#Viktor x Platonic!Reader

[aspenmissing]

ɪɴ ʜᴇʀ ꜰᴏᴏᴛꜱᴛᴇᴘꜱ

ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ x ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ || 3456 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ||

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ!ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ (ɴᴏ ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ ꜱᴀᴛ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴄᴋ ɪɴ ᴢᴀᴜɴ, ᴀᴅᴍɪʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ᴄʀᴀꜰᴛᴇᴅ, ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴀ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴘɪʟᴛᴏᴠᴇʀ - ᴡʜᴏᴍ ʜᴇ'ꜱ ꜱᴇᴇɴ ɪɴ ᴀʀᴛɪᴄʟᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇʀ ᴍᴀɢɴɪꜰɪᴄᴇɴᴛ ɪɴᴠᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ, ʜᴀᴅ ᴊᴏɪɴᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍ, ɢɪᴠɪɴɢ ʜɪᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴜꜱʜ ꜰᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴛʀɪᴠᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛɴᴇꜱꜱ.

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ʜᴇɪᴍ��ʀᴅɪɴɢᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ʀᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ

In the sprawling depths of Zaun, amidst the smoke and grime, a young boy named Viktor sat on the edge of a rickety wooden dock, cradling a small wooden boat he had painstakingly crafted. His fingers were raw from sanding, his palms smeared with grease from the crude paint he had managed to scavenge. Yet, despite the hardships, his golden eyes gleamed with pride as he tilted the boat to admire the way the sunlight reflected off its varnished surface.

The newspapers he had scavenged earlier in the day were folded neatly beside him. The headlines caught his attention:

“Piltover’s Youngest Genius: Y/N Y/L/N Brings Innovation and Unity to the Forefront.”

The image accompanying the article showed a young woman, no older than nineteen, standing proudly beside her latest invention. Viktor stared at the picture, his admiration growing with each passing moment. Her story was one of triumph against odds, and in a world divided by class and opportunity, she was proof that brilliance could transcend boundaries.

Viktor longed to be like her—a beacon of hope and ingenuity.

Weeks later, the creaking of Zaun’s ancient lift system echoed through the Lanes, drawing curious eyes to the platform as it descended. Such an arrival was unusual; visitors from Piltover rarely ventured into Zaun without reason. Viktor leaned heavily on his cane as he watched from a distance, his curiosity piqued as the lift came into view.

Stepping off was a woman clad in a simple yet striking green overcoat, her presence commanding yet unpretentious. It was her—the same woman whose image had graced newspapers. Y/N had come to Zaun, and she was even more remarkable in person than Viktor could have imagined.

She moved through the winding streets with purpose, her gaze scanning the surroundings until it fell on him—a boy sitting by the dock, no older than 11, clutching a small, hand-carved boat. She noticed the metal brace on his leg, the way his weight shifted onto his cane, and the quiet determination etched into his features. With a gentle smile, she approached and knelt beside him, her eyes kind and curious.

“Did you make that?” she asked softly, gesturing to the boat in his hands.

Viktor’s cheeks flushed as he nodded, holding it out for her to see. “Yes, miss. It’s not much, but…”

“It’s wonderful,” she interrupted, carefully taking the boat to examine it. “You’ve put a lot of care into this. That takes skill and patience. What’s your name?”

“Viktor,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the distant hum of the city.

“Well, Viktor,” she said, handing the boat back to him with a gentle touch, “you’ve got a brilliant mind, I can see that. Don’t ever stop creating.”

Her gaze flicked briefly to his brace and cane, but there was no pity in her eyes, only admiration. She reached into her satchel, retrieving a small leather pouch. Opening it, she pulled out a finely crafted, pocket-sized toolkit. “Here,” she said, offering it to him. “I think you’ll make better use of this than I will. Keep building, and one day, you’ll change the world.”

His hands trembled as he accepted the gift, his wide eyes meeting hers. “Thank you,” he managed to whisper, his voice thick with emotion.

Before he could say more, she rose gracefully, offering him one last warm smile. As she disappeared into the bustle of Zaun’s streets, Viktor clutched the toolkit tightly, a spark of hope and inspiration igniting within him.

Two years passed, and Viktor (13) poured over every word of Y/N’s (21) new book, "Blueprints of a Dreamer: My Story of Innovation". its pages becoming worn and dog-eared from constant reading. Her story, chronicling her journey from the depths of Zaun to becoming a celebrated inventor, struck a chord deep within him. She wrote with raw honesty about the struggles of growing up in the undercity, the obstacles she overcame, and her belief in the transformative power of invention.

Inspired by her journey and philosophies, Viktor dedicated himself to crafting increasingly intricate creations, dreaming of the day he might follow a similar path.

When news reached Zaun that Y/N would be hosting a book signing in Piltover, Viktor knew he had to seize the chance to meet her again. Scraping together enough money, he made the journey to the grand hall where the event was being held.

Standing in line with the book clutched tightly to his chest, Viktor felt a swirl of excitement and nerves. When his turn finally came, he stepped forward, his cane tapping softly against the polished floor. Y/N looked up, her expression shifting from polite curiosity to a warm, wide smile of recognition.

“Viktor!” she exclaimed, standing to greet him. “You’ve grown.”

“You… you remember me?” he asked, astonished.

“Of course,” she said, her voice kind and steady. “How could I forget the boy with the beautiful boat? Have you been building more?”

“Yes,” he said, nodding eagerly, his face lighting up. “Small things for now, but I want to create something… meaningful. Like you.”

Her eyes softened as she reached for his book. She opened it to the title page, her pen poised. “You’ve already started, Viktor,” she said, meeting his eyes with encouragement. “Coming from Zaun, we know how hard the climb can be. But I see that same fire in you—the one that refuses to give up. Keep nurturing it, and you’ll achieve greatness.”

She wrote her signature carefully, pausing for a moment before adding a personal note:

To Viktor, A brilliant mind with a limitless future. Keep building, and never stop believing in yourself. – Y/N

Handing the book back to him, she smiled. “The world needs minds like yours, Viktor. Don’t let anything hold you back.”

Viktor stared at the message, his hands trembling slightly. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

She reached out briefly, her hand resting lightly on his. “You don’t need to thank me. Just promise me you’ll keep going. You’ve got something special, Viktor.”

As he left the signing, the message in his book felt like a beacon of hope. Clutching it tightly, Viktor walked away with a renewed sense of purpose, more determined than ever to honour the belief Y/N had in him and to one day stand as an equal among the great inventors of Piltover and beyond.

As the years rolled on, Y/N’s (25) visits to Zaun became a lifeline for Viktor (17). She didn’t just bring supplies or knowledge; she brought hope—hope that the divide between Zaun and Piltover wasn’t insurmountable. Her unwavering commitment to bridging the gap between the two cities inspired Viktor in ways he couldn’t fully express. She encouraged his creativity, challenged his ideas, and always reminded him of his worth, even when the world around them sought to diminish it.

During one of her visits, Y/N found Viktor bent over a workbench in a dimly lit corner of his home, tinkering with a mechanical arm. His focus was so intense that he didn’t notice her enter until she cleared her throat softly.

“Still working on the arm?” she asked with a smile, stepping closer.

“It’s nearly ready,” Viktor replied, setting down his tools and wiping his hands. “It just needs… a little more refinement.”

Y/N examined the arm, impressed by the precision of his work. “You’re ready,” she said confidently, handing it back to him.

“For what?”

“To take the next step,” she replied. “Your work deserves recognition, Viktor. I believe in you.”

A week later, Y/N carried with her not only one of Viktor’s inventions—the mechanical arm—but also sketches and notes detailing his other creations. Her destination was Heimerdinger’s workshop, a cluttered space brimming with half-finished inventions and scattered blueprints.

“Ah, Y/N! My dear girl” Heimerdinger greeted warmly as she entered. "What brings you to my little corner of chaos?"

“Professor,” Y/N began, carefully setting Viktor’s mechanical arm on the workbench, “I’m here to discuss a recommendation for the academy.”

Heimerdinger adjusted his glasses, his sharp eyes examining the arm. “A recommendation? For a student?”

“Yes,” Y/N replied, her tone firm but respectful. “His name is Viktor. He’s from Zaun.”

“Zaun?” Heimerdinger echoed, his bushy eyebrows rising. “That’s… highly unusual. The academy’s admission process is extremely selective.”

“I know,” Y/N said, nodding. “But Viktor’s work is extraordinary. This arm is just one example. He’s entirely self-taught, and his creativity is unparalleled. With the right guidance, he could achieve greatness—and bring perspectives to Piltover that we sorely lack.”

Heimerdinger picked up the mechanical arm, turning it over in his hands. “This is… impressive,” he admitted, his tone softening. “But the council will have questions. They always do.”

“I’m prepared for that,” Y/N said firmly. “I’ll stand before the council myself to advocate for Viktor. They respect me enough to listen, and I’ll make them see what I see in him.”

Heimerdinger looked at her for a long moment, his expression thoughtful. “You’re willing to go to great lengths for this boy.”

“He deserves the chance,” Y/N replied. “Zaun deserves the chance. If we want real progress, we need to open the academy’s doors to minds like his.”

The professor tugged at his mustache, considering her words. Finally, he nodded. “Very well. I’ll support your recommendation. But you’ll need to convince the council, and they won’t make it easy.”

“I’m not afraid of a challenge” Y/N said with a small smile.

Heimerdinger chuckled. "No, you never have been"

Back in Zaun, Viktor was overwhelmed when Y/N told him what she had done. “You’d speak to the council for me?” he asked, his voice filled with disbelief and gratitude.

“Of course,” Y/N replied, her gaze steady. “You’re worth fighting for, Viktor. And I’ll make sure they see that, too.”

For the first time, Viktor began to believe that his work—and his life—could make a difference. Y/N’s faith in him was unshakable, and that was all the encouragement he needed to keep moving forward.

Months had passed since Y/N (26) had stood before the Piltover council to advocate for Viktor’s (18) admission to the academy. Despite her confidence, Viktor hadn’t heard any news, and his hope wavered. He buried himself in his work, uncertain whether his future lay in Piltover or if his dreams were destined to remain in Zaun.

One evening, whispers of a tragedy swept through the Lanes. Viktor overheard snippets of conversation: “An inventor… sabotage, they say…” His chest tightened as he hurried to find more information. A discarded newspaper lay crumpled by a vendor’s stall, and his breath caught as he unfolded it.

There, on the front page, was Y/N’s face beneath a bold headline:

“Piltover’s Youngest Genius Found Dead.”

The article speculated about an accident, possibly sabotage, but the details were frustratingly sparse. Viktor’s hands trembled as his vision blurred with tears. The woman who had been his guiding star, the one who believed in him when no one else did, was gone.

The days that followed were a haze of grief and anger. Viktor kept to himself, clutching the mechanical arm he had crafted as if it were the only thing tethering him to his purpose. He replayed every memory of Y/N, every word of encouragement, wondering how he would move forward without her.

Then, one quiet afternoon, a knock at his door shattered the silence. Viktor hesitated before opening it, and to his surprise, Professor Heimerdinger stood on the threshold, holding an envelope in his small hands.

“Young man,” the professor said gently, his eyes filled with a rare softness, “I’ve come to deliver this. It was entrusted to me by Y/N before her… untimely passing.”

Viktor accepted the envelope with trembling fingers, his heart pounding. Heimerdinger lingered for a moment before nodding and stepping back, leaving Viktor alone with the weight of the moment.

As he opened the envelope, Viktor’s breath caught. Inside was a letter of acceptance to Piltover Academy. At the bottom, Y/N’s signature stood proudly, alongside her glowing recommendation.

Beneath the printed letter of acceptance was a handwritten note, her elegant cursive flowing gracefully across the page. It was Y/N’s personal recommendation for Viktor, a final message imbued with her unwavering belief in him:

It is with great confidence that I recommend Viktor for admission to Piltover Academy. His mind is a rare and extraordinary gift, capable of innovation that transcends boundaries. But more than that, Viktor possesses a resilience and kindness that are equally remarkable. He has the heart of an inventor, the perseverance of a survivor, and the vision of a true pioneer. Viktor will not only excel at this academy but will inspire others to dream bigger and aim higher. If you give him the opportunity, I have no doubt he will change the world. Sincerely, Y/N Y/L/N”

Tears streamed down Viktor’s face as he traced her signature with his thumb. Even in death, Y/N had ensured his future. Her belief in him was immortalized in ink, a testament to the bond they had shared.

Clutching the letter to his chest, Viktor made a silent vow: he would honour her memory by fulfilling the potential she had seen in him.

“It’s because of that recommendation,” Heimerdinger continued, “and because of my own respect for her as both a colleague and a friend, that I’ve made a decision.” He paused, giving Viktor a sharp look. “I would like to offer you a position, Viktor—an assistantship at Piltover Academy. You will work under my guidance, with access to the resources and knowledge of the academy.”

Viktor’s heart stopped for a moment, the gravity of the offer sinking in. “You mean... an assistant?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Heimerdinger nodded. “Indeed. Your talent and potential are undeniable. Y/N’s belief in you confirms that. You will be given the opportunity to grow, to build, and to refine your craft. And, I trust, you’ll make her proud.”

Viktor stood in stunned silence, his mind racing. He had always dreamed of the academy, of working alongside the brilliant minds who could help him bring his ideas to life. But now, in the wake of Y/N’s passing, it felt like a bittersweet opportunity.

“I won’t let you down, Professor,” Viktor said, his voice steady with newfound resolve.

Heimerdinger smiled, his bushy mustache twitching. “I never doubted that, Viktor. Now, let us move forward. There is much work to be done.”

With that, Viktor stepped into the future Y/N had envisioned for him—one shaped by both her memory and the belief that Professor Heimerdinger had in him. It was the beginning of something great, and Viktor knew he had to honor her legacy by ensuring that greatness was realized. He would build, innovate, and strive for a future where no one would have to endure the struggles they had faced. Y/N’s legacy would live on, not just in Piltover, but in every creation he brought to life.

Jayce stood in the lab, the steady hum of machinery filling the silence. The air felt dense, as it often did during long nights of work, where every hour seemed to stretch on forever. He glanced over at Viktor (24), who was hunched over on his seat- looking down at a set of blueprints on the workbench, his brow furrowed in concentration. The passage of time had done little to erase the weight of loss from Viktor’s face, but there was a quiet resolve there now—a stark contrast to the grief that had once overwhelmed him.

Jayce walked toward Viktor’s desk, hoping for a distraction from the problem-solving of Hextech. His eyes scanned the cluttered workspace, stopping when they landed on an old, leather-bound book. The title 'Blueprints of a Dreamer: My Story of Innovation' was barely legible, worn from years of handling. Jayce knew that name well.

Y/N Y/L/N. It was a name that had been passed around with reverence in their circles. Her work had been ground-breaking, her brilliance undeniable, and her death had left a void. Jayce had heard Viktor speak of her before, with a mixture of admiration and sadness, but he had never fully understood the depth of their connection. As Jayce picked up the book, he couldn’t shake the feeling that it had been more than just a mentor-mentee relationship—it was something more personal, something Viktor had held onto after all these years.

With a soft sigh, Jayce opened the book, its pages tanned with age but still intact, as if it had been handled with the utmost care. As he flipped through the pages, he found them filled with Viktor’s meticulous annotations—scribbles in the margins, detailed equations, sketches, and diagrams—intertwined with Y/N’s original writing.

At first glance, it might have seemed like a chaotic mix of ideas, but Jayce could see the beauty in it. Viktor had clearly poured over every single word Y/N had written, adding his own thoughts, corrections, and additions. It was a collaboration in the truest sense—a melding of two brilliant minds, each pushing the other to new heights.

One page contained an intricate set of equations, all written in Y/N’s neat, precise handwriting, with Viktor’s corrections and additional variables scrawled in the margins. Some parts of the text had been crossed out and replaced with his own theories. Diagrams that Y/N had drawn in her characteristic style had been revisited by Viktor, who had added his own iterations of the designs, refining them further.

In one corner of the page, Jayce found a series of sketches—Y/N’s graceful lines depicting the framework for a new mechanical device, but Viktor had turned the page into a blueprint, with careful measurements and notes detailing how to bring the concept to life. He’d even drawn a few variations of the device, making adjustments to improve the original design.

The more Jayce flipped through the journal, the more he could see how Viktor had poured his heart into this work. There were moments of inspiration, bursts of genius, and occasional notes to himself—like whispers in the margins—reminders to never forget the way Y/N had believed in him, had believed in their shared vision. One note, scribbled in the corner of a page, read:

“Keep pushing. For both of us.”

Jayce paused at the final page, his breath catching as he saw the last set of annotations. The words were simple but powerful:

To Viktor, a brilliant mind with a limitless future. Keep building, and never stop believing in yourself. – Y/N

But unlike the clean, flowing handwriting that had once graced the page, these words had been underscored by Viktor’s own script, nearly overlaid with his desperate scrawl in the margin.

“I will never stop. I can’t. You’re the reason I keep going.”

Jayce swallowed, the raw emotion in Viktor’s words hitting him harder than he expected. It was clear now that the journal wasn’t just a collection of notes—it was a testament to the bond they had shared, and to the unwavering belief Y/N had had in Viktor’s potential. Every page was a glimpse into the evolution of Viktor’s mind, shaped by both his own genius and the encouragement he had drawn from Y/N’s words and ideas.

“Viktor…” Jayce murmured softly, his voice barely a whisper as he closed the journal.

Viktor, lost in his work, glanced up briefly. “What is it, Jayce?”

Jayce held the book in his hands, his fingers lightly resting on the cover. “She really believed in you, didn’t she?”

Viktor didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he turned back to his work, his fingers tracing the plans before him with practiced ease. He seemed lost in thought for a moment before responding.

“She did,” Viktor said quietly. “And I never let that belief go. I’ve carried it with me, every day. Y/N’s faith in me… it’s why I keep building. Why I keep pushing forward.”

Jayce nodded, his eyes lingering on the book. “And you’ll keep going. For both of you.”

Viktor’s lips pressed into a thin line, but his expression softened. “For both of us.”

With that, Jayce silently placed the book back on the desk. The weight of Y/N’s memory, her unwavering belief in Viktor’s genius, felt more tangible than ever before. They stood in silence for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts, the absence of her presence lingering between them. Viktor had accepted her death, but her faith in him, in them, had never wavered. It would continue to guide him, and it would guide them both as they worked toward a future she had always dreamed of—a future now within their grasp.

Her belief had laid the foundation, and now, together, they would build upon it, honoring her legacy in every step they took.

[the-odd-shu]

Lab shenanigans

Characters: Viktor, Jayce, Reader

A thread following the chaotic trio that is, laboratory illustrator!Reader, Viktor and Jayce being unsupervised in the lab.

Note this takes place during season 1:

Gender Neutral!Reader who got hired as the lab illustrator because neither Jayce nor Viktor can draw and they need an illustrator to document all their official papers with recognisable diagrams of their inventions.

The next part

Masterlist

Reader who was just freshly been employed as the lab illustrator, sitting diligently at their new desk whilst Jayce fetches the research folder and Viktor tinkers away in the background.

Reader who lets Jayce set down the heavy folder on their desk, which holds all of the pair's research as well as hundreds of cruedly drawn sketches of inventions such as the Hexclaw and early drafts of the Hexgates, drawn by both himself and Viktor. (They are not drawn well, and it is only because most of the drawings are labelled with big, obnoxoious arrows that you actually know what you're looking at).

Jayce pausing in his explanations of the tech on each page and his promises to pull everything out of storage when you need it for a refence, slowly trailing off when he catches sight of your reaction to the drawings: "Why are you making that face?"

Reader who is diligently flicking through the pages and trying not to crack up at the poorly drawn stick figures, and the messy, uneven parallel lines of wires and robotic arms, and the scribbled oblong that is supposed to be one of the gemstones. They're not half bad attempts from people who focus their energy and time into math equations and flowery research papers, but that doesn't mean they're not amusing to look at.

"What face? I'm not making a face."

Reader turns all of their attention down to the pages and proceeds to fail at smothering their snort as the concept sketch of one of the Zaun suits. They push the folder back along the desk, to create enough space to prop their elbows on the table, to pinch the bridge of their nose hard to try and school themselves into some form of calm.

"Why are you laughing?" Jayce asks, sounding geniunely confused.

Whilst Reader tries to save face by responding, "I'm not. I'm just- uh, coming to terms with how much work I have ahead of me."

Jayce frowns.

The commotion has caught Viktor's attention.

"Well, it is a lot." Jayce allows, "but we won't rush you. The deadline is months away after all, and if-"

His words fade into the background in your mind as Viktor chooses then to roll over on his wheelie office chair to see what's going on, only to immediately grin in understanding. He rolls his chair up on the adjascent side of your desk, mouth pulled into a wicked smirk as he points to a particularly wobbly zaun suit drawing. "That would be one of Jayce's masterpieces."

Jayce lets out an offended noise, whilst Viktor takes malicious joy in flipping through the folder to point out which other drawings were done by Jayce. Most of them are wobbly and uneven, but have clearly been mapped out with steady, slow care.

In retaliation, Jayce swipes the folder out of Viktor's gleeful hands, and pointedly flips to a fresher page dated back to a couple of days ago. You catch a glimpse of the title 'hexcore', scrawled across the top in confident letters, before Jayce is turning the folder back to you and loudly proclaiming the work of art as Viktor's.

[The ‘hexcore’ has been drawn with wobbly, uneven lines that lacked the sleek, parallel look of the actual subject, with poorly recreated runes that did not at all take into account perspective or foreshortening.]

Reader loses it at the attempt, whilst Jayce and Viktor continue to squabble with one another in the background.

I just NEED all three of them to spend countless hours in that laboratory getting stuck in their respective tasks (creative Vs Scientific) and all three of them come out aching and satisfied by the time the janitor comes round to kick them out for the night, despite doing jobs that require different parts of their brains. The overlap of countless, almost unsolvable equations, with the hours of staring at a blank page and slowly but surely coaxing out an image, it just so precious to me somehow.

Bonus points of course, if Jayce and Viktor are getting really into a scientific debate across the room by the chalkboard, flinging enormous words back and forth at one another, whilst Reader slowly dies inside trying to make the metal part of an invention LOOK like metal.

I just need Reader allowing the background muttering and excited exclamations to sooth them as they carefully draw another diagram above a neatly scrawled out text box of the pair's latest concept.

Jayce: “Yes! That could work! What do you think, Y/n?”

Reader: Head snaps up at being addressed. “Uh…”

They blue screen as they come back to reality and realise they haven’t moved in hours and their back and neck desperately ache from the movement. They're suddenly starving, and hungry, and really need to pee, but didn't notice before because they were so engrossed in their work. Kind of like how the other two get about their research.

Viktor being a night owl and working on projects late into the night.

Jayce being smart and taking cat naps on his desk because he's an early bird, but a deadline is coming up and he refuses to be defeated by exhaustion.

And then you have Reader. Who is not being supervised in the kitchen, where they've made their fifth coffee and with shaking, caffeinated hands, they begin pouring in a generous helping of a Piltover energy drink.

Viktor hears the can pop.

He says your name warningly. "You better not be making that culinary monstrosity again."

Instead of responding, they knock back the whole mug in desperate gulps, ignoring the rancid taste and shivering from the mix of burning liquid with the pop of hundreds of tiny bubbles.

The mug gets slammed loudly back on the counter. Viktor sighs heavily and pushes his wheelie chair towards Jayce's desk.

He wakes him up, with a prod of his cane into his side.

"I'm about to have a breakthrough." He explains quickly motioning to his desk. Blary eyed and clearly not fully awake yet, Jayce nods along. Viktor points dramatically to Jayce and then in the direction of the kitchen. "You're on assistant duty for the next half an hour."

The tiredness leeches out of Jayce's face. "They didn't-"

"They did."

"But they've already got caffeine shakes!"

"Tell that to the sound of the kettle bubbling away and the pop of a can lid. It has already happened Jayce. All we can do now it keep the damage to a minimum."

On silent feet, Reader's shadow appears on the other side of the desk. Both men jump. The light overhead casts their face into shadows and somehow makes their eyes glow. It is a terrifying sight.

Viktor recovers first. "We need to put a bell on you!"

"Kinky. Now, whatdoyouwantmetodrawnext?!" Their assistant rushes out in a single breath.

And both scientists pale. It was already beginning then.

The next four hours consists of Jayce struggling to keep his eyes open whilst Reader pokes fun at him and offers up their 'creation', Jayce firmly declining and trying to get on with his work, whilst Viktor keeps to himself and snorts periodically at the banter.

Reader draws and draws and then rubs out, before diligently getting back to drawing again. There is a frenzy to their marks. A wildness to their eyes. The scratch and scritch of their pen, getting lost amongst the sound of cogs turning and screws tightening and Jayce's yawning. So much so that when it suddenly ceases, neither of the scientists notice at first.

Not until Viktor asks for a warm tea, only for the previously eager assistant not to respond. He lets out a fond sigh, Jayce straightening up from his own work.

Reader is passed out on their sketchbook, having FINALLY crashed.

Viktor gets up to make his own tea.

Jayce shrugs off his jacket, and puts it over their shoulders as a makeshift blanket. The man has such broad shoulders that it practically swallows the assistant from sight, but they do not stir.

"That'll give them an awful neck ache tomorrow." Viktor observes aloud.

Jayce snorts. "Maybe it'll be enough of a punishment to stop them making that foul concoction."

"Unlikely."

Jayce just shakes his head and collapses back onto his desk and lays his head down on his arm. "Ten minutes." He mutters out before closing his eyes.

Viktor hums. And by the time he gets his tea back to the desk, his partner is out like a light, just as he had predicted.

"I CANNOT believe you're making me do this Jayce." Viktor exclaims sarcastically.

"Viktor. Please let me get that cog for you. Just this time. Please!"

"Oh no, no, do not get up on my account." Viktor firmly dismisses as he shimmies down his cane, one hand over the other all the whilst making exaggerated groaning noises.

Jayce is practically vibrating in place. "Please! It is literally all the way under that side board. Can I just slide it out for you? You can pick it up yourself."

"Oh no, do not strain yourself!" Viktor insists, sitting himself down on the floor, one hand holding his cane up as he shoves his other arm under the side board.

"VIKTOR!" Jayce all but whines, and takes a step forward.

"Ah!" Viktor immediately reprimands. "Y/n get the spray bottle!"

You've been watching the entire scene in amusement from your desk. Quietly giggling at Viktor's ribbing and Jayce's desperation to be useful. They make a rather amusing duo.

Jayce's eyes have jumped up to you. Frozen mid-step, eyes pleading.

You grin, pointedly reaching across the gap between yours and Viktor's desks to grab said spray bottle.

On the floor, Viktor makes a triumphant noise, before straightening up and brandishing the cog above his head. "Got it!" He exclaims, before slamming the blasted thing onto the side board. Then he tries to clamber back up his cane to his feet. He is unsuccessful as his leg decides not to co-operate this time.

He sighs. "Jayce." He says heavily, "as punishment for making me get down here in the first place-"

"What?! I've literally been-"

"As reprimand for your dastardly crimes. You are obligated to offer me one hand. But ONLY one, or your punishment shall evolve into death by spray bottle." Dramatically, he holds out his hand to his exasperated partner.

In support, you give the spray bottle a little squeeze in Jayce's direction, to which he shoots you a dark look. You merely grin back.

Then Jayce offers Viktor his hand, their fingers wrapping around the others wrist. "Slow." Viktor instructs, as he readjusts his legs into the right position. Jayce nods.

Then Jayce gently pulls Viktor up as Viktor balances between his feet and his cane.

"Thank you." He says, patting Jayce on the cheek, before promptly turning on his heel to retreat back to his desk.

They're so silly, I love them so much.

The next part

[animeshotsh]

Housing | Viktor x Jayce x Kid!Reader | Arcane ¤

Summary: Moving out its a pain.

Warnings: PLATONIC - Fluff - SFW - Grammar mistakes - More Viktor than Jayce - OFF CANON EVENTS - GN reader - Reader is nicknamed Spark -

Jayce groaned as he lifted the last box and left it inside the new living room. He could see the mess and was feeling tired already.

It was luck that Vi and Caitlyn were able to get off from work and help him and Viktor move.

When you met Vi you were scared of her, but Vi saw you as how her sister used to be. So she adapted soon to you. And in no time she had you in her arms.

Caitlyn was happy for her friend, nodding at the house and how you were taking Viktor's hand to show him around (even if Viktor himself did pick the house). Jayce just blushed but smiled feeling his heart bump quickly.

As night came the only two rooms that were ready were the bedrooms. The room destinated for home lab had all the things inside and was secured with a key. And the last room was left with half empy boxes.

The five of you were now eating some takeout, Vi, Caitlyn and Jayce did most of the talk while Viktor made sure you did not choke eating the delicious food.

"So, when its the weeding then?" Vi asked joking getting a caught from Jayce and an annoyed look from Viktor "I mean, you two have a kid already"

"Mom and dad married?" You asked now getting a soft pet from Caitlyn

"They are so cute" She said cleaning around your mouth

"They are" Viktor responded ignoring Vi question as she let herself fall on the chair in fake hurt.

~~~~~~~~~

The next days passed by moving boxes, getting rooms ready and just making the house feel like a home.

Your room was Jayce and Viktor first task at hand. It was big enought so you could also play there. When deciding the wall color Jayce said blue and Viktor said how it would make the room look sad.

Then Jayce suggested painting above a blue base, different shapes from animals to some of their own equations on the wall. Viktor had give it a long thought then decided it was a good idea.

Of course you also helped, adding your printed hand on the wall then asking Viktor and Jayce for the same.

It was a beautiful piece of art full of love.

They also decided to adds some lights to turn during the night in different shapes.

Moving to their own room was easier, they decided that a plain white wall was alright.

The storage room was full with boxes and things they needed to sort out.

Their home lab was a room secured with a key. So no, you could not enter on your own. They had smaller things there, but a big board and lots of notes and pappers filled the room within the first week. Jayce even decided to use the window to write down equations.

Viktor learned to love this home lab. He could leave his notes there and take them back at the Academy, was able to enjoy a nice breakfast while working there. And he could pass a good amount of time of the morning with Jayce and you.

He never once thought food could teast better when being in good company, no. His brain commanded his way of seeing life, even with his mother and later Jayce food was the same. And he did love both of them dearly.

But with you, running around, showing your draws, how you were slowly learning the alphabhet or how you would ask one of them something from a book they had gifted you.

He wanted to get his flavor sense checked, because why did now his coffee teast better? Why were these coockies so sweet? Was because you had fed him one? Why did dinner feel warmer and like a small party each night?

No, his mind could not understand. But he was happy and so were Jayce and You, so for him that was enought.

[am-i-interrupting]

Across the River | Extra

@night-fall-moon gave me the tiniest push so here we are! Aside, look at this young Sevika art.

Hardheads

Summary: Background into how you got your fighting style. Specifically, some important moments in time where you had a woman of incredible loyalty right beside you.

You held the dart between your fingers. Short and chubby as they were wrapped around the steel. You let out a small grunt as you threw it.

“Good job, my dear,” your uncle praised.

The dart was just a bit below the red center ring, near the middle of the single rings.

He adjusted your position on his shoulder. “You’re getting better,” he said.

You reached for the darts. You collected the four you’d thrown. All of them crammed in your small hands.

“Before you know it, they’ll be beating your streak, Sevika.”

Your breath caught in your throat as your head whipped around to the woman. She’d always been a bit of a mystery to you. You didn’t know really anything about her. Well, other than the fact that she was tall and her voice was nice to listen to and she was really pretty.

A chuckle came from the woman causing you to smile. “I think it’ll be a while but whatever you say, boss man.”

You pulled lightly on the hair that was tied up at the base of your uncle’s head. “Again!” you insisted.

He smiled and walked back to where he had been. You threw one dart. It hit the singles. Your second was in the doubles. Your third was down in the singles again. You grunted to yourself.

“Keep your elbow more leveled,” Sevika told you from her seat where she was shuffling cards.

You looked over at her. Her hands moved fast and dexterous. Practiced motions made the cards slide from hand to hand. She handed out cards with a grace and ease.

Her hand brought her drink up to her mouth. The black of her lipstick rubbed off on her mug. Her eyes ran over the cards in her hands. Then they flickered up and met yours.

She glanced at the board and then back at you.

You breathed out of your mouth, slow and steady. Your teeth pulled at your lip and your brow furrowed. You took a moment and tried to run through your throw. You did it once, twice, three, four times. You continued until you felt like you headed her words.

With your elbow more leveled, you released the dart from your fingers. Time seemed to slow as it sped through the air. Anxiety gripped your heart and held it tight. The breath seemed to be stolen from your lungs.

You screamed and your arms went up in the air. Your uncle nearly dropped you due to your sudden movement and sound so close to his ear. He caught you with your body now pointed towards Sevika.

“Did you see?! Did you see?!” you asked her.

“Yeah, good job, kid,” she said as she reached out and patted your shoulder before she put her attention on her cards again.

You squealed and spun around in your uncle’s arms so he was cradling. Your legs kicked in excitement.

“I got a bullseye, Uncle Sil!” you yelled for the whole bar to hear.

“Yes, you did. I’m proud,” he told you as he adjusted his grip on you to be something more secure.

Several people, your parents and other uncle included, crowded around to see what the four year old’s first bullseye. Barely able to be considered but just inside the red ring enough.

The Last Drop was more empty now than it ever had been. You were one of the four people inside the public area.

You kept throwing darts and missing. You should be doing better than this but your mind was going wild. It was racing and you couldn’t keep up. So many thoughts going through your head and you had no idea where to start.

“Hey, kid,” a familiar, smoked voice said, “can I join you?”

You looked over and saw Sevika. Her hair all down to her shoulders now when it used to go past them. Her face was devoid of any of her usual makeup. Several shallow cuts on her face were likely the reason why.

It’d been only two days since everything that happened. The cuts were already scabbed over how but the few bruises you could see peaking out of her clothing weren’t fairing nearly as well.

You handed a dart off to her. She threw it. It landed in the triple ring. Despite not preforming to her normal standard, she was still doing better than you. Most of yours were in the singe rings

Neither of you said anything for a while. The bar was silent. Not even a song came through on the jutebox. No hushed conversations. Just the sounds of darts being embedded into a board and the occasional clicking of something against glass.

It was an eerie silence that left you uneasy. It did nothing to help your racing thoughts.

“You can do better than that,” Sevika said when one of your darts landed in the white.

“So can you,” you fired back dryly.

She sighed in response. “Listen, kid, I—“

“I don’t want an apology,” a loud thunk, “or any sympathy,” another thunk, “or any of the meaningless words everyone’s been saying for the past two god forsaken fucking days!” a third think. “You can’t do or say anything—“ you walked towards the board and jerked out the darts— “that will make anything better so if you’re not going to say something useful just leave me alone.”

A hand was laid on your shoulder. Your head leaned forward as you slumped. Another thunk against the board.

“Come here, kid,” she said as she wrapped her arms around you.

Your head was guided into her shoulder. She was warm and steady. She smelled like smoke and alcohol. Your hands were limp at your sides but hers pressed you closer.

“Your parents were good people,” she told you. “They died fighting for the cause. You can’t surrender because they can’t fight anymore. You’ve got to stand up and fight harder. Piltover won’t know what hit them when you start fighting.”

“I don’t know how,” you admitted. “Without them I don’t know how to fight. It’s too much.”

“I’ll teach you,” she promised.

Your hands wrapped around her waist. You held onto her like a lifeline.

“Patience is one of the most important things in a fight,” Sevika said as the two of you circled each other. “If you move too fast you risk opening yourself up to vulnerabilities but if you move too slow you lose your opponent’s. Make sense?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Let’s go again.”

The two of you circled around each other, hands at the defense. Neither of you moved for a long couple of moments. You simply watched one another.

Sevika took a step forward. You mimicked her. It didn’t take long for the two of you to go from several feet away to several inches.

She swung at you. You dunked down. You took the opening to punch at her torso, just below her ribs. She went back. You moved forward. She reached again. This time her hit got you upside the head.

You winced as you stumbled. The world was blurry for several seconds.

Sevika’s hands gripped your shirt and pulled you toward her. Her head reared back and then banged against yours. Your head pounded in agony as the world went back to nonsense.

She pushed you. You fell backwards.

“We’re gonna have to work on that too,” she said. “Make you a bit more hardheaded.”

You blinked several times before you were able to make out the dark figure of your mentor. Her hand was extended to you as she leaned down. Her hair blew ever so slightly in her face.

You grabbed her hand and allowed yourself to be hauled up.

“Or maybe you should let me do brain surgery on you and get out that metal in your skull,” you said.

She laughed as she threw her arm around you. “You’re funny, kid.”

[x-reader-things]

Opening up requests for Arcane again cause I need to practice writing requests again-

Make sure to look at the rules and character list before requesting though!!

[book-place]

As Seen on Disney

Warnings: slight mentions of child abandonment, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Viktor Hargreeves x daughter reader, Hargreeves siblings x niece reader

Request: Hello may I request platonic Hargreeves with Vanya! Daughter reader? Like maybe Vanya found us in a basket in front of her door and was like "welp, might as well" (this takes place in first season) and for some reason we have a Disney vibe™️ if reader burst in a song other people join and know the lyrics and dance, she can underastand animals, etc. Like Giselle from Enchanted but reader is kind of embarrased. I just want everyone to be dumbfonded by this real life Disney princess

Request by: Anon

*not my gif*

Summary: Viktor finally introduces you to his siblings

A/n: This kinda sucks, sorry

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

“Guys,” Viktor cleared his throat, almost nervously, “I want you to meet my daughter, Y/n.”

All of his siblings froze, their eyes snapping over to where he stood in the doorway of the living room, watching as he gently beckoned to someone from off to the side.

Slowly, you shuffled into view with your head hung low, eyes flitting up to everyone in the room for a second before immediately skirting away again, “Hi,” You whispered shyly.

“D-daughter?” Diego stuttered out, unable to wrap his mind around the fact that his own brother had a child he never knew about.

“Not biologically!” Viktor immediately assured them, “But a few years ago she was left on my doorstep with a note talking about how her mother didn’t know anyone else that could take care of her.”

Allison raised an eyebrow, “Do you know her mother?”

Viktor shook his head lightly, “No, no, it’s not like that. It’s-“

“I’m like you guys,” You blurted out, face reddening at your own words.

Fives eyebrows shot up, “Like us in the way of having special abilities?”

“Exactly like that,” Viktor confirmed, reaching over and rubbing your back comfortingly, “I was going to tell you guys about her during dads funeral but then everything happened and I never got the chance.”

“Ooh!” Klaus squealed, bounding over and scooping you up in his arms, “I have another neice! Which isn’t saying much because I never met Claire, but-“

“Put her down, you moron,” Five hissed, sauntering over and slapping his brothers hands away, “You’re probably making her uncomfortable.”

You shook your head a little bit, “No, it’s alright.” You whispered.

“So, kid,” Diego said, bracing his arms on his knees as he leaned forward, “What is it that you can do?”

And all at once, you seemed to crawl back into your shell and your eyes averted themselves to the ground once more where you were kicking your shoe back and forth slightly.

“She can talk to animals,” Viktor told them for you, “It’s okay,” He whispered just for you to hear, “They’ll understand.”

You looked up at him for a moment, reading his eyes, before shyly looking back at your aunt and uncles and whispering, “I can also sing.”

“What do you mean by that?” Luther asked out of pure curiosity.

“It’s like a Disney movie,” Your father offered helpfully, “She can’t control it, but it happens a lot where she randomly breaks into song.”

It’s silent for a moment, one that had you holding your breath and your heart hammering from not only anticipation for how they would react, but from sheer embarrassment of it all.

“That is so cool!” Klaus suddenly exclaimed, “Show me! Show me! Show me!” He was bouncing up and down like a child.

Relief flooded through you like a tsunami wave and you cracked a small smile at the fact that they weren’t weirded out or disgusted by what you could do.

“She can’t control it,” Five hissed before rolling his eyes at the man, “God, don’t you listen to anything?”

“That is so cool!” Allison agreed, walking over and crouching in front of you before embracing you gently, “And it’s very nice to meet you, Y/n.” A chorus of agreements sounded from the rest of the siblings.

Your grin widened as you made eye contact with your father, who grinned widely at you back. Not just you, but he too had been dreading and been so nervous for how today was going to go that when it actually went well, it felt like a giant weight was being lifted off of your shoulders.

The Hargreeves 🦹- @lovanitu @your-local-questioning-agender @jvdethirlwall @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @mukbee @i-writes-things @ladyagagaslefttoe @etanordoesbullsh1t

[hermaeusmorax]

What have you done?

CHARACTERS: Jayce x reader, slight Viktor x reader (more platonic!)

SUMMARY: you, Jayce and Viktor share history. You're arguing with Jayce about his actions in the Undercity. Reader is described having a metal arm!

WARNINGS: SET IN SEASON 02 EPISODE 06 SPOILERS AHEAD! this is very angsty, descriptions of death and bodies, gets steamy in the end (minors DNI!), enemies to lovers type shit (my jam!)

A/N: okay so this is my very first piece after a 4 years HIATUS (hiii haha), anyways, fucked up Hexcore!Jayce is just sooo *twirls hair*

"What have you done?" You scream as you blindly lunge towards Jayce, a random weapon tightly clutched in your hands — no doubt discarded by some, now dead, Noxian soldier. You could barely see an inch in front of you due to the surging chaos, but you were sure about Jayce, you would never mistake him, his silhouette, his scent.

It had been months since Jinx's attack on the Counsil. Months since Viktor emerged out of the Hexcore changed, taking you to Zaun with him and leaving Jayce behind. You were a chemist, Viktor's childhood best friend that stuck by him since the very beginning. You and Jayce had a brief, intense, spark. It happened before him and Mel, before it became hard to grasp his attention, being Piltover's golden star and everything. It hurt when you left him, standing at the laboratory, his pleading brown eyes boring holes into yours and Viktor's backs. But Viktor was right, your paths, your visions, had long strayed, being held together only by lasting affection.

In Zaun, at Viktor's — The Herald's — growing community, you acted as a chemist again. Helping the newly cured zaunites, researching to improve their lives as much as possible. You had been specially busy since Vander's arrival, severely mutilated by Viktor's former teacher and in desperate need of help. You were working in your makeshift lab, absent mindedly humming a familiar tune when hell broke loose.

A loud, sharp sound echoed, followed by more crashing sounds and piercing screams. Smoke rose in the air, making it almost impossible to inhale. For a split second you could hear Viktor's voice in your head whispering, "Jayce", you ran as fast as your legs permitted, desperate to locate the origin of the sound, to locate Viktor. When you finally did find them, you wished you hadn't. The starking image of his limp and dead body made your breath hitch, mind speeding so much to make sense of things it made you dizzy. Blood rushed to your ears, making a deafening ringing sound, you rubbed your eyes, squinting to adjust, then you saw another figure, a tall and dark frame.

Jayce looked, different, but your brain had no time to process that information as you grabbed the first weapon you could find thrown on the floor, lunging at him. "What did you do?" "How could you?" "I hate you!" you breathlessly shout, aiming for Jayce's head with your stray weapon, then again, you never were much of a fighter, that was Jayce's job. The last thing you heard before the world went complete black, was his voice, a cry of your name, sounding so broken and lost.

"Sorry for knocking you out like that. I hope your head's not hurting too much." you heard Jayce's soft voice, distant at first as you were regaining consciousness, then close, right at your ears. You slowly woke up, blinking the throbbing pain away you were at last able to recognize your surroundings.

Jayce had brought you to your old laboratory, right at Piltover's heart, where you had last seen him, where you had left him. You were sitting in a chair, your mechanical arm resting on the table beside you, laying alongside dirty, well-worn tools. "I fixed it. Your arm. It looked broken and I-" Jayce blurted out, stopping with a nervous chuckle when you looked at him. "My technique might not be as delicate as Viktor's but it's fixed, working. I promise!". When Viktor's name left Jayce's lips, a haunting image of his corpse flashed in your mind, compelling you to leap forward and forcefully grab Jayce's collar, gripping so tight your knuckles turned white, drained of blood. You were trembling horribly, fueled by an ugly mixture of grief and hatred, your words came out hoarse, stinging like a whip.

"You promise? Ha! You killed him Jayce! You- you just disappear and then when you finally come to us, you go and kill him? What's wrong with you? I don't know you anymore, you've become someone else entirely and I- No!" you were panting, tears angrily threatening to spill "That's too gentle for you, you're a murderer, Jayce, a monster!".

Jayce's mind was racing, spinning with the force of your words and then it finally snapped. "Shut the fuck up!" he tore your hands away from his shirt, holding your wrists and pulling you close, pressed up against his chest. "You have no idea Y/N! You can't possibly begin to understand what I was put through!" "I was in there, while you and Viktor were out here playing house!" "I kept my promise!".

Jayce's eyes were red, frantically shaking looking into your own, in desperate search of something. He was so close, you could feel his heartbeat and his breath fanning your face, his scent was attacking your nostrils mercilessly, engulfing you in his presence. Like this you could almost see the old Jayce inside there, somewhere — untainted, full of promise — the one you fell hard for. All it took was a single look from him. A single, meaningful, glance down to your mouth from his so pretty brown eyes. He was so, so close. Next thing you knew you and Jayce were in each other's arms, kissing so forcefully it almost broke skin. Kissing like your very lives depend on it, like you'll die of asphyxiation if you stop.

Jayce hoisted you up the table, sending tools and papers flying, both of you couldn't care less right now. He positioned himself in between your legs, leaning some of his body weight on you, forcing your back to meet the cold surface beneath. "Jayce!" you breathed out, talking into his mouth, gasping for air and breaking the kiss for a second too long. Your hands, firmly resting on the back of his neck, wandered to the hem of your shirt, fidgeting with it, trying to lose it. Jayce noticed and made quick work of your shirt, hurriedly sliding it over your head and tossing aside to a forgotten corner.

"Don't stop" you huffed against him again, voice dripping with want, you struggled blindly to unbuckle his belt, too busy reciprocating his fervent kisses to bother to look down. "I got you" Jayce urged, going crazy with the way your lips felt on his, even more addicting than he remembers. He reached down, tugging off your pants and underwear in one precise motion. Your senses were completely overwhelmed, all you were able to think, see, hear, smell and feel was Jayce.

You were both pouring everything into this kiss, into this very moment. Bleeding years of bottled up love and regrets into each other's systems. Even still, you harbored feelings for him, and him you. Despite the hurricane of emotions and thoughts swirling inside your head, a small, nagging voice coming from the darkest dephts of your mind, kept quietly chanting "What have you done, Y/N?"

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

Viktor x Reader Headcanons

Pronouns for reader: Gender neutral, AFAB undertones if you squint

Relationship type: Platonic to Romantic

General Idea: Some silly little headcanons I have for Viktor because he's still my silly little princess. Even after the whole glorious evolution thing.

Content Warnings: S1 Viktor, no S2 spoilers, But there as little bit of s2 viktor's mindset, I'm projecting a little bit (a lot) but it's fine.

~☆~

I honestly see Viktor as asexual with light aromantic undertones (kinda like demiromantic, I guess??). He rarely ever developes romantic feelings. Like its a once in a blue moon thing.

Like... he has to know you for YEARS before something in his head is like "Oh... hey they kinda cute?"

However, when he DOES develop feelings that go beyond friendship, Viktor HEAVILY struggles with coming to terms with them. Not in like a "I don't DO feelings" type way, but more in a "Well... no... it could be this" type of way.

Oh, his heart rate speeds up a little bit when you two accidently brush hands? It must just be his nerves.

When he does realize that he has feelings for someone, it's kind of like that scene in Gravity Falls where Dipper is like "It's not like I stay awake at night thinking about Wendy" and it cuts to him laying awake thinking about Wendy XD

If he likes someone romantically, he talks about them a lot. Like as if trying to bring them up as much as he can. Like "Oh (Y/N) mentioned something about that book, said they really liked it" Or "(Y/N) actually said something similar about that topic" If he could yap about you for hours, he probably would.

Even if you're being PAINFULLY obvious about your romantic feelings towards Viktor, he will firmly believe you're just being friendly.

Why he does it is a mix between two things: one is that he's just not awesome with people. And second is that he firmly believes someone like you could never love someone like him back.

One night, Viktor had been constantly working without break, so you practically dragged him to his room by his ear and forced him to get some rest.

Viktor has a strong habit of having his workspace FILLED with old mugs, sometimes days old. He doesn't really mean to, just too wrapped up in Hextech to really notice.

He also struggles with meals too. Just like above, because he literally just gets too wrapped up in his work.

If Viktor actually confesses feelings, it's such an interesting experience. Because he doesn't just flat out say "Hey I have feelings for you". He stumbles over his words and rambles about something random in the middle of it. So you gotta help him out a little bit.

Viktor's love language is quality time. He'll make sure his seat is next to you when it can, he always yaps about what he's uncovered about Hextech.

Speaking of Hextech, if you just sit there and watch him work? He'd about die of happiness on the spot. If you, someone he really loved, took an interest to something he truly loved DOING? Perfect.

He used to get really flustered about physical affection. Like you held his hand one time and he about combusted. He was red in the face for hours. He got better with it overtime, of course. But for the first few months, he was pretty much bright red the whole time.

Dates are rare, neither of you have the time for it. But when you two do have dates of some kind, they're mostly stay at home type things.

You know that thing kids do? Like playing their own separate things together? Parallel play, I think it's called? Yeah you two do that a lot.

Viktor will be reading some papers and you'll be reading a book, your feet in his lap.

Speaking of, Viktor is such a reader omg He doesn't read a lot anymore due to his constant workload, but when he does, he reads a lot of like... old books. The ones with yellowing pages and smell nice? Yeah... those ones!

If you two slept in the same bed, he'd be all like... giggly and nervous the first few times. Just like affection, he'd get used to it. But it's still cute.

When you two are cuddling, run your fingers in his hair. He'll melt right into you regardless of the situation. It's like an instant relax button for him.

Him laying his head on your chest, and you running your fingers through his hair? Something about it just... works. It calms him down a lot and makes him feel at peace.

His favorite place to kiss is the crook of your neck. Especially if you're around his height (he's like... between 5'7 and 5'10. I don't remember exactly).

Or your temples. It's simple, it doesn't attract a lot of attention. And let's be real, it's underrated as hell.

He's not big on PDA, but he'll hold your hand in public. He likes holding onto just one of your fingers, like your pinkie or something like that. It, just like temple kisses, is simple and discreet.

He doesn't often say "I love you". He feels bad about it, but you don't mind. He often says I love you without saying it. Things like holding you while you sleep, kissing your forehead as you two read in each other's arms, weaving your fingers with his while he works.

He gets self-conscious a lot. He thinks you could do a lot better than him and that he's not perfect.

Please kiss this poor boy all over and tell him he's perfect as is 😭😭

~☆~

A/N:The Arcane brainrot has gotten to me... This is how I'm coping with the finale. But I've wanted to write Viktor or Sevika stuff for a HOT minute now. I've been in the Arcane fandom for YEARS (a fanfic writer even longer) but this is my first Arcane fic... wild XD

For more fics: my masterlist!

~Squeed

[apollowhoo]

SINCE YOU SAID YOU HAVE NO ARCANE ONES I WILL HAPPILY TAKE ONE OF VI, SILCO, EKKO, OR VIKTOR!!!! (Silco preferably platonic ((x child reader)) cuz idk I see him more like a father figure). EVERYBODY ELSE IS UP TO YOU BUT I LOVE HURT/COMFORT AND YOUR WORK SO KEEP UP THE GOOD WRITING LOVE!

I ACTUALLY LOVE YOU😿😿

SILCO X CHILD!READER

The heavy air of Zaun wrapped around you like a suffocating blanket, the world around you dim under the flickering green glow of the Undercity’s lights. You sat on the cold metal floor of Silco’s office, knees pulled tightly to your chest, trying to calm your shaking body down.

The door creaked open and you froze, expecting to be yelled at for being here uninvited. But Silco’s sharp eyes softened as they fell onto you, his usually stern side disappearing. He approached without a word, crouching to your level.

“What happened?” His voice was low, not demanding, just… asking.

You didn’t answer at first. Would he even care? You weren’t much to him—just another orphan tangled up in his schemes.

But Silco waited patiently, his gaze steady, until the words spilled from your lips in a choked sob. “I—I didn’t mean to mess up, I swear. They— they just kept pushing and saying—saying I wasn’t good enough to even be here!”

His rough hand, settled gently on your shoulder. “Zaun isn’t kind,” he murmured, his tone oddly soothing. “It doesn’t reward softness. But that doesn’t mean you have to bear cruelty alone.”

The unexpected warmth in his voice made your chest ache. “Why… why are you being nice?”

Silco exhaled sharply, almost amused. “You remind me of someone,” he simply said before suddenly standing then, extending a hand. “Come. Let’s remind them why Zaun never underestimates its own.”

You hesitated for a moment before slipping your trembling hand into his. For the first time in days, you felt a flicker of strength reignite within you.

[deathbxnny]

Currently in a cfs/me flare up after losing my mind over the Arcane finale (lmao), and it’s been making me think about the characters keeping company to an exhausted & feverish reader. You can choose if you want to make it chronic illness related or more general, I’m just interested how you’d write them in a situation like that 🐁💖 Would love to see Vi, Caitlyn, and Viktor (pre-robojesus) if that’s okay :)) Both platonic and romantic are fine to me too!

Just wanted to add to the end that I loved your Timekeeper fic so much <3 Thank you for writing my request, it actually made me roll around my bed in joy :”D I hope days start getting better for you soon, stay safe 💖💖

Arcane characters with a chronically ill s/o. | Viktor, Caitlyn, Vi x Gn!Reader

Hey there, Anon! Sorry that it took so long to get to your request, but I hope you're doing better now! Im so glad to hear that you liked my last post too!<3

Content: Vague chronical illness, slight angst, fluff, can be read as platonic or romantic tbh, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》VIKTOR

He knows what it's like to deal with a chronical illness and, therefore, is the best prepared out of the three.

Viktor always has an eye on you and practically studied what makes your sickness get worse. He sees the patterns and tries his best to quickly get you out of situations that could provoke them.

Sometimes, he feels guilty that he isn't able to do more to help you, especially when he, too, is suffering. He appreciates your presence because of that, since you're a comfort to him and someone who understands how he feels. You spend a lot of time together, perhaps even cuddled up during darker days, just not to not feel alone.

He definitely makes your room extra comfortable whenever your flare-ups return. Viktor will get you your favorite food or drink and just sit by your bed until you feel a bit better.

Absolutely works in your room whilst you're laying sick in bed, as he's worried you may get worse in his absence. This indirectly also gets him out of the laboratory often, which does him way more good than he may realise.

All in all, he's the best person to have around when dealing with a difficult chronical illness.

》CAITLYN

She's hellbent on finding a cure one way or another. Cait is stubborn and doesn't take no for an answer. To her, even the impossible may become possible if she works hard enough. So expect the best doctors in Piltover to fuss over you at all times.

She might come off as overbearing at times, mainly because she's extremely worried about your health. Seeing you sick and exhausted all the time hurt her.

Definitely spoils you with anything and everything you want in hopes of distracting you from the pain you were in, even if it's just momentarily.

Tries taking walks with you at times, even if they are short and quick. She thinks that fresh air is good for your health and that you appreciate the time you spend together that way.

If you're feeling lonely, she'll lay in bed with you and speak with you about random topics, anything that comes to mind. She'll definitely also talk about work and the missions she went on.

She may not be able to relate to you, but she'll educate herself on everything regarding your health and illness in the hope of making life easier for you.

》VI

She feels helpless at times. She really does, and it hurts to see you hurt. Unable to really help or find a potential cure/doctor to make things easier, she becomes a little creative with the way she deals with it.

Vi is extremely overprotective and doesn't let you do much on your own. Expect her to do absolutely all the heavy lifting and some of the harder household chores, just so that you don't have to exhaust yourself even more.

Tries making your days better by thinking of fun and accessible things to do. She wants to distract you from the pain and give you a semi-normal life, as she believes you deserve at least that.

Longgg cuddle sessions in which you just talk and laugh. It's the best way to wind down during a flare-up. It also helps with any loneliness you may feel.

She tries using her connections with Cait and so on to get you some help when things get seriously bad. She's terrified of losing you and can't bear the thought of it. It keeps her up at night.

Every day may be a new challenge, but she'll never give up on you, that's for sure.

[katz-rambles]

Hi! I saw your requests were open and I was wondering if you could do a viktor x fem!reader where she finds out viktor’s birthday and decides to crochet him a cute sweater or something (just makes him a present) and a cake and he gets a lil teared up cause no one really went to the trouble of celebrating his birthday? 🧡

Awww, this is soo cute! I love it!!

I'm so sorry this took so long, Anon. But I hope you enjoy this little Viktor drabble!

(fluff, comfort, can be read as either romantic or platonic, fem!reader, I think this is it!)

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰

Your knocks on the heavy door to the lab do not go unnoticed. You can hear the footsteps followed by the thumping of his cane that's muffled by the door. The door opens, almost cautiously, just enough so Viktor can see who it is. His eyes soften when he fully takes in who it is and he opens the door wide, allowing you to step inside. His attention is diverted from you towards the wrapped box you're holding.

You place it down on the table, careful to not disturb any of the materials on top of the table as you do so. His eyes are trained on the box as he limps towards you. You can tell, he's trying to figure out what it's for. “I don't remember getting any more supplies.” He huffs and stands beside you. You can't hold back the smile on your face as you take in his adorably confused expression.

“I heard it was your birthday. What kind of person would I be if I didn't get you a little something?” He looks almost taken aback by your words, but he's quick to fix his composure again before his emotions become too obvious. He looks at you and then back at the wrapped box and then back at you again. “This.. is for me?” His voice seems to echo throughout the empty lab, you watch as he cocks his head to the side while staring at the box. You nod at him and motion for him to open it.

His hands are shaky as he opens the box to reveal a crocheted sweater. It's clear it was handmade. Sitting on top of the sweater is a little card with the words ‘happy birthday’ in outlined letters. He takes a moment to stare at it before he opens the card. A happy birthday wish is on one side while the other has multiple different birthday wishes with signatures beside them. One of them is even from Mel.

He looks up at you with a stern expression, and for a moment, you're afraid you did something wrong. But it soon fades and his eyes become watery as he quickly looks away from you. You can feel your heart throb at his reaction. It takes a second before he looks back at you, he's not crying but the tears are evident. He lets out a shaky breath and wipes his eyes. “Thank you, truly. You didn't have to,” he nods at you and looks away again before he continues, “it's been a while since someone cared enough to do this.” His words send a pang of hurt through you, he's one of the most caring people you've ever met. You almost don't believe him.

“Viktor.. it's your birthday. You deserve this, and more,” you reach over to him and brush your hand against his face. Your hand gently cups his face and you kiss his cheek. 

“Happy birthday, Viktor.” You mumble against his cheek before pulling away from him.

He watches you leave the lab, and he makes a mental note to make sure to wear the sweater when he knows you'll be around.

[aspenmissing]

ᴀʀᴄᴀɴᴇ: ʙᴀᴛʜʀᴏᴏᴍ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ||

5985 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴᴜᴅɪᴛʏ (ɴᴏ ɴᴜᴅɪᴛʏ ɪɴ ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ'ꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ. ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏ ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟ) , ᴏᴏᴄ ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴄᴜᴛᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴏᴜʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇʟʏ ᴍᴇɴ ᴀɴᴅ 'ᴍᴜꜱᴛ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛ' ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ ɪɴᴠᴏʟᴠɪɴɢ ꜱʜᴏᴡᴇʀꜱ, ʙᴀᴛʜꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏɴɢ - ɪɴᴄʀᴇᴅɪʙʟʏ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙʀᴜꜱʜ - ʜᴀɪʀ.

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ/ᴊɪɴx

JAYCE

The evening at the workshop in their apartment had been a whirlwind of calculations, late-night tinkering, and discoveries. Jayce sat at his workbench, weary but content with the progress he'd made. You had been there all day, by his side, offering quiet support, and now the sounds of the workshop had quieted down.

"How about a break?" you suggested, stretching slightly, your voice soft and soothing.

Jayce paused, looking up from his work, his eyes meeting yours. There was a weariness in his gaze, but also a quiet appreciation. "Sounds perfect," he said, his voice low but filled with gratitude.

Without another word, the two of you made your way out of the workshop, Jayce trailing slowly behind you to the bathroom, the familiar scent of metal and oil from the workshop lingered faintly, but it quickly gave way to the soft steam as the shower was turned on.

The two of you, both covered in the day's grime and sweat, quickly shed your clothes, stepping into the shower together. The warm water felt like a release from the weight of the day. Jayce stood just behind you, letting the water pour over his shoulders as you reached for the body wash.

"Let me take care of you first," you said softly, your hands gently lathering up the sponge.

You moved behind him, slowly running your hands over his back. The warmth of your fingers against his skin was both soothing and intimate, each motion a silent expression of how much you cared for him. The tension in his muscles began to melt away under your touch, and Jayce let out a quiet sigh of relief.

"That feels amazing," he murmured, his voice thick with relaxation.

You smiled, pleased to see him unwind under your touch. "You deserve it."

After a few moments, Jayce turned to face you, his eyes warm with appreciation. "Your turn," he said, his voice gentle but insistent. He squeezed a bit of body wash into his hands, his fingers gliding over your skin as he began to wash your back. His touch was tender, each motion slow and deliberate, making sure to be gentle, knowing how hard you worked and how much you needed this time to unwind.

His hands moved with care, massaging away the tension in your back. It felt so calming, so loving, that you couldn't help but close your eyes and lean into his touch.

"You're so gentle," you whispered, the warmth of his hands sending a soft shiver down your spine. "I never want this moment to end."

Jayce smiled softly, his gaze tender as he continued to massage your back. "I’ll always take care of you," he replied quietly, his voice full of sincerity. "You deserve nothing less."

As he finished, his hands lingered on your shoulders, pulling you gently into his arms. He pressed his chest against your back, his body warm against yours. You could feel his heartbeat thumping softly against you, and it brought a sense of peace and closeness.

Jayce's lips found the back of your neck, his kisses soft and slow, almost as if he were savouring the moment. He placed another gentle kiss on your skin, moving up to your shoulder, before pulling you even closer, wrapping his arms around you in a warm embrace.

"I love you," he whispered against your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "I just want to hold you like this forever."

You smiled, turning slightly in his arms so you could meet his gaze. "I love you too, Jayce. And please don't ever let me go."

With your arms around each other, standing beneath the warm shower, you both stayed there, savouring the quiet intimacy of the moment. No words were needed as you held each other close, surrounded by the warmth of the water and the even warmer connection between you.

VIKTOR

The evening at the workshop had been filled with quiet determination. Viktor, as always, had been hunched over his workbench, lost in the intricacies of his projects. His cane was propped up beside him, his brace still firmly in place. The toll of his condition had been ever-present, but there was a softness in the way he moved, an acknowledgment of the little things that made life more bearable—like having you by his side.

You had been working alongside him, but now, as the day wound down, you could see how worn out he was. His movements were slower than usual, his body clearly aching from long hours at the bench. You walked over to him, offering a small smile as you gently touched his shoulder.

"Viktor," you said softly, "how about a break? A nice shower? You look like you could use one."

Viktor looked up, the usual spark in his eyes dimmed slightly by exhaustion, but he returned your smile. "I suppose I could use a bit of relaxation," he admitted, though there was a slight hesitation in his voice. He’d never been one to ask for help, but with you, he allowed himself to let down his guard.

You helped him to his feet, steadying him as he leaned on his cane. His movements were deliberate, slow, but there was still that same sharp intelligence in his eyes, even as the pain of his condition settled in. Together, you made your way to the small, private bathroom attached to the workshop, where you had set up a little corner of comfort for moments like these.

The shower was already steaming by the time you arrived, and Viktor gave a small, tired laugh as he looked at the stool that was positioned under the warm spray.

"Only you would think to have a stool in the shower," he teased, his voice light despite the heaviness of his body. "You really do know me."

You smiled, nodding as you helped him to sit down. "I just want to make sure you're comfortable," you replied, your voice tender and caring.

As Viktor settled onto the stool, you carefully removed his leg brace, setting it aside before doing the same with his back brace, both actions performed with practiced ease. He leaned slightly into you as you worked, his body grateful for the moment of relief. The small stool provided him the perfect support as he sat under the warm spray of the shower, his cane resting securely against the wall outside.

You adjusted the temperature of the water just right, the steam enveloping the space, and you took a deep breath, the air smelling of soap and the comfort of home. As you reached for the shampoo, a soft, familiar tune began to hum from your lips, the melody gentle and soothing. It was a song you often hummed to calm yourself and, now, Viktor as well. Your fingers worked through Viktor’s hair with a tender, practiced touch, massaging the shampoo into his scalp.

Viktor leaned back slightly, closing his eyes, the weight of the day starting to lift from his body as your soft humming surrounded him. His mind, always filled with thoughts, slowed for a moment as he allowed himself to simply be, his body grateful for the care you were giving him.

The hum continued, filling the space with a peaceful warmth. Viktor’s accented voice, thoughtful as always, broke the silence. "You know, I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much I appreciate these small moments," he murmured, his words trailing off as he relaxed further under your touch.

You continued humming, your fingers gently working through his hair, never faltering in your attention to him. "You don't need to," you replied quietly, your voice soft and loving. "I do this because I want to. You deserve this care, Viktor."

His lips curved into a small, tired smile as he let the sound of your humming wash over him. "You make the world feel a little less heavy," he whispered, the emotion in his voice barely masked by his usual calm demeanour. "Even in these quiet moments... I feel like I can breathe."

The two of you shared the quiet intimacy of the moment, the sound of water and your humming blending together, creating a peaceful lull that allowed Viktor to release the tensions of the day.

His breathing slowed, but his mind, as always, was racing. "You know, I've been thinking," he began, his voice soft but filled with the familiar depth of his thoughts.

You let out a light laugh, your fingers continuing to massage his scalp with gentle care. "Of course you have," you replied with a playful tone.

Viktor shook his head lightly at your response, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, as he continues, "The future is... well, uncertain. So much can change in an instant. But with you, it feels... more steady. Like I can trust in something beyond all the... calculations and equations."

You smiled, his words both soothing and touching. "I trust you, Viktor. You’ve brought so much to this world already. You’re brilliant. And, more than that... you’re kind. That’s what matters."

His lips quirked into a smile, though he didn't open his eyes. "I don't know about all that," he murmured. "But I appreciate your faith in me." He shifted slightly, his hand gripping the edge of the stool. "I’m just... trying to do something worthwhile before it’s too late."

You continued massaging the shampoo into his scalp, your fingers moving carefully, soothingly, as he rambled on, lost in his thoughts. "Do you ever stop thinking, Viktor?" you asked playfully, your voice light.

Viktor chuckled, though it was a sound full of weariness. "No, I suppose not. I could do with a bit more silence sometimes. But then again, I wouldn’t be here without my mind always racing. I suppose it’s a gift and a curse."

You rinsed the shampoo from his hair, your hands gently running through the strands to ensure they were clean. Viktor let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing under your touch.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "For being patient with me... for everything."

You smiled, moving to grab the conditioner, but Viktor’s hand reached up, lightly brushing your wrist. "Let me," he said, his voice soft yet insistent.

You hesitated but then nodded, allowing him to take the bottle from your hand. Viktor applied the conditioner to his hair with steady hands, still talking, as his mind never seemed to slow.

"You know, I’ve been thinking about the long term... If I could ever fix things, if I could somehow regain what I’ve lost..." His voice trailed off, but you could hear the weight behind his words. "I’m afraid, sometimes. But then I remember... you’re here. And that thought alone makes everything feel... less daunting."

You leaned in, your lips brushing gently against his temple. "I’ll always be here, Viktor. You don’t have to face anything alone."

He smiled softly, his heart full of affection as you finished rinsing his hair. When you were done, Viktor leaned back slightly, taking a deep breath. Then, in a rare moment of vulnerability, he reached for you, his arms wrapping gently around your waist, pulling his face to your stomach.

"Thank you for being my anchor," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "For being here, even when I’m at my most... complex."

You gently wrapped your arms around his head, brushing a few stray locks of hair back from his ear as you smiled down at him. "You’re my anchor too, Viktor," you said softly, your voice filled with warmth. "We’re in this together, no matter what."

And there, in the small, steam-filled bathroom, the two of you stayed close, the warmth of the shower and the soft sound of water surrounding you. Viktor, despite his struggles, found solace in your presence—just as you found peace in being with him.

JAYVIK

The warm water cascaded down, filling the small bathroom with the comforting sound of a steady shower. The steam curled around you and Viktor, who sat on the small stool beneath the gentle spray, his cane resting against the wall outside. You were seated on the shower floor, sat between VIktor's legs and your head tilted back as Viktor carefully washed your hair.

A soft laugh escaped you as you continued telling Viktor the story. "So, I heard this one from a friend the other day," you said, the sound of your voice light and playful. "A woman walked into a bakery and asked for a dozen donuts. The baker, seeing she was holding a massive bag of flour, said, 'You sure you need all of those? You're already carrying a whole bakery with you!'"

Viktor’s lips curled slightly in amusement as he gently massaged shampoo into your hair, his touch careful and methodical. "I take it your friend isn’t lacking for wit," he remarked, his voice carrying the faintest hint of a smile.

You chuckled, feeling the warmth of the moment. "Oh, no, she’s always full of them. It's a bit dangerous, actually. You never know when she’ll throw out some ridiculous one-liner."

Viktor hummed in response, his hands continuing to work through your hair with a soft, practiced rhythm. "It’s good to have people like that around. Keeps things interesting."

"Definitely," you agreed, your smile widening. "Life's way too serious if you don’t have some humor."

Just as Viktor was rinsing out the shampoo, you heard a soft sound from the bathroom door—one that grew louder as footsteps approached.

"Hey! What about me?!" came a familiar voice, one that immediately made you smile.

Jayce appeared in the doorway, his arms crossed and a pout on his face. His gaze flicked between you and Viktor, clearly unimpressed. "You two just couldn’t wait to start the fun without me, huh? You’re lucky I’m not offended."

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a grin. "Oh, stop whining, Jayce. It’s just a shower," you teased. "You could have joined us anytime."

Suddenly, Jayce shot you a cheeky grin, his mischievous spark lighting up his face. And before you could even question his look, Jayce strips off his shirt and pants with a dramatic flair, sending a wink your way. He stepped into the shower and immediately nudged you playfully. "Scoot a boot," he said, making a motion with his hand as he settled behind you. "Make some room. I'm coming in."

With a teasing groan, you shuffled a bit, sitting up as Jayce comfortably slid in behind you, his legs folding on either side of you. He took your space between Viktor's legs, and before you knew it, you were nestled between him, your back against his chest and his arms wrapped around your waist.

Viktor raised an amused eyebrow but didn’t comment. "Well, since I’ve already taken care of Y/N," he said with a smirk, "I suppose it’s only fair I wash Jayce’s hair now." He gave a small, dry chuckle as he grabbed the shampoo and positioned himself behind Jayce.

Jayce, seemingly comfortable in his new position, chuckled lightly. "Hey, don’t mess it up, Viktor. I’m trusting you with this precious mane."

You snickered at his words but then found yourself leaning back more, trying to relax in the little space between them. The warmth of the shower enveloped all three of you as Viktor began to gently work the shampoo through Jayce’s hair. Jayce let out a contented sigh as Viktor’s fingers worked their magic.

You, not one to let silence take over, continued to ramble away. "You know, I was thinking the other day about something odd, but funny. Do you think animals have favorite foods, or do they just eat whatever’s in front of them? Like... if a dog was given a steak and a peanut butter sandwich, would it know the difference?"

Jayce let out a small laugh. "Knowing you, you probably spent a good amount of time pondering that, huh?"

"I mean, if you think about it, it’s a weird question," you replied, smiling at the absurdity of your own thoughts. "It’s like they don’t have taste buds the way we do, but maybe they have their own version of favorites?"

Viktor, continuing to rinse Jayce’s hair, gave a quiet chuckle at your musings. "I imagine they must. Though I highly doubt a dog is contemplating its culinary choices the same way you do."

Jayce grinned and playfully nudged you. "Yeah, we’re the ones complicating things here. Dogs? They’re just living their best life, getting treats whenever they please."

As Viktor finished massaging the last of the shampoo through Jayce’s hair, you sighed contentedly, completely at peace in the quiet, shared moment between the three of you. The sound of water was soothing, and despite the playful bickering and light teasing, there was a warmth to the atmosphere—a deep comfort in being with them.

It was moments like this that made everything else fade away, the world outside of the bathroom no longer mattering. In this space, there was only the three of you—together.

VANDER

Vander had spent the evening closing up The Last Drop, ensuring everything was locked up tight for the night. As the kids settled into bed, he couldn’t help but glance over at you, swaying gently on your barstool, a grin plastered on your face as you giggled at something only you seemed to find amusing. It was clear you had indulged in more than a couple of drinks tonight, your words slurring and your movements a little too carefree.

He chuckled softly to himself, a warm, affectionate smile crossing his features. "Alright, love," he said, his deep voice filled with amusement, "let's get you upstairs, huh?"

You turned your head to him with wide, slightly unfocused eyes, your lips curling into a grin. "Vander," you said, your voice teasing and dreamy, "you know you’re my favorite, right? I mean, who else would take care of me like you do?"

He raised an eyebrow, helping you steady yourself as you tried to stand. "I’m your favorite? And here I thought it was Powder," he teased as he gently guided you toward the stairs.

You shook your head, stumbling a little as you leaned against him for support. "Nope, it’s you. You’re big and strong, and you’re always so... so calm. Like, you have this thing about you," you said, waving your hands around as if the words were escaping you in a wave of giggles.

Vander simply chuckled, leading you into your shared room and gently sitting you on the bed for a moment. He couldn't help but smile at your antics, shaking his head. "Alright, let’s get you cleaned up before you start singing the praises of my muscles or something," he said, already pulling your shoes off and gently tugging at your clothes.

You giggled again, clearly delighted by the whole situation. "Oh, I think I’d rather... rather see you flex those muscles," you said, your words slurring more as you spoke. Vander gave a soft laugh, amused but not bothered, before he undressed you slowly, making sure not to rush it, even if you were far from steady on your feet.

He helped you stand, guiding you toward the ensuite bathroom, where the warm steam from the shower already filled the air. He turned the water on, adjusting it to just the right temperature, and as you stumbled a bit, he placed a steadying hand on your back. "Alright, love, sit down for me," he instructed gently, leading you to the bathtub.

You plopped down into the tub with a small huff, the cool porcelain against your skin bringing you back to reality just a bit. "You’re so nice to me, Vander," you mumbled, your voice still a little distant as your eyes tried to focus on him.

Vander rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, then reached for the showerhead. He kept a soft smile on his face as he kneeled beside you, the warm water cascading over your hair. He grabbed the shampoo bottle and, as the water splashed against your skin, he gently began to lather it into your hair. "I’m just doing my job, love," he said in a soothing tone. "Taking care of you, like always."

You tilted your head back, your gaze unfocused but somehow full of affection. "You’re the best," you said softly, as if it were a secret between the two of you. "I love how you never... never get mad at me."

Vander chuckled, his hands gently massaging your scalp as he worked the shampoo in. "Well, someone’s got to be the calm one around here," he teased, his fingers working through your hair with a tenderness that came naturally to him. He glanced up, his eyes soft and amused as he watched you relax, the alcohol starting to take a back seat to the comfort of his presence.

"Do you know what I think?" you suddenly said, your words slipping out in a half-ramble. "I think... I think you should wear more shirts like that. You look so... handsome."

Vander’s lips curved into a smirk, unable to resist the warmth in your tone. "You’re a bit tipsy, aren’t you?" he teased lightly, but he couldn’t hide the fondness in his voice.

You smiled dreamily, nodding. "Just a little," you said, leaning back into the tub, your head cradled by the warm water as it rinsed away the soap. "But I still love you."

He smiled back at you, his hands tenderly rinsing your hair. "I love you too, more than you know," he replied, his voice full of quiet affection. He continued washing your hair, the warm water cascading over your skin as he patiently humoured your nonsensical ramblings. It wasn’t a perfect night, but it was a peaceful one, and as long as you were with him, that was all that mattered.

SILCO

The soft flicker of candlelight cast delicate shadows across the room, its warm glow mingling with the sweet scent of lavender and rose petals. The classical music that filled the air was gentle and soothing, wrapping around the room like a soft embrace. You lay in the bathtub, bubbles up to your chin, head tilted back, eyes closed in perfect relaxation. The warm water swirled around you, and every inch of your body seemed to melt into the comfort of the bath. It was a rare moment of peace, and you savored every second of it.

The door creaked softly as it opened, and you heard Silco’s voice calling your name, a hint of amusement in it. "Y/N?"

You hummed in response, too relaxed to speak, your eyes still closed. There was a small pause before the sound of footsteps filled the room. Silco stepped inside, his figure dark against the soft candlelight, his jacket and gloves absent, leaving him only in his dress pants and waistcoat. His sharp eyes scanned the scene in front of him—your form resting in the bath, the flickering candles casting a soft glow on your skin, and the air filled with the calm melody of the classical music.

Silco’s lips curled into a small smile as he chuckled lightly. "I see you’ve made yourself quite comfortable," he said, his voice soft and amused.

You opened your eyes slowly, your smile warm as you saw him standing there. "Just thought I’d indulge a little," you replied, your voice airy, still wrapped in the relaxation of the moment. "It’s been a long day."

He walked over and lowered himself to sit cross-legged on the floor beside you, his waistcoat wrinkling slightly as he settled. His eyes lingered on you, a soft intensity in them as he took in the sight of you so peaceful, so serene. "I can see that. But," he mused, voice almost teasing, "you didn’t wait for me to join you?"

You tilted your head slightly, a playful glint in your eyes as you met his gaze. "I figured you were busy," you teased, your fingers absently tracing the surface of the water. "But now that you’re here, I’m sure I could make room for you."

Silco raised an eyebrow at your playful tone, a half-smirk tugging at his lips. "You always do find a way to get me involved," he said, though there was warmth in his voice, something softer than his usual cool detachment. "But I don’t think I’d fit in here as well as you do."

You chuckled softly. "Maybe not, but you’d look dashing regardless."

He let out a quiet laugh, leaning back slightly as his eyes lingered on the scene, the soft glow of the candles reflecting in his gaze. "I doubt the water would stay as pristine as it is with me in it," he said, voice still warm but filled with that signature dry humor.

"True," you said with a melodic laugh. "But it would be worth it just to see you try."

The two of you settled into a comfortable silence, the soft sounds of the music and the flickering candlelight filling the space between your quiet exchanges. You allowed your head to tilt back again, eyes closed, the warmth of the water easing away the tension in your body. Silco’s presence beside you was grounding, and the intimacy of the moment wrapped around you both.

After a few moments, Silco spoke again, his voice more thoughtful this time. "You know," he began, eyes glinting slightly, "you’ve always been a bit of an enigma to me. Always calm, collected... yet I can see how easily you lose yourself in moments like this." He glanced over at you, his gaze softening as he continued. "I never really understood it until now. But perhaps... it’s not so bad. Seeing you like this."

You met his gaze, a quiet understanding settling in. "It’s important, I think," you said softly, your voice almost a whisper as you traced your fingers through the bubbles, "to find peace where we can, even in a world like ours."

Silco didn’t speak immediately, his gaze distant as he processed your words. The quiet of the room wrapped around you, and for the first time, it felt as if you were both suspended in time, the outside world far away. After a long pause, Silco spoke again, his voice quieter than before. "Perhaps I’ve spent too long trying to control everything around me," he murmured, his tone softer, more vulnerable than usual. "I’ve forgotten what it feels like to simply be still."

You smiled gently, your hand resting on the edge of the tub. "You’ve always been still in your own way," you said quietly. "Even in the chaos. You just don’t notice it."

Silco’s lips twitched slightly, his sharp gaze turning to you with something softer behind it. "I think you’ve always known how to calm me," he admitted, his voice a little raspier, a touch of sincerity in it. "It’s an odd thing, isn’t it? You make me feel like I could breathe for the first time in years."

The classical music played on, its soft strings almost like a lullaby now, filling the room with an air of serenity. Silco shifted again, sitting a little closer, his gaze never leaving you. "Perhaps we should make moments like this a regular occurrence," he said, his voice softer than it had been when he entered. "I’m beginning to understand their value."

You nodded, a sense of contentment settling over you as you gazed at him. "I’d like that," you said softly. "A little stillness every now and then... it’s something we both deserve."

Silco’s lips parted just slightly, a rare, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You always know just what to say."

You chuckled lightly, the sound of it warm and carefree, before sinking deeper into the tub, letting the water soothe you further. "I’ve had practice."

As the minutes passed, the two of you remained in your quiet corner of the world, the flickering candles, soft music, and your peaceful conversation surrounding you both. It was a fleeting moment of calm, but in that moment, nothing else seemed to matter.

POWDER/JINX (PLATONIC!)

Jinx sat in the bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror with a deep scowl etched across her face. Her once vibrant blue hair, now a tangled mess, fell around her shoulders in wild strands. She held the brush in her hands, staring at it as if it might magically fix the knots in her hair. She gave it another try, attempting to work through the tangles, but each tug only seemed to make things worse. Frustration built up in her chest as she gritted her teeth, her hands trembling slightly from the effort. The more she tried, the more helpless she felt, and soon enough, she simply gave up, slumping back against the chair, her eyes narrowed in frustration as she stared at her reflection.

"Ugh, stupid hair!" she muttered under her breath, glaring at the brush like it had personally wronged her. She groaned loudly and dropped it onto the floor, arms crossing over her chest in defeat. “Why does it have to be so damn complicated?”

Her blue locks now lay in a chaotic heap around her, making her look even more disheveled than usual. Jinx sighed deeply and kicked the sink cupboard in irritation, eyes dropping to the scattered hairbrushes and combs in front of her.

As she sat there, wallowing in frustration, she didn't hear the soft knock on her door.

"Jinx?" came a gentle voice, warm and familiar.

Jinx’s head shot up, her eyes brightening for a second before she wiped her expression clean of irritation. "Oh, uh... come in!" she called out, trying to sound like everything was fine, though her frustration still lingered in her tone.

The door creaked open, and there you stood in the doorway, peeking inside with a gentle smile. Your eyes immediately locked onto her tangled mess of hair. “I heard some pretty dramatic groaning from in here,” you said, stepping into the room and raising an eyebrow. “What’s going on, kiddo?”

Jinx slumped back into her chair, groaning again. "This stupid hair... I washed it, but now it’s all knotted and I can’t get it to brush out. It’s like it hates me."

You smiled softly at her, walking over to kneel beside her. You ran your fingers through the strands, noting how thick and soft her hair was, despite the tangles. "I see," you said, eyes full of understanding. "That can be a pain. I remember when I used to struggle with that too."

Jinx shot you a skeptical look, but there was a soft curiosity in her eyes now. "You? Struggle with hair?" She raised an eyebrow. "I can’t even imagine you having problems with your hair."

You laughed gently, a quiet, soothing sound that seemed to settle her just a little. “Oh, trust me, it wasn’t always this easy. I had my fair share of knots and tangles when I was growing up. In fact..." You paused, glancing down at the mess of blue hair in front of you. “My mother used to help me when I couldn’t get mine untangled. And let me tell you, she was a master at it. She taught me all the tricks.”

Jinx’s eyes softened slightly at the mention of your mother. You had often spoken of her with fondness, telling stories of the care she took in raising you. For a moment, Jinx felt a pang in her chest—something she hadn’t quite felt before. That warmth, that connection. She’d never had that kind of maternal guidance, but she liked hearing your stories.

"How’d she help you?" Jinx asked, her voice softer than before.

You smiled and gently took the brush from her hand, running it through the strands of her hair with practiced ease. "First, she taught me that you’ve got to be patient with it," you said, your voice calm and comforting. "You can’t rush. You take your time, work through the tangles slowly, and remember to be gentle. Like this."

As you carefully started brushing through the knots, you noticed Jinx’s body slowly relaxing, her posture softening under your gentle care. In the reflection of the mirror, you could see her eyes following your every move. Every now and then, your own gaze flickered to hers in the mirror, catching her watching you with a look that was part curiosity, part trust.

"You’re really good at this," Jinx commented, the tension in her voice melting away as you worked through the last of the knots.

You chuckled softly. “It’s not just about the brushing. You’ve got to keep the hair untangled as you go. Otherwise, it just gets worse. And once you’ve got the tangles out, you can do fun things with it—like braids."

"Braids?" Jinx repeated the word, her eyes lighting up with curiosity. “Like... the cool ones you see in the old books?”

“Exactly,” you said, smiling as you finished brushing her hair. You gently separated the strands into sections and began braiding them, guiding Jinx through each step slowly. "My mom used to tell me stories while she braided my hair. She said that braids could help protect your hair, make it stronger. And she always said braids were a sign of care—when someone takes the time to braid your hair, it means they care about you."

Jinx looked down at your hands, her expression thoughtful. In the mirror, she caught a glimpse of the way your fingers worked through her hair, the gentleness of your touch, and the care in your movements. “I... I think I’d like that. To have my hair done like that. Maybe it’s not so bad, this hair thing.” She shifted in her seat, and you saw the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips in the reflection.

You continued braiding, the room quiet save for the soft classical music filling the space, the gentle rhythm of your hands working with the hair like a lullaby. "You know, my mom also told me that hair carries memories. It’s like every braid, every knot, tells a story,” you said, your voice soft. “It’s funny—now, every time I look at my hair, I can almost hear her telling me stories of when I was little. Things she used to do when I was upset.”

Jinx looked at you through the reflection of the mirror, her fingers absently playing with the edge of her sleeve. “What kind of stories?” she asked, genuinely intrigued.

You smiled and finished the braid, gently running your fingers through it. “Oh, all kinds. She’d tell me about how she’d help her own mother with her hair, and how they’d talk about everything. About life, about what it meant to be strong even when things felt impossible. She’d say that no matter how tough it got, you always had to keep going, because you never know when something beautiful might come out of it.” You paused for a moment, glancing at Jinx in the mirror. "It made me feel like I wasn’t alone. Like, no matter what, she was always there."

Jinx’s eyes seemed to soften, and for a brief second, her usual wild energy was replaced with something quieter, more tender. “I never had that,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I always had to do things myself.”

You smiled at her reflection, brushing a lock of hair away from her face. "You don't have to do everything alone, Jinx. Not anymore."

Jinx blinked, her eyes bright with a mix of emotion she wasn’t sure how to process. But in that moment, the two of you shared something unspoken, a bond of care and understanding that transcended everything else.

The braid, now finished, lay perfectly in her hair, and you gently tugged it, just enough to show it off. “There we go,” you said with a soft smile. “Now you’re ready to take on the world, Powder.”

She looked in the mirror, at her reflection, and a small, genuine smile tugged at her lips for the first time in a long while. “Thanks, Y/N. This... feels nice. Maybe I’ll keep it like this. You know... like how you used to do.”

You smiled back, happy to see that small spark of joy in her eyes. "Anytime, kiddo. Anytime.

[bluzebub19]

hello! can i request viktor or jayce with a reader who has autism and doesnt speak but is good at science?

Writer's note: Hello! Thanks so much for your request! This is like the first request I got and I already started on it. Hope you like it! Any tips with writing are very much appreciated!

Warnings: None, just fluffy stuff. Not proofread.

Pairing/s: Viktor x GN! reader who's autistic and nonverbal but loves science

Platonic Headcanons

● As a mentor or colleague, Viktor respects you a lot. He encourages your work and never underestimates your capabilities, treating you as an equal in every sense.

● He enjoys the calmness you bring to the lab, and he appreciates the efficiency and focus you put into your work

● Viktor is protective in his own way. If anyone tries to belittle or patronize you, he’s quick to step in. He may not be a physical one, but his words are sharp.

● “You mistake silence for weakness. A grave error, I assure you.”

● He takes the time to understand how you prefer to communicate. Whether it’s through notes, gestures, or subtle expressions, he adapts because he doesn't want you to feel self-conscious. A feeling he's very familiar with when he views his body, his disease as a weakness.

● Viktor occasionally shares personal anecdotes from his own life, hoping to make you feel more comfortable around him.

●To him, he finds it refreshing to work with someone who sees the world as he does. You make him feel understood in a way that's rare for him.

Romantic Headcanons

• The platonic headcanons, of course, still applies here.

• Viktor truly admires your dedication and love to science, and he often finds himself fascinated by the way you approach and solve problems. He's intrigued as well by your ability to notice patterns and details others overlook. Your perspective makes him think differently, which is why he values your opinion.

• Viktor is patient and observant. He never pushes you to speak, respecting your methods of communication. Instead, he learns to read your body language, small gestures, or the notes you scribble down to express yourself. Even so, he’s comfortable with your silence and finds it peaceful rather than awkward.

• Viktor’s subtle affection shows in little things: placing a blanket over your shoulders when you were too focused on work and fell asleep on your desk, or saving the last of your favorite snacks for you.

• When he realizes his feelings for you, it’s a quiet epiphany. He isn't one to confess dramatically, he shows his affection through mostly his actions. A touch on your hand, a gentle smile when you accomplish something—he hopes you notice. Though, that's not to say his words aren't beautiful to hear when it rolls of his tongue. He manages to sound like a poet with how he describes his feelings without even saying "I love you." Because to him, those words are an understatement.

• If you reciprocate, Viktor treasures your love like it’s the most precious discovery he’s ever made. He cherishes every small moment with you and continues to support you in every way he can.

[animeshotsh]

Parenting | Viktor x Jayce x Kid!Reader | Arcane ¤

Reader is nicknamed Spark! (I think is pretty gn).

Warnings: PLATONIC - Mentions of trauma - Reader cries - Jayce gets called mom - SFW - Reader is a kid so their speech is not developed - OFF CANON EVENTS -

Now Jayce did think this was not going to be easy.

But how do you explain a kid that no, their parents are not fighting and no, Dad is not leaving forever.

He has no idea.

It started well, just an evening at his house with you and Viktor. Just seeing how all of this would work, and it was going well. Jayce had let you take his bed till they figured something about it. Made dinner and gave you some toys (blue ot course) to play with.

Now, they were not living together yet. It was something that was going to happen eventually but work was always first and honestly? They were used to just stay at each other places. It was like having two homes.

Home is were the peopel you love are.

But now, you are here. And after a long play session Viktor said how he needed to go back home to read some notes for tomorrow's work and also get some clean clothes.

When Jayce asked him to stay since it was too late Viktor just scoffed and told him it was fine. Nothing would happen.

Yes, his tone was a bit cold but he was tired, Jayce did not take it at heart but you....

"Dad...leaving?" You asked in your hand a odd plush Jayce had decided to get you.

"Yes, i need to go home" Viktor have said without thinking much.

Then he hear it, the slow but raising cries.

"Nono! Dad not leave" You said going to him and hugging his leg. "Mom need dad!"

Viktor felt his world go upside down, he had seen kids cries but never once he had a situation like this one.

"Now now Spark, Dad is not leaving forever" Jayce said taking you to put you at eye level with Viktor ending in you hugging now Viktor's neck.

"He is going to go and get something, you will see him again tomorrow" Jayce tried to explain pulling you away from Viktor but you just hugged him more.

"NO!! Dad stay" its was a scream now and a demand. You were looking at Viktor like he was your world.

"I cant little Spark" Viktor said softly pulling you away but taking you from Jayce arms. "Dad needs to get work done"

"N-no!! I will be good, i dont bother. Im good" you said between sobs. That was an indicator that something had happened in your past for you to react this way and it made Viktor's soul shatter.

"Listen, how about we play some more and then sleep?" He tried this time

"You stay?" You asked and Viktor looked at Jayce for help who was very much lost in all of this.

"I will stay, I promise" Viktor agreed kissing your head.

~~~~~~~~~

Once you were finally asleep Viktor and Jayce let themselfs fall on the livingroom, both mentally tired.

"I told you this was not going to be easy" Viktor said checking the hour then letting out a displeased sound "And now is too dam late"

"Hey, we can pass for your notes tomorrow morning" Jayce tried to calm down his boyfriend. "Besides this may be a sign" He added getting a look from Viktor.

"I mean-" Jayce started blushing "We did say we were going to move together and now with our little Spark..." Jayce said getting quiet when Viktor did not respond

"Well, I believe its true. And now we know how big the place needs to be" Viktor finally said. "We need four rooms, one for us, one for (Y/N), one for our lab at home and one for...storage" Viktor counted with his fingers then looked at Jayce. "Maybe keep one of hour homes too, since we do have lots ot things, and i would prefer to get dangerous things away from (Y/N)"

"So....yeah thats seems to be right" Jayce said thinking "It will cost...a lot" he added getting a nod from Viktor.

"Yes it will, but its not like we are short on it" He added

"Then its decided! I will start to look tomorrow right away, do you think we should get a garden? Or backyard? Would Spark like it?" Jayce asked more and more ecxited and imagining you running around.

"Just...lets start looking at a four room house, we will see about details" Viktor finally said calming Jayce down.

"Mom? Dad?" A sleepy you appeared making them look in worry

"Nightmare?" Jayce asked getting up as you nodded

"Come here little Spark, lets get you back to bed, mom will read you a story"

"Can Dad come too?" You asked looking at Viktor who despite being tired as hell got up with his cane.

"Of course, how does Introduction to Physics sound?" Viktor joked as you quickly moved your head saying no.

"No! I hate that one"

"A shame, its fine literature" Viktor responded getting a laught from Jayce.

[x-reader-things]

Binge watched Arcane recently so guess who added some characters to the request list 👁🍵👁

Make sure to read all the rules and look at the prompt lists if need be-

[verybadatwriting]

I'll admit, I was a Goody Two Shoes so my parents never had to show up to the principal's office, but I love fics where that happens!

Sandbox Fight

Warnings: slight cursing, mentions of small fights, arguments, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Hargreeves siblings x niece reader, Diego Hargreeves x daughter reader

Request: Hello!! Could I please request a Diego Hargreeves x child!reader (around 10 maybe) where she gets into a fight at school but Diego isn't available so all his siblings take his place when they go to the school to talk about it, but eventually he comes and just walks in and sees all his siblings and is like: wtf.

Request by: @your-local-lover

*not my gif*

Summary: Your father was unavailable, but you needed someone. How about a lot of someone’s? Like all your favorite uncles and aunt?

A/N: This one was fun to write

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

“She did not!” Klaus gasped dramatically, as if gossiping, into the old fashioned phone, putting a hand over his mouth for good measure.

“What’s going on?” Allison asked, walking into the kitchen and looking around in confusion.

Viktor was sitting at the table with his head in his hand, using his other one to drum his fingers across the wood of the tabletop and glancing up at Klaus every once in a while. And Luther sat across from him, eating a sandwich.

The blonde haired man shrugged, taking another bite of his food as Klaus shushed all three of them.

“Don’t you worry,” He continued to speak to the person on the other side of the call, “I will be there right away.”

With that he hung up.

Barely a second later he started giggling into the hand that he put over his mouth.

Five walked in and rolled his eyes slightly, “What’s got you grinning like an idiot, over there?”

“I-“ The man giggled again, “I just got a call from Y/n’s principal saying that her parent or guardian needs to go to the school right away because n/n got into a fight!”

Everybody’s jaws dropped, “N/n got into a fight?” Luther asked in shock, unable to picture you fighting anybody.

Only for the fact that your father threatened to ground you for life if you ever did again, not because he didn’t think you wouldn’t gladly get into a fight. You were your fathers daughter after all. Diego was always up for a fight, and you didn’t take his threats lightly, especially since you were only ten years old and in a phase where you took everything said to you very literally.

“But Diego’s out of town for the day.” Allison frowned.

“I know!” Klaus exclaimed happily, “That’s why I’m going in his place!”

“Are we sure that’s the best idea?” Viktor gave him a meaningful look.

He just moved his hand, as if waving off the idea, “Oh, yes, everything is going to be splendid.”

Allison’s hand shot in the air, “Am I the only one who feels like we need to stop that?”

“How about we all go?” Five suggested, rubbing his temples to ward off an oncoming headache.

Viktor shrugged in return and Allison nodded.

Klaus clapped his hands together, “Ooh, wonderful! Let’s go right away!”

“Wait guys!” Luther shouted, mouth full as he tried to stuff down the last of his sandwich while watching his siblings leave the room.

Right before exiting the house, Klaus made sure to leave a message- in very messy handwriting- on a paper near the door telling Diego to go to your school ASAP once he got back.

The ten minute car ride over was filled with screaming, fighting over control of the aux, Five almost getting pulled over for speeding, and Ben appearing and then wishing that he hadn’t.

After parking, everybody filed- more like stumbled- out of the car and in through the doors of the main office, their speaking volume nearly giving the elementary school receptionist a heart attack.

Five had been the one to calmly step forward and tell her that they were here for you- your aunt and uncles- and she had been too busy pointing a shaky finger at the waiting area to even question the clear differences between all of them.

After about five minutes of Ben and Klaus arguing over a seat, Luther falling asleep in his own, Five reading a discarded newspaper, and Allison and Viktor looking like they wanted to be with anyone but them, the principal's office door opened and they were all beckoned in.

They quickly piled in, quickly taking in the sight of you sitting in a chair facing the principals large desk, with a small girl and her parents a couple feet away.

As soon as your uncles and aunt filled the room, you looked up with a large grin, jumping into Viktors arms, “Vicky!” You cheered, hugging him tight.

Your principal was quick to clear his throat obnoxiously before your uncle could even hug back, “Ms. Hargreeves, that is no way to behave.” His scolding was very unnecessary in the eyes of your relatives.

He clearly hadn’t been expecting all these people, because there were only two chairs next to you, which Allison quickly sat down in, and Klaus pushed Luther out of the way to sit in the other.

“Which one of you are her parents?” He asked quite rudely with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, that would be none of us.” Five spoke up from the wall he was leaning against, eyes narrowing, “We are her uncles and aunt, her father couldn’t make it at the moment.”

The principal's eyes quickly cast down to his desk, uncomfortable, “I see.”

The other girl's mom, who’s whole family had been yet to say anything, finally spoke up, “I believe we should get started?” Her words were a question, but her tone was a demand.

“Yes, very well.” He said, sitting up straighter and adjusting his tie, “As you had been informed earlier, Y/n started a fight today at recess.”

“Wait,” Allison said, holding up a hand and raising an eyebrow, “She started the fight?” She found that hard to believe.

After Diego’s threat about being grounded for life, you had been so scared to never eat dessert again that you didn’t even play-fight with Uncle Luther anymore.

The mom was quick to nod, “Oh, yes. She obviously hit my daughter first, and then she only hit back out of self defense.” Her voice was matter-of-fact and snotty.

Five rolled his eyes, “Shocker, your daughter only hit back out of,” he held up air quotes, “‘Self defense’ when Y/n would never start a fight.”

The woman whipped around, nostrils flaring, “Is there something you would like to say to me, young man?” She challenged.

Just as he was about to push off the wall to accept the challenge, Viktor put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down, “Why don’t you tell us what happened, Y/n.”

You finally looked up from your spot where you had been kicking the ground, and watched the reassuring faces of your family as you spoke, avoiding eye contact with the glaring mother and father on the other side of the room.

“Well,” You mumbled sheepishly, “I was just trying to play in the sandbox when she came up to me and told me that it was her sandbox and that if I didn’t get out she would hit me.” You took a deep breath before continuing, “I said no because it was still my turn, but she didn’t like that so she threw sand in my eyes and pushed me. And when I was falling my leg accidently hit her and she fell down too.”

When you finished you had tears in your eyes.

Once your family saw this, it made Allison sit up straighter, Klaus become more serious, Luther’s eyebrows to furrow, Ben to glare at the other girl slightly, Viktor to reach out and rub your back comfortingly, and for Five's fists to clench.

The principal studied you for a moment before slowly turning to look at the other little girl, “Is that what happened?”

At first she shook her head, but then you glared at her and snapped, “You get into more trouble if you lie about it then if you tell the truth.” Something your dad used to say to you when you would deny eating the last cookie after he told you not to.

Her eyes widened, and then the tears began flooding out of her eyes.

She let out a sob as they continued cascading down her cheeks like a waterfall and she hiccuped a couple times before saying, “It’s true! I did do that!”

Her parents' eyes widened as they looked down at her and their mouths opened and closed like fish.

From behind you, all your uncles and aunt adopted smug looks.

“W-well she should have just gotten out of the sandbox!” Her mom stuttered out, standing up and pointing at you accusingly.

Then all hell broke loose.

That was the last straw for your family.

Allison stood up immediately and started a yelling match with the other mom, each one of them getting louder every time sound came out of their mouth.

The dad started glaring at you and Luther immediately moved in front of you to block his view of you, Five following close behind.

Both of them began snapping at the man, telling him off and giving him a good scolding.

The little girl, who was still crying, had started to bawl even harder and Klaus came up next to her and started telling her about the time he lied and his nose grew.

He didn’t exactly tell her that it didn’t actually happen to him, he was just talking about the old movie, Pinocchio.

Even though nobody could see him, Ben was glaring at the principal, who looked around nervously, as if he could feel someone watching him.

Just then, the door opened, but nobody seemed to notice, even you were too busy watching everything else going on around you.

“What the-“ Diego asked, stopping short when all the chaos in the room immediately shut off as everyone noticed his presence.

“Oh!” Klaus looked delighted as he turned around, “Did you get my note?”

“Yeah, I got the note.” The man said, eyebrows furrowed in both confusion and concern.

“Daddy!” You cheered, hopping out of your chair and running into his arms.

This time, the principal was too afraid to scold you.

After that, Allison had flipped her hair over her shoulder dramatically and taken you out of Diego’s arms, strutting out of the room, the rest of your family quickly following.

It was safe to say that the principal or that girl never seemed to have a problem with you again after that. Your family just seemed to scare them too much. You honestly had no idea why.

Even better though, you weren’t even grounded for getting into a fight, Uncle Klaus then used that as an excuse to take everybody out to ice cream. With Five buying, of course.

The Hargreeves 🦹- @lovanitu @your-local-questioning-agender @jvdethirlwall @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @mukbee