#viktor would lose his mind. just a bit.

[lamoureg]

it might be difficult to make it work for my fic but thinking about s1 jayce and s2 jayce in the same room is making me giggle a little bit

[you-know-honey]

Green Vibes

Viktor x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Viktor is on the verge of collapse because of work, so you will “prescribe” him an unconventional method.

Warning: Mention and use of drugs (Weed). Sexual tension (I don't know if it counts, judge for yourself)

N/A: English is not my native language, feel free to correct me in the comments and I will update it. Remember to share if you liked it.

Translation of the request: The reader shows Viktor the joints

You bent down to pick up the twelfth crumpled ball of paper that rolled across the floor to throw it in the trash can.

As an assistant it was your duty to help with the less interesting tasks of being a visionary inventor. And that meant keeping things tidy and clean.

Which used to be the biggest burden, Jayce was a master at leaving important things lying around, his desk was always full of papers, notebooks, screw and bolts.

It was like being his babysitter, once he left at nightfall, you stayed to tidy up.

You wanted to go home and… try a new ‘relaxant’ you had bought, but it seemed like that would have to wait. Or maybe not…

Viktor always stayed too late at the lab, so while you cleaned up and complained about the mess of Jayce, he was always there, silent or chatting a little with you when he decided to take a break, something very rare for him.

But now he was really focused, mumbling things that aren't so nice to hear while writing in his notebook, then he got upset and hit the table a little before tearing off the sheet and throwing it to the floor. He's been like this for the last few hours, it seems like he could burn everything down if his formulas don't start making sense soon. It's weird to see him like this, normally he's someone who could have infinite patience, you suppose he has it with everyone except himself.

You approached his desk discreetly, as if you were tidying up a bit. You carry with you your usual relaxed energy, maybe you could spread some of your spirit to him.

"Viktor!" your shout surprised him, making his back tingle like a cat's "You look like you're about to pop a vein, are you okay?" they say with a soft smile.

Viktor guides his gaze from your hands on his desk to your face, you look at him with a calm smile, as if you hadn't just almost stopped his heart, it's always like that, there's no other way you could smile at him and if you think back he's the only person you really smile at.

He answers with a snort, rubbing his temples.

“Of course not. If I was this dam- prototype would work” he refrained from saying a rude thing, you knew him, for him, saying a rude thing meant he was losing his composure and that was something he never did “I'm starting to think that magic is more logical than science.”

He sighed, showing that he was quite exhausted, the dark circles under his eyes supported that conclusion. His thin hands combed his hair as if that would refresh his ideas before falling on his desk again.

That squeezed your heart a little and made a curious idea cross your mind, reflected in a malicious smile.

You let your hands wander across the desk, between the open papers and notebooks, to Viktor’s hands that were clenched into fists. “What you need is not more work. You need to relax…”

Viktor's body was the victim of a shiver when he felt your fingers approach his hand, his heart skipped a beat when he felt how your fingers tried to loosen their grip on his fist and finally succeeded. He tried to stay still, as if the slightest movement would push you away like a little bird, his gaze followed each of your movements in his hand, caressing his palm and playing with his fingers.

Was he surprised by your attitude? Yes. It was something he had never expected from you. You used to play little jokes on him, like shouting his name or throwing a pencil on the floor to get him out of his almost absolute concentration but... touching him? That was new. Sure, you were the secretary of both of them but you always had to run after Jayce because he was like a clueless child, even Viktor knew that. With him you weren't like that at all, you always gave him his space and kept your distance all the time. That had always made him feel uncomfortable, like he didn't belong to whatever was forming when you and Jayce were together, like he was a sour shadow life to the sidelines of happiness.

“Can I help you with that?” you asked in a whisper.

“I guess so…” He seemed nervous and that increased even more when he felt your hand go up his arm to his shoulder, where with both hands you did small massages on his shoulders and neck. You used to give Jayce massages when he was frustrated and a part of Viktor had always felt a little jealous of that, although he didn't want to admit it, it seemed unfair to him, Jayce had Mel and he really didn't get tired of talking about how wonderful she was and yet he also had you, always fluttering around him, always laughing with you, always accepting your merely friendly touch, always...always making you smile...he wants that.

He couldn't help but gasp when the pressure on his body began to disappear, his body was also enjoying it, after all it was the first time he could feel your touch beyond accidental brushes. He was grateful that you were behind him, he was sure that if you could see his face he couldn't hide how much he was enjoying it.

You looked over your shoulders at your bag hanging on one of the racks next to the door, next to Viktor's jacket. It was time to take advantage of that small purchase. You slid your hands to his neck, massaging even under his hair, making your way and disarranging his shirt in the process until you touched his warm and soft skin. Viktor's hand quickly went in search of his cane, when a shiver ran through him from head to toe with force, the emptiness in his lungs reminded him that he should breathe. But even with that wave of emotions, what he felt the most was the absence of your hands on him.

He quickly turned in his chair to look for you, his eyes traveling around the lab until he saw you near the entrance.

“No…” he muttered to himself as he grabbed his cane and let his shoulder rest on it, hurrying to get to you, but when he had you in front of him the words got stuck in his throat. “Are you leaving already?” he asked, it was the only thing his nervous mind had been able to formulate.

You turned back to face him, hiding something in the palm of your hand, a playful smile spread across your face as you shook your head. “No, I just came… to get something.”

“Oh…” he felt like an idiot, there was no lie that could justify him basically going after you like a lapdog. So he just stayed silent looking for something that would draw his attention more than the shame he felt and he found it, in your hands. “What are you trying to hide?” He asked at your poor attempt to hide what you were carrying in your hands. That helps him regain his composure and look you in the eyes again with confidence.

“It’s a secret” your tone is playful as you dodge him, close enough to smell his coffee and caramel aroma. Your movements are full of grace, even when you bring an extra chair to his desk and push his research away with a slight carelessness.

He can’t help but compare you to a dancing nymph, the air that sneaks through the open window and the bright moonlight support that idea in his head, he doesn’t even mind that some of his papers fly in the wind to his feet, he feels it as if they mark a path to you. Viktor doesn’t hesitate for a moment to return to his desk, shaking his head as a shy smile crosses his face, he can’t help it, it’s what you provoke in him.

He lets himself fall on the seat in front of you, your body shivers with the friction of the metal device on his leg against your knee, he seems to notice it and self-consciously takes a little distance, but you used your foot to work his chair into place before basically having him on the other side of the desk.

“Are you ready to try something really relaxing?” You ask excitedly.

Your gaze is unmistakably on him, finally, his mind screams excitedly and he hides it very well with a nervous movement of his good leg.

“What is that?” He asks finally, he's not good at enduring mysticism.

You open your hands with the same excitement as a circus tent opens to show an endless number of wonders. There's a yellow metal box with rainbow stickers and happy faces painted with marker. Inside there was a green mass and another brown compacted, a lighter, small filters and small papers.

You laughed a little at his attitude. “It's a relaxation method. You're going to like it. Well... maybe not, but you have to try it.”

Viktor massages his chin while he analyzes everything, he has that skeptical look full of curiosity again, you can see the nuts and bolts in his mind turning.

“It's weed.” you confess, his eyes widen and search your gaze quickly, his eyes reflecting surprise. “Oh come on Viktor, what is science if not experimenting with new things? It counts as research.” The tone in your voice is playful, as if you're amused by the situation.

“What effects does it have?” If there was one thing Viktor never dabbled in, it was drugs. Even with his illness, he never thought about trying them. Not because he didn't know about them, they just didn't spark his interest. "I didn't know you were on drugs..." he murmurs, feeling a little foolish, he didn't consider you to be close friends so it's not like you had to tell him about it. A thorn of jealousy stung him when a voice in the back of his mind mentioned that maybe Jayce did know that and many other things about you.

"I don't, it was... a recent purchase, I just know that they relax you and make you feel really good for a few hours." You sigh and rest your head on your outstretched arm on the desk. "Do you want to try it? I mean, we can try it together if you want..." you say as your hand plays with a pencil near you. You don't want to look him in the eyes, you fear meeting a stern look and a big reproach.

"Sure, why not." was his answer, simple and perhaps a little nervous.

“This is going to be fun.”

Viktor watches you carefully as you roll the joint, studying your every action. He watches your hands take the thin, almost translucent paper that shines a little under the moonlight, watching it spread between your fingers as you make sure the sticky side is facing up and out. He look at your hands, soft and the shiny rings on them, and only one thought escapes you.

“I’d like to feel them…”

“What?” you reply to such an unexpected comment.

“Nothing,” he quickly says. “I was rambling,” he tries to justify himself, and you seem to believe him for a second.

“Okay…” Your movements were nervous, caused by the intensity of his gaze, making you more and more nervous about being the center of his absolute attention this time. You delicately crumble the buds. The sticky texture of the resin tried to stick to your fingers, releasing an earthy aroma, you take a bit of tobacco and crumble it up and let it rest on the grass. You take a small little filter and place it on one end. With agile fingers you lift the paper and begin to shape it, making sure everything is well distributed, you roll the paper and Viktor’s soul seems to leave his body when he sees you licking the edge before sealing it with a clean movement. His thoughts are reflected on his face as a faint blush spreads across his cheeks and his Adam’s apple rises shakily.

You offer him the finished joint with a satisfied smile, you hoped you had done all the steps right. Viktor takes it delicately, as if he had just witnessed a sacred ritual.

“What exactly is in it?” he asks, hoping the answer will take his attention away from his own thoughts a little.

“Weed, tobacco, patience…and the desire to share” You joke as you take out the lighter and put everything in the box, before hiding it in one of the drawers of his desk.

Viktor plays with the joint in his hand for a while, examining it. “Should I put it in my mouth?” he asks as you nod softly.

“I’ll light it” you move your chair closer to him, just a few centimeters from each other, you take the lighter from the table and bring it close to his face, with the glow of the flame you can clearly see his blush and how straight he is in his seat “Relax, I’m not going to set you on fire.” you murmured with a soft laugh. He didn’t answer, he just brought his face closer to you, not to the flame of the lighter, your body paralyzed at such a reaction, it was you who brought the flame closer to him and gently lit the joint.

Viktor's first drag was a tragedy in itself, he coughed as if his soul was leaving them while his eyes were watery as if he was dying, he had inhaled it all at once and swallowed it, so it was like watching a chimney moan. You quickly went to his aid by taking the joint from him, taking him to the window to get some air and gently hitting his back to get the remaining humor out of his lungs. Even so, you couldn't help but laugh awkwardly, you tried to hide it so he wouldn't think you were laughing at him but then it was a thousand times more noticeable.

“This can't be healthy…” he mentioned, hitting his back against the wall next to the window.

“Not if you do it like that” you mentioned covering your laughter with your hand.

“Do you find it funny to see me dying in the smoke?”He asked, he didn't seem upset, he just had his arms crossed with a sarcastic attitude, letting his back fall against the wall in the arch of the window.

“No…” you muttered before stopping hiding your laughter and letting it out freely. He just smiled and looked out the window, he felt a little silly about everything that had happened but at least he made you laugh and that was something.

Viktor’s skin crawled as your hand suddenly cupped his cheek. “You have a tear,” you said, wiping the small droplet that rolled down his cheek with your thumb. His arms fell heavily to the sides of his body. Before he could react properly, he let himself enjoy the touch, your touch, the feeling of you coming into contact with his skin. Although it only lasted a few seconds, he could still feel your touch when you pulled away.

“I’ll do it first so you can see, okay?” you said. You took the joint between your fingers elegantly and put it between your lips. You inhaled and held it for a few seconds before letting it out slowly. The smoke fell from your mouth and the wind carried it to Viktor, enveloping it in a cloud of smoke before dissipating into the air.

You approached him with slow steps, taking one of his hands and leaving the joint between his fingers. “It’s your turn,” you said, raising his hand to his mouth, “remember, don’t swallow the smoke,” you said in a joking tone.

“Ha ha, funny.” He rolled his eyes and brought the joint to his lips this time. He took a deep drag and held it for a while, holding onto his cane to use his free hand for something.

You were on the lookout for everything, in case he choked on the smoke again.

“Exhale,” you rested your hand on his chest, the small jump his chest made when he felt your fingers against his clothes was clear to you. Smoke came out from between his thin lips like a waterfall, you left your hand against his chest until you felt him breathe again. “My turn,” you said, taking the joint and taking another drag.

After a few puffs, Viktor is more relaxed and begins to notice things he wouldn't normally comment on. He looks at you with the curiosity of a small child.

“You know, you're surprisingly good at… this” he says as he holds the joint ready for another puff. “I thought only Jayce could convince me to do something stupid, but you seem more effective.”

You laughs, it's a rather polite comment coming from him. “Are you surprised? I have my methods.” You reply mischievously.

“Your methods…” he stares at you for a moment and mutters almost to himself. “They should be exclusive.”

As the joint gets smaller, the effect becomes much more noticeable. Viktor's eyes blink slowly and open like a deer's, his pupils almost completely obscuring the warm iris in his gaze. It doesn't take long for him to let out his first ramblings. By this point, they're both sitting on the floor, each in their own corner of the window with their legs outstretched.

“I like your eyes,” he blurts out of nowhere, clinging to his cane as if he were going to fall off if he doesn't. “It's fascinating. Like…like…like you're catching light in a jar.” He says with the sweetest smile you've ever seen. You're a bit stunned by his words, used to the reserved and serious Viktor, this is all a new air, you play along.

“Wow, was that a compliment? I should write it down for posterity,” you say, laughing. You've received compliments before, from people much more sober than Viktor is now, but it's different, that compliment hits differently, behind all the cool and carefree facade that comment manages to pierce your heart and leaves you sighing for that new side of Viktor. As if you discovered how hungry you were to receive something from him.

Viktor replied, with a smile that exuded confidence “You don’t need to write it down. I can tell you whenever you forget.”

You sighed “You’ll regret that so much when you’re sober…” you said. You didn’t want to take his words seriously, after all, believing someone on drugs was like believing someone drunk and that almost never went well. But it was advice that your own mind threw away right now.

While they were talking, Viktor, under the effects of the joint, began to think things that he normally wouldn’t say. “Why are you always so comfortable with Jayce?” he asks, letting his head fall against the wall, leaving his neck and collarbones bathed in light on display.

Confused, you arch an eyebrow “What? Jayce and I are friends, and he’s my boss, it would be terrible if I didn’t get along with him. Why are you asking?”

Viktor turns his gaze to you, you can feel a huge chill as you become his target, his hand playing with the cane at his side.

“You always laugh with him. You always flutter around him.” He says with a certain bitter tone that you can’t quite decipher. “It’s like he’s the only one who can make you laugh, the only one who deserves to enjoy you. I wish to have that.”

His answer surprises and intrigues you at the same time, you lean a little towards him wearing a mocking smile. The window isn’t very big, so it’s not like you’re far away anyway. “Are you jealous, Viktor?” The way you taste his name like honey runs through every nerve in his spine.

He’s clearly blushing, but he doesn’t back down, after all he has nothing to lose, if something goes wrong he’ll blame the drugs for everything.

“Maybe I am. What’s wrong with wanting your attention for me alone? Can't I want you?”

His words momentarily silence you, surprised by his sincerity. Something he takes advantage of to get closer to you, something you never thought he would do, he leans on his cane and before you know it your legs are trapped between his, and his free hand rests on your shoulder, caressing his way to your neck with his fingers. He looks so… surprisingly desperate, his breathing is irregular and his grip on his cane is weak. Having him so close makes the heat emanating from his body combine with yours, your heart is racing to have him so close and you have to use all your will not to do something stupid.

“It’s frustrating, you know? Seeing how you have such a good time with him and then you’re just silent with me… Don’t I deserve your laughter? Don’t I deserve your company?” You don't know how it hurts to want you, to want your smile, to want your gaze only on me, to want your touch desperately and see how you give it to someone else..." A gasp escapes his face and his body collapses, falling on your hip making you gasp in shock, everything is a mess "Want me, just want me."

"Viktor... You're... you're drugged... You're not seeing clearly." Your heart officially stops, his weight is against you, you can't and don't want to move. Each of his words ignites something inside you that could devour everything in its path.

He laughs, maybe because of nerves, maybe because of the effect of the grass or the tingling that your hands leave behind on his body, but he just laughs "I see enough to not want to share you with anyone else."

His gaze, normally focused and distant, now burned with something that seemed uncontrollable. There was tension in the air, a pent-up hunger that exploded the moment your arms wrapped around his neck.

He didn't wait any longer. With a quick, determined movement, he pulled you close, his cane clattering against the floor as he forgot about everything but you. His lips met yours with an almost brutal force, colliding with the intensity of lightning in the middle of a storm.

The first kiss was a chaos of urgency. Your mouths sought each other out like there was no tomorrow, lips parted, deep gasps escaping between each encounter. Viktor pushed you against the wall, his heavy, ragged breathing echoing in your ears. His hands, normally careful, were now hungry, desperate. One moved up your waist, running down your back under the fabric of your clothes, while the other leaned against the wall, locking you against his body.

You let yourself go completely, your fingers burying themselves in Viktor’s brown, tousled hair. His lips moved in a chaotic rhythm, alternating between wet kisses, bites on your lower lip, and that feverish exploration of your tongues that lit up your entire body. The soft sound of your mouths colliding and your panting filled the air, accompanied by your hands that now ran over his chest, his abdomen, without stopping.

When Viktor broke the kiss, it wasn’t to break away, but to drag his lips down your jaw, down to your neck. There, he left a series of wet, almost wild kisses, lightly sucking on the skin with a wet sound that drew a moan from your throat.

“You are...” he murmured against your neck, his voice raspy, broken, “incredible. I don’t want to stop.”

His words felt like caresses, so charged with emotion that your body trembled under his touch. Viktor's hands now slid down your waist, slowly moving up, exploring it with a reverence laden with desire. Each touch was a reminder of how much pent-up passion this man so accustomed to solitude harbored for you.

"Viktor..." you gasped against his neck, but he took your mouth again, cutting you off with another fierce kiss.

The sound of rustling clothes, of uneven breathing, and Viktor's soft grunts as he lost himself in you filled the room. His body was completely pressed against yours, and every movement of his seemed to be aimed at etching his presence into you, as if he feared it could all fade away at any moment.

When they finally broke apart, their lips were swollen, and their chests rose and fell rapidly. Viktor's eyes, normally filled with logic and calculation, were now deep pools of desire and devotion, reflecting every emotion he couldn't put into words.

“This isn’t enough,” he confessed, his voice shaking slightly as he looked at you as if you were the only important thing in the world. “It will never be enough with you.”

Your breathing was still ragged, the air between you filled with an almost palpable heat. Viktor kept his forehead resting against yours, his eyes closed, while his hand remained firmly on your waist, as if letting go was unthinkable.

“This is dangerous...” Viktor murmured, although the tremble in his voice made it clear that the idea of stopping was an almost impossible challenge. His fingers continued to absentmindedly trace the curve of your back, as if his body refused to break contact.

“More dangerous than what you do with Hextech?” you replied in a whisper, sketching a slight smile, trying to lighten the tension of the moment.

Viktor’s response was caught in his throat when you both suddenly heard the echo of footsteps in the hallway. You both tensed instantly, your bodies rigid as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over both of you. Realizing for the first time that dawn had already arrived and the sun was rising lazily on the horizon, the weed turned the hours into moments.

“Viktor, are you there?” Jayce’s deep, confident voice echoed just outside the door.

Viktor’s eyes snapped open, his pupils still dilated from the intensity of the moment. He cursed under his breath as he grabbed his cane from the floor, gesturing quickly towards the work table. You understood what he meant.

With your heart about to explode, you helped him stand up and hurried to adjust your clothes and move away from him, although your legs were shaking slightly from the heat still burning in your body. You pretended as best you could that nothing had happened, he walked over to his desk and you grabbed some papers from the floor.

The door opened barely a second later, not giving you time to fully regain your composure. Jayce walked in with his usual relaxed attitude, but his gaze narrowed instantly as he noticed the strange atmosphere that filled the room.

“Am I interrupting something…didn’t you go home Y/N?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, looking first at Viktor and then at you, lingering a second longer than necessary on your slightly swollen lips.

Viktor, always quick to react, stood up with his cane and pointed at a pile of papers scattered on his table.

“Nothing at all,” he said in his usual tone, though the slight blush on his cheeks betrayed his feigned calm. “We were just going over some calculations and cleaning up your mess.”

Jayce narrowed his eyes, clearly suspicious. He took in Viktor’s messy locks, the flushed cheeks on your face, and that palpable tension floating between the two of you.

“Going over calculations?” he repeated slowly, letting the phrase hang in the air with a mocking tone as he crossed his arms. “Because it seems that something else happened here.”

You forced a nervous smile as you began to organize the papers on the table, pretending the comment was outlandish. “Oh, come on Jayce, what could possibly happen here?” Your heart was still beating like a drum in your ears. Viktor, for his part, adjusted his posture and gave Jayce a sharp look, full of exasperation.

“If you have something important to say, do it quickly. We’re busy.” Viktor’s voice was sharp, as if he were trying to firmly divert attention.

Jayce tilted a smile, clearly amused by his friend’s reaction, but raised his hands in surrender.

“Relax, it’s nothing urgent. I just wanted to ask you something, but I can go get coffee while you finish. I don’t want to… interrupt your calculations.”

The emphasis on the last word followed him to the door, where he gave one last suspicious look before disappearing down the hall.

When the door finally closed, the silence in the room was deafening. You let out a nervous laugh, bringing your hand to your mouth, while Viktor let out a long sigh and let himself lean back against the table, holding himself up with one hand.

“This can’t happen again,” he murmured, though his eyes, still fixed on you, burned with an unmistakable desire that contradicted every word. “I don’t know how you make my brain feel so… scattered and focused at the same time.”

You smile and he replies mischievously as you drop your forehead on his shoulder, your breath brushing his neck. “It’s my secret talent.”

Viktor watches you for a moment and adds softly, “Then, save it for me.”

“Viktor, I think you’re too high to give romantic speeches.” You laugh softly and give him a small pinch on the arm.

“Maybe… but I’m not so high that I don’t know I want more than what’s happened tonight.” His arms wrap around your waist in a hug. His chest heaves with a small laugh. “Shall we have breakfast at my house?”

The answer is more than clear.

-------------

💕Thank you for the 100 followers even though we already passed 4 more, thank you for everything💕

[avelera]

I actually really love Mel/Jayce/Viktor as well as Jayce//Viktor and I actually think the show has a couple scenes that lend to a poly interpretation of the three of them (Mel and Jayce both literally handling Viktor’s crutch between them while talking about how much they care for him, hello?? The subtext writes itself) but I found myself staying focused on just Jayce/Viktor at first because it’s a bit simpler to write and because as much as I LOVE the implied moments of their intellectual, ambiguously romantic threesome, I’d need more of Mel and Viktor interacting to really close the loop for shipping it in my mind. As it is, it feels a bit more “This is Mel’s boyfriend, Jayce, and Jayce’s boyfriend Viktor” that Mel still cares about and respects mostly from afar.

I also think that Viktor and Jayce kind of left their relationship at “we’re partners in every sense of the word, why define it further?” And that definition maybe included romantic and sexual moments (at least for fic writer purposes lol) but the fear of losing the amazing working relationship they had, which is so rare in the academic world, kept them from seriously “defining” it as anything official on the person front, which allowed Jayce to take up with Mel without it being “cheating”.

Throw into that the rapid advancement of Viktor’s illness and I can easily see a scenario where Viktor didn’t force the issue and indeed, was happy to see that Jayce had someone else who loved him in his life, knowing he didn’t have much time left and it would take a miracle to save his own life. Basically, I don’t see Viktor as jealous of Mel as a person, even if he was wary / resigned towards Jayce’s political career and would have rather have had him in the lab more often.

There was a happy medium there, I think, where Jayce was happily balanced between the two of them without jealousy from either that the accelerating events of S1 basically prohibited as the crises began to unfold, forcing Jayce into the conflict with Zaun, and Zaun had always been a point of miscommunication and later tension between Viktor and Jayce. An inevitable one I think, since Jayce couldn’t possibly know what it was like to grow up there, and in the course of their work it probably only rarely came up and so wasn’t daily addressed until the crisis made it an ugly conflict between them.

Anyway, I’m mostly just rambling as I think my way through how I write Jayce and Viktor in the fic I’m finishing up. But mostly I wanted to make the point that I see Jayce’s relationship with Mel as real and important and not “getting in the way” of his relationship with Viktor indeed, Viktor and Mel at least seem mature enough to navigate a poly relationship and Jayce has a lot of love to give (he loves SO MUCH guys I’m emotional about it, he’s just a good kid who ended up in a shitty complex situation that went way over his head. Bro didn’t even know if his school OFFERED military history, he was such an easy target and this is why STEM kids need an introduction to liberal arts I swear).

I don’t think S2 is headed towards any sort of unambiguous happy ending for the three of them but there’s definitely a happy AU in my heart where the three of them make it work and are better together than just two out of the pair.

[deathbxnny]

Currently in a cfs/me flare up after losing my mind over the Arcane finale (lmao), and it’s been making me think about the characters keeping company to an exhausted & feverish reader. You can choose if you want to make it chronic illness related or more general, I’m just interested how you’d write them in a situation like that 🐁💖 Would love to see Vi, Caitlyn, and Viktor (pre-robojesus) if that’s okay :)) Both platonic and romantic are fine to me too!

Just wanted to add to the end that I loved your Timekeeper fic so much <3 Thank you for writing my request, it actually made me roll around my bed in joy :”D I hope days start getting better for you soon, stay safe 💖💖

Arcane characters with a chronically ill s/o. | Viktor, Caitlyn, Vi x Gn!Reader

Hey there, Anon! Sorry that it took so long to get to your request, but I hope you're doing better now! Im so glad to hear that you liked my last post too!<3

Content: Vague chronical illness, slight angst, fluff, can be read as platonic or romantic tbh, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》VIKTOR

He knows what it's like to deal with a chronical illness and, therefore, is the best prepared out of the three.

Viktor always has an eye on you and practically studied what makes your sickness get worse. He sees the patterns and tries his best to quickly get you out of situations that could provoke them.

Sometimes, he feels guilty that he isn't able to do more to help you, especially when he, too, is suffering. He appreciates your presence because of that, since you're a comfort to him and someone who understands how he feels. You spend a lot of time together, perhaps even cuddled up during darker days, just not to not feel alone.

He definitely makes your room extra comfortable whenever your flare-ups return. Viktor will get you your favorite food or drink and just sit by your bed until you feel a bit better.

Absolutely works in your room whilst you're laying sick in bed, as he's worried you may get worse in his absence. This indirectly also gets him out of the laboratory often, which does him way more good than he may realise.

All in all, he's the best person to have around when dealing with a difficult chronical illness.

》CAITLYN

She's hellbent on finding a cure one way or another. Cait is stubborn and doesn't take no for an answer. To her, even the impossible may become possible if she works hard enough. So expect the best doctors in Piltover to fuss over you at all times.

She might come off as overbearing at times, mainly because she's extremely worried about your health. Seeing you sick and exhausted all the time hurt her.

Definitely spoils you with anything and everything you want in hopes of distracting you from the pain you were in, even if it's just momentarily.

Tries taking walks with you at times, even if they are short and quick. She thinks that fresh air is good for your health and that you appreciate the time you spend together that way.

If you're feeling lonely, she'll lay in bed with you and speak with you about random topics, anything that comes to mind. She'll definitely also talk about work and the missions she went on.

She may not be able to relate to you, but she'll educate herself on everything regarding your health and illness in the hope of making life easier for you.

》VI

She feels helpless at times. She really does, and it hurts to see you hurt. Unable to really help or find a potential cure/doctor to make things easier, she becomes a little creative with the way she deals with it.

Vi is extremely overprotective and doesn't let you do much on your own. Expect her to do absolutely all the heavy lifting and some of the harder household chores, just so that you don't have to exhaust yourself even more.

Tries making your days better by thinking of fun and accessible things to do. She wants to distract you from the pain and give you a semi-normal life, as she believes you deserve at least that.

Longgg cuddle sessions in which you just talk and laugh. It's the best way to wind down during a flare-up. It also helps with any loneliness you may feel.

She tries using her connections with Cait and so on to get you some help when things get seriously bad. She's terrified of losing you and can't bear the thought of it. It keeps her up at night.

Every day may be a new challenge, but she'll never give up on you, that's for sure.

[sarcasm-is-my-form-of-attack]

Lessons in Restraint

Viktor x reader

After losing a bet to your partner, you end up having to deal with the consequences of your actions, no matter how much you beg.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, dom/sub dynamics, bondage

A/N: wrote this in a fugue state at 4am and finished it on public transit, I’m a god of creation lol. Not proofread at all but I like it. This is so horny and debauched have fun. Reblogs and comments make my day (I read every single one)

“You know, it’s incredibly satisfying to see you like this after talking such a big game.” His voice is lilting and thick and like a haunting melody that weaves its way into your brain and doesn’t leave, no matter how hard you try to expel it.

The smirk is audible and as you stare up at this man from your place on the floor, rage bubbles deep within you, flavoring the already cultivated desire that has been driving your instincts.

A bet. A stupid, idiotic, ridiculous bet was all it took to end up here: naked, bound, and kneeling before Viktor as if he were your king.

The bet had been simple.

“You have no self control.” He’d mocked you one late night in the lab as you lay draped over him on the small beat to hell couch they’d brought in for you. Basking in the post-sex glow, you laughed airily, your mind still a bit foggy and blissed out.

“Neither do you. Can you blame me? I’m a girl who knows what she wants.” You punctuated your statement by snuggling further into him.

A chuckle, then “Patience is a virtue. God you’re probably not even able to last a week without needing me.” His hands tracing lazy patterns on your back, sending shivers down your spine.

“Is that a challenge?” Your eyes narrowed at him from your place on his chest.

“Perhaps.”

He’d been right of course. You didn’t last a week without needing him, folding just on the morning of day 6, practically begging him to fuck you, touch you, anything at all.

The smirk that split his face was so vile and hypnotizing that you couldn’t take your eyes off of it. Of course, he obliged and fucked you so good you couldn’t walk for a day.

“You need lessons in restraint, humility. And seeing as you lost the bet…”

Which led you to right now.

Two in the morning.

Completely alone in his lab.

At his mercy.

The soft rope around your wrists and ankles caresses your skin, knots only tightening as you squirm. Wrist to wrist, ankle to ankle, and just for an added kick in the mouth, wrist to ankle. Knees spread and back arched as Viktor sat in his desk chair, which from this angle looked much more like a throne on which an emperor sat.

Alas, it would not be the benevolent kind.

“What, no witty comeback or retort for me? Are you all out of fight? Or are you just learning to mind your tongue?” he leans forward, forehead almost touching yours but not quite. He hasn’t touched you in over an hour. Just lingering stares or fabric or even the occasional breath of air. Nothing else.

“Or…” he leans close to yours ear, “you’re just being quiet to avoid the shame?” White hot fear washes over you. It’s so hot it’s freezing and you want to simultaneously worm away from the sensation and also surrender to it.

“Pity. This is a lesson in humility. Obedience. Discipline. Trust.” His voice softens at the last word and there’s a brief moment where his gaze shifts, full of adoration and love and awe. It doesn’t last long though; enough for you to smile back, and give a quick confirmation that ‘yes you’re ok and want to keep going’.

“Well? Nothing at all?” He sits back up, towering over you and you cannot help but avert your gaze underneath his stare. It pins you to the wall like a pretty butterfly in a shadowbox.

“Unh-unh…” he tuts disapprovingly and it’s all the warning before the end up his cane is tipping your chin back up, allowing you to properly look at him.

“None of that. So rude, absolutely no manners. You should be ashamed of yourself.” He stares down the length of his cane at you, eyes molten and burning as he speaks.

“I…” but there’s nothing you can really say for yourself now. He’s right. As he usually is. You are ashamed.

“No? Not a thing in that pretty little head of yours is there?” He removes his cane from your chin and lets it fall to the floor, hands folding on his lap as he ponders what to do with you.

Eyes rove over your twitching body, no doubt a puddle of wetness below you dripping from your aching core. It’s pathetic and humiliating and some sick fucked up part of you relishes in it. He knows it too, head tilting as he looks down.

“Oh, poor thing. You’re just drenched aren’t you?” the mockery in his voice stirs a frustrated whimper out of you, pulls it from your chest like one would pull a hook from the stomach of fish who’d swallowed it. Bloody and violent and unable to do a damn thing about it.

“Such a pretty sound.” It’s not to you, just musing to himself. You whine again, roll your hips as you stare up at him, hoping he’ll take pity on you. Touch you.

“Viktor…you’re being cruel…” your voice is fucked out and ragged, despite the lack of stimulation. He’s brought you this close with barely anything but his voice and a few lengths of rope. A feat, really. He’ll brag about it for the rest of your life.

“Am I? Or are you just not prepared to accept that your actions have consequences?”

“I just wanna touch you…” you crane your neck up at him, staying rooted to your spot but reaching. He is a planet and you a mere comet pulled into his gravitational field, circling.

He thinks for a moment, you can see the gears working in his head.

“You want to cum?” No one, nor any amount of liquor could get you to admit how earnestly you nodded your head at his words, how desperately. With a quick move you weren’t expecting, he bends forward in his seat and wraps a pale hand around your throat. The sensation is near overwhelming as he hasn’t touched you in an hour, fingers now digging into the delicate column holding up your head.

“I think…” he tilts your head this way and that, ever the scientist, taking in every observation, every bead of sweat, every tremble, “…I have a compromise that will suffice.”

With a bit of a gentler hand, he pulls you forwards by your neck, his own rolling chair moving to meet you as you shuffle forward. He pulls you closer, closer, until his knee is flush with your sternum, and you’re situated directly over his shoe.

Fear washes over you, curls its fingers into your hair, your spine, your stomach.

“You want to cum so bad?” He jerks up his foot at the end of his sentence, bumping it against your clit in a way that has you nearly doubling over and letting out a strangled yelp.

“Go ahead, sweet thing.” Your neck is still in his grip, so you know he can feel the way your pulse races forward like an engine.

“B-but-“ a protest forms in your mouth but it’s squeezed out of you as his hand tightens.

“I’m sorry, but you’re not making the decisions around here. And that wasn’t a request. Do it.” His tone is icy and piercing and it scares you in a way that urges you forward, letting the humiliation continue to worm its way into your synapses.

He lets go, a little roughly, and straightens his back, looking down at you as if you were an amusing pet.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you shut your eyes briefly and take a deep breath, pushing it out rather forcefully.

The first roll of your hips is torturous. It’s friction you haven’t had in hours, so sensitive and swollen that the leather and lace send fireworks through you.

But it’s something, and you’ve been so patient, so agonizingly horny that you’ll take anything. And he knows that.

And the motherfucker is laughing.

“Oh…wow…I didn’t think you’d actually do it. Just so eager to please and be pleased aren’t you?” A deceptively gentle hand caresses your cheek and you lean into it instinctively, the sweetness juxtaposed to his cruel treatment making your head spin a bit.

“What base creatures we humans are. Willing to throw pride and dignity aside all for a biological need to fuck each other like rabbits. All for the pleasure of climax. Slaves to our hormones; all the blood being sent to your swollen cunt, none left for your brain.” The last bit is a coo, a mocking pity that weighs heavy on your sensation addled mind. His hand on your cheek is a cool balm on your feverish skin, tracing your cheekbone in reverence as the words he spits tear at you.

You move faster, chasing the high that is slowly but surely building in the lowest part of your stomach. It’s a dull burn that exponentially increases in intensity and heat. Every word he says is a stoke to the catching blaze.

A low rumble of appreciation stirs from Viktor’s chest, and the pride that swells in you as you look up at his appraising gaze pushes much of the embarrassment aside. The joy of approval, the delicious praise that a mere look can bestow; you need it like you’ve never needed anything before.

“Oh you are splendid, sweet thing. Such a good girl, so eager to please.” His hand drifts to your open mouth, fingers dancing along the pad of your lip. With no other instruction, you lean forward and take two of his fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digits in such a lewd manner that the workers of the brothels would blush.

There’s a small intake of breath from your Viktor, a brief slip of composure as he stares at you in awe. His eyes sparkle with want and need and adoration.

“You…are perfect, so wonderful for me.” His other hand cradles your head as his fingers push in deeper, pressing down on your tongue slightly. You double your efforts at his sweet words, spurred on with renewed vigor. For me. Yes. For him, always for him, his, his, his, his.

“Oh you liked that did you? You like when I tell you how good you’re doing for me? How beautiful you look there on your knees, fingers in your mouth, truly you put fine art to shame. You were made for this, perfect, so perfect.” He muses, and the heat in your core grows hotter with every breath he takes to speak. Your poor hips are stuttering, so desperately close to cumming all over his pristine leather shoes. Moans spill forth around his fingers as you lose your grip on sanity, oh but what a sweet descent into madness it is.

“Go on. Go on darling, cum. That’s it, make a mess of yourself, that’s it, good girl, oh…” he marvels at you as you contract into him, the force of your orgasm pulling a strangled scream from your lungs. It’s wave after wave of white hot ecstasy, and your hips undulate a few more times as you ride it out, milking it for every last drop. His hand retracts from your mouth and he holds you, cupping your face in his hands.

“Wonderful darling, you did wonderful, absolutely perfect. So good, so good for me.” Fingers card through your hair, hands guiding your head to rest on his knee. You’re grateful for the support, it’s getting awful hard to keep your head up. The thigh of his good leg is sturdy and strong from baring the brunt of his weight. It’s grounding beneath you.

Slowly but surely, your breathing evens out, his hands petting your hair reverentially, holding you as you come down from your high. You stay like that for a while, until your knees start to hurt and your wrists ache, causing you to whimper at the newly forming pain.

“Are you alright lásko? Can I move you?” He whispers, hands never stopping his movements. You nod against his leg, weak but sure.

“M’good. Just go slow.” Your voice is hoarse and crackly from exhaustion. He bends down, kisses your head, and picks it up off of his thigh. With a twist, he adjust his chair so it’s a bit lower to the ground, closer to you. He reaches around, kissing your shoulder as he does so, and unties the ropes around your wrists and ankles. They fall away, and your arms instinctively reach for him.

“Soon, miláčku. Can you stand?”

“Mhm.” He grips your hands, helping you to your feet, and you’re alright for the most part, just a bit shaky. Viktor reaches for his cane, stands, and leads you by the hand to the couch in the corner of the lab. The leather is cool against your skin as he situates you in the cushions.

“I’ll be right back, just getting you water. Wrap the blanket around you alright?” You nod, his voice your tether to reality. In mere moments he’s back with water in hand, and not long after he’s sitting next to you, pressing you into his good side, arm an anchor over your shoulders. You curl instinctively into him, clutching the blanket around yourself.

“Are you sure you’re ok, sweet thing?”

“I’m sure Viktor.” Your voice has returned to you, as has most of your facilities. The weight of Viktor against you helps immensely.

“Wow.”

“Wow indeed.” He knocks his head against yours, and you laugh, snuggling further into him.

“I can’t say I didn’t know you had it in you, because you’re the most in control person I’ve ever met, but holy shit Vik.” The smell of his cologne and shampoo washes over you as you nestle closer into his neck, so ineffably him.

His cheek is pressed to the top of your head as he says , “I hope that is a positive ‘holy shit’.”

“Oh certainly.” You sit up slightly to look him in the eyes, “Vik. That was amazing. I…you were fantastic. It was everything I could’ve wanted.” A dopey smile spreads across your face and you can see the blush forming on his cheeks, the pride swelling in his chest.

“Thank you for trusting me with you.”

“Vik I trust you with my life.” You kiss his cheek, and he chuckles, a pretty sound that you wish you’d hear more often. But as the months go by, it’s starting to become a bit more familiar.

“And I trust you with mine.”

“Yeah but I just use that leverage to get you to bed at night so you don’t die of sleep deprivation.” He snorts as he pulls you in closer to him.

“Isn’t it common practice for someone in your position to nap after a scene?”

You laugh, but acquiesce and snuggle into him further, “you’re just deflecting, one day I’ll fix your sleep schedule.” But your eyes are already closing and his hands are playing with your hair.

“Sure, lásko. Sleep well. I love you.”

You smile, though you’re already halfway to sleep, “love you too.”

[motthe]

OKAY- idk if requesting twice is okay or not- but if you have the time! Can we see more Mel and reader (lumen au or otherwise)? Where reader has what is essentially Amara’s job but more so a bodyguard type? Mel helped them out at one point and now they protect her and help her with whatever she needs! (Like finding a gift for Jayce or Passive aggressively spitting her mother) and she does the same for them with viktor and egotistical higher ups? Basically just them being each others solace, confidant that knows of the others past while helping them get to the future they deserve with Jayce x Mel & Viktor x reader sprinkled in, (first meetings, first signs of affection, etc) for all parties!

(can be ignored if your busy or otherwise dw ;3)

I hope you enjoyed this!!! I took some creative liberties and placed this in S1 arc 1 :)

warnings: gn!reader, mention of scars and sleep problems, non-sexual nakedness (you’ll get it when you read lol)

Mel rose from her desk, the wide reaching window behind her dark. There were always a few days out of the week she would stay late. She never left anything half-finished and if it wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t finished. 

“Fancy a stroll through the Academy?”

You repositioned yourself from leaning against the wall, raising an eyebrow. The woman approaching you was an esteemed council member and a child of Noxus. Above all that, she held a dangerously sharp mind. 

With you, a trained guard from birth and accepted by her bitch of a mother, you two made quite the confidants. 

“Why?” you asked, knowing you were going whether you fancied the idea or not. Where she went, you went. 

“Why not?” Her grin was infectious, but you saw the mischief swimming in her eyes. 

“It’s far past lockup, for one,” you began, grabbing the door for her. Your belt clicked with the movement, the weight of your gun and knives shifting. “We also have no business with the Academy.”

“We may not, but I have a feeling someone does.”

You hummed, your steps shadowing hers for every beat. Every turn down a hall, your eyes were skating for anything amiss. “This wouldn’t have something to do with a certain expelled scientist, would it?”

She hummed, smiling and confident from where you walked adjacent. 

That poor man, you couldn’t help but think. Catch Mel’s eye and you’re stuck under a microscope until she loses interest. 

“Maybe Heimerdinger has stayed late with that assistant of his,” she said, gaze cutting to you. Your eyes narrowed in warning. 

You changed the subject. “What makes you think that Talis fellow would sneak into the Academy the night of his expulsion?”

“His things are to be destroyed tomorrow morning.” 

“If we get all the way to the Academy and you’re wrong—” you complained. 

“A trip to your favorite spa, paid.” She stopped, tilting her head towards you. “And if I’m right?”

You grumbled, rolling your eyes. “I’ll pose for that painting.”

She pursed her lips, flexing her fingers. 

You crossed your arms and bit out, “No.”

“It’s nude or nothing, darling,” she teased. “I need the practice.”

“You need nothing,” you scoffed, continuing in front of her to check the entrance to the council’s building. The usual enforcer’s we’re making their rounds, tipping their hats to you. 

Mel stepped out next to you, shoulder nudging yours. Your sigh trailed into the night air. 

“Fine.”

Her golden freckles crinkled with the grin that pulled at her lips. 

.

“Did you bring a flashlight?” Mel asked quietly. You gave her the flattest expression known to man in response. “May I borrow it, please?”

“No, you may not,” you answered. Even in the dark you sensed her scowl as you passed, taking up the front. “If I need to shoot someone, I need to see.”

“So violent,” she murmured. “Honestly, he doesn’t seem the type.”

“Then he’d make the perfect assassin,” you chuckled, lowering your voice as you opened the door to the staircase. “Besides, we want to go undetected, don’t we?”

“If no trouble is afoot, then I wouldn’t mind a second look at this research,” she revealed, only adding to a long night ahead. 

“What are you expecting to find?” 

She chuckled. “I do love a good surprise.”

You scoffed quietly as you climbed the steps ahead of her. “You would, miss know-it-all.”

Reaching the floor that held Heimerdinger’s office, you glanced through the window on the door before slipping it open. Mel kept her steps light as you both moved through the darkness. As you crept on, you noticed a faint glow reaching around the corner and glanced at Mel, scowling. 

She wore the look of a winner in the blue-tinted of the moonlight shining through the distant window. Slowly, she mouthed the word ‘nude’.

You shook your head, pulling your flashlight out as you motioned her to follow you. The tinkling of keys and the gears of a lock turning left you with one hand on your gun and the other pointing the flashlight forward. You held off on spotlighting the infiltrator when you noticed two figures sneaking around Heimerdinger’s door. 

“So far so good,” came a familiar ethnolect. You clicked the flashlight on to confirm your suspicions. 

Oh, shit. 

Jayce Talis and Viktor, of all people, were caught red handed, hands guarding their eyes as they were overwhelmed by the brilliance. 

“Willing to risk exile for your endeavor,” Mel spoke, taking up the space on your right as she stared the two men down. “That’s quite the conviction.”

“A counselor,” Talis breathed. 

Viktor chose another path, turning towards the door in a dramatized show of confusion. “Wait a minute, this isn’t my bedroom…”

“Guess those aren’t your keys either?” you hummed, moving your hand off your weapon as he looked up at you. 

“Actually, they are permitted to be in my possession,” he corrected as he stood from his crouch.

“Just like you’re permitted to be here, past lockup,” your eyes fled towards Talis before focusing his pinched gaze “with a freshly expelled student.”

“Eh,” he shrugged, “that one, not so much.”

“Please,” Mr. Talis begged, stepping in front of Viktor, eyes locked on Mel. You positioned yourself between them, hand back on your gun as you pointed the flashlight towards the man. He winced, only passing you a slight flare in retaliation. “We can prove that it works.”

“You couldn’t do so earlier today,” Mel pointed out, expression deadened and feigning disinterest. Seen you had two actors in your midst. “How is tonight any different?”

“We figured out how to stabilize it,” Viktor explained. 

“I’m surprised to find the professor's assistant mixed up in this,” she murmured to you. 

“No, he’s my new partner,” Talis argued, placing a hand on Viktor’s shoulder. Your stomach tightened. 

“Even if you managed to prove your theory the council would destroy it.” Mel burst their bubble with brutal honesty. 

“Heimerdinger will recognize the potential,” Viktor stated. 

“He already does,” she told him, “it scares him. It scares them all.”

“What about you?” Talis asked, determined. 

“I recognize that any worthwhile venture involves risk…” 

Your head turned a second before theirs, picking up on the whistling and footsteps. The night guard was heading this way. Harold. He was always the noisiest, sweetest thing. The old man refused to retire so they put him up here at the Academy. 

“There’s your risk,” you muttered. 

“Counselor,” hissed Talis, “this technology, it’s real and no matter what happens here it’s going to change our world. We should be the ones to lead it—Piltover, the land of progress, equality, innovation. I know it sounds impossible, but when have we ever let that stop us. Please, just give us a chance!”

You stepped back beside Mel, meeting her eyes. She let the two men sweat a bit as the footsteps grew closer. 

“One night. Gentleman,” she said slowly, turning to leave. “Impress me or I’d suggest you pack your bags.”

As she walked away, you noticed the awed look in Talis’ eyes and nearly groaned. She always had to draw in the big dreamers. 

You threw Viktor a sly smile, handing him the flashlight seeing as that poor pen light wasn’t going to be much help. “Good luck, Goggles.”

You switched it off as he accepted it, fingers brushing as you left them to hide in the darkness. You caught up with your principal just as she was moving around the corner.

“Harold!” she sang, nearly sending the sweet old man into a heart attack. You held back a laugh as Me” moved him back down the hall and away from the chaotic scientists behind you. 

Left to their own devices, Viktor clicked on your flashlight and got back to opening the five-bolt door. As he crouched back down, Jayce took over holding the light for him. 

“So,” he murmured, back to the silence of an empty school, “you and the bodyguard are a thing?”

Viktor nearly dropped the keys. “Excuse me?”

“Goggles?” 

“It is a long story,” he whispered, pushing the door open as the last lock unlatched, “and we are not the ‘thing.’ Now get in.”

.

“We’re to return before dawn.”

You turned from toweling your hair to stare down Mel in her bubble bath. She hasn’t bothered to wait until you were done in your own bathroom to fetch you. She wasn’t usually so clingy, but you knew under that cool facade she was nervous of what was to come with the scientists. 

“Why do we have to lose precious sleep over this?” you grumbled, grabbing your toothbrush. 

“You?” she laughed, splashing her water over her knees. “You barely sleep as is.”

“Yeah, well,” you spit the mess of toothpaste and spit from your mouth, “blame your mother for that.”

“I blame her for many things.”

The scars over your body burned, but not from sticky, humid air. You both were quiet for a time. 

“I didn’t expect him to be there.” You turned around, pulling yourself up on the marble counter to look at her. “Viktor, I mean.”

“Guess he saw whatever you did in Talis.”

She puckered her lips at you, arms dropping over the rim of the bathtub as she laid her head on them. “Is that jealousy I hear, darling?”

“Shove it,” you scoffed, moving to do one last check of the place before heading to your room. “Also, he was definitely staring at you as you left.”

“Then you have no reason to worry.”

“Goodnight,” you bit out, shutting the bathroom door on her echoing giggles. 

.

When you knock on Mel’s door she’s back in the same clothes she wore hours earlier. It’s an hour to dawn and barely takes three minutes to reach the Academy. You hadn’t slept a wink.

Offering her a coffee, you both finished them before you were out the door. The guards at the gate gave you groggy second glances, but questioned nothing. 

You sensed the alarm in the empty halls, banging thundering through the stairwell as you both took one glance at the other and sped up your pace. 

You held an arm out as you glanced around the dark corner, eyes widening at the new blue-tinted glow that shined from Heimerdinger’s office. 

“You’ve actually done it…” The professor's voice was beyond astonishment. “But just because it can be done, doesn’t mean—will you please stop hovering?!”

“I’m not sure how to do that sir!”

Your mask nearly slipped. It was the first time you’d ever heard Viktor so…gleeful. 

Mel stalked down the hall, eyes bright with purpose. It reminded you of younger days before she slowed her steps, bringing out Counselor Medarda

“This is not what Piltover’s future looks like, my dear boys!”

The click of her heels alerted everyone as she pushed through the guards, the light of the room washing over her form. 

“That’s for the council to decide,” she stated, head turning from side to side as she observed the room. Being right behind her, you allowed awe to slip at the twinkling bits wandering the room and high above were those troublesome scientists. “Perhaps it’s time for the era of magic.”

“Uh, Hextech,” came Jayce Talis, hair sprawling out with the anti-gravity field he was caught up in. “For the era of Hextech.”

Your eyes slid from his to hers, the slender grin on her lips speaking more than praise in his direction. Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help as they caught on Viktor who looked far too happy to be completely suspended upside down. He kept throwing little objects nearby towards the glistening orb at the center of the room, watching it with interest as it blipped from one side to the other. 

Some round object hovered a bit too close on the opposite side he was facing. You couldn’t help but laugh when it was transported to his side, knocking into his forehead with enough force to make him jump. 

Your voice alerted him, eyes finding yours as you cleared your throat and fixed your metaphorical mask back into place. 

“How long will this last?” asked Mel. 

The young men looked at each other for an answer that neither seemed to have. You eyed the bright orb between them, noticing it was slowly but surely shrinking in size. 

“I suggest you find your way down before you find out,” Heimerdinger called. 

“Right,” Jayce said, waving his arms until he was able to float to the ceiling. He pushed off it, getting about halfway down before gravity seemed to take hold again. He just missed a smaller table in the corner, landing with a painful grunt. 

Heimerdinger tested the space first, his hair seemed to react a bit, but he was able to make his way towards his previously expelled student with ease. You wandered in next, feeling your hair lift from your scalp as the guards were waved away by Mel. She ordered them to fetch the other council members for an emergency meeting in a few hours time. 

“The power source is growing smaller,” you warned Viktor who was still playing around with it near the roof. 

“Yes, without the cranking its energy is used up,” he muttered, more to himself than you as another object flashes through it. It shrunk by at least an inch. “Still such raw power…”

The bits of light hovering around the space were closing in. Your hair returned to its natural state. 

“Uh, Viktor,” Jayce called. 

“How big can the object be?” the man hummed, tossing a book to the orb. You stood below him, eyeing where he’d fall. The dots connected just as the book went through and the blue light went out like a candle flame in the wind. Jayce yelled. 

Your back connected with Heimerdinger’s desk, sending it scraping back in a chorus of something else moving just as gravity claimed Viktor. He knocked the air out of you as he landed on top of you. The ground shook as something else hit the ground nearby. 

You winced as the office lights burst above, taking in a slow, groaning breath. 

“Good heavens,” came Heimerdinger. “Are you three all right?”

Turning your head from the mess of Viktor’s hair in your vision, you saw Jayce lying face down on a tipped over chair with his hand fist glowing. 

“Yeah,” he said into the ground, “just thought I’d catch the crystal before it took out another building.”

“My apologies,” Viktor murmured, expression twisted in discomfort as he pushed himself off your chest. 

“S’fine,” you choked out, still catching your breath. “We’re all victims of physics.”

That broke the tension, or perhaps the adrenaline was still running high amongst the men because they both busted out into hysterics. Well, Jayce did. Viktor just chuckled and focused on getting his entire weight off of you. 

You slowly sat up, rubbing the back of your head where it had clipped the damn desk. 

“Did you hit it?”

You glanced at Viktor, dropping your hand. “I’m good, Goggles. Better than you would’ve been crashing into straight wood.”

“It’s pure oak!” preened Heimerdinger as he scuffled over, tapping the surface. “Very durable.”

“I’ll say,” you grumbled, feeling a headache coming on. 

“You should get that checked. You might have a concussion,” Viktor said, resting his back against the bookshelf behind him. Jayce had finally gotten to his knees, looking a bit bruised as far as his ego went when he glanced at Mel by the door. 

“I’ve seen them take a hammer to the head,” your principal chuckled. “They’ll be fine, I assure you.”

“It’s not bleeding,” Heimerdinger hummed. You balked at him peering around the desk. “How’s your eyesight?”

“Clear,” you said, getting to your feet. “Thank you, professor.”

Viktor remained on the ground. 

“Are you all right?” you asked. “I’m not the softest landing.”

“I’m unharmed,” he answered, nodding behind you. “My cane, however, will need to be replaced.”

You followed his line of sight and frowned at the white stick, cracked in two. 

“I’ll buy you a new one,” Jayce promised as he walked over, offering a hand. 

“I'll see you at the meeting,” Mel announced, eyes piercing the founder of Hextech before moving to his partner’s as he got to his feet. “Both of you.”

You moved the desk back into place, nodding to the professor as he thanked you. 

Hearing your name, you turned as Viktor offered your flashlight. 

“You dropped this,” he murmured, a smile hiding in the corner of his lips. 

“I’m sure it’s broken after that fall,” you said, checking it. The light sputtered before going out. 

“Allow me to fix it, then.”

You blinked at him, smiling at the back and forth before clearing your expression and handing it back. Your fingers brushed. 

“Sure,” you said, following after Mel. “I’ll grab it another time.”

Out in the hall, she smirked at you, unabashed. 

“You couldn’t have had the meeting in the afternoon?” you complained, rubbing your head. 

“I have an appointment at the spa with a friend of mine,” she replied. 

You sighed and kept your mouth shut, leading her out of the building and back home to freshen up again. 

“You know I might need a second opinion when I’m painting you,” she hummed as you both eased into the early light of dawn. “Viktor wouldn’t happen to be a student of the arts as well, would he?”

“You’re lucky I’m the one protecting you and not the one after you,” you growled. 

Back in Heimerdinger’s office, the men were helping clean up the mess they left behind while Heimerdinger lectured them, observing all the while from his chair. 

“Didn’t know you did repair jobs,” muttered Jayce as he shoved a book back into its shelf. 

Below him where Viktor was attempting to put the ‘cranker’ as it were back together, the man rolled his eyes. “I felt I owed it to them seeing as I failed to take care of it.”

“Right, of course.”

Viktor didn’t enjoy the amused silence seeping from his newly acclaimed business partner and slowly tilted his head to glare up at him. “Do you have something else to say?”

“Nope,” answered Jayce, eyebrows bouncing up, “nothing at all, Goggles.”

Viktor sighed. All it took was one day of brain fog and a run-in with you to earn him such a distasteful nickname. At least it taught him to check his goggles were off before leaving the lab from now on.  

“No slacking!” said the professor, swiveling in his chair to shuffle the papers scattered around his desk. “Honestly, I’m not sure how Counselor Medarda’s guard moved this desk. I thought it was bolted to the floor!”

Viktor swallowed as Jayce whistled. 

[sillyboycam]

“I would bring you rings of gold, I’d even sing you poetry!”

“Oh would ya’?~”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I told you they’ve been on my mind.

Oh yeah, I also watched one of my favourite movies httyd2 and y’know… got a little into it as usual..

I’ve had this idea in my mind for a while, definitely before I watched httyd2 but AFTER watching season 2 of Arcane I decided “Man, this would make a GREAT drawing” .

And here we are!

Anyways this is a sort of “Au” I’ve made, Viktor as Valka, leaving and everyone thinking he’s “dead”.

While I put Jayce as Stoic, because, in retrospect they’re both people of power. Leaders that have a pretty tough life, along with losing their loved one(s). Also, Jayce finally got a beard and you know what Stoic looks like.

Since Valka and Stoic obviously had Hiccup, in my mind I think Jayce and Viktor both adopted a kid to be theirs. (Also to be the next chieftain, since they’re both men of course.) His name is Jekkel, and he’s similar to each of them in terms of appearance. His personality leaning a little towards Viktor’s rather than Jayce’s.

They’d also adopt a little girl named Viyati. (They were especially happy with the name since they picked it themselves) Viyati is the youngest dragon rider of her tribe so far. Her personality is definitely more like Jayce’s as she’s always putting herself and her brother out there. With, of course, boundaries kept in place as Jekkel isn’t usually one to actually want to be out there.

So Viyati always respects him and his needs.

>>>>>>

Viktor’s dragon would be a LightFury,

Jayce’s would be a TimberJack,

Jekkel’s would be a DeathSong,

And (ironically) I think I’d give Viyati a Screaming Death. (ie, smallest little dragon rider gets a big ass scary looking dragon, and it loves her)

>>>>>>

In this Au neither Jayce nor Viktor would die, but, would come super duper close to it many, many times.

>>>>>>

Viktor’s clothes consist of a big white hood rimmed with white tipped red fur, and lots of designs traced onto the hood itself in an off-white.

A black Viking tunic with purple embroidery along the edges and the neckline adorns him, with armour on his chest. Black and scaled.

His arms would be wrapped in white leather from the forearm down, tied in neat bows.

Giant white fur boots with black pants is what he wears on the daily. A spiky belt adorns his sleek waist.

Last thing, he has black scaled arm warmers! In which the white leather wraps around. In a cute bow of course.

>>>>>>

Jayce’s outfit would be a bit more complex, as well as the kids, so if you’d like me to go more in depth I’d be happy too! (Just not in this post, I’m not one to make long descriptions lol)

>>>>>>

Viktor is actually married to Jayce in this one! Their wedding was beautifully done (weeps…) and their rings were gorgeous. This means, the whole family is a Talis!

So that’s; Jayce Talis, Viktor Talis, Jekkel Talis, and Viyati Talis. Also Jayce’s mother, Ximena Talis. She’s a very important figure in the village, a wizard with talents for medicine.

>>>>>>

I have tons of more ideas and I’d love to tell you them all. If you’re interested, let me know!

Anyways this might’ve already been done… but I’m not sure. If it has do let me know! I’d love to chat with that person ;]

Okay,

I hope you enjoy this one!

Love you all

as always art is by me —————> @sillyboycam

[captain039]

PART 4 Unconventional Alpha

Alpha!Viktor x omega!reader

Warnings: Heats, suppressants, AOB, light swearing, Viktor’s not dying but still disabled, reader has chronic pain, plus size reader, nesting, Older Viktor, Professor Viktor, artistic reader, age gap reader is in their 20s +, smut?

Notes: Sorry it took so long I’ve been having some bad vertigo lately 😭

Previous part <-

You didn’t end up telling him anything. Just hobbling back to your room, feeling like shit. You send an email to your teacher explaining you’re going to need a few weeks off to recover, you don’t go into details but you get Dr Marion to send him a note too. You’ll do your work from your room instead. You’re not prepared mentally or physically you stare at your suppressant pills and wonder if you could get away with taking one as normal, but you heard the doctor and didn’t want to make this any worse than it was. So it was time to stock up and prepare for a heat, fucking great.

You’re lucky this academy is the size of Piltover itself you swear. There are shops here, a doctor’s office, a pharmacy office, a cafeteria, the teaching grounds then the dorm grounds the grand hall as well. You feel like a crazy survivalist person stocking up on items for the end of the world, but like hell you’d go anywhere when your heat hits, and like hell you’d ask anyone for help or food deliveries.

Viktor feels he may lose his mind if this equation doesn’t figure itself out in five minutes. He can’t stop thinking about you. Your face, how unwell you looked. When you left the doctor you were stuttering, not wanting to tell him so he assumed it was personal only now his mind is running wild with every probability. He’s half tempted to pull rank as a head of the academy and alpha to see what’s wrong, but he wouldn’t do such things to invade your privacy. He also can’t help how adorable you looked in that oversized hoodie like you wanted to be swallowed up by the clothing. He throws his chalk down onto the table before grabbing his cane and storming out of his lab. His brows furrowed in thought before he spots a familiar figure. He slows watching you with your bags of items and hurrying back to your room a frown on his face. His curiousness tugs him to go check on you while his logic side knows he should keep his distance regarding academy rules and let you get better. You weren’t contagious though not that he’s worried he would risk getting sick if he could see you.

“Food, water, towels, blankets” you list out loud to yourself unpacking the food and water and putting it in the mini-fridge you bought a while ago. You feel restless needing to prepare yourself for a heat. What are you supposed to do? You end up sitting down and searching for it on your laptop before you snap your laptop shut as soon as a ‘knot dildo’ shows up on your screen and your cheeks go bright red. Surely it wasn’t that bad? Was it? You pace your room a bit chewing on your nails, you’ve already missed your second dose now, nearing bedtime. One in the morning one at night. Now there’s nothing in your system, sort of, nothing new in your system. You try to think back to your first heat but that hardly compares to now, your first heat was more like a flu, and now it’s the need to mate. Fucking omega genetics. You take a small breath trying to calm yourself, you keep glancing at your bed, hands shaking and twitching before you give in and begin stripping your bed and remaking it into a nest. You’re too caught up, mumbling to yourself getting angry when something doesn’t feel right to even hear the knock at the door. You groan in frustration throwing a pillow across the room before you hear your name in a familiar accent. You look out the archway to your bedroom and see Professor Viktor at the door which is opened. He’s stood frozen, nose flaring his hand shaking as it hovers above the doorknob, his eyes snap to yours in a predatory gaze you’ve never seen.

“Viktor” you gulp suddenly as he takes a small breath.

“I-I’m sorry the door was unlocked and I heard your commotion,” he says voice cracking slightly.

“I- uh” you gulp a bit.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have barged in on you like that it was wrong of me” he looks to the ground like he’s mentally kicking himself. Your rationality is out the window the moment you catch his scent. You grip the archway in the wall and shudder before you hide. You lean against the wall panting heavily mind reeling. A perfectly well-aged alpha is standing at your door while you’re like this.

“Miss Y/n?” He calls out and you feel your legs shake at the lowness, the thickening of his accent.

“You should leave. I’ll- I’ll be fine, out of commission for a few weeks” you chuckle nervously.

“I’m sorry to barge in on you” his voice is still low and you run a hand down your face pinching the bridge of your nose.

“It’s alright, Viktor” you call back.

“If- if you need anything send me an email, I’ve left a card on your table by the door ok?” He says before the door closes and you groan sliding to the floor in a heap.

You pick up the small business card noticing the cursive handwriting on the back, it’s slightly shaky though. You stare at the card for too long before you walk back to your room and put it on your bedside table. You continue to stare at it, leg jogging as you sit on the edge of your bed. Your nest is being forgotten by thoughts of the alpha.

“It’s fine, everything will be fine you are an adult and can handle this” You give yourself a pep talk and nod.

You’re not fine, far from fine actually. The moment you wake up you feel like you want to crawl out of your skin. Your anxiety is through the roof and your overthinking is running a million miles an hour. You tried to busy yourself with normal things, breakfast, showering, getting dressed, but you’re in panic mode, you don’t know how to handle your heat, not a mature adult heat anyway, what the hell are you supposed to do? Give yourself orgasm after orgasm till you pass out? Your ‘research’ may have been a little bit too extensive and the sights you visited are now deleted from your history. You’ve always been on suppressants, after the first ever one you said nope it sucked and your mother listened to you. She said it’s easier anyway with not being fully matured, your doctor suggested going off them once you hit 18 but you got into the academy and thought there was no need for such things so, you’ve never had what the internet called a mature heat and now you’re panicking.

It’s the middle of the night and you’re rushing down the halls like a kid trying not to get caught. You’re making your to Viktor’s class you don’t know why, you think he probably won’t be there. When you make it you peer through the window and see it empty, you curse to yourself before going to his office, you don’t find him there either and internally groan. Your mind clicks then, his lab. You’re sneaking through the halls even though you don’t have to, the academy doesn’t have a curfew or rules about night roaming. You know where the labs are you just don’t know which lab is Viktor’s. You peek into each lab like some secret agent looking for enemies. You hear a light chuckle behind you and freeze before turning around. Professor Jayce Talis.

“Professor Talis!” You say straightening up.

“Care to explain your peeking methods?” He asks head tilted an easy smile on his face.

“I was uh-“ you gulp a bit glad he’s at a safe distance.

“Viktor’s lab is number 39,” he says before leaving and you stare wide-eyed before rushing to it. You knock quickly hands shaking your mind reeling again with anxieties.

“Knocking like that won’t-“ Viktor’s stern voice and expression break off as he sees you, surprise crossing his features. You look around before rushing in almost knocking the poor alpha over but you’re too far gone.

“Is there a reason you’re barging into my lab Miss Y/n?” He says frowning closing the door before he turns and looks at you. You’re panting a little heavily from your rushing around, your hands are shaking and you feel your stomach and throat clench up. His frown deepens before it softens and he steps closer his cane hitting the ground softly.

“Calm down” he says gently hanging his cane in the crook of his elbow.

“I can’t- I just- the doctor said the virus was caused by my suppressant tablets because I was taking two because my hormones were going haywire since I was talking with you. The over-dosage made me super sick but I’m fine now I’m off them only now I have to stay off them to flush it out of my system and I’m going into heat and I’ve never had a mature heat I don’t know what I’m doing and I’m freaking out” you say in a rush of nerves. You watch as he processes your words realisation, a flush of cheeks his mouth opening and closing, his nose flaring, pupils dilating. Your hands are shaking as you fiddle with them, cracking already cracked knuckles, fiddling with the hem of your jumper, your stomach flipping, your throat closing over, your breathing heavier.

“Omega, calm down,” he says voice firm as he steps closer his hand on the back of your neck. You let out a small involuntary noise, you close your eyes and let your hands fall to your side clenching and releasing them. You breathe him in, feel the warmth of his hand on your neck and take a shaky breath before opening your eyes again.

“I’m sorry,” you say softly.

“It’s alright” he answers voice low and gentle.

“I can’t believe I just blurted all that to you” you groan quietly in embarrassment.

“It’s a sign of trust,” he says a small smile playing on his lips.

“I know, but still, you’re a professor not even my professor, you probably don’t wanna know about that” You sigh your cheeks warm.

“I’d rather you speak to me than be in your room driving yourself into a panic attack you can’t escape,” he says a little more firmer.

“You-you’re right” you mumble.

“Let’s sit you down” he says softly nodding to the couch behind you. You sigh and nod stepping back before sitting down on the two-seater sofa. You run your hands down your face still shaking slightly as you watch him move to a small closed office area that has glass panels. You notice a tea and coffee maker which he turns on before walking back out.

“I have a blanket in my drawer if you’d like” he offers and you shake your head before you give in and nod it. He smiles gently heading back into the office and pulling out a blanket from his bottom desk drawer. He walks back out and hands it to you.

“Sometimes I fall asleep in here” he explains and you nod wrapping it around yourself. You sigh catching his scent faintly on it the material. He doesn’t say much before finishing the tea and handing you a cup.

“Thank you” you mutter as he sits down beside you with his own. You take a sip of the tea surprised at the sweet taste of it.

“You’ve… never had a mature heat before?” He asks and you shake your head.

“I uh researched it and well that wasn’t- a good thing” You feel yourself flush embarrassed.

“The internet is hardly a good place for such things people tend to exaggerate” he chuckles softly.

“I’ve been panicking since this morning, since the doctor told me actually, I tried to busy myself you know normal day-to-day things, then preparing and then I just spiralled” you explain softly.

“Did you talk with Dr Marion about it?” He asks and you shake your head.

“I blanked out” you sigh running your hand down your face.

“I know this isn’t appropriate” you huff softly as he says your name softly. You look at him, looking at his honeyed golden eyes.

“I’m honoured you place such a trust in me,” he says carefully.

“Though if I’m being honest the idea of you conversing this with another has me…jealous” he says and your eyes widen a bit.

“So I’m glad you came to me” he finishes voice lowering again.

“I’m glad you found yourself searching me out in such a state” he says softly his hand lifting again his thumb gently caressing your cheek. You feel your body go warm and you quickly look away in embarrassment.

“Why did you come to me?” He asks and you frown in thought heart racing again. Why did you seek him out? You’ve talked to him every day for the last month and a little bit, those moments of talking about his inventions and you talking about art, his question that made all your talking reality, the heat pad he had made special for you, your silly crush on him.

“In the middle of the night,” he adds gently prying.

“I just- I just came here I wasn’t thinking I just needed to find you,” you say gripping the mug in your hand a little tightly.

“I’m not judging you, little one, merely understanding” he says softly his hand on the back of your neck again, gently massaging. You sigh your body relaxing instantly, you remember your mother doing this to you when you were upset or overwhelmed as a child.

“I don’t know” you mumble your emotions haywire, your eyes filling with tears a bit.

“What do you need or want from me?” He asks and your mind reels.

“I want you to…to stay with me” you admit.

“For the rest of the night?” He asks.

“No, my whole, the whole duration of coming off my suppressants and- and my heat… when it hits,” you say your hands shaking again with your admissions. It’s selfish to put an alpha in such a situation, you probably smell of pre-heat already mixed with anxious omega. He’s older than you too and a professor.

“Forget I said that” you mutter.

“I don’t want to” he answers and you brave looking at him. You shiver at the intensity in his honey-golden eyes, the serious look on his face, it’s different from the ones he holds in lectures or normal life, it’s intense underlying with feelings and emotions.

“You want me to stay with you while you go through coming off your suppressants and your heat” he repeats and you nod feeling your cheeks warm.

“It’s bad I know-“

“Shut up” you instantly silence at the order.

“You need to be sure,” he says tone softer.

“I’m sure” you whisper.

“Ok then” he answers.

Next part ->

Taglist

@donnie-is-here

@imithicwolf

@justmoniesworld

@sseleniaa

[eeboor]

here comes a long post i’m fucking sorry lmao

a really interesting point was raised the other day about who the better person is (morally): jayce talis or jayce giopara? [insert obligatory admission about the fact that giopara has an annoying personality].

Like, talis is of course nice and kind and wonderful, perhaps a bit naive, but i don’t think we talk about how far he’s willing to go for what he believes. he weaponizes hextech because mel asks him to, and he doesn’t think further. he blatantly ignores viktor’s wishes about destroying the hexcore, even using it on his corpse to reanimate him. he ignores the council and does what he wants, enacting vigilante justice at the cost of innocent lives (including an actual child). he set up the fucking hexgates in such a way that they pollute the water supply of the undercity. and then, when he’s back from his sabbatical in hell, he goes to viktor. he looks him in the eyes, with the weapon he never wanted him to make, and he shoots him. what the actual fuck this guy is unhinged. he doesn’t THINK. he has no sense of consequences—of course if you keep unsecured, highly unstable and explosive materials in your residential apartment, things might blow up in your face (literally!). of course your patron won’t support you—she is beholden to social opinion. of course weapons can never be unmade and are always used. of course using the scary magical dodecahedron your partner begged you to destroy to bring said partner back from the dead will bring him back Different ™️. come on Jayce.

and then giopara. he has no true family, instead is left to the bloodthirsty clans who want him for what he can give them. he’s antisocial. he’s fucking annoying. he’s a diva 💜. he’s impossible to work with but impossible to get rid of because he’s just that smart. he hates politics and only gets into them to appease his investors so he can do what he actually wants. he doesn’t give a fuck about the common people who look up to him so much. he’s alone, alone, alone. and then he’s not. he meets this other brilliant mind, the only one who can keep up with him. i mean how insane would that be? he must have been at least a little obsessed with viktor because of that. then picture jayce, in all his egotistical glory, drunk on life and the belief that he and viktor are the brightest minds alive, when viktor shows him the diver suits. why does he resist? why does he care? no one in his life is telling him to care. he just does. he sees the devices for what they are, or at least what they could be twisted to be, and calls viktor out on it. he doesn’t speak up for viktor when the stanwick thing happens, it’s true, but doubtless he simply expected viktor to wow and amaze with a different project and be happy with the credit from that. and then viktor leaves. and jayce is a one man act again. like always. like forever and always. jayce acts wrongly, it’s true, when it comes to viktor and destroying his lab and accidentally killing those people, but he saw what he thought was evil and he went for it. no thought of what he could lose. no thought of who he could lose.

idk man there’s something about these two. by no means do i think talis is a bad person, in fact i think he’s a fundamentally good one. but he’s just so fucking naive, and towards the end he’s willing to do ANYTHING for what he believes, no matter the grisly consequences. he’s fucking scary. he’s unhinged. giopara on the other hand has a terrible personality, but is completely unwavering in his beliefs no matter the cost to himself or his relationships. viktor asked him to work together again, and he said “get a psyche eval” and slammed the door.

[akascow]

okay so

i think the viktor and mel hallucinations during jayce's whole Moment in 2x07, their eyes are just completely black. and its VERY faint but u can KIND OF see the outline of their irises if u look REALLY close (irl)

to show u what i mean:

first ones are just normal settings (tho my computer brightness is all the way up), i only messed with the exposure n highlights of the pictures and stuff in the middle ones, and outlined the eyes in the third ones

​which could make sense in terms of his mental state i think ? he maybe feels like he let them down, or betrayed them or couldnt help them in a way ??

they dont feel human to him anymore. or maybe hes created these images so theyre judging him as he can only reminisce on what happened and how he left things

mel’s vision looks maybe like either angry, stubborn, strong willed or annoyed lol... her chin is kinda turned down, with downturned eyebrows, and her lower lids are halfway closed implying that shes like glaring or narrowing her eyes at him, her lips almost look pursed together and i think ? her nostrils are flared but its so hard to tell lmao we only get like three frames of over exposure HAAH take these with a grain of salt lmfao

viktor (even tho i cannot for the life of me read his expression HAHA) to the best of my ability i think kinda looks hurt or confused, maybe innocent for lack of a better term or scared. ((which given how he left jayce it would kinda fit lmao)) BUT his brows are ever so slightly scrunched together, one is higher than the other which usually implies confusion or thinking or admiring. eyes are wide open, mouth is agape a teenie bit, these are usually seen with softer, positive or more admirable expressions, and his chin is tilted upward. im not trying to turn this into a jayvik thing i swear im just comparing to my facial recognition knowledge HAHA

and as he loses himself deeper in the hexcore, the more he starts losing and/or fearing the two ppl he loved most ? ... and worries how he’d get back to them (if at all) and how he would imagine they would react.

the two ppl who not only made and brought him to who he is today, but uplifted and supported and stood by him for ~10 years despite everything

anyway this theory would all pair nicely with the voices that start playing in the background during his lil Montage lmao it kind of culminates into a massive guilty conscious, that then outwardly presents itself in their hallucinations:

“i never asked for this” - jayce to viktor, after their conversation about him breaking their promise about destroying the hexcore, resulting in vik leaving him lmao. also jayce literally turned viktor into this metal husk so hes gotta have that sitting on his shoulders too lmfao

“[heimer] was my mentor, and i betrayed him” - jayce (to mel) abt voting heimer off the council despite heimer ending up being completely right about magic in the first place

“it corrupts” “you must destroy it” “ive seen nations destroyed” - heimer about the hexcore, jayce screams over this as those lines play, anguishing over the fact that he literally did this to himself and hes the reason Piltover is (or will be) no more bc he ignored the warnings

“its your time now jayce” “perhaps its time for the era of magic” - mel to jayce, context is in the quotes HAHA. jayce is screaming no! no! and please! during these lines, i think its just to hammer (pun intended) home on the fact that it all ties back to him for ‘creating’ magic. its on HIM (at least in his own mind) for the destruction of Piltover and all of its people

not to mention the reason hes stuck down there for so long is because his own invention (hextech hammer) disabled him enough to make him unable to climb out for (as far as we know) weeks or even months... more outward projection of self guilt, but like far more literal than symbolic i guess

and as other people mentioned already, it put him in the same position of viktor (down in the depths of zaun having to pull himself up to piltover with the challenges of a disabled leg and illness and no one to support or help him) which allowed him to relate to viktor in a way he never could have before

maybe im just thinking too hard about it idk (im not). or unless this was extremely obvious to the average viewer HAHA. in my defense i spent this whole montage pausing every .6 seconds to take a picture of seggsy and broken and whimpering jayce so i wasnt really paying that much attention to it all AHAHA

anyway do u think this was a hallucination or was it actually the mage standing here with him for a flash lmao

okay sorry for that long ass post i would add a page break sooner but it would interrupt my flow of thoughts that i need u all to experience like i do HA

...

also shameless self promos but u should check out my jayvik butterfly effect and viktors humanity symbolism analysis posts if u liked this one >:)

[sushiisiu]

hello!! this might be a bit random but i just saw the tweets about jayvik mind break on your 18+ twitter and. ueuugh i have not been able to stop thinking about it.... the art of Viktor holding him by the chin and the bared teeth and. oh my god.... it has not left my mind for hours now.

would you please elaborate a bit on your thoughts and. has someone written a fic on it already... if not.. may i write one.... i experience insanity.

Listen hear me out. Jayce is very much in the position where to lose is to give into desire and live in bliss. and he has done so in multiple timelines - his resolve is not solid, because viktor is both the one who sent him on this mission and the one he has to kill. his options are between causing the one thing he's tried to prevent and taking everything he's ever wanted, and he folds 9 times out of 10. jayce has the capacity to choose bliss over what's right.

and viktor is a possessive little shit, whos' humanity at it's most dwindled form is an instinctual need for jayce, secondary only to the desire to evolve everyone which is what the hexcore mutated his altruistic dreams into. we saw how he straddled and choked jayce, and how he has to personally evolve jayce by hand. his affection for jayce can also be warped into obsession (even more than usual) by the it.

pair that with the fact that viktor has telepathic powers and the ability to literally Experience someone's emotions by going into their head and you pretty much the ideal ingredients for a mind break scenario LMAO. whos to say he can't try appealing to jayce by frying his brain with everything he's ever wanted, because it's not even a lie to say that all they want and need, more than anything else, is each other.

jayce will always love viktor, every version of him no matter how far gone. if this is the way that he gets to have him so be it.

[bitchface24-7]

Hey, it’s me again. Did I send in a request last night? Yes. But ur writing is very cool and I rly like it and my thoughts are eating my brain so I’m sending in another! (Please take however long you need to reply to this tho, I would hate to overwhelm u)

N e wayz, I am once again requesting JayVik x fem reader. I was hoping to ask for more comfort maybe? Mostly just smthn with a reader who doesn’t want kids at all ever.

Like, it’s not that I’m not good with them, they super overwhelm me and they’re loud and messy (and pregnancy horrifies me(and I think(?) I’m autistic so also that doesn’t help))

Just, maybe smthn where R tells em or someone else brings it up? They’re upfront abt it but worried abt losing Jayce and Viktor (also if I’m going into too much detail I apologize, I’m very specific abt my feelings towards kids and it’s hard to find anything like this. Most fics that bring up pregnancy are abt the R wanting kids or expecting and that’s just. Not for me)

Also if this makes you uncomfy that’s also cool and chill :))

Hope ur doing good, thank you either way :))

WE ALREADY MAKE THREE - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: you're in your late twenties. Your partners are thirty-one and thirty-two respectively. The dreaded question keeps coming up, “When are you going to have kids?” Never if you had it your way. Time to see if your partners are on the same page as you.

warnings: being childfree by choice, talks of overstimulation, fear of pregnancy and childbirth, talks of not wanting kids due to illness, soft fluffy comfort, Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/m/f

p.s. I too do not want kids, and you damn near listed every reason I have as well (add suspected ADHD/AuDHD). I'll personally add that I'm selfish, I like doing things when I want to do them, in peace. I want to spend my money on me. I want to wake up at noon and drink my coffee in silence. I'm also a graduate of a nursing program so I had to do maternity/child as a course and OMG IT WAS HORRENDOUS. I've never wanted kids, never dreamed of having them; and that won't change. Your feelings are valid; don't let anyone tell you otherwise. I also may or may not be projecting a bit onto this story; hope you don't mind pebble!

You're at that time in life as a woman where people keep asking you in a variety of ways when you're getting pregnant. Or they shoot you a variation of either pity looks or side-eyes when you're childfree; and happily so!

You've never wanted kids. Never had that baby dream where you wake up crying wondering where your kid is. If you did have that dream, you'd be crying in relief knowing you don't have a kid. People have always looked at you funny, your parents especially. “You’ll change your mind when you grow up!” “When you find the right guy, you never know!”

Eventually, when you hit your early twenties, your parents left it alone. Understanding that you don't want kids. Period.

Now… you need to ensure both Viktor and Jayce are on the same page as you. Because this… this topic can either make or break a relationship.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The conversation came up one random day in the lab. The three of you tinkering away when you just blurt out, “What do you think about kids?”

The sounds of tools crashing and swearing fill the lab, you try your best to suppress a giggle, but you fail.

“Where— where is this coming from?” Viktor asks, his voice frazzled as he holds a finger he accidentally smashed in his panic.

You shrug, “People keep asking me when I'm getting knocked up. Other departments, professors, acquaintances. I want to know your opinion on having kids. This topic… is a sensitive one. And I know this can either strengthen our relationship, or it'll crumble to dust. I don't… I don't want to lose you two. I can't imagine my life without you in it.”

Viktor lightly smiles and takes your hand with his non-injured one, and Jayce comes over to scoop you into a big hug.

“I— I've never wanted kids.” Viktor admits, his voice low as he looks at the two of you from beneath his eyelashes, “I’m sick. I'm disabled. I would never want to pass that down to my child; it'd be cruel. Even if we had a cure, I’d be hesitant.”

You squeeze Viktor's hand in reassurance, and the slowly built-up tension in his shoulders eases slightly. Now we just need Jayce's opinion.

The two of you look to Jayce, who just has a contemplative look on his face.

“Kids, babies especially, are a lot of work. Your whole world revolves around them. We wouldn't be able to do things like we are now. Hextech would have to wait. Finding a way to make Viktor feel better would have to wait. And I— I don't want to wait. I want to see Hextech helping everyone, I want to find a way to make Viktor feel less pain. And a kid… a kid would ruin that. Does that make me a bad person?!”

At Jayce's panic, the two of you get up on your tiptoes as best you can and kiss him on the cheek; one on each side. The dopey smile you get in return makes you and Viktor smile.

“Oh thank Janna,” you sigh, “I don't want kids. I've never wanted kids. I like doing things when I want to do them. I want to wake up when I feel like it. I want to drink coffee in peace. If I want to go to the market, I can immediately put my coat on and leave the house. I want to travel the world with you two; I want to make our dreams become a reality. A baby… a baby would ruin all of that. Besides, pregnancy and birth terrify me. That's one of the highest mortality rates a woman faces.”

At that last tidbit, Jayce and Viktor tense up.

No.

Absolutely not.

You're not dying, not anytime soon if they have anything to say about it. They want to be with you until you're all old and wrinkly. Your hair is no longer its rich colour, but a stark white. All three of you will die at the same time, cuddled up in bed holding one another.

You don't see their contemplation and just continue in your explanation, “And they're incredibly overstimulating. I understand logically that they can't speak but sometimes they just cry and make noise unnecessarily. You've taken a bath, your diaper is clean, and you've been fed and burped. We’re having mommy-baby time so I can love on you and you're pitching a fit? Why? It makes me so—”

Your explanation is interrupted by a passionate kiss from Viktor, you think your lips are gonna be bruised later by the amount of force he used. Eventually, he pulls away, and you feel breathless; Jayce quickly replaces Viktor's lips on yours. This kiss is softer, a bit tender as if he understands your lips feel tingly.

Jayce pulls away and as you're stuck in between them; Viktor and Jayce kiss. You appreciate their beauty as you bite your lip and smile. Jayce is the super physically affectionate one, you're in the middle, and Viktor rarely shows PDA. To have Viktor start this means a lot.

Your little kissing session ends a bit too quickly for your taste, but at least you get swamped in a group hug from both your partners.

“So…” Viktor starts, “We’re all in agreement? No kids.”

Both you and Jayce simultaneously respond, “No kids.”

Viktor nods, “Good. So, shall we go back to work? Or are we going to cuddle the whole day?”

“If I had it my way, it'd be the latter.”

“We know, Jayce.”

“So… I guess its back to work?”

“Yes, Jayce.”

“Hmph.”

With a dramatic sigh, Jayce lets the two of you go and you all go back to your workstations. Your heart and steps are a little lighter than when you first came into the lab today.

You work in comfortable silence for about ten minutes before you decide to be a menace, again.

“Why is everyone so invested if I'm getting my shit rocked and getting stuffed full of cum? Like I hate when couples are all like, “We’re trying for a baby! We’re trying every night!” Like… okay? I didn't need to know that. What do you want me to say? “Congratulations. Try harder.” Like?”

More crashes are heard and even more swearing. But this time you cackle in glee. Yeah. You wouldn't change this for the world.

Here it is! I hope people enjoy this tiny fic (especially you pebble!) its nice to know I'm not the only one who doesn't want kids. Whenever I feel lonely in that mindset, I search up “childfree by choice” on tiktok and see so many other women with the same mindset as me; and it makes me feel a little less alone. If you do want kids, all the power to you, but this story isn't for you.

[snoopyhq]

i literally love your writing sm omg,,

i was wondering if you could write viktor helping reader get over a bad breakup?

sorry if that's a little vague-

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ me and my head high, and my tears dry, get on without my my guy

type: viktor x reader (slight jayvik x reader if you want to squint, but this one is viktor centric 🐺)

summary: fic of viktor comforting reader after a bad breakup

word count: 1527

a/n: guys, you know what's crazy? i LITERALLY broke up with my ex recently, wow. this ask and my response is going to be bit personal to be quite honest with you guys 😭 i'm much better off, trust, but damn, it's still awful. i hope you're feeling better and finding all the little joys you deserve, tumblrina

Skip. Skip again. [2 seconds. no. skip]. Skip skip skipskipskip

Your finger mindlessly hit the button. No matter what song it was, your mind simply didn't care for it. Even if it was your carefully curated masterpiece of breakup songs-made just for the occasion-your heart just couldn't muster the energy. You were usually able to lose yourself in song. To ease your emotions into the carefully crafted motifs made through measures and lines.

Not today though.

When you think about Before, all you could feel was, well... nothing. There wasn't an ounce of sadness you could summon. That emptiness welling up inside you felt crushing, like being held beneath water and pushed further and further down at an agonizing pace.

The heaviness took its toll.

You had promised yourself that what happened that fateful day stayed between you two, and the ever faithful pages of your well-loved journal. No one else would be privy to the way your heart found a way to break into a million new fragments.

So far, it's worked.

You kept to your usual routine. You interacted with your friends, you kept up appearances, and made an effort to at least look like your life wasn't slowly losing color day by day. That didn't mean everyone was immune to the walls you were so good at putting up.

Jayce had been the first one to voice his suspicions out loud, to Viktor of course. He had expressed his concern for your wellbeing after you had spent an entire afternoon hardly responding, and only after multiple repeats of your name did you focus on any conversation directed at you. Viktor agreed, having observed that too.

You had unconsciously begun gravitating towards larger groups. You didn't give yourself moments alone with anyone. That would make it harder to pretend you were fully ok.

Jayce began giving you extra attention after he and Viktor reached the same consensus. Giving you more desk space, inviting you to sit with him, and bringing you food without you having asked. You were grateful, and made sure to tell him for every deed. Viktor was more subtle in his care, but his calming presence was there.

Waiting to walk with you out of the lab so you wouldn't be alone. Deliberately changing the music he usually played to songs he knew you liked. Leaving small, unsigned notes of encouragement around for you to find.

Everyone was so sweet, and you couldn't help but feel worse.

You weren't stupid. You figured out that they had figured out that there was something deeply wrong. You just didn't want them to ask. So, with that worry now in mind, you doubled your efforts to pass off as A-OK. You started joking around with Jayce more, and hovering over Viktor's shoulder to pester him while he worked on recording his notes for the day. He would grumble and bat at you, but it was half-hearted at best.

Viktor and Jayce would exchange small glances, subtle nods. They were both glad you were back.

Except you weren't.

You hadn't expected the radio to switch to Your Song. As the familiar chords progressed and the romantic lyrics played, everything you repressed for weeks finally came to the surface, gasping and clawing at your throat for air. You broke down completely, your body wracked with grief.

Your head fell forward on the wheel, and you had to resist the urge to scream until your throat and lungs collapsed.

Why did it, what went wrong, blame him, blame you, blame whoever and whatever, it happened anyways and there was nothing to be done now, it's OVER so why?

The parking lot was empty. That was the only tangible thought you could form, the truth a small comfort.

Except it wasn't.

The universe really thinks it's got jokes, huh?

His amber eyes were fixated on your vulnerable form. His brows furrowed, his mind already racing to figure out everything in front of him. There was no way this was a new, sudden bout of sorrow.

With his shoulders set, he picked up his brisk pace, not stopping until he was beside your car. He rapped on the window with his hands, startling you out of your misery.

At first, all you could do was stare. Curse your luck. Viktor was witnessing your breakdown in Real Time. Your face was streaked with tears and snot and probably some unholy mix of eyeliner and whatever remained of your carefully constructed look for the day. You rolled down the window.

"... 'Sup?" you croaked. It sounded just as pathetic as it felt.

"Can I come in?"

"No."

You unlocked the passenger door.

For a moment, there was only a long, tense silence. Finally, he broke it with a wordless hug. And gods above, did you need that. You knew he wasn't someone who freely gave away his touch, so you made sur to cherish this.

Wiping your eyes, you reached over and changed the music, raising the volume up until it was enough to shake your poor car. You didn't care.

Neither did Viktor. He would wait for you, until you were ready to say what you need.

"It's over," you finally blurted out, barely audible.

Viktor sighed, and lowered the music.

"We broke up," you said again.

Ah.

"I don't know. I think deep down, we always knew it was inevitable. I think I did, at least. Our goals were never going to align. I don't think he saw a future where I could fit, despite all the compromises I've made for him. Why did I let myself do that? For love?"

You laughed at that. It sounded so ridiculous when you voiced it plainly. No more justifying it to yourself for hours on end. Just you and Viktor, in the safety net of darkness your car provided, the treeline the audience to your eyes.

"Don't get me wrong. I did some damn awful things too. I let things drag on for much longer than they should've gone. I held out for nothing and all that did was make it worse. How could I have been so foolish? I used to think I was somehow above the petty strains of heartbreak. I mean! I read the books. I watched the shows. I observed and I listened and I took every damn precaution at every turn, and it still ended like that."

You took in a shuddering breath.

"In all my obsession with being prepared, I forgot to pay attention to the aftermath. I don't know how to heal. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I have tried so, so hard to find myself again after everything. And I'm reasoning it with the fact that my dopamine neurotransmitters have conditioned me to feel the motivation and reap the rewards that love offered, making the sudden loss of a romantic relationship so terribly hard to adjust to. But that's not enough, Viktor. I can't comfort myself with a bullet point list. What is wrong with me?"

Viktor let you talk. He listened, taking it all in and turning it over carefully in his head. When there was a lull in your confessions, he spoke, carefully choosing his words.

"I believe a good start would be to find your support system, and to let us in, even if only a little bit. You have Jayce. You have me. Let us remind you that you aren't alone," he said gently.

"And another thing. You are correct with your statements. This grief and inability to cope with loss can be reasoned with psychology. You can acknowledge that both of you did awful things. You can say and do all you want to remain as impartial as you can, so you don't end up worse for wear, but it is ok to also acknowledge you were hurt."

"Not everyone you love or have loved treated you like they should have. And I believe letting that truth overshadow your neutral acknowledgement will help you heal. Your self worth is in shambles. That is heartbreaking. You are a brilliant aspect to so many lives. Never doubt that, and never diminish that."

He somehow knew all the right things to say. Sweet, brilliant Viktor. You could feel your eyes welling back up with tears.

"Thank you. You're right. Finally telling someone has made me feel lighter. I do feel better. You're a wonderful friend to me Viktor. I can never thank you enough," you whispered, your voice breaking as it trembled.

"No need to thank me," his hand found yours, giving it a grounding squeeze. "When you're ready to talk about it some more, I will be there. If you choose to never think of that terrible time again, then that is ok too. Whatever you choose to do, know you are supported. You are loved, and not just for circumstance."

With that, it was like the clouds could finally begin dissipating. Your music slowly cranked back up. You start the engine again, your drive back to the dorms no longer blurred by tears. For the first time since it happened, you felt like you could finally see again.

[ihopeinevergetsoberr]

the counterpart

chapter 4 — the day after you stole my heart

rating: explicit. the smut chapter is here. i’m done edging ya’ll. or am i?…

word count: 5,5k

pairing: viktor x fem!reader (no use of y/n, as usual)

cw: smoking, some mild cussing. now to the real shit: did you know you can play chess and fuck simultaneously? well now you know. everybody say thank you sober. brief oral, (fem receiving), unprotected sex. poorly proof-read, i’ll deal with that a bit later.

part 5 —

Every chess player had a favourite vice. That is a proverbial axiom, a mandatory requirement to pursuing a chess career: if one doesn’t have a murderous little something to kill him slowly, but surely — then they shall forever be declared an amateur, a poser, a pathetic excuse of a genius. 

Blackburne loved a good drink. He would chug that scotch down like a thirsty man, but it didn’t stop him from becoming the greatest of his time — he mastered the art of combining poison with flawless skill. Tal, on the other hand, held onto his liquor crutch a bit too tight — it didn’t blunt his sharp mind, yet still made people wonder how he‘d managed not to drink himself into a much earlier grave. Generational differences or the infamous Eastern European relationship with alcohol? The biographers weren’t exactly sure, but one fact still remains a tragic reality: once you touch the piece professionally — you’re doomed, and winning a tournament won’t be the only addictive feeling in your life. 

But what were Viktor’s vices? 

He liked to think he had none. He would politely turn down every temptation, and it made him unique — an outstanding exception, a pleasant anomaly. 

Until he met his undoing. His mess of disheveled hair, mingled scents of thrifted threadbare leather, nail-polish and tobacco, mascara fallouts under each tortured with the lack of sleep eye, his  constant, impeccable taunt — light-hearted, slightly erotic, animate. 

A vice of special danger. A vice much worse than some substance corrupting one's lungs or liver. A vice that went straight for his poor heart. 

A woman. 

A provocation.

You. 

Viktor knew he was a goner the second you challenged him, smartassing your way out of the massacre of pawns — a risky trick not every professional is daring to try, crass and intimidating, and therefore effective. Quite the aggressive nuisance you were — you encroached on his pieces, yet even the possibility of swallowing a delicious knight or two wasn’t tempting enough for you to stoop down to chasing after a man. He really had to lure you into losing that carefulness, boring you out to make you throw yourself at him — but only on the board, of course. Viktor would never indulge more unvarnished fantasies. A bewitched one, yet still a gentleman. 

Although he could picture making a solid threat out of you. After all, you were already threatening his sanity. He wore the afterglow of your touch like a phantom trophy, sweetly picturing how other parts of you would feel at the mercy of his tenderness — if only you’d be willing to allow him near you like that: in ways that involved sacrally holding hands and shyly asking for permission to press a goodbye kiss to the crooked corner of your smirking mouth. A threat like that is more than capable of becoming a chess menace: if that’s what you can do to a delicate man’s mind after just one unfinished match and a few equivocal conversations — then you could easily become a champion.

But was he allowed to become something more than just a counterpart shaping you into a better player? Was he allowed to think of you softly when he laid face up in the dark comfort of his room, silence pulsating rhythmically in each ear, as mind drifted to the sound of your laughter — raspy from all the cigarettes you have for lunch? Was he allowed to stare at your hands as they contemplated their next move? To memorize each crack of the thick red coating your nails? To wonder if you’d be opposed to accepting a soft kiss pressed to the cleft of your knuckles after he’d helped you patch up — if only he was brave enough to offer it?

The desperate need to acquaint himself with you more intimately kept suckling at his usually reserved demeanor, melting it off his secretly passion-starved soul. The whole Saturday was spent in aching anticipation, the board with your by-heart recorded moves spread on his desk, a palm slammed across Viktor’s forehead as he replayed your game over and over again. Jayce peeked from behind the sharp arc of his shoulder, clueless as to what could possibly drive his tactful friend into a distress of that extent. 

Viktor groaned, aggressively pressing his fingers into his hot from the restless thinking temple. The pieces were mocking him from their hopeless positions — at this point they could’ve aligned into the word ‘liar’ and it would still pain him less than their current placement. 

There was no draw. The absence of queen was crucial in your situation — especially considering your previous moves. You really couldn’t get out of this. And he knew it the very instance you’d accidentally caged yourself with that impulsive hunger for his bishop. 

And he lied to you. Willingly. Out of pure, selfish eagerness — just to see your brain come up with a solution, and he was oh so close to witnessing it — if only you didn’t gnaw into your nail halfway through. If only he didn’t have a lecture to get to that Friday. 

But charming women demand academic sacrifices. He’ll do better next time. If next time ever comes. How naїve of him. 

“I don’t get it,” Jayce muttered, throwing another puzzled gaze on Viktor’s dim misery, “why would you lie to her about the draw?” 

Viktor sighed, leaning into his chair, wincing at the heavy moanful creak of it.

“I wanted to see her squirm, I suppose,” he confessed, but the answer didn’t seem to please him. “Scratch that, not squirm. She’s a… strange player, let’s put it that way. I just wanted to see her try to get out of that irreparable quandary. Sheer curiosity, if you will.” 

“Strange player as in… hopeless?” Jayce quiered, carefully hovering about the board, forehead wrinkled into a frown as he desperately tried to understand what ‘quandary’ Viktor was referring to.

“No, not at all,” Viktor objected, defensively. Had Jayce smiling knowingly at the rushed remark, light-hearted mockery spilling out of his friendly grin. “Impulsive, more like. Brilliant, but so impulsive. If that wasn’t the case — I would‘ve offered her a draw. At the very least. She could’ve beat me if she noticed my plans on her queen in time.” 

“Tell her you lied to her.” 

“I’m certain she already noticed that much,” Viktor muttered, tired frustration prominent in each heavy sigh as his fingers found a few pieces, twisted them nervously a few times, then poked the pad of his index sharp and angry — as if trying to pierce right through it, to sober up from the heaving regret. 

Charming women demand honesty. Precision. Utter resentment even towards experimental white lies.

Or do they really? Viktor was about to find out. 

On a Sunday morning he woke up coated in sweat, trembling hand an anxious slam against his wet forehead in a frightened search for signs of fever, followed by a relieved exhale when he didn’t find any. The squealing alarm clock kept persistently reminding him of the tortures he was yet to endure before the revanche — two hours of cramping anticipation: one spent on a rushed meal and a cold shower and the other on an even more hastened trip to the bakery. 

He watched the baker wrap the pastries for him with a meticulous frown — that polite old lady wasn’t aware of the importance of her mission, of the fact that those fluffy buchteln were actually a peace offering. Them, and his decision not to bring the timers with him today. Perhaps keeping you well-fed and unlimited in torturing him on the board for however long you pleased could make up for the silly lie he’d regretted so immensely. 

The walk to your dorm was slow, slothful even — he picked the long picturesque path on purpose: both not to suffer from the still merciless sunlight, and to avoid showing up earlier than you requested. It takes a lot to please a woman, and he was willing to commit to it — but a sweet little something and some punctuality would have to suffice for now. 

So at eleven sharp, with a handful of baked goods wrapped in crispy paper and a nervous grip on the handle of his cane, Viktor was already standing at your door. He sighed, checking the number on it for the umpteenth time — and when that glistening little ‘505’ glared down at him from its honorary position, his hand had finally flexed into a fist and knocked. Politely. 

No response. Only an illegible little something — supposedly, an annoyed groan — audible through the door, and Viktor cocks an eyebrow, knocking again; this time, a little bit more insistently. 

“Fuck’s sake, what part of ‘do not disturb’ you didn’t get?” 

Five angry footsteps. No warning to back off. Five more jarring spins of the clanking keys — and the door flies open, practically disarming Viktor of his cane, forcing him to clumsily step away, going limp and even paler. 

“Oh. It’s you.” So soft. Like that mouth — now stretched into a lovely grin — wasn’t just spewing harsh swears. Like those tangled signs of freshly interrupted slumber weren’t scattered across your hair like a sweet morning torture. Like you were completely oblivious to the slight arc your waist caught as you leaned on the doorframe, thin straps of the see-through shirt hanging loosely off each shoulder.

A dare. To slip even lower, to find that fabric crumpled above your navel and — of course — fully absent around the hips, flowing into just as exposed thighs, then calves, and, finally, a definitely barefoot sight. 

He didn’t make it past your underwear. 

Spellbound, he followed the nod of your head — a few hesitant steps inside, gaze clumsy and inquisitive, already roaming across your room. A humble tremble as it slid over the swell of your backside when you rushed to the lock — to keep him in that cozy cage of yours for today. Eyes rolled, running over the messy bed — no doubt, still warm after you basked in it sweet and half-naked. He spotted the board and lingered there, in a nervous attempt to count every fallen into the folded sheets piece. Anything to find a decent enough distraction while you were struggling to crawl into your jeans — the ones you threw onto your desk the night before, hoping to have them on before he shows up. 

“You really do sleep in on Sundays,” he found his voice, choking on a chuckle and watching you scurry around the place, finally not with your ass out. One hop to the left to grab a brush, one slip to the right to practically knock over an ashtray on the bookshelf — a haphazard thing, chaotic and rhythmless. 

“I went to bed late,” you mumbled a confession apologetically. “Took me a while to analyze our game. Which, mind you, wouldn’t have been the case if someone hadn’t lied to me about the draw.” 

“Is that the reason for your, eh… discontentment?” Viktor quiered, chuckling again. Caught you facing his back with a quizzical frown and met your gaze slyly over his shoulder. Pupils dilated and swiftly followed you to the bathroom, beautifully regretful as he realised that you were about to leave him for a few minutes. 

“No,” you laughed, walking out of the reach of his peripheral vision. “A few neighbors tried to disturb my precious beauty sleep earlier. You just happened to come under the fire.” 

He hummed in silent understanding, accepting the invitation to explore your room with every fiber of his insatiable curiosity — fingers ran over the contents of your bookshelf, stroked the spine of ‘Masters of the Chessboard’ languid and delicate, relishing that delicious dejavu of the library incident in dreamy reminiscence. Had him stiffening as he caught a rhythmic shuffle coming from the bathroom, then smirking awkwardly as he realized you were simply brushing your teeth. Legs were aching for rest, yet he didn’t answer their painful calling, simply hovering above your desk with a heavy gasp — taking in every notebook and unsharpened pencil.  

“Would you take that handsome nose out of my writing?” 

Viktor shuddered, clinging off the crime scene with a dismissive shrug, shoulders arched and tense as you raced past them and whisked an ashtray out of its lonesome spot behind the books. Elbows brushed against each other sharp and brief, causing him to turn around with a guilty giggle. Eyes met yours one more time, then fell to your still tortuously uncovered clavicles. You didn’t change out of that loose shirt. A vengeful move or a generous blessing — Viktor was grateful for it nonetheless. And you kindly let him feast upon you in his respectful rapture, as long as he kept looking at you like that — with the excitement of a medieval man fainting at the sight of an exposed ankle. 

You crossed whatever little distance divided you from the bed in a single step, kicked the muddled blanket off it like a stupid obstacle and slithered straight on the mattress, ordering him to sit down with a muffled tap by your side. Viktor cleared his throat and obeyed, albeit not expecting to get into one bed with you that fast; left his cane by your desk, took his shoes off and joined you on the sheets, stretching a braced leg out with a fleeting wince. Smiles were exchanged again, limbs relaxed and sank into the all-besieging softness, fallen chess pieces found and resurrected from their countless dents in the linens. 

“Did you have any trouble finding me?” you finally interrupted the comfortable silence. He shook his head. 

“No. I’m good at following instructions. Didn’t even have to bother your clientele.” 

“And what’s that?” your finger pointed at the package he held protectively and your stomach suddenly whined for whatever was inside of it, instantly recognising the familiar bakery label on the paper. You spotted an oily stain at the bottom of it. Must be something sweet. Pastries. 

“Oh,” he handed the precious wrap to you. “I’ve brought lunch. Well, breakfast, in your case, I suppose.” 

You abandoned the chess board for him to set and anchored greedily into your bucheln, devouring it in a few excitedly large bites. It made him laugh — low and raspy, head rocked back in a precious quiver as eyes closed shut, tempting you to steal a peek at his contorted with chortling face. Flushed. Pretty. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled through a chew, feeling the treat melt on your tongue deliciously — a freshly baked gift all yours to satiate with. And when you were done with it — all too fast, to be frank — your gaze returned to the board, widening at the sight of patiently waiting at your side white pieces. 

“I thought we’re handling some unfinished business first?” 

“No need. We both know the outcome anyway,” he declined discreetly. “I’d rather watch you take your revenge.” 

You froze above the row of your pawns, considering the offered privilege. They were reflecting the light with hostile glints, ready to attack. Belligerent and nothing like those glimmers in Viktor’s eyes — all humble and endlessly curious. His dark pieces tensed up in quiet obedience, fully anticipating the first blood to be drawn. 

So you indulged him, but not at all mercifully. No pastries can quench the hunger for vengeance. And he understood. He complied. 

You greeted him with the taste of his own venom — pawns met in a good old Sicilian once again, resenting each other obliquely from their standard positions. 

1.e4. The predictable, flavourful treason. A choice made not for the sake of efficiency — you opened like that because it was personal. 

Simply couldn’t resist when it felt so right — to have Viktor completely at your disposal, and, most importantly, out of his own will. He huffed and moved his piece with an unimpressed sigh. Must’ve seen that coming. Of course. 

“Eye for an eye, Viktor.” 

He snickered. “Pawn for a pawn, more like.” A fucking smartass. 

Your knight made an appearance next — you wanted to punch your way through a barricade he was about to build for you, hoping to prevent a possible attack. No need to fight the urge to shift closer, foreheads practically touching as both of you hovered above the board, glances so sharp no blade could ever compete with their inveteracy.

The plan was working. He moved another pawn to d6 for protection, playing into your delusion, and your breath grew hotter before his face in a cheeky laugh. Matched his energy with the same careful move — but not for the sake of creating a shield. It was a calculated preparation for a strike. And as you waited for him to bend to your will, he proved you wrong and took your pawn in two swift motions — one on the board, the other in a small jerk forward, close enough to steal that incredulous gasp of yours into his mouth, if only he was persistent enough. 

Oh the fucking audacity! You pulled away from him to a distance more appropriate for a game of chess: both to bite back and to compensate for the distracting nature of your attire. Amber eyes twitched and descended to the crevice of your cleavage, then sprinted back to the board. Either still not brave enough, or simply reluctant to stare at the cost of a loss. 

But you noticed. Noticed, and took it to your advantage, cruelly destroying the pawn he tricked you with while he was distraught. Weaponized his obvious weakness to whatever was so precious about your chest and bare shoulders, watching him put his knight into action with a now trembling hand. All is fair in love and war. 

The torture was impeccable. It lasted long — diabolically so, extending every time he stepped back to save his pale ass from your aggressive approach. Fingers fiddled with the button of his collar when you almost caged him into a stalemate. Took you a dozen moves, one lost knight and around twenty minutes to do so.

Only twenty minutes. Filled with tension thicker than Bobby Fisher’s book, but that’s besides the point. 

And yet he managed to get out of it — his queen lurched a few squares forward and dissected you from the check, ruining the perfect sight; made you swear angrily in a bitter whisper. Close, but no cigar. And you needed one. Desperately. 

“Do you mind if I smoke?” you queried, watching him frown with a dismissive shrug. 

“It’s your room.” 

“That’s not what I asked.” 

Viktor sighed. Fingers flew to his shirt again, popping open one more button. Had your gaze nailed to the bulge of his voice box, to the slight tilt of his head when he smiled, tucking a single chestnut strand out of his narrowed eyes. A tease. A fidgety vision. 

“If you please.” 

Good. 

You reached for the thrown somewhere nearby ashtray — as if the version of you from twenty minutes before knew that dealing with this man would be impossible without nicotine. Slipped into your pocket and handed him a pack, offering to share the poison together. He declined with a polite head shake and watched you put the cigarette slowly into your mouth — supposedly jealous of the stupid thing. Your pieces waited all around the place, aching to repeat the maneuver as soon as you were done harassing that poor, rusty lighter. 

He ousted you of some promising options. You let the smoke fill your lungs, overlooking whatever little possibilities he left you to choose from — you could sacrifice one more pawn in exchange for his bishop later: but that won’t work if he notices it in time. Or you could refrain from attacking him just now in order to move closer to that delicious piece you were eyeing — both would result in a little compromise nonetheless. 

You picked the latter. Moved the rook to d6 and exhaled with a wet little pop, catching him drawn to the slowly flowing out of your mouth smoke. Like he cared more about the shape of your lips than a grave you dug for him on the board. If only he slipped up to actually fall in it. 

“You look distracted,” you whispered, going in for another drag. It burned your throat nice and thorough, adding to the kick you were getting out of aiming for his defense. 

“I am distracted,” he confirmed with a hard swallow. “You’re not playing fair.” 

“How so?” 

“There was no need to make this so, eh… intimate.”

“Intimate?” 

“Well, excuse me for the lack of a better vocabulary,” he snapped and abruptly captured your pawn, then threw it off the board with a hopeless huff. “You never claimed to be condescending and I’m aware of that, but please don’t toy with me. That’s beyond cruel.” 

You stirred, letting the cigarette smolder into a thin bridge of ashes. Smiling to the accusation didn’t feel right anymore — his voice, tired of devastation, reduced you to thoughtfulness for a split second. Made you crave to address it softly. 

“Are you questioning my methods?” 

“No,” Viktor sighed. “I’m questioning my ability to resist them.” 

Amber eyes flickered and slid up the curve of your shoulder, hands failed to abide by the stupid restraint and reached for you: one twined around your wrist and squeezed, tight and desperate, the other itched to cup your knee — but still lacked the boldness. Thankfully, you had just enough to flood the whole room. 

“Then don’t resist,” you pleaded, feeling his breath collide with the bitter heat of yours. 

And his hesitation crumbled, spilling clumsily against your bottom lip. Faces crushed together above the board, mouths opened and molded together hastily — a strangling union, full of whimpers and urgent tongue flicks. Made your hand go limp in his possessive clutch, and he used that opportunity to guide it into the ashtray, putting out the cigarette your tongue still tasted of. 

So needy. Like he wanted you to crawl into his throat and slice it tenderly from the inside — if only doing so could guarantee that your kiss will be his undoing. In every single appropriate and inappropriate way. 

Lips felt bruised, fingers used their newfound freedom to dig into his hair and tug him away from you softly, lungs burned from breathing him in sharply but oh so heavenly, and you were back at it again within seconds, though with starvation not nearly as impressive as his. Spine arched for him, tingling sweetly when he nudged you slightly to the left  — away from the ashtray, the board and all the moves you were yet to make. Feral, but so careful — he was so afraid of destroying your work, yet so keen on ruining you. Preferably for any other man. 

Viktor touched like a keeper, like someone others wouldn’t even dare to compete with. Had you shivering in a little convulsion when two undoubtedly talented fingers clung to your lower back and pressed, gliding swiftly into that delicious little dip. Made you wish he could grab more — like a trembling thigh or an ass cheek. You should’ve stayed in your underwear. 

But he yielded so preciously. Didn’t let you near that pulsing spot on his neck when you tried to switch to it from his mouth: lips stayed on lips, and he intended to keep it that way. Hands locked behind your back and forced an attack, pulling you close enough to melt gently into his lap, and you left that vampiric attempt for later, settling for straddling him — tight and selfish. Not without a tiny evil itch to tease him out of that sudden bravery, to remind him that it’s you who plays White today. But judging from every pant Viktor made beneath you, he was pretty much aware of that. 

You heard him gasp when tongues finally unraveled reluctantly, sharp chin still glistened with your spit, breath was a mess subtly tickling your neck. It drew a laugh out of him — that lovely sound of contentment nuzzling your collarbones with a soft shake, grateful for whatever pieces of you he was allowed to feel. Palms kept sweating nervously against the skin he found under your rolled up shirt. 

“Greedy much?” you gave into the soft, tempting mockery. Leaned into his craving mouth and threw your head back, seizing every lick, nip and suck it had to offer. Let him move his palms elsewhere — wherever he pleased, really — and they fell into a cautious squeeze of both breasts, leaving sweet, eager scorches. Scooped your heart race up into a grip and pinched teasingly at one nipple, rolled it hard and stole a choked up moan. Yes. He was greedy. Very much so. 

But the jeans were still there, tangling into the embrace and making it impossibly hard to find where he was hard for you. And you needed to feel him throb, raw and impatient as he was against your own torturous ache. As he would’ve been, to be precise — if not for the thick denim separating you cruelly from this obscenity. 

He wasn’t thrilled to part with you even for a moment, eyes the prettiest begging stunt when you slid out of his lap — and, simultaneously, out of bed, pupils widened when he realized just what kind of honor you were about to do him. Fingers stayed on your hips and held them in place as you rose above him, digging into each shoulder for whatever leverage those trembling things could provide. Letting him help you out of that attire nice and slow — for the sake of savoring the sight Viktor didn’t deem himself worthy of earlier. Catching the bat of his breath when the cloth thumped to the floor, wrapping around your feet creased and forgotten. You stepped out of it in mad haste, felt him admire the softness of thighs with a languid touch as gaze flew back to yours in a shy request for permission. 

And when you nodded, suddenly flushed from having this boy like this — messy-haired, hot and soft spoken, he stilled you securely between his widely parted legs and kissed you softly on the belly — just above that aroused little spot where you needed him most. Had you breaking in half above him, keening raggedly as he hooked his thumb into your pitifully soaked underwear and pulled it tenderly to the side, dark eyes glistening about just as much as the slick of your exposed folds. 

A resolute man —  he knew exactly what he wanted and went for it without hesitation. His tongue darted out to taste you in one long, relishing swipe — from slit to clit, deliciously sour as you were, moaning at his ministration. And that skilfull torture lasted a few pleasantly long minutes — until you were turned into an almost cumming disarray of weak knees and spasming muscles. 

But, strangely enough, you wanted to be even with him. One knee bent and pushed lightly into his crotch, felt him tense up inside the tight cage of pants. He handed you the lead and fell boneless onto the sheets, head a muffled smack against the roughness of your headboard. Had you crawling back to him on all shaky fourth, shirt and ruined undergarments thrown barbarously to the nearest nightstand. 

Impeccable in your naked splendor, you sat atop him again, chest heavy with all the things his spread out form did to your fragile heart. And it failed to resist the flaming urge to kiss him, smiling at the way he absorbed all of you so quickly — tongue caustic with your flavour, chestnut hair smelled of bitter cigarettes. Like he was already yours, ready to be kept in this muggy room for as long as you wished to have him. 

You pulled away to cup him gently through the tortuous obstacle of clothes, palming whatever you could feel through that redundantly thick layer. And, judging from the Czech curse he hissed through his clenched teeth, you managed to feel just enough — made him slam a palm against that debauched little whimper, appalled to his own loss of eloquence. Bit his lip and nodded, weak and wobbly, at that curved throb. 

“Please.” 

And you allowed him that mercy. More so to soothe that painful need of him inside you than to ease his sensitive predicament — but it didn’t matter. Not when you pulled his pants down, brusque and impatient, let them roll clumsily around his lean thighs. Didn’t waste much time on his underwear either — lust came before manners, made you gasp when fingers wrapped around just what you were about to take. Body foretasted a tight, girthy fit. 

It felt heavy in your hand, smacked against his stomach with a lewd sound when you failed to hold it through a shudder. Caught him staring not so placidly when hips arched, making you glide along the inches of him in a smooth little agony. Gaze darkened when you hovered, working him through the warm clench of entrance. He didn’t dare to rush you, to pierce through you to get that over with. Just took you carefully by the wrists and leveled the back of one palm with his swollen lips, softly kissing each knuckle while you stretched around him slow and pliable. Had you swearing when he budged and tip finally slid deep inside with a delicious tingle. 

“Is being defeated the price I must pay for this?” he spoke through a raspy laugh, eyes still nailed to the debauched twine of your bodies. “I’ll gladly start resigning after my very first move if that’s the case.” 

“But I didn’t win,” you breathed out, freeing one hand out of his lovely grasp. “We didn’t get to finish.” 

He stiffened. Fingers unraveled from yours completely, returning to his side. 

“Would you like to finish?” 

You gulped, twitching around him with a strangled whimper. 

“Yes.” 

And he took it for a command. Turned slowly to the board and reached for it not exactly effortlessly, cautious not to knock any pieces over. Brows formed a concentrated frown as he rotated it, attentive and skittish, returning the army of attacking white into your possession. Placed it all softly onto his stomach and held a breath, trying oh so diligently not to ruin a single thing with the slight rise of his inhale. Made you laugh as your thighs parted wider to make more place for the duel, felt him quiver inside you out of sheer, depraved excitement. 

He won’t last long. Not a chance. 

So you decided to rid him of his misery. First rid, then ride, to be precise — but was it really a misery when you were wrapped around him so viciously tight, keeping him so warm through the rough slap of defeat? If anything, a single loss is a steal for that twisted bliss. 

And you could already see the sweet victory. Rook took the bishop you were drooling over the whole time, gave you the cheeky opportunity to switch to a wheezy whisper. 

“Check.” Good god. 

Caught you nearly cumming on his cock — who needs friction when seductive mockery is an option?

His move smelled of retreat — not that he had any other routes. King ran away to h7, hiding behind the pawn, but you were biting right at its shiny crown, destroying his precious shelter with that same acute rook. 

“Check.” Again. Had him twitching into that luscious spot in one sudden hitch, mouth failed to suppress the most pitifully delicious moan. 

So when he attempted to escape for the third time — though rather reluctantly, to be frank — your queen stood right there before him, emitting pure humiliation. And, sure, he could still sweep it off its precious square by a simple f8 move — but it wouldn’t save him from the sly rook, sneakily waiting to put him into a numerous deadlock. A sweet, inescapable doom, leaking all over him. So he picked that poison and surrendered. In an old-fashioned way. Just like you imagined. Left the honors for you to do. 

“Checkmate,” you uttered, and couldn’t take it anymore — foreheads bumped together fervent and sweaty, pieces poked the skin of your stomach, crushing beneath it as you leaned to kiss him rough and desperate. Hips finally made their first buck to help you both pick up where you left off. 

But Viktor yearned to be helpful too. Pieces fell all over the place for you to find them later when long fingers dug into your hips, forcing both you and the board off of him. So pent up, so lovingly untamed — he threw you into the pile of chess, sheets and ashes, and thrusted deeper, had you seeing stars on the blank space of your ceiling. Quarrel died beneath him with whatever little shame you still weren’t disposed of, and your legs wrapped around his waist into a tight lock, pulling him so flush against you that breasts started to hurt from just how hard they were squashed under the pressure of his chest. 

—

That Sunday you received a noise complaint from your neighbors. Lost three pawns, one rook and two bishops somewhere in your sheets. Viktor walked out of your room with a giant scratch across the crook of his sore shoulder and a few buttons of his shirt missing. 

But looking back at it, when you collapsed, breathy and fucked out, onto the destroyed amenity of your bed — the thoughts of your newfound counterpart haunted you until eyes squeezed shut, drifting to slumber with a content smirk.

And it was totally worth it.

tags: @zaunitearchives @blissfulip @thehistoriangirl @queen-of-elves @vyshnevska

[bazoonga-bazinga]

watching tua s4 knowing fully how its going to disappoint me rn and something that keeps bothering me is just how awful it is that they dont show what happens during the 6 year time skip.

like in season 2 we get to see an abridged version of how everyone got to where they are. this allowed for me as viewer to at least undertsand the reasoning behind the siblings' actions and conflicts. but in season 4 there is just none of that.

instead we only get to see the after of the timeskip. Whatever bits we do hear abt the time in between are extremly limited because they are things that are told to us from biased/flawed/one-sided perspectives. I as a viewer do not get a clear idea of why any of the 8 charcters of the main cast change the way they do becuase i am never shown how this change ocurred. its more i am told things and have to accept because of the 6 year gap.

lila and diego's strained marriage is actually i think the only they showed without telling to an extent. but it still would have also been nice to see thier struggles transitioning to suburbia and would also aid me to better understand why neither of them tried to find an adequate balance in the 6 years. also like why is diego working as a delivery driver? in my mind it makes more sense for him to be a mediocre private investgator or something like that? idk just some more context behind the tension and thier decsions (especially lila dear god dont even get me started) would have been wonderful

viktor's journey to Canada and his distancing from the others sounded interesting and i would have loved to see that on screen. he clearly is unable to form long lasting intamate relationships and showing his life in the time gap would have been a great way to show his journey of accepting the loss of sissy.

allison was definitely hit hard by the lack of explanation. i understand the scheduling issues with raymond's actor but it truly was a heavy blow to season 3 allison actions when they just said he left with no other explanation. most of her conflicts in season 3 were motivated by the loss of claire and raymond and you are telling me she just lost 50% of that a year afterwards? and like this doesnt get mentioned until episode 3??

i actually enjoyed klaus's shift to a risk averse person and it did make sense to me after losing his immortality to become more aware of not only his but his loved ones mortality. the biggest glaring issue is the one everyone has talked about: the lack of dave. i think if they had shown klaus trying to find info on dave and/or even visiting his grave in the timeskip it would been fine with me that he wouldn't mention dave that much. but the dog tags being on screen and him not saying anything is actually inasne??? also it sounds like there was definitely more to his sobriety than what they have told sad that we didnt get to see that storyline....

everyone has said thier piece on how luther just mentioning sloane and then no other explanation is actually awful. like a simple flashback fo luther searching and finding sloane living a different life would have been better than them giving us nothing💀

ben i actually have nothing to say...it would have been silly to see the crypto scam ig. also an explanation of why they even showed the other ben the post credit of the s3 finale i think is warranted. like even a mention of yeah there is probably another ben who belongs to this universe walking around would have been okay ig

five oh where to even begin.... first of all how tf does a person who isnt even in thier 20s even get a gig at the cia. i know they said some bullahit abt five being a part of a relative young group/recruit (cant remember the exact wording) but like a person who is younger than 19 getting a job at the cia is a bit much. also i actually refuse to belive that five wouldn't have figured out his boss was part of the keepers there is just no way. after the handler and reggie i refuse to belive that five would lose his suspicion towards authority figures. i think the only authority figure he has ever listened to was the founder version of himself and even that took time. like if you want me to believe that bs then show me how five turned his brain into mush in the 6 year time skip. either that or show how me his loneliness in those six year because from what i have right now five worked at the cia and that is it nothing else. like from what i have been told by the show nothing else happended to him besides working. which if thier implication is that he was only working and drifted apart from his siblings that message was not clear enough to me as viewer and would have been alot clearer if i was shown such as thing.

[arcane-ish]

Plotbunnies aka "making the most of Viktors new ability"

Warwick/Viktor, Viktor/Silco: So my first plot bunny just Vander's point of view on the whole Viktor mindprobing him, being charmed by Viktor's goodness and wrestling with his own shame over his past or his urges.

Viktor/Silco, Vander/Silco: Second was Viktor digging deeper into Vander's mind and finding the darker more uncensored parts. Viktor "meeting" Silco in Vander's mind. Maybe Viktor flirting with young!Silco in the last Drop within Vander's mind palace. (maybe with a dash of Viktor wondering what Vander wants to tell him about Silco, if mind!Silco is so flirty).

Viktor/Silco, Viktor/Jinx: Spinning off from that: okay what other ways could Viktor have to encounter Silco? Maybe after seeing Silco in Vander's mind he wants another view and sees a different view on Silco in Jinx's mind?

Viktor/Jinx, Sisters: But then I decided Viktor wouldn't heal Jinx against her will. So next idea: Viktor offers to heal Jinx because he senses much pain but also much power in her. Jinx imo would say no. But still, lots of interesting ideas about it. Like would Vi get tempted to try and convince Jinx? Maybe the sisters debating whether they should let Viktor try to cure Isha's muteness?

Viktor/Jinx: Spinning off from that, story about Viktor wondering why The Arcane keeps urging him to try and heal Jinx. (imo Jinx has a special relationship with Hextech AND she's all shimmered up, so an "I want to suck everything in" Hexcore entity thingie would have double the reason to consume her.

Viktor/Silco + Singed: Another interesting "Viktor sees many different perpectives on Silco" point of view (on top of Vander and Jinx) would be Singed. But again, this would fall into Viktor wouldn't heal people against their will and Singed wouldn't say yes. But still, might be another interesting "temptation" type scene if Viktor would offer Singed to heal him over the pain of losing his daughter and the scars on his face. (I think Singed wouldn't say yes because I think in a weird way Singed is actually somewhat happy with his life and maybe like Silco about the The Betrayal thinks his daughter being his driving force is actually a good thing. That said, he might ask Viktor to heal Orianna instead and watch closely what that does).

Viktor/Silco + Singed. Wait, maybe Singed wants Viktor to heal Orianna, but he wants Viktor to guinea pig try it out on Silco instead?

spooky!Viktor + pairing of your choice: a more fucked up, unfeeling machine herald Viktor doesn't have this rule about not healing people against their wll anymore. So he just heals and mind invades people left and right, whether as part of a battle to take them over or almost accidentally by brushing against them. In that process he then sees the people and memories these people love the most (in my head this comes up mostly for the people who are resisting but I could do with Viktor just knowing all the loves and wants of everyone he has healed), but because he's unfeeling now, they don't mean anything to him, he's just neutrally cataloguing them. This could be done for any pairing of your choice, CaitVi (ie Viktor being at the most surprised about how much pain Cait is in about Vi), MelJay, JayVik (ie Viktor seeing how Jayce saw him and the moment Jayce fell in love with him), etc etc.

Porny VanderxSilcoxViktor (throw in Felicia if you feel like it): Viktor wandering through Vander's mind runs into a memory of Vander and Silco having sex (if you don't like, do Vander and Felicia or Vander/Silco/Felicia threesome) and because he's in Vander's mind he expreriences it from Vander's point of view and you can bring in that whole bit about how it is unfamiliar, that Viktor has never been in a certain position because of his leg. [the explanation here would be that with his normal healings, Viktor doesn't typically have to probe that deep, so he doesn't usually run into this problem]

Ekko&Viktor or maybe Timebomb: I think Ekko would be like Jinx and would never want Viktor to heal him no matter how unhappy he is. I think he'd be distrustful like Jinx (if there is a temptation then maybe one to ask Viktor whether he can heal the tree). So maybe a version where Ekko never went on his trip to Piltover and he is super weirded out by this new camp and he either teams up with Jinx to spy on it or he seeks it out to talk to Viktor and try to figure out whether Viktor is a good guy or a bad guy.