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honey-tongued-devil · 9 months ago

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▶[Arcane preference] reacting to you wearing their clothes [Jayce, Viktor, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Mel, Sevika, ]

If you know me, hello little deers, I'm back! If you don’t know me, welcome! Just a heads-up that I don’t use "Y/N," but rather the impersonal "you," and even though I talk about clothes, no sizes or weight are involved. Enjoy the read!

Jayce:

- It’s not that rare when you’re together; he’s a real gentleman through and through. If it’s cold, he’ll give you his jacket, his scarf, anything to keep you warm

- But when you’re the one taking his clothes, it’s different

- When he sees you walking around the room in his shirt, just after waking up, something in his brain malfunctions

- It’s how it fits you, no matter how big or long it is, it seems like it was made just for you, to give you that look

- And to him, it feels like some kind of subliminal ad, as if the universe is making you so attractive in the simplicity of that gesture just to tell him he needs to hurry up and put a ring on your finger so he can enjoy that sight every day

- It’s hard for you to get anything done in the morning when he wakes up with those thoughts

- Those are the days when you stay in bed, cuddling under the covers, with him looking at you, hand on his cheek, getting more lost in you by the second

Viktor:

- For Viktor, the idea of a “little thief stealing his clothes” is an interesting one

- He’s never been a fan of tight-fitting clothes, plus, with his physique, it’s rare for anything to fit snugly anyway

- That’s why, except for his Academy uniform, the rest of his clothes are comfortable and at least two sizes too big for him, without mentioning Jayce's oversize ones in his closet

- What Viktor didn’t expect was that, once you started liking them, you’d just take them straight out of his drawer

- The first time he knocked on your door to ask if you’d seen his shirt —the very one you were wearing— he first stopped, confused, wondering how it had ended up on you

- And then, though he didn’t show it, he paused to notice with satisfaction how well it wrapped around your body

- Sometimes he pretends to forget his clothes at your place, just to see them on you, and to get them back with your scent on them

- For the nights when he feels lonelier

Ekko:

- Communism

- There’s not really a strong sense of what belongs to whom at the Tree, although some clothes (jackets in particular) eventually get so personalized that no one dares to take them anymore

- The first time you grabbed Ekko’s jacket, it was simply because you were freezing, it was really cold, and he was resting, so he didn’t need it

- But when he saw you wearing it, his pupils dilated so much you could notice it despite his very dark eyes

- Ever since then, it’s him who gives it to you and insists that you wear it, because he likes it: there’s something extremely intimate and deeply personal about walking around with you in his jacket

- It’s like marking you as his, but really, also reminding himself of it

- And Ekko may be proud, but one thing you quickly and painfully learn in the alleys is to say ‘I love you’ before it’s too late, and that small possessive gesture makes him feel fulfilled because it’s like he’s telling everyone that he couldn’t live without you

Vander:

- Vander’s clothes have this super-secret ability to change depending on who’s wearing them. For example, what are shirts on him turn into dresses on you

- When you put them on, even just for the sake of convenience, you find yourself laughing in front of every mirror you pass by

- And if he notices, he can’t help but hug you from behind, leaning down to rub his nose against your neck, smiling against your skin

- “You know,” he says every single time, “it looks better on you than it does on me,” and no matter how false it might be, in his eyes, it’s truer than almost anything else

- After seeing you a few times in his grown-up man's clothes, he decided to dig through an old box to find the clothes from when he was younger and mend them before leaving them folded on your side of the bed, like a little gift

Silco:

- Silco’s strangest habit was the connection he had with his clothes: they looked like Piltover garments, except for the boots and the shirt under the velvet vest, yet they were torn, poorly mended, and worn out in several places

- Despite being the richest man in the undercity, he never changed them

- The only newer piece in his wardrobe that he used to wear was his coat, which was in perfect condition, scented with cologne, and lined with soft velvet that followed the direction of your fingers when you touched it

- Sure, there were ceremonial outfits, pajamas, and something comfortable yet always elegant, but he had worn them so little that they almost didn’t seem like his

- That’s why one day you simply decided you were bored, and while he was in a meeting, you could take the opportunity to try on the ones that fit you

- But that little fashion show from his wardrobe to the mirror probably took longer than expected, and definitely you were too focused, because you didn’t notice the tall figure watching you, leaning against the doorframe

- “Don’t take that off, I’ve got an idea or two,” his voice broke the silence, making you jump

Jinx:

- Her clothes are more like a flea market than a wardrobe: there are men’s clothes, women’s clothes, from Piltover and Zaun, intact, held together by metal staples, clean, splattered with paint, torn from explosions, some so small you wonder who they could even fit, and some so large that you and at least four of her father’s henchmen could comfortably fit in them with room to spare

- She’s the one who tells you to grab something from the pile the first time you ask to help her with her calculations and experiments, and in the end, you choose something comfortable rather than something intact or clean

- It took her a good half hour to notice, and then another hour to stop talking about it

- It was something she hadn’t done since she had a family, sharing clothes with someone else, and suddenly she realized just how much she missed it

- Every now and then, she’d give you oversized shirts on purpose, just to disappear under the fabric and snuggle up to you, where she felt sheltered enough to feel less vulnerable

Vi:

- Vi’s mentality was interesting because, by accident, if she noticed you were eyeing someone’s clothes with interest, somehow the next day those clothes would end up on your bed

- Vi would do anything for you; if it were up to her, you’d be dressed in pearls and gold, but neither the place nor her situation allowed it

- That’s why she never offered you her clothes: the older ones were tattered, barely definable as rags, which she stubbornly patched up every month

- The new ones were stolen, spoils from street fights, but they always came in looking battered and worn, or worse, stained with blood or strange substances, so they weren’t good for you

- When she saw you wearing a sweater from her wardrobe, stained and burned in spots, the first thing she felt was guilt

- She hated not being able to treat you the way she wanted to

- But from that day on, she made sure to at least wash her clothes before putting them away, and slowly she learned to love the clothes you stole a little more than the others

- That sweater, for example, she would defend it with her life

Caitlyn:

- Whenever you stayed over at her place, she always made sure to provide everything for you: slippers, socks, pajamas, anything you might need

- And it was always the highest quality you had ever seen

- So seeing you in her clothes wasn’t new, although she sometimes liked to have you try on things she didn’t wear anymore, partly because she couldn’t due to her important name, and partly because she spent half her time in uniform

- Those little fashion shows almost always ended with her on top of you, while you are very busy figuring out how to stay quiet so none of the servants, or worse, her parents, would catch you

- It didn’t matter if the clothes didn’t suit you, being able to see you in so many different lights made her fall even more in love with everything about you

- The final blow? One day she decided to look through the enforcers’ uniforms to find one that would fit you, and for the first time, she saw you in clothes that matched hers

- There was something about it that made her hope that uniform would change the chemistry of your brain too and make you join the force, just so she could spend more time with you, just so she could see you like that more often

Mel:

- For Mel, it wasn’t an event: she was used to everything, mastering her emotions, and seeing you wearing something of hers had only left her confused for a second, from which she quickly recovered, smiling at you

- “It looks really good on you, you know?” she had asked

- It didn’t bother her. Objectively, you seemed stupid borrowing those elegant clothes tailored exactly to her body

- It almost felt like heresy to wear the clothes of a goddess-like figure. But the goddess had sensed something, and she began buying and commissioning outfits for both you and her, matching, so you wouldn’t feel like you were missing something

- But there was one moment, a specific one, where seeing you in one of her dresses had left her speechless

- When you told her that the sweater was so beautiful it was almost a shame knowing she couldn’t wear it on the day you’d marry her

- And Mel Medarda came from a land of war, where it was hard to get attached to people, let alone objects

- Yet from that day, that piece of clothing became a constant for her, even if it meant layering or pulling it down to keep her shoulders bare

- Because it no longer just warmed her skin; it began to warm something deeper, something she hadn’t even realized she had

Sevika:

- Her clothes reflected her line of work: dirty, unpleasant, dangerous

- But despite that, she would drape them over you herself, no matter how worn they were: if she thought you might be cold, without a word, you’d find a sweater or hoodie on your shoulders

- And even though she’d glance at you from the corner of her eye, she wouldn’t stop watching you for a single moment when you wore something of hers

- It was a matter of homeland—there was no ownership in Zaun, not even last names, as even the family you belonged to was irrelevant compared to what you could do

- And the gangs, thugs, and troublemakers wouldn’t hesitate to steal what was yours

- But you were hers, and you couldn’t be stolen. And that shirt was hers, but she didn’t feel mutilated, like she normally would, when you wore it

- In fact, she loved it, opening her arms to invite you to snuggle up, holding you carefully so the prosthetic wouldn’t bother you, adjusting the clothing on you ten, a hundred times, almost unconsciously

- And when you wore her clothes, it felt like for a little while, you could wear her skin too, to understand her better, and she suddenly seemed more vulnerable

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sleepyangelkami · 9 months ago

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more vi plss!! (and reader is a pillow princess)

SAY IT .vi

𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 1.5K

VI (ARCANE) X FEM!READER

𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - vi calls you exactly what you are, a pillow princess and in efforts to prove her wrong, you only end up proving her right. but that's fine, because that was all she wanted.

𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - smut, dom!vi, sub!reader, pillow princess!reader, fingering (r.receiving), praise kink, dumbification, dirty talk, alternate universe, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

it started off as a joke.

a simple joke that left your girlfriends lips. you'd been laying on your stomach across the sitting room sofa, words mindlessly falling from both your lips as you flipped through a magazine. she sat man-spreading across the arm chair, controller in hand. you always said she loved her video games more than you, but she'd always deny.

then you heard it, the joke spewing from her lips with a smirk on her face. "yeah, okay, pillow princess."

instantly, your head snapped up from your magazine. your glittery pen that you'd been circling clothing with dropped from your pretty fingers. "i'm not a pillow princess."

vi seemed to sense your distress. she set the controller down as the game conveniently ended. "well, i'm not saying there's anything wrong with it." she leaned back against the armchair, resting her hands behind her head. "i love that you're a pillow princess, believe me."

you wouldn't believe how many times she'd gotten off just by thinking about it. you were so good for her, so responsive. she hardly had to touch you and you were falling apart. sure, she loved watching your head between her thighs as you whimpered into her but there was nothing more she loved than watching you, hearing you. all of it.

you seemed butt hurt by the joke.

but vi swiftly changed the conversation, noticing the furrow of your brow.

vi knew how sensitive you were, how easily you took everything to heart and she didn't want you over thinking this. and her tactics proved right, by five minutes later you were showing her a pretty top you'd spotted on the coloured pages.

you didn't think much of it at first. in fact, for the next while, you didn't think of it at all.

perhaps you had too much in your head to contain so much information, you told vi that was why you talked so much.

it wasn't until vi had you pinned down against the bed, making out with you, that the moment popped into your head again.

you almost shut it out on accident, then it clicked. vi was kissing you deeply, her hands dragged at your hips, pulling and kneading the skin while you passed heavy breaths through your lips, kissing her back just as hard.

and suddenly, you had this urge to prove her wrong.

vi felt you shift, letting you take the lead.

she felt you turn you both over, you landed in her lap and suddenly, she was the one against the bed. her brows shifted in amusement. "what's this, baby?"

you shifted your hair to one side of your head so it didn't get in the way, you weren't really used to things like this. "jus' trying to prove something." you mumbled before reaching down and kissing her lips.

don't get me wrong, vi loved the feeling of you kissing her, whatever way you sat, laid or stood, on top or not. but she couldn't seem to shake the amusement as your mouth left hers, leaving a trail of kisses against her neck. "this have something to do with that joke i made before?"

your lips stopped momentarily at her neck, eyes gazing up. "'m not a pillow princess."

vi didn't understand why you were so adamant about it.

there was no shame in it. on the contrary, she adored it.

"yeah?" her brow cocked and she was looking at you this way that had you nodding, suddenly unable to speak. "y'sure, sweetheart? cause if i remember correctly..." suddenly, you were being flipped over again, beneath her all over again. "you quite like sitting there all pretty 'n taking it."

you could feel her hands trail down past your waist, kneading your thighs in her hands. "v-vi, 'm trying to―" you were cut off by the breath being caught in your throat.

vi's hand had trailed up your skirt, her fingers dancing over your panties. "you're trying to what, sweet girl?" you felt her fingers rub against your clothed clit. "c'mon, use your words f'me."

"vi!" you whined, feeling her fingers against you. she wasn't being fair, you were supposed to take charge but how could you think about anything when she was touching you like that?

a soft laugh left the girls lips as she pushed your panties aside, fingers gentle against your swollen bud. "love it when you whine like that."

you could only look up at her with your tinted hot cheeks.

she began to press gentle kisses against the nape of your neck, fingers trailing down to your hole, she rounded her fingers against you, collecting the trail of your slick across her digits. she made a fake gasp noise. "'n look how wet you are already." she couldn't help but smirk. "good girl."

two single words that set you off every time.

a gasp left your lips as she slipped her two fingers inside you at once. you suddenly moaned with pleasure.

vi was like a drug. every time she touched you, you found yourself addicted, begging and chasing for her to praise you. you'd do anything to please her but luckily for you, that meant just sitting there and taking it. you truly did wish you could be less 'responsive' but vi wouldn't take it any other way. her favourite thing to do was turn you dumb with her mere fingers, maybe even her strap.

your eyes fluttered shut in pleasure, feeling her fingers pound against your sopping cunt. "please, vi." you moaned out. "please don't stop."

"yeah? wanna be my good girl again, huh?" nudging your face with her nose, littering kisses on your cheek.

you could only whimper out with a nod. vi had this way of making you feel like you were high on magic. you couldn't help but want her in every way.

"then say it, angel." fingers pumping in and out, embarrassing squelching sounds bounced off each wall of the bedroom. "say you're my pillow princess."

she was met with a mere whine of dissatisfaction from you.

she feigned sympathy with a coo. "awh, i know, baby. my poor girl, jus' so mean, aren't I?" but the girl didn't care much for your whining and whimpering, she'd get you to say it before you came. "but you gotta say it, yeah? don't want me to stop do you?"

you pursed your lips closed. "mm-mm. please don't stop." you practically panted out, you could almost feel frustration build in your water line. "nnghh― please, vi!"

"four words." is all she whispered back, her palm grazed against your clit every time her fingers pounded into your entrance. "know you can say it, pretty girl. jus' need me to make you all dumb, don't you, baby?"

a whimper of her name was the only thing that left your lips, eyes screwing shut.

"close, sweetheart? 's now or never, baby. say it or i'll stop."

the feeling was knotting in your stomach, ready to unravel. you didn't want to but you knew better than to cum without following orders.

so you forced the damned sentence to pass your lips. "'m your pillow princess."

and a coo only fell from the magenta haired girl. "awh, know you are, sweet girl. see? my good girl always listens, doesn't she? huh?" vi tended to ask you questions while knuckles deep in your pussy, she knew you couldn't utter a single word. "you jus' need me to make your poor pussy feel all good, don't you?"

a breathless, "uh-huh." was her answer. "'m close!"

"yeah? gonna be good f'me 'n say please?" of course, vi had to make you beg for it.

"please!" you practically squeaked out as your back arched against the bed.

a chuckle left her lips. "you can do better than that."

and you really, definitely could. but vi had made you all dumb, exactly her plan. "please let me cum, vi. please, need it so bad. please." you repeated the word please in little whispers, unable to hold back the knot in your stomach.

"you're such a good girl, 'course you can cum, baby." she felt your spongy walls suddenly tighten around her fingers. "that's it, sweetheart, cum all over vi's fingers, 's a good girl."

vi pumped her fingers in and out of you, letting you ride out your high like she always did until you were squirming away from her.

she leaned against the bed with a self-loving smirk on her face, hardly glancing your way. you laid next to her, chest falling and rising as you panted out breaths. a beat of silence passed until you spoke up. "vi?" turning your head to her.

"yes, my pillow princess?" she teased.

instantly, a frown fell on your face as you crossed your arms over your chest. she wasn't being fair. "i was gonna say something, now i'm not speaking to you."

"oh, come on." she lifted your face by her thumb to make you look at her again. "no pouting or else i'll have to shut you up all over again."

an idea suddenly fell flat on your head.

your pout deepened.

vi only climbed over you with the smuggest of smirks on her face. "you dirty little slut."

main masterlist/vi's masterlist

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galactic-magick · 7 months ago

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The Handsome Assistant: Viktor x Reader

Summary: You keep running into the handsome Dean's assistant, whom you find you have a lot in common with. You develop quite the crush, and things get a little messy when your friends find out about him.

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: some implied suggestive stuff, alcohol use

Author's Notes: Set before Season 1 Act 1. Just a warning, this is probably the most heavily self-indulgent of my Viktor fics so far. I’ve had ideas bouncing around my head for a long time about who I’d be if I lived in the Arcane universe, and I eventually just ended up taking inspiration from what I do in real life. So basically Reader works in human services and is similar to a social worker. I tried my best to write it in a way that makes sense even if you’re not familiar with that field.

Also, the roommate/friend characters are based on my besties irl, one of which is also my beloved tumblr mutual @ohboi , who has been dealing with my nonstop Viktor obsession for a long ass time now so shout-out to them lol. I wrote you living your dream in this fic as a way to apologize <3

It’s exhausting dealing with the powers of topside. There’s no sense of urgency here, no drive for real progress. You’ve attended meeting after meeting, maintaining composure every time they tell you your mission isn’t a priority, or that it will take decades to implement.

All you want is to help the struggling children in the Undercity. It’s what you’ve dedicated your life to, studying human services and psychology at the Academy and building your own grassroots group with a few others from your graduating class. You primarily advocate for better education, as the schools down there barely get any funding. The council doesn’t want to hear it, though, as it’s much easier to forget about the citizens below their feet.

It frustrates you beyond belief, especially since the first chunk of your life was spent in the Undercity. You lived the stark contrast between the two cities yourself, being granted countless more opportunities once your family moved to Piltover. It was sickening, and you felt so guilty with your new privileges when your friends back home still had none. But without those privileges, you wouldn’t have been able to attend the Academy and give back.

You resist the strong urge to scream after another failed proposal with the council. You prepared all of your points for weeks, fact-checking everything and making sure your ideas were plausible. The budget and statistics you wrote out projected exponential progress for both cities, as focusing on the new generation of Zaunites would encourage the next great minds and likely lead to collaboration on mutual issues. But of course, the council is not ready to contemplate such a future.

There was one factor that wasn’t usually there, though, a handsome young man sitting beside Professor Heimerdinger. He was furiously taking notes the entire meeting, looking back down at his journal anytime you made eye contact with him. Out of all the councilors, Heimerdinger seemed the most open to your ideas, but without a majority agreeing to cast a vote to actually change policy, nothing would happen.

You walk back down the long hallway, noticing someone in your peripheral vision.

“I’m sorry the council remains so stuck in their ways,” he says. “Trust me, I understand how hard it is to hold back your anger towards them.”

You turn your head, seeing the young man from earlier, “Who are you?”

“Viktor. I’m assistant to the Dean of the Academy,” he replies, leaning on a cane. “I quite liked your ideas. I think they could work.”

“I know they would work.”

You sigh, quickly realizing you’re projecting your feelings onto this stranger.

“Sorry,” you correct yourself. “I just don’t understand how they can just not care about the suffering down there. I’m from the Undercity, I’ve seen what’s happening there firsthand, and it’s only getting worse.”

Viktor’s eyes widen a bit, “I’m from the Undercity, too.”

“You’re from the Undercity and you’re the personal assistant to Heimerdinger?” you question, a bit shocked at the prospect.

“It’s really not that big of a deal, but yes.”

“What do you mean, not a big deal? I’ve never even met anyone else from the Undercity who got into the Academy.”

“I suppose we are a rare breed,” he says. “I imagine I never saw you there due to our differences in studies.”

“Most likely,” you shrug. “None of my classes were in the science halls, assuming that’s where you were.”

He smirks, “What makes you assume I studied science?”

“You just have that look about you.”

He laughs, “Well, you’re right. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised someone well-versed in analyzing humanity read me so quickly.”

“Don’t worry, you’re still mostly a mystery to me. I can’t read minds or anything,” you flash him a genuine smile.

There’s a beat of silence before he speaks again.

“I need to get back to my lab, but I do hope we cross paths again. I’ll certainly discuss your proposals more with Heimerdinger as well.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

He leaves in the opposite direction, his cane tapping the floor.

What an interesting twist of fate, meeting someone like you.

The second time you run into Viktor is at an Academy party a couple months later, something you both likely would’ve skipped if you could. It’s somewhat a recruiting event for new students, and several alumni were asked to represent their fields of study. It’s not that you mind talking with prospective students, but you know you’ll have to hold back a lot of your true opinions when doing so. If you go off about how the curriculum doesn’t cover enough about the issues in the Undercity, you’ll surely get a reprimand from your former professors. You could lose several connections and investors in your organization as well, something you’re not willing to risk. Instead, you keep a smile on your face, engaging in conversation politely and answering questions.

You notice Viktor sitting at one of the far tables, his eyes darting around the room. He has several contraptions set up, and occasionally people come up to ask him about them. He lights up when he speaks, his face making the cutest expressions.

You notice yourself staring, quickly turning your head towards something else.

That sconce on the wall looks nice, doesn’t it?

As the event slows down and the crowd shuffles out, you pack up your things and head to the door, glancing back at Viktor’s table for a moment. He’s looking right back at you, and your heels swivel promptly to go see him.

“Hey,” you say, shooting him a smile. “Nice to see you again.”

Shit, was he this handsome the first time you met him?

“You as well,” he nods, gathering up his own things scattered in front of him. “Did you find anyone to join your program?”

“A few, yeah. You?”

“Several. More than I expected.”

He huffs, soon realizing all of his tech and science displays were not going to fit in the one cart that was left.

“I can help you carry your stuff, the science wing isn’t that far from here, right?” you offer, shifting your things under one arm and grabbing some of his things with the other.

“You don’t have to do that,” he protests, but you’re already propping open the door and gesturing him to come along with a head tilt.

“I really don’t mind. Come on.”

You help him put things away in the different classrooms and offices, careful not to break anything. You’ve never been in this side of the school before, and it’s set up quite differently than the usual classrooms you were in. There’s much more going on than a usual lecture hall, tools and chemicals you don’t dare touch lining the perimeter. Viktor thanks you for your assistance as you finish getting everything in place, and you once again prepare to go your separate ways.

“Wait—” he says before you leave, pulling out his journal and flipping through it. “I wrote down a lot more notes that might be helpful for your project, I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

He hands over the open page for you to read, and your jaw drops. It’s so detailed, every proposal you had broken down to its smallest pieces. He even laid out the budget and resource use and everything it would take to not only build and fund better schools in the Undercity, but also work on housing and overall infrastructure. He even has some theories scribbled on how to keep the air cleaner and fix problems with the fissures.

You can’t believe he’s been thinking about you and everything you said for all this time since you last met.

“Viktor, this is amazing.”

“I know it still may not convince the entire council, but I found your ideas quite inspiring. I hope my calculations can be informative.”

“They certainly are,” your fingers hover over the written words and numbers. “Thank you, Viktor.”

“Of course,” he grins. “I look forward to seeing what you accomplish.”

You find yourself running into him a lot more often after that, “accidentally” walking by each other’s offices at least once a week and talking long beyond what you probably should while working. Your soul feels so in tune with his, a phenomenon that surely shouldn’t be happening with someone you haven’t known very long.

Your conversations quickly progress to topics non-work related, his curiosity blooming with every little thing you share with him. Most days after work you simply can’t stop talking to each other, causing you to get home later and later until your roommates start to get nosy.

“I really have to go, Viktor,” you laugh, glancing at the clock that reads three whole hours past the end of your shift. You’ve been chatting about embarrassing Academy stories, reminiscing on both the stark similarities and differences between your experiences.

His eyebrows raise. “Shit, is it really that late?”

“Yeah,” you grab your bag with a sigh. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

“You already work too much overtime as it is! What’s so important that you have to stay late every single day?” one of your roommates, Eli, probes, clearly unsatisfied with the half-truth answers you’ve given so far. You don’t really want to tell the full truth just yet, that you’ve been talking with the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen, and you don’t experience the passage of time whatsoever when you’re around him. That would sound ridiculous, especially since absolutely nothing will ever come of it. He’s a wonderful colleague, but you’d be foolish to ever expect anything more.

“There’s just a lot to do,” you finally say.

“You need a break, that’s what you need to do,” they emphasize. “How about we go down to The Last Drop tomorrow night? It’s been a while since we’ve seen our friends down there.”

You nod, “Alright, I’ll try not to stay late tomorrow.”

“You better not.”

They glare at you jokingly, and you let out a laugh and exhale of relief.

You finish up your notes for the day, whipping your head back and forth to check if the coast is clear. You know yourself and your own weakness—you certainly won’t get out of here on time if you run into Viktor for even a second.

But of course, like clockwork, his familiar tap on your leg with his cane greets you moments later, your heart fluttering to a discomposing degree. Him coming to see you is a routine now, and despite your promise to your friends you are aching to talk to him. You haven’t had a proper night out in months, why is it so hard to just leave?

If any of your racing thoughts are visible on your features, Viktor certainly picked up on them.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just...long day,” you reply. “But my roommates are taking me out tonight, maybe that will wake me back up.”

“I won’t keep you long, then—”

He’s cut off by Eli calling your name, jaw dropped as they come towards you down the hallway.

“I knew there was something you weren’t telling me!” they chuckle in disbelief. “Working late my ass.”

“I was literally on my way home!”

“I just wanted to come check!”

Your face grows hot. It isn’t abnormal for your roommates to visit you at your job every so often, bringing you important documents you forgot at home or bringing you a treat on your birthday, but under the current circumstances you’re a bit mortified.

They reach out their hand, “I’m Eli, Y/N’s roommate. Who do you think you are?”

“Viktor.” he shakes it, surprisingly not appearing phased by their directness.

“Interesting,” they look him up and down, then turn to you. “So, he’s coming with us, right?”

“Oh, um...I didn’t ask—“

Viktor can’t help but smile at your flustered face.

“If I’m invited, I wouldn’t mind joining.”

“I can’t believe you.”

Mumbling under your breath, you enter The Last Drop. Viktor told you he’d meet you there in about an hour, which thankfully gives you some time for some drinks to numb your nerves.

“Look, I honestly don’t know why you didn’t just tell us about him. He seems like a good one.”

“It’s not like that,” you correct them. “He’s not into me like that. We just work on some projects together, that’s all.”

You order a drink from Vander at the bar, gulping it down a little too quickly.

“That kinda night, eh?” he laughs, pouring you another one before you have to ask.

“Yeah.”

You have a few more drinks and shots with your roommates and old Undercity friends, your mind and body entering such a daze that you almost forget Viktor is meeting you there later. You play games together and get teased about some of your adopted topside ways, and you even get back at Eli by pushing them to talk to Sevika, who they ogle at quite literally every time you come to this bar with them. It’s the kind of night where you can be free and careless, temporarily leaving your problems behind in favor of bad decisions.

You have to do a double take when you finally see Viktor arrive. He’s changed out of his Academy uniform, now dressed much more casually and much more like a Zaunite.

“It seems I’m a little late to the fun,” he observes.

“We’re just starting!” you beam, the drunk giggles taking over you.

“How many have you had?”

“I don’t know, like 7 or 8 maybe,” you shrug.

He lifts his cane against you and steers you away from the bar, shaking his head, “I think you’re done for tonight.”

“Fine,” you roll your eyes. “But not because you told me to, because I don’t want to throw up.”

He stays close to you while you stumble back to your friends’ table, chuckling at the slurred introductions you give him. They all accept him into their games and conversations instantly, and you quickly find out Viktor can handle his liquor a lot better than you. He puts all of them to shame, and they love finally having decent competition.

Your friends all whisper their approval to you throughout the night, even though you’ve repeatedly reminded them that nothing is going on. Although, you’re not really helping your case by zoning out every few minutes on his face.

“You have pretty eyes,” you say, staring until you realize what you just said out loud.

“That’s very kind,” he responds hesitantly. “But I’m sure your vision is a bit...tainted.”

“Alcohol doesn’t change color perception, dumbass.” you retort. “Besides, I’m sobering up a little.”

“Well then,” he smiles. “Thank you.”

You sigh, taking a sip of some water and glancing around the room. The bar is close to closing, and most of your friends have left.

“Have you seen Eli recently? I haven’t seen them in a while.”

He snickers, “You didn’t see them go in the back with Sevika?”

“They what?” you jump out of your seat. “Oh they’d better tell me everything.”

“I’m sure they will,” he laughs. “Do you need someone to walk you home, then?”

“Probably. Who knows how long they’ll be.”

The buzz has worn off quite a bit now, so thankfully you’re not tripping all over nothing and further embarrassing yourself. Viktor’s beautiful glow in the moonlight is more than enough to accomplish that, your gazes prolonging far longer than they should.

“Thank you for coming tonight, it was fun,” you say, fumbling for your apartment key in your pocket. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that, though.”

“Don’t apologize. It was very amusing.”

“Good.” you exhale. “Just ignore anything weird I said, okay?”

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” he smirks. “Now get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Sleep is certainly what you get, and the next morning before work is full of a head-pounding hangover and chaotic conversation. Your roommates Eli and Chanthou can’t stop laughing about everything that happened, and naturally you’re very nosy about the Sevika situation. Eli tells you every little detail of course, giddy and in disbelief that they managed to make-out with her all night.

“So? Are you guys going to get together again?” you ask on the edge of your seat.

“I hope so.”

“Looks like you both got what you wanted last night,” Chanthou adds.

“Guys, he just walked me home. That’s all.” You’re getting a little annoyed with the constant reminders that your little crush is not, in fact, reciprocated.

“You...don’t remember?” she looks at Eli, then cocks her head at you. “About halfway through the night you were all over him. We just assumed you guys finally confessed.”

You didn’t think you drank enough to blackout, but you definitely don’t remember whatever they’re talking about. Besides, if you really were doing that, why didn’t Viktor say something once you were sobered up?

And what, now you have to see him in the office today, having no idea what you said to him?

“Oh, fuck, guys. What exactly did I do?”

“I don’t know what happened after I went back with Sevika, but before I left you were sitting on his lap on the couch and playing with his hair—”

“WHAT?”

“Wow, you really don’t remember, do you?”

You groan, wishing you didn’t have to go in today. You have a couple important meetings though, so you’ll have to power through. You take some painkillers and grab your things, praying for the first time that you can get through the day without seeing Viktor.

Your headache refuses to lessen its throbbing for your entire shift, making the work you usually enjoy completely miserable. You snap at one too many co-workers and find yourself staring at the clock desperately. Why did you agree to drinking on a weeknight again?

Just as you dreaded, you run into Viktor outside, too obviously waiting for you to pretend to ignore him.

“Hey…” you avoid looking into his eyes. “How come you didn’t say anything about what really happened last night?”

“I...wasn’t sure you’d remember,” he confesses. “I suspected you blacked out when you said you didn’t remember seeing Eli leave. And I wasn’t sure you meant what you said anyway.”

“Please, Viktor. Just tell me what I said. All my roommates told me was I couldn’t stop touching you, which I am so sorry about—“

“N-No, don’t be. Everything was consensual, I assure you.” his face flushes. “You just told me you have feelings for me, that’s all. I was going to tell you last night too if you hadn’t said it first.”

Your eyes widen at his words, your heart threatening to leave your chest.

“But it seems you don’t remember, so I can still count this as making the first move, hmm?”

Shivers race down your spine as Viktor leans in, his fingertips grazing your cheek. His lips meet yours softly, your eyes fluttering shut as he presses deeper. His hand remains holding your face when he pulls away, scanning your expression for your reaction.

“I guess the feeling is mutual,” you chuckle, still a bit breathless.

“Quite so, darling.”

More Author's Notes: I have a bad habit of getting drunk around guys I like irl bc I literally can’t handle being around hot people sober so that's the inspiration for that situation lol. Also, a part 2 to this is already in the works, it'll be set during Act 1 and probably parts between 1 and 2.

#viktor arcane x reader #arcane x reader #arcane viktor x reader #viktor x reader #viktor arcane #arcane viktor #arcane

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aspenmissing · 5 months ago

Note

Ik you already made a fic about asexuality, but could you make one about a hyper sexual s/o? Someone who’s honestly scared of asking for too much. Obviously this is during the beginning part of their relationship. (Can be with anyone in the Arcane universe, and doesn’t have to be too explicit). Thank you! 🫶

Ps. I love your work a lot!!

ɴᴏ ʜᴏʟᴅɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴄᴋ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴍᴇʟ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ꜱᴘɪᴄʏ ||

8144 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜱᴘɪᴄᴇ!! ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ, ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ᴏʜʜʜ ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ ᴍᴏᴏɴ! ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴜʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ!! ɪ'ᴍ ɢʟᴀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ!! <3

JAYCE

The laboratory was always where Jayce felt most at home, surrounded by his creations, his tools, and the hum of his latest invention. It was a sanctuary of thought and focus. But tonight, something was different. You, standing in the doorway, your figure framed by the soft light of the lamps, filled the cold space with a warmth he hadn’t realised he craved.

You stood there, hesitating, unsure of what to do. Jayce noticed how your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve, how your eyes flickered nervously towards him but never met his gaze. It had been weeks since the two of you had started spending time together, but there was still something between you — an invisible barrier that neither of you had dared to cross. He could sense it, but the attraction between you was undeniable, stronger than ever.

"Everything alright?" Jayce asked, setting down his wrench and turning towards you, concern flickering across his brow.

You nodded, though your lips trembled slightly. "Yeah, just... been thinking."

"About what?"

You bit your lip, feeling a wave of hesitation crash over you. It wasn’t like you to be so unsure. Jayce had always made you feel safe, but tonight, there was an undeniable pull between you — one you weren’t sure how to handle. You wanted more. More than just the soft kisses, more than just the gentle caresses. But the thought of pushing him away with your desires, with your own need for more, terrified you.

Jayce’s voice broke through the silence, warm and reassuring. "Y/N, if something’s bothering you, you know you can tell me. You’ve never been shy about speaking your mind before."

You swallowed hard, taking a deep breath as your gaze fell to the floor. When you finally looked up, you spoke quietly. "I don’t want to ask for too much... I don’t want to overwhelm you."

Jayce’s expression softened instantly, a mixture of concern and tenderness in his eyes. He stepped closer to you, closing the gap with a slow, deliberate stride. His hand reached out, cupping your cheek gently, lifting your chin so you couldn’t look anywhere but at him. "Y/N," he murmured, his voice husky with warmth and something more, something undeniably intimate. "You don’t have to be afraid to ask. You’re not overwhelming me. Not even close."

Your heart skipped a beat as his words sent a wave of warmth spreading through you, but the anxiety still gnawed at you. "But... what if it’s too much? What if you don’t want it?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

He smiled then, a soft, reassuring smile that made your stomach tighten with anticipation. "Trust me. If I didn’t want this, you’d know. But I want to give you everything you need — every part of me. And if there’s something more, something you want... I’ll be here. Always."

The words settled between you both like a promise, a vow. You took a small step forward, the space between you shrinking with each passing second, your breath coming quicker as you finally allowed yourself to voice the thoughts that had been swirling inside of you for weeks.

"Jayce," you breathed, voice trembling slightly as you closed the distance. "I want... I want to be close to you. In every way. I don’t want to hold back anymore."

Jayce’s breath hitched at your words, the warmth in his eyes deepening into something almost primal. Without another word, he closed the last of the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was nothing like the soft, tentative ones before. This one was heated, desperate, a release of all the pent-up desire that had been building between you both.

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the heat of his body against yours. He deepened the kiss, his lips pressing with urgency, as though he’d been waiting for this moment. His tongue brushed against yours in a gentle but insistent invitation, a slow burn that made you feel every inch of his closeness.

You gasped, pulling back just slightly, your breath coming quick and uneven as you met his gaze. His eyes were darker now, filled with a hunger that made your stomach tighten with need. "Jayce," you whispered again, this time a little louder, more desperate. "I need you."

His hands slid down your sides, his fingers brushing along the curve of your hips, before he gently lifted you, pressing you against the nearest counter. Your pulse raced as his body caged you in, his hands tracing the line of your jaw, his thumb brushing your lower lip with the lightest touch. The contrast between his gentleness and the heat of his desire left you trembling.

"You have me," he murmured against your skin, his voice rough but soft. "Every part of me. And I want all of you, Y/N."

You looked up at him, your heart racing, the uncertainty now replaced by something stronger. "Then show me," you whispered, your voice thick with longing. "Show me how much you want me."

His breath hitched at your words, and without another thought, he pressed himself closer, the heat between you almost unbearable. His lips trailed down your neck, his kisses slow and deliberate, his hands roaming to the small of your back as he pulled you even closer. Every movement was purposeful, as if he wanted to memorise every inch of you, as if he was giving you a piece of himself with each touch.

You arched into him, your hands running through his hair as your body reacted to his touch. The tension, the longing, everything you had been holding back was coming to a head. Jayce’s hands slid under your shirt, his fingers grazing your skin, making you gasp at the fire he ignited in you. He paused, lifting his head to look at you once more, his eyes searching yours for permission, for confirmation that you were ready.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low and strained with desire.

You nodded, your lips curling into a small, shy smile. "I’m sure."

With that, Jayce kissed you again, this time without hesitation, as though he couldn’t wait any longer. The world outside the laboratory disappeared, leaving only the two of you, tangled in each other, exploring, pushing, and finally giving in to the pull that had been growing between you both for so long.

VIKTOR

The dim light in Viktor’s apartment felt soothing, warm, as the soft hum of the machines and whir of his mechanical devices filled the silence. His apartment, with its sleek, metallic edges and subtle elegance, was quiet and unassuming—a space where the two of you had grown closer over time. Yet tonight, there was an air of uncertainty between you both, as if your feelings had become too intense, too confusing.

Viktor was seated in his armchair, his cane resting beside him. He looked at you, his golden eyes soft yet intense, as though he was waiting for something you couldn’t quite name.

You shifted nervously, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. It wasn’t just the physical closeness that made you feel unsure—it was the way your emotions were starting to tangle together. There was an undeniable attraction, but you didn’t know how to voice the raw need that simmered beneath your skin. What if you were asking for too much? What if he didn't feel the same way?

Viktor noticed your hesitation. His sharp mind could see the conflict written across your face. He reached for his cane, lifting it slowly with a soft grunt, and guided it to rest across his lap. Then, his eyes softened even more as he leaned back.

"You seem... distracted, Y/N," Viktor remarked, his voice low and gentle.

You swallowed hard, trying to find the words. "It’s just... I’m not sure how to... ask," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

Viktor raised an eyebrow, a small, knowing smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “You don’t need to ask, you know. Not if it’s something you desire.”

You blushed, unsure if you could meet his gaze. The thought of pushing boundaries scared you, yet something about the way Viktor spoke gave you an odd sense of reassurance. He didn’t push; he didn’t rush. He let you come to him in your own time.

“I... I want more, Viktor,” you said quietly, hands trembling at your sides. "But I don't want to overwhelm you. I don’t want you to think I’m asking for too much. You’ve already done so much for me…”

Viktor’s gaze softened, and there was something in his expression that made your heart race. “Miláčku” he said, his tone firm but not unkind, “if it’s something you want, you don’t need to be afraid. Whatever it is, whatever you need, I will be here—just as you’ve been here for me.” (Darling)

His words, the genuine care in them, loosened the knot in your chest. It was strange, how this brilliant, calculating man could have such a steady, nurturing presence, one that made you feel safe, despite your own doubts.

You took a deep breath and stepped closer to him. “I’ve never really… known how to ask for what I want. I don’t want to seem like… like I’m taking too much,” you confessed, your voice catching.

Viktor smiled, leaning forward slightly, his eyes scanning your face with care. "You’re not asking for too much. Whatever you desire, let me show you how much I’m willing to give. You are more than enough, and I will always want more of you."

The words were a promise, a deep, unwavering vow, and they broke through the wall you’d built around your desires. You could feel your heartbeat thumping in your chest as you took another step forward, your hand reaching out towards him, trembling but determined.

He raised his hand, gently grasping yours, and pulled you onto his lap. The proximity felt electric, the air between you charged with a heat neither of you could ignore. Viktor’s hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin as his lips found yours.

It was soft, tender, as if he was waiting for you to take the lead. And for the first time, you felt no hesitation, no fear of asking for what you wanted. You pulled him closer, the kiss deepening, as his hand trailed along your spine, steady and sure.

His touch was like a steady anchor, grounding you. His lips pressed against yours with increasing intensity, and you felt a rush of heat flood your body. Every part of you yearned for more. You had never felt this way before, never been this close to someone, but there was a comfort in Viktor’s touch that made you feel safe, cherished even.

As the kiss continued, his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer. His fingers brushed the skin of your back, sending a shiver through you. His lips moved to your neck, the soft caress of his breath against your skin making your pulse quicken. You closed your eyes, lost in the feeling, feeling as though time itself had stopped.

He gently tilted your head back, allowing him access to the delicate skin along your throat. His lips were light at first, then more insistent, as though he was waiting for you to make the next move, to tell him what you wanted. His words from earlier echoed in your mind: Whatever you need, I will be here.

You weren’t sure when the words slipped out, but they did. “I want you, Viktor,” you whispered, voice trembling. “I don’t know how to ask… but I want you.”

There was a pause, a moment of stillness, before Viktor lifted his head and met your gaze. His expression was unreadable for a moment, but then his lips curled into a gentle smile. "You have me, miláčku," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Completely."

And that was enough.

Viktor’s hands slid under your shirt, his touch warm and deliberate. The air between you grew heavier, as though the tension in the room could no longer be contained. His lips trailed down to your collarbone, his tongue tracing soft, heated lines against your skin. You gasped softly, every touch igniting a fire within you, but still, you hesitated. This was new—vulnerable—and you weren’t sure if you were ready for it all.

But Viktor didn’t rush you. His fingers paused when they reached the waistband of your trousers, giving you a moment to breathe. His eyes, full of compassion and understanding, met yours, and in that moment, you realised that your fear was nothing compared to the trust you felt in him.

“You control this, Y/N,” Viktor said, his voice quiet yet firm, his hand resting on the small of your back. “When you’re ready, I will follow your lead.”

It was a small thing, a reassurance—but in that moment, it was all you needed. The weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders, and you knew, without a doubt, that Viktor would never make you do something you weren’t ready for.

You leaned in and kissed him again, with more urgency this time. The kiss deepened, and Viktor responded in kind, his hands exploring your body with careful intention. The heat between you was overwhelming, but there was no rush. Everything in its own time.

The evening stretched on, slow and languid, as you both explored each other—not just physically, but emotionally too. It was about trust, about desire, and understanding that, with Viktor, you were free to be everything you were, without hesitation.

JAYVIK

The lab was quiet, the hum of machinery and the soft ticking of the clock filling the room as Y/N sat between him and Jayce on the couch. The soft light from the lamps reflected off the brass and metal details that decorated the room, casting a warm glow over the three of them. The air was thick with unspoken tension, the kind that could only exist when three people were on the verge of something new—something delicate, something that required trust, honesty, and vulnerability.

Y/N shifted nervously, her fingers curling and uncurling around the fabric of her sleeves, the motion almost automatic as she tried to calm the storm of thoughts running through her head. She had been with both Viktor and Jayce separately before, but this was the first time they were all together like this, and the air between them felt charged in a way she hadn’t anticipated. Her body ached with an unfamiliar longing, but it wasn’t just physical. It was more than that. It was a need for connection, for closeness—but she wasn’t sure how to ask for it.

Jayce noticed her fidgeting immediately, his eyes softening with concern. He leaned forward, the muscles of his arms shifting as he placed his hand gently on her knee. “You alright, love?” he asked, his voice warm but steady, the kind of voice that made her feel like everything was going to be okay, even if she didn’t know how to say what was on her mind.

“Yeah,” she muttered, her gaze dropping to her hands in her lap, the words feeling far too small to convey what she was feeling. The knot in her chest grew tighter, the confusion of her emotions almost too much to bear. She felt... hypersexual. A term she had always been a bit reluctant to acknowledge, because it made her feel as though there was something wrong with her. But she couldn’t ignore the need that coursed through her, the desire that seemed to linger in every touch, every glance. It was more than just physical—it was emotional, a craving for attention, for affection, for connection. And she didn’t know how to ask for any of it.

Viktor, ever the keen observer, watched her with that familiar intensity, his usual calm and analytical expression softening as he sensed the turmoil beneath her exterior. “It’s okay if you don’t have the words right now,” he said gently, his voice quieter than usual, carrying an unspoken promise. “We’re here to listen. Whenever you’re ready.”

She swallowed hard, the warmth in his tone offering a sense of reassurance that she hadn’t known she needed. Viktor had always been the more reserved one between the two, but there was a tenderness in his approach now that made her feel safe—made her feel understood, even without words.

“It’s just... I don’t know how to say it,” Y/N confessed, her voice barely above a whisper, the admission leaving her chest hollow. “I feel... like I need more. I’m always craving more—more touch, more attention. But I don’t know how to ask for it. I don’t know how to explain it without feeling like I’m too much.”

Jayce’s expression softened further, his hand shifting to her shoulder, a comforting presence. “You’re never too much for us, Y/N,” he said, his voice deep and reassuring. “What you need is important. It’s not about feeling too much—it’s about us finding a way to meet those needs together. You don’t have to hide anything from us.”

Y/N could feel the warmth of their understanding, but there was still a tightness in her chest that wouldn’t go away. The fear of rejection, of asking for something she wasn’t sure they were ready to give, lingered in the back of her mind. “I... I know I can be a bit much sometimes. I feel so needy. But it’s not something I know how to control. I just... want to feel wanted, I think. I want to feel like I’m enough for both of you.”

Viktor’s expression softened, his brow furrowing slightly with empathy as he processed her words. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting more,” he said, his voice rich with understanding. “Desire is a natural part of who we are, and it can be... overwhelming at times, especially when you don’t know how to express it. But the key is not to suppress it. To be open about it.”

Jayce gave a slow nod. “Exactly. You don’t need to hide any part of who you are. If you feel like you need more attention, more affection, we can give you that. We just need to know what that looks like for you, Y/N.”

Y/N swallowed hard, the words suddenly feeling much more real than she’d expected them to. She’d always been afraid of pushing people away by being too demanding, too open about her desires, especially in a relationship that involved more than one person. But Viktor and Jayce weren’t pulling away—they were only drawing closer.

“I’m scared that I’ll ask for too much,” she admitted softly, looking down at her hands, twisting the fabric of her sleeves nervously. “I feel like if I say it out loud, it’ll be too much. I want to feel wanted, but I don’t know how to... how to make you understand. Sometimes, I just need more touch, more connection, but it’s hard for me to... to ask for it. To say what I want.”

Jayce reached out, his hand cupping her chin gently to lift her gaze back to him. His touch was warm and grounding, and the intensity in his eyes made her feel like he saw her. Really saw her. “You don’t have to feel ashamed of what you want, Y/N. We’re here, we’re listening. What you need is important, and we want to be the ones to help you get it. You don’t have to be afraid of asking, of needing us. It’s okay.”

Viktor’s voice was softer than usual, almost as if he were speaking to himself as much as to her. “The difficulty is not in wanting more, but in fearing that it will drive us away. You don’t need to hide anything from us. If you want touch, affection, more... attention, then we can explore that. We will go at your pace, as long as we are all clear and respectful of each other’s needs.”

The weight of their words settled in her chest, the knot finally beginning to loosen as she realised that the very thing she feared—being too much—was the thing they both welcomed with open arms. She wasn’t a burden. Her desires weren’t something to be ashamed of.

“I... I need you both,” she confessed, her voice thick with emotion. “I need to feel wanted, to feel seen. I need you to touch me, to show me that I’m not too much.” Her breath hitched as she said the words aloud, feeling both vulnerable and liberated in the same breath.

Jayce smiled warmly, the kind of smile that made her feel like she was truly understood. He brushed a lock of hair from her face and leaned in close, his voice low and sincere. “You’re not too much, Y/N. We want to make you feel complete. And we’ll take the time to learn how.”

Viktor nodded, his hand resting on her shoulder now, grounding her in his presence. “We’ll do this together, step by step. We will learn what you need and make sure we give it to you. There’s no rush. There’s no shame.”

Y/N felt something shift inside her, a sense of relief flooding her as she realised that asking for what she needed wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t something to be feared or hidden. It was a part of her, and they wanted to understand it, to embrace it. And maybe, just maybe, she could finally allow herself to be seen.

VANDER

The candlelight flickered softly, casting a warm glow across the room, but the shadows seemed to grow longer in the silence between them. Y/N sat on the edge of the couch, her fingers nervously twisting in her lap. The room felt like it was closing in around her as she tried to gather the courage to say what had been weighing on her for weeks.

Vander sat across from her, his usual calm and imposing presence somehow softened tonight. His broad frame was relaxed, but there was a subtle tension in the way his eyes lingered on her, waiting for her to speak.

"You're awfully quiet tonight," he said gently, his voice low and warm. "Is something on your mind, love?"

Y/N looked at him, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to tell him everything — about the way her body reacted to him, how every brush of his hand made her ache with longing. She wanted to be open with him, but the words were caught in her throat. The thought of sharing something so personal, so vulnerable, filled her with dread. What if he didn’t understand? What if he didn’t want her the way she needed to be wanted?

"I..." She swallowed hard, biting her lip as she looked down at her hands, trying to steady her breathing. "I don’t know how to say this."

Vander's brow furrowed with concern, and he leaned forward, his large hands resting on his knees. "Hey," he said, his tone soft, "whatever it is, you don’t have to be afraid to tell me. I’m not going anywhere. You know that, right?"

Y/N took a deep breath and nodded, her fingers still twitching in her lap. She had to say it. She had to. But how? How could she explain something so... raw?

"You’ve been patient with me," she started slowly, her voice barely above a whisper, "and I don’t know if you’ll understand, but... I feel like I need to be honest with you. About who I am."

Vander’s gaze softened, his eyes full of quiet understanding. "You don’t have to explain yourself, love. But if it helps, I’m listening."

She hesitated, biting her lip harder as the words tumbled out, her voice shaking slightly. "I... I’m hypersexual, Vander."

Vander blinked, his expression unreadable for a moment, and Y/N’s heart sank. She had said it, but now that it was out there, she was terrified of how he might react.

"I mean..." She stumbled over her words, trying to clarify. "I don’t just want you, I need you. All the time. It’s not just physical. It’s... it’s more than that. And sometimes it’s overwhelming."

The silence stretched between them, her chest tight with anxiety as she waited for him to say something. Anything.

Vander didn’t speak immediately, but instead, he moved closer, his hand gently brushing against her arm, grounding her in the moment. "You don’t have to be ashamed of that," he said quietly, his voice steady. "Everyone has their own needs, love. But if this is something you’re struggling with, I want to help you with it. We can figure it out together."

Y/N felt a surge of relief, but also something else—something deeper. She had feared that her desires, the way her body constantly craved more, would push him away. But Vander... Vander didn’t pull back. He was here, and his words were like a balm to the rawness inside her.

"I don’t know how to ask for it," she admitted, her voice breaking slightly. "It’s like, I feel this fire inside me, but when it comes to telling you what I need, I freeze. It’s hard to ask for what I want. I don’t know if you’ll want the same things, or if I’ll be too much."

Vander’s expression softened even further, and he reached out to gently cup her cheek, guiding her eyes to meet his. "You’re not too much for me," he said with a sincerity that made Y/N’s heart ache. "I’ll never think that about you. If anything, it makes me want to be closer to you. To understand you better."

She bit her lip, feeling a fresh wave of uncertainty, but Vander’s steady presence made her feel a little braver. "I... I need you, Vander. More than you probably realise. Not just... in bed, but in every way. And sometimes it feels like I’m drowning in it. It’s like this constant hunger, this craving, and I’m scared you won’t want to keep up."

Vander was quiet for a long moment, his thumb brushing over her skin in slow, comforting motions. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he spoke. "You’re not asking for too much. You’re asking for what you need, and I’m more than willing to help you find a way to make it work. We’ll go at your pace, and you don’t have to hide any part of yourself from me."

Y/N felt a wave of emotion rise in her chest. The warmth of his words, the way he was accepting her, all of her, without hesitation, broke down the walls she hadn’t even realised she had built. She wanted to reach for him, to pull him close, but there was a part of her that still felt fragile, still unsure.

"I just don’t want to overwhelm you," she murmured, her hands finally finding his, gripping them tightly as if holding on for dear life.

"You won’t overwhelm me," Vander reassured her. "I promise you, love, I’m not going anywhere. If anything, I want to be closer. I want to understand you better. Every part of you, even the parts that feel... too much. We’ll figure it out, step by step."

Y/N closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply, feeling the weight of his words sink in. The knot in her chest began to loosen, and a part of her she hadn’t realised had been holding on so tightly finally relaxed. He wasn’t pushing her away. If anything, he was giving her the space to express herself fully.

"It’s not easy for me to ask," she admitted, her voice a little stronger now. "It’s like I’m afraid that if I ask too much, I’ll scare you off. Or... or that you’ll think I’m too much. But I need you so much. In a way that doesn’t always make sense, even to me."

Vander’s hand gently squeezed hers, bringing her focus back to him. "Love, you don’t have to be afraid of your needs. They’re part of who you are. And I’m not going to run from you because of that. What you need doesn’t scare me — it just makes me want to know you better. To understand what will make you feel safe and fulfilled. That’s all I want."

Y/N felt a soft warmth spread through her chest, and she leaned into his touch, allowing herself to finally relax a little. "I want to feel wanted. Not just in moments of passion, but all the time. I want to feel like you desire me, even when we’re not... together like that. Sometimes, I feel like I can’t stop, that there’s this constant need inside me. It’s exhausting sometimes, trying to keep it all in."

Vander’s hand gently cupped the back of her neck, drawing her closer to him. "I want to make sure you feel wanted, every single day, Y/N. Whether we’re sharing a quiet moment, talking, or... whatever else it is that you need. You don’t have to hold it all in anymore. You can come to me, and we’ll work through it. You’re not alone in this."

Her lips parted, her throat dry with emotion. "But... what if it’s too much? What if you get tired of me?"

Vander shook his head slowly, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "There’s no such thing as ‘too much’ for me, love. Not when it comes to you. I’m here to stay, for all of you. Every part of you. All the things you think might push me away? I want to be the one you can turn to when you need it the most."

The vulnerability in his eyes melted the last of Y/N’s hesitation, and she leaned forward, her lips brushing against his with a tender, grateful kiss. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the softness of their connection, the comfort of their shared understanding.

"Thank you," she whispered against his lips, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for being patient with me. For... understanding what I need. I’m scared sometimes, but with you, I don’t feel like I have to hide any of it."

Vander’s hand slid into her hair, gently tilting her head as his lips met hers again, this time with a deeper urgency. "You never have to thank me for that, love," he murmured between kisses. "I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure it out together, every step of the way."

And as their lips met again, Y/N knew that this was only the beginning. She wasn’t alone in this. Not anymore.

SILCO

The dim glow of the candles flickered across the darkened room, casting long shadows on the walls. The faint scent of tobacco smoke lingered in the air, and the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth was the only other sound that seemed to fill the heavy silence. Silco sat in his chair, his posture as straight and commanding as ever, but there was something different about him tonight. Something deeper. He was watching you with a gaze that was unreadable, though intense enough to make your heart race in your chest.

You shifted in your seat, fingers tracing the rim of your glass absentmindedly, your gaze dropping to the surface of the dark liquid inside it. The silence between you was thick, like a tangible weight, and it pressed down on you with an almost suffocating force. You weren’t used to feeling this way. You’d always been bold, confident in what you wanted. But with Silco, it was different. Every instinct you had, every sharp desire you had ever followed, seemed to be clouded by his presence, by his dark, unyielding gaze. There was an intensity to him, a danger, and a confidence that left you uncertain about how to approach him, how to bridge the space between what you needed and the words you were too scared to speak.

He was intimidating, in a way that made you second-guess everything. You had spent your whole life demanding what you wanted without hesitation, without apology. But this... this was different. His gaze alone made you feel vulnerable, exposed. The way his eyes never seemed to stray from you made your thoughts scatter, leaving you unsure of how to vocalise the longing that simmered beneath your skin.

He never pressured you, never asked for anything. And yet, you felt like there was so much he could ask of you. That he could demand things of you, in ways that sent a flush through your body. What would he think of you if you did speak up? Would he see your need for him as weakness? Would he think you too bold, too much?

The question lingered in your mind, and for the first time in a long time, you found yourself afraid. Afraid of wanting. Afraid of being open.

Silco, on the other hand, was watching you closely, studying the subtle way you shifted, the way your gaze darted to the floor when the heat between you both grew too much. He had known from the moment you’d walked into his office that something had changed. You were different with him now, no longer the confident, sharp individual you had once been. There was a vulnerability to you that he hadn’t seen before, and it intrigued him. But Silco was patient. He knew the power of waiting, of letting the tension build until it became unbearable, until you were forced to confront it.

He didn’t need to rush you, didn’t need to press. You would come to him when you were ready.

"You’re quiet tonight," Silco’s voice broke the stillness, low and smooth, like velvet slipping through your thoughts. His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you looked up at him, meeting his gaze for the first time since he’d entered the room. The look in his eyes made it feel like he could see straight through you, like he was reading your thoughts as easily as if they were written in front of him. "Something on your mind?"

You felt your breath catch in your throat. This was it. The moment you could speak up, the moment you could tell him what you truly needed. But as you opened your mouth to respond, the words died on your tongue. How could you tell him? How could you ask for something so intimate, so raw, when you could barely admit it to yourself?

“I’m…” you started, but your voice cracked, betraying you before you could finish. You bit your lip, frustration bubbling up inside you. This wasn’t like you. You had always been able to take control of your desires, to demand them when you wanted. But Silco? With him, you felt small, unsure, like something more than your usual self was being drawn out. Something you didn’t know how to navigate.

Silco saw the hesitation, the uncertainty in your eyes. He didn’t mock you for it. No, he simply waited. His gaze softened, just the smallest hint of concern flickering beneath the usual cold calculation. But the danger in his eyes remained, lurking beneath the surface, as if warning you that whatever happened next was entirely up to you.

Without a word, he stood up from his chair. His movements were deliberate, slow, like a predator closing in on its prey. You couldn’t help but feel a flutter of anticipation in your stomach, a mixture of excitement and fear as he approached. Each step was measured, and each one felt like it brought him closer to something that both thrilled and terrified you.

When he stopped before you, his face just inches from yours, you felt your breath catch. His presence was overwhelming, and you couldn’t look away from the intensity in his gaze. His hand reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a tenderness that seemed at odds with the dark energy surrounding him.

“I know you want something, Y/N,” Silco’s voice was barely above a whisper now, as if he were teasing you. But there was something else in his tone, something more knowing, more assured. “Don’t be afraid to ask.”

And just like that, the dam that had held back your words began to crack. The raw vulnerability you’d tried to bury surged to the surface, a need so desperate, so consuming, that you could no longer pretend it didn’t exist. You needed him. You wanted him. But how could you put that into words?

His fingers moved gently down your neck, his touch light but electrifying, sending goosebumps across your skin. He didn’t press further, didn’t push, but the weight of his presence—of his understanding—made your heart race. His voice, though soft, was filled with an intensity that left you breathless.

“You don’t need to be scared of me,” Silco whispered, the words both comforting and unsettling. “I don’t bite. Not unless you ask me to.”

A shiver ran through you at his words, and for a brief moment, you considered it. What would it be like, to ask him? To demand from him, to finally give in to the ache that had been building inside you? The thought made you dizzy, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

Your hand reached up, trembling slightly as it covered his, guiding it further down your body, silently pleading for him to understand. You didn’t need to say anything more. He had already seen it in the way you’d looked at him, in the way your breath hitched every time his fingers brushed against your skin.

“Silco…” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. Your heart pounded against your ribs, but something inside you broke free. You had never been this open, this vulnerable with anyone before, but you needed to say it. "I… I’m not like other people. I’ve always been… hypersexual. It’s not that I don’t want you—I do. But I’ve never been able to ask for what I need, and it makes me feel—" You paused, taking a breath, unsure if you could finish, but you pushed through. "It makes me feel... desperate, sometimes."

Silco’s eyes darkened at your admission, the flicker of understanding clear in his gaze. The silence between you now felt different—he was no longer waiting for you to speak. He was waiting for you to trust him. And in that moment, you realised that you had. Completely.

His smile curled at the edges, slow and knowing, as if he were proud of you for speaking your truth. His hand tightened slightly on yours, and he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear.

“There you are,” he murmured, the heat in his voice unmistakable. "No more hiding."

You closed your eyes, your pulse thundering in your ears as the tension between you became unbearable. There were no more walls, no more hesitation. You could feel the rawness of your need, the way your body screamed for him in a way you could no longer ignore.

“You don’t have to ask, Y/N,” Silco’s voice dropped to a low growl, sending another shiver down your spine. "I’ll take care of you. But I need you to understand something. When you give yourself to me... there’s no going back."

And for the first time, you weren’t afraid. You wanted him, wanted this. You wanted him to take you—just as he promised he would. And in that moment, you knew you had just surrendered the last of your reservations.

MEL

The soft, ambient light of the evening filtered through the tall windows of Mel’s study, casting long shadows across the room. The quiet hum of the city outside seemed distant, muffled by the thick stone walls. In her chair, Mel leaned back, her gaze intense as she regarded Y/N across the room.

Y/N, seated on the plush armchair, fiddled nervously with the hem of her sleeve. The two had been together for a little while now, but something still held Y/N back. She longed for more, for something deeper, but there was an inexplicable fear that gripped her every time she thought of asking for what she truly desired. She wanted to tell Mel exactly what she needed—wanted to surrender to the desire that had been simmering beneath her skin—but the words wouldn't come.

Mel had always been so confident, so sure of herself. Y/N found it hard to imagine that someone as poised and self-assured as her could ever feel the same fear, the same hesitation. It was a thought that kept her from asking, from reaching out, and it left her sitting in silence, unsure of how to break the tension that seemed to stretch between them.

She couldn’t even bring herself to admit it aloud.

“Mel,” Y/N said softly, her voice wavering ever so slightly. “I… I feel like I’m always the one… waiting for something more. But I don’t know how to ask.”

Mel set down the papers in her hands and turned her full attention to Y/N. She could see the uncertainty in her eyes, the way her fingers twitched in hesitation. There was something in Y/N’s posture, something raw, that made her heart ache. She could feel the weight of it—the unspoken desire, the longing—but Mel had always been the kind of woman who understood the power of patience.

“I know,” Mel said gently, her voice soothing yet filled with a knowing warmth that made Y/N’s breath catch. She moved closer, settling down on the edge of the armchair, their proximity sending a subtle rush of heat through the air between them. “You’re afraid of asking for what you need. But, you know... you’re not the only one.”

Y/N looked up at Mel, surprise flickering across her face. The words hung in the air like a promise, soft yet undeniably powerful. “You too?”

Mel nodded, her expression softening as she met Y/N’s gaze, her eyes dark with understanding. “I’ve been in that place, where it’s hard to even vocalise what you want. It’s not just you, darling. Sometimes, the fear of being too forward, too demanding... it stops us from even saying the simplest things.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and her breath hitched. She had always assumed Mel, with all her elegance, grace, and undeniable allure, was someone who knew exactly what she wanted. The revelation that Mel had struggled with the same fear made her feel less alone, but it also caused something more dangerous to stir inside her—an overwhelming vulnerability.

“I don’t want to be... too much,” Y/N confessed quietly, her gaze dropping to her hands. “I feel like if I ask for more, I’ll scare you off or... or be too demanding.”

Mel’s hand found Y/N’s, her fingers warm and reassuring. She gently guided Y/N’s hand to her own lap, her thumb tracing delicate patterns across her skin as if to soothe away the tension. “You’re not too much,” she said firmly, her voice low, almost intimate. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting more—wanting everything—when you’re with someone who sees you. Who understands you.”

Y/N looked at Mel, searching her face for any hint of insincerity. Her heart raced with an anxious thrill. “You mean it?”

Mel’s lips quirked into a small smile, and she leaned in a little closer, their faces mere inches apart now. The scent of her perfume—a delicate blend of jasmine and sandalwood—filled the air, and Y/N could feel the warmth radiating from Mel’s body. “Of course,” she whispered, her voice soft and smooth like silk. “I’m the same. It’s easy to be scared of wanting too much, but what we both need is simple, isn’t it?”

Y/N swallowed, trying to steady her racing heart. She was so close now, so close to Mel’s warmth, but the words were still stuck in her throat. She could feel the pressure building in her chest, like an overwhelming tide threatening to crash over her. “What do we need?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Mel’s thumb brushed over the back of Y/N’s hand, her touch gentle yet insistent. “We need to be honest,” Mel said softly, her eyes darkening with a knowing intensity. “We need to trust that neither of us will be too much for the other. And if there’s something you want... something that makes you feel safe, or wanted... you just need to tell me. I’ll listen.”

Y/N’s pulse quickened at the intimacy in Mel’s words. There was something dangerous and enticing about her quiet promise, something that made her ache for more. Mel wasn’t just offering to listen—she was offering everything. And for the first time, Y/N felt the weight of her own desires, raw and unguarded.

“But what if I tell you something that’s... too much?” Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her breath shallow as she tried to steady her trembling hands.

Mel leaned in even closer, her lips brushing against Y/N’s ear, sending a thrill of heat down her spine. “If it’s what you truly need, it’s never too much for me,” she said softly, her voice laced with a seductive promise. “Never.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. The words were so simple, yet so full of unspoken desire, that it took everything in her not to give in to the heat pooling in her stomach. She had never imagined Mel to be so open, so willing to give everything. But here, now, with her body so close, so tantalisingly near, Y/N realised that this was not a woman who would shy away from the heat of desire. No, Mel was a woman who thrived in it.

“Mel...” Y/N began, her voice steadier now, though still tinged with vulnerability. She turned her gaze up to meet Mel’s, feeling the weight of her longing pressing in on her chest. “I think I know what I need from you.”

Mel’s eyes darkened, anticipation flooding her expression. She moved even closer, their faces so near now that Y/N could feel the warmth of Mel’s breath on her lips. Her heart pounded in her chest, every fibre of her body alive with the raw tension, waiting for Mel’s response.

Y/N hesitated for just a moment longer before Mel began speaking, her voice quiet but heavy with an unspoken promise. “I need you to show me what you feel... not just with words, but with actions. I need to feel all of you, Y/N. The real you. Everything you’re afraid to show—the passion, the tenderness, the desire... all of it.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered with understanding, her lips curving into a slow, knowing smile. “You want everything, then?” Her voice was a sultry whisper, sending a shiver down Mel’s spine.

Mel nodded, her breath hitching as she met Y/N’s gaze, the heat of desire building between them. She had never been more certain of her own desires. “Yes. I want all of you, Y/N. Everything you have to offer.”

Y/N’s smile deepened, a predatory curve to her lips. She leaned in, her lips brushing against Mel’s forehead in a lingering kiss, as if savouring the moment. “Then everything you shall have,” she murmured, her voice low, possessive.

When their lips finally met, it wasn’t just a kiss—it was a surrender. A moment of raw vulnerability shared between them. Mel’s kiss was soft, tender, but beneath it simmered a heat that pulled Y/N closer, drawing her in. It was a kiss that promised so much more, a kiss that spoke of desires that had been waiting to be released.

Mel’s hands roamed over Y/N’s back, drawing her in tighter. The kiss deepened, slow at first, then urgent, as Y/N melted into it, letting herself be consumed by the fire that burned between them. There was no hesitation now. No fear. Only the raw, unfiltered need to feel everything—to experience everything they had been too afraid to ask for.

In that moment, Y/N realised something. With Mel, there would be no holding back. There would be no more fear of asking for what she truly craved. No more shame. No more barriers. It was a new beginning—one of honesty, vulnerability, and a love that was free of limits. A love that burned hot and fierce, giving them both what they needed.

As their bodies pressed closer, the world outside seemed to fade away. All that mattered was the connection between them. Y/N knew she could ask for everything now, and Mel would be there to give it—all of it. No shame, no hesitation, just desire. Just passion. And just each other.

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kaminocasey · 7 months ago

Text

Personal Space

A/N: I saw art of Jayce invading personal space and realized that Jayce would have no concept of personal space. (Did you see the way that man laid his head in Mel's lap? The way he comforts Viktor?) Also please be gentle with me, this is my first Arcane/Jayce fic lol.

Summary: You really love your personal space, unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how one looks at it, Jayce also really loves your personal space.

Warnings: Fluff, a little bit of angst. Jayce Talis has no sense of personal space. Kissing. Parties. Protective!Jayce.

Pairing: University!Jayce Talis x University!Reader

“It’s looking like it’s not going to be finished in time to show the professor…” Jayce grumbles to himself, looking up at the chalkboard full of equations and symbols that you don’t understand.

You’re studying literature. Jayce is studying science. Opposites. Yet, you know what they say about opposites attracting. Like magnets. That’s you and Jayce. Though, you suppose Jayce probably wouldn’t understand that phrase unless it’s only referencing magnets.

That’s the thing about the two of you. Before meeting Jayce, you couldn’t stand to let anyone in your personal space. You didn’t like people touching you but then this guy came along and it was obvious right from the start, he’s the touchy type. And suddenly, you found yourself not minding.

“Look at this.” Jayce grabs you, pulling you in front of him so that his front is pressed up against your back.

Gods, he’s so warm. You can’t help but lean against him as he rests one hand on your hip and then points to all the things on the chalkboard with the other, explaining every single point and fact to you. You have no idea what the hell he’s talking about, but it doesn’t matter.

So much for personal space.

~*~

“Read to me.” Jayce walks into your dorm room late at night, finding you curled up in your bed, leaning against the wall, reading your book.

Without an invite, he crawls into your bed and then rests his head in your lap, shutting his eyes. You can tell that he’s been in the lab all night by the way his body just slumps over your lap, his hand resting on your knee.

“My roommate is sleeping.” You murmur, looking up at her across the room in her bed, her back turned to you as she faces the wall.

“She’s a heavy sleeper.” He shrugs.

You don’t say anything for a moment, earning a sigh from Jayce.

“Resa.” Jayce says your roommate’s name a little loudly.

Your head shoots up to your sleeping roommate’s form who hasn’t even so much as budged.

“See?” Jayce chuckles, glancing up at you slightly.

You let out a fake sigh, rolling your eyes and then start reading out loud. You get about a page in when Jayce pulls your free hand up into his hair, letting you know what he wants. Your fingers curl into his hair and start massaging his scalp.

He lets out a soft groan and your hand pauses for a moment before he whispers. “Don’t stop… please.”

You smile softly and start again, turning back to your book and starting to read out loud again. A few moments later, you hear soft snores.

Later that night, as the two of you sleep, he has you pulled against him as he spoons you. You can’t help but think to yourself the next morning when you wake up before he does, who needs personal space?

~*~

Shelving books on the weekend at the library helps bring in a little bit of income for you to get by while at university. Sometimes, Jayce will come and keep you company while you do so. Which is how you find yourself in this situation.

“So, I was thinking we could leave from here and go straight to Claxle’s party once you’re off?” He gestures to the doors.

You give him a sour face.

“Don’t give me that face. Please.” He gives you a fake pout, making you roll your eyes.

“Don’t you give me that face.” You look down at the cart of books, trying to not give in.

At least not right away.

Every time you pull books off the cart to put back onto the library shelves, he takes another step toward you, practically crowding you against the shelf.

Does he know he does this to you? Does he do it on purpose?

“I cannot think of anything I’d rather do less than go to Claxle Bogart’s party.” You whisper.

He chuckles. “Oh come on. The parties aren’t that bad.”

You raise your eyebrows in a “oh really?” Kind of way and he rolls his own eyes, leaning off the shelf and stepping closer toward you, forcing you to look up at him. It’s times like these when you’re reminded of how much bigger he is than you.

“Jayce…” You sigh, your eyes looking up into warm amber eyes.

He sighs your name and it takes everything in you to not go weak in the knees.

“I’m afraid I won’t be much fun. I just wanna go back to my room and read my book.” You murmur, pulling away to start shelving books again.

“That’s why we gotta loosen you up, sweetheart.” He teases you, grabbing your shoulders and forcing you to look into his eyes again.

You can’t help but go warm at the nickname and at the begging eyes. Unfortunately, you know there’s no saying no to this man. You think he knows that, too.

~*~

There’s a band playing somewhere in the hall of this dorm that has the door open so the music can trail out throughout the party. This is definitely not your scene, but as Jayce guides you through a crowd of people, his hand on your lower back, you can’t help but lean into his side. When you look up at him, he’s just looking forward, unaware of the effect he has on you.

“Do you want a drink?” He leans down, close to your ear.

The warmth of his breath sends goosebumps down your entire body. You nod, leaning against the wall, needing a moment to collect yourself. Watching as he disappears into one of the rooms, you look up at the ceiling, breathing deeply. The music still feels way too loud and you feel exposed.

The dress was Jayce’s idea. He had told you that you looked great and you thought maybe you could trace a hint of pink in his cheeks when he said it, but you’re not convinced that wasn’t just your brain hoping.

You hear your name from an unfortunately familiar voice.

“Claxle.” You sigh, rolling your head to look at the annoying host of the party.

He leans against the wall, invading your personal space in a way that feels absolutely wrong. This is way different than Jayce. Jayce’s presence is warm and sweet. This is cold and makes you feel like you’re being stared at by a predator.

“You don’t normally come to my parties.” He takes a sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving you.

Your head turns toward the door that Jayce went in and you debate whether or not you should go find him.

“Jayce convinced me.” You tell him.

“Talis, huh?” He smirks. “I always thought there was a little something something with you two. Then I figured maybe he was just using you to help him with his homework or something.”

You glare at Claxle. “Jayce is a scientist. I think he can manage his own homework. You know, speaking of, I think you’re the one who needs a tutor since you’ve not turned in an assignment to Professor Ulsa.”

You give a polite and fake smile to let him know you’re done with the conversation. Unfortunately, Claxle gets a look in his eye as he looks you up and down.

“You do realize you’re wasting your time with Talis, right? Saw him cozying up with some blonde girl the other day anyway.” He smirks.

“Okay.” You reply, refusing to give him any sort of reaction.

Before Claxle can say anything else, Jayce finally makes his way back over, handing you a drink with a gentle “hey”. You smile up at him, ignoring the other guy. Claxle walks away without even acknowledging him.

“What did Bogart want?” He asks.

You shrug with an amused look. “To let me know I’m not your type and that you’re only friends with me so I can help you with school.”

“What?” He glares, looking away into the crowd for Claxle.

“Hey, it doesn’t matter.” You try to pull his attention back to you.

Jayce’s gaze softens when he looks back down at you, nodding reluctantly. He’s normally so level headed, you’ve never seen him that worked up over something some jerk says.

“Let's get out of here.” He mumbles, taking your drink and sitting it down with his on a table so that he can grab your hand and lead you up the steps to the roof of the dormitory.

He’s quiet for a while as he looks out over Piltover.

“Jayce?” You tilt your head, watching as he’s leaning against the edge of the building.

He turns his head toward you and then slides his hand down to your hip, looking down at his own hand as he does so. This feels different than usual.

“Why don’t you like me?” He murmurs, resting his forehead against yours.

“What?” You ask, confused. “Of course I like-”

“No… that’s not what I-” He groans softly, clearly frustrated. “Claxle was wrong… you are my type.”

Oh.

“I am?” You can’t help but whisper, terrified that if you talk too loudly, this moment could be ruined or taken away from you. Or maybe you’re just too used to working in a quiet library.

“Of course you are.” He smiles that charming smile that makes your chest tighten. “I’ve only been flirting with you for the past two years.”

“Two years?” You ask, incredulous. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

He shrugs. “I’m shy?”

You playfully slug him and he laughs, pulling you closer against him.

“I’ve been trying… I cuddle with you, I touch you…” He murmurs.

“Jayce…” You shake your head, amused. “I thought that was just you being touchy.”

“You didn’t notice I’m only that way when I’m with you?” He grins.

You shrug. “I guess not.”

“Will this help?” He asks, leaning down and brushing his soft pink lips against yours.

Finally, you think to yourself.

His lips are just as soft as you’d thought they’d be. It seems like he’s been wanting to do this for just as long as you have.

When he pulls away, you shake your head. “Need a little more help.”

He chuckles against your lips before deepening the kiss, his hands eagerly finding your hips to hold you right where you are, holding onto you like you’re this man’s anchor.

Yeah, you think, there is no personal space when it comes to Jayce Talis.

And you’re absolutely fine with that.

#Arcane #Arcane fic #Jayce Talis #Jayce Talis x Reader #Arcane x reader #Jayce Talis/Reader

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space-blue · 7 months ago

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Ekko's device vs. Jayce rune?

Ok I'm not going to pretend to make sense of it, but let's talk!

It turns out the rune given to Jayce by Viktor in this timeline/AU is an acceleration rune.

We know this because Ekko says as much as he creates his rewind time tool.

And it leaves me to wonder if that isn't important?

Ekko just blew up an Arcane bubble-thingy within a hextech devide meant to "rewind" time.

Meanwhile, Jayce takes the Arcane rune seemingly from inside his wrist and places it inside Viktor's palm. And we now know it's an "acceleration rune".

So Viktor has this really cool 2D frame, and then every soul he has "corrupted" is summoned up and out of those runes :

But in the meantime, outside, they are frozen in place/time under the rune that expanded from Ekko's device, the one Viktor deemed impossible :

So basically I'm wondering WTF is going on, and how much of it could be a sort of matter vs. anti-matter situation?

Do they disappear because they are channeling an acceleration rune inside a deceleration rune zone? More importantly, is this scene ONLY possible in THIS life?

I think the RUNE matters. I think that Viktor has gone again and again to gift a rune to Jayce because in all universes he ends up alone and miserable as Jayce failed to stop him/kill him.

But in this one Jayce has an acceleration rune on himself, and Ekko shows up with a device INVENTED BASED ON THAT RUNE. A device Machine Herald Viktor thinks isn't possible.

So it may be that this is the only timeline in which 1/Hextech comes to exist and 2/ Viktor gets to end things in the battle in his REAL favour (by dying there).

Another point:

I think it's fascinating that he's not depicted with a Machine Herald look. It's likely he had it at the time, but has been in there all alone for god knows how long, and has just... chosen to de-evolve. He's gotten rid of the arm, the mask, the trappings. He has no reason to sport them, and they brought him no good.

I think it matters he appears like this to Viktor in particular, besides the fact it's probably just to not confuse the viewers too much.

#jayvik #jayce talis #viktor #viktor arcane #jayce arcane #arcane 2 #arcane #arcane finale #arcane spoilers #arcane 2 spoilers #arcane meta

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rosenclaws · 4 months ago

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ma meilleure ennemie || Worst!Logan x Reader

summary: Logan loved, lost, fought, and killed you in his world. Now after being thrust into another universe. He finds you in a world where things worked out. How unfair.

warnings: angst, fem pronouns are used for the reader, its kinda a sad ending but like bittersweet more. talks of fighting and violence

wc: 4.2k

a/n: This is based on the song from Arcane! I would highly recommend watching the show btw its amazing and the scene this song is from is absolutely gorgeous. Anyways I hope y'all enjoy <33

Logan was really sick of all this multiverse stuff. Like seriously.

He barely remembers what happened. Wade had taken another one of this universe hopping devices from the TVA in order to complete some mission but as usual the two got into it. Shouting and fighting until Logan's claws went right into the little device. Before either of them could react it exploded. Logan felt like every atom in his body was being ripped apart and put back together. The world was spinning and he wasn’t quite sure where he was anymore.

In the blink of an eye he's not standing next to wade anymore. He in a bedroom. The light shining through the window and birds chirping outside. Logan looks down and sees that he's no longer in a bloody yellow and blue suit, but simple sweatpants and a black shirt. What the actually fuck. He catches a glimpse of himself in a mirror.

He looks different, just slightly. He had less wrinkles and the bags under his eyes were gone. His hair was a little longer too. It was uncanny as hell. It was him, he was moving his hand and touching his face but it doesn't fully feel like him. He hears laughter outside of his door.

Slowly he opens it, poking his head out to see the hallways bustling with students and teachers. He catches a glimpse of blue fur and he slams the door shut. No no no this isn't real. This is some weird fucked up nightmare dream thing. His heart starts to race as the sights and smells of this odd world start to fuck with his senses. He shuts his eyes and bangs his head against the door. Just wake up already Logan.

Wake. Up.

"You drink too much last night honey?" Logan acts before he can think.

Claws out and slamming whoever had snuck up on him into the door. Logan's eyes widen as he sees you under his arm. Confusion in your eyes as you tug at his arm.

"Fuck! Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." You push him away with your powers but Logan's gaze only hardens.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He growls. He should bury these deep in your fucking head.

"I live here?" You furrow your brows as you put your hands up.

You take a step forward but Logan takes on back. His defenses are up and he won't make the same mistake this time. You're dangerous, you're the enemy.

"Logan what's gotten into you?" You ask softly. You try again to reach out and touch him but he flinches away.

"Stay away from me." He pushes past you, shoving you into the wall as he rips the door open and runs down the hall. Ignoring the call of his name.

He wanders aimlessly around the mansion until he finds Charles office. If anyone can explain what was happening it's him.

"Ah Logan, I've been waiting for you to arrive, please sit." Hesitantly he sits down, he can't help but observe everything around him.

The last time he was here, at the mansion, was the worst day of his life. But now everyone's laughing and happy. He blinks and the memories flashes in his mind. The blood that stained the walls, the smell of burning, the screams.

"So much pain. I'm so sorry." Charles wheels over to Logan.

"Hey chuck. Been a long time." Logan grumbles. His hands dig into the chair handles, almost tearing them off the more he lets his mind spiral.

"Forgive me for prying, but your thoughts are incredibly loud." Charles pokes and prods Logan's brain. Seeing glimpses of his world and this one mashing together.

"You're not from here." Logan nods his head.

"I don't know how I got here but, I need to get back."

"Start from the beginning." Logan spills it all.

Starting with his own world. How he walked away and it led to everyone being killed. The years of grieving and killing. How he was found and kidnapped by Wade and how it led to him saving the universe. How their fight led to him being thrown into a completely new timeline. Appearing to have taken over the body of this worlds Logan. And you. How you were in his bedroom and the flurry of emotions that came with it.

In Logan's world you were a very powerful mutant with mind powers. You were kind and friendly, but rumbling deep within you was a terrifying power. Power that could level a city with only the snap of your fingers. Charles had taken you in as a child and nursed your abilities. Teaching you the importance of control. You were his prized student. But then Jean came along and Jean became everything you couldn't be. At least that's what you had always told Logan.

She took the spotlight. She got everyone's love an admiration. People weren't scared of her. Her power was graceful and strong while yours was reckless and something to fear. When Logan rolled around you were a professor. He had caught your eye from the moment he was brought in. A handsome, mysterious stranger. But as always it seemed that Jean was the one to grab his attention. Which Logan admits is true, at first. But Jean didn't want him and he respected that.

Logan met you in the middle of the night one day. Small talk turned into more as the sun came up and the two of you were still wrapped up on the couch. You understood him more than anyone and he got you. Your romance may have started slow but it grew into a pillar of Logan's life. He loved you. God he loved you so fucking much. You were his light, his love. You were never a second choice to him, but the right one. The only one that mattered.

But he got to you too late.

All that pain and doubt had been manifesting years before he got there and after one bad mission you exploded. The team had turned on you, told you that it was your fault. It was misplaced anger from everyone. Including him. A shame he carries to this day. Your powers became uncontrollable. If not for Charles and Jean together you could have leveled the entire mansion. Logan tried to console you, to bring you back to him but it was too late. You saw the fear and the hatred growing from those you once considered family.

So you left. The brotherhood got to you before Logan could and the next time he saw you was on the opposite side of battle. You had changed. He barely recognized you anymore. You were cruel and ruthless with your powers.

For years the two of you fought on opposite sides. Logan tried to fight for you. He was convinced the you that he knew was still in there but no one else believed him. They told him over and over that you were gone. That the woman he loved was no more and only a cold blooded villain remained.

You hurt his friends, you threatened the mansion, the kids who once looked up to you now shivered at your name. It hurt him to his core, but eventually he accepted it. His love wasn't enough. Nothing could bring you back. You were gone.

It all cumulated about five years after you left. The brotherhood wanted to use you to wipe out all those who opposed them. Innocent people included. Anyone who stood in their way. The X-Men were sent to stop them. It was a bloody, long, intense fight. Allies and enemies being taken down left and right until it was you and Logan left.

"Please sweetheart, I miss you." Logan begs.

"Come back home."

"That place is not my home anymore." You spit. Nothing but hatred in your eyes as you pushed Logan to the ground. Your powers keeping him from moving.

"I'm going to kill you and all your friends. Nothing is going to stand in our way. Nothing!" Your powers let him go but you grab him by the neck.

For a split second Logan thought he saw regret in your eyes. Something. Anything other than the empty soullessness from before.

Logan! Take it! He hears Jean speak in his mind.

She was nursing Scotts wounds, she could barely stand on her own. With a broken roar he digs his claws right into you. He watches as the light drains from your eyes. As the blood pours from the wounds he gave you. He holds you in his arms. Silently whispering that he loves you, that he's sorry.

Your body goes limp and when Logan can no longer hear your heartbeat he knows that you're truly gone.

Why you let go of Logan he'll never know. You had to have known what the risk was. Why would you ever give him free use of his hands, of his claws? A part of him wonders if this is what you wanted.

Your death took a heavy toll on him. He started drinking more and more. The conflicted feelings weighed heavily on him. Most would celebrate your death but he mourned you every damn day. Mourned the woman you were, the woman that you loved.

"What is she doing here?" Logan asks lowly. Memories of his version of you flashing through his head.

"Here she never lost control, never joined the brotherhood.

"What changed?"

"In this world, Jean came to me first. She was my student first and thus Jean helped me train her to control her powers. She was my star student. Never feared her powers." Logan scoffs.

Was that all it took? Was that little difference all it took to save you? If he had loved you enough could he have saved you? Or were you already too far gone by then.

"We'll work on getting you home. I'll talk to hank and get back to you. For now, just try your best to adjust." Logan is dismissed.

Now what? Maybe he should just hole himself in his room until its time to go home. Until he remembers that you're there too. Suddenly he hears kids screaming, his senses kicking into high gear as he runs outside, claws out on instinct. He sees you with a bunch of kids running around screaming. He doesn't have time to think. He just acts.

"Get away from them!" Logan yells. Making everyone stop in their tracks. He lunges at you and you use your powers to slam him to the ground.

"What the fuck is your problem! We were playing a game!" You shout.

"Kids, go back inside." You command and they slowly file inside, whispering amongst themselves.

"How was I supposed to know that?" Logan growls once you let him back up.

He puts his claws away but the hostility doesn't fade. How could it? His brain is so fucked up right now, he had long accepted that you were gone and now he's thrown into a world where you aren't a villain anymore. That you're the woman he loves again but he just can't let himself trust this. He can't. What if Charles is wrong? He just...he can't do this.

"What did you think? Did you actually think I was going to hurt them?!" You ask mostly as a joke.

"Logan, you've been off since this morning." You reach your hand out but he doesn't take it. He pushes himself up. Putting up these walls that you swore you broke a long time ago.

"I think its best if you stay the hell away from me." He walks away without another word.

Leaving you utterly confused.

Logan locks himself away for the next couple days. Only coming out when he was called by Hank and Charles. He could feel your eyes on him every time. Like a sad puppy he kicked to the curb. He doesn't even look at you. He knows he can't. If he does he'll cave. The problem is that Logan knows he can't stay here. He's only setting himself up for heartbreak if he lets you in. Nothing but pain and what could have been. He just doesn't think he can mourn you anymore. He just wants to go home. To forget this ever happened.

Once again he can't sleep, deciding to walk around the mansion instead. Pictures line the walls, some that he recognizes and others he doesn't. He stops and one in particular. Jean and Scotts wedding. Scott looks happy and Jean is a beautiful bride, but that's not what catches his eye.

It's you standing right beside her. A big smile on your face. You look gorgeous. So happy and carefree.

"I remember that day," He jumps hearing your voice once again. He turns to see you standing away from him, but staring at the picture. His claws don't come out this time at least.

"Can't believe Scott even wanted you as one of his groomsmen with how much shit you give him." You say softly.

"Yeah," Logan looks over to the other side of the photo. Seeing himself dressed in a suit. Except Logan's eyes are on you.

"Charles told me. About your situation. I understand why you reacted the way you did. I'd be freaked out too." You rub your arm awkwardly.

"How much did he tell you." He asks.

"Not much. Just that you're from another timeline and you're trying to get back." Logan grunts.

"That...you've been through a lot of pain and loss." Logan's breath hitches. So Charles didn't tell you any specifics. Maybe that's for the best.

"I don't know...what we are in your world. But I want you to know that I'm here for you Logan." He clenches his fits, god how can you be so sweet to him after he almost stabbed you twice. He'll never understand.

"Thanks. I'm sorry If I scared you before." He says.

"You can never scare me." You say and Logan shuts his eyes.

You used to say that to each other. Logan was made to be a weapon and you were a ticking time bomb. Yet not once were you ever afraid of each other. Both of you looking past what others saw.

"What...what am I? To you?" You ask hesitantly.

The question's been eating you alive since you learned about this whole thing. Logan takes a deep breath. Turning to look at you and feeling his heart sink down to his feet.

"It's a long story, one you don't want to hear." He says with a sigh.

"I mean, I have time. I just. I don't want you to have to carry it all alone." You reach up and touch his arm. Logan's eyes close as he feels your fingers trail down to his hand, lacing your fingers with his. It's been so long since he's held your hand.

"Maybe another time sweetheart." Logan squeezes your hand, using all his willpower to let go of your hand.

You watch sadly as Logan walks away, disappearing back into his room without another word.

He lays on the bed staring at the ceiling nursing a glass of whiskey. It's been a week since he got here. They're close to getting him home. There's muffled music coming from the living room.

It's Storms birthday. Logan should be out there, maybe to keep up appearances but a party is the last thing he wants to be at right now. There's a knock at the door and he ignores it. Until another one, and another. Finally he just gets up to tell them to fuck off. He opens the door to see Charles.

"I said no." He mumbles. Ready to slam the door but Charles stops him.

"I'm not here for that. We should be ready to send you home within the hour. That being said. I know it's been a long time since you saw most of us. Consider saying goodbye this time." With that Charles leaves, leaving Logan stunned.

Quietly he grabs his jacket and heads to the party. Sneaking in as best as he can. Sticking to the corner of the room. He sees Storm talking to Jean and Scott. They're smiling and laughing. Jean spots Logan from across the room. Offering him a small smile.

His eyes move over to the middle of the room. They had pushed the furniture around to make room for a dance floor. He watches as He's not strong enough for this? Rogue, Kitty, and Bobby were dancing. Laughing as they take turns making up stupid dance moves. Jubilee was using her powers to create fireworks that lit up the whole room.

She catches Logan's gaze and waves happily. Seeing everyone again, seeing them happy and thriving. It made his heart ache. To know that at least in one universe, everyone is okay. No thanks to him that is.

"Logan! Come dance!" Jubilee shouts, making everyone's eyes turn to him.

"No thanks kid, I don't do that." He grumbles.

"Oh come on Logan, it's a party." She begs.

Logan sighs and pushes himself off the wall. Walking to the dance floor taking Jubilees hand and spinning her around a little bit. A small smile crossing his face.

He remembers Jubliee asking him to dance once. Back in his timeline. She was a kid. There was this school dance and she wanted to go so badly. He took her hands and she stepped on his toes. He made her swore up and down to never speak of it but he remembers it fondly.

"Mind if I cut in?" He turns to see you standing there. You're all dressed up looking so pretty. Jubliee bows out, wiggling her eyebrows making Logan roll his eyes.

"Hi." You say softly as Logan holds out his hand.

"Hi." He says.

You and Logan move in sync. Like nothing had happened as the two of you move to the music. Logan smiles as he twirls you around and dips you. He lets go of the weight on his shoulders. Letting himself just exist for once. To enjoy holding you in his arms and dancing to the music. He'll face reality when he goes back. But tonight, he'll dance.

When the music lets up he drags you outside away from the noise and the prying eyes. You walk through the garden in a nice quiet. He leans down and picks a flower from the ground, putting it behind your year.

"Pretty." You bite your lip as you tug your coat tighter.

You sit on a bench and Logan joins you. From this angle you can see how lively the mansion is tonight. The party, the lights on in the bedrooms. Its so homey. Logan smiles, a part of his heart feels like it's patching itself up. At least its not all bad in every universe right?

"You go back tonight right?" You ask and Logan nods.

"Are you happy to go back?" Logan looks over at you, grabbing your hand and squeezing it tightly.

"I uh, I don't know." The truth is he wants to stay.

God he wants to stay so badly. To live here and be happy. No worries about the world ending or being reminded of his dead friends. But...He can't stay. As badly as he wants to this isn't his life. You aren't his girlfriend.

As he was told before. All the pain he went through made him the man he is now, there are people out there who still need him. Who need the Wolverine to fight for them. You lean your head on his shoulder.

"I wish I could stop time. Just for a second." He mumbles.

His arm wrapping around your shoulder as he watches them sing happy birthday. You lift your head, staring into his eyes. What sad lonely eyes they are. He leans in, foreheads touching as he cups your face gently.

"Can we, can we just pretend like it's the first time?" He asks in a low whisper.

You nod your head as you close your eyes and let his lips touch yours. The kiss means fucking everything to Logan. His thumb brushes your cheek as he kisses you with ever ounce of love he still has deep in his heart. He knows that you aren't the same woman but fuck he just hopes you know that he's sorry that he wasn't enough. He hopes you know that he loves you.

You tug on his hair and Logan groans. His other hand resting on your back pulling you closer. He reluctantly pulls apart from you. Breathing heavily as he catches his breath. There's this silly smile on your face, one that always appeared after Logan kissed you no matter how much you tried to hide it. He missed it.

Logan. It's time.

He hears Charles in his head. His smile dropping as he realizes it's time to go. "I can go with you down to the lab." You offer as Logan stands up. He takes your hand and helps you up, leaning in to kiss your forehead gently.

"No, I should do this on my own." The truth is he knows that if you're down there he won't be able to go through that damn portal.

"Don't look so sad, You'll have your Logan back soon sweetheart." He wipes away a stray tear from your face.

"I know. It's just, hard to say goodbye." You take the flower from your hair and place it in his jacket pocket.

"Something to remember me by." You walk hand in hand back into the living room.

Logan takes one last look around the room. A strange sense of peace coming over him as everyone smiles and waves to him. It's not goodbye for them, but it is for him. But at least this time, he got to say the words. Logan lets go of your hand, sparing you one last look as he steps into the elevator. He can't bring himself to say anything. You know what he wants to say.

The elevator moves slowly as he heads down to the lab. Silently he steps out and heads towards the lab.

"Logan wait!" He freezes as he hears your voice.

"How did you-"

"The stairs. I took the stairs." You blurt out. He nods, standing there unsure of what to say.

"Can I ask you one question before you go?" You ask breathlessly. He nods. He can hear something happening in the lab, he doesn't have much time.

"In your universe, did you love me? Were we happy?" Maybe its an odd question. After all you just made out outside. But you don't know what this Logan had been through, if things were different or how different they were. You just needed to know. You always had a hunch your love was stronger than a simple timeline.

Logan takes a long look at you. Committing you to memory, so that now he can remember you like this. Smiling and happy and unafraid of who you are.

"I loved you more than anything sweetheart, I still do." With a soft smile you take one last look at Logan before returning back up the stairs. When Logan returns he'll be the man you knew before, but you don't think you'll ever forget this other Logan. Not for a long time.

"You ready Logan?" Hank asks as he hooks Logan up to a machine.

This was supposed to separate the two Logan's. He just prays it doesn't kill him. Logan closes his eyes. Similar to the feeling before he grunts as his cells seem to tear apart once again. Only this time when the pain stops he's back in his bloody suit. The other Logan is laying on the ground. Knocked out from whatever the hell Hank managed to do.

Before their very eyes an orange portal appears. They must have finally pinpointed the anomaly once the two had been separated. Before he steps through he turns around, nodding his head at Hank and then Charles.

"It was good to see you again Chuck, Thanks for everything." Logan says.

It feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest as he steps through the orange portal. In a flash he's at the TVA headquarters, standing in front of Wade.

"Peanut! There you are, oh I was worried sick." Wade jumps into his arms and Logan just drops him. Wade stands up and dusts himself off.

"We need to get you chipped or something. Maybe a bell to wear around your neck." Logan rolls his eyes and just follows the TVA agent in front of them.

"I went to a world where dogs could talk. What about you?" Wade asks as they're brought back home. Logan thinks for a moment. He sticks his hand in the pocket of his suit. His body freezing as he feels the soft petals of a flower.

"Hello? Earth to Wolvie? What having some emotional flashback to something only the readers know about?" Wade waves his hand in front of Logans face.

"I was thinking asshole." Logan shoves his hand away. Smiling as he tucks the flower deep in his pocket, deciding that he'll keep his adventure to himself for now.

"Anything you want to share with the class?" Wade asks. Logan just shakes his head.

"No, nothing worth mentioning."

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #worst!logan howlett x reader #worst logan #wolverine x reader #logan howlett angst

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xmalereader · 8 months ago

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Viktor Targaryen x Male Reader

☆ — MASTERLIST — ☆

SUMMARY: An AU regarding The house of dragons and arcane, Viktor is the second born child of King Targaryen and king to be, but Viktor doesn’t want the iron throne, nor does he want to stay in Dragonstone.

WARNINGS/CONTENT: Fluff, family history, no incest, sibling bonding, slight sexism and misogyny, Viktor is a good brother, OC dragon name, high valyrian, Viktors mother, mentions of Jayce, Piltover is a growing kingdom, short interaction with reader, non accurate GOT and HOTD lore.

WC: 2.0K

NOTES: I don’t know SHIT about game of throne or house of dragons 😅 but based on the little research I did and very few random episodes hopefully I am able to make this story make sense. It won’t really fit within the GOT universe so don’t judge me for the changes I will be making! But I just had to write this because Viktor just reminded me of the Targaryens due to the white hair when he was inside the arcane.

Viktor Targaryen was the second born child of King Targaryen, brother to Rhaenyra Targaryen. Only difference about him was that both siblings had a different mother, same father. Viktors mother was a commoner, a low life, as one would say and yet, she found a way to capture the kings heart. Rheanyra wasn’t too happy about her fathers marriage thinking that the women was only seducing her father in order to get her way only to realize that she was a very kind hearted women who wanted nothing to do with the Iron Throne.

When she fell pregnant with Rheanyra’s new baby brother she at first didn’t like the idea of having a brother, knowing that he would be the one to take over the throne and not her. Just as her father had promised her she knew that the promise would be broken the minute her brother would be born, being granted approval as the new future king.

Only Viktor never wanted the crown.

When Viktor got older he would remember hearing the murmurs of the council discussing on who would take over the throne after his father passes. Many in the council wanted Viktor to take over, but even he knew he wouldn’t be a proper king. His sister was perfect for the throne, he’s seen the way people bend to the knee for her, even their dragons bowed to her. She was the rightful heir, not him.

The first time the council called for him to take the throne he refused. It didn’t matter if he was the first born son, the crown wasn’t his and he wouldn’t take it away from someone who it did belong to. Things didn’t get better for Viktor, his father continued to grow ill and his own mother passed from the grey mist, air that poisoned her lungs until she could no longer breath anymore.

The council continued to push him to accept the crown and each time he rejected it.

Rhaenyra had noticed her brothers anger and was the one to approach him about it. Finding him out on the terrace where he overlooked their people, a frown on his face as the moonlight shined down upon them.

“You’re angry.”

He’s quiet when hearing her words.

Rhaenyra lets out a deep sigh through her nose. The two already knew where this was going, no matter how hard she tried the throne would never be given to her all because she was a women. A women that couldn’t lead a kingdom to peace, but Viktor knows that she can. He’s seen it in her.

“The council wants me to claim the iron throne. No matter how many times I refuse they will never stop.” Viktor finally says and looks over his shoulder to find his sister, looking at him with an upset expression of her own.

“They won’t stop until you sit on that throne.”

“I know that.”

Viktor never liked the idea of being a ruler. Yes, he wanted to help humanity without being needed anything in return. If he could do that he would, but the council would refuse him and expect him to follow along the traditions, keeping everything in balance for future generations.

His own father only spoke to the people whenever they entered their castle for help, he was never out in the streets and facing the reality of their suffering. Viktor had seen it, he had seen the terrible conditions his people lived in and no matter how much he wanted to help them he wouldn’t be able to without claiming the throne which would restrict him from doing things his own way.

Which is why he believes his own sister could be a better ruler then him. She would follow the traditions while also finding a way to help their people in her own ways.

“You should be on that throne, not me.” Viktor suddenly says, catching Rhaenyra by surprise as she approached him, standing by his side. His eyes locking with hers. “You’re the rightful heir to the iron throne, they may not see it but I do.” He’s heard the councils murmurs and distaste about the idea of her being the one to take over when both he and his father knew that she was the rightful one.

“You know they won’t allow it.”

“You’re right, they won’t.” He gentle takes her hand into his gloved one. “If I’m not here.” He sees the look of disbelief in his sisters eyes, he has thought about this for a very long time. The only way he’d be free from the crown is if he left, disappeared from this place that he once called home.

“You can’t leave, you’re my brother.”

“A brother who is holding their sister back from claiming what is rightfully theirs.”

Both siblings have grown close throughout the years that there were times where they were inseparable always attached to the hip and helping each other out. He was there when his sister first bared a child, the fear in her eyes when she refused help from the maids, afraid of facing a similar outcome as her mother. He was always there for her just as she was for him the day he lost his mother, watching as they tossed her coffin into the sea where the ocean waters claimed her as theirs.

But now, Viktor has to be the one to make the hard choices.

Rhaenyra is at lose for words, unable to say anything. She can see it in her brothers eyes that there is no way in convincing him to stay. So, she gives him a silent goodbye. Her forehead is pressed against his the two taking in their final moment together before Viktor pulls away first, giving her a sad smile.

“ēva īlon rhaenagon arlī.”

And with that final goodbye he leaves his sister.

Escaping into the dead of night he mounts his dragon, Xanthus, and takes off. Disappearing from his family line and being known as the ‘The Lost Child’.

Viktor had no idea where he was even going, he had no plan nor did he know anyone that he can ask for assistance. He couldn’t stay where his name was known nor could he be close to his own home.

So, Xanthus flew them out far.

Far from home and across the sea to a whole new world that Viktor didn’t know existed. Viktor didn’t think that he’d find a place meant for him until he stumbled upon an island called Piltover. It was rather small, but decent. The people there lived comfortably, but of course they had a council of their own and when Viktor first made an appearance with his dragon the place grew in panic, bells ringing in alert from his presence and causing the whole town to go into lockdown.

When Xanthus lands near the bridge that connected two different towns he was greeted with soldier wielding their weapons at him. The threat wasn’t taken lightly by Xanthus the large golden dragon ready to strike them down with a simple command that comes from his rider only it never came.

It wasn’t until a short man makes his way through the crowd of soldiers, hands behind his back as he stares up at Viktor and Xanthus. The man had a brightness in his eyes that somewhat eased Viktor.

“Magnificent beast.” The man didn’t seem scared of Xanthus which caught Viktor by surprise. Everyone back at home worshipped their dragons like gods, knowing how dangerous and powerful they can be and how impossible it was to kill a dragon.

The large beast releases a hiss towards the man. “Gīda.” He placed a hand on the dragons neck, providing soothing rubs as he calms the dragon down from doing anything harsh.

“Magnificent.” He hears the man repeat in awe which has Viktor chuckling, letting go of the reigns and sliding off his dragon who stood by him in a protective way, ready to attack in case anything were to happen to him. “Do you say that a lot?” Viktor asks with an arched brow which has the man chuckling a smile on his face.

“Only when I see something very interesting.”

Viktor can only smile at the mans cheerfulness finding it quiet odd since he’s never been around someone like him before. That was the first time he met Heimerdinger, head of the council of Piltover. When Viktor first met the council he was surprised by how many women were involved, something he’s never seen back at Dragonstone. They held their heads up high and spoke with confidence, intimidation radiating off of them when asking him where he came from and why he was here.

At first he didn’t know if providing his family name was a good idea, afraid of them alerting his family, but when they heard the name ‘Targaryen’ it was unknown to them. A sense of relief washed over Viktor and for the first time ever he felt free from the bonds that his family name carried.

Viktor was lucky enough to stay, getting the councils approval as long as he maintained his dragon from causing them any trouble. Which then resulted into Viktor finding them a home for themselves. Xanthus hated cramped spaces and never stayed underground like he did back at Dragonstone he always remained above ground where he knew he could easily defend himself without feeling trapped like his brothers and sisters did.

The time he spent in Piltover resulted into him learning about their history and becoming Heimerdingers pupil, learning from the shorter man and providing his own assistance. He’s seen what Piltover is doing to advance into their future, providing their people easier ways to travel and transport goods which Viktor helped with.

Viktor doesn’t know how long he spent living in Piltover that with time he befriend a man named Jayce who wanted to do so much for the future. Not only had he met Jayce, but he had also met a young man who worked alongside the council. He was the assistant to Council women Merdarda he had seen him around but never really spoke to him until he caught him once with Xanthus.

He usually checked up on his dragon, caring for him ever since he was a hatchling and tightening their bond everyday only to be surprised when Xanthus allows another human to approach him so easily. Most dragons wouldn’t listen to anyone unless its a Targaryen member and to see this with his own eyes made him rethink his families history.

“He likes you.”

The man gasps when hearing Viktor, pulling his hand away from the dragons scaly neck. Xanthus lets out a small rumble in the back of his throat, shifting to lie his head on the grass below him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—“

Viktor shakes his head. “It’s alright, he usually doesn’t allow anyone to approach him unless its me. It caught me by surprise that he allowed anyone else besides me to touch him.” His own gloved hand trails down the dragons neck, stepping closer to the man who swallows nervously.

“I was curious.”

“Your curiosity can get you hurt,” His eyes trail from Xanthus to the assistant. “Or killed.”

“I have a strange habit of approaching dangerous things without thinking twice.” His words causes Viktor to chuckle, blue eyes locking with the mans, his hand not leaving Xanthus neck it always brought him a sense of comfort.

“You’re Merdard’s assistant?”

The man gives a cocky grin. “I am.” He responds back. “You must be Heimerdingers?”

Viktors lip twitch into a smile when hearing his question being thrown back at him.

“I am.” He confirms his words which has the other nodding along. A silence falls between them before the other cuts it first.

“I never got your name.”

The Targaryen turns to look at him. “It’s Viktor.”

#male reader #arcane Viktor x male reader #arcane Viktor #Viktor x male reader #arcane x male reader #arcane #no spoilers #AU #game of thrones #GOT x male reader

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shadyr4m · 7 months ago

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REWATCHING SEASON 2 EPISODE 7 OF ARCANE

+ some of my highlights and notable moments that I enjoyed bc people can’t understand media anymore

This is mostly an infodump of stuff I can fit into a twitter thread/didn't rly want to make into a thread. I'm not great at words so I apologize in advance, I am sure there are many people much better at analysis than I.

I want to start off by saying I am heavily invested in timebomb so this is very much going to be a ship analysis. If you're looking for someone unbiased i am very much not the person for that 😭

FIRST OFF:

The disc on the music box is adorable!!! It features au Powder (who I am going to refer to as just Powder for the duration of my analysis) and au Ekko

Compared to the normal Disc

This is very obviously because it takes place in a different universe, one without Vi or "Jinx".

The first scene starts off with AU Ekko writing in his notebook. (Cute mention is Powder's doodle in his notebook!!) Then we see flashes of the wild rune. This is when AU Ekko switches to canon Ekko.

Also one of my favorite silly images from this episode is this one.. Powder is being so adorable and Ekko is just scared out of his MIND. it's so silly.

In the Last drop, Powder asks Ekko. "What is up with you? You've been out of it all day?". One thing I noticed in my rewatch is that i think Powder is aware this Ekko isn't HER Ekko. This is just one instance of many that makes me think this.

This hideout seems so much more vibrant and loved, similar to Jinx's hideout after Isha. It's colorful. There are guard rails that I like to think was pushed by Vander. We can see Ekko's art scattered around. It just shows how much more support and family Powder has compared to Jinx, which i mention a lot.

Id also like to note Ekko being shocked au him went to powder for help. In his mind at this time he believes Jinx to be all that is left, no more Powder. Through out the episode we see that change.

Notice how Powder gets upset at Ekko in this scene. However, she doesn't react explosively like Jinx would've. She handled it in a way that shows she had support. She told him to leave instead. Again, the main difference between Powder and Jinx isn't only Vi but also the existence of multiple support systems that Jinx simply didn't have.

THIS FLASHBACK! Oh my god this flashback. The fact it happened after he upset Powder? I think it shows just how much he truly cares about Jinx/Powder. He remembers VIVIDLY the day that he thought he killed her. Jinx was his childhood best friend, and I don't think that kind of feeling ever truly goes away. He doesn't want to hurt any version of her, not even the alternate universe her. We see that showcased more later on. Also, random probably insane note. He is interrupted by small children playing, having fun. This isn't a coincidence, it shows he does miss the moments from when they were kids.

While talking with Heimerdinger, we see Ekko look at Powder multiple times. Watching her laugh and be expressive, he smiles. When she doesn't return it we see him get upset. Once more this brings me to my point that he doesn't want to hurt her. Considering he hasn't known this Powder very long you can see where I gather my point that he doesn't want to hurt her in GENERAL. Any version of her.

THIS SCENE!! He is such a bad liar it's adorable. This brings me to my earlier point, Powder knows what's up!! She suspects something 100%. He is talking about this dream her like it was real.

"You aren't the kind of person who helps other people with their projects. Your ideas change the world. I can't shake the feeling that that's who you're supposed to be."

Are you LISTENING TO THIS? He is obviously talking about Jinx. You can tell this by the first sentence because obviously Powder IS that kind of person. He's starting to see that Jinx is just a part of Powder, one that is unavoidable and that he unknowingly appreciates in a sense. Like two sides of one coin he can't see Powder without Jinx and that is good. I think it is here he realizes truly just how much he cares about Jinx.

This whole montage is beautiful but I want to zero in on two things. Powder's reaction to the notebook and how she looks at Ekko after. NOW THIS. This is the nail in the coffin for her. She knows that this is not her Ekko. She has fully gathered that he isn't from this universe.

Also heimerdinger totally knows how Ekko feels you cannot tell me otherwise. Pushing him to go to the party? yeah he knows what you are.

THIS WHOLE SCENE. I AM NOT ANALYZING THE WHOLE THING HERE BUT IT IS GORGEOUS. I saw someone talking about how it was animated on 4's to signify the way Ekko can only go back 4 seconds and I honestly shed a tear. THE SONG TOO? I encourage everyone to look at the lyrics because they're beautiful.

Okay now for my favorite part of this episode so much to dissect and i'm totally going to mansplain but yk..

"I used to dream the undercity could be like this" — That sets the tone for the whole conversation and just what world he is talking about. The canon one.

"But somewhere, I got consumed by all the ways it wasn't. I gave up on it. Gave up on YOU." — Heavy emphasis on this line. Once more he is talking about Jinx. He is talking about how he got so consumed by the way that Jinx wasn't good, and he gave up on her. Believed she was irredeemable. Powder showed him that Jinx is capable of love and happiness, it's just under that tough protective shell. The undercity in the metaphor is Jinx, from my interpretation.

"I promise i'll never forget this." — Now time for my insanity. He doesn't forget this. That's why he saves Jinx from ending her life in the first place. He remembers Powder and knows that with the right support Jinx doesn't have to be the way she is. It's not that she "needs to be fixed" she just needs to be LOVED, like Powder. He sees that now. He sees how in the au the love that everyone shares for one another shaped the undercity beautifully, and made everyone in it much healthier mentally despite going through hardships. That is beautiful. People with mental illness are not unlovable they just need more support, it can't be cured, or fixed just healed. Mental illness is always there it is how you DEAL with it that matters.

Nothing too major to talk about with the kiss. It's sweet I love it, but nothing too notable for me to say about it.

Finally, Ekko leaves the au. I have seen people say that this is a sacrifice, he could've had everything he wanted and he gave it up to save the people at home. But i take insanity to another level. I see this as him appreciating his home. He knows he can never truly love this Powder because she isn't the version he fell in love with. He learned to appreciate Jinx even through her flaws, and that while this world has everything he could want and more he can have that home too.

I am experiencing HEAVY timebomb brainrot if you can’t already tell. I was tired of people taking things in the complete wrong way with this episode, if anyone has different views pls tell me I love hearing how other people took certain scenes. there are a few scenes I love but I would’ve made this post way too long..

#Jinx #powder #arcane #jinx arcane #episode 7 season 2 #arcane season 2 #ekko arcane #timebomb #ekkojinx #jinx and ekko #powder and ekko #analysis #episode analysis #insane ramblings #i’m going crazy #they make me ill #jinx is alive

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sherbertquake56 · 8 months ago

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okay I’m dropping some of my fable arcane au thoughts before the new episodes drop tomorrow even tho most of it is based on season 1 anyway—

so some basic taggings for you that I based the AU around:

1. Icarus as Jinx.

powder vs jinx is just the sherbert vs icarus name thing. toxic father. unhealthy relationship with sibling. a lil crazy and maybe evil. thinks that they are at fault for the things around them. lil bombs? nah- little SPLASH potions. hearing and seeing mylo and claggor? it’s Haley- it’s literally Haley—

2. Fable as Silco.

okay fable’s design WAS partially inspired by silco— they literally look the same— they’re both a man with two priorities: take over and make his own nation & care for child.

you know the ending scene of season 1? where they’re sitting at the table? THAT. With Jinx assuming that he’s gonna give her up to topside and him getting the first chance to talk and saying “her name is JINX!” i could write an essay on that for icarus. they’re so toxic and it’s so perfect. also that scene at the start of s2 ep2? YEAH THAT—

3. Centross as Ekko

This one is controversial and up to debate but i will die on this hill— SO THE S1 BRIDGE FIGHT. I am so willing to put aside any possible prison duo gay-ness in this AU for that rivalry/fight. they were friends!!! they were so good!! and now they wanna KILL EACH OTHER!! it’s great.

It’s also specifically thinking of Ekko’s tree home as solstice— older Ekko very much has the vibe of Violet specifically-

4. Arisanna as Sevika

I DONT KNOW WHY BUT IT MAKES SENSE TO ME. It’s specifically vexed Ari during the coworkers era but idk it just feels right— I look at her relationship with Silco and Jinx and go ‘hmmm this could be something’

[I will also say there is an argument here for swapping Centross and Ari tho— big tree city as Ari rebuilding the records goes hard, and angsty fighty toxic with jinx centross is also good— it’s like 50/50 for me]

5. Isla as Vander

LET ISLA BE A BADASS IN THIS AU. SHE DESERVES IT— something something raising vi and powder alone, something something the backstory with silco— there’s something there and it hits really hard in scenes where vi sees vander and helps her get back up— also I look at jinx and vander and I go “mmmm this is in fact how icarus sees Isla”

6. Rae as Vi

This was obvious given the above but LISTEN— in this ALTERNATE UNIVERSE OF EVENTS I think it would be fun- do I think that vi perfectly fits canon rae? no. But in this world it would KICK ASS. rae deserves to beat some people up— got kicked out of the overworld (zaun) by fable (silco) and had to go to the end (piltover) to get away from him?? rae end prince aus are already here so why not end rae also punching people huh??? also. gay people.

———

Okay— here’s where I need some help, thoughts, and opinions from you all…

1. Caitlyn.

POLYAMORY IS HARD TO TAG AND I DONT KNOW WHO FITS BEST?? For me, season 1 Caitlyn fits best as Caspian, but season 2 Caitlyn is more for Fenris— so I’m very stuck. yes absolutely give thoughts on this please—

2. Viktor as Aax (but how does that work)

Viktor absolutely should be Aax— mr. Scientist / lab experiment / turned religious figure vessel for god is CORRECT. But honestly the rest of Piltover gang is really hard with Rae as Vi— Jayce/Viktor/Mel is yelling at me to be the polycule but aGH— ya know??? very stuck on this so I instead look at the coworkers and go “mm good yes—”

Random other tags I think also make sense:

- Ulysses as that Telchin looking mf Stev— mans took out one lil medical device as his fish self and I said YUP

- The hexcore big orb thing underground as Quixis— big white glitch orb room make things go wack. couldn’t be easier than that.

———

Anyways that’s all— I’ve been rotating this in my mind for like a week and have had way too many thoughts about it thank you for your time—

#this was so long and I’m not even mad #it goes hard #season 1 specifically works so well #fable smp #arcane #fablesmp arcane au #icarus morningstar

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luka--lu · 6 months ago

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Anthropological and philosophical analysis of Viktor’s story in Season 2 - Part I

Finally gathered thoughts that floated in my mind since Season 2 had ended. These will literally be my first posts ever, will be a bit chaotic, please be kind, I’m shy. But also very critical.

I’ll preface this by saying that I’m not a person with a disability. I cannot claim to know this experience, because I simply don’t. I love Viktor as a character and it so happens he has a disability, it’s something I always consider when engaging with his story. Besides, his story revolves around his disability since S1 Act 2 and he kind of falls into the trope of ‘disability as character motivation’, but he’s much more than that. And that’s what I want to explore in these posts.

My analytical approach is obviously influenced by my experience as an able-bodied person. I’ve had extensive courses on disability studies while at university and focused my bachelor’s thesis partially on disability representation in media (I focused on scars and ‘deformities’, something many Arcane characters have, but that’s perhaps for another post). To people out there who have disabilities and wish to engage with this post - please let me know your thoughts, I’m genuinely trying to learn more.

I want to stress that in my analysis I’m not saying Viktor is entirely ruined as a character or is bad disability representation. I analyse his story from the perspective of philosophical, cultural and social contexts, and through disability studies theory. I’m not an expert and certainly can't speak on behalf of people with disabilities, I'm talking as an anthropologist and enjoyer of storytelling and art.

That being said, I’ll try to make it coherent and divided by topics, because these’ll be long posts. Some thoughts are a bit disjointed, I’ll be sharing some of my ideas for how Viktor’s arc could’ve been improved. Hopefully it makes sense as a whole.

TRANSHUMANISM & POSTHUMANISIM

Transhumanism as a philosophy and social movement originates from the notion that many people are forced to live worse lives than necessary and can’t reach their full potential. One of the most important thinkers of transhumanism Julian Huxley argued that application of science can prevent poverty, illness and change the world for the better. He literally wrote that ‘the man can manage evolution’.

Viktor represents transhumanist ideology in a way that, in Season 2, he literally can’t refuse the job - he was forced the moment Jayce fused him with the Hexcore. Sure, he could have refused to use its power now residing in his body. But the writers chose to disallow him that choice. So Viktor ‘heals’ Huck and begins his Jesus Era. Viktor later asks Singed if the doctor believes in fate, which is followed by Viktor declaring evolution has a course - superseding nature. This way Viktor exemplifies Huxley’s idea of what transhumanism is:

(...) whether he [man, as in human] is conscious of what he is doing or not, he is in point of fact determining the future direction of evolution (...). That is his inescapable destiny and the sooner he realizes it and starts believing in it, the better for all concerned. (Huxley, Transhumanism)

If the Hexcore was actually sentient and controlled Viktor, then I guess it’s the soul of Julian Huxley.

The same way Huxley's work was grounded in a desire to make the world a better place, so is Viktor’s. His dream of betterment of his people's lives was the primary motivation of Viktor’s character, but it got hijacked by the magical mumbo jumbo of the Hexcore and Arcane powers in S2. His transhumanist ideology wasn’t developed organically, the story just jumps to act 2 and then 3 without proper explanation as to why he turned to this philosophy so radically.

Important to add, Huxley was a eugenicist. Kinda wild to take transhumanist ideas and write Viktor’s, a disabled man’s arc, the way they did. Viktor wanted to use technology to change the world, but writers said: ‘hmm, what if… magic?? And eugenics! because he has internalised ableism now!’ But more on that later.

Central question regarding transhumanism is who decides what’s an enhancement and what’s a limitation. The short answer is: it’s a personal choice, we can use inventions to improve quality of life if we wish. Yes, some things can be a choice, but in reality it’s kind of compulsory, because the society is built in a way that demands conformity.

Viktor changed himself instead of trying to change the world the way he intended to in S1. His arc was derailed from his initial will to act for the society that needed positive change. Progress for Piltover meant technological advancement in the name of scientific and economic gain. In Viktor’s transhumanist vision progress is about extending the self - to live without suffering, to cure physical and mental afflictions of Zaunites. It goes beyond his motivation to cure his disease, his actions in S2 don’t fit his characterization in S1. This is why I believe inserting parts of his original League Lore into Arcane would have made an amazing story with transhumanism as background.

Good part of technology is that it gives us opportunities for different forms of embodiment. Embodiment, important in phenomenology and feminist studies, means how we experience ourselves as a living body that feels the world as we inhabit it - how we experience it in connection to us, simultaneously being influenced and influencing the world. There’re plenty of theories that tackle this concept, but let me go the short way.

Transhumanist philosophers talk at length about progress in relation to embodiment. Critics ask questions about the ethical side: who’s gonna get to use the technology to enhance themselves? What about people who can’t afford technology used for the enhancement? How will technology influence the embodiment of certain people? Specifically, what does this philosophy say about disability?

I will talk more about disability in another section, but transhumanists consider physical disabilities as something open to changes. Different technologies can be used as mobility aids, advanced procedures could help with improving the standard of life for people with disabilities.

But there still remains a question: what kinds of disability are considered in need of improvement? If technology changes a disabled person's body so they can function similar to able-bodied people, then is the category of 'disabled' even relevant anymore? Is there a definite line when it comes to influencing the body with technology? What kind of progress do transhumanists actually seek and for whom?

We don't hear Viktor’s stance on ideas similar to transhumanist ones until his talk with Singed, but it's a bit convoluted and isn't developed well enough to be an interesting take on a very controversial and fascinating philosophy that is transhumanism. It’s only indirectly addressed at the end by Old Man Jenkins Viktor when he says ‘There’s no prize to perfection, only an end to pursuit’, meaning that the glorious evolution doesn't really have a destination, even though Viktor believed so.

The change transhumanists seek can never actually reach a final perfect end - who and when will decide what the end of human evolution looks like? What is the ultimate, trans- or even posthuman form we’re supposed to achieve? Arcane seems to argue that nobody will ever be able to decide, even with godlike powers and knowledge.

Old Man Jenkins Viktor calls back to primary belief of posthumanism, which Nietzshe wrote about:

Man is not the effect of some special purpose, of a will, an end; nor is he an object of an attempt to attain an ‘ideal of humanity’ or ‘an ideal of happiness’ or an ‘ideal of morality’. It is absurd to wish to devolve one’s essence on some end or other. We have invented the concept of ‘end’: in reality there is no end. (Nietzshe, Twilight of the Idols)

Posthumanism is another philosophy that provides an interesting context for analysing Viktor’s arc in S2. I first focused on transhumanism since his story originally involved using technology to change lives. But Viktor seems to mix transhumanism and posthumanism.

Posthumanism is more about getting rid of core values of humanism. it’s about going beyond what makes humans, well, humans, which is a lot of things (biology, culture, economy, science, politics, environment, religion, social relations ect.). Posthumanism states that humans aren’t really that special, and argues that there are many other creatures and things that are equally as innovative as humans. It’s a philosophy critiquing anthropocentrism. It dismisses the notion of humans as apex creatures that can control and bend the world to their needs and will. The will to extend ourselves and find power within us isn’t exclusively a human trait - all organisms and things on Earth have that potential (interesting that in the destroyed Piltover Jayce saw the flora and fauna still expanded at the top of the Hexgates).

Viktor’s story isn’t really about that, but it ties to posthumanism when Viktor declares that emotions clash with reason, humanity is a contradiction which causes destruction, so there’s the need to go beyond humanism. Viktor’s ideas about human nature aren't really posthuman. His thought as he was dying after Jayce's attack revolved around the humanist idea that humans actually have an unchangeable essence.

Posthumanism, as understood by Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guatarri, states that there’s no essence of ‘humans’. There’s only the potentiality, which comes from an individual will to create oneself, apart from fixed rules of the world. Funny enough, Viktor speaks about similar ‘charge, potential, impulse', but I don’t think it’s in any way connected to Deleuze’s idea. The philosophy of Viktor in S2 seems all over the place with trans- and posthuman ideas underneath, but it's an interesting mix that I wanted to explore, even if only on surface level.

Deleuze is fucking difficult to understand, French philosophers are the demons that always kick my ass, but they had some good stuff to say. In Postscript on the Societies of Control Deleuze claims that society is made by machines, not only in technological sense, but also by different systems: social, political, economic, religious ect. Every system is a machine. In the case of Piltover and Zaun, the social and political machines categorize people and program them to inhabit certain identities and spaces. Human body is also a machine consisting of different anatomical systems. We are machines living in machines, the flow of information and experiences between us and the world is constant. In a way, even before Viktor tried to change everyone into machines, the world was already run by machines.

I also think that technological posthumanism is an amazing lens to analyse the usage of Hextech and its final destruction of the world in Arcane. Technological posthumanism states that humans use tools and technology as integral to our identity and functioning. Inventions are made by humans, but inventions also invent humans - we use tools, art, machines that extend us, that make us. Humans don’t make technology because they’re free and rational, rather they’re free and rational because they make technology.

Donna Haraway says we're already cyborgs, because tool-making and technology is always a part of our evolution - we incorporate the world into our bodies. We use tools, but according to posthumanism, tools use us in some sense, like a parasite. Interesting that Viktor becomes literally a mix of flesh and machine, influenced by the Hexcore.

Going further, posthumanist thinker Bernard Stiegler writes:

(...) the pursuit of the evolution of the living by other means than life - which is what the history of technics consists in, from the first flaked pebbles to today, a history that is also the history of humanity. (Stiegler, Technics and Time, 1)

Evolution's course is always directed by technology and tools. Stiegler asks: ‘Who’ or ‘what’ does the inventing? ‘Who’ or ‘what’ is invented?.

Jayce and Viktor invent Hextech. Piltover, City of Progress, is made by the development of Hextech. Hextech invents Piltover’s identity, makes its citizens and government free, rational, innovative and progressive, in opposition to Zaun, which supposedly lacks these traits. Is it really Viktor who causes the calamity in the end? Or is it Viktor and Jayce’s invention of Hextech that caused the end of Piltover? Was it humans using technology, or was it technology influencing humans? Technology can be human’s progression in evolution (as Viktor represented) but it can be the destruction of the world (as Jayce saw in the apocalyptic Piltover). There is no predestined essence or course, there is only the potentiality.

Viktor’s arc with the transhumanist/posthumanist Messiah plot fits a subgenre of these philosophies which states there’s a possibility of a Posthuman God. It means that humans, no longer limited by nature, flesh and emotions, will be able to grow into a god-like state of intelligence. It’s not about ascending to a literal god like Viktor did, but more about posthumans being so advanced and intelligent that modern-day humans wouldn’t be able to comprehend it. It is tied to Nietzshe’s Overman ideal, but that’s another long story.

Summing up, the writers butchered Viktor’s character and did something typical for the general transhumanist discourse. That our problems are technological, not political and social, it’s about science that changes our embodiment, and we need this change because the world is unfair. But why is it unfair? Too difficult of a question for the writers apparently… I'll be dissecting it further below.

* Interesting to add, transhumanists of today go as far as suggesting we’ll be able to upload our minds into computers/certain devices and this way live forever. Viktor sorta reminded me about that with his astral plane self. There was a movie with Johnny Depp with this idea, Transcendence. This movie is bad tho (*Wendy Williams voice* Guess who’s jealous of Viktor Arcane? … JOHNNY DEPP!)

DISABILITY

In The capacity of contract Stacy Clifford Simplican distinguishes two ways of thinking about disability: medical and social. Medical model means that people have a medical problem when we compare their state to fixed diagnostic norms. The social model is about how society creates disability by making the world adjusted to able-bodied people, while disability is an exception to the norm, an anomaly.

What the social model explains is that the problem isn’t the disabled person’s body, the problem is that they didn’t have a chance to design the world that would accommodate everybody. Medical model is appealing to able-bodied people because it allows them to dismiss their anxieties connected to disability and the possibility of acquiring it. People would have to then face the fact that society is actually unfair, so the medical model allows thinking there’s a distinct difference between able-bodied ‘normal’ people and persons with disabilities. There is ‘us’ (able-bodied) and the Other.

The idea of a cultural Other is key in various theories, especially in post-colonial critical theories, disability studies, social stigma theory ect. It basically means that the dominant group considers everyone who’s an outsider or lacks certain attributes essential to the group, as inherently different, oftentimes meaning lesser, therefore considered ‘other than us’. The Other needs to be distinctly alien to the normative group or culture. In case of people with disabilities the line marking the difference is located in their bodies.

In season 2 Viktor literally crossed the line (haha see what i did there) by rejecting his disabled body and changing into the Machine Herald. By rejecting his embodiment, he wished to fit into the ‘perfect’ embodiment represented by the people of Piltover. However, I consider Machine Herald Viktor as the epitome of what Piltover society considers as the Other. At the end of S2, for people of Piltover the line between what’s worth saving and what’s dangerous yet again locates itself in the body of the Other. The body that originated from the embodiment of the disabled Zaunite.

Viktor’s body is central to his character. We see his embodiment is an experience of pain, struggle, not only physical (he feels his body eroding) and emotional, but also social, he’s a Zaunite in Piltover. He’s double stigmatised as an undercitizen and a disabled person. Theory of stigma tells us that problems disabled people experience oftentimes aren’t connected to the disability itself but to the unequal, negative approach, harmful representations and institutionalised practices that cause the stigmatisation. It all reveals itself in ableism. One of the most important authors of disability studies, Rosemary Garland-Thompson wrote at length about these topics, notably in Extraordinary bodies. I’ll be referring to her work a lot in this post.

Viktor changed his body in S1 and then again in S2, he became Machine Herald, what he thinks is ‘the most he’s ever been’. But Piltover still thinks of him as the Other, a threat - and we know that in their worldview ‘Zaunites’ equals ‘danger’. And here’s the thing - ‘disabled’ is a position you get in a concrete socioeconomic context.

Viktor’s Jesus arc and commune activities focus on ‘fixing’ people and allowing them to live on the outskirts, away from the stigmatising society. Paradoxically, he fixed Zaunites to be able-bodied, like Piltover’s society accepts, but Zaunites can’t join that society, they’re still on the outside. Arguably, they’re trying to create an alternative for the stigmatising society, a new ‘Herald’s vision’. But why does this vision involve getting rid of disabilities?

‘Overcoming limitations’ isn't really about transforming the body. As Abigail Thorn said: ‘You're not gonna fix homelessness by turning homeless people into inspector Gadget’. Arcane S2 Viktor took the wrong angle on the whole ‘helping the Zaunites’ thing. The show for sure states that. And that makes me sad and mad because it’s just.. idk stupid? Viktor as he’s established in S1 is fiercely intelligent, has very strong morals and convictions. He acts recklessly and crosses ethical limits only when it comes to saving himself from literally dying. I don't see how he would go from ‘In pursuit of great we failed to do good’ to complete opposite and being SO misguided in act 2-3 in the 2nd season. They character assassinated him so hard it’s almost unbearable. Still love him, but gods, look how they massacred my boy. Anyway-

Viktor’s disability makes him significantly different from the rest of the cast - as Garland-Thompson wrote, the figure of Otherness is a result of interpreting and giving meaning to bodies. It gives categories and paradigms, which then give us identities. By making Viktor a person with disability the creators had the responsibility of understanding that their writing has real life consequences. Representation in art and media is a means of identification for real life people who relate to Viktor’s embodiment.

Disability is not only a physical state of being, a form of individual embodiment, but also an economic one. It’s true for Viktor - he self-described in S1 as ‘a poor cripple’, using the language of his oppressors, clearly to pinpoint how he’s perceived by the normative majority of Piltover. I’d argue this doesn’t tell us how he actually feels about his disability. We don't really get his thoughts on it. I see many people assuming he thinks of it as an imperfection from the start and point to S1 when he shies away from the spotlight and then more obviously in S2 Jayce basically confirms to the audience Viktor’s internalised ableism in The Speech.

But I’m not so convinced. Viktor in S1 strikes me as someone who hopes his work will talk for itself, so he doesn't crave the spotlight, but it absolutely could be argued that the reason he hides in shadows is to protect himself from the scrutiny of onlookers. It might be an argument for him thinking poorly about himself and Arcane is known for ‘show don't tell’, but I sort of… wish they told us?

Viktor talks about his disease and focuses on his incoming death, which is central to his character in S1 after act 1. Disability and actively dying are different things though, but in sociocultural contexts are often considered almost the same. It seems to me that the writers made such an assumption - treating Viktor’s leg and his disease interchangeably.

Viktor’s internalised ableism wasn't prominent, I'd say nonexistent, in S1, his focus was on preventing his death, not on getting rid of his disability. He experimented on his leg and tested its durability when running. Season 1 already established that it was the wrong choice (although the running scene is contradictory with its message because of the ‘victorious’ framing and music). Viktor changes his mind at the end of S1 and asks Jayce to destroy the Hexcore. Never, not once, in S1 Viktor declares that he wishes to help people of the Undercity with getting rid of disabilities or that he wants his own to go away. He only speaks about his general health deteriorating.

But then we get Jayce saying Viktor ‘always wanted to cure what he thought were weaknesses; his leg, his disease’. Um- no, not true? Viktor always wanted to invent things to make a change for the disenfranchised. He couldn't do so because of his terminal illness and Piltover’s politicians not giving a damn about Zaunites. We don't know how he feels about his disability apart from recognising it as a part of his social status as a Zaunite in Piltover. We get the scene when as a child he shows Singed his leg, meaning he can’t play with kids and is lonely. This could mean he’s either shunned or can't access places where kids play. That's an issue of accessibility and how disability is created by alienating disabled people. It’s not enough proof to argue that Viktor dislikes his disability to the point of wishing to fix it when he becomes an adult.

I argue that Viktor’s internalised ableism was forced onto him by the writers. This way they put the responsibility of dealing with ableism on the disabled individual instead of asking the real question: why is Viktor experiencing ableism in the first place? Why is it Viktor who has to bear the burden of injustice and feel bad about himself? Apart from the positive sentiment of ‘disability is a part of humanity and doesn’t mean you’re broken’, the message of the ending seems to be: 'it's sad you feel bad about yourself, you need to hear you’re valid and get over your internalised ableism or you’ll doom everybody, but we won’t be addressing systemic oppression you'd experienced'.

The feminist, lesbian, poet, mother, warrior and an icon Audre Lorde pointed out the issues that stigmatised people face, especially having to be representatives of their marginalised position, having to use their intellectual and emotional labor to address oppression. I can’t agree that Viktor taking on the labor of realising his internalised ableism thanks to Jayce’s Speech is amazing writing. His humanity was denied by the oppressors so much he ended up rejecting it all together? The framing of Viktor’s motivation after becoming Machine Herald is extremely detached from his original character’s. I can’t- it seems like they made him self-loath and cause harm just because the final battle would look cool?

I like Arcane’s message that erasing disability is like erasing humanity and love wins in the end. But it's so naive, because it’s done at the cost of the disabled character’s entire arc and positions him as the villain to a society of mostly able-bodied people. I don't vibe with that writing choice. If the writers had the guts and we didn't live in capitalism, maybe we’d get more seasons and something truly revolutionary.

Feminist scholars pointed out how people’s standpoints shape politics, how identity, personhood and body are cultural constructs that need to be questioned. Standpoint theory suggests that representation is always a political act and thus disability representation needs to be treated as such. I don't think Linke and others thought about it this way while writing Viktor. They created a great character though, so allow me to open my ao3 tab and look up canon divergent fics.

Because of Viktor’s arc in S2 becoming about having his autonomy revoked and his supposed internalised ableism, we unfortunately got an interpretation that Garland-Thomson notes as widely accepted - that physical disability is a part of lower social status and a personal tragedy. We could have had Viktor as a transformative example of a physically disabled person who exposes social institutions of power and questions the notion of othering as a rule that permeates the Zaun-Piltover conflict. For that to happen, it wouldn't be Jayce who affirmed Viktor as valid - it would be Viktor affirming himself.

And we know he had the capacity to do that. In S1 act 1 he’s self-confident and we know he got to Piltover thanks to his intellect and resilience. Why would he lose these parts of himself so radically in S2? I understand that he was severely depressed and dying, that did change his perception of self when his health deteriorated. Yet, I believe in S2 the acceptance Jayce talks about could have come from Viktor seeing his own value. Garland-Thomson calls it 'speaking with one’s voice’. To be seen and accepted means having autonomy and possibility to speak about our embodiment with other people. We don't get to see/hear Viktor do that. He speaks of his mortality and deteriorating body in the context of disease, not disability. And he doesn’t really react to Jayce’s Speech.

If the creators wanted a really empowering story about a disabled character, they needed to address that. According to Garland-Thomson, the body is a text that needs interpretation by their owners. Giving meaning to his body, affirming it (maybe choosing to change it only to stop himself from dying) would mean that Viktor frees himself from symbolic and systemic violence, and rebels against fantasies and anxiety projected onto him by the normative society. That would have been based as fuck.

I ship JayVik, but it doesn't mean The Speech is all fine. Jayce might understand some of Viktor’s struggles but he’ll never understand him fully. It’s true that Jayce experienced horrors beyond comprehension, saw how his dream destroyed the world, he starved, had to reflect on his decisions sitting in a dark cave and injured his leg. Him acquiring a disability to parallel Viktor is a very important moment, yet it’s not the same as knowing Viktor’s experience of embodiment.

Jayce didn't live with a disability all his life in the society that considered it as something inferior. Jayce didn't live with despair and desperation of struggling to prevent himself from dying of an illness caused by the actions of an oppressive state. Jayce’s speech is emotional and important for his relationship with Viktor, and I did get teary eyed when he expressed how much he adored Viktor. But they lost me with ‘fix weaknesses, your leg, disease, and there’s beauty in imperfections’.

The Speech is sweet on the surface level but it rubbed me the wrong way, because not only it didn't make sense with Viktor’s arc, but it also feels weird to say that disability and terminal illness are an imperfection in which there's beauty. Imperfection is a tad insensitive of a term in this context... Having Jayce - who was more privileged socially, essentially able-bodied all his life and acquired his disability only recently - say this to Viktor, is kind of an odd choice. I do see what they’re trying to say: such experiences shape us but they don't define us. That Jayce loved Viktor as a whole human being with every part as integral to who he is.

At the end Jayce frees Viktor from his loneliness. Lovely stuff and I like it on a personal level, altho the Speech was poorly worded. Narratively, it tells me that the disabled character needed another person to say he was all he needed to be from the start. But it ignores the social context of why Viktor was lonely. Jayce's speech shifts focus from systemic oppression and inaccessibility to interpersonal connection he had with Viktor and the emotional side of it. It's possible to both establish a loving bond and acknowledge the discrimination Viktor experienced. But that didn’t happen in the story.

Viktor’s actions as written in S2 seem to stem from an immense need for acceptance and a wish not to be lonely. Of course he has Jayce in the end. My JayVik side is kicking its feet in the air and giggling, but when I look at it from a representation perspective it's kind of bad. Jayce is after all a privileged man who has never experienced life long marginalisation, chronic pain and despair of accepting his death when there's so much work to do for a good cause. And he might have understood how lonely Viktor was, how Jayce neglected his partner but still, Jayce cannot fully get it if it's not his lived experience.

Viktor is defined by his body by the unfair society he exists in and it's impossible for him to ignore it, because that's what shapes him every day. It's understandable he’d want to be healthy but I dislike the ‘Magic Cure for disability’ trope they went with in S2 when Viktor merged with the Hexcore. The trope is widely considered regressive and even harmful when it comes to nuanced disability representation. Viktor's case isn't as obvious, so I'm not trying to pass any finite judgement here. But I generally don't vibe with it.

I wish we knew if there were people with disabilities or sensitivity readers at any stage of the creative process of making Arcane.

I’ll be referring to the topic of Viktor’s disability in other sections of my posts, so it’s not really the end of this subject.

THE RADICAL OTHER

As I wrote earlier, the concept of the Other is extremely important in anthropology. There’s a more expanded and emancipatory theory that I'd like to touch upon - the concept of Radical Otherness.

In itself, this concept is disruptive. When we’re faced with the Radical Other, we’re confused. We cannot relate to them, cannot ignore them, our predisposed opinions and structures of understanding are being postponed. It creates a cognitive dissonance, forces us to change perspective, create space for the Other and look for Otherness in ourselves. It can also cause bigger fear and cause us to alienate the Other even further than we initially did.

Experiencing Otherness touches our bodies and senses without us having prior notice of it. This experience disturbs us, it calls on us, it asks us to respond and to react. German philosopher, Bernhard Waldenfels writes in Bodily experience between selfhood and otherness that people usually either welcome the Other as a guest or exclude the Other as an enemy. The Other is always transformed in a way that the normative society has disposal over them or they're available for the society's intentions. Radical Otherness, according to Waldenfels, is not available to anyone.

Viktor's disabled body is turned into a grotesque fusion of flesh and metal, then into an alien-like creature, not a cyborg which would be more in sync with transhumanist ideas of technological augmentation of the human body. The way Viktor looks in his god-like form is aesthetic but foreign.

What it means for disability visual representation is that Viktor either reinforces or rejects the sociopolitical relations that make the disability a kind of Otherness.

Interpreting Viktor the Machine Herald as rejecting oppressive notions, I’d say he symbolises what’s rebellious, exposing injustice and disrupting social order. He left Piltover behind and came back to cause a radical reinterpretation of the world. He looks absolutely different, strange, magical - and we know people of Piltover fear magic. But because he’s the villain and dies at the end, I'm more inclined to say the writers meant to show his transformation as a symbol of unpredictability, lack of stabilization, anarchy - and that’s both dangerous and brave.

Viktor as Machine Herald can be read as embodiment of personal freedom by rejection of cultural uniformisation. But if it were to be true, he should have rejected conformity while still disabled or at least not transform with Singed’s alchemy. By the time we reach the last episode his arc is a story of Piltover having to tame 'the freak’ as Garland-Thomson would describe it.

The freakiness of Machine Herald’s form is also an interesting choice, because it’s somewhat humanoid but unnatural. It reminds me of the practice of freak shows where people with unusual bodies and disabilities were displayed as freaks of nature, odd creatures. Able-bodied audience gawked at them and while looking in the face of the Others, they’d re-establish themselves as ‘the normal ones’. I hope you catch my drift and see how this is not a good look to have Viktor morph into an alien looking creature that all of Piltover fights in the end…

If I try to find positives in S2’s writing, I can speculate that Viktor becoming the Radical Other in an empowering sense would mean that he embodied an alternative to the status quo. Him leaving and in sense rebelling against domination of Piltover wouldn’t be an intellectual choice but a manifestation of his condition as a person. In this interpretation, his transformation is radical, it’s a positive marker of his individual story.

It’s still a story of oppression though - our Viktor doesn't save himself, Jayce does it for him. I’m not gonna be talking about Old Man Jenkins Viktor orchestrating everything to save himself by having Jayce sent on a mission to save main timeline Viktor. I’m focusing on the Viktor we got to know in S1. It’s beautiful to be seen and supported, the scene at the end was so loving and my AroAce ass relished it. I love JayVik, yeah, though I think the message of Viktor’s arc being so centered on Jayce’s affirmation of him made the message a bit less complex. They’re soulmates, your honor, but they’re so codependent it’s really toxic yaoi.

Jokes aside, it would be amazing if Viktor chose to become the radical Other. He’d make an autonomous decision to use his status of the Other as the ultimate ‘fuck you’ to the system. The system that overlooked him and prescribed him the identity of an undercitizen, ‘an outsider looking in’.

His arc would be even more profound if he recognised his internalised ableism and chose to become the Machine Herald the way he did in the League Lore. In League, his practices aren’t entirely ethical either, but that's besides the point. His decisions were made out of dissatisfaction with Piltover’s corrupt academia and politics, and the moral duty he felt to aid his fellow Zaunites in the face of calamities and everyday hardships. The old LOL Viktor is actually iconic for that.

The Arcane version of the Divorce arc could’ve made JayVik more complex if they let Viktor express disappointment with Jayce’s decision to weaponize Hextech and Council’s lack of interest in the Undercity’s issues. Then the 'our paths diverged long ago' would be more inpactful.

The character arc is a mess but I tried to reach and look for sth more interesting within it. I think the Radical Otherness of Machine Herald is a compelling angle. Not what writers intended, for sure not, I don’t think they taught anything through that deeply.

ENDING PART I...

I think it all could have been more interesting if Viktor wasn't influenced by Hexcore as we’re led to believe, because… this is cheap writing and yet again takes away his autonomy, which he was denied far too much in S2. The magical stuff took away from Viktor’s character and lost focus of his actual motivation.

I think what we got isn’t good enough, but I appreciate bits that can be read as more meaningful, that's where my idea for this 'essay' came from. I just wish the writers had the guts to let Viktor be angry, come back to Zaun, not do the cult stuff and just help people, join the rebellion, basically tell the Pilties: ‘I hope I confuse the hell out of you’.

That’s it for the first part of this analysis. Part 2 coming soon i guess. (Edit: Second paaaart here)

literally me writing this fucking dissertation:

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cyanide-mustard · 7 months ago

Text

I don't have the words to describe (how much you mean to me) Chapter 1

Also on Ao3

One day a portal opens in Jayce and Viktor's lab and the pair becomes a trio.

A young woman falls through a portal into the Arcane universe. Bad news number one is she can't get back. Bad news number two is that she doesn't speak any of the languages in the Arcane universe. The good news is that Jayce and Viktor take her in while she learns Piltovan

Here's the link if you want to read it on Ao3 instead

“Jayce”

“Yeah Vitya?” Jayce answers while keeping his eyes down the project he’s currently tinkering on.

“Correct me if I am wrong but that glowing portal is not one of ours, is it?”

“What are y-” He stops mid sentence as his eyes follow where his partners are currently fixed on. A blue hue starts to fill the room as items all around them start to lift a little off the ground. Jayce himself starts to float out of his chair. He looks over at Viktor who wears a nervous and slightly curious furrow to his brow. Just as he is about to open his mouth a low buzz begins to emanate from the portal. Jayce and Viktor look at each other, more nervous than before as the buzzing grows louder into a full scream. The blue glow seems to burn brighter as both the men turn their heads and cover their eyes. Just as the portal seemed to border on all consuming to the senses, it stopped.

It took a second to adjust their eyes back to the slightly darkened room in the evening sun. But no screaming and blue light seemed like a win. Once their eyes finally adjusted, they looked at where the portal once was and now stood nothing. Jayce was the first to break the silence.

“What do you think that was?”

“I have not a single clue”

“𝝸𝝺𝝠 𝞔𝝺𝜓 𝝇𝞒𝝃𝝥 𝜩𝞀𝜓 𝞾𝝠𝞒 𝜩𝞖𝛴 𝝸𝝺𝜓𝞀𝜓 𝜩𝞀𝜓 𝝇𝞒𝝃𝝥 𝜩𝟇 𝛃!”

In their determined focus on where the portal used to be, the two men failed to notice the young woman standing on the other side of the room. The woman took deep heaving breaths, holding a screwdriver that once laid on Viktor’s work table, arms holding it straight out despite small trembles that seemed to go through her entire body. Her eyes focused on Jayce and Viktor, trying to hold onto an air of intimidation, but behind that thin layer, was a papitable sense of fear.

She spoke again, her voice quieter than the previous time but with a sharper edge.“𝝸𝝺𝝠 𝜩𝞀𝜓 𝞾𝝠𝞒 𝜩𝞖𝛴 𝝸𝝺𝜓𝞀𝜓 𝜩𝟇 𝛃?”

“Woah, put down the screwdriver. We aren’t gonna hurt you” Jayce slowly moved towards the woman with his hands in the air. As Jayce progressed forward, the woman pointed the screwdriver towards Jayce but only moved backwards, her body curling into itself as if to make herself smaller and less vulnerable. Her ripped clothes, lack of shoewear and trembling only made her look like a cornered bunny.

“Jayce wait a minute” Jayce stopped moving towards the woman as Viktor moved to grab the blanket that resided in the lab, one used during many late nights, where the men couldn’t find the energy to walk home. He walked closer, blanket in one hand, his cane in the other, which reminded him to keep a steady slow pace to prevent the woman from bolting. As he moved closer to the woman he raised his hand holding the blanket for the woman to take. She looked at him with apprehension before slightly lowering the arm holding the screwdriver and snatching the blanket from him. Jayce and Vitkor both took a couple steps back, enough space so the woman wouldn't feel trapped, as she wrapped the blanket around herself. She still held the screwdriver tightly but no longer at arms length, now instead by her side.

“𝝸𝝺𝜩𝞔 𝛃𝞏 𝝺𝜩𝝮𝝮𝜓𝞖𝛃𝞖𝝋?” she spoke again in a soft voice this time, nervous but no longer shaking with the same fear she once was.

Viktor and Jayce looked at each other.

“I don’t think she speaks Piltovian” Jayce was the first to speak

They looked back at the woman who seemed to be coming to the same realization as the two men.

“𝞾𝝠𝞒 𝛴𝝠𝞖’𝞔 𝞏𝝮𝜓𝜩𝝥 𝜓𝞖𝝋𝟄𝛃𝞏𝝺? Parlez-vous Français? 한국어?”

She seemed to be rattling off a list, looking for the correct answer on the two men’s faces, becoming more frantic every time there was no reaction from the two. They realised that she was speaking different languages. She even started moving her hands in a way that looked like something beyond just gestures and more like an organized sequence of meanings. Jayce and Viktor felt like they were back to their teenage years and just received a test they didn’t study for. Every answer, their silence, was a wrong answer, but the disappointment and desperation on the women’s face was worse than any bad mark the two could’ve ever received. Once she seemed to be done the list she yelled out “𝝇𝞒𝝃𝝥!!!” and sank to the floor.

“𝛃 𝝥𝞖𝝠𝝸 8 𝟄𝜩𝞖𝝋𝜩𝜓𝞏 𝜩𝞖𝛴 𝞖𝝠𝞖𝜓 𝝠𝝇 𝞔𝝺𝜓𝟇 𝜩𝜓𝞀 𝞒𝞏𝜓𝝇𝞒𝟄 𝞔𝝠 𝟇𝜓 𝞖𝝠𝝸” She mumbled under breath.

A moment later, Viktor moved to the floor and sat beside the woman, she lifted her head to him, eyes red with tears starting to form in the corners. Viktor’s preferred method of comforting others was not by touching them. He preferred to speak to them and soothe them that way, however given that he seemed to be unable to communicate verbally to the woman in a way she would understand, he decided to take a page out of Jayce’s book. He wrapped a hesitant arm around her shoulder, nervous she might be upset by his gesture, but she accepted it and leaned her head against his shoulder as she took deep calming breaths.

She lifted her head, calmer now as she spoke. “𝞔𝝺𝜩𝞖𝝥 𝞾𝝠𝞒” she bowed her head slightly to Viktor.

He seemed to understand she was thanking him then.

In the midst of all this Jayce, took the opportunity to grab a glass of water and snacks he kept in his desk for times he was hungry but couldn’t break away from his work. He moved closer to the pair on the floor, heart breaking at the lost look on the woman’s face. He offered the woman the glass of water and snacks, which she looked at cautiously, almost like she thought it was poisoned. In response, Jayce took a sip of the water and took one of the crackers into his mouth before putting them on the floor in front of her and giving a big thumbs up. She let out a small giggle at seeing his goofy display. Both men softened at her reaction. As she ate and drank a bit, the two men seemed to be having a conversation with their eyes.

When you work together as much as they do, your brain starts to be in sync with the other. They contemplated their next steps. If they alerted anyone else about her it was likely that she’d be locked up somewhere given that she couldn’t communicate where she’d come from and she’d most likely be seen as a threat given that she came through a portal. The two men could tell from their short time with her that she wasn’t a threat, merely a frightened and lost woman, not where she should be. However others might not see it that way. They decided that they would take her in until they could get across the language barrier or keep her safe.

Before they could continue their “discussion” any further, the woman cleared her throat and pointed at herself.

“𝝣𝜩𝟇𝜓𝞏” she said, both men wore a furrowed brow. She repeated herself “𝝣𝜩𝟇𝜓𝞏”

Realization came to the two men that she was saying her name.

Jayce repeated after her “Jaybs?”

“𝞖𝝠,𝞖𝝠𝞔 𝞈𝞒𝛃𝞔𝜓” She laughed softly “𝝣𝜩𝟇𝜓𝞏”

“James?” He repeated again

“𝞾𝜓𝞏!” She exclaimed.

“Your name is James” Viktor tried as well, leading to a big grin making its way onto her face.

“𝟇𝞾 𝞖𝜩𝟇𝜓 𝛃𝞏 𝝣𝜩𝟇𝜓𝞏”

She then pointed her finger at Viktor with a questioning expression on her face. “𝝸𝝺𝜩𝞔 𝛃𝞏 𝞾𝝠𝞒𝞀 𝞖𝜩𝟇𝜓?”

“My name is Viktor”

“Name is 𝞃ik𝞔or?”

“Viktor”

Satisfied with her pronunciation, she turned to Jayce and asked the same thing

“Jayce”

“Ja𝞾ce𝞒”

“Jayce” he repeated again

“Jayce”

The boys seemed stuck on what to do next, thankfully James seemed to have more of an idea of what to do next. She stood abruptly, dashing over to Viktor’s desk, searching for something. She wasn’t calm but she was kind enough to not displace any of the objects on his desk in her search. She slowed when she found a pen but didn’t stop. Viktor walked over sensing what she was looking for next. He pressed a small hidden button on his cane which revealed a small hidden compartment. He reached in and held a small key in between his fingers. He placed the key in the lock on the bottom draw. As he pulled the drawer open Jayce’s eyes widened.

“You’ve been hiding new notebooks in here the whole time!”

Viktor reached for the notebook at the top of the pile and gently passed it to James. Viktor looked a little sheepish.

“You go through 5 notebooks a week, if I had let you into my stash it would not be a stash for long and I would being going out to get new notebook books every week like you”

“Jayce, Viktor” a firm voice spoke out beside them. While the two were going back and forth, James had drawn out a picture in the notebook. She presented it to the two.

“A library…?” Viktor looked up at her, “Why would you want to go there?”

“Library” James repeated after him. She then tapped her notebook and passed Viktor the pen. Confused on what to do next, she rolled her eyes and gestured for him to write on the page. He obliged.

“We can’t take her there now, the library is closed” Jayce looked out at mid summer darkening sky. “Even if it was open, she’s too noticeable with what she’s wearing”

At that moment James seemed to become aware that her less than put together appearance might draw some attention.

Jayce sighed before speaking “We’ll take her back to our house, I’ll go tomorrow morning to see if Caitlyn has any clothes that she can borrow, and then we’ll take her to the library”

James’ face lit up at hearing the word library. “Library 𝞔𝝠𝛴𝜩𝞾?”

Viktor began drawing their plan. He drew a stick figure in a house under the moon and another drawing of the sun out and them at the library.

Realisation made its way onto her face followed by a smile. “𝜩𝝺𝝺𝝺 Library 𝞔𝝠𝟇𝝠𝞀𝞀𝝠𝝸!”

Jayce grabbed the blanket dropped in James’ search for stationary and placed it on her shoulders.

“𝞔𝝺𝜩𝞖𝝥 𝞾𝝠𝞒” She said softly.

He felt a slight blush crawl up his neck as he turned around and finished packing his bag.

While James and Viktor stood waiting for Jayce, she passed him her notebook and pen once more and pointed to the first picture he drew.

“𝝸𝝺𝜩𝞔?” She asked

“What is it?”

She nodded

“House”

“h𝝠us𝜓”

“House”

“House

He wrote the word down underneath, as she then did the same but in her language.

Just as she finished writing, Jayce walked up beside them. They proceeded to walk home under the cover of night.

Translations:

who the fuck are you and where the fuck am I? = 𝝸𝝺𝝠 𝞔𝝺𝜓 𝝇𝞒𝝃𝝥 𝜩𝞀𝜓 𝞾𝝠𝞒 𝜩𝞖𝛴 𝝸𝝺𝜓𝞀𝜓 𝜩𝞀𝜓 𝝇𝞒𝝃𝝥 𝜩𝟇 𝛃!?, who are you and where am I? = 𝝸𝝺𝝠 𝜩𝞀𝜓 𝞾𝝠𝞒 𝜩𝞖𝛴 𝝸𝝺𝜓𝞀𝜓 𝜩𝟇 𝛃?, What is happening? = 𝝸𝝺𝜩𝞔 𝛃𝞏 𝝺𝜩𝝮𝝮𝜓𝞖𝛃𝞖𝝋?, You don’t speak English? What about French? Korean? = 𝞾𝝠𝞒 𝛴𝝠𝞖’𝞔 𝞏𝝮𝜓𝜩𝝥 𝜓𝞖𝝋𝟄𝛃𝞏𝝺? Parlez-vous Français? 한국어?, Fuck =𝝇𝞒𝝃𝝥, I know 8 languages and none of them are useful to me now = 𝛃 𝝥𝞖𝝠𝝸 8 𝟄𝜩𝞖𝝋𝜩𝜓𝞏 𝜩𝞖𝛴 𝞖𝝠𝞖𝜓 𝝠𝝇 𝞔𝝺𝜓𝟇 𝜩𝜓𝞀 𝞒𝞏𝜓𝝇𝞒𝟄 𝞔𝝠 𝟇𝜓 𝞖𝝠𝝸, Thank you = 𝞔𝝺𝜩𝞖𝝥 𝞾𝝠𝞒, James = 𝝣𝜩𝟇𝜓𝞏, No, not quite = 𝞖𝝠,𝞖𝝠𝞔 𝞈𝞒𝛃𝞔𝜓, Yes = 𝞾𝜓𝞏, My name is James = 𝟇𝞾 𝞖𝜩𝟇𝜓 𝛃𝞏 𝝣𝜩𝟇𝜓𝞏, What is your name? = 𝝸𝝺𝜩𝞔 𝛃𝞏 𝞾𝝠𝞒𝞀 𝞖𝜩𝟇𝜓?, Today = 𝞔𝝠𝛴𝜩𝞾, Ahhh = 𝜩𝝺𝝺𝝺, Tomorrow = 𝞔𝝠𝟇𝝠𝞀𝞀𝝠𝝸, What = 𝝸𝝺𝜩𝞔, House = 𝝺𝝠𝞒𝞏𝜓

#arcance #jayvik #jayce x viktor #arcane jayce #jayce arcane #vitkor #viktor arcane #reader insert #oc #original female character #jayce x reader #viktor x reader #jayce x reader x vitkor #jayce x viktor x reader

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