers along his back, her nails grazing his skin as his movements became deeper, more insistent. His cane clattered to the floor, forgotten, as his focus remained solely on her.

The world around them disappeared, leaving only the two of them locked in a shared rhythm. Viktor’s lips found hers again in a kiss that was messy and desperate, their bodies moving in perfect sync. His thrusts grew harder, faster, her moans mingling with his as the tension inside her built to a breaking point.

When his hand slipped between their bodies, his fingers finding the sensitive bundle of nerves at her core, she cried out his name. The pleasure overwhelmed her, her body trembling as waves of ecstasy crashed over.

His movements faltered, his body tensing as he groaned her name in return. His release followed, his hips jerking as he spilled into her, the heat of him filling her completely. He buried his face against her shoulder, his breaths ragged as the two of them trembled in the aftermath, still entwined.

The room was quiet now, save for the sound of their breathing and the distant hum of the city beyond. Viktor lifted his head, his golden eyes soft as they met hers. His hand brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his touch lingering.

The afterglow wrapped them in a warm, quiet cocoon, the kind where the world outside ceased to exist. Viktor rolled onto his side, pulling Y/N with him beneath the blanket they had hastily tugged up to cover their bare bodies. The fabric was soft and warm, a barrier between them and the cool air of the room.

Her body molded perfectly against his, skin to skin, their breaths slowing as the tension faded into a deep, shared comfort. Y/N traced idle circles on his chest with her fingertips, her touch light and soothing. Viktor hummed at the sensation, his arms wrapped securely around her, anchoring them both in this fragile, intimate moment.

“Tonight was … incredible, you truly are one of a kind,” — she whispered, her voice soft but filled with emotion.

His lips pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, his golden eyes heavy-lidded but adoring as they met hers. — “And you,” — he murmured, his tone carrying a mix of awe and gratitude, — “you’ve made me feel... whole.”

She smiled, nuzzling into his chest. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, neither needing to speak, simply content in each other’s presence.

Then, a soft, scrabbling noise broke the silence. Y/N stiffened for a moment before a chuckle bubbled up in her throat.

“Oh no,” — she said, her voice filled with amusement.

Before Viktor could ask, a small, fuzzy creature leaped up onto the bed. Her poro, a round, fluffy ball of enthusiasm, bounded over the blanket and started sniffing curiously at the new presence.

“Is this...?” —Viktor began, but he didn’t get to finish. The poro, clearly delighted, jumped onto Viktor’s chest and started licking his face with unrestrained enthusiasm.

“Ah! Hey !” — he exclaimed, laughing as the poro’s tiny tongue covered his cheek. He tried to fend it off with one hand while keeping the blanket modestly draped with the other.

Y/N couldn’t stop laughing, tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she watched the usually composed Viktor flail under the tiny, relentless attacker. — “I think she likes you,” —she teased, reaching out to scoop the poro up. The creature chirped happily, snuggling into her arms but keeping its bright, beady eyes fixed on Viktor, as though sizing him up for future antics.

Viktor wiped his face with the edge of the blanket, his laughter subsiding into a soft smile. — “I’m glad to have made such an impression,” —he said dryly, though the warmth in his gaze betrayed how much he enjoyed the moment.

Y/N leaned in to kiss his cheek, her lips brushing the spot where the poro had been. — “She knows a good one when she sees it,” — she whispered, her voice tender.

The poro settled between them as if declaring itself part of their little haven, its contented purring filling the room.

“Barely a moment’s peace,” — he joked, though his tone was light and filled with affection.

Y/N grinned, resting her head against his shoulder. — “Wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

[xetlynn]

Arcane Imagines- Viktor

Nosy Coworkers

[arcane] [main page]

Prompt: this is a modern au where the characters are high school teachers. You and Viktor have been dating for 7 months and haven’t told anyone. Jayce and Vi are just now putting things together and decide to spy on you two to see if they’re correct. (GN reader, no pronouns used.)

“You want to use your lunch time to spy on our colleagues because you two have a hunch that they’re dating?” Mel asks with a raised brow beside Caitlyn that laid the same confused expression. “Well I just don’t understand why they’d hide it if they are!” Jayce exclaims, leaning against his desk. “Maybe because of this exact reaction?” The dark blue-haired woman rolls her eyes. 

Violet scoffs at her wife, standing up. “Or maybe they want us to figure it out on our own. Like a test of our intelligence. You guys know how Viktor is with his… love for.. Um- You know what I’m talking about.” She stammers, eyeing her friend to back her up. Jayce nods his head but is quickly interrupted by the two girls disagreeing. 

“Vi, I love you but this is childish even for the both of you.” Caitlyn sighs out, pinching the bridge of her nose. “What’s childish?” A voice pierces the room, startling the four. They looked to the doorway to see you standing there with a lopsided grin. 

Jayce and Violet sweat at the sight of you, looking back to their partners with fear in their eyes. Mel presses her lips together attempting not to laugh. “These two had some bright idea to convince the principal to let teachers wear pajamas to work whenever we want to.” Caitlyn lies straight through her teeth. Even though it was a stupid lie, somehow you didn’t question. Just letting out a quiet chuckle at what you were told. 

Jayce and Vi’s shoulders drop in relief. “I wouldn’t mind it if Principal Heimerdinger did allow that but you’d also have to argue with Vice Hoskel. Doubt that will go well.” You grimace, remembering the last time you tried speaking with that man about getting ink for the printer. 

“Jayce, here are those pencils you needed, by the way.” You drop three packs of the wooden sticks upon his unorganized desk.

“Thanks, [Name]. You’re the best. As usual. So smart… funny… Any guy would be lucky to be with you!” He nudges your arm with a bit too much enthusiasm. You furrow your eyebrows, glancing at Mel who hides her face in her hands and shaking her head. Caitlyn bites the inside of her cheeks. “Uh, ha ha… Yeah I guess so.” You rub the back of your neck. Violet was even surprised at her best friend’s stupidity. 

“I’m um I have somewhere to be for lunch.” You clear your throat, excusing yourself rather abruptly. Not knowing what else to do. The three girls burst into laughter once you're out of earshot. “Dude!! That was rough!” Violet slaps Jayce’s back who was mentally cursing at himself for what he just said to his supposed coworker's partner… who was also his coworker. 

You sat alongside your boyfriend of 7 months at your usual cafe. Coming here frequently for lunch dates. Your hand held his as you took a bite of your sandwich. Viktor was looking over his upcoming units, figuring out the next works for his students. 

“Mm, Jayce said something really weird!” You speak up, cutting the comfortable silence. Viktor hums in response, taking his attention away from his papers to you. He momentarily takes his hand from yours to wipe the aioli from your sandwich off of your cheek, licking it. It leaves you stunned briefly. 

“What did he say, love?” Viktor smirks at your expression, you shake your head going back on track to your recent statement. “I gave him those pencil packs that we bought last night and when he said thank you he told me that any guy would be lucky to be with me.” Your face scrunched as your recalled what happened earlier. 

“He isn’t wrong, but what a strange thing to say.” Viktor doesn’t seem entirely muddled by their coworkers choice of words. His fingers trail down to your knee giving it a squeeze. “I know, right!?” You lift up your mug of coffee. “Can you check if it’s too hot, Vikkie?” You bring it up to his lips, he leans to the cup swiping the roasted liquid.

“Too sweet.” He sticks his tongue out in disgust, you playfully roll your eyes. “Is it good for me or not?” You pout and he snickers. “It’s the perfect temp, love.” He goes back to his paperwork and you connect your hands back together, his weaker leg resting over your calf that you stuck out on purpose.

 “Thank you for your service.” You peck his cheek. The both of you didn’t even notice the pink-haired girl wearing sunglasses and a beanie. And the big-lug on the other side of the cafe wearing a stupid blond wig. 

“Of course.” He murmurs, suddenly feeling a buzz in his pocket. “Who’s that?” You nosily inquire, resting your head on his shoulder. “Probably an email.” He ignores the device. 

Jayce deadpans, in disbelief due to being ignored. Sending another text but this time to your phone. 

You didn’t bring it though, leaving it in your classroom in the top drawer of your desk. “Do you think Jayce and Vi know finally?” You suddenly question your boyfriend, still leaning on him as you ate your food. “It’s a little surprising that they haven’t already, you’re very touchy.” He pokes fun at you. “You love it~” You lift your hands up, showing them off to prove your point. 

Jayce has an upset expression, being ignored by you as well. Neither of you are even peeking at your phones. He stands up from his spot, Vi silently freaking out the closer he gets to the happy couple. The pair had agreed not to confront them but the brunette couldn’t stop himself. 

His body is already standing in front of your table. The two of you glance up at him, you give a smile. “Hey, Jayce! I didn’t know you came here!” You cheerfully say, lifting your head from Viktor’s shoulder. He frowns at the loss of warmth. Jayce is confused by your lack of… shock? Not pulling away from one another.

“Is that Vi?” Viktor points towards the window tables. The girl melted into her seat in embarrassment. You wave at her, motioning for her to join the conversation.

“You two are dating?” 

“Mhm, for 7 months.” You proudly state. 

Violet and Jayce’s jaws slack open. “Why did you never tell us!?” Vi’s eyes were wide with curiosity. “You never asked.” Viktor shrugs his shoulders and you giggle. “We didn’t think it needed to be a conversation. Keeping it professional at work.” You explain further. 

Jayce and Vi sit in the booth across from the both of you, basically inviting themselves. “We’re in relationships, we could’ve been going on triple dates!” Jayce pretends to be angry. Viktor scrunches his nose. “Not happening.” 

“Awe, why not?” Vi juts out her bottom lip. “Well, you two were spying on us. Were you not?” Your partner gives them a straight-faced look. Their faces begin to heat up. “No- we- What? No we weren’t.” Jayce shakes his head, disagreeing with that unbelievable accusation. 

“Why do you have a wig in your pocket?” You lean over to the side, calling attention to the blonde fake hair he had stuffed into his pant pocket. “Vi’s wearing sunglasses and a beanie inside a coffee shop.” Viktor blinks. She rips them off, her hair lifting from the static. 

“Okay, whatever, you caught us.” She grumbles, sneakily snatching your sandwich and taking a bite of it. You glare at her to which she just mumbles out a half-assed apology. 

For the rest of your guys’ lunchtime they asked questions, curious about your relationship. You were more than happy to answer everything as Viktor only butted in a few times when their little interrogation got too personal or inappropriate. 

And once it was time to leave they were rushing to tell everyone that they had figured it out even though mostly everybody knew already.

Mel and Caitlyn especially. They were actually one of the first people to find out in the first few weeks of you two dating. 

Their lovers were just a little… slow. 

------------------------

I think I'm going to make an actual story of this au with Viktor as the love interest if anyone would be interested in that!

Edit- I made a college student au ☝️

[ronwestbreeze]

NONBELIEVER | viktor

summary: you would think two zaunites would come together and change the world. but perhaps fate had other plans for the two...

word count: 5.7k

warning: no use of y/n, angst and ambiguous endings???

author's note: so act 3 really messed me up lol but enjoy some angsty viktor because why not? the gif is from this set!!

ACT I: MOB

Like Viktor, you lived and breathed the Undercity just not in the same way.

Your face used to be what artists would paint, even for a revolutionary.

But now it was stained with blood of your own. Beaten out of you mercilessly until cool shackles were clamped onto your hands and steel bars shielded you from the world. You have been in prison for some time now. Months, maybe a year? These days you’ve lost count. The only way you could tell how much time had passed was the growth of your hair. That was the price of being a revolutionary. That was the price of taking risks no one else would. Now you tasted blood and smelled old pipes. That was life in Stillwater Hold.

How you got here was the same story as any other inmate. You had planned to destroy a part of Piltover to make a point. To show that the people of the Undercity would not rest or become the ants under their boots. Most of your comrades had escaped from Enforcers, others were killed in the explosion, and then there was you. It was a sacrifice so that your comrades could have time to escape. And you’ve long accepted your fate.

That is until a certain professor decided to mess with fate.

After being forced out of your cell to meet this Professor Heimer—something, you weren’t really sure about. All you knew was that these Enforcers really liked to manhandle you especially roughly and took pleasure in seeing the black eye and blood on your teeth. That you were used to.

“Oh dear, could we please get her a towel at least?” The professor chided with a shake of his head. “Goodness, at least have her be presentable!”

Eventually, you got the rag, albeit it was thrown at you. After spitting on one of the Enforcer’s shoes, you wiped the blood and dirt from your face as the professor began speaking.

“Well, you certainly live up to your name. The Rebel Moon, is it? You may or may not have heard of me, but I am Professor Cecil. B. Heimerdinger and I are here as a Piltover Academy representative!”

A beat of silence went by. You realized then he was waiting for a response. You rolled your shoulder back and rubbed your aching jaw. “What are you meeting with me for?”

Professor Heimerdinger cleared his throat awkwardly, “Well….it seems you’ve left yourself a bit of a…reputation. I specifically admire your work on the bridge a year ago—marvelous work!” Sarcasm. You didn’t quite appreciate the condescension either. Seeing the unimpressed expression on your face, he quickly continued, “What I mean to get at is that we found some of your…erm, blueprints and I was surprised to see that most of them had been handwritten yourself, is that right?”

One of the Enforcers placed down a file filled with your old blueprints. They were mostly a copy of the Piltover Bridge, others were for weapons that your previous comrades built off of your drawings. Then there were the private drawings. The ones filled with naïve dreams of rebuilding the Undercity, changing it to a place where it was safe for everyone.

You snatched the files and hid those drawings in the file earning a quick yank from one of the Enforcers holding your chain. But after a subtle look from the professor, the chain loosened, and you frowned, anger boiling in your blood. “Where did you get this?”

Heimerdinger raised his hands, “I come in good faith, child, that I can promise.”

“I don’t particularly care about your promises—”

“Oh yes, very true,” The professor tapped the table thoughtfully. “But I do think you will like the proposition I have for you.”

Apparently, you had the potential talent of being an architect. One of the best in your generation it seemed—which somehow, he got from just looking at your old blueprints. And now he was convinced that you should join his Academy and that this was the perfect opportunity for you to change your life. To start over. To—

“Become one of you people?” You frowned and pushed the file away from you. “I’ll take my chances in here.”

 Heimerdinger, of course, was quite the persistent man.  “Imagine what you could do with your talents, Miss Moon. You’re still so young, you don’t have to waste your life behind bars. You can start anew!”

“I’m not wasting away in here.” You say simply, your shoulders are heavy and your face still sore. Carefully and slowly, you leaned back in the chair you were sitting in,  trying not to put too much stress on your recently dislocated arm. “That’s the thing with you Upsiders. You all don’t know anything about what it is to fight. And what it is to sacrifice just so your people can see the light of day. I don’t need your handouts. I’m doing just fine here. It’s where I belong.”

At that, he frowned. “I’m afraid I disagree with you, Miss Moon.” He pushed the file back toward you. “You have the chance to create something beautiful for your city, for your people. You have the chance to help them live. You have the chance to be something greater.”

Greater. You weren’t great. It was either great or nothing.

Somehow, Heimerdinger managed to strike a deal and get you out of Stillwater despite your rejection. For some reason, he was so determined to make you into something that you weren’t. And you were determined to fail. You were determined to prove him wrong. Even if he tried to impress you with the new uniform, the scenery, and the architect of Piltover—just to inspire you—you would not break.

If anything, seeing all this luxury only made you angrier. Even if they preached about you now being free with new chances, there were still shackles clamped on your wrists, imprinting themselves like a tattoo. To remind you that even if you’ve gotten this chance, there is always a chance for you to go back. And they wouldn’t hesitate to send you back once you mess up. Which was what you were counting on.

But it seemed that Heimerdinger was a lot more astute than you expected. The professor had you in his study during the day to work and look over some blueprints for new housing at the Academy. It left you with very little time to plan something reckless that would have you sent back to prison. Which, you guessed, was what Heimerdinger wanted. So, you entertained him and worked on the stupid blueprints, redesigning everything as fast as you could so you could get done faster and have more time on your hands.

Of course, that plan went quickly out the window when there came more demands for blueprints. Leaving you swapped and buried deep in work you didn’t even want. And yet, admittingly, it was a nice distraction. There was a small part of you—the child you—that enjoyed some of this. You would never admit that to Heimerdinger and yet you couldn’t put the pencil down. Eventually, you began receiving so many different requests for different projects that Heimerdinger got you a lab over your own, so all your stuff didn’t get overcrowded in his study.

Requests were filled with more designs or redesign for specific buildings they were hoping to update to catch up to the times—and then there were a few that had you designing weapons. The more you worked, the more of a reputation you began to build in the Academy. The new Undercity kid. Rebel Moon. Hephaestus. It was all ridiculous.

That’s when another fellow Undercity student finally found you.

“I fear those papers would catch on fire the more you glare at it.”

It was an accented voice that stirred you out of your spinning thoughts. You definitely had been glaring at the blueprints of a recent request for an apartment just a few walks from campus. You briefly glanced over your shoulder toward the man—he seemed a little bit older than you, walked with a cane, intrigued amber eyes, and a small, amused smile tugging at his lips.

“If you’re here for a request then just leave it over there with the rest.” You murmured before turning your attention back to the blueprints after pointing toward a desk in the corner stacked with many more requests.

There was a short breath before he spoke, “Ah, no, I actually already sent a request just a few weeks ago…I’m impressed by your work, the professor has a knack for spotting talent.”

You didn’t respond as you kept staring at the blueprints, twirling the pen in your hand, feeling the weight of the shackle around your wrist.

You heard him clear his throat, “So, you are from the Undercity?”

“What’s it to you?” You grunt before outlining.

“Well, truthfully, I didn’t expect the Academy to accept another one.”

At that, you swirl around in your seat and sized the man up carefully. He was pale, slightly hunched to hide his true height, neatly combed dark hair, and he had very fine cheekbones. “Another one? What, too many Zaunites in your perfect little school?”

“I would’ve thought they had enough once I joined.” He gave a knowing smile that made you pause and narrow your eyes.

“…You’re…from the Undercity?”

He moved toward you; the click of his cane echoed in the quiet room and offered his hand to you. “I’m Viktor. I’ve heard a lot of great things about you, Miss Moon.”

You stared at his hand for a moment, tilting your head, “Great things? That doesn’t sound right.”

Viktor chuckled, still holding his hand out. “Eh, some people might have a few opinions about you. Unfortunately, it made me all the keener to meet you in person.”

“Am I what you expected then?” You asked as you eventually shook his hand, your shackles clinking a bit.

With a small smile, he squeezed your hand, “No. Not at all.”

Your brow twitched as you studied him. He was delicate-looking. But his hand was a bit larger yet slender. They were calloused, just like yours yet warm compared to your coldness. It was then you realized that your hand was still in his and you pulled it away and turned back to your work.

“My name’s not ‘Miss Moon’ by the way.” You grunt as you refocus.

There was another soft chuckle and a click of his cane before he was gone. You couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder and stare at the doorway, a little bit too intrigued.

After that, you didn’t stop seeing Viktor. At least twice every week you’d get a request for him to polish some designs for his work. Sometimes he’d send his assistant, Sky, and sometimes he’d come in person himself.  At first, you weren’t entirely sure about him. But the fact that he was from the Undercity along with his assistant was slightly comforting. At least you weren’t alone here. Still, it was odd. Foreign.

“Have you ever gone out to see the finished product of your work?” Viktor asked you one day, deciding to linger even after delivering yet another request for something to do with a Hexcore.

“No.”

“Why?”

You frown and glance toward him. He was looking over some of your finished blueprints with a strange look accompanied by a smile. “I’m just not interested.”

Viktor blinked and met your eyes with a small frown. You didn’t say much more—truthfully there wasn’t much more to be said about it.

“Well, it’s one of the most beautiful designs I’ve ever seen. If that’s any consolation.”

You felt something in your chest at his words. Perhaps some of you did want to see the finished products of your design. And yet you were always rooted in this lab. In the dark under one lamp, barely seen by other students. Hephaestus.

Viktor tapped your workbench thoughtfully and hummed, “I’ll leave you to it, Miss Moon.”

You rolled your eyes, “That’s not my name.”

He laughed and left your lab.

On another day he came into your lab in quite a hurry. He left his requests as usual before rushing out. Only he left a ring behind. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you glanced at the ring on the floor and toward your workbench before sighing. After grabbing the ring, you pushed up from your stool and left your lab. This was the first time you’ve walked around campus or went anywhere besides your lab or Heimerdinger’s study.

You asked around for Viktor’s lab until you stopped on a bridge, spotting something quite familiar.

It was the newly remodeled dorms. They glistened like gold in the sun. Build just like how you imagined them in your head. Just like how you outlined it on paper. Only in your dreams could you imagine what they would look like. But seeing it….It was real. And it was beautiful. And it came from your mind.

“Ah, Miss Moon, odd seeing you here!” Viktor approached you quite smugly from across the bridge. He glanced toward the dorms and gave a grin, “They just got done with it last week. What do you think, hmm?”

You narrow your eyes, “You scheming little eel.”

Viktor blinked almost too innocently, “I haven’t a clue what you mean—ah, I was looking for that.”

He gestured toward the ring in your hand. You gave it back to him while your eyes couldn’t help but draw back to the dorms. There was a tightness in your chest and a small ache behind your eyes.

“Glorious, isn’t it?” Viktor asked, his voice gentle as always.

You snapped out of your reserved awe and cleared your throat. “They did okay, I guess.”

With that, you darted back to your lab, the dorms imprinting themselves in your mind.

It became a routine at some point. Viktor began visiting your lab a little more often. At first, you didn’t notice this. But some days he’d come back to your lab a second time that day just to linger and see what else you were working on. At first, you thought you found it annoying. But as the days carried on and turned into weeks, you began to begrudgingly look forward to his visits.

“At least make yourself useful. Look over my work and see if there’s anything I missed.” You tried grunting when he leaned a little closer than usual to look at the blueprint you were working on.

“Hmm, I can try.” Viktor hummed as he flicked his eyes over the finished prints. “But they’re all probably perfect as usual.”

“Don’t you have some work to get to?”

“Not particularly, no.”

For some reason, he started leaving shit in your lab. Which would lead to you having to go and find him and return his stuff. Stuff like a screwdriver or some paperwork. Today it was a journal as you trudged through the campus and finally found his lab.

“Vik, I understand you’re a busy man, but you can’t keep leaving your shit in my area.” You huffed, throwing his journal onto his workbench, breaking him from his focus.

“Oh, Miss Moon,” He looked genuinely surprised to see you. “I wasn’t expecting you…”

“Yeah, right, so you didn’t leave this in my lab on purpose? You just happen to leave it there for me to find and bring to you?” You hummed, tilting your head as you got a good look at what he’s been working on—something a lot longer than what you’ve been doing. The Hexcore was what he called it. You didn’t understand it yourself—or cared much to learn about it. But you did notice some of your designs were used for his work.

“Mmm, you make me sound like a calculating stalker.” Viktor hummed as he got to his feet, joining your side. So, close his arm brushed against yours.

“Are you?” You quipped dryly while studying the Hexcore.

His slender fingers gently brush along your elbow. “I wouldn’t call myself a stalker, no. Are you interested?”

You glanced at him and realized he was talking about the Hexcore. “No. Just give me the why.”

Viktor hummed once more and leaned against the table, his fingers still brushing gently along your elbow. “For our home.” At that, you felt a tightness within your chest, your features falling slightly. Viktor, who had become very astute with your expression, gently grabbed your arm and squeezed it. “What’s with that face?”

You remember your life before the Academy. You remember your determination to prove Heimerdinger wrong. “Sometimes…I feel as if I’ve gotten too comfortable…too used to all of this….”

In the end, it was always your people above everything else. A revolutionary never dies, that was the simple truth.

“I think I’ve gotten too comfortable too.” Viktor frowned softly, tilting his head a bit to get a better look at your eyes when you averted your gaze. “And it’s all your fault, Miss Moon.”

You rolled your eyes only for him to lean forward and capture your lips with his. A lick of fire had been rekindled within you, breathing life into your soul, into your body. When he brought his hand to the back of your neck, when he practically cradled your face and brought you closer so he could deepen the kiss, when he touched you so gently as he always did, it was as if for a moment that heavy weight on your shoulders had been lifted. Leaving you weightless for even just a moment. That bit of relief was a breath of fresh oxygen in your lungs.

The heat from his lips moved from your mouth and down to your jaw and to the crook of your neck. Your back was pressed against the workbench as he practically clung and draped himself over you. And you let him. Even when he desperately wanted to feel you and kiss you all over, he was gentle. He always was.

The days didn’t change much except for whenever he was free, he’d head straight for your lab. Whether on a break or in a hurry, he’d always stop by and pepper your face with quiet kisses and touches before leaving for his lab. It was routine. You were getting comfortable. Comfortable in his warmth. In his gentle hold.

“Just stay,” Viktor murmured against your jaw as you examined some of his work with the Hexcore. “Your presence is better than that tea Jayce always makes.”

“I can’t, Heimerdinger wants to meet with me soon, and I got a bunch more new requests on my desk.” You hummed while looking through Viktor’s partner, Jayce’s, notes. “I think that Jayce guy requested some designs for a hammer of some kind—that’s been taking up most of my time as of lately so I can’t necessarily—”

“I know, I know,” Viktor rested his chin on your shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment as he slumped against you.

His health had gotten worse, which was something you and everyone else noticed. It did worry you how much he was working lately without much sleep, but you quickly learned how much of a stubborn man he was—especially when it came to his work.

“What do you think Heimerdinger wants to meet with you about?” He voiced your constant question out loud.

“Don’t know.” You murmured, trying not to think too much about it—or his health right now. “Won’t know until I get there. Probably wants to send me back to Stillwater.”

At that, he pinched your waist, “Don’t joke like that.”

“It’s a little funny.”

“Losing you is not funny to me.”

You placed Jayce’s scribbles down and wrapped your arms carefully around his neck, burying your face into his shoulder with a soft hum. He instantly relaxed in into your hold, but of course, you could tell his mind was still half Hexcore and half you at the moment. “Be sure to get some rest, okay?”

As usual, he gave a half-assed noise of slight agreement.

ACT II: REBEL MOON

It wasn’t long before Jayce Talis became the Man of Progress and Viktor became buried in his work. And then you were promoted. The lead architect of a very important project for Piltover. No longer the Rebel Moon but Hephaestus, Piltover’s future.

But.

But.

Everyone saw you as the kid saved from the Undercity and made a new. Everyone saw you as the future of their city. You were part of the progress of tomorrow. And you kept chasing Viktor, trying to keep up with his mind but he—he had become so work driven—so ambitious on the Hexcore dream that he had forgotten everything else.

You were angry. Angry at Piltover. Angry at what you’ve become. Angry at Viktor. This wasn’t the life you had chosen. All of this was envisioned for you. This wasn’t for you. You had nearly gotten so swept up in all the glamour and success that you had nearly forgotten—

No. You would never forget your people.

So, when your lab went up in smoke when you destroyed the project that you had been assigned to as lead architect, when the Enforcers tackled you to the ground and arrested you on the spot, when one of them grinned as if they’d been waiting—waiting for you to finally mess up, you knew right then that you would never be what Heimerdinger, what Viktor, or what anyone saw for you. You were a Zaunite after all. And a revolutionary. A rebel. Always.

It wasn’t long before you were placed back in Stillwater Hold. In the same cell. With the same shackles. You didn’t even get to tell Viktor goodbye. Would he have even realized it? Or perhaps, it was better off to leave him to his Hexcore dream. Perhaps, that was best. Yes.

But your mind was no longer settled with just staying in a cell and living out your sentence. One thing Piltover did give back to you was your fighting spirit. Rekindled your fire. And breathed life into your dead soul. And so, you weren’t quiet in the cell. You made noise. Cried out for war until the rest of the prisoners joined you. It wasn’t long before a riot broke out. The prisoners overpowered the guards, and you led them to escape.

The streets of Zaun were screaming for the Rebel Moon once more. Even now more so than ever when rumors began flying around about a rocket hitting Piltover, resulting in a few councilmembers’ deaths. Your thoughts wandered to Viktor, you wondered if he was okay, if he hadn’t killed himself working so hard. But your focus went back to your people. To the escaped prisoners as you all went into hiding underground. They followed you. Their chosen leader. You had no wish to be a leader, but you did want to be free and help your people.

ACT III: NONBELIEVER

Hiding in the Underground for months began to wear everyone down, even you—their supposed fearless leader. The sickness in the Undercity knew no bounds. Many of your people were getting sicker and dying as the days passed. You did your very best trying to supply and care for them—but you could only do so much.

That’s when you started hearing strange rumors about some healer in the Undercity. A herald or whatever that meant. At first, you didn’t think much of these rumors while being so focused on caring for your people.

Soon, sightings of strange people began appearing. Shouting about the Herald and how he could save their people. You were…wary of this. It almost seemed too good to be true. And you hadn’t seen these strange people yourself, so you thought it was all fake, stories made up to give the people false hope.

You came back from the small local market with more food than you could scrape up. Somehow, you’d have to figure out how to make it last throughout the month. But there were so many people. So many people are coming for refuge, and so many people in need of help.

“Are you the Rebel Moon?”

At the voice, you stop and glance over your shoulder, only to find no one there. Had you imagined it? Were you too wary after months of people coming to you and seeking refuge? The name Rebel Moon became a beacon of hope as much as it was for the name Jinx or that Herald.

Deciding it was just exhaustion messing with your head, you turn to continue forward, only to gasp and stop when you nearly ran into someone standing directly in front of you.

And they had appeared out of nowhere. It was a man that you didn’t know. His face void of any emotion except for a simple smile on his face, strange crystal-like fixtures embedded into his skin, while wearing white fabric far too clean to have come from the Undercity.

“You are Miss Moon, yes?” The man asked.

You stiffened. No one had called you that in a while. No one except… “Whose asking?”

The smile remained on the man’s face, “The Herald has been searching for you, Miss Moon. And he would like to speak with you.”

You gripped the basket of fruit and near stale bread in your hand and gritted your teeth, “I’m not interested, thanks.”

Just as you nudged past the man to continue down the crowded street, he spoke again. Only this time it wasn’t his voice coming from his mouth.

“You’re a hard woman to track, Miss Moon.”

It was like the air had been stolen from you as you whirled around to stare wide-eyed at the man with Viktor’s voice. The basket fell from your grasp, but the man was quick to catch it—somehow so fast—as he handed it back to you. “V-Vik?”

He nodded and slowly blinked, “I feared I wouldn’t see you again. You disappeared so suddenly, almost as if you weren’t there to begin with.” The man’s hand came up to gently brush his fingers along your jaw sending a sharp shiver down your spine. “Almost as if you never existed.”

You flinched almost and stepped back. Thoughts swirled within your mind as you tried to reel from the man speaking in Viktor’s voice. “What…what is this? How are you doing this?”

“I don’t want you to be frightened of me.” He instead said, taking another step forward but didn’t reach out to touch you again. “I only want to help you. I can save those people from that sickness.” You opened your mouth, ready to ask how he knew but stopped yourself which allowed him to continue, his voice gentle. “Only if you let me.”

“You’re the Herald.” It was mostly confirmation for yourself as you let the words slip out.

The man smiled softly, “I wish to see you again, Miss Moon. There is so much I wish to show you. But I will come to you first.”

Before you could ask what, he meant by that, the man’s voice returned, and Viktor’s voice was gone. “The Herald will come tomorrow, Miss Moon.”

And with that, watched this vessel of a man walk away. Leaving you feeling as if you were in some type of nightmare. No, alternate reality. It must’ve been some hallucination. Yes. That had to be it.

Only when the next day came, one of the children at your camp came running to you about the Herald being here, did you know right then and there that this was not a hallucination.

You watched as he entered your camp with those lifeless people that followed him.  Viktor had changed. Covered in indigo metallic skin, his hair slightly longer, his posture straighter yet still relying on a cane—or staff in this case.

Viktor’s eyes found yours almost instantly as if they were magnetically drawn to you. It looked like him.

“Miss Moon.” He hummed as he drew closer, staring at you with the same gentleness despite the distance in his expression.

It sounded like him.

You led him to the tent he would be staying in, watching the lifeless people tend to your people with baskets of fresh fruit and food. Viktor called your name in his accented voice, drawing your attention back to him, finding him already staring at you with an intense expression.

Even in this form, Viktor’s body couldn’t help but be pulled toward you. He let the staff rest while his hands slowly came up to trace and feel this human skin. Distantly he was all too aware of it. How he still reacted to you. With the remnants of Sky lingering in his mind, his thoughts had always wandered back to you. The image of your divine being. If he could still dream, it would’ve only been you he would’ve seen.

There was a strong pull that led him to you. Perhaps sensations of desperation. Even as he leaned his forehead against yours, feeling the little warmth coming from your body against his metallic yet pallid skin—he still wished to mold himself to you. To never stop touching you. To never let you slip from his fingers again

And then there was that look on your face. The furrow in your brow running heavy with exhaustion—you hadn’t slept. At that realization, his hand gently squeezed the side of your neck absently.

“You’re so quiet.” Viktor hummed finally, quietly for only you and him to hear in the stillness of the tent. His thumb traced your cheekbone. “You’re always keeping your thoughts from me.”

You tilted your head, trying to stir yourself out from the haze of his touch. “Are those…those people….are they the ones you ‘saved’?”

“Yet, so honest.” There was a hint of a smile on his face as he selfishly pulled your hand against his chest, keeping it there, selfishly. “Yes. They’re healed. No more…senseless pain. I can offer your people this peace. And you can come to stay at our new home. I think…you’d like it. You need peace.” He rubbed his thumb under your eye, making your shoulders grow heavier. “And rest.”

You couldn’t come up with a response. His lips linger on your mouth, and your jaw, and your neck. His fingers thread through your hair which had grown longer since the last time he had seen you. Gentle traces, cool breath fanning along your skin, his arms wrapping around your weathered and scarred form. Even your fingers traced his new skin. Refamiliarizing yourself with him.

But.

But.

It wasn’t him.

Even when his lips pressed gently yet hastily against yours, his body clinging to your human flesh, it still felt like a stranger. Familiar yet unfamiliar.

Confliction warred at your mind as you watched him move through the camp, your people looking at him as if he were a savior. As if the gods had sent him when it was only magic and remnants of the Hexcore embedded into his body. Your eyes couldn’t stop falling onto the lifeless people he ‘saved’. The ones that followed him without much thought. Would your people look like this? Void of themselves? No breath. No heartbeat?

But then you wanted Viktor. You wanted to go to this peaceful land he had created for himself and these people. You wanted to be with him. To be wrapped in his gentle embrace once more. To hear his voice whisper gently into your ear, easing the exhaustion from your muscles.

But.

But.

But.

Viktor reached out toward a boy. Sparks danced along his fingertips. The boy stared in awe. It was instant, your reaction.

Your hand grasped his wrist, stopping him. Viktor’s gaze met yours in an instant. You didn’t know what your face looked like, but it made Viktor falter.

Viktor saw your face and absolute dread filled him. A sense of it at least. It made his body go slack in your grasp—surrendering to you instantly. The glassiness of your gaze and that expression. He had never seen such a thing on your face. Fear. Desperation. Hurt. Sorrow. Grief.

He’d lost you. No. No. He’d…He’d get you back. He couldn’t let you go again…he couldn’t let…

What was this strange feeling in his chest?

You pulled him away from the boy and Viktor allowed himself to follow you. Gazes unwavering. But you forced the words out of your mouth. “This isn’t what I want for these people. This…this isn’t saving them…”

He couldn’t let you slip from his fingers.

You couldn’t let him take your people’s humanity.

He needed to keep you. To keep his humanity.

“Revolutions never rest.” Was your whisper as you released his wrist.

He called your name, but you forced yourself to turn your back on him.

“Show him out.” You murmur to one of the stronger men in your camp. You couldn’t turn back. You couldn’t look him in his eyes. If you did….

Then this conflict would disappear in an instant.

Viktor and his followers left without much problem. Maybe that hurts too.

The yearning for Viktor never left you and yet it wasn’t your job to bring him back. This Hexcore…all of it was beyond you. Maybe all of it wasn’t meant to be for you. Maybe…Maybe he wasn’t meant to be yours….

Days later you had heard the Herald had changed.

Days later the Herald was gone from this world.

Days later your exhaustion and grief wore on your shoulders.

Days later you’re trudging through the Undercity, more baskets filled with fruit in your arms.

Days later, you find a blue shard on the ground, somewhere near where Viktor’s utopia had been.

You picked it up from the ground, a remnant of what remained of Viktor and his work. You saw the manmade tents that were now abandoned, the builds similar to your past designs of what you wanted for the Undercity.

Silent tears fell from your cheeks as you gripped the shard. And you clutched the shard so tight in your hand that you could’ve sworn you felt a soft hum from it. Or maybe you were imagining things. Maybe you were too exhausted. Maybe you really did need rest.

And then.

You heard that accented voice.

“Miss Moon.”

Your breath hitched as the shard suddenly began to glow.

And Viktor’s voice came from it.

“May I show you something?”

And then. There was a bright blue flash.

@sadderall-xr @renn-pumkin-head @aise-30 @callingstars

[thetardigrape]

Something occurred to me that I find really fascinating about Viktor. He truly has two fatal flaws: ambition and ego.

He is obsessed with his legacy, almost from the point when we meet him: "Do you think it was my life's ambition to be an assistant?" He also mentions legacy when he's talking with Heimerdinger after his hospitalization. He wants to make contributions that matter. He wants to change the world.

But ambition alone isn't enough to push him into the atrocities he ends up committing. He also, very early on, comments on Jayce's ego, but Jayce, remarkably, isn't very egotistical. He might come across that way, but that's because Jayce is a people pleaser, and the people around him are pushing him into the spotlight for their own reasons.

But Viktor thinks he knows better than everyone. He knows better than Jayce how to make hextech work. He knows better than Heimerdinger how to control and wield magic. He has a brief moment of humility when Sky dies, which, ironically, the hex uses to manipulate him to grow his ego even more.

He knows better than those shimmer addicts what they need. He knows better than Singed how to save Vander. He knows better than Jinx what she could do with her skills. He knows better than everyone, and if they would just stop arguing, he could bring true peace and harmony to the world.

And because he thinks he knows better than everyone, he erases everyone's humanity. He removes the parts of them that would argue with him, push back against his actions, or cause any conflict whatsoever. Only harmony is allowed, so if you disagree with him, the part of you that disagrees will simply be removed. Viktor knows what's right. You do not.

This is fascinating, because, to all outward appearances, he's pretty meek and mild. He doesn't raise his voice, he doesn't scoff at people, he doesn't insult them. He just quietly, internally, thinks that they are ignorant and wrong.

And that's why only Jayce could get through to him. Because only Jayce went through the same journey Viktor did while retaining his humility. Jayce never wanted to be in charge. Jayce never wanted to change the world. He just wanted to show everyone the beauty in magic that he saw as a boy—the beauty that was Viktor all along. Jayce never cared about ego or ambition. He didn't want Viktor's legacy. He just wanted his partner back.

[starrycassi]

VERY old and uncooked au I have where Viktor (and eventually jayce) end up working for Silco.

(Edited on December 17th, 2024. Added Sky to the plot, edited the way the heist happens, explained a bit more about The Herald, generally added some other details)

PART 1 - VIKTOR (childhood, adolescence, survival)

Singed actually takes the child in. Yeah I know Viktor technically HAS parents but we've never seen em in the show so I'm ignoring them

So Viktor now lives + works for singed. He gets over his morals real quick when faced with a fully equipped laboratory. He's a child, okay? He gets excited and is eventually groomed (I don't mean romantically, just like molded) by singed into agreeing + obeying all the things the older man tells him. Silco joins in on the part later and toys with his brain as best as he can

Singed uses him as a bargaining chip with Silco. An investment, if you will.

A bit of a "future promise" thing. Viktor actually agrees to this because he knows it's the best shot he's got. All the years living alongside Singed have made him into a more cynical/realistic person. He's 13 and already grumbles at "kids these days"

And Silco is an opportunistic man. He looks at this young, blooming genius and goes "yeah, why not? He is your problem, though. Have some money and make me a bomb"

Viktor also gets a pretty decent gun and shooting lessons. His aim is decent enough. He also hangs around sevika A LOT. He recognizes her as the strongest, safest individual if a fight breaks out and tells her ad much. She won't admit it but the praise feels good. She allows him to hover around and he helps her with small things like lighting hee cigarettes or refilling her flask. It's a symbiotic relationship where they both look at each other dead in the eye when someone is saying stupid shit.

So Viktor is like 15 and suddenly faced with even MORE power and recognition, even MORE fundings and accomodations.

This boy pours his life and time into making weapons. His dreams of being a scientist are slowly forgotten as both Singed and Silco effectively turn him into their perfect little genius.

They turn his desire to help against himself, telling him that the only way the under city will ever get better is if they go against piltover and win (which yeah I mean it kinda makes sense) and just general promises and such

Silco is genuinely surprised by how inventive the kid can be, and in return Viktor appreciates the man's offers and words for what it is: a trap he's wilfully walking in.

Silco does NOT feel any affection for the kid. At least not a lot more than he does for sevika or any other loyal worker. He is amused by his intelligence and somewhat entertained by his ideas. He seems Viktor as more of a small dog he's raising, expecting him to develop sharper and sharper fangs. He does care for Viktor in the "one of my youngest workers is more efficient and savvy than five of yours" way

Viktor doesn't feel any affection for Silco, either. He's a really down-to-earth kid, has lived in the fissures all his life and has been coached by singed into how to navigate the under city. He knows singed doesn't really trust the man and doesn't plan on doing so himself. He does love the opportunity he's given, but knows damn well that it's all done for a higher reason.

He does feel a connection with singed, though. It's mutual in a way. More of a mentor-mentee thing than any paternal/familiar relationship, but they're both satisfied with it. Singed respects Viktor and treats him as an equal, which also means he can a bit too harsh on what is essentially still a fragile teen.

They are protective of Viktor only in the way one is protective of their own gun

PART 2 - VIKTOR (last of his teen years, young adulthood, rage)

EVENTUALLY Viktor manages to worm his way into the academy (in the same way he did in canon) while hiding from Silco, Singed and Sevika, and is, instead, rejected. Heimerdinger is too weary of Viktor and his general attitude (for a good reason) and plans on having him interrogated. When he tries to get Viktor to walk alone into a room with him, Viktor panics and starts stuttering out explanations. He knows his position in the under city is conditional. Knows the leash that Silco has around him. The academy could be his safe haven and now he's losing it.

He's also fake-dating Sky while this goes on. Except she's fully convinced they're gonna get married and Viktor is a Homosexual™

Heimerdinger does his best to try and calm him down, however, every word he says makes the situation worse. He's so clearly out of touch, promising things that could never be done.

Viktor is under a lot of pressure and just starts spiraling. Everything the yordle says makes things worse and worse. The commotion calls the school guards attention and Viktor gets almost thrown in jail, all while heimerdinger tries to tell the guards to let him go. Viktor eventually manages to sneak out but fucks his leg up even more in the process.

Sky tries to help, they have a horrible fight and essentially roast each other until they're both kinda crying. Sky cries the most.

He returns "home" and, refusing to be taken back for such a thing, turns his sadness into bright, burning indignation. Silco might be an idiot, he realizes, but he's right about some things. He burns down the uniform after ripping it into shreds.

After all of this, he abandons any dream of ever getting out. Singed looks at him knowingly, tells him that sneaking around is a fine art he hasn't mastered yet, and leaves. Silco welcomes him back with a satisfied smile, and a "see, boy? I was right"

Silco isn't killing Viktor for his betrayal because he smells the heartbreak and KNOWS that this is the time to attack if he wants that boy to be on his side for the rest of his life. Sevika isn't even mad. Just kinda disappointed.

And it WORKS. Viktor is devastated and isolated, and Silco effectively positions himself as the only current logical option. Viktor knows that this is all a shit show but decides that there's nothing to lose by working for the biggest kingpin in the city

This is what begins his transformation as The Machine Herald, or "Herald" for short. His leg is Fucked Up and Singed goes "hey how about I do an unsupervised surgery on you" and Viktor just kinda goes "yeah well why not". He wakes up with more wires than veins in that leg but it hurts a lot less so. Can't win them all can we?

Years go by, Viktor becomes part of silco's inner gang, since Silco is finally sure that this boy has nowhere to run, no one to ask for help. He develops what could be seen as a friendship with sevika. They drink together every so often, trash-talking the rest of the henchmen in hushed whispers in between assignments. She tries to give him life advice in cryptic ways. He kinda gets it. Most of the time.

He makes up with sky and become Best Friends™. In a way. When they're not trying to get each other to come back to Zaun/Piltover

He keeps sky a secret from them all in fear of... Well, of whatever the fuck they could try and do to her if they got mad at him.

He's also a bit of a slut. I mean he's young, hot, kinda part of Zaun's elite, smart... yeah he's getting around. This part is important I swear. No it's not I just want Viktor to get it on. He's constantly sneaking pretty boys in and out of wherever he's staying at that week which is why no one really questions Jayce (see, it was important) the first few days he's in his house after The Trial (idk where the fuck sevika sleeps. Do silco's henchmen just sleep in his house??? Does he provide apartments?? I need to know)

People in the under city actually start talking to Viktor as he gets older, realizing that he's a bit less violent than the rest of silco's thugs and they have a 50/50 shot that he will actually help them in their pleas. This is always weird to him but he endures it for the sake of staying on top of what's being said in the city. And he's also generally a kind soul deep down

He buys from benzo frequently, and Benzo tolerates him because once, very slowly and in a hushes tone, he heard Viktor tell Ekko to never work for anyone with a shark aquarium.

Viktor is quite fond of Ekko. If Silco didn't basically own his soul, he would definitely take the kid in. Which is why he eventually becomes the biggest timebomb advocate.

PART THREE - MEETING JAYCE.

He's in Benzo's shop when he meets jayce.

He goes "yeah I could get him to suck me off probably" and tries to approach

And then jayce pays in GOLD and DOESN'T HAGGLE

And he realizes that this idiot is a piltie. He also realizes that whatever the fuck he just bought and the whole projects he's talking about could be useful for him and silco will not like it if a PILTIE out of everyone outsmarts him in weapon creation. He literally gets in between him and the door with absolutely no idea of what he's going to do (there is absolutely no way he's upping that payment sorry silco you are no match for the Kirammans)

There is no time and he defaults to "oh this is not my bedroom!" mode.

Cue him saying something like "I've never seen such a pretty face in this store. Are you from around here, darling?"

Ekko is gagging in the background.

They flirt yada yada I have the scene but it's too long to write here. U get the idea. I'd anyone wants to read that ask me but for now just use your imagination

Viktor offers Jayce to come back with him to his house for "protection" because "these streets are sooo cruel for foreigners" and Ekko hypes him up. "Oh Yeah Herald here is So Strong and Everyone Respects Him" which is technically not a lie. Jayce gets overwhelmed and accepts. As this is happening the kids are staging the heist but it has not happened yet. Don't ask me about timelines idgaf

They make out a bit, Jayce tells Viktor all about his theory (which is arguably hotter for Viktor) and shows him his notes (because obviously he carries his journal with him)

Viktor is BLOWN AWAY by this. He gets all worked up. Never felt this horny before. They discuss for a while, and Viktor decides that THIS is something he can stand behind. Actual discoveries, not just drawing blueprints after blueprint of the same fucking thing

Really how many ways can one design a weapon in

Anyways

Viktor sort of mildly drugs jayce and steals three of the shiny orbs and then wakes Jayce up and tells him that this was delightful and such.

PART FOUR - Hey Silco Can We Adopt This Boy. For Science

The heist happens the very same way. Viktor hears about it, about the trial, and decides that all these years of work should get him some privileges

He goes "If you're going to change the world, don't ask for permission" and just goes to save Jayce. Originally I had him argue with Silco and Singed to allow him to do this here but yk what? This man is too impulsive to do that. He's breaking his man OUT with two bribed bodyguards and Janna on his side. Sky is 100% on board because she kinda knows Jayce and he's really nice so she doesn't want them to banish him.

Viktor breaks jayce out do NOT ask me how #thepoweroflove and Sky's blessing or whatever. The henchmen get to punch enforcers so they're happy about it.

The "am I interrupting?" Scene happens. It's also too long so.

It takes Viktor a while to convince Jayce to, yk, betray his country and leave everything he's ever known behind, but Jayce was literally about to kill himself and Viktor is talking about change and help and people who actually need it (lies) and he looks so beautiful under the moonlight and he remembered him. So. Really what can one realistically do in this situation if not agree with the criminal who's trying to save you from exile.

They rush back to Zaun, Jayce leaves a hasty suicide note and says he will drown himself in the river and not to search for him (he leaves a slight clue for him being in Zaun as an alibi in case they eventually find him and want to blame Viktor for kidnapping. Which is such a hot and clever thing that Viktor almost kisses him right there), they break into heimerdinger's room via Sky giving them the keys, steal all the equipment they can carry (henchmen & co brought some bags okay??)

When Mel arrives they're gone. She calls for the guards to come but they're waaay out of her reach and Sky is there all beaten up and crying (she agreed to it)

There might be a motorcycle involved. Cyclists Viktor... Yeah. Hot.

When they arrive, he has his very first actual screaming-match kind of fight with Silco and Singed about keeping A Piltie in their territory, but they eventually and very reluctantly give in. Also Jinx is there. So Silco isn't really that preoccupied with who lives with Viktor and more with how to make this child stop wailing.

Silco knows that even a worm will turn. If Jayce does agree to work for them and stays loyal, then they get another good worker. If not, they can always kill him. He's never heard Viktor this adamant about someone before, and damn he's seen the boy walk around with some pretty faces. Maybe this Jayce fella truly is smart.

PART FIVE - JINX AND JAYCE

When Viktor shows up he finds out that silco has adopted a child. Also Sevika doesn't have an arm. Also Vander is dead. So is, presumably, that child with the bad haircut. So is Benzo. Which is a bummer. He liked the store.

Ekko is nowhere to be found. That's a bit sad. Really sad. He sheds a few tears.

Jayce hates everything that's going on around him buts this man is SUICIDAL, basically homeless, penniless and his one and only lifeline is Viktor. Even if he stayed in Piltover no one would've been able to help. He's just kinda going with the flow. Having him gives Viktor his backbone and morals back. Slowly. Very slowly.

Hextech develops WAY slower. Like they're working in a drug den in the middle of what is basically a hastily put together lab there's absolutely no way there's the same conditions. They're doing their best though.

Jayce Is actually really impressed by shimmer and how it can "help" people. He's gaslighting himself ATP and everyone else is enabling him. No Jayce you're just creating an army of drug addicted zombies what do you mean giving power to the people.

Also eventually Silco gives Viktor a laced brace that makes him mildly addicted to shimmer. Viktor is clever enough to realize what's going on but also experienced enough to know that refusal would be seen as an offense. He takes the brace on and off with his own prototypes. Sevika and him both know they're just digging themselves into a deeper hole. With time he just goes "yeah fuck it" and starts regularly using it on his wires for the better performance of his leg. Glorious evolution or something.

Silco actually tries to kill jayce once because he was getting too fucking annoying and self-righteous, but Jinx steps in. He reminds him of claggor (in a bizarre way). She claims that they're both her friends and she loves them and silco just seethes in silence because Why did he become a father.

They help raise her. Kinda. Not co-parenting. More like co-uncling. They're both horrible influences but they aren't worse than Silco's enablement so it's just a very fucked up raising strategies cocktail.

I wrote all of this so I could successfully say that they have a tea party with her.

THEY LOVE LIL JINX OKAAAY. Specially jayce. He takes all his emptiness and sadness and anger and tries to fill it with love for her and Viktor, the only two people he feels are kind of honest to him. He tries to befriend Sevika. Doesn't really work at first.

Also Jayce being jealous of the fact that Viktor got around, specially when he has the audacity to give powder boy's advice (sevika is a STONE TOP LESBIAN you can NOT tell me anything else) right in Jayce's face. Yeah. Miscommunication. Falling in love. Devotion and guilt. Feelings of owing. Hesitant kisses and never said words. YEEES. I know it's a bit tropey but I like it so. Yeah.

Also both Jayce and Vik have long hair. Jinx insisted they let it grow like hers. Jayce's actually reaches his shoulder plates/mid back while Viktor keeps it shoulder length, just long enough to tie it. I think. Still haven't decided since long hair Jayce is too hard to mentally picture but I know he would look GOOD

Yes this also means that Jayce and Vi meet even earlier. They take a look at each other as they both try to calm down jinx and Become Best Friends™

Caitlyn always has a heart attack because YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD. She, like Vi, goes "yeah silco is definitely keeping my sister/brother captive" and they're both like You Will Not Believe This.

Viktor doesn't join them in their adventures because he is Not jumping around the roofs. He uses a cane. Leave him alone jinx no he can't climb the stupid ass tower.

Jinx and Jayce become a sort of "ground control" thing. Jayce is BUFFED that man can stand his own in a fight. He's not as quick or flexible but he makes up for it in pure absolute brawn. They're not actually doing anything useful they're just entertaining Jinx every so often.

Idk guys this au is consuming my brain.

I have more ideas but this was way too long already

If u read this far u can actually ask for a small scene on the au or add an idea and I'll write it for u

[motthe]

OKAY- idk if requesting twice is okay or not- but if you have the time! Can we see more Mel and reader (lumen au or otherwise)? Where reader has what is essentially Amara’s job but more so a bodyguard type? Mel helped them out at one point and now they protect her and help her with whatever she needs! (Like finding a gift for Jayce or Passive aggressively spitting her mother) and she does the same for them with viktor and egotistical higher ups? Basically just them being each others solace, confidant that knows of the others past while helping them get to the future they deserve with Jayce x Mel & Viktor x reader sprinkled in, (first meetings, first signs of affection, etc) for all parties!

(can be ignored if your busy or otherwise dw ;3)

I hope you enjoyed this!!! I took some creative liberties and placed this in S1 arc 1 :)

warnings: gn!reader, mention of scars and sleep problems, non-sexual nakedness (you’ll get it when you read lol)

Mel rose from her desk, the wide reaching window behind her dark. There were always a few days out of the week she would stay late. She never left anything half-finished and if it wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t finished. 

“Fancy a stroll through the Academy?”

You repositioned yourself from leaning against the wall, raising an eyebrow. The woman approaching you was an esteemed council member and a child of Noxus. Above all that, she held a dangerously sharp mind. 

With you, a trained guard from birth and accepted by her bitch of a mother, you two made quite the confidants. 

“Why?” you asked, knowing you were going whether you fancied the idea or not. Where she went, you went. 

“Why not?” Her grin was infectious, but you saw the mischief swimming in her eyes. 

“It’s far past lockup, for one,” you began, grabbing the door for her. Your belt clicked with the movement, the weight of your gun and knives shifting. “We also have no business with the Academy.”

“We may not, but I have a feeling someone does.”

You hummed, your steps shadowing hers for every beat. Every turn down a hall, your eyes were skating for anything amiss. “This wouldn’t have something to do with a certain expelled scientist, would it?”

She hummed, smiling and confident from where you walked adjacent. 

That poor man, you couldn’t help but think. Catch Mel’s eye and you’re stuck under a microscope until she loses interest. 

“Maybe Heimerdinger has stayed late with that assistant of his,” she said, gaze cutting to you. Your eyes narrowed in warning. 

You changed the subject. “What makes you think that Talis fellow would sneak into the Academy the night of his expulsion?”

“His things are to be destroyed tomorrow morning.” 

“If we get all the way to the Academy and you’re wrong—” you complained. 

“A trip to your favorite spa, paid.” She stopped, tilting her head towards you. “And if I’m right?”

You grumbled, rolling your eyes. “I’ll pose for that painting.”

She pursed her lips, flexing her fingers. 

You crossed your arms and bit out, “No.”

“It’s nude or nothing, darling,” she teased. “I need the practice.”

“You need nothing,” you scoffed, continuing in front of her to check the entrance to the council’s building. The usual enforcer’s we’re making their rounds, tipping their hats to you. 

Mel stepped out next to you, shoulder nudging yours. Your sigh trailed into the night air. 

“Fine.”

Her golden freckles crinkled with the grin that pulled at her lips. 

.

“Did you bring a flashlight?” Mel asked quietly. You gave her the flattest expression known to man in response. “May I borrow it, please?”

“No, you may not,” you answered. Even in the dark you sensed her scowl as you passed, taking up the front. “If I need to shoot someone, I need to see.”

“So violent,” she murmured. “Honestly, he doesn’t seem the type.”

“Then he’d make the perfect assassin,” you chuckled, lowering your voice as you opened the door to the staircase. “Besides, we want to go undetected, don’t we?”

“If no trouble is afoot, then I wouldn’t mind a second look at this research,” she revealed, only adding to a long night ahead. 

“What are you expecting to find?” 

She chuckled. “I do love a good surprise.”

You scoffed quietly as you climbed the steps ahead of her. “You would, miss know-it-all.”

Reaching the floor that held Heimerdinger’s office, you glanced through the window on the door before slipping it open. Mel kept her steps light as you both moved through the darkness. As you crept on, you noticed a faint glow reaching around the corner and glanced at Mel, scowling. 

She wore the look of a winner in the blue-tinted of the moonlight shining through the distant window. Slowly, she mouthed the word ‘nude’.

You shook your head, pulling your flashlight out as you motioned her to follow you. The tinkling of keys and the gears of a lock turning left you with one hand on your gun and the other pointing the flashlight forward. You held off on spotlighting the infiltrator when you noticed two figures sneaking around Heimerdinger’s door. 

“So far so good,” came a familiar ethnolect. You clicked the flashlight on to confirm your suspicions. 

Oh, shit. 

Jayce Talis and Viktor, of all people, were caught red handed, hands guarding their eyes as they were overwhelmed by the brilliance. 

“Willing to risk exile for your endeavor,” Mel spoke, taking up the space on your right as she stared the two men down. “That’s quite the conviction.”

“A counselor,” Talis breathed. 

Viktor chose another path, turning towards the door in a dramatized show of confusion. “Wait a minute, this isn’t my bedroom…”

“Guess those aren’t your keys either?” you hummed, moving your hand off your weapon as he looked up at you. 

“Actually, they are permitted to be in my possession,” he corrected as he stood from his crouch.

“Just like you’re permitted to be here, past lockup,” your eyes fled towards Talis before focusing his pinched gaze “with a freshly expelled student.”

“Eh,” he shrugged, “that one, not so much.”

“Please,” Mr. Talis begged, stepping in front of Viktor, eyes locked on Mel. You positioned yourself between them, hand back on your gun as you pointed the flashlight towards the man. He winced, only passing you a slight flare in retaliation. “We can prove that it works.”

“You couldn’t do so earlier today,” Mel pointed out, expression deadened and feigning disinterest. Seen you had two actors in your midst. “How is tonight any different?”

“We figured out how to stabilize it,” Viktor explained. 

“I’m surprised to find the professor's assistant mixed up in this,” she murmured to you. 

“No, he’s my new partner,” Talis argued, placing a hand on Viktor’s shoulder. Your stomach tightened. 

“Even if you managed to prove your theory the council would destroy it.” Mel burst their bubble with brutal honesty. 

“Heimerdinger will recognize the potential,” Viktor stated. 

“He already does,” she told him, “it scares him. It scares them all.”

“What about you?” Talis asked, determined. 

“I recognize that any worthwhile venture involves risk…” 

Your head turned a second before theirs, picking up on the whistling and footsteps. The night guard was heading this way. Harold. He was always the noisiest, sweetest thing. The old man refused to retire so they put him up here at the Academy. 

“There’s your risk,” you muttered. 

“Counselor,” hissed Talis, “this technology, it’s real and no matter what happens here it’s going to change our world. We should be the ones to lead it—Piltover, the land of progress, equality, innovation. I know it sounds impossible, but when have we ever let that stop us. Please, just give us a chance!”

You stepped back beside Mel, meeting her eyes. She let the two men sweat a bit as the footsteps grew closer. 

“One night. Gentleman,” she said slowly, turning to leave. “Impress me or I’d suggest you pack your bags.”

As she walked away, you noticed the awed look in Talis’ eyes and nearly groaned. She always had to draw in the big dreamers. 

You threw Viktor a sly smile, handing him the flashlight seeing as that poor pen light wasn’t going to be much help. “Good luck, Goggles.”

You switched it off as he accepted it, fingers brushing as you left them to hide in the darkness. You caught up with your principal just as she was moving around the corner.

“Harold!” she sang, nearly sending the sweet old man into a heart attack. You held back a laugh as Me” moved him back down the hall and away from the chaotic scientists behind you. 

Left to their own devices, Viktor clicked on your flashlight and got back to opening the five-bolt door. As he crouched back down, Jayce took over holding the light for him. 

“So,” he murmured, back to the silence of an empty school, “you and the bodyguard are a thing?”

Viktor nearly dropped the keys. “Excuse me?”

“Goggles?” 

“It is a long story,” he whispered, pushing the door open as the last lock unlatched, “and we are not the ‘thing.’ Now get in.”

.

“We’re to return before dawn.”

You turned from toweling your hair to stare down Mel in her bubble bath. She hasn’t bothered to wait until you were done in your own bathroom to fetch you. She wasn’t usually so clingy, but you knew under that cool facade she was nervous of what was to come with the scientists. 

“Why do we have to lose precious sleep over this?” you grumbled, grabbing your toothbrush. 

“You?” she laughed, splashing her water over her knees. “You barely sleep as is.”

“Yeah, well,” you spit the mess of toothpaste and spit from your mouth, “blame your mother for that.”

“I blame her for many things.”

The scars over your body burned, but not from sticky, humid air. You both were quiet for a time. 

“I didn’t expect him to be there.” You turned around, pulling yourself up on the marble counter to look at her. “Viktor, I mean.”

“Guess he saw whatever you did in Talis.”

She puckered her lips at you, arms dropping over the rim of the bathtub as she laid her head on them. “Is that jealousy I hear, darling?”

“Shove it,” you scoffed, moving to do one last check of the place before heading to your room. “Also, he was definitely staring at you as you left.”

“Then you have no reason to worry.”

“Goodnight,” you bit out, shutting the bathroom door on her echoing giggles. 

.

When you knock on Mel’s door she’s back in the same clothes she wore hours earlier. It’s an hour to dawn and barely takes three minutes to reach the Academy. You hadn’t slept a wink.

Offering her a coffee, you both finished them before you were out the door. The guards at the gate gave you groggy second glances, but questioned nothing. 

You sensed the alarm in the empty halls, banging thundering through the stairwell as you both took one glance at the other and sped up your pace. 

You held an arm out as you glanced around the dark corner, eyes widening at the new blue-tinted glow that shined from Heimerdinger’s office. 

“You’ve actually done it…” The professor's voice was beyond astonishment. “But just because it can be done, doesn’t mean—will you please stop hovering?!”

“I’m not sure how to do that sir!”

Your mask nearly slipped. It was the first time you’d ever heard Viktor so…gleeful. 

Mel stalked down the hall, eyes bright with purpose. It reminded you of younger days before she slowed her steps, bringing out Counselor Medarda

“This is not what Piltover’s future looks like, my dear boys!”

The click of her heels alerted everyone as she pushed through the guards, the light of the room washing over her form. 

“That’s for the council to decide,” she stated, head turning from side to side as she observed the room. Being right behind her, you allowed awe to slip at the twinkling bits wandering the room and high above were those troublesome scientists. “Perhaps it’s time for the era of magic.”

“Uh, Hextech,” came Jayce Talis, hair sprawling out with the anti-gravity field he was caught up in. “For the era of Hextech.”

Your eyes slid from his to hers, the slender grin on her lips speaking more than praise in his direction. Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help as they caught on Viktor who looked far too happy to be completely suspended upside down. He kept throwing little objects nearby towards the glistening orb at the center of the room, watching it with interest as it blipped from one side to the other. 

Some round object hovered a bit too close on the opposite side he was facing. You couldn’t help but laugh when it was transported to his side, knocking into his forehead with enough force to make him jump. 

Your voice alerted him, eyes finding yours as you cleared your throat and fixed your metaphorical mask back into place. 

“How long will this last?” asked Mel. 

The young men looked at each other for an answer that neither seemed to have. You eyed the bright orb between them, noticing it was slowly but surely shrinking in size. 

“I suggest you find your way down before you find out,” Heimerdinger called. 

“Right,” Jayce said, waving his arms until he was able to float to the ceiling. He pushed off it, getting about halfway down before gravity seemed to take hold again. He just missed a smaller table in the corner, landing with a painful grunt. 

Heimerdinger tested the space first, his hair seemed to react a bit, but he was able to make his way towards his previously expelled student with ease. You wandered in next, feeling your hair lift from your scalp as the guards were waved away by Mel. She ordered them to fetch the other council members for an emergency meeting in a few hours time. 

“The power source is growing smaller,” you warned Viktor who was still playing around with it near the roof. 

“Yes, without the cranking its energy is used up,” he muttered, more to himself than you as another object flashes through it. It shrunk by at least an inch. “Still such raw power…”

The bits of light hovering around the space were closing in. Your hair returned to its natural state. 

“Uh, Viktor,” Jayce called. 

“How big can the object be?” the man hummed, tossing a book to the orb. You stood below him, eyeing where he’d fall. The dots connected just as the book went through and the blue light went out like a candle flame in the wind. Jayce yelled. 

Your back connected with Heimerdinger’s desk, sending it scraping back in a chorus of something else moving just as gravity claimed Viktor. He knocked the air out of you as he landed on top of you. The ground shook as something else hit the ground nearby. 

You winced as the office lights burst above, taking in a slow, groaning breath. 

“Good heavens,” came Heimerdinger. “Are you three all right?”

Turning your head from the mess of Viktor’s hair in your vision, you saw Jayce lying face down on a tipped over chair with his hand fist glowing. 

“Yeah,” he said into the ground, “just thought I’d catch the crystal before it took out another building.”

“My apologies,” Viktor murmured, expression twisted in discomfort as he pushed himself off your chest. 

“S’fine,” you choked out, still catching your breath. “We’re all victims of physics.”

That broke the tension, or perhaps the adrenaline was still running high amongst the men because they both busted out into hysterics. Well, Jayce did. Viktor just chuckled and focused on getting his entire weight off of you. 

You slowly sat up, rubbing the back of your head where it had clipped the damn desk. 

“Did you hit it?”

You glanced at Viktor, dropping your hand. “I’m good, Goggles. Better than you would’ve been crashing into straight wood.”

“It’s pure oak!” preened Heimerdinger as he scuffled over, tapping the surface. “Very durable.”

“I’ll say,” you grumbled, feeling a headache coming on. 

“You should get that checked. You might have a concussion,” Viktor said, resting his back against the bookshelf behind him. Jayce had finally gotten to his knees, looking a bit bruised as far as his ego went when he glanced at Mel by the door. 

“I’ve seen them take a hammer to the head,” your principal chuckled. “They’ll be fine, I assure you.”

“It’s not bleeding,” Heimerdinger hummed. You balked at him peering around the desk. “How’s your eyesight?”

“Clear,” you said, getting to your feet. “Thank you, professor.”

Viktor remained on the ground. 

“Are you all right?” you asked. “I’m not the softest landing.”

“I’m unharmed,” he answered, nodding behind you. “My cane, however, will need to be replaced.”

You followed his line of sight and frowned at the white stick, cracked in two. 

“I’ll buy you a new one,” Jayce promised as he walked over, offering a hand. 

“I'll see you at the meeting,” Mel announced, eyes piercing the founder of Hextech before moving to his partner’s as he got to his feet. “Both of you.”

You moved the desk back into place, nodding to the professor as he thanked you. 

Hearing your name, you turned as Viktor offered your flashlight. 

“You dropped this,” he murmured, a smile hiding in the corner of his lips. 

“I’m sure it’s broken after that fall,” you said, checking it. The light sputtered before going out. 

“Allow me to fix it, then.”

You blinked at him, smiling at the back and forth before clearing your expression and handing it back. Your fingers brushed. 

“Sure,” you said, following after Mel. “I’ll grab it another time.”

Out in the hall, she smirked at you, unabashed. 

“You couldn’t have had the meeting in the afternoon?” you complained, rubbing your head. 

“I have an appointment at the spa with a friend of mine,” she replied. 

You sighed and kept your mouth shut, leading her out of the building and back home to freshen up again. 

“You know I might need a second opinion when I’m painting you,” she hummed as you both eased into the early light of dawn. “Viktor wouldn’t happen to be a student of the arts as well, would he?”

“You’re lucky I’m the one protecting you and not the one after you,” you growled. 

Back in Heimerdinger’s office, the men were helping clean up the mess they left behind while Heimerdinger lectured them, observing all the while from his chair. 

“Didn’t know you did repair jobs,” muttered Jayce as he shoved a book back into its shelf. 

Below him where Viktor was attempting to put the ‘cranker’ as it were back together, the man rolled his eyes. “I felt I owed it to them seeing as I failed to take care of it.”

“Right, of course.”

Viktor didn’t enjoy the amused silence seeping from his newly acclaimed business partner and slowly tilted his head to glare up at him. “Do you have something else to say?”

“Nope,” answered Jayce, eyebrows bouncing up, “nothing at all, Goggles.”

Viktor sighed. All it took was one day of brain fog and a run-in with you to earn him such a distasteful nickname. At least it taught him to check his goggles were off before leaving the lab from now on.  

“No slacking!” said the professor, swiveling in his chair to shuffle the papers scattered around his desk. “Honestly, I’m not sure how Counselor Medarda’s guard moved this desk. I thought it was bolted to the floor!”

Viktor swallowed as Jayce whistled. 

[bloomnatomy]

MORE BLOOM AS JINX!!!

This is pre-shimmer obviously so her eyes are still blue and she’s a bit healthier

I saw some questions so I figured I’d answer what I had in mind personally

“Would the Winx girlies be from Zaun?”

Mostly!! They would be the firelights.

The leader is Aisha who ran away from her home in Piltover as a young age because she didn’t want to be apart of an arranged marriage before getting radicalized when she discovered what living conditions down in the undercity were like and built a community using her remaining resources as a princess. Her second in command would be Musa.

Flora would be in charge of taking care of the tree and making sure the environment at the base was livable— she’s the one who picks up on the grey immediately and the true horrors of the chemical warfare are brought to light by her.

Tecna builds the gadgets and hoverboards and all that for the firelights and supplies them, and she’s the main strategy coordinator for attacks alongside Musa.

Stella starts off as a rich spoiled princess from Piltover, her parents both royals and part of the council, but I want her to have a Heimerdinger-Esq arc where she eventually gets radicalized against her parents (Mel aspects sprinkled in) and joins the firelights.

In this au, Bloom and Daphne were technically born from Piltover but Bloom was taken in by Darkar when she thought Daphne “abandoned” her and thus was raised as a Zaunite

“Would Bloom ally herself with the Trix?”

In a way, yup :D She gets taken in by Darkar who at the moment was only in charge of Valtor and The Ancestral Witches (because in canon it was said he was their master). The Trix join him later down the line so they technically are all working together until Darkar dies, but they do not like her. None of them do because she’s so clearly Darkar’s favorite when they believe she has no right to be. The Trix are envious of Darkar doting on her, the ancient witches primarily belittle her and complain about her constantly, and Valtor psychologically torments her with her past to make her tick and mess up as he knows Bloom is a very emotionally charged person. He’s the type to say “you’re about as good for the cause as you were for your family” causing Bloom to spiral into madness.

[playboysaleen]

Through Ash and Iron (7)

Jinx x Reader x Caitlyn

Summary: Through Ash and Iron plunges you into the heart of Piltover’s gritty streets, where you’ve always felt the weight of your family’s failures. Rejected from the Junior Enforcer Program, your anger burns brighter than ever—until one fateful punch changes everything. The eyes of Piltover’s elite may look down on you, but it’s the wild eyes of Jinx that truly see you. She’s chaos personified, and you’re drawn to the destruction she promises. But that’s not all. Caitlyn Kiramman, a poised enforcer with a soft spot for rebels like you, offers you a chance to rewrite your future—if you can control the rage you can’t seem to escape.Torn between the order Caitlyn represents and the dangerous freedom Jinx offers, you stand at the crossroads of two worlds. As your power grows, so does the tension between these two women. One promises a chance at belonging, while the other ignites a fire you didn’t know you had. But the choices you make will change everything—not just for you, but for both cities teetering on the edge of war. Who will you choose? And how much of yourself will you lose along the way?

Warnings: Violence duh, gay panic(lol), cursing, all that jazz (whatever you seen in Arcane is what you gon see here)This is also a slight AU.(She/her)

Word Count: 4k

The group moved through the undercity’s darkened alleys, shadows swallowing their movements. Jinx darted ahead with her usual restless energy, her gaze flicking over every corner for threats. Sevika moved steadily, your weight barely affecting her, while Caitlyn trailed behind, struggling to keep up in the unfamiliar terrain.

“You’re slowing us down, pilitie,” Sevika muttered over her shoulder, earning a sharp glare from Caitlyn.

“Not all of us were raised in the shadows,” Caitlyn shot back, panting slightly but refusing to falter.

“Clearly,” Sevika muttered, adjusting her hold on you.

Jinx led them to a hidden refuge in the undercity, a crumbling old warehouse that seemed abandoned from the outside but held a vibrant, chaotic energy within.

“Ekko?” Jinx called, her voice echoing through the space.

From the rafters, a figure descended, his staff clanking softly against the ground. Ekko’s eyes narrowed as he took in the group, especially Caitlyn. “What’s the Commander of Piltover doing here? Thought this was Undercity business.”

Caitlyn stepped forward. “We’re trying to save her.”

Ekko raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, his gaze shifting to Sevika. “And you’re just letting her help? That’s new.”

Sevika scoffed. “Don’t get used to it.” She set you down gently on a makeshift cot. “She’s barely keeping it together. And these two? They’re a damn circus act. We need someone who actually knows what they’re doing.”

Ekko crossed his arms, studying you. “She doesn’t look so dangerous now.”

“That’s because she’s unconscious,” Sevika muttered darkly.

Jinx shot Ekko a look. “We’re not leaving until you help. I know you’ve got connections. Heimerdinger. We need him.”

Ekko frowned, glancing at Caitlyn again. “And you trust her?”

“No,” Jinx said bluntly, before looking at you. “But I trust Spark needs this.”

Ekko sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. But if this goes sideways…”

Sevika smirked. “Trust me, kid. I’ll handle it.”

Ekko nodded, signaling one of his people to fetch Heimerdinger. As they moved to make preparations, Jinx and Caitlyn stood on opposite sides of the cot, their eyes meeting briefly before both turned their attention back to you.

Neither spoke, but the silent agreement was clear: no matter their differences, they wouldn’t let you fall.

The air in the room was heavy, charged with tension as you strained against the enhanced cuffs and binds holding you down. Your once gentle gray eyes now burned an electric purple, their light almost pulsating with raw anger. The thick straps around your wrists creaked under the pressure of your struggle, the metal glowing faintly as your energy licked against it.  

In the shadows of the room, Caitlyn and Jinx stood side by side, their usual antagonism momentarily subdued by shared apprehension. Caitlyn’s knuckles were white as she gripped the back of a chair, her usually composed face betraying a flicker of fear. Jinx, for once, was silent, her mismatched eyes darting between you and the bindings as if calculating whether she could get to you in time if things went wrong.  

Then came your voice—a guttural, unrecognizable roar that reverberated through the room.  

“LET ME OUT!” Your words were raw, primal, sending a shiver through even the bravest hearts.  

Heimerdinger stood a safe distance away, his small frame partially hidden behind a console of glowing monitors. His bushy eyebrows furrowed in deep concern as he examined readouts on your vitals and energy levels. “Fascinating… but deeply troubling,” he muttered to himself, his soft voice a stark contrast to the chaos in the room. “This level of energy output… it’s beyond shimmer. It’s something far older. Something… wrong.”  

Ekko stepped closer, his staff in hand as he tried to catch your attention. “Hey, it’s me. Look at me!” he called out, his tone firm yet familiar. “You’re stronger than this. Whatever’s going on in your head, fight it!”  

Your head snapped toward him, your glowing eyes narrowing like a predator sizing up its prey. “Fight it?” you spat, your voice low and menacing. “You think I haven’t been fighting, boy?” The last word dripped with venom, as if you didn’t recognize him at all.  

Ekko flinched but stood his ground. “This isn’t you!” he said, stepping closer despite the warning looks from Caitlyn and Jinx. “Whatever they did to you, we’ll fix it. But you have to trust us!”  

“Trust you?” You let out a bitter laugh that dissolved into a snarl. “You don’t understand a damn thing. You can’t fix what’s broken beyond repair.”  

The bindings groaned ominously as you pulled against them, your muscles trembling with the effort. Sparks of purple energy danced along your skin, sending a pulse through the room that made the hairs on everyone’s arms stand on end.  

“Spark, stop!” Ekko shouted, his voice breaking slightly.  

“Stop?” Your voice cracked with fury, tears of frustration mingling with your rage. “Why don’t you try stopping, Ekko? Why don’t you take the weight of every scream, every scar, every betrayal and carry it until it breaks you?”  

Ekko’s jaw clenched, his grip tightening on his staff. “You’re not broken,” he said, his voice softer but still resolute. “You’re just lost. But we’re here to help you find your way back.”  

Your laugh was hollow, devoid of warmth. “You think words can fix this? You think—”  

Before you could finish, a sharp cry escaped your lips, your body arching against the restraints as another surge of energy rippled through you. The purple in your eyes flickered erratically, as if something inside you was fighting to claw its way out.  

Heimerdinger approached cautiously, his voice calm but urgent. “Her condition is deteriorating. We must stabilize her before she… changes further.”  

Caitlyn and Jinx exchanged a glance, the unease in their expressions mirrored in their stiff postures.  

“We can’t just stand here,” Caitlyn said, her voice firm despite the fear lacing it.  

Jinx nodded, her usual manic energy replaced with determination. “Do what you gotta do, Furball,” she muttered, glancing at Heimerdinger. “Just don’t let her… don’t let her go.”  

Heimerdinger sighed, adjusting his goggles. “This will not be easy. Nor painless. But if we don’t act now…” He trailed off, his gaze lingering on you as you writhed in agony.  

The room fell silent except for the sound of your ragged breaths and the occasional crackle of energy. Ekko stepped back, his face set in grim determination as he prepared for whatever was to come.  

The battle wasn’t over, but the storm in your mind raged on, threatening to consume everything in its path. 

The tension in the air was palpable as Heimerdinger worked meticulously, his small hands deftly adjusting instruments and checking readouts on a glowing console. You sat restrained, your electric purple eyes glaring at him with a ferocity that made even the bravest flinch. Every attempt he made to approach you—scalpel, syringe, or scanner in hand—was met with resistance. Your muscles flexed against the enhanced binds, causing sparks to flicker in the air as your energy pulsed unpredictably.

“Hold still, my dear,” Heimerdinger said gently, his voice soothing but strained. “This is for your benefit, I assure you.”

You bared your teeth in response, a guttural growl rumbling from deep within your chest. “Get away from me.”

Ekko, standing nearby, sighed heavily and rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s not gonna make this easy, is she?” He turned to the doorway and motioned for reinforcements. Moments later, several of his Firelight companions entered the room, their expressions wary but determined. They fanned out, creating a calculated distraction, moving and speaking to pull your attention away from Heimerdinger.

It almost worked. Almost. 

The moment Heimerdinger’s needle grazed your arm, you let out a roar and pulled against the restraints with alarming strength. The chair bolted to the floor screeched as it tilted, and the binds groaned dangerously. “I said GET AWAY!” you yelled, your voice shaking the room.

Jinx and Caitlyn, both on edge from the start, looked at each other in panic. Caitlyn’s hand hovered near her rifle, while Jinx clenched her fists, her mismatched eyes wide with uncertainty.

But Jinx made her move first. Without hesitation, she darted forward and grabbed your face, her fingers cradling your jaw firmly yet gently. Her bright purple eyes locked onto yours. “Hey, hey! Look at me, Spark!” she said, her voice urgent but soothing. “It’s me. It’s Jinx. You know me.”

Your breathing hitched, the tension in your body wavering. The glow in your eyes flickered like a dying flame as you stared at her, recognition creeping through the haze of anger and confusion.

Caitlyn watched the interaction, her heart tightening painfully at the sight. She hated how easily Jinx seemed to reach you, to pull you back from the brink. But instead of giving in to her feelings, she stepped forward and took your hand in hers. “We’re here,” Caitlyn said softly, her voice steady. “Both of us. You’re not alone.”

For a moment, the energy surging around you dissipated. Your eyes softened, the electric purple dimming as you looked down at Caitlyn’s hand in yours. You felt her warmth, her presence, grounding you as much as Jinx’s touch. Slowly, your thumb brushed over Caitlyn’s knuckles, a small but deliberate gesture that spoke volumes.

Behind his console, Heimerdinger’s ears perked up as he observed the change in your vitals. “Fascinating,” he murmured before stepping forward. “Absolutely fascinating.”

He addressed the room, his voice brimming with both curiosity and sincerity. “Do you see what’s happening here? Her vitals—heart rate, energy output, neural activity—all stabilized the moment the two of you connected with her. I’ve studied countless cases of emotional grounding, but this… this is unprecedented.”

Both Jinx and Caitlyn looked at him, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern.

Heimerdinger smiled gently, his bushy eyebrows lifting. “It seems our dear Y/n has not one, but two grounding anchors. Two individuals who can pull her back from the edge. It is rare, yes, but it speaks to the depth of her connections with you both. Love, in all its forms, is a medicine more potent than any science can replicate.”

Caitlyn frowned slightly. “But how… How can she feel this way for both of us? Is that even possible?”

Heimerdinger nodded. “Oh, absolutely. The heart is not limited to singular attachments. It is vast, complex, and capable of loving in many ways. What matters is that you are both here, willing to fight for her, and that she feels the same for you.”

Jinx smirked a little, her fingers still resting on your face. “So, what? We’re her secret weapons or something?”

Heimerdinger chuckled softly. “Something like that.”

With the room calmed, Heimerdinger finally approached again, his movements careful and deliberate. This time, you didn’t resist as he drew blood, his small hands steady as he performed the procedure. Your focus was elsewhere.

Jinx began absentmindedly playing with your ear, her touch light and almost childlike in its curiosity. Your ear twitched slightly in response, and she grinned. “Still in there, huh?” she whispered.

Meanwhile, Caitlyn’s grip on your hand remained firm, her thumb tracing gentle circles over your skin. She glanced at Jinx, then back at you, her expression softening. “We’re not going anywhere,” Caitlyn said quietly, her voice meant only for you. 

And in that moment, despite everything, you felt a small flicker of peace amid the chaos. 

The laboratory buzzed faintly with the hum of machinery, the sterile lights overhead casting a pale glow across the expansive room. You sat in the center, still restrained for everyone’s safety. Heimerdinger busied himself with his instruments, carefully analyzing samples and running tests. Your breathing was more even now, though every so often, your purple-tinged eyes flickered with residual energy.

As Heimerdinger spoke to himself in scientific jargon, Jinx and Caitlyn sat together on the far side of the room. While their bodies were angled away from each other, their voices carried enough venom to cut glass.

“I’m just saying,” Jinx began with a smirk, her tone saccharine and laced with mockery, “if you really cared about her, you wouldn’t have shoved her in that tower like some kind of prize.”

Caitlyn, sitting primly but clearly seething, shot back, “And if you cared, you wouldn’t have dragged her into the undercity chaos, where she’s been poisoned and manipulated by people like Silco and Singed.”

Jinx leaned forward, her mismatched eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, you mean the chaos that she saved you from how many times? Oh right—every time. Face it, Cupcake, you wouldn’t last a day down there without her.”

Caitlyn’s composure cracked just slightly, her cheeks coloring as she snapped, “And you wouldn’t last a moment up here without her being the only reason anyone tolerates you.”

The insults grew sharper, cutting deeper with each exchange, each laced with truths neither was willing to admit. Yet, beneath the barbs, it was clear—they both cared for you deeply, in ways they couldn’t bear to articulate without the armor of sarcasm or anger.

In the middle of their back-and-forth, your low, raspy voice broke the tension. “Water.”

Both women froze, their gazes snapping to you. For a moment, there was silence as they processed the sound of your voice, the first sign of normalcy since your collapse.

Ekko, standing nearby and visibly relieved by your request, stepped forward with a cup of water. “Here,” he said gently, carefully bringing it to your lips.

You drank slowly, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat. Once finished, you met Ekko’s eyes and sighed, your voice quieter now but laced with sincerity. “I’m… sorry. About earlier.”

Ekko shifted awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, well… I’ve heard worse. We’re good.” He hesitated, then added, “I’m just glad you’re coming back to yourself.”

You nodded, the weight of everything pressing heavily on your restrained body. “Me too.”

As the room settled into a quieter rhythm, Heimerdinger approached with a datapad, his small face drawn with a mix of concern and fascination. “My dear,” he began, looking at you over the rim of his glasses, “I’ve uncovered something extraordinary—and troubling.”

Everyone leaned in, their attention shifting to the Yordle. “You were subjected to an early prototype of what would eventually become Shimmer,” Heimerdinger explained, his voice grave. “Long before it was weaponized and mass-produced, it seems Singed was experimenting with enhancing human biology at a fundamental level. You were one of his earliest subjects.”

Jinx stiffened at the mention of Singed, her fingers curling into fists. Caitlyn’s face darkened as she absorbed the implications.

“You mean… she’s been like this since she was a baby?” Jinx asked, her voice uncharacteristically quiet.

Heimerdinger nodded solemnly. “Yes. Her physiology has been altered at a cellular level. The energy surges, the heightened aggression, even the physical changes—it all stems from this early experimentation. It’s remarkable that she’s maintained her humanity as much as she has.”

Caitlyn frowned deeply, her hand curling into a fist. “Is there a way to reverse it?”

“That,” Heimerdinger said, his voice laced with regret, “is something I cannot yet answer. But I will do everything in my power to find a solution.”

As Heimerdinger continued his analysis, you caught sight of Jinx and Caitlyn throwing wary glances at each other. Their earlier insults lingered in the air, but there was a strange, reluctant truce forming. Despite their differences—and their undeniable rivalry—they both wanted to help you.

Ekko lingered nearby, watching silently, as you leaned back into the chair, the weight of their care and the revelations sinking into your already taxed mind.

The lab was tense, the air thick with unease as Heimerdinger’s instruments blared an urgent warning. Everyone’s attention snapped to the flashing screen as the old yordle worked furiously at his station. “Her neural activity is spiking! Someone is attempting to manipulate her memories—no, her entire sense of self.”

The room dimmed further as the screen lit up, showing fragmented images—your memories, flickering and disjointed, projected for all to see.

Singed’s voice slithered through the speakers, low and taunting. “Spark… always so resistant. But you were made for this. You were mine before you even knew yourself.”

The name sent a bolt of panic through you. Restrained as you were, your body jolted, muscles straining against the cuffs. The memories began to play in vivid detail.

The first scene was the bridge. A younger version of you, no older than eight, clung to a man with dark eyes and a soft, protective voice. “Run, Spark!” he shouted over the chaos, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly. His face was lined with desperation and love.

“I’ll find you,” he promised, his voice cracking as an explosion rocked the bridge. “I’ll always find you.”

Tears blurred your vision in the memory as you turned and ran. Another explosion threw you off your feet, the shockwave sending you hurtling off the edge of the bridge into the abyss below. The memory twisted with your present scream, a feral, guttural sound that echoed through the lab.

“Who is that?” Caitlyn asked, her voice tight, as she watched the memory unfold. “That man…”

Heimerdinger didn’t answer, his focus on stabilizing the feed.

The scene shifted, colors swirling into a hazy glow before sharpening into a dimly lit workshop in the Undercity. Silco’s face appeared, calm and calculating as he introduced a small, nervous girl with big, expressive eyes—Powder.

“You’ll work together,” Silco said, his tone like a command disguised as a suggestion. “Spark, meet Powder. Powder, meet Spark. Together, you’ll survive this world.”

The memory’s viewpoint shifted as you timidly held out your hand, your young voice trembling. “Hi.”

Powder’s eyes brightened, her hand reaching out to grasp yours. The contact was electric, a sudden flash of warmth and connection filling your chest. The memory lingered on the way her small smile grew, and even through the manipulation, you felt the same ache of love that you’d always carried for her.

Jinx’s breath hitched as she watched, her face unreadable. Ekko murmured softly, “So that’s when it started…”

The memory flickered violently, then reassembled into a much later scene. Piltover. A pristine, sunlit street. You were older now, more guarded, but your eyes softened as they landed on someone.

Caitlyn.

The memory showed her standing confidently, issuing orders to her fellow officers. Your heart raced even in recollection, and the memory zoomed in on the way her lips moved, the way she carried herself. You didn’t even realize you’d been staring until she turned and caught your gaze.

“Can I help you?” her voice rang out in the memory, tinged with polite suspicion.

You fumbled with a response, but her directness had stunned you. She arched a brow, her lips twitching in a faint smile, as if amused by your hesitation.

The colors surrounding the memory brightened, flickering in the same vivid hues that had appeared in your interactions with Jinx. This time, the connection was undeniable. Even in the memory, your heart clenched, the depth of your feelings surging to the surface.

Caitlyn’s hand flew to her mouth as she watched. “That was the first time we met…” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You—” Her words caught, the realization dawning in her eyes.

The memories continued, bouncing between moments with Jinx and Caitlyn. The nights spent with Jinx, laughing as she rambled about her creations. The quiet conversations with Caitlyn in the aftermath of missions, where her steady presence had grounded you. The vivid emotions in each memory were palpable, displayed for everyone to see—the warmth, the longing, the unspoken love you had for both of them.

Jinx shifted uncomfortably, her gaze darting to Caitlyn. “So… what, we’re both your favorites?” she muttered, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the hurt and confusion in her voice.

Heimerdinger’s voice broke through. “Fascinating. Remarkable, even. It’s exceedingly rare for one individual to find such grounding in another. But two? Your connections to both of them are what’s anchoring you now, keeping you from succumbing to this manipulation entirely.”

He turned to Jinx and Caitlyn, his expression solemn. “You may not like it, but both of you are vital to her recovery. Without your support, the bond she has with you, she may lose this battle.”

Another violent shift occurred as the screen showed a fragmented image of Singed’s lab. His voice echoed again, chilling and familiar. “You cannot fight what you are, Spark. You belong to this.”

The screen flickered with more chaotic flashes of childhood memories, the Undercity, and the bridge. Heimerdinger’s face grew graver as he worked to sever the link. “We’re running out of time,” he said urgently. “Her mind is fracturing. The Arcane is the only chance we have left to stabilize her.”

The argument resumed immediately.

Caitlyn was the first to speak. “It’s too dangerous! You’re talking about tampering with something we barely understand. She could die!”

Jinx crossed her arms, glaring at the yordle. “Yeah, no thanks. We’re not turning her into some science experiment. She’s been through enough.”

Heimerdinger attempted to placate them. “If we don’t act now, the manipulation will consume her entirely. The Arcane isn’t just dangerous—it’s necessary.”

The shouting rose, but you barely heard it. Singed’s voice still echoed in your head, growing louder. The name Spark reverberated like a drumbeat. Finally, through gritted teeth, you forced out, “I’ll do it.”

The room fell silent, all eyes turning to you.

“I’ll do it,” you repeated, more firmly this time. “If it’s the only way to stop this… I’ll take the risk.”

Before anyone could protest further, Heimerdinger’s instruments began to flash with new urgency. He turned back to his monitor, his ears flattening in alarm. “We’re too late. The link is strengthening—he’s trying to take full control.”

The screen crackled, showing a warped and twisted view of your memories. Singed’s face loomed large, a sinister smile stretching across his face as the connection deepened. The colors around you swirled chaotically, bright and disorienting.

Your screams pierced through the walls, reverberating in the hollow space. Memories, real and fabricated, crashed through your mind like violent waves. The final blow came in the form of a vision so visceral, so cruel, it shattered you completely. You saw them—Caitlyn and Jinx—on their knees, blood pooling beneath their bodies as Singed’s voice whispered in your mind, “You couldn’t save them… You were never meant to.” 

The vision played in slow, agonizing detail. Caitlyn, her azure eyes wide with pain and terror, mouthing words you couldn’t hear. Jinx, defiant even in her last moments, reaching for you with a trembling hand before collapsing. And you? You were frozen, powerless, a specter unable to act.

The room fell into chaos.

You let out a guttural roar, feral and heart-wrenching, as your body surged against the restraints. The cuffs groaned under your strength, the binds barely holding. Heimerdinger shouted over the chaos, “Her vitals are critical! We’re losing her!” Sparks erupted from the equipment as your erratic energy surged into the room.

Jinx was frozen in place, her wide eyes reflecting your torment. Caitlyn staggered back, slapping her hand over her mouth as tears streamed down her face. “No… No, this isn’t happening,” she whispered.

Ekko, wide-eyed and pale, looked between you and the others. “We have to do something!”

“No!” Jinx finally screamed, snapping out of her stupor. “She’s not gone yet! I—”

Ekko didn’t wait. Amid the panic, he sprinted toward the Arcane prototype stimulant. Ignoring Heimerdinger’s frantic protests, he grabbed the glowing syringe. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, mostly to himself, as he moved to your side.

“No!” Caitlyn shouted, stepping forward to stop him, but Ekko was faster. He drove the stimulant deep into your chest, his hands trembling as he pushed the plunger down.

The room fell silent.

Your body arched violently as the Arcane energy surged through you, lighting up your veins like molten fire. Jinx froze, her lips parted in shock. Caitlyn stumbled back again, her hands shaking as she reached for the wall to steady herself. Heimerdinger gasped, his ears twitching, as the monitors blared a high-pitched warning.

Ekko stood in front of you, his face pale but resolute. “Come on… come on…” he whispered. But as your body fell limp against the restraints, the glow in your eyes didn’t fade to their soft gray—it extinguished entirely.

Your head slumped forward, the hollow vacancy in your eyes making it seem like you were… gone.

_______________

mmmmmhm, yup.

[moralesmilesanhour]

looking the part

description: a college AU one-shot wherein Ekko watches you get ready for an end-of-semester celebration with some of Piltover's finest. wc: 572 tags: canon divergent-ish, ekko x black!reader a/n: wanted to try my hand at writing for Arcane characters :) the original rough draft was twice as long as what you see here lol

A calm quiet settled over your small single room.

Ekko watched idly as you attempted to wind your braids around your head in a large, elaborate bun. Still barefoot, you were half-dressed in a smart-looking white blouse (complete with a golden brooch that had moving mechanical wings), and a long black skirt that revealed your brown legs through two high slits.

“You look like Medarda,” he commented from his spot on your bed, chin resting in his palm. He had no plans tonight that did not include a long nap, and was appropriately dressed for the occasion in a white tank top and gray sweats.

The bun seemed to remain stable as you slowly removed your hands. You grinned into the dirty dorm room mirror at your triumph.

“That's the idea.”

“You want to look like a topside politician?”

The bun quickly collapsed when you whipped around to face him. He had that ‘be serious’ look on his face, a dark brow lifted in skepticism.

You crossed your arms.

“Ekko, don't start. It's just an end-of-semester party, and I'd like to look the part. That's all it is!”

Ekko put his free hand up in surrender.

“I'm just saying, I don't see the point in spending your whole night schmoozing when you’dve already got Viktor vouching for you.”

The space beside him sank a bit once you joined him on the mattress, and he sat up to accommodate. You stuck out your lips in a pout.

“Says the guy who scored an internship with Heimerdinger.”

Ekko retorted without missing a beat, “And do you see me copying his drip?”

The image of Ekko dressed head-to-toe in Piltie jewelry and double-breasted vests made you giggle.

“Never in a million years.”

“Exactly.”

“But that's not the same thing!” You pushed him by the shoulder, “I just think her hair's cute.”

He reached over to push a stray braid out of your face, the tips of his calloused fingers brushing your cheek as he did so. You watched him watch you, intently.

His clear brown eyes sparkled where the low desk light hit them, the same way they did the day you first met at one of Heimerdinger’s guest lectures. Ekko had raised his hand—the only one to do so—and asked some out-of-left-field questions about whether Hextech was especially vulnerable to ‘bad actors’ under council jurisdiction and whatnot.

Expecting him to struggle to be heard in that giant lecture hall, the ring of his voice cutting through the air, uninhibited and impolite, sent a shock through your system. It also sent the professor on a very long tangent on the dangers of the Arcane when left in the wrong hands, and you could've sworn you heard a snicker or two coming from Ekko’s direction when he had to be interrupted because class time had all but run out.

You stopped him before class ended, and awkwardly asked him if he had really bleached his hair to be that stark white color. He laughed, and invited you to lunch not long after.

“I could do you one better,” he suggested, snapping you out of your thoughts. He made a circular gesture around his head. “How ‘bout a crown?”

“Hm,” you pretended to think, though you were already moving to settle yourself in between his knees. “Do I get to borrow your earrings? Y’know, complete the look.”

A long sigh.

“Alright, but you better not lose ‘em.”

-

Hi! Thank you for making it this far. Pls feel free to reblog and leave feedback in replies/tags, and check out my pinned post if you're curious about me or other stuff I've written :) Have a nice day/night

[bratdotcom]

Life Goes On

( viktor x reader - pre!arcane )

Upper-class chatter has never made Viktor feel so out of place until now. Professor Heimerdinger wanted him to branch out and get to know the people of the city. Not only for his sake, but for the sake of the academy's name being known.

After attempting to give a coherent speech about his newest invention, he grabs his crutch and walks off stage as professional as he could, Viktor could feel the disapproving eyes of potential investors on him already. Perhaps it was because of his origins from Zaun. Or the fact that he needed a cane to support himself.

An infinite amount of possibilities that he didn't need to think about. That he didn't want to think about.

Either way, he found more comfort outside than inside, his cane resting against smooth stone to support his aching back. The garden's calming ambiance soothed his nerves.

Viktor lets out a sigh,using his pointer and thumb to rub the tiredness from his heavy lids.

"Do you know who's statue you're loitering against?"

The voice's suddenness almost catches Viktor off guard. He sits up more properly now, his right leg pointing outward on the heel of his shoe.

His left leg in front of him to make him seem more proper in front of this unassuming stranger.

Although he felt like an absolute fool, he wasn't going to look like one in front of Piltover's elite.

He scans your face with those eyes of his. They narrow as he searches for some sort of familiarity in your features. Surely, he recognized you from somewhere. Viktor felt like he's seen you before.

He replies back cautiously, pulling his gaze away only to look at the sculpture. "No, I don't...care to enlighten me?" he tilts his head as he stares holes into you without knowing.

"Well," you tilt your head to the side and shrug.

"That's why I asked you."

Viktor huffs in amusement at that, disarmed at your honesty. That was something he didn't see every day.

"You're definitely smarter than most of the people back there." You say back instead of answering his question properly. He can already tell you had a knack for avoiding questions, which intrigued him greatly.

You tread closer to where he sat, dress shoes clunking against the cobblestone floor.

Just who were you exactly?

He perks up in posture as you plop down next to him onto the raised pedestal. He grabs his cane and keeps it close to him, putting it in between his knees.

"You don't have to do that." You say, eyes going from his shoes to his face. "I'm not like them."

Your words linger in his ears. They ring as though in tune with the chimes of the bell tower just beyond the garden gates, signaling the passage of another hour within the City of Progress.

"Like them?" he repeats, looking at your face again. Still, he can't remember where he's seen you. "I don't think you're any much different from us. We all share one thing in common, don't we?"

"That being..?" he trails off expectantly, more intrigued than before.

"The desire to do good." You reply simply, once again, catching him completely off guard. Viktor watches as your eyes shine as you ask him a question he doesn't quite catch. "You have it, no?"

When he catches himself staring, Viktor fixes his gaze onto something else. He stares at a nearby street sign that he's seen millions of times before.

"You're odd." he says in response, flattening out the collar of his shirt.

"So? You're odd, too."

Viktor scoffs again, his tired gaze softening. You were right. You, a complete, utter stranger, were right.

He finally says the question that's been on his mind the second he's laid eyes on you. He had to know.

Instead of saying it the way he thought of it in his head, his words come out much more rude than intended.

"Just who are you anyway?" He asks, still trying to recognize your features. To his surprise, you take his question well.

Your family name alone probably had more influence over him any day of the week. Compared to you, he was a nobody.

And yet here you were, talking to him as though he were your equal.

"A silk merchant in training." You answer the tips of your dress shoes pointing towards the floor.

Viktor recognizes you now, his tired eyes widening.

He asks another question quieter now, looking down at his shoes and yours. His scuffed ones and your cleaned ones. "You were there, weren't you?" He says softly.

"Where?"

"When I did my first speech. The one where I accidentally erased an equation on the board with my sleeve. You were in the crowd."

You let Viktor go on, you listen intently, palms pressed against the clean marble of the pedestal. Fingers on the edge, just as you were, as you waited for Viktor to piece two and two together. Like a true inventor.

"You looked at me as though..." Viktor pauses, staring down at his shoes. “As though I was a person. A real person. Not an investment to be made."

Viktor finally looks at you again. His eyes wander in an attempt to find his words.

"You actually...listened to me. You..cared. You cared about what I had to say."

His eyes set on you again.

"And I still do."

You reply, the memory of that day still fresh on your mind. You remember it vividly, the fervor in his tone, as he explained the mechanisms of a device you really didn't understand. His sleeve, accidentally brushing away hours worth of important equations and diagrams. You remember the way his eyes stopped shining when the room filled with small, barely hidden laughs.

Just as you did in that room, you listened. Just as you were doing now.