#doctor reveck

[arowyn-m]

I was thinking about this the other day and like okay taking this way too seriously but there's a few options:

As you said, Singed doesn't know who Jayce is at all

Singed is somewhat aware of Jayce and Viktor's partnership since it would be something worth noting in the wake of the Hexgate inventions...but then again Viktor could have censored himself from ALL press regarding that, so who knows

Viktor brought him up in present conversation. I'm not sure Viktor would entertain this because it doesn't seem like he cares for Singed but maybe Singed and him "caught up" a bit? I mean Viktor shows up in Singed's lab decades after their split, wearing Piltovan clothes and looking for drugs. That warrants a bit of explanation before you can move forward, but on the other hand Singed may not care. He doesn't ever ask questions—he just assesses whatever CURRENT situation for how best he can benefit. There's also the fact that Viktor's presenting him notes on a new Hextech device...surely Singed would notice that? Especially since Singed used to live in Piltover and be part of the inventor side of society...he would likely keep mental tabs on what large innovations are happening aboveground. Hextech definitely would qualify.

This isn't the first time Viktor and Singed have met since their split when Viktor was a child, and Viktor's brought Jayce up in past conversation. This one is the only one I'm like "eh that's probably not it" due to the look of recognition from Singed when Viktor comes to see him—that's only something someone does if they haven't seen someone in a long time, or if they've changed drastically in a short time. Although typing that out just now is making me realize that Viktor's decline probably changed his appearance significantly...but probably not enough to make him completely unrecognizable, especially not from a distance.

this scene always makes me laugh bc singed doesnt even fucking know who jayce is. but viktor heard love and immediately thought of him so singed is just like um. sure i guess

[tired-truffle]

Even the Gods Cry For Us

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 6.4k

Part 14/17

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

"I know my existence is temporary and so is yours. But god, please, as much as I love the stars they don't last forever. I don't mind being temporary as long as it means I'm temporary with you. I would paint a hundred more stars in the sky if it meant you never burnt out." - ambsthom

Warnings: Episode 6 of season 2

Masterlist

Frozen, your legs unresponsive in their stride. Your ears rang, not with the white noise that signalled your magic, but with echoes of words spoken between teacher and former pupil.

“You’re power is finite, diminished by every use.”

“The regenerative qualities of his blood will stabilize you. Apex Shimmer combined with you, the apex form of Hextech. And to think of what it could do for your lover…Mila is her name, isn’t it?”

Singed, or Dr. Reveck, as your brain supplied, though you couldn’t place the significance of his name.

It came to you in a rush, little details you hadn’t noticed until they converged into a bigger picture. Viktor’s winces when his magic faltered - he’d brushed it off as nothing more than feeling the complexities of Vander’s psyche. The exhaustion that clung to the skin under his eyes as of late, the paleness he’d chalked up to spending most of his time inside the greenhouse. The purply-grey and lines of gold that had begun to reach for his eyes, traverse across his forehead. He’d dismissed it all, and in your need for reassurance, you hadn’t challenged him. You’d believed him. Yet he seemed to know exactly what the doctor told him, like he had known for some time.

“He’s a man. And he needs my help.” Viktor paused, his sympathy for Vander running deep within his tone. “I will not sacrifice his humanity for your cause. You may leave.”

“Very well,” Dr. Reveck said, resigned too easily to be sincere. “But I assume you understand already, if you perish, this community is soon to follow. And how long will your beloved Mila last without you, do you think? You of all people know how…volatile Shimmer can be.”

Heavy boots padded towards you, and you stood still as Dr. Reveck approached. His gaunt figure cut a stark silhouette against the greenhouse's luscious backdrop.

As he passed, his piercing eyes locked onto yours. "Mila," he intoned, a slight nod accompanying the greeting.

He continued down the path, his coat rustling softly against the foliage. Just as you thought the moment had passed, his voice drifted back, barely loud enough for you to hear. "You did the unthinkable to keep him alive. It would be a shame if all your hard work and sacrifice didn't make a difference in the end."

The words hit you like a physical blow, stealing the air from your lungs. Memories you'd buried deep clawed their way to the surface - the fire that ate at your skin, the metallic tang of blood, life slipping away beneath your hands. You wanted to scream, to lash out, but your body remained stubbornly immobile.

Dr. Reveck's footsteps faded, leaving you alone with the thundering of your heart and the whisper of leaves as they responded to your magic, crackling along your limbs. You stepped forward in a daze, your legs unsteady as if you'd forgotten how to walk.

Viktor stood tall beside Vander, his head tilted in deep thought. If he’d noticed you he made no motion to acknowledge it.

You shook your head, struggling to find the words. "Viktor, I thought we talked about you telling me when something is…going on," you finally managed, your voice trembling. "Your magic, your life force, is fading and somehow you managed to hide it from me - or maybe I was just foolish enough to trust you at your word."

Viktor turned towards you then, guilt washing over his features. He opened his mouth, closed it, then sighed heavily. "I…yes. I didn't know how to inform you of my decline. You've been happy lately, for the first time in ages you’ve been without suffering. It felt wrong to steal that away."

The greenhouse suddenly felt too small, the air too thick. You paced, your footsteps echoing off the glass windows. Flowers bloomed around you in a riot of colour, their sweet scent nauseating. You’d stored as much of your magic away in the sparks as you could, but being so heightened had your emotions pulling on it against your will.

"Wrong to steal that away?" you repeated, incredulity seeping between your teeth. "How can we face what's coming if we're not honest with each other?"

Viktor's shoulders slumped and he turned his face to the side. "I believed that I could handle it on my own, find a solution before…"

"Before what?" you demanded, whirling to face him. "Before you collapsed? Before your magic gave out entirely and you died?" Your voice cracked on the last word, fear threading through your anger.

Viktor flinched as if you'd struck him. "I didn't wish to worry you," he said softly. "I thought I could spare you this."

You laughed, a bitter sound that tasted like ashes in your mouth. "Viktor, this is the opposite of sparing me. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that before you get it through your apparently leaden skull!"

Silence fell between you, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of your face and you wiped it away with a shaking hand. The greenhouse's climate control system hummed softly.

"How long?" you asked, dreading the answer.

Viktor held your gaze, his jaw tense. "I have time. It’s not immediate. I would have informed you if the situation became dire.”

Your anger dissolved into a piercing ache, like he’d taken a needle to your heart. Your eyes stung with unshed tears as you stared at Viktor, this man you'd trusted with your life, your heart, your soul. How could he have kept something so significant from you? You knew the answer, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

"I can't believe you," you whispered, your voice thick as you swallowed back your tears. "After everything we've been through, all our talks of facing things together, and you do this?" You ran a hand through your hair, tugging at the roots in frustration.

A terrible thought struck you then, cold and sharp as an icicle through your chest. "Do you not…trust me?" It came out small and broken as though you were afraid to say it aloud.

Viktor's eyes widened, a flash of panic crossing his face. "No, that's not it at all," he insisted, reaching out to you. But you stepped back, your body instinctively recoiling from his touch.

"I don't believe anything you say right now." The words tasted sour on your tongue, like the caustic smoke of burning bridges. "I need space."

You turned away, unable to bear the sight of his stricken face any longer. The greenhouse stretched out before you and you longed to lose yourself in its winding paths, to disappear among the exotic blooms and delicate foliage.

"We’ll talk about this later," you added, glancing over your shoulder. Viktor stood frozen, his hand still outstretched, a statue of regret. "But not right now. I just…I can't."

With a heavy heart, you strode away from Viktor. As you reached the greenhouse door, you paused. Without looking back, you could feel Viktor's pleading gaze boring into you, heavy with desperate apologies he didn’t voice - out of respect for your request for space or too stunned at your anger. The weight of it pressed against your spine, urging you to turn around, to forgive, to understand.

But you couldn't. Not yet. With a deep breath, you pushed open the door and stepped out into the fresh air, leaving behind the man you loved and the trust that lay shattered like shards of broken glass.

You made your way through the winding paths of the commune, your vision blurred by brimming tears. The vibrant colours and bustling activity around you became distorted, as if seen through a sheer veil of gauze. The sounds of life in the commune faded into an indistinguishable hum, overridden by the pounding of your heart in your ears.

Your feet carried you to the outskirts of the settlement, where the neat rows of buildings gave way to fields of produce, carefully tended, but deserted as lunch rolled around.

You sank to your knees among the high-reaching stalks, finally allowing the tears to fall. They streamed down your cheeks, hot and salty, dripping like raindrops onto the earth, the dirt soaking them up like a sponge.

Your body remained still, no tremors or sobs, only a silent cry. The emptiness inside you had numbed any deeper emotions. Had you left your heart behind with Viktor?

You didn't hear the approaching footsteps. It wasn't until a gentle hand touched your shoulder that you realized you weren't alone. You looked up, hastily wiping at your eyes, to see Charlotte's kind face peering down at you.

"Oh, sweetheart," she sighed, as warm and comforting as a well-worn blanket.

You tried to smile, to put on a brave face, but your lips trembled traitorously. "I'm fine," you managed to croak out, sounding hollow even to your own ears. 

Charlotte's eyes, wise and knowing, saw right through your feeble attempt at deception. She lowered herself to the ground beside you, her movements slow and deliberate. "You know," she said, a hint of levity in her tone, "it's been a long time since I've had a daughter cry to me about a boy. You'd be making me feel young again if you'd indulge me."

Her words registered slowly, like honey dripping through your consciousness. Daughter. The word echoed in your mind, a simple yet profound revelation. It didn't matter if she had called you her daughter or simply a daughter; the significance remained the same. With a choked sob, you collapsed against her, burying your face in her shoulder.

Charlotte's arms enveloped you, strong and secure. The delicate scent of herbs and sunshine, of home and the sweetness of motherly love clung to her. Her hand stroked your back in calm circles as you cried, your tears soaking into the fabric of her dress.

"Let it all out, dear,” she soothed. “You're safe here."

And so you did. You poured out your soul to her, the words spilling from your lips in a jumbled rush. You told her about Viktor's fading magic and the burden it placed on his body, about his withholding the truth, and the fear and hurt that pecked at your insides like a hungry bird. You couldn’t lose him, not again. Charlotte listened, patient and understanding, and you were thankful for every second she gave you.

Once the tears had slowed and you’d fallen into silence, Charlotte gently pulled back, her hands on your shoulders. She studied your face, her eyes soft with understanding. "Now then," she said, "let's untangle this mess, shall we?"

You nodded, wiping your dripping nose on your sleeve. Charlotte produced a handkerchief from her pocket, embroidered with delicate flowers. You accepted it gratefully.

"First things first," Charlotte began, settling more comfortably on the ground. A breeze rustled through the stalks, carrying the earthy scent of tilled soil and ripening vegetables. "You're hurt because he didn't tell you his life-sustaining magic was finite, yes?"

You nodded, twisting the handkerchief in your hands. "He promised we'd face things together. How can we do that if he keeps hiding things from me?"

Charlotte hummed thoughtfully, her fingers absently plucking a nearby weed. "Men," she said, a wry smile tugging at her lips, "have a funny way of trying to protect us. They think by shouldering burdens alone, they're sparing us pain." She shook her head, chuckling softly. "Fools, the lot of them."

You laughed, a watery sound that loosened the knot in your chest.

"Now," Charlotte continued, growing more serious, "that doesn't excuse his actions. You have every right to be hurt and angry." She reached out, taking your hand in hers. Her skin was warm and weathered, a lifetime of hard work carved into every line and callus. "But ask yourself this: do you think he kept this from you out of malice? Or out of misguided love?"

You closed your eyes, picturing Viktor's face when you'd confronted him. The guilt, the sorrow, the desperate need to explain. "Love," you whispered, opening your eyes to meet Charlotte's knowing gaze.

Charlotte nodded, squeezing your hand. "There's your answer, then. He made a mistake, a big one, but his heart was in the right place."

You sighed, shoulders falling forward. "What if he keeps doing this, thinking it's for my own good? I’ve already asked him not to and yet here we are."

Charlotte was quiet for a moment, her eyes distant as she watched the stalks sway. "Trust is like a garden. It needs constant tending. Sometimes weeds spring up, and you have to pull them out by the roots. But if the soil is good, if there's love at the foundation, it can grow back stronger than ever."

You mulled over her words, plucking absently at a nearby weed. "So what do I do now?"

Charlotte smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "You talk to him. You tell him how you’re feeling. And then you listen. Really listen. Not just to his words, but to what's behind them." She patted your hand. "And remember, it's okay to be angry. It's okay to need time. Healing isn't always quick or easy."

The path ahead wasn't clear, but at least now you had a direction. "Thank you," you breathed, leaning in to hug Charlotte tightly.

She returned the embrace with a soft pat on your back. "Anytime, Mila. That's what mothers are for."

As you pulled away, you bit your lip. "Charlotte," you began hesitantly, "you called me ‘a daughter’ earlier. Did you mean that like in general, or more specifically?"

You weren’t sure that you could have asked more awkwardly than that.

A tender smile played on her lips. "Family isn't just blood, you know. It's the people who stand by you, who love you even when you're at your worst." She cupped your cheek gently. "And you, my dear, have become as much a daughter to me as if I'd borne you myself."

Hot tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they were tears of pure joy. Unable to contain yourself, you threw your arms around Charlotte once more in a crushing hug. "Thank you," you sniffled, "I've missed having a mother."

Charlotte petted your hair, humming softly. "Well, you have one now. And I'm not going anywhere."

You stayed like that for a long moment, and when you finally pulled away, you felt steadier, more grounded. The hurt was still there, a dull ache in your chest, but it no longer rose up your throat like bile.

"I should go talk to Viktor," you said, rising to your feet and brushing dirt from your clothes.

Charlotte nodded, accepting your offered hand to help her up. "Remember," she said, giving you a final squeeze, "love isn't about never making mistakes. It's about how you handle them when they happen."

You smiled, feeling a surge of affection for this wise, kind woman. "I'll remember," you promised.

And you did.

You found Viktor in your shared room, halting his pacing mid-stride when you crossed the threshold, his doleful eyes locking onto yours. His hair was dishevelled, as if he’d been running his fingers through it repeatedly.

“I wanted to say—”

“Milá, it wasn’t my—”

You both spoke at the same time, stopping abruptly when you registered it. A rueful smile tugged at your lips despite the heaviness in your chest.

"You go first," you said quickly.

Viktor shook his head. "No, you. I insist."

With a deep sigh, you moved further into the room, stopping a few feet away from him - even as you longed to close the distance. Your hands clasped behind your back, fingers twisting nervously.

"I'm hurt," you began, your voice soft but steady. "I'm hurt that you didn't share this with me."

Viktor’s face twisted into a grimace, his eyes clouding with guilt. You pressed on, determined to say your piece.

"But I know you didn't do it to be cruel. You were trying to protect me." You paused, gathering your thoughts. "I understand that impulse, I know I’ve done it before, and I don’t fully know why this instance has affected me so much. Maybe I’m just tired of it, or maybe every time your mortality is in question I’m brought back to the same place I was for seven years; wondering if I won’t be enough to keep you alive. And I can’t even imagine how this must feel for you, it's your life and your body and it all just makes me so angry that you have to carry this, but I wish you would see that you don’t have to do it alone. We’ve fought so hard and it's so unfair and I can’t lose you again, Viktor, I won’t.”

You sucked in a shuddering breath, pinching the bridge of your nose to keep the tears at bay. To Viktor’s credit, he gave you space, waiting patiently for you to compose yourself.

Exhaling through your nose, you tucked your clenched fists into your pockets. “We're together. In everything. That means sharing the burdens, the fears, the ugly truths. Even when it's hard. Especially when it's hard."

Viktor nodded solemnly, his gaze never leaving your face. "I'm sorry, miláčku" he whispered, guttural with remorse. "It was not my intention to cause you distress, in fact, it was quite the opposite. But I recognize that it was the result all the same. If you are open to hearing it, I would appreciate the opportunity to explain further, as I have had time to reflect.”

You unclenched your hands, letting them fall to your sides. “Go ahead.”

With a deep, heavy sigh, Viktor began, “I am aware that you do not expect me to heal you as I have the others, but I find myself struggling with my lack of ability. It has always been my greatest desire to provide help and support for those who have no one else to turn to, and it has been difficult for me to let go of this when it comes to you. Without realizing it, I transferred this…need to heal into a need to protect - even from things that you did not wish to be protected from. I only wanted to minimize the harm done to you, as you have suffered enough, more than anyone should. But I now see that this was not the correct path, and I apologize that I betrayed your trust in this matter.”

He took a tentative step toward you, his hand outstretched but not quite touching. "Do you think that in time, you could forgive me?" he asked.

You studied him, taking in the dark circles under his eyes, the tension in his jaw, the subtle tremble of his fingers. This was the man you loved, every flaw and vice. He’d stood by you through countless struggles, had held you as you came down from your nightmares, whispering soothing words in the dark. He had brought you back from the brink of death, sacrificing himself in the process, and had cared for you when you’d been so lost in your own mind that you hadn’t been able to care for yourself.

"I'd be a bit of a hypocrite if I didn't," you said with a wry grin. "We've both made mistakes. What matters is that we learn from them, right?"

Relief washed over Viktor's face, his tense features softening with gratitude. Without hesitation, he closed the distance between you, his hand cupping your cheek with infinite tenderness, and you leaned into his touch.

"Thank you, lásko," he breathed, low and reverent.

You tilted your chin up, meeting his gaze. Viktor's eyes flicked to your lips, a question in their depths. You answered by pressing forward and slanting your mouth across his in a soft, sweet kiss.

Viktor's lips were warm and pliant against yours, tasting faintly of mint and honey. His hand slid from your cheek to tangle in your hair, cradling the back of your head. You gripped his robes, feeling the soft fabric beneath your fingers, anchoring yourself as the world spun around you.

As you finally pulled back, your chest heaving and your cheeks flushed, you opened your eyes - only to be met with a shock. Where Viktor's handsome face should have been, there was now a cold, unfeeling metal mask. It stretched from his forehead - two horn-like protrusions on either side - to just below his jawline. A thin metal bar ran down the center, dividing his face into two halves that lay still and undisturbed in their slumber.

With a startled gasp, you jumped out of Viktor's embrace. You blinked rapidly at the floor, willing the hallucination to disappear. When you dared to look up again, Viktor as you knew him had returned, the metal mask vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

"Milá?" Viktor's brow scrunched with worry, his hand hovering uncertainly between you. "Are you alright?"

You swallowed hard, trying to calm your racing pulse. "I'm fine," you managed, your voice slightly shaky. "Just…another hallucination, I think."

Viktor took a cautious step toward you, moving slowly as if approaching a spooked animal - it felt mildly accurate so you remained uninsulated. "What did you see?"

You hesitated, unsure how to describe the unsettling vision. "It's that same metal mask I saw before.” You searched Viktor's face for any hint of recognition and he nodded his understanding - though you found nothing deeper. "It covered your whole face, with a bar across your forehead and down the middle. And on either side, it looked like…like your face was sleeping? I don’t know, but I got a better look this time."

Viktor's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of something - surprise? fear? - passing over his features before he schooled his expression back to neutrality. "That sounds…disconcerting," he said.

You nodded, rubbing your arms. “At least they aren’t as frequent as before I got control of myself. I can handle a few jump scares here and there.” You laughed nervously, giving him a tentative grin.

“You’re sure that they are simply hallucinations?” Viktor asked, eyes narrowed in thought.

You frowned, considering Viktor's question. The hallucinations had become such a part of your life that you'd almost stopped questioning them. But now, faced with Viktor's probing gaze, you found yourself re-examining your experiences.

"I thought they were," you said slowly even as your mind raced with the implications. "They've always felt so seamless, you know? Like reality just shifted for a second." You gestured vaguely, trying to put the feeling into words. "Not like before the attack on the council, when I'd feel myself being pulled away. Now it snaps back to normal so quickly I can almost convince myself it never happened."

Viktor paced a few steps, his long fingers steepled beneath his chin. "Have you noticed any patterns?" he asked. "Any commonalities?"

You chewed your lip, your gaze drifting to the potted plant on the windowsill. "Maybe? It seems to happen most with you and the other members of the commune, but it's not like I’ve spent much time around anyone else," you ventured, uncertainty colouring your tone. "I don't know though. I try not to think about them, but maybe I should."

"It's okay," he said, reaching out to take your hand. "These glimpses can be difficult to pin down. But I think it might be worthwhile to pay closer attention in the future. Perhaps keeping a journal would help?"

You considered his suggestion, absently tracing patterns on the back of his hand with your thumb. The idea of cataloging your hallucinations was both intriguing and slightly terrifying. What if you found something you didn't want to know? But it would be better to be prepared.

"You're right," you said finally, meeting Viktor's gaze. "I'll give it a try. It can’t hurt."

The pride that radiated from him was enough to reinforce your decision. While nervousness and unease may prick at your neck, when Viktor looked at you like you hung the moon and the stars and everything in between, you found yourself unable to be afraid.

The warm rays of the afternoon sun were making their slow descent as you meandered through the commune. Before attempting to write down any of your observations on your hallucinations, you needed to organize your thoughts - and what better way to do that than to get fresh air and take a stroll?

As you rounded a corner, lost in contemplation, you collided with something unexpectedly solid.

"Oof!" came a startled yelp as you both stumbled backward.

When you caught yourself, narrowly avoiding falling on our ass, you found yourself face-to-face with Jinx, her electric blue braids askew from the impact.

"Oh, sorry!" you exclaimed. "Didn't see you there.” At a loss for anything else to say, you went with, “I believe Vander’s still in the greenhouse if you're looking for him."

“Of course he is.” Jinx rolled her eyes, dusting off her pin-stripped pants. “He won’t stop picking the flowers and givin’ ‘em to me.”

A smile tugged at your lips, warmth tingling in your chest at the thought of Vander's sweet gesture. "Aww, that's so-"

"Ugh, not you too," Jinx groaned, throwing her hands up dramatically. "It's not cute, it's annoying. Do you know how many flower crowns I've had to wear this week? My head looks like a walking garden!"

You couldn't help but giggle at her exasperation, picturing Jinx adorned with a rainbow of flowers. The image was both endearing and slightly ridiculous. Hadn’t she blown up the council just a few weeks ago?

Jinx shuffled her feet, her eyes darting around as if searching for an escape route. "Well, anyway," she said, her voice pitched slightly higher than normal, "wouldn't want to keep you from your Machine Herald’s loving arms, so I’d best be off."

The words hit you like a bucket of ice water poured over your head. You stared at Jinx, your mouth hanging open in shock. "What…” you swallowed thickly, “what did you just say?"

"What?”

“You called Viktor the Machine Herald.”

“Well, yeah.” She played with the end of her braid, a nervous gesture that you had noticed in your limited interactions. “Everyone calls him the Herald, and he's part machine, isn't he? So, Machine Herald." She shrugged as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Your vision from Progress Day - it had only been months, but it felt like years - that man with the large metal armour, his face behind a mask with glowing yellow eyes, came to the forefront of your mind. His shaggy, dark brown hair reminded you distinctly of Viktor’s, but outside of that, they bore little resemblance. Unless…the arm on his back, a laser at the centre, you’d seen one just like it; it looked identical to the one that Viktor had invented for Piltover’s artificers.

No, it couldn’t be.

But your vision had supplied his name: The Machine Herald. With your hallucinations - could you even call them that anymore? - there were too many similarities to ignore your unease.

Shaking your head, you said in a rush, “I have to go.”

“Uh, see you later then!” You heard Jinx call after you, but you were already moving.

The world around you blurred, colours and shapes melting together as your feet carried you forward on autopilot, weaving through the commune's winding paths without conscious thought.

The Machine Herald. Viktor. The two names clashed in your mind like cymbals, sending shockwaves through your soul. How could they be one and the same? The Viktor you knew was kind, compassionate, driven by a desire to help others. The Machine Herald from your vision had been cold, ruthless, more machine than man as he stood amongst the rubble, ready to fight.

Your mind raced, piecing together fragments of memory, frantic in your approach. Viktor's fascination with technology, his tireless work to improve the lives of those around him. The gleam in his eyes when he spoke of progress, of pushing the boundaries of what was possible. Had that passion twisted into something darker in your vision of the future?

You thought of the metal arm you'd seen and the one that Viktor had created; the Hex Claw, he’d called it. The Machine Herald’s was so similar to Viktor's in design - attached to their backs, a high-powered light or laser at the palm, and three pincers - yet weaponized, turned from an instrument of creation to one of destruction. How many steps separated the two? How fine was the line between innovation and devastation?

A butterfly fluttered past, its delicate wings a vibrant blue against the pale sky. You watched it dance on the breeze, soaking in its fragile beauty. Was this how Viktor saw the world? As something delicate, in need of protection and improvement? Would that view somehow warp?

You knew, deep in your bones, that the Machine Herald was a figure to be wary of. But why? What had you seen in that fleeting vision that filled you with such dread? Try as you might, you couldn't recall any specific actions, only the overwhelming sense of wrongness that had permeated the air around him.

You took a deep breath, centring yourself. There was only one way forward: you had to talk to Viktor. Maybe, if you worked it out together, you could find a way to stop him from falling down that slippery slope.

It was then that it hit you, like a slimy snake slithering over the back of your neck, its tongue flickering against the shell of your ear; that feeling of imminent danger, of death, of being watched, had returned. You’d thought it was gone when you’d tucked away your magic, a by-product of your hallucinations that wasn’t real. You were safe here, this was your home, but as you shuddered, that snake - that foreboding feeling - wrapped itself around your spine and squeezed.

Something was very, very wrong - and your magic had been trying to warn you. You hadn’t listened.

You needed to find Viktor, now.

It took no more than a split second for you to turn, pulling your magic from the sparks as you did so, facing towards the orb-like building - towards your room, your safe place where you and Viktor had spent countless nights curled up together - just in time to see someone disappearing into the building.

The man's dirty white coat flapped in the breeze, and in his hand, he clutched an unnatural-looking hammer, held up by his broad shoulders and muscular arms. Your heart skipped a beat. Surely that couldn't be who you thought it was? At that distance, it was impossible to tell.

Dread filled your lungs, a thick and suffocating fog. You broke out into a sprint, each step fueled by your magic and pushing you to inhuman speeds. But you were halfway across the compound, and you wasted precious seconds in your panic. 

You reached the building, but it was too late. 

Before you could catch a glimpse inside, a deafening boom reverberated through the ground as the top of the building erupted in a violent explosion - shattered like a bullet through a skull. The force of the blast slammed into you, lifting you off your feet and hurling you backward with an alarming velocity.

You landed hard on your back, the breath knocked from your lungs, but adrenaline surged, and though your head pounded, you scrambled to your feet. Your ears rang with a high-pitched whine and white-hot panic rattled your bones.

Viktor was in there.

Ignoring the protests of your bruised body, you burst through the entryway, your heart beating a frantic rhythm against your ribs.

Please, if any gods are listening, I am begging you to let Viktor be okay. I will do anything you ask, just let him live.

You stopped short, your panicked gaze pulled to the man heaving for breath before you.

“Jayce?” Up close, you’d recognize that jacket anywhere, stretched across his wide shoulders, metal embellishments upon stark white fabric. Or rather, dirt-covered, off-white fabric, torn at the hems. His hammer had changed and become…warped by the arcane, you could feel the wild magical energy pulsating off the device like it had a heartbeat of its own. 

Chest heaving with stilted breath, he turned towards you, hammer pointed at your chest. Teeth barred in a snarl, lips scarred and dry, eyes darting over you, searching and seeking. For what, you didn’t know. He planted his feet, your gaze catching on the brace that held his left leg, the shaggy length of his hair, the beard and the grime that covered his face. 

He was your friend, Viktor’s friend, he’d never hurt you. But the explosion, you’d felt it beneath your feet, had seen the shards of the dome crack and float in the air like broken bones suspended in time. 

“What…” A whisper, a tendril of wind curled beneath your chin, serene and tranquil, pulling your gaze away from your friend - weapon aimed at your chest, gritting his teeth, shoulders tense as he ducked his head - and towards the figure laying crumpled on the floor. 

All sound cut out, replaced by a ringing silence. Your lungs emptied of oxygen, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever taken a breath before in your life, you no longer knew how. A chill spread through your heavy limbs, accompanied by the sharp prickling of pins and needles. Your vision swam, your feet tripping over each other as you struggled to maintain balance. Distantly, you registered a dome of blue energy forming around Jayce, and his agitation as he pounded against the barrier, yelling warnings you couldn’t hear. 

“No, no, no,” you breathed as your lungs expanded against your will, ragged and wheezing. 

It couldn’t be him, not after everything you’d been through, everything you’d survived together. 

And yet there Viktor was, lying slumped against the wall, eyes fluttering as the hole in his chest sparked and spluttered with each laboured inhale. 

Your feet felt like lead and you fell to your knees beside him, ignoring the sharp pain as your bones collided with the hard floor. Your hands shook so uncontrollably that you almost couldn’t move him to cradle his head into your lap.

A gear fell from his palm, rolling away, and he smiled weakly at you but you didn’t miss the fear that stopped it from reaching his eyes. Your chin wobbled, a barely contained sob stretching your ribcage, feeling like it may crack.

“Viktor, please,” you begged, “you promised.” You bite your lip, tears streaming down your cheeks. “You promised you wouldn’t leave me. We’re supposed to do this together.” 

He coughed once, lacking any real force. He couldn’t clear a gaping hole from his chest. “I’m…” his breath rattled once as he inhaled, he reached up and his arm trembled with the effort. He tapped your chest once, over your heart, arm falling back to his side. “Here. Always.” 

He went still, peaceful, almost as if he was asleep, but his eyes remained open, devoid of any light, and his chest did not move with breath. Your hand fluttered over his face, shaking along with your body. 

“No,” you sobbed, breaking over the vowel, hot tears falling onto his lifeless face, serene and beautiful, even in death. Not like this, not again. “Please, don’t go, please, Viktor, I need you, I need you, please.”

Your head snapped up, weeping around scattered breaths as you focused on the man responsible for this. His jaw hung slack, hammer dangling limply at his side. The barrier flickered and spat.

"Give him back!" you screamed, voice raw and cracking. "Bring him back, Jayce! You did this, now fix it!"

But no amount of begging would revive him. You could plead and pray to the Gods themselves but they wouldn’t not answer your call. What had been done could not be undone. Jayce didn’t need to respond, you already knew. 

Beneath your hands, Viktor’s life spark extinguished, and your heart crumbled to ash and dust. 

A blood-curdling, keening wail rent itself from your throat, primal and filled with anguish. You cried your grief into a world that didn’t care, curling into his body, holding him tight against you like you could hold onto him for just a little longer, stretch your last seconds with him. But time was not your friend, and it kept moving, without Viktor. 

You screamed and you cried and something inside your chest snapped. Years ago, when you’d learned what a Motus Mage could do, you’d sworn that you would never fall into that trap. But then you’d fallen in love - had already been in love, if you were being honest with yourself, head over heels for that wonderful man. And he had been stolen from you, while your back was turned. By someone who had called himself a friend.

Why? 

Why did you let your guard down?

Why did Jayce do this?

Why did the world give you Viktor only to rip him from your side?

Why did Soraka say that you could save this world if the one you wanted to save it for wasn’t going to be a part of it?

You were a woman grieving the loss of her beloved, a daughter who’d found a mother and now sat on the precipice of losing her too, a friend who’d lost all who saw her that way - a mage whose vast wealth of power was tied to your emotions, and the strength of your loss, your sorrow and pain, shredded your restraints like fine paper. 

Your magic exploded from you like a supernova, raw power erupting from every pore. Your hair whipped wildly around your face, each strand crackling with arcane energy.

Time seemed to slow, the world around you grinding to a halt. Specks of dust hung suspended in the breeze, glittering like stars in the eerie stillness. Jayce’s fist, pounding against your barrier once more, froze mid-beat. Even the tears on your cheeks paused in their descent, tiny crystals of grief suspended in time.

For a heartbeat, everything was perfectly, impossibly still.

Then, with a sound like reality itself tearing apart, a blinding white light erupted from your body. It consumed everything - the room, Viktor's lifeless form, your own anguished face - until there was nothing left but pure, searing radiance.

You fell back, and there was only nothingness. Weightless, dark, nothingness.

Next Chapter

A/N: Please don’t hate me, I promise there is still gonna be a happy ending! The next chapter will be up tomorrow.

At least Viktor didn’t die before they resolved their fight…aha

You're welcome to yell at me in the comments or join the Discord server and yell at me there! (We also have art and general fun chats about arcane)

[brain-depositary]

Okay I've been seeing a lot of people talking about Viktor's characterization as a loner on this website and I don't think most people are getting it quite right. I see posts talking about assumptions of intelligent characters as being unemotional loners and about how he was so isolated because he was disabled and like. People are missing what to me is obvious.

The main reason why Viktor is such a loner is this asshole:

In season 1, before the opening theme, we get shorts of formative experiences in the main character's childhoods. If the main reason for Viktor being a loner was because he was bullied or at least excluded from playing with other kids, that would have been really easy to show. It's not like Arcane shies away from kids being mean to other kids -- look at what happened to Powder! But there's really none of that going on. He's playing away from the other kids but when he makes eye contact with Sky they seem more curious about each other than anything else. He might have been excluded but it's implied that this is not a permanent state.

But, instead of going to play with the other kids, he meets Doctor Corin Reveck and his seeming pet, Rio. Upon their first meeting, Reveck specifically flatters Viktor a lot, telling him that the reason he's alone is because he's smart, and lets him help caring for the cool exotic pet. For a little kid, this seems like a great deal... until it isn't. The pet is being cared for to be tortured, and Viktor realizes that he's only extending the creature's suffering, and he was taken advantage of to create this state of affairs.

Specifically, this creates the link in his mind that positive attention leads to being exploited. Not only does his disability lead to him being excluded, but things about that may lead him to inclusion only lead to bad things for him, too. Not only is he physically vulnerable, but his talents are also a vulnerability. This creates a lose/lose situation socially, so why participate at all?

And because this exploitation is such a normalized idea of what relationships are like for him, he keeps going back to Reveck, and allows himself to continue to be exploited, especially when he's in a vulnerable state -- he's just reverting to what he knows from childhood, that the good parts of him are a resource to be used. That's the obsession with legacy, yet at the same time he can't let himself be known to the public. Positive attention has been poisoned for him. He desperately wants it but doesn't know how to get it in a way that won't harm him. Jayce's love is what resolves this in the end.

[sticcmann]

singed headcanons which r probably gonna be disproven when season 2 drops

Feel free to add ur own

- agender, predominantly uses he/him but doesn’t mind any other pronouns. Afab

- did his own top surgery idk how

- demisexual

- divorced with his wife

- grew his daughter in a lab lmao

- blind in that green eye

- goes by “the Doctor” for everyone, Singed is a nickname he got in Silco’s circles after The Incident

- got exiled from Piltover after committing the war crimes in Ionia. Why do I think this is the case? Well bc Ambessa in the MV was shown on the shores of presumably Ionia, plus Swain has his demon hand already in it too.

- I believe the “singed is corin reveck” theory btw

- the way I see it he’s 60 years old in act two but if I’m being real he’s totally 74 or something

- has like three outfits — whatever it is he wore in act 1, whatever it is he wears in act 2-3, and also a sweater. He’d look cool in a sweater he’s a sweater guy you can’t change my mind and it gets cold in the caves

- eight years before act 1 Singed saved Silco after he got almost drowned. That was their first encounter with each other.

- Singed did Silco’s top surgery

- workaholic but that’s a given

- Jinx has asked him for help on her inventions before

the explosion affected him heavily

He had hemorrhage, eye rupture, fractured bones, third degree burns all over his skin, and respiratory issues from breathing in that much smoke and because blast impact

- he is somewhat self concious of the scars hence the scarf

- boosts his physical capabilities with shimmer (consequently why he’s still kicking at 74 with the conditions he lives in, burns he has and the work he does) (did you know he’s actually like 140 in league lore like wow steroids can get you far jkjk)

- no top lip. Taking that into account he probably wasn’t smiling when operating on Jinx. Plus it’s not a Singed arcane thing to do imo

- irdk how the hell he got his hands on vanders body I know the possibilities but none of them appeal to me like that is wild

Now my prediction for the finale of arcane

Singed finally comes out of his cave and the sheer magnitude of that action kills everyone and only singed survives

[godae]

         ❛ ❛  My name is  Terios,  I am a prototype experiment created by Doctor Reveck    ...    My purpose is to be the cure of all illness    &.    the death that plagues Runeterra. My only goal in this life is to grant    A FINAL WISH    to repair    &.    awaken his daughter.  ❜ ❜

         He took a breath, lids closing for a moment 'fore opening to look at the camera    &.    speaking again,

         ❛ ❛  My name is  Shadow.  I lurk in the darkest parts of Zaun - aiding the less fortunate     ...    My purpose is to protect those who don't get a fair chance at life;  I will give them life.  I am programmed to terminate any    &.    all who get in my way    ...    This is who I am.  ❜ ❜

         Shadow is considered a Yordle, however he is a mixed species in more scientific terms. He resembles that of a  hedgehog,  more alien than a typical one. Through the use of Corvin Reveck's tools    &.    other experiments - Shadow's make is what the peak of immortality can look to be. Despite his  drastically shortened  lifespan in comparison to an authentic Yordle;  He can self heal, rapidly. His skeleton is made of metal, a special kind that mended to real bones. Despite this rapid healing ability, his skeleton began to    REJECT    this bonded metal - Causing immense pain on the daily    &.    eventually reaching it's way into the brain.

          Shimmer is often used in attempts to  soothe  Shadow's pain - becoming an addiction    &.    eventually using mass amounts to cure something incurable - something that disfigures his body in the long run.

          Much like  Warwick,  blood is a necessary key to controlling    &.    satiating Shadow's thirsts - Fortunate for him, he has it under control rather than the beast unleashed in the Underground in later years.

          Once Viktor's  Glorious Evolution  came into play, he became one of those connected on a higher plan. This temporarily cured his own diseases - although, once the war started    &.    everyone ascended? His body became mostly of metal, not like the others. He had his conscious for the most part, losing who    &.    what he was in the process    ...    One the war ends    &.    everything gradually went back to normal;  He is put to rest    &.    doesn't wake again until 50 years have passed.

           Thus, creating true, pure immortality - Docter Reveck doesn't live to see this. Shadow is found in another place of Runeterra, residing in the  Shadow Isles.

[triphimi]

Arcane season 2 review and opinions (spoilers obv):

As a show by itself it was good... not as good as 1st season I feel tho? Obviously the biggest problems s2 has are pacing issues and lack of time which resulted in a very rushed story in the whole season but especially episodes 8 and 9.

The ending is bittersweet which was expected, but the lack of connections between characters in act 3 was lame. Yes, I'm bitter about Sevika not having a single line throughout the whole act and Isha not being mentioned by name at all.

That sex scene felt so forced too ngl. I wish we still got it but in different settings cuz like Vi, your sister kinda went to kill herself. The scene itself was cool ig but why did it have to be in a prison cell bro.

I liked what they did with Viktor, Ekko was carrying the plot of act 3 and saved the day as usually, Singed got the happiest ending out of everyone which is funny and fitting to his gameplay in lol. You know, fuck around everywhere, piss off everyone and get away. Isha despite being just a plot device was a nice addition still, loved the dynamic between her and Jinx and Sevika.

Making Singed Orianna's father and the Doctor Reveck was something people were speculating about for a long time already.

Now speaking as a league of legends fan after they decided to make Arcane a main canon...

Why? Things were perfectly fine with how they were before. Sure, some things being canon are cool maybe but it sacrifices so much of the already existing story for this. And it messes up the timeline so bad. Mostly because Singed seemed to stay in P&Z and it doesn't seem like he has any more ties with Noxus after Ambessas death and he didn't seem to have any before so... who made the gas for Noxian invasion of Ionia? Did that even happen anymore. The Invasion had to happen bc Swain seemingly already has a deal with Raum (unless we want to speculate that the crow was just Raum before he made a deal with Swain but who tf knows now?)

If the invasion did happen already then either:

a) Singed did make a gas for Noxus before Arcane and it's just never mentioned that he had previous connections with them?

b) Singed didn't make the gas Noxus used in the invasion. Takes away some importance Singed had in lore but with that new one, he at least has something. With that half of Ionian champions lore isn't fucked at least

c) The invasion did happen but they didn't use the gas which messes up SO MUCH. Half of Ionian champs lore is not canon now? Did something different happen to them, who tf knows?

I know the next series will probably be set in Noxus which might explain some thing (pls timeline) but that's like another 3 years or so of waiting.

Sorry if it felt mostly negative. I don't think that season sucked completely and would still rate it 8/10, ig I was just holding it up to a higher standard than i should've. Its also bc I focused mostly on act 3 here and kinda wanted to rant about the all the main canon lore from before Arcane is now in limbo of what's canon and what's not, and unfortunately it doesn't just include P&Z and Noxus.

[ao3feed-piltovers-finest]

Whenever, Wherever

by xNekorux

Mistakenly pronounced dead on the scene of the explosion fifteen years ago, Vi finds herself waking up under the illegitimate care of Doctor Reveck and his only child, Orianna. Suffering from retrograde amnesia due to the incident, all she could remember about her life were splashes of blue, brown and white, fragmented memories with no solid image.

Adopted by the Revecks, Vi started a new life at the age of fifteen with Corin and Orianna as the only family she could have and know.

But now, the past has finally caught up to her. How was she supposed to know that she's always had a sister in the undercity? A father and two brothers? Why does one of the high houses in Piltover know her by a different name? And why did Councilor Kiramman looked at her as if she hung the moon and stars in the sky?

Words: 22758, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 2 of "What if..." League/Arcane Series

Fandoms: League of Legends, Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F, F/M

Characters: Vi (League of Legends), Powder from s02e07 AU (Arcane: League of Legends), Caitlyn (League of Legends), Ekko (League of Legends), Orianna Reveck, Claggor (Arcane: League of Legends), Mylo (Arcane: League of Legends), Singed | Corin Reveck, Vander (League of Legends), Renata Glasc, Cassandra Kiramman, Tobias Kiramman, Grayson (Arcane: League of Legends)

Relationships: Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends), Ekko/Jinx (League of Legends)

Additional Tags: AU Caitlyn is Alive, AU Vi is Alive, Amnesiac Vi (League of Legends), Bits of Old Lore, Ekko's Alternate Universe from Episode: s02e07 Pretend Like It's the First Time (Arcane), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, no beta we die like maddie, Caitlyn is Councilor Kiramman

Read on A03. from AO3 works tagged ‘Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)’

[hexedevolution]

🫂 from Orianna ( @rntr-testinggrounds )

Send 🫂 to just hug my muse. No reason. Hug them.

Viktor froze momentarily as the construct wrapped her arms around him. He had since learned of Singed's true work - what everything had been building up towards. Rio. Shimmer. Warwick. Himself. It was all a chain of events that finally came together so Orianna could wake up. Viktor had seen her in her stasis pod - through Singed's tough. Perhaps the Doctor had intended for him to see - to understand. He was possibly the only one who could truly fathom, and agree, with what Singed had planned.

This was what Viktor had envisioned for the future. Perfection in metal. No use for fear of diseases or even death. Orianna would be one of the first to know true peace.

"Welcome back, Miss Reveck." He spoke as gently as his voice allowed, placing one hand between her shoulder blades upon her back. The other remained clinging to his staff.

[arcane-temp-fandomblog]

Arcane character parallels / Heimerdinger vs Singed / Ugliness of saving lives

So I'm really thinking if Singed and Heimerdinger are intentionally a parallel to each other, with one siding with Zaun and the other with Piltover on what is acceptable price for Progress. Both meeting aspiring young people in Zaun - Viktor & Ekko.

But more how are these two character's constructed as mentors or guides. Because while Ekko and Heimerdinger aren't shown as different in power relation, Ekko doesn't reach out in same way to anyone topside. We have one example - Viktor that can serve as comparison.

So when Viktor & Jayce are working on Hexcore and can't figure out how to make it do healing magic, there are very similarly phrased conversations between Heimerdinger and Singed. And both give prophecy of what will be the fallout for engaging in trying to find the cure through hexcore.

First Heimerdinger:

Heimerdinger is very sorry that Viktor is dying, but the stakes are either one life or whole nations destroyed. That is his warning.

How will be these nations destroyed by the hexcore - we don't know? Will it be through healing magic? Will it be through evil hexcore magic? Will it be through magic?

And the ending is - Viktor & Jayce either destroy the hexcore by themselves or Heimerdinger will do it for them. This research is against the ethos. Those are their choices. Same difference.

btw. if you agree with Heimedinger, you should even more agree with Ambessa in Mel's fllashback when she cuts of the head of 'the symbol of old regime'. She at least tells you her reasoning of stakes of both options and chooses to take the action in her own hands.

Anyway, then we have Singed, but for now he's only referred to by Silco & Jinx as 'the doctor', and whose name most probably will be Corin Reveck (if Orianna is his daughter).

But we have very similar exchange - just in different order, but I'll rearrange them:

Singed finds hexcore's results fascinating. He also offers a possible reason why it doesn't work - I can assume it's probably by chance correct since Hexcore and Viktor are bonded by blood. So it may not work on random organisms like plants. Plus he offers even material solution - shimmer. Is it perfect solution? eh no - but undercity was never a place for perfect solutions.

But there's a warning too:

And imo. it's about how Piltover society with it's strict Ethos of science will react to taking this path by Viktor. But as it stands it's a very grounded explanation of pros and cons of choice Viktor has in front of him. For me these sound more tangible than nations destroyed.

I really want to know what was the situation Singed and Heimerdinger parted ways about, because I don't know what progress means for Singed. It for sure involves saving lives and helping Silco in his nation of Zaun project against Piltover.

I mean Singed for sure isn't perfect in his methods, but these are situations people run to him for help as a doctor. At deaths door and as a doctor he'll have to get his own hands dirty to try to fix it. Like look at this mob-dad being all panicked his baby girl will die.

And then he explains to Silco what may be the price or worst case scenario of saving her life.

Also love that Silco can't even answer if he's prepared to lose Jinx. He's not. What a true villain.

There's only one choice he doesn't leave up to Silco, and that is to witness the pain Jinx will be going through or her death. It may all be related to the fate of his own daughter as he alludes. And maybe also to do some extra experiments on her. But honestly, who knows since at that point Jinx so out of it, she's oozing shimmer - and I'm pretty sure all her other visions of Vi and Caitlyn are very coloured too. Like them being there. But let's take wild guesses fo yes/no/maybe?

Hmm, maybe, maybe this is his time of revenge after she burned half of his body and face off in explosion. Long time coming that one.

In the end he saves her life. Not perfectly and in nice way, actually the process was traumatic and ugly, but life is a life. What's the other option? Letting her die?

And that leads me to this two contrasting scenes - between Singed & Viktor and Heimerdinger & Ekko.

They even both have an issue with the leg, well for Viktor it's just normal, but Ekko has it temporarily. But the fascination with inventiveness of someone else. The spinning of the rotor. Thou for Singed it must be more like seeing a lonely but gifted child, since it's not like Singed couldn't make such things himself with how much he relies on different equipment.

And then there's the final point where the respective two people reach a connection - they are having the same kind of day in both instances. Viktor is less trusting in stranger's intentions as a child than Ekko as an adult, but oh well:

Singed is always such a scary wildcard in comparison to Heimerdinger. So I guess it's good Ekko skipped that step entirely and met Heimerdinger first. He even offers medical advice, kind of wrong student of his but... Ekko is not dying. Or researching hexcore. Anyway, we've seen he tried to offer assistance just couldn't, so he's going back to Piltover's side. The undercity can stay as it is I guess. Nothing to be done. Complete opposite of Singed which dragged Jinx from death's door. But at what cost...

I really wonder if Ekko and Heimerdinger are having exact same day? One was nearly killed and one strolled around a district of a city. Kind of weird to have to sneak into there but whatever works for him.

Anyway, I wonder if and how this parallel will unfold, as another poster mentioned Heimerdinger's students track record is... eh? 0 of 3. What we've seen. Joking, it probably is way more since he's been the Dean of the Academy for 200 years.

Cautiously I'll sign my name under Singed being the better mentor material. Prove me wrong Arcane Season 2, I dare you.

Other posts by me - Arcane meta analysis posts - mostly politics, tech and character parallels. Oh, and since I love to torment myself with my phobia of insects, I actually probably found what is Heimerdinger's symbol animal. For Singed as in Corin Reveck - it's a moth since Reveck is a genus of moths. While it was hard to fit Heimerdinger's last name into a genus, I found some insect genus contenders like Australomimetus Heimer and Plesiophantes Heimer. One is a spider family that feeds on other spiders and other is a family of spiders commonly known as money spinders. Dinger is just a slang term for something 'excellent'. Take it as one will, if there's is a reasoning to giving everyone insect associated symbolism in this story. For all symbols and surnames so far: Firelights, Crow, Butterfly and the “Bastion of Enlightenment” that is a beacon to all the Moths

[dastardlydumb]

You know if singed is Oriannas father that would mean his name is actually Corin Reveck which makes alot of sense since he is originally from piltover and as we’ve seen from arcane, people from piltover usually have a last name.

I just wanted to point this out because it always bothered me whenever I would read his league short story, he was always called “professor singed” which would firstly indicate that singed is his last name, which begs the question of what his first name is? but regardless, it never quite fit into the overall piltover theme

I mean it’s literally like calling urself dr doom and THEN turning yourself into a villain. Rather than calling urself dr doom because your a villain. (okay maybe not the best example but you get the idea)

in arcane they did it in more of the logical order with having him firstly be called “the doctor” and then have him earn the name “Singed” after he quite literally gets singed due to the flames from the explosion Jinx caused, which ended up scarring his face.

and I just really appreciate that.

[amechanicalgirl]

(This was overdue I am sorry haha)

The mechanical marvel of Zaun... or Piltover now depending on who you ask stood before the old chemist. Singed had his own reputation and he had heard all the rumors about her. He was uninterested in much but he knew information would always come in handy even that which was just a rumor. "Orianna, The dancer on strings. What a magnificent display of mechanization and a strange display of symbolism." He got a little closer examining trying to investigate the inner working from what he could see. "Who was your creator again? The name seems to have slipped my mind."

The motion was subtle, an ever so slight shift away from the supposed doctor that not even she had been consciously aware of, with a careful and leering gaze that seemed to lock onto every motion he would make.

“My father’s name is Corin Reveck. You should be aware of him, his name was very prominent just a few years prior. Though, I suppose that may be less likely if you are not one to care about prosthetics.”

[mxchineherald]

 He was pulled into a cycle of thought that often plagued him. Yet again, his life had been saved at the cost of something far more precious. If he had died, and she had lived, then Doctor Reveck would have no reason to commit his atrocities. Shimmer wouldn’t have ravaged his home. Vander would not have been made into Warwick. Rio would have been allowed to pass in peace.

 He was so small when she saved him, no more than four or five. If he would have died, his parents would have had to suffer the loss of their baby, but in the end, perhaps the world would have been better off. No Hextech. No ‘Glorious Evolution’. No end of the world.

 He returned to himself rather suddenly when she spoke again. Kindness and compassion leaked into her mechanized voice, scraps of her old self that refused to burn away through her change into this new form. Though much of her personality was muted, the goodness in her heart could never be taken.

 He was wordless for a time, unable to put to sound his bubbling stew of feelings. All he could do was try to breathe through the chest freezing anguish. When she said it had been worth it, his heart broke to know just how wrong that felt. He lowered his gaze from her innocent eyes, the tears dripping down onto his lap.

 When she asked where he was, he took in a deep breath of air, slowly releasing it in a shaky sigh. “… He is here. In front of you,” he admitted , hoping that she would be able to understand. He still didn’t look up at her, unable to bare the purity of her gaze. “Though… I cannot say whether that is for better or worse.”

There was still much she needed to adjust to in this new form of existence, including inhabiting a body that, while hers, didn’t feel like it truly belonged to her. Somehow, it was as though her soul couldn’t fully fuse with it, despite the body being meticulously crafted to replicate her original one. It matched her exact measurements and required far less maintenance—no need for food, water, or even breathing.

As she left the memories the arcane had dredged up, a sense of detachment from her new reality lingered. A part of her longed to return to that time, to feel her emotions again. Everything now seemed so dull.

Well, almost everything. When her gaze landed on her surroundings and then on Viktor—tears glistening in his eyes—something stirred within her. Concern and worry tugged faintly at her heart, fragments of her old self emerging as she tried to grasp the reason for his sadness.

"Is everything alright, Viktor?" she asked, stepping forward to get a closer look at him, as though proximity alone might help her understand the Herald and his emotions. "I'm glad to hear the boy is alright. Then it was worth it." For her, it had been worth it, though she knew her father would likely have felt differently.

"Do you know where he is?" she inquired. It hadn’t yet settled in her mind that years had passed since she last saw the boy. She still pictured him as the child she had once saved, not realizing how much time had truly slipped away.

[arcane-temp-fandomblog]

The last frame of reference we have within Viktor's life span is Machine Herald Era, an era that- borrowing some words from Twitter- sees Viktor so depressed, so isolated, that lobotomizing himself is the only way for him to continue working at peak.

I really wonder if that's the truth or like a boogie-man fable in Zaun about him.

Because his short story in lore - he is not that different from his in show self. Like he uses his laser to heat up sweetmilk for a child and tries to teach a random tress-passing in his lab kid to think critically about the world around him and not believe in everything everyone says then gives him a placebo so he's not afraid to stand up to his bullies. I think it's kind of warm and still has a bit of mischief we see in act 1.

Singed does not care about people, he does not care about approval, he cares about his work.

Good, no one should care about Piltover's approval, Jayce did and that ended "splendidly" for him in that mine fight.

Singed is a broken man. I think he was much more like Jayce when he still was part of Piltover, not Viktor, since Singed is from Piltover. Food for thought - since Viktor is the only person that will become in a way a mage - it makes more sense that Viktor's character archetype is the mage from Jayce's flashback - a faceless man that does good. And Viktor's flashaback would have Jayce's archetype - a man of science who lost belief in the system and progress Piltover represents. The flashbacks are in some way connected because they share a symbol - the butterfly. So it could be either swapping of archetypes, or it may be that shimmer + hextech actually create real magical abilities (and hextech drake which is interestingly mostly purple and changes rift to worst fucking map with the gates - f.u. Jayce & Viktor, I hate that map, where is cloud drake when u need it.)

I think when Singed was young he believed in everything about what his City of Progress represented but the passing of his daughter broke him completely. His feelings and human attachments broke him completely.

I'm not sure he only cares about work since his work is about people, he's the doctor - or the best Silco and rest can hope for in terms of medical help. He is the man Silco runs to when his precious daughter is at the verge of death, he saves Jinx's live, he's the man Viktor seeks out (albeit reluctantly) and who offers Viktor real advice - not, "it's better if you just died in case in worst case scenario nations would be destroyed because of your cure".

Like come on, he is soo unfeeling that he keeps his daughter's portrait around and touches it softly

This is not a gesture an unfeeling psychopath focused on only work would do. Imo. this is a very broken man whose daughter died probably at Piltover's fault, and in retaliation he joined Silco's cause.

This are the lyrics in the Season 1 ending music video playing over his and Warwick's part

I couldn’t care what invention you made me

Is it about Warwick? Is it about Singed? Is it about his daughter who may be Orianna? Is it about all three of them?

Hope we'll get more explanation about Singed and if his daughter is Orianna, oh, that will be truly juicy. Like I urge people to read Orianna's lore profile to try to merge it with Singed's or what more likely was his name - Corin Reveck.

I'mma go defend this potential war criminal, right? this is the hill I die on.

Can I have a uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Regularly Scheduled Spicy Take for my followers?

I don't think Viktor is nearly as much of a closed in single minded workaholic as he's often portrayed, by others and admittedly by myself in the past. And I believe we have fallen into a very easy pit trap;

We are taking Viktor at his most desperate as his typical.

I mean, cmon, the only two times we ever see him are when he's first meeting Jayce and when he's Literally Dying. Complete extremes that cannot be reconciled.

BUT, we can consider some things that other characters have said about him. Namely, Sky's concern at just how much Viktor has been working, and Jayce's statement that Viktor has a tendency to disappear whenever he feels like.

This in my opinion paints a picture of a man who, while very private about his life, certainly has or had one.

Mind you, we see him as a child, and what do we see him do?

Immediately try multiple times to reach out and make connections despite having been isolated due to his disability and advanced intellect.

I do not believe that this desire has magically dissipated as he ages, replaced with a pure drive to do nothing but work: even his conviction toward his work is centered around giving people better lives to live.

The last frame of reference we have within Viktor's life span is Machine Herald Era, an era that- borrowing some words from Twitter- sees Viktor so depressed, so isolated, that lobotomizing himself is the only way for him to continue working at peak.

I know this seems all over the place but, so I'll sum it up.

I believe that the little glimpses we've seen of Viktor in his early life show a witty, charismatic, warm man who yearned to have relationships, who did not devote his entire life to his work until his entire life depended on his work. And by the time Viktor was healthy enough that he could have returned to being that warm, clever man, he'd been so isolated and ostracized that the only thing he found on the other side was depression and betrayal, and felt that pain so strongly he attempted to physically remove his capacity to feel at all.