#test muse jayce

[wayfaringstrangxr]

𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 (Jayce)

𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝, 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐

► ARE YOU HAPPY? ↳ ❝I'm not sure I am. I thought I was, but seeng that my dream did more harm than good... I cannot say.❞ 

► ARE YOU ANGRY? ↳   ❝Constantly.❞

► ARE YOUR PARENTS STILL MARRIED? ↳   ❝My father died when I was very young.❞

NINE FACTS.

► BIRTH PLACE ↳  ❝Piltover❞

► HAIR COLOR ↳  ❝Brown. And let's not mention the grey hair starting to appear.❞

► EYE COLOR ↳  ❝Hazel.❞

► BIRTHDAY ↳   ❝7/7❞

► MOOD ↳  ❝Angry.❞

► GENDER ↳ ❝Male.❞

► SUMMER OR WINTER ↳  ❝Winters are great when you spend them in front of the furnace.❞

► MORNING OR AFTERNOON ↳  ❝Mornings. Everything seems more important when you address them at morning.❞

► SPOKEN LANGUAGES ↳  ❝Continental.❞

CHOICES.

► LEMONADE OR ICED TEA ↳   ❝Cait tried to make me enjoy iced tea... She gave up.❞

► CATS OR DOGS ↳   ❝Dogs, we have more in common, I think.❞

► A FEW BEST FRIENDS OR MANY REGULAR FRIENDS ↳   ❝The problem with being a counselor is that everyone thinks you're friends. But I prefer the few that actually know the real me.❞

► DAY OR NIGHT ↳  ❝Day.❞

HAVE YOU EVERS.

► BEEN CAUGHT SNEAKING OUT   ↳   ❝You mean when Viktor and I were trying to get into the lab and Mel caught us and he said something about his room?❞

► FALLEN DOWN/UP THE STAIRS   ↳   ❝A couple times as a kid. My mom started thinking I was trying to kill myself.❞

► WANTED TO DISAPPEAR   ↳   ❝At the trial with the council, yes.❞

FAMILY.

► DO YOU AND YOUR FAMILY GET ALONG ↳   ❝My relationship with my mother was shaken after the didn't supported me in front of the council, but I understand now that she only wanted to keep me safe.❞

► WOULD YOU SAY YOU HAVE A “MESSED UP LIFE”   ↳  ❝Not until I joined the council.❞

► HAVE YOU EVER RAN AWAY FROM HOME   ↳   ❝No. I never had a reason to do so.❞

► HAVE YOU EVER GOTTEN KICKED OUT ↳    ❝I was kicked out of the academy, does it count?❞

FRIENDS.

► DO YOU SECRETLY HATE ONE OF YOUR FRIENDS ↳   ❝Do people actually do that? Why to be friends then?❞

► DO YOU CONSIDER ALL OF YOUR FRIENDS GOOD FRIENDS ↳   ❝The ones I don't, are not my friends.❞

► WHO IS YOUR BEST FRIEND ↳   ❝Viktor. I know he understands all my problems and questions. He saved me in every way a person can be saved. And I hope to do the same for him.❞

► WHO KNOWS EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU ↳   ❝Viktor probably.❞

tagged by :: @mxchineherald (kinda stollen)

tagging :: @blackrosesmatron | @skillandsteel

[galaxofmuses]

// ....*sighs* I love League and Arcane but whoo boy...I am scared for these three as well knowing where the lore is going. ;A;

// i'll add these blorbos later cuz I lost control of my life and caved in

[myristicisms]

@knightfeared | Jayce sent;;

“ what are you doing? ” ( Jayce @ Vincent cause we’re winging thangz 💅✨ )

Crimson covered shoulders rise, nose twitching ever so slightly upon realizing his solitude had been intruded upon moments before the strange voice had cut through Vincent's tranquil silence. Whomever thought it wise to approach the sitting man certainly had guts, he'd give them that, but they were also foolish. He's half tempted to reach for Cerberus, to aim his weapon and dispatch the man slowly approaching him before he got the chance to injure Vincent first but... ( If he meant harm, he wouldn't have spoken up. ) Instead, he resumes with picking the dirt from his gauntlet, cleaning his arm properly after a battle well fought.

“ Dunno, what am I doing? ” He questions back, petulantly sure but Vincent had wanted to be left alone, doesn't bother to look up to see just who he was speaking to before deciding perhaps he was being rude, unnecessarily so. “ Upkeep, cleaning. That's what I'm doing. Why are you here? ” A question for a question seemed fair enough, staying mysterious didn't seem very important at the moment, not since Vincent knew his own capabilities, knew he was safe no matter the circumstances or was at least confident enough in the matter.

[bruhstories]

Muse II

p.1 && p.3

summary: a knock on your door, an envelope and a dress pairing: viktor x painter!reader && jayce x mel warnings: swearing, angst, descriptions of anxiety and depression, quite a lot of dialogue, veeeery slow burn, jayce being a good friend, canon divergent w/c: 3.7k

a/n: this part is a little more reader-centric, but i will fix that in the third (and potentially the last) part. liking and reblogging is encouraged and appreciated!

"May I leave now?" The bright lights of the infirmary forced Viktor to squeeze his eyes shut.

The doctor nodded, but the nurse gasped, then shook her head. She seemed to want to see him all the time, always finding a reason to stall, to buy time. Viktor never understood why, but then again, he never understood why you wanted him to be your model. 

"I think it would be prudent to run a few more tests." The nurse suggested.

Her name was Sky, and she had been nothing but kind to him. But weren't all nurses supposed to be humane? To care for the sick? Unfortunately for her, the doctor was adamant on dismissing Viktor.

"I'm afraid not, Sky. Viktor's condition isn't improving, but it isn't advancing either. It's as though his condition simply stopped. You're free to go, but please come back if you notice any changes, positive or otherwise."

"Thank you, doctor." Viktor gripped the handle of his cane and left the infirmary, strolling down the streets of Piltover. 

He had been thinking about you, about how the rune you inscribed in his portrait changed him, but his ego brought out the worst in him, and he refused to search for you, to apologise for misjudging you. Besides, you were probably busy with commissions anyway. You wouldn't make time for him after he stupidly, arrogantly tore down your pride.

You weren't busy. 

It had been days since you left your apartment, weeks since you last touched a paintbrush, months since you saw Viktor. Not having a muse incapacitated you, turned off your creativity, destroyed your imagination. You stared at the blank canvas in front of you — empty, just like your mind and your heart.

Abandoning the attempt to paint, you tried to draw instead. Fiddling with the pencil in your hand, you took a look at your previous sketches, desperate to do something, anything. But nothing came out of you. Not a single line, or dot, or sliver of hope. The sudden knock on your door had you recoil and drop your pencil. Expecting your landlord, you swung open the door. 

Jayce stared at you, at your dishevelled hair and the state of your clothes, before he peeked behind your shoulder to see the mess in your apartment. Papers tossed on the floor, clothes piled up on your bed, spoiled food on your table. He hadn't seen anyone so... pitiful. 

"Can I help you?" Your monotonous voice sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard.

"I just wanted to check on you. Y/N, what happened?"

"Ask your partner." Venom dripped down your tongue as you closed the door, only for Jayce to stop it with his foot.

"Please, let's just talk."

"Why?" 

"That's what friends do!" His warm smile was supposed to offer you comfort, but it only offered you hate.

"We're not friends, Mr. Talis." You tried to close the door again, catching his fingers in the doorframe. The sudden shriek of pain made you violently open it, eyes wide at Jayce who was on the verge of tears. "I am so sorry, I didn't think you'd put your bloody fingers in the way!"

Ushering him inside your apartment, you kicked away the piles of clothes from the chair and sat him down. He winced, watching his fingers slowly turn purple and swollen.

"It's alright, it's nothing." His voice cracked like some prepubescent teenager, and you ran a handkerchief under cold water then gave it to him.

"I'm really sorry, Jayce."

"Aha! You used my name! Ow, shit."

You tried to stifle the chuckle that erupted from your throat, but to no avail. He managed to make you laugh, but the sweetness turned sour.

"Why are you really here?" You asked, avoiding his gaze.

"I told you, I wanted to check on you. And to ask you something."

There it was, the true reason.

"How did you do it?"

"Dunno what you're talking about." You shrugged. 

"That portrait, it somehow stopped Viktor's affliction from advancing. It's not regressing by any means, but it's keeping him in a stable condition, and I can't explain why. No one can." His forehead creased, unable to find a scientific reason.

"Maybe he got lucky." You simply said.

"Don't be modest, he told me you put some kind of magical rune in it." Jayce scoffed. 

"He spoke about me?" Was all you could think about.

"Yes, but you need to tell me how you did it."

You sighed. His scientific brain could never comprehend the intricacies of magic, the elegant enchantments, or the intuitive spellwork, but you tried your best.

"The Academy of Arts in Ionia trains artists to incorporate spells, runes and sigils into their work. Some can bring their paintings to life, others can use them to deal damage." You looked behind Jayce at the blank canvas. "I can heal. Sort of."

"That's fascinating!" He beamed at you like a child who just got a new toy. "So why didn't you fully heal Viktor?

"Ah, but what would life be if all our problems disappeared? We're all the product of our experiences, aren't we?" You mused. "I can't heal illnesses if people were born with them, I can merely hinder them, stop them from advancing, because even ailments serve a purpose. Would Viktor had become the scientist that he is without his condition?" You quirked a brow, and Jayce frowned, not in anger but in contemplation. 

"So, you could heal my fingers, then, yes?" He nodded, but you sighed again. It was something you found yourself doing quite often.

"I haven't touched a pencil in weeks. I'm useless, as you can probably tell from the state of my apartment."

"Why? Because you don't have a muse?" Jayce asked, and you nodded. "That's bullshit."

"Excuse you?" Your words came out a lot more condescending than you wanted.

"I said it's bullshit. You're a damn artist, you find beauty where others don't. You don't need a muse for that." He scoffed.

"It's not that simple-"

"It is! Science and art are not that different, Y/N! They're both attempts to comprehend the world around us. They require research, analytical processes, resilience. Not a muse." Jayce picked up a sheet of paper and a piece of coal and slammed them on the table. "Draw my hand."

You stared at him, dumbfounded by the sheer willpower that this man had. No wonder he was an innovator. You could've kicked him out of your house, shut the door and never look back, but you didn't. Picking up the coal, you studied his hand first — the length of his fingers, width of his palm, the swirls of his fingerprints. Then, you let the coal glide down the paper, tracing lines, smudging them with your index finger and thumb. Your own fingers were sore from the lack of practice, but you sketched his hand nonetheless, and just as you did with Viktor's portrait, you scribbled a rune in the corner of the paper.

Showing Jayce the sketch, he could feel his numb fingers return to their normal size, the black and blue disappearing by the minute. He knew you could do it, you just needed a little push.

"See, that wasn't so hard." Jayce grinned, but you stared daggers at him. "Oh, before I go, Mel wanted you to have this." He reached into the inner pocket of his cream jacket and handed you an envelope. 

"What's this?"

"An invitation. I hope to see you soon." 

You locked the door after he was gone and studied the wax sigil on the envelope. Red and golden, with the head of a wolf embedded in it. It was too beautiful to tear it open, but curiosity got the better of you, and you used a knife to cut open the envelope, not wanting to ruin the sigil.

Just as Jayce said, it was an invitation to a fundraiser. All of Piltover's finest would be there, and you were asked to attend as a guest of honour, to be appointed the Master of Arts, the head of Piltover's Guild of Artists. Disbelief settled in your mind, despite rereading the same words, over and over again. Every councillor agreed to that, you could tell from their signatures. But you haven't painted in weeks, so how could you represent all the artists in the city? You were a hypocrite at best, a failure at worst. 

And yet, you were chosen for that. Not your colleagues, not someone from the Academy — you. Did you need to prepare a speech? Bloody hell, you did. No one went up that stage without delivering one. But there was time, the fundraiser was only in a few weeks, right? Wrong. Your eyes scanned the words once more — it was three days away. Panic seeped into your veins. You had no dress, no shoes, no speech, no muse.

No, fuck the muse. Fuck Viktor. 

You were still bitter about the last conversation you exchanged with him, but you couldn't throw away such an opportunity, such an honour, for some guy. A very handsome, very clever guy, but still a guy nonetheless. No, Jayce was right — you didn't need a muse. You didn't have one in Ionia, didn't have one when you taught yourself how to draw and paint. You were your own muse. And you needed a damn good dress to impress. 

Forcing yourself to clean the mess in your apartment was easy. But showering and going out wasn't, not when the probability of bumping into Viktor was there. A slim chance, but not impossible, and you couldn’t afford to get distracted. You wrecked your brain trying to remember his schedule, because he never deviated from it. Thursday — he would have a doctor's appointment in the morning, then he would have lunch, and go to the lab. Or was it the other way around?

"Ugh!" You kicked the foot of your bed in anger and disgust. You were disgusted with yourself for even sparing him a single thought — the man who insulted you and your work.

So what if you bumped into him? He wasn't going to talk you, anyway, he made that quite clear when he didn't even say goodbye to you. Ungrateful fucking prick. No more. No more wallowing in self-pity, no more victimisation, no more emotion. How foolish of you to even think he'd see you as more than some dumb painter, that you were his equal in any way, shape or form. It was a facade, a mask, playing the innocent sick man when behind that mask was a god complex.

You found a dress, purple and golden. It reminded you of Viktor, but how else were you supposed to get over him if not by proudly wearing the colours of the enemy? Were you overreacting? Perhaps. Too dramatic? Definitely, but it helped process the pain attached to those stupid colours. Spending time to write a speech also helped take your mind off of him. It gave you a purpose, something you thought was lost.

There was one thing you didn't like about the dress — it was too modest. And while it wasn't a gathering of prudes, you wanted to find the perfect mix of elegance and vulgarity. Studying the dress that was hanging on an iron hook on the back of your bathroom door, you grabbed a pair of scissors and cut a slit up its side. You wanted to stop at knee's length, but something possessed you to cut higher, stopping well above the knee. Was it too much? Maybe, but you were about to become leader of an entire guild, and you needed to look your best. Besides, the thought of hooking up with someone at the fundraiser didn't sound so bad. You had needs after all, and you were going to satisfy them.

"There she is!" Jayce spotted you through the crowd of people, with Mel's arm looped around his.

You were glad that they were officially together. Too long they played pretend. You greeted them, deciding to be their third wheel since you didn't know that many people there. The life of an artist was quite lonely.

"I'm so glad you accepted my invitation." Councillor Medarda smiled. She seemed happier, and you wondered what it was like to have someone who made you laugh, who supported you and your work.

"It's an honour, Councillor. An unexpected one, I'll be honest." You quickly snatched a glass of champagne from a waiter. "But I've had something on my mind since I received your invitation. What exactly is the fundraiser about? The letter didn't mention anything."

"Ah, I must have forgotten to write that down." She scoffed. "The University of Piltover has decided to create a new department of arts and science combined."

"Oh, that is intriguing." You pondered the innovative idea. "How will that work?"

"Well, Jayce has been inspired by your talent. He believes that there are plenty of future students with the potential of incorporating both arts and science in their work." Mel said. "He'll explain more in the following days, but for now, enjoy the event."

"Thank you, Councillor." You nodded with a smile. "Are you alright, Jayce? You look impatient."

"Yeah, I'm just keeping an eye on the entrance. Viktor should be here soon." He nonchalantly said.

"Sorry? Viktor?" The smile disappeared from your lips as quickly as it appeared. 

"Oh, I didn't tell you?" Jayce avoided looking into your eyes, fearing for his life. He could feel you seething at the mere mention of Viktor's name.

"No. No, you didn't fucking tell me." You whispered the obscene word, not wanting to draw any attention. "What else haven't you told me?"

"Well, um-" He fumbled for words, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. 

"Spit it out, Talis."

"You'll be working together."

"What? We'll be what?" You couldn't believe the words that came out of his mouth. And it didn't help that you heard his familiar voice and thick accent creeping behind your back.

"Good evening, Jayce. Councillor." Viktor greeted them, but you couldn't turn around. You couldn't face him.

So much for being tough. Your heart was beating against your ribcage, desperately trying to crawl out of your chest and run away from him. The pit in your stomach made you sick — you could actually taste bile on your tongue, and the champagne glass slowly slipped from your fingers as your palms became clammy with sweat. Not even the exams in Ionia made you feel as panicked as he did. But you were a grown woman. You couldn't let him put you down like that.

"Viktor." You articulated his name without an ounce of anxiety in your voice, then turned around to look at him.

You were pleased to see he was just as shocked to see you there as you were to see him — even more shocked to see you dressed so differently than how he remembered. Good. The bastard needed a reminder that you weren't a coward, nor a prude. And it made you consider that he also didn't know you two would be working together. How convenient for you.

"Miss Painter." Venom dripped down his tongue. How dare he be affected by your presence? "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He didn't know. You thanked your stars for that. A shit-eating grin crept on your lips, and just as Jayce was about to open his mouth, you said it.

"Oh, you didn't know? We'll be working together. I'm absolutely thrilled!" You lied through your teeth and Jayce slowly turned his head to glare at you. A minute ago, you looked like you were about to have a heart attack, now you were thrilled to work with him?

"How utterly... terrific." Viktor forced a smile. "No, I didn't know. Jayce, a word?"

"No need, I'll leave you to it. Gentlemen, Councillor." You nodded and stepped away, blending with the crowd, eyes set on some poor man who was about to be your distraction for the night.

His name was Alfred, or Arthur. Something with an A. It didn't matter. He was good looking, with broad shoulders and much taller than you. But he talked. A lot. You politely nodded at everything he said, trying to keep up with the conversation, but anything he said fell on deaf ears. You weren't interested in him, not after seeing Viktor, who looked much better than last time, healthier. He went so far as to adjust his cane to look similar to the one in your portrait — the fucking hypocrite. And even the suit he was wearing was purple. You matched, and your stomach churned at that epiphany. What if people thought you were together?

You rolled your eyes when Arthur, or Alfred, spoke about how ridiculous the idea of combining science and arts was. The desire to pour your champagne in his lap was great, but your self-restraint was greater. Somehow. Paying him no mind, you dissociated, daydreaming of being in your atelier and working on a new painting, of buying new materials, new canvases. Yes, that was much better than listening to Alfred, or Arthur, yap about something his small brain couldn't comprehend. 

Even amongst hundreds of people, Viktor only saw you, and the thousand-yard stare on your face. You were quite obviously bored, and there was an impulse, an instinct to go and save you from the dull conversation that you weren't even a part of. But he couldn't. Deep down, Viktor knew he might have overreacted when he last saw you, but you made it quite clear that you wanted nothing to do with him, and he respected that. It pained him, because he grew used to your presence in the lab, but what could he do? 

He found it comforting that you wore the colours of his suit — of his portrait. It gave him hope that maybe, just maybe, there was a minuscule possibility that you weren't upset with him anymore. But Viktor wasn't an idiot. He knew all too well that the wrath of a woman scorned wasn't something that passed so easily. And he felt the spite in your voice when you blatantly lied about being thrilled to work with him. Oh, right, he forgot about that when he got lost in your eyes, even from across the ballroom. 

How were you going to work together when neither of you wanted that? Surely you could set aside any grudges, he thought. But could he? While the portrait did hinder his illness, Viktor still assumed that you weren't serious about him being your model. Your muse, even. How could someone like him be the object of your artistic desire? No, that was improbable. Impossible. 

"And that's when I said what do you call a woman who has lost 95% of her intelligence? Divorced!" Arthur, or Alfred, slapped his knee, laughing at his own sexist joke, and that was enough for you to regret your decision of approaching him.

"Excuse me, I'm going for some fresh air." You walked away from him as fast as you could.

Stepping out on the balcony, you shivered when the cool air kissed your skin. A coat would've been smarter than a slit in your dress, but freezing to death was better than hearing one more fucking joke about women. You just hoped Alfred, or Arthur, or whatever the fuck his name was, wasn't going to come looking for you. Leaning on the handrail, you sighed. What were you going to do? How were you going to work with Viktor for an indefinite amount of time? There was so much uncertainty about the future, and it scared you. The responsibilities of leading a guild scared you. The changes in your routine scared you. The idea of working with someone who hated you scared you.

The speech! You forgot about the blasted speech, and you ran back inside at the right time. Councillor Shoola invited you on the stage just as you entered the ballroom, and with a fake smile and complaisant nods, you walked up the few steps, blinded by the lights directed on you. Shoola shook your hand, and awarded you with a silver pin — a symbol of your new status as Guild Leader. The amount of people staring at you was overwhelming, but you took a deep breath in and adjusted microphone on the stand. When you looked down at your hands, you were surprised to find them empty. Where were the cards you had prepared? Where was your speech?

Then you remembered the balcony. You had forgotten the cards outside. Shit. Fuck. No matter, you could improvise. Even if your throat was dry, and your legs were numb, you could improvise. You did that before, plenty of times. But the hundreds of eyes that stared into your soul made it impossible to think, to breathe, to exist.

Um, good evening, everyone." You started, eyes narrowed down on Mel, who nodded in encouragement. Licking your chapped lips, you continued. "It brings me great honour to stand here in front of you..." Cringing at the crack in your voice, you found Jayce, who beamed at you, like he always did. That gave you a bit more hope. "...as the new Master of Arts."

You couldn't do this. 

They weren't looking at you, they were looking inside of you. They could see every fibre of your body, every imperfection, every weakness. You tried closing your eyes and pretending they weren't there, but when you opened them, it was worse. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you tried to steady your breathing, to stop yourself from hyperventilating. 

A pair of soft amber eyes found yours, and you couldn’t believe how calming they were. Even after the fiasco that was your meeting with Viktor, you still found inspiration in him, and that offended you. 

"We are here to celebrate a marriage." You spoke with newfound confidence stemming from sheer anger. "A marriage between science and art. A sacred union that some find ridiculous, others impossible. I find it a splendid symbiosis of reason and emotion. Too long art and science have mutually excluded each other, and while they both individually progressed immeasurably, their union has the potential to break boundaries, to make new discoveries, to bring people together. I will proudly represent the Guild of Artists in this new and fascinating adventure. Thank you, Councillors, for the distinction bestowed upon me. Thank you to Professor Heimerdinger for allowing this journey to happen. And thank you to everyone who believes in this pursuit of knowledge."

[yeet-me-dad-dy]

The Arcane - Chapter Three - Blood and Bone

Summary: It's time for Viktor's first proper visit with his new doctor.

Characters: Viktor x Male Reader (Doctor Raven) x Jayce (eventually)

Warnings: Blood, needles

Words: 1,638

Viktor returned to the lab by noon, his approach heralded by the gentle click, click, click of his cane as he walked. With your exceptional senses, you could hear him exit the elevator and make his way down the hall. His footsteps, his breath, his gentle heartbeat…

The lab door opened with a hiss, and you turned to greet him with a smile. The heavy bags beneath his eyes were still dark, but his eyes themselves shone just a bit brighter. He’d also showered and changed his clothes, by the look of things.

“Afternoon, Viktor.”

“Doctor,” he nodded.

You invited him to sit in the chair near the chalkboard, where you would take a few samples of his blood.

“Sleep okay?” you asked as he sat heavily and you gathered your equipment.

“Well enough, with a mind as busy as mine.”

You chuckled. “I know what that’s like. Did you find something to eat?”

“Yes, an apple. To keep the doctor away,” he smirked.

The corner of your mouth twitched up into a smile.

You set your supplies out on a little metal table and rolled it and a chair of your own over to Viktor.

“Do you want to keep me away, Viktor?” you asked as he offered his arm to you.

He thought for a moment before replying with a soft, “no”.

“I would certainly hope not,” you smiled softly. “I would miss your company.”

“Already?” he asked sarcastically as he watched his blood fill a vial. “But we barely know each other, doctor.”

“All the same,” you chuckled.

A crease formed between your brow as you switched the first vial out to fill a second.

“Your blood is a strange color. Almost purple.”

“I noticed.”

You hummed, thoughtful.

“Do you have your medical records?” you asked.

“No, but you may be able to get them from my previous doctor.”

“And where is he?”

“The Undercity.”

You paused and looked up at him.

“The Undercity?”

He nodded.

“He was the closest to home.”

“I see…”

You didn’t realize that he was from the Undercity. It didn’t make a difference, but it could explain some things.

“Where in the Undercity?” you asked, as you finished up the second vial and hooked on a third.

“Mmm, I’d have to show you.”

“Would you?” you asked.

“Sure,” he nodded. “We can go after we’re finished here.”

“No,” you said, perhaps a little too hastily.

He tilted his head, curious.

“I can’t go during the day…”

He regarded the heavy curtains drawn over the big windows. His eyes went wide with realization.

“The sun.”

You nodded and unhooked the third vial, then removed the needle from his arm and pressed a cotton ball to the site. Instinctually, he held it in place while you grabbed the bandage.

“So vampires really do turn to ash in the sunlight, then?”

“Not immediately, but yes.”

You wrapped up his arm, disposed of the needles and your gloves, gathered the vials of his blood, and took them to each of their testing stations.

“The sunlight burns, quite literally,” you explained. “It’s more than a sunburn. Only a few moments in the sun can put me out of commission for quite some time.”

“There is so much misinformation surrounding your kind, I wasn’t sure if that one was true.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

"UV sensitivity... interesting..." he mused.

He was as curious about you as you were about him. There was a brief lull in the conversation while you scribbled some notes in his file and he considered your unique "condition".

“I would like to do a physical examination, if you don’t mind,” you said finally. “To make sure you’re in good health otherwise.”

“Of course,” he agreed.

You asked him to remove his shirt, and turned around to locate the stethoscope. When you turned back with the device in hand, you were caught off guard by the metal corset covering most of his torso.

“Does that come off?” you asked.

"With a bit of difficulty, yes."

He stood while you helped him remove the corset, and then took a moment to get a good look at his crooked spine. You ran your fingers gently over it, tracing the curve. What he was currently wearing was keeping it from bending any more, but it wouldn't fix the problem. You, however, might be able to. With his help, of course.

"You need something better than this," you told him.

"I... have been working on a design," he told you hesitantly. "A brace that will bolt to my spine, with a removable chest piece. But I would need a doctor to perform the surgery to put it in place."

"I can perform that surgery," you said as you gestured for him to sit back down and pressed the stethoscope against his chest.

You didn't actually need the stethoscope in order to hear his heart and lungs, but it was helpful at pinpointing certain sounds in certain locations.

“Deep breath,” you ordered him, and he obliged. “Another.”

He didn’t like the tone in your voice. Soft, but mixed with concern. You moved behind him to listen.

“One more.”

When you finished listening, you moved away to scribble more notes. He waited patiently.

“Your heart and circulation sound good,” you began, leaning back against the blank chalkboard.

“I sense a ‘but’ coming on.”

“Your lungs don’t,” you said plainly.

He nodded.

“They don’t feel great either.”

As if on queue, he wheezed out a cough.

“You grew up in the Undercity?” you asked. “What is the air like down there?”

He scoffed.

“I grew up near the fissures. ‘Toxic’ is the only appropriate word.”

You cast your gaze downward, and a cold chill crept up Viktor’s spine. And then you were in your chair in front of him again, gazing at him with those deep ruby eyes. You rested your hand gently on his knee.

“I am your doctor, Viktor. My specialty may be blood, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have the skills required to tend to the rest of your needs. I’ve spent the better part of my six-hundred years studying medicine, I’m going to do everything I can, use everything I’ve learned, to help you feel better.”

He was caught off guard by your conviction and the intensity of your gaze.

“I… I know you will, Doctor.”

“Good,” you smiled, and hopped to your feet, and he couldn’t help but notice just the slightest jerk in your hip, as if moving caused you pain. You didn’t pay it any mind, however, so it was an observation that he silently filed away for later.

“Can I take a look at your leg?” you asked.

“Of course.”

You averted your gaze while he stripped down to his underwear. There was a small bed on the opposite wall, and from it, you handed him a soft blanket, blue one one side, red on the other. He placed it in his lap. It wasn’t a hospital gown, but it was better than nothing. Your touch was gentle as you felt around his leg, cold fingers ghosting over his skin. He shivered.

“Sorry,” you chuckled. “Probably should have put gloves on.”

“It’s alright.”

You felt each side of his knee, and then asked him to slowly extend his leg, feeling for the movement of tendon, muscle, and bone beneath the skin. You checked his ankle and toes as well, and then asked him to stand so you could check his hip. He left the blanket on his chair and stood before you. You wheeled your own chair around to his side, and he jerked slightly when your hands found him again. He was used to this kind of treatment after a lifetime of doctor’s visits. But this was different. Your touch was firm, but gentle. Caring. He had felt like a burden with his previous doctor, who had terrible bedside manner. With you, though… You touched him like he was made of porcelain.

Your hand drifted backward slightly, and you squeezed, just a bit, as you asked him to rock his leg backward. Then, it traveled forward, in the crease between his inner thigh and crotch. He held his breath as he gently swung his leg forward. And then your touch was gone and you were rising from your chair. You leaned past him, so close, to grab the blanket and return it to him. Your scent lingered when you walked away. You scribbled some more notes as he sat back down, and he found the sound surprisingly comforting.

“I need to get some scans,” you said. “Your lungs, spine, and leg. But we don’t have the equipment for that here, so I’m going to have to consult with someone at the hospital. While we’re waiting for them, I’ll work on your blood. Oh, and your leg could use a brace as well. If you fell like taking on some homework, you could design yourself one.”

He hummed thoughtfully, and you turned back to see him huddled up in the blanket.

“Oh, uh… Sorry,” you chuckled. “You can get dressed.”

He would have offered a snappy comeback, something about liking seeing him with no clothes on, but he was distracted. His skin felt like it was buzzing everywhere you’d touched him. Wordlessly, he got dressed while you organized the newest notes into their place in his file. He noticed the way your gaze flicked toward him every now and again. You couldn’t help it. You found him infinitely fascinating, not because of his blood or his bones or his fancy mechanical braces, but because he was him. Because he was Viktor. Handsome, kind, brilliant Viktor.

“These tests will take some time,” you told him. “I expect Heimerdinger will need you to get back to work, but, if you ever need to come into the lab, for anything at all, you’re more than welcome. The door will remain unlocked.”

He smiled as he finished buttoning up his vest.

“Thank you, Doctor. Your kindness is much appreciated.”

“Of course.”

He lingered for only a moment before turning to leave. The door opened with a hiss, but your voice stopped him.

“Oh, and Viktor?”

“Hmm?”

You smiled.

“Have some lunch. Doctor's orders.”

[wayfaringstrangxr]

🛏️ (from Mel to Jayce)

send 🛏️ for my  muse’s reaction to yours crawling into bed with them ( add reverse for my muse crawling into bed with yours ! ) @rntr-testinggrounds

He was dreaming about that day again, it was almost like if the cold reached his body outside the dream, as if it would freeze it all, forever. And when his throat couldn't stand another scream for help, the sky cleared, the snow storm was pushed away and the sun brought warmth to his cold skin. The same smile that appeared on his dream, could also be seen as Mel approach him.

Unconsciously he opened his arms for her to lay on his chest, while in his dream, flower started to bloom amidst the melting snow.

[glcwbitch]

                             so   ,   i   may   have   done   a   thing   .   under   the   cut   will   be   some   test   muses   that   i'd   like   to   try   out   !   like   for   a   one   liner   &   i'll   come   to   you   for   whomst   !   

    (   saint   hammam   .   kingpin   .   twenty8   .   ) emilio   sakraya   . 

    (   jayce   murphy   .   pre-law   student   .   twenty4   .   ) milo   manheim   .   

    (   paloma   solís   .   nail   tech   .   twenty3   .   ) nikki   rodriguez   .   

    (   greer   ahn   .   thrift   store   employee   .   twenty5   .   ) song   mingi   . 

     (   benicio   souza   .   winery   &   vineyard   owner   .   thirty2   .   ) chay   suede   .   

    (   rhyan   barrett   .   pediatric   nurse   .   twenty6   .   ) madison   beer   .   

    (   felix   hewson   .   pharmaceutical   science   student   &   dispensary   employee   .   twenty5   .   ) robert   keating   .   

     (   myles   parish   .   adult   shop   employee   .   twenty6   .   ) owen   teague   .   

    (   chanel   de'loughrey   .   house   sitter.   twenty7   .   ) brittany   o’grady   . 

     (   amiyah   pinnock   .   fashion   content   creator   .   twenty6   .   ) coco   jones   .   

    (   lars   visser   .   amateur   game   developer   .   twenty4   .   ) zethphan   smith   gneist   . 

[reverbz]

                              test muse! jayce demaury. twenty9 y/o blackjack dealer + pickpocket thief ( as well as an off brand and off licensed therapist for tenses of this starter <3 ). him / they pronouns & pansexual.

                              open to: nb / m / f

                              ❛ i'm not one to lecture , talk down to a friend. i don't mean to pressure , mean to condescend. but i just want what's best for you in the end , i know you don't want to let go. ❜

[boysofprogress]

𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐆𝐎, 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄 ... ... ...

ind  /  sel  /  priv  MULTIMUSE  WRITING  BLOG  feat.  JAYCE TALIS and VIKTOR  from  riot games' ARCANE  —  lovingly  portrayed  by  bean & est. dec 2024.  multiverse  &  multiship. primarily headcanon based & canon divergent. mature  themes  present  ;  MINORS  DNI.  interactions with league muses & ocs welcome , but muses with an arcane verse heavily preferred. blog  is  low-to-moderate  activity  operating  on  pacific  standard  time.

iconless ( for now ) & dash only. rules can temporarily be found here until i have a carrd up and running !!

now testing : silco

an examination of : that sacred place where science and magic meet / the pursuit of knowledge and discovery / loyalty to a fault / themes of platonic , romantic, and familial love / greater purpose & destiny / blind ambition / death & resurrection

psd: x ; banner: x

[mxchineherald]

[@wayfaringstrangxr asked :: "hand : one muse offers the other a hand to help them stand up Caitlyn knows his disease is worsening, she visits him at the lab sometimes, to check on him."][ask meme here.]

 It was time to check on the results of a test, though up until then he had been distracted by the presence of his partner’s little sister, Caitlyn, who had dropped by the lab to see how things were progressing. He knew it was an excuse to come check on him, as she often did now that his health was taking a downward turn, but it still led to a pleasant conversation, regardless. The scientist had been balancing it with writing down notes from a recent meeting Jayce had with Heimerdinger, mentioning things that his partner would need to bring up next time, and questions he needed to ask. Putting down his pencil, he made to stand, though his leg had grown sleepy in its relative inactivity.

 He winced just barely, flopping to sit back down with a huff. That was when he saw a hand in his eyeline, presented to him without fuss or pity. He followed it back up to the face of its owner, a faint smile coming to his lips at the gesture. Most anyone else outside of Jayce, Sky, and her, and they would have gotten a sour look and refusal, but instead, his hand slipped into hers and held firm as he pushed himself up with her aid. Only a small grunt was the price of their combined efforts, and he put his crutch under his arm to finish the motion. “Thank you, Caitlyn,” he said softly. “I’m afraid my leg likes to ‘nap on the job’.” It was not a phrase in his native tongue, but he had heard Jayce use it on occasion in jest.

[vale-decem]

A LOW ACTIVITY + MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE MULTI MUSE BLOG, EXPLORING AND TESTING CHARACTERS ACROSS VARIOUS FANDOMS. WRITTEN BY FRANKIE, 24, SHE/HER. PRIMARILY FOUND ON JANE IVES. PLEASE ONLY FOLLOW IF YOU ARE GENUINELY INTERESTED IN INTERACTING.

[ BLOG LINKS: CARRD. INBOX. INTEREST TRACKER. PINTEREST. ]

HIGHEST MUSES AS OF DECEMBER: VIKTOR, JAYCE TALIS, THE DOCTOR (ONE & ELEVEN), DRUSILLA KEEBLE, RILEY FINN, FRANKIE STEIN, SOPHIE BONE.

[elegancemultimuse]

Closed  || @mctteldolls​ (Vinessa) 

This whole fake relationship had started when Jayce’s mother had kept insisting over and over again that she needed to set him up with people. He’d asked Vinessa to help him by pretending to be his girlfriend. Which of course would have ended up fine if everyone hadn’t found out about their supposed relationship and they hadn’t had to have kept it going for months now. At some point he had actually gotten feelings for her, and that was the scary thing. “So I was thinking, maybe we should go to that party together. What do you think?” 

[arcanacontained]

[Mapped out Directions] - Mobile Navigation 📱 ((Currently being reworked 15/12/24))

[Shuffle the Deck] - Rules

About the Mun:

Charlie, 30+, she/her.

I am neurodivergent and have physical disabilities so my focus might be hit and miss at times.

I work full-time, I write role play in my free time so activity may be sporadic.

I have 11 years worth of role playing experience under my belt and have been writing for the best part of 20 years.

My squicks that are goats, needles (primarily IV and IO), wasps, bees, spiders.

The mun tag is: out of arcane; dealer (mun).

Tracking the tag: arcanacontained

Some of my OC muses I have had for a long time. I have been on Tumblr itself since 2013, across multiple fandoms. Some have been friendly and welcoming whilst, others have been toxic and a mess I no longer want to associate with. So far the Arcane/LOL role play community has been welcoming.

Rules:

Disabilities, trauma and mental illness will be discussed as themes during role play threads. If you have any triggers around these or other topics please let me know ahead of time. I will always reads others’ rules.

As above - I am over 30, therefore I feel uncomfortable with interacting with minors. If you are under 18, I this is not the blog for you.

TERFS, homophobias etc do not interact.

No god-modding or meta-gaming.

I haven’t roleplayed in a while, for about 2-3 years due the pandemic being a thing and Tumblr was put on the back burner until life stabilised. So I apologise if some of my role play knowledge or etiquette has gone out of the window.

I am primarily familiar with Arcane but am reading up on the relevant Champion backstories and other information on the League website. I have never played the game itself. Character canon will follow Arcane and may have some current League of Legends influences. (Update 15 December 2024: I am aware Arcane is supposedly the "main" canon, but will try

This blog is unlikely to be spoiler free, as the fate of the characters currently hangs in the balance at the end of episode 9.

As of writing - Jayce, Viktor and Warwick are tests muses, as this is the first time I have written them.

I have put some of my muses on low activity for the sake of my mental health. Which muses are on high or low activity might change without warning.

Please read a muse’s biography before interacting with them.

I would prefer to plot threads. Askbox prompts are accepted - but do not reblog asks as a thread starter. Please use text posts as thread starters.

I write in third person, past tense with normal formatting. As I don’t have the time I won’t be using icons in threads. A muse’s face claim (if relevant) will be stated in their biography.

Mutuals only please, this is for my own mental health so I know who is who.

Please may asks be kept for in-character interactions between muses. Likewise direct messaging is for discussion, plotting and general chatting between muns.

[Current Hand] - Muses

Number [Card] Name • Epithet.

Blue, OC muse. Red, Canon muse. Purple, Test muse. Active Muse, Low Activity Muse, Inactive Muse, Empty Slot

[THE MAGICIAN] Viktor • The Machine Herald || Information Post || Interaction Call

[JUSTICE] Jayce Talis • The Defender of Tomorrow || Information Post || Interaction Call

[DEATH] Warwick • The Uncaged Wrath of Zaun || Information Post || Interaction Call

[THE STAR] Rio • The Shimmering Piximander of Zaun || Information Post || Interaction Call

[elegancemultimuse]

"It's the endless cycle. The worst part is, I can't see it getting any better." Paisley said as she doubted things would change. Future generations weren't going to stand a chance. The whole situation was a huge mess. "I should have invested in the housing market as soon as I left the womb, apparently."

❝ Renting makes it harder to buy a place because you can’t save money so I completely get it. ❞ He stated as he wished that rent was only a couple hundred dollars to have freedom but then to also be able to save so that he could just buy something and have his foot in the door to start his life. ❝ It is criminal. I mean just look at it. ❞ He lightly chuckled with a half nod to his head.

[wayfaringstrangxr]

♡ (to Kayn)

♡ (Mel to Jayce)

Kayn (their canon verse)

●●●●● | ATTRACTION ●●●○○ | AFFECTION ●●●●○ | INTEREST ●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●+ | LOYALTY ●●●●● | TRUST

Jayce and Mel

●●●●● | ATTRACTION ●●●●● | AFFECTION ●●●●● | INTEREST ●●●●● | LOYALTY ●●●●● | TRUST

[zaunitelizard]

I am setting up a multi-muse blog on it's own account.

This is all my OCs I have had on Tumblr since starting my first OC in 2013. Some I have merged due to not having much substance/backstory on their own; but they have all been adjusted to be Arcane/League of Legends muses.

As some of the role play fandoms I have been in over the past decade have been exceedingly toxic to point where I've felt ostracised (abusive anons telling me to k**l myself was the least of it).

So far, I have felt safe in the Arcane/League of Legends role play community, despite only being here for 1 month.

In addition to my OCs, I am going to have Jayce, Viktor and Warwick as test muses. I am interested in writing them, but have no clue if I would be any good at them.