#viktor rp blog

[askskyyoung]

Sky didn't grow up well off. Her parents barely scraped by with their earnings. But they had a roof over their head, food on the table, and love.

There will always be love.

Sky's cheeks remained hot and red even when that hand lifted away from her shoulder. A few times now, she had the honor of being on the receiving end of such physical affection.

And it was sad how she craved it.

She was shy and reclusive and didn't spend much time with her friends outside of work. She had Kiki, her black cat. Her plants, sure. However, human interaction is what she missed the most from childhood.

She knew Jayce was talking. She did. But she was lost in her thoughts.

Love. Touch. Viktor and Jayce. Jayce being clearly visibly upset and stressed.

She took a step away from his desk, mouth open to ask if he was alright. Jayce was always thinking of others. She knew why he had stepped away from her. The way his hand had lifted away.

Never would Jayce make her feel uncomfortable. If anything, she saw him as a brother figure. Someone she could confide in.  

"I haven't seen him yet. But you and I both know he tends to run off sometimes." She cleared her throat and observed Jayce a moment longer before she awkwardly spoke again.

"I won't talk about this. To anyone. To Viktor." She said. "But if I'm being honest, If I can be." She lowered her eyes to the floor, her voice nervous, quieter, and sad.

Her parents were gone. They never saw their daughter climb and claw her way through the academy with honors and brilliance. Hard work, tears, and endless nights.

She wanted to hold them one last time. Hug them. Tell them one last 'I love you.'

"You two...should...talk about it..."

She thought of Viktor and his cough.

Before it was too late.

It was a whole trail of paper. Not one or two, but a trail. Of paper.

Was the person in so much of a rush to fail seeing such a mess they left behind?

"I swear sometimes I'm a maid more than a scientist or assistant or-" Sky's external monologue stopped short when she came across a journal, out of place and sudden.

This had to be a joke. How had someone dropped this and not realized it?

Nonetheless, Sky picked up the leather-bound journal and flicked through the pages to figure out the owner of such a mess.

She paused at a random page and began to read hoping to find out who the owner was.

The woman was only a few lines in when she snapped it shut with a startled squeak.

By Janna.

She blushed terribly.  

This was Jayce Talis' journal journal.

She looked around to see if anyone had seen her. No one was around, of course, but she had to look just to ease her paranoia and anxiety.

Sky hastily gathered the scattered papers and hurried to the lab. When there, closed the door behind her, her heart pounding, listening for any signs of pursuit.  

Again, no one would have, but it was best to make sure. This felt criminal.

She stood there a good long few moments, the sensation of her glasses slowly slipping down the bridge of her nose startling her into action.

She pressed them back into place, made her way to Jayce's desk, and placed all the papers and journal on his desk.

And she stared down at it.

She swallowed.

She reached out tentatively but then withdrew her hand. She knew she shouldn't. It was a breach of privacy. Everything professional about her job told her to do the opposite. But the temptation was too strong.

She opened a random page, looked around, sat on a rolling stool, and began to read. @jayceofprogress

[jayceofprogress]

[Jayce and Viktor arrange to partner up for some after-hours recalibration. Context here: i, ii, iii. Mature content under the cut.]

Jayce reaches the worn-down patch of carpet outside the door to Viktor’s apartment, turns on his heel, and strides back the way he came.

He’s on his fourth lap of the corridor. None of Viktor’s neighbors have come out to confront him about it yet, but considering the entire building is university housing, they’ve probably got more pressing things to focus on than an oversized, overdressed idiot stress-sweating through his freshly-pressed shirt.

It’s just sex, Jayce thinks, grimly determined. Viktor doesn’t care, and neither should he. It’s only skin. Nothing but a physical outlet with a defined physiological end goal: release endorphins and oxytocin, improve circulation and brain function.

Never mind that Jayce’s previous casual sexual partners had all had to gently break it off with him when he’d inevitably become more attached than they had. Never mind Jayce has been waking in the mornings hard and leaking in his sleep pants following half-blurred dreams in which he’s kneeling at Viktor’s feet, mouthing needily at the inside of his knees.

Never mind he can’t help but feel this entire endeavor seems a little like handing a Shimmer addict a fully charged hit, and asking them to keep a eye on it while everyone turns away for a moment.

He’s back in front of Viktor’s apartment. He considers turning again to pace one more lap, but he forces himself to come to a halt. Just sex. Only skin.

He tugs his jacket straight, pushes a hand back through his hair, and knocks on Viktor’s door.

@askviktor

[councillortalis]

He's a bit annoyed with me for taking a picture, but I heard the public really likes him! (I've been telling him to interact with fans and get out of the lab more, but he says he's too busy. Sorry guys 🙂‍↕️)

( @viktorcocreatorofhextech )

[viktorcocreatorofhextech]

What the fuck is that.

[chronicallyviktor]

It seems that there are mixed opinions on my morals among the Viktors on this app. I am curious what you all think.

[astrocomiical]

i gave in. i made a viktor rp blog. im cringe and im free @chronicallyviktor

[hextech-workaholic]

Viktor's Notes

Entry One

Thoughts After a Party

Had a talk with Heimerdinger last night, about impermanence and death and the things that we can leave behind. Enlightening I'm sure, if only I hadn't been too drunk to remember the majority of the conversation. The suggestion, at least, I remembered. To start…writing it all down. Not just our research notes but…everything. Anything. Whatever thoughts I can share. That maybe someday someone might appreciate having a compass of sorts to what my thoughts were- what was motivating me. I think I told him that the idea was…foolish, last night. A waste of time for something nobody will read. I am no Jayce Talis- I don't need piles of notebooks all signed with my name, I said. I was going to bring it up again, before I left with Jayce, I think. To argue it again, I imagine. Though I suppose I feel…differently, this morning.

I awoke with a coughing fit, and Jayce…saw a bit of blood. I panicked- of course I did, the whole night had been one such event- and told him my throat had simply been sore- that the alcohol was rough on it- that I had already been to see a physician. First, I bring him in drunk, change everything between us and then…lie to him. But it did shift my perspective. Perhaps Heimerdinger is right, perhaps someone will want something with my voice written down when…if…the inevitable happens.

But I am being equivocal, aren't I? "Someone." It is not someone. Jayce, I mean. Perhaps Jayce would want it. Perhaps he's the only reason I am writing at all, really. So that one person will remember that I existed. So that he will have at least writing if I cannot give him forever. At least…paper. Handwriting.

I have been doing equations only because my hands have been shaking too much to maneuver the gears I needed to install today. I've been hoping they won't notice, Sky and Jayce. I don't need Jayce to try and send me home. Rest isn't going to make it better. It will only waste my time. As precious and fleeting as it may be.

He said we made good connections yesterday. Not that I actually helped, beyond I suppose moral support of…standing in a corner. I can tell it wore him out enough, so I haven't yet brought up that I don't want to attend the next one of those outings.

Haven't brought up that I'm hungover, either. It's not helping the situation, certainly. The coffee is fueling me through the headache, at least. And the…thoughts. About last night. It is a bit of a blur…but I can still taste the champagne on his lips and…I don't know where we stand, really. He said he did not regret it and we joked about how Piltover Enquirer will be all over it, but I don't know what it is, really…

He looks so burnt out, today. He is good at talking to them, but I can see how much it wears him out, on top of how late it was when we started.

He has dark circles under his eyes, today, and there's a spot of stubble down by his jaw that he missed while shaving- he was probably too tired to notice. I think he is on his second cup of coffee. And the tension he's holding in his shoulders…

Přál bych si, abych mohl odstranit napětí konečky svých prstů… Kéž bych mohl pomoci…

Nemůžu uvěřit, kolik jsem toho řekl…jak jsem nemohl držet jazyk za zuby…

I need to stop staring and get back to work. I don't know what to do to help, but I can't…watch him like that. He distracts me and I only have so much time to make this dream of ours come true. That is what matters. Making sure his dream comes true And if I keep staring, I am only going to think more about that question hanging in the air of what this has become. Yes, he said he loved me but…others have said such in the heat of the moment, and we haven't… addressed it fully. And there's his offer last week to think of- when he had noticed the bruising on my throat- am I sure it goes farther than that?

I need to work. I need to stop…thinking about this. There are tests to run on the Hexclaw, and Jayce has been asking for weeks to see my notes on our studies on the HexCore- I need to take time to make a copy without all the notes in the margins.

V.

[viktorwithhextech]

i found baby pictures of myself. i wish little viktor could see hextech. he would have liked it a lot

[viktor-rp]

Stop sending me this shit

[askviktor]

I have received many messages wishing me a Happy Trans Visibility Day. Thank you for your support of both @jaycehousetalis and me. I have yet, however, to wish all of you the same.

Being transgender is a beautiful, complex existence and it is yours to forge. Take permission from yourself, for yourself, to become who you are. You will not receive it from the world around you. Progress can be painful, but it is full of discovery. I hope wherever you are within your process, if you are indeed transgender as well, you are finding moments of joy in your own self-creation. Every human deserves this.

Happy Trans Visibility Day to you, my friends.

[councillortalis]

Ouuhhh I think you'd be a hammerhead shark and Viktor would be an axolotl. You both just have those vibes.

Oh, that's a really interesting interpretation! Very ocean-themed, huh?

Personally, I think Viktor would be one of these!

Crows are extremely smart and observant, and very pretty! I feel the same way about Owls; though their brains aren't nearly as developed as crows, they still share some levels of intelligence and are also very pretty!

[chronicallyviktor]

Such harsh words… Have we forgotten what we can accomplish? Forgotten how Piltover truly thinks of us? They will not answer your pleas.

I can’t believe we’re sleeping in a fucking sewer pipe after everything we did for Piltover. Never-mind what I did with the Hexcore, I sacrificed years of my life and my personal health only to have my name completely retracted and my wishes for our research to not be weaponized further completely ignored?

[viktorcocreatorofhextech]

Can you twerk? Also, do you know all the elements of the periodic table

For your first question, I do not know what that word means.

For your other question, yes I do.

Lithium, beryllium, sodium, magnesium, potassium, calcium, rubidium, strontium, caesium, barium, francium, radium, scandium, titanium, yttrium, lanthanum, actinium, zirconium, hafnium, rutherfordium, vanadium, niobium, tantalum, dubnium, chromium, molybdenum, tungsten, seaborgium, manganese, technetium, rhenium, bohrium, iron, ruthenium, osmium, hassium, cobalt, rhodium, iridium, meitnerium, nickel, palladium, platinum, darmstadtium, copper, silver, gold, roentgenium, zinc, cadmium, mercury, copernicium, boron, aluminium, gallium, indium, thallium, nihonium, carbon, silicon, germanium, tin, lead, flerovium, nitrogen, phosphorus, arsenic, antimony, bismuth, moscovium, oxygen, sulfur, selenium, tellurium, polonium, livermorium, fluorine, chlorine, bromine, iodine, astatine, tennessine, helium, neon, argon, krypton, xenon, radon, oganesson, hydrogen.

[chronicallyviktor]

Refrain from questioning the logistics of my presence here, because I am not quite certain how (or why) it happened either.

[hextech-workaholic]

Kind of a weird question- but do you like hugs? A lot of the people I know have wildly different answers. Guess it’s from growing up in Zaun. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I tend to dislike being touched, on average. So I am certainly not one to typically like hugs. Though I will admit, the few times Jayce has gotten excited about something and has hugged me has been pleasant. He puts so much force into it that ironically...it tends to ease the tension in my back.

But typically? No. I will tolerate them sometimes from friends but beyond that they are very unwelcome. I do wonder now, what the difference between growing up in Zaun versus Piltover plays on that preference. I always thought it was from growing up alone- I had not made the connection to the Undercity.

[hextech-workaholic]

Alcohol is the antithesis of clear thought. Sober, Viktor can admit to himself that he would not have agreed to let Jayce walk him home. Not with his tongue so unleashed. But he had wanted…perhaps just a moment. Jayce is busy, constantly- especially at parties. He felt he hadn't seen him in weeks- which is an exaggeration, of course, but…he had just wanted a moment.

A moment where he was not constantly adjusting his cane and his balance might have been better, but still…Viktor is hardly ready for the night to end. He sucks in some air through his nose in replacement of a laugh at the sentiment of Heimerdinger being right- that he should take more notes. Somehow…it is more agreeable when Jayce suggests it, but...still.

"I don't need a notebook signed with my name at the bottom of every page like you…but perhaps I will consider it. And for what it is worth…it was not all so bad. I enjoyed the drinks, at least."

He looks over and…then they're there. The night feels…too fast. Rushing by as he tries to cling to the fleeting moments. Jayce's finger brushes his face and his breath catches in his throat. The last thing on his mind is sleep. No, it is…panic and restlessnesss, mixed with the booze and as Jayce tells him that he must be tired his answer is an unthought rush of truth.

"I am really not!"

Stupid. He should have known he would say something stupid. He still slips and says more.

"I mean…sorry. You're right I should go inside, at least."

He unlocks the door.

"But…would like to come in for some tea before you go home? To warm back up?"

It is out of his mouth before he can think, and despite the sourness of dread that fills his stomach…it is a bit too late to retract the offer.

The night air is cold and dense as though threatening rain, though the clouds haven’t yet covered the stars. Jayce regrets he didn’t think to bring an umbrella. When he’d offered to walk Viktor home from the gala, he’d only—selfishly—wanted a little more time with him before the night ended. A chance to speak, away from the work and the music and the chatter. Now, glancing down at Viktor practically swimming in Jayce’s coat, he wonders if he should’ve called for a carriage and saved him the walk.

“I’m glad you came,” Jayce says. His arm is hovering uselessly somewhere behind Viktor’s lower back, in case he needs steadying after a night of drinking and standing. “I know those things aren’t your first choice of activity. And…I think Heimerdinger’s right about the notes. It’s a good idea.”

They’ve reached Viktor’s apartment. A cold breeze curls its way down the sleeping street. It lifts Viktor’s hair, loosing a dark strand across his forehead. Jayce, unconsciously, tucks it back into place, before a stab of less-than-sober awareness returns and he lowers his hand.

“I’m sorry. You must be tired. I should let you get some sleep.”

@hextech-workaholic