#the Jayce will understand to i have to experiment on my own body with controlled substances pipeline

[eeboor]

I just remembered that the time Jayce was mad as fuck hissing at viktor do you know how bad this looks? my partner, disrespecting my own blockade? Was also the time when said partner was actually genuinely smuggling an illegal drug across said blockade. Like jayce was out of line here but that was a thing that very much did happen lmfao

[kirammanswifey]

I gotta say you're one of my favourite writers as of late and I've been re reading all your work over and over again on my trips to college, like ot just scratches my brain so so wonderfully 😩😩

Would you be open to write them Arcane characters and fem!reader's sleeping arrangements? Like who cuddles who, who has matching pyjamas, who reads in bed

arcane characters' sleeping arrangements x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: i missed this so much, i haven't updated for a week, college is eating me alive, literally. hope you liked this dynamic, my favorite was ekko's, lately this man has snuck into my heart. as you already know request are open ;)

Viktor

The room is wrapped in a soft, relaxing atmosphere. The warm light from the desk lamp dimly illuminates the walls, and the sound of rain outside the window adds a layer of tranquility to the space. Viktor is by your side, and for a moment, you can see something few people ever have the privilege of seeing: his vulnerability.

It’s curious how, in his world full of inventions, calculations, and scientific advancements, there’s something so basic as the need for someone close to him that seems to overflow from the rigid facade he usually wears. You’re there, in bed, reading a book or simply listening to the rain when he suddenly drops his notebook next to him and turns toward you.

"It’s strange... I never imagined I could feel so... calm," he says softly, as if evaluating his own feelings. He, the man who has devoted his life to science, to logic, somehow can’t explain how your presence makes him feel something he’s never experienced before. You try not to show it, but the tone of his voice reaches your heart.

Little by little, he approaches, moving cautiously, as if every gesture were a meditation. He doesn’t make abrupt moves. His hands, usually cold from being surrounded by machinery, are now gentle when they touch the side of your arm. It’s a timid touch, almost as if he fears invading your space. But you understand, because you know that, inside, he still struggles to trust these simple, human moments.

"Is it alright if...?" He doesn’t finish the sentence. Instead, he lets the silence ask everything. His eyes, somewhat tired but filled with a serenity only you can provoke, look at you with a mix of desire and fear. It’s a constant game of insecurity in his mind: Should he get closer? Would he make you uncomfortable if he does? But there’s no need for words between the two of you, just the silent language of gestures. You, as always, understand without explanations.

Without saying anything, you move toward him, allowing your body to communicate what words cannot. Viktor sighs in relief, his shoulders relaxing, and once he’s next to you, he settles in, making sure not to invade your personal space completely. His fingers, without thinking, search for your hands and gently interlace them, almost as if it were an automatic act.

"How can you be so close to me without...?" His words fade into the air as your eyes meet his. He doesn’t need to say more; you know he’s acknowledging what he’s never been able to admit: the fear of closeness. The fear of losing control, of losing you. But in that moment, the only thing that matters to him is being close to you.

"It’s just a touch, Viktor," you murmur, with a soft smile. Your tone is calm, without hurry, with the same tranquility he needs. And without thinking, he pulls you a little closer, letting the distance that has always existed between the two of you fade away. His breathing becomes slower, as if simply having you close gives him a sense of peace that nothing else has provided.

"I need you here," he murmurs, more to himself than to you, as if the idea of having you near is an anchor for his constantly occupied mind, always worried about the next breakthrough, the next experiment. But not today. Today, he only needs you.

As you both settle into the bed, a light draft of cold air enters through the window, but Viktor, almost instinctively, makes sure the blanket covers both of you. In his eyes, there’s a sense of protection, of wanting to take care of you even without saying it. As he settles in, his fingers find your hair, caressing it gently, feeling the texture, as if each movement were a way to calm himself.

At first, he stays still, focused on the sound of your breathing, on how your body relaxes in his arms. But as the minutes pass, he begins to lose himself in the warmth of your closeness. His hand moves to your waist, seeking not just physical warmth, but a little emotional comfort as well. Those small gestures, which for him seem simple, carry much more weight: he’s letting you in.

"I never thought something so simple could mean so much," he says, almost in a whisper. It’s such a simple comment, but it’s laden with emotion. A moment when science and logic fade away, and all that remains is human connection, the bond that is built over time.

Minutes turn into hours. Viktor, finally, falls into a deep sleep, his body slightly tilted toward you. He had always been the one willing to give everything for the future, for Piltover, for science. But that night, the future doesn’t matter as much. What matters is what’s in front of him. And what’s in front of him is you, calmly resting in his arms.

When he wakes up, your eyes meet his, a slight blush on his cheeks. "Good morning," he says, as if this small act of waking up together were something incredibly grand. And, in a way, it is.

Jinx

The flickering light of the neon lamps gently trembles in the air as she, with her boundless energy, is in her world, completely immersed in whatever has caught her attention at that moment.

Sitting on the bed, Jinx shakes a strange object she just got, making "bang, bang" noises with her mouth while pointing it at the mirror, her reflection smiling back with that deranged grin you know so well. Suddenly, she throws you a defiant glance, as if challenging you to enter her chaotic world.

"Come on, aren't you going to say anything?! I'm a destruction machine, wooow!" She laughs hysterically, clearly enjoying the moment.

You, watching her, can't help but laugh too, though in a more calm way, feeling that mix of affection and concern for her. You know that behind that laugh and overflowing energy, there's something deeper, something that sometimes gets lost among the explosions of her inner chaos.

At first, you try to let her do her thing, but you know the night is already quite late, and Jinx is far from ready to sleep. The chaos continues to spread around her, and despite your desire to sleep, you know that if you don’t act, there will be no way for her to calm down. So you decide to approach.

"Hey, sweets," you say softly, your tone calm but firm. "Don’t you think it’s time to rest a bit?"

Jinx turns toward you, her eyes shining with excitement. "No, no! I’m not tired! I don’t need to sleep... Not until you find something as incredible as... this!" And in a burst, she jumps to the other side of the bed and starts spinning around like a child, throwing objects into the air.

You know you won’t convince her with words. You get up with a patient smile and quickly reach her. "You’ll have to put that down for a moment. I promise we’ll have all the fun you want tomorrow," you say, moving slowly to give her a gentle tap on the shoulder, trying to gain her attention in a softer way.

But Jinx doesn’t listen. She stops for a second, looks at you sideways, and throws another object, as if challenging your patience. "I don’t want tomorrow! I want everything to explode now!"

This is the moment when you know you need to be more than gentle. You approach her with a calm smile, but one full of determination, and take her hand. "Baby," you say, now looking directly into her eyes, "I know you like chaos, but you also need to rest. Would you like...?" You pause, the idea of calming both of you down seems almost unreal, but you know it's what she needs most. "If you cuddle here with me, maybe we could rest for a bit? Just a little while, so tomorrow you'll be full of energy for all your crazy ideas."

Jinx watches you for a moment, her eyes shining with something between doubt and curiosity. "You... with me?" The idea seems strange to her, but something in your soft tone makes her stop, her body relaxing for a second.

Without saying more, she slowly moves toward you, her energy suddenly calmed by your presence. "No... I’m not tired, but... I can try," she murmurs. It’s strange to see Jinx so vulnerable, her impulsive attitude and need for attention seemingly subdued for a moment.

You let her get closer, and the moment she settles by your side, you feel that overwhelming desire to take care of her. Jinx settles into the bed, seeking your closeness as if, in some way, your presence is her refuge. She quickly cuddles up to you, without thinking twice, searching for the warmth that, for some reason, only you can give her. The chaotic energy from before begins to slowly fade as she embraces you.

"Promise, okay?" she whispers, her voice softer now, a tone you haven’t heard all day. Jinx snuggles even closer, her head resting on your chest, searching for that peace she so desperately needs, even though she won’t admit it.

"Yes, promise," you respond, gently stroking her hair, feeling how her tension gradually dissipates. It’s curious how, amid all her chaos and madness, simply being there with her, the calm begins to emerge.

Jinx sighs, and in that moment, all the noise and explosions from her mind seem to fade away. Her breathing becomes slower, more relaxed. You have her there, in your arms, so vulnerable, so unique. This is the moment when the chaos shuts off, and only she remains, with you.

"You’re... weird," she murmurs as she settles against you, already almost asleep, but with a little smile on her face. "I never thought I’d sleep so peacefully... thanks," she adds, and for the first time, her words aren’t a joke. It’s a sincere thank you, even wrapped in that strange way Jinx knows how to be.

You stay there, stroking her hair, feeling how she gradually falls asleep.

Vi

Vi is not one of those people who can sleep immediately. No matter how tired she is, she always has something on her mind or at least something she wants to do before giving in.

You find yourself sitting on the bed, already in your pajamas, wearing one of Vi's old t-shirts and your black underwear, the ones Vi used to love. You have a book in your hands, and as you flip through the pages, you watch as Vi stays in "active mode," rummaging through the drawer of the nightstand. She's wearing a sleeveless shirt and dark shorts. She glances at you from the corner of her eye, noticing your calmness.

"Don’t you want to sleep or what?" Vi asks with that cheeky smile on her face. You know that for her, the concept of "relaxing" is still something she's trying to understand. But it makes you smile.

"Yeah, sure. I'm just reading for a bit before bed," you reply, not taking your eyes off the book.

Vi sits next to you on the bed, giving you a sideways glance before flopping onto the pillow. "Pfff, reading? You’re always so chill… I, on the other hand, am already dying of sleep... But… I don’t wanna sleep yet."

It’s then that she turns to face you, a slight grimace of discomfort crossing her face. "You know what I want? I want you to cuddle me," she says. And although her tone is playful, you can hear the genuine tiredness in her voice. You know that Vi has a steel personality, but even she can’t escape the embrace of calmness when she feels safe. And apparently, that safe place is with you.

Without thinking much, you smile and adjust yourself on the bed, opening your arms to welcome her. Vi doesn't waste a second, immediately nestling against your side with a satisfied smile. "I thought you didn’t want to sleep," you tease softly.

"Too much talk," she responds, resting her body against yours, her shoulders pressed against yours, her breath near your neck. "Just let me be here for a few minutes."

Vi rests her head on your chest, and you relax, feeling how she snuggles in closer. The touch of her skin against yours and the way she settles, fitting perfectly, makes everything feel comfortable and natural.

"You know what the best part of all this is?" she asks, her voice soft but with that playful spark that never leaves her. "Having you here next to me, with those panties that drive me crazy. Why are you so sexy, babe? It's not fair to my mental health." She chuckles, her fingers shamelessly tracing the lace of your underwear.

"You’re also too sexy, babe, sometimes way too much. Look at those abs, they’re like steel," you reply, gently touching her delicious and muscular abdomen as you look at her, realizing how easy it is to make her blush with something so simple.

Then, you take control of the moment and hold her a little tighter, enjoying the closeness and how her body gradually relaxes in your arms. Vi remains restless, but as the minutes pass, her movements become gentler. A couple of times, you hear her mumble something, but it’s nothing coherent, just sounds that let you know she’s falling into a state of relaxation, the one she rarely shows others.

"Hey, why don’t you stop moving?" you gently complain, although you know Vi is always like this, even when she's tired. But you make a small adjustment, settling her between your arms and whispering in her ear. "Relax. You’re safe here."

At first, Vi doesn’t know what to do with your words. But after a few seconds of silence, she responds in a calm, low tone. "Alright, alright. I’m here." And with that, her eyes slowly close.

It’s curious, because even in the simplest moments, Vi has her own way of relaxing, but it’s never like what you’d expect. She feels more comfortable when she's close to you, when she can be by your side without needing to always be alert. Slowly, her breathing becomes deeper and more relaxed.

In that moment, you start to notice that the book you had started reading no longer interests you. With a small sigh, you let Vi settle in your arms, and she falls asleep with a smile on her face. You watch her, gently stroking her hair, feeling that in her arms, though strong, there is a peace you hadn’t seen before.

Caitlyn

The night has fallen, and the hectic workday has finally come to an end. It's time to relax, and as always, you have your little nightly ritual with Caitlyn. After dinner, you both get up, stretching lightly after the meal, while Caitlyn gives you a look that clearly knows what's coming next.

"Shall we brush our teeth?" Caitlyn asks with a calm smile as she heads toward the bathroom. You follow her, leaving the table clean and quiet, the silence of the night surrounding you both.

In the bathroom, you both stand in front of the mirror. Caitlyn looks at you in her reflection, her hair still tied up in a soft ponytail. "I think I'm winning in speed," she says playfully, but you just smile while brushing your teeth. It's a simple moment, but one of those that becomes part of the everyday, like a small shared gesture of complicity.

After a few minutes, you finish brushing your teeth, and Caitlyn, always with a little more patience, takes her time.

When she finishes, Caitlyn opens her drawer carefully and pulls out matching pajamas: a cotton set, comfortable, in dark tones, but with small embroidered details, as if you'd chosen it especially for her. You look at it, smiling to yourself.

"Another night with matching pajamas, huh?" you say as you put yours on, and Caitlyn can't help but laugh.

"I know, I know," Caitlyn responds, with that soft but amused look. "It's kind of silly, but I like it. It's our tradition."

It's a simple gesture, but it carries a deep meaning: amid all the problems that surround both of you, finding these small moments together is what truly makes it all worthwhile. Caitlyn gives you a knowing look as she watches you finish putting on your pajamas, a kind of silent challenge to see who fits the set better. She always teases you a little because she knows how much you enjoy seeing her in these quiet moments, and how well she looks in the set.

You both finish getting dressed and head to the bed, the silence being replaced by a shared calm. Caitlyn slides under the covers, settling carefully, but as always, she looks at you first, waiting for you to take the initiative.

"You know," Caitlyn murmurs, turning to look at you, "the usual. I think that position is the best for sleeping." Her tone is low, with a slight smile.

Without saying another word, you position yourself behind her, wrapping a strong arm around her, the small curve of her body against yours. Sometimes, it feels like the whole world disappears when you embrace her, when the warmth of her body mixes with yours. Caitlyn curls up between your arms, knowing exactly how to position herself so that the feeling of safety is mutual.

"It's a good way to end the day," Caitlyn whispers, settling into your embrace as her hands lightly grasp yours, seeking the physical contact that she knows calms her. You love how she lets go in these moments, leaving behind the strong and determined woman who can handle anything, and becoming that person who, at the end of the day, just needs the comfort of your arms to feel good.

Your arm wraps around her waist firmly, while you, being the dominant one in this moment, hold her protectively, your body aligned behind hers, letting her hair fall softly over your chest. "I’ve got you," you say quietly, almost like a whisper, and Caitlyn responds with a soft sigh, letting go completely in your arms. In that instant, it's as if the world shrinks down to just the two of you, to that embrace which is the only thing that matters at that moment.

Caitlyn turns her head slightly, seeking your lips to steal a gentle kiss, while your fingers trace the curve of her shoulder, as if you wanted to make sure that, for once, everything is right. "I love you," she whispers against your lips, with a tone more vulnerable than the whole day.

You both remain silent for a few minutes, just the sound of shared breathing in the room. Those moments of tranquility are worth more than anything.

Jayce

The night slowly falls over Piltover, and after a long day of work, Jayce finally arrives home, a slight furrow on his brow. He's always thinking about the next project, the next invention, or the last tweak to his latest creation, and the idea of resting seems to be the last thing on his mind. But this time, there’s something different, something that makes his step slower as he arrives home: you.

You, in your comfortable pajamas, waiting for him with a cup of tea in your hands and a couple of blankets on the bed. The simple act of seeing you seems to disarm him. "Today was... long," he says with a tired smile, removing his work cape, revealing what looks like his more comfortable clothes for the night: a simple cotton T-shirt and long pants. But despite his fatigue, his eyes meet yours, and a long sigh escapes his chest.

"I can tell," you respond with a gentle smile, welcoming him. You know that Jayce is someone who doesn’t know how to completely relax, and that gives you a little challenge every night.

After a day filled with ideas and thoughts, Jayce approaches you and sits on the bed. "You know how to make work feel less heavy," he comments, looking at your cup of tea, always one of your quick fixes to calm him down.

With a touch of tenderness, you offer him the cup. "This will help," you say, noticing how his shoulders drop slightly when he takes the first sip. "I promise. Tonight, you rest, love."

He looks at you for a moment, skeptical, but can’t help but smile at how warm your smile is. He finally gives in and lays down. As you watch him, you know Jayce is always the first to want to take control, but in this space, it’s your turn to guide him.

When Jayce comes out of the shower, he lies down next to you on the bed. He feels a bit more relaxed, but you can still see that his mind is running at full speed. You know this is the perfect moment to make him truly unwind.

"Would you like me to read something for you?" you ask softly, with a look full of tenderness. Even though he doesn’t say it directly, you know that sometimes Jayce just needs to disconnect and be carried away by a peaceful story, something to take him away from the constant pressure of innovation.

"You know, you make me feel like a kid?" he replies with a playful smile, but his tone is softer than usual, as if he really appreciates the gesture. "But, yes. I’d like that."

You settle beside him, opening the book you always keep on hand for these moments. It’s nothing too elaborate, just a light novel you know helps him disconnect. As you read aloud, Jayce settles into the pillow, eyes closed, listening to your voice. Occasionally, he looks at you, but his eyes aren’t as full of tension as before. In fact, he feels lighter, more at ease.

When you finish reading the chapter, you know it’s time to take the next step. Jayce is always a bit reluctant to the idea of sleeping, because he feels there’s always more to do, but you don’t let him go. "Now, relax. You’re fine," you tell him as you curl up behind him.

Jayce turns toward you, and at that moment, without planning it, you position yourself next to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. You adjust yourself so that he’s leaning against your chest while you wrap a strong arm around his torso protectively. He’s a bit surprised, but doesn’t say anything, letting the contact envelop him with a warmth that, for the first time all day, makes him feel like he doesn’t have to be in control.

"Is this okay?" you ask, your voice low and calm, as you gently caress his back, making sure he’s comfortable.

"Yes... It’s... perfect," he whispers, finally relaxing. It’s not something he says often, but you know that, in these moments, he really lets go. You continue to softly stroke his back, letting him stay in your arms, relieved by your presence.

Jayce falls asleep quickly, without trying to escape your embrace. His breaths are soft and deep, and for the first time, he seems to find some peace. You, however, stay awake a little longer, watching how his face, so full of determination during the day, is now serene in your arms.

Ekko

Ekko curls up on his side of the bed, but he's not ready to sleep. You know he has an energy that doesn't turn off easily, and as always, you're about to see that playful side of him.

"Did you know we're supposed to be sleeping now? We've got important stuff to handle tomorrow," you say, settling between the sheets, but glancing at him, hoping he'll relax.

Ekko, always with a mischievous smile, gives you a playful, challenging look from his side of the bed. "Sleep? Nah, I thought you were staying awake with me for a bit," he says, quickly reaching over to your pillow and tapping you with it.

"What are you doing?" you ask, laughing, knowing this can only end one way: a little pillow fight.

"Nothing, just seeing if you have a good defense," Ekko shrugs, giving you a teasing look before lifting himself slightly off his bed, ready to continue his attack.

Before you can react, Ekko taps you on the head with the pillow, and you can't help but let out an incredulous laugh. "Hey!" you protest, diving toward him with your own pillow in hand. The air fills with laughter and the sound of pillows hitting everything in their path.

"That's not fair!" you exclaim while trying to defend yourself, but Ekko is agile, always anticipating your moves. Somehow, he dodges your strike, and with a cheeky smile, taps you on the shoulder.

"Ah, I'm done being the good guy!" he says with a playful tone, getting up to attack you once again, but this time, he slides behind you with a move that leaves you unable to do anything.

"No!" you laugh as you try to turn around, but as always, Ekko outplays you. With one last pillow strike, the battle ends with both of you laughing, messy in the bed, the air filled with the fun energy he always brings.

For a moment, everything goes silent, both of you breathing heavily. Ekko, however, can't help but let out a satisfied laugh, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Never underestimate my skills," he says, settling more comfortably on the pillow and stretching a little. But now, his tone has shifted to something softer, more relaxed, like that little burst of energy was what he needed to truly unwind.

"Please, I was about to beat you. You're out of your league," you respond with a mischievous smile, getting comfortable again in the bed.

But before you can say anything more, Ekko gives you a tender look, and with a gentle impulse, he pulls you into his arms, wrapping you in a hug with a more peaceful smile. "That was fun, huh?" he asks, and in his voice, you can hear the more relaxed tone that makes you smile.

You, feeling the softness of his embrace, can't help but laugh again. "I'll admit it, I had fun. But you won't beat me so easily next time. You caught me off guard, that was practically cheating."

"Are you done crying?" he jokes with a sideways smile.

But before you can say anything, Ekko has another mischievous idea in mind. In the blink of an eye, his fingers are at your side, giving you a little poke with the tips of his fingers. It's nothing you couldn't have anticipated.

"No, no, no!" you shout, laughing, but it's too late. Ekko has already started tickling your stomach, a quick move that makes you squirm and laugh with all your might. "Ekko, stop! I swear I'll kill you!"

But he doesn't relent, knowing exactly where your weak spots are. "What, have you already surrendered?" he says, enjoying every laugh that escapes your lips. Your hands try to push his away, but you can't stop laughing in the silliest way, a mix of fun and surprise.

"I can't... stop... laughing!" you manage to say between gasps of laughter.

After a few seconds, he finally stops, seeing how comical you look with your red face and flushed cheeks from all the laughter.

"See? You can't beat me at anything," he says, smiling as if he's won the battle, even though both of you know that, in reality, no one is winning or losing.

"I hate you!" you say between laughs, but the tone is entirely playful, with no malice. And when you try to catch your breath, his fingers finally move away from your stomach, and his hands fall softly to your sides.

The mood shifts quickly, and the laughter fades into a sigh. Ekko, still smiling, settles closer to you, his eyes now softer, less playful, and much more affectionate.

"Admit I'm better than you," he says, though it's clear he enjoys the way you've given yourself to the moment.

"Never," you reply with a smile, unable to stop looking at him, feeling how the warmth between you both grows even more.

In a calm movement, Ekko slowly leans in, bringing his face closer to yours. His eyes, always so full of energy, now shine with an unexpected sweetness. No words are needed; you both feel what's about to happen. And before you can say anything, he kisses you, gently, in a slow way that takes you by surprise.

It's a soft kiss, full of affection, as if he's saying that the good things in life are these little shared moments, like this one, without any worries. The kiss is brief, but enough for all the noise of the pillow fight to fade, leaving only a peaceful hum between you two.

When you finally pull apart, both of you lie in silence for a moment, feeling how the warmth of Ekko's closeness wraps around you. He looks at you with tenderness, and you respond with a relaxed smile, as if, in this moment, the whole world could wait.

"You need to improve your techniques, babe, I'm getting tired of winning all the time," he whispers, and his words make you laugh softly, because you know that, in that instant, the only thing that matters is that you're together, sharing something beyond jokes and tickling.

Finally, you settle back into the bed, and Ekko snuggles up next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist. Legs intertwined, you both feel calmer, safer. The space between you is no longer filled with laughter or games, but with a comfortable, comforting peace. Your breaths sync as sleep begins to approach, but not before exchanging one last look, one that says more than words ever could.

"Good night, loser," Ekko says with a playful grin.

"Good night, cheater," you reply, gently stroking his arm, while you both stay there, surrounded by the warmth that only comes from being with someone you truly understand.

Silco

The candlelight flickers gently in the room, illuminating the hard contours of Silco as he settles into the armchair near the bed. The atmosphere is thick with the kind of tension that only exists between two people who share something complicated, yet, at the same time, seek comfort in each other's presence. The room is silent, almost as if the outside world doesn't matter in this moment.

Silco, with his cold, calculating gaze, watches you from the corner of his eye as you prepare for bed, moving through the room with a calmness that, though peaceful, carries an enveloping energy. He doesn't speak much, but his presence is intense.

"You're not going to sleep?" you ask softly, slipping into your pajamas with a curious gesture. Silco isn't known for his ease in relaxing, and you've noticed that he often needs a push to let go of his constant vigilance.

Silco, without looking away, replies in his low, gravelly voice, "Don't you know I'm not one for sleep?" It's a typical comment from him, one that, in other moments, you would have taken as a barrier. But this time, there's something more. Something that draws you closer.

"I know, but we all need rest, even you," you say as you approach the bed. Without waiting any longer, you lie down on the mattress, feeling the softness of the sheets around you. Despite Silco's distant demeanor, you know he's watching every move you make. There's something in his gaze that says he can't help but care, even if he doesn't voice it.

After a few moments, he rises from his chair and steps toward you, his movements deliberate but slower, as though he's weighing each step. The air becomes a bit heavier, yet more comfortable.

"I don't need rest," he says, but his voice is less firm now. It's almost as if he's speaking more to convince himself than to you.

You look at him, noticing the small gestures that betray him. The way his eyes, usually so cold, soften when he looks at you. He looks like a puppy asking for affection. You decide to take the initiative, sitting up a little to move closer to him. At this moment, it doesn't feel like a power struggle, but more like an invitation to something more personal.

"You and I both know that's not true," you murmur, offering him a calm, almost reassuring smile.

He doesn't respond immediately but takes a step toward you. For a second, the silence between you both seems heavier, and for an instant, you think he might pull away. But instead, he takes hold of your wrist with a firm, yet gentle hand. His fingers close softly around your skin, as if it's the only way he knows how to communicate.

"I don't need you to take care of me," he says, though his tone isn't as certain.

But you don't pull away. "I never said you would. But I want to," you respond, and in that moment, you can see his expression soften, even if only for a brief second. Silco isn't someone used to receiving this kind of affection, yet here he is, allowing you to touch him.

He sits on the bed beside you, saying no more, but there's a sense of understanding between you. As if the simple act of both of you being in the same room, together, was enough to create a deeper connection. Somehow, neither of you need words to understand that something more exists between you two, something that even he can't deny.

Finally, he lies beside you, but not in the way you might expect from someone who usually keeps their distance. His posture is stiff, but close, his body aligned with yours, even though his eyes remain alert, as if waiting for something to happen.

Then, without thinking too much, you move closer and wrap your arms around him, hugging him protectively. Silco seems surprised for a moment, but doesn't pull away. Instead, there's a moment where his breathing slows, becomes more measured, and you can feel his body, so tense inside, begin to relax. His nose buries into your hair, inhaling your sweet fragrance.

"I'm not going to let you face the world alone," you whisper, and Silco, despite himself, doesn't reply, but his hand rests gently on your back, as if letting the calmness finally take over him.

After a few seconds, his lips brush your forehead in a gesture so soft it surprises you. "You're foolish," he says, but there's no malice in his voice. Just a quiet acceptance of what's happening between the two of you.

You settle down beside him, and his hands wrap around your waist in a nearly protective manner, as if wanting to pull you even closer. At this moment, Silco, the man who’s always preferred to maintain distance, doesn’t need anything more than this simple gesture of closeness.

"Good night," you murmur softly, holding him just a little tighter.

"Good night," he replies, his voice gentler, before falling into silence. You both lie there, intertwined in the darkness, needing no more words. The world outside can wait; in this moment, it's just the two of you.

Mel

Mel sits on the bed, her back straight but her shoulders relaxed as she watches you prepare for the end of the day.

The day has been long, but now that you're together, everything seems to slow down, as if only this small space of peace exists. The sound of the wind seeps through the slightly open window, and for a moment, Mel allows herself to rest, away from the demands of the outside world.

"I owe you an apology," she says softly, as her fingers glide through her curly, voluminous hair, slightly messy from the day. "I had no idea how much being distant from all this was affecting you." Mel hasn't slept at home for days; she's been too busy with work and hadn't spent too much time with you lately.

The look in her eyes reflects a mix of vulnerability and gratitude, and even though Mel doesn't express it aloud, you know she's grateful for your presence. You know this is an important moment for her.

"Don't worry about that now. This is a good time to relax," you reply, smiling softly as you move closer to her. With a smile, Mel lets herself fall back onto the pillow, closing her eyes as if she can finally let go of that constant perfection she always maintains.

You sit next to her, silently taking a wide-toothed comb from the nearby table, specialized for curly hair. Mel stays still, trusting you completely as you take a strand of her thick, tightly curled hair. You begin to gently untangle it, careful not to damage her curls, every movement meticulous, an act of love and patience. The sound of small pulls is soft, and you can see how Mel closes her eyes in response to the touch.

"I'll never get tired of this," she murmurs, her tone relaxed as you let the comb pass slowly through the curls that, though naturally voluminous, are soft to the touch. Each strand seems to move with a life of its own, and the scent of her shampoo mixes with the calm of the atmosphere.

With each step, the tangles and knots unravel, and Mel seems to sink deeper into the tranquility of your movements, her breathing becoming slower and more relaxed. After a few minutes, her hair is completely free of knots, and you can see how her mane takes on its natural form, falling into thick, perfectly defined curls that cascade down her back softly.

"I love how you make me feel," she confesses quietly, turning her head toward you, her eyes shining with warmth that she doesn't always show the world.

"It's my pleasure, Miss Medarda," you reply, giving her a sincere smile as you continue brushing her hair. The intimacy of the situation doesn't escape you; it's not just a beauty ritual, but a gesture that shows how much she trusts you.

Once you're done brushing her hair, you take a scented cream from the table. With delicate hands, you begin to apply it to her shoulders, rubbing gently to relax each tense muscle. The sweet, floral scent of the cream mixes with the room's atmosphere, wrapping the space in a sense of warmth and softness. As you work, Mel's skin becomes even softer, and you feel the tension in her body start to dissipate.

"This is so perfect. I don't know what I'd do without you, without your magic hands," Mel whispers, letting out a low laugh, almost as if she's discovering the peace that only you can give her.

"You don't have to worry, neither I nor my magic hands are going anywhere," you reply gently, enjoying the moment. Mel's closeness, her trust in you, makes you feel like you're part of something deeply intimate.

Once you're finished with the cream, Mel settles back into the bed, and you follow, slipping under the sheets with her. The room remains enveloped in silence, but now there's a sense of comfort surrounding you. Mel snuggles next to you, her head resting on your chest as she settles into your arms.

"Thank you for all of this," she says softly, as if it's a whisper just for you. "Today was a long day, but with you, it feels much shorter."

"It's the least I can do," you reply, holding her a little tighter, seeking the warmth of her body. You both settle in the bed, with Mel wrapping her arm around your torso. You feel how her breathing becomes slower and deeper, as if she's letting go of all the weight she carries on her shoulders.

Sevika

The room was dimly lit, with the soft moonlight filtering through the curtains. The cool air in the room wasn’t enough to counter the heat radiating from Sevika. You found yourself tangled up with her, your naked bodies under the same blanket, but somehow, the quilt always ended up on Sevika's side, leaving you exposed to the cold air.

It was a routine that repeated itself. Sometimes, her carelessness when it came to sleeping made you smile, but this time, the cold started to seep into your bones. The breeze caressed your skin, and you curled up more, searching for warmth. But Sevika, unaware of your discomfort, stayed pressed to her side of the bed, invading your space with her large body.

As the minutes passed, the warmth of her skin became overwhelming. The weight of her body on top of yours, though pleasant, started to become too much, leaving little room to breathe. Her deep and steady breathing lulled you, but gradually, you realized the air was getting thicker and you were running out of space.

"Babe..." you murmured softly, trying to move her arm that was resting over you. She didn’t respond. "You're covering me completely... I can't breathe."

The only movement she made was a low sigh. She didn’t seem aware of how much she was crushing you. You raised your voice a little more, with a hint of complaint in your tone, pushing her shoulder.

"Sevika... seriously, you're suffocating me," you protested, trying unsuccessfully to push her away.

Finally, Sevika stretched and mumbled something incomprehensible in her sleep. The quilt had completely disappeared to her side, and you were trapped, frozen in the middle of the bed. Frustrated and with desire building up, you decided to push her more firmly.

Sevika finally woke up, her large body lifting slightly as her gaze focused on you. The spark in her eyes ignited instantly, and she moved toward you with a sideways grin that made it clear she had already noticed your discomfort.

"What's wrong? Complaining about something else, little one?" Her voice was low and rough, laced with a touch of teasing, but also something more.

You felt her body slowly slide toward you, as if she somehow knew exactly how to get you back under her control. Without much you could do to stop it, Sevika moved over you, her body perfectly fitting against yours, pressing you gently into the bed. The sensation was... contradictory, both uncomfortable and delicious.

"Does it bother you that I’m getting this close?" she murmured, her face so close to yours that you could feel her warm breath.

The weight of her body covered you completely, leaving you breathless and immobile. For a moment, all you could do was look at her, noticing the way her eyes sparkled with a glint of provocation.

"What are you going to do about it?" Her voice became a seductive whisper as one of her arms wrapped around you, pinning you in place.

Her size was imposing, but instead of overwhelming you, there was a sense of protection in her proximity. Even though you knew she was dominating you, you also felt an invisible connection between you both, a spark that intensified the desire to be closer, to explore that space you had created together.

Sevika tilted her head toward you, her breathing faster. However, she didn’t rush. Her gaze was fixed on yours, intense and confident, knowing she had you under her control but also savoring the tension you both had built.

"Are you tired of me kissing you every time you complain?" she asked with a teasing smile before slowly lowering herself to your lips.

The brush of her lips against yours was soft, almost as if she were testing you, but the desire between you both became undeniable. The intensity of her kiss grew as you clung to her, feeling her body surround you, confident and firm, but at the same time, incredibly tender.

As the kiss deepened, Sevika pulled back slightly, but her gaze never lost its intensity, direct and unwavering, as if she were exposing parts of you she had never seen before.

Finally, the cold seemed to vanish under the weight of her body, the heat of her presence filling you and burning under your skin. The blankets that had bothered you no longer mattered. The air seemed enough as the two of you submerged into the warmth of the night and each other's embrace, still carrying the lingering challenge between you both.

[hexhomos]

I really hate that so many are against Viktor having the kids because his in utero imagery, embryo face splitting, etc... it's just fitting. With his making a better future, for those that exist and will exist... I don't think he'd hate children, not at all. And as for him hating being pregnant, I think most people find it unpleasant LMFAO. Just because he's disabled doesn't mean he isn't capable of carrying. Disabled people can have, and can want to have, children. I should know, as it's personal to me. How do you feel on this?

I think this is all completely valid. At the same time I fully understand the other side of the issue, because (personally) I'm very viscerally repulsed by the idea of having a pregnancy, just on a gut level. Periods make me feel capital T terrible, I have enough health issues routinely that I'm on edge about losing control of my body every 3 months; and having a baby is The most chaotic and disorienting bodily experience you can willingly sign up for. Nine months of gestation! And it's not over even after the baby is out! You could be changed forever!

I'm empathetic to the viewpoint that viktor would be hyperaware of all the associated trials & risks and he wouldn't be super excited to sign up for it. When you're born with an uterus you're bombarded with the messaging that pregnancy is Inevitable and Desired and if you don't do it soon enough you are, in fact, wasting a precious limited resource of your body - and this is the norm, this is expected, but also generally quite horrific. I think people expressing their negative feelings on the trope come more from a place of personal discomfort, and fandom niches are one of the only spaces where this can be expressed without people looking at you like some sort of confessed criminal (or god forbid, a broken woman!!!!)

I don't think Viktor’s imagery necessarily implies pregnancy so much as him being trapped in a state of arrested development, reverting to a pre-ego self (or, a rebirth and reformation) he's on the death-life cycle, quite literally.

I also honestly believe ship babies stuff can be cute, and I've liked some of it. I've even read some pregnant viktor fics before, and eventually decided those aren't for me. To each their own! I like viktor as a spokesperson of body horror and i think the machine herald could do some great free abortions. I'm pro-get-jayce-pregnant. Life will find a way. He would probably see all of the positive sides and brush off the negatives then get really in touch with his feelings. let viktor be the bewildered dad. that's my take

[tartagilicious]

i stayed there (our minds conjoined)

9:02pm ✧･ﾟ: i should've asked you questions, i should've asked you how to be, 'cause every scrap of you would be taken from me. what died didn't stay dead, you're alive in my head. all your closets of backlogged dreams, and now you left them all to me.

-> so, my demons won LMAO - this story's details to tie into a previous work, right where you left me , but it can be read stand-alone! happy new years to everyone, this is my gift to you <3 / cw: death of a loved one, heavy angst.

-> synopsis: despite your best efforts, sickness is inevitable. your time together after you'd arrived back in piltover had been short-lived, and after viktor's condition takes him from you, you are left with the heavy promises you'd made to a dying man. the locket around your neck, a treatment that you were unable to devise in time, everything you'd vowed to do in his death is a piece of the puzzle towards solidifying the dream you'd always shared -- a life in death, and a dedication to the person who had urged you on all your life.

you hadn’t left the labs in days.

a part of your subconscious begs your body to take you somewhere new, somewhere that signs of the man’s existence aren’t so ripe — but your inability to comprehend everything keeps you planted.

jayce had accompanied you the first few days after the tragedy, suggesting that you move his friend's belongings to the side while offering himself up to listen to your grievances.

and your old self would have jumped at the offer of getting everything applicable to your lover out of your sight. no progress can be made if you’re stuck in the past. the motto of piltover has come to mind several times in the last couple of days, but humans aren’t such simple creatures.

it just wasn’t what you wanted.

you didn’t want to forget. perhaps you could move on eventually, or maybe you might take the sadness of viktor’s passing to your own grave. but whether each of those futures come to pass, you want to mourn him correctly, in the way that he deserves.

though, you aren’t quite sure how to get to that step.

as you sit idly on a stool in the lab, your lips thin in apprehension. there has been an ever-present tightness stuck in your chest ever since jayce came rushing into the lab a few days ago, speaking so quickly you could barely understand him. yet, you can still perfectly recall the moment at which your stomach dropped.

it had always been beyond viktor's control, his sickness. no matter the roundabout ways he attempted to cure it, tried to treat it and heal it, nothing acted as he wanted it to -- as you wanted it to. you'd promised on the day you met again that you would do whatever it took to save him, and yet, not even your minds conjoined had been enough.

every day, you wonder if there is something out there that you missed. some detail or phenomena that would give you the key to saving your lover’s life. had you not returned to him from silco’s clutches, would he have found a solution on his own? would he have found a more competent partner to assist him?

but, you know he would never blame you for the lack of a treatment — viktor might even scold you for having such thoughts. though of course, he will never again be there to hoist you out of your worries again.

your bottom lip shakes with unshed tears as your mind and body turn to mush.

it is your fault. you’d had ample opportunity to research a cure for him. almost a year had passed since you first reunited again, but you had been so preoccupied with indulging in the time you'd missed to realise the gravity of your futile searches -- all you could do was let the failed experiments pile up, even as viktor’s condition began to worsen.

a shaking hand reaches up to grip the locket that hangs from your neck, though you still aren't used to its absence. it had always been an object of importance concerning the two of you, containing a crudely cut picture that dated back to the first working invention you’d created together. but, you can barely even muster a smile as the image of a boat between your tiny arms materialises in your head.

you were only children then, creating only to satisfy your curiosity about the world. it’s truly cruel to think about how he had gone out doing the very thing that had brought you together, desperation fuelling him until the very end.

although he had given the piece of jewellery back to you fairly easily when you’d reunited outside the council room, it still felt wrong to wear it on your person. for so long, it had been a sign of your bond from afar. of your promise to always find your way back to him, no matter the problems that chased you.

it’s the very reason you had chosen to leave it with him.

you had made up your mind to leave one last promise to viktor before he had passed on, tucked in the form of a tiny locket in his shaking palm.

“you—“

he had tried to stop you, to give the piece of jewellery back to you while you still sat in front of him. but you refused. viktor had always said it was a physical symbol of your will to return to him, so the last time he reminded you of its connection to you, you explained that its original purpose wouldn’t be so easily forsaken.

“we will meet again.” you had assured him quietly, a tight smile twisting your lips as he frowned. viktor’s physical condition had been among the first signs that his sickness was progressing, and its full effects were visible in his last days.

the golden eyes you loved drooped with exhaustion even as he offered you a smile. the breathing tube that assisted him beeped faintly in the background.

“but,” you said it quietly in an attempt to hold back your sadness, but it had always been a useless game. viktor dropped the locket into his lap just to take your hand, thumbing away your tears with careful precision. “i’m afraid you’ll have to wait a lot longer to give this back to me this time.”

he mumbled your name gently, a sigh leaving his bruised lips -- yet another sign of his quickly impending fate.

"you have always been too sentimental." viktor mused, gaze training on the necklace on his lap before it flitted back up to your face. the words he said were chastising, but the look that traced his features was lined with grief.

he squeezed your hand as tightly as his body would allow.

viktor looked you in the eye as he promised, "i will return it, but i will do so when i am healthy again. is this something you'd like to refute?"

"...i'm sorry." head dropping over your conjoined hands, you sobbed quietly even as he placed a warm palm on your head. "i'll keep working, vik. i won't let anything happen to you. i promise."

hesitantly, his hand slid down to cup your cheek, forcing you to meet his gaze. you knew what you must've looked like -- eyes rimmed with red, cheeks puffed, and lips forever downturned into a regretful frown. but viktor's gaze on you has never been judging.

you whispered. "i love you."

"i know." he breathed, "i know."

however, your bad luck must have followed you from the slums of the undercity, because there was no saving viktor once his subconscious began to slip. you still doubt there's another feeling like it, the crushing sensation that came over the room the moment you watched the light leaving his eyes.

everything in you wanted to look away, to spare yourself the sight. but you were stuck even as the hand that wasn't tucked in yours unfurled, revealing a familiar piece of jewellery pressed into his palm.

a hand flew over your mouth as you choked out a sob. the locket that sat tucked into his palm seemed to mock you, reminding you that the next time you meet, it would likely be in another plane of existence.

but for now, you're simply back in the lab -- alone and waiting for change, waiting for the off chance that your lover will walk through the door and assure you that everything had simply been a bad dream. only, the lack of jewellery on your neck is enough to remind you it will never happen.

because the locket had been buried alongside viktor after all. the chain was wrapped intricately around his palm, almost as if to imply that it would remain there forever —and so long as you are not in the plot next to him, you believe it will.

it has always been your dream to better the lives of the people in the undercity, a goal that viktor had breathed new life into the moment he'd met you on the river bank all that time ago.

had you told your younger self that the shy boy you had to fight words from would grow into the man you would do anything for, you would have laughed. but it's true, viktor will always be your motivation to go on, and the reason you do what you do.

all he had ever wanted was to be remembered for his contributions. and while you will certainly never forget him, the duty of seeing that no one else does has fallen to you -- and as long as you continue to work, a piece of him will live on.

because everything you work to create, everything you spend long nights trying to piece together, is a product of his ingenious executions in you. it was your promise to him from beyond the grave: that you would never let his dreams of a better world falter.

so, you throw yourself into work not long after the day of his burial passes. the first of your advancements, you decide, will be the treatment for his illness that you'd both worked so hard to map out. it isn’t hard to find the basis for such a goal, but most of the time, you assume you will be entirely on your own.

your days are spent experimenting -- waiting for certain solutions to ferment long enough for effects to be visible, or toying with the hextech magic in an attempt to mould it to the frequency you're trying to meet.

jayce had been gracious enough to spare some of his time to help you. as a councilman, his hours are often booked long before you can even think of requesting his assistance, but he is frequently the key in making advancements.

"you're working your brain too hard, it can't even see simple things." jayce says one day, a disapproving frown pulling his dignified expression down. "take a break. you won't be helping anyone in that state."

it was true — anyone looking at you might think you’d contracted the same illness viktor had. sighing, you slump in your stool and let your head fall upon your arms.

“even if i rest..” you trail off, raising a hand half heartedly. “what good will it do? it’s like my brain has been rewired, i can’t think about anything else anymore.”

jayce is silent at your profession for a few minutes.

“…he would’ve wanted you to keep yourself healthy.”

blinking, your expression deflates, and you’re suddenly glad that your face his hidden from jayce’s view.

“that’s not fair at all.” you mutter bitterly, clearing your face and pushing yourself up to side eye the hextech creator. “viktor wanted a lot of things, jayce.”

he shrugs, deftly changing the subject. “even so, this is something i want too. will you turn me down?”

you begrudgingly lay your head in your lap once again, only intending to shut your eyes until jayce has taken his guard-like eyes off of you. but, against your own wishes, you fall into a deep sleep rather quickly.

there has been an influx of nights like this, ever since viktor’s passing — a ceremony of refusal and the eventual process of giving in, even if it’s not of your own volition. it’s a ruthless cycle that only inflames the pain in your chest.

but eventually, your dedication finally pays off.

it’s a muggy day in the city of progress, a thin sheen of moisture covering every available surface. the waves lap eagerly at the riverbanks far below as you enter the lab for the day. the sounds have always been fairly noticeable, but perhaps the degree of your findings has spurred a more emotional reaction from the familiar waters.

you follow a regular routine — hanging your coat on a rack made from repurposed metal scraps, then cranking open a window to rid the room of any unpleasant scents that linger. occasionally, if you let yourself, you’ll take a look at some of viktor’s more unfinished gadgets. but, it’s a rare occurrence.

in this instance, you waste no time.

you’d been hopeful recently, spurred on by the small developments in your solution. you’d taken great care in combining piltover’s modern medicine with the hextech’s magic, and piece by piece, your work had begun to show.

your newest sample sits protected in a small glass enclosure, wherein the arcane invention’s modified form mingles with any bacteria from the undercity you’d deemed harmful. you’d collected it through various means; and though not every specimen you gathered over time was what you were looking for, you had gleaned more than enough in the end.

ironically, you were fairly confident that this round’s result would fail, just as every other one had. but the low expectations don’t keep you from stopping in your tracks once you notice the unusual absence of residual bacteria in the container.

your mouth opens and closes as you work to formulate an explanation. curious hands lift the box to find the engraved number on the bottom, proving that it is indeed the same sample you’d set out a few days before.

setting it down, you crouch to be eye level with the enclosure. truly, the surface is completely clear for all but the slight blue tint of hextech magic that remains. your lips thin as a possibility comes to mind:

have you finally succeeded?

over the next few days, you eagerly put the arcane solution through various tests. jayce is hardly available to give a hand, being largely MIA due to the duties imposed on him by the council. you don’t blame him, of course, but the nervous tick of your throat doesn’t stop, not as long as you’re not confident that your solution is perfect.

four days later, you’re leaning from an open window, thick breath visible in the winter air. there are a few more tests to conduct, a combination of routes to take until you’re absolutely sure – but you’re unable to think of any more applicable procedures. you’d already gone through testing different types of bacteria, even the niche category of temperature had been visited.

it’s in moments like these that you truly realise viktor is gone for good. in the past, it was always exceptionally easy to find yourself in a slump and expect your lover to be lingering around, more than willing to assist. the both of you would always find yourself in similar situations, looking for that other set of eyes that had served well for years.

jayce is hardly a suitable substitute.

it’s out of the question to take a breather, but there is a period where you can’t muster the energy to even enter the lab. you’re fairly sure that the solution is what you’re looking for, but being medicinal, there are still many steps you need to take before it can reach those who need it.

however, when the sixth and final solution holds strong, all of those variables seem to vanish.

angry-half red moons settle into the thinner layers of your skin as you clench your fists, but not even the pain is enough to keep your emotions at bay. your heart quickly swells and you aren’t sure of its nature – excitement, relief, and even anger breaks loose in the form of hot tears.

you had been a mere two months too late to save him. two months. viktor had lived a decent life, but such a short period of time is unfortunately menial in the grand scheme of things. if you had taken that time earlier, perhaps he would be standing next to you now.

a stray palm wipes furiously at your eyes, keeping your tears of regret at bay for as long as you can muster.

but, at the very least, if you cannot help him, you will see that others like him do not share the same fate.

when you are finally able to muster the composure necessary to contact jayce, he is gracious in his arrival. you had ceased contacting him for an extended period of time, mostly assuming that he’d be too busy otherwise, and also simply not requiring his help. maybe his eagerness to attend to you is what made him apologise so profusely.

though, when jayce finally simmers down, you show him what you’d been working on. there are around six samples that have since piled up, and even at a glance, they seem perfect. he sneaks a glance at you as you take a step forward.

“...i don’t understand, they’re empty.”

you can’t help a smile as your careful hand groups the samples. “yes, that’s exactly it.”

viktor may be physically gone, but in spirit, he will always be with you.

it's why, after months of careful research, you had tearfully noted his name on your very first patent -- just as stubbornly as he had once noted yours. because the arcane solution in front of you, it is as much his work as it was yours.

weeks later, after the arcane solution has been passed under the eyes of the council, it is patented as a working medicine. it is advertised as something to treat the side effects of illnesses caused by the pollution of the undercity, and while a plethora of potential symptoms exist, the medicine you’ve created seeks out the root – eliminating the biggest problems before they can extend.

and even if the world forgets, you will always remember the cause of so many relieved patients, of the thanks you’ve received from their lovers and friends. your treatment has saved many, though it is a bitter feeling.

“i’m sure you’ve caught wind of this already.” you stand loosely, noting the fresh headstone in front of you. you had created the solution to save lives, and yet, the stone is undeniable proof that you’d been unable to help the one person who needed it most.

viktor’s grave lies in a private area, a few mere turns away from the alcove he had grown up in. you are amongst the most frequent of visitors for obvious reasons, but for now, he is celebrated. it warms your heart to notice frequent people pointing, recognising the name engraved.

“but i did it.” you admit quietly, unable to look directly at the grave. it’s almost as if viktor’s own eyes watch you while you talk, his influence evident in the way the trees shake in the wind above you. “i told you i’d keep working.”

maybe fate has something planned for everyone. you dread to think that viktor’s death had been unavoidable, but the cruel truth is that you will never know otherwise. you are only capable of taking the next steps forward, stepping away from your grievances and moving with the times – in the current of the city of tomorrow.