#Viktor needs that energy in his life

[dirtytransmasc]

I think I need MelVik connecting when Viktor was on his sick bed. they had been amicable before, maybe a little more than that due to their connection through Jayce and her presence around Hextech and such. but they weren't entirely friends. not yet.

and she goes to see him. perhaps she feels a tinge of guilt at assuming the worst about Jayce, or her bleeding heart makes her feel responsible for keeping Jayce out of the lab when Viktor had needed him. maybe Jayce needs to step out for a moment, and she soothes his worry by promising to sit with Viktor. maybe she just wants to be closer to the man that's so painfully important to the one she loves, wants to befriend him, wants to know him, all before it's far too late.

maybe it's a little bit of each.

but she goes to see him. she sits in the chair that Jayce has nearly worn a hole through, and keeps a semi-awkward distance between them, not knowing what is too close and too far.

this man is dying. he is dying and he has accepted that. he looks like a corpse. cold emanates off of him. he is something she doesn't fully understand.

she doesn't know how to approach.

but she does.

she greets softly and speaks softly and hesitates to touch, but rests a hand over Viktor's and feels how cold he is, even as a sickly warmth brews in his bones, leeching the warmth from his skin and the energy from his body.

he seems surprised she's there. it feels out of place. like the song and dance of their dynamic has shifted, and now he needs to relearn the steps. and now this is a dance of two, not three.

she will tell Viktor, in enough detail to be understood and not enough to be awkward, where Jayce was. because it feels right to confess. it's not an apology, but the avoidance of keeping something like a secret from a dying man.

Viktor will probably just nod and say something self deprecating, because what else do you say when your body is already making a joke of itself? before assuring her that Jayce is not his keeper, that she is not to blame, but even that comes off as some twisted attempt at humor. sue him for being sardonic as he lay dying.

but unlike Jayce, who will cringe at the jokes, she will hide a smile behind her fingers, muffling a soft, if not saddened, chuckle in her palm.

Viktor's eyes will light up ever so slightly.

she'll feel awkward once more. should she have laughed? was this playing into a complex? was this right of her?

Viktor will smile weakly.

she'll feel a little less awkward.

she will realize Viktor needs someone to laugh with. that Jayce, bless his soul, cannot be that person for Viktor. his worry has brewed too long. it's too strong.

but maybe a fresh face like Mel's can be there to smile when Jayce cannot. will laugh when Jayce cannot. can make cheeky jokes and pokes and prods.

the three fit together like 3 pieces of 3 broken puzzles. they fit together, not perfectly, but they fit, and create a finished object, even if off kilter her and uneven there. but it's ok, they're making due.

[kirammanswifey]

arcane characters when they're jealous x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: i really loveddd writing this, just imaginating each scenario was so satisfying, silco's and viktor's were my favorites. i loooove viktor so much i could write about that man each day of my life and never be get tired of it. btw request are open! ;)

Viktor

The lab was especially lively that afternoon, with new ideas flowing among the team. You were conversing with a new colleague, a young enthusiast who seemed to have a knack for understanding complex concepts. His questions and comments kept you engaged, and you couldn't help but smile at his contagious energy.

From his desk, Viktor occasionally glanced up, observing the interaction. At first, he seemed focused on his own calculations, but every time your laughter echoed through the space, his hands paused over the paper, and his gaze slightly hardened.

After a while, he stood up with his careful stride and approached you and your colleague, placing a hand on the edge of the table where you were working.

"Excuse me, could you come with me for a moment? There's something we need to review together," Viktor said, his tone polite but with a firmness that didn't go unnoticed.

"Of course, Viktor, give me a second," you replied, finishing explaining one last detail before turning to him.

Viktor waited for you to stand up and guided you back to his desk. When you both were seated, he leaned slightly toward you, his eyes searching yours.

"It seemed like you were quite involved in your conversation," he commented, trying to maintain a casual tone but failing to hide the hint of jealousy in his gaze.

"I was just explaining some of the previous projects," you said, gently touching his hand to calm him. "Nothing I can't share with you."

Viktor nodded, relaxing slightly at your touch, but he didn't let the subject drop so easily.

"I'm glad to hear that. Sometimes, it's easy to forget that there are things only we share, isn't it?"

His voice was soft, but the intensity of his words made your heart beat a little faster. You knew Viktor rarely showed his emotions so openly, and seeing that protective side of him was something you couldn't ignore.

"Viktor," you said, smiling and intertwining your fingers with his. "You know you're always the first person I think of when something excites me. No one can replace you."

The shadow of jealousy that had been haunting him slowly faded, replaced by a slight smile that barely curved his lips. Viktor leaned in a bit more, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek, a caress that spoke of the trust he had in you.

"I know," he whispered. "I just needed to remind myself."

Jinx

The air in the Undercity was thick with smoke and raucous laughter as you made your way into an underground club with Jinx. The vibrant music filled the space, and the crowd moved like a wild tide. You had come with Jinx to get distracted, but soon found yourself caught up in a conversation with an old acquaintance. His words were lively, but your attention was divided between him and the flashes of blue in the background, where Jinx was watching.

Jinx stayed in the shadows, her bright blue eyes shining intensely as she watched you laugh and chat with someone else. Her jaw was tense, and her fingers nervously played with a grenade she had pulled from her belt. Jealousy boiled inside her, mixed with a latent fear that she might lose you.

When the man placed a hand on your arm to emphasize his point, Jinx could no longer hold herself back. She cut through the crowd with the agility of a predator, her presence drawing attention as she advanced toward you.

"Hey! How about you get lost before things get ugly?" Jinx interrupted the conversation with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, her voice laden with a barely concealed threat.

The man quickly stepped away, recognizing the danger in Jinx's tone. He had barely disappeared into the crowd when Jinx grabbed your wrist, pulling you toward a less crowded corner of the club.

"What the hell was that?" you asked, surprised by her abruptness.

Jinx stared at you, her eyes reflecting a storm of emotions. "I didn’t like how he looked at you. I didn’t like how he touched you. You’re mine, understand? Only mine."

The intensity in her voice took your breath away. It was as if her whole world revolved around you, and the idea of sharing you with someone else drove her mad.

"Jinx..." you began, trying to calm her, but she was already moving closer, her hands on your hips, pressing you against the wall.

"I don’t care if I’m too much. I don’t care if you think I’m crazy. I can’t stand the idea of someone else trying to have what’s mine," she whispered, her lips inches from yours.

"Jinx," you said softly, cupping her face in your hands. "I understand how you feel, but you can't act like this or treat people that way. You have to trust me. I’ll never leave you, but you have to believe in us. You have to believe in me."

Her eyes softened for a moment, and she nodded slightly, her breathing still heavy but beginning to calm.

Her words were a whirlwind of passion and possessiveness, and before you could respond, her lips found yours in a fierce kiss, filled with need and latent desperation. Her body trembled against yours, and you felt the chaos of her emotions spilling into every movement.

When she finally pulled away, her eyes searched yours, pleading and vulnerable. "Promise me you'll always stay with me. That you’ll never let anyone come between us."

"Jinx, I could never want anyone else," you said, stroking her cheek gently. "I’m here, and I always will be."

Jinx closed her eyes, resting her forehead against yours as her breathing steadied. "I love you... too much."

Vi

The atmosphere in the alley was charged with electricity. The crowd gathered around the makeshift fight ring, silently placing bets as they watched the imminent confrontation. You knew what Vi did, what she had done her entire life. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, and anticipation wrapped around her like a shadow. But this time, something was different.

Beside you, Vi was ready, her gloves tightened, muscles tense beneath her shirt. The fierce look she shot at the man in front of her was nothing new; they had seen it dozens of times. But this time, something shifted in the air. Maybe it was the way she glanced at you, as if trying to make sure you were okay before the fight began. But you knew the man facing her wasn’t just another opponent. He was a guy with bad intentions and an overly confident smirk.

"Hey there, pretty," the man approached you with a smooth tone, his gaze far too bold as he caught you off guard. "Surely, you’ve got more to offer than just standing here watching your girl fight, right? Why don’t you come with me after this? I can make you forget all this chaos."

You didn’t expect that attitude, and your discomfort was evident, though you didn’t want to make a scene. You tried to keep calm, but the weight of the situation crept over you. However, before you could respond, the man gave your arm a touch, seeking your attention, breaking your personal space.

Vi didn’t think for another second.

With a low growl, like a caged beast, she approached him. Her eyes gleamed with fury, her body tense, ready to strike, but before she could, the man sneered.

"What’s the matter, sweetheart? Bothered by a little distraction?" the man taunted, his tone more provoking than sympathetic, as if testing how far Vi’s patience could stretch.

"I suggest you walk away," Vi snarled, the rage bubbling in her voice, as she stepped closer, her muscles marking a clear threat that she wouldn’t let anyone touch what was hers. But the man didn’t give her the chance to do anything. With a provoking smile, he tried to step closer to you, completely ignoring Vi.

Before he could get any nearer, Vi shoved him back with a sharp punch that echoed through the place. "I’m the only one who touches her!" Vi’s voice boomed with such intensity that the air seemed to freeze.

The crowd shuddered, expectant. The guy, who thought his attitude could intimidate, now found himself cornered by Vi’s fierce rivalry, his previously confident eyes now filled with a mix of surprise and fear.

"I told you to walk away," Vi repeated, her tone so grave that the man had no choice but to retreat.

The fight began.

The crowd dispersed as the bets continued, but Vi saw nothing beyond her target. Every punch she threw at her opponent was filled with fury. She wasn’t just fighting for money or respect; she was fighting for you. The idea of someone daring to look at you, touch you, think they could make you theirs, drove her to lose control in a dangerous way.

The man tried to fight back, but Vi, with her agility and strength, knocked him down once again, this time with a punch so powerful that the sound of the impact echoed in everyone’s ears. In seconds, he was already on the ground, defeated, and Vi stared down at him before turning toward you.

Your heart pounded as you watched the scene. Vi was drenched in sweat, breathing heavily, but her gaze was solely on you.

Vi walked toward you with the swagger of someone who had just won, her smile full of pride.

"Did you enjoy the show?" she asked, her tone softer but still carrying a hint of challenge.

"You really love putting on a show, don’t you?" you responded sarcastically, a playful smirk forming as you wrapped your arms around her.

Vi leaned in, her eyes darkening with intensity. "It’s not about the show," she murmured, her voice low and fierce. "I can’t stand anyone touching you or even thinking they can get close to you."

A grin tugged at your lips. "I love it when you get possessive," you whispered, your gaze locked with hers.

Vi’s expression shifted to one of amused delight before she pulled you into a wild, passionate kiss. "You’re mine," she growled against your lips, the ferocity of her claim sending a shiver down your spine.

You kissed her back just as fiercely, your hands tangling in her hair. "And you’re mine," you declared, your voice firm with equal possessiveness. The world around you faded into irrelevance, leaving only the two of you, caught in a storm of desire and fierce loyalty.

Caitlyn

The elegant gala in Piltover had unfolded without incident, as expected from an event of such magnitude. The city's high society was enjoying the evening, and you, as a special guest, were no exception. Caitlyn, always poised and reserved, had invited you to accompany her, and in her role as hostess, she was the center of many conversations. However, your presence hadn’t gone unnoticed by a few.

The soft murmur of conversation turned into something more charged when a man you hadn’t seen before approached with a calculated smile. Clearly part of the elite, he had an impeccable demeanor and the gaze of someone who knew how to get what he wanted.

"Excuse me, I couldn’t help but notice how stunning you look tonight," the man said, smiling with a tone as smooth as it was dangerous. "I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you, but I believe I’d like to. Would you care to join me for a quieter drink? Perhaps we could find a more secluded spot to chat."

You quickly noticed his tone was more than a simple invitation, bordering on an insinuation that made you uncomfortable. You tried to smile politely, but before you could respond, you felt Caitlyn’s presence next to you.

Caitlyn’s response was cold as ice, but instead of speaking, she closed the distance between you and her with a grace that turned every head in the room. She placed a gentle yet firm hand on your waist, pulling you close, and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. The simple act silenced the murmurs around you, establishing her claim without a single word.

Turning to the man, Caitlyn’s voice was soft but carried a steely edge. "My partner isn’t interested in your offer," she said with a calm, unwavering gaze that could cut glass.

The man’s smile faltered but quickly returned, broader and more calculated. "Surely, she can speak for herself. Maybe she’s just being polite."

Caitlyn’s expression didn’t waver, but there was a glint of sharp amusement in her eyes. "I won’t repeat myself. The invitation is declined," she said, her voice like silk wrapped around steel. She took a step closer, her eyes narrowing slightly as she continued, "And I’ve heard whispers about certain irregularities in your financial dealings. I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to take a closer look, would you?"

The man's face paled as the words settled in, his bravado crumbling under the weight of Caitlyn’s veiled threat. Without another word, he mumbled an apology and quickly melted back into the crowd.

Once he was out of sight, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly. "You can be a bit extreme sometimes, you know that?"

Caitlyn turned to you, her eyes softening as a small smile curved her lips. "When it comes to you, I’ll do anything. I would go to any lengths for you."

Caitlyn’s words hung in the air, and without another thought, she gently pressed her forehead against yours, closing her eyes in a quiet, tender moment. The world around you seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you in the stillness. It was a gesture of love, of connection, so intimate that nothing else mattered. Slowly, she whispered, "I love you."

"I love you too," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you held her close, both of you savoring the shared warmth and affection.

After a beat, you pulled back slightly, your eyes glinting with mischief. "But the event must go on, right? You can’t let one old, pretentious, corrupt man ruin your mood."

Caitlyn chuckled softly, the faintest blush rising on her cheeks as she glanced away, clearly embarrassed by the playful suggestion. "You really know how to make me laugh," she said, a genuine smile pulling at her lips as her usual composure returned.

"You have to show them how well Caitlyn Kiramman performs as a host," you teased, your voice playful. "A night like this is your stage, and that man doesn’t deserve to ruin the performance. Besides, you can’t let anyone think they can just mess with you."

Her laughter filled the air, and Caitlyn couldn’t help but shake her head at your teasing, the blush still present on her cheeks. Taking your arm with an elegant, almost theatrical gesture, she smiled at you. "Alright, let’s show them how it’s done," she said, the regal composure she always exuded returning in full force.

As you both walked away, side by side, the night unfolded once more, but it was clear—nothing, not even the interruption of a rude guest, could take away from the quiet, unspoken bond between the two of you.

Jayce

The night stretched on, filled with bright lights, laughter, and glasses of wine being raised in what seemed to be an exclusive gala of Piltover's high society. The crowd, elegant and wealthy, flowed through the hallways, engaging in lively conversations about scientific and political advancements, but you couldn’t help feeling out of place amidst so much luxury.

Jayce, always by your side, looked every bit the perfect gentleman in his perfectly tailored suit, smiling, but with a slight shadow of concentration that betrayed the way he observed the surroundings. As if he were seeing beyond the faces, detecting every detail. His fingers rested gently on your lower back as he guided you through the crowd, protecting you from any uncomfortable glance or word.

“Come on, it’s fine,” he said, smiling at you tenderly. “Just a little more patience, then we’ll leave.”

Before you could respond, a man, someone who clearly wasn’t unfamiliar to you due to his overly flashy style and even more obvious intentions, arrogantly approached, interrupting your conversation with Jayce.

“What a pleasure to see you here. The beauty of Piltover doesn’t stop at inventions, does it?” the man said in an excessively flattering tone, his eyes clearly evaluating you in an uncomfortable way. The way he approached wasn’t that of a friend or acquaintance, but rather of someone who was clearly interested in something more. He came too close, not to greet you in a friendly manner, but as if he were recruiting you for something you didn’t want.

You felt the growing discomfort in your chest. But before you could say anything, you felt Jayce’s presence beside you. Somehow, without the man saying another word, the space between him and you seemed to shrink. Jayce didn’t show aggression, but the aura of power that emanated from him was enough to make anyone think twice before continuing.

“Well, who would have thought tonight’s gala would be so… interesting?” Jayce said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, observing the man as if evaluating him from head to toe. “I wonder if your compliments are as easy to come by as they seem, or if it’s simply an innate talent of yours.”

The man stood silent for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Jayce wasn’t looking at him with disdain, but with a smile that was almost kind, though it left no room for doubt: he wasn’t welcome.

“You know,” Jayce continued in a soft voice, but with a hint of mischief that only he knew how to wield, “I think my lady here, doesn’t need any more empty compliments from someone who’s only interested in the surface. She’s here for her intelligence, for what she brings to the city. And I think that… is far more attractive than any cheap remark you could make.”

The man, caught by Jayce’s passive-aggressive tone, hurried to apologize and walked away, unsure of how to defend himself against the elegant subtlety with which Jayce had disarmed him.

Once the politician had gone, Jayce turned to you with a warmer smile, his eyes softening when he saw that you had remained silent, a little tense from the exchange.

“I’m sorry,” he said gently, caressing your arm delicately. “I don’t like it when you’re bothered, but you know I won’t let someone so… bland… get close to you like that.”

You smiled, relieved by his intervention but also a little overwhelmed by how perceptive he had been. “Thank you, Jayce. I didn’t know how… to handle the situation.”

He smiled tenderly, his eyes shining with confidence, as always. “You don’t have to,” he said as he got closer, gently cupping your face. He looked at you intently, and without warning, placed a soft kiss on your cheek, the gesture so full of affection that it made your heart skip a beat.

“But if you ever need help getting someone to leave you alone, you know I’ll always be here,” he said, his voice filled with sweetness and protection.

And as you continued walking through the gala, with the gentleness of his touch and his firm presence, you felt that, despite the challenges you sometimes faced, you had someone who knew how to handle any situation without losing his class or his affection.

Ekko

You're walking through the streets of the Undercity, a place known both for its decadent beauty and constant danger. Today seems to be one of those days when the city has a somewhat more chaotic air, but somehow, you feel more at peace than ever with him by your side. Ekko, as always, accompanies you with his relaxed attitude and that confident smile that rarely disappears from his face.

Suddenly, an unknown man appears out of nowhere, interrupting your conversation with Ekko. He gives you a blatant, shameless look, approaching you with the obvious intention of grabbing your attention. He’s the type who clearly believes he can have you with just a few words.

“Well, what do we have here?” he says, with a smug smile. “A beauty like you around here? I can’t imagine why someone so special is wasting their time with a guy like him.” He looks at Ekko, then shifts his gaze back to you. “I’m sure you and I could do great things together. What do you say? I could show you what it really means to live.”

Before you can respond, you notice Ekko, apparently unfazed by the situation. He stops, lets out a light laugh, and approaches, observing the guy with an expression that clearly shows he’s taking the situation as a joke.

“Seriously?” Ekko says in a playful tone, as if he were watching some kind of comedy show. “So, you’re offering my girl ‘what it really means to live’? Let me tell you something, buddy: if she really looked at you, you’d know you’re not even close to being ‘a big deal.’”

The stranger stands there a bit stunned, clearly not expecting such a direct response. Ekko continues, not wasting a second. “You know what? Don’t worry, I won’t waste your time. I’m sure you and your ‘great proposals’ have an audience somewhere else, but… seriously, I recommend you stop wasting your breath here.”

The guy seems confused, and seeing that Ekko isn’t remotely jealous or concerned, he tries to change his tactic. “Come on, don’t be like that, I was just being nice. I’m sure you don’t mind a little competition, right?”

Ekko looks at him with a wide grin, but it’s clear he’s taking nothing seriously. “Competition? Was that a threat or a joke? Because, seriously, if you thought I’d be worried, I think you’ve misunderstood everything. I don’t know if you’re used to dealing with people who don’t know what they want, but let me clarify something: don’t waste my time, buddy.”

The guy seems to finally understand that he’s not going to get anywhere and, somewhat embarrassed, walks away quickly, mumbling something incomprehensible as he retreats.

Ekko, seeing him leave, turns to you with a mocking smile. “See? He didn’t even bother to keep going. Like someone like him had a chance.”

You laugh at his carefree attitude and move a little closer to him, gently touching his arm. “Doesn’t it really bother you when someone approaches me like that?”

Ekko places a hand on his chest, acting as if he’s deeply hurt. “Bother me? No, not at all. I’m so sure of myself and what we have that those things don’t affect me.” Then, he smiles knowingly. “Besides, you know there’s nothing that guy could do to win me over. If you cared about anything else, you’d already know.”

You look into his eyes and, with a playful gesture, touch his cheek. “I don’t know if it’s confidence or arrogance, but I like it.”

Ekko laughs softly before leaning in a little closer to you. “What you like, girl, is that I’m the only one who can make you laugh even in the most ridiculous situations. And if that’s not what matters, I don’t know what does.”

Suddenly, he leans in and gives you a soft kiss on the cheek, as if it’s as natural as breathing. “Come on, let’s not waste any more time with guys like him. Let’s do something better. But before…” He stops for a moment, his playful gaze fixed on you. “Tell me, when did I learn to become this irresistible?”

The situation lightens with his relaxed attitude, and the confidence he has in what you two share makes you smile. With Ekko, there’s no room for doubt or worry. He knows what he has and how to handle anything that comes his way.

Silco

The meeting room is thick with the heavy atmosphere of a business that has no place in the light of day. The men around you are shadowed figures, accustomed to the illegality that runs like poison through the veins of the Undercity. Silco sits at the head of the table, his presence a shadow that dominates the space, and you’re beside him, as always. No one dares to look beyond his presence, and everyone knows that it’s not just his partner who must be respected, but you as well.

You’re his, that’s what everyone thinks. No one dares to say it out loud, but it’s clear in the air. The way he treats you, how he keeps you close to him at all times, how his gaze never leaves you. Silco doesn’t speak of what is obvious, but everyone knows. You are his in a way that no one dares question.

The meeting is tense, filled with discussions about contracts and dirty deals, but the tone shifts quickly when Finn, one of Silco’s oldest and most dangerous partners, leans back in his chair with a cocky grin. This guy’s been in the business for years and isn’t intimidated by the threat Silco represents. But this time, he’s gone too far.

“You know, Silco,” Finn begins, twirling a cigarette between his fingers, a mocking smirk on his face. “I think it’s a waste to have this beauty always by your side and not put her to work properly.” His laugh is bitter, full of malice, and his eyes fix on you with an unsettling intensity. “How about you let me borrow her for a day? Or better yet... how much would I have to pay to spend a night with her? You must be making a good amount from such a treasure, right?”

The air freezes instantly. The room falls silent, and even the toughest men know that a very fine line has just been crossed. Silco doesn’t speak for a moment; there’s something about his calmness that’s terrifying, a calm that always precedes a storm.

Silco slowly raises his head, his dark eyes fixed on Finn, his gaze as cold as steel. His face remains unchanged, but the atmosphere around him grows thick, dangerous.

The silence is absolute, and all eyes are on Finn, who is now visibly uncomfortable. However, Silco doesn’t budge. At that precise moment, his gaze shifts toward Sevika, his right-hand woman, who stands by the wall. Sevika’s imposing figure doesn’t need words to understand her boss’s intention. Silco gives her an imperceptible nod, and in an instant, Sevika moves with lethal speed.

In the blink of an eye, Finn is at the table, a loud thud fills the room as Sevika slams him against the surface, his face now smashed against it. Everyone watches in silence, as if the very air has stopped, knowing that Silco’s simple gesture has activated the kind of violence that should always be avoided in his presence.

“I’d suggest you think very carefully before you speak, Finn,” Silco says calmly, his gaze fixed on the humiliated man. “Because I don’t like anyone questioning what belongs to me, and certainly not disrespecting it like that.”

Finn staggers, slowly getting up, embarrassed and frightened. However, it’s not enough. Silco looks at him as though he’s observing a pest, and his tone is all Finn needs to understand this is his final warning.

“Now, apologize to her,” Silco orders, his voice almost a whisper of pure threat. “And do it in a way that reminds you how low you’ve fallen, because I’m not willing to tolerate such disrespect in my territory.”

The room is in absolute silence. The tension could be cut with a knife, and all present, even the toughest men, don’t dare make a single move. Finn, trembling, has no choice but to give in. He turns toward you, his face conflicted but clearly defeated, and his voice, full of humiliation, rises in the air. You almost felt sorry for him.

“I… I’m sorry,” he murmurs, shame and fear evident on his face. “I shouldn’t have spoken like that. I apologize.”

Silco doesn’t say anything, but his expression says it all. It’s a clear message: never again.

After a few seconds, the situation lightens slightly. Silco returns to his seat, and the room resumes its usual rhythm, though the fear still lingers in the air. No one will dare challenge him again.

When the tension finally dissipates, Silco turns toward you, and his gaze softens when he sees that you’re unharmed, calm. There’s an intensity in his look, a protective possessiveness that never fades. He takes your hand firmly, guiding you toward the exit of the room without saying another word.

Silco is not a man who needs to explain his gestures. His presence, his actions, speak for him. In his world, no one touches what belongs to him, and anyone who does will learn, like Finn, what it truly means to cross the line.

Mel

The council meeting is at its most tense, with politicians and businesspeople discussing agreements, but something in the air changes when a man, one of the most influential businessmen, dares to flirt with you. He leans toward you with an arrogant smile, throwing out bold comments.

"I’ve always wondered how someone as... attractive as you ends up next to a woman as cold as Mel," he says with a smile. "How about we grab a coffee later? I’m sure we could talk about things much more interesting than this boring meeting."

Silence spreads across the room. Everyone watches the situation, but Mel doesn’t change her posture. She stays silent, but the tension in her body is palpable. Something in the air tells you this is not a game she’s willing to tolerate.

"Do you dare talk about her like that?" Mel finally speaks, her tone soft but laced with threat. "Last time I checked, this meeting wasn’t a place for cheap advances."

The man, who had been confident, now looks visibly uncomfortable. "If you speak like that again, I assure you, it won’t be coffee you’ll be having, but a much... bitterer deal."

The threat is clear. All eyes focus on the man, who now seems small and uncomfortable. Mel doesn’t need to raise her voice for everyone to feel the weight of her authority.

"My apologies," he murmurs, embarrassed, not daring to look at them.

Mel responds with a cold smile. "I suggest you remember who’s really in control here."

The man nods quickly, speechless. Mel turns toward you, her calculating gaze fixed on you.

"Are you okay?" she asks, and though the question is soft, you know it’s a reminder that no one, not even him, will dare approach you in that way again.

You nod, feeling the security that only Mel can provide. No one will touch what’s hers.

"Let’s go," Mel says, rising gracefully. "We’ve got work to do."

The dynamic has shifted, and the room remains silent, but everyone knows Mel has made it clear who holds the power. You, being hers, are not only protected by her power but by her cunning and absolute control.

As you both leave the room, Mel stops at the threshold, looking at you with an almost evaluative expression.

"And don’t forget," she says quietly, "this is not just for you. It’s for everything you represent." She gives you a look that seems to assess your reaction, as if making sure you understand what’s at stake. "This is just the beginning."

The hallway is silent, but when you both take another step, Mel turns to you with a smile that, although subtle, carries a hint of satisfaction. "Never let anyone underestimate you, especially when they have no idea what they could lose."

She looks at you for a moment, and you realize that, beneath her power and control, there’s something else... something tender.

"I care for you because you’re mine," she whispers, but not possessively—more like a promise, as if she’s telling you that in this world of chaos, she will always be your refuge.

Before you can respond, Mel leans slightly toward you, capturing your lips in a soft kiss, but one full of intensity that leaves you breathless. It’s a short kiss, but enough to convey everything that can’t be said in words. The contact is warm, protective, and for the first time in a long time, you feel completely safe in her arms.

When she pulls away, her eyes seek yours with the unwavering confidence she’s always had, but now with something more. "Don’t forget this," she says, lightly touching your face. "No matter what happens, you’ll always be mine."

With a smile, she takes your hand, and without saying another word, you both continue walking.

Sevika

The hustle and bustle of the streets of Zaun echoes in the distance, but inside the tavern, the atmosphere is dense, heavy. The man approaches the table with that confident look, not as subtle as he thinks, and his words slide out like sweet poison.

"Well, who are you?" he says, smiling as his eyes boldly scan your figure. "A woman so brilliant, so... stunning, in a place like this."

Sevika doesn’t flinch, but you can see the tension ripple through her body, as if something dangerous is about to explode. Her eyes, cold as steel, follow the man while he continues talking, completely unaware of the danger he’s creating.

"I’m sure there’s more behind that facade," he says, getting closer, his voice too near your ear. "A beauty so rare, so unique, can’t just be a pretty face."

The discomfort grows inside you, but it’s Sevika who feels it first. Her expression shifts from calm to contained fury. She looks at you for a moment, as if asking for permission to act, and when your eyes meet, you know the situation is about to turn dangerous.

The man persists, but Sevika won’t tolerate it anymore. She stands up, her boots echoing on the floor with a firmness that makes everyone fall silent. Her words come out as a whisper, but they are loaded with a threat that everyone feels.

"If you don’t leave right now, I’ll make you wish you were never born," she says, her voice low, but her deadly tone unmistakable.

The man steps back, and his eyes finally show fear. Sevika gives him no space to react, her presence crushes him, forcing him to step back, and without saying another word, the man turns and disappears into the crowd, his ego shattered by Sevika's imposing figure.

She returns to her seat, the calm returning to her face, though the intensity of her gaze doesn’t fade. She looks at you, and for the first time, her lips curve into a smile that’s anything but kind. It’s pure possessiveness, a warning without words.

"Does it bother you when someone gets that close to you?" she asks, her tone almost playful, as if testing your limits.

You look at her, feeling the heat in your chest. There’s no fear, only confidence, because you know you’ll always have your strong, powerful woman by your side to protect you, to defend you from anything that tries to break the bubble you’ve built with her. You move closer slowly, her eyes never leaving yours.

"I feel fine," you reply with a seductive smile, letting your words linger between the two of you. "I know I’ll always have you—my strong, fierce, and captivating woman, who will always protect me." You flirt as you settle comfortably in her lap.

Sevika raises an eyebrow, a playful yet dangerous smile curling on her lips. Her hot breath brushes against your neck. "Good that you know," she whispers, her voice low and raspy, laden with a desire only you can understand. "Because as long as I’m by your side, no one will touch you. And the best part... is that you don’t even have to ask. I’ll take care of them in an instant."

"You’re so extra," you smile, biting her muscled arm playfully.

"Do you always have to do that?" she asks, not annoyed but intrigued, her hand gently petting your head.

"What can I say?" you reply with a teasing glint in your eyes. "It turns me on seeing you so jealous and possessive over me."

She growls softly, then grabs her beer, finishing it in one swift motion. Her gaze sharpens as she takes your hand.

"I think it’s time to head home," she says, her voice dripping with intent. "I plan to make the most of this behavior of yours while I can."

Sevika intertwines her fingers with yours, a silent promise that no one and nothing will dare cross that line. As the noise of the tavern continues, you and Sevika are momentarily isolated in your own world of protection, passion, and control—where only she holds the power to keep you safe.

[yukioos]

TEAR YOU APART

SUMMARY: viktor x vampire reader // you stumble into the piltover academy, not realizing where you are because of the sunlight. you haven’t had blood in days, and felt overwhelmed due to everything you were lacking. once you pass out in the halls, an old friend, heimerdinger, recognizes you, and has two men behind him. one of them, viktor, offers his blood to you and saves your life.

ASK: listen listen listen… viktor x his human experiment/project/anomaly/test subject. that’s all.

AUTHORS NOTE: hii!! im so sorry i accidentally posted the ask with the intention of using that post as a draft. anyway, thank u guys for 400 followers! this has 2.0k words. also pls send asks!! i’m working on a jayce oneshot too

WARNINGS: not proofread, kinda mean jayce, viktor n heimerdinger pick on jayce a bit, reader sucks viktors blood

you barged into the academy’s front doors, stomping down the hallways. it was in the middle of the day, yet far too sunny for your liking, but you needed a place to take cover. your body was burning in pain, and whimpers snuck out of your mouth. tears began to spring in your eyes, but you quickly wiped them away before they could drop down to your cheeks.

you walked up the stairs, trying to find a room suffocated in complete darkness. you panted, and you needed blood quickly. time was running out, and you felt your energy draining by the second. cold air enveloped your frame, so you wrapped your arms around your body. it was the coldest you’ve felt in your life, although you were burning minutes ago.

pain filled your legs, and you found it difficult to walk and even breathe. this wasn’t how vampires were supposed to act. you were supposed to be strong and intimidating, but here you were, holding your knees up to your chest and cradling yourself as if your mother was comforting you. suddenly, a door slammed open, and you heard three men talking about something you couldn’t comprehend. hopefully, they weren’t the bad people who would burn down the castles of vampires, like the ones in the stories dad would read.

heimerdinger gasped and in a chirpy voice, questioned, “miss y/n? is that you?” you only glanced up at the yordle, but didn’t have the strength to respond to your old friend. as your vision became blurry, you could only hear the creature command one of the men behind him, “jayce, pick up a bag of blood from the infirmary!” when the brunette hesitated, he furrowed his eyebrows and placed his hands on his hips, “what did i just say, boy? now!” he then pointed at the room labeled ‘infirmary’.

he held his hands over your shoulders, debating whether or not he should hug you. he felt immense love and care for you, and he was essentially your godfather. his eyes teared up, he had never seen you in a position like this before, it made the normally chirpy yordle feel emotional for you.

on the other hand, viktor felt awkward and nervous around you. he finally spoke up, “professor, do you know this woman?” he couldn’t help but stare at your eyes, devoid of emotion. he bit his lip and tapped his cane against the ground, impatiently waiting for his science partner to save your life.

footsteps stomped over to your side, and the dark haired boy asked, “is b positive okay, sir?” yet before your old friend could answer, your vision became dark, and you were met with frantic hands gently slapping your cheeks.

“no, no, no!” heimerdinger groaned, placing his hands on his head and shaking it with disappointment. the two men gave him a look of confusion, as a random girl appeared malnourished and on the edge of death. he continued, “oh gosh! that just made this situation worse!” he sat on his knees for a couple of seconds, placing his hands on his chin before his pet, porofessor, came over and sat next to him.

he then attempted to set his emotions aside, remembering it is his right to take care of you. he turned around and stood in front of you, with his hands on his hips. he stated, with furrowed eyebrows, “one of you needs to give blood to this young lady.”

before jayce could interject, as he held his hands out and opened his mouth, heimerdinger tutted and shook his finger. “we can’t give her blood from a bag, it needs to be from a living creature. i, unfortunately, was not thinking correctly when i told you to collect a bag from the infirmary. however, i expect one of you two gentlemen to give blood to her because yordle blood does not go well in vampires’ stomachs.”

the taller man rubbed the nose of his bridge and ran his large hand over his face, covering almost all of the skin. he sighed and took his hand off, “so you’re telling me that we have to give blood to a vampire?” he chuckled and splayed his hands out, as if he was shrugging, “with all do respect, professor, that’s absurd. i’m not giving blood to someone i just met. plus, she’s a vampire. they’re rabid animals—“

viktor interjected, reaching a hand out to jayce to stop him. he argued, “clearly, you haven’t studied vampires, jayce. there isn’t much information about them, but they are not rabid animals, especially this one here. they live in solitude, away from humans.” he glances to heimerdinger, who has a proud smile on his face, even in the darkest of times, “i will give the blood to her. it seems like you know her well enough to ask us to save her life.” he smirked.

the professor beamed and clapped, “i am proud of you, my boy!” he then turned to the stronger man and glared at him, “jayce, because you aren’t doing anything productive, carry her to the infirmary.” jayce didn’t protest this time, and even began to feel guilt, apparent due to his gaze at the ground, and puppy eyes sat on heimerdinger’s face. he then picked your body up, bridal style, and opened the door to the infirmary. he gently placed you on the soft bed, where your body seemed almost lifeless.

three chairs sat around the bed, where friends and family of the patient would bond together in their most vulnerable and sometimes last moments. the three sat down, and the professor struggled to climb on top of the tall chair. he sighed and placed his hands on the armrests, eyebrows furrowed and his expression unreadable.

it wasn’t until viktor spoke that he was knocked out of his trance. “professor, how am i supposed to give blood to… what was her name again?”

“her name is y/n. i watched the girl grow up in her castle with her mother and father. because i live for centuries, like them, they decided to make me her godfather. that was the best day in my life. never would i have expected her to see her like this…” he shakes his head, then widens his eyes, “oh, what am i saying? you didn’t ask for her life story!” he tried to be his chirpy and loving self again, but didn’t have the spark in his eyes.

he frowned and finally answered the brunette’s question, “i am not fully aware of how to wake her up. however, she should wake up to the smell of blood. then, you must let her take… a bite, preferably from your neck. maybe a couple of seconds will be good enough for the girl to have her health restored. it is a tedious process, my boy. you may begin to feel lightheaded, so you should have some water nearby. we will leave so it won’t be as awkward with us watching you.” he chuckled.

viktor bit his lip before nodding, and jayce took a glass from the cabinet above before filling it with water. he sat it on the table next to him, then held the door open for the professor. he then closed it, and you and viktor were all alone.

viktor attempted to grab a document but jolted his hand back once the pain settled in. he got a paper cut at the perfect time. your eyes opened quickly, and you smelled blood, causing you to rise and sit instead of lying down. you stared at the handsome boy in front of you, who happened to be holding his hand in pain.

viktor stared back at you with the same intensity, partially with fear and adrenaline. maybe the fact that you were pretty would make the pain easier to withstand. your eyes were wide, and viktor swore he saw a hint of red in them. your hands were perched on the bed, and you tilted your head at the frightened man.

through all his fear, he mumbled, “i understand you need… to feast for a moment,” he glanced down at the marble floor, “it’s okay.” he motioned over with his hand for you to take a bite.

within a second, you were out of the bed and sitting on his lap, with one hand on his neck. you rubbed his shoulder comfortingly before sinking your fangs in, eliciting a groan from him. his eyes widened and he began to pant, knowing he was currently losing blood by the second, but not a deathly amount.

he placed a cold hand on your hip and gently squeezed it, not noticing his own action. once you gained consciousness of your surroundings, you gave him a plush kiss on his neck, where you bit. some blood was smeared on the surrounding skin, so you grabbed a nearby tissue and cleaned it up. you smiled at the marks your teeth had left, but frowned once you saw the man wasn’t looking healthy.

you mumbled an, “‘m sorry,” and grabbed the glass of water for him to take. you then asked, “thank you for saving my life. how can i repay you? surely there’s something i can do.”

he slowly drank the water with shaky hands, accidentally letting some of it spill over his clothes. he closed his eyes and leaned his head back, placing the glass on the table. he whispered, “give me a second, please. i would like to… recollect myself.” so you nodded, then stood up and sat on the infirmary bed, giving him space.

he looked good, with disheveled hair and clothes, especially his tie. you’ve seen a lot of good-looking men in your long life, sometimes telling heimerdinger about them, but you never saw one as handsome as the one in front of you.

he apologized and rubbed his face, then stared back at your curious eyes. jayce was completely wrong, he couldn’t believe that vampires were dangerous as soon as he saw the innocent and loving look on your face.

he gave you a small smile, and stated, “i was thinking maybe i could ask you questions about your species. we do not have much knowledge about vampires, and the piltover community would love to know more. you don’t have to live around here, however, but i would appreciate you come by sometimes to teach me about your culture.”

he was genuinely interested, but it was even better that he wanted to know more about you, not just your people. he wanted to know about you as an individual being, and not everything had to be vampire-related. however, he wouldn’t admit this to heimerdinger. he was like an overprotective father, although he only saw the two of you interact once or twice.

so you and viktor began to talk about your culture for a couple of minutes before you were interrupted. the brunette remembered you didn’t need to sleep at night, so you preferred to talk early in the morning, when it was still dark. he learned you preferred to fly around at night, where people would never suspect you were a vampire, and no one could bother you.

you learned he was a renowned scientist, originally from the undercity, zaun. he felt like he didn’t always belong in the city of progress, as he was a cripple who believed he was looked down upon. you empathized with him, knowing vampires were never treated fairly in their years of living.

when it was almost time for your nightly fly, you quickly asked, “can you schedule the questions for three in the morning?”

that, of course, didn’t align with his schedule, but he agreed, “yes, that is perfect.” you nodded and smiled, and he shouted, “stay safe out there, miss y/n!” as you jumped out of the lab window, before transforming into a bat and roaming in the sky.

[knoepfl]

Electric Desires

Summary: In Viktor's workshop, a dangerous chemistry sparks between him and a bold, unpredictable visitor. What starts as a playful distraction soon escalates into an intense, passionate encounter. But just as things reach their peak, an unwelcome interruption forces both to confront their emotions and the tension that’s been building between them.

Characters:

Viktor: A brilliant and composed scientist, torn between his professional life and his growing attraction to the reader.

Reader: Bold, mischievous, and a little wild, the reader is unafraid to challenge Viktor’s calm exterior. Their unpredictable nature brings chaos and passion into his life.

Trigger Warnings:

Mature Content (explicit kissing, intimate moments)

Sexual Tension

Inappropriate Interruption

Emotional Complexity (introspection, uncertainty)

Masterlist

Words: 1773

--- The dim workshop buzzed with the sound of grinding metal and crackling electricity, Viktor's meticulous hands moving over a set of schematics spread across his cluttered desk. His golden eyes, sharp with focus, barely acknowledged your presence as you leaned against the doorway, watching him with a sly smile.

It wasn't the first time you'd crept into his space unannounced. Viktor tolerated it, even when your antics bordered on disruptive. Tonight, though, there was something in your gaze- something electric, like the sparks leaping from his machines.

"You've been at this for hours," you said, your voice sing-song as you pushed off the doorframe and sauntered closer. "Do you ever take a break, or do I need to force you?"

Viktor didn't look up. "Progress does not wait for comfort," he replied, his tone distracted but gentle. "And I thought you preferred chaos, not productivity."

"Oh, I do," you replied, sliding onto the edge of his desk. You reached out plucking a wrench from his hand and twirling it idly. "But I prefer you even more. "

That got his attention. Viktor finally glanced up, his expression somewhere between bemused and exasperated "You're impossible," he murmured though there was a hint of warmth in his voice

"And you're irresistible," you countered, leaning forward just enough for him to notice. The gleam in your eyes was unrestrained, a flicker of something wild that Viktor found both unnerving and captivating. "Don't you think it's unfair to keep me waiting?"

"For what, exactly?" he asked, his lips twitching into the barest hint of a smirk. He knew you too well by now to be entirely surprised.

"For this," you said, and before he could protest, you grabbed the collar of his coat and pulled him forward

The kiss was sudden, forceful, and completely unrelenting. For a moment, Viktor froze, caught between the instinct to pull away and the undeniable heat radiating from you. Then, tentatively, his hands found your waist steadying you as he leaned into the kiss.

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make him gasp against your lips. Viktor's usual restraint faltered, his sharp mind clouded by the sheer intensity of you. He broke away briefly, his breathing ragged as his golden eyes searched yours

"You are... relentless," he whispered, his voice low and hoarse. "And entirely too distracting."

"Good," you said with a grin, sliding into his lap and straddling him without hesitation. "Because I'm not done yet."

This time, Viktor didn't resist. His hands tightened on your hips as you captured his lips again, softer this time but no less intoxicating. The air around you felt electric, charged with a heat that rivaled the energy of his machines. His lips moved against yours with growing confidence, and when you nipped at his bottom lip, he groaned softly, sending a thrill down your spine.

"You're not as proper as you pretend to be," you teased between kisses, your voice breathless. "I like it.

And you," Viktor murmured, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke, "are far more dangerous than any experiment I've ever conducted."

You laughed, a wild and reckless sound, before pulling him back into another searing kiss. For once, the meticulous scientist let himself be consumed, his mind silenced by the chaotic, overwhelming presence of you.

---

The room felt hotter, the air charged with the intensity of your shared hunger. Viktor's hands, usually so precise and measured, roamed your body with growing urgency. His lips pressed against your neck, trailing heated kisses down to your collarbone the scrape of his teeth sending shivers through you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as your breath came faster. "Viktor," you murmured, your voice trembling with desire. "I don't want you to hold back."

His golden eyes flicked up to yours, dark with longing. For a moment, he hesitated, his grip on your waist tightening as if anchoring himself. "Are you certain?" he asked softly, his voice thick, trembling with both restraint and want.

You cupped his face, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone as your lips hovered over his. "I've never been more certain of anything.

That was all he needed. He surged forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that left you breathless. His hands slid under your shirt, fingers brushing the bare skin of your back with a reverence that made you ache. You gasped at the contact, pressing closer to him, desperate for more.

His lips left yours, trailing down the curve of your throat as his hands explored every inch of you, memorizing the shape of your body. The way he touched you was intoxicating-both tender and possessive, as though he couldn't get enough. When his lips reached the sensitive spot just below your ear, you let out a soft moan, the sound spurring him on.

You tugged at his shirt, your fingers fumbling in your eagerness to feel his skin against yours. He chuckled lowly the sound vibrating against your throat as he helped you pull the fabric over his head. Your hands roamed his chest, tracing the lines of muscle and the faint scars that marked his skin. He shuddered under your touch, his breath hitching as your lips followed the path your fingers had taken.

"Do you always have to be so distracting?" he murmured, though the teasing note in his voice was laced with a raw edge. His hands moved to your thighs, pulling you closer until you were straddling him completely.

You grinned, your hands threading through his hair as you whispered "Only for you."

He pulled you down into another kiss this one deeper, slower, as if savoring every moment. The world outside the workshop ceased to exist; there was only the heat of his body against yours the sound of your breaths mingling, and the undeniable pull between you.

When his hands slipped lower, gripping your hips and guiding you against him you couldn't hold back the soft gasp that escaped your lips. Viktor groaned in response, his control unraveling further with every movement. The intensity in his eyes was enough to steal your breath, his usual guarded expression replaced by something raw and vulnerable.

"Tell me if it's too much," he said, his voice hoarse but full of care, his forehead resting against yours.

"It won't be," you replied, your voice steady despite the storm raging inside you. "| trust you, Viktor."

For a moment, he froze, his gaze softening as he studied your face. Then he smiled-a rare, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat.

'Then let me show you how much you mean to me," he murmured, his voice low and full of promise.

And as he pulled you closer, his touch and his kisses saying everything words couldn't, you knew this was a moment you would never forget

---

The door slammed open with such force that you both froze mid-movement. Jayce’s voice rang out, filled with urgency, yet faltering when his eyes landed on the scene before him. His gaze flicked from Viktor’s hands on your waist to the intensity between the two of you, his face blanching in shock.

"Viktor!" Jayce blurted, his voice filled with confusion and disbelief. "We need to—"

Jayce trailed off when he fully took in the situation. You and Viktor, so close, so entangled that it was impossible to ignore the tension, the heat in the room. Jayce stood frozen, his eyes wide and confused, his hand still gripping the doorframe as if he was unsure if he should step in or run.

Viktor, ever the composed one, was the first to break the silence, his voice tight but trying to maintain his usual calm. “Jayce, this is not a good time.”

Jayce blinked a few times, his face flushing as he tried to recover from the shock. “I… I can see that,” he mumbled, his voice awkward as he stepped back. “I’ll just… come back later, I—uh, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

But you couldn’t help yourself. You glanced over at Jayce, a wicked grin playing on your lips. “You sure you don’t want to stay and watch?” you teased, your voice dripping with mischief, clearly enjoying the discomfort you’d caused.

Jayce’s face went bright red, his hands fumbling at his side as he stammered out, “No! No, I—no! I’ll go now, I’ll go now.” Without another word, he practically sprinted out of the room, muttering to himself.

Viktor, ever the perfectionist, ran a hand through his hair, visibly irritated. He let out a sharp sigh, straightening himself as he tried to refocus. “Of course Jayce would have the worst timing.”

You chuckled softly, a teasing glint in your eyes as you leaned in closer to Viktor, your lips grazing his jaw. “Well, that was certainly an interesting interruption.”

Viktor smirked, but there was a flicker of frustration in his gaze. “This could have been… different,” he said, pulling back slightly. “We were so close.”

You met his gaze, a hint of mischief still in your eyes, but something else flickered behind your playful expression. You sighed, pushing yourself up from the desk, your fingers lingering on the edge as you met his eyes one last time.

“Maybe next time,” you said, your tone more serious than before. You took a step back, your smile slipping just slightly as you turned toward the door.

Viktor’s brow furrowed, his frustration turning into concern. “Wait… where are you going?”

You hesitated at the door, your hand on the handle. For a moment, it felt like the air between you both had shifted. Your heart pounded, your emotions a whirlwind of tension and uncertainty.

“I don’t know, Viktor,” you said quietly, not meeting his gaze. “Maybe I need to think. Maybe you need to, too.” Your voice softened, the words carrying a weight that had nothing to do with the physical distance between you. “I’ll leave you to your work.”

You turned, your fingers brushing the doorframe one last time before you stepped out of the room, the door closing softly behind you.

Inside, Viktor stood still for a long moment, staring at the spot where you had just been. His breath was still heavy, his mind racing, and despite the situation, a part of him felt that familiar longing to pull you back. But deep down, he knew the path forward wasn’t as simple as desire.

The room felt emptier now, the silence louder than before. He couldn't help but wonder if he had just missed something—something important.

But for now, the distance between you remained, unanswered, and Viktor was left to navigate the silence.

---

[toastytrusty]

before i go to sleep need to talk about how insane the viktor as the mage that saved jayce as a child reveal was. at first i didn't really like it but it only makes sense. the mage was a perfect, benevolent, idealized version of the arcane. jayce spent his Whole damn life striving towards that mage, trying to recreate his talents and recreate his gift because he was so grateful for everything he did for him. and his whole dream for this began to revolve around viktor. his dream of hextech, his dream of magic. because it was always about viktor. because in the end he didn't want to give magic to the people, he just wanted his partner back. it was never about the arcane, not really. it was just about viktor. it was affection keeping them together. not to mention how viktor strays so drastically from this beautiful and altruistic version of magic as he gets obsessed with perfection and corrupted by the hexcore, and jayce is literally the only thing in any universe that can remind him what they were fighting for, not by bringing up anything to do with the arcane at all, but by talking about viktor himself; how he's beautiful, how he's perfect. by giving him back the stone that started his whole journey, and letting it end their journey together. like an exchanging of vows. because it was always about viktor. and the hextech doesn't matter as long as he has viktor, his motivation and energy and literal source of life for as long as he can remember. they saved each other's lives, more than once. to jayce, viktor is perfect and has always been perfect and always will be perfect. because they're literally soulmates i need to sit down

[thecordelialetters]

The Art of Science

Viktor x artist!fem!reader

WC: 1.4k

An unlikely meeting of a lonely scientist and a student of the arts finding the beauty in themselves and each other.

Viktor never considered himself beautiful. His dimly lit room contained the basic human needs, a bed, a desk, and a sofa, all provided by the academy. There were no big mirrors besides the foggy one that sat above his bathroom sink. He barely glanced at it other than to fix his bedhead. The bags under his eyes and paling skin were hard to look at. Viktor believed in his work; he couldn't care less about vanity when he poured his energy into the lab daily. In the same way, he cared about his looks he gave the same effort into cultivating relationships. Like the mirror, Viktor didn't spare a glance at someone who wasn't interested in conversing about his projects or his vision for a better world. You were the complete opposite. You took life one step at a time, a personification of stopping to smell the roses come to life. As an artist, you look to beauty in the everyday. Perhaps it was fate your paths crossed, usually, you never dared enter the science wing of the academy but you had finished your painting early and wanted to go on a stroll to clear your mind. It was intimidating being around the brightest minds in Piltover. Most of them looked down on your profession. What was art compared to science? They'd mock you as you passed them, believing their work was revolutionary and way more important than a simple painting. It unnerved you but you'd never show it. A string of curses left Viktor's lips at another failed attempt at the Hexcore. Progress day was just a few weeks away and he had nothing to show for. As he hit his hand on the table in frustration, the vibration pushed the lab door open. The light from the small room shone on your face as you passed. Hearing a man's frustration you cautiously peaked your head through the door. You couldn't see exactly who was in the room but you could make out his back. The man was slender but had broader shoulders clad in a maroon button-up and white vest. His hair was a deep brown that flitted out over his ears. The room was messy, not as messy as your studio. You could see the genius behind the papers strewn over the desks and the many machines being worked on with the smell of oil in the air. Feeling the unusual sensation of being watched, Viktor turned his head to the side finding the door had been breached open. With a cramped hand, smeared graphite from all the writing he had been doing, he grabbed his cane and made his way to close the door. He pushed the opening gently finding the scene of you sitting on the floor, scribbling furiously in your notebook. His amber eyes drifted over your, messy locks tied in a ponytail, paired with gentle features that harmoniously made your face look perfect if it wasn't for the paint smudges on your cheek. He took a peak at your sketchbook finding familiar figures on the page of him in the lab. "What are you doing here little mouse?" He spoke in his soft accent. You stopped sketching and looked up, eyes widening at his presence. "I um...I was just passing by. I'm (y/n) part of the arts department." You looked down at your drawing, cheeks flushed with embarrassment at being caught. The handsome inventor crouched in front of you to sit. He held out one hand, "May I see?" You nodded and pushed your book into his hands, eyes boring into his face. Even under the dimly lit hallway of the academy, he was much more attractive. The flicker from the bulbs danced on his high cheekbones and you swore you could see the specks of brown in his amber eyes. Viktor scanned the page in detail. It was fascinating how you were able to so accurately portray his figure and inventions. Every nutt and bolt and every curve of his body you conveyed beautifully. "This is amazing (y/n)." He gave you a small smile. You beamed shyly in response. Tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear you spoke up, "May I? Sit with you and draw you?" Albeit shocked at your request his eyes widened.

Frighted you might have scared him off you waved your hands, "If not its okay, I should be getting back anyways." You grabbed the book from his hand and shoved your supplies in your bag.

Before you could bolt away a firm grasp held onto your wrist. "You did not give me a chance to answer little mouse." He smiled gently looking down at you. "Come, sit next to me, I would love to be your muse." You smiled giddly and hopped up dashing into the lab. Viktor chuckled at your antics. He had not experienced meeting someone as sparkling as you. It was as if someone had collected a burst of a newborn star and embodied it into a girl. You carefully danced your way around the lab not wanting to knock anything over but also letting your curiosity draw you in. You turned to the sound of a chair scraping the floor. Viktor had sat down and began writing his research again. Dragging a chair next to him you position yourself at his side with enough space to give you the perfect angle of his face and upper body. The almost burnt-out candle on Viktor's desk cleared the way of the darkness while the two of you worked on your delicate craft in silence. The sounds of scratching pencils battled each other as your furious ideas filled the page. Feeling the way your eyes bore into his skin Viktor couldn't help but feel nervous. What if you actually wanted to leave and were staying here out of pity. Why would you want to stay anyways? He wasn't conversing with you nor was he doing anything worth viewing.

Unable to resist his interest any longer he turned to look at you. Your eyes met paired with the warmest smile he's received in a long time. Your smile made his heart flutter in a way that was concerning. Perhaps it was his condition acting up again. Silently you held up your notebook to his face. The breath in his lungs had dissipated. It was...stunning. Was that really him? The page contained 3 versions of himself. Every wrinkle on his face, the curve of his jaw, and even the bags under his eyes were present. Somehow you had made him look...decent, attractive even. "You flatter me too much little mouse, this looks far better than I do in person." You leaned forward pushing your book on the table. "No this is you. This is exactly what you look like." You brought up a slender finger and traced his features. "See this here? Is also here." One had felt his face the other pointed to different places in your picture. "You are beautiful Viktor." With a soft smile, the light flickered on your face showing the freckles that danced on your skin. "Well, thank you little mouse I like your drawings very much." You nodded and flipped the page to continue. The two of you worked in silence for hours. Neither of you spoke a word but the atmosphere felt like a home on a Christmas night. Quiet but comfortable, filled with some kind of magic. "I wish I had my watercolors." Viktor paused at your honey-smooth voice. "Why is that?" He questioned. His eyes fluttered back and forth over your figure. Fresh laundry, paint, and lavender filled his lungs as you let your hair down from your ponytail. "You have these gorgeous amber eyes that I just want to paint but I can't" You pout. Viktor laughed heartily at your confession. "Well, why don't you come tomorrow night. I will be here again and you can paint me." He took an insecure pause. "If you want of course." You nodded before looking at the time. "Oh my it's so late, I'm so sorry for keeping you. I should head back now." Viktor gently held your hand that laid on his shoulder.

"Do not worry, I was going to be here regardless. Actually, I would like to thank you, your presence was most enjoyable." You blushed and brushed a few locks of hair from Viktor's face. "Well, then I'm glad I could be of good company." Packing up your supplies you couldn't help but notice Viktor's disappointed face. With a smooth tear, you ripped the drawing from your sketchbook. Surprised he jumped up thinking you tore the picture.

"Here! Have it. It will be a promise I'll come tomorrow." Realizing you were giving the drawing to him, he gingerly held the drawing staring at the multitude of strokes that somehow compiled into his likeliness. He swore the room was growing warming, what else could excuse the heat filling his chest. "I'll hold you to that, little mouse."

Authors Note: This is currently unedited and a short but maybe Ill come back to it. I just got a burst of energy to write again.

[starrycassi]

Fluff jayvik hcs because why the fuck not.

Jayce is the in-universe equivalent to Latino. This is not a headcanon I'm Chris Lane himself.

Outside of their hex work, Viktor is quite fond of biology. He appreciates learning about evolution and how many different life forms deal with the same problems but face it in different ways. He is that one bug lover in every campus. Particularly fond of butterflies. He's got a few pinned down on his wall. Jayce finds it sort of creepy but keeps quiet.

Jayce is a geology nerd. He started getting into it while searching for a mineral that could resemble the first "stone" given to him by the mage when he was about 12. This was his very first theory: the arcane is actually stored in rocks and can be extracted like gold or such. It was clearly wrong but left him with a vast knowledge of just rocks. He has a million little chips around his bedroom. He fears the day he has to move because they're all heavy as fuck when combined.

Jayce is actually really athletic. But, like, for health benefits. He does appreciate his own body and WILL flex it if given the opportunity, but it's not the main reason why he exercises/works out (yes I know the forge bla bla I'm talking when he finally becomes a scientist guys). He wants to live a long life to take care of his mom, and knows that a good physique would make that easier.

Jayce ends up annoying Viktor into agreeing to do some low-impact stretches with him when they spend more than 24 hours just sitting around in the lab. And I'm talking VERY low impact. Wrist stretches, shoulder openers, some neck looseners. He's actually really patient and caring when they do this, and Viktor has definitely fallen a little bit more in love with each muscle movement.

Expanding on that: after 48 hours of work he Will Get The Zoomies. This ends up in Viktor, sitting peacefully, counting down the pushup reps Jayce is doing. He needs to get rid of all that energy and Viktor is more than happy to help. Especially when Jayce eventually starts taking out his shirt to do his little routines.

Jayce likes psychology and general health. He is really in tune with his own emotions in the show, okay? This man is reading self help books in his spare time. A lot of time the theory doesn't actually make it to his heart but at least he understands it. Viktor finds the chemistry side of psychology interesting, but is not that interested in the rest of it. Basically psychology vs psychiatrist ig.

They're both dinosaur nerds. Jayce is a big fan of their diets/possible mating rituals while Viktor is obsessed with fossils and evolution. Jayce likes flying specimens more, while Viktor is partial to the marine ones.

Viktor's one and only loved physical activity is swimming. Takes the weight off his leg and spine for a second. One of the few "luxuries" he owns is a decently sized bathtub with all the proper accommodations to get in and out without help.

Viktor is a snake person. They're easy to care for (if you just follow the right steps), easy to transport, don't require that much physical effort, will not wreck his house while he's gone, et cetera. Of course he doesn't have a twelve feet venomous one. Probably more of a cornsnake/Rosy boa guy. Which also means that the first time Jayce visits his apartment, the man almost dies in five consecutive heart attacks.

Jayce would definitely love a golden retriever I'm sorry he truly is the living bisexual boy stereotype. Physical affection, a good excuse to go outside for a run, force him to keep a routine. I actually think he would never own one on his own because he knows his schedule is way too fucked up for a pet, but Ximena does have one to keep her company and he loves it. I can only see this man with either a cat that comes to his balcony every night or some obscure brand of bird.

Jayce is amazing at cooking, but incredibly messy and takes his sweet time with it. He had time to learn from his mom and sees cooking as an act of love that should be appreciated. Viktor is really fast and efficient, but can end up with tasteless stuff. Grew up with hastily stolen ingredients and half a bottle of kitchen oil in Zaun. Food is fuel kind of mentality.

The only person who Viktor accepts constant help from is Jayce, and this is because he knows that Jayce is Just Like That. There was one or two big fights about it at first, but, with times, he's learned that Jayce is doing this out of the wish to show love and not out of pity or concern. Jayce is well aware that Viktor can adjust his own brace and has no problem with fixing his own tie, but he loves loves loves being useful.

This evolves in Viktor trying to reciprocate the gestures. Keeping Jayce's foundation on his bag (there is no way Mr. Charisma doesn't cover his eye bags every time they need to be in public) and learning how to properly apply makeup for him. He keeps an extra pair of earphones after finding out that Jayce is actually just as easily overstimulated as him. Remembers his coffee order, straightens out his collar, refills his stapler and clip drawer.

They are PARTNERS okay? I need the little domestic signals. No big "I love you's" but daily "I got you that cinnamon latte monstrosity you call a beverage" or "You forgot them? Don't worry. I have emergency pain pills in my wallet. Yes, the ones you take. No, it's technically not stalking if you leave the receipts laying around."

They both really enjoy videogames. Viktor likes noir/detective ones and Jayce is a fan of anything that includes racing. They seldom play the same game at the same time, more often just keeping the other company while doing their own thing.

They can both sew. Pretty similar to the cooking one. Jayce learnt for pleasure, Viktor out of necessity.

Have seen the other sob silently over failed equations and burnt metals so many times that they both have perfected the routine by now. Viktor likes to be given space and Jayce needs someone to come calm him down. Which is hell, because Jayce hates leaving Viktor alone. He feels useless. And Viktor heats having to do the whole consolation thing. He feels inadequate. But that's what the other needs, so they try.

When really stressed, Jayce has been known for having psychosomatic thermal issues. Viktor has had to throw blanket after blanker over him because he will Not Move if his body gets too cold, which in return makes him panic, which makes him even colder.

Both fuckin hate winter. It always finds them with So Many Extra Sweaters in the lab. Viktor carries an extra scarf around. Just in case. Jayce's PTSD gets triggered, while Viktor's body just reacts horribly to the cold. Some days they just wrap themselves up against one another and try to guard off the cold.

Viktor has some auditory hallucinations. Very rarely. Mostly of Rio. He doesn't want to talk about it. So he doesn't. Jayce notices, but knows better than to go poke and prode at Viktor's feelings. It doesn't usually end well.

Are both amazing at chess. Have threatened to kill each other over it. Had to take out the board from the lab after the sixth consecutive tie.

(Mel is actually the only other person in the building who can easily, quickly and steadily beat them, including when they work together. Even Heimerdinger gets thrown a few curves here and there)

Jayce Can Not stand it when Viktor is disrespected, but never steps in. He knows Viktor will defend himself and will only get in the middle of it if it gets physical. The one time he tried Viktor's cane met his shins about five times in a row. It was a "small warning about limits."

Jayce avoids ordering junk food when they work for hours, for both of their health. He also doesn't want to sacrifice taste, so he buys from two/three exclusive places that can meet their nutritional + palatial needs. Viktor can, will and has eaten only pizza for about three days straight.

Had he never been... well, the man of progress, Jayce would've turned into either a bioengineer or surgeon. I have no idea on how to explain this but I need u to believe me please (I'm just a healthcare student with severe delusions)

Jayce's mom makes a big deal of his birthday. Viktor denies being jealous. It doesn't work. Next year, Ximena also makes a big deal of his special day.

Viktor is currently unaware of his exact date of birth. He picked one based on analysis and what his mother could recount but has never known the exact number

They get married and live happily ever after idc idc

Addition 1: Both are Well Aware of the law (Jayce's little sister is a cop + Viktor just like reading everything). Can both hold their own in a legal conversation. They just choose to ignore it. Have a vast knowledge of legal technicalities and use them only to bend said laws. The more they learn, the worse they get. Basically those guys who read the rulebook only to find loopholes on it.

[velvet4510]

Instead of yet another stupid apocalypse, you know what the final “battle” of Season 4 actually should’ve been?

The Umbrellas (including Ben) vs. Reginald.

No Cleanse.

No Keepers.

No durango.

NO REGINALD REDEMPTION.

None of that nonsense.

We should’ve had all of the Reginalds merge. So in the end, he remembers all the events of the previous seasons. Including the original timeline. He is the Reginald who raised and tormented and abused the Umbrellas.

The same should’ve happened to Ben; the Umbrella and Sparrow versions merge, and he has the memories of both versions. He is the Ben they once lost.

We should’ve learned the full extent of Reginald’s alien powers. It should’ve turned out that he is in fact a one-man army when he wants to be.

We should’ve seen Reginald’s plan backfire - the “tools” that he created in a selfish plot to get his wife back rebel and take back their autonomy from him. All his years of child abuse come back to haunt him as he is given no choice but to acknowledge that the Umbrellas are actual people, that they have found the real meaning of love in each other and his efforts to control them have truly failed. That there is more to these people than his own selfishness. All of his teachings come back to haunt him as their powers are used against him.

We should’ve had the siblings - plus Lila since she’s part of the family and also hates the man who abused her beloved Diego - finally face off against Sir Reginald Hargreeves. Both a physical and verbal battle.

Luther uses his super strength. Diego uses his trajectory tricks. Allison uses her rumoring for mental torment. Klaus conjures ghosts as backup. Viktor’s energy blasts bring Reginald’s worst fears to life. Five’s teleporting and time manipulation make their victory inevitable. Lila’s mirroring only doubles the effects.

And, through teamwork, the family win the battle and kill Reginald. (In Guardians of the Galaxy-type fashion.)

Together, the traumatized children finally conquer their abuser together.

Maybe they kill Abigail too, or maybe she sides with them and expresses disapproval at the atrocities that Reginald committed because of her.

Maybe Reginald is holding Sloane prisoner on the moon in Abigail’s place, and the final battle also operates as her rescue.

But definitely, the climax needed to be a confrontation between Reginald and his “marigold” children.

At least that would’ve been an actual emotional payoff to the 3 seasons of buildup and character development.

[martybaker]

There was only one couch

Tfw you cannot find the jayvik fic you crave so you write it yourself 🙃

I also gotta preface this with - I cannot write science talk for the life of me, in my defense they are sleep deprived so if it doesn’t make much sense, it’s not supposed to 🙈

—————————

They’ve been stuck at this problem for hours, any potential paths they managed to come up with immediately shattering after but a couple pokes of logic aimed to test the solidity of their foundations. Like bubbles popped by a child’s finger. Like heated corn kernels. Like dreams of making a difference-

Viktor’s too tired to think in metaphors.

He drops the pencil and swivels in his chair, facing Jayce who’s already draped across their shabby sofa, long legs sticking out from one end, head inclined on the armrest on the side closer to Viktor.

“What if we…build an oven?” Jayce says. “Well not like, an oven, but reverse, a device that could contain the energy and…,” he waves his hands in the air as he talks, as if that would help illustrate his train of thought, “…uhhh, we could more safely work on directing the charges? Fuck, I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.”

Viktor chuckles. He doesn’t know why he does, it’s not even particularly funny, the exhaustion must have erased any common sense of his that was left. Yet it’s…comforting to see that same exhaustion mirrored in Jayce. The same dark circles, the same bone deep tiredness weighing him down, the same look of frustration after they’ve been hitting dead ends and running in circles. It’s a shared exhaustion, just like the hard work is shared. Probably should have called it a night hours ago. They both direly need the rest.

“An oven? That would be your hunger speaking, I’m afraid,” Viktor says, reaching for his cane, grinding his teeth to gather the energy to push himself up onto his feet.

“Nah, m’not hungry,” Jayce mumbles. “We had those sandwiches for lunch. Or was it dinner? What time is it even?”

“Too late by all accounts,” Viktor says, taking the few steps towards the couch. He looks at Jayce, who seems glued to the couch and likely is planning to spend the night there. Viktor looks towards the door, but hesitates. The idea of the track across campus to his lodgings really doesn’t sound appealing.

It’s not even that far, the university tried to accommodate Viktor’s needs as best as they could and gave him a room on the ground floor, plus the building is the closest housing to the Engineering department’s laboratories. And yet, today it feels miles away. Damn his leg, damn all the stairs, and damn his hubris for yet again pushing his body beyond its limits, knowing fully well it will backfire ten folds and render him even more useless in the morning.

Jayce notices his hesitation, damn his partner’s bright mind too. He can read Viktor too well, he guesses the reason for his histation despite Viktor’s lack of complaining.

“Oh, do you wanna sleep here? I’ll head home, no problem,” he suggests way too readily, already hoisting himself up onto his elbows.

Viktor tsks and pushes against Jayce’s chest, pushing him back down into the couch.

“Stay,” he hisses. Jayce lives off campus, it would take him much longer to get home. Viktor’s not about to kick him out. And he doesn’t care for compassion either.

Jayce knows this, yet the man cannot help but be kind and caring, and though it irritates Viktor when it's aimed at him, it is also a quality of Jayce’s that he admires. He’s kind to everyone. Meets everyone halfway. Though at times they push too far, and Jayce lets them. Too kind for his own good.

Viktor shakes his head, trying to clean it, the stacked up piles of thoughts seem to have all spilled inside his brain and are rattling around. Rest. He needs to rest.

He looks at Jayce, who is still lying down on the couch, hands raised as if in surrender, big doe eyes staring at Viktor. Was Viktor too cross with him just now? He’s unable to determine. He pats Jayce’s knee in an attempt to smooth over his own prickly temperament.

“I just…I need to take a moment. Before I head out,” he tries. He hopes Jayce won’t insist. He is too tired to come up with reasonable arguments. He doesn’t wanna fight.

But Jayce doesn’t fight, he nods, then he bites his lip and opens his arms.

Hmm.

Viktor considers.

The couch is clearly too small for one grown man, let alone two.

Still it would be more comfortable than the chair.

And Viktor’s not averse to touch. Despite perhaps coming off as such. To everyone, except for Jayce.

It is true that he doesn’t like to be touched by strangers, especially unexpectedly. But he is human and just like anyone else, he has moments when he would welcome touch. Moments when he finds it comforting. And Jayce is a very tactile person. He didn’t hold back from putting a hand on Viktor’s shoulder the very first day they met, and he hasn’t stopped since. Though there was a moment near the beginning of their partnership when someone pointed out Viktor’s (alleged) aversion to touch and Jayce panicked, apologizing profusely for making him uncomfortable, and it took days for Viktor to convince him he really didn’t mind. Because that was the truth, Viktor didn’t mind. Not when it was Jayce.

Of course cuddling on the couch was an entirely different matter.

They’ve never done that before, however, Viktor wasn’t a stranger to the comfort of a warm body next to his either.

From cuddling with his parents for warmth as a kid in one too small bed, to seeking the pleasures of a lover to relieve stress, the warmth of a body next to his undoubtedly had its benefits.

And he and Jayce are friends. It wouldn’t be a big deal.

And so Viktor slowly drops his cane to the floor and lowers one of his knees to the couch, trying to figure out how to arrange himself next to Jayce.

Jayce tries to help but it takes some maneuvering, what with Viktor’s leg and their sleep deprived brains, there are a couple of winces and pointy elbows and just way too many limbs, an “Oof” from Jayce when he earns a knee to his stomach, but eventually Viktor finds himself situated with his back against the back of the couch, his head on Jayce’s chest, right leg on top.

It’s…it’s warm.

It’s nice.

It’s not a big deal.

“Okay?” Jayce checks.

Viktor hums. He can hear Jayce’s heartbeat, feel his breath on his forehead. Smell the musk, the odor of an unshowered body, but he has no right to complain, they both haven’t showered for however many hours or days they’ve been locked in here.

Jayce’s heartbeat and breathing slows, but Viktor cannot slow his racing thoughts. He can feel every point of contact where their bodies are touching. He can feel Jayce’s muscular chest moving under his hand. Jayce’s right hand briefly pets Viktor’s hair before it settles on top of his shoulders. Viktor fights against the urge to burrow closer, to inhale Jayce’s smell, to place Jayce’s hand back into his hair.

Stupid sleep deprived brain. Viktor could have figured such close proximity to a warm body would reduce him to animal instincts. He can only be glad he’s way too sleepy for his nether parts to react as well.

Jayce feels his restlessness. How could he not, pressed so close.

“Viktor,” he whispers, warm breath tickling Viktor’s forehead and despite himself Viktor exhales and melts against that strong chest even more. “You can rest, V, I’ll wake you in a couple of minutes and walk you home.”

My ass you will, Viktor thinks, we’re both gonna fall asleep here, your right side will be completely numb and my back will be killing me tomorrow. He’ll barely be able to stand. But he’s too tired and too comfortable to say any of that now. It’s a Tomorrow Viktor’s problem anyways. This Viktor burrows closer against Jayce’s chest, letting all his worries and all the problems fade, falling into the sweet embrace of sleep.

[hexblooded]

cold facts, jayce is probably doing the right thing on the long run, because:

viktor had asked him twice to destroy the hexcore, he knew it was getting into his head and that he wouldn’t be able to resist its pull, after what happened to sky, viktor knew it was dangerous

and then jayce couldn’t, he needed to save viktor’s life (even if it was dooming him at the same time)

the hexcore is using sky’s image to manipulate viktor, she is the literal embodiment of his guilt and shame and if she tells him he is helping people he will believe it, and in a way he is saving them, they were all dying anyway, but the thing is, the hexcore needs all these bodies/souls/life energy for something

and magic has always been about balance, so even if viktor is saving lives, he’s offsetting the natural balance of the world, that’s why ekko’s tree started dying, so you can extrapolate that the more people viktor saves, the worse things are going to become

whatever jayce experienced inside the wild rune, he saw he made a huge mistake in betraying his promise to viktor, and now he’s trying to honor it again, even if it takes killing viktor for that

[aspenmissing]

​ʜᴏᴍᴇ ɪꜱ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ || ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ/ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 932 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴᴏɴᴇ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴀ ɢʀᴜᴇʟɪɴɢ ᴅᴀʏ, ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴꜱ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ ɪɴ ʜɪꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛɴᴇʀ'ꜱ ᴄᴀʀᴇ. ᴅᴇꜱᴘɪᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴇɪɢʜᴛ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴘᴏɴꜱɪʙɪʟɪᴛɪᴇꜱ, ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴏꜰꜰᴇʀꜱ ʜɪᴍ ꜱᴏʟᴀᴄᴇ. ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇʏ ꜱʜᴀʀᴇ ᴀ Qᴜɪᴇᴛ, ɪɴᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ, ᴛʜᴇʏ ʀᴇᴀꜰꜰɪʀᴍ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʙᴏɴᴅ, ꜰɪɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ.

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ​

The day had been unrelenting. Jayce Talis trudged through the streets of Piltover, his coat pulled tightly around him against the biting chill of the night air. The lamps lining the cobblestone paths cast a warm, golden glow, but it did little to comfort him. The weight of the day’s work at the lab pressed heavily on his shoulders, an invisible burden that threatened to pull him to the ground.

Hextech—his pride, his creation—had become a double-edged sword. For every breakthrough came a dozen more challenges. The council’s endless demands, the cautious whispers of doubt from his colleagues, and the haunting memory of Viktor’s sunken eyes as he fought his own battles with their invention. It all compounded, leaving Jayce feeling like a man chasing the horizon, never quite reaching it.

He reached the door to your shared apartment, pausing for a moment. The faint light seeping through the curtains told him you were still awake, likely waiting for him as you always did. Jayce took a deep breath, steeling himself. He hated bringing the weight of his work home, hated the way it stole his energy and dulled his smiles. But you were his sanctuary, his anchor. No matter how tired he was, being with you made everything feel a little more bearable.

He turned the key and pushed the door open, the warmth of your home enveloping him immediately. The scent of lavender and the faint crackle of the fire greeted him, a stark contrast to the cold, mechanical atmosphere of the lab.

“Jayce?” Your voice was soft, tinged with concern as you peeked around the corner from the living room.

He offered you a tired smile, dropping his coat onto the nearest chair. “Hey, sweetheart.”

You approached him slowly, your eyes scanning his face. The dark circles under his eyes and the slump in his posture told you everything you needed to know. Without a word, you reached up, cupping his cheek gently. He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes and exhaling deeply.

“Rough day?” you asked, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone.

“You could say that,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. “I… I just want to crawl into bed and forget the world exists for a while.”

Your heart ached for him. Jayce carried so much on his shoulders, more than any one person should. And yet, he did it with such determination, such conviction. You nodded, taking his hand in yours.

“Come on,” you said softly. “Let’s get you comfortable.”

You led him to the bedroom, the space cozy and intimate, a reflection of the life you had built together. The bed was already turned down, the softest blankets waiting to envelop him. You sat him down on the edge, kneeling to untie his boots. He protested weakly, but you silenced him with a look.

“Let me take care of you for once,” you said firmly.

Jayce relented, his body too tired to argue. As you removed his boots, he couldn’t help but watch you, a small smile tugging at his lips despite his exhaustion. You always knew how to make him feel loved, even on his darkest days.

Once his boots were off, you stood and began unbuttoning his shirt. He chuckled softly, the sound warm and affectionate. “Are you trying to undress me, or is this just part of the pampering?”

“Maybe both,” you teased, your eyes twinkling.

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against your stomach as you worked. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered.

You paused, your hands stilling for a moment. “Jayce,” you said, your voice firm but gentle. “Don’t say that. You deserve all the love and care in the world. And I’ll keep reminding you of that until you believe it.”

He looked up at you, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You finished helping him out of his shirt and pants, leaving him in just his undershirt and boxers. Guiding him into bed, you pulled the blankets up around him, tucking him in like you would a child. He laughed softly at the gesture, his eyes already heavy-lidded.

“Stay with me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Always,” you replied, slipping into bed beside him, resting against the backboard of the bed. He immediately wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close and nuzzling his face into your stomach. His warmth was comforting, and you could feel the tension in his body slowly melting away.

For a while, neither of you spoke, the silence filled only by the sound of your breathing. You ran your fingers through his hair, the repetitive motion lulling him further into relaxation.

“You’re my safe place,” he murmured, his voice drowsy. “When everything else feels like it’s falling apart, you keep me grounded.”

You smile softly down at the man, continuing to weave your fingers through his brown locks. “And you’re mine, Jayce. We’re in this together, always.”

He smiled, a genuine smile that reached his eyes, even in the dim light. “I love you,” he said, the words soft but full of conviction.

“I love you too,” you replied, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand that is intertwined with your own.

As his breathing evened out and he drifted into sleep, you stayed there, holding him close. You knew the road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but as long as you had each other, you could face anything.

In that moment, with the world outside forgotten, you were his sanctuary, just as he was yours.

[xetlynn]

an artists muse- a viktor fic.

eight.

[seven] [eight] [nine]

a needle stuck, the same groove played.

Today was odd, the energy surrounding you felt off and wrong. You were tempted to not even go to your classes today because of it. It was pouring and gloomy. Normally you enjoyed the weather but something just didn’t feel right about the day. Your nerves were already off balance but now, in this very moment your arms hurt from how tense they were. 

You and Viktor walked side by side underneath his umbrella. “So, meet back at the cafe to finish the slides?” You ask, gripping the strap of your backpack. He hums in response. “Yup.” He nods his head. “Then after we finish the board we’ll have a week of no work in bio!” You clap your hands. You were trying your hardest to keep up a positive attitude lately that it was beginning to feel foreign and strange. 

“Very exciting.” His lips tug upward, looking down at you as you were looking straight ahead. Seemingly zoning out. He’s been catching you doing that frequently lately. “This is my stop, thank you for walking with me with your umbrella.” You give him a quick side hug to which he squeezes in return. 

“Of course, see you later.” He says, you nod your head. “See ya!” You hurriedly enter the building for your first class of the day. Viktor heads to his own, having to rush since now he only has five minutes to get there after taking you to your class. You repeatedly told him it was okay but he insisted. It kind of bit him back in the ass but to him it was worth it. Not minding being seconds late to his own lecture. 

“Uh, Vector, right?” A voice meeps out from behind him, giving him a slight startle. His hand gripped the umbrella a little tighter. “Viktor, you’re [Name]’s friend, right?” He raises a brow toward the ginger girl now walking beside him. She was holding her own umbrella so she kept some distance. 

“Kind of, not really at the moment.” She stammers but then shakes her head, getting back on track to what she wanted to say to him. “Doesn’t matter,” She breathes before she starts. He glances at her confused but still keeping a fast walking pace as he still needed to get to his class soon. “I’m uh, I want to apologize for what I did to you in high school. Telling you those awful things through [Name]’s account the way I did. You didn’t deserve that.” Her chin was quivering like she was about to cry. Viktor was confused by what she was saying. 

“I’m sorry that I ruined your guy’s friendship but I’m glad you reconciled with one another. She talked about you a lot, you went by Ma or something. I don’t know. Again I just wanted to apologize for what I did.” She places a hand on his shoulder with a sad smile. “I didn’t realize the stuff I said caused you two to stop being friends. I thought it was a funny prank. It definitely wasn’t at all.” She drops her hand back to her side. Viktor doesn’t say anything as he stops walking. His heart was racing as he repeated everything she just said in his head. 

Ma… She? [Name]? Angelicsunny, [name] is angelicsunny?

Suddenly he felt sick to his stomach. His legs felt like jello and he was truly clutching onto his cane for dear life. “You okay?” Maddie tilts her head to the side, reaching out to grab him, worried he was going to fall or something. He snaps out of it, looking up to the ginger. “Yeah… Thank you for your apology. I have to get to class.” He pushed past her, his feet were moving for him. He wasn’t in control anymore as he got to his lecture. 

His mind was spiraling. And the coffee he had drunk was threatening to spew back up. He couldn’t even pay attention to his three hour long lesson. He was playing back so many memories he had of you. The hours the two of you talked to one another as high schoolers. How didn’t he recognize your voice? Did you know this entire time? Is that why you talked to him? 

When the professor dismissed class he lazily pulled out his phone, immediately going to your art account and scrolling all the way down. Your very first post, something he skimmed over. This time he looks closely. It was a familiar little painting. This account had a different name at the time.

He gawks at this. Not able to believe this was happening. That he had to deal with something from four years ago. Well, he was never truly over what happened. He always looked at his blocked list, hovering over your old accounts. Wondering if he should talk to you again. It was always too much. It hurt too badly. 

The wounds still felt fresh as he thought about what was said. Would you even forgive him for blocking you? Not trusting your word and not hearing you out even in the slightest? 

When he looked back at it he knew he overreacted a little bit. But it hurt, it hurt so bad seeing those words being sent to you by the one person he truly trusted with all of his heart. Even though the two of you didn’t know one another's names or faces at the time you guys knew every single other detail. Venting to each other about life and things like that. You were his best friend. 

Now as he stood outside his class, staring at his phone screen and having to swipe to your chat he wanted to call you out for not telling him. He just wanted to know why you hid it. Was it some sort of game you were pulling trying to be his friend? Maybe hurt him again the way you did before? Thoughts raced. And raced before his fingers began to type at the device. 

—--------------------------------------------------

vik.tor_e- something came up, can’t meet up later. 

vik.tor_e- sorry. 

love.[name]3- it’s okay! no worries! 

love.[name]3- are you ok tho?

vik.tor_e- ya, dw about it. 

love.[name]3- umm ok…

—---------------------------------------------------

It had been three days since then. He hadn’t answered any other texts after that. He hadn’t been showing up to the cafe. You were starting to really get worried. You vented to Powder about it, not shutting up. She repeatedly told you it was probably just school related things. 

“Can you just ask Vi or something? Please.” You ask with a pleading expression. The blue-haired girl lets out a loud, dramatic sigh. “I’ll call and ask right now.” She grabs her phone and aggressively taps on it. Putting the phone to her ear. “Vi, can you do something for me?” She lazily inquires. “What do you want now?” 

“Is that Viktor dude, okay? [Name] said he hasn’t been showing up to their daily date things.” Powder sits up, picking at the paint on her nails that were already chipped. You glare at her, throwing a pillow in her direction. “They’re just hang outs.” You spit and she waves you to stop. 

“Uh he’s fine as well as I’m aware. Little more depressed than usual but it happens in the first semester for him for some reason.” Violet answers, not really showing worry for her friend. Kind of calming you down but also not. “Okay, thanks. Bye.” Powder hangs up the phone. “See, school stuff.” She flops back down, closing her eyes to attempt to take a nap like she was trying to do before you interrupted her with your anxiety. 

You gnaw at your bottom lip, still not feeling right about this. 

“Dude, you can’t hold a grudge this long. I’m sure she didn’t even know it was you.” Jayce esperates toward his friend as he was playing a game on his laptop. Viktor rolls his eyes, pacing back and forth in his room. “I know, I just, I can’t let go of this.” He explains, furrowing his brows. “It’s been four years. It might be good to talk with one another.” Jayce says, not really paying attention. 

“Yeah, but you don’t get what was said. I don’t know if I can actually forgive her.” Viktor frowns. “You won’t know unless you hear her out.” Jayce reminds him. “I don’t know…” 

“Well don’t the two of you have a class together tomorrow?” He glances up to the boy who nods quietly. “Then just talk after that.” Jayce shrugs his shoulders as if it were that simple. “We’ll see.” 

And as you stepped into your class your eyes immediately scan the room, landing on the boy who’s been missing for nearly four days. He peers up to you and you grin, waving at him. Viktor presses his lips together, barely lifting up his pointer finger in response. You sit in your seat, confused on what his deal is. And as you go to ask the professor starts his first speech of the day. 

The two of you pull out your notebooks for the class and you rip the bottom edge of one of the sheets. Scribbling down words before passing it over to your friend. He looks at it. 

Reading what you said. “U ok? Little worried about you. :(“ 

You watch as he takes a deep breath and then begins to write on the paper. Giving you a little bit of hope that it’s not about you. 

He slides it back over to you. 

“Talk after class. Angelicsunny.” 

Your face dropped instantaneously. Your head snapped to look at him but now he was avoiding your gaze. 

He knows. He knows and now this was the end of your friendship for a second time.

only five more chapters to go.

taglist: if you want to be added lmk! @policedeer @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @confusedgemposts @ang3lz-lov3 @almostdrowningdown @corpsepies @obittwo @bakusquadobsessed @ren-ni @xx-siren-sings-xx

[kirammanswifey]

how arcane characters would deal with mental disorders x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: writing this felt like giving myself a warm hug, a comfort that i needed. if anyone reading this is going through or has gone through any of these disorders, i want to tell you that you are very brave because it is not an easy thing, so feel proud of yourself. i hope you liked this as much as i did. as i'm a psychology student, i felt very motivated and i hope that it was quite understandable and enjoyable. as you already know request are open ;)

P.S. i know the other option won in the poll on my profile, but i need more time to refine the ideas and make something high quality that everyone will love, which i’ll be posting tomorrow ;)

Viktor Depression

The world around you feels like a constant weight, a heavy blanket that wraps around you, not letting you breathe. You wake up each day with a sense of emptiness in your chest, as if a black hole is absorbing all your energy, your motivation, your ability to feel anything other than sadness and apathy.

It’s not that you don’t want to get out of bed; it’s that the simple act of moving a finger feels like a titanic task. Fatigue is your constant companion, a shadow that never leaves you. Things that once filled you with joy now seem distant, irrelevant, as if they belonged to a life that is no longer yours.

The dark thoughts are your constant whispers, reminding you that you’re not enough, that it’s all pointless, that there’s no way out. Sometimes, you cry without knowing why; other times, you want to cry, but even that you can’t do. You feel trapped in an invisible prison, with no strength to fight your way out.

Viktor watches you from the doorway of your room, his gaze soft and full of concern. He knows the weight of shadows well, although his are different. Silently, he approaches and sits on the edge of the bed, not invading your space, but close enough for you to feel his presence.

“I have a new project I’m working on,” he says in a quiet voice, trying not to break the fragile bubble of your world. “I thought maybe you could join me today. You don’t have to do anything, just be there. Your company always helps me think.”

He doesn’t pressure you. Viktor understands that words can be hard to find when your mind is clouded by depression. He knows that the solution isn’t to force you to feel better, but to be with you, to offer you a hand, a small step forward.

He gently rises and offers his hand, not expecting you to take it, but hoping that you’ll know he’s there, ready to support you when you’re ready. “The world can wait,” he murmurs. “But I’m here, whenever you want to come back.”

His patience is infinite, his understanding deep. Viktor doesn’t try to fix you, because he doesn’t see you as broken. He knows that depression is a battle you fight every day, and he’s willing to walk alongside you, every small step, every shared silence.

You look at his hand, then his face; he’s concerned even though he tries to hide it. You make a huge effort to get out of bed, and even though your body doesn’t cooperate at first, you manage. You take his hand and gently squeeze it; that’s the most affection you can give him right now, you’re exhausted.

“Let’s go,” you murmur, your voice hoarse and broken; it’s the first time you’ve spoken all day.

You’re sitting next to Viktor in his small workshop, surrounded by pieces of metal and unfinished prototypes. He’s explaining his latest invention, a spark of enthusiasm lighting up his eyes. You feel a little better, enough to enjoy his company, and for a moment, a laugh escapes your lips when you hear one of his stories.

“Did you really say that to Heimerdinger?” you laugh, your eyes shining with a spark of life. It’s a small moment, but for Viktor, it’s like seeing the sun rise after a storm.

He smiles, pleased to have made you laugh. “Yes, and his face... It was certainly indescribable,” he replies with a softness that reflects his pleasure at seeing you enjoy yourself, even if just for an instant.

But suddenly, without warning, the laughter turns into a lump in your throat. The spark of joy fades as quickly as it came, and you find yourself trapped in a wave of overwhelming sadness. The tears start rolling down your cheeks, and you can’t stop them. The confusion in your eyes is evident, as if your body has betrayed the fleeting happiness you just felt.

Viktor notices immediately. He leans toward you, his expression turning serious, but his eyes remain warm and full of understanding. He doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t seek explanations that may be impossible to give. Instead, he moves a little closer, offering you his silent presence.

“It’s okay,” he says gently, his voice an anchor amidst your internal storm. “You don’t have to explain it. Just breathe.”

He offers you his hand, this time with more intent. You take it, feeling the warmth and firmness in his grip, a reminder that you’re not alone in this moment. You needed that contact. You needed to know that you could feel something other than sadness right now. Viktor doesn’t pull away, doesn’t feel uncomfortable. He knows that depression doesn’t follow rules, that it can strike at any moment, and he’s willing to stay with you, no matter how long it lasts.

“Do you want us to stay here?” he asks, his tone delicate. “Or we can walk a little, if that helps.”

His willingness to adapt to your needs wraps you in a sense of safety. Even though the tears keep falling, Viktor’s presence is a balm, a reminder that, even in the darkest moments, there’s someone who sees you, who understands you, and who’s willing to stay by your side.

“Just... stay here with me,” you say, letting yourself fall against his body, exhausted.

He caught you and wrapped you with care, it was a hug with the right amount of strength.

“Take your time, darling. I won’t go anywhere,” Viktor promised in a whisper, never stopping the caresses on your back.

And that was enough to make you feel less miserable.

Jinx Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)

The echo of the explosions still resonates in your mind, even though years have passed since that day when your world crumbled. The night everything you loved was consumed by flames in an attack on the Undercity. The night you lost your family and were left alone, with the screams and the smell of smoke forever etched in your memory.

As you walk beside Jinx through the bustling streets of Zaun, everything seems normal, almost calm, until an explosion in the distance makes your heart stop. It’s a dry, loud sound, far too similar to the one you heard that night. Without warning, your breath becomes shallow, your lungs struggle to take in air, and an overwhelming sense of absolute panic takes hold of you.

Your body freezes, and it feels as if the world around you disappears. The crowd, the lights, even Jinx—all fade away, leaving you alone in that dark place where time doesn’t move. The ground beneath your feet seems to give way, and you feel yourself falling again into that abyss of the past.

"Hey, hey!" Jinx’s voice cuts through the fog in your mind. Her hands grip your shoulders, and her gaze searches for yours with desperation. "You’re not there, do you hear me? You’re here, with me."

Her words feel distant, but the warmth of her hands somehow anchors you, reminding you that you’re not alone. "But... the sound..." you murmur, barely audible, as tears start to fall down your cheeks. "It was the same... the same as that night."

Jinx guides you to a quieter corner, away from the noise, holding your hand firmly. "Breathe, hon, like we always do," she says softly, her voice tinged with controlled urgency. "Fill up those lungs, okay? Like we’re balloons."

You try to follow her instructions, but every time you close your eyes to concentrate, the images of that night hit you with renewed force. "It’s not working," you whisper, trembling. "It’s always there. No matter how much I try, it doesn’t go away. It doesn’t go away!" You scream in panic, the fingers of your hands stiffening, making them immobile.

The worry in Jinx’s eyes softens a little, but there’s something else there, something you can only describe as recognition. "That explosion... it reminded me of something too," she says after a moment, her voice quieter, almost a whisper. "I’ve been there, in that fucked-up place, where the ghosts never stop screaming."

Her words are like a key that opens the door to a deeper understanding.

She falls silent for a moment, gazing into the distance before refocusing her attention on you. "When I have my attacks, you’re always there for me, and I remember I’m not alone. That helps me a lot," she admits, a small, almost sad smile curving her lips. "And you’re not alone either, hon. We’re not broken, just a little bent. And here we are, bent together."

The hug she offers you is warm and firm, a tangible reminder that you’re not alone. You feel her strength, her determination, and something else: her own fear, her own struggle. "You don’t have to fight alone," she whispers, her voice a promise. "If you ever feel like you’re going to fall, we’ll fall together. And then, we’ll rise. Always."

You cling to her like a lifeline, letting her warmth and her words anchor you to the present, if only for a moment. "Thank you, sweets," you whisper, allowing yourself, for the first time in a long time, to feel that it’s okay not to be okay.

Vi Anxiety Disorder

The night drags you into the abyss of your mind, but you find no respite. Instead of waking softly to the day, you're trapped in pure panic. Your chest burns, each breath a lost battle. Your heart gallops wildly, as if trying to escape your chest. You are drenched in sweat, the sheets sticking to your skin, becoming yet another prison.

Your eyes snap open, the darkness of the room seems to close in on you, and the silence is deafening. The sensation of suffocation consumes you. You try to gulp down air, but it's as though your lungs have forgotten how to function. Your hands search for something, anything, to anchor you to reality, but all they find is emptiness.

The door swings open abruptly, and Vi stands there, alert, her eyes filled with concern. She doesn't need to ask what’s wrong; she knows instantly. She moves swiftly but carefully, approaching you without frightening you further.

"Breathe with me," she says gently, her hands finding yours, steady yet comforting. "Inhale through your nose... like this... and exhale through your mouth."

You try to follow her, but your body won’t cooperate. Your breath is shallow, frantic, as though every breath disintegrates before it even reaches your lungs. Tears begin to streak down your cheeks, mixing with the sweat.

"Vi... I can’t... I can't... I’m scared," you stammer, your words broken by sobs. Your mind is caught in a loop of terror, every thought spiraling downward, taking you further away from calm.

Vi sits beside you on the bed, her voice low and constant. "Don’t be afraid. Listen to my voice. I’m here with you, and I won’t let anything bad happen to you." Her tone is firm, anchoring you in the present, pulling you out of the tide of your own fear.

"But it hurts... my chest... I can't breathe..." Your body trembles, and your hands clutch desperately at her grasp. The feeling of control slipping away is overwhelming, leaving you feeling helpless.

Vi pulls you into an embrace, holding you close, offering her calm, her strength. "This is temporary. It won’t last forever," she whispers in your ear. "Trust me. Focus on me."

Slowly, very slowly, her voice cuts through the fog of your mind. You begin to breathe more deeply, following her rhythm, feeling how her presence stabilizes you, like a lighthouse in the storm. The pain in your chest begins to lessen, the pressure relents just a little, and your body starts to remember how to breathe without fighting.

Vi continues to speak, her voice a soft murmur, calming you with every word. "You’re strong. You have control, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now."

The tears still flow, but now they are tears of relief, not fear. "Don’t leave... don’t leave. I need you here," you whisper, your voice broken but sincere.

Vi strokes your hair, her other hand gently squeezing yours. "I’m not going anywhere, little doe," she says affectionately, kissing your forehead, tasting the salty remnants of your sweat.

You remain in her arms a moment longer, allowing yourself to rest, letting her strength hold you as you regain your own. Gradually, the panic fades, leaving only exhaustion and the certainty that Vi will always be by your side, no matter how dark the nights may get.

Caitlyn Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD)

The silence in the apartment is deafening. The only sound that breaks the stillness is the relentless ticking of the wall clock, its rhythm echoing in your ears like a hammer. You’re in the kitchen, eyes fixed on the glasses you’ve meticulously arranged in the cupboard. Each glass must be perfectly spaced, each one aligned to the exact same level. Symmetry isn’t just a preference—it’s a necessity. If something is out of place, you feel as though the whole world could collapse.

Your breathing is uneven, your chest rising and falling in quick succession. "One, two, three..." you murmur to yourself, counting each movement. Your hands tremble, but you can’t stop. You can’t stop. If you do, something terrible will happen. You don’t know what, but the certainty that it will be catastrophic clings to you like a shadow.

Caitlyn enters the apartment after a long day at work. Her expression shifts instantly when she sees you in the kitchen, trapped in your own ritual. She stops in the doorway, watching you with a mix of concern and sadness. It’s not the first time she’s found you like this, but each time, it hurts her as though it were.

"Darling?" Her voice is soft, as if afraid to shatter you. She steps closer, carefully setting her hat down on the table. "What are you doing?"

You don’t answer at first, your eyes still fixed on the glasses. "Almost done... just a few more minutes," you whisper, your voice trembling. You can’t stop. Every glass moved, every small adjustment is a battle between reason and irrational fear.

Caitlyn stops beside you, her eyes scanning the scene, seeing the perfect pattern you’ve created. "You don’t have to do this," she says gently, yet firmly.

Your hands freeze for a moment, but the urge to continue is too strong. "You don’t understand... if I don’t do it right, if they’re not perfectly aligned, something bad is going to happen." Tears begin to well up in your eyes, the pressure in your chest intensifying. "I don’t want you to think I’m crazy, but it’s like my mind... it can’t stop."

Caitlyn takes a deep breath, her hand reaching out to touch your shoulder delicately. "You’re not crazy," she says, locking eyes with you. "I know this is hard, that your mind doesn’t give you peace. But you don’t have to face it alone. Let me help you."

You turn to look at her, your eyes filled with desperation. "I can’t stop, Cait. If I do, I feel like everything will fall apart. I can’t control what’s happening inside my head."

Caitlyn nods slowly, her gaze unwavering from yours. "I know, darling. And I know this won’t be fixed in a day. But I’m here, and I’m going to stay by your side. We’ll face it together."

Her words anchor you, a beacon in the storm that is your mind. Slowly, almost against your will, your hands begin to lower, moving away from the glasses. The fear is still there, a current running just beneath the surface, threatening to overwhelm you, but Caitlyn is beside you, her presence a reminder that you’re not alone.

"Breathe with me," she says, her voice soft and steady. "Inhale... exhale... together."

You follow her instructions, though your lungs seem to resist, full of anxiety. Caitlyn guides you, her hand never leaving your shoulder. "See? We’re doing it! You’re doing it!" She encourages, kissing your neck when she notices you’ve looked away from the glasses for five seconds. It was only five seconds, but Caitlyn knew it was a huge accomplishment, and she celebrated it.

You let out a small sigh, the tension in your muscles easing slightly. Your hands travel to Caitlyn’s waist, moving her so the glasses are no longer in your line of sight. You let your head fall against her chest, breathing in her scent. It’s so much better, especially when you start counting the beats of her heart.

"How brave my wonderful and glorious girlfriend is. I’m so proud of you," she whispered, her fingers weaving through your hair as she praised you.

"Cait, I love you so much. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me," you whisper against her warm chest, unwilling to leave that comforting refuge.

Caitlyn chuckles softly, and it feels like music to your ears.

"I feel the same way, darling," Caitlyn replied, gently swaying your bodies from side to side in a small rhythm.

You know that your compulsions won’t disappear, that the need for control will remain, but with Caitlyn, you feel like you can face it one day at a time.

Jayce Narcissistic Personality Disorder

The mirror in your room is your judge, jury, and executioner. Every imperfection is a sentence, every flaw a conviction. You spend hours in front of it, adjusting, retouching, trying to reach a perfection that always seems to slip through your fingers. Your heart beats fast, not from excitement, but from the constant fear that the world will see the cracks beneath your flawless facade.

Jayce enters quietly, his presence comforting and, at the same time, a threat. What will he think? Does he notice the imperfections you see? He steps closer, his gaze soft, but you feel the weight of his eyes as if he's scrutinizing every flaw.

"Love, it's late. Come to bed," he says in a calm voice, trying to distract you from your self-destructive spiral.

"Just one more moment," you reply without looking at him, your focus still on the mirror, searching for symmetry in your features, perfection in the unattainable.

Jayce sits on the edge of the bed, watching you. "You've been here for hours. You don't have to do this. You're beautiful just as you are."

His statement, though well-intentioned, feels like a white lie. "You don’t understand, Jayce," you murmur, your voice trembling with suppressed frustration. "If I’m not perfect, I’m nobody. I can’t let them see my flaws. I can't let… you see them."

Jayce stands, walking toward you carefully, as if approaching a flickering flame. "You don’t have to be perfect to be loved," he says, his words a whisper in the storm raging in your mind. "You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, least of all to me."

Your gaze finally meets his through the reflection. Tears fight their way out, but you can't allow such weakness. "It's not that simple," you whisper. "Every day, every look, every word, it’s all a test. And if I fail…"

Jayce places his hands on your shoulders, his eyes filled with compassion and infinite patience. "If you fail, I’ll be here to lift you up."

"And what if I’m not enough?" The question slips out before you can stop it, the insecurity behind your narcissism showing in all its rawness. "What if one day you realize you deserve something better?"

Jayce leans in, his forehead touching yours, a gesture so intimate it almost breaks you. "I deserve someone who loves me for who I am, not for what I pretend to be. And that’s exactly what you are to me. I don’t have impossible expectations of you. I just want you to be happy, to find peace in who you are."

The internal struggle within you is fierce. The fear of rejection, the desire for perfection, the need to be seen and admired, all mix together in a whirlwind that consumes you. But in Jayce's arms, for a moment, the noise silences. His love is not a chain, but a refuge, one that offers rest if only you can let yourself fall into it.

"How can you be so sure?" you ask, your voice broken but curious.

"Because I love you," he answers without hesitation. "And love isn’t about waiting for perfection. It’s about accepting every part of you, even the ones you think are flaws."

The tears finally make their way out, releasing something within you that has been held back for so long. Jayce holds you as you cry, whispering words of comfort, letting all the pressure, fear, and anguish flow out of you.

"You’re perfect," you whisper, your voice cracked but full of sincerity. In your mind, Jayce is the epitome of everything you don’t believe you are: strong, confident, unshakable.

Jayce smiles softly, his hand caressing your cheek, wiping away the tears still falling. "No, I’m just a man in love. A man who loves you madly." His voice is warm, filled with a tenderness that disarms you. "Why don’t you show me that precious smile of yours? Please, it would make me so happy."

His sweet words touch your heart, and the corners of your lips stretch on their own, forming a sad smile.

"Gorgeous," Jayce murmured, caressing your lips with his strong, calloused fingers.

"Flatterer," you reply with a more elaborate smile, your eyes still wet, but now with a different shine, one that reflects the spark of hope he’s ignited in you.

"I’m just stating facts. I’m a scientist, honey, so I can tell you that, from my perspective, it’s scientifically proven that you’re gorgeous," he commented wryly, a wit that made you laugh.

Jayce smiled and kissed your forehead, holding you firmly in his arms. Finally, you feel like you can breathe, like air is filling your lungs again without that constant weight on your chest.

Ekko Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD)

The room is silent except for the soft hum of music playing in the background, but your mind cannot stop racing. Your thoughts scatter like arrows shot in every direction. You try to focus on something, anything, but it feels as though your brain is in a constant battle between the ideas that come and go. The light from the lamp flickers irregularly, and for a moment, you wonder if the bulb is about to explode. This makes no sense, you know that, but the unease lingers.

You quickly get up from the bed, taking a misstep, tripping over a chair you hadn’t seen, barely avoiding it. Your heart races. Everything is a series of chaotic jumps in your head, an endless torrent of thoughts that can’t follow a single path. You look at the desk, with papers scattered about—unfinished projects, ideas you can’t ground. Everything calls to you, but you can’t focus on anything.

Your hands tremble slightly as you grab the pen and begin to write down an idea that came to you, but before you finish the sentence, a new image flashes in your mind. You stop, leaving the pen on the desk and staring out the window. Something about the glow of the stars makes you think of something else. You can’t concentrate. Everything distracts you, even the small noises you used to never notice. It’s so annoying.

Suddenly, you feel the stress begin to accumulate in your shoulders. It’s not just the lack of concentration; it’s the sense of constantly running toward something without ever arriving. You try to finish a task, but more and more thoughts pile up, projects, things that need doing. Everything seems urgent, and nothing seems possible to complete. Anxiety settles in your chest.

You’re about to get up again when you hear the sound of the door opening behind you. Ekko enters the room, his calming presence is the only thing that makes you stop for a moment. He watches you in silence for a few seconds, noticing the frenzy of your movements. You hadn’t realized, but your breathing is irregular, and you’ve gotten up twice without purpose. Something isn’t right.

He watches you quietly, understanding the internal struggle you’re facing. He knows what this means, what it costs you every day.

“What’s going on? Why are you so worked up?” he asks, his voice soft but with enough authority to make you stop and listen.

Your eyes focus on a fixed point, but you can’t find the words to explain what you’re feeling. You don’t know how to put into words what’s happening. It’s like you’re trapped in a cycle of thoughts that never stop.

“My mind... it doesn’t stop moving,” you finally manage to say, almost in a whisper. “Every time I try to do something, it’s like something else distracts me. Nothing stays. Everything slips away.”

Ekko watches you silently for a moment, understanding the fight you’re facing. He knows exactly what this feels like.

“I get it, babe,” he responds, his tone firm but gentle. “I know your mind’s all over the place right now, but I promise we can do this one step at a time. We’ll focus on one thing at a time, no pressure. Sound good?”

The fact that Ekko is offering to be there, without judgment, brings you relief. You know that the impulsiveness you feel, the urge to move without a plan, is something that consumes you. Your mind jumps from one thought to another, and each of those thoughts feels like an urgent need, an immediate necessity. But at the same time, nothing makes sense. Everything is scattered and out of control.

“It’s just that...” your words fade into the air, unable to be completed. You feel trapped in your own body, in your own brain. You can’t stop, but you can’t move forward either.

Ekko gently places a hand on your shoulder, his touch calming. “How can we start?” he asks sincerely, not rushing you. “Tell me what you need.”

For a moment, everything seems to stop. The flood of thoughts quiets down, and for the first time in a long while, you can think clearly, even if it’s just for an instant. It’s not about having everything figured out right away; it’s about feeling that someone is there, willing to stand by you while you navigate through the mental whirlwind.

“I just... I don’t know how to do it without jumping from one thing to another,” you murmur, frustration and shame creeping into your voice. “I feel like everything’s overwhelming, and I can’t focus on anything.”

“We’ll take it slow,” Ekko replies, his tone calm and direct. “First, breathe. The first step is to breathe, and then we can start with just one thing. The rest can wait.”

You close your eyes for a moment and follow his words. You breathe deeply, slowly, trying to find the balance that always seems so hard to reach. Ekko is there, not rushing you, waiting for your mind to settle. With his help, little by little, you manage to focus on one small task, one that’s manageable enough not to overwhelm you. It’s just one step, but it’s a step toward calm.

“You don’t have to do it all right now,” Ekko says softly. “What matters is that you’re not alone in this. We’ll go step by step.”

You feel the knot in your stomach loosening, even though there’s still much to do. But at this moment, with him by your side, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you can find a way toward a little peace.

After hours of work and soft laughter, you’re sitting on the floor, with Ekko beside you, both looking at the pieces left to place in a puzzle. It’s almost complete, the pieces fitting perfectly, and though the hours have flown by, you feel lighter, the atmosphere quieter.

“One more,” Ekko says with a smile, holding up a piece in the air. He passes it to you, and together, you place it in its spot, completing the picture. The puzzle is done, and though it’s a small accomplishment, it feels more meaningful than it seems. Not just because of what you’ve completed, but because you’ve managed to feel centered, accompanied.

When you look at the drawing you had left unfinished, now finally complete, you feel a deep sense of satisfaction. Ekko helped bring to life the image that only existed in your mind, his hands working alongside yours, following every line with care.

“You did it,” Ekko says, his eyes shining with pride. “My girl is incredible.” He pulled you into his lap and kissed your forehead.

You look at him, your heart beating a little faster. The fatigue of the afternoon washes over you, but you don’t care. All that matters is that he’s here, by your side, and that, for once, you feel at peace. The air feels lighter, as if the space between you two has been reduced, softened by the stillness of the moment.

“Thank you,” you murmur, your words barely a whisper, but full of gratitude.

Ekko turns toward you, his expression softening. “Don’t thank me. Thank yourself. You’re the one who made it happen, not me.”

The way he looks at you, the way his presence has become part of your space, makes you smile. And, in a moment of impulse, without thinking too much about it, you move a little closer. He seems to understand it instantly, and before you can second-guess yourself, his lips brush against yours. It’s a soft kiss, no rush, no urgency, just a moment where words aren’t needed.

When you pull away, both of you stay there, looking at each other, the air between you charged with something that doesn’t need to be named. Ekko smiles, his eyes sparkling with that glint that makes you feel as though everything is right, as if the world, for a moment, is in its place.

“Everything’s okay now,” Ekko says softly, filling you with calm.

And in that instant, you believe him.

Silco Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD)

The air in Silco's office is thick with tension, as always. The sound of the bustling city echoes through the glass windows, but inside, everything is still, almost as rigid as the gaze Silco fixes on you. You're sitting across from him, feeling a familiar dizziness, as if everything is out of control and, at the same time, you're trapped in an empty space. A mix of confusion and anxiety courses through every fiber of your being.

Your hands tremble slightly, and although you try to control your breathing, each inhalation seems to sink you further into the internal chaos. The voices in your head blend together, demanding answers, claiming something you can't give. Silco watches you calmly, but it's a cold, calculated calm, as if everything that's going on inside you is a game he knows how to play.

You feel the emptiness consuming you, and yet an unbearable pressure weighs on your chest. Your mind betrays you, throwing destructive thoughts at you, telling you you're worthless, that everything you do is doomed to fail. The contradiction is overwhelming: on one hand, you feel lost, and on the other, you refuse to give in to the feeling of helplessness.

"Are you alright?" Silco asks, his voice low and steady, but there's a slight intensity in his tone. He doesn't break eye contact, as if he's evaluating every micro-expression on your face, every movement. He knows you're not, but still, he asks. Is it a test? A need to know how far you can go? The silence stretches on, and your thoughts only intensify.

The urge to stand up and run from it all is strong. Everything in you screams to follow your impulses, to escape, to flee from the overwhelming weight of it all. But you stay there, because something in you knows that running will only plunge you deeper into the darkness you're feeling inside. You see yourself fighting, trying to maintain control, but every second makes you feel more lost.

"I'm sorry... I don't know what's happening to me," you whisper, your voice broken, struggling against the avalanche of emotions threatening to drown you. You feel the tears pressing behind your eyes, but you force yourself to keep composure. "It's just... it's all so intense. So confusing."

Silco keeps watching you in silence. There's no judgment in his gaze, only a calculated assessment, as if he's reading between the lines of your suffering. After a long moment, he sighs and stands up from his chair, approaching you slowly. It's not a sudden gesture, but calm, as if he's used to dealing with people who struggle with their own minds. He says nothing, but his presence is the only thing anchoring you in this moment.

With one hand, he takes yours. The contact is firm, but not aggressive, as if he's giving you space to breathe, but also space to not escape. In his eyes, something changes. There's an understanding that you can't fully decipher, but it fills you with a strange sensation, like, for the first time in a long time, you're not alone in the storm raging inside you.

"Your mind is betraying you," Silco says calmly, his voice soft but full of an authority that makes you feel that everything happening has a purpose. "It's an enemy that everyone must face at some point. But you don't have to face it alone."

The words fall on you like a stone, but strangely, they allow you to relax, even if only for a moment. The internal chaos you've always felt halts for an instant. And in that silence, you're finally able to breathe.

"All of this... this emptiness, the feeling that nothing matters, it's not your fault," Silco continues, his tone firm, though not without a strange gentleness. "It's just a phase, a moment that will pass. But you need to control it. Not let it take over you."

You feel vulnerable, but at the same time, a part of you relaxes in his closeness. Silco doesn't tell you that it's okay, nor does he promise easy solutions. He speaks to you with reality, with that harshness that you know comes from someone who understands suffering, but who doesn't have time to sugarcoat the truth.

"What you're feeling is real, but it's also transient. Not everything is as final as you think," he adds, his gaze fixed on yours with intensity. "You can be stronger than this."

The words resonate in your mind as you take a deep breath. You don't know if you fully believe them, but for some reason, in this moment, the darkness feels less imposing. You're not completely free of it, but at least you feel you're not entirely alone. Silco is here, firm and without judgment, waiting for you to take control of your own mind, without expecting you to do it immediately, but giving you the possibility to believe that you'll manage.

The pressure in your chest doesn't disappear completely, but a small crack of calm starts to open within you. And though you know your inner struggles won't end immediately, for the first time in a long while, you don't feel as lost. Silco looks at you one last time, without haste, but with a silent certainty.

"When you're ready, you can get out of this. I'll be here."

You're surprised by how firm his voice sounds, as if, by saying it, he's committed to being a constant presence. And although you don't fully understand how he does it, you realize that, in this moment, his steadiness helps you more than any empty words of comfort.

The world continues around you, but somehow, Silco has given you the strength to face it.

The silence between you and Silco lingers for a moment, but it's no longer the same silence as before. There's a strange peace, almost comforting, in the way he holds you, in the closeness you now feel between you both. The contact of his hand, firm and steady, gives you an anchor amidst the storm that still rages inside you.

A sigh escapes your lips without you noticing, and for a moment, it's not one of despair, but of relief. Silco, still keeping his gaze fixed on you, takes one more step closer. It's not a quick or rushed step, but a calculated one, as if he's sure that, in this moment, the only thing you need is that closeness, that calm presence.

Without saying anything, his fingers gently caress your cheek, a soft gesture that cuts through you. There's a tenderness in his movements that you hadn't anticipated, something that seems in complete contradiction with the person you know, but that, in this moment, comforts you more than any words. You feel vulnerable, but you don't fear it, not now.

Your breathing gradually calms, and Silco, silently, moves a little closer, so close that you can feel the warmth of his body. The space between you is almost nonexistent now, and you can feel his breath in rhythm with yours. There's something in his presence that soothes you, that gives you the feeling that everything will be okay, even though it still feels hard to believe.

Finally, his lips come close to yours with an unexpected softness. It's not a hasty or desperate kiss, but something slower, more measured. The brush of his lips against yours is so gentle that it surprises you, as if he's waiting for you to accept it, for you to be ready. And you are. Though your mind is still filled with doubts and fears, something inside you tells you that this is the moment you can allow yourself to be vulnerable, that you can receive something that won't hurt you.

The kiss deepens slowly, and in that instant, the world seems to fade away around you. All that remains is the warmth of his body, the firmness of his arms around you, and the gentle contact of his lips, like a silent promise that, even though the future is uncertain, for a moment, everything is alright.

When you finally pull away, no words are needed. Silco looks at you with an intensity you've never seen before, but in his eyes, there's something more, something you can't describe, something that makes you feel that, despite everything you've been through, you're not alone.

"I told you you were strong," he whispers, his voice deep and soft at the same time.

And for a moment, everything seems enough.

Mel Chronic Stress Disorder

The atmosphere is thick with tension, but it's a different kind of tension. It's a quiet calm, yet at the same time, it is filled with the constant threat of what could happen. You’re there, in one of the rooms of the mansion, sitting on a chair by the window, gazing out at the illuminated city, but unable to really see anything. The world around you seems to blur, as if a layer of fog has settled over your senses, blurring every detail and leaving only the emptiness of your thoughts.

Mel, who has been watching your behavior for the past few minutes, approaches with a palpable gentleness in her movements. Her presence is firm, but not intrusive. From a distance, she’s observed how the symptoms of your chronic stress have taken over you, how anxiety and mental exhaustion have combined to make you feel beyond your limits.

She crouches slightly to be at your level, her eyes fixed on yours, searching for your attention. “I notice you’re not yourself, and I know it’s because the weight of everything has piled up,” she says in a low voice, her tone soft yet firm. “But I want you to listen. You have the right to rest. You don’t have to carry the world, not all the time.”

Despite her words, you feel a pressure in your chest that won’t ease. Everything feels too big, too heavy. Chronic stress consumes you, leaving your thoughts tangled while your body responds with a deep exhaustion that doesn’t seem to go away no matter what you do.

Mel, noticing the internal struggle that consumes you, steps closer and, without warning, places a firm hand on your shoulder. It’s not a gesture of force, but of support. A sign that she’s here, silently, but available to help you find the balance you need.

“Your body is telling you it needs to stop,” she continues, with a softness that’s hard to deny. “Those moments of despair, of exhaustion... they’re real. But you don’t have to go through it alone, no matter how much you think you can.”

The contact of her hand on you, her quiet strength, begins to offer some relief. Even though the weight still lingers, something in you relaxes. It’s as if her words offer you a rope to hold onto, something tangible in the fog that seems to surround your mind.

You lean forward, your fingers briefly touching your forehead as you try to calm the agitation still coursing through you. The stress, that constant pressure in your life, seems unwilling to let go of you, but at least in this moment, with Mel by your side, you can breathe a little more deeply.

“I’ll be here,” Mel whispers, like an unbreakable promise. “If you need to rest, I’ll help you find peace. You don’t have to go on alone.”

For the first time in a long time, you allow yourself to think that, maybe, it’s possible to let go of some of that burden. Mel’s voice, soft yet full of certainty, is a refuge in the midst of the chaos in your mind.

Mel doesn’t expect you to feel guilty for your exhaustion. She doesn’t demand that you change or “overcome” your chronic stress overnight. She only gives you space to feel what you need to feel and to acknowledge that, even though the road may be long, you don’t have to walk it alone.

When your eyes lift and meet hers, there’s something in your gaze that softens. The stress doesn’t vanish immediately, but the simple fact that someone understands you, that someone is staying with you without judging, gives you something you didn’t have before: the possibility of healing.

The silence between you both is comfortable. It’s a silence of acceptance and understanding. And as Mel remains by your side, her presence becomes something that offers comfort, not an immediate solution, but a step toward the calm you so desperately need.

After a long silence, Mel slowly approaches you, and her eyes, filled with softness and understanding, capture you. She takes your hand, with a delicacy that makes you feel lighter, as if the weight of your mind could lessen just with that contact.

“You know, right?” she whispers, her voice gentle but firm. “I’ve seen you fight, and still, you’re here, being so incredible. And to me, that’s what really matters. Not everything you’ve been through, but who you are now.”

The sparkle in her eyes makes you blush slightly, and your heart beats a little faster.

“Mel...” you whisper, barely able to find the words, feeling your nerves breaking. “I don’t know what I’d do without you…”

She smiles, moving closer. “I’m here, for whatever you need, for anything, always.”

Without saying another word, Mel gently caresses your cheek, as if every movement is a silent promise. Then, you see her lean in toward you, her face so close to yours that you can feel the brush of her breath.

“You’re my refuge, you know that, right?” Mel says, with sincerity that runs deep within you.

And without another word, her lips find yours, in a tender, almost urgent kiss, as if she wanted to convey everything she couldn’t with words. When she pulls away, her eyes shine with an unmistakable softness.

“I love you, with all my being. And that won’t change.”

You shiver slightly at her words, but instead of insecurity, you find comfort. Her eyes transmit calm to you, and for the first time, you realize that she’s willing to be the peace you so need.

Sevika Bipolar Disorder

The darkness surrounds you, but it’s not physical darkness; it’s something denser, creeping through every corner of your mind. It’s one of those days. You don’t know for sure, but you feel it deep in your gut: something has changed. There’s a void in your chest that you don’t know how to fill, and a sensation in your stomach that twists you up. You’ve been through this before. The bipolar disorder drags you, takes you as its own without warning, pushing you from one extreme to the other in a matter of hours, minutes.

You wake up feeling the weight of sadness, a sadness that feels physical, sinking you into the mattress as if the sheets were lead. You don’t want to move, think, or do anything. You just feel empty, as if all your strength has evaporated. The room seems smaller, the walls pressing in on you. Your legs don’t respond when you try to get up. A knot forms in your throat, but the tears won’t come. There’s no energy for that, just the weight of despair.

You don’t see her enter. Her presence is silent, but solid. Sevika knows something is wrong, she feels it even before you tell her. When you look at her, her expression doesn’t change, but there’s something in her eyes that makes you feel that the situation is serious. There’s no surprise, no fear, just a cold, calculating understanding. Sevika isn’t one to lose her calm easily. And that makes you even more confused, making you feel like you don’t belong in that moment, like you’re not the person she expects to see.

“What’s going on?” she asks, not softening anything. The question isn’t condescending, nor filled with concern. It’s direct, almost harsh, she doesn’t beat around the bush. She knows that, when you’re like this, empty words don’t help.

You struggle to form a response. You can’t, really. Your thoughts are tangled in an incomprehensible chaos. But she doesn’t expect you to explain anything. Sevika approaches, sits on the edge of the bed. Her gaze never leaves you, as if she’s evaluating your soul, searching for a point of vulnerability, a sign of what to do next. She has the ability to see beyond your emotions, beyond the depression that consumes you and the anxiety that makes you tremble. She knows that right now there’s nothing rational in your mind, but understanding is her only response. Patience mixes with a slight touch of toughness, as she always does with things she can’t control.

“You’re staying here. You’re not going to do anything impulsive. You’re not going to try to run out of here or make this worse,” she says with a calm coldness that leaves no room for objection. You know that, in this moment, she’s the only voice of reason you can hear.

You’re aware that Sevika is used to dealing with extreme situations, but this one is different. She watches you closely, but from a distance, as if she’s weighing the damage, calculating what she can do to keep you safe. You don’t see fear in her, but you see resolve. She doesn’t switch into “rescuer mode,” she doesn’t try to hug you or tell you that everything will be fine. What she says, she says with authority because she knows that if she gives in, chaos will take control, and everything she’s worked to keep stable will fall apart.

In the internal struggle between your broken mind and the anger that begins to build up inside of you, Sevika is the rock that keeps you from diving into the void. But she also knows she can’t ignore your emotions. Her expression hardens slightly when she realizes there’s something more going on. “I’m telling you this because you know it, not because I need to explain it to you,” she whispers, making it clear that there’s no room for games.

When you finally speak, it’s in whispers, as if your words have weight and could break you. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’m... I’m so tired of this constant back and forth. I can’t handle it.”

Sevika doesn’t change her posture. She doesn’t tell you that she’s going to “fix” you, nor does she try to cure you. She knows that what you have doesn’t have an easy fix, but she does have tools to deal with the situation. “You don’t need to fix anything right now. You need to rest. Let what’s going to happen, happen, but don’t make decisions you’ll regret later. Do you understand me?” her voice is firm, but underneath there’s something else, a touch of softness she rarely shows.

The air in the room is heavy, laden with the weight of your thoughts, like a fog that prevents you from seeing beyond. Sevika is there, watching you with the same intensity as always, but with an odd calm, a calm that scares you because it makes you feel like she sees it all: the chaos consuming you, the internal battle between despair and rage.

“I don’t want this to control me. I don’t want to be like this,” you murmur, the words coming out broken. You know you’re saying it more to yourself than to her, but still, the guilt pierces your chest like invisible needles. You feel like you’re not being who she expects.

Sevika stays silent for a moment, her gaze fixed on you. There’s something in her face, a line of tension in her jaw, as if she’s weighing every word before speaking. Finally, she gets a little closer, breaking the distance between your bodies.

“It’s not about what you expect from yourself. It’s about what you need right now. And what you need right now is rest, stop fighting against something you can’t control.”

Your eyes search hers, those eyes that always seem to understand more than you can verbalize. And, somehow, you feel that there’s no judgment in them, just a silent acceptance of what you’re going through. It’s strange. In the middle of the storm in your mind, Sevika gives you the feeling of being the only anchor left in your world.

Suddenly, she stretches out a hand toward you, not rushing, not in a hurry, but with the firmness that characterizes her. You take it without thinking, as if it’s the only thing that can stop the flood of erratic thoughts flooding your mind. Her touch is warm, comforting. There’s a strength in that simple gesture, something that allows you to relax, even if just for a second.

“I’m going to take care of you, understand?” she whispers, her voice low, barely a breath. There are no empty promises in her words, just a statement of fact. But in her tone, you find a softness that she rarely shows. It’s like, for a brief moment, her heart opens a little more, even if she doesn’t fully recognize it.

The moment stretches on, and even though the storm in your mind hasn’t ceased, there’s something in you that feels a little lighter. Sevika doesn’t have the solution to your pain, but her presence, her closeness, gives you a peace you never even imagined.

Without thinking, you move a little closer to her, seeking that warmth. Her fingers interlace with yours, and for the first time all day, you don’t feel completely broken. Sevika has never promised you a happy ending, but in this moment, you don’t need one. The simple fact of being here, of having her close, gives you a reason to keep going, even if just for a little while longer.

“I love you,” you say without thinking, and the words come out with a clarity that surprises you. It’s not a grand declaration, it’s not a promise that everything will be okay, but it’s something real, something you never thought you could say to anyone before.

“I love you too, doll,” she responds with a half-smile, though her eyes seem softer than ever. And, for a second, the world seems to stop. The anxiety, the disorder in your head, dissipate, if only for a brief moment.

She leans in a little toward you, and in that instant, all that matters is the touch of her lips on your forehead, a simple gesture but filled with affection. The silence between you both is comfortable, no pressure, just the comfort of being together, knowing that, even if the world around you falls apart, Sevika will be the one to keep you steady.

[5five5five5five5five5five]

Grace / the nannies / pogo somehow managing to get Reginald to rent out a children's museum for the evening just once when the kids are like 5-6 (maybe for their birthday). They needed something to get all their energy out.

Five and Viktor in a big plastic fake tree reading books and then going to the fake supermarket, where Luther and Allison are playing house and forced Ben to be their kid. Ben wants to go to the theater where Klaus has put on a one kid retelling of the ugly duckling with no audience.

Baby Diego is either clinging to grace for dear life and not knowing what to do........or has made it his mission to sneak around and throw something at each sibling without getting caught. Five and Viktor are the hardest targets bc they have cooped themselves up in the tree.

Diego also sneaking off because he wants to play in the water zone but the adults told him not to. He comes back sopping wet but very happy. An adult has to get him changed.

Klaus comes out of the theater costume zone dressed to the nines and proclaims himself mayor of hargreeves-ville. No one listens. Five will be the only one to call him mayor for the rest of the evening. But not respect said title.

Luther ends up playing in the"boring" science kid zone for a while well Allison and Ben join Klaus in the theater.

Diego ends up in the tree but he very dangerously climbed up on it. He's stuck. No one notices till Klaus screams, causing everyone to try and get him down.

Five and Viktor end up in the theater. Viktor plays with the instruments well five becomes a butthole director to everyone. Klaus isn't having fun anymore and runs to the supermarket.

Most of them end up in the fake supermarket and have a big group play, assigning jobs and trying to actually get along. It goes as well as u would think. Klaus can't stop beep scanning things and annoying everyone with it. Five ends up enjoying fake arguing like a Karen too much and it genuinely starts to get on Allison's nerves along with the beeping. "I heard a rumor everyone was quiet!!" Then dead silence. Allison feels bad but let's it stay for a few seconds longer before "I heard a rumor that you guys could talk again~" she gives five a weak smile, hoping he doesn't explode. five gives her the biggest scowl and maybe even some tears. I think five HATES being rumored. Ends up running away from the whole thing.

Viktor has a bit too much fun going "should I get this one....ooor this one" it's two of the same toy steaks. He asks five witch one then ben. Both say the left. He gets the right.

Ben is the "manager" and is hating his existence. He ends up enjoying stocking the shelves and ignoring everything around him. Probably took a audio book cassette player from the reading tree and has been blocking everything out. Also him using his tentacles to sort things.

Luther was still in the science zone and bumps into a very upset five. ever the number 1 caring bro , Luther tries his best to comfort him. They end up away from everyone to play in a big fake rocket ship. Viktor eventually joins, holding a shopping bag with his lone toy steak in it.

Diego and Klaus end up doing arts and crafts and get covered in glitter.

They all end the day covered in glitter, wet, probably covered in stickers and marker. They need to be sneaked into the house so hargreeves doesn't see and quick to the baths (the security got it and the nannies and pogo got a ear full later) they were clean as a whistle by the time dinner rolls around.

They never have an outing like that again and barely remember it.

[just1cefor4ll]

—You’re the kind of person they write rock songs about

—modern!au Viktor x fem!reader warning. not proof read, might be OOC, swearing

part one || part two || part three

‼️A/N. if anyone wants to be added to the taglist for this fic, let me know!! ‼️

‘I need someome to show me the things

in life that I can’t find.’

With a loud thud, Powder burst into the room, stumbling over her own feet and nearly causing your morning coffee to spill all over your art project—a project due in just under a week. "Powder! Jesus—slow down!" you exclaimed, letting out a frustrated groan as you steadied your coffee mug. Taking a long sip to steady your nerves, you swiveled in your desk chair to face her, one brow raised in curiosity. "So, what’s got you in such a rush?"

Powder was practically vibrating with excitement, her energy contagious enough to turn your initial annoyance into amusement. "You know that café with the whole vintage, 80s vibe you’ve been dying to visit?" she began, her tone filled with anticipation. Immediately, your ears perked up, and your confusion began to shift into hope. “Yeah, what about it? They’re always booked solid. Did something happen?” Instead of answering, she squealed with delight and shoved her phone in front of your face. On the screen was a reservation confirmation—a table for eight at 12 o’clock.

Your eyes widened as you did a double take. “No way.” Checking the time, you saw you had exactly an hour and fifteen minutes to get ready. Without hesitation, you pulled Powder into a quick hug and kissed her forehead before running off to prepare.

As you enter the bathroom you decide to style your hair in the way you always did for special occasions. It was a routine you knew by heart, and the familiarity calmed your excitement enough to let you focus. Opening your chaotic closet, you scanned its contents and grabbed the first outfit that caught your eye. You layered it with accessories that reflected your personal style before glancing at the clock. "Forty-five minutes," you muttered, impressed with your speed. Thankfully, waking up early to shower and do your skincare routine meant you had saved yourself a lot of stress—a rare victory you silently thanked your past self for.

Powder, now pacing the dorm trying to think of what to get at the café, noticed you were ready and practically dragged you to the full-length mirror she had insisted on bringing to your shared space earlier in the semester.

"Wait! Stay still," she commanded, snapping a quick picture of the two of you. You struck a playful pose at the last second, making her giggle as she added the picture to her camera roll, no doubt planning to post it later along with the many already planned ahead photo ideas she had in mind.

Powder grinned and grabbed your hand, practically bouncing out the door as you both made your way toward what promised to be an unforgettable day.

Oh and unforgettable it was.

You arrived at the subway station and met up with everyone— except Mel and Jayce who decided they’d go by car since it was the best possible option for them as they were out earlier that morning and were just 10 minutes away from your destination.

Viktor was seated next to you while the others had run off to find a place to sit in the packed space which had been a bit uncomfortable since everyone was standing body to body and god knows how many pervs were lurking around. You absentmindedly scooted closer to Viktor, bumping into his cane which almost hit the person standing next to you before you luckily caught it. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry I wasn’t thinking straight— shit, is it damaged or anything? I’ll buy you whatever you please at that cafe, I’m sorry.” You stuttered out, earning a teasing grin from Viktor. “No harm done, but if you’re offering..” You breathe out a relieved sigh, chuckling sheepishly; “I mean I don’t mind getting you something. It could be like a thanks for listening to me and my band play.” And with that, it was settled.

When the train pulled into your stop, everyone spilled out onto the platform. Ekko stumbled dramatically, throwing his arms up as if he’d just escaped certain doom. "Oh my god fresh air!" he exclaimed, drawing laughter from the group. “Alright, let’s go," Vi said in a commanding tone. "We’ve got twenty minutes until our reservation, so move it, squirts, and Vik." She said, Powder flipping her off as a faint; “Hey! Why’d you leave Viktor out of your pathetic try at an insult?” could be heard as all of them climbed up the stairs ahead of you and the man mentioned.

The walk to the café was surprisingly quiet, save for Powder and Ekko’s chatter. Viktor’s cane tapped rhythmically against the pavement, a sound that seemed to echo in the silence. You fiddled with your sleeves absentmindedly, still replaying your earlier clumsiness in your mind. Noticing your fidgeting, Viktor broke the silence. "I heard you’ve been wanting to visit this place since the start of the semester," he said, his tone more observational than questioning. You looked at him, caught slightly off guard by his comment. "Yeah," you admitted, your voice softening. "I’ve always loved the vibe. It’d be a dream to play there, but it’s just one of those things that probably won’t happen." Viktor frowned slightly at your words. "Why not? You’ve got the talent. And, dare I say, a very charming personality. There’s no doubt you could swoon the manager over and into giving you a gig—maybe even by next week."

His confidence in you made your cheeks flush, a shy smile spreading across your face. "Viktor, you really have a way with words it’s truly admirable," you said with a laugh. "You know, you’re the kind of person they’d write rock songs about."

Before he could respond, you giggled and darted ahead to catch up with the rest of the group, who were now gathered at the café’s entrance. Viktor watched you go, a faint smile playing at his lips before he made his way over to where Jayce and Mel were waiting.

The café was a dream come to life. Warm signs flickered gently against the dark wood walls, and the faint crackle of vinyl played on an old jukebox in the corner. Every detail—from the checkered floor to the vintage records and trinkets on the shelves.. it all felt so unreal. The stained glass also added on to the whole vibe, the colourful glass reflecting the suns beautiful rays onto the floor, walls and even booths giving it that magical touch.

You couldn’t help but smile as you took it all in. Powder was already snapping pictures with her phone, Ekko leaning into the frame and striking goofy poses. Caitlyn and Vi claimed the booth’s corner seats, their hands brushing as they shared a menu. Jayce and Mel arrived shortly after, bringing the group all together.

The energy was vibrant, the table filled with overlapping conversations and laughter as everyone admired the café’s welcoming and cozy aura. Viktor took a seat beside you again, his quiet presence somehow grounding amidst all the noise.

"See?" Powder beamed, nudging your shoulder. "Worth the rush, right?" "Totally," you admitted, leaning back and savoring the moment. "This place is amazing." As everyone placed their orders, Viktor leaned slightly toward you, his voice low so only you could hear. "Do you still think playing here is just a dream?" His question caught you off guard. You looked at him, unsure of how to respond. "I mean... yeah? It’s not like places like this to just hand out gigs to random people. I doubt they’d want a rock band playing here anyway.. especially not college students.” He let your words sink in for a while before a small smile tugged at his lips. “Who knows. Sometimes you just need the right connections to make things happen.”

Before you could press him on what he meant, the food and drinks arrived, and the table erupted into excitement. Plates of waffles, milkshakes, coffee and a whole bunch of other delicious dishes were passed around, each one looking like it had stepped straight out of a retro diner ad.

Ekko was the first to dive in, immediately stealing a bite from Powder’s plate. "Hey!" she protested, smacking his hand away with a laugh. Everyone dug in and continued their conversations, you yourself indulging in a conversation with Mel and Jayce who were curious about your career choice and major which you were more then happy to talk about. They stared in awe as you explained how you met each member and how you all formed the band, Powder and Ekko later joining in and as did Caitlyn.

At some point, Viktor excused himself, disappearing for a whole 15 minutes but you decided to let it go, indulging in whatever topic your friends had brought up.

When Viktor returned, he wore an expression that was far too pleased with himself. You raised an eyebrow, but he simply shrugged and slid back into his seat, redirecting the conversation effortlessly.

The group lingered at the café for over an hour, soaking in the atmosphere and sharing stories. When it finally was time to leave, you felt a pang of reluctance but pushed it aside, grateful for the experience.

As the group made their way out, Viktor fell into step beside you. "You might want to keep your calendar clear for next weekend," he said casually, his tone light but meaningful. You frowned, confused. "Why?" "Let’s just say you’ll need it free," he replied cryptically, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

You wanted to press him for more details, but the others were already calling for you to catch up. The walk back was just as lively as before, Powder and Ekko bickering playfully while Vi and Caitlyn walked hand in hand.

All the while, Viktor’s words echoed in your mind, sparking a tiny ember of excitement you couldn’t quite extinguish.

The days that followed Viktor’s very vague message had you up and restless all night. You tried to keep yourself busy—between classes, band practice, and working on your art project, you thought you could distract yourself with but Viktor’s words lingered like a riddle you couldn’t solve.

Powder was no help either. “You’re overthinking it,” she said casually one night as you both sat in your dorm. “Am I?” you asked, strumming a chord on your guitar. “He tells me to keep my calendar clear and then refuses to explain anything. How am I not supposed to think about it?” Powder shrugged, lying back on her bed with her phone in hand. “Look, maybe it’s something cool, or maybe it’s just Viktor being, y’know, Viktor. Either way, freaking out isn’t gonna help.”

You sighed, knowing she was right, but it didn’t stop the curiosity from eating at you. Viktor was too intentional, too precise for this to be random. Whatever he had planned, it wasn’t something small.

By Wednesday, your patience had worn thin. After class, you spotted Viktor in the library, surrounded by notes and his laptop, indulged in his work. Deciding you couldn’t wait any longer, you walked over and slid into the seat across from him. He looked up, mildly surprised but not displeased. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He smirked, knowing exactly why you were there.

“You know exactly why I’m here,” you said, folding your arms. He raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly. “Do I?” “You’ve been playing this weird game of mystery all week,” you said, exasperated. “Come on, just spill it already. What’s going on?” Viktor chuckled softly, amused by your little outburst. “You’re impatient,” he observed. “Yeah, and you’re avoiding the question,” you shot back, brows furrowed with annoyance.

Viktor’s smirk widened slightly, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Perhaps. But where’s the fun in revealing everything so soon?” You narrowed your eyes at him, torn between frustration and curiosity. “You know, not everyone enjoys playing your shitty guessing games, Viktor.” He leaned forward, resting his hands lightly on his cane. “And yet, here you are, thoroughly invested.”

You opened your mouth to retort but stopped, realizing he was right. “Fine,” you said with a resigned sigh, leaning back in your chair. “But if this turns out to be some overhyped bullshit, I swear to god Viktor I’ll smash my guitar against your head.” You said, of course not meaning the petty threat seariously since guitars were hella expensive but you definitely were annoyed.

Viktor’s chuckle deepened, the corners of his mouth twitching in a rare, genuine smile. “Noted. But I don’t think you’ll be disappointed rockstar.”

taglist: @skullmvncher @startingtoloveyou

© URFAVLARRY

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE OR COPY ANY OF MY WRITING TO OTHER PLATFORMS

I DON’T CONSENT FOR MY WRITING TO BE USED TO TRAIN AI 🚫

[thefandomsfervent]

Viktor x Reader Personal Pigments (Part 13)- Pyrrol Red

This is a jayvik x reader fic now but it'll still be labeled as a Vik Fic until it's fully implemented. Ft. a teasing Jayce. Can't have a slowburn without fuel. Find my imagine that inspired it here. Previous and next chapter will be linked at the bottom. Thank you for reading <3

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They had both missed you. Both admitted to it, teased the other about it. The information was interesting. It sparked familiar feelings. Doubt. Confusion. And less familiar ones too. Fuzzy warmth. Safety. When was the last time someone had done that? Missed you?

You were thinking about a lot of things as you worked today. During that talk with Mel you had only just started the underpainting, and still now you were barely halfway done with it. Well, you were before you had started it over for the third time. Despite all your studyings, having filled pages and pages of the two of them, you hadn’t really done enough studies of the lab. You knew how you wanted them pictured. Ideas for it anyway. You knew what personal elements to include that would represent each of them. You knew that Jayce stood with his weight on the balls of his feet, for his ever straight posture. And that Viktor stood forward on his toes. Leaning to the left off his right leg on good days, bracing himself against his cane on bad days.

Yet the background irked you. It could be the lab, but where? Against the window, illuminated by the golden sun to accentuate the yellow in Viktor’s eyes and the tan of Jayce’s skin? Or by moonlight, to make Jayce’s hair melt into the background and illuminated by the soft blue glow of Hextech. It would make Viktor’s pale complexion look ethereal if you did it right. Both were good ideas, ones you had already sketched. Ones that didn’t sit quite right with you. It could be outside the lab too, but that felt wrong. For one, you hadn’t seen either of them outside of the lab other than passing in hallways or that one day where they had visited the studio.

Your thoughts wander at the half thought. To soothing circles rubbed into your shoulder. To smooth dry hands holding yours. The two of them had been kind to you, gentle with you. Allowed you into their space, their life, their… friendship? Partnership? Their not, not togetherness. You didn’t consider yourself a part of that. You were a viewer. Since that conversation they whispered their rare flirtations less. Instead, letting the words be loud enough that you could hear. The actions had been loud enough for you to notice in the first place. It was a soft comfort in your chest at the feeling. They cared enough, trusted enough, to include you in that. You cast them a sidelong glance.

They were going over something together. Jayce had his arm braced against the back of Viktor’s chair, leaning over him in a closeness that could be read as necessary. It wasn’t. You all knew that. A knowing made clearer by Viktor’s hand unconsciously toying with Jayce’s fingers dangling off the corner. The sun had shifted onto their backs, the yellowing light catching on both of their heads. It was almost domestic, the relaxed nature of both their bodies, words carrying over to you that you didn’t quite understand. You didn’t need to. If you asked, they would explain it to you in a heartbeat.

After your conversation with Viktor things had gone back to normal. The three of you working in the lab in tandem. If Viktor had told Jayce what happened, the latter hadn’t acted like it. His smile just as bright, his energy just as high when things went well, his comfort the same when things went wrong. Viktor, however, had changed slightly. You had caught him on a few occasions looking at you. More than just the curious glances he offered your first week there. You weren’t sure what was behind those golden eyes, and each time you had met his gaze he didn’t let anything slip. The occasional smile, but sometimes not even that. Unreadable.

It bothered you, not enough to stop looking, but it bothered you. It did not upset you. You liked it. It was confusing. It was confusing because you liked it. You were staring at their hands now, the way their fingers interlocked and let go. Pearls and gold. Someone coughs and it pulls your attention up. Whenever Jayce caught you looking at Viktor, or the two of them, he seemed as if he liked it too. Like now. His eyes glittering with a knowing mischief. The problem was you did not know what it seemed like he knew. You wave your brush in the air. As if to say “Just looking for art purposes, apologies.” It’s when he cocks a brow and stands, whispering “One sec Vik.” that you try not to panic. Viktor just squeezes his hand, waving him off with the other. You didn’t have hands on the canvas. You barely had anything past illegible wiped out lines that would only make sense to you.

When he gets over to your station he leans forward against the table. Large hands splayed on the colorful surface. "How's it coming Y/N?" His hazel eyes are on your lap, where you're fidgeting with your brush. It was clean, dry. No paint on it. No new paint on your canvas either. You decide to be honest to avoid whatever this interaction was about to be.

"Not well." He blinks at that. Brief concern before a different glint takes his eye.

"Having trouble focusing?" It's innocent. Playful. And it means nothing, you're sure of it. You try to ignore the blood rushing towards your cheeks. Your sketchbook was open on the table next to you. The pages were covered in notes and swathes of color. The flowers from your day outside sketched in the corners. Little doodles of gears in the margins. You grab it, thumbing through to a spread that had thumbnails of them in different poses.

"I'm not sure how I want you both."  Jayce has picked up on something, eyes widening. You aren't sure what so you keep speaking "To be posed. Or where to put you in space. The lab seems most appropriate but?" You tap at the pages of your sketchbook again. "Some mockups."

"Gods did she not hear how that sounded?" Jayce likes to think that you do but he's seen how clueless both you and Viktor have been about your chemistry and it makes him want to laugh every time. And he would if it would get the three of you anywhere. He knows very well that Viktor could handle teasing, and could dish it out himself. You? He didn't know you as well just yet. Hadn't fully stepped into that territory. At least the blush was cute. He takes the book off the table. It was heavier than he thought. 

The pages you pointed to had several small figure sketches of what he assumed were them in various places and poses. Each aspect in a different color. Some yellow, some blue. Some with spots that were erased over and over again, the paper pilling and buckling. He thinks back to that note you had left on the door. The words you had scribbled over. Did you even realize what Viktor had called you that night in your studio? Did Viktor? His thumb brushes over a more detailed drawing. He can see the lines of his fingerprint left on the paper, graphite dust darkening the page just a hair. It was of him and Viktor, the gear set between them. A cup of tea? Some flowers he couldn’t identify by the scale of the drawing but you had drawn out words and arrows explaining their meaning, color choices you wanted to do. Day and night in the same drawing, lighting them differently. You had redrawn this one the most, several smaller iterations of it spread across the bottom with different blurbs of color and text. 

“Jayce? Any opinions?” He looks down at you past the book. Your leg was bouncing impatiently. Nervously.

“Still looking. You have a lot of stuff here.” He goes to turn the pages at that, to see what else is weighing the pages down. But you stop him, shooting up from your seat. 

“No turning!” He’s shocked at your outburst initially. And then some teasing feeling pulls at the back of his neck, he wants to play. Like a dog being told to come back inside after running around and evading capture. 

“And why not? What other ideas do you have hidden in here?” You’re not taking the bait just yet. Still stood at your chair, eyes wide. Flustered.

“Some things are meant to be private.” You put a hand out, fingers reaching towards him. He almost lets you grab it. Almost. Jayce pulls it back. He’s inclining his head towards you now. A grin plastered across his face. He wouldn’t actually sift through it if you didn’t want him to. And he can tell that you know that when you see his smile. Your shoulders relax when you start walking out from behind your table. 

“Something juicy in here then. Viktor, do you want to see?”  

“Nothing juicy, just private!” You laugh this time when you swipe for it and he moves it out of reach again. 

“Did you know that Jayce signs all of his notes? Every single page.” Viktor is watching the two of you jump around like children with a content look on his face. He’d been looking since Jayce had asked if you were distracted. Seen you blush. Seen you offer him your sketchbook. 

“Viktor!” Jayce looks at him, embarrassment making him freeze. That’s when you can snatch your prize away from him. “Hey! You two are no fun.” He gives a soft-chuckle before saying, “I guess I lost this time.” 

“I am fun. And we are supposed to be working.” Viktor is giving him a pointed look while holding his own book of ramblings up. “Play another time.” Movement catches his eye, it’s you walking towards him.

“Thank you. Maybe you can help me pick a layout since someone can’t keep their hands to themselves.” Jayce laughs again, quick and joking apologies as he trails behind you. You show Viktor the spread that Jayce had been looking at. He gives it a onceover. He doesn’t know a lot about art and does not pretend to. He appreciates this glimpse into your process however. Something does catch his eye, a dark thumbprint pulled from a drawing. Larger than yours. Jayce’s. 

“Eh. You will figure it out. Maybe it is there already. Maybe it is not. But I do like this one.” He taps his own pencil to the drawing.

“Hmm.” You’re pouting. Like you did not know if you liked his answer or not. His eyes are drawn to how full they looked when you purse them that way. Then to Jayce, who is watching him watch you. 

“Anything else in there you want to share? We’d be better help if we saw more options.” Jayce’s hands slowly sneaking over your shoulder.

“Nice try.” You’re heading back to your seat. Jayce takes his usual post behind Viktor, quiet laughter still shaking his shoulders. 

“You are incorrigible. Let us all work in peace, please.” You don’t answer him verbally, but he hears you flip through your sketchbook and start scribbling. Jayce, however, leans down to his ear. Breath tickling the shell when he whispers something you can’t hear. Words warmed by that last of his laughter.

“Not sure how she wants us both?” It gets him a slap on his shoulder before Viktor taps the book on the table. 

“Work in peace Jayce.” The words leave him in a hissed whisper of their own.

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