#jayce fanfiction

[grugruel]

Can you do that for me?

Pairings: ruined!Jayce x f!reader

NSFW/MDNI

Masterlist

Summary: Formerly partners, you've started a new business in Zaun after Jayce's disappearance. One day, after hearing whispers of Victor's apparent evolution, Jayce shows up unannounced.

Wordcount: 4.2 k

Warnings: Some canon stuff (beware spoilers), pinv sex, angst, fluff, fingering, slight handjob, choking, biting, creampie, doggy, missionary, cowgirl (a lot of positions), sub/dom/switch!Jayce, power struggle, fight for dominance, praise (f and m recieving), spanking, overstimulation, "I love you", difficult feelings, hot depraved Jayce.

AN: Not proofread, I intend to make a few changes to it later but wanted to get it out. Might be spelling mistakes. I tried to fit a bit of everything into this. ENJOY GIRLIES🎀

Having pulled the curtains aside, a vigilant man inspects the dark streets below. "He's almost here, ma'am," the man says, eyes following the subject. There's a slight stiffnes to his stance, as if he's readying himself for a fight. "What do you want us to do?"

"Let him in," she smiles at him faintly, attempting to reassure the large man before returning to her paperwork. "Dont give him trouble, there's nothing to fear."

The guard nods slowly and crosses the room to leave, he knows she's right. Yet, he stays in the doorway, shoulders slumped and arms crossed.

Warm light creeps in through the entryway, contrasting the faint light that Zauns streetlights provide for her otherwise gloomy office.

Noticing how the strong wash of light remains, she looks up at her guard to find another question lingering on his lips. "I've know you long enough to tell when something ails you." She leans back in her chair.

He catches her gaze reluctantly, facing away before he speaks. The man clears his throat, he knows he's crossing a line. "He's trouble, if you ask me. The boys and I-"

The woman pulls her glasses of and sighs, done with her work for the evening. "Im a big girl, I can handle myself."

The guard leans against the doorway and shrugs in reluctant recognition. "We're worried for you, ma'am-" but catching himself on his words, his hands gesture to remedy his meaning. "Respectfully, of course," he ads quickly, aversed to insult his employer.

The woman stands slowly, walking around her crammed desk to casually prop herself next to him. "I know," she reassures, placing a soft hand on his chest. "But I'll be fine, send him in."

The large man huffs. "We'll be outside then," he begins, but as the next words begin to form on his tongue, he decides against it, solely out of trust for his employer. If he could, he would've added 'when you need us'.

She doesnt doubt it, nor does she take offence. They're a tight knit family down here, she cares for them as much as they do her. But this would be an interaction no family member should hear. "That won't be necessary, keep to the foyer . . . Now go," she hurries him, careful to keep an understanding smile on her lips lest he changes his mind.

With a heavy breath and one last glance, the guard reluctantly closes the door and heavy footsteps recede.

She sighs, moving to brace her hands against the desktop and preparing herself for whats to come, for what she suspects.

She lights the lantern on her desk and waits. Only a moment later the same warm light creeps into the room. She twitches, unprepared for his arrival inspite of her efforts as the squeaking door slices through the eerily silent space.

In her peripheral, a fallen man stands. He's tired and dirty. Cut up and run down. There's a moment of contemplation between her and the newcomer, she does not move and neither does he. It's been a long time.

Squeak, thump, click . . . Pause. He's locked the door. A heavy thud between metal and wood sounds next, there's a faint sound of coarse skin sliding along fine metal before the familiar vibrations of hextech dies out.

All that exists between them now is heavy breathing in two parts, laboring against their own minds and bodies.

The floorboards begin to creek, irregularly, as if the weight placed upon them has not yet decided it's course of action. She grips the desktop harder, fingernails burrying into fine wood. She can only guess why he has come. "It's Viktor, isn't it?" She breathes, trying hard to keep her voice steady.

She gets no response, the only answer she recieves is the creeking of floorboards as the uncertain weight shifts back and forth. But that is all the answer she needs.

Having seamingly made up his mind, determined footsteps approach her in a sudden haste. Srong arms wrap around her body, pulling her toward a hard chest in a tight, tight embrace. His head collides with her shoulderblade as he burries his face in her scent. Muffled by her body, strained breaths blow welcome warmth onto her skin.

"What's happened?" She whispers, not entirely sure she wants the answer for she can smell him now. Metal and gunpowder. But it's not the type raw metal used for smithing or creating, it's not the metal she's used to. No, this is pungent, corporeal. It's blood. "Jayce, please . . . " She begins, 'talk to me' her lips shape, but no sound comes out. Unable to muster the strength.

"Cant- I cant . . . talk about it. Not now, not yet," he manages, voice rough as if he has fought and damp breath raising goosebumps on her neck. "I just . . . Needed you. I need you."

A strong hand slides higher, knuckles intently brushing the underside of her breast. "Can't think anymore."

And inspite of her better judgement. "Ok," she agrees, whispering, as if her consience wouldnt be able to hear. She's missed him, worried for him. So, her body betrays her.

Laying her hand on top of his, she guides him over the hill of her breast.

His breath hitches while his other hand move downward, tracing her ribs, down her waist, stopping on her thigh and squeezing tenderly. Soft flesh dimpling beneath the force of strong fingers. "I've been lost, " his voice breaks. "Missed you." His hands slide further down to slither under the slit in her dress.

"No feelings right now, Jayce . . . Please, just-"

Two fingers slip inside of her and she gasps. "No feelings," he assures, placing a gentle kiss on her neck.

"Good, good . . . " she moans.

While massaging her breast his thumb finds her clit and tongue her neck, gently nipping and sucking on the crook of her neck. Her body grows to weak to hold itself upright so she puts her weight on her arms. Noticing, he holds her tighter and pushes her weight against the desk. "Already?" He whispers, dragging his teeth along the shell of her ear as his fingers steadily thrusts in and out of her. "You're making it too easy for me."

A breathless chuckle leaves her, crammed between heavy groans. "You work with your hands . . . Mmmh, unfair advantage."

He bites her earlobe, tugging, teasing. "So do you, if I remember correctly." A grin twists her lips as her hand reaches between them and palms his enlarged bulge. He hisses as she begins to stroke it, heat immedietly surfacing as the friction between fabric and skin grows. "Mhhg, that's what I thought," he groans. "Good girl."

He pushes a third finger inside off her, curling them at just the right angle.

"Fuck!" Her free hand curls into a fist, joints having nothing better to do than occupy themselves in anyway they can. He puts more focus on her clit, rubbing dutyful circles into and and finally pushes her over the edge. "Mhh, shit-"

His fingers slow down as she hits her high, gently leading her through it as he supports her weight. "Just breathe, that's right . . . "

Her breathing has become a mixture of moans and wheezes, the pleasure stimulating every nerve in her body. "Did you . . . ?" She asks, suddenly remember her hand on his clothed member.

"No," he whispers and kisses her temple. "Theres time." He tries to turn her around. But fear grips her. "No-" she stops him, gripping the edge of the desk to keep herself in place. Seeing the changes up close would make them real, would make whatever he has come from, real. "I can't look at you . . . not yet." She reaches over her shoulder to cup his jaw, and just like that, their bubble of reminiscence bursts. They arent colleagues anymore and havent been for a long time. Nor is their third party longer there to rationalise with them. A shrap jab strikes her heart. "Give me time, and just," her other hand reaches behind her, grabbing the fabric on his hip to pull him closer, pressing his erection against the curve of her ass. "Like this for now, Jayce. Please . . ."

His head lulls against her back, pushing his forehead firmly into her spine whilst releasing a big, shaky breath. She can feel him bare his teeth, silently working through the consequences of his actions.

He doesn't answer, he only obeys.

It goes silent for a short moment, until the warmth on her hips disappear and the metal clanging of a belt buckle sounds behind her.

Quickly, one hand returns to her thigh to pull her dress over her ass.

"Dont hold back," she says.

There's a pause in his movements. "Are you certain?"

She nods and he wastes no time. Pushing himself against her, his knees spread her legs efficiently, just liked they've practiced many times before. With mo further warning, he sinks into her. One hand crossing over her waist as the other grabs her shoulder, then sets a ruthless pace.

Somehow she knows he needs to get this out of him, the pent of fury and need. But she doesnt complain, he always knew what he was doing.

The sound of slapping fills her office, while the lewd squelching from her previous orgasm further spurs them on. He bends over her, changing his grip. Fingers snaking around her throat as his knee and free hand work together to fish one of her legs onto the desk, hitting her deeper, harder. His thrusts are no longer about speed, but of that one special little spot.

He puts pressure on her throat, almost painstakingly so. But it feels heavenly and she wouldn't have it any other way.

With each rut, his members perfectly fills her. His face is next to hers and he kisses had bites around her neck and ear, making sure she knows how good he makes her fell by grunting and moaning right into her ear. It makes that pulsing in her core worse, and he seems to notice.

"Yeah, you like that?" He groans, kissing her soft skin right behind the ear.

"Mmmhmm," she hums, voice vibrating with the bumping of their bodies. Doing her best to keep silent, afraid that one of her guards suddenly decides to check up on her.

"Let me hear you, use your words," he breathes, flexing the fingers around her throat and biting her shoulder.

"Fuck-" her knuckles and nails take turns in destroying her desk, scratching and denting the expensive wood grain. "I like making you, mmh . . . feel good." She manages, words stuttering between thrusts.

He gently pulls on her ear with his teeth. "Good," he whispers, then releases her throat and places his hand on the back of her neck, pushing her against the desktop.

Slap. His hands comes down on her ass, then gripping the plump flesh hard to lessen some of the stinging. A jolt of electricity shoots through her and her insides clench arouns him.

Jayce whimpers from the sudden, godlike pleasure. "Wanna hear you, honey, don't be shy." His hand comes down again, harder this time.

She squeezes around him, nerves on fire as she feels her second climax building up inside her. She moans as tears run down her face, happy pleasurable tears only Jayce has been able to produce.

"That's it . . ." He slaps her ass a third time, and the wall inside her core crumbles. With a whimper, she comes. "You did so good, lovely, im almost there," he assures her. Tears stream down her face as his thrusts grow irregular, but continues to pleasure her body. "Fuck," she cries, squirming from the drawl iut orgasm. One hand holds her steady at the hip while the other slides up her back, rubbing her tender body until he brushes away stray hair from her profile.

"Hold on a little longer, just breathe, baby," he comforts her, such a stark contrast to the rough thrusts he's been dealing her body. Her fingers are jittery from the overstimulation, they aached to touch him, pull his hair, anything. But she cannot reach, so she presses her palms against the table to keep them occupied.

As he sees her tear streaked face, one last blow lands on her ass and he too, comes. He collapses on top of her, they attempt to regain their strength as their sweaty bodies lie flush against eachother.

After a few moments of breathing heavily together, Jayce wraps an arm around her torso and splays his hand over her rips, pulling her with him as he straightens out.

Taking a deep breath, she closes her eyes and turns around. Hands finding his face, guiding her lips to his.

"Please look at me, my beautiful girl. Look at me," he pleads, murmuring the words against her lips.

She opens her eyes and his breath hitches. Yellow, brown irises meet her won. They're the exact same ones she knew not too long ago. Except . . . Haunted.

His fingers brush along her cheek, jaw and down her throat. She winces at the soft touch and his brows furrow in confusion.

Capturing her chin, he tilts her head back.

"It's fine, I'm fine," she whispers, assuring him as she sees his expression. Pure shock animates them.

"I don't-" his fingers trace the red marks running around her throat and tears begin to form in the corners of his eyes. "Im so sorry." He falls to his knees, hands resting against her chins as he hides his face between them. "I don't know-" he chokes and kisses her legs with remorse. He pecks her delicately, trailing his lips over her knees and up her thighs, hands following behind, tracing the outside of her legs until they reach her waist and encircle her. He hugs her tightly, knees sore against the hard wood. "Im not right," he breathes, head lulling into her lap. She can feel wetness coating her skin, running between her thighs.

She exhales heavily and slides down the desk until the hard wooden floor welcomes her thighs.

They stay like this for a good long while, she's in no rush and neither is he. Over and over again, her fingers comb through his overgrown and unpreened hair while the sensation of his seed drips out of her. Sharp nails gently scratch at the nape of his neck, they trace his bonestructure and play with its halls and valleys. The back of her fingers caress the length of his nose and sharpness of his cheekbone.

All the while Jayce lays wordless, occasionally squeezing her thighs, her hips. Occasionally trailing featherlight touches along her legs, watching with wonder how goosebumps rise and fall.

She chuckles beneath her breath. It's the same expression he used to get when making progress in the lap, just like when they first cracked the hextech runes. "Jayce," she says, attempting to grab his attention.

Crouching beneath her, he looks up from her lap, chin resting on the softness of her flesh. His face glistens and eyes plead. He looks at her with fatigue, wordlessly asking for her forgiveness.

"What happened?" She asks, her voice soft but words demanding. She's not getting dersuled this time, she needs answers.

He shakes his head, reluctantly drawing his lips into a thin line as he breaks away from her gaze.

Her eyebrows twist together. "What have you done?" She asks, anger laces her tone now. But he closes his eyes, the corners of his eyes gleaming again. The fingers burried in his hair curl into a fist and she pulls his head back, forcing him look at her. "What. Have. You. Done?"

His eyes shift between hers, uncertain, unwilling. "He's gone . . . " He begins. "I had to, I had to–the hexcore, it was poisoning him, spreading like a disease." His voice is coarse. "I had to stop him, there was no other choice."

Her eyes grow. Viktor . . . Gone? She could only assume when Jayce suddenly pays her a visit, but never dared believe.

"I never ment to leave you," he says, hand reaching out to grab her waist. "You have to believe me." He rouches the fabric at the waist, white knuckling it out of desperation for an ounce of u derstanding. "Hextech isnt what we thought it was, not anymore. Viktor couldnt see it, he was infecting the undercity, it would've spread to Piltover, the rest of the world if I didn't stop him."

She shakes her head in disbelief. "But he was saving them, freeing them of shimmer."

"No . . . they weren't themselves anymore. I've been away, lost. I've seen–" She waits for him to continue, but he doesn't. "The hexcore mutates them, changes them. I had to stop him. It, the core."

Her eyes drift the Jayce's hammer posted by the door. "Like your hammer?" She studies the now misshapen weapon, once crafted with obsessive precision. Her eyes drift lower along the neck and over its face, blood splatter.

She looks away, closing her eyes to recollect herself. Remembering to strongly the smell of blood Jayce had arrived with.

"Yes," he says. "Like I did." His hand reaches up to loosely cup her face. She notices how the crystal from his old bracelet has fused with his skin. Her fingers run along his arm and slides along the crystal, feeling it, inspecting it. "I didn't chose this," he murmurs. "I didn't chose to leave you . . . I love you." His hand falls back to his side.

She's taken aback. Its not something they've said before, not while still partners, not before all of, this . . . But despite herself, she believes him. They were colleagues for a long time and affection had always kept them together. He wouldn't hurt Viktor without reason.

With hooded eyes and parted lips, he studies her, waiting for her judgement.

"You had to," she nods, seamingly decided.

Relief and disappointment floods his face all at once. He'd expected an 'I love you' back.

She leans in, kissing him for the first time since he disappeared. Finally reunited. "We'll get through this, ok?" her voice is uncertain, what's happened has not been fully processed.

"Ok," he agrees and straightens his back, carefully placing small kisses along her abdomen as he does so, afraid he'll scare her away. "I've missed you so damn much." He levels his head with hers, meeting her gaze head on.

"I've missed you too," she responds. "But I need you now, Jayce. Can you do that for me?" She places a soft kiss on his lips.

"Certainly," he murmurs against them.

She stands, slinding his hand into hers and leads him to the bed. With his back to the bed, she places her hands on his chest and pushes him into sitting at the edge of the bed.

One leg over the other, she straddles him, standing on her knees so he has to look up at her. His she brushes the hair away from his eyes and lowers her lips to ghost over his. Their scared and quivering, needy to be on hers.

His hands slide up her sides and curves around her back, coming to rest in the arch above her ass. Gently, he massages circles into her skin, tickling her intentionaly.

She squirms benea his touch, luring a satisfied grin from him. "You look good like this." Her fingers run through his beard, tracing his new scars. "Dangerous." Reaching down between them and into his pants, she pulls Jayce's member free and lowers herself just enough to tease his tip.

With a hiss, he locks his thumb over her hipbones and wanting to guide her onto him.

She shakes her head, a smirk playing in the corner of her lips. "My turn," she whispers and pull the straps of her dress down, letting it gather at her hips. Jayce's eyes immeidetly fall as his hands slide up her ribs with a specific destination in mind. "Dont touch," she warns. "Now look at me, Jayce." Her chest is inches from his face, but unallowed to look and unable to touch, his eyes appear like that of a wounded stag.

Her nimble fingers work on the buttons of his shirt and quickly slides it off of his shoulders. "Ive missed this," she purs, dragging a finger down his torso, her nail leaving a white scratched up mark behind it. "But this is new," she refers to the chest hair she's never seen before. "I like that, too." Her lips meet his jaw as she leaves kisses all the way down to his collarbone and shoulder. Her continues down his abdomen and below his v-line, then there's a sharp intake of breath as she stokes his member, circling the leaking pre-cum around his tip.

"Devil woman," he groans, but there's a twisted smile to his lips.

She returns it and takes a step back, letting the dress fall completely as if wanting to prove his point and oh, how she revels in the desperation on his face.

Her gaze fixes on his hands, clenching and unclencing in his lap, knuckles white from the strain. She bites her lip. "You look good like this," she repeats. "All, fallen apart . . . " She steps closer, placing herself between his legs. "Bloody and broken."

Never has he taken his eyes off of hers, and as she lowers herself onto his lap once more, she finds his member and lines him up. And finally, she sinks onto his thick inches. Still, he does not touch her. There is only a desperate whimper leaving his lips at the much needed pressure. Obedient, or respcetful? Either way, he deserves his praise. "Good boy. Now, touch me," she whispers and topple them over.

He twitches inside her at the words, but before she can react he's upon her. Fitting one breast into his mouth and the other in his hand, he licks and spits and squeezes. Sucking the entierty of her tender, plush flesh into his mouth.

"Ooh," she braces herself, strings of pleasure and heavy breaths return to them. "You liked that didn't you, pretty boy?" All she gets in response is humming between the lewd, obscene slurping.

Alright, then. Putting a hand on his chest for support, she begins to move, rocking back and forth just watching his expression of pleased torture.

Moving his hands to her hips, lips tear free from her breast for some much needed air, only to replace them upon her lips and kiss her with fervour.

She sits up, getting a better vantage and he follows not long thereafter. Unable to sit by and let her do the work. Leaning back on one hand and wrapping the other around her back, he helps her rut against him while he can't softly thrust up to meet her. "Fuck me- Jayce . . . " She gasps, hardly able to get enough air to moan.

He grins against her lips, sharing their breaths. "You liked that didn't you, pretty girl?" He mocks her.

She laughs breathlessly and digs her nails into his biceps. "Naughty," she murmurs and bites his lip, drawing blood. Again, she feels his member twitch amidst all the rocking between them. Their eyes meet and share a knowing glance. She cocks an eyebrow, he blushes. "That's what I thought," she smirks. It's her win, for now.

Unable to let it slide, Jayce takes the reigns. Flipping them over, he pins her beneath him without missing a single thrust. Amidst the confusion, he interlocks their fingers and pulls her arms above her head, stretching her out and limiting her movement.

She squirms against his restrains, testing the limits but he's rock solid. With her legs around his waist, he thrust perfectly into her and she cant help but roll her hips. She can feel the knot tightening in her core and she furrows her brows with displeasure. Missionary always did her in, he'll win. "Unfair," she moans, throwing her head back as waves of pleasure wash over her with every movement of his hips.

He moves one pair of their locked hands down so ha can stroke her throat with his thumb, placing soft kisses on the damage he caused.

His tenderness alone could cause her to crumble. "Put your back into it at least," she whines, realising she only had her pettiness left. Being beneath him, in his control feels way better than any win she could earn.

A breathless chuckle leaves him. "Yes, ma'am," he grunts, releases her and pulls out before he hooks her legs over his shoulders and thrusts back in. Hands finally free, she cups his face and pulls him in for a kiss concealing the cries bubbling up in her throat. For as it stands, he moves expertly and he's deeper–better than any man ever has been. "Fuck me-"

He smirks. "Tell me I'm good, again . . . " Shes uncertain if this is his ego talking or- "Please, please tell me im good," he whimpers, kissing her inbetween every word.

Without warning her third orgasm washes over her, back arching and nails digging into Jayce's cheeks. "You're so good to me," she sobs. "Such a good boy."

His thrusts falter and then he too, comes. Filling her with his seed, once again.

With shaking limbs he falls to her side, one arm draped over her chest. Both breathing heavily as they regain their senses.

"You win," ge admits and kisses her temple.

Yes she does. "I love you, too," she smiles, heart and teeth achingly sweet.

[thesevi0lentdelights]

YALL PLEASE REPORT THIS USER THIS PERSON OR BOT IS STEALING OTHER PEOPLES CONTENT AND WHEN YOU TRY TO OPEN THE LINKS/SEE MORE IT TAKES YOU TO A RANDOM PAGE, PROBABLY A VIRUS THE USER IS @/rslnews1 PLEASE REPORT

Some of the ppl I saw this account stealing content from/copying (didn’t dig more but there’s a lot): @rougesquadron9 @holskeepsitreal @diorkittys @mankatzu @pileofb1le @cherrybomb107 @sidecast @sapphointhe21stcenturyposts @souls-69 @misswynters @batterywaterpen @vhsleoyfc @n4tek @juckalope @flansiscaart-blog

[fluoneia]

✯✯✯ ARCANE full masterlist

✯ pitfighter!vi

• when pitfighter!vi finds herself stumbling into babette’s place, she finds you in need of a release after a bad loss in the ring. (17+)

➪ continuation (17+)

• vi’s drink at the rink is spiked with something she’d never experienced before. she goes back to the brothel in the hopes of finding you.

��� vi x childhood bestfriend!reader

• after a series of unfortunate events, vi loses everyone. except for you. and she’d do her best not to lose you too.

✯ ekko x cat hybrid!reader

• reader has sensitive ears and refuses to let anyone touch them. but, she let a certain someone touch them out of curiosity.

✯ w.i.p

✯morningperson!reader x jinx.

• mornings with your girlfriend, jinx.

✯ cat!reader x vi

• reader has a unique ability to turn into a cat. after a long day of work, she comes home and wants nothing more then to just cuddle you.

✯ slow dancing

• teaching your girlfriend, jinx, how to slow dance, and it goes horribly well.

✯ piltover princess — vi x oc

• piltover’s beloved princess, belanna volmera, finds herself stumbling across a girl from the lanes. desperate to sway her parents into respecting her wishes, she asks the girl to do something she never thought she’d ask. and then, chaos erupts.

— read more on wattpad! find the story here. more info here.

all rights reserved. requests open!

[unoislazy]

School Time Crush

(College Au)

Vi x Fem!Reader

Basically under her tough and flirty exterior Vi is a dork.

This is my most UNSERIOUS fanfic to date so please for the love of god don’t take this seriously. I just wanted something silly goofy to cope with what is to come😔

Warnings:Cursing.

“So… midterms… crazy right?” Vi said awkwardly as she walked alongside you, her hands in the pocket of her favorite jacket. You smiled with a slight exhale from your nose before glancing at her from the side.

“Very.” You responded as you shifted your bag to a bit of a more comfortable position. You and VI haven't always been friends, you met in a math class that you both had to take and happened to sit together. From then on you’ve gradually hung out more and more outside of classes, and outside of the context of school in general.

“So I was thinking.” She began, tilting her head to the side a bit as she looked at you. She used to have such a tough extortion around you but as you got closer you watched as it practically melted away. Sure she could hold her own in a fight but on the inside she was such a softie, whether she wanted to be or not.

“That’s dangerous.” You joked as you stole another glance at her before looking back to focus on where you were walking.

“We haven’t hung out together in a while.”

“Vi, we’re literally hanging out right now.”

“I know but, I mean really hanging out. Like go somewhere with a purpose of doing something.” She said, her hands remaining in her pockets as she gestured with them.

“Wow you have such a way with words.” You said playfully.

“Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don't.” You teased with a shrug which earned a sarcastic yet lighthearted eye roll from your friend. Before you could continue your conversation a different voice came into the conversation,

“Vi!” You heard someone call out from not too far away. You hung around Vi enough to be able to recognize that voice without a second thought, powder, Vi’s sister. She ran over to you two, her hair in her usual semi-long braids, her clothing covered in paint and dust from other artistic mediums.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt your date with your girlfriend, I just got a call from-“ She spoke as she finally got closer.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Vi quickly interrupted to which Powder replied even faster,

“Yeah whatever, long story short I need you to come with me, right now, let’s go.” She said hastily as she grabbed her sister's hand.

“I’ll bring her back in one piece for you I promise.” She said as she turned to you with a salute. You couldn’t help but laugh at her antics. You watched as Vi was dragged away, with a small wave you then turned to other things.

As Powder dragged Vi away, she turned to her sister.

“You still haven’t asked her out?” She stopped short, placing her hands on her hips as she looked at her older sister.

“No but I was getting to that…” Vi argued slightly, crossing her arms in front of

herself before Powder shook her head.

“Yeah okay.” She huffed, clearly not believing Vi in the slightest.

“I was-“ She cut herself off with a sigh, realizing it wasn’t worth arguing with her sister before continuing, “What did you even drag me away for?” Vi asked, looking down at her sister a bit.

“Right so crazy story, your friend Jayce, he lost his phone so he asked Viktor to ask Ekko to ask me to ask you to help him with his math. He said it was super urgent.”

Vi simply stared at her sister with the blankest of blank stares.

“That’s it?”

“Yup.”

“Seriously?”

“Mhm.”

“Nothing else?”

“Nothing else.”

“Viktor was right there and he decided to ask for me…” She said, almost as if she was disappointed in his critical thinking skills. She sighed, leaning her head back a bit before looking back at her sister. She then quickly looked back to where she had been standing with you just moments before, without this interruption she would have already asked you out, or tried to at least.

“Whatever, fine I’ll help him.” She sighed and begrudgingly made her way to the library where she knew Jayce stayed from open to close when he needed to finish work. He was a very academically bright man, books were his strong suit and so was troubleshooting projects. Anything else though? Not a singular clue in the world. Vi was very much the opposite, she didn’t care much for books unless she had to, and even then they were her favorite. So the two of them together created one averagely intelligent person.

Which is why she was so shocked he asked for her help and not his boyf- his friend Viktors help.

When she finally met up with him, they got right to work, and almost just as soon as they started they quickly realized they weren’t going to actually be able to get any of this done. Vi couldn’t focus, she was more focused on being able to ask you out. Her mind raced with possible ways to go about it and none of them seemed just right. In a momentary lapse of judgment, Vi turned to Jayce and without a single ounce of hesitation asked,

“How do you ask a girl out?”

Silence. Complete silence fell over the two.

“You’re asking… me?” Jayce asked while pointing at himself before looking behind him as if there could’ve been anyone else she was asking.

“Duh Talis. You asked Mel, didnt you? How did you do it?” She asked, completely disregarding the work she had in front of her. Figuring out a solution to her dilemma was much more important.

“Well I wouldn't say I asked her out, it was more of a ‘what are we?’ Kind of a situation.” He explained, avoiding eye contact with Vi the whole time as she exasperatedly put her head down on the table, her hands clasped together in a plea of desperation.

“Any words of wisdom, any at all, just give me something here pretty boy and I’ll ACTUALLY try to help you with your work.” She pleaded, which was a fairly rare sight.

Jayce knew this which made it too tempting to not say no. So he agreed, albeit reluctantly as he knew there was fuck all he could actually help with but god damn it he was going to try.

“Okay, so have you ever heard of the shoulder touch?” He asked, his hands clasped together in front of his mouth as he looked towards Vi like some evil mastermind.

Vi raised an eyebrow at him, immediately regretting her decision to ask him.

“No. No I haven’t.”

It was fairly straight forward, all she had to do was put her hand on your shoulder and say ‘hey’. An immediate guaranteed swoon, as Jayce put it. Vi decided that was enough evidence for her and made her exact plan to try and ask you out.

Luckily it wasn’t long before she got to see you again and she immediately attempted to put the plan into action.

“Remember what he said, gotta go slow, can’t rush or it’ll be awkward.” Vi thought to herself as she walked up to you, trying to look as casual as possible.

“Wait why the fuck am I taking advice from Jayce of all people he can’t even-“

“Hey Vi.” You said which quickly snapped her out of her thoughts. She hadn’t realized she practically made her way right in front of you as you stayed leaning on the wall behind you.

Perfect opportunity.

You looked at her confused as she suddenly took her hand out of her pocket and reached towards your shoulder and leaned forward just the slightest bit. What she didn’t account for was how much farther away you were than she thought, she was so focused on not fucking up that she managed to mess up the simplest part.

Standing close to you.

She quickly stopped herself from falling forward as her hand slammed against the wall behind you, saving herself from a fall as well as managing to repurpose her shoulder touch to something that looked equally purposeful.

“Hey.” She greeted calmly as if she meant to do that the whole time. In your eyes, it went incredibly smoothly except for that split second where she looked terrified that she was falling forward.

It was then that Vi realized.

What does she say now?

Immediately all the confidence she held on her face disappeared as she simply looked at you, then the wall then back at you as if some answers would just appear.

“Are you okay?” You asked, a little concerned by her sudden change in demeanor.

“Would you maybe wanna go on a date with me, at some point, some time.”

“Such a way with words.” You laughed before nodding with a smile.

“Shut up you know what I meant.” She rolled her eyes.

[lieyanro]

They‘re so hard to draw it‘s not even funny

Present Jayce meets past Viktor what can go wrong

Based on my fic, make sure to check it out! https://archiveofourown.org/works/60705238

[pinkthick]

A Nocturne in Melody

Pairing: Viktor x Fem!Reader

Word Count:7976 (about 25 minutes reading time)

Summary: “You were extraordinary,” Viktor said softly, his voice tinged with awe. He pulled back slightly, his eyes filled with the same wonder he’d shown back when you’d played for him in your small, shared apartment for the first time. “I don’t think anyone could look away. You had the entire hall in the palm of your hand.”

Notes: Okay, I’m super nervous about how this turned out, but I really hope you guys enjoy it! Please keep in mind that English isn’t my first language, so if you spot any mistakes, I’m so sorry.😭 But you guys asked for a vampire AU so here it is.🦇

Warnings: Nonconsensual blood drinking, a little bit of violence

Masterlist: A Nocturne in Melody

Part 1

You stood in front of the mirror, hands pressed on either side of the little vanity, fingers just slightly trembling as you gazed at your reflection. The room was filled with a warm, golden glow from the single lamp on the dresser, casting soft light over your face. You were already dressed for the night in your performance outfit—a rich, dark fabric that felt both extravagant and grounding, hugging your form in just the right way. But looking at yourself now, it was hard to recognize the calm, confident person you had always hoped would stand here. Instead, nerves buzzed through you like electricity, racing in your veins and tugging at the edges of your thoughts.

Two hours until the performance.

Just as you took a deep breath, the familiar sound of Viktor’s footsteps creaked across the floorboards behind you. The comforting rhythm pulled a small, grateful smile from you. Viktor had always been able to ease your anxiety, even when you felt like your nerves were getting the best of you. He had been by your side through so much already—through every high and every low, through the days of playing in dimly lit bars where you’d strain to be heard over the clinking of glasses, and now, finally, for this night, the night you’d been dreaming of for so long.

“Are you alright?” His voice was soft, his accent a warm familiarity in a world that could often feel so overwhelming. Viktor moved to stand beside you, his gentle gaze studying you through the reflection. His eyes held that glimmer of quiet encouragement, the same look he’d given you so many times before, from when you’d first arrived in Piltover with him to those early, uncertain days at the Academy, to now.

You let out a shaky breath, glancing over at him in the mirror. “I’m… I don’t know, Vik. It just feels like… I don’t know if I can do this. What if I mess up? What if I don’t sound right? This is my one shot to actually play somewhere… somewhere important. I don’t want to ruin it.”

He reached out, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. His touch was warm, grounding. “You’ve played in more difficult places, with far worse distractions. This? This is just… a room filled with people who came to hear the music. Nothing else.”

You bit your lip, still unsure. “It’s different this time. This isn’t just any performance. This is… this is the performance, Vik. And what if—what if something goes wrong?”

He shook his head, a small smile on his lips. “You’re going to be brilliant. Like you always are. You have no idea how many people are about to be captivated by you.”

You chuckled, trying to dispel the nerves. “And how would you know?”

“Because I know you. And I know that when you play, you become someone… extraordinary.” His words were laced with the quiet confidence that only Viktor seemed to have when it came to you. You wondered how he always seemed to have so much faith in you, more than you often had in yourself. It was one of the things you loved most about him.

Just as you were beginning to feel that comfort settle, Viktor let out a cough—a deep, rattling cough that shook his frame. You turned to him immediately, worry flashing across your face.

“Viktor, are you okay?”

He waved a hand dismissively, his other still clutching at his chest. “Yes, yes—it’s more annoying than anything. Don’t worry.” He tried to smile through it, but you could see the faint shadows under his eyes, the slight way his shoulders drooped from fatigue. Viktor had always been frail, even when you were children, but it seemed that lately, his health had been getting worse.

“Are you sure?” You placed a hand over his, concern clear in your eyes.

“I’m alright,” he insisted softly, his fingers lacing through yours. “Tonight is about you, not me. Don’t worry about this. You should be focusing on… this big night of yours.” He gave you a reassuring squeeze, but you knew there was a truth to his weariness, one he rarely admitted aloud.

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, hands entwined, the weight of both your worries lingering in the air. You took a deep breath, letting his presence soothe you, even though you were still worried about him.

He could see the concern in your gaze, and he tilted his head, lips pulling into a gentle smile. “I told you,” he murmured, “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right there, watching you.”

You laughed softly. “You better. It would feel strange to be up there without knowing you’re out in the audience, ready to give me that silly thumbs-up you do.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for anything,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “And don’t think I’ll let you worry about me instead of enjoying yourself tonight.”

“But I always worry about you, Vik. You’re—well, you’re my everything.” The words slipped out before you could catch them, and you felt a faint blush warm your cheeks.

He raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Everything?”

You laughed, swatting at his arm. “Don’t get all smug. You know exactly what I mean.”

“Oh, I do. And I’ll be reminding you of it every chance I get,” he teased, the corner of his mouth quirking into that familiar grin of his.

Rolling your eyes, you pulled away and tried to focus back on your reflection, adjusting your collar and smoothing out invisible wrinkles in your clothes. Viktor leaned against the doorframe, watching you quietly, the fondness in his gaze unmistakable.

“You know,” he said, after a moment of watching you fuss with your outfit, “I’ve always admired that about you. No matter how nervous you get, you never let it stop you. You go out there and do it anyway. It’s… inspiring.”

You turned to face him, struck by the sincerity in his voice. “Viktor…”

He smiled, that soft, quiet smile he wore just for you. “I mean it. You’re going to make an impact tonight, not just because of your music, but because of who you are. The world needs to hear what you have to offer. And tonight is just the beginning.”

Feeling a swell of emotion, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace. He held you close, his head resting above yours, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. This moment felt perfect, even with all your nerves, even with the worry gnawing at the back of your mind about Viktor’s health.

Finally, you pulled back, taking a deep breath. “Alright, okay. I think… I think I’m ready. At least, as ready as I’ll ever be.”

Viktor nodded, eyes twinkling with a mixture of pride and encouragement. “That’s my girl.”

Just as you were about to speak, he coughed again, the sound harsh and jarring in the quiet room. You reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder, your concern flaring up once more.

“Viktor, maybe you shouldn’t come tonight. I mean, I would love to have you there, but if you’re not feeling well…”

He shook his head firmly. “Absolutely not. There’s no way I’d miss this.” His voice was resolute, though you could hear the strain in it. He gave you a reassuring smile, even though you could see the exhaustion tugging at the edges of his expression.

After a long pause, he took your hand in his, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “Look… I know things have been hard. With my health, with… everything.” He hesitated, his gaze dropping for a moment. “But being with you, seeing you chase your dreams… it gives me hope. And tonight, you’re going to show the world who you really are. You’re going to shine brighter than anyone else in that room.”

Your heart tightened at his words, a mixture of love and sadness flooding through you. You knew he was fighting his own battles, battles he didn’t always share with you, but he was here, right beside you, lifting you up when you needed it most.

“Thank you, Viktor. For… for everything.” You whispered, your voice filled with emotion.

He gave a small nod, his eyes meeting yours with that unwavering warmth. “Anytime.”

Taking a final deep breath, you let his words ground you. You knew that no matter what happened tonight, Viktor would be there, your constant, your strength.

—

The energy backstage hummed with tension and excitement, performers and crew members rushing around in various states of preparation. You could feel the nervous buzz in your stomach intensify as the seconds ticked down, the final stretch before you would take the stage and pour yourself into the violin like never before.

You kept close to your crew, some of whom you’d been working with for months now, building camaraderie and trust through rehearsals, late nights, and shared dreams. Your ensemble would be joining you after the opening, but there was one critical difference tonight—a solo piece right in the beginning that would be yours alone, something you’d been working toward for as long as you could remember. And now, it was happening.

Trying to steady your breathing, you focused on the music, visualizing each note, each crescendo, letting it ground you. But even with that, the nerves remained, the weight of the night pressing down harder than ever.

Just then, one of your ensemble members, Claire, stepped beside you. She was tuning her violin, and the sound mingled with the other instruments tuning in the background. You’d never been particularly close with her; she was more reserved, almost aloof, often keeping to herself during practices. But she was talented—there was no denying that—and you’d always respected her for her skill.

“Are you doing okay, darling?”

Trying to make small talk to ease the tension, you murmured, “I’m just so nervous—”

“Why?” Claire’s tone was sharp, almost biting, and you looked up, surprised. “Because you know you don’t deserve it?”

You blinked, taken aback by her sudden hostility. “Excuse me?”

She didn’t bother to look at you as she continued tuning her instrument, her fingers moving with practiced ease. “Apparently, it helps to have a boyfriend who’s friends with one of the council’s members.” Her voice was laced with disdain, her words dripping with accusation.

You could feel your heart drop, a mixture of anger and hurt bubbling up in response. “What are you trying to say, Claire?”

She shrugged, casting a sidelong glance your way, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Just that some of us have been working our entire lives for a shot like this. And it’s a little convenient that you, of all people, suddenly get handed a solo spot. Especially when your… boyfriend has connections.” She said the word “boyfriend” like it left a sour taste in her mouth.

You felt your cheeks flush, both from embarrassment and frustration. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve worked just as hard as anyone here.”

“Maybe.” Claire gave a slight, dismissive tilt of her head. “But it’s just a little too easy, isn’t it? For you to show up here, playing in bars, and suddenly you’re front and center with a solo spot that should have gone to someone who’s actually earned it.”

You clenched your jaw, fighting to keep your voice steady. “I have earned it, Claire. Every step of the way. I practiced just as hard as you, worked just as long, and went through every audition like everyone else.”

Claire laughed softly, a sound that felt more like a slap in the face than anything else. “Keep telling yourself that. But you and I both know that without Viktor’s influence, you’d still be playing for drunks in some tavern on the outskirts.”

Anger flared in your chest, but more than that, her words cut deep. You had worked hard—endlessly, tirelessly, pushing yourself past your limits to reach this point. And yes, Viktor had been by your side, supporting you, encouraging you, but never once had he interfered in your career. He believed in you and wanted you to succeed, but he would never use his influence to sway things in your favor. And to hear Claire throw all that back in your face like this felt like a betrayal.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said, your voice firm, though your hands were still trembling. “This solo isn’t something Viktor handed to me. I got it because I deserved it.”

Claire finally looked at you fully, her eyes cold and challenging. “Deserved it? Really? That’s interesting, because a lot of us seem to think otherwise.” She leaned in, voice lowering to a hiss. “Enjoy the spotlight while you can, because people will see through you eventually.”

You bit your lip, resisting the urge to fire back. A scene backstage was the last thing you needed, especially tonight, of all nights. Instead, you forced yourself to turn away, ignoring the way Claire’s words lingered, gnawing at your thoughts.

You lifted your violin case onto a table and opened it, drawing out the familiar weight of the instrument. Just holding it in your hands eased some of the tension, grounding you. You adjusted the bow, glancing toward the stage door, where you’d soon step out and face the audience, every eye on you, waiting for the first note.

A soft voice beside you made you look up. It was one of the cellists, a quiet, kind man named Alain. He smiled gently, his gaze sympathetic. “Don’t let her get to you,” he murmured. “Anyone with any sense can see how talented you are. You’ve earned this.”

You gave him a grateful smile, warmth blooming in your chest. “Thanks, Alain. That… that means a lot.”

He nodded, patting your shoulder. “Just remember—you’ve got more people cheering for you than against you.”

The stage director waved you over, signaling that it was almost time. Alain gave you an encouraging nod before stepping back to let you focus. You took one last deep breath, then moved toward the stage door, positioning yourself for your entrance. The murmurs of the audience on the other side seemed to fade as you centered yourself, mentally running through the opening notes of your solo.

With a final look at the dim backstage area, you squared your shoulders, holding your violin and bow steady. You felt the soft pressure of the wood against your collarbone, grounding you, connecting you to the music you were about to play.

The lights dimmed, and a hush fell over the crowd. The world narrowed down to the single spotlight on the stage, waiting for you to step into it. You closed your eyes briefly, letting Viktor’s words settle in your mind one last time.

You’re going to shine.

With a final, calming breath, you stepped onto the stage, letting the applause wash over you as you took your position. You could barely make out the faces in the crowd, but you knew Viktor was there somewhere, watching you with that quiet pride. And for a moment, all the nerves melted away, replaced by the steady, familiar rhythm of your heartbeat.

You raised your bow, poised for the first note.

As your bow touched the strings, the first note pierced the silence, resonating through the hall. It felt like time slowed, the world narrowing down to the sound of your violin and the rhythm of your breath. The nerves, the doubts, the sting of Claire’s words—they all melted away, replaced by the sheer exhilaration of the music. Each note carried years of practice, of late nights, and of dreams you’d clung to when everything seemed too far away. This was everything you had worked for, and now it was happening.

As the solo flowed from your fingers, you opened your eyes for a fleeting moment and caught a glimpse of the audience. Row after row was filled, people rapt with attention. And there, nestled in the fourth row, was Viktor. His gaze was focused entirely on you, his expression proud and calm. For that brief moment, your eyes met, and you could feel his silent encouragement. It was as if he was right there beside you, grounding you, his unwavering support wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

That one look from Viktor renewed your confidence, and you poured yourself even more deeply into the music. The notes filled the hall, flowing effortlessly as you surrendered to the melody. The violin felt like an extension of yourself, every stroke of the bow an expression of everything you wanted to say but never could. By the time the orchestra joined in, the sound swelled around you, lifting the piece to new heights. You let yourself get lost in the harmony, the layers of instruments weaving together into a tapestry of sound. It was beautiful—something beyond what words could capture.

As the last note lingered, the hall fell silent, a charged, expectant pause hanging in the air before the applause erupted, thunderous and relentless. You lowered your violin, heart racing, the echoes of the performance still buzzing through you. You took a bow, your heart swelling at the standing ovation that met you. For a moment, you felt like you could hardly breathe, overcome by the sheer intensity of it all.

When you finally left the stage, the backstage was a mix of bustling musicians and congratulatory voices. You stood there, letting it all sink in, a quiet smile on your face as the reality of what had just happened settled over you. It was a strange, surreal feeling—one part triumph, one part relief. You closed your eyes for a moment, savoring it, before a familiar voice called out.

“Hey, over here!”

Opening your eyes, you saw Viktor waving you over, his face lit with a grin. Jayce stood beside him, clapping with a mischievous grin as if to add a little extra to the applause you’d just left behind on stage.

You made your way over, the excitement still bubbling in you as Viktor pulled you into a warm hug, his embrace gentle yet grounding. You could feel the pride radiating from him, and it filled you with a sense of warmth and fulfillment that only he could bring.

“You were extraordinary,” Viktor said softly, his voice tinged with awe. He pulled back slightly, his eyes filled with the same wonder he’d shown back when you’d played for him in your small, shared apartment for the first time. “I don’t think anyone could look away. You had the entire hall in the palm of your hand.”

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, a laugh escaping you as you shook your head. “I… thank you. But honestly, it was as much your belief in me as anything else.”

Jayce laughed, clapping you on the back with a wide grin. “Not just belief. Pure talent. I haven’t seen a performance like that in ages. Viktor wasn’t exaggerating when he told me how good you were.”

“Jayce, please, you’re embarrassing me,” Viktor teased, though his eyes sparkled with pride. He glanced at you, his expression softening. “It was… beyond words. You were more than I ever dreamed you could be up there.”

You reached for Viktor’s hand, giving it a small squeeze. “Thank you, Vik. For everything. I don’t think I could have gotten here without you.”

He shook his head, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You’ve always had this inside you. I just… helped you find a place to show it to the world.”

Just as you were about to respond, Jayce’s gaze wandered back toward the crowd exiting the theater, and his expression shifted to something a bit more serious. He leaned in, lowering his voice. “You know, you really should consider sharing your music more often. Maybe a few more performances? I think I might know some people who’d love to see you play again.”

You glanced at Viktor, who gave a small, encouraging nod. The idea of doing this more often, of finding more places to share your music, excited you. It was something you’d dreamed of, and now, it seemed more possible than ever.

“I… I’d love that,” you replied, smiling at Jayce. “Thank you.”

Jayce grinned, giving Viktor a nudge. “See, I told you she’d be a hit.”

Viktor laughed softly, his arm slipping around your shoulders as he turned back to you. “I think I already knew that. But I don’t mind hearing it again.”

You laughed with him, feeling a warmth settle over you as Viktor held you close, his gaze never leaving yours. The moment felt perfect, and you could feel the weight of everything you’d overcome to reach this point slipping away, replaced by a quiet, steady joy.

But just as you were beginning to feel fully at ease, a piercing scream split through the air, cutting through the celebratory buzz of the crowd. The sound was sharp, filled with terror, and it silenced the laughter and murmured conversations around you. Everyone froze, their eyes wide as they looked toward the source of the scream.

The smile faded from Viktor’s face, and he looked at you, a flicker of worry in his gaze. Jayce’s expression hardened, his body tense as he scanned the room, eyes narrowing.

Another scream followed, closer this time, echoing through the hallway leading to the entrance of the theater.

The scream echoed through the air, sharp and bone-chilling, freezing everyone in place. For a split second, everything felt suspended. Then the doors burst open, and chaos erupted.

In the dim lighting near the entrance, you caught a flash of something terrifying—a figure moving too fast for human eyes to follow, leaving a trail of bodies in its wake. People screamed, scrambling for any exit they could reach, some tripping over one another in the frenzy to escape. It was like watching a nightmare unfold in real time. You recognized it immediately: a rogue vampire, one of the few who’d abandoned the code that kept them integrated with human society, choosing violence and terror instead.

Viktor tightened his hold on you, his face a mix of shock and fear. He met your gaze, his eyes wide, but he managed to keep his voice steady. "Stay with me. We'll find a way out."

The crowd surged around you, pushing and pulling in every direction as the vampire tore through the panicked masses, relishing the fear and chaos it created. You clutched Viktor's arm, trying to keep your balance, but you could feel the force of the crowd pulling you both apart.

Viktor's grip on his cane tightened as he tried to keep up, his breathing ragged from the effort. But the throng of panicking people made every step more difficult, and you could see the strain in his face.

The surge of the crowd made it impossible to stay close, and you tried to hold onto his hand but it was useless. The crowd pushed you forward, separating you from Viktor as you were swept toward the exit. "Just go!" Viktor shouted, looking back at you with desperation. "I—I'll be fine! Just get out of here!" You turned back, searching the crowd for any glimpse of him, but it was impossible to see through the sea of bodies.

You pushed against the flow, desperately trying to get back to him, but the surge was too strong, and the fear in people’s faces reminded you of the danger closing in behind you. Then, just as you thought about trying to break through the throng again, you spotted a child—no more than six or seven—frozen in terror, her wide eyes fixed on the chaos around her. She stood alone, trembling, her face streaked with tears as she looked helplessly toward the exits that were now jammed with desperate people.

You could feel the panic gnawing at you, the need to find Viktor tugging at your heart, but you couldn’t leave the little girl alone in the midst of this horror. Her small frame was at risk of being trampled by the crowd, her frightened eyes darting from one screaming adult to another, unable to comprehend the danger around her.

Taking a deep breath, you fought against the tide of people, making your way toward the girl. "Hey!" you called, trying to get her attention. She turned, her tear-streaked face lighting up with a glimmer of hope as she saw you approaching.

You knelt down, forcing a calm smile despite the chaos around you. "It’s okay, sweetheart," you said softly, reaching out to her. "I’m going to get you out of here, all right? Can you take my hand?"

The girl nodded, her tiny hand slipping into yours, her grip surprisingly tight as she clung to you like a lifeline. You could feel her small fingers trembling, and you gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Stay close to me, and don’t let go," you told her, giving her a quick smile. "We’ll be safe soon. Just keep your eyes on me."

Together, you tried to navigate through the chaos, weaving between panicked people and dodging those who shoved their way to the exits. You cast a quick glance back, hoping for a glimpse of Viktor, but all you saw was the sea of terrified faces, all rushing toward any available way out.

Behind you, the rogue vampire continued its rampage, a blur of dark movement in the corner of your vision. You could hear the inhuman snarls and the horrific sounds of screams being cut short, sending fresh waves of panic through the crowd. You knew you had to keep moving, but part of you wanted nothing more than to find Viktor and get him to safety. However, the little girl’s hand in yours kept you grounded, her frightened gaze fixed on you as if you were her only anchor in the storm of chaos.

You guided her through the crowd, but the further you went, the harder it became to move forward. People were frantic, shoving past you in every direction, and each step felt like a battle to keep your balance. At one point, you stumbled, nearly losing your grip on the girl’s hand, but she clung to you with surprising strength.

A sudden crash echoed from behind, and you glanced back just in time to see a row of seats go flying, thrown aside like toys by the vampire’s inhuman strength. The creature’s eyes gleamed with a sick delight as it scanned the crowd, seeking out anyone unfortunate enough to cross its path. You swallowed hard, realizing that you and the girl were still too close to the center of the chaos. If you didn’t find an exit soon, there was a very real chance you wouldn’t make it out.

You spotted a small side door, partially hidden behind a curtain, and steered the girl toward it. She looked up at you, her wide eyes filled with a mix of fear and hope as she followed your lead. But just as you reached the door, another wave of panicked people crashed into you, separating you from the child. You stumbled, reaching out to grab her, but she was swept a few feet away, lost in the chaos.

Heart pounding, you fought against the crowd, calling out to her. "Wait! Don’t move! I’m coming to get you!"

The girl looked back at you, her face pale with fear, but she nodded, ducking down behind a row of seats in a desperate attempt to stay hidden. You took a shaky breath, determination surging within you as you pushed your way forward, dodging people and debris as you made your way toward her hiding spot.

As you drew closer, you saw her peeking out from behind the seats, her small form huddled down as if trying to make herself invisible. Her wide, fearful eyes met yours, and she gave a tiny, trembling nod, as if pleading with you to come and take her to safety.

—

The screams and pounding footsteps made it almost impossible to focus, but Viktor kept pushing forward. Each step was agony without his cane, but he couldn’t stop, not when he knew you were somewhere out there. The crowd jostled him from every side, and he had to brace himself against a wall, clutching at his leg to keep himself upright. His cane had been knocked from his grasp in the chaos, and he felt the sting of its absence, each step sending a sharp pain up his leg.

He looked around, desperation clawing at him as he scanned the sea of faces, trying to find you. All he could think of was getting to you, making sure you were safe. His heart hammered in his chest, fear twisting his insides as he forced himself forward, determined to reach you.

Then, above the chaotic din, there was a sudden, deafening crash. Viktor’s heart skipped a beat as he turned, his eyes widening in horror. A massive statue had toppled over, smashing into the crowd. People screamed, some scrambling away, others lying motionless beneath the heavy stone. Viktor’s breath caught as he recognized a familiar figure trapped beneath the rubble. It was you.

You were pinned beneath the statue, one of your legs crushed under the weight. Your face was pale, your breaths shallow as you struggled to keep your composure despite the agony written across your features. Beside you was the little girl, tears streaming down her face as she tried, in vain, to push at the stone.

Viktor’s heart shattered at the sight. He limped forward, shoving through the crowd with all the strength he could muster, ignoring the pain that throbbed with each step. He had to reach you. Nothing else mattered.

“Oh my—” Viktor gasped as he finally reached your side, kneeling down beside you, his hands hovering over the statue as if willing it to move by sheer force of will. His face was etched with worry, his brow furrowed as he took in the sight of your crushed leg, the blood pooling around you. “No, no, this—”

You managed a weak smile, trying to keep him calm despite the agony you were in. “Viktor, you can’t lift it. Please… take the little girl and go.”

Viktor’s eyes met yours, a mixture of panic and stubborn resolve in his gaze. “I can’t leave you. Not like this.”

“Vik…” you said, your voice barely a whisper as the pain threatened to consume you. “The enforcers will be here. They’ll help me. But the girl… she needs you. Please, get her to safety.”

He shook his head, reaching out to take your hand, his grip trembling. “I can’t just leave you here. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

You could feel yourself getting weaker, the edges of your vision blurring as the blood loss took its toll. But you squeezed his hand, trying to reassure him even as your strength faded. “I’ll be fine, I promise. Just… go.”

Viktor’s jaw clenched, his eyes shining with tears as he looked between you and the terrified little girl by your side. He knew he had to do something, but leaving you felt like an impossibility. His heart was breaking at the thought, and he could see the desperation in your eyes, urging him to save the child.

The girl looked up at Viktor, her small hand clutching his sleeve as she tried to hold back her tears. “Please… don’t leave her,” she whispered, her voice quivering with fear.

Just then, a dark figure appeared, closing in on Viktor from behind—the rogue vampire, its eyes gleaming with malicious glee as it prowled closer, reveling in the despair and fear surrounding it. In an instant, you realized what was about to happen.

“Viktor!” you shouted, panic lacing your voice. “Behind you!”

Before Viktor could react, the vampire lunged forward, knocking him to the ground with brutal force. His body hit the stone floor with a harsh thud, and a flash of agony contorted his features as his hand hit the ground, fingers splaying out as he tried to steady himself. But before he could even attempt to push himself up, the vampire’s claws sank into his shoulders, pinning him in place.

“No!” The word tore from your throat in a ragged gasp, but it was too late, and your voice was barely a whisper over the noise around you. You tried to sit up, to reach him, but pain seared through your leg, stealing the strength from your body. You watched helplessly as the vampire leaned down, its eyes gleaming with sadistic glee.

With a swift, calculated movement, the vampire sank its fangs into his neck. Viktor’s mouth opened in a scream, his body tensing as pain wracked through him. His eyes were wide, horrified, as he realized the horror unfolding around him. He thought he’d be killed, that the vampire would drain his blood and leave him here, another victim of this nightmare.

But then the vampire’s gaze shifted, its expression shifting into something far darker, more sinister. It straightened, its fangs stained with Viktor’s blood, and it lifted its wrist to its mouth, biting into its own flesh until dark, thick blood welled up, dripping from the wound. His eyes widened in horror as he realized what was about to happen, the cruel intention clear in the vampire’s eyes.

“No… no,” he whispered, his voice barely audible as he struggled against the vampire’s hold, his body weak and trembling from the blood loss. But the vampire only sneered, lowering its bleeding wrist toward Viktor’s mouth, the blood dripping onto his lips, staining them a deep, unnatural red.

Viktor clamped his mouth shut, desperately trying to resist, but the scent of the vampire’s blood was overwhelming, intoxicating. It was like a dark whisper, an ancient hunger clawing its way into his mind, demanding he surrender, that he let go of his humanity. His stomach twisted with revulsion, but the scent of the blood was everywhere, filling his senses, drowning him.

“Drink,” the vampire hissed, its voice a dark, hypnotic command. “You can’t resist it forever, human.”

Viktor clenched his jaw, trying to turn away, but the blood dripped past his lips, pooling on his tongue, and the taste… it was unlike anything he’d ever known. It was rich, powerful, and it filled him with a hunger so fierce it was like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. His resistance crumbled as the need, the burning desire for more, overtook him.

He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to become a monster, to lose himself to the darkness, but he was losing control, his mind slipping as the hunger grew, overpowering every thought, every reason. His body moved of its own accord, his teeth sinking into the vampire’s wrist as if he were nothing more than a starving animal.

The taste of the blood was electric, searing through him like fire, and he drank deeply, his mind consumed by a primal need he couldn’t understand, let alone fight. Part of him screamed, begging him to stop, but the hunger was too powerful, too consuming. He wanted to stop, but his body refused to listen, driven by a need that was no longer human.

The vampire laughed, watching with satisfaction as Viktor gave in, as the last shred of resistance faded from his eyes, replaced by a desperate, feral hunger. Viktor’s hands gripped the vampire’s arm, pulling it closer as he drank, his body trembling as the blood filled him with an unnatural strength, a power that felt foreign and wrong, but irresistible.

The world around him faded, his thoughts growing hazy as the blood coursed through him, reshaping him, changing him. He felt his humanity slipping away, piece by piece, swallowed by the darkness that consumed him. And yet, he couldn’t stop, couldn’t pull away, even as he felt the horror of what he was becoming.

You watched in horror, your vision blurring as you tried to hold on, your heart breaking as you saw the man you loved losing himself to the darkness. But you were too weak, too close to the edge, and your body was betraying you. The world around you grew dim, the sounds fading to a distant echo as you slipped into unconsciousness, the last thing you saw being Viktor, lost in the vampire’s hold, his humanity slipping away with each desperate gulp of blood.

Viktor drank until he could no longer think, until he was nothing but hunger and need, his mind a twisted, broken version of itself. Then, finally, the vampire pulled its wrist away, a satisfied smirk on its face as it watched Viktor collapse to the ground, his body shivering as the last drops of blood settled within him.

Viktor’s vision was spinning, the world around him a haze of colors and shadows. He could feel the blood in his veins, burning like fire, filling him with a strength he hadn’t known, a power that felt both thrilling and terrifying. He tried to move, to get up, but his body refused to obey, too overwhelmed by the transformation raging within him.

As he lay there, the vampire leaned over him, its cold fingers tracing along his jaw with a sickeningly affectionate touch. “There now,” it murmured, almost lovingly. “You’re one of us now. You’ll learn to love it in time.”

But before it could say more, there was a sudden burst of light, a blinding flash that filled the room, and the vampire hissed, recoiling as the enforcers burst through the doors, weapons raised. Their guns were loaded with hex crystals that glowed with a fierce, deadly energy.

The vampire turned, snarling, its eyes blazing with fury as it prepared to attack. But the enforcers were faster, their weapons firing in unison, beams of energy slicing through the air. The vampire let out a piercing scream as the bullets struck its body, tearing through its flesh, burning with a light that was anathema to its dark nature.

It tried to fight, lashing out with desperate, wild swings, but the enforcers pressed forward, their weapons relentless, each shot weakening the creature until it could barely stand. Finally, with one last, agonized scream, the vampire fell, its body disintegrating into ashes.

Viktor lay there, gasping, his body still trembling as he struggled to process what had happened. The enforcers moved quickly, securing the area, but he barely noticed them, his mind a whirlwind of confusion and fear. He could feel the changes within him, the lingering hunger, the strange, unnatural strength that pulsed through his veins.

And as he lay there, he looked at you and the little girl next to you.

—

Bright light pierced the darkness as you drifted back to consciousness. It was soft, filtered through closed curtains, but it was enough to make you squint. You could feel the sterile coolness of hospital sheets against your skin and hear the distant hum of machinery nearby. The dull ache in your leg quickly sharpened into an intense throb, pulsing in time with your heartbeat. You sucked in a breath, hissing through clenched teeth as pain clawed up from the injured limb.

“Easy now.” A familiar voice cut through the fog in your mind. Blinking against the light, you focused on the figure standing beside the bed—Jayce, looking tired and somewhat rumpled, as though he hadn’t slept well for days. Beside him was a doctor with a clipboard, whose serious gaze shifted between you and your chart.

“You’re… in the hospital,” Jayce explained, his voice softer than usual. “You’ve been here for a while, actually.”

You looked down, swallowing hard as your gaze settled on the cast covering most of your leg. The ache wasn’t going away anytime soon; it was sharp, almost burning, a reminder of the statue that had pinned you down in that nightmare. Trying to shift even a little was unbearable, so you stayed as still as possible, biting back the pain that flared with every tiny movement.

The doctor adjusted his glasses, looking at you with a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “It’s a miracle we even managed to… save it,” he said carefully. “We had to perform multiple surgeries to stabilize the bones and repair the damage. But I have to be honest: your leg won’t fully heal. The injury was extensive.”

You forced yourself to take a steadying breath, though the doctor’s words hung heavily in the air. You’d known, on some level, that things were bad—pain like this didn’t come from a minor injury. But hearing the confirmation, realizing that your leg would never be the same, was still a hard truth to swallow.

“How long?” you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

The doctor exchanged a quick glance with Jayce before replying. “You’ve been unconscious for about a week,” he said gently. “The trauma, combined with blood loss… it was touch and go for a while. But you’re here, and that’s what matters.”

You nodded numbly, too tired to process all of it at once. Instead, your mind latched onto the one thing that hadn’t left your thoughts since you’d woken up—the absence of a familiar voice, one you’d thought would be here with you.

“What happened to Viktor?” you asked, dread curling around each word as you forced yourself to look up at Jayce, searching his face for any hint of reassurance. “Is he… Is he all right?”

Jayce’s expression tightened, a flicker of something troubled passing over his face before he sighed, looking away as though gathering his thoughts. “Viktor’s… alive,” he said finally, his tone cautious. “But the situation is complicated.”

“What do you mean?” The pulse of worry surged into full-fledged fear, tightening your throat as you fought to keep your voice steady. “Where is he?”

Jayce hesitated before answering, his shoulders slumping slightly. “You know the protocols,” he said reluctantly. “After the attack, Viktor was transferred to a specialized facility—a containment unit. He’s being held there until they can determine… well, if he’ll be safe around humans.”

The words hit you like a blow, the sterile reality of it settling uncomfortably around you. A containment unit. As if Viktor were some kind of dangerous creature rather than the man you loved, the man who had been caught in the crossfire of that monstrous attack just as much as you had.

“But Viktor isn’t a threat,” you said, barely managing to keep your voice steady. “He didn’t ask for this. It was… forced on him.”

“I know,” Jayce replied, and there was genuine sympathy in his voice. “But the council, the enforcers—they have strict regulations. Anyone who’s been… transformed… has to be evaluated thoroughly to make sure they’re not a danger to society.”

You swallowed hard, the ache in your chest growing as Jayce’s words sank in. “So he’s… he’s being kept in isolation?”

Jayce nodded, his gaze softening. “He’s been asking about you nonstop, every time I visit him. He’s worried—but he’s making progress.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as the weight of everything that had happened settled heavily on your shoulders. The image of Viktor, alone and isolated, torn between his humanity and the dark hunger forced upon him… it was more than you could bear. You wanted to be there with him, to reassure him, to tell him that none of this was his fault. But you were trapped here, bound by the limits of your own body and the damage that had been done.

“How long do they plan to keep him there?” you asked, desperation leaking into your voice.

Jayce rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze fixed on the floor. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “It depends on the evaluations, how well he’s able to control himself. If there’s any risk of… him losing control, they’ll keep him longer.”

The thought was unbearable, but you forced yourself to press on, to get as much information as you could. “And if he passes? What then?”

Jayce met your gaze, his expression somber. “Then he’ll be allowed supervised release, possibly… eventually, back to his normal life. But they’re strict about monitoring anyone with vampiric tendencies. Especially ones that had been transformed. He’ll be under close watch, no matter what.”

You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath as you absorbed the reality of the situation. The council’s protocols were harsh, unyielding, and you could only imagine the toll they would take on Viktor, who had always prided himself on his control, his intellect. Now, he was facing something he couldn’t simply reason his way out of—a primal force inside him that threatened to consume everything he was.

“There was a little girl—is she alright?” you asked, struggling to keep your voice steady.

Jayce’s hand rested on the side of your bed, his grip tightening slightly as he met your gaze. “Yes, she’s okay. The enforcers responded quickly to the attack, and they managed to take down the rogue vampire, but… by the time they got to you, you’d lost a lot of blood. They had to act fast to save your leg and… well, to keep you here.”

A small, humorless laugh escaped you as you looked down at your leg encased in plaster. “Great. A constant reminder of all of this—but at least she’s okay.” You shook your head, bitterness tainting the edges of your words. The thought of Viktor, suffering alone in that containment facility, while you were here, struggling with your own pain and limitations, was almost too much to bear.

Jayce’s gaze softened as he reached out, gently squeezing your hand. “I know it’s hard, but you’re not alone in this. Viktor… he cares about you. I’ve seen it every time I visit. He doesn’t care about the pain or the changes; he only cares about knowing you’re safe.”

Tears slipped from the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as you clutched Jayce’s hand tightly. “He shouldn’t be in there. None of this should’ve happened,” you whispered, your voice breaking as the weight of the past week crashed over you.

Jayce gave your hand another reassuring squeeze, his expression pained. “You’re right. It’s unfair. But the best we can do now is help him get through it.”

The thought of Viktor, holding on to his humanity even in the face of such darkness, filled you with a fierce determination. You’d already come this far, survived this nightmare, and you weren’t going to let it end here. Somehow, you’d find a way to get him out, to bring him back. You’d be there for him, just as he’d been there for you all this time.

The doctor, who had been quietly observing, spoke up, his voice calm but firm. “For now, you need rest and recovery. The worst is behind you, but your body needs time to heal. Pushing yourself too soon will only worsen things.”

You nodded, though your mind was already racing, searching for any way to reach Viktor, to let him know you were there for him even if you couldn’t be by his side.

As the doctor left, Jayce lingered by your bedside, his expression thoughtful. “Once you’re well enough… I’ll see what I can do to get you in to see him,” he said quietly. “But for now… focus on healing. He’d want that.”

The promise in his words gave you a small glimmer of hope, a lifeline in the darkness that had consumed both you and Viktor. You squeezed Jayce’s hand in silent gratitude, the two of you sharing a quiet, unspoken understanding.

A/N: Hope you guys liked it. 🙏🏻 This will have around 4 parts and the 4th one will be smut. 😉

@thehistoriangirl

[mistresscitrusslice]

“Jayvik friends to lovers” “not actually unrequited love” “Jayvik seven year slow burn” No.

Jayvik irresponsible whirlwind romance that moves too fast for either of them to make sound decisions. Jayce is a hopeless romantic and Viktor never thought about what he looked for in love so he uses Jayce as a blueprint. Too-good to be true passion, love at first meeting, promises of forever on the first date, first kiss before they’ve known each other for twenty-four hours. Very likely to crash and burn, but they don’t know that and it’ll take at least seven years for the fire to consume them.

[phantomstatistician]

Fandom: Arcane

Character: Viktor

Sample Size: 4,373 stories

Source: AO3

Note: In general, I exclude OCs and x Reader fics, but I felt that that would be misleading for this chart due to the high proportion of these fics.

[grugruel]

Where is all the off-the-handle Jayce fics? Guys???

Point me in the right direction here . . . 😔

I NEED this man to ruin me like hextech ruined him.

Edit: I've finally finished the fic, you can find it here🙂‍↕️

[theprettyarachnid]

bathing with viktor/jayce

a/n: my uterus feels like it’s going through a laffy taffy machine and i want this surgery done as soon as possible

warnings: semi-nsfw

viktor

🕷️ very reluctant to shower with you at first

🕷️ viktor has to sit down while showering because of his leg so he has one of those shower chairs

🕷️ same viktor

🕷️ when he truly became comfortable in the relationship, he was willing to shower with you

🕷️ a part of him was embarrassed and a little ashamed when you saw it because he tries so hard to make his limp unnoticeable despite his cane

🕷️ this is because viktor isn’t in the undercity anymore, he’s in piltover where image means everything

🕷️ you didn’t take notice of it, as if you didn’t care, which you didn’t

🕷️ you simply just started to undress while waiting for viktor to do the same

🕷️ viktor prefers warm showers instead of hot showers because he can get a little dizzy

🕷️ although the shower is small, you both make it work

🕷️ viktor knew he liked having his hair played with but having you wash it felt different, more intimate and he loved it

🕷️ keeps his hands on your waist the entire time, unable to help himself from looking at your body as if it was some piece of art that was just for him

🕷️ he’s practically a marionette, letting you move his arms this way and that

jayce

🕷️ it’s not a bath, it’s a fucking sauna

🕷️ and not only do i mean that by it’s fucking huge but the water is so hot you can barely breathe and every window and mirror is fogged up

🕷️ of course being a council member, jayce has jets in his tub

🕷️ he likes to have you sit on his lap while you wash his hair

🕷️ he has stupid yet cute grin on his face using his body wash to clean your back

🕷️ the man likes being pampered so he closes his eyes feeling your hands move across his body

🕷️ he’s usually feeling frisky while you two are bathing so you feel a gentle bite on the neck or shoulder as he’s washing your back

🕷��� depending on how you react is the direction on where the friskiness goes ifykwim

🕷️ has really soft bath robes that you use after getting out of the bath

[fiveandknives]

Satosugu and jayvik parallel save me

[emgemwritesthings]

need a fanfic of Jayce struggling and in pain with those glitches he was experiencing while he tries to work with Caitlyn and Vi. I need someone to be concerned about that glitchy mother fucker. He's traumatised and I need some hurt/comfort

[subbymothpimp]

Yes, it is here!

FRIENDS ACROSS THE RIVER is a brand new Discord server with many custom roles, current news from several Arcane Twitter accounts and a safe space for everyone who would like to discuss their theories, headcanons, some of the more common ships, and anything else.

We are still small but welcome all. Grab a drink and sit down with us. Stream, chat, meet new people, share your art and fics or those by your favourite artists and writers.

WHO IS WELCOMED: * Everyone over 18 years of age - we do not accept minors for mutual safety. Please, if you're under 18 years old, do not join the server. If you do and it's found out, you'll be banned without a warning - no exceptions. The server might feature NSFW content (albeit it's protected by a role) and we don't want anyone younger than 18 to see it or interact with it.

WHO IS NOT WELCOMED: * Minors - no exceptions * Bigots and homophobes

Please note that certain ships are excluded from the server for everyone's safety. This doesn't mean that ship-shaming is allowed. No intolerance is welcomed but respect the wishes of the mod team and do not post or talk about the ships in question.

Also note that you have to verify that you've read the rules before you enter the server. If you're new to Discord, contact the mod team, which is available in the side bar of the server members list, and we will help you.

This server is for everyone, whether you like Cait and Vi or Silco and Sevika.

JOIN TODAY

https://discord.gg/6GxbMf45NV

**All design credit goes to the wonderful @muddiestpath. thank you, we love you!**

[somedaylazysomeday]

Good Intentions Part Twenty

The Haven gets a new donor, Silco wants a side deal.

Rating: Explicit.

Word Count: 4,900

Warnings: Ongoing references to sex as a form of payment, veiled references to organized crime, arguments, oral sex (fem!receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, and blackmail

Previous | Next | Masterlist

---

You did your best not to squint at the men on the other side of the table. Doing so would only make it look like you were suspicious of them. 

You were suspicious of them, of course, but there was no need to be obvious. 

“My apologies, gentlemen,” you said slowly. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but with all of the opportunities available to you, I don’t understand why you are so interested in helping to fund the Haven.”

“It’s complicated.” Jayce Talis, the most famous Piltover inventor in recent history, rubbed at the space between his heavy brows. 

“I do own and operate a relief organization and facilitate certain healthcare treatments, including minimizing the effects of Shimmer withdrawal,” you pointed out mildly. “Maybe, if you explain it slowly, I can follow along.”

One corner of his mouth curved upward, emphasizing the fullness of his lips. He was famously handsome and infamously unavailable, but that was fine. Your tastes ran in other directions. 

His business partner - a man who was known around the Undercity only as Viktor - crossed his arms, slouching back in his seat. You tried not to judge it as a show of poor manners, especially when he straightened his leg with a wince. It was very likely Viktor just needed to adjust positions. Of course, it was equally likely that he didn’t find you very amusing. 

“Make your point, Jayce,” Viktor muttered. “We have important business to take care of at the lab.”

“Yes, the lab,” Jayce said, adding a nod in your direction. “As you may already know, HexTech is doing well. We have made several important advancements and are set to debut more over the next few years. We own the patents to everything outright, so all profits come to us. Piltover has given us a few dozen grants and investments have flooded in. We have plenty of money to pursue the further development of HexTech.” 

You nodded. It all seemed simple to understand so far.

“There is one particular area where HexTech does not excel: outreach.” Viktor interrupted with an impatient look at his now-pouting business partner. “That is why we reached out to you.” 

“Yes, but is there a particular reason you want to support the Haven rather than any other Undercity outreach?” you pressed. Maybe you were a little paranoid, but your recent experiences with Silco had convinced you that being more discerning was probably a smart move. 

Jayce sat forward slightly. “The Haven’s track record is impressive. Your expense justification reports have all shown remarkably low operating costs, your residents have started to find work with other Undercity businesses, and there’s plenty of buzz about the dent you’ve made in the Shimmer trade in your neighborhood.” 

The blood roared in your ears at that. “That’s an overstatement, of course. Drug use waxes and wanes in neighborhoods over time. It’s just coincidence that Shimmer use decreased when the Haven opened.” 

Jayce furrowed his brows, but Viktor looked like you had finally said something interesting. “I assume that is the line one must repeat vehemently if one wants to avoid the attention of the chem barons.” 

“Chem barons?” Jayce repeated, now frowning harder. “They’re a local legend, a convenient shadow government that the people can blame their problems on.”

“Of course,” you agreed. 

Viktor looked darkly amused. “Nothing more than a legend, certainly.” 

“Yeah…” Jayce said slowly, glancing between you and Viktor. “Anyway, we’ve heard about the decreased drug use and we want to support that as much as possible. You and the Haven seem like the best choice to make that happen.”

“How is your security?” Viktor asked abruptly. 

“We have a small team of guards for the exterior of the building,” you said honestly. It probably wouldn’t help anything if you told them exactly who was paying for that small team of guards. “There is almost no Enforcer presence in the Lanes, so we can’t count on a patrol happening at a crucial time.” 

“I can pull a few strings,” Jayce assured you, totally confident. “I have some connections with the Enforcers. Piltover wants to support new development, especially when it isn’t tied to the drug trade. And they’re not going to find anything better than an anti-Shimmer organization with a proven track record.” 

You nodded in acknowledgement of his point, but looked to Viktor. “And you? Do you also think the Haven is a good match for HexTech’s goals?”

Viktor lifted one shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. “I fail to see what impact your outreach could possibly have on the Undercity. The politics are snarled, the people are desperate, and there is too much money to be made from exploitation.” 

That was a harsh assessment, but it was true. Jayce cleared his throat uncomfortably, but Viktor spoke again before the better-mannered of the pair could offer any reassurances. “That being said, I am… reluctantly impressed by what I have heard of your meetings with Silco. There are few willing to argue with him.” 

You stiffened slightly at Viktor’s mention of Silco. Up to that point, you had both pointedly avoided using his name, as evidenced by the way Jayce was glancing between the two of you. 

“I don’t understand,” Jayce admitted. “Who is Silco?” 

“You will find out,” Viktor said, the statement sounding both threatening and utterly inevitable as he stood. “I must return to the lab. Jayce, I agree with whatever choice you make.” 

You watched as Viktor leaned heavily on the cane and left the building. It was situated at the edge of Piltover, just across the bridge from the Undercity. Jayce had assured you multiple times that, if they were not working on time-sensitive experiments at HexTech, they would have been more than willing to meet you in the Undercity. He may have even been telling the truth. 

Jayce was still half-smiling when he looked back at you. “Who is Silco?” 

You got the impression that he would keep pushing until he got an answer, so you chose your words carefully. “He is a… major player in the Undercity. He wants- well, he says he’s working for the good of the people. That’s up for debate.” 

“But what does he do?” Jayce pressed. 

“He’s an industrialist.” You sat very straight on the edge of your chair - not quite standing, but giving the impression that you were ready to leave. “Speaking of helping the Undercity, I need to get back to the Haven. When you’ve made a decision about your outreach, please let me know.” 

“Easy enough,” Jayce said, standing to offer a hand over the table. “HexTech would like to provide funding for the Haven, to be used in whatever way you think is appropriate.” 

You were giddy with excitement, and it rushed through your veins like adrenaline. Somehow, you managed to keep a straight face long enough to thank Jayce and accept the check he filled out for the Haven. It was generous, which made your heart soar. You would be able to help so many people!

The good news put a spring in your step and you were still bouncing as you climbed the stairs to Silco’s office. Thankfully, no one was around so early in the day - you had serious doubts about your ability to look cranky and irritated right then, but you would have been obliged to put on a performance if there were onlookers. 

“You seem cheerful,” Silco noted as you closed the door behind yourself. 

“So far, so good,” you told him, walking over to his desk. “What’s the plan for today?” 

He ignored your question. “Productive morning, I take it?” 

“Very.” 

You peered out through the window. The Last Drop was just barely tall enough for you to catch glimpses of the building projects happening over near the Haven. The mechanic’s shop was well on its way to being completed, the construction crews had broken ground on the second apartment building, and the grocers were taking over an existing building, so they were already in the process of hiring staff. 

As you leaned back, you caught sight of a familiar handprint on the glass and your lower belly tightened with the reminder of how it had gotten there. 

“And how much will HexTech be allotting you?” 

With the casually conversational way Silco asked his question, you didn’t immediately notice that anything was wrong. Your attention was split between the handprint on the window and the ever-increasing needs of your body. At last, awareness filtered through and you froze. 

‘I-” You cleared your throat, giving your best innocent expression as you turned to look at him. “What do you mean?” 

Silco gave an impatient gesture. “Come, pet, we have already discussed that I know all that happens in Zaun.” 

“Nothing happened in Zaun,” you said blandly. 

His answering look was dry. “But a potential alliance between the Haven and HexTech undeniably concerns Zaun and her future. Do me the courtesy of assuming I know of your meeting with the two inventors behind HexTech.”

“Fine,” you agreed, largely because he gave no indication of moving on. “I met with the owners of HexTech.” 

“Thank you,” Silco said, gaze drifting to the window. “And how much has young Talis decided to give the Haven?” 

You paused, uncomfortable with the idea that you needed to place a boundary. You and Silco shouldn’t be close enough to need things like boundaries - the clear divisions between you should have been so obvious as to be implied. “I’m not sharing that information with you.” 

“Why not?” he asked. “If I know the size of their donation, I can exceed it.” 

“I don’t need any more donations at the moment,” you told him. 

Silco’s brows unfurrowed. “Ah, that much? Congratulations. You may rest secure in the knowledge that the sale of your morals has fetched so high a price.” 

You recoiled at the slight before you could stop yourself. A drug lord was going to lecture you about morals? That bothered you. Surely that was the cause of your discomfort. Any other reason would imply that Silco was important enough to you that his opinion mattered. 

“I didn’t have to sacrifice my morals to accept their donation, unlike others the Haven has received in the past,” you told him icily. 

Silco stood abruptly, his chair lurching back with the movement. You held your ground, though it took more effort than you were comfortable with. “My donations served your residents just as well as the ones from HexTech will, and at far more dire a time. Do not act as though I were not there to support you every time you have needed me.” 

You gaped at that. “Because we’re in a deal! Every donation served you just as well as it did me - it increased your leverage over me and the Haven. Convenient, since you need me around for an easy source of sex.” 

He scoffed, looming over you. “Do you truly believe that there are not others who throw themselves at my feet? I receive more offers of easy sex than you would believe possible.” 

“Then why keep me around?” you pressed. 

“Because you are the only one who offers the slightest hint of a challenge!” he snapped, breathing heavily. You had stepped into him rather than away, and he was already so close that your chest and his were nearly touching. You glared at each other from inches away before one or both of you closed the gap separating you.

His mouth was hard and unyielding against yours, disinterested in any hint of refusal. Fortunately, refusing his kiss was the last thing on your mind. The energy of securing the HexTech donation was still crackling through you, and sex was a wonderful outlet. The slight tinge of irritation accompanying it only served to increase the appeal. 

You met him with lips that were already slightly parted, and your tongues were dueling in a moment. Kissing Silco wasn’t entirely unfamiliar to you, but it was still rare enough that you considered it a novel experience. 

Your toes were curling at the slow luxury of his mouth on yours. Silco was rarely in a hurry, even now, when you were apparently taking a break in the middle of a fight. Your interest was only piqued further when he started removing your clothing with rough movements. When he had finished, he pushed you backward as you gasped with shock.

Fortunately, Silco had thought far enough ahead to position you close to his desk. The sensation of your bare ass on the cold surface of the desk was jarring, but you watched Silco eagerly. You were more than willing to brave the temperature difference in order to watch him undress for you. 

To your surprise, Silco lowered himself, fully-dressed, into his throne-like chair. You eyed him, frowning as he took your ankles in his hands. They were placed to either side of his chair, leaving them supported by the arm rests at his sides. It went without saying that your knees were forced open by the position, leaving your core exposed to the air… and to Silco’s gaze.

That mismatched stare was fixed between your legs, studying the most private parts of you as you tried not to squirm. When he reached out to touch your cunt, you felt his fingertips like electric shocks… but he only parted your folds and continued his silent observation. 

Irritation, embarrassment, and need swirled together in you until the pressure pushed words from your mouth. “Silco. What are you doing?” 

“Studying my favorite acquisition,” he replied distantly. Even lost in your own distraction, you could feel the echo of your first time together, in this very situation in this very office, when Silco had said something similar. “And wondering how my pet can be so very unyielding, yet yield so delightfully in other areas.” 

You frowned at him - not that Silco was looking at your face. “Whatever answers you’re looking for, you aren’t going to find them down there.” 

That made him glance upward, a small smile playing around the corner of his mouth. “Perhaps it would be best if you lay back.” 

You complied, though not without rolling your eyes. “If we’re having a repeat of our first session, I hope the sex is more satisfactor- Oh!” 

Without any sort of warning, Silco’s mouth had closed around your clit. You half-lifted back off the surface of his desk, staring down at his face between your legs. You could only hope that your expression was less desperate than you felt, but wicked pleasure filled Silco’s gray-green eye, so you didn’t think that was accurate.

And then he set about making you forget all about expressions and irritations. Silco buried himself between your thighs, teasing you with fingers and lips and tongue and teeth. He nibbled, he stroked, he thrust… He used every hint of weakness he had gathered from you over your time together, recalling every sensation that drove you wild and subjecting you to all of them at once.  

You arched up off the desk so sharply that the muscles in your back and abdomen protested. Your knees tried to close around Silco - either to keep him close or to force him away from you, you weren’t sure which - but his shoulders kept you spread open and subjected to his torment. 

By the time he had pressed three fingers deep inside of you, your body was glistening with sweat. You were panting, your hips trying to both ride him and grind closer to the lips that were wrapped around your clit.

Silco always ate you like he was trying to ruin you for anyone else, but this was more intense than anything you had experienced with him before. You didn’t remember when you had sank your hands into his hair, but it didn’t matter. You were using him only as an anchor; he never moved far enough away for you to need to pull him back. 

At last, he removed himself from you, pulling away almost entirely. The only parts of his body that was touching you were his shoulders, still holding you spread open for him. 

“Silco?” you asked, an edge of desperation clear in your voice. 

“Shh, pet,” he soothed. “I am trying to decide whether you deserve the reward of coming on my tongue.” 

You whined, lifting your hips as if you could convince him to come back. 

“I am less than thrilled by your association with the Piltover business,” Silco admitted slowly. Torturously slowly. “Yet I suppose you may have earned a treat for coming to meet with me anyway. Is that correct?”

You nodded. 

Silco leaned slightly closer. “You would not break our deal over a single donation from another business, would you?” 

You shook your head. 

Silco came even closer then - still not touching you, but near enough that you could feel every exhale on your damp folds. “Does our deal still stand, pet?” 

You nodded, but Silco shook his head. “I need to hear it in that lovely voice. Tell me, darling: does our deal still stand?”  

“Y-yes,” you stammered, the dryness in your throat making it difficult to speak. “Yes!”

“Ahh…” he mused. “How long will it stand?” 

He watched you with a gaze so sharp you understood instinctively that he would only accept a spoken answer. This one was more challenging; he hadn’t told you what he wanted you to say and thinking was difficult when your brain was soaked in hormones and arousal. 

“Until- ah!” Silco had darted a long lick up your folds - not touching anything firmly enough to throw you over the edge, but still startling. And distracting. “As long as I’m in the Undercity.” 

“Our deal will stand as long as you are in the Undercity,” Silco repeated. You nodded and he looked thoughtful. “I suppose I must offer sufficient incentive for you to stay, then.” 

As if the shock of it removed you from the situation, you noted it dispassionately as he parted you a little more, nestled his nose against your clit, and thrust his stiffened tongue up inside of your heat. 

And then the moment of observation passed. You were thrown back into your body just in time for it to go through an earth-shattering orgasm. Your body arced up off the desk again, muscles spasming so hard that you had the vague sense of Silco holding your hips against the surface so you didn’t throw yourself onto the floor. 

But that was a dim knowledge, far in the background of your thoughts - the vast majority of your brain was caught in a stranglehold of pleasure. How could you be expected to lay still when every bit of you was crackling with such intense energy? You had to move. It was not possible to do anything else. 

At last, Silco removed the live current that was his mouth against your core. He had to struggle against the grip you had on his hair. You weren’t really trying to keep him in place, but your muscles had locked down in the aftermath of your orgasm. 

“How do you feel?” he asked conversationally, when he had freed himself from your grip, losing a few strands of hair in the process. 

“Nnn umm…” Nope, those weren’t words. You tried again. “Needum mint.” 

“Take your time,” Silco invited, relaxing back into his chair. He licked his lips, cleaning the shine of you from them with his tongue. Watching the process made your uncomfortably sensitive body tighten, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away. When he had licked everything he could reach, Silco retrieved a handkerchief and wiped his mouth, chin, and cheeks. 

If you were capable of higher thought at the moment, you might have been embarrassed by how much of a mess you had made on Silco’s face. Fortunately, the brain fog was still too dense, and you just watched him vacantly. 

Rather than rush you into another round, Silco snagged a piece of paper from beside your hip. He lifted it and started to read. From the light that filtered through it from the window behind him, you could see that there were schematics of some kind drawn on the page. They were highly detailed, but something about the writing looked young, like it had been done by someone without fully developed fine motor function. 

And then Silco’s fingers wrapped around your ankle and you stopped thinking about anything else. Especially when those fingers began to play idly against your skin, tapping an unfamiliar rhythm on your anklebone. 

“How much more reading do you need to do?” you gritted out at last. 

Silco glanced up at you instantly, eyebrows raised. “I can stop at any time, pet. I was under the impression that you needed a moment to recover.”

“I have recovered.”

“Why did you not tell me immediately?” Silco asked. 

Despite the censurious words, he lazily tucked the schematics into a desk drawer before he stood. In a moment, he had opened the front of his trousers, pushed aside the layers of fabric, and lined himself up with you. 

There was something almost sweet about the fact that Silco was so hard. He had brought you pleasure without being touched in return, and yet his erection hadn’t flagged while he sat quietly reading for minutes. For all that he was a selfish, manipulative bastard, Silco was surprisingly impacted by the way he affected you. 

Any hints of altruism were shoved aside as Silco plunged inside of you. Rather than hesitating or asking if you were ready, he surged powerfully forward until he was seated as deep inside you as he could be. Your hips shifted to accommodate him and your legs trembled against the arms of his chair as you struggled to surface against the pressure of him stretching your walls. 

Silco’s hands were tight on you. One was wrapped around your hips, providing an anchor point as he began to thrust in and out of you. His other hand was firmly on your ass, half-lifting and half-squeezing as he rolled his hips against you. 

That rolling motion made your lips part for air as you stared up at the ceiling. Silco was big enough to fill you, but something about that motion put pressure against your walls in a way that felt almost cyclical. It was like he was fucking a little circle inside of you every time he pushed in, which meant that you got intermittent pressure against your g-spot. It was magical. 

You tried to lift against him, to counter-thrust and speed things up, but Silco wasn’t having it. His grip was firm enough to hold you utterly still, making sure that all you could do was experience the way he was taking you apart for a second time. 

“Silco, please,” you gasped out. “Faster. Harder. Please.” 

“No,” he denied simply. Silco’s hand momentarily released your hip to grab your wrist instead. He tugged it downward until your fingers were brushing the throbbing place between your legs. “If you want your pleasure, you’ll have to take it.” 

You were tempted to deny him and yourself, if only to prove that he wasn’t in charge of you, but the slight graze of your fingertip over your own clit made you squirm. But if you were going to be responsible for your own orgasm, you were damn well going to make sure that Silco helped.

With some effort, you lifted your legs from where they were still resting on the armrests of Silco’s chair. It took only a moment to wrap them around his waist, and when you tightened them, the pull was strong enough to force Silco forward against you. 

When he had bottomed out inside of you, Silco’s grip shifted upward, pressing against the surface of the desk on either side of your hips to support the shift in his center of balance. His eyes widened, startled as you kept him close. You used your newfound freedom to thrust your hips, moving him and out of your core as you strummed at your clit. 

The resulting sensations were enough to take you sailing over the edge again. This orgasm was less abrupt than the last one, but almost more satisfying because your inner muscles had something to lock down around. 

Dimly, you registered that Silco was trying to withdraw from you, but couldn’t escape the grip of your leg muscles. You only understood his reasoning when his body stiffened, face tightening and growing slack as he reached his own peak. 

Silco’s orgasms tended to be subtler than yours, but even his legendary poker face failed him. His expression tightened, then went slack as his body spasmed in a series of explosive surges. He hissed out a curse that sounded like half a prayer, his lips continuing to move long after he had stopped speaking loud enough for you to hear it. 

Slowly, you let the tension seep from your leg muscles. When your feet were dangling toward the floor once more, Silco eased himself out of you. The first spill of your combined mess seeped directly onto the surface of Silco’s desk, but he cleaned it up and caught the next with the same cloth he had used to wipe his face earlier. 

When Silco was seated in his chair once more, you took the cloth and held it in place as you slid down from the desk. Silco smiled wryly. “I never intend to make such a mess, but you are irresistible. Especially when you’ve wrapped me in those lovely legs. If I must be trapped, I will say that I prefer to be trapped in your embrace.” 

“Flatterer,” you accused gently. 

“It is a lovely benefit when the truth is flattering,” he replied, giving you a look you didn’t quite understand… until he added, “Now, pet, tell me how much I should write for the amount of my next donation check.”

You turned toward him with an irritated huff. “Are you still talking about this? I don’t need an extra donation from you, especially not when your motivation is simply to outdo someone you consider a threat.” 

Silco’s lip curled. “I hardly consider those two boys to be a threat.” 

“Then what is your problem with them supporting the Haven?” 

“I dislike the idea of Piltover gaining a foothold here in Zaun,” Silco explained after a moment of thought. “Even if their influence is only over a small outreach. It could hinder the growth of Zaun’s independence.” 

You bit back the irritation that rose at the Haven being referred to as a small outreach. It was a small outreach, of course, but it was so important in your life. It hurt to be reminded that your work was considered minor to other people. 

“Fine,” you said instead of telling him any of that. “What are our options? I’m not telling you how much they donated.”

“Very well,” Silco said tightly. By all appearances, he was displeased with your insistence, but something about the look in his mismatched gaze gave you the distinct impression that he was getting something he had been angling for all day. “If you will not allow me to match HexTech’s donation amount, I would be willing to overlook their involvement in the Haven…” 

“And what will it cost me?”

“I want to be part of the Undercity Innovation Committee.”

It took a beat for you to remember what that was. “Jazper’s group? No. Absolutely not.” 

Silco watched you in silence. His brow creased and it was like watching a far-away storm building into something catastrophic. 

“I have no control over that,” you expanded. “I can’t risk everything I’ve built - I can’t risk the Haven - to argue for you being part of the meetings.” 

“And I would never ask you to,” Silco assured you smoothly. “I have other resources at play. All I need from you is not to argue against me being on the committee.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “So you don’t need me to fight for you? Just don’t tell them not to let you join?” 

“Yes.” 

It seemed simple. Almost too simple. And yet… it had been a long day. You could use some simplicity. “Fine, I agree to those terms. If someone else brings up the possibility of letting you join the committee, I won’t argue against it.” 

“Perfect.” Silco took the end of your conversation as an opportunity to refasten his clothing, so you started to get dressed as well. 

By the time you had finished, Silco was holding out a slip of paper toward you. You looked from it to his face, unwilling to accept an unknown item from him. He continued to offer it anyway.

“If I understand, your objections were not to me making a donation, but to me trying to make a larger donation than HexTech,” Silco explained. “I do not know how much they donated, but here is my offer.” 

“Silco…” you lamented, arms still folded across your chest. 

He lifted a brow. “If you prefer, I could resume trying to discover the HexTech donation amount…” 

You sighed loudly so there could be no mistaking your irritation as you snatched the check from his hand. You didn’t look at the amount, but the way Silco grinned as you shoved it into your pocket didn’t seem promising.

---

Author's Note - Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed. I'll see you next month with another update!

Quick reminder: this story does take a lot of time and effort to write, edit, and format every month. At this point, we're up to roughly a 200-page book. I appreciate the likes that you guys give me, but reblogging my work is the only way new people can find it. I would really appreciate it if you would reblog not only my fics, but any fics you enjoy!

[pinkthick]

A Nocturne in Melody

Pairing: Vampire!Viktor x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7,852 (about 28 minutes reading time)

Summary: Claire raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing on her lips. “Are you sure about that?” she asked, her tone almost pitying. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m sure he loves you. But love doesn’t change the fact that he’s… different now. Forever, actually.”

Notes: This doesn’t contain spoilers whatsoever—so don’t worry. I’m a bit nervous about how this turned out, but hopefully you guys will like it.

Warnings: None(?)

Masterlist: A Nocturne in Melody

Part 2

The apartment was quiet, save for the warm, low notes of your violin filling the space, dancing through the air in practiced strokes. It was the only thing that made you feel somewhat like yourself these days, bringing back some sense of comfort and control. You’d been trying to immerse yourself in the familiar rhythms and melodies, hoping the music would soothe away the dull ache in your leg and the nagging frustration that had settled into your bones since the accident.

You’d avoided the cane again today, though you knew it wasn’t doing you any favors. You could feel the pain creeping up as you stood there, pressing down with each note, reminding you of the limitations you couldn’t outrun. Yet, in these moments, you felt a glimmer of your old self, and you clung to it as fiercely as you could.

You were so caught up in the music, in the small relief it brought, that you didn’t notice Viktor’s presence until he was right behind you, his hands slipping gently around your waist, pulling you close.

“Hi, beautiful.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the violin bow slipping as you nearly lost your grip on the instrument. “Viktor, you scared the shit out of me!” You let out a breath, feeling the tension unravel as he chuckled softly, his voice warm and low.

“Sorry,” he murmured, though the smile in his voice told you he’d been amused by your reaction. He pulled you a bit closer, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “You were so focused.”

You leaned into his embrace, the weight of his arms around you grounding you. It was moments like these that you held onto, reminders that, despite everything, you still had each other. Viktor, with his steady hold, had become your anchor in ways you hadn’t imagined, and you could feel him clinging to you just as tightly.

The past few months had been a struggle, for both of you. After three long months of confinement, Viktor had finally been released from the containment facility. But it hadn’t been easy—he’d battled the cravings, his new instincts, fought to keep control, and every time you’d visited, you’d seen the toll it was taking on him. He hadn’t been the same; the familiar warm amber of his eyes replaced with a striking, unsettling red, his fangs just barely hidden behind his lips.

That first visit, he’d barely looked you in the eye, his hand covering his mouth every time he tried to smile, as if ashamed of the transformation. It had broken your heart, seeing the man you loved reduced to a shadow of himself, fighting so hard to maintain his humanity. And yet, through it all, he’d somehow managed to hold on. When he’d finally been released, he’d come home to you—a different man, perhaps, but still Viktor.

You’d felt the change, though. He was quieter, his shyness around you more pronounced than before, as if afraid of what you might think of him now. You knew the feeling too well—the weight of insecurity and unfamiliarity, the strain of adapting to a body and life that felt like someone else’s. He’d throw himself into his work at the lab, the way he always had, finding solace in his research, but you saw the tiredness in his eyes, the way he avoided smiling too widely or looking at his own reflection.

Yet, in his own way, he had grown stronger. The sickness that had plagued him for so long was gone, replaced with a physical resilience he’d never had before. He was healthier, able to stand for hours without feeling drained, able to keep up with the demands of the lab. But that strength had come at a price, and the reminder was always there—the enforcers stationed outside your apartment, the watchful eyes that followed him everywhere he went. Even at the lab, he was under constant surveillance, their eyes a constant reminder that he was no longer fully trusted.

And then there was you. The pain in your leg was a relentless, unwelcome companion, one that left you frustrated, refusing to rely on the cane you knew you needed. You missed the freedom of movement, the confidence you once had. Every step reminded you of the limitations, and you could feel the anger simmering just beneath the surface, anger at the vampire who’d done this, at the world, even, sometimes, at Viktor for reminding you of what you’d lost.

But when you looked into Viktor’s eyes, when you felt his arms around you, that anger faded, replaced by a fierce determination to be there for him, just as he was for you. You both needed each other, more than ever.

As you leaned back against his chest, Viktor’s arms tightened around you, his chin resting on your shoulder. He was silent for a moment, just holding you, and you could feel the subtle tension in his body, as if he had something on his mind.

“There’s a… party this weekend,” he said finally, his voice hesitant. “One of the council members is hosting it. They want me to be there, but I… I won’t go if you’re not coming.”

You took a deep breath, biting your lip as you weighed his words. The idea of a crowded event, of being surrounded by people, the inevitable questions, the looks—none of it appealed to you. And yet, you knew how much this meant to him, how much he needed your support. It was his first real public appearance since the transformation, and though he’d never say it, you could tell he was nervous.

“Do you… want to go?” you asked, turning slightly to look up at him, your gaze meeting his.

He hesitated, his red eyes flickering with something vulnerable. “Only if you’re with me,” he said softly. “I can handle the stares, the questions… but I don’t want to do it alone. Not without you.”

You reached up, brushing a hand along his cheek, feeling the familiar warmth beneath your fingertips. His hand came up to cover yours, holding it gently, as if afraid you might pull away. The subtle red in his eyes, the faint glint of his fangs as he spoke—these were all reminders of the change, but they didn’t scare you. They were part of him now, just as much as the man you’d fallen in love with.

After a long moment, you nodded. “I’ll go with you,” you said quietly, your voice steady. “If you want to be there, I’ll be there with you.”

The relief in his expression was palpable, his grip on your hand tightening as he pulled you even closer. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his voice barely a whisper as he spoke.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “For staying… for being here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You leaned into his embrace, letting the warmth of his words wash over you. Despite everything, despite the pain and the challenges, you knew that this was where you both belonged—together, finding strength in each other, one day at a time.

—

The lab was alive with the familiar hum of machinery, the faint scent of metal and ozone filling the air as Viktor and Jayce huddled over a collection of blueprints and prototypes spread across the table. The hextech core, their shared obsession and the key to their work, glowed faintly between them, casting a cool, ethereal light over their faces.

Jayce tapped a finger against one of the blueprints, his brow furrowing as he studied the design. “You can’t possibly think that would work,” he said, casting a skeptical look in Viktor’s direction.

Viktor, unperturbed, adjusted his goggles and tilted his head, studying the hextech core with a keen, almost reverent gaze. “I’m saying it’s worth a try, Jayce. We’ve exhausted the more conventional approaches. Maybe a… less traditional method will yield something.”

Jayce crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “Less traditional, huh? Like throwing caution to the wind and just seeing what sticks?”

Viktor gave a slight, amused smile. “Something like that.”

Jayce rolled his eyes but leaned forward, studying the core more closely. “All right, fine. But combining it with some other element? We’re not just talking about amplifying power here, Viktor. We’re talking about potentially unstable results, especially if it reacts poorly.”

“Precisely,” Viktor murmured, his mind racing as he turned the core over in his hands. “But if we could stabilize it… think about the applications. Energy that could revolutionize everyday life, a source of power that could improve accessibility for all kinds of people. More efficient, more durable. Something truly transformative.”

Jayce’s skepticism softened a little, his gaze shifting from the core to Viktor. “You really think this could be it, don’t you? The next step in hextech?”

Viktor nodded, his eyes gleaming with a quiet intensity. “Imagine a hextech device that could adapt to its user, that could help those who struggle with mobility, sight, or strength. It wouldn’t just be a tool; it would be a part of them. Empowering, not controlling.”

Jayce’s gaze dropped back to the core, the seed of interest clearly taking root. “That does sound… incredible,” he admitted, though there was still a hint of doubt in his voice. “But to get there, we’d need a material strong enough to withstand the energy fluctuations while still being flexible.”

Viktor nodded thoughtfully, his mind already racing through possible solutions. “True. We’d need something that can handle extreme stress without compromising the user’s safety or mobility.” He paused, his brow furrowing in thought. “Perhaps… something organic? Or partially organic. The problem with pure metal is that it limits flexibility and precision.”

“Partially organic?” Jayce echoed, blinking in surprise. “Are you suggesting a hybrid material?”

Viktor shrugged, his fingers tracing patterns in the dust on the table as he spoke, his mind a whirlwind of ideas. “It’s not entirely unheard of. The human body is essentially a collection of organic materials working together with remarkable efficiency. Why not replicate that balance in our design?”

Jayce snorted, but there was a glint of excitement in his eyes. “So now you want to build a synthetic organism, too?”

“Not a full organism,” Viktor replied, a touch of exasperation in his voice. “But a material that can mimic the body’s adaptability and resilience. Something that can respond to the user’s needs in real time.”

Jayce leaned back, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “But even if we could figure out the material, there’s still the issue of integrating it with the hextech core itself. Combining two different energy sources could be volatile.”

Viktor smiled faintly, the spark of an idea beginning to take shape. “What if we used the hextech as a kind of catalyst? Not the primary power source, but something that enhances the natural energy within the material.”

Jayce’s brow furrowed, his mind turning over the possibilities. “So the hextech would amplify the organic properties, like a booster?”

Viktor nodded, his excitement building as he spoke. “Exactly. It would be less invasive, more in tune with the body’s natural rhythms. Think about what that could mean for prosthetics, for example. Devices that respond as seamlessly as a real limb, that adapt and strengthen over time. It could be life-changing.

Jayce was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the hextech core as he processed the idea. “All right, so let’s say we somehow manage to stabilize this… hybrid material. How do we test it?”

Viktor’s expression turned serious, the weight of the challenge settling over him. “We’d need to find a way to monitor the energy flow, to ensure that the hextech doesn’t overwhelm the organic component. But if we can do that…” he replied, his voice quiet.

He let the words hang in the air, the possibilities stretching out before them, vast and uncharted. Jayce nodded slowly, clearly intrigued by the potential of Viktor’s vision.

“This is ambitious—and dangerous,” Jayce admitted, glancing over at Viktor with a mixture of admiration and caution. “But then, you’ve always been ambitious.”

Viktor gave a small, self-deprecating smile. “Ambition isn’t always a bad thing, is it?”

Jayce laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Not when it comes from the right place. And I think you’re onto something here. But we’re going to need a lot of resources to make this work—materials, prototypes, testing… We’re talking months, maybe years of development.”

Viktor nodded, unperturbed by the daunting timeline. “I’m willing to put in the work. We both are, aren’t we?”

Jayce grinned, a hint of the old, infectious enthusiasm returning to his eyes. “Hell yeah, we are. Besides, who else would I want as a partner on something this crazy?”

They shared a rare, genuine smile, the camaraderie between them rekindled by the shared sense of purpose. For all their differences, for all the disagreements and setbacks, this was why they worked together—this shared vision, this drive to create something that could change the world for the better.

Jayce leaned back, a thoughtful expression on his face as he considered their next steps. “So, where do we start? We’re going to need a lot more data on organic materials. Something durable but responsive.”

Viktor nodded, already flipping through the stack of papers and sketches scattered across the table. “There’s some research on flexible bio-metals in the archives. And I know of a few labs that have been experimenting with synthetic nerve tissues. If we can combine their properties with the hextech…”

Jayce’s eyes lit up, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Then we just might have a shot.”

They worked in companionable silence for a while, each lost in their thoughts as they sifted through data, sketches, and formulas. Every now and then, Viktor would jot down a note or make a quick calculation, his mind racing with possibilities. Jayce watched him, a sense of admiration growing as he saw the focus and determination in Viktor’s gaze.

After a while, Jayce broke the silence, his voice soft but thoughtful. “You know, Viktor… you’re not just doing this for the science, are you?”

Viktor glanced up, surprised by the question. “What do you mean?”

Jayce shrugged, a knowing look in his eyes. “You talk about improving lives, helping people, creating something that could change the world. But I think… I think there’s more to it than that for you.”

Viktor was silent for a moment, his gaze dropping back to the hextech core in his hands. “Perhaps,” he admitted quietly. “I suppose… I know what it’s like to feel limited, to have a body that doesn’t do what you need it to. If I can create something that eases that struggle, that gives people back a sense of freedom… then maybe it’s worth it.”

Jayce nodded, a look of respect in his eyes. “I get it. And honestly? I’m with you on this, Viktor. Let’s see how far we can push this thing. Together.”

Viktor met Jayce’s gaze, a flicker of gratitude passing over his face. He wasn’t one to show emotions easily, but in that moment, he felt a surge of appreciation for his friend, for the support and trust that had sustained their partnership through countless challenges.

“Thank you, Jayce,” he said quietly. “For believing in this.”

Jayce grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Oh, don’t thank me yet. We still have to make it work.”

—

The practice room buzzed with the usual chatter and hustle as you finished your session with the crew, the notes of your violin still lingering in the air as you put it down. The familiar routine of rehearsals and the comfort of music always helped ease your mind, giving you a momentary escape from the worries that had been creeping in lately. You were glad you’d come; it felt good to play, to be part of something steady, a rhythm that didn’t ask too much of you, didn’t remind you of the things you’d lost or the new insecurities you were fighting.

The rehearsal wrapped up, and you packed up your violin, the room gradually emptying as everyone trickled out. You’d just slung the violin case over your shoulder when a familiar voice made you turn.

“I heard you were coming to the Kiramman’s party.”

Claire stood there, arms crossed, her gaze sharp and assessing as it lingered on you. She hadn’t exactly been the friendliest toward you, and her appearance here now felt deliberate, her words carrying a weight that hinted at more than just small talk.

You nodded, choosing your words carefully. “Yes, I am.”

“Oh, are you…?” She paused, her lips curving into a knowing smile that made you instantly wary. “You’re coming with Viktor?”

“Yes,” you replied, keeping your tone neutral, though you could feel your pulse quickening, a hint of irritation creeping in at her tone. “Why?”

She tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable. “Oh, I thought he’d pick someone from his… league by now.”

The words hit you like a slap, cold and unexpected. You blinked, taken aback, but you quickly tried to brush it off, refusing to give her the reaction she was clearly hoping for. “I’m sorry?”

She shrugged, as if the comment had been nothing more than an idle observation, her gaze still fixed on you with that same sharpness. “Oh, so you’re still together then,” she said, her voice laced with a mock sympathy that only fueled the knot of tension in your chest. “Pity.”

The implication was clear, each word sinking in like a tiny, well-placed barb. You could feel the anger bubbling up, the instinct to defend yourself and Viktor against her assumptions, but you bit your tongue, forcing yourself to stay calm.

“Why would it be a pity?” you managed, your voice colder than you’d intended.

Claire gave you a long, appraising look, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in your reaction. “Well, I just thought…” She hesitated, feigning innocence, though you could see the satisfaction flickering in her gaze. “I thought he might want to be with someone who understands him a little better now, that’s all. Someone who… lives forever. You know?”

You swallowed, her words sinking deeper, twisting in ways that left a dull ache in your chest. Part of you wanted to brush her off, to shrug it off as nothing more than petty jealousy, but her words hit a nerve, stirring up insecurities you’d been trying to keep buried.

“You don’t know Viktor,” you said quietly, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. “We’re together because we care about each other, not because of what we are.”

Claire raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing on her lips. “Are you sure about that?” she asked, her tone almost pitying. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m sure he loves you. But love doesn’t change the fact that he’s… different now. Forever, actually.”

She paused, letting the weight of her words settle in, watching you carefully, as if gauging how much of her message was getting through.

“Maybe he’s not thinking about it now,” she continued, her voice softening slightly, as if she were offering advice rather than criticism. “But one day, he will. One day, he’ll realize that he doesn’t have to limit himself to… well, to the human experience anymore.”

Her gaze flicked pointedly to your leg, lingering just long enough to drive the point home.

The implication stung, dredging up the insecurities you’d tried so hard to bury since Viktor’s transformation. You’d been fighting to keep those fears at bay, to trust that your relationship was strong enough to withstand the changes, but Claire’s words struck at the heart of your doubts, leaving you feeling raw and exposed.

“I’m not… holding him back,” you said, though the words felt weak, uncertain, even to your own ears.

Claire shrugged again, her expression almost pitying. “Maybe you’re not now. But one day, he’ll want more. And you’ll have to decide whether you’re willing to let him have it.”

The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, settling in your mind with a finality that left you feeling hollow. You tried to shake it off, to remind yourself that Claire didn’t know Viktor, that she couldn’t possibly understand what you shared, but the doubts had already taken root, lingering in the back of your mind like a slow, insidious poison.

Without another word, Claire turned and walked away, leaving you alone with the echo of her words, her parting glance a final, silent jab that left you reeling.

—

The soft glow of the evening settled over your apartment as you slipped on your dress, adjusting the fabric and inspecting your reflection in the mirror. Tonight was important for Viktor — it was more than a social event; it was a milestone. Since his release from the facility, he hadn’t attended anything quite so grand or public, and you could tell it weighed on him.

As you adjusted the delicate straps of your dress, you caught Viktor’s reflection standing behind you, pulling his sleeves into place and carefully fastening each button. He was dressed sharply, his hair smoothed down and his posture straighter than usual. Yet his gaze was distant, a flicker of nerves clouding his eyes as he adjusted his collar for the fourth time.

Turning to face him, you took a step closer and rested a hand on his shoulder, watching him tense and then relax under your touch. “You know, it’s not going to be that bad, right?” you said softly, your voice laced with encouragement.

Viktor glanced at you, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he tried to shrug it off. “Yes, yes — just nervous.”

But his answer didn’t fool you; you could sense there was more to his unease than simple nerves. He looked at you, his gaze lingering, and something in his expression made your heart skip. Before you could ask him about it, he closed the distance between you, his hand cupping your cheek as he leaned in. The kiss was gentle at first, then deeper, more insistent, as if he were pouring a quiet desperation into it.

You felt a flutter in your chest, the heat of his touch surprising you but drawing you in all the same. Your hands slipped around his waist, pulling him closer, and for a moment, everything else faded away. Viktor’s hand trailed to the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair as he deepened the kiss, a quiet intensity building between you.

After a moment, he pulled back slightly, his breath warm against your skin. He held your gaze, his eyes shadowed with something you couldn’t quite place. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering as if he didn’t want to let go.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you asked softly, your voice laced with concern.

Viktor hesitated, his eyes searching yours before he managed a faint smile. “I am,” he murmured, but his hand tightened ever so slightly on your waist, as if anchoring himself. “I just… I don’t want to make a fool of myself tonight.”

You chuckled, the warmth in his gaze making your heart swell. “You could never make a fool of yourself,” you assured him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re going to be amazing, Viktor. Everyone will see what I see.”

His eyes softened, his fingers grazing along your cheek with a tenderness that made your breath catch. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, as if he were speaking a truth too fragile to say aloud.

He kissed you again, slower this time, his lips lingering as if he were savoring the moment. His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer, and you could feel his heart pounding in time with yours. The world outside seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you, wrapped in the quiet warmth of each other’s presence.

After a moment, he pulled back, his hand still resting on your waist as he gazed at you with a mix of admiration and something deeper, something that tugged at the edges of your heart. “I… I don’t say it often,” he began, his voice faltering slightly, “but I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

You felt a warmth spread through you, a quiet happiness that came from knowing just how much you meant to him. Smiling, you placed a hand over his, squeezing gently. “And I don’t know where I’d be without you,” you replied, your voice soft. “We’ve always been together, haven’t we?”

He nodded, a hint of relief easing the tension in his expression. “Yes… always.”

—

The atmosphere at the Kiramman party was electric. The warm lights cast a glow over the grand hall, and the murmur of laughter and conversation filled the space as you stood with Viktor, Jayce, Mel, and Caitlyn. Even with the initial excitement, your leg was already protesting the long hours of standing. You’d brought your cane along but tried to lean against it subtly, hoping to mask the pain that was slowly creeping in.

Caitlyn, ever perceptive, gave you a look, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you doing okay?” she asked, voice low enough so only you could hear.

You gave a reassuring nod, managing a small smile. “I’m fine, thanks,” you replied, though the ache in your leg said otherwise.

Viktor, however, was harder to read tonight. He was unusually fidgety, his fingers tapping against his glass, eyes darting to Jayce every now and then. When he noticed you watching him, he looked down quickly, almost as if he’d been caught. Jayce raised a brow at Viktor with a knowing smirk, but didn’t say anything, making the whole interaction feel even stranger.

Amid the lively discussions about hextech and advancements in Piltover, Viktor suddenly leaned close, his voice a touch uncertain. “Do you want something from the bar?”

The question caught you off guard, but you welcomed the distraction. “Uh—I could use a hugo.”

Without another word, Viktor nodded and hurried off towards the bar, his shoulders tense, leaving you with the others. Jayce, who had been watching Viktor with a mixture of amusement and sympathy, turned to you with a small grin, his eyebrows raised.

“What?” you asked, puzzled, but he just shook his head, his smile saying more than words could.

Jayce’s smirk lingered a moment longer, and you couldn’t help but wonder what was going on with Viktor tonight. He had seemed on edge, more so than usual, and while you wanted to brush it off as pre-party nerves, something about his behavior felt different. And then there were those subtle glances he kept exchanging with Jayce. It was as if Viktor was working up to something, or maybe he just needed a moment to take the edge off.

Meanwhile, across the room, Viktor was at the bar, his shoulders visibly easing as he downed a quick shot of vodka, then another, clearly hoping to settle his nerves. He never drinked like this. The burn must have helped because he took a deep breath, visibly relaxing as the bartender set about mixing your drink.

Just then, Esma, one of Viktor’s colleagues from the lab, approached him with a smile. Her striking red dress and piercing gaze gave her an air of elegance that immediately drew attention. “Viktor,” she greeted warmly, “we haven’t caught up in a while.”

“Oh—Esma,” Viktor replied, his voice light as he turned to her, but his usual guardedness softened under the influence of the alcohol. “It’s been… busy.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed,” she replied with a coy smile, leaning in slightly. “You’ve been making quite the impression these days. Working on any new projects?”

“Well,” he started, glancing down at his empty shot glass before looking back at her, “it’s still early stages, but yes, Jayce and I have… something in the works.” He gestured for another shot, downing it before he could think twice, and you could tell from across the room that his inhibitions were starting to lower.

Esma’s smile lingered as she watched him, her gaze lingering a beat too long. “I’m sure it’s something remarkable. You’ve always had that drive. It’s rare, you know.” Her tone held a warmth that was almost… flirtatious.

A pang of something bitter twisted in your chest as you watched them. It wasn’t like you to feel this way, yet Claire’s words had been gnawing at you for days now, tainting your thoughts in ways you hadn’t anticipated. Maybe she had a point, you thought reluctantly. Viktor’s new status, his abilities, his longevity — it felt like a widening chasm between you two, one that was hard to ignore. You hated feeling this insecure, but it was as if her words had planted a seed that was growing despite your efforts to stamp it out.

You tried to shake it off, but the hurt in your chest only grew. You needed air, a moment to clear your head. Without another word to the others, you quietly slipped away, making your way to the open balcony where the cool evening air brushed against your skin, a welcome relief from the crowded hall. The night sky stretched out before you, the stars scattered like tiny diamonds against the deep blue canvas. It was beautiful, yet you felt strangely hollow, a sense of unease settling in your stomach.

It wasn’t long before the faint sound of footsteps reached you, and you turned to see Viktor standing in the doorway, a glass in his hand. He hesitated, a hint of concern flickering in his eyes. “You… left,” he said softly, stepping closer and holding out the drink.

You took it with a small smile, though the weight of your thoughts still lingered. “Just needed some fresh air,” you replied, taking a sip and feeling the refreshing taste of the hugo wash over you before setting it down on a table.

Viktor stood beside you, his gaze following yours as he looked out at the cityscape. There was a silence between you, not uncomfortable but heavy with words unspoken. After a moment, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Are you… alright?” His hand moved to rest on the balcony railing, fingers brushing close to yours.

You took a breath, considering his question. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just—thinking.”

His brow furrowed, his eyes searching yours. “About?”

You hesitated, unsure if you should share what was truly on your mind. But the vulnerability in his gaze, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world, made it hard to hold back. “It’s… probably nothing,” you began, your voice faltering slightly. “I just… I’ve been thinking about us, about… everything.”

Viktor’s grip tightened on the railing, and you noticed the subtle tension in his posture. “You don’t have to worry,” he murmured, his voice low. “You mean everything to me. I know things have… changed, but that hasn’t.”

You felt a warmth spread through you, a reassurance that eased the ache in your chest. He reached for your hand, his fingers cool against yours, and held it tightly, as if grounding himself in the connection between you.

Before you could respond, though, you heard Jayce calling from behind, his voice laced with good-natured exasperation. “There you two are! Come on, they’re about to start the toast. You’re both missing out.”

Viktor shot you a small smile, his fingers lingering on yours as if reluctant to let go.

“Shall we?”

You nodded but you were still looking out over the city with an expression Viktor couldn’t read. He took a few steps forward, reaching out tentatively before stopping, something uncertain flickering in his eyes.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, his voice a low murmur, his gaze searching yours.

You forced a smile, nodding. “Yeah,” you replied, though the word felt heavy on your tongue, the weight of what you’d been feeling all evening pressing harder against your chest.

Viktor’s lips quirked up, his eyes softening. He leaned in, closing the small distance between you, but when he went to press a quick kiss to your lips, you instinctively pulled back. The hurt in his eyes was immediate, and he chuckled nervously, trying to hide his disappointment.

“You say that you’re okay,” he murmured, his voice slightly strained, “but then you do… this.”

For a moment, you just looked at him, taking in every detail: the crimson hue of his irises, the gleam of his fangs when he spoke, his posture straighter, stronger. He looked so different, yet so unmistakably him. It was everything he had always wanted — strength, vitality, a body that didn’t betray him at every step. And while you wanted to feel only pride and joy for him, you couldn’t deny the other emotions that simmered beneath the surface.

You wanted him to be happy, to have this life that had been stolen from him for so long. But when you looked at him now, the gap between you felt insurmountable. He was practically immortal, untouched by the limits you were now feeling so acutely in yourself.

“Viktor…” you began, voice catching as you struggled to find the words.

His brows knit together, a flash of fear passing over his face. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to touch your arm, but you didn’t meet his gaze, afraid he’d see everything you were feeling.

“I love you so much,” you finally said, your voice breaking. “So much it hurts, Viktor. But… maybe you’d be better off without me.”

His hand froze mid-air, and for a second, he looked as if you’d struck him. He blinked, his mouth opening slightly before he closed it, his expression tight. “You’re… not serious,” he whispered, the words barely escaping him as he searched your face, looking for any hint that you were joking.

But you held his gaze, your silence an answer in itself.

“You’re not thinking clearly,” he said, his voice growing more desperate, his hands reaching for yours, his grip firm but gentle. “You’re tired, you’re… frustrated. But that’s all it is.”

You let out a trembling breath, glancing down at your intertwined hands, his touch grounding you even as your heart ached. “Viktor, this isn’t… I’m not just tired,” you said, your voice shaking. “It’s that— I will die one day, Viktor. And it’s not fair to you. You deserve someone who can be with you forever.”

“And it was fair to you?” he shot back, his tone sharper than you’d ever heard it. “When I was dying, when we first got into the relationship, you knew that I would die, probably within a few years. And yet you stayed. You knew I couldn’t give you a future, you still…” His voice cracked, and he looked down, his hand slipping from yours as he pressed it against his forehead, closing his eyes as if he couldn’t bear to look at you.

“It was different,” you whispered, swallowing hard. The words sounded hollow even to your own ears.

He let out a bitter laugh, one that was full of hurt and frustration. “Different?” he repeated, his voice shaking. “How was it different? Tell me, please, because I am struggling to understand.”

You opened your mouth to answer, but the words wouldn’t come. In truth, you weren’t sure how to explain it. When you’d first got into a relationship with him, he’d been so frail, so full of life and ambition despite his limitations. You’d fallen in love with him knowing his time was limited, that every day with him was a gift you could lose at any moment. And now… he was the one who would live on, untouched by age or illness, while you were bound by the inevitabilities of your human existence.

“It’s because… you have forever now, Viktor,” you managed, your voice barely a whisper. “You have this chance, this life ahead of you. I don’t want to hold you back from that.”

Viktor’s gaze softened, the anger fading as he stepped closer, his hands finding your shoulders, his grip firm as he forced you to look at him. “You were never— you could never hold me back,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. Don’t you see that? You’ve been with me through everything — you are my future. None of this means anything if I don’t have you by my side.”

His words cut through your resolve, and you felt a surge of tears well up, your chest tightening as you looked at him, his red eyes glistening with a desperation you’d never seen before. He was breaking, and it shattered you to see him like this, so vulnerable, so raw.

“I thought…” you began, your voice choked as you struggled to find the right words. “I thought maybe… you’d be better off with someone… someone like you.”

A flicker of pain crossed his face, and he looked down, his fingers tightening on your shoulders. “So that’s what this is about,” he murmured, a trace of bitterness in his tone. “You think I want… that I’d prefer someone else?”

You shook your head, feeling the tears slip down your cheeks. “It’s just — it’s hard,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I see you now, and you’re everything you’ve always wanted to be. And I want to be happy for you, but I can’t help but feel like… like you deserve more.”

He let out a shaky breath, his own eyes glistening as he looked at you, his hand moving to cup your cheek. “You’re right,” he said quietly. “I am everything I wanted to be. Stronger, healthier… but without you, none of it means anything. I never… I never wanted immortality. I wanted a life with you, even if it was short. That was enough for me.” His voice broke, and you saw the first tear slip down his cheek, his hand trembling against your skin. “Please… don’t take that away from me,” he whispered, his gaze pleading as he held you, as if he were afraid you’d slip through his fingers.

You couldn’t hold back the sob that escaped you, your heart breaking as you reached up, covering his hand with yours, leaning into his touch. “Viktor… I don’t want to lose you,” you admitted, your voice thick with emotion. “But I’m so afraid. Afraid that one day, I’ll be gone, and you’ll… you’ll regret staying with me.”

He shook his head, his gaze fierce as he pressed his forehead against yours, his breaths shaky as he clung to you. “I would never regret loving you,” he whispered, his voice full of conviction. “No matter what happens, no matter how much time we have… I want to spend it with you. Don’t you understand? You’re the only one I want.”

You felt the weight of his words settle over you, and for a moment, the fear and doubt melted away, replaced by the warmth of his love, his unwavering devotion. He loved you, more deeply than you’d ever thought possible, and in that moment, you realized that maybe… maybe that was enough.

With a trembling breath, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close, feeling his heartbeat against yours. “I love you, Viktor,” you whispered, the words spilling from your lips like a confession. “I don’t want to leave you..but—“

He let out a shuddering sigh, his arms tightening around you as if he could hold you there forever. “Then stay,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “Please… stay.”

You drew in a shaky breath, feeling as if the words that had settled like stones in your throat would shatter everything around you. “I really don’t want you to regret us,” you whispered, struggling to keep your voice steady. Viktor’s eyes softened, and without hesitation, he cupped your face with both hands, gently but firmly guiding you to meet his gaze. His thumbs brushed over your cheeks, wiping away the tears that had already started to fall.

“How could I even—love, listen to me once and for all,” he murmured, his voice steady yet filled with such raw tenderness it made your heart ache. His eyes, normally so focused and intense, were now wide open, inviting you to see every inch of his soul. “I could never regret us. You are… everything.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was filled only by the faint sounds of the party and the soft, steady rhythm of his breathing. As you looked into his eyes, you realized that his feelings for you had never changed, even though so much about him had. There was a truth there, in the depths of his red eyes, that transcended everything else — that his love for you was still, and would always be, unwavering.

But before you could even find the words to respond, Viktor took a small step back, his hands falling from your face as he reached into his coat pocket. And then he pulled out a small velvet box.

The air left your lungs in an instant. You stared at it, unable to process what you were seeing as he held the box in his palm, looking down at it with a strange mixture of determination and vulnerability.

“I’d planned this for… well, longer than I’d like to admit,” he said, his voice laced with a soft, almost shy chuckle as he opened the box, revealing a delicate, glistening ring inside. “I wanted tonight to be perfect. I thought about it so many times, wondering how I would ask you. But all I knew was that I couldn’t… I didn’t want to wait any longer.”

The realization washed over you, sudden and powerful. He’d been planning to propose. He’d come here tonight with the hope of a promise, of solidifying the life you’d built together, and in return, you’d nearly torn it all apart.

A strangled laugh escaped you, and you felt a fresh wave of tears spring to your eyes as you stared at the ring. It was beautiful, simple yet elegant, and it seemed to sparkle with the same quiet strength you’d always seen in him. The mix of emotions overwhelmed you — laughter and tears blending into something that felt too big for words as you buried your face in his chest, gripping his shirt with trembling hands.

“I’m… I’m such an idiot,” you managed between sobs and laughter, your voice muffled against him. “You wanted to… you were going to propose, and I… I nearly ruined it. Viktor, I…” He held you tightly, one hand resting on the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair as he let you ride out the storm of emotions. “No, no,” he murmured soothingly, his voice a soft balm against the rawness of your guilt and regret. “You didn’t ruin anything. I understand, love. I understand more than you know.”

You looked up at him, your eyes still brimming with tears, but his expression was filled with nothing but warmth and understanding. He took your hands, guiding them up to his chest, pressing them over his heart so you could feel the steady, reassuring beat.

“I know you’re afraid,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And… I know I’m asking for a lot. For you to share your life with someone who will outlive everyone else around him, who’s been changed in ways neither of us fully understand. But please, please believe me when I say that none of that matters. What matters is you, and everything we’ve built together. I would never regret us. Ever.”

You felt another tear slip down your cheek as you reached up, brushing your fingers along the edge of his face. He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes briefly, as if savoring the warmth of your skin against his. And in that moment, you felt a surge of clarity, a sudden certainty that cut through the lingering doubts and fears.

“I want that too,” you whispered, your voice steadying as the weight of your decision settled over you. “I want… all of it. With you.”

Viktor’s eyes opened, his gaze locking onto yours, and you saw the flicker of relief and joy that passed over his face. He lifted the ring from the box, holding it delicately between his fingers as he looked at you with a question in his eyes, a silent plea for confirmation. “Then—Will you marry me?” he asked softly, his voice almost trembling as he held his breath, waiting for your answer.

You nodded, a smile breaking through the lingering tears. “Yes. God—yes. Viktor, I want to be with you. For as long as we have.”

He let out a shaky breath, a relieved, disbelieving laugh escaping him as he slipped the ring onto your finger. His hands were trembling, and you could feel the way he was fighting to hold back his own emotions as he gazed at the ring, his thumb brushing over it gently once it was in place.

When he looked back up at you, his eyes were glistening, the raw vulnerability in them something he’d only ever shown to you. He cupped your face again, his fingers gentle as he wiped away the last remnants of your tears. “I love you,” he whispered, the words soft and reverent, as if he were speaking a sacred truth. “More than anything in this world.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was gentle, yet filled with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. You melted into him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pressed yourself closer, letting the warmth of his embrace wash over you, grounding you in the certainty of his love.

The kiss deepened, and for a few precious moments, there was nothing else — no doubts, no fears, just the quiet, unshakable truth of your love for each other. When you finally pulled back, your breaths mingling as you leaned your forehead against his, you felt a sense of peace settle over you, as if all the pieces had finally fallen into place.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your cheek. “There’s no need to thank me,” he replied softly. “Just… be here with me. That’s all I’ll ever need.”

You held his gaze, feeling the weight of his words settle over you, and you knew, without a doubt, that this was where you were meant to be.

A/N: I still haven’t finished part 3, but part 4 is done lmao😭, since it’s just smut and maybe I’ll post it?? (I don’t know if I should or not lmao)

[mistresscitrusslice]

“Our Hextech dream” this, “our Hextech dream” that. What about “our Glorious Evolution”? Where are my “Jayce willingly joins Viktor’s Glorious Evolution under no duress except his own deteriorating sanity” fics?