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our-hextech-dream · 7 months ago

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i haven't seen anyone fully articulate what i personally felt disappointed by wrt viktor's s2 persona and ending so i guess i have to do it myself even tho i'm bad at talking!! can someone who is better at this just read my mind and say it fancier and more coherently?

agency, the loss of

i have seen people already mention the way disability came into play at the end and what a wild choice it was for jayce - born able-bodied and healthy - to be the one to tell viktor - trapped in a body that was actively killing him - that actually your disability is a part of you and made you who you are and you owe everything to it. ... huh? jayce (by which i mean the writers), do you think without his disability, viktor wouldn't have still been a genius? yes, viktor is disabled - that's not even remotely what makes him a compelling character and power player. it is his mind not his body that makes him who he is. the fact that he had to waste almost his whole life fighting against that body to achieve anything is the entire crux of his frustration - imagine what he could have dedicated his mind to if he weren't constantly struggling to find a way just to survive another year, another month, another week, one more day. have you thought about it? because he has. so yeah that whole conversation, trash. bruno mars just the way you are ass one direction that's what makes you beautiful ass argument. viktor was not going crazy over cosmetic surgery, he was trying not to die.

but it strikes me as just one more expression of an overarching theme for s2 viktor - that of the complete and total loss of his agency. (more on a meta level than in the show itself, but also in the show!) i said after act 1 that viktor had died in that explosion and jayce was going to be chasing that corpse until the end, and i was correct. viktor bounced from one mindset to another, never seeming to have any consistent ideology of his own that couldn't be changed as soon as the plot demanded it. at any given point he was just kinda... wandering around, doing some random shit with the powers that worked through him. gone was the viktor who used his own hands and mind to influence the world directly, to bend it to his will. i always always felt this and i stand by it - taking viktor's abilities as an inventor and scientist away and turning him into some arcane mage jesus figure was a mistake and a disservice to his character. arcane said no this boy wasn't smart or determined, his ability to build and invent and seek and learn don't matter and never mattered, he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and as soon as the arcane got its goop on him he just became the most specialest magic pixie dream boy to ever live and his own goals, dreams, ideals, morals, talents, skills, and hard work ceased to matter in any meaningful way. he never had to work to master magic to be able to use it to further his goals, because he immediately stopped having goals.

viktor became a non-character. he became whatever ideological and technological threat level the show needed to challenge to heroes and never more. he ceased to have any control or understanding over what was happening to him, rather he just gave up and decided to use his magic indiscriminately for whoever made the most convincing argument, a choice that would have been completely antithetical to his character up to that point if he'd still been alive. 'fuck zaunites, sure i'll turn them into robots so a foreign power can use them to attack and take over piltover and zaun, who cares. it's not like these are the people i've spent 30 years of my life trying to protect and save.' <- something viktor would never ever ever have agreed to! ever! no matter what! they have played us for absolute fools.

ambiguity, the loss of

the thing i wanted the most and was expecting because of the way viktor's original lore was set up was that the series would end with viktor and jayce unreconciled and with mutually exclusive worldviews, both fully believing they were right and the other was misguided but not evil or irredeemable, setting them up for future conflict. this felt like what was being set up when arcane made it a plot point that jayce was being convinced to turn hextech into weapons while viktor started getting unethical and unhinged with the experimentation. they both had good reasons to do what they did - and i'm absolutely not going to insult jayce's intelligence by claiming he was just manipulated into it by anyone, give me a fucking break - but the point was that both of them were doing something the other thought was misguided and dangerous. and they also felt that if they could just make the other person see their completely logical and rational pov, they could fix the divide between them and make up and be best science buddies again.

but then at the end arcane completely gave up on viktor having any belief in his own ideals. it just turned into 'aw actually he was just lonely all along and none of that science stuff or difference in morals or worldviews mattered bc he's got a buddy now and he's completely unequivocally on jayce's side. :)'

it was like. insanely selfish. as in, self-centered, concerned *only* with the self. the viktor i liked, and the one i wanted to flourish and hoped arcane would canonize, was someone who was entirely dedicated to zaun, to righting the wrongs of piltover and helping the people in the way he thought best - no matter what jayce or piltover thought about it. an ambiguous villain, just like all the other really well-written ones in arcane.

accountability, the loss of

viktor killed people. not sky, who was an accident despite his fixation on her; i'm talking at least a hundred or more zaunites during his stint as the machine herald. he ripped their minds out and made them play house with him, then turned them into weapons of war for ambessa's siege, and all of those people - primarily sick, desperate zaunites - died. this was always the entire crux of the conflict between (league) viktor and jayce giopara. viktor was willing to destroy people and use their bodies for his own gain unapologetically because he thought what he was doing was a blessing and the people were better off under his control because they would never feel fear or anger again. agree, disagree, depends on your view of free will and human nature, but the fact is that everyone who came to viktor hoping for a chance to be healed so they could pursue their own dreams and lives had those dreams and lives ripped away from them and they never got justice or even a single scrap of acknowledgement from the narrative.

in arcane, the horror of viktor's actions just... fade away into the background. viktor and jayce waltz off into magicspace together, leaving viktor's dead, ruined victims for piltover and zaun to deal with. he doesn't return their minds or bodies, he doesn't even seem to remember or care about what he had just been doing to other sentient living human beings. he's not sorry, he doesn't feel regret, he got what he wanted (a friend) and fuck everybody else.

because the narrative just shrugs and handwaves and says no no forget all that it doesn't matter it was just the hexcore or whatever, viktor becomes a flat, uninteresting character. he loses the depth that villains like ambessa and silco had, villains who had their victims validated by the story, who faced challenges in their arcs specifically because of the people they had hurt despite thinking they were doing the right or noble or most important thing. and not just the villains! even the heroes had to wrestle with the people they stepped on on the way to their lofty goals. but not viktor. he just floats away scot free, completely blameless, having no affect on the world and the world having no affect on him.

on arcane's status as the new canon lore and the Implications™

reminder that arcane is somehow supposed to tie into the world of runeterra at large, but now viktor and jayce both have been seemingly entirely removed from it. if it only mattered that they knew the people we'd already seen them interact with, okay, i guess. but that isn't the case. they both have a ton of connections to other champions - from regions other than p&z even - that haven't been introduced and don't have any plausible explanation for how they could have met in the past, which means they should have been set up to meet somehow in the future. implying that jinx escaped and has gone traveling the world is the perfect way to incorporate her in-game relationships with people like lux - she could have met her while traveling! but jayce and viktor don't get that plausible continuation of their story and development of further relationships - they just disappear out of existence. (ambessa also has this problem because they killed her, but unlike jayce and viktor she does have a huge amount of unexplored backstory where she could have spoken to (for example) swain and hwei and shyvanna at some point.)

note 1 - jayce and viktor are so old that they don't have any voice lines in game when meeting other champions. but other champions who are either newer or who have had voiceover updates do talk to them, which is how (aside from the old lore) you can infer that they do have relationships with other champions including ones who weren't in arcane.

note 2 - maybe riot actually doesn't care and none of the champions are really supposed to know each other or be involved in each others' lives canonically, they just have random quippy voice lines that imply that. which would fucking suck. having the lore of the game have no impact on the game itself and vice versa would objectively suck. if the characters talk to each other on the rift and say something interesting, i want that to have meaning. i want to be able to extrapolate the state of the world and the relationships between the characters from the things they verbally say with their mouths. i'm not arguing about this. the voicelines should be seen as the most high irrefutable canon that there is for the game because it is the ONLY source of lore in the game itself.

anyways there's my bible i guess. i miss evil laser robot viktor i want him to perform unethical brain surgery on me (fixing my adhd but also turning me into his personal puppet attack dog) and then give a weapon to a child so they can kill their bullies.

#league #arcane #viktor #jayce talis #hextext #also i'm not like devastated over it. i've seen worse endings and way worse character assassination.#this is just my onion ya know.

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hwalovs · 6 months ago

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The Apprentice 1/?

Chapter One; Deer, Fox, or Rabbit?

Pairing; Viktor x Vampire!Reader Warnings; none too extreme? Blood drinking (animal), mainly just yappers yapping about things. it’s a little twilight coded, so what?? sue me! Word Count; 7.8k

Summary; Finding an Apprentice should be easy. You have a simple task, one that cannot be handled lightly. Yet, the mind is a unique thing, and each one you've come across don't seem to meet your specific qualifications. Until your dear friend and confidant, Heimerdinger, brings forth a man with a bright ambition and a determination that could rival anyone.

A/n; oh god,, another series?? this one ahs been cooking for the last few days, and after finishing arcane and igniting my LOVE for Viktor, i decided it was time to try my hand at writing him :>> my darling friend @disturbyn beta read this so I’m no longer liable for financial instability!

THIS IS NOT EDITED!

DO NOT COPY, REPOST ON OTHER SITES, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK WITHOUT PERMISSION!

“My dear friend,” a voice chimes, and you smile. Dropping to a knee, you open your arms to greet him with a brief hug. He was warm, fur soft as it touched your cheek. He pulls away, and with bright eyes he says your name. He was dressed in his usual councilman attire, blue fabric complimented with gold.

“Councilor Heimerdinger, what a pleasant sight to see.”

He waves you off, stepping away to give you a glare “drop the formalities, would you?”

Shrugging, you rise to your full height, tipping your head to your driver who opened your door. The streets of Piltover were bustling with life, people walking in and out of the building. The sun was shining brightly, no cloud in the sky, the buildings of Piltover glimmering and dazzling. On the rare occasions that you visit, the city never fails to amaze you with its beauty. More innovations included, more steps into the future.

Even with your jacket on, it was cold outside. The air was biting at your cheeks as you walked the stairs, body shivering as the wind wrapped your body. Heimerdinger couldn’t tell the difference, his thick fur protecting his small body from the elements.

Unless it was raining, then you would see him running for any kind of shelter.

“I find it customary, dear friend,” you jest, beginning to climb the steps of the building. It was large, almost doubling the size of the one from the last Inventors Competition you attended. It was hosted in Piltover this year, situated right between the heart of the city, and the bridge that leads to Zaun. The building was a museum, repurposed for the day. Three sets of double doors were propped open, allowing people to freely go in and out. Marble steps lead the way up, the chains on your boots clinking with each step you take.

“Yet, you’ve arrived late,” Heimerdinger says, “not very customary of you, my dear.”

“Eh,” you shrug, “I doubt my presence was missed.”

He shakes his head, “most have already asked for an audience with you. You’re going to come across many disappointed faces, I fear.”

“Aw, poor babies,” you kiss your teeth, stopping in the doorway to look around the room. Multitudes of tables were set up to hold different inventions. Most of the crowd had already moved on, the aisles free to roam comfortably.

Although you’d have rather stayed home, there was a nagging that stayed consistent in your mind. It whispered to you during the night, while you tried to work, while you roamed the empty halls of your estate.

Oh, sweet death. It would sing, a symphony without the strings.

Heimerdinger's letters on the subject once brought you annoyance, but this year, you decided to indulge him. Months of writing, planning your short visit, tell you what to expect from some of his students. You tried to keep an open mind, but as you survey the room from your standing point, you find mirrors of what you’ve seen before.

He chuckles, and you nod to the enforcers that stand beside the doors. They barely glance your way, all zoned in your own worlds as they try to stay awake.

“Tell me,” you muse, “anything promising?”

“That all depends on what you’re looking for,” he smiles, “the entries this year are very promising, I should add.”

Finally making your way into the building, you start down one of the rows, briefly reading off the small cards that line the table. It was intriguing, seeing what the human mind can create. Each one was different, promising innovation and change for the ones who needed it the most. Some were simple, a new irrigation method, a new tool to help with surgery. Others were more intricate, a way to heal broken bones faster, a way to grow taller or thinner in a matter of days.

Heimerdinger continued to talk at your side, keeping with your slow pace. His voice was bright and joyous, a singing tone that contrasted to yours. He spoke enough for the both of you, and as time passed you’d grown accustomed to his hyperactive personality. Always easy to pick out of the crowd, various voices meshing together in one large mass that you tried to ignore.

“The last time I was here,” you break the silence, glancing down at bright blue eyes, “you told me I’d be impressed with the entries.”

He pauses, looking at you with narrowed eyes and a twitching lip, “I was correct then, just as I am correct now-”

“Eh,” you wince, scrunching your face up and rocking a hand side to side, “I’d say-”

He cuts you off, speaking over you, it makes you laugh. Holding your hands in surrender at his stern tone, “New minds bring new innovations, different outlooks that we haven’t thought of. It’s brilliant, what the mind can do without restrictions.”

Stopping at the end of the table, you reach out to grab a small device, painted an array of blues and pinks that resemble a chomping shark. On the side was a pin, your thumb brushing over it, nodding your head once and setting it back down. Next to it was a small card, the dimensions, components, and its purpose all messily written.

“Brilliant. Yet, the council never seizes what can excel the cities.”

Heimerdinger huffs, “Many trials can take years to complete, and other items do not get chosen.”

Humming, you choose not to argue. It was something that would always come up between you both. With him on the council, you liked to poke fun. Liked to make jabbing remarks that would cause his fur to bristle, his foot to stomp. He didn’t pick up on it until years later, and stopped indulging your antics. Tonight, you suppose he forgot. The excitement of young minds filled the air, cheerful laughter and jittering tones that spoke too fast.

The back of the crowd was already making their way into the main ballroom, where all inventors and potential patrons would speak of partnerships and opportunities. Sometimes you wouldn’t even make it to that room, instead heading home after surveying the array of inventions.

“Has the ranking already been released?” You ask, turning down another aisle. Boots tapping against the tiled floor, you brush down the front of your jacket before continuing. Most things mirrored each other, mostly the same except for a slight difference. It makes you smile, seeing the small things added. A simple touch of a difference that brought out the mind of the inventor. A different paint, a different metal, a different bolt or screw. It was all intentional to them, all things different that make them human.

“Ah! Indeed! Announced just before your arrival-” He jumps, reaching into his jacket to bring out a piece of paper. It was pristine, decorated with gold and black ink. He handed it to you with a smile, and you looked over it with a raised eyebrow. From left to right, was the ranking, name, age, and small description of each entry. In tiny numbers besides that, was where each person could be found. You briefly look over each description, coming up empty handed on what you were interested in.

Fourth Place, Ekko ---, 13, ---

Third Place, Powder ---- , 12, ---

Second Place, Jayce ---, 23, ---

First Place, Viktor ---, 24, ---

Your step falters, hand quickly grabbing the edge of the table beside you to right yourself, and you glare at the bolt that slides across the floor. It was a gear, its notches broken and chipped. Heimerdinger hums a light tune under his breath, continuing on his way. He didn’t see you almost fall, didn’t see your eyes narrow and glare at the page in hand before cursing under your breath.

Shivering, you tilt your head to the side and turn the paper over. The back was filled with an array of the named Patrons, Investors, Mages, anyone who could take a beneficiary.

In italicised gold ink, was your name.

Frowning, you glare at Heimerdinger, who continued to make his way to the main room. Perhaps he thought only two rows was enough to look at, he knew what you were here for, after all.

“I’m done here,” you grumble, turning to leave before Heimerdinger shouts your name, walking quickly down the aisle to meet you once more. Gaze stern, he regards you with a frown, “you just got here, I refuse to let you leave.”

“That’s called kidnapping,” you scoff, trying to walk past, but the Yordle stands in your way.

“You’re hardly a child, yet with the way you’re acting right now- I can hardly tell the difference.”

You fake a gasp, placing your free hand onto your chest.

“Heimerdinger, you insult me.”

He ignores you, “you must meet some of the candidates before you leave, who knows- you might find who you’re looking for!”

Sighing deeply, you refuse to look at him, instead turning back around and to stare at the open doors that await you on the other side of the room. You could faintly hear the music that floods through, glasses clinking together as connections are made.

Dropping onto your haunches, you feel your jacket fold behind your knees, puddling around you. His eyes briefly widen, before his hands rest on his hips, beginning to tap against the tiles.

Holding out the paper, you tap the front, finger brushing along the parchment right next to each name.

“See these? The names, small descriptions of what they’ve brought?” His eyes flicker, and you can see the gears turning, before he sighs.

“I do, my dear.”

“What is here that will thrive under my apprenticeship?” Heimerdinger's eyebrows relax, the fur atop his lip drooping slightly. He seems to fully deflate for a moment, and then a spark ignites, and he's set alight with a new vigor.

“If you give a plant no water, will it grow? If you simply look at an unfinished project, how will it come to fruition? You must work for it,” your name is softly spoken, a hand gently placed onto yours.

“Ha,” you laugh, sarcastic, shaking your head and dropping your arms to rest on bent knees.

“If I wanted to water a plant, I wouldn’t be here.”

Sighing, he steps closer to grab your free hand once more, his other coming to gently pat the top.

He was so kind, so gentle with the people around him. All bright colors and curious nature, a mirror to you. Dark colors, disinterested eyes and almost permanent frown.

“Each human is different from the next, you simply have to talk to them. Gage what they want to pursue, and go from there. You’ll find what you’re looking for faster that way, you know.”

Grumbling, you throw him a glare. Standing, you brush off the front of your pants, and turn towards the room once more. Some of the attendees regarded you with curious looks, whispering to their partner while making room for you and Heimerdinger. Others stared with wide eyes, clutching their drink to their chest.

The room itself was beautiful, an open space once used to present statues and large art pieces. They were moved away, replaced with small tables full of small, bite sized, foods and flutes of champagne. Large windows covered the wall to your right, letting in the sun. Thick, red velvet curtains framed them, golden tassels holding the fabric open. Some were cracked, letting in the clean city air.

There was a brief moment you hoped you wouldn’t be recognized, but your attire and companion gave you away entirely.

Piltover was the city of progress, its people dressing as such. With bright colors of gold and white, displaying their house sigils proudly on their own attire, all sparkling and proudly presenting themselves. You didn’t have a house here, didn’t have a name, you didn’t wear Piltover's colors. Keeping your gaze forwards, you try to ignore their intrusive gazes.

The room itself was chilly, and you reached to pull your jacket tighter around you. It was a deep blue, silver threading and embellishments decorating the front and back. It reached down to your boots, the material slightly billowing behind you as you walked.

You make your way to the edge of the room, and politely smile at a few young faces who continue to stare. Wearing the academy uniform, you wonder if Heimerdinger would recognize them, but the student body was much too vast now to remember each new face. They each blush, quickly turning back to whoever they were talking to while walking away. Soon, it was only you and Heimerdinger, who continued to smile like nothing was wrong.

“Why are they looking at me like that?” You ask softly, hands clasping behind your back, paper still in hand.

Heimerdinger chuckles, “you’re rarely seen in the city, and you wonder why everyone is so curious?”

“I hate being a spectacle,” grumbling, you turn to look at anything else. Trying to ignore the lingering gazes, the whispers that include your name.

“Maybe,” he gasps, “you should visit more! Oh, now wouldn’t that just be lovely?”

Scowling, you glare, shifting your stance to hiss under your breath, “oh, you’d like that wouldn't you? You little demon.”

He laughs to himself, waving you off, “you just might come to adore the city the longer you frequent. The City of Progress is ever changing, my dear.”

Ignoring him, you try and make out the faces from one another. Some councilors were present, all with a champagne flute in hand as they talked to academy students, other investors, even potential partners that could benefit for their own gain.

One boy, though, all smiling and bright eyed, continued to talk with a small group of students. The one who caught your eye, though, wore the silver medal of second place around his neck. He had a small device in hand, twisting and maneuvering it around to explain to the others how it functioned. Dark hair pushed back haphazardly, tan skin that seemed to glow under the light, he was a handsome young man.

“What of Jayce-“ you squint, “Jayce Talis?”

Heimerdinger makes a questioning sound, following your line of sight before whistling, the end trailing off, “The beneficiary of House Kiramman, I’m afraid.”

“Hm, not swayable, then?”

He only waves you off, “he seems to be prospering under their care- what of Ekko and Powder?” he’s pointing to a young duo opposite Jayces' group. Sitting at one of the small tables, drinks untouched. They were consumed in a hushed conversation, both staring inquisitively down at an open notebook. Short blue hair stopping just under her shoulders, the young girl bites at her nails. The dress she wore was violet, flowing just past her knees. It matched the pink stripe in her hair perfectly.

The boy, though, was in an academy uniform, white hair pulled away from his face. Dark skin, kind eyes, his leg tapping anxiously.

“Ekko and Powder?” You parrot, and Heimerdinger makes a noise in the back of his throat.

“Best not to separate them,” he stops short, quickly recovering “They work well in tandem, bouncing off each other as if they were small balls of energy. You’d find most progress with both.”

That wouldn’t do; you sigh. Looking back to Jayce’s group, you briefly meet his eyes. A bright hazel that shimmered with energy. He falters in what he was saying, eyes darting between you and Heimerdinger before he frantically looks back to one of his friends. Sighing, you kiss along your teeth. There was no shaking the eyes you would spot in the crowd, clinging to you. They would quickly disappear, blushing and whispering. This part, you hated the most. All the people, staring and whispering. It made you feel small, scrutinized under them. Were some of them judging you for arriving late? Were they wondering when you’d accept a new apprentice? Closing your eyes, you try to level yourself. It wouldn’t do you any good to drag yourself through turmoil.

“You mentioned a number of them requested an audience?”

“Ah!” he jumps, clapping his hands once, before scurrying away and into the crowd.

You tried to keep yourself steady as student after student was brought to you. Some were smiling, blushing as they offered you their hand politely. The conversations were dragging, them speaking of their ambitions and dreams before being silenced by your raised hand. Some would grow teary, words dying off like the light in their eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you’d smile, a sympathetic tone wrapping your rejection, “Your ambitions, although bright, do not align with what I’m looking for.”

Some took it better than others, shaking your hand once before departing with disappointed faces and sagging shoulders. Heimerdinger would throw you a glare, ask what was wrong with them, if you were doing it just for spite. Each time, you’d shrug, “they cannot give me what I need, Heimerdinger.”

One girl was promising, Sky Young. She dazzled you with her beauty, crossing her arms and smiling brightly. She had freckles that covered her full cheeks when she spoke, glasses that reflected a dreary image of you. Life danced across her face with each word she spoke, a desire to discover, to create. She offered to show you her ideas, what she had brought as her entry. Her smile didn’t falter when you declined, and for once, you could feel hope dance its way between your ribs.

Until she mentioned her schooling, and how she’d want to continue innovating and creating.

With a heavy heart, you reluctantly rejected her. She took it respectfully, dipping her head.

“I have one more idea, although he did not request an audience,” he sighed, before he departed once more. For, hopefully, the final time tonight.

Towards the two hour mark, you find yourself standing with your eyes closed, listening to your own breathing and the chatter of conversation around you. The windows had been closed, the sun shining directly through and casting shadows of people along the floor. The music was a repeat of around ten songs, you discovered, and on the seventh song you heard Heimerdinger approaching, the distinctive tapping of a cane following.

My dear!” Heimerdinger sings, stopping to stand between you both. Smiling forcefully, you ignore the onsetting headache as you look over the man in front of you. Loose pants on long slender legs, a vest that clung to a lithe waist. Fingers that gripped a golden medal, and the pommel of a cane. The ladder made your skin prickle.

Eyes scanning higher, gliding over the grey tie that fits his throat, brown hair that almost curls around his ears, and dazzling honey gold eyes that stare back at you with unwavering certainty. Shoulders relaxed, the man seemed to be studying you as well.

“This is Viktor-“ drowning out his voice, you bite down on your tongue. Heat builds across your back, sharp claws digging into your skin to drag its way over your shoulders. Fatigue deep within your bones, you clasp your hands behind your back.

“A pleasure, truly. Madam?” He smiles, it doesn't reach his eyes.

Speaking your name plainly, you tilt your head, eyes narrowed, “congratulations on first place. I don’t remember seeing you in attendance last time I was here, are you a new student?”

“Viktor has been my assistant for some time, working under my watchful eye while he completes his studies. Though, he’s one of my top students!”

A hum, and you decide to look at anything but the man in front of you. Stomach turning, you wished for a drink. No doubt, if you could drink the bubbling champagne, you would’ve had five glasses by now. Your head moves towards the windows and when your eyes catch the light, Viktor catches a flash of red tint. He almost shivers, smile wavering and as quickly as you look away, you’re back to watching him intently.

“Your patron must be proud, working under Heimerdinger personally.”

He waves you off, and Heimerdinger gives you a curious look, gloved hands clasping in front of him, “Viktor has no patron, dear friend.”

Eyebrows rising, you look back at the younger, who was glancing at the painting behind you. Pushing the wings of your coat open, you slide your cold hands into your pockets, paper still in hand. It was folded, now hidden away. You skim your finger over one of four points, pressing it into the pad of your index before retreating.

“You’ve no patron? Can I ask why?”

It was a first, seeing someone so young without the guidance of a Patron. Every one you had met, were almost all students. They each were vying for one, asking for guidance to help with their research. Viktor, though, had seemingly made it far enough by himself.

Hands boxing his vest, he only shrugs, “Eh,” he hums, “I find it more fulfilling to work by myself. I simply assist the professor with miniscule tasks when needed.”

You wince, “I apologize on his behalf, then.”

“You insult me! Viktor works diligently and without complaint, thank you,” Heimerdinger gasps, crossing his arms.

The pair of you chuckle, and before you stop yourself, you find a smile curling around your features, “I commend you, I can barely stay around him for too long before i get a headache.”

“Have you known the Professor long? You speak as if you’re close?”

Your smile falls, and Viktor wonders if he’s spoken out of line. A melancholy look floods your features, and you look to Heimerdinger, “I’ve known him almost my whole life. He’s been a close confidant to me in my times of need, surely as his assistant, you can agree?”

“I can, his guidance has helped me with my personal work.”

“Any success?” You can feel the answer already swelling between you both, and with a disappointed shake of his head, Viktor tenses his shoulders, “Only on paper, the council deems experimentation ‘too soon’”

A small bout of anger pools in your chest, such a brilliant mind, condemned to a rigorous routine of theory after theory, faux solution; one after the other to show a group of councillors, not even proficient in the field of study, what they deem to be ‘safe’. How has such a promising city made so much progress, if minds such as his were forced to sit patiently?

“Isn’t the city of progress supposed to encourage, I don’t know- progress?” Rolling your shoulders back, you give Heimerdinger a pointed look.

“Safety must always come first, dear friend! Not everyone can go into their back yard and ignite an explosion.” He shoots an equally devious expression your way. Viktor clears his throat, shooting Heimerdinger a warning glance. You smirk, and with a tilt of your head you ask teasingly, “have you blown something up, Viktor?”

“My work can sometimes cause an unwanted chain reaction, It’s not as if I want to cause an explosion.”

“‘Sometimes’? Do you regularly almost blow up buildings? What does your work entail for you, hm?”

Cheeks burning, Viktor avoids your eyes, silently cursing the professor for bringing up the select few times an experiment went awry.

“I want to help the people who need it most, and end the suffering of the common person. My work includes basic machines and tools that could make everyday life more simple, like mine-workers. Why let outdated, faulty machines cause more suffering, when something more reliable and simple can help?”

You're smiling, looking down quickly to slide the toe of your boot across the tiles. It's brief, but it allows you to gather your thoughts, “that’s certainly an ambition.”

“Reminds me of someone, no?” Heimerdinger nudges your leg, and you wave him away. Viktor’s eyes roam your features, “You’re also a scientist?”

“I… used to be, when I was young. Now, I simply provide the necessary equipment for the work to continue. Of course, I oversee it, but I refrain from interfering.” Sliding your hands from your pockets, you flip the now crumpled piece of paper through your fingers.

“Her apprentices thrive, my boy. You should see the work others have accomplished with the tools she offers!.”

“An apprenticeship?” Viktor looked slightly confused, nose scrunching as he shifted his footing to settle more comfortably. Silent, you nod. Knowingly, you refrained from saying anything else. Your neck was starting to hurt, back aching from standing in one place for so long.

You could have walked around, mingled with others. Yet, what good would it do? Talking with polite faces that would only speak willfully of you behind your back, fake laughter and fake bonding that would, truly, get you nowhere in this society.

You’d much rather suffer the consequences of stagnation when Viktor looked at you with unhidden emotion. He didn’t try to cover them up with indifference. He bares his emotions without vulnerability, how his eyes narrow and eyebrows furrow, how his nose scrunches in annoyance, how his lips tilt in barely-hidden amusement. You can see it all flicker across his face, moments in time captured by another person’s eyes. It's familiar, you realize, how simple humans truly could be.

“Mm,” you scrunch your face, not liking the term so carelessly thrown around, “I call it a beneficial agreement.”

“Have you found any success?” Viktor retorts, smiling softly at the way you soften in disappointment. Much like his own, you yearn for a solution.

“I have not, my previous apprentice made great advances in his research. He had a great mind, I wish to find one similar.”

Your friend, though, deemed it a perfect time to raise his own voice, “Would something like that interest you, my boy? I theorize your research would thrive much more with her, rather than me.”

Ice water, poured directly over your head.

“Heimerdinger-“

“Professor-“

Honey gold meets yours, and you promptly raise a hand. It’s familiar how you both regard each other. Too comfortable, you were the one who had to cut it here.

“While I appreciate the gesture,” a warning issued within the group, blaring red, “I cannot find it within myself to consider someone who isn’t interested in the slightest.”

Viktor bites his cheek. Was he interested? He was secure with his position as Heimerdinger's assistant, yet the idea of being able to thrive in his field without watchful eyes sounded very appealing. Even Heimerdinger himself seemed thrilled at the idea of such a position for him.

“Who said I wasn’t interested?”

Kissing your teeth, taking a small step backwards, hand settling itself back at your side.

“Even if you were, I’d have to politely decline.”

Viktor, for once, finds himself at a loss for words. It’s like you’ve completely changed within the second Heimerdinger mentioned the possibility of him working under you.

“Decline? Miss,“ Heimerdinger steps closer, but you send a glare his way. It doesn’t hinder his stubbornness, “Viktor is more than qualified to take on the responsibility!”

“He isn’t-“ you stop short, head tilting as you look him over; Mulling over words that could express how against this you truly were. You look at his shoes, his cane, his chest, and finally his eyes. Curious and inviting, so alive with ambition and determination.

“He isn’t the right fit.”

Heimerdinger almost laughs, “Right fit? Viktor is my assistant, he has enough determination and willpower to climb the ranks of Piltover! Where others would falter, Viktor thrives. Even with his first time attending, the boy has won first place!”

A sense of pride, Viktor smiles, but your huff of annoyance at the statement makes the emotion fade.

“You’re correct, He’s the assistant to the dean of the academy, doing just fine for himself, as you say.”

“He could be much more, and you know this just as well as I do.”

The beginning of an argument is swelling, both Heimerdinger and you sharing glares and scowls. You’ve taken to crossing your arms, all but ignoring Viktor to turn your attention to the Yordle. Top lip twitching, Heimerdinger almost stomps his foot, “must you make things so difficult?”

You laugh, hands rubbing harshly at your eyes, sarcastically smiling, “first place doesn’t really mean anything, his ambition is too straight forward-”

“My ambition has gotten me this far, miss. If I was willing, I could get farther.”

“So you agree?” gaze narrow, you turn to him with sternness, “you choose to stay stagnant in your current position?”

It's his turn to flare with annoyance, and his eyebrows furrow, “No, I choose to benefit from my current position.”

“The boy is learning, absorbing the information that he gets his hands on. Working under you, he would be exposed to a plethora of material- he would rise higher than he ever could working under me.”

You raise a hand, and suddenly Heimerdinger breathes a heavy sigh, “Viktor, you have a brilliant mind, and a unique outlook. Yet, you do not fit the qualification I’ve set for the position.”

“My dear-” you pointedly glared, and he fell silent, “I wish you the best of luck in your research, now if you’ll excuse me gentleman, I have overstayed my welcome.”

Ignoring the calls of your name, you make your way back to the front of the building. Someone tries to step in your path, but with a tilt of your shoulder you easily slide past them, shortly turning them down with a not-so-pleasant glare.

You had lost yourself in how easy-going it was to converse with Viktor, almost forgetting why you were there in the first place. In reality, he was the most promising individual you’ve come across. Yet, you couldn’t find it within yourself to take him from the place he thrives most. He wanted to change the city for the better, pursuing actual innovation. How could Heimerdinger cast upon you the decision to ask him to leave his home? To cast aside his well earned position?

Your carriage was still waiting patiently among the others. The sun was starting to set, casting golden rays through the trees that lined the street. There was a man on stilts slowly walking down the street, lighting the lamps that stood tall. The footman smiles when seeing you, opening the door and offering you his hand.

Settling yourself down in the uncomfortable seating, you look over the paper, crumpled and folded one to many times. The edges were worn with your fiddling, and slowly you unfold it to look over the seemingly never ending list of names.

First place, Viktor —-

There's a small sliding door that sits between you and the coachman, a little bigger than the size of your hand. Silver hinges with small ornate detailing, and a matching silver latch that swung side to side during the bumpy rides. It slides open smoothly, green eyes and white bushy eyebrows gaze back with a softness akin to a grandfather.

“Where to, my lady?”

Clearing your throat, swallowing thickly, you toss the paper onto the seat beside you. Relaxing, you breathe deeply and take one final look at the museum, “take me home.”

“As you wish, my lady”

------

Your home was large enough to house a great family, yet only you remained. The halls were dark, two wings once occupied with life. Now, only a few rooms from each were used. The library was full of unread books, your laboratory untouched by your hands for years. Your office was where you mainly resided. In front of the windows that climbed up to your ceiling, filling the room with dimmed light that cascaded over the misty hills. The estate's walls were cold, its occupants bundling with layers to defend themselves from sickness. You’ve grown used to it, but your staff still wandered around with pink noses and thick shawls.

One member of the staff, Miss Aleena, was one of the few who remained. Her grey eyes regarded you with warmth, wrinkles and tired smile showing her years. She was slower, yet still refused to rest. She continued with her work day after day, and sometimes kept you company during her downtime. She made her way around your office easily, stepping over thrown books and crumpled pieces of paper. All to set a wine glass on your desk, though what filled it was not wine.

“Three animals today, my lady. Deer, fox, or rabbit?”

You hum, still gazing at the rolling hills. The glass was held together with silver framing, a thick set of curtains hanging from the ceiling and pooling on the carpeted floor. Holding out your hand, you wait until she picks the glass back up to set it into your hand. The surface was painted with flowers, all faded. You lift it to your nose, sniffing once before grimacing.

“Rabbit.”

She chuckles, reaching out to tap your cheek. You almost wave her away, but these were moments you rarely receive. To have another person touch you, human warmth was like no other.

Spinning in your chair, you set the glass back down and slouch, rubbing harshly at your eyes. Miss Aleena makes her way to the chair that sits in front of your desk, slowly descending with a huff. She doesn’t say anything, rarely does. Instead, she lets you fill the silence with whatever words you want. Her hair, salt and pepper, was pulled back from her slim face. Grey eyes comforting as they watch you, never judging.

“I’m not thirsty.”

You were lying, of course. The churning of your stomach was the dead give away, and she raises an eyebrow at you in retort. Slowly, you reach out to grab the glass once more, raising it to take a small sip.

Blood tastes different with each animal. Rabbit, for example, was sweeter than deer, yet more tart than fox. It starts as a treat, warm and inviting, until you swallow and are greeted with the kick at the end. Wincing, you groan. Shivering at the taste, you take another small drink. It was never good to drink too much at a time, you’ve learned the hard way.

“I don’t know why the gods forsake me,” you grumble, “I ask for a simple thing. One thing, yet time and time again I’m rejected and turned away. Something is always blocking this path, and for whatever reason, I cannot get past it.”

“Maybe it’s something you shouldn't pursue,” her timid voice responds, and you shake your head. Center of your lips stained red, you cross your legs.

“Do you know what it's like to live for 800 years?”

She smiles, “I know what it’s like for 73.”

“Its a living torture,” you smirk, and she hums. “I cannot sleep, cannot eat or drink what you do. I cannot fall in love, I cannot feel happiness-”

“And why is that, my lady?”

You huff, chest squeezing, “it is a fleeting thing, happiness, love. A human can love their entire life, and feel fulfilled by the end. Humans have the pleasure of an ending, while I live in a purgatory specifically designed for me. No matter how hard I try, I simply cannot die.”

You take another drink, looking over the small pile of papers still left on your desk. Requests and letters signed with black ink mock you, the dates in the top corners taunting.

“Tell me, then,” she requests, “when you’ve fallen in love.”

The question makes your shoulders tense, flashes of memories blinking past your eyes. Years upon years of memories, yet they all boil down to moments in your life.

“I-” you clear your throat, “I can’t remember what love feels like. I suppose feelings fade with time,” you look down into your glass, your reflection staring back.

Miss Aleena sighs, “my dear, I may not be as old as you, but I am still old. I know what love looks like,” she stands from her chair, brushing off the front of her dress.

“Indulge me, what does it look like?”

“It looked like that gleam in your eyes, my lady.”

Head tilting, you watch a smile creep across her face. Chuckling, you rub your thumb along the top of your hand, cold as always. Miss Aleena reached out, gesturing to your almost empty cup, “would you like a refill?”

You shake your head, and watch as she turns to make your way back to the door. Spinning, you turn your gaze back to the misty hills, how the sun tries to break through, and tries to wrap a golden blanket around the trees that border your land.

“Maybe I should just have you find me someone.”

Miss Aileena laughed, old and tired, she sounded like her mother, “I think that’s a terrible idea.”

“How so? You’re a great observer, and you follow my instructions without retort!”

“I don’t know much about science, my lady. If I were to bring someone in, you would find something inadequate.”

She was right, and you knew it.

The door opens, and a male voice clears his throat. You almost groan, instead you rest your elbow on the arm of your chair, supporting your head on a clenched fist.

“My lady?” It was Benedict, who’s voice matched his appearance. Silky and smooth, all fine cursive lines that dance across his body. You can hear his smile as he looks at Miss Aleena.

“Ah, hello nana,” he says softly, before the door creaks and he coughs.

“What is it, Benedict?” Nails tapping, your head rolls to rest against the chair. His body straightens, green eyes roaming over your desk. His cheeks were pink, and he sniffled before speaking.

“You have a visitor- I told him you didn’t take guests, but he was very adamant on seeing you.”

Your tongue lightly grazes your canines, feeling the sharp points. You can barely remember the last time you used them, opting for your kitchen to hunt and gather your drinks.

They, your hunter, would leave in the morning when the dew still clung to the grass. They’d gather enough animals to last the following week, put them in the freezer, and then go back to their home in the village. Of course, you offered housing here, but it only took them one look at the vine covered rocks to politely decline.

“How adamant?” You tease, hearing Benedict huff, his clothes rustling.

“He said he wouldn’t leave until he had an audience with you.”

“Hm,” you muse, using your foot to sway the chair back and forth slightly.

“Let him in, then”

Benedict nods, shaggy hair falling in front of his eyes as he backs from the room, heavy steps receding down the hallway. Miss Aileen’s heels click across the wood as she crosses the room, picking books up from the floor and setting them gently back onto your desk.

It takes a moment, but soon you can hear the incoming tap of a cane, and the hushed voices from beyond your closed door.

Hair raising, you refuse to turn in your chair as the door opens once more. Tensing, you can feel your chest clench until his voice tears through the room- assertive and commanding.

“You have to have a certain kind of nerve to accuse me of not being qualified enough to work under you.”

Your hand drops from your chin, hanging over the arm. Finger running across the tips of your nails, you refrain from sighing.

“What are you doing here, Viktor?”

“I simply find it unacceptable to push me aside and call me unqualified to work under you simply because of my status and ability to do what is required,” his tone is accusatory, anger surrounding him. Slowly, you find your eyebrows furrowing. Your head drops to the side, and you look at him from over your shoulder, chair slightly turned as to not hurt your neck.

His cheeks are flushed, eyebrows pinched together in anger as he leans against his cane. Miss Aileen stands to the side, eyes wide as she looks at him. His golden eyes falter when they meet yours, flickering between your dazzling gaze. When you turn the chair more, the sun that barely peaks through the clouds catches them, red shining through briefly.

It makes him shiver, how predatory your gaze was.

“Miss Aileen, please give us the room,” you don’t break eye contact, instead turning the chair so you face him fully. It gives him the charm to look you over, from your relaxed attire to the red tint that stains your lips.

Makeup? No, he thinks, your attire betrays the need for makeup. You were home, relaxed enough to not find the need for it. Eyes flicker to the desk, landing on the almost empty glass.

Ah, the wine.

“Say again?”

He huffs, feeling that anger flare in his stomach and he stands tall once more, why was he here? He didn’t quite know, following that gut instinct to follow you and prove that he was right for the role he still knew nothing about.

“I have worked too hard to get where I am today to simply be pushed aside due to prejudice from a person whom I’ve never even met-“

“You think prejudice is the reason for my rejection?” There’s a flicker of disappointment, a sadness that festers behind it. You sigh, rubbing at your eyes before sitting up in your chair, “Viktor, listen,” your voice is softer this time, sharp edge dulled.

“You want to create things, bring goodness to the world. My task is the complete opposite-“

“How can you come to that conclusion when you haven’t even asked me for my opinion on the matter? For a scientist, you come to conclusions rather abruptly.”

Shoulders sagging, you reach out and grasp your wine glass, the thick liquid-

Thick liquid?

Viktor watches as you take a sip, the sides of the glass stained a deep ruby red as it settles back at the bottom. It’s crimson, shining in the light and the true answer to what sits in the glass whispers itself in his ear softly.

“Is that blood?”

You smile, a sad tilt of lips, raising the glass in a congratulation before setting it back down. You push yourself from the chair, silk gown dancing around you like a breeze, it makes it seem like you are floating, gliding your way around the desk to lean against it.

“If it is? What would you do, Viktor?”

His breath catches in his throat, and he mulls over what he could possibly say.

“If I told you, my life goes against the natural order, would you believe me?”

Your hands brace behind you, feet crossing at the ankles as you regard him with a glint in your eyes. You're assessing him. Watching as his eyes flicker around you, watch as he tenses, jaw clenching. Watch as his hand grips the pommel of his cane just a little tighter, how he leans away from you.

“Since you think yourself qualified, I’ll give you my symptoms and you come up with a theory as to what I am cursed with,” you spit the words. Viktor finds himself nodding, going against his own natural order as you push away from the desk. Making your way to the tall book shelf that lined the walls, your fingers skin across the fabric spines of book after book. Shoes muted by the carpet, you move silently.

“I cannot sleep, I cannot get sick, from what you’ve just noticed; I drink blood.” Slowing, you curl your finger around the top of a book, pulling it gently from its place. It was almost fully black, silver edging flaking off. A red piece of ribbon, frayed at the end, was hanging from the top edge. A book mark ready for use, he guessed.

“I live longer than normal humans, and I cannot die.”

Silence, and you refrain from moving from the wall of books. You seem to fit in perfectly, a timeless beauty. Yet, as he looks away to gaze back at the cup of blood, he sighs.

“Common, Viktor,” you whisper, teasing, “you were so vocal earlier. What happened?”

“I shouldn’t have come here,” he murmurs, taking a step back because now you’re right in front of him. Holding that book out for him to take, “no, you shouldn’t have. Now, you have to face the consequences of your own pride.”

Hesitant, he takes the book, looking over the cover and when he registers the words sewn into the fabric he almost laughs.

“A vampire?”

“Mm,” you hum, crossing your arms as you make your way back to your desk, leaning back. He tilts the book, letting it fall open to a random page. He briefly reads over it, pictures hand drawn, cursive words in a foreign language underneath. The paper was tinged yellow, wrinkled on the edges like it’d been thrown into a bath of water and then dried again.

“An immortal scientist passing down knowledge through their apprentices, what an ambition,” he mocks your words, snapping the book shut and looking back up. You’re frowning, and after turning your upper body to grab the glass, you twist it to allow the little remaining liquid to coat the sides. Faded blue flowers in front of a wave of blood, you don't look at him anymore, shoulders slumped.

“I don’t teach them, I simply have a task for them to complete. In return, they’re given access to my abundance of gathered knowledge.”

“And what is this task I’m so unqualified for, exactly?”

“Viktor,” you sigh, eyes closing. He can feel his chest squeeze, and he breathes deeply before continuing, “how do you know I’m unwilling to help you?”

“Help me? Viktor, if you had the opportunity to create death, would you?”

“Death?” His eyebrows furrow, and when you nod he can slowly see the pieces falling into place. The book feels heavy in hand, his thumb gently rubbing across the indented words that title the front.

The Known Ways Of Vanquishing A Vampire

“I want to die, and I cannot touch the tools that will create it. I need someone to do it for me, so I’ll ask again; if you had the opportunity to create death, would you?”

His brain tells him to decline. His whole life, he’s sworn to help people survive. To bring them longer life, to cure them of the hindrance that plagues them. Yet, his gut urges him to look at you. To see what you truly looked like, he can see your fatigue. He can see how your shoulders slouch, how slow you really move. To others, you were a monster. A demon who comes at night to drink their bodies dry. To him, in the moment, he simply saw a woman cursed. Forever to wander, never to truly rest.

“Are you suffering?” His voice is quiet. Lips lifting, you nod once, “yes, Viktor.”

Fingers tapping once against his cane, his gut overrides his brain, and he speaks his decision into the air with a stern voice.

“Then I will help you.”

Although there’s hesitation clinging to you, you speak with a soft voice, “let’s get started then, shall we?”

Want to be tagged? comment or send a message! ill gladly tag you <3

#viktor x reader #arcane x reader #viktor imagines #viktor arcane x reader #arcane #viktor arcane #fluff #angst #The Apprentice #HwaWrites #arcane imagine #viktor x you

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aspenmissing · 5 months ago

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ok but hear me out: gurl dad Jayce 🤩

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ɢɪʀʟ ᴅᴀᴅ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ!! || 3494 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴄᴜᴛᴇɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴠᴇʀʟᴏᴀᴅ!!

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ɪ ʜᴇᴀʀ ʏᴏᴜ ɢɪʀʟ, ɪ. ʜᴇᴀʀ. ʏᴏᴜ! ʟᴏᴜᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʟᴇᴀʀ!

ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | xɪᴍᴇɴᴀ | ᴀʀᴇʟʟᴀ

Jayce had never imagined how much his life would change once Arella was born. The once carefree, determined inventor was now a soft, doting father. Every moment he spent with his daughter felt like a treasure, each second full of joy and worry in equal measure. As Arella’s tiny hand wrapped around his fingers, Jayce’s heart swelled with a kind of love he hadn’t thought possible.

They had chosen the name Arella because it meant "angel" in a language from a distant place, a symbol of the light she brought into their lives. For Jayce and Y/N, it was a perfect fit. Arella had filled their world with joy, just as her name suggested, and every time they called her, it reminded them of the gift they had been given.

He often found himself following her around the house, keeping a careful eye on her as she explored. Whether she was in the garden picking flowers or running through the halls, her laughter filled the air, light and carefree. Arella, just shy of four, was a curious ball of energy. Her bright eyes were always full of questions, her smile lighting up any room she entered. She adored her father, and wherever Jayce went, Arella was never far behind. Whether he was in the workshop tinkering with new inventions or simply relaxing at home, she would climb onto his lap, demand his attention, and somehow manage to make even the most serious of moments feel lighter.

Jayce had always been focused on his work, but nothing compared to the joy he felt watching Arella grow. She was a constant reminder of the love he shared with Y/N, a love he never thought he’d experience in such a profound way. Every scraped knee, every giggle, every mischievous grin—he cherished it all, even if it meant his worry sometimes got the best of him.

One bright afternoon, Y/N and Jayce decided to take Arella to visit her grandmother Ximena. The walk to Ximena’s house was always a peaceful one, the sun high in the sky and the world around them buzzing with life. When they arrived, the warm aroma of spices and freshly baked bread greeted them as they entered, filling the air with a sense of home. Arella’s eyes immediately lit up when she spotted her grandmother in the kitchen.

"Abuela! What are we making today?" Arella bounced on her feet, her wide eyes sparkling with excitement as she rushed over to the stove. (Grandma)

Ximena, with her signature smile, turned to greet them, flour dusting her apron. "Today, my dear, we’re making pastries. You can help, of course!"

Jayce, ever the protector, lingered by the door. His gaze flicked nervously between Arella and the sharp utensils on the counter. He couldn’t help it—he was her father, and he couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to her. As Arella climbed onto the stool beside Ximena, Jayce couldn’t stop himself from stepping forward, a hesitant hand reaching out to stop her.

But Y/N, who knew exactly what Jayce needed, placed a gentle hand on his arm. "She’s going to be fine, Jayce. Let her have fun," Y/N said, her voice soft but firm. She could see the worry in his eyes and understood it all too well. Parenthood had softened them both, but Jayce’s protectiveness was a part of who he was.

Jayce hesitated, then reluctantly stepped back, though his eyes never left Arella. He watched with a mixture of awe and concern as Ximena began to show Kaia how to knead the dough. Arella’s little hands, still not quite able to do it all on her own, were covered in flour as she tried to mimic her grandmother’s movements. The dough was squashed here and there, flour scattered across the counter in a chaotic yet endearing pattern.

"Careful, Arella," Jayce murmured under his breath, his eyes darting nervously at the rolling pin and the knife on the counter. "Don’t hurt yourself, ángel"

Ximena grinned, clearly enjoying the moment. She could see how much Jayce cared, and she knew Kaia would be just fine. "It’s all part of learning, Jayce. Let her get her hands dirty." Her voice was playful, reassuring, and somehow able to make Jayce’s worries feel less overwhelming.

But Jayce couldn’t help it. He hovered, his eyes tracking every little movement Arella made. She reached for the rolling pin and clumsily rolled it across the dough, her little tongue sticking out in concentration. A small part of him was sure she’d somehow hurt herself, maybe slip with the rolling pin or get dough in her hair, but instead, Arella’s face broke into a delighted grin as she turned around to show Y/N and Jayce the dough.

"Look, Mama! Papa! I made it flat!" Arella’s voice was full of pride as she presented her creation.

Jayce couldn’t help the smile that crept across his face, and for a moment, all the worries melted away. He kneeled beside Kaia, brushing flour from her hair as he kissed the top of her head. "You’re a natural, sweetheart."

Y/N chuckled softly, watching Jayce’s concern fade into the warm affection he always displayed for their daughter. "She takes after you, Jayce," Y/N teased. "She’s got that inventiveness."

Arella beamed at her father’s praise, before turning to her grandmother. "Abuela, look!" she said, holding up her flattened dough triumphantly. "I did it! I did it just like you!"

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of laughter, flour fights, and shared moments of joy. Arella’s giggles filled the air as she rolled dough and shaped it into little circles, making her grandmother and father proud. But even as Arella became more absorbed in the task, Jayce couldn’t quite shake the need to hover nearby, ensuring his little one was always safe.

The sun was high in the sky, and the three of them headed out for a walk through the park to get some fresh air. Arella, full of energy, raced ahead of them, her small feet carrying her quickly across the grass. Jayce walked beside Y/N, hand in hand, both of them watching Arella with affectionate eyes. But in an instant, Arella’s foot caught on a rock, and she stumbled forward, tripping and landing hard on the ground.

Arella let out a small gasp, but before Y/N could even react, Jayce was there, his heart pounding in his chest. He rushed to Arella’s side, lifting her into his arms with frantic care. "Arella! Oh, Angel, are you okay? You’re hurt, you’re hurt!" His voice wavered with concern, panic creeping in.

Arella blinked up at him, a little surprised, but when she saw the scrape on her knee, she shrugged nonchalantly. "I’m fine, Papa! It’s just a scratch!" Her voice was full of confidence, as if her father’s worry was completely unnecessary.

Jayce’s heart ached seeing her hurt, his face showing clear distress as he carefully examined her knee. "It’s just a little scrape, but I need to clean it, Arella. You have to be careful."

Arella, on the other hand, simply dusted herself off and began to stand up, her small hands brushing dirt off her dress. "It’s nothing, Papa," she insisted, her big brown eyes meeting his with a smile that was so unbothered it made Jayce’s heart do a double-take.

Y/N walked up beside them, shaking her head with a soft laugh. "Jayce, look at her. She’s not bothered at all. You’re the one making a fuss."

Jayce, still holding Arella in his arms, looked over at Y/N with a small smile, but his worry never quite left. "I can’t help it. She’s my little girl," he muttered, pressing a kiss to the top of Arella’s head. "I just want to keep her safe."

Arella giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck, snuggling in close. "I’m tough like you, Papa. I’m okay, promise!"

Jayce’s heart melted at her words, the overwhelming concern still lingering but tempered by her unshakable confidence. He kissed her forehead gently, his fingers brushing her hair back. "I know, sweetheart. I know."

As they continued their walk home, Jayce found himself walking just a little slower, holding Arella a little tighter. Parenthood had changed him, but in the best possible way. The little moments, the small gestures, the quiet love—they were everything to him. And with Y/N by his side, he knew he could face anything, so long as they were together.

It was a typical afternoon in the house—quiet, calm, and punctuated by the sound of Arella's little feet pattering across the floor. She was racing through the hallway, her high-pitched giggles echoing as she pretended to be some kind of wild creature on a mission. Jayce and Y/N were in the living room, enjoying a rare moment of peace, when suddenly, there was a loud crash from the hallway.

Both of them jumped to their feet, eyes wide. Jayce’s first instinct was to rush over, but before he could move, Arella appeared at the doorway, her hands behind her back, looking utterly innocent. The air around her seemed to crackle with mischief.

"Uh-oh," she said, eyes wide as she glanced over at the shattered vase on the floor. "The wind did it."

Jayce froze, his brow furrowing as he looked at the scene. The wind? There was no breeze in sight, and the window was closed. But when he looked down at Arella’s big, wide eyes, a look of absolute sincerity on her face, his expression softened.

"The wind, huh?" Jayce asked, crouching down to her level, his hand gently touching her messy hair. "Are you sure, angel? The wind made the vase fall?"

Arella nodded earnestly, her voice barely a whisper. "Yes, Papa. The wind... it was very strong."

Y/N, who had been watching the whole exchange, couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Oh, come on, Jayce. Really? The wind? You’re buying that?"

Jayce, ever the soft-hearted father, just smiled and shrugged. "It is a very strong wind..." he murmured, completely enchanted by Arella's puppy dog eyes.

Y/N threw her hands up in the air, her voice dripping with mock exasperation. "Unbelievable. You’re letting her get away with it again? This is so unfair. She has you wrapped around her little finger."

Arella, noticing her mother's tone, quickly added, "I didn't break it, I promise. It was just... the wind." She gave Jayce one last pleading look, and Jayce melted under the weight of her charm.

Y/N sighed dramatically, crossing her arms. "You’re just encouraging her to be a little terror, you know that?"

Jayce looked over at Y/N, a sheepish smile on his face. "I can't help it. She’s got those eyes. It’s like she has a superpower or something."

Arella grinned mischievously, knowing she had won the battle. "I told you, Mama. The wind did it!"

Y/N shook her head, smiling despite herself. "Next time, Arella, the wind can clean up the mess too."

Jayce chuckled, still holding Arella in his arms. "You know, I think I’ll have to go have a serious talk with that wind."

And with that, the three of them found themselves laughing together, the broken vase nothing more than a casualty of Arella’s impressive ability to charm her way out of trouble.

Later that afternoon, after the vase incident had been thoroughly forgotten (or at least dismissed by Jayce), the family was unwinding in the living room, enjoying a rare moment of calm. The soft sound of laughter and conversation filled the air when suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Arella’s eyes immediately lit up, and before anyone could react, she was already darting towards the door like a whirlwind.

"Uncle Vikky!" she squealed, flinging the door open with exuberance.

Viktor stood on the doorstep, his usual serious expression softened by the warmth in his eyes as he looked down at his niece. He leaned slightly on his cane, his gaze filled with affection that he usually kept hidden behind his composed exterior.

"Hello, little one," Viktor greeted, his deep voice gentle but unmistakably fond. He was about to step inside when Arella suddenly dashed toward him, her tiny feet barely touching the ground as she sprinted with a wide grin plastered on her face.

Arella squealed, and without hesitation, she leapt into his arms, her small hands wrapping around his neck in a tight hug. Viktor shifted his weight to accommodate her, but the force of the jump caught him off guard, making him wobble slightly on his cane.

Y/N, who had been watching from the couch, quickly stood up with a raised voice. "Arella, be careful!" she warned, but her tone was filled with concern more than anything else.

Viktor, ever the steady figure, gave a quiet laugh, his smile tender as he steadied himself and wrapped one arm around Arella, holding her securely. "It’s alright, Y/N," he reassured her with a faint smile. "She’s lighter than she looks."

Arella, completely unfazed, pulled back just enough to meet Viktor’s eyes, her excitement practically radiating off of her. "Uncle Vikky, I missed you!" she said confidently, as though she hadn’t seen him in a decade.

Viktor chuckled softly, his lips curling into a small, affectionate grin. "I saw you just yesterday, Arella," he teased, though his voice carried a warmth that was rare for him.

"I know," Arella said, her expression suddenly becoming serious as she held her arms wide to demonstrate just how much she missed him. "But I missed you this much!" she said, nearly knocking Viktor's cane out of place as she swung her arms about.

From the couch, Jayce smiled warmly at the sight of Viktor with his guard down. It was a rare thing to see the usually reserved Viktor so relaxed, and seeing him with Arella was like watching a gentle giant with his favourite little companion.

Y/N, now sat back down next to Jayce, rolled her eyes with a playful grin. "You’d think Viktor was a soft teddy bear, the way she has him wrapped around her finger," she said, her tone teasing.

Viktor shot her a half-smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes but still betrayed his soft spot for Arella. "I’m not a teddy bear," he muttered, though there was an undeniable fondness in his voice.

Arella, now holding on to his hand with an enthusiastic grip, bounced around him, pulling him in various directions as she eagerly began to lead him around the living room. "Uncle Vikky, come on! I have so many things to show you!"

Viktor, though a little slower in his movements due to his cane, didn’t resist. He let Arella pull him along as she led him from one spot to the next, her small legs practically running ahead of him.

Jayce leaned back against the couch, amused. "You’re really letting her treat you like a jungle gym, Viktor."

"She insists." Viktor said, his tone still tinged with reluctance, though his gaze softened as he followed Arella around the room. It was clear to everyone that, despite his usual stoicism, Viktor had developed a special bond with his niece, one that brought out a side of him even he rarely showed.

"Uncle Vikky," Arella suddenly exclaimed, pulling him to a halt in front of the couch, "can you teach me how to make a machine that really makes my toys fly? I want to be just like Daddy!"

Viktor raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "A flying toy machine, huh? That’s quite ambitious."

"But you’re super smart" Arella said, her voice full of the same confidence Jayce often had when he was sure of something. "You can do it."

Viktor glanced over at Jayce, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "She has a point," Jayce said, grinning. "She believes you can make anything work."

Viktor nodded slowly, looking back down at Arella with an affectionate gleam in his eyes. "Alright, little one. We’ll make a deal. I’ll help you, but you have to promise me something."

"What?" Arella asked eagerly, her eyes wide with excitement.

"You have to listen very carefully when I explain how things work," Viktor said, adopting a mock stern tone. "And no rushing ahead like last time."

Arella giggled, already bouncing on her feet in excitement. "Deal! I’ll listen super carefully!"

With that, Arella eagerly took Viktor’s hand and began dragging him toward the workshop, her excitement nearly pulling him off his feet. Viktor, though still walking steadily with his cane, let himself be led by the little whirlwind, a faint smile still playing on his lips.

As they passed the doorway, Y/N called after them, her voice teasing but with an underlying note of concern. "Don’t blow anything up, you two!"

Viktor’s laugh, soft and barely audible, echoed down the hall. "We'll be careful," he called back, though it was clear he wasn’t entirely bothered by the warning.

As Viktor and Arella disappear into the workshop, Jayce and Y/N exchanged a knowing look, both of them silently acknowledging the bond between Viktor and Arella. It was a rare sight, but one that warmed their hearts. Viktor had always been the more distant one in the family, but Arella had a way of melting even his toughest exterior.

"Guess it’s just you and me for now," Y/N said, settling back on the couch with a contented sigh. She rested her head on Jayce’s shoulder, her voice playful. "And I bet Viktor doesn’t even realize how much he enjoys being her favourite person."

Jayce smiled, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "Guess so. But it’s nice to see him finally being the soft one for a change."

Y/N chuckled. "You really think Viktor’s soft?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jayce leaned in to kiss her forehead, a smile tugging at his lips. "I do. But only for Arella." He paused, his expression shifting slightly. "She really has a way of making everyone feel... special, doesn’t she?"

Y/N nodded, her eyes softening as she watched Viktor and Arella through the open workshop door, both of them deep in conversation about flying toy machines. "She does. It’s like she has a magic touch with people."

There was a comfortable silence between them before Jayce spoke again, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "You ever think about having another one?" he asked, his voice soft but full of curiosity. "Another baby, I mean."

Y/N blinked in surprise, looking up at him with a small frown. "Another one?" she echoed, her voice light with amusement. "Are you sure you’re ready for two of Arella?"

Jayce chuckled, though there was a hint of nervousness in his smile. "I don’t know. It just crossed my mind, you know? I feel like our family’s perfect... but I could see a little sibling for Arella. She’d be great with one."

Y/N tilted her head, considering the idea. "You think I’d be great with another one?" she asked teasingly, a playful glint in her eye. "You’re the one with the nerves of steel to handle it."

Jayce smiled, his heart swelling with affection for both his wife and daughter. "Yeah, I guess so. But I can’t help it. I just love how our family feels... it’s just so perfect, you know?"

Y/N leaned into him, kissing his cheek softly. "We’ll see, Jayce," she said with a wink. "But for now, I think Arella’s plenty enough of a handful."

Jayce laughed softly. "Yeah, I think she’s teaching us all how to be more patient."

Y/N chuckled, resting her head back Jayce’s shoulder. "If Arella’s teaching us patience, I think we’re in for a long lesson."

Jayce wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer. "I wouldn’t have it any other way," he said quietly, his voice full of warmth. "She’s worth every bit of it."

The two of them sat there in comfortable silence for a moment, the sound of Viktor and Arella’s voices drifting from the workshop as they continued their little adventure. It felt peaceful, perfect even, and for a brief moment, they both let themselves bask in the quiet joy of their family—whatever the future might hold.

A year or so later, Jayce and Y/N stood in their living room, grinning at each other as they welcomed their second baby girl into the world. Their little bundle of joy, a perfect mix of both of them, was named Kaia. The name, meaning "sea" in Greek, was chosen because Jayce and Y/N had always felt like their love and their family were like the ebb and flow of the ocean—constant, ever-changing, and full of depth. As they cradled their new-born, Arella looked up at them with excitement, her eyes already filled with the same love and wonder she had for her sister. The family was complete, and Jayce couldn’t help but feel that everything had fallen into place in the most beautiful way possible.

#Arcane #Arcane Fandom #arcane fluff #reader insert #Fluff #jayce x y/n #jayce x reader #jayce talis x reader #jayce x you #Dad!Jayce Talis #Dad!Jayce

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dynazrll3 · 7 months ago

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The Look Of Love (ViktorXFem!Reader)

Chapter 1

This is me and my friend's first fanfic. I'm still a beginner, so I apologise if it is too short. This was also kinda rushed and it is not proofread, but I hope you'll like it :3

You and Viktor. You were just two inventive souls who have never met eachother before, until fate united you both in a project that needed your collaboration.

Viktor was waiting patiently for you, who was also an inventor that will be working with him in a project to arrive.

Suddenly, a girl walked into the room. It was you. Viktor's gaze slowly travelled up your figure. The gentle curve of your hips, the dip of your waist, and the way your chest rose and fell with each breath you took was all followed by his eyes.

Although, there was something that captivated him about you. He was mesmerized by those beautiful eyes of yours. He could feel himself being pulled into the depths of your eyes, as if he were drowning in the endless sea of your emotions.

The more he stared, the more he felt like losing himself in the vastness of your soul.

You noticed him staring, so you cleared your throat. Viktor realised of his action and quickly apologised. "Ah I'm so sorry... Anyway, you must be Miss Y/N, correct?"

"That's right. Well then.. let's get started on the project then, shall we?" Viktor nodded and you started to discuss on how to start the project.

As you both were discussing, Viktor noticed that you were really sweet. You spoke in a soft tone, and you were kind to him. But that didn't stop him from being nervous around you as you were working together.

In the middle of the project, Viktor found out that you had a lot in common as you were both smart inventors. Viktor chuckled to know that, and you felt your cheeks flush red. You blushed at the sight of Victor who chuckled.

"Damn... he's pretty cute." You thought, not realising that you were smiling to yourself.

After a few hours, you felt a little tired from working, so you and Viktor decided to take a little break and have a chat. You then thought of a question to ask. "Why did you become an inventor?" You had a gentle smile on your lips, waiting for Viktor to answer. You were curious. What made Viktor take interest in becoming such an amazing inventor?

"I was simply just...interested." He gave a simple answer. You looked at him with a rather confused face.

"That's it?"

***

It was getting late. You decided to leave and continue working on the project the next day. You got up from the seat and turned to Viktor.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Viktor." You said, your eyes never leaving Viktor's.

Viktor's eyes softened, and he bowed with the elegance of a true gentleman. "It was an honour to work with you, Lady Y/N," he said, his voice carrying a hint of admiration and respect.

On your way home, you couldn't stop thinking about Viktor. You knew that you couldn't let your thoughts consume you, but you couldn't help but think of his genuine smile..the way he bowed , and the sound of his gentle voice.

Your thoughts continued to linger in your mind, even though you used your best efforts to push them away.

Meanwhile, Viktor sat alone in the room, a small smile playing on his lips. He was happy to have found someone with the same interest as him. A sensation of warmth and joy grew in him as he considered the connection they shared. This feeling...it was unfamiliar, yet it wasn't unpleasant.

A sense of comfort washed over him, making him feel soft and vulnerable. Viktor couldn't help but find himself eagerly waiting for their next encounter. For now, he would relish the feeling of the connection they share, knowing that there was more to come.

Chapter 2:

#viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #arcane viktor #arcane #viktor arcane #viktor x you #arcane viktor x you

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knoepfl · 8 months ago

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Mad Genius, Part ||

Characters:

- Viktor – A brilliant but physically frail scientist whose passion for progress often drives him to take risks.

- Reader (You) – A chaotic but genius inventor from Zaun. Once rational and sharp, your mind has spiraled into madness due to overuse of experimental powders you created. Obsessed with Viktor.

Trigger Warnings:

Obsession, manipulation, coercion, psychological horror, implied threats of harm, toxic behavior, and intrusive thoughts

Masterlist

Words: 1014

This is Part || of Mad Genius and I'm very happy so many liked the first part^^

Part 1: Mad Genius

Part 3: Mad Genius

Part 4: Mad Genius

The air in Viktor’s lab hung heavy with tension, laced with the faint chemical tang of powders left behind from your last intrusion. He’d sealed the windows, locked the doors, and told himself it was enough. But deep down, he knew better.

You would come back.

And tonight, you did.

The soft click of a latch echoed through the room, followed by the faintest creak of a window sliding open. Viktor froze mid-draft, the quill slipping from his fingers. He didn’t need to turn around to know it was you.

“You really thought a lock could keep me out?” you whispered, your voice playful but tinged with something far more unsettling. “Oh, Viktor… don’t you know by now?”

Slowly, he turned to face you. There you stood, illuminated by the dim, flickering light of his machinery, the same manic grin spreading across your face like a child who’d finally caught a glimpse of their favorite storybook character come to life.

“I told you,” you whispered, stepping closer, “I’d find you again.”

Viktor’s jaw clenched. “This needs to stop.” His voice was calm, but beneath it was a sharp undercurrent of unease.

You ignored him, your glittering eyes drinking in every detail of his features, as if just standing near him was enough to make you drunk with joy. “Do you know what it’s like to admire someone so much that it consumes you?” you whispered, stepping even closer. “I’ve watched you—studied every invention, every step you took. And every day, I thought, this is it—this is the mind I was meant to find.”

Viktor narrowed his eyes. “You’re delusional.”

You giggled, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead with an unsettling tenderness. “No, Viktor… I see things clearly for the first time. You and I? We’re the same. Two souls chasing progress, pushing boundaries, defying limits.”

Viktor jerked his head away from your touch, grip tightening on his cane. “You’re dangerous. You can’t keep coming here.”

Your grin twisted, growing sharper. “Oh, Viktor… Don’t you understand? I’m doing this for us.”

You reached into your coat and pulled out two vials—one a swirling crimson, the other shimmering with a pearlescent green hue. “I wanted to do this the easy way,” you said softly, a note of something almost tender in your voice. “I wanted you to choose me. But if you won’t… I’ll have to show you the consequences.”

Viktor’s heart skipped a beat. “What are you talking about?”

You twirled the crimson vial between your fingers, your smile never faltering. “If you won’t come with me—if you refuse this chance, Viktor—I’ll use my powders on the people closest to you.”

The words hung in the air like a dagger poised above his heart.

“Imagine it,” you whispered, leaning in until your breath brushed against his ear. “Your precious Jayce, crawling on the floor, mind twisted and broken. Your dear Sky, trapped in a nightmare of hallucinations.”

Viktor’s hand clenched the top of his cane so tightly his knuckles turned white. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, but I would.” Your voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Not because I hate them. No, no, no… They just don’t matter. You’re the only one who matters.”

The sheer, unfiltered obsession in your voice sent a chill down Viktor’s spine. There was no hesitation, no remorse—just the maddening certainty that you believed everything you said was true.

“You see, Viktor,” you continued, brushing your fingers lightly down the sleeve of his coat, “I don’t want to hurt them. I only want you. You and me—soulmates. Two halves of the same genius. I’ve already broken myself for progress… and I’ll break anyone else if it means we can be together.”

Viktor swallowed hard, struggling to maintain his composure. “You’re not thinking clearly,” he said, voice strained. “This obsession—it’s not real. It’s the powders. They’ve warped your mind.”

You laughed, the sound high and wild. “You’re wrong, Viktor. The powders only freed me. They peeled away the rules, the limits, the chains… And now I see everything. I see you.”

You held the green vial up, tilting it in the low light. “This one? A gift. It’ll make you see things my way—just for a little while.” Your grin widened, pure madness glinting in your eyes. “Then you’ll finally understand. We’re meant to be.”

Viktor stepped back, his mind racing. The logical part of him screamed to run, to call for help, to stop you before you did something irreversible. But another part—the part still haunted by the effects of your previous powders—hesitated, the lines between fear, fascination, and something dangerously close to intrigue beginning to blur.

He forced himself to meet your gaze, amber eyes burning with defiance. “You’re not well,” he whispered. “If you care about me at all, you’ll stop this.”

For a brief moment, your grin faltered. Something dark and hurt flickered behind your eyes, a crack in the mask of madness you wore so well. But then, just as quickly, it was gone.

“Oh, Viktor,” you whispered, almost sadly. “I knew you wouldn’t understand… not yet. But that’s okay.”

You tucked the vials back into your coat with a sly smile. “I’ll give you time to think about it. But don’t take too long, my love.” Your voice dropped into a dangerous whisper. “Because if you make me wait… I promise, they will suffer.”

Viktor’s heart pounded against his ribs, panic clawing at his chest as he watched you slip toward the window once more.

“And when you’re ready to stop pretending…” you murmured, one foot already out the window. “I’ll be waiting.”

With that, you disappeared into the night, your laughter trailing behind you like a ghostly echo.

Viktor stood frozen, chest heaving, mind reeling from the storm you had left in your wake. He knew now, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you wouldn’t stop.

The only question was: How far would you go to make him yours?

And worse still…

How long could he resist before the madness you offered started to look like the only way forward?

---

Author's Note:

This story explores themes of obsession, manipulation, and toxic relationships. It is intended to delve into psychological horror and should not be interpreted as romantic or idealized behavior. If any of the themes in this story affect you personally, please reach out to a trusted person or professional for support.

#reader x viktor arcane #oc #fanfic #arcane x reader #viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #reader x viktor #arcane fanfic #female reader

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facts-i-just-made-up · 2 years ago

Note

Facts about Greek Myths?

There are a great many figures in Greek myth and they can be hard to keep track of, so here is a quick guide to which is which:

Ajax- Warrior who invented detergent.

Antigone- Funeral enthusiast who invented civil disobedience.

Atlas- First winner of the Olympic strong titan competition.

Bellerophon- Plot point in Mission Impossible 2.

Cerberus- 7 headed dog tragically born with only 3 heads.

Charon- Lead rower for Styx.

Cratus- God of strength, but not THAT god of strength.

Cyclops- Inventor of the monocle.

Daedalus- Inventor of the Labyrinth, and thus of David Bowie.

Dionysus- Drank 24/7 but very responsibly never drove.

Eris- Goddess of fighting with each other.

Eros- God of doing something else with each other.

Euronymous- God of Mayhem.

Fates- Least creatively named destiny gods ever.

Hera- Goddess of marriage yet only Zeus's third wife.

Hylia- Goddess of triangles and disjointed timelines.

Icarus- God of disappointing ones father.

Io- Space captain and epic 3D short film, still not on blu-ray.

Jocasta- Originator of Jo Mama jokes, mother of Oedipus.

Leda- Swan enthusiast and feathery-fandom originator.

Medea- Even worse mom than Jocasta.

Medusa- Inventor of reptile-safe shampoo.

Megaclite- LOL her name is "Megaclite." Pronounced like "Clitty."

Narcissus- Basically Trump.

Odysseus- Sailor who refused to ask for directions.

Orpheus- Inventor of impatiently checking the download bar.

Ouranos- Spelling that could've avoided a lot of planet butt jokes.

Pallas- Inventor of weird looking cats.

Persephone- Pomegranate fan, looked like Monica Bellucci.

Prometheus- Stupid fucking movie, especially for using some of H.R. Giger's original designs then putting them up next to a fucking plain white squid. Also let's make the space jockey a tall guy in a suit. How did Scott think that was a good idea? Fuck that shit and double fuck Covenant for somehow doing even fucking worse.

Rhode- Sea nymph yet not technically an island.

Siren- Inverse groupie.

Sisyphus- Limp Biscuit fan who never stopped rolling.

Tantalus- I'll tell you in a minute...

Thanatos- God of dying as easily as snapping your fingers.

Zeus- When the earth was still flat and the clouds made of fire, and mountains stretched up to the sky, sometimes higher- Folks roamed the earth like big rolling kegs. They had two sets of arms, they had two sets of legs. They had two faces peering out of one giant head so they could watch all around them as they talked and they read. And they never knew nothing of love. It was before the origin of love. There were three sexes then: One that looked like two men glued up back to back, called the children of the sun. Similar in shape and girth were the children of the earth. They looked like two girls rolled up in one. The children of the moon were like a fork shoved on a spoon, they were part sun, part earth- Part daughter, part son. Now the gods grew quite scared of our strength and defiance and Thor said, "I'm gonna kill them all with my hammer, like I killed the giants." And Zeus said, "No, you better let me use my lightening like scissors, like I cut the legs off the whales, and dinosaurs into lizards." Then he grabbed up some bolts and he let out a laugh, and said, "I'll split them right down the middle. Gonna cut them right up in half." And then storm clouds gathered above into great balls of fire, and fire shot down from the sky in bolts like shining blades of a knife and it ripped right through the flesh of the children of the sun and the moon and the earth. If you want the rest, see Hedwig and the Angry Inch cuz this is taking way longer to type than I expected.

#greek mythology #medusa #hedwig and the angry inch #norwegian black metal #unreality

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shinehalley · 6 months ago

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I'm sorry, but I heard "I'd rather die than grow old without the best of you" in The Challenge from Epic: The Musical and my brain automatically thought of Agent Stone so here's a little freak out Stobotnik loosely based on this concept.

The first time the Doctor disappeared, his supposed death was so sudden and mysterious that Stone was able to disappear and put contingency plans into action without much difficulty. Robotnik's work was preserved despite the government's attempts to erase him from history, after all, the world's greatest inventor was a source of inspiration for other inventors in every country and organization on the planet. Stone focused on staying in the background and waiting for the Doctor's return, because of course such a brilliant man would not be defeated so easily, and his legacy was fixed in the shadow of the inventors' society whether the american government liked it or not.

This time, however, Robotnik left a message for the world when he disappeared. I mean, technically the message was meant for Stone, but the entire world had access to it, including the International Society of Brilliant Inventors. This meant that Stone had gone from being a nameless assistant in their eyes to Robotnik's right-hand man. It meant that everything that remained of Robotnik's work, in all its detail and genius, was either in Stone's possession or could be reproduced only thanks to his knowledge.

Soon every inventor, from the most renowned to the youngest, wanted Stone by their side in the same way that Robotnik had. The Doctor's reputation only made the man who had been able to win their affection and trust even more desirable in the eyes of these inventors, and so Stone was no longer able to hide as well as he had the first time. No matter what excuse he came up with or how often he disappeared into the most innocuous places on the planet, he was always found by some scientist with an offer of partnership or courtship or employment. This quickly became a problem when all Stone wanted was to be able to process the Doctor's death in peace and think carefully about what to do with the rest of his life.

Stone refused to reveal any information about Robotnik's work beyond what was already public knowledge among the society of inventors, and he would not give in to any advances or threats from anyone who approached him. His loyalty was palpable, and it made them want him even more just for the challenge. So that was exactly what he decided to give them. Whoever could invent something even remotely similar to Robotnik's technology on their own would not only have Stone as an assistant, but also access to all the knowledge he had accumulated about the Doctor over the years. Only someone as brilliant as Robotnik once was would truly be worthy of continuing what he had built on his own.

He never believed that there could actually be a person in this century who could compare to the Doctor and hoped that this challenge would give him time to think about what to really do with Robotnik's work and his own life. Perhaps the friendly advances would turn into outright threats when they realized he was just winding everyone up, but that was okay, Stone was prepared for that. He would rather die than actually hand over Robotnik's legacy to someone else, no matter how deserving they might prove to be.

Stone didn't know that in an even more innocuous place on the planet, Robotnik was recovering from the explosion with Shadow by his side fully aware of the repercussions of his supposed death. He was fully determined to wait for a full recovery to return to his assistant, but when he learned of the challenge, oh, there were no broken bones that would stop him from proving to Stone that he was still the best of the best among all those sycophants in that idiotic society. If his return ends up protecting his assistant from being tortured by less brilliant scientists, but just as cruel as Robotnik considered himself to be, well, let's just say it was a positive side effect.

#It's kind of tragic and kind of hilarious how much Stone looks like Penelope #the way No Longer You combines with Robotnik also gives me the same feeling #who would have thought that Sonic's old man yaoi would be like a modern Odyssey?#I'll probably write fics about them with some Epic songs #sonic movie #sonic movie 3 #sonic 3 spoilers #agent stone #agent stone sonic #doctor robotnik #ivo robotnik #jimbotnik #doctor eggman #eggman #stobotnik

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zarnzarn · 9 months ago

Note

About the Reverse Odyssey AU (love it btw), do you think any of the Ithacans start praying to Hephastus? Just in case they can't get Odysseus back to human form, at least they can ask the God of inventing how to build a new palace that's half underwater.

oh god I have to continue that.... i have 3000 wips that ive gotten inspo for all at once are descending on me guys plus I am actively getting a master's degree bear w me for a few days

also OMG fuck yes!!! Ithaka is much more involved in this than in canon since a. they r not down 600 people who are immensely loyal to odysseus b. their king made a direct sacrifice FOR THEM literally no one else would have done this no other king would ever let himself be cursed to save his kingdom c. it's been 10 years and they all find it unjust because they'd all seen him weep as he left and know he and Penelope missed each other like crazy.

(plus he was very young when he took the throne! imagine a 13 year old telling u what to do and then being right. the people of Ithaka must have been very fond of him and most would have seen him as son-adjacent)

so one person has this idea one day, and they take it to the architects, who take it to the blacksmiths, who take it to the ruler of Ithaka. She pursues her lips as she looks at it, teeth grinding at the assumption that they would succeed but not overcome the curse, but allows them to do it.

So they start.

It is harder than their initial ideas demanded. First there is the matter of structures that do not stay down long enough to stick together, then there is the matter of how to secure them. Their dreams of beautiful underwater sculptures fall through as they struggle to conjure up even a basic shelter, even in the summer calm of the waters.

So, desperate and frustrated, they pray to Hephastus.

Ithaka is famous for its dedication to the goddess Athena, most of its temples under the king's ten-year rule being lovingly dedicated to the wisdom goddess. A separate group of smaller temples honors the other gods in the main town; but the main palace and most houses are painted blue and owl feathers and trinkets and sculptures are sold in the main market- the most beautiful of artistry is reserved for Pallas Athene alone.

But the blacksmiths and architects work together to build a small shrine worthy of the inventor god; with hidden catches and rotating idols and the best of their tools and ideas burnt at the fire kept burning at the base of it.

And after a few weeks- Hephaestus blesses them.

(He cannot make up for what he tried to do to Athena in his drunkenness and on Posiedon's inescapable goading. He was young and stupid and hurt and proud and drugged- he thinks she knows this, and has long since let it pass enough to stand beside him without a second thought; but will never be able to get over his shame- so the least he can do is this.)

But Ithaka's artists wake up with the same idea in mind and rush to the shrine in the early hours of the morning to give their thanks. Then they start building- floating large stones down at the far end to mark the range, until they have raised the wall enough to drain out the waters for them to work inside. They work fast, laying down the walls within days, until it joins to where the courtyard of the main palace creeps down the side of the cliff. From the palace itself, a tunnel is dug in the main room, wrapping around the mountain through the softer rock deposits, then travelling down to the sea.

They have the blueprints Odysseus himself had commissioned for his palace, and try to add in the carvings and structures accordingly. They dare not risk more than the smallest of owls carved into the stone entrance, wary of Posiedon's wrath at his rival. They work hard, encouraged by the people, helped by the Trojan heroes themselves- and strangely, their hands never feel tired and the ideas never stop coming.

The first test comes at the start of the monsoons.

The storms roll in angry and strong, battering against the island of Ithaka as furiously as always. When it is done, the architects are dismayed to find their hard-made palace flooded and destroyed, stone displaced or missing, with one collapse of the outside barrier causing three more within.

Dejected, they burn their tools at the temple forge once more, and then go to bed.

That next morning, the youngest of them wakes up with the thought- what if we used metal to hold them together?

The royal family gives them funding once more, and they commission for marble pillars to be sent from the mainland in exchange for their raw materials; these they sink to the bottom and drain the water once more. These pillars are erected and melted into the shifting sand with hot liquid metal, until they fuse into the rock. The roofed ceiling is replaced with live kelp and seaweed, attached to the top of the pillars and bound together. The walls are rebuilt quicker- with more labour coming in when they look closer to success than before, men with guilty eyes and stubborn determination ready to do the back-breaking, risky work.

The whole island holds its breath this time, as the monsoon rolls in and the ships return. The storms roll in and-

The wall has fallen completely, leaving the surroundings unsuitable for them to put it back up, letting the water back in.

But the building stands.

The celebration lasts all day and night, with all the workers being given a place of honor at the palace table itself for dinner. Even the royal family themselves are happy, for all the disappointment of another year of failure, and are grateful in a way that satisfies them more than the money ever could.

Yet there is still the second test- the tunnel to connect to the palace.

The main digging is complete; but as they reach the end they realize they do not know how they will open it to the sea without losing men to the outburst of the sea pouring back in. The Queen twists her lips when they go to her with the problem, thinking.

"This is such a bad idea," One of the men whispers.

"Shh," Eurylochus says, striking another spear into the final barrier. Two men come forward with hammers and push it in further, and they wait until the call comes in from the surface far above from the diver outside that the spear has gone through. "Don't tempt fate."

"You are such a nice, sane man, Eurylochus," One of the men moans despairingly, and he smiles, small. "Why are our royals all mad?"

He laughs, remembering a similar conversation from many years ago. He slips the rope around the loop at the end of the spear, and feels the nostalgia twist into sorrow once more, missing his captain, his general, his brother, his king, his friend. If only he had never kept that cursed bag. If only he had the courage to step forward first, not frozen in fear and shouldered the cost instead like a soldier should for their king, for Odysseus. Had not made mistake after mistake further, ordering Odysseus out of their reach in his panic to get him to the water, not being prepared with a net to catch him both times they'd seen him after.

He kept one on his belt now, at all times.

But until the skies and seas cleared, there was nothing to do except make sure Ody had a home to return to; that he could reach.

"Let's go," Eurylochus exhales, and they all grab the ropes attached to the dozens of spears and make their way back up the winding tunnel as slowly as they can, careful not to step on even one rope or pull too hard, and risk spelling doom for them all. Hearts pounding as they walk in the eerily silent tunnel, the dark taunting them, urging them to run. But they hold their nerve and come out at the pool created inside the main court.

Eurylochus climbs out last from the pool, and smiles up at Ctimene. She looks beautiful in the Ithakan jewels once more, holding herself with more grace and confidence than much richer princesses ever had, anklets tinkling.

She nods and then turns to the rest. "PULL!"

As one, the ropes spring up tight, straining until the spears come loose and men go falling to the floor with shouts. For a second nothing happens.

Then they hear the roaring.

He knows it's water, Eurylochus knows it has to be water- but it still sounds like a hoard of monsters, the shouting of a battlefield, the cyclops when he stole the lives of their friends in his fury. He can't help grabbing his wife and pulling her back, shouting for a retreat as the water rushes through the tunnel and bursts out in a terrible din into the pool, filling it to the top and then overspilling off the sides immediately.

For a heart-stopping moment, Eurylochus watches the water catch onto the feet of the people around, rising and rising, and he remembers Poseidon's cruel smile as he crippled and cursed Eurylochus' brother and thinks it's going to drown us all-

And then the tide recedes, and the water crawls back with it.

The plan worked. The palace of Ithaka now creeps down into the sea, enticing their wayward king to find his way back home, swim back to them and be happy, even if they never solved his curse.

All they have to do now is wait.

#reverse odyssey au #LETS FUCKINT GO FINALLY A NEW INSTALLMENT!!!#the whole kingdom of Ithaca versus the fucking sea #eurylochus #Ctimene #hephastus #epic the musical #i need. to make a masterpost.#odypen w us in spirit #asks #thank you lovely anon!!!!!#really enjoyed writing this i loved your idea!!#odysseus

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sleepymccoy · 6 months ago

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I made an offhand crack about Musky over Christmas, about how he's not an inventor. My mum immediately pulled me up so I cleared up that he hasn't ever invented anything, he just buys shit other people invent.

She brought up PayPal and I was like nah, there's two blokes who's names I can't remember who made that. He bought it with diamond money or whatever gem it is his dad mines for in Africa. I hear he actually wanted to rename it X when he bought it lol, what's up with that? I think he made them sign some nda so they're not allowed to claim it as theirs

My sibling jumped down my throat about the specifics of that agreement (they reckon the blokes can claim it as their invention but Musk can too despite coming on later. Whatever, probably right. I don't know, don't think it really matters when the real message is Musk didn't invent it and has buried that truth), which was really my main memory from the conversation cos my sibling was pretty foul that trip. Anyway, we got annoyed and changed that topic to keep the peace

Mum brought it up over the weekend. Just, out of nowhere. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about that thing you said about Elon Musk, Shanny. He's really never made anything?"

And like, mum's full lefty. Lifelong Labor union-friendly anti-Murdoch lady in Australia (which is like, radical left compared to USAian structures) but she had, of course accepted the Musk facts as given

Anyway I'm just saying, talk about this shit with family. Don't assume people know what you do. Present what you know as true but no need to make a scene. It'll reach people.

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jitarossun · 3 months ago

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Smoke and Sparks

CHAPTER ONE

Summary : Now living in Piltover, you managed to become a recognized scientist and in the process, Jayce’s assistant. Somehow he convinced you to help him for a meeting with the council.

TW : Salo being an asshole, use of y/n

Pairing : Jayce x fem!reader (platonic) / Salo x fem!reader

Words count : 2.5k

A/N : This is the very first fanfic I've written ! English isn't my native language so forgive me for the mistakes, have fun reading!

Climbing the ladder has never been easy, especially when you come from Zaun. Between the mockery, the value judgements, the prejudice, how many times have you been insulted because you dared to come from the undercity? How many doors closed once you mentioned that you didn't come from the right side of the bridge?

Life tilted between working for Silco trying to smuggle Shimmer to Piltover and finding a more stable, decent, legal life.

But somehow, you got the opportunity to finally climb that ladder. You've always been good at science, you understand it easily, you reapply formulas as if they were simple poetry, and you've got a few inventions to your credit that work well. So when the inventors' competition came along, you were lucky enough to take part. Admittedly, your little mechanical butterflies on display were nothing compared to the other great scientists who had studied all their lives at the Academy, but it was enough to attract Heimerdinger's attention.

“Such a potential you got here!” The Yordle said with enthusiasm

You remembered looking surprised at his words, probably as much as all the other scientists who were smiling with their jaw clenched. How could someone like you have attracted the attention of Heimerdinger? Especially with such a useless invention?

Anyway, you'd earned your place at the academy, no matter what you'd done before, how you got it, what mattered now was what you could achieve, for yourself, for Zaun.

And you continued to climb, again and again, impressing everyone, the teachers, your mentor, your exploits had even reached the ears of the council. And it all intensified when the man of progress himself, Jayce Talis, asked you to become his assistant. You tried everything to hide your excitement but it was impossible, so you obviously accepted with a big smile, fidgeting with whatever was in your hands at that moment, practically jumping at the idea of working for someone so important, someone you had admired.

The first few months were great, you spent your time in the lab with Jayce, his partner Viktor and his assistant Sky, who you bumped into from time to time. Always there to help, always curious to see something you didn't know, always smiling and friendly, you charmed everyone. In other words, your life at Piltover was going extremely well.

Jayce finally asked you to come with him when the council held a meeting to report on its work. At first you'd refused, it wasn't really something that tempted you, even though you were now part of Piltover's high society, you still had trouble with the council, you knew, you remembered what they'd done to Zaun, all those horrors you'd seen, you still had nightmares about them and became ill when inconvenient flashbacks came back to you from time to time.

He'd finally won you over, not just with his puppy eyes, but with his words. It's true, you're charming, you have presence, you're charismatic and you know your stuff, so assisting Jayce, who was already very talented, was a bonus for him and for you. Besides, you owed him that much.

As you stood in front of the large doors leading to the council chamber, you couldn't stop the stress from showing. Your breathing unsteady, a slight trembling throughout your body, your hands clenched around your notes, it didn't go unnoticed by Jayce, who put a hand on your shoulder.

“Everything's going to be fine, don't worry“.

Although you trusted Jayce, you couldn't shake the nervous feeling in your stomach.

“Remember, they're just going to listen and ask a few questions about our work, it's like you're lecturing, you know?“ he said in a soft voice, trying to convince your nerves to calm down.

“Yes, but when I'm lecturing, it's to students who three quarters of the time only half listen and move on to something else straight away at the end of the lesson, so we're literally talking about the future and the trust the council has in you and-“

Jayce cuts you off by putting both hands on your shoulders and turns you towards him, looking you straight in the eye.

“Stop it, you've got this, I trust you, okay?“

You take a deep breath and finally nod just as the doors open and you're invited in.

You enter at Jayce's side, your steps slow and measured, your back straight, your eyes quickly scanning the room, large windows illuminating a marble table that sizes up around a central point where you and Jayce stop. You can't help but clench your notes a little tighter in your hands, your gaze quickly crossing those of all the councillors, but you're brought to rest on the eyes of the councilor in front of you, whose name preceded a family as dangerous as it was influential, Medarda.

You turn your gaze to Jayce to gauge his mood and stress, but he cracks only a big smile as his gaze settles on Mel's, who returns it with a gentleness that relaxes you slightly.

Maybe she wasn't as heartless as you thought.

Jayce turned his gaze back to you and nodded. You nodded back and he started talking about his latest advances while you stood quietly by, not really knowing what to say. You gave him some notes and some blueprints when he asked for them but apart from that, you did nothing. You looked at the councillors in front of you from time to time, flashing them a small smile as you let their dear man of progress do the talking. Their eyes were all turned towards Jayce as they listened attentively to him. All except one of them.

Your eyes met the piercing green eyes of a blond councilor who seemed to be analysing you, looking you up and down, picking out every detail of how you're dressed, the way you're standing, how you're struggling to hide your anxiety. And that look wasn't helping you at all.

He was staring at you with a contempt you'd seen dozens, if not hundreds, of times before. You know what that look means. It wasn't judging the presentation you were taking part in, it was judging you, and the only question that seemed to cross your mind was “what did I do wrong?”.

“-Y/N ? Please ?”

“-Huh?” You snap out of your thoughts and realise Jayce was looking and holding out his hand to you, probably waiting for a blueprint or something. And suddenly, you feel as if the air has disappeared from the room, you look at Jayce, then at all the notes in your hand and back at Jayce and back at the notes.

“Uh... Yes... umh…” the words were stuck in your throat, you just wanted to ask him nicely to repeat what he wanted but you were unable to. You then raised your eyes to meet those of the counselors again, some were waiting, Mel had one eyebrow raised, probably wondering why you weren't reacting, Heimerdinger smiled at you, encouraging you to continue, knowing you and your habit of blocking yourself as soon as something disturbed you. And that smile was just what you needed. You clear your throat and look at Jayce again, about to speak when someone else does.

“It might be time to speed things up, we don't have all afternoon”. A voice spoke up before you with a sharp, cocky tone, hiding a bit of anger.

You turn your head in the direction of the voice you heard, and obviously, who else but this man whose gaze was nothing but condescending a few minutes earlier?

After a few seconds of silence, he speaks again: “Are you just going to stare at me or are you going to get to work?”

You open your eyes wide, although you've been spoken to like this many times in the past, it's been a while since anyone had dared since your ascension. And yet it had happened again today, and not from a simple stranger who looked down on you, but from a councilor, one of the most influential men in Piltover. You open your mouth but only stammers come out, you've been taken by surprise, he's made you feel uncomfortable with his looks and now he's blaming you for feeling bad.

The room fell into silence, cut off by a long, heavy exhale from the counselor, who rested his head in his hand as if in a gesture of boredom. “Well, maybe next time, Mr Talis, you should bring someone more competent.”

And this time it was too much, you can't let it happen to you, you can't let yourself be put down by someone else, who may be, a councilor whose life has surely been one of extraordinary ease, you can't let him insult who you are and how you got there.

“As if you were capable of understanding anything anyway”. You replied simply, implying many things.

He straightened up and looked at you curiously and suspiciously. “And what's that supposed to mean?”

“That you're an idiot who doesn't have the neurons to understand even the basics of science like gravity, at least when you understand the word used. Maybe we should even slow down to make sure your little brain is keeping up.”

Jayce broke down beside you, the other councillors froze, not expecting such a reaction from someone like you. You've always been so kind with everyone, even with people that were disrespecting you and yet, you finally snapped and lash out at someone, except that someone was one of Piltover's council members.

“Okay haha…” Jayce chuckled and smiled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe we sh-”

“Excuse me ?! How dare you talk to me like that ?! Do you even have any idea of who I am ?!” The counselor cuts off Jayce, raising his voice as the anger is starting to take over.

Not liking his tone, you raise your voice too, looking at him right in his eyes while everyone else in the room is stunned by the scene displaying in front of them. “I don’t give a fuck about who you are ! In my eyes you’re an asshole and that’s enough for me!”

This time, everyone in the room gasps and Jayce clears his throat loudly while you’re still glaring angrily at the councilor. “UH- OKAY- we really gotta go now… We have something to do in the workshop, it’s really important and it can’t wait…” Jayce chuckled nervously once more, letting go of you and quickly gathering everything he brought. “Thank you for listening to us…”

He tugged on your arm while starting to walk towards the doors. “I'll come back later, on my own, to go through all this again and explain things more calmly this time… Forgive us once more, have a nice day” He cracked a nervous smile at the council, leading out of the room with you, and before you could leave. You heard that same councilor, again, muttering under his breath, but enough for you to hear. “This isn’t over yet, believe me.”

As you were practically dragged by Jayce in the hallways, you finally noticed he was walking quite fast, gritting his teeth and clenching both your arm and his stuff. You didn’t dare say anything, but at some point, you couldn’t stay silent anymore. “Are you… angry..?” Jayce stops in his tracks and turns around to look down at you, his gaze sharp and mad.

"How could I not?! Do you even realize what you’ve just done?!” You narrowed your eyes, he was never angry with you, you felt like a child being scolded but you don’t let it get to you, even if Jayce was currently a bit scary.

“And do you realize how he talked to me ?!” You talked back, raising your voice a bit. Jayce pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes in an attempt to calm down. “Yes, I do realize, but you can’t insult him, whether you like it or not, he’s above you, he, unfortunately of course, has all the rights of the world, and you-” He said, pointing a finger at you “can’t do anything against him”

You snatched away his finger, biting your inside cheek “so what? Does it give him the right to disrespect me?!” “No it doesn’t of course ! but does it give YOU the right to insult him ? I thought you were more intelligent than that.”

These words made you freeze. “What do you mean?” You mumbled, not able to speak louder. “You heard me, I know you enough to know that you have way more in that brain of yours than he has.” he flickers your forehead as he speaks. “Don’t let his words get you, he’s obviously trying to make you angry to blame you for anything, how can you not realize he’s trying to get a reaction out of you?”

You rubbed your forehead as you registered what Jayce was saying. “Why would he do that? I don’t even know him.” Jayce placed his hands on his hips, rolling his eyes as if the answer was the most obvious thing ever. “He doesn’t really like people from the undercity…” You immediately rolled your eyes.

Of course it was the reason. It was your turn to pinch the bridge of your nose, letting out a long exhale, exasperated. Jayce placed a hand on your back, like a sign of support, he knew what you were facing in Piltover by being from the undercity, he never saw anything but you’d told him everything.

“That’s… ridiculous” were the only words that could get off the dozens of emotions going through you. You're torn between disgust, anger, sadness, melancholy, the idea of revenge and other emotions you couldn't even name. “Salo has always been like that I think… At least for the ye-”

“Salo ? it’s his name?” You cut off Jayce who just nodded. Salo. You could finally put a name on the person you probably hated the most currently. “Salo…” You repeated, like testing the name on your tongue. Jayce held out his arm for you to take, something you did without hesitation, holding his arm a bit tightly as the anger was still consuming you.

“Come on… Let’s get back to the workshop and get some rest… And don’t worry about the meeting” He smiled at you, “I won’t ever bring you over there ever again”. You smiled too, softly, as you both started walking towards the workshop, slowly calming down as Jayce’s words were echoing in your mind. “I thought you were more intelligent than that”.

Yes you were, and you were determined to prove that it’s the truth, you’ll not let Salo get the better of you, but somewhere, he had already done it. You lost your composure in front of the most important people of Piltover and Zaun reunited and now you’re the one at fault. He already won over you a bit, but as he said “This isn’t over yet”. “The next time I cross his path, it’ll be different”, you swore to yourself.

-> Next chapter

#arcane #arcane fanfic #arcane x reader #arcane x you #Arcane x female reader #salo arcane #salo x reader #salo x female reader #salo fanfic #jayce talis #jayce x reader #jayce x female reader

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