#bottom viktor

[neuvilletteswife]

Viktor in Arcane is a sub and no one can change my mind.

[thisisanerror]

his knees hurt :(

[machineheraldbabe]

pov: you're a viktor arcane fan in 2024 trying to live off "crumbs"

[bringthekaos]

Please, pleas consider an AU where Jayce tries to reject the council seat like maybe he says that he'll only take a seat if Viktor also has one,, and obvs there are 2 options either they say no and Jayvik can fuck off and do science in peace (i am in denial abt the up coming divorce) or they say yes and they both kinda suffer this time together edition!

Ugh, honestly option 1 would have solved so much… Jayce would have been spending more time in the lab, and they would have been channeling their collective energies into creating instead of solving trade disputes and Hexgate security issues. One of the main arguments they had was that Viktor thought they weren’t doing enough to use Hextech to help the people of the Undercity, and the reason for this was because Jayce was having to put all his energy into being a counselor. Jayce also would have noticed Viktor’s failing health a lot sooner, and likely also noticed how reckless he was being with the Hexcore, possibly avoiding the Sky situation entirely.

But option 2??? Oh my god, Viktor would have absolutely despised being a counselor�� he would have been miserable and angry and bitter. I think he would have lasted a week tops dealing with their bureaucracy before he snapped and went full gremlin mode—letting loose a fully unhinged ten minute rant laden with the foulest language he can muster in two languages, leading to him (probably both of them) being censured and removed from the council. And possibly thrown in jail, haha.

But up until then, they might actually get some shit done with the council?? Like, yeah Viktor would have hated it (Jayce obv hated it too, but he sucked it up and tried to do his best), but with Viktor’s steadfast commitment to helping people and Jayce’s ability to turn that into a speech/presentation those bureaucrats would actually listen to? Damn, fucking power couple. Zaun may have had its independence much, much sooner, avoiding Silco’s entire campaign and Jinx’s extreme measures.

Ugh, what could have been…

[yaoiconnoisseur]

Please don’t ban me tumblr, it’s literally just nipples ;-;

[ For the YOTW 2023 Pride Celebration event prompt Discovering Kinks ]

[cheeriecherrymain]

The Bottom Of The Inkwell - Masterlist

The Bottom Of The Inkwell - Childhood Friends|Long-Distance Friends/Penpals|Falling In Love With The Same Person Twice|Magic Pens|Classmates To Lovers|Fluff|Hurt/Comfort|Smut

                                                          ~~~

Chapter One - Rated T -  On your thirteenth birthday, you sneak away from home so you can wander around Piltover by yourself. You find a very unusual shop, full of very unusual items - one of which you take home, and discover it has an incredible ability.

Chapter Two - Rated T -  Your friendship with V develops, despite the great differences in your lives, and as the years progress, your feelings morph into something deeper.

Chapter Three - Rated T - You and V begin your new semester at the academy together - you’re still anonymous to each other, even though you’re pretty certain you share a professor. In your class, you get assigned a semester-long partner, Viktor, and you don’t think he likes you very much.

Chapter Four - Rated T - Your classes begin to get stressful, and Viktor does not make it easier on you. However, you finally convince him to meet up outside of class, and you strike a deal with him.

Chapter Five - Rated T - Your relationship with Viktor progresses to a point that you might even call each other friends. Even though you spend a lot of your time arguing with each other. But there comes a time where you both need to be honest about how you’re feeling.

Chapter Six - Rated T - You and Viktor grow closer as you work together - so close that you consider each other friends. On the flipside, you feel like V is growing distant, though you chalk it up to the busyness of your schedules. You decide to invite Viktor home for the weekend, mostly because you have the tools you need in your workshop - but maybe also because you want to spend time with him.

Chapter Seven - Rated T - You have a nice conversation with your mother, which immediately turns sour when she tries to get you and Viktor to attend the winter gala together. Later, V finally lets you know that he wants to meet you, and it causes more anxiety than you thought would.

Chapter Eight - Rated T - You accidentally offend Viktor in the aftermath of kissing him. You have another heart-to-heart with your mother, though it doesn’t seem to help much, because in the following days, you can’t sleep. And then you’re hit with the worst news of your life.

Chapter Nine - Rated T - Your life feels like it’s being uprooted, and you’re not coping well. Thankfully, Viktor is there for you, with his kind words and comforting presence.

Chapter Ten - Rated T - You finally go to see your father in the hospital, with the help of Viktor.

Chapter Eleven - Rated T - You and Viktor wake up together, and talk a little more about the upcoming gala.

Chapter Twelve - Rated T - You have a chat with your mom, who admits that she wants to dress you and your boyfriend up all fancy. Later, Viktor makes you a little hot under the collar, and you silently stress about it.

Chapter Thirteen - Rated T - You wake up alone, and your emotions are high. You and Viktor decide to take the day off instead of working, and wander around the winter market. Except you receive some incredibly upsetting news while you’re there.

Chapter Fourteen - Rated T - You go for a walk in the middle of the night, and the next day, you and Viktor have a big talk about your feelings.

Chapter Fifteen - Rated E (explicit) - You and Viktor have a nice afternoon decorating the winter tree. Then a kiss devolves into more. You’re not ready for the whole nine yards just yet, but you’re certainly okay with what he offers you.

Chapter Sixteen - Rated M - A morning with Viktor. Also you’re insatiable.

Chapter Seventeen - Coming Soon!

[snapescloaca]

i want it to be said, here and now, once and for all. viktor is now among the ranks of Ideal Men. welcome to the club, moid <3

[shimomcdragon]

oc doodles

[cmykristyart]

there was a thought process involved here

[art-ofatypical]

Making AU versions of some old OCs. They're very gay for eachother.

[scrimbly-mc-scrombly-iii]

misery x CPR x Reese’s puffs but it’s all the same character in different eras.

[hyperesthesias]

I'm surprised no one has put Viktor to Given Up by Linkin Park yet. Peak Machine Herald lyrics.

[honey-tongued-devil]

[Arcane preference] reacting to someone flirting with their s/o + jealousness

I'll be honest, I had like four headcanons on jealousy (and five on pregnancy, curse on you and your baby fever), so making this headcanon became a priority. Plus, I tried to make it a bit longer. As usual, under the "read more" line, you'll find both my other project for Arcane (a series of vintage-style posters) and my other socials in case you want to follow me because you love me too much.

socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky |

poster: | Jayce poster | | Silco poster 1| | Silco poster 2| |Silco poster 3| | Steb poster |

Jayce:

- He’s not the type to cause a scene, nor is he the aggressive kind.  

- When someone flirts with you in front of him for the first time, he’s confused for a few seconds.  

- The problem begins when the thought starts settling, stagnating, thickening like sediment at the bottom of a bottle. Was the person really hitting on you, or is he just being paranoid?  

- Did they not realize you were together? Or did they do it on purpose?  

- It doesn’t take long for him to start ignoring you, not even on purpose—he suddenly forgets he’s a scientist, a successful adult man, and spirals into a crisis.  

- What if he’s not enough? What if that person realized before him that he wasn’t suited for you?  

- You notice something’s off, but he doesn’t say a word. If it happens again, his fists clench, he feels like the world is collapsing on him, and if it persists, he leaves without even thinking.  

- He doesn’t want to witness that scene; he’s terrified that you might accept the flirtation, that you’ll realize he’s not good enough for you.  

- And if you’re going to leave him, he doesn’t want to see it with his own eyes.  

- Eventually, he’ll be the one to bring up the subject, just to tell you that if you’re tired of him, he won’t hold it against you and that he understands.  

- It’s not true, but he wants to seem mature. He wants to be a good partner until the end and almost breaks down when you reassure him that you don’t want to leave him, that he is enough.

 Viktor:

- Pre-"Arcane s1-tamed" Viktor would snap at the person flirting with you or insult them under his breath.  

- In the wrong moment, with enough alcohol in his system, his reaction could even turn violent.  

- Viktor gets jealous with anger—a mix of fear of being mocked, the lack of control over the situation, and his sense of replaceability set him off.  

- But he’s also an adult. He’ll try to make peace with himself before talking to you about it.  

- Post-"Arcane-tamed" Viktor observes you, tries to read your signals. He’s irritated but keeps calm and even interrupts the situation, pointing out that the two of you have things to do.  

- He doesn’t wait long to bring it up and is straightforward: “Do you like him?”  

- His jealousy is laced with sadness. The thought of losing your warmth, intimacy, and everything he has with you makes him feel empty.  

- He knows he’s often absent because of his research, that it’s hard to be with someone with “special needs” because it can be limiting at times. He’s aware of his unique personality and his background. His anger quickly shifts to resignation, becoming a quiet sorrow.  

- When you try to reassure him, his response is even sadder: “I know I’m hard to love. I don’t blame you.”  

- When someone hits on you, as soon as you’re alone, he holds you closer. During cuddles, he breathes in your scent deeply, as if trying to memorize you in case he will ever have to remember you.

 Ekko:

- At the Tree, it’s pretty normal. They share everything, and everyone is just very friendly. If someone flirts with you at the Firelight hideout, he laughs, jokes, and stays calm.  

- The problem arises outside of that safe space.  

- When someone from outside flirts with you, he’s stunned for a moment, but if it continues, he leaves before you can even respond.  

- He knows that if he stayed, things might escalate.  

- “I didn’t like how that guy was talking to you,” he blurts out when you try to talk to him, but it’s obvious the issue cuts deeper than that. His tone and downcast eyes reveal that it’s more significant than it seems.  

- Living at the Tree has taken your relationship to a deeper level. You take care of the kids together, share everything, and live as part of a big interconnected family.  

- The idea of someone threatening the peace of his home, his family, makes him feel like those things he takes for granted could suddenly change. 

- That tomorrow, you might no longer be his “married” partner but two strangers.

 Vander:

- Vander is too old to be jealous, and has been in enough strange and ambiguous situations not to overreact.  

- If someone flirts with you, maybe at the bar in front of him, he chuckles to himself, commenting only after the person leaves that you’re so attractive no one can resist you.  

- He doesn’t like it, but it often makes him smile to see others recognize what he sees in you.  

- On the night when someone is particularly persistent or you seem to laugh more than usual, he taps his finger on the bar, contemplating what to do. When he catches your eye, he simply mouths, “If you want to go, don’t worry—I’ll close the bar.”  

- It’s not about being open to a polyamorous relationship, don’t misunderstand. He believes that a relationship should be based on the fact that you actively choose to be with him, not on obligation. That’s why he gives you the freedom to back out if you want.  

- When you shake your head, refuse the other person, and stay with him—maybe touching his hand at the bar when he has a moment of peace—he looks at you with an indescribable tenderness.  

- “I’m glad you’re here with me,” he whispers when you’re finally alone, holding you tightly in his arms.  

Silco:

- On one hand, he’s too old to make a scene, but when he sees someone flirting with you right in front of him, something inside him falters.  

- Being able, after so many years, to form such a deep bond with someone put him in a state of comfort he hadn’t realized might one day be taken away.  

- Suddenly, that possibility becomes real, vivid. Outwardly, he shows no emotion and doesn’t lose his composure for even a moment—because if he did, he might lose control. But inside, he feels like he’s dying.  

- If you laugh a little too much or don’t explicitly reject the person, the turmoil inside him intensifies rapidly.  

- He’s been through too much, and his mind is wired to “strike before being struck,” which is why he immediately becomes colder, seeking emotional distance to avoid being vulnerable.  

- He’s not the king of good communication. If you try to ask him what’s wrong, he’ll dodge the question. It’ll take a lot of effort on your part to understand what triggered his behavior, to talk to him and reassure him gently, never too directly.  

- You’ll need to show him, through actions, that you haven’t left and don’t plan to before he starts acting normal again—becoming more physically affectionate when you’re alone.  

 Jinx:

- Jinx is possessive and jealous, living in constant fear of being both not enough and too much at the same time—of losing everything she has and being abandoned by anyone who can still leave her.  

- It’s in those rare moments when the buzzing behind her eyes quiets, when she’s at rest, that for a single second, just one fleeting instant, she allows herself to forget that fear.  

- And then, when you’re together, and someone pays you a compliment that makes you laugh, something snaps in her head.  

- Do you know them? Why are they so friendly? Why don’t you say something? Why did you stop walking? Walk, dammit, walk. Why are they touching your shoulder? Why don’t you stop them? Why don’t you stop them? WHY DON’T YOU STOP THEM.  

- The likelihood that the person who flirted with you ends up found the next day with a broken limb in a dumpster is extremely high.  

- But even that doesn’t calm her. When you get home, she isolates herself, spiraling into thoughts that maybe, if you could, you’d have gone with that person or followed them.  

- She’ll need lots of affirmation and both verbal and physical reassurance before she calms down.  

Vi:

- Her jealousy exists, it’s there, but she expresses it in a very straightforward way.  

- Having been forced to grow up too quickly and unable to throw tantrums because she was responsible for her siblings, her emotions have always been carefully bottled up and dealt with through questionable coping mechanisms.  

- Sure, having someone by her side now means she can’t go brawling in the streets, especially when the reason feels so trivial.  

- Usually, she doesn’t even pay much attention to it, but this time, exhaustion, stress, or a moment of vulnerability probably made the situation unbearable.  

- And as always, if you have questions no one can answer, the solution is probably at the bottom of a glass.  

- She doesn’t want to burden you with how she feels; it’s not even your fault, and she knows it’s stupid to feel this way. But when she’s forced to confront the idea that you may not a constant in her life, that maybe you want something better, something more—at that moment, she needs to get out, to scream, to punch something, with enough alcohol in her system to pass out in an alleyway.  

- She struggles to talk about it, hates making you responsible for her emotions, and hates that she has to make you worry when it’s not your fault.  

- When you bring it up and try to approach her with an attitude that makes her feel reassured, she has moments of being emotionally fragile, more vulnerable than usual.  

 Caitlyn:

- This woman is a lady killer—it’s sadly very normal for people to get jealous of her.  

- At work, during conferences, or noble meetings, she’s used to people flirting with her. That’s why, when she sees someone flirting with you, her first thought is that they might be making you uncomfortable.  

- If she sees you’re actually uncomfortable, she’ll personally step in to ensure the other person leaves.  

- If she doesn’t see you uncomfortable, she’ll observe you for a few minutes, becoming distracted and absent from her own conversations, lost in analyzing what she’s seeing. -However, she dislikes waiting to address issues, so expect her to ask if something is wrong between the two of you as soon as you’re home.  

- Caitlyn’s issue is that her thoughts ferment. If she doesn’t address the matter immediately, each day will make her mood worse, leading to unnecessary tension.  

- She might not shake off that strange feeling immediately and could remain distant until the next day, but it’s not punitive. Her emotions catch her off guard and make her colder unintentionally.  

- She’ll make up for it completely the following day.  

- She’ll also ensure she gets matching rings for both of you, so they can serve as a signal to others.  

 Mel:

- For Mel, jealousy is just bitterness.  

- She doesn’t show it. Her training in always appearing reliable and cordial means she’s adept at masking her feelings. So, when she sees someone flirting with you at a gala, her gaze lingers for just a few moments before she returns to smiling at her conversation partner.  

- A little passive-aggressive, with comments like “I saw you had fun” or “So, tell me about…”—but not meant to provoke you.  

- She’s the first to acknowledge that at meetings and galas, one must be adaptable, charming, smiley, and captivating. She knows that flirting is often part of the façade or just a small piece of a larger strategy, so what may sound like provocation is usually her way of asking what was on your mind.  

- Her bitter jealousy becomes stronger and more genuine when there’s no strategy, no deeper game, but the person continues attending events and spends all their time trying to flirt with you. In these cases, she won’t hesitate to interrupt with a firm, “Excuse us,” and lead you to the balcony.  

- No scene, no lecture—just a curt and slightly sad, “I only ask that you don’t make a fool of me.”  

- When reassured that there was never even the intention of doing so, she becomes almost an accomplice. Have fun (within limits), gather amusing or trivial information, and tell her all about it later when you’re alone under the sheets.  

 Sevika:

- Sorry to disappoint, but she’s the least jealous character here.  

- Her most stable relationships have all been at the brothel. If someone flirts with you, she’ll wait until the person leaves to comment on how slimy they were or how you seem to attract everyone without exception.  

- Zaun is precarious; her job is precarious; even staying alive is extremely precarious. She doesn’t have time for jealousy. To her, it wouldn’t make sense to get angry or even cause a scene just because someone flirts with you when she can’t be around much or offer you stability herself.  

- She knows perfectly well that her mechanical arm, her boss, her boss’s daughter, the drug use, and the dangerous work she does make her someone it’s hard to stay close to. But this doesn’t make her insecure—rather, it makes her grateful.  

- It’s your choice to stay by her side, and if you ever want to leave, she believes you should feel free to do so without fearing any outburst from her.  

- When you reassure her that you’d never betray, replace, or leave her, she pulls you close with one arm, kisses your forehead, and gives the faintest smile.  

- That said, if someone flirts too much and you complain about their persistence, Sevika will handle it diplomatically—by picking them up and slamming them against the wall in front of you, making sure the point sinks in effectively.  

[leth-writes]

Arcane characters and brief kiss headcanons

Jinx

Incredibly rough, but has soft, plump lips she covers with cherry chapstick.

Loves making out slowly while the two of you cuddle in her small bed, no worries and no responsibilities

You shut the voices out, letting her truly relax.

Vi

Soft, slow and deep. Loves to push you against the wall and run her hands down your sides, or grab you by the waist and pull you in

Viktor

Short, sweet, and usually quite chaste, Viktor prioritizes small pecks over prolonged making out. Loves being able to slow down and relax, not thinking about his sickness or his inventions or any other problems.

Sevika

Incredibly rough, loves biting and pulling your bottom lip. Grasps the bottom of your chin to angle you perfectly, pushes you against the wall and gropes your ass.

Leaves so many hickies up and down your neck you look like you’ve been attacked

Silco

Slow and dominant. His lips are just on the side of dry, but he loves grabbing you by the chin and just barely brushing his lips against yours to tease. Wants you to beg.

[ithinkimnormal]

Sorry but It's actually so annoying how much people downplay the crucial role piltover's corrupt council games played in derailing jayce/viktor's work and pretty much putting shackles around their lives. The council is directly responsible for and directly FUNDING so much of the misery that happens in this show, before the story has even started. Before Powder ever finds the gemstone. They single-handedly doom half of the region to death.

Just during the show: Jayce wanted to create magic to aid and uplift the common people, the council wanted trade route instant teleportators to make themselves richer.

Jayce & Viktor wanted to work on technology to help miners and steelworkers and artisans who are trying to survive in the industrial hellscape of piltover and zaun; the council wants it shelved for another 20 years. (yes, heimer is part of the corrupt council - no matter how much his image is laundered by the fandom.)

They are inept and self-serving leaders, elected by themselves and their blood inheritances, utterly obsessed with ultimate profit. You can really see how parasitic their relationship is to the people at the beggining of act 1. Jayce is a token nameless life, so disposable to them that they were going to burn down all of his research and throw out all of his titles, making him not just a lower-house vassal but an EXILE, and the only reason why that doesn't happen is because they realize how much money they can suck out of his work.

This applies to Viktor too. See the way that Heimerdinger tells him over and over again that no other paths can be taken, he has 'fulfilled his purpose' and he should be content to die. See how Mel looks at Viktor like a bug she wants to squash under her palm when he rejects the idea of making weapons for council. See how they speak over him and only address Jayce, as if he's worth less than nothing.

You are only as valuable as the profit you're willing to create. You are a problem that has to be dealt with as soon as you refuse their orders. They have the power to ruin your life, and if they find an excuse, they will. This is a direct threat pointed at Jayce & Viktor during ACT2, when Jayce is pressured into becoming one of them to protect 'the bottom line profit' and, personally speaking, to avoid that ire being redirected towards Viktor. He's pushed into compliance and told a target has been painted on his back.

Arcane jayvik are doomed in big part not for wanting to do harm, but being forced to exist under the beck and call of billionaire leeches. They are both immigrants. They are both struggling to get a degree and keep themselves afloat and they want to help people so goddamn much but they have to keep postponing their dreams to serve uncaring masters. I really wish there was more fan content focused on these very real bonds of understanding and solidarity between them.

When Viktor says 'Jayce will understand' that's not a fluke; he's lived in this environment for years. He knows Jayce is being pushed down the same way that he is and that deep down they've been kept captive by the exact same people. When Jayce agrees that Viktor should do whatever he needs to do to keep himself alive, he means that from the heart.

[cheeriecherrymain]

The Bottom Of The Inkwell [Chapter 9]

Pairing: Viktor x fem!Reader Chapter Rating: T Chapter Warnings: medical scenes and mentions of surgery (nothing graphic), anxiety about potential familial loss, moments of self doubt and guilt Proofread: no beta we die like men Taglist: @envyspinebender Chapter Summary: Your life feels like it’s being uprooted, and you’re not coping well. Thankfully, Viktor is there for you, with his kind words and comforting presence.

The moment you arrive at the hospital with your uncle, your thoughts disappear. You’re overwhelmed with the sudden hushed whispers and sterile smells around you, and you slowly slip into a state of panic.

But you can’t run. Your father needs you to be there for him, even if he isn’t awake.

Your uncle drops you off at his room, where you unsurprisingly find your mother; hunkered over so she can lean on the edge of the medical bed, looking more frail than the rickety little chair in which she sits.

You take a moment to try and collect yourself, though it does very little to ease your anxiety.

Your father is silent where he lays on the gurney, with numerous thin tubes and wires shifting out from beneath the thin sheet that covers him. He’s not conscious, as you’d suspected he’d be - he’s still, and his eyes are sunken and dark, and his skin almost looks waxy.

Another wave of nausea washes over you.

Thankfully, you don’t have any more breakfast to exile from your stomach, which the nurses and cleaning staff probably appreciate.

“Hi mama…” you murmur, drawing her attention away from your father. 

She looks even worse once she turns to you, her eyes puffy and tear tracks staining her cheeks. She looks as exhausted as you feel, and you’re immediately filled with a profound sense of guilt - though you’re unable to fathom why.

You find a seat beside her, taking her hand and knitting your fingers tightly together. You stay like that for a while, pressed up against each other, talking softly and trying to console each other while you wait for the doctor to return.

He eventually does, and he fully lays out everything that has occurred - everything that needs to be done to correct the issues. The surgery that needs to happen, the risks that come with it, the healing process, the lifelong effects. 

Your mother nods along, resolutely taking in as much of the information as she can.

You, on the other hand, can barely comprehend what’s being said. You don’t recognize the shapes and sounds of the words being spoken, though you know you should. All you know is a looming sense of dread, a sickening pit in your gut, and the pounding of your heart in your chest.

Your mother eventually makes the decision to go ahead with the procedure, knowing that your father would want the chance to have more time with the both of you - even if it meant the risk of dying on the table. 

Both of you lean over him to whisper a couple words of encouragement and love.

You give him a kiss on the forehead.

He smells wrong.

He feels wrong.

You watch in silence as he’s wheeled out of the room, possibly for the last time.

Your mother breaks down into tears again.

You wonder if you remembered to lock your dorm when you left that morning.

—

The next few days are a tumultuous whirlwind of emotions. At least…they are for everyone else.

Your father returns from surgery with great success, earning the praise of numerous hospital staff. Your mother is beyond relieved that he’s alright, even though the trouble is not yet over - he still needs to heal from the physical traumas he’s experienced, and he’ll need to adjust his lifestyle accordingly.

He’ll have to take it easy for months.

He’ll have to take medication for the rest of his life.

He won’t be able to do as much physical activity as he’s used to, which you know he’s going to hate.

He’s always been the one to take care of everything - the house, the bills, the cooking and cleaning, the yard, the laundry. He always prided himself on being able to maintain his life as independently as possible.

He’ll despise having people come in to do all the things he used to be able to. You know he will.

Or maybe, you think, dread pooling in the lowest depths of your stomach, All his duties will fall to you. How will you live up to those expectations - take care of both your parents, and a home, and a garden, and still have time for school?

You stare at a speck on the wall.

You wouldn’t be able to juggle all that stress - hell, you were barely able to keep up with everything as it currently was! You’d either have to drop out and move back home, or you’d have to hire several people to help your parents cope in their day to day life.

You wonder where the speck came from. It doesn’t line up with the door handle.

Your father would need an in-home nurse anyways. At least for the first couple of months, while he adjusted. He’d probably be picky in who he’d let help him, and he’d likely be crabby and unsociable. You suppose you understand, but…still.

Maybe the speck was always there, and you’d just never noticed it.

You’d never really looked at the walls of your dorm room that closely, after all.

You know you should probably be at home with your mother, to help her out when she needs you, and offer her some emotional support, but…you can’t. Not right now.

You can’t.

You haven’t been able to go back to the hospital since the first day, when you’d watched your father get taken away.

Your mother has said every day that he’s asked for you, and she’s had to tell him that you’re at school.

You know she’s upset with you.

You know he’s upset, too.

You don’t know why you’re so fucking terrified.

You’re a horrible daughter.

“I don’t want to fall behind in class,” you’d said. “I don’t want to sit around at home, twiddling my thumbs. I’ll be over soon.” Not telling your mother that you actually weren’t in class during the day.

You were hiding; from some violently frightening, unknowable thing.

You’re a horrible daughter.

You haven’t spoken to V since everything happened, either, so you’re a horrible friend, too. You could write to him right now, if you wanted to. You could pull out your notebook and your enchanted pen, and you could tell him about why you were so scarce. You know you should, and you know it wouldn’t take much effort.

So you do.

You rise from your bed with great effort, grabbing the half-empty glass bottle from your lamp table to bring it with you when you sway over to your desk.

You open your journal.

I heard something happened today, but all the professors are being tight-lipped about it. I hope you’re doing alright - it’s okay if you don’t reply to this. I know you probably didn’t have any time to stop by your dorm before you went home.

You sigh.

I know my last message sounds kind of presumptuous, like I know who you are and what’s happened to you. I…will admit, I do know who you are. You don’t need to worry about that, though. I’ve known for a little while now. Gossip is spreading around like wildfire, and I don’t know what stories to believe, if any. Whatever is going on, make sure to take care of yourself - rest, drink water, eat. I’ll be here whenever you have the energy to come back.

You blink back the tears beginning to collect in your eyes, willing them away.

Sorry for taking so long to reply. You were right - I didn’t have any time to grab my stuff before I took off. I don’t know what rumours you’ve been hearing, but I’ll set them straight: my dad had a heart attack. He needed to go into surgery in order to fix the problem, which is why my mother and I were called over. It was risky, so we…kind of had to say goodbye. Just in case.

You take a deep, trembling breath.

He’s doing alright. He’s tired, and he sleeps a lot. I guess that’s expected, after what he’s been through.

And then, your thoughts come tumbling out.

V, I’m a terrible person. I haven’t been to see him since that first day, and I don’t know why. I told my mom that I needed to keep up with school, and that I would be able to function better if I had some sort of normalcy in my life, but I! I haven’t been to class even once. I’ve been sitting in my room drinking for three days, staring at the ceiling, stewing in anxiety and guilt, and I don’t know how to fix it.

Cinnamon vodka isn’t as bad as it sounds, at least. Might need to grab another bottle. I’m probably going to try and sleep some more.

Sorry.

You slam the notebook shut, and set your head down on the soft leather cover to cry. Silent, harsh sobs wracking your body, making your ribs ache and your throat squeeze. You weren’t lying - you don’t know what to do. You don’t know how to face the fear you’re feeling, and you don’t know how to ask for help.

All your life, you’ve felt as though you’ve had to do everything alone, and always do your best, and be the best, and now…

Now, you just need a hug.

—

Your room is dark when you open your eyes. Lights from the city cast strange shapes across your ceiling, but aside from the dim flickering, you can’t see.

You sit up slowly, not wanting to aggravate the dull ache in the back of your skull, but your honeyed movements do nothing. Your world turns on its end, and you’re certain that if you could see anything, your vision would be swimming.

But despite your dizziness, you don’t feel the familiar burn of bile trying to come up your throat, nor the involuntary heaving that made your ribs cramp. Why had you woken up?

You sit there for a couple seconds, puzzling.

Until the soft rap of knuckles on wood comes from somewhere off to the right.

Oh.

That’s probably why.

You paw around blindly until your fingertips collide with your bedside lamp, wincing and pinching your eyes shut when the room suddenly floods with light.

Another knock.

“Gods above,” you grumble, grumpily stumbling to your feet. “Hold on a second, I’m-”

You pause, after you briskly swing the door open.

Oh.

“Viktor?” 

You don’t mean to sound as cranky as you do, but you know he hears it. He winces ever so slightly at your tone, his hand tightening around his cane as he gives you a somewhat awkward smile.

“Ah…I apologize for coming around so late,” he says, looking you up and down. “I…have been busy the past few days, and I was not sure if you’d be back so soon after…”

He trails off for a second, as if he realizes he’s just stuck his foot in his mouth.

Still, you’re less perturbed now that you know it’s just him, instead of some stranger here to bother you about something useless.

“You wanna come in?” you wonder, stepping aside enough to let him in.

He takes the invitation, and swiftly makes his way into your room, leaving you to shut the door behind him. He stops in the middle of your tiny dorm to observe the things you have set up - little decorations you’ve filled your shelves with, books you have lined up on your desk, your purple polkadotted sheets.

The mostly empty liter of alcohol you have sitting beside your bed.

“Are you drunk?” he asks curiously, watching as you wobble back over to your bed to find a seat.

“Probably,” you sigh. “I was supposed to help me sleep.”

He plucks the glass container from beside your lamp, and observes it carefully. “Cinnamon vodka?”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

He unscrews the cap, and brings it to his lips.

You watch in complete shock as he takes a heaping mouthful of the stuff, swishing it around for a couple seconds before swallowing. He doesn’t even make a face.

“I don’t understand how you’re not throwing up,” he comments, setting it back down on your nightstand. “That’s a lot of alcohol to have in three days, especially on an empty stomach.”

You frown up at him with prickly annoyance, balling your fists at your sides. “I’ve had a really shitty week,” you hiss, “I think I’m entitled to a little bit of relaxation.”

All at once, his expression softens, and his shoulders fall. As if he’s realized how harsh he’s coming down on you - regardless of how unhealthy your coping mechanisms are.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, stepping carefully over the little piles of clothes on your floor. “I…didn’t come here to judge you for whatever it is you’re doing. Grieving, or stressing,” he takes a seat beside you, “People have been whispering, but the story changes every time I hear it. I don’t know what’s actually happened.”

You watch him for a moment from the corner of your eye, brows drawn together and lips pressed into a tight line. He sounds curious, despite his roundabout way of questioning you.

“You’re allowed to just ask me, you know?” you tell him.

“Your tone and your posture say otherwise.”

With a groan, you flop backwards onto your bed, covering your face with your hands.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Viktor!” you gripe, dragging your palms upwards until you can knit your fingers into your hair. “My mood is shit right now, my life is shit right now, and I feel like shit right now. I’m sorry if I can’t have a polite conversation-”

“I’m not asking you to be polite,” he interrupts, staring down at you with intense concern. “I’m just asking you to be honest. Tell me what’s going on. I can’t help, if you won’t tell me.”

You manage a whopping two seconds of eye contact before you find yourself having to break away. You try to blink back the familiar burning tears, but unlike earlier, the action only seems to make them flow faster. Gathering behind your lashes, bubbling over and trailing down the sides of your face.

Shakily, you begin to tell him the events of the past couple days.

Almost losing your father.

Your anxiety, knowing he’ll be stubborn about changing.

Your inability to set foot in the hospital without having a panic attack.

The guilt that weighs on you, not being able to provide for your family.

“I don’t know what to do,” you admit, wiping at your eyes for the nth time. “I feel like I’ve been tossed into the ocean during a storm. It’s not even my life that’s really going to change, but I…gods, I sound so self centered.”

Slowly, the bed dips beside you, as Viktor comes to rest. His arm is warm where he’s pressed up against you, offering you a comfort you didn’t even realize you were lacking - someone to lean on.

“You’re not a bad person for being afraid,” he says, after a couple of moments pass. “Emotions are finicky. They’re illogical and strange. It makes sense that your mind would take a stressful situation and make you fear it.”

It’s obvious in the way that you continue to sniffle that you don’t believe him.

So he tries again.

“Did you know I lost my mother when I was twelve?” he asks, knowing full well that he’s never told you in depth about his past. “She was sick for a long time, like a lot of people in the undercity are. She tried to push through it but…in the end it took her. I got to watch her waste away for two years before she finally passed.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, squirming around for a few seconds to lay on your side, facing him.

“It was a blessing, after all she’d been through,” he promises, turning over to mirror your position. “My father…didn’t see it that way, though. He sank lower and lower into his moods, made worse and worse decisions, got into fights with the wrong crowd of people.”

He sighs sadly.

“One morning, he left for work and just…never came back. No one ever reported seeing his body somewhere - I don’t even know if there would be a body. For all I know, he’s still alive somewhere, skulking around in the deepest crevices of the city.”

Slowly, carefully, you bring your hand up to where his lays loosely between your bodies. “Did you have anyone else?” you ask, entwining your fingers.

“No,” he replies sullenly. “I was alone, for the most part. A couple people took pity on me and offered me food, but no one…no one ever took me in. It was difficult to keep moving forward when I was just struggling to survive. There were a few places that would offer me work - machine and repair shops, the like - but only if I had the skills. And I wouldn’t be able to get the skills without the job. You see where this is going.”

You nod.

“You needed someone to teach you, instead of everyone expecting you to already know things.”

“Exactly,” he agrees, “But no one would take a chance on a quiet child who could barely stand on his own. If I had been stronger, then perhaps they would have - at least if I turned out to not have the mind for such work, they could stick me in a labor position. I felt hopeless, and lost. Angry, depressed, and like I’d been cheated out of the life I’d wanted.”

He reaches up with his free hand, then, to tenderly stroke the pads of his fingers over the curve of your cheek.

“But then, like some kind of miracle, I met someone. Sort of.”

He huffs a laugh when the confusion wrinkles across your face.

“How do you sort of meet someone?” you ask, perplexed.

“You talk without ever seeing each other’s faces,” he replies, as if it’s the most sensible thing he’s ever said. “You might need the help of a magic pen, though - rather, a set of magic pens.”

You freeze.

One by one, the pieces fall into place - the boy from the undercity, the way you’d spoken to each other, how similar both your friends had been, and how you’d cared deeply for both of them.

“V,” you utter. “V for Viktor.”

He smiles at you, warm and affectionate.

“You’ve changed my life in ways you cannot fathom,” he explains, cupping your jaw. “You have supported me in my most dire moments, purely out of the kindness of your heart. You went above and beyond for someone who was essentially a total stranger, and I…”

He pauses for the briefest moment, before his gaze meets yours. “I fell in love with you - before we came to the academy, I was convinced that we were meant to be.” And then, a cheeky grin, “Of course, then I got paired with the strangest partner for one of my classes - impossible to work with, as if she was trying to be frustrating on purpose!”

You’re barely able to bite back a giggle.

“Except she turned out to be an incredible friend,” he finishes, “and more. I fell in love with her, too. She looked at me like I was a person, not just…some boy from the lanes. She’s brilliant - blinding in creativity and ingenuity, cleverness and spirit. You really are incredible, you know?”

Heat rises to your face, and you have to break away from the intensity of his gaze, lest you combust.

“In my defense,” you murmur, “you didn’t make it easy, either.”

He wraps his arm around your waist, and pulls you close with a soft laugh. “No,” he sighs, “I suppose I didn’t. But I think it turned out alright.”

You stay there for a few moments, pressed tightly against him while you listen to the steady thrum on his heart. It’s comforting to have such warmth radiating through your body, to have the pressure of another person on your skin, holding you safe where you lay.

Then, “All of this is, of course, to say that whatever you need from me - I’ll do it. I’ll go with you to see your father. If you need help with school, I’ll do whatever is necessary. If you just need a friend, and can’t deal with anything more right now, I understand - I’ll be your friend. I’ll support you. Whatever you need from me, it’s yours.”

This time, when the tears well up, you don’t try to will them away. You let them slide past your lashes, sideways over your face until they’re absorbed by the soft material of Viktor’s sweater.

“I just need you,” you sniffle, squishing your face harder into his chest. “As you are - that’s what I need.”

He presses a tender kiss to the crown of your head.

“You have me.”