#but he supposed it makes sense he and viktor are the two sides of the same coin

[fairy-writes]

Hi!! I saw that you write for Arcane and had a really cute idea for Vander. I don’t really see a lot of fics where you get to see Vander’s reactions to the reader either playing with the kids or comforting them, so I thought a fic centered around that might be cute? (I think also having a bit of slow burn would be sweet, like both Vander and the reader like each other but don’t do anything about it until getting a little push from the kids because they ship).

ONE LITTLE PUSH

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Arcane: League of Legends

Pairing(s): Vander x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Bit of a Slowburn, Fluff, Getting Together, Reader is Smaller than Vander (but who isn’t?), Sibling Bickering

Notes: VANDER MY FAVORITE

(No, but seriously, contrary to popular belief, he’s my 1st favorite over Viktor)

JUST IN TIME (kind of) FOR SEASON TWO, LETS GOOOOO

__________________________________________________________________________

Vander wasn’t quite sure why you stuck around for so long. 

In fact, he wasn’t sure why you stuck around in the first place. 

But… As Vander watches you with the kids. His kids. He begins to understand why. 

You were kind, unyieldingly so. Even as Mylo grew to start picking on Powder, even as they fought, you were kind and patient and offered them the unending gentle love they all so craved. 

The love he couldn’t afford to give them because who could be gentle in the Undercity? Especially in the depths of the Lanes?

You could. 

Vander was in the middle of pouring a drink when Powder tumbled into The Last Drop. She was covered in bruises and dust from something. Or someone. She barely met his gaze as she clambered to her feet and all but sprinted into the back where they all slept. Vander looked through the multitude of customers and spotted you. 

You had obviously seen Powder go bolting, worry twisting your face as you glanced toward the bar and met his stare. You arched an eyebrow, and he shrugged. You rolled your eyes and sighed before smiling in jest and getting up from where you had been tinkering with the jukebox. 

Vander finally manages to get away from his chatty clients and makes his way back into the back room nearly fifteen minutes later. 

Only to pause by the door. 

“—ylo hates me! He does, I swear!” Powder cries, and you hush her gently, dabbing what looks to be some of the antiseptic you have lying around on her cuts and bruises. Disinfectant was hard to come by, especially in the Lanes, but you were seemingly magic in the sense that you always knew who to talk to to get some. It seems you had worked your magic yet again. 

“Did Mylo say that he hates you?” You ask gently, whispering a quiet “sorry” under your breath as she flinched with the sting of the antiseptic. 

Powder pauses, thinking what had to be her earlier conversation over, 

“Well… No…” She mumbles, and you hum, 

“Can I give you my honest opinion?” You ask, and she stills, looking up at you with wide eyes before nodding. 

“Aren’t you always honest with us?” She asks. You chuckle at that. 

“I suppose I am. But I don’t think Mylo hates you. Does he find you a bit annoying? Maybe. But every big brother thinks that about their younger siblings. I know mine did.” You say, and Powder mulls your words over and over and over in her mind. 

She always did overthink things. 

“I didn't know you had a big brother.” She says eventually, and you let out a loud laugh at that. 

“You are a silly girl for focusing on that. But yes, I came from a big family. And guess what? I was the baby of the family. Just. Like. You.” You say, emphasizing your words with a pinch to her side. Powder squeals with laughter and wriggles away to escape your dastardly tickling. 

Vander hangs his head with a huff and a smile before turning to head back to the bar counter. He can hear your conversation continue as Powder escapes your grasp.

“Now, where did you get all these bruises from?”

“Um… Vi taught me parkour from Topside down…”

“Powder! You’re like seven!”

“Seven and a half! And she said I was ready!”

Ever since you began to stick around, you had become something of a parent figure to the four little children Vander had come into care for. 

To Vi and Powder especially. 

So when Mylo burst into The Last Drop with the words of a fistfight on his tongue, you were the first one out the door. 

Vander was close behind. 

Mylo led you and Vander deep into the Undercity. In fact, it was so far into the Undercity that Vander was worried they were getting into some dark territory. 

Like… Really dark territory. 

But soon enough, the sounds of a fight were heard, and soon after, you were deep in the throng of a multi-person fistfight. Everyone paused for a second when they saw you and then stopped altogether when they spotted Vander not far behind. 

You began to pull people off and shoved them out of the way. You did this again and again, ducking under a few stray punches until you managed to unearth Vi. 

She wasn’t looking too hot. 

Her face was bruised and swollen, and the fifteen-year-old spat out a wad of blood as she bared her bloody teeth and prepared to fight again. 

At least until she saw you. 

It was as if the tension had been released from her shoulders. 

She all but slumped into your grasp, and you stumbled back a step with the sudden weight. Vander yanked the last person away from you both and scooped up his adoptive daughter. She leaned her head into the crook of his neck and was obviously fighting back tears. 

Mylo was hunched over, hands on his knees, and wheezed from all the sprinting. 

“Vi? Violet, can you hear me?” You said as soon as you all returned to The Last Drop, and Vander set her down on the couch. Powder and Claggor had been found a block away, fighting off more thugs from whoever sent them after the literal children. 

He would've pummeled them to a pulp if Vander hadn’t hung up his gauntlets years before. 

Vi’s head lolled from side to side, and you shone a pocket flashlight into her eyes, watching as her pupils dilated and contracted. You were experienced at this, taking care of people, even more so than he thought. 

Were you a doctor deep in your past? 

As Vander thought about it, he realized he didn’t know practically anything about you. Your past, your likes, dislikes, he knew you were good with machines and medicine and that you came from a big family. But that was it. 

And that hurt his heart. 

You ended up ushering everyone out of the room while you worked on caring for Vi. Vander closed the bar early and was in the middle of putting chairs on tables when you emerged. Powder, Mylo, and Claggor dropped what they were doing. They scampered to your side, a chorus of “How’s Vi?” erupting from the kids. You offered them a tired smile and patted their heads. 

“She’ll be okay. She’s resting right now. You can go in and see her if you’re quiet.”

And then it was the two of you. 

Vander set the final chair on top of the table and meandered his way over where you were sitting at the bar, head in your hands. 

You looked tired. 

“Is she really okay?” He asked, and you grunted, rubbing at your temples. 

“She has a broken nose, fractured left arm, some bruised ribs, and a concussion. Which, all things considered, she’s very lucky. It could’ve been a lot worse.” You say, and he sighs, 

“Did she say why she got into the fight?” He replied, and you shrug, 

“She was protecting Powder. Then, more people started showing up until it was an all-out brawl. That’s when we stepped in.” You say, and his shoulders sag. 

Vi was going to be okay. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever said it. But thank you. For everything you’ve done. Taking care of them and all that.” He says, and you just hum. 

“You guys gave me a home after everything. I’m just repaying my debt. Well… that and I love those kids.” You say, and he arches an eyebrow,

“After everything?” He inquires, and you glance up sharply as if not realizing what you had said. 

Eventually, your gaze casts downward, and you run a hand over your head and through your hair. 

“I was a doctor in Piltover before the rebellion. I was caught trying to help the Undercity before they were officially citizens and cast out.” You say, and his arched eyebrow raises even higher. 

“A doctor? Were you any good?” You bark out a dry laugh at that,

“One of the best!” Your voice cracks as you speak, and he feels his heart splinter into pieces. 

Vander should’ve known that Claggor and Mylo were up to something when they came in with sneaky grins on their faces. 

The Last Drop was all but desolate. It was the wee hours of the morning before the people of the Undercity awoke to begin their day. But the door was unlocked, and the kids were allowed to run in and out as they pleased. 

Which they had been doing a lot in the last hour or so. 

“Vander!” Mylor clamored for his adopted father’s attention, waving an excited hand as he scampered up to the counter. Claggor hung behind, ever the stoic young man. But there was mischief in their eyes and curling the corners of their mouths. 

Vander slung the rag he used to wipe the counters down over his shoulder and leaned on the bar counter. 

“What did you do now?” He teased, and Mylo all but squawked. 

“When have I ever done anything?!” Vander just stared, 

“Do you really want me to answer that?” He asked, and Claggor snickered at Mylo’s deflated expression. Mylo quickly spun on a heel and jabbed a finger at his adopted brother, 

“Not a word outta you, Claggor!” He snapped before spinning back as something dawned on him.

“You gotta come with us!” He demanded, and Vander glanced between the two of them. 

“Why?” He asked, and Mylo let out an exaggerated groan.

“No questions! Just come on!” He grabbed Vander’s hand and tried tugging him around the counter and toward the front door. 

Vander relented, locking the door behind him as he followed the two boys. 

Only to realize very quickly what was actually going on. 

His first tip-off was hearing Powder and Vi’s voices, yours mixed in as you asked where you were going, why they were taking you, and what they were doing. 

Vi answered no questions. Powder just chirped excitedly. “You’ll see! You’ll see!”

The six of you met in the middle of the street, Powder dragging you by your hand as you followed behind patiently. You glanced up from listening to Powder, and your gazes met. Vander felt his heart skip a beat as he took in your appearance. There wasn’t anything particularly new, but you looked like you had cleaned up some. Your hair was pinned neatly back, and your clothes looked ironed. 

You looked… Really nice.

“Vander? What’s going on?” You asked, and Vi nudged you with her good arm. Her fractured left one was still healing carefully under your care. 

“We’re setting you two up.” She teased, and you stared dumbly. 

“Setting us up how?” You asked, and now it was Powder’s turn to blurt out an answer, 

“On a date!” 

Before the two of you could react, all four kids all but disappeared around the corner in a cloud of dust. Leaving you facing Vander and utterly alone. 

It was safe to say he was panicking just a little bit. 

“Vander? Do you have any idea what they meant?” You asked gently, and he scrubbed a hand down his face. 

“My guess is they want us to go on a date.” He said, fully prepared to hear rejection. Because who would want to go on a date with him? A middle-aged man with a stained past. His lungs twisted as he heard you take a step closer. 

A smaller hand slipped into his, and he looked down from where he had been staring at Topside. 

Your eyes were lit up, not with disgust at the proposition he was proposing. 

But they were filled with hope for the future this relationship would bring. 

[gilsart]

okay, wait. hear me out. modern day AU where Jayce is a mathematics professor and Viktor is a physicists professor. the students are so obsessed with both of them. viktor very closed off about his personal life and a harsh judge on tests and work but genuinely fun to engage with in and out of class. he helps students like crazy. jayce on the other hand is an avid yapper who can’t stop talking about his sweet and handsome husband and all he does for for Jayce. how happy he makes Jayce and is his reason for living. viktor’s cane breaks while he’s working so he begrudgingly has to call Jayce who keeps his backup cane in his office. students start gossiping about the two and how close they seem while Jayce helps Viktor and also takes the time to tighten up the screws in Viktor’s brace after he fell because of the broken cane. someone in one of Jayce’s classes actually has the guts to ask Jayce if his husband is Viktor and Jayce is like “yeah??? I wasn’t trying to hide it?” and students are like “oh my G-d, Viktor is actually married? he never talks about his partner!? if i was with jayce i’d yap about him nonstop! crazy but we are so happy for those idiots!” after students find out, Viktor doesn’t open up about his life much more but doesn’t try to hid that he’s with jayce anymore

no bc I had this whole series of drawings in my head for this ask specifically. this included Jayce too at first but I FAILED man... it just became a very watered down version of what you said + bonus for young university student Viktor

as for the professor version I legit got so wrapped up in the hand gesture, I forgot he's supposed to lean to one side when he's older and that he probably can't stand without his crutch so I APOLOGIZE ABOUT THAT I'm heavily sleep deprived

(also as previously stated I know nothing about STEM, I have an art degree, I literally only searched some string theory schematics and scribbled it so if it makes no fucking sense that is why)

[sciencebecameouraddiction]

title: deserted by fate

author: sciencebecameouraddiction

fandom: arcane

rating: PG

length of fic: LONG. it’s long. but lots of flash back scenes and building of the relationship.

genre: angst / romance / fluff at the end

pairing: jayce x reader x viktor

summary: fate never favored a trio. fates favorite was always a duo. and she knew who fate would favor. she hated being right.

note: not beta read. proof read so many times the words blurred together and i deleted an entire section that i couldn’t get back and had to rewrite. over all though, it should be good!

tag list: @night-fall-moon

there was once three. a trio. two partners and their assistant.

three friends.

three…

three……

three………

but one was always forgotten.

—————————

the silence as war died down left an eerie rattling inside the ears of those who had survived. as they looked around to see the wreckage, some who were still marked with the iridescent galaxy that the Machine Herald had left on them, others, not a physical reminder in sight on their bodies. they didn’t need one though, as piltover sat in ruins. the blood of those who died stained the marble steps. colorful dye still stained the air from jinx and the firelights entrance. but she, the third, the spare, the left behind, stood in the middle of it, unsure whether to cry, scream or run to the scene in front of her.

where the machine herald- no- where viktor and jayce were immortalized in a blinding brilliant metal, jayce knelt with his hammer in his grasp and viktor’s hand perched along jayce’s forehead.

the tears, she realized, fell on their own. leaked out of her eyes and fell past her face but she felt none of that. numb completely as she stared at the hollow husks of the two men in front of her.

her mind repeating…

three…

three……

three………

there was to be three of them.

three creators and inventors of hextech. three researchers. three friends…

they told her that…

three… lovers…

there were three… supposed to be three…

she supposed though that destiny had always lended its hand to favor the duo over the trio.

—————————

“you know…” jayce trailed off as he sat next to viktor and pulled her legs over his lap. “many times in books, the trio never makes it. fate always favors a duo.” he said it with that joking grin, tempting fate. daring it to try to make good on its word. viktor had the decency to look at jayce disbelieving.

“why would you say that? tempt anything that would ever want to pull us apart?” he questioned, looking between jayce and her. jayce shrugged, looking sheepish.

“because they never could. we’re tied together. you guys go, i go.” he shrugged again. she looked at both of them and then down at the ground.

“fate would favor you both.” she whispered. their eyes widened.

“never say that miláček.” viktor ground out turning to her, side eying jayce as a ‘look what you’ve done’.

“yeah, i wasn’t serious, darling.” jayce said, bring her closer to him and viktor. “we’re in this together and we’ll always be.”

—————————

“we’re in this together…”

“we’ll always be…”

together…

together……

together………

—————————

she should have known that was a warning flag. the conversation they had. and they weren’t together. not now. she was right. fate had favored them, in some twisted sense of humor, divine intervention or not, fate had carved out a spot where both jayce and viktor could be together leaving her behind.

she was the one to pick up the pieces… she always had been, why would this be any different?

—————————

“viktor, please! it’s dangerous! you can’t be serious!” she yelled, her anxious anger causing her voice to bellow. his eyes sliced her down as he looked her way, the glare he had for her held nothing but contempt as she tried to stop him.

“while you may have your life ahead of you, i am on borrowed time miláček.” he rose his chin looking down at her as she had put her self between him and the hexcore. “now move out of my way. i will only ask once.”

the tears were hot as they streamed down her face and shook her head. his eyes widening at her disobedience. he took a step forward but before anything could happen, jayce walked in.

“what is happening?” he asked, setting his supplies down and slowly walking over to both of them. before viktor could open his mouth she was quick to explain.

“he was trying to add more of his blood to the hexcore. he’s already done it a few times and i refuse to let him do it again. why can’t you see it’s changing you viktor? you’re not the same. please!” she begged him, no longer looking at jayce but pleading with viktor to see reason.

eyes widening, jayce moved to step in front of her. “viktor, you can’t do that. we don’t know how it will react.”

“we’ll never know if we don’t try.” viktor ground out.

“not on you.” jayce said softly. “you’re too precious for us to loose.” this stopped viktor as it was almost like flicking on a light behind his eyes. he blinked and looked at jayce and then her.

“i-i am so sorry. oh… miláček… i am so so sorry…” he started to come forward, and stopped when she took a step back reactively. his eyes widened.

“darling, please. i’m sorry.” he begged, and she could never refuse him. neither her nor jayce could…

that had been the third time that viktor had tried to add more of his biology with the hexcore.

—————————

three…

three……

three………

three times… three people…

—————————

her feet felt cemented on the marble, watching the sun play off the statues of her lovers, standing in the blood of who knew how many. her first step felt like she was chained by stones under water, attempting to walk. her second was easier, but felt like getting your foot out of quicksand. the third felt easiest and carried the most momentum as she stumbled to them, running, her body finally falling, kneeling between them and resting on jayce’s back. three shallow breaths was all she was allowed before her sobs came in full force as she clutched the hand viktor had by his side and her arm wrapped around jayce’s neck,sobbing into what would be his left shoulder.

“you-you-you

you promised…

you promised……

you promised……… me.”

her cries bellowed out around the square below, drawing disgusted glances and pitying onlookers as they saw the hextech geniuses assistant, the third partner, the sole survivor… cry out in anguish. despair. heartbreak.

“i always told you fate favored you.” she whispered, sitting there with them until their figures were carted away. with instructions from her for them to be put in the lab that they worked in, which was somehow still standing.

—————————

being in the very same lab that both… viktor and jayce had spent so much time in, herself included, felt sickening. the lack of their presence ate at her, leaving her hollow and mauled in the tide of grief. everything was as it was. nothing had moved. it was as if it was a museum. a museum of them. their chairs at the farthest point of the room. jayce’s rolling chair and viktor’s rolling stool he used often. for a moment, the lab seemed to be lighter, golden light filtering in as jayce and viktor were huddled around a notebook, talking about some equation. their heads both whip to her and smiles grow on their faces, and when she blinks, the lab is darker, filled with the blue light of the setting sun and they are no where to be found.

she walked to the couch across the lab, her fingers grazing the fabric, as she picked it up and wrapped it around herself. it smelled like them…

“guys, please, stop! it’s cold!” she pouted as jayce held the blanket too high for her to reach, viktor doing nothing but egging it on.

“just jump up and get it, my love! you can do it!” his laugh ringing through the lab.

she pulled the blanket tighter, it wasn’t cold in the lab but she was cold. no, it wasn’t cold. her body felt like it was missing an integral part to function, and now that it had been stripped away she couldn’t rebalance. walking over to viktor’s desk she looked over all the plans that were still in tact, his desk almost exactly how he left it. hot tears welling in her eyes again as she saw his favorite mug, the one jayce got for him, sitting off to the right, long cold and molded over with his favorite tea still inside. her fingers brushed against the handle.

viktor took a sip of his tea as she watched standing next to him.

“can i try that?” she asked.

“sure.” he waved his hand at her. she took a sip and almost spit out the drink. “why is there alcohol in that damned tea?”

he turned to her and smiled, holding up a small bottle.

“you spiked it before i drank it?” her tone incredulous.

“can’t hold your liquor.” he asked as she glared at him. he got up still chuckling and grabbed the cup from her hand. “come. i’ll show you how to make the tea and we can try this cup together.” he motioned for her to follow him and she did.

she always followed him. would have followed both of them to the ends of the earth if they had let her. her jaw clenching as she tried to hold back more tears as she picked up on of his many notebooks. seeing a not that was stuck in there. she pulled it out realizing it was a small note she had given to him. it was just a little something she would do is leave notes on their desks as both viktor and jayce would always light up reading them. she opened viktor’s journal realizing it was his personal one, not looking at the entries but seeing that he had kept every single one of her notes. even taking some of the doodles she would make on their schematics and taping them in. she clutched the book to her chest and walked over to jayce’s desk.

looking at the photo of him and his mom was overwhelming and she set the photo down so she didn’t have to see it. didn’t want to be faced with the reality that more people were mourning these two as it felt like that could sweep her under the current and she was barely treading water currently. looking through his notes as well she saw underneath a few sheets of equations, the pen she got him. she grabbed it, smiling as tears came back. she had gotten this pen for him for some holiday and he had used it so much that the first refill in the pen ran out. he had no idea there were other refills.

“noooooo…” jayce whined as the sound of manic scribbling was heard. “no. no. no no no no no. what the-“

“language.” viktor stopped him, not looking up. a heavy sigh heaved from jayce as his head hit the desk.

“what’s wrong?” her voice rang out from the couch.

“the one you got me? it’s out of ink! and i can’t use it anymore!” jayce looked up, almost pouting.

“then get another one?” viktor said, turning to look at jayce like he lost his mind.

“no! this is the special pen. it was part of the gift you gave me last week! it’s special!” he says looking at her. her mouth trying to fight the smile and consequently the laugh that was threatening to bubble up. she quietly got up, went to her desk and pulled out a white box. holding it out to jayce at his desk she nodded at the box and he took it. viktor watching the whole interaction with an amused glint in his eyes.

“what is this?” jayce asked looking between them both.

“just open it, ya big baby.” she said, chuckling. he smiled at the comment and opened it, his eyes widening. thousands of refills were in the box for the pen. “i was going to give this to you later but i didn’t think you’d run that refill out of ink in a week.” she admitted. his eyes lit up as he quickly replaced the refill to the pen, without her even needing to demonstrate. he tested it on paper and when it started writing again, jayce looked at her like she hung the moon.

“thank you.” he whispered and pulled her to him, his head resting her stomach for a moment, inhaling and then lifting up and nodding to himself, trying to give the pen refill box back.

“just keep it.” she said as she fluffed his hair and walked by viktor doing the same, earning a disgruntled noise from viktor. “i fear that you’ll need them often.” jayce nodded and put them in the drawer on the right.

“when do i get a special pen that i can use?” viktor’s voice asked as he looked at her now settled back in on the couch.

“how about i get you one for your birthday?” she asked and he nodded, seemingly happy with that answer as he turned back again and got to work. her making a mental note to get another one of those pens the next day.

as she opened that same drawer, the refill box was there, open and had five left. she chuckled and held jayce’s pen in his hand. the realization hitting her, viktor wasn’t going to be here to celebrate his next birthday. she walked to her desk and took out the box, holding the complimentary pen. jayce’s was golden, similar to viktor’s eyes and also the gold in house talis colors. viktor’s pen was a deep emerald, similar to zaun’s colors, with the metal being a deeper golden color. holding their notebooks and pens in her hands felt haunting. neither would be here for their birthday’s… her birthday… the pain rose in the chest as she collapsed near her desk. her body shaking as she moved over to jayce and viktor’s side. near their desks. trying to be close to them. but how can you be close with a ghost?

———————

many whispers, glares and disgusted looks were weathered as she joined the crowd of those gathering to place names of loved ones written on parchment in the basket to be burned. she pulled her hood up further hoping to blend in as the feeling of everyone’s eyes on her was uncomfortable and magnified the hurt even more.

“i can’t believe you’re here.” a man said looking at her. she looked up at him, her eyes glazed over, darkness under her eyes from not sleeping.

“your fucking partners killed my wife… my son.” he yelled as he started towards her. enforcers restrained him.

one walks over to her, “do you know this man?” he asks her. she shakes her head. he gives her a second glance. “take the stairs up there, people are gathering there, smaller crowd.” he says before he leaves. the tears in her eyes threaten to fall as she looks up to the sky, silently thanking her partners, taking it as them intervening.

walking up the stairs feels similar to the day of the fighting. when she saw them. each step feels heavy. each step is a battle itself.

finally reaching the baskets she takes her slips of paper, jayce and viktors name written on three different slips of paper and places them together in three separate baskets. just in case someone saw them and decided to not let them be burned. a fourth stayed with her, in her pocket. she turns to leave and is stopped as ximena, jayce’s mother stands behind her. their eyes widen and ximena looks her over. the cloak she wears is black, with gold clasps. but that isn’t what draws jayce’s mother’s attention. it’s the pin on the cloak, a hammer, the talis house crest. jayce’s talis house crest.

“ximena, i-“ before anything else is said, she brings her into a hug, the feeling of loss settling in her chest like a weight at the acknowledgment of her presence from jayce’s mom.

“you have been so brave.” she whispers. at that her eyes fill with tears as she sobs into ximena’s shoulder. she smells like jayce did and it makes her sob harder.

“i miss him so much. so much. i miss them both, ximena.” she cries as ximena’s hands draw her head up and she looks at her, nodding.

“i know. i know you do. i do too.” she shows her paper she brought for the ceremony.

written in ximena’s handwriting is jayce and viktor’s name. the way she’s written them it reads viktor and jayce talis. which somehow makes her cry more at ximena’s paper, at the thought of marriage and a future that could no longer be a reality. until she sees her own name at the top. the note reads her name, viktor and jayce talis. looking up at ximena questioningly, ximena smiles knowingly.

“a part of you died that day too. i mourn that as well, my dear.” she nods, tears slipping from her eyes. the same eyes that used to look at her with love. jayce’s eyes. they always joked he had his momma’s eyes because he was a momma’s boy. now, it just hurt to see. to remember. she looked down at the ground. “and he was going to marry you both, i know he was.” ximena smiles sadly, as tears leak from her eyes, informing her thinking it a kindness. it only tears deeper at the hole they left in her. but that’s not ximena’s fault.

“i’m going up to the roof to watch everything.” announcing her leave.

“just be careful, mija.” ximena murmurs as she nods again and leaves.

—————————

watching the papers fly through the air like stars ascending to the sky was cathartic for some she imagined. that’s what jayce and viktor were, two stars, burning so bright and brilliant that she had no choice but to be attracted to their light. or maybe they were the sun and the moon, so opposite but complimentary and she was just one of the many stars in the sky that admired them. they being so magnetic that they brought her into their orbit, destroying her as they exploded, for celestial bodies that burn so bright only have so much time until they do explode and take everything with them.

a lighter in hand, she takes out the piece of paper she held onto, looking at how both her and ximena both put jayce and viktor talis. she grabs a pen from her pocket, her own pen, which became a force of habit to keep on her working with inventors and hesitated before writing her own name down and burning the slip. watching it rise with the rest. ximena was right. a part of her died that day too.

—————————

the issue when an inventor goes off on a ‘genocidal killing spree of the majority of humanity’ is it is very difficult to ensure that who they were before is not erased from memory. exactly what the piltover council moved to do, as its first order of business, once the halls were cleaned, the marble treated of the blood stains, the pillars resurrected and the dead buried. exactly why she walked to the council chambers with purpose and the speed of if hell hounds were on her ankles.

the erasure would happen over her dead body. she opened the door and was unnoticed as heard the council speaking.

“the council moves to strike viktor, hextech inventor and former academy’s dean’s assistant from any involvement with hextech. all credit will be solely to jayce talis of house talis. those in favor?” a voice floated through. she knew not who it was as she never paid much attention to the council. that was jayce and his doing. wanting to create a spectacle and make connections. one of the many things he was good at, even though deep down he hated it.

“i object.” her voice echoed as she walked into the room. the council turned towards her, many widening their eyes as they realized who she was. the room was empty except for the council members. intruding on a private meeting was something new.

“this is a closed council meeting. you should not be here.” the one at the head of the table threw out. her eye twitched, at his tone and his dismissal of her.

“and you should not be discussing mine and my partners project without me present councilor.” she said as she stepped up to where jayce’s seat was at the table and stood off the left. “there are members of the founding team for hextech still alive.”

“you were their assistant. you contributed nothing to the project.”

nothing…

nothing……

nothing……….

—————————

“you can’t let them get under your skin baby.” jayce murmured as she glared up at him.

“no, you never mention me and you hardly mention viktor when talking about hextech anymore. we have contributed as much as you have. how dare you try and erase us. what happened to partners?” she asked, thinly concealed venom in her voice.

“you know that’s not true. there are just times where-“ jayce didn’t finish his sentence.

“where councilor medarda has encouraged you to not say anything about us because viktor is from zaun and i am a poor piltoverian? i heard her talking to you three weeks ago jayce.” he had the decency to look ashamed.

“if you’re not going to include me, at the very least, ensure viktor is up there with your name. or will that ruin the “man of progress” image you’ve so carefully crafted?” snarling his title at him, she walked off, not letting him say anything else. she entered into the lab, sitting down and thankfully viktor was too absorbed in his notes to talk to her or observe she was upset. stewing was interrupted from a knock on the door hours later. expecting it to be jayce she opened the door not looking at who was there but when two finely dressed men came in and sat two very expensive looking boxes down and handed both her and viktor an envelope, then left, had you feeling dumbfounded.

“what is this?” viktor asked, his accent heavy with the lack of speaking for the past 4 hours.

“i don’t know.” was whispered from her as she walked toward the box and opened it. inside was the most gorgeous blue dress, looking as though it was made of the starry night sky itself. viktor, who had followed you gasped at seeing it. looking at her then the dress.

“that will be very beautiful on you. but where are you going?” he asked.

“where are we going?” she corrected pointing to his box, as his eyes widened. each of them slowly approaching his box like it would explode. he opened it, finding a suit and tie, matching her dress completely.

“what is going on?” viktor murmured as she looked down at the envelope in hand. she opened it, eyes scanning over the document.

“viktor, i think we’ve been invited to the inventors inaugural ball tonight.” her eyes not leaving the page.

“what?” his tone shocked and in disbelief until he saw his invitation as well. “jayce was to go to this tonight, why would we be invited?”

she shrugged, and flipped over the envelope. holding it up to viktor so he can see what was written on the back.

“NO CHOICE!” was written in all capitals and underlined three times, on both invitations. both knowing this must be important.

“we have an hour to get ready vik.” she looked at him and he sighed, resigned to his fate, knowing that there would not be a request of him if not absolutely important.

“best hop to it? don’t you always say?” pointing to the back where the washroom was. she smiled at his attempted imitation of her as they both started to get ready for the night.

——————///

a car picks both up, and thankfully both her and viktor are ready just in time for it do so. she fixes viktors tie in the car, admiring how the gold and blue in his suit compliments his eyes so well.

“you look so handsome.” whispered between the stillness that had settled into the back of the car. his hand reached up, cupping her cheek, his thumb trailing her lower lip.

“if i am handsome, then you are ethereal, miláček.” her responding smile was enough to convince him to kiss her. stopping outside the event plaza, both viktor and her exit the car, her helping viktor out, merely holding out a hand to ensure he was steady, which he reluctantly takes after side eyeing her. he never liked help, but she wasn’t taking the chance that he fall since the car parked so close to the sidewalk. then taking his left arm as you both slowly ascended inside. showing the invitations and then entering to the main ballroom, both looked around.

“i thought jayce would be here.” viktor said as he took two flutes of champagne off a tray passing by. handing one to her as she sipped it, humming.

“so did i…” her eyes squinting as she looked around, waiting for what felt like the other shoe to drop. it didn’t take long as mel medarda took the stage, introducing jayce. viktor looked and politely clapped, confusion evident on his face to his partner standing next to him. silence coming from her as she glared daggers straight at jayce. connecting the dots that this was an apology event. rolling her eyes, she downed the champagne and grabbed another one as they walked by. viktor glanced at her.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, as she sighed sipping her new flute.

“i’ll tell you later. we need to listen to the man of progress speak. i’m sure it’s important.” her smart ass getting the best of her as viktor side eyed her and then directed his eyes toward jayce.

jayce scanned the crowd, somewhat relaxing when he saw both his partners there.

“tonight, is a night of celebration, innovation and looking forward to progress!” he exclaimed, people cheering at that.

“we have been able to pave the way for faster travel, ease of trading leading to increased commerce opportunities for businesses in piltover all with the first hextech invention, the hexgates.” more cheers accompanied this as well as clapping. gripping onto viktors arm, she sighed.

“i have been honored to be referred to as the man of progress, but i do feel that it is not accurate.” there were now murmurs in the crowd at jayce’s words.

“as you see, there is not just one man of progress, there are two men of progress and one woman of progress.” gasps across the crowd flow. viktor looks at her and she up at him, confusion swimming in both your eyes.

“none of this would be possible with out my partners in hextech.” his hand reaching out as he read off both her and viktors names. claps and cheers coming from the crowd, slightly reserved as it was known in the inner circles who you both were. where you both came from. “we look forward to working harder than ever to bring you our next great invention, hextech travel. revolutionizing the way we can travel to different places, not just in piltover but in all of runeterra!” cheers erupt again. jayce waves and smiles as he gets off the stage and shakes a few hands, heading towards both his partners. both her and viktor look at him as he approaches you both, a bit sheepishly.

“mind if we talk outside?” jayce asks before either of them can speak, both she and viktor nodding and following him out.

“you were right.” his words directed at her.

“i mean, she normally is, but what is going on jayce?” viktor asks, as jayce sighs.

“we talked earlier today and i realized that i had been selfish. it is not just me working in hextech, it is both of you as well. you both should be credited with these inventions just as much as i am.” viktor frowned.

“i do not want to be in the spotlight.”

“you don’t have to be. i’ll keep making the speeches, talking to people, making deals from time to time. but from now on, people will know there are three founders of hextech.” jayce looked at both of his partners and she smiled up at him.

“you’ve not been selfish. i don’t think that’s the word. maybe, egotistical, inflated, big headed…” she trailed off a teasing smile on her face as viktor chuckled.

“thank you, jayce. i assume that you were the ones who got us these fancy outfits too?” viktor asked, after handing his cane to her to hold while fixing the lapel on jayce’s coat.

“had to make sure my partners matched with me.” jayce said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

the smile on her face threatened to split it. not happy for her own cause but ensuring viktor would forever be memorialized in connection with hextech.

“thank you, jayce.” she said, reaching up and kissing his cheek.

“thank you. i don’t know what i would do without you. without either of you.” jayce says looking at viktor as well.

—————————

“as jayce talis had stated, hextech was founded by three people, myself, jayce and viktor. erasing anyone from these works does a great disservice to their memory, legacy and the accuracy of our history.” she explained.

“‘a great disservice to their memory?’” one council member asks, disbelieving. “viktor, became a crazed man, creating himself into the machine herald and almost killed us all. people are scared. there must be something done!” this was met with a murmur of agreement.

“he almost killed us all!” another exclaims, upset and angry.

“you misunderstand me. i’m not asking for his flags to be flown around or even have a banner created of him for hextech. what i am saying is that on the schematics, the trademarks, the history of how the hexgates opened piltover, changed the trajectory of our city for good and created many new forms of technology infusing magic and science, that his name is not stricken from that. that his name is mentioned. he is explained. and at the end of the day our history explains why a child who had been part of chemical warfare between zaun and piltover, who came to piltover attempting to have a better life, eventually fell victim to the very disease he had contracted due to the chemicals piltover put in the air in zaun, but still tried to save others from his same fate.” the councils eyes widened. i turn to my left, seeing sevika present as the new council member for the undercity, recognizing her from a few run ins in the past when traveling down to the undercity for parts.

“this disease plagued zaun for years, is that not right?” you asked her.

“the gray? yeah. made people sick, making them dependent on shimmer, causing an endless loop of addiction. not to mention the limbs you can loose from it all too.” her gruff voice rang through the chamber.

council members looked at others across the table, next to them…

“i vote in favor of keeping all three names for the hextech founders accurate, for history, tradmarks and any correspondence. any marketing will just be focused on hextech itself. all those in favor?” sevika spoke, looking at her i slightly nod my head in thanks, my shoulders tight as i see across the table, one by one the council votes yes to the proposed idea, except three. majority rule though.

“you got what you want…. happy now?” a gruff voice of a new council member asked above all the chatter.

“very much so.” she said, ensuring everything was taken care i are of, before leaving.

—————————

the metal statues… if you could even call them that, are set up in a garden near the lab. making sure it had lilies, roses and poppy’s in there. three flowers and so much fauna, for the founders of hextech. at the center was jayce and viktor. she sat in the garden for hours on end, working on different things, talking to them or even just sleeping. finding that if she was sleeping and touching at least one of them, the nightmares weren’t so unbearable. she still wore the sleep deprived eye bags around like they were the new latest fashion.

after readjusting the plans for hextech, placing in safeguards and ensuring that the plans could be executed, she began to build a larger team. a team of great academy scientists, in engineering, biology, medicine…

with a collaborative foundation, the scientists with her at the helm drove forth 15 years of unprecedented and revolutionary progress. creating safe water ways for zaun and air with no pollution. creating hextech travel for all of runeterra. medical devices to help those needing mobility aides, in addition to cures to diseases that were listed as incurable.

she visited the garden the day they had found the cure to the disease the gray had created in the zaunite residents of the undercity.

“i’ve been working on hextech so much i’ve forgotten to visit. i’m sorry.” she whispers, setting down sunflowers for both men. “reminds me of you both.” her laugh is humorless and flat sounding.

“but i have some news. our team was able to do it. we found a cure for your disease viktor. those who are still afflicted with it will be able to be treated for it. they won’t have to suffer anymore.” she smiled and then looked up at viktors face, the machine heralds face. her hand reached up, caressing his cheek. “i’m just so sorry i couldn’t find it while you were alive. i wish i had. how our lives could have been different…”

“it’s so sad, because it’s been so long, vik.” she looked from his face and then back up to what his face was when he died. “it’s so hard to remember what you looked like. this wasn’t who you were. and you hated photos. thank god jayce sketched you. but it’s still not enough. and i fight so hard to make sure you are remembered.”

sitting down at his feet next to jayce, she sighed. “that both of you are.” she slumped over, looking at the ground. “i went to a wedding the other day. one of our scientists got married to their partners. one’s an architect, the other owns the bakery down the street. they remind me so much of us. it was so hard to be there, if i’m honest, because my mind wouldn’t quiet the ‘what ifs’.” the tears felt foreign to her as they slipped silently down her cheeks. she hadn’t cried since that day. the very day she-

“we would have worn house talis colors don’t worry. viktor would have looked dashing in them. gold always complimented your eyes so well vik. and the colors always seemed to just fit you jayce.” her hands fiddled with her own garment… crafted with house talis colors and zaunite colors, representing the partners who still laid claim to her life. she sighed again.

“i got back from the doctor the other day. my test results came back. i have three months to wrap everything up before the reaper catches up to me. ironic that it’s three months. the irony is not lost on me.” she chuckled humorously.

“i’ll be appointing leads for the research, people who can develop hextech since i’ll be six feet under. i think they can handle it though. they’ve made incredible strides.” she looked over at jayce, then up at viktor.

“i hope you’re both not so lost that i can’t find you or see you in the after life. i curse you both to be tied to me forever.” she jokingly laughed and got up, dusting off her pants.

“bye for now, my loves.”

—————————

fate was listening. it always is listening. will always listen.

—————————

“please… just take me to the garden.” she begged. looking up at the scientist who led the medical team and became a friend to her as she battled her illness. the hesitancy written on their face.

“damn it, i am dying. there’s no way around it. but at least let me be with them.” she whispers, their medical scientist’s eyes shine with understanding as they pick up her frail body and rush her to the garden. once there, they set her down gently at viktor’s feet.

“hi.” she whispers as her lungs seize. blood coating her hand as she just wipes it on her pant. the medical scientist tries to hand her water but she waves it away. “i think it’s time.” she holds viktors hand, a little cold but the same fingers she remembered nonetheless, and wrap her arm around jayce’s neck. “i hope i’ve made you proud. “ breathing heavy and labored. “i can’t wait to see you again.” her body relaxes more into her position, as she slumps over a bit, taking her final breath. her limbs turn to jello with her muscles relaxed and some how her arm stays around jayce and her hand in viktors, some how not falling, like they were holding her up.

____________. epilogue

the bright white of the fluorescent lights blinded her as she opened the shop up for the holidays. the darkness of 5 AM still cast the street in an eerie glow and made the shop light up like a honing beacon. she quickly turned on her holiday decorations and fairy lights. she blinked a few times and opened the front door so customers could start pouring in. filling the bakery case, then making herself a coffee she had already served 5 people. the day was a busy one, with so many customers blurring together and now thankfully almost ending.

“that’ll be $11.82.” she stated as her barista began making the order. closing the till she began helping the next customers, “welcome to hex and brew, what could we tempt you into?” she spews the greeting like she does every day. hearing two men talking doesn’t throw her off but it’s the accent of the one man. czech almost, soft but confident.

“you always get that damned gingerbread drink. why can’t you get something like crème brûlée?”

“well, because i like cinnamon and the sweet.” a sigh is heaved.

“we’ll get one gingerbread latte monstrosity and a black drip coffee. both large.” the voice now directed at her as she nodded.

“name for the order?” she asked, her throat dry for some reason and her body anxious, still writing the description of the drinks on the cups, not having looked up yet. writing off the feelings as her anxiety peaking during a rush.

“jayce is fine.” the other man responds and her hand freezes mid word, right in the middle of the words “black drip” on the second cup and finally looks up at them. her eyes meeting with the tallest-jayce- first. she shouldn’t have known who was who. she did though, as confusion, then shock and wonder settle. turning she looks at his partner.

his partner…

his partner……

her partner………

partners…

golden eyes meeting hers as the same emotions span across them as they did jayce’s. tears welling as his hands reached for hers, almost dropping everything he was holding. his hands were soft and warm, so unlike before. unlike the statue in her garden seemingly a lifetime ago. jayce’s hand reached up to cup her cheek. another lifetime of memories and love fill each of your thoughts.

“is it really you?” jayce asked

“miláček?” viktor questioned.

she breaks their connection, as their eyes widen and she quickly walks around the counter to them. “i couldn’t bare for anything else to separate us any longer.” she explained with a sad smile and a shrug, grabbing both their hands and pulling them into the back of the cafe where she had a cozy lounge break room for her and her team. “man the register?” she asked her friend behind the counter who nodded confused and started taking the next orders. once inside the break room, she shut the door, standing near it and not crossing over to the men on the other side. she closed her eyes as their presence agitated and reopened the gnarled wound that was in her chest from their absence. she always wondered why she felt this longing for someone, for people who were just like them. why none of the dates she went on never worked out. she had been waiting for them. the tears fell, ugly and fast. “of course it’s me…” her inhale is shuddering. “is it really you?” she asks, finally looking up at them, her eyes widening as both viktor and jayce’s faces are wet with tears. jayce makes the first move to her, he always made the first move, wrapping her in his abnormally large body. his warmth enveloping her, with the slight spiced scent that was just him. she cried harder.

“it’s me. it’s us. i promise.” jayce whispered. viktor came over, slithering his arm between jayce’s middle and hers. his other arm wrapping around her shoulder, pulling her against him too. clean musk fills the air as she turns a bit and takes her right arm wrapping it around viktors still small body.

“it’s us. it’s me. i-i am so sorry.” viktor whispers. she had never seen him cry before, but one time, in what felt like a lifetime ago talking about rio.

“viktor…” she trails off as his head is buried in her neck and they stay there, time holding no meaning to any of them. there would be a lot to talk about later, but for now, right now, they found each other again. that was enough.

this time, fate didn’t forget. this time, fate was forgiving. this time… fate favored the trio.

[nylloth]

My opinion about Arcane s2 (mostly Viktor)

I'm trying to be neutral on this, but I'm upset with what they did to Viktor.

I was wrong about their relationship with Sky (but I had hope), you can see he never really cared for her and the animators put their all into conveying that. Plus, let's say Sky represents Viktor's humanity and Viktor himself gives up on her. And it's a lot easier for him to give her up than it is for Jayce, who he's trying to show this new “world” to.

They have a lot of gay moments with Jayce, I don't know why the writers call it “family”. It's really hard to see family in that. It seems like at some point they decided to change the plot, because at the end Jayce and Viktor just disappear and no one just doesn't care what Jayce has with Mel.

The thing I didn't like the most was how they changed Ryze, that now Ryze is Viktor, the all-powerful mage. We know from the documentary that it was Ryze at one point. That would make more sense than Viktor traveling through time and constantly dooming himself to a series of miseries. But then again, they added the “all for Jayce” aspect to it.

You can see it's supposed to be a different character, right?

I really didn't like how they treated Sky because obviously she wasn't an evil manipulative core. Viktor killed her twice for his own purposes. Once by accident, the second time on purpose. Look, you add a girl who is IN LOVE with a man, make her die twice for him, and show WHY he doesn't care. It's a dirty act. Amanda said she was “proud to write Sky”, I don't know what there is to be proud of. As a woman, it was painful for me to watch. You didn't have to do that. Did you mean to say the character is gay? You don't have to humiliate women to do that.

I always hoped Viktor wouldn't have any romantic innuendos because feelings, for Herald, are a weakness. But the fact that they're indulging JayVik fans makes it look NOTHING like that. Like, I'm not a fan of this ship, but even I don't consider what they showed as brotherly feelings. Especially from Viktor's side. He is literally too concerned with Jayce's opinion.

I also think that the writers largely emphasized the clips and fights, but didn't add to the story itself. I mean Silco's deep thoughts in the first season on political topics and the theme of family in general was shown much better.

Herald is essentially non-existent. It's a character for the last two episodes who is immediately killed off because of a few words from Jayce. Viktor returns and they vaporize somewhere. I take it this is starting a recurring time loop.

They kind of tried to put in Viktor's “here he's come to the realization on his own that humanity is bad”, but they did it SO FAST and literally because of one event that it looked bad. Yeah, it's not about hexcore. VIKTOR SUPPOSEDLY CAME TO THIS ON HIS OWN. Why? Because Jayce shot him, and then Jayce helped him realize otherwise. No, really, what was that?

I also didn't like the redesign. I was hoping the mask would look different, but it looks HORRIBLE.

It's supposed to give the impression that Viktor “shut down and withdrew into himself”, they also tried to make him a “deity”, but since it only lasted 20 minutes before he went back to his normal state, it didn't make any sense… Anyway… I sympathize with everyone who loved Viktor specifically, outside jayvik ship (happy for you guys). I know they are excited, but this is not Viktor's story. You see, Viktor doesn't have his own personal story now, he's too connected to Jayce. You could say he did everything and nothing at the same time. Because he keeps running this time loop, but he's running it because of Jayce's influence.

Waiting for his updated lore to read….. idk I'll read it and forget it like a bad dream.

[tired-truffle]

Even the Gods Cry For Us

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 5.7k

Part 13/17

Tag list: @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @potatointhedirt (if anyone else would like to be tagged with future updates let me know!)

"Sometimes we don't want to heal because the pain is the last link to what we’ve lost." - J.M. Storm

Masterlist

“You have to be good at something.” Charlotte shook her head, sighing her exasperation.

“Evidently, my skills don’t lie in anything we’ve tried so far.” The tangled mess of knitting to your side taunted you. You must have been capable of doing some things back in your world. Why was it that when you’d come to Runeterra, you’d been unable to do most basic activities and chores with any sort of success? Had that been the price of having magic? 

Seemed like a strange trade, but it wasn’t like you’d had much of a choice - nor would you have chosen any other option if it meant you didn’t get to meet Viktor. 

“Charlotte,” you started, a thought occurring to you, entirely separate from the topic at hand, “why are they called “the Firelights’?”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow, “I would imagine it has something to do with firelights, but given that I’m not a member, I haven’t a clue.”

That did very little to answer your question, so you pushed on. “What exactly is a firelight?”

Charlotte narrowed her eyes at you. “Are you pulling my leg, girl? How could you not know what a firelight is? Greenish glowing butt bugs that fly around at night mostly, they’re everywhere.”

You had seen insects matching that description, but that still made little sense to you. “You mean fireflies?”

From the look Charlotte gave you, you would have thought you’d asked her to eat one of the supposed firelights. With a huff, she shook her head. “You say the darndest things sometimes.” She turned towards the next tent, seeing something that caught her eye, “You wait here, I’ll be right back.”

You’d barely had time to voice your confirmation when a clear container with one of your sparks floating idly around broke through your line of sight, two small hands grasping it on either side. 

Blinking, you lowered your gaze until you came upon the proudly grinning face of the young girl you’d met on the way to Stillwater. 

“Oh, hello,” you said with a smile, relief flooding through you and making your limbs weaken. You crouched down to her height and suppressed the waver in your voice. “I’m so happy to see you’re alright. Though I didn’t expect that you’d still have one of my sparks.”

You poked the container, the spark inside zipping around as it reacted to your touch. The girl grinned wider, her helmet flopping as he tilted her head to the side.

“Isha!” A girl called from behind you, and though you’d never met her in person before, you’d heard her speak in a vision and recognized the voice instantly; it belonged to Jinx. “What are you doing? You can’t just go running off like that. Get back here!”

Your vision blurred without warning, the world around you fading into a hazy orange glow.

Isha, unmistakable in her painted helmet and little blue braids, sprinted through a war-torn landscape. Smoke billowed from all directions, and the air was thick with the acetic scent of burning flesh. Her large boots slapped against blood-slicked ground as she dodged debris and fallen bodies. The spark container, now cracked and dirty, bounced on her hip.

You watched, helpless, as she darted between clashing soldiers. Their weapons clanged in bursts of crackling energy and sprays of crimson. Isha weaved through them with a desperate grace, her eyes wide with determination and fear.

For a fleeting moment, you caught a glimpse of a circular structure in the distance, the ceiling blown out; this was the commune.

But before you could grasp any further details, you were launched back into your body, swaying as you adjusted to the difference in time.

Useless, as always. Warning you of things to come but not how to stop it. You clenched your fists at your side, exhaling shakily.

Isha stared up at you, her large eyes wide with wonder. It had been a long time since you’d had a vision in front of anyone who wasn’t Viktor, but you couldn’t blame her for being curious about your glowing eyes. 

You cleared your throat and straightened, trying to shake off the lingering disorientation from the vision. The world around you seemed to snap back into focus, colours intensifying as your eyes readjusted. Isha still gazed up at you, her mouth slightly agape, the spark container clutched tightly to her chest.

Before you could say anything, a blur of vibrant colours rushed past you. Jinx skidded to a halt, her long, blue braids whipping around her torso as she grabbed Isha's hand. The older girl's chest heaved, clearly out of breath from chasing after Isha.

"Sorry about her," Jinx began, her words tumbling out in a rushed stream. "She's just so curious about everything, wouldn’t know a warf-rat was dangerous unless it bit her on the—"

Jinx's rambling apology cut off abruptly as her gaze met yours. Her eyes, a striking shade of pink - so similar to your own - narrowed suspiciously. The manic energy that had propelled her forward seemed to evaporate, replaced by a wary stillness that set your nerves on edge.

“Have I…seen you somewhere before? You look awfully familiar.” 

“Oh, uh, probably not.” You had never been a good liar. “I just have one of those faces.”

She rocked back on her heels, her braids swaying as she eyed the floating sparks. “Think I’d remember a mage in the city that famously hates mages. Have you always had…these?”

She waved at the sparks, and Isha raised her container, shaking it for Jinx to see and blessedly diverting her attention, allowing you to avoid her question.

You watched as Jinx's eyes darted between you and the spark container, and you could almost taste the sour tang of her suspicion.

"Isha, give the lady her…thing back," Jinx said, her voice unnaturally slow and deliberate. Her eyes never left your face, searching for something - recognition, perhaps, or deceit.

"It's okay," you said quickly, holding up your hands in a display of innocence. "It's a gift. She can keep it."

The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them, surprising even yourself. But as you gazed at Isha's hopeful face, framed by those bright blue braids and the oversized helmet, you knew you couldn't bear to take it back. The spark inside the container seemed to pulse in agreement, casting a soft, ethereal glow on the child's round cheeks. Besides, you had plenty more of them, you could do with one less.

Jinx's eyebrows shot up. "A gift? You're just handing out magical…whatever-these-are to random kids?" She laughed, a sharp, disbelieving sound. "That's either really generous or really stupid. Maybe both."

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant despite the nervous flutter in your chest. "It's harmless, I promise. Just a bit of light, really."

Jinx's eyes narrowed again, her gaze boring into you with an intensity that made you want to squirm. "Are you sure we haven't met before? There's something about you that's just so familiar."

Your heart raced, and you could feel a bead of sweat forming at the nape of your neck. You desperately wished for Viktor's steadying presence, his logical mind that could navigate these treacherous conversational waters. But he wasn't here, and you were left to flounder on your own.

"I-I don't think so," you stammered, cursing your inability to lie convincingly.

Jinx tilted her head, her long braids swaying like colourful pendulums. "Huh. Weird. Could've sworn I'd seen your face before. Maybe in a dream or something." She shrugged, her restless energy returning as quickly as it had vanished. "Ah, well. C'mon, Isha. Let's let the nice glowy lady get back to her glowing in peace."

Jinx started to turn away, then paused. She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Word of advice, Sparkles. If you're gonna lie, at least try to make it believable. You're worse at it than a Piltie trying to blend in down here."

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, but before you could stammer out a response, Jinx was already moving. Isha waved goodbye from Jinx's side, the spark container clutched tightly in her other hand. You watched them disappear into the commune, your mind reeling from the encounter. The lingering image of your vision - Isha running through a battlefield that happened to be in your home - overlapped with the reality of her cheerful farewell.

And all it did was strike panic into your heart, with no way to stop that disaster from happening.

“Somehow, that doesn’t shock me.” You sighed, wiping your hand down your face. “Vander died but was revived and mutated into a feral wolf creature and now his adopted daughters have brought him to you to bring him back to himself.”

Viktor had filled you in, and you’d shared with him the contents of your vision of Isha. Worrying as it was, there wasn’t much that either of you could do about it except keep an eye out for trouble. If only you’d been able to get a better look at the soldiers, but with all that dust and carnage, you hadn’t been able to make out any identifying marks.

“That about sums it up, yes.” Viktor disconnected himself from the wires, floating down to stand beside you with quiet clacks as his feet touched the ground. 

“And you think you can do that?” You’d encountered him that night at Stillwater, all feral rage and brutality, like a rabid dog unleashed on a burrow of bunnies. 

He smiled, trailing his fingers down your cheeks. “I do, though I would greatly appreciate your assistance.”

“You…” you frowned, unsure what exactly he thought you could do, “want me to help?”

“I do.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his other hand resting on your hip and tracing little circles through the fabric of your clothes. “You have the most experience with losing yourself beneath layers of pain and fear, and your ability to return my emotions has been extraordinary. You’re the perfect candidate.” 

You snorted, but could do little to cover your blush when his face was so close to yours, watching you with an ardour that made your stomach ripple. “Flatterer.” 

“Eh, it’s simply the truth.” He inched closer to you, and you tilted your chin up in response. But as your eyes fluttered closed, his lips ghosting over yours, you were rudely interrupted. 

“Huh, didn’t expect the metal fortune cookie to have a girlfriend, but I guess everyone has a type.” Jinx leaned against the entryway, arms crossed lazily. “Don’t stop on my account, I’m curious about how this works.” 

With an exasperated but tolerant sigh, Viktor stepped back. “You have a vast imagination, Jinx, I’m certain you could figure it out. But perhaps there are better uses for your time.” Jinx rolled her eyes and you coughed to cover your choke. Viktor’s eyes sparkled with mirth, and he continued, “Milá was just agreeing to aid me with Vander.”

You didn’t remember agreeing to anything, but best to present a united front, right? 

“Hard to agree when you’ve got a tongue down your throat,” Jinx grumbled, and you resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of your nose. “But how can a sparkly mage help anyway?” 

“I’d have to see him first to really get a sense of what I could do. My magic is tied to emotions, so I could potentially connect to his, but my magic is still relatively new, I don’t have the best grasp of its potential,” you answered, stepping forward. “I’d only do it if you want me to try. He’s your father.”

Jinx pursed her lips, considering your words as her vibrant pink eyes darted about the floor. With a huff, she blew her bangs out from her face. “I’ll talk to Vi,” she said at last. “Isha likes you, so you can’t be all bad. I’ll make sure she knows.”

Without further ado, Jinx turned on her heel, sauntering away with a causal “Toodles!” tossed over her shoulder.

You watched Jinx's retreating form, her braids swaying with each step. As her footsteps faded, you turned back to Viktor.

"Well," you sighed, "that was…interesting."

Viktor's lips quirked into a small smile. "Indeed.” And without missing a beat, he added, “Shall we take a walk while we give the girls some time to debate our assistance?”

You took his offered hand, beaming at him. “I would love to.”

Your eyes were drawn to a massive shape hunched in the corner of the greenhouse. Vander - or what used to be Vander - crouched behind a row of leafy ferns. His fur was matted and dull, piercing eyes peering out from the foliage, wary and wild. A low growl rumbled from his throat as you entered. Compared to the last time you saw him, this was a vast improvement - the green of the tank on his back a much more pleasant colour than the vibrant red.

Vi stood protectively in front of him, her stance tense and ready for a fight. Her pink hair was dishevelled, dark circles around her eyes. She was every bit the fiery woman you’d heard her to be, you only wished your visions could have helped her before that haunted look soaked permanently into her features. Jinx lounged on a nearby rock, legs swinging, but her casual posture contradicted the sharpness in her gaze. Little Isha sat cross-legged on the ground, surrounded by a semicircle of multicoloured pebbles she must have taken from the garden beds.

“So,” Vi kicked at the ground, her hands shoved in the pockets of her scuffed-up pants, “you’re the mage that wants to help Vander?”

“Mila,” you corrected gently, “much easier to say than all of that. But yes, I am.” 

“Right,” Vi nodded, eyes darting to Jinx who was pretending not to pay attention, fiddling with the ends of her braids.

You shifted your stance, feeling the weight of Vi's scrutiny. Her eyes, exhausted and wary, bored into you. The greenhouse's humidity clung to your skin, making you acutely aware of every bead of sweat forming on the small of your back.

"So, how exactly does this magic of yours work?" Vi's voice was gruff, laced with skepticism.

You took a deep breath, searching for the right words. "It's…complicated," you began, your gaze drifting to the sparks that danced around you. They pulsed gently as if encouraging you. "My magic is tied to emotions. It's like a bridge between hearts, I guess."

Vi's eyebrow arched, her lips pursing. "A bridge?"

"Yes," you nodded, warming to the metaphor. "I can sense emotions, sometimes even influence them. It's like reaching out and touching someone's soul, feeling what they feel. Though I’ve only done it a handful of times. It's recently only started to cooperate."

As you spoke, a spark drifted towards Isha. The little girl's eyes widened, her hand reaching out to touch it. The spark danced just beyond her fingertips, casting a soft blue glow on her face.

"I'm still learning," you admitted, watching the interaction and deciding it was best to be honest about your inexperience. "It's not an exact science so I can’t make any promises that it’ll make a difference."

Vi softened slightly, her eyes flickering to Vander's huddled form. "And you think this can help him?"

You nodded, trying to project more confidence than you felt. "If I could reach the part of him that's still him, beneath everything else, maybe - and I want to emphasize the maybe - I can help bring him back."

Vi chewed her lip, her gaze darting between you, Viktor, and Vander. The greenhouse fell silent, save for the gentle rustling of leaves and Vander's occasional growl. Even Jinx had stopped fidgeting, her sharp eyes fixed on her sister.

Finally, Vi's shoulders sagged. "Alright," she said. "You’re the healer,” she nodded her head at Viktor, “if you think it could work, well, we'll take all the help we can get."

A wave of relief washed over you, tinged with nervous anticipation. You prayed you wouldn't let them down, they’d had enough disappointment in their lives already.

With a reassuring nod from Viktor, you slowly made your way toward Vander, your heart hammering against your ribcage with each hesitant step.

Vander tracked your every movement. His massive form tensed as you drew near, muscles rippling beneath matted fur. A low, rumbling growl vibrated through the space, the hair at the nape of your neck standing on end.

When you were just a few feet away, you slowly lowered yourself to one knee. The cool stone seeped through your clothes, grounding you. You took a deep breath, inhaling the rich, earthy scent of the greenhouse. Your sparks danced around you, casting shifting patterns of light across Vander's fur.

"Hello, Vander," you said, barely above a whisper. You smiled, hoping to convey warmth and safety. "You've raised two incredible daughters. Strong, brave, and fiercely loyal. You must be so proud."

At the mention of his daughters, something flickered in Vander's eyes. The growl faded, replaced by a softer rumble. His massive head tilted slightly, regarding you with what might have been curiosity.

Encouraged, you continued, "They love you so much, and they haven’t given up on you. That speaks volumes about the father you were and still are."

Vander's posture relaxed slightly, his shoulders lowering from their defensive hunch. You could feel the shift in the air, the tension easing ever so slightly.

Taking a deep breath, you reached out with your magic. It unfurled from you like tendrils of light, invisible to the others but brilliant in your mind's eye. As your magic touched Vander, a surge of warring emotions crashed over you.

Pain, raw and searing, engulfed you and ripped you apart from the inside out. Your chest constricted, muscles tensing as you fought against the urge to scream. But beneath the physical agony lay a deeper, gnawing anguish that clawed at your insides, threatening to hollow you out.

Grief followed, a bottomless well of sorrow that drowned you. The sound of screams echoed in your ears and the weight of responsibility crushed down on broad shoulders.

You gritted your teeth, forcing yourself to breathe through the onslaught. Sweat beaded on your forehead, your hands trembling with the effort of maintaining the connection.

You pushed further, digging deeper. That couldn’t be all there was, there had to be something else beneath, something to keep him going. You felt it then. Love. Pure, fierce, unconditional love. Love for Vi and Jinx, burning bright and unfaltering. Love for Zaun - not just the place, but its people. Vander's pride in the resilience of the Undercity, his admiration for those who carved out lives amidst a sea of injustice.

But these were all just pieces of him, to truly sort through such a complex web… The strands of his emotions writhed and pulsed, each one lashing out to ensnare you. Fear coiled around your ankles like a skeletal hand while rage burned hot against your skin. Despair hung heavy in your lungs, thick and cloying, making it difficult to breathe. Echoes of explosions reverberated in your ears, punctuated by the heart-wrenching cries of children. Your vision blurred with tears - were they yours or Vander's? It was impossible to tell where you ended and he began.

You pulled back, gasping for air as if you'd been underwater. Your lungs burned, and your head spun with lingering echoes of Vander. Sweat trickled down your temples, and your hands shook as you pushed yourself to your feet.

"He’s all tangled up like barbed wire. It's a maze in there." You closed your eyes, trying to steady yourself as the world tilted around you. "But I think…I think I might be able to help unravel them. It could make it easier for Viktor to pry his consciousness out of the pain."

You’d seen that glimmer of love within him, and while it was surrounded by horror, there had to be some way to reach it and pull it out without ripping it to shreds.

Vi's eyes lit up with desperate hope, while Jinx leaned forward, her vibrant energy subdued. "You can do that?" Vi asked as though she was afraid of your answer.

You nodded, then immediately regretted it as a wave of dizziness washed over you. Viktor’s hand on your elbow steadied you, and you leaned into his touch. "Maybe," you amended, not wanting to give false hope. "It's not a guarantee, but it's a chance."

“A chance is better than what we had a day ago.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Viktor took the opportunity to cut in. "We will do everything we can to restore Vander," he said, his hand still steady on your elbow. "However, this process will require concentration and a calm environment."

Jinx snorted, twirling one of her braids around her finger. "Yeah, because this greenhouse is such a party central."

Viktor's lips twitched, suppressing a smile. "Nevertheless, Milá and I will need space to work. Perhaps you'd like to explore the commune? There are quite a few fascinating innovations I'm sure you'd appreciate."

Vi nodded, her gaze lingering on Vander, reluctant to part from him. "Right, yeah. We should…we should go." She turned to Jinx and Isha, gesturing towards the door.

Jinx hopped off her perch, stretching languidly. "Ooh, alone time with the boyfriend, huh?" she said, wiggling her eyebrows at you. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

"Jinx!" Vi hissed, glowering at Jinx. "This isn't the time for-"

"Relax, sis," Jinx laughed, slinging an arm around Vi's shoulders. "I'm just lightening the mood. Come on, let's go see what kind of trouble we can get into out there. Let the magic people do their magic thing."

As they left, Isha trailing behind them with her pebbles clutched in her tiny fists, you turned back to Vander. The massive creature watched you with wary eyes, but there was something else there now - a glimmer of recognition, perhaps even hope.

And you would hold onto that hope as hard as you could.

You spent the next several days immersed in Vander's tangled psyche. Each morning, you and Viktor settled into a rhythm - you'd reach out with your magic, creating a bridge of calm amidst the choppy waves and cries of Vander's emotions, while Viktor carefully probed at his consciousness.

The landscape of Vander's mind was a treacherous terrain. You navigated through dark caverns of despair, their walls slick with grief and mildew. Jagged peaks of rage jutted up suddenly, forcing you to climb hand over foot, your fingers bloodied by the time you reached the summit. Vast deserts of emptiness stretched as far as the eye could see, mirages of hope shimmering on the horizon only to vanish as you drew near.

But there were moments of beauty too. Oases of love, verdant and lush, where memories of Vi and Jinx as children played like a sweet melody. You lingered in these spaces, drawing strength from the pure joy that radiated from them.

As Viktor worked, you often had to soothe Vander. His emotions would flare up like a wounded animal, lashing out in fear and pain. You'd bundle him up in blankets of calm, whispering reassurances that echoed through the chambers of his mind. "It's okay," you'd murmur, your voice carrying the weight of conviction. "You're safe. We're here to help. Your daughters love you, remember that."

Sometimes, the intensity of it all overwhelmed you. You'd emerge from the trance gasping, your body drenched in sweat, trembling from the effort. Viktor would be there, his cool metal hand on your back, grounding you. "Take a moment," he'd say, his lilting voice a balm to your frayed nerves. "You're doing wonderfully."

As the days passed, you began to see progress. The tangled web of emotions began to loosen, threads of coherent thought weaving through the madness. Vander's growls grew less frequent, replaced by moments of lucidity where his eyes would focus, recognition flickering in their depths - and on the odd day, he would speak in short sentences.

You delved deeper and deeper into Vander's mind. The familiar landscape unfolded before you, but something new caught your attention - a pulsing thread of foreign feeling, steady and persistent.

Your curiosity sparked and you followed it, weaving through the intricate network of thoughts and emotions until you brushed against something unexpected - Viktor's presence. You hadn’t come into contact with him while buried deep in Vander’s psyche - as much as you had wanted to. This wasn’t about you and Viktor, this was about Vander. Yet you’d spent so much time moving within Vander’s emotions, wadding through his baser instincts, that they had started to rub off on you, and your ability to catch yourself before pursuing your desires was waning.

His essence was cool and precise, like the edge of a finely honed blade. But there, nestled at its core, was a swirling knot of guilt. It throbbed with a dull, aching constancy, weighing down Viktor's spirit like an anchor.

Pulling yourself towards it, you cradled the knot of guilt in your arms, finding it surprisingly heavy for something intangible. It pulsed against your chest, a living thing made of regret and sorrow. You curled around it, assuming a fetal position on the edge of Vander's mind, feeling the raw emotion seep into your core.

"Viktor," you whispered, your voice echoing through the mental landscape, "what is this?"

You sensed his spirit recoil, like a wounded animal shrinking from a helping hand. The cool precision of his essence wavered, uncertainty bleeding through. Viktor's spirit drifted closer, then further away, indecisive. You longed to reach out, to offer comfort, but the gulf between you felt insurmountable. Instead, you hugged the ball of guilt tighter, as if by shouldering Viktor's burden you could somehow ease his pain.

Slowly, reluctantly, you extricated yourself from Vander's mind. The physical world rushed back, a cacophony of sensations after the ethereal landscape you'd been navigating. You blinked, adjusting to the dim light of the greenhouse.

Vander lay on the ground, his massive form twitching slightly. His ears flicked irritably, the only outward sign that he was aware of your presence. You watched him for a moment, wondering how such a turbulent inner world could be contained in a seemingly peaceful exterior.

Viktor withdrew from Vander's mind with a sharp intake of breath, his multi-coloured eyes snapping open. He stared at you, his face carefully blank, but you could see the tension in the tightness of his jaw, the rigidness of his hands as he clasped them in his lap.

You stood cautiously, your legs wobbly from hours of sitting motionless. The small greenhouse felt thick and oppressive after the vast expanse of Vander's mind. Sweat collected on your forehead, and you wiped it away with a shaky hand. Viktor's gaze never wavered, following your every movement with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

You motioned for him to follow, not trusting yourself to speak. Your feet carried you deeper into the greenhouse, past rows of shimmering plants and budding flowers.

At last, you reached the bench tucked away in the furthest corner. You sat, patting the space beside you. Viktor hesitated, his body language screaming discomfort. After a long moment, he lowered himself onto the bench, perching on the edge as if ready to bolt at any second.

You tried not to think about the last time you'd sat here together, when playful banter had given way to heated touches and breathless sighs. The memory of his lips on your skin, his hands exploring every curve, almost derailing your thoughts. You shoved it aside, focusing on the tense line of Viktor's shoulders, the way his fingers drummed an anxious rhythm on his thigh.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the conversation ahead.

"Viktor," you began, your voice pitched low, "I felt something in there. Something that wasn't Vander's." You paused, searching for the right words. "It was you. Your guilt. It's eating you alive, isn't it?"

Panic flashed in his eyes before he schooled his gaze back into careful neutrality. "I don't know what you mean," he said, but his voice lacked conviction.

He had always been rather obstinate about accepting help, but you hadn’t let that stop you from offering it before. You reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing your hand on his arm. "It's okay," you said. "You can talk to me. You’ve been there for me so many times, let me be here for you."

You watched as emotions warred across his face - fear, shame, longing. He was silent for several beats before he found his voice. "It's Sky," he admitted, his voice cracking. "I see her whenever I am…working." He laughed bitterly. "I know it's not truly her. It can't be. But…"

"But it feels real," you finished for him, well acquainted with how disorienting it can be to be unable to banish a vision you knew to be false.

Viktor nodded, his shoulders slumping. "She's a manifestation of my guilt. My failure. I should have protected her. I should not have been so reckless.”

You squeezed his arm gently, cutting off his spiral of self-recrimination. "You didn’t know that she’d come to the lab so late."

He shook his head vehemently. "You don't understand. If I had been more careful, if I had thought it through—"

“I don’t understand?” You hadn’t meant to cut him off, but you simply couldn’t get past those first three words. “Out of everyone else in this entire world, I may be the only other one who does understand.”

Viktor's eyes widened and he opened his mouth, then closed it again, words failing him. You watched as he struggled, his usual eloquence deserting him in the face of his own oversight.

"I…you're right," he managed. "I apologize. That was incredibly thoughtless of me."

The greenhouse fell silent, save for the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant hum of life outside. A bead of condensation rolled down a nearby leaf, catching the light and scattering it in a tiny rainbow. You focused on it, gathering your thoughts.

"It's okay," you said at last, your voice soft but steady. You turned to face Viktor fully, taking in the lines of exhaustion corroding his features, the way his shoulders hunched as if pressed beneath a mountain. "But you know you aren't alone in this, right? I miss her too."

The words hung in between you, fragile as spun glass. Viktor closed his eyes, his expression twisting with grief so raw it made your heart ache.

You reached out, your fingers intertwining with his. "Sky was like starlight. Brilliant and beautiful and gone too soon. But her light touched so many of us. We all carry a piece of her."

And above all else, you knew those words to be true, felt them resound in your soul.

"I’m afraid I did not know her as well as I should have. Will you tell me?" he asked, barely audible. "Tell me what you remember?"

Talking about Sky came as easily as rain did from heavy clouds - though it did not stop your heart from aching. You spoke of Sky's laughter, how it would bubble up from deep inside her, infectious and bright. You recalled the way she'd furrow her brow when concentrating, her tongue poking out just slightly. You described the feeling of her hugs, fierce and warm, as if she could pour all her love into you through that simple gesture.

As you talked, the tension slowly bled from Viktor's frame. His grip on your hand loosened, though he didn't let go. His forehead smoothed out, and his breathing evened. You could almost see the weight lifting from his shoulders, shared between the two of you now.

When your words finally ran dry, a comfortable silence settled over you both. The greenhouse had grown darker, the setting sun painting the glass walls in shades of orange and pink. A cool breeze whispered through the leaves, carrying the scent of night-blooming flowers. You could have sworn you smelled her perfume, floral and clean, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared.

A memory surfaced, sharp and clear. That first night after Viktor had awoken from his Hexcore-induced slumber, when you'd thought you were hallucinating Sky's ghostly form. Viktor had seen her too. You'd been so caught up in the nervousness of being unwell while navigating the Undercity streets, you'd almost forgotten about that strange, shared moment.

"Wait," you said, sitting up straighter. "When we were walking here after we’d left your childhood house, I saw Sky, and you said you could see her too. I’d almost forgotten it, but…" You trailed off, watching Viktor's face carefully.

His eyes widened in recognition. "I remember," he said softly. "I thought it was a side effect of the Hexcore. Or that I was going mad." He let out a shaky breath. "I still don’t entirely know what it was, if I’m being candid.”

“That thing you carry isn’t Sky, I can feel that much.”

“That’s a relief, I would not wish to imprison her in my mind.”

"It's not her,” you reaffirmed. “But maybe it's a part of her. Something she left behind." You paused, choosing your words carefully. "What if it's not just guilt manifesting? What if it's a gift?"

Viktor's forehead pinched, his thick eyebrows bunching up. "A gift? How could my failure be a gift?"

"Not your failure," you said, shaking your head. "Her legacy. Her drive to help others and make a difference. Maybe she left that with you to carry on."

Viktor was silent for a long moment, his gaze distant. When he spoke, his voice was thick and rough. "I never thought of it that way."

"You’re honouring her memory by helping others. That’s what she wanted above all else; for everyone to be given the tools they needed to thrive, to live peacefully and free from suffering." You leaned against him, wrapping your arm around his as you rested your head on his shoulder. “She’d be so proud of everything you’ve done.”

"She would be proud of you too," he said. "For all you've managed to overcome, the people you've helped."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words died on your lips as memories flooded your mind. Charlotte's joyful glow as she regaled you with tales of her daughter. Stillwater, where your shield had stood firm against the Vander’s attacks, saving those who’d have been shredded without it. And now Vander himself, his fractured psyche slowly knitting back together under your patient support.

“Yeah,” you smiled, small and bittersweet, “I guess she would be.”

Next Chapter

A/N: Missing my girl Sky :’(

Buckle up everyone, we are getting to the big stuff! Only 4 more chapters left...

[thefandomsfervent]

Personal Pigments Viktor x Reader (Part 3) - Ultramarine Light

Find my imagine that inspired it here. Previous and next chapter will be linked at the bottom. Thank you for reading <3

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Heimerdinger took that as his cue to leave and left the three of you to start sorting things out amongst yourselves. Most of your peers had been able to come up with simple plans for their work. Meet with their subjects maybe once a week or a couple times a month, set up dates for portrait work, and just settle into a new temporary life at the Academy until the work was done. It was basically a residency. Complete with two rooms provided for each artist, one for living and one as a studio. You, however, had other ideas. 

“You want to paint? In here?” The incredulous tone in Viktor’s voice amused you, almost. 

“No, I want to study you. In here.” You pick up a piece of paper. Jayce puts a comforting hand on the broad plane of Viktor’s back when he makes a ridiculous face in response. 

“How many portraits have you seen that were just utterly… lifeless? No real emotion, no sign of an actual person. Just another rich show-off and maybe a pet or two.” The paper was a cold press watercolor sheet, and on it was a still life. A plant with big fronds, a blank vase, some flowers and fruits scattered on the table. “Every artist makes choices to better their work.” You pick up another piece of paper, the same still life done on hot press paper instead. “Look at these two sheets, what differences do you see?” 

They both look at the papers, Jayce chiming in first. “They’re the same picture.” 

“They are, but they aren’t.” You point to a pool of color on the cold press. “This paper has a rougher texture, it holds the pigment in small pockets. But this one,” pointing to the same spot on the hot press paper, “is smooth, the color is flatter, dimensionality has to be built with several washes of color. On the other paper, I let the texture do some of the work for me.”

“Your point is what exactly?” Viktor grabs one of the papers, looking at it closely. His thick brows knitting together and his nose scrunching.

“Some choices I can’t make without knowing who you are and what you do. This painting is supposed to sit in a gallery hall for years to come, it’s supposed to represent you both. I don’t want someone to just look at it and leave, learning nothing about the two of you.” You take the paper back from him, his fingers surprisingly warm. You hold the two papers up. “What else do you notice?”

This time it’s Viktor who answers. “The colours, they are different. The one on the left,” the cold press, “is sharper.” He slowly swirls a thin finger in the general direction. 

“Yes!” You feel a small sense of pride and try to tamp it down. “These were painted at different times of day, the one on the left was painted in the morning. See the shadows here are different from the ones here. The one on the right was painted at night. I used different papers to convey the way your eyes focus in different lights. The colors are different because the lighting was different.” 

“So you want to see us in different lighting?” Jayce asks, he sounds confused but he’s being attentive. And you appreciate that.

“Metaphorically speaking, yes. I want to show people the different sides to you. I want to get to know you both, where do you put the weight in your feet when you stand? Are you a morning or night person, how do you like your tea, little mementos and personal attributes to bring you to life on the canvas.” You put the papers down. “We don’t need to be friends, and I can keep to myself if you prefer. But being here can help me make this painting shine with the humanity of your creations.” 

A small hum comes from Viktor. He looks to his partner for his own thoughts on the matter. The tan man looks between you, your works, and Viktor. “It’s a big lab, I don’t really mind. Just don’t touch anything without asking.”

“I return the sentiment. You guys aren’t the only ones with expensive materials.”

And expensive they were. It had been a little over a week since that first day. Since then, there has been a lot of… collecting. You needed to move from the Institute to the Academy, that meant moving all of your supplies, your clothes, heavy easels, large rolls of canvas, etc,. You were very busy that first week, simply sorting and organizing, deciding what to and not to bring. By the time you were fully settled, the Academy was coming back to life. You were offered help to move everything but you weren’t sure how much you could really trust the enforcers to actually treat your items with care. Lugging easels and bags was one thing, the delicate items were somehow infinitely more stressful to transport.

Carrying your hand mixed pigments was a battle of its own. Small glass jars clinking in the box, you had refused to carry them with anything else, these needed to be moved with care. The last thing you needed to set up. You had gone on an early morning, trying to beat the hustle and bustle. Thankfully the students here were pretty cautious. Turns out holding corrosive materials and fragile components of their own made them VERY mindful of boxes and corners. The move had gone off without a hitch. Your new studio was cleaner than any other you’ve seen before, and your room was more spacious than you were used to. The space was… nice? If not a little overwhelming in its domestic vastness. Even in the Institute the rooms were decent yet not so grand. “Piltover’s finest indeed.” 

It made you appreciate the lab and this opportunity to work in it. Jayce and Viktor were clean but not tidy. Their maneuverable chaos in the lab reminded you of the art studios back at the Institute. They had a spot cleared for you. You told them you didn’t need much room, just enough for an adjustable work table and easel. Your whole set-up was easy to move by yourself. It meant that you could move anywhere in the lab if you needed to, not that you had yet. In fact, today was your first real day there. 

Today you had plans to get things organized and maybe mix some new paints if you were lucky. Today you’re holding onto a small box of pastries. After spending the past week carting your materials around you were itching to actually start doing something. You were also anxious to get the awkward moments out of the way. No more wrong turns in the maze like hallways, no more procrastinating. Today you had a peace offering and willpower. 

You give the door to the lab a harsh tug, the weight of it pushing you back as it swings open. Viktor didn’t whip his head around like he did that first day you entered. Instead, he keeps working with his goggles on. His fluffy chestnut hair bunching out of the sides, illuminated by the blue sparks flying through the air. Jayce steps out from behind his partner and offers you a small wave. 

“Joining us for a full day today?” He walks over as Viktor puts down his tools. 

“With treats!” You lift the box with one hand while moving to your spot. “I didn’t know what you guys liked, so I got a few different ones.” Viktor still hasn’t said anything but the small rise in his brow shows surprise. Jayce opens the box and the smell of toasted sugar and browned butter starts to diffuse through the room. Inside there are six pastries. Half of them had some kind of fresh fruit and cream combination. The other half were topped in sprinkled sugars, spices, and drizzles. 

“Thank you! What for?” He’s already lifting one up for a bite and holding the box out for Viktor to choose from. 

“I recognize that this arrangement came out of the blue for you guys.” You’re getting settled and you watch the two of them interact. They don’t exactly move in sync, but in familiarity. “I figured it couldn’t hurt to sweeten the deal.” You wiggle your fingers towards the box when Viktor grabs a pastry loaded with blueberries and chantilly cream. 

“Are you fond of puns?” He asks before holding it up to his face, his nimble fingers cradling it trying to avoid the mess. He opens his mouth for a bite, the cream swiping the tip of his nose. 

“On occasion.” you say, handing Jayce a napkin. You gesture to Viktor with it before returning to your table. “Help yourselves, I have my own stash.” Looking at the two of them again, it’s easy to see the affection they share. You’re not entirely certain how far the term partner goes. They are so gentle with each other. Jayce gives Viktor the napkin, tapping his own nose with a finger as an indicator. The man nods before swiping at his face with the thin paper. It’s sweet. Romantic or otherwise you find yourself very intrigued and wanting to know more. As the men settle into their routine the soft sounds of paper and pencils scraping on a tabletop adds to the ambiance.

╚═*✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧-✦-✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧*═╝

---------------.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ Part 2-.-Part 4·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .---------------

------------‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙· Master Fic List *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊--------------

[erenash]

Kiss Me on the Mouth, Love Me like a Sinner (JayVik)

Jayce Talis is grieving and goes to a confession booth almost every day to repent and try to heal.

Plot Twist: The Priest is Viktor!! YAY

-------

I don't own any rights to these characters.

Don't like it? Don't read.

Everything I know about this kind of stuff is from Flea Bag edits, so you've been warned.

TW: depression, mild drinking, mentions of grief and dealing with it, mention of the death of a child, religious stuff in here, okay, okay. (also available on my AO3: ashes_to_ash)

------- Part One

Jayce wasn’t sure what could be worse.

The before or the after.

In the before, everything was simple, easy, and drawn out for him. He would have graduated with his master's in Chemical Engineering and worked for Piltover Enterprises as a project manager.  His entire future was sealed with a golden stamp.

That was almost a year ago.

Before the accident. Before he killed an innocent child.

He hadn’t meant for his thesis project to go so horribly wrong.

“Tell me about the accident again, Jayce,” the calm voice on the other side of the thin wooden lattice urged him. “From the beginning.”

The distraught man choked out a laugh. “You already know everything. I’ve been here practically every day.”

“For the last two months, I’m aware.” Then, a soft chuckle before the voice said, “You take up a lot of time in my booth, though I’m not complaining. Not many people come to confession in this city.”

“Are you allowed even to tell me that?”

“What we talk about is between us and God. You can share whatever you wish with me,” the voice promised him.

Jayce never went to church after he moved to the States. His mother would drag him tooth and nail every Sunday to sing, pray, and find community in their small town outside Guadalajara. 

But he never craved that understanding, that sense of belonging, the hope of it all—until Henry died.

“It was supposed to save lives,” Jayce started for the hundredth time, rubbing his unshaven jaw with one hand. “Neutralize toxic waste. Clean up the planet, make things better for everyone…That’s what I told everyone, what I told myself.”

There was a beat of silence before the priest pressed for more. “You always start with this. Why?”

“You already know the reason–why do you make me retell it every time?” 

“Because you haven’t let yourself truly feel all of it, Jayce,” the voice explained. “It’s been almost three years now, and you only just started coming here months ago. You talk and talk, but it’s as if you’re reading a story sometimes. So, let’s try this again—Tell me what happened from the beginning.”

Jayce hoped the priest could feel the burning hot glare he sent through the wooden panel between them. “I’m starting to think you enjoy watching me fall apart, Father.”

There’s another soft chuckle. “If I wanted to watch people fall apart, I would have gone into politics or poetry, not priesthood.” He sighed gently, then tapped the wooden panel twice with one knuckle, his tone lilting with his thick Czech accent that the pained man had grown so accustomed to hearing daily, “Come on, Jayce. Start from the beginning. For yourself, not for me.”

He knew that Jayce knew that it was for himself. It always was. The priest didn’t need to hear this story every time. Jayce knew that.

Logically? Jayce understood grief: the stages, the emotions, the rage, the range of it all.

He’d researched it a few weeks after abandoning his thesis and master’s program, locked away in his room with thousands of calculations for how the accident could have been prevented.

On paper, grieving and moving on was easy, tangible, reachable.

In this small confession booth, with his fingers ink-stained and his heart heavy—Jayce never felt so far from everything.

“Dr. Heimerdinger was all for my project, and the advisor for the department backed him. I threw myself into the work, and I thought it would fix many things wrong in the world.” The words felt bitter on his tongue. “That’s when the cracks first appeared. The compound wasn’t stable. The reactions were violent ones when the conditions were not one hundred percent perfect. I told her. I told her we—I told her I needed more time.”

“Her is referring to?”

“Mel Medarda, the advisor for the department,” Jayce’s stomach twisted as he thought about how it all played out. “She waved off the Doctor, and I’s worries, saying that science works that way—it’s always messy until it isn’t.” His throat felt as if it was about to close up as he choked out, “She called it a ‘calculated’ risk. But it wasn’t her risk to take, was it? It was mine. I was the one in the lab. I was the one who signed off on the demonstration. I was the one who—” A sob cracks under his lungs and bubbles up out of him, cutting his words off.

The voice whispered, “Keep going.”

Shaking his head, Jayce continued. “The day of the demo, I was running on fumes. Stress, guilt, fear—I felt like I was suffocating, but I kept telling myself it would be fine. We’d rehearsed it, controlled everything. What could go wrong, right?” Fingers shaking, he grips his hands into fists, balling up the material of his sweatpants. “But then the sun hit the containment unit. And the reaction—it was so fast. One second, everyone is clapping; the next, there’s this BOOM—and the air turns to poison. Everyone’s running away coughing, and that’s when I saw that boy—Henry.”

“The one with the curly hair.” The voice remembered from when Jayce told him that fact last week.

Another sob rakes through the former golden star of the chemical engineering program. “Curly hair, big blue eyes, he stood there holding his mother’s hand. I didn’t even think to tell them to back up—Now, all I hear when I try to sleep is his mother's scream as she holds her son’s body. The medics couldn’t save him. The press swarmed us.”

The priest asked as if he didn’t already know, “What did Mel do?” 

“She acted as if the entire thing was a freak accident,” Jayce scoffed as he wiped his eyes with his sweatshirt sleeve. “Like it could not have been predicted. And me? I just stood there. Frozen. Watching Henry’s mother scream while I did nothing.”

Another pause. “You feel like you failed him?”

“I didn’t just fail him, Father,” Jayce stated, his hands opening and closing as he shut his eyes. “ I killed him. My hands, my signature, my experiment, my cowardice. And you always drag me right back here, to the scene of the crime, as if reliving it is going to fix me.”

“I’m not doing this to make you relieve it, Jayce,” the priest told him with a heavy sigh leaving his mouth before he added, “I’m helping you carry it. Every time you come here, every time you tell me this story—you’re giving a little bit more to me.  And one day, you’ll stop coming because it won’t weigh you down the same way. But that only happens if you keep going.”

Jayce probably owed this priest his life, and he wouldn’t even know how to start repaying him. “I don’t even know what made me start coming here. I don’t know how to keep going.”

“You come here because part of you believes there's more to your story than this,” the priest said, then let out  a small laugh before he finished with, “And you come here because you don’t have to face it alone, Jayce.”

He didn't respond immediately, but his shoulders relaxed a fraction.

Jayce could feel his eyes begin to pulse with heat, but he blinked the tears away as a tidal wave of vulnerability washed over his heart. “Sometimes I feel like you know me better than I know myself, Father. And I hate it,” He admitted, more to himself than the man listening. 

He’s never even laid eyes on the person behind the wooden lattice. He’s only ever heard his voice through his most challenging moments in the last eight weeks. The confessional booth feels like a second home to Jayce now, though he’s still not sure if that’s comforting or damning. 

“That’s not uncommon. People tend to reveal more in moments of vulnerability than they realize. But knowing you... that’s not my job. My job is to listen.” The priest said it so quietly that Jayce wasn’t sure if he believed him. Leaning forward on the small seat, his palms sweating as his fingers trembled, Jayce said slowly, “But that’s the thing. You do know me. You’ve heard every awful detail of what I’ve done, what I think. And you just sit there, calm and understanding, like some perfect saint who’s never screwed up a day in his life. It’s not fair.”

As if considering his words carefully, the man of God spoke after a few minutes, “Much of life is not fair, Jayce. There’s beauty in knowing nothing is perfect–including me. ”

“Then tell me something real .” “I have never told you anything untrue.” Jayce groaned in annoyance. There was nothing he hated more than a perfect circle. The priest always had a way of bringing him back to the start of everything.

“I just hate feeling like you’re untouchable,” he confessed, running a hand through his messy hair. “You’re truly like God. I’ve never seen or touched you–yet you’re always here. Talking to me, guiding me. It’s infuriating.”

So softly, as if more to himself than to Jayce, the priest professed, “ Untouchable . That’s the last thing I’d call myself.”

“Then prove it. You’ve heard my story a dozen times now. Give me something real about you. Just one thing. Anything .” He was practically begging, one hand flush against the thin panel between them. If he squinted in the dim light of the confession booth, he could make out a figure on the other side. 

Jayce would do anything to feel less like something that was created to hold grief. He always knew his heart was too heavy to carry alone. He never realized it would never get better–he always thought it would get better. That was the promise regarding grief–that it would get better. But it never did. And if this was how it felt because he killed one child he didn’t even know, how was he supposed to handle losing anyone else in his life?

“You think it’s easy, listening to people’s worst moments? Feeling their pain, their anger, their guilt, and not being able to take it away? I chose this, Jayce, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t weigh on me,” The priest shifted, pushing his weight against the back panel of the booth as he sighed heavily.

“That’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking for something real. Not ‘ I carry people’s burdens ’—everyone knows that’s part of the job. I’m talking about you . The person , not the Father. Do you ever let yourself be vulnerable? Or are you just sitting there, soaking up everyone else’s messes while pretending you’ve got none of your own?” He regretted the words before they even left his lips. Jayce was always the culprit for making a mess of the before and the after.

He was about to lose the one person who had to listen to him cry and mourn about the same thing, the same accident, for weeks without complaint. The voice Jayce would crave at the darkest hours of every night finally broke the heated silence, “My name is Viktor.”

------- Part Two

The sound of the door closing behind Viktor echoed softly in his quiet apartment. He set his dark wooden crutch against the wall and leaned his weight on the worn table beside the door. His breath came shallow as he eased the brace from his right leg, the stiff leather straps creaking as they loosened. His hips ached with the familiar throb of a day spent sitting too long, standing too much, and listening too intently.

With slow, practiced movements, he shrugged out of his priest's cassock, draping the black fabric over the back of a chair. The starkness of his pale undershirt against his skin made him feel vulnerable, though no one was there to see. He rubbed his hands over his face, pausing to press his palms into his eyes as if he could block out the intrusive thoughts.

Thoughts of him.

Jayce.

The name alone sent a shiver through Viktor’s chest, like the first note of a hymn he couldn’t resist singing. He hated it, this weakness. This hunger . It was preposterous, of course. Entirely unbecoming of a man who had taken vows of service, of restraint, of devotion to something higher than himself. 

Yet there it was–there he was–gnawing at the edges of his carefully constructed life.

He moved to the small kitchen, flipping on the light and squinting as it illuminated the worn linoleum floor. The apartment was modest but comfortable, provided by the church. He had been content here for years—almost a decade by now. The quietness of his evenings the simplicity of his routines, had once felt like blessings. Now, they felt hollow.

He poured himself a glass of gin, gripping the counter tightly as a fresh wave of guilt rolled over him. He could still see Jayce’s broad shoulders framed in the dim light of the confessional booth, the flush on his tanned cheeks as he spoke with such raw, anguished honesty. Viktor had spent years counseling others, listening without judgment, but with Jayce, it was different.

Drinking was not something Viktor typically did; he preferred to be sober most evenings–it kept the sinful thoughts at bay. When he drank, they’d come to him twicefold, making him doubt everything that’s led him to this life of quiet celibacy. He wasn’t always this reserved person; he hadn’t always dreamed of closing himself off from the rest of the world and stepping up to the high table to sit alongside God and all his disciples.

The shame of his thoughts burned hotter as he recalled how many times he had lingered near the stained-glass windows of the cathedral after Jayce’s confessions. He would stand in the shadows, hidden behind the heavy curtains, and watch as the slightly younger man made his way out to his car.

Jayce always moved with the weight of someone carrying an invisible burden, his shoulders tense, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Viktor’s eyes would trace the lines of his figure—the way his suit jacket stretched across his frame, the unruly strands of his dark hair catching the faint glow of the streetlights.

And every time, Viktor would curse himself for looking.

He sank heavily into the worn armchair by the window, stretching his aching leg before him as he took another drink from his glass. The golden accents on his crutch glinted faintly in the low light, a reminder of the concessions he had made to age and injury. 

He should have been used to this, the dull throb of pain that was now as much a part of him as his breath. But tonight, it felt sharper, more insistent, as if his body were rebelling against the tension coiling in his chest.

He wanted Jayce. Not just in the fleeting, physical way that would have been bad enough. 

No, Viktor’s hunger was deeper, darker, more damning. He wanted to take Jayce’s grief, his guilt, and swallow it whole. He wanted to hold him, to cradle his head against his chest, to promise him that the world wouldn’t always be this cruel.

And more than anything, he wanted Jayce to need him.

It was absurd. Blasphemous. Viktor was a priest—a man who had devoted his life to service, to faith, to God. He had no right to want anything for himself, let alone someone as broken and beautiful as Jayce.

But he couldn’t stop.

Jayce’s voice echoed in his mind, low and rough, filled with a desperation that Viktor had never encountered before. Jayce spoke like a man who had already condemned himself, who believed he was beyond saving. And yet, he always came back to Viktor, day after day, looking for something—comfort, absolution, maybe even hope .

And Viktor? Viktor gave him what he could. But it was never enough.

He leaned his head back against the chair, closing his eyes. His hands trembled as he clasped them together, a gesture of prayer more out of habit than intent. He whispered, his voice cracking with the weight of his shame.

“God, forgive me.”

But as the words left his lips, he wasn’t sure if he meant them. Because some small, selfish part of him didn’t want forgiveness.

It wanted Jayce.

Viktor’s eyes opened slowly, drawn to the faint glow of the church’s steeple visible through his window. He sat there for a long time, staring into the night, trying to convince himself that he could let this go. He could be the priest Jayce needed, not the man Viktor wanted to be.

But deep down, he knew the truth.

He hadn’t felt alive like this in years—not since his college days, not since before the ache in his leg became permanent, not since the walls of his faith became a refuge instead of a choice.

And Jayce? Jayce was a fire he couldn’t seem to extinguish.

Viktor closed his eyes again, the ghost of Jayce’s voice lingering across his heart.

He wanted to save him.

But more than that, he wanted to keep him.

And that was a sin Viktor wasn’t sure he had the strength to resist.

------- Part Three

Jayce stepped through the heavy oak doors of the church, his footsteps echoing faintly in the stillness. The air was cool and faintly scented with beeswax and incense, and the sunlight filtering through the stained glass cast fractured rainbows onto the stone floor. He paused just inside, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets as if he could anchor himself to something solid.

He wasn’t here to confess, not really. He was here for him . For the man who had become an unwelcome fixture in his mind, a name he couldn’t stop repeating to himself in quiet, desperate moments.

Viktor.

It was all Jayce could think about these last few days, tracing the letters into the margins of his bible, whispering the name into the stillness of his apartment, feeling its weight settle deep in his chest. He hadn’t felt this fire to figure someone out in years. It burned through him like hunger, like need, like something he couldn’t control even if he wanted to.

For the first time since going to that cathedral, that church, that goddamn booth–Jayce felt something other than grief raging through his chest.

And it terrified him.

For months, Viktor had been a voice in the dark, steady and soothing, a presence that seemed too solid for the booth that confined him. Jayce had built him in his mind, piece by piece—a broad-shouldered, calm-faced figure with kind eyes and hands that could hold the weight of a thousand sins.

But it wasn’t enough. It never was.

Jayce needed more than the phantom he’d created. He needed to see Viktor, to put a face to the man who had listened to him unravel again and again. He needed to know who Viktor was, not just as a priest but as a person .

He wasn’t sure what he was looking for—closure, maybe, or clarity. But deep down, in the part of himself he refused to acknowledge, he knew the truth. He wasn’t here for absolution or answers.

He was here because he’d fallen for a man he could never have.

Jayce made his way down the aisle, his hands brushing over the backs of the pews as he walked. His legs felt heavy, his heart thudding unevenly in his chest. Instead of heading to the confessional, he slid into a pew near the front, his knees brushing the worn wooden bench as he sat.

The church was empty, save for a single figure at the altar.

Jayce’s breath caught as he took him in for the first time.

He wasn’t what Jayce had imagined. Viktor was more petite and leaner; his frame was a mixture of fragility and quiet strength. His dark hair was streaked with silver at the temples, and he moved with deliberate slowness, his hand resting lightly on the wooden crutch propped against the altar. His cassock hung loosely on him, and even from this distance, Jayce could see the lines of pain etched into his face—the faint crease between his brows, the tightness in his jaw.

And yet, there was something magnetic about him.

Jayce’s chest tightened as he watched Viktor light a candle, the flickering glow illuminating his features. He wasn’t handsome in the traditional sense, but there was a calm dignity and a weight to his presence that made it impossible to look away.

This is him, Jayce thought. This is the man who’s been holding my soul together for months. The man I’ve spilled everything to. The man I can’t stop thinking about.

His heart sputtered painfully in his chest, and he clenched his fists against the polished wood of the pew, trying to steady himself.

He hadn’t expected this. He hadn’t expected Viktor to feel so... real .

Jayce’s pulse roared in his ears as he fought to reconcile the Viktor in his mind with the one standing in front of him. He was flesh and blood, imperfect and human, yet the pull Jayce felt toward him was overwhelming.

It wasn’t fair.

You don’t even know him, Jayce told himself. Not really. You know his voice, his words, the way he listens. But you don’t know him.

But Jayce couldn’t shake the truth that had settled in his chest like a sinking ship.

He’d fallen for Viktor.

Not the idea of him, not the comfort he provided, but him . The man who bore the weight of others’ sins while quietly carrying his own. The man who had become an anchor in Jayce’s storm, steady and unyielding.

It was wrong. He knew that. Viktor was untouchable, not because of his title, but because of who he was—because of the walls he’d built, the life he’d chosen.

But knowing it was wrong didn’t make it any easier to look away.

Jayce’s hands shook as he shifted in the pew, the faint creak of wood breaking the silence. Viktor’s head turned slightly at the sound, his gaze sweeping the room until it landed on Jayce.

Their eyes met, and Jayce felt his heart thumping erratically, his breath catching in his throat.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, slowly, Viktor began to make his way toward him, his crutch tapping softly against the stone floor.

Jayce’s pulse quickened with every step, his chest tightening as Viktor stopped a few feet away, his gaze steady but searching.

Softly, hesitantly, Viktor spoke, “You’re not in the confessional today.”

“I needed to see you.” 

And just like that, the walls Jayce had spent so long building began to crack. Because in Viktor’s eyes, he didn’t see judgment or distance. He saw something much more gentle, something that made his heart ache.

He’s real, Jayce thought again, and it terrified him.

Viktor adjusted his crutch and studied Jayce for a moment, his expression carefully neutral, though his golden-brown eyes flickered with something Jayce couldn’t quite place. Curiosity, maybe. Or wariness. “You needed to see me?” The question echoed throughout the empty cathedral.

Shrugging, doing his best to remain nonchalant, Jayce said, “Yeah. I figured after months of baring my soul to a faceless voice, it was time to... you know, put a face to the name.”

Viktor lets a small smile creep across his mouth. “And? Was it worth the effort?”

“Jury’s still out. You’re not exactly what I pictured.” Jayce’s cheeks burn as he tries to contain his own.

An eyebrow raises in amusement from the priest. “No? Should I be flattered or concerned?”

Letting his body lean back against the pew, the man sighed playfully before answering, “Flattered, I guess. You’re not what I expected, but that’s not a bad thing.”

“ And what did you expect?”

“I don’t know. Someone... taller. Broader. Like you could bench-press the weight of everyone’s sins or something.” The admission was a stupid one, but it was honest. 

A laugh escaped Viktor’s lips and then another, making Jayce grin wider as the priest told him, “I assure you, my strength lies elsewhere. Bench-pressing is not among my talents.”

“Shame. Would’ve been a great party trick.”

“I’ll keep it in mind for my next performance,” Viktor assured him dryly as he sat on the pew a few feet away.

The easy banter caught Jayce off guard. Viktor’s voice, so often calm and measured in the confessional, now had an edge of humor to it, a warmth that made him feel almost... normal. Like they weren’t priest and penitent, but two men having a conversation.

It was dangerous, Jayce realized, how easy it was to talk to him like this.

Shifting slightly, his gaze flicking to Viktor’s crutch before he could stop himself as he said, “So... you’ve got a name, and now I’ve got a face. Guess all that’s left is figuring out the rest of the puzzle.”

Another eyebrow raised in his direction. “I wasn’t aware I was a puzzle to be solved.”

“Oh, come on. You’re a guy who spends his days listening to people’s darkest secrets and still manages to stay calm and collected. There’s gotta be more to you than that.”

“Perhaps. But I’m not sure it’s the kind of ‘more’ you’d find interesting.”

Jayce tilted his head at the priest, his voice lowering slightly as he gave him a look. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

The shift in tone made Viktor pause. He glanced down at Jayce, his brow furrowing slightly as if trying to read the unspoken weight behind the words. Jayce felt exposed under that gaze, like Viktor could see every flaw in his carefully constructed armor.

“Why are you really here, Jayce? It’s not just to put a face to my name, is it?” The priest was…nervous. Jayce wasn’t the best at reading everyone, but he could read this. He saw the way Viktor’s fingers dug into his cane, the slight pinking of his pale cheekbones, the glint in his eyes. This was mutual.

Clearing his throat, Jayce looked toward the altar of candles. “I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe I just... I’ve been carrying this thing for so long, and you’re the only one who hasn’t looked at me like I’m broken. Like I’m... unfixable.”

“No one is unfixable.”

A cold laugh escaped his chest before he could stop himself, “You don’t know that. You don’t know me.”

“You’re right. I don’t know you—not entirely. But I know enough to believe in you, even when you don’t believe in yourself,” Viktor’s words fell over his grief-stricken soul like a warm blanket on a snowy night.

Jayce’s lungs felt tighter at the words, at the calm conviction in Viktor’s tone. He looked away, his jaw clenching as he tried to find something, anything, to say in response. But Viktor, as always, was patient, waiting him out in silence.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jayce repeated his confession from the other day, “It’s not fair, you know. You know so much about me, and I know next to nothing about you.”

“I think you know more than you realize,” Viktor’s face twitched as he gave Jayce another wry smile.

“Not enough.” Jayce figured that Viktor could tell him every molecule about himself, and he would still want more from the priest. Always more.

“What would you like to know?”

Blinking in surprise, Jayce blurted out, “What?”

“Ask me something. Anything. I’ll answer if I can,” Viktor offered, leaning back against the pew.

There had to be some code of ethics about this, didn’t there? Jayce’s mind began to swim rapidly at everything he wanted and couldn’t ask.

The openness in Viktor’s tone caught Jayce off guard. He hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected Viktor to offer him anything beyond the walls of their usual confessions.

His mind raced, a dozen questions rising to the surface, but only one made it past his lips. “Why do you do this? Why be a priest?”

Viktor’s gaze became distant as if he’d traveled to another timeline. Jayce almost told him to forget it; it was such a personal question, after all. Then the priest responded gently, “Because once, a long time ago, someone listened to me. And it saved my life.”

The simplicity of the answer hit Jayce harder than he expected. He stared at Viktor, trying to piece together the man behind the words, the weight behind the confession.

“Do you ever wish you’d chosen different instead?” Another far too personal question.

“Sometimes. When it’s quiet and I’m alone, I think about what my life could’ve been. But then someone like you walks in, carrying the kind of pain that no one should bear alone, and I remember why I’m here. Why I made the choice I did.”

Jayce thought he saw it for the first time—the breaks throughout Viktor’s calm facade, the quiet pain he carried, the humanity he kept so carefully hidden.

It made him want to know more.

It made him want to stay.

 After a long silence, Jayce responded, his voice softer, “Guess you’re not as untouchable as I thought.”

“None of us are. Not even priests.”

For the first time in weeks, Jayce felt like the weight he was carrying wasn’t his to bear alone.

With another chuckle, Viktor added, “The collar’s just for show, Jayce. Underneath, I’m just as human as you are. Full of doubts, regrets, and questions I don’t have answers to.”

The sunlight began to pour through the stained glass windows, painting the cathedral in a kaleidoscope of shifting colors. The faint smell of incense lingered in the cool air. Jayce leaned forward, hands pressed together as if in prayer, trying to keep his breathing steady though every inch of him felt coiled tight. He turned his head to lock eyes with the priest.

Viktor sat still as a statue beside him, watching him as if waiting for another confession to slip sinfully from his lips. The golden light framed him, catching on the streaks of silver in his hair and the faint lines on his face. Jayce couldn’t tear his eyes away.

He wanted him. God, he wanted him. And not just in the dark, desperate way that kept him awake at night, turning over memories of Viktor’s voice, his patience, his kindness. Jayce wanted to know him, wanted to peel back the layers until he understood every sharp and soft edge of the man who had somehow become his reason to wake up every morning.

What felt like hours later, Viktor finally whispered, “It’s almost closing time.”

“Should I take that as my cue to leave?” Jayce didn’t let himself look away.

“Not necessarily.”

Jayce’s heart stuttered at the response. He raised an eyebrow, trying to mask the way his pulse quickened with sarcasm. “Not necessarily? That’s cryptic, even for you,” He rolled his eyes before meeting Viktor’s once more. He wasn’t sure what was about to happen, but he felt as if he were being challenged, and it excited him.

Pausing, pursing his lips slightly, Viktor said, “I was thinking... you’ve been coming here for months now, spilling your soul in the confessional. Perhaps it’s time for a different kind of conversation.”

Jayce couldn’t help that both his eyebrows shot up his forehead in question, “A different kind? What does that mean?”

The priest shrugged as if it meant nothing, “It means... I live just next door. And I was going to pour myself a drink to end the day. You’re welcome to join me.”

Jayce blinked, caught entirely off guard. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, trying to process what he’d just heard.

A priest. Inviting him over. For drinks.

“ A drink? Are priests even allowed to drink?”

A low, warm laugh tickled Jayce’s eardrums as Viktor stood with a slight groan. “We’re not monks, Jayce. And even monks are allowed wine.”

The snort that left his nose made his cheeks redden as he nodded. “Fair enough. But isn’t this, like... wildly inappropriate?”

Father Viktor’s smile faltered slightly as if remembering the totality of his position in the church. “If you’re uncomfortable, you’re under no obligation to accept. I only thought... it might help.”

Help. The word lingered in the air, heavier than it should have been. Jayce stared at Viktor, at the quiet vulnerability in his expression, and felt something in him give way.

He should have said no. Of course, he should have said no. It wasn’t ethical, wasn’t appropriate, wasn’t safe . But Jayce had never been good at denying himself things he wanted, and he wanted Viktor.

He wanted more, more, more of him, in any capacity he could get him in.

Grinning despite himself, despite the grief that was ebbing fatally around his world, despite the hope he needed from Viktor’s voice, he said, “Well, if priests are allowed to drink, who am I to say no?”

Viktor’s smile returned, small and faintly relieved, and Jayce felt its warmth settle somewhere deep in his chest.  “Good. Then follow me.”

Jayce stood, his heart pounding as Viktor began making his way to the side door of the cathedral. The sunlight glittered on the polished stone floors, casting long shadows as Jayce followed him.

With every step, Jayce felt the weight of what he was walking into.

And yet, he didn’t stop himself.

------- Part Four

The first thing Jayce noticed when he stepped into Viktor’s apartment was how quiet it was. Not the hollow, sterile quiet of a simply empty place, but the kind of quiet that felt lived-in. It was cozy, warm even, in a way he hadn’t expected. The soft scent of old books and faint incense lingered in the air, mingling with the faint creak of the floorboards beneath their feet.

It was nothing like Jayce’s sleek, modern studio in the city. This place had history. 

The walls were lined with shelves overflowing with books, their spines worn and faded, interspersed with small, unassuming decorations—a cross here, a brass clock there, and a single framed photograph on the far table that he couldn’t quite make out.

The apartment reflected the man who lived in it: unpretentious, thoughtful, and far more inviting than Jayce had prepared himself for.

Viktor leaned his crutch against the wall near a small kitchen alcove, his movements slow and practiced as he reached for two tumblers from the cabinet. Jayce watched him without meaning to, his gaze trailing over the measured, careful way Viktor moved, his limp barely noticeable as he crossed the room.

How is this my life right now? Sitting here, about to drink with a priest— He swallowed hard, correcting himself —with Viktor. Not Father Viktor. Just Viktor.

It was strange to think of him like that. Bizarre, and yet... riveting.

Viktor set the glasses on the counter and uncapped a bottle of gin, the clear liquid glinting faintly in the light as he poured. He didn’t skimp, filling each glass nearly halfway before sliding one across the counter to Jayce.

“Is gin okay? It’s all I have, I’m afraid.” The priest looked almost as nervous as Jayce felt.

Jayce let himself grin as he picked his glass up. “Gin’s fine. Hefty pour, though. You trying to get me drunk, Father?”

The man raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into another small, amused smile as he set the bottle down. “First, it’s Viktor. And second, if that’s all it takes, you may want to consider eating more regularly.”

Jayce snorted, but the truth hit a little too close to home. He’d come here on an empty stomach, his nerves too shot to eat before heading to the church. Now, the gin was already warming his chest, the taste sharp and almost medicinal as he swallowed his first  sip.

He leaned against the counter, trying to keep his focus on his drink instead of Viktor, but it was impossible not to notice the way the man moved, even as he shrugged off his priest’s cassock. The black fabric fell away to reveal a simple white button-down, slightly wrinkled; the sleeves rolled up just enough to expose his forearms.

Jayce almost choked on his second sip.

Jesus Christ. He grimaced internally at the irony. How does someone look like that in something so plain?

The man was all lean lines and quiet strength, the crisp white of his shirt making his pale skin and dark hair stand out in a way that was almost distracting. No, scratch that—it was definitely distracting.

 “You, uh... clean up well.”

Viktor glanced at him amusedly as he sat at the small table near the window. “It’s just a shirt, Jayce.”

“Not on you, it’s not,” He muttered into his glass as he took another drink.

Viktor raised a thick eyebrow but didn’t comment, though the faint curve of his lips suggested he’d heard. Jayce downed another sip of gin, the warmth in his chest spreading now to his limbs, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t just the alcohol.

After a moment, leaning back slightly in his chair, Viktor smirked. “You’re staring.”

Snapping his head up, his cheeks flushing, Jayce moved his eyes from the priest’s slender neck and shoulders to his golden gaze. “I am not .”

“You are. Should I be concerned?” The man laughed and took a long drink before setting his glass down and running his pointer finger along the rim as he looked at Jayce.

“Only if you don’t like the attention.” He really shouldn’t be drinking with the man he’d been dreaming about on loop the last few nights–or every night since they’d met.

That gave Viktor pause. For a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes—surprise, maybe, or curiosity. Jayce couldn’t quite tell, but whatever it was, his pulse quickened.

“I’m not sure what to make of you, Jayce. You’re brooding in a pew one moment, and the next, you’re... this.”

Jayce leaned on the table, his elbows biting into the wood as he put his head in one hand. “This? What’s ‘this’ ?"

Tilting his head as if Jayce was playing with him, Viktor said steadily, “Bold. Confident. Flirting , even.”

He let out a warm puff of air. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But he did. Of course, he did. The gin was making him reckless, and Viktor’s quiet, understated charm was making it impossible to keep his head on straight.

Jayce swirled the liquid in his glass, his gaze drifting back to Viktor, their eyes locking incredibly quickly. The man looked impossibly at ease, one hand resting lightly on the table, his crutch within reach but forgotten for the moment.

“I meant what I said, you know. About wanting to figure you out,” He confessed in a murmur across the small table.

Expression unreadable, Viktor asked, “And have you made any progress?” He knocked back the rest of his gin and said, “I think I’m getting there." The priest kept his eyes level as he drained the rest of his glass before grabbing the bottle from between them and pouring them each another glass. Jayce didn’t hesitate to take another long drink, needing the liquid courage to keep sitting here and talking to Viktor as if he didn’t want to fuck into him like it was the end of the world and the beginning of everything.

“You know, for a priest, you’re surprisingly good at keeping secrets. I can’t decide if it’s infuriating or impressive,” He taunted, lowering his glass.

Viktor snickered lightly as he drank. “It is part of the job description, Jayce. I thought you’d appreciate that by now.”

“Oh, I do. But it also makes me wonder... what are you hiding?”

Viktor’s lips twitched into the faintest smile, but his gaze didn’t waver. “I think you already know more than you realize.”

The gin had worked its way through Jayce’s veins, dulling the edges of his nerves but sharpening everything else. The quiet hum of the apartment, the soft clink of Viktor’s glass against the table, the faint scent of cedar and something herbal that clung to Viktor—it all felt too vivid, too close.

Jayce leaned back in his chair, swirling the last sip of gin in his glass as Viktor sat across from him, perfectly composed as always. Except he wasn’t, not entirely. 

Jayce had caught the way Viktor’s gaze lingered for a beat too long, the way his fingers brushed over the rim of his glass as if trying to keep them occupied.

There was tension between them now, electric and unspoken, and Jayce wasn’t sure if it was the gin or something more, more, more that made him bold enough to speak. “Not enough. Not nearly enough.”

The words hung in the air, and for the first time, Viktor didn’t have a quick response. His fingers tightened around the edge of the table, his eyes locked to Jayce’s, and Jayce felt his ribs slink around his lungs like a vice.

The moment stretched, the silence heavy with everything neither of them was saying. Jayce stood abruptly, the chair scraping softly against the floor as he moved closer, unable to stop himself.

Barely a whisper, he held his hand out to the man before him, “Viktor.”

The sound of his name shattered something in Viktor. He stood slowly, leaning his palm into Jayce’s for balance, his gaze steady but masked. Jayce stopped moving, letting his fingers curl around Viktor’s, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it might bruise his chest cavity.

He wasn’t sure who moved first—maybe it was him, maybe it was Viktor—but suddenly, the space between them vanished.

Viktor’s lips were softer than Jayce expected, but his grip was firm, one hand curling around Jayce’s jaw as the kiss deepened. Jayce’s breath hitched, the taste of gin and something distinctly Viktor overwhelming him as he pressed closer, his hands fisting in the crisp white of Viktor’s shirt against his lower back.

This is insane. This is wrong. He told himself as he backed toward the couch, gently pulling Viktor with him.

But it didn’t feel wrong. Not with the way Viktor’s hand slid up his back, his touch warm and grounding. Not with the way Viktor pulled him closer as if he couldn’t bear the thought of letting go.

Jayce tilted his head, deepening the kiss, his fingers moving to the buttons of Viktor’s shirt without thinking. The fabric slipped under his hands, revealing skin warm to the touch, and Jayce swallowed hard, his breath coming faster as Viktor’s hand traced the line of his spine.

The back of his knees hit the couch cushion, and his lips ghosted across Viktor’s as he spoke, “I’ve never... I’ve never wanted someone like this .”

Viktor’s voice was low, barely more than a growl, “You’re not the only one.” Then he shoved Jayce gently but firmly onto the couch behind him as he climbed on top of him, straddling him slowly to avoid jostling the leg with the brace too much.

The confession sent a shiver down Jayce’s spine, and whatever restraint he’d been clinging to dissolved completely. He surged forward, capturing Viktor’s lips again, their movements increasingly desperate, frantic, like they were trying to burn away the weight of months of unspoken tension.

Jayce’s hands roamed over Viktor’s chest, his shoulders, the sharp lines of his collarbone, every inch of him solid and real in a way that made Jayce’s head spin. 

He’s not untouchable.

Jayce had spent the last few days tracing the letters of Viktor’s name into the roof of his mouth like fucking hymns–but now he had him, in his arms, against his chest, against his heart.

The thought sent a rush of heat through him, and he pressed his forehead against Viktor’s, their breaths mingling as his fingers slid lower, exploring the contours of a body he’d only ever imagined. Viktor’s grip tightened on his waist, grounding him, anchoring him in the moment.

The rest was a blur—heat and skin and the quiet sound of Viktor’s name falling from Jayce’s lips, over and over like a prayer. Viktor, Viktor, Viktor, Viktor, Viktor, Viktor, Vitkor, Vikt-

------ Part Five: Bonus Content

Jayce’s mouth was hot against his as they fumbled their way across the threshold of the two-bedroom apartment they’d just moved into a week ago. Pulling him closer, Viktor felt him kick the front door shut, and a lock clicked immediately after. This was heaven, the former priest decided as Jayce’s fingers slid to undo the buttons on the front of his shirt. He didn’t save Jayce Talis; in fact—Jayce saved him.

Viktor's breath hitched as Jayce's calloused hands slipped beneath his shirt, caressing the chilled skin. He arched into the touch, his own fingers tangling in Jayce's thick hair. The taste of whiskey lingered on Jayce's lips, a reminder of their celebratory drinks earlier that evening.

"Bedroom," Jayce murmured against Viktor's neck, nipping gently at the sensitive skin. " Now ."

They stumbled down the hallway, leaving his cane and a trail of discarded clothing in their wake. Viktor's bare bottom hit the black duvet, and he gazed up at Jayce, drinking in the sight of his lover silhouetted in the dim street lights filtering through the curtains.

As Jayce sunk onto the floor between Viktor’s knees, Viktor's mind flashed to the life he'd left behind—the cold stone walls of the church, the small comfortable apartment that ended up feeling more like a prison the longer he got to know Jayce. Carding his long fingers through Jayce’s hair, it had grown a few inches since their first time sleeping together around two months ago, the man below him hummed happily as he looked up at Viktor through his long dark lashes.

"You're beautiful," Viktor whispered, his voice thick with emotion. Jayce's eyes softened at the words, and he leaned forward to press a warm kiss to Viktor’s inner right thigh. A shiver traveled across his body as heat pooled in his stomach at the sight of the man before him.

"So are you," Jayce replied, his hands tracing gentle patterns on Viktor's calves, minding the brace he still wore on his right leg. "I still can't believe you're here with me."

Viktor's heart swelled with a mixture of love and lingering guilt. He knew he'd made the right choice, but years of indoctrination were hard to shake. "I'm exactly where I'm meant to be," he said, as much to reassure himself as Jayce.

“So am I,” And with that, Jayce dove forward to take Viktor’s half hard length into his slick hot mouth.

Viktor gasped, his head falling back as pleasure coursed through him. Jayce's tongue swirled expertly, drawing out soft moans that echoed in the quiet room. Viktor's fingers tightened in Jayce's hair, guiding him gently.

" Jayce ," he breathed, "Oh, God..."

The irony of invoking a deity he'd renounced wasn't lost on him, but coherent thought was quickly slipping away. Jayce hummed around him, the vibrations sending jolts of ecstasy up Viktor's spine.

Not to mention, having Jayce on his knees as if he were praying as he sucked Viktor off. He’d dreamed of moments like this one for weeks before it finally happened that night he’d asked Jayce to his apartment for drinks.

Viktor's mind swam with memories of that first night, the way Jayce's lips had felt against his own, tentative at first, then hungry and desperate. How they'd fumbled with buttons and zippers, laughing nervously between heated kisses. The guilt and fear that had plagued him for so long melted away in Jayce's arms, replaced by a burning desire he'd never known before.

Now, as Jayce worked him with practiced skill, Viktor marveled at how far they'd come. His hips bucked involuntarily, and Jayce steadied him with strong hands on his thighs. The sight of Jayce's head bobbing between his legs, combined with the exquisite sensations coursing through him, threatened to push Viktor over the edge far too soon.

"Wait," he gasped, firmly tugging Jayce's hair. "I want... I want you to fuck me.” Jayce released Viktor’s cock with a wet pop from his mouth, his chin and lips covered in pre cum and his own saliva. His dark golden pupils blown wide and his cheeks flushed.

Jayce smiled, a predatory glint in his eyes as he slowly rose to his feet. "As you wish," he purred, leaning in to capture Viktor's lips in a searing kiss. Viktor could taste himself on Jayce's tongue, and it sent a thrill through him.

With gentle hands, Jayce eased Viktor further onto the bed, positioning him against the pillows. Viktor's breath caught as Jayce crawled over him, their bodies aligning perfectly. The weight of Jayce above him felt like an anchor, grounding him in this moment of bliss.

"Are you sure you want to tonight?" Jayce asked, his voice husky with desire but tinged with concern. Always so considerate, even in the throes of passion.

Viktor nodded, reaching up to cup Jayce's face. "I've never wanted anything more" he murmured as he tugged him down for another kiss.

One of Jayce’s huge right hands traveled to Viktor’s smaller waist and hips easily as he gripped him obsessively before moving to grab the bottle of lube left on the bedside table.

Their lips continued to move against one another for a moment until Viktor began getting impatient and he tugged on the hairs at the base of Jayce’s neck, eliciting a whoreish moan from the much larger man. It sent a round of pre cum leaking down the tip of Viktor’s cock as he pushed his hips up to Jayce’s, their members sliding together as they ground against one another.

Jayce groaned at the contact, his hips stuttering against Viktor's. With practiced ease, he flipped open the cap of the lube bottle and coated his fingers generously. Viktor spread his legs wider, inviting Jayce's touch.

The first finger slipped in easily, Jayce's movements slow and deliberate. Viktor's breath hitched as Jayce added a second finger, stretching him carefully. The burn of the stretch mingled with pleasure as Jayce curled his fingers, searching for that spot that would make Viktor see stars.

" Jayce ," Viktor moaned, his back arching off the bed as Jayce found his prostate. "Please, I need you inside of me."

“I wanted to fuck that confession out of you, but we never got that far,” Jayce murmured, pressing kisses along Viktor's jawline down to his collarbone as he worked a third finger in. Jayce traced his favorite word with his tongue across the left side of Viktor’s chest a few times as he scissored his fingers to open Viktor up even further. Mine, mine, mine.

Viktor's hands raked across Jayce’s tanned broad shoulders, absolutely digging into the skin, leaving angry red lines.

A hiss left Jayce’s mouth as he moved to tongue over Viktor’s left nipple.

Viktor's mind reeled at Jayce's words, memories of suppressing his desires in the confessional booth as Jayce would pour his grieving heart out. He'd fantasized about Jayce taking him right there, sacrilege be damned. Now, with Jayce's fingers working him open, those fantasies paled in comparison to reality.

"Maybe we can roleplay that sometime," Viktor gasped, surprising himself with his boldness. Jayce's eyes widened, then darkened as he met Viktor’s gaze in the dim light.

" Fuck , V," Jayce growled, withdrawing his fingers. "You can't say things like that and expect me to last."

Viktor whimpered at the loss, but soon felt the blunt head of Jayce's lubed up cock pressing against his entrance.

Jayce paused before he slowly pushed forward until only the pulsing head of his huge cock was locked into Viktor’s heat. And he stayed like that, his large hands coming down to rest on Viktor’s hips before traveling up and playing with Viktor’s hard nipples again.

Viktor gasped, his body trembling with anticipation as Jayce teased him mercilessly. The fullness of just Jayce's tip inside him was already overwhelming, stretching him in the most delicious way. He squirmed, trying to push down and take more of Jayce's length, but Jayce's strong hands held him firmly in place.

" Patience is a virtue, sweetheart," Jayce murmured, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. His fingers continued to work Viktor's nipples as he pinched them sharply, sending jolts of pleasure straight to his groin.

Viktor sent him a stern look, his mouth falling open as he panted in wanting. “If you don’t start fucking me like the entire world is ending tonight I won’t let you look at me naked for a week, Jayce.” Leaning down to bite Viktor’s ear, Jayce chuckled darkly. “As you wish, Father Viktor.”

With those words, Jayce snapped his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt inside Viktor in one swift motion. Viktor cried out, his back arching off the bed as he was suddenly filled completely. The stretch burned deliciously, bordering on pain but quickly melting into intense pleasure as Jayce began to move.

Jayce set a punishing pace, his powerful thrusts driving Viktor into the mattress.

Viktor's heaven and earth narrowed to the exquisite sensation of Jayce moving inside him, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body.

"Oh God , Fuck," Viktor moaned, his fingers digging into Jayce's back. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

Jayce's breath was hot against Viktor's neck as he pounded into him relentlessly. "Never," he growled, nipping at Viktor's earlobe. "You're mine now, V. All mine."

The possessiveness in Jayce's voice sent a thrill through Viktor. He'd belonged to the church for so long, but this— this was true devotion.

This was worship in its purest form.

Jayce shifted his angle slightly, and suddenly he was hitting Viktor's prostate with a drive that would put the most devout follower to shame.

Viktor cried out in ecstasy, his vision blurring as waves of intense pleasure crashed over him. Each thrust sent sparks shooting through his body, building towards an explosive release.

He didn’t know sex could be this good until he met Jayce.

" Jayce, Jayce, Jayce, " he panted like a fucking psalm, his voice raw and desperate. "Fuck, I'm close... so close..."

Jayce's rhythm faltered slightly as he groaned, clearly nearing his own climax. "Come for me, sweetheart," he urged, his voice husky with desire. "Let me see you fall apart all over my cock. Let me fill you with my release.” Nodding desperately, Viktor sighed in pleasure, “I want you to fill me to the fucking brim, pretty boy.”

Jayce's eyes flashed with desire at Viktor's words, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. He reached between their bodies, wrapping his hand around Viktor's neglected cock and stroking in time with his powerful thrusts.

The dual stimulation was too much for Viktor to bear. With a strangled cry, he came entirely undone, his release spilling over Jayce's hand and onto his own stomach. His body clenched around Jayce, pulling him deeper.

" Fuck , Viktor," Jayce groaned, his movements becoming inconsistent. "You feel so good, so tight around me."

Viktor gazed up at Jayce through half-lidded eyes, drinking in the sight of his lover lost in ecstasy. "Come for me, Jayce," he whispered the command, voice hoarse. "Fill me up, make me yours."

The man above him let out a guttural moan, his hips stuttering as he spilled deep inside Viktor. The sensation of Jayce's hot release flooding him sent aftershocks of pleasure through Viktor's oversensitive body. But Jayce wasn’t finished just yet, he chased his orgasm, fucking his release into the former priest like his life depended on it. It leaked hot and heavy out of Viktor as Jayce pushed in and out of him slowly. Jayce’s head fell back as he whined at the overstimulation of his cock being milked by Viktor’s tight hole, already half hard again.

Viktor's breath hitched as Jayce continued to move inside him, the overstimulation bordering on painful yet exquisite. He could feel Jayce's release pulsing out of him with each slow thrust, coating his inner thighs. The sight of Jayce over him, head thrown back in ecstasy, was almost enough to make Viktor come again.

" Jayce ," he whispered, voice raw and trembling. "Look at me, love."

Jayce's eyes, dark with lingering desire, met Viktor's. The intensity of his gaze made Viktor's heart skip a beat. Slowly, deliberately, Jayce lowered himself until their foreheads touched, his hips still moving in lazy circles.

"You're so fucking—ugh, you’re everything to me," Jayce murmured, pressing a soft kiss to Viktor's lips. "I love you so much, V."

Viktor's mind swam under the devotion woven throughout Jayce’s tone and actions. He’d do anything the former priest asked of him without a second thought. The power of that kind of love was intense, it almost made Viktor hard again.

Viktor's heart swelled with emotion, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He wrapped his arms around Jayce, pulling him even closer. "I love you," he whispered against Jayce's lips. "More than I ever thought possible."

They stayed like that for a long moment, bodies intertwined, breaths mingling. Viktor reveled in the weight of Jayce above him, the feeling of fullness and connection.

He was sacred , he thought. He was divine.

Eventually, Jayce carefully pulled out, both of them wincing slightly at the sensitivity. He collapsed beside Viktor, immediately drawing him into his arms. Viktor nestled against Jayce's chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

"We should clean up," Viktor murmured after a while, feeling semen leaking from him and coating his backside and legs more, though he made no move to leave the warmth of Jayce's embrace. Church bells tickled against his ribs when Jayce’s laugh thundered around his eardrums like that, and he couldn’t help but smile against the man’s collarbone.

"In a minute," he murmured, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on Viktor's lower back. "I want to savor this moment a little longer."

The former priest hummed contentedly, melting further into Jayce's embrace. The mess between his thighs was sticky, but not enough to make him want to leave the cocoon of heat and affection they'd created.

"Do you regret it?" Jayce asked softly after a few moments of comfortable silence. "Leaving the church, I mean."

Viktor lifted his head, meeting Jayce's golden stare. There was a wash of vulnerability in those dark eyes, a flicker of doubt that Viktor wanted to extinguish immediately.

" Never ," he said firmly, cupping Jayce's face with one hand, his fingers pushing into the tense muscle of his jaw. "Not for a single moment. You are everything I need and more.”

Jayce's face slackened at Viktor's words, a tender smile spreading across his face. He leaned in, capturing Viktor's lips in a sweet kiss, his tongue tasting Viktor’s for a second before pulling back a hair.

"You're everything to me too, V," Jayce murmured against Viktor's lips. "I never thought I'd find someone who understands me the way you do."

Heat washed across Viktor’s body. He traced his fingers along Jayce's jawline, marveling at the man before him. "We found each other when we needed it most," he said softly. "I may have left the church, but I've found a different kind of faith in you."

Jayce's arms tightened around Viktor, pulling him impossibly closer. They lay in comfortable silence for a while, basking in the afterglow and the warmth of each other's embrace. Viktor listened to the steady rhythm of Jayce’s heartbeat and lull of his breathing.

“Don’t ever leave me.” “I will never leave you.” It was the easiest vow Viktor ever made.

[cynical-canidae]

Okay, sorry (I'm not at all), but someone was appreciating the outfits of Viktor's commune on Twitter, and it reminded me I just have a whole lot of thoughts.

But I just love love love love them because essentially?? Looks aside (though they are stunningly gorgeous), these outfits���specifically being wrapped in blankets—sort of represent these individuals at their base/"pure" humanity.

But if you think about it, for most people, even in fictional settings/media, a blanket is your very first "outfit." It is your very first armor to brave this big, big world. Then and there at your birth, you are at your absolute most vulnerable. It's you BEFORE all of the wrong of the world (prejudice, disease, harm, death, etc.) has any chance to affect/shape you. From then on, they—this life, this world, this society—all will take every chance they can get to leave its fingerprints all over you. But in that moment, coddled by a blanket, you are a bare canvas of whatever your genes have ordered. Which is why I say "pure/base humanity."

And RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA if this does not perfectly encapsulate the commune's (Viktor's) mindset at this point??

I want to first preface this by saying. No. OBVIOUSLY the commune was not 10000% all good. Loss of self and autonomy and free will are Not good things. 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️ (As these things makes us ourselves. Yes, though their bodies move, this is essentially murdering these people.) This is the core principle of which original game Viktor and Jayce disagreed and ultimately separated upon/got Viktor expelled. However, one of the MAIN themes of Arcane is how we can do very horrible things with good intentions. We know that this happens to be Viktor's. Clearly not probably one of the best methods of trying to bring this about, but what I'm saying is that not a single soul can argue that everything/the aftermath was done out of malice/an "evil" plan. TL;DR: No, the commune was not perfect like some people for some reason?? were convinced (looking at all of you with the 🚫 Jayce pfps after Act 2 lol). However, no way can someone genuinely say that it meant Viktor was evil because of all of it. Ok, preface over.

(Also, don't even get me started on the tragedy of how the world made Viktor, a disabled man, believe that the solution was to change himself and not ?? making the world more accommodating/educating people. That's for another time and I'm supposed to be talking about BLANKETS djksfnosfjskm.)

ANYWAYS, like Viktor himself says in Act 2:

"The reason for our failures in the commune. The doctor was right. It's inescapable. Humanity. Our very essence. Our emotions... Rage. Compassion. Hate. Two sides of the same coin. Inextricably bound."

Humanity has a ton of good to offer the world and each other. The commune was born out of Viktor's genuine empathy and desire for people to live free from all of the downsides of the human condition and the things that come with it. The commune was an attempt to separate the good side of the coin from the bad side. Which is why I say that their outfits, simply blankets wrapped around them like their "pure" selves (birth), perfectly encapsulates the commune's/Viktor's mindset at this point in time. He was convinced that he could find a way to have only the good. It also meant everyone was put to the same "level"/showed a sense of equality, which was another thing Viktor was trying to do. (I.E. Uniforms are VERY big in Piltover. Certain clothes mean STATUS. Even Salo, a former councilman, being in the same robes as everyone else is a good example of bringing everyone to the same playing field.)

Also, since I cannot help but note on it. My fellow religious trauma girlies were also very tuned into just how biblical Act 2 was in general (Jesus Viktor jokes, you will always be famous). I could make an entire essay on all of THOSE parallels, but on the topic of clothing: Adam and Eve only adorned "clothes" out of shame/self-consciousness once the biblical version of Pandora's box had been opened, releasing all of the bad (sin) into the world. This point in time of humanity before the apple is exactly akin to what Viktor was trying to achieve. (He even had a damn greenhouse omg like that's literally the Garden of Eden?? 😭😭) So while Fortiche/Riot definitely wouldn't have been able to have the members of the commune all naked without getting bumped up a couple ratings, it definitely makes sense that they would wear/appear as the next thing closest to that. Huzzah!! Blankets!! 🤌🤌

I also very much appreciate it because it makes the transition of Viktor's mindset changing very stark as well, going from "most" human (blanket) to least human (machine). I have been rationalizing these two differing points in my head kinda as:

[Commune/Act 2]

"I must save humanity from the world"

(Mentally, you have to equate bad things to the world if you believe you can have humanity without it)

VS.

[Arcane Herald/Act 3]

"I must save humanity from itself"

(Inarguable, as this is the canonical current state of new game Viktor. Also can be seen like "the world from humanity.")

Anyways, I'm crazy. 🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️ Thanks for reading.

[707heart]

trade mistakes

jayce x viktor

tags: JAYVIK SILLIES!, season 1, sexual tension?, they also make out sooo….

wc: 1,616

read on ao3!

based on prompt: “Hello dear author. I dont see enough fics about viktor and jayce just being menacing in the lab like they were in the first act in season one. I would actually pay for a fic of these two vilating lab protocols and having equipment blow up in their face lol” (from @annietheplantmom)

“Oh, maybe this wasn’t the best idea, Vik.”

Jayce bit his bottom lip. He had to increase the pressure until he tasted the distinct flavor of blood coat his tastebuds. His laugh still threatened to escape anyway due to the sight in front of him.

Viktor stood with such stoicism for someone that just blew up a beaker. Somehow the shrapnel of the glass had missed him. Jayce went almost unscathed, but there was blood pooling from his forearm. It was a minor cut, but he still winced. No amount of pain would distract from the golden view of Viktor covered in dust and debris. His usual pale skin was now smeared with charcoal-colored dust.

“Jayce.”

Viktor turned to him, and his tone made Jayce a little worried. Working so closely together usually spawned meaningless arguments, but he could hear the warning in Viktor’s voice. If you laugh at me, I will kill you, was the general message.

“Could you grab me a towel, perhaps?” Viktor asked, top lip twitching like it usually did when he was irritated. As angry as he was about the explosion, Viktor still sounded a little amused.

Jayce nodded quickly and left the room, heading down the hallway to the lush bathroom. Once he assumed he was out of hearing range, Jayce doubled over in a hearty, genuine laugh. It escaped him against his will.

“I hear you!” Viktor shouted down the hall, and Jayce had tears in his eyes when he came back. His cheeks were bright red.

“Sorry, I just had to get that out,” Jayce defended, wiping Viktor’s sunken cheek with the towel. He was looking at Viktor like he hung the stars. Viktor was so cute when he was defensive this way.

It brought Jayce pride that he was the only one that ever really saw Viktor like this. Embarrassed Viktor, irritated Viktor, sleepy Viktor, hungry Viktor. In this year that they’d been experimenting together, Jayce had seen him in almost every state. This level of intimacy with another man wasn’t something he was used to. He knew that he could crush on men, be charmed by them, and charm them. Jayce assumed it was always physical interest on his end.

When Viktor broke into a laugh of his own, Jayce’s heart started to beat quicker.

—

“You didn’t decide to tell me you were changing the equation?” Viktor’s voice boomed in their silent lab. It was the middle of the night, and they were both equally exhausted. This was usually the circumstances of their arguments.

“I didn’t think it would be a big deal,” Jayce replied, frowning and looking down at the inactive machine he held in his big hands. They had spent hours working on the prototype, but it wouldn’t work no matter what they did.

Viktor sighed, full of disappointment. Since Viktor had the power to make Jayce feel so alive, it would only make sense that he could also crush Jayce’s ego. A humbler, Viktor was. He was never afraid to tell Jayce exactly how he’d messed up.

“Obviously the equation would’ve been different if it was supposed to be different. Jayce, why wouldn’t you trust me with this?” Viktor asked, taking the prototype and setting it down on his side of the lab. It was another one of Viktor’s silent messages. I’ll fix it, don’t touch.

“You don’t understand the circumstances.”

Viktor narrowed his eyes accusatorially. “I don’t understand the circumstances,” he repeated.

“Yep. You don’t.”

“The circumstances of… what exactly?”

Jayce pursed his lips. He realized he couldn’t lie anymore, and it made him cringe.

“I was trying to impress you.”

Jayce watched Viktor struggle not to laugh. “You were…”

“Yeah, it’s stupid, I know,” Jayce snorted, embarrassed.

Viktor was smiling, a rare sight. Usually his smiles were forced, like at an event. Jayce had his practiced golden smile, but Viktor could never quite get it right. Jayce was one of the only people that could see this version of him, truly entertained and comfortable.

“Why would you want to do something like that?”

Viktor had moved in closer, and it made Jayce feel warm. He’d thought about what it would be like when one of them inevitably made a move. This type of sexual tension could only survive so long while they were forced together. It was destined to become something more, Jayce told himself.

“Well, it doesn’t matter now, because it didn’t work,” Jayce laughed, but it was airy in a way neither of them could deny. Nervous, not calculated and charismatic like the way he normally was. Another rare sight that didn’t usually leave the lab.

Viktor blinked up at him, still amused.

“I’ll fix it,” Viktor offered. “It wasn’t a bad idea. You need to ask me first, though. We are a partnership.”

He was right in front of Jayce now. If Jayce moved at all, he’d have to brush up against Viktor. It was unfamiliar to him, being trapped in a corner like a shy virgin. Jayce was far from that. Still, the blush on his face was present and unwavering.

“Okay,” Jayce mumbled. If he had the ears of a dog, they’d be pressing down against his skull, resigning control.

Viktor stared at him, pretty lashes fluttering against his cut cheeks when he blinked. They were both silent. Jayce’s mouth had fallen open at some point, and it almost felt unfair how badly he wanted to kiss him. Or for Viktor to kiss him. In his fantasies, it always went either way.

“Just who I wanted to see, boys!”

The sudden sound made Jayce almost fall backward. He scrambled away from Viktor, brushing up against him to get past him. Sure enough, Heimerdinger stood in the doorway to chastise them for Viktor’s explosion a few days prior.

—

“Vik,” Jayce called, a wide frown on his face. He looked a little like Viktor on the fateful day of their lab explosion.

He was in his forge, working and thinking. The forge was the best place for him to blow off steam because of the physical labor. It was also one of the only things Jayce didn’t do with Viktor. Therefore, he had time to think. His thoughts were mostly about Viktor anyway.

Jayce heard the distinct clicks of Viktor’s cane as he arrived in the doorway of the forge. When Viktor finally faced Jayce, he stifled a laugh.

The flames had gotten too high while he was softening the metal of the hammer. It has singed off some of his hair. It spat out ashes as well, which covered his pants and his upper body. As per usual, he’d stripped himself of his shirt before starting, so that was spared.

“Are you alright?” Viktor asked, examining his hand and then his arms. Jayce let himself be coddled. He preened under Viktor’s touch.

Jayce nodded. “Yeah, just a little too much heat.”

Viktor laughed, tilting his head down. “Yeah, that is for sure.”

There was a moment of silence when Jayce realized what he’d gotten them into. Viktor was standing close to him again while Jayce wasn’t even wearing a shirt. Something about being unclothed while Viktor was still in his intricate outfit made him feel hotter than the flames.

“Guess you should get cleaned up,” Viktor said, but Jayce noticed he couldn’t take his eyes off of his bare chest. Oh.

It wasn’t like Viktor never saw him shirtless. It was circumstantial. They often spent long nights in the lab, so they’d change into their next-day outfits in the same room. It never felt unnatural. This felt different, more intimate.

“Do you really want me to go?” Jayce flirted, suddenly remembering that he could do that. He still sounded nervous, a goofy smile on his lips.

Viktor blinked up at him. “If you don’t go now, I may do something inappropriate.”

Jayce was quickly outdone, a flush filling his cheeks again. “I wouldn’t be opposed,” he whispered, looking at him earnestly.

It was the last thing he said before Viktor grabbed one of his cheeks with his free hand, pulling Jayce down to smash their lips together. It was long awaited for both of them, and that became obvious when they kissed. It was rough, but loving. Adoring, on Jayce’s end.

Jayce wrapped a sturdy arm around Viktor, holding him up. Viktor ran a nimble set of fingers up Jayce’s back, nails lightly digging into the skin there. Jayce let his tongue dip into Viktor’s mouth, and Viktor quickly retaliated. He bit on Jayce’s bottom lip, rolling the skin with his teeth for a second.

Jayce led Viktor to a cluttered desk in the forge. With one clean swipe, he let the mess fly to the floor in favor of lifting Viktor onto it instead. He reconnected their lips, then he let Viktor kiss down his neck.

“Look at you, so pretty,” Viktor mumbled, like he didn’t even know he was doing it. The confidence made Jayce feel small, which was rare for a guy with his stature.

They were both panting, kissing on and off and exchanging small praises that they’d been waiting to share with one another.

Suddenly, Viktor pulled away, placing his hands on Jayce’s chest. There was a flicker of fear that Viktor regretted this, that he was caught up in the moment and now wanted to take it back.

“Before we go any further, I need you to take a shower. You smell like a campfire. It is too much.”

Jayce laughed at that. “We could always… get clean together.”

All it took was a tiny nod from Viktor before Jayce was carrying him (and Viktor’s cane, of course) toward the bathroom.

[sapphiresaphics]

Having spent time now with the full series I still don’t feel the pacing issues other people seemed to have with it.

I get that as the episodes are releasing and we only have 3 a week and don’t have the full picture of what they’re planning it can be really easy to feel lost and confused.

But now knowing where they were going, a lot of those supposed “rushed plot lines” people were complaining about make sense. The importance of the Black Rose stuff now makes sense because it’s Ambessa’s entire motivation for why she’s doing the things she’s doing. It makes sense to take Ekko and Jayce out of the plot briefly when they visit the hexcore cuz that forces Ambessa to side with Singe. It makes sense why the Warwick stuff was being set up because that ended up being the catalyst to propel Viktor into being the Machine Herald.

Also, it makes sense now why Piltover and Zaun played such an important role in being the stage for where THIS story was set. I get people wanted the show to be more about the inequality, but the inequality was always just the set dressing for the main characters to be in and was never the central focus of the show. Not even back in season 1.

Like back in season 1 the inequality helped explain the characters motivations, but the central core message the story was telling was how people compromised their morals with good intentions only to achieve terrible results.

Jayce built Hextech to help the undercity and he ends up using it against them. Viktor obsesses so much over fixing his disease that he compromises and takes shimmer and in the process Sky dies. Silco dreams of a free Zaun, but it results in him essentially becoming a drug lord and harming the people of Zaun more than helping them. Caitlyn breaks Vi out of prison to help her hunt down Jinx, and in the process of having Vi return into her life inadvertently causes Jinx to double down and attack the Piltover council.

Inequality was a setting and a backdrop, but the show was never focused on resolving or exploring those issues much deeper than it was.

Also, about that pacing.. have you guys gone back and rewatched Season 1? The first 2 episodes are pretty chill with the pacing, but episode 3 goes crazy. And so does episode 4 and 5 and 6… like the pacing gets wilder and wilder as the season goes on until towards the end we are jumping from Silco reeling from nearly getting killed by Sevika to having a friendly discussion with Jayce on the bridge to being captured by Jinx. It’s FAST guys. Breakneck speed.

I will also say that rewatching season 1 gives me an appreciation for a lot of the parallels they had in season 2 that I missed. Things like “Remember Me” being the theme to when Vander attacks Silco back in season 1. Or like how when AU Powder appears on the dance floor with Ekko mirrors how Jinx approached him on the bridge in Season 1 Episode 7. Or how Jayce and Viktor invented Hextech floating up on the ceiling, and the series ends with the two floating in the ethereal plane together.

I maintain that a lot of these criticisms about season 2’s pacing are not as bad as some people think they are once you take the whole series together as a whole. Without that 3 year gap or the wait between episode drops, the whole series blends together much more seamlessly.

And then there’s like… season 2 episode 7? That episode stops all the forward momentum and resets our expectations. It provides us with context for some of the stuff we had seen and helps us understand the stakes going forward. When people are complaining the series is going by too fast I just can’t agree because that episode exists and it literally stops us in our tracks before ramping up again.

I understand that some side characters outside the central 7-8 mains weren’t fully developed much and that is definitely a valid criticism of the show… however I would also remind people that season 1 had a similar problem. Grayson was a fascinating character I wish I knew more about, but outside of a small cameo in episode 5 she’s just gone out of the series forever and nobody brings her up again ever. We never learn much about Huck. We never learn what happened to Clagger and Mylo’s parents. We never learn anything about Finn and what he did. We never learn more about the robot council member or the woman who has a clock on her neck. There are a LOT of characters who just never come back at all in season 1.

I dunno guys.. the more I digest this series the more many of the criticisms feel unfounded or a real reach for something to complain about.

[the-sparkling--diamond]

if there's a prize for rotten judgement, i guess i've already won that - 7

mel medarda x jayce talis

hercules au

warnings: LOTS of talk of death. greek mythology inaccuracies (ik greek mythology really well guys!!! the movie is just very inaccurate so it's inaccurate here pls forgive me)

word count: 2,232

The wind whistled in Jayce’s ears as his pegasus soared through the air. The battle had been swift. He had fought with all his might, determined to make it back to Mel as quickly as possible. He hadn’t even confronted Ambessa before she and her undead army retreated. The sudden withdrawal of troops made him feel uneasy, but he pushed the gut feeling down. That was a problem that could wait for a later time. Right now, all he wanted to do - no - all he needed to do was be by Mel’s side and find a way to help her. She called to him like a siren song and he didn’t want to do anything but answer. The temple came into view and his heart began to race. He willed the winged steed to go faster, not wanting to spend another moment away from her.

The moment they reached the ground, Jayce leapt off the back of the winged horse and broke into a sprint. Everything would be alright. He was going to help her like he helped everyone, be the hero she once said he was. He finally took in the sight before him, stopping in his tracks. Mel was still lying on the ground, but Viktor was slouched in his seat, his forehead resting against their joined hands.

In an instant, Jayce felt as though the air had been sucked out of his lungs. “No,” he whispered. Viktor was simply comforting her, that’s all. He took a hesitant step forward, murmuring, “Viktor?”

Viktor visibly stiffened before slowly turning to face Jayce. One look. That was all it took to nearly send Jayce to his knees. “No,” he choked out, feet moving their own accord to take him to her side. That beautiful, ethereal glow she always seemed to have was gone. Her deep brown skin was now ashen and dull. He hadn’t made it in time. He didn’t save her. He failed. His knees buckled. A choked sob burst from his lips as his vision blurred with tears. He reached out, delicately tracing her face with his fingertips as if she was made of the finest porcelain. How could Mel, his Mel, be gone? Guilt, remorse, grief all clawed at his chest, threatening to suffocate him in his sorrow. Viktor was speaking but Jayce couldn’t find it in him to listen. The world around him faded away as he grappled with what had happened. He had battled many fearsome monsters and survived many fights that would have killed any normal man, but there was still one foe he could never defeat: fate.

Time could not be rewound, the thread could not be uncut. He had never felt so helpless before. There was nothing he could do. It struck him then. There was nothing he could do, yes, but there was someone… The idea was mad, he was well aware of that but it would haunt him if he didn’t at least try.

Viktor noticed the knit in Jayce’s brow. He’d known Jayce for ages. The two were practically brothers. He immediately knew what the other man was thinking. “Jayce, no,” he sighed.

“I have to-”

“There are just some things you can’t change!” Viktor hadn’t meant to snap at Jayce, but he couldn’t stand to lose anyone else. He took a calming breath, murmuring, “I’m sorry.”

“Yes,” Jayce said, undeterred by Viktor’s slight outburst, “I can.”

For ages, it was believed that the only way to reach the Underworld was by dying. However, Jayce had heard of a man who, in an effort to save his wife, found another way in. For so long, he had thought the story to be a myth, but now, as he stood in the Underworld himself, he could no longer deny it.

Chills ran down his spine as he walked with his hammer clutched tightly in hand. The unmistakable scent of death invaded his senses. A distant barking made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Every atom in his body was screaming at him to turn back, reminding him that he wasn’t supposed to be there, but he didn’t care. He had to save Mel. He reached a cliff overlooking a river. He hesitantly began to walk out onto the ledge, curious to see what lay below, but before he could see, a familiar voice sounded behind him.

“Well. You’ve come back for more?”

He raised his hammer, turning to see Ambessa. Even though it had been a short time since the battle, she looked vastly different. Her hair was loose instead of pulled back into the braids it had previously been in, her gold mask and armor were gone, and she held an unreadable expression on her face. Even her voice was different. It lacked the confidence, the strength he had become accustomed with, instead sounding hollow, nearly numb. He stood tall, pushing his shoulders back as he announced, “I’m here for Mel.”

Ambessa narrowed her eyes, “And what exactly are you planning to do, Mr. Talis?”

Jayce forced himself to stay calm under her scrutinizing gaze. He wouldn’t be intimidated, not when he had come so far. “I’m going to bring her back,” he said, “I’m going to make things right.”

“Bring her back?” The goddess scoffed. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am-”

“That isn’t how this works, Jayce,” Ambessa said, beginning to circle him. “People are born, they live, and then they die and come here.” She refused to look him in the eye, refused to let him see the pain that talking about death, Mel’s death, so dismissively caused her.

“So that’s just it then?” Disgust rose in him, rage even. The words slipped out before he could really think about them. “You’re just going to let her die? You’re an almighty goddess. The Underworld, the dead, is your domain and you’re just going to do nothing?” He knew he was playing a dangerous game scolding a powerful goddess, but he couldn’t help it. Her lack of care regarding her own daughter’s death infuriated him. How could it be possible that he was more determined to save Mel than her own mother when he’d only known her for a handful of days? “Do you know how many people would bring their loved ones back if they had the power, and you have it and you’re not going to use it? Do you even care? What kind of mother are you?”

Ambessa charged at him, nearly backing him over the edge of the cliff. “How dare you. My children meant the world to me. You have no idea the sacrifices I made to keep them safe. Everything I did was for them.” Though she wasn’t that much taller than Jayce, he felt as though she was towering over him. She leaned closer, hissing, “You have no idea what it’s like to have your child taken from you when you have spent their entire existence trying to ensure their safety and protection. I kept Mel by my side after that. I worked to strengthen myself so that none could ever harm us again. But then you came along.” She spat the word like it was a curse, her disdain for him clear. “You weakened her just as she weakened me.” She took another step towards Jayce, momentarily causing his footing to falter. “You stand here before me, casting judgment,” she snarled, “but you have no idea what it is like to have your child ripped from you and be powerless to stop it.”

She took a step back, practically sneering at him as she spoke, “Now go, before I change my mind.” How she longed to be alone with her grief, her guilt. She felt as though her heart had been carved out of her chest, leaving an aching, gaping wound behind. She had always known Mel had been soft, but she never thought her softness would lead to this. Or maybe she had known all along and was simply in denial. The children of gods often met terrible fates. She was a fool to think hers would be any exception.

It wasn’t often that a mortal was granted benevolence from a deity, especially one they had already angered so tremendously. It was even rarer for a mortal to not immediately accept the kindness they'd been given. Jayce knew this. He knew how lucky he was to be permitted to leave with his life. But he couldn't. His voice broke as he asked, “Where is she?”

Ambessa's jaw clenched as her irritation with the man grew. Her voice came out harsh as her patience continued to wear thin, “What do you care? You’ll move on soon enough.”

Jayce felt as though the breath had been knocked from his lungs. How could she say that? There was no world in which he could ever move on from Mel. He needed her like the Earth needed the sun. He withered without her. “Because I love her,” he breathed out. Love seemed too simple a word for how he felt about her. She had bewitched him from the moment he saw her. Their very souls had become intertwined. She was his everything. To be forced to live a life without her…he would rather be damned to Tartarus for eternity.

The look in Jayce’s eyes struck Ambessa’s heart. She had only seen that look once before in her immortal life, in a man much like Jayce. Strong and fierce, but kind. That was many years ago and she was a different woman then, but that look still caused her to stop in her tracks. He truly was in love with her. “She’s down there,” her voice came out softer than she expected as she gestured over the edge of the cliff.

Jayce dropped to his knees, peering into the river far below. The dark waters glowed white with the ghostly figures of the souls of those who had passed. His eyes searched the water until they finally landed on her. Mel. He turned to Ambessa once more, “I’m not going back alone. I came to take her home.”

“You can’t.”

Jayce stood, leaving his hammer on the ground as he steeled himself, “I will. Whether you like it or not.”

Ambessa laughed in disbelief. He was so sure of himself. “No one leaves the Underworld, Jayce Talis,” she scoffed, “You’ll die trying and join the rest of them.”

This didn’t faze Jayce. In fact, it only encouraged him more. “Fine,” he shrugged, “If I fail, I’m doomed to the Underworld, but if I succeed, we get to leave. Deal?”

It was a tempting deal to be sure. She’d be rid of his irritating presence for good. However, on the off chance he did succeed…she pushed the thought from her mind. He would fail and that was that. “Deal,” Ambessa agreed.

Jayce immediately dove into the river below headfirst. The water was colder than anything he'd ever felt before, chilling him to his bones. He had always considered himself a fairly adequate swimmer, but he felt like he was swimming for his life and going nowhere. Every kick took more and more strength from him, but he continued to push forward. He would either leave with Mel or not at all.

He nearly gasped when he caught a glimpse of the changes in his skin. His arm was wrinkled. Not pruney, like one might be after being in water for an extended time, but wrinkled, as though he'd suddenly aged thirty years. It was useless. He would die down there, just like Ambessa had said.

Then he saw her merely a few feet away from him. Like he’d been struck by one of Zeus’s own lightning bolts, he felt energized once more. His lungs burned from the lack of oxygen, his muscles ached and strained, but he knew it would all end once she was safe in his arms. Just a little…his hand closed around her wrist. The life immediately returned to his body, skin reverting to its youthful look, his usual strength restored. Wrapping his other arm around her waist, he frantically kicked towards the surface with his newfound energy.

As Jayce stood before her, alive, with Mel’s soul in his arms, a hundred different emotions crashed over Ambessa. Relief, disappointment, rage, joy, grief. She could go back on their deal right then and there. He was vulnerable, unguarded. His weapon was on the ground. She could easily push him back into the river and ensure that he did not escape this time.

But she didn’t.

She had worked so hard to ensure the wellbeing of her children, to the point where she would do anything to keep them safe. She had failed in her conquest of the world above: an attempt to grow her domain so that none would ever feel brave enough to harm her child. She had failed to defeat the mortal hero. She knew her actions would soon cause her to face the wrath of her divine brethren as she had failed to uphold their values. She would not fail her daughter again. Though it broke her heart to do so, she nodded at the man, murmuring, “Go.”

His gaze softened and he nodded back before taking his leave without a second glance, leaving his weapon and the shell of a defeated goddess behind him.

[blueguydraws]

I just finished Arcane season 2. While Arcane is still revolutionary, sadly i think i have some unpopular opinions.

So yes, Arcane changed our idea of what an animeted series could be, i kept pausing it to admire its art, but i think the story itself fell kinda short in season 2. Most of all they tried to shove WAY too much into 9 short episodes. This story definitely needed to be at least 3 seasons long and i dont know why couldnt have that been possible? Yeah its very expensive and takes years to make, but it is as popular as it could be, i tought it made back its cost, so why did they wrap it up so fast?

Plus because the story of so many characters had to be told in such a short time, none of them could get enough time and all of their developments happened in flashes so it all felt sudden and unnatural.

The first season was way more streamlined. It had only 3 major general lines. Viktor and Jayce creating hextech, Vi and Cate looking for Jinx, and Silco's gang preparing for war. And somethimes these story lines met each other. It was straight forward. Now in season 2 so many things wanted to happen at the same time that it was hard to follow at some points.

To be fair i should propably watch it again in one sitting to form a proper opinion on it, since i am sure i missed or forgot some details, but here we go.

Viktor first of all, i was very curious to see how will he turn into the "glorious evolution" cyborg guy. When they introduced his illness and showed how he tried to cure himself with hextech, i tought i knew how this all gonna go. Plus he was already in conflict with Jayce since he wanted to take things more slowly and safely, their first argument happened over not revealing the perfected crystal to the public. I tought because Viktor knows he is running out of time he will hurry the development more and more even if it comes with dangers and eventually ditches piltover to get free of regulations. I felt reassured in this idea when he met up with Singed, it made sense for them to team up since the doctor was already making serums that enhance people so it felt natural for the evolution guy to join him.

Except none of his sickness and struggle matters too much because he gets blown up regardless and then revived with the hexcore. Like okay? And then we barely see him except for one episode where he is Jesus now and then at the end where he turned into a god. ???

Stories where friends grow apart and even become enemies are great, it makes for great drama and tragedy. Except it has to be properly fleshed out othervise it will not feel satisfying. Except here it felt like the writers took a quick shortcut and just made both of them instant enemies with magic. Viktor didnt even felt like the same person, yeah i know that is how character development works, but it happened so suddenly it was as if he just got replaced with a diferent character.

Even his cult leader arc still could have happend if we went with a closer adaptation. Lets say he grows desperate and impatient so he leaves piltover and joins up with Singed, eventually he starts healing and fixing up people with a mix of shimmer serums and hextech augmentations. Meanwhile his condition gets worse so he has to complete himself with hextech too. Before he knows it he has loyal followers. And when push comes to shove between Zaun and Piltover, he decides that his place is with his people, so him and Jayce become enemies for a while. Maybe Viktor even already kept steeling crystals from Piltover thus making the tension between the two sides worse. And as he becomes less and less human, yet way stronger, its only natural that he compares that process to evolution.

But in the actual show it felt like the writers tought "oh shit we are running out of time and Viktor is suppose to be an entirely diferent character, quick, make him say the line" it felt kinda random.

Its a hot take but i never liked Jinx, yeah i know all of Silco's gang is just a bunch of murderers, but at least they have a plan and reasons. In season 1 most of the time Jinx acted on impulses or based on what her own halucinations told her. She somehow kept screwing over both sides at the same time. I tought she is way too far gone and there is just no way she is getting out if this all alive. Plus i cant see Vi and Cate being together with Jinx still in the picture after what she have done, how would that work? Even tho they were clearly meant to be endgame.

In this season they were giving her somewhat of a redemption arc, she almost felt like a diferent character wich is fine, except how much could she possibly change in this few short weeks after years of being the local joker? I guess the child was there to anchor her, but then when the writers had no more purpose for her, they made a 9 years old pull off a fucking kamikaze attack??? How? Why? We are gravely overestimating toddlers here.

Plus Vi and Cate made up odly fast, they had a very nasty breakup, like after an argument Cate just hit Vi on the stomach unpromted (wich was kinda weird), then they didnt see each other for months, i assumed it would take a bit longer and a bit more talking to restart their relationship, but then they immediately just start fucking in Jinx's prison cell WHILE JINX WENT TO KILL HERSELF??? Like i hated Jinx but not that much XD

And if the writers insist that Jinx is a changed person why are they also want to punish her as if she was still that psycho? And even if she is getting herself together why does she acts like a whole diferent person? She told Cate that she didnt knew that her mother was in there implying that she is sorry for killing her. But what is that even suppose to mean? At the time she didnt even knew who Cate was or that she existed a day ago, or who was on the cuncil. And either way someones mother was still there, the same way all people had relationships who Jinx killed but for years she didnt give a shit and all of a sudden she grew a concience? (Plus why did she gave herself up?)

Allright i guess good for her, but then why did she got killed at the end? I guess it was to atone for her crimes, wich is fine. But i wish it was a bit more meaningfull. Of course saving her sister is pretty meaningfull, but at that point the whole battle was over, the drones were dead, except somehow the beast still came back to life. I wish Jinx's sacrifice was more important to the whole general plot not just a little side event. Maybe she should have sacrificed herself in a decicive moment for the undercity, and then maybe it all could have been connected to Silco as well as he dedicated his life for it, and now so does Jinx.

Btw does anyone know why the ginger girl was suddenly about to kill Cate? I either missed it or totally forgot.

Halfway i remembered that wait, wasnt this suppose to be about the struggle and conflict between the two parts of this city? That original premise got pretty derailed with all this Viktor turning into a god for some reason and a foreign army attacking nonsense. I guess its not the worst idea to have the two sides join against a common enemy, we saw this trope before, but isnt it a little convinient?

The peace between the two sides should have happened because and thru people who had connection to both sides, like Viktor or Vi and Cate.

We still could have had Ambessa meddling with the whole situation but that ultimately should have only ended in the conflict between the two cities escalating. In season two Zaun basically just took the bullying form Piltover and then they were suddenly friends at the end. I am actually not criticising that they also fought against Ambessa, she was their enemiy too, but now the story became something else than what it was initially supposed to be.

The alternative universe. Yes paralell worlds are a fun concept, and they work in certain stories like spiderverse where that was the whole premise. But i really dislike it when its just added to stories suddenly. The fact that there are infinite worlds that are just as important and valid as the one we have been following really cheapens everything that have been happening, because now the stakes arent even that big, who cares if this universe blows up, there are billion others that are exactly the same.

Plus why was that universe all good? What changed, what was the diference? At first i tought maybe here Zaun and Piltover just allways had a better relationship? But then Silco shows up with the scar wich means that the revolution and the attempt at his life all happened. So once again, why and how this world is just better? Why did Silco forgive? What is this even trying to say, that it all would be fine if everyone was just nice to each other? I bet they never thought of that in the main universe. It felt very fanfic-y and disrespectfull to the whole story so far.

Plus what was even the point? It just took from the very limited and precious time of the story. Yeah this is how Ekko got his time travel device, but couldnt have he just built that in the main world maybe while making weapons just in case the whole worsening situation will get even worse? Jayce also could have just got a long lucid nightmare-vision of the future from Viktor (wich could have been the exact same) instead of literally getting transported into a failed world.

And am i the only one who thinks that its kinda stupid that the parents of Vi and Jinx knew Vander and Silco closely and personally? If so why did silco wanted to kill the kids of Felicia. In season 1 it seemed like they were just totally random kids to him. Yeah he is evil but still. What are the ods that its her kids? Zaun is a big place.

Oh and i just remebered, i find it a little funny, how at first the setting seems like its about these dastardly capitalists opressing the undercity, wich is kinda true, except the council members kinda just idiots and naive. Ignorant at worst. While Zaun keeps spitting up pshychos and freaks. And at every point the council allways votes for caution. Even when they kept getting attacked, they decide against violence because people would be caught in the crossfire and its actually Vi who calls them out and wants an army to march down there and cleane out the place. I really would have expected it to go the opposite way. Even when they got hit with a whole missile, first they still just vote against any drastic measures and decide to simply put a bounty on Jinx's head. I am not saying this is bad, its actually an interesting subversion of expectations, but its still a little funny.

Oh and i cant belive what Jayce said at the end. Did he really told Viktor that his illness and other imperfections are not something to fix because they are part of him and imperfections make people unike? My brother in Christ, you are talking about his crippling condition that made him live with pain and was actively killing him. Are you serious? And i heard this "imperfections make us who we are" bullshit multiple times before, but its one of those nonsense tropes that sound nice with music in the background but make zero sense if you think about it. Idk why writers insist so much. People are made up of positive, neutral, and negative traits. Why do people keep saying that out of the three its the negative ones that you have to hold on to or ignore. Imperfections are being insecure, quick to anger, jealous, or in this case being sick. None of them are good and all make the life of people harder.

I propably forgot about a few things, and i may change my opinions as it all settles down. But these are my initial toughts.

Plus its just me or was it hard to follow how much time supposed to pass between each event?

[triptychgrip]

The Katsuki-Nikiforovs Take Vanity Fair's Lie Detector Test

I'm such a huge sucker for writing post-canon Viktuuri content involving media appearances, and absolutely love Vanity Fair's Lie Detector Game series, so writing my new fic about Yuuri/Viktor filming an episode (with Phichit/Yurio/Otabek also present) was such a blast!

Chapter 1 features Viktor's turn in the hot seat, and Chapter 2 will feature Yuuri's turn (plus some very relatable Reddit content of their fans reacting to their episode)

Below is an excerpt that I hope will pique your interest in this or my other Yuri!!! on Ice stories!

-------

“Is your name Viktor Katsuki-Nikiforov?” Yuuri read off of the page, aiming for an impassive tone.

However, the smile that crept over his face was involuntary; how else was he supposed to react when Viktor’s heart-shaped one immediately emerged?

“I am! During my very happy engagement, I was just ‘Viktor Nikiforov’, but life got exponentially better when I married my soulmate back in April 2019 and got to add on his surname,” he smoothly replied, after which Phichit and several of the filming crew members loudly awww'd.

In contrast, Yura gave a very put-upon sigh, followed by a mutter of what sounded like “Jesus…it’s already begun.” (And out of the corner of his eye, Yuuri thought he saw Otabek laughing at his best friend’s dismay).

“Good answer, lyubimiy,” he responded, blushing and feeling fond. “Moving on…are you thirty-two years old?”

A small pout immediately formed on his spouse’s lips, and when he answered, his voice sounded sulky.

“Unfortunately. A veritable fossil, as my much grumpier student makes sure to remind me every day,” he replied, jabbing an accusatory finger in Yura’s general direction.

The Ice Tiger exchanged a smirk with Otabek and they both laughed.

Having fully expected Viktor’s forlorn tone, Yuuri grinned but otherwise chose not to comment; if he really did state everything that flitted through his head over the course of this game, he and Viktor would be here all day and end up missing their group dinner reservation at Casa Limone: a restaurant that Celestino had personally vouched for when Phichit had reminded him about the trip.

“In addition to being the best figure skater in the world, are you also a skating coach and choreographer?”

Viktor’s reply was immediate and exuberant.

“I am! A skating coach and choreographer to two extremely talented athletes, that is. But given that I’m retired, I don’t know about being ‘the best’ anymore,” he said, before surveying him, shrewdly.

Yuuri had a sudden sense of foreboding around what his husband was about to say, and wondered how possible it would be for his blush to deepen even further.

“My Yuuri is the reigning Olympic Champion in Men’s Singles figure skating, as well as a 3-time World Champion, and a 2-time Grand Prix Final Champion!” Viktor crowed, looking directly at the camera and holding up 3 fingers on his right hand, and 2 fingers on his left. “His quad flip and quad lutz are better than mine ever were, plus he continues to have the most stunning spins and step sequences in the field!”

“He’s telling the truth, he really does believe that you’re the best, Yuuri,” Funmi confirmed, making Yuuri feel the urge to hide his head in his hands.

More cooing cut through the air, and he decided to offer a counterpoint.

“I know he’s not lying and that he actually believes that, but Vitya will always be the best, end of story…sorry to everyone else in the field, including our very good friends,” he commented, dryly, with a glance to the side at the spectating trio. “Oh, and he’s also wrong about my quads.”

Holding a hand up when Viktor made a clear attempt to retort, Yuuri hastily rushed onwards.

“Continuing on with the last calibration question,” he firmly announced, “are you married to me, Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov?”

His rebuke seemingly forgotten, his love positively beamed . In response, Yuuri couldn’t resist stretching his hand across the table so that they could interlace their fingers.

“Yes! Very, very happily so, luchik,” Viktor earnestly answered, hunching down a bit to press a kiss to his wedding ring (causing the seemingly unruffled Andressa to direct a very dreamy expression their way, which made Yuuri giggle).

“Is anyone else feeling horrified right now?” Yura loudly interjected, prompting Kariesha and Otabek to let out highly spirited laughs. “For God’s sake, those were the calibration questions . This thing hasn’t even kicked off yet!”

Phichit’s commentary couldn’t have been more different in tone.

“I know, isn’t this excellent!? I already have like 4 different sappy clips for my Instagram reels!”

Yuuri ignored the two of them in favor of kissing Viktor’s hand in turn, and didn’t bother to lower his voice when he reciprocated his spouse’s tender sentiment.

“Likewise, Viten’ka,” he replied, smiling warmly at him. “Getting to call you my husband is the absolute best part of my life.”

[lumilasi]

Hiiii I've been reading your TVE fic and have been very intriqued so far by the characters/lore you are building!

I have a question about one of the characters, the Voidguard; you seem to be hinting a lot about his backstory and I've been trying to piece it together, and was wondering whether it becomes very story relevant at some point? Since you give it quite a bit of focus (makes sense to be fair, he seems to be the most important non-arcane character in the story!) I was curious if that's the case, or if it is just there to flesh him out and help explain why he's helping Jayce and Viktor so much?

Hope you have a nice day! (⁠っ⁠.⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠っ

Oh, thanks, glad you are enjoying it so far! And it's kind of both actually? (the character in question for reference, including the two fic covers that have his "Cosmic Deity" projection as well):

So, primarily I drop a lot of hints/info about Angus' BG story to establish why he's helping Jayce and Viktor when he doesn't have to (And normally wouldn't), but there are things about it that sort of... eventually foreshadow certain elements of the story, and provide some key pieces of information that have not been revealed yet. (For example there's.....a MAJOR secret about the Phoenix Serum the Main Viktor utilized to try and heal his twin from the first timeline that Angus hasn't told them about - and he has a very good reason for that.)

When it comes to the actual backstory, he'll elaborate on it at some point, but I suppose I could share it here as well as the story by itself doesn't really spoil anything per say - and I REALLY should've written it down for myself to begin with, given it is totally different from Angus' canonical, non-arcane backstory and character.

(I'm going to omit the parts that will be directly spoilery, I.E some things that happened after he and Lucian manifested in Ether. I'll only focus on his "mortal" life.)

I'll put it under the cut so this post won't be too big of a wall of text/if someone who's reading TVE doesn't want to be spoiled about it, even if I'd say his BG story doesn't do that directly.

TL:DR of it is: Angus has been in Viktor's shoes in some ways, and Lucian (and their late bio sister) has sort of played the role of Jayce for him in a sense. (just, obviously an actual brotherly relationship)

(Side note: This story ONLY applies to this version of Angus, the non-arcane one has a different bg story)

Angus, his twin Lucian, and their OG late sister (whom I shall call Frankie Sr, in Angus' OG story Franziska IS his biological sister, whereas Lucian is not even related) lived in a different world than Runeterra, but it still included magic in it. Angus was born with a very rare and special power known as Blood Sage magic (canon to his OG story as well), which is known for being extremely useful in fields of medicine and psychology, given how much dominion it gives over both body and soul. Needless to say, such power is easy to misuse in the wrong hands.

The Belmont trio had quite the terrible upbringing that left Angus with a lot of need-for-control type of trauma, tendency to both be extremely protective over his siblings, AND bottle up his own emotions until they release in an explosive manner. (not a good combo with his magic, he accidentally hurt Lucian with it a few times, hence his brother tends to still get a bit uneasy when Angus gets mad).

He had a mentor who noticed his unique magic and the desire to do good with it, which did help them escape the abusive household. He specifically helped Angus to discover and master a very old, powerful Blood Sage magic spell that allowed utter dominion over one's mind and body in a manner that wasn't invasive to the soul, I.E meaning there wouldn't be any sort of resistance that'd cause dangerous complications. Angus wanted to use it as a more powerful form of healing that could mitigate the typical risks associated with magic-based medical work in their world, but was generally somewhat hesitant about the ethical implications of it, so he didn't utilize it as much as his mentor wanted.

However, his mentor had some...questionable patrons that wanted to utilize Angus' unique powers to create sort of an utopistic hivemind, where people could live pain-free. He was VERY against this, so these people basically forced him into becoming the Host for their hive, faking his death to his siblings.

What they didn't realize was, that it is a TERRIBLE IDEA to put someone unwilling AND with the kind of trauma Angus had, in charge of something that precarious. Things basically went horribly wrong in the Hive as Angus lost control of himself and turned it into a bit of a terrifying horror show (Think STEM from Evil Within, if you know the horror game).

His siblings eventually found out what actually happened to him and ventured into the Hivemind to save their brother. On the way Frankie Sr had to sacrifice herself so Lucian could still reach his brother and snap him out of it, as otherwise they both would've been lost and the unstable hivemind could've started to spread even further.

Lucian did reach his sibling eventually, and once he managed to bring Angus back from his furious, unstable state, they realized that there was no way for Angus to get out without killing any survivors left; so, he sacrificed himself to release the last people left alive safely. He offered his twin to leave and save himself, but Lucian decided to stay by his brother's side, since it wasn't like he had any family out there left. (Whether this was the right choice or not is up to interpretation, and not really relevant for this story)

After their death, both ended up in Ether as wandering souls, and Angus was eventually taken under the wing of the then-Voidguard Shaell Samaros, where Angus basically sealed away his old magic (mostly, he still has it stored away within his soul) and replaced it with the Void magic granted to him by his Adept status.

[zalisok]

TUA Season 4 Episode 2

Time for episode 2! Spoilers ahead.

Is Luther sick? Because of the marigold??

The iconic crab dance. go luther go

They have their powers back jesus christ. And they all look pretty sick oh no don't hurt them

oh luther :(

"no don't look at me" "no don't look at me i'm hideous" these two I swear to god

LASER EYES LILA LET'S GO (she can't control it) but LET'S GO (subtitles: Lila's eyes become blip)

oh they let Viktor swear now:))) and his new powers sound a bit different, kind of like a gust of wind?

ben what

"i know you're all too terminally emo" BEN I CAN'T

oh Viktor's pissed...Allison too...

they are tAILS? not tENTACLES noW? bEN??

Klaus didn't take it!!! that's actually awesome, good for him for staying sober

omg viktor is going at it he's pissed as HELL(well, under the circumstances, i get it)

"Maybe because we ended the world three times" yes Allison say it

the silence is deafening

luther trying to be the peacemaker he's trying, guys

bEnjAmIN (subtitles: smarmy laughter) he's such an asshole i love it

"a human sippy cup" ouch

"he's a Klaus that Claire likes" :3

oh mY gOD ben

ROAD TRIP (side note Allison supporting Ben and Viktor and Lila linking hands--they're a family, guys)

Diego and Lila are really going through it huh. Three kids, and they never really had the best parental figures growing up (Grace is amazing, but there are some things robots can't replicate). They're trying their best.

this has mom/dad wrangling kids to summer camp/church vibes (both of which are not fun to me, but i digress)

why is there BABY SHARK??????noooOOOO

they listened to that for a whole hour how are they not insane yet

ok i take it back it's been three hours they are NOT having a good time

WHY IS THERE SO MUCH PUKING STOP IT PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD HOW DOES ONE PRODUCE SO MUCH VOMIT (i'm slightly upset they spend so much time of that)

hahah the glass

oh she's not diego :(

lila?? i don't like that look

how do diego and ben go from fighting to hugging so fast lol

why do they keep calling diego fat? he's not??

listening to christmas carols in august does not feel right

is ben a karen now hahaha--also, is this jennifer? recognize her from the trailer

sloane would've loved it

"we're not friends" aww :( that makes sense though

why are they spending so much time here when they should be helping jennifer? or investigating the marigold?

klaus doing tarot--hope nothing too bad happens

ben and the restaurant owner(jennifer??)--pretty nice

my first thought was that the old lady seems sweet but after a few seconds i have second thoughts

now that lila and five are talking about the cleanse--why do their powers appear the way they do now? some of theirs haven't changed, like diego and luther, some of them have a bit, like five's viktor's and ben's (i suppose viktor's is still sound-based) and some of their are entirely different (like lila's). don't know allison's yet though.

i really don't want this tension between five, diego and lila to be a big plot point. it doesn't seem to be going anywhere

oh things are getting weird

what the fuck oh shit

why does five keep appearing in the subway?

"lila use your eyeball thing" lol

oh the subway is so COOL--the alphabet is interesting

"It's okay, you can trust me" not really the best thing to say, i guess?

the whole town is in on this?????

a train that goes between timelines???interesting

diego and lila omg

DIEGO that's insane

omg klaus has been in the van for the whole time, blissfully unaware. typical, really

that's jennifer???how does klaus know that's jennifer???

what the fuck

oh my god what

OH SHIT

luther:(((

ALLISON WHAT that is so cool

omg evil santa

please stop with the sharks please please

oh my god for a moment i thought he was dead thank god

what is it with luther and sconces

WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT what was that

omg gene and jean why are they taking her???????????

overall: what is going on??? again, i have many questions. I also feel like some of the time in the episode was wasted on things like puking and weird jokes, so there wasn't a lot of plot. The time they spent at the carnival dragged on for a bit. I am still very intrigued, though--and worried, because two episodes have passed and not a lot has happened.

[fragmcntdstars]

@araneorum ( christina stane )

viktor  found  himself  somewhere  new  [  ...  ] again  .   was  this  revenge  for  having  been  the  cause  of  two  different  apocalypses  ?   apocali  ?   the  russian  hargreeves  wasn't  really  sure  if  there  was  a  way  to  make  sense  of  duplicate  apocalypses  ,  but  he  wasn't  also  sure  how  to  not  actively  cause  an  apocalypse  .   had  he  really  caused  the  one  in  dallas  ?   maybe  ,  but  that  wasn't  actively  his  fault  .   the  one  where  he  hurt  allison  was  definitely  his  fault  –  he  still  beat  himself  up  over  that  one  even  though  she  had  gotten  over  that  .   well  ,  maybe  she  hadn't  entirely  gotten  over  that  ,  but  viktor  had  given  her  enough  room  .   he  supposed  that  it  was  going  to  be  easy  to  give  her  room  now  ,  considering  he  really  didn't  even  know  where  he  was  .

he  knew  that  he  was  in  a  city  –  there  were  some  sounds  that  he'd  never  forgotten  .   he  feels  his  power  twisting  almost  at  his  fingertips  ,  but  he  can't  use  them  right  now  .   he  mainly  needs  to  figure  out  where  he  was  .   how  he'd  gotten  there  was  probably  an  easier  thing  to  find  out  .   he  didn't  know  how  much  five  had  used  his  powers  ,  especially  with  the  fight  on  sissy's  farm  ( he'd  never  quite  forgive  himself  for  that  )  ,  so  he  felt  safe  in  assuming  that  he'd  gotten  separated  in  the  time  -  stream  .   was  that  even  the  right  word  ?   he  really  shouldn't  worry  about  the  words  to  use  ,  but  it  wasn't  something  that  he  could  help  .   his  stomach  growled  a  little  ,  jolting  him  out  of  whatever  spiral  his  thoughts  would  have  inevitably  found  .   he  looks  around  the  area  &&  ends  up  finding  a  coffee  shop  .   digging  in  his  back  pocket  ,  he  gives  a  sigh  of  relief  as  he  pulls  out  a  wallet  .

had  luther  given  him  the  money  ?   it  had  to  have  been  him  .   klaus  didn't  carry  anything  on  him  &&  he  wasn't  sure  if  he'd  managed  to  get  back  on  five's  good  side  after  what  he'd  done  .   still  ,  he  needed  to  eat  or  get  something  to  drink  .   no  matter  where  he'd  gone  ,  viktor  knew  that  money  was  going  to  get  him  pretty  far  .   maybe  he'd  even  try  to  find  a  hotel  room  or  something  .   he  goes  across  the  street  to  the  coffee  shop  ,  almost  jogging  across  the  crosswalk  before  the  light  changed  on  him  .   he  knew  that  he  could  do  a  lot  with  his  powers  ,  but  he  wasn't  sure  if  that  extended  to  stopping  a  car  that  was  coming  right  for  him  .   entering  the  coffee  shop  ,  he  stops  to  look  at  the  menu  before  he  rubs  the  back  of  his  neck  .  

"  damn  .   i  need  to  get  a  haircut  ,  "  he  mutters  to  himself  before  tugging  a  lone  hair  tie  out  of  his  back  pocket  .   he  puts  up  his  hair  in  a  man  -  bun  before  crossing  his  arms  ,  studying  the  menu  further  in  some  vain  attempt  to  figure  out  what  he'd  want  to  eat  or  drink  .   there  were  too  many  choices  ,  but  he  at  least  knew  that  he  wanted  to  get  a  mocha  or  any  other  hot  coffee  drink  .   the  flavor  didn't  really  matter  –  he  only  knew  that  he  didn't  want  espresso  that  day  .