#viktor oneshot

[yinemw]

𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

context: taking a bath with bf Viktor (gender neutral reader) I’d also like to add that this is my first time writing for a disabled character. Personally I’m not disabled so I wouldn’t know how that feels like, and it is not my intention to offend anyone or make Viktor’s disability the main focus in my writing. If anything is offensive or you guys have any tips or criticisms, I am happy to learn and fix anything!

warnings: nudity, nothing explicit though

character: Viktor from Arcane

m.list

“Is it working?” you asked innocently from behind Viktor, hands on his shoulders as you gently massage his muscles. Maybe a bit too softly for Viktor, he knew why though, you were always scared to hurt him, ever since the surgery on his back you were always extra gentle during your massages. So he knew why your fingertips sometimes felt feather light against his muscles.

“Oh uhm, yes” he answers, having been lost in his own thoughts as he looked down at the floor. Thinking about hextech as usual, new ways to improve and understand it. Wishing he was at the lab with Jayce, he didn’t like when you and Jayce wanted him to rest. “I’m feeling fine, let’s go to the lab”

“Viktor no” a sigh slips past your lips as you hold him down by the shoulders, making sure Viktor didn’t get up from the bed. The room dimly lit by a few candles and the moon shining from between the curtains. “It’s late—”

“Jayce is probably there”

“So you’d rather spend time with Jayce than me?”

“No that’s not what I said, it’s the hextech”

Your eyebrows furrow and fingers stop working on his shoulders. “You’d rather spend time working on hextech then spend time with me then”

He could hear the hurt in your voice and regretted his words. This wasn’t the first time you two had discussed the lack of time you spent together as a couple. Yes you saw each other at the lab every day, but it wasn’t like you were spending time with your boyfriend, it was spending time with your co-worker. “That’s not what I meant, and you know that” Viktor looks over his shoulder at you, leaning his forehead against yours. “I just feel restless…”

You knew that, you always paid more attention to Viktor than anyone else. It wasn’t because of his condition or anything , your gaze often just naturally wandered over to the pretty man. It was hard to take your eyes off of him, so you always saw the change of body language, knowing when he feels restless. “I know a way you could relax…since this massage clearly isn’t helping”

★

“Are you…joining me?” Viktor asked softly, leaning on his cane as he looked down at the bathtub. A few bubbles covering the surface of the warm water.

You light the last candle, placing it by the sink before turning to him. “If you want”

“I want” was all he said, letting his cane lean against the counter as he started to undress. Feeling your soft hands graze his skin as you help him, not like he necessarily needed the help to undress, but it was much appreciated. Today was just one of those days where everything seemed dull and dark, his body and mind both tired and restless at the same time.

With a little more help, Viktor sunk into the warm water of the bathtub, eyes closing as his mind wanders back to hextech. “I should be at the lab…”

“I will drown you”

A small smile spreads to his lips as he cracks open his eye to watch you undress. His beautiful significant other, the person who had stuck with him through everything. Who puts up with him and his stubbornness every single day and turned it into something amusing instead. “You’re beautiful” he mumbles, the words said in his accent seemed to have an even bigger effect on you.

Clearing your throat to pretend like nothing, you slip into the water. Sitting on the opposite side of the tub, knees held to your chest due to the small space. “We need to get a bigger bathtub” you say after watching some of the water spill over the edge.

Viktor had closed his eyes again, the tips of his hairs also submerged in the water. He felt light, and warm. It helped soothe his aches and pains, even if it was only a little, it was enough to make him feel more laid back than usual.

Finding a wash cloth and some soap, you gently start to rub it against Viktor’s skin. Starting with his shoulders, you lift his arms slightly to make sure you get every part of his body. You knew Viktor liked when you did this, the smell of your body wash and the gentle touch against his skin was always comforting.

But it wasn’t enough, wasn’t intimate enough. Discarding the washcloth, you decided to use your hands only. Skin to skin contact, to feel his muscles and skin against your fingertips. The soap making little bubbles float to the surface of the water, covering up his bare body. Some of the bubbles getting stuck to his neck and chin, glistening in the flickering lights of the candles.

“You okay?” You ask, just in case. He hadn’t said anything and his eyes had been closed the entire time. The sound of his soft breathing and water droplets filling the room.

He opens his eyes slowly, golden brown eyes meeting yours. Eyelashes wet due to the steam. “Yes” he answered simply, lifting his arms out of the water and tracing his slender hands across your chest and stomach. Innocent and soft touches against your skin, he pulled you closer to him. Not satisfied until you laid down between his legs. “I want to stay like this…you must be tired too”

He was right, you were tired, you just didn’t seem to realize until you felt how comfortable it was to lay against your boyfriend. You settle between his thighs and get into a more comfortable position, back rested against his chest. Viktor’s arms circling around your waist, holding you close and making sure you don’t slip underneath the surface of the water. His chin resting on top of your head, your body felt so soft and warm against his.

When Viktor first moved to Piltover he never understood the pleasure in taking a bath. To simply sit and soak in the water when there was so much else to do. But his whole perspective changed when he started dating you. You changed him, made his life easier, made his life brighter. As much as he wants to work at the lab, to build hextech into something that can help people, you made him realize that’s not all his life is about. So he tries to soak up every moment he has with you, and baths became a frequent routine in your relationship.

“Vik, did you fall asleep?” You chuckle softly, hearing how his breath slowed and how his arms loosened around your body. “We are going to turn into raisins if we stay here any longer, come on mister scientist”

Viktor groans, mumbling something under his breath as you force him out of the tub. Though he had to admit the water was starting to get a little too cold for his liking. And even if he would have preferred to stay a little longer, he couldn’t fight his smile as you tease him about his grumpiness.

“Do you enjoy making fun of a burnt out scientist, hm?” He teases back, throwing his towel over your head before starting to make a move to the bedroom. Still butt-naked, taking only his cane with him, the door to the bathroom wide open as he walks out. “I can feel you staring”

“Shut up!” You yell, though he wasn’t wrong. Taking a few extra seconds to admire his back, the way some water droplets still slid down his skin from the tips of his hairs. It wasn’t a view you could get sick of seeing easily.

After getting ready for bed, you join Viktor in the bedroom, seeing him already lay on the bed. Covers pulled up to his chin and eyes closed, though you knew he wasn’t asleep, his little snores were hard to miss.

“Oh to be a pretty sleeper”

Viktor only smiles sleepily, feeling the bed dip underneath your weight. He didn’t have to open his eyes or do anything, you naturally moved between his arms, molding to his body like a puzzle piece.

“So the bath helped you relax?”

“It does every time”

“Mmm good” you nuzzle into his neck, breathing in the scent of your body wash. His skin still a little damp and warm, some of the wet strands of his hair sticking to your forehead. You could feel how Viktor’s body went limp in your embrace after a few seconds. The room filling with his soft snores. If he fell asleep so quickly you knew he wasn’t lying, the bath really did do wonders.

“Goodnight Vik…sleep well my love”

[sciencebecameouraddiction]

title: deserted by fate

author: sciencebecameouraddiction

fandom: arcane

rating: PG

length of fic: LONG. it’s long. but lots of flash back scenes and building of the relationship.

genre: angst / romance / fluff at the end

pairing: jayce x reader x viktor

summary: fate never favored a trio. fates favorite was always a duo. and she knew who fate would favor. she hated being right.

note: not beta read. proof read so many times the words blurred together and i deleted an entire section that i couldn’t get back and had to rewrite. over all though, it should be good!

tag list: @night-fall-moon

there was once three. a trio. two partners and their assistant.

three friends.

three…

three……

three………

but one was always forgotten.

—————————

the silence as war died down left an eerie rattling inside the ears of those who had survived. as they looked around to see the wreckage, some who were still marked with the iridescent galaxy that the Machine Herald had left on them, others, not a physical reminder in sight on their bodies. they didn’t need one though, as piltover sat in ruins. the blood of those who died stained the marble steps. colorful dye still stained the air from jinx and the firelights entrance. but she, the third, the spare, the left behind, stood in the middle of it, unsure whether to cry, scream or run to the scene in front of her.

where the machine herald- no- where viktor and jayce were immortalized in a blinding brilliant metal, jayce knelt with his hammer in his grasp and viktor’s hand perched along jayce’s forehead.

the tears, she realized, fell on their own. leaked out of her eyes and fell past her face but she felt none of that. numb completely as she stared at the hollow husks of the two men in front of her.

her mind repeating…

three…

three……

three………

there was to be three of them.

three creators and inventors of hextech. three researchers. three friends…

they told her that…

three… lovers…

there were three… supposed to be three…

she supposed though that destiny had always lended its hand to favor the duo over the trio.

—————————

“you know…” jayce trailed off as he sat next to viktor and pulled her legs over his lap. “many times in books, the trio never makes it. fate always favors a duo.” he said it with that joking grin, tempting fate. daring it to try to make good on its word. viktor had the decency to look at jayce disbelieving.

“why would you say that? tempt anything that would ever want to pull us apart?” he questioned, looking between jayce and her. jayce shrugged, looking sheepish.

“because they never could. we’re tied together. you guys go, i go.” he shrugged again. she looked at both of them and then down at the ground.

“fate would favor you both.” she whispered. their eyes widened.

“never say that miláček.” viktor ground out turning to her, side eying jayce as a ‘look what you’ve done’.

“yeah, i wasn’t serious, darling.” jayce said, bring her closer to him and viktor. “we’re in this together and we’ll always be.”

—————————

“we’re in this together…”

“we’ll always be…”

together…

together……

together………

—————————

she should have known that was a warning flag. the conversation they had. and they weren’t together. not now. she was right. fate had favored them, in some twisted sense of humor, divine intervention or not, fate had carved out a spot where both jayce and viktor could be together leaving her behind.

she was the one to pick up the pieces… she always had been, why would this be any different?

—————————

“viktor, please! it’s dangerous! you can’t be serious!” she yelled, her anxious anger causing her voice to bellow. his eyes sliced her down as he looked her way, the glare he had for her held nothing but contempt as she tried to stop him.

“while you may have your life ahead of you, i am on borrowed time miláček.” he rose his chin looking down at her as she had put her self between him and the hexcore. “now move out of my way. i will only ask once.”

the tears were hot as they streamed down her face and shook her head. his eyes widening at her disobedience. he took a step forward but before anything could happen, jayce walked in.

“what is happening?” he asked, setting his supplies down and slowly walking over to both of them. before viktor could open his mouth she was quick to explain.

“he was trying to add more of his blood to the hexcore. he’s already done it a few times and i refuse to let him do it again. why can’t you see it’s changing you viktor? you’re not the same. please!” she begged him, no longer looking at jayce but pleading with viktor to see reason.

eyes widening, jayce moved to step in front of her. “viktor, you can’t do that. we don’t know how it will react.”

“we’ll never know if we don’t try.” viktor ground out.

“not on you.” jayce said softly. “you’re too precious for us to loose.” this stopped viktor as it was almost like flicking on a light behind his eyes. he blinked and looked at jayce and then her.

“i-i am so sorry. oh… miláček… i am so so sorry…” he started to come forward, and stopped when she took a step back reactively. his eyes widened.

“darling, please. i’m sorry.” he begged, and she could never refuse him. neither her nor jayce could…

that had been the third time that viktor had tried to add more of his biology with the hexcore.

—————————

three…

three……

three………

three times… three people…

—————————

her feet felt cemented on the marble, watching the sun play off the statues of her lovers, standing in the blood of who knew how many. her first step felt like she was chained by stones under water, attempting to walk. her second was easier, but felt like getting your foot out of quicksand. the third felt easiest and carried the most momentum as she stumbled to them, running, her body finally falling, kneeling between them and resting on jayce’s back. three shallow breaths was all she was allowed before her sobs came in full force as she clutched the hand viktor had by his side and her arm wrapped around jayce’s neck,sobbing into what would be his left shoulder.

“you-you-you

you promised…

you promised……

you promised……… me.”

her cries bellowed out around the square below, drawing disgusted glances and pitying onlookers as they saw the hextech geniuses assistant, the third partner, the sole survivor… cry out in anguish. despair. heartbreak.

“i always told you fate favored you.” she whispered, sitting there with them until their figures were carted away. with instructions from her for them to be put in the lab that they worked in, which was somehow still standing.

—————————

being in the very same lab that both… viktor and jayce had spent so much time in, herself included, felt sickening. the lack of their presence ate at her, leaving her hollow and mauled in the tide of grief. everything was as it was. nothing had moved. it was as if it was a museum. a museum of them. their chairs at the farthest point of the room. jayce’s rolling chair and viktor’s rolling stool he used often. for a moment, the lab seemed to be lighter, golden light filtering in as jayce and viktor were huddled around a notebook, talking about some equation. their heads both whip to her and smiles grow on their faces, and when she blinks, the lab is darker, filled with the blue light of the setting sun and they are no where to be found.

she walked to the couch across the lab, her fingers grazing the fabric, as she picked it up and wrapped it around herself. it smelled like them…

“guys, please, stop! it’s cold!” she pouted as jayce held the blanket too high for her to reach, viktor doing nothing but egging it on.

“just jump up and get it, my love! you can do it!” his laugh ringing through the lab.

she pulled the blanket tighter, it wasn’t cold in the lab but she was cold. no, it wasn’t cold. her body felt like it was missing an integral part to function, and now that it had been stripped away she couldn’t rebalance. walking over to viktor’s desk she looked over all the plans that were still in tact, his desk almost exactly how he left it. hot tears welling in her eyes again as she saw his favorite mug, the one jayce got for him, sitting off to the right, long cold and molded over with his favorite tea still inside. her fingers brushed against the handle.

viktor took a sip of his tea as she watched standing next to him.

“can i try that?” she asked.

“sure.” he waved his hand at her. she took a sip and almost spit out the drink. “why is there alcohol in that damned tea?”

he turned to her and smiled, holding up a small bottle.

“you spiked it before i drank it?” her tone incredulous.

“can’t hold your liquor.” he asked as she glared at him. he got up still chuckling and grabbed the cup from her hand. “come. i’ll show you how to make the tea and we can try this cup together.” he motioned for her to follow him and she did.

she always followed him. would have followed both of them to the ends of the earth if they had let her. her jaw clenching as she tried to hold back more tears as she picked up on of his many notebooks. seeing a not that was stuck in there. she pulled it out realizing it was a small note she had given to him. it was just a little something she would do is leave notes on their desks as both viktor and jayce would always light up reading them. she opened viktor’s journal realizing it was his personal one, not looking at the entries but seeing that he had kept every single one of her notes. even taking some of the doodles she would make on their schematics and taping them in. she clutched the book to her chest and walked over to jayce’s desk.

looking at the photo of him and his mom was overwhelming and she set the photo down so she didn’t have to see it. didn’t want to be faced with the reality that more people were mourning these two as it felt like that could sweep her under the current and she was barely treading water currently. looking through his notes as well she saw underneath a few sheets of equations, the pen she got him. she grabbed it, smiling as tears came back. she had gotten this pen for him for some holiday and he had used it so much that the first refill in the pen ran out. he had no idea there were other refills.

“noooooo…” jayce whined as the sound of manic scribbling was heard. “no. no. no no no no no. what the-“

“language.” viktor stopped him, not looking up. a heavy sigh heaved from jayce as his head hit the desk.

“what’s wrong?” her voice rang out from the couch.

“the one you got me? it’s out of ink! and i can’t use it anymore!” jayce looked up, almost pouting.

“then get another one?” viktor said, turning to look at jayce like he lost his mind.

“no! this is the special pen. it was part of the gift you gave me last week! it’s special!” he says looking at her. her mouth trying to fight the smile and consequently the laugh that was threatening to bubble up. she quietly got up, went to her desk and pulled out a white box. holding it out to jayce at his desk she nodded at the box and he took it. viktor watching the whole interaction with an amused glint in his eyes.

“what is this?” jayce asked looking between them both.

“just open it, ya big baby.” she said, chuckling. he smiled at the comment and opened it, his eyes widening. thousands of refills were in the box for the pen. “i was going to give this to you later but i didn’t think you’d run that refill out of ink in a week.” she admitted. his eyes lit up as he quickly replaced the refill to the pen, without her even needing to demonstrate. he tested it on paper and when it started writing again, jayce looked at her like she hung the moon.

“thank you.” he whispered and pulled her to him, his head resting her stomach for a moment, inhaling and then lifting up and nodding to himself, trying to give the pen refill box back.

“just keep it.” she said as she fluffed his hair and walked by viktor doing the same, earning a disgruntled noise from viktor. “i fear that you’ll need them often.” jayce nodded and put them in the drawer on the right.

“when do i get a special pen that i can use?” viktor’s voice asked as he looked at her now settled back in on the couch.

“how about i get you one for your birthday?” she asked and he nodded, seemingly happy with that answer as he turned back again and got to work. her making a mental note to get another one of those pens the next day.

as she opened that same drawer, the refill box was there, open and had five left. she chuckled and held jayce’s pen in his hand. the realization hitting her, viktor wasn’t going to be here to celebrate his next birthday. she walked to her desk and took out the box, holding the complimentary pen. jayce’s was golden, similar to viktor’s eyes and also the gold in house talis colors. viktor’s pen was a deep emerald, similar to zaun’s colors, with the metal being a deeper golden color. holding their notebooks and pens in her hands felt haunting. neither would be here for their birthday’s… her birthday… the pain rose in the chest as she collapsed near her desk. her body shaking as she moved over to jayce and viktor’s side. near their desks. trying to be close to them. but how can you be close with a ghost?

———————

many whispers, glares and disgusted looks were weathered as she joined the crowd of those gathering to place names of loved ones written on parchment in the basket to be burned. she pulled her hood up further hoping to blend in as the feeling of everyone’s eyes on her was uncomfortable and magnified the hurt even more.

“i can’t believe you’re here.” a man said looking at her. she looked up at him, her eyes glazed over, darkness under her eyes from not sleeping.

“your fucking partners killed my wife… my son.” he yelled as he started towards her. enforcers restrained him.

one walks over to her, “do you know this man?” he asks her. she shakes her head. he gives her a second glance. “take the stairs up there, people are gathering there, smaller crowd.” he says before he leaves. the tears in her eyes threaten to fall as she looks up to the sky, silently thanking her partners, taking it as them intervening.

walking up the stairs feels similar to the day of the fighting. when she saw them. each step feels heavy. each step is a battle itself.

finally reaching the baskets she takes her slips of paper, jayce and viktors name written on three different slips of paper and places them together in three separate baskets. just in case someone saw them and decided to not let them be burned. a fourth stayed with her, in her pocket. she turns to leave and is stopped as ximena, jayce’s mother stands behind her. their eyes widen and ximena looks her over. the cloak she wears is black, with gold clasps. but that isn’t what draws jayce’s mother’s attention. it’s the pin on the cloak, a hammer, the talis house crest. jayce’s talis house crest.

“ximena, i-“ before anything else is said, she brings her into a hug, the feeling of loss settling in her chest like a weight at the acknowledgment of her presence from jayce’s mom.

“you have been so brave.” she whispers. at that her eyes fill with tears as she sobs into ximena’s shoulder. she smells like jayce did and it makes her sob harder.

“i miss him so much. so much. i miss them both, ximena.” she cries as ximena’s hands draw her head up and she looks at her, nodding.

“i know. i know you do. i do too.” she shows her paper she brought for the ceremony.

written in ximena’s handwriting is jayce and viktor’s name. the way she’s written them it reads viktor and jayce talis. which somehow makes her cry more at ximena’s paper, at the thought of marriage and a future that could no longer be a reality. until she sees her own name at the top. the note reads her name, viktor and jayce talis. looking up at ximena questioningly, ximena smiles knowingly.

“a part of you died that day too. i mourn that as well, my dear.” she nods, tears slipping from her eyes. the same eyes that used to look at her with love. jayce’s eyes. they always joked he had his momma’s eyes because he was a momma’s boy. now, it just hurt to see. to remember. she looked down at the ground. “and he was going to marry you both, i know he was.” ximena smiles sadly, as tears leak from her eyes, informing her thinking it a kindness. it only tears deeper at the hole they left in her. but that’s not ximena’s fault.

“i’m going up to the roof to watch everything.” announcing her leave.

“just be careful, mija.” ximena murmurs as she nods again and leaves.

—————————

watching the papers fly through the air like stars ascending to the sky was cathartic for some she imagined. that’s what jayce and viktor were, two stars, burning so bright and brilliant that she had no choice but to be attracted to their light. or maybe they were the sun and the moon, so opposite but complimentary and she was just one of the many stars in the sky that admired them. they being so magnetic that they brought her into their orbit, destroying her as they exploded, for celestial bodies that burn so bright only have so much time until they do explode and take everything with them.

a lighter in hand, she takes out the piece of paper she held onto, looking at how both her and ximena both put jayce and viktor talis. she grabs a pen from her pocket, her own pen, which became a force of habit to keep on her working with inventors and hesitated before writing her own name down and burning the slip. watching it rise with the rest. ximena was right. a part of her died that day too.

—————————

the issue when an inventor goes off on a ‘genocidal killing spree of the majority of humanity’ is it is very difficult to ensure that who they were before is not erased from memory. exactly what the piltover council moved to do, as its first order of business, once the halls were cleaned, the marble treated of the blood stains, the pillars resurrected and the dead buried. exactly why she walked to the council chambers with purpose and the speed of if hell hounds were on her ankles.

the erasure would happen over her dead body. she opened the door and was unnoticed as heard the council speaking.

“the council moves to strike viktor, hextech inventor and former academy’s dean’s assistant from any involvement with hextech. all credit will be solely to jayce talis of house talis. those in favor?” a voice floated through. she knew not who it was as she never paid much attention to the council. that was jayce and his doing. wanting to create a spectacle and make connections. one of the many things he was good at, even though deep down he hated it.

“i object.” her voice echoed as she walked into the room. the council turned towards her, many widening their eyes as they realized who she was. the room was empty except for the council members. intruding on a private meeting was something new.

“this is a closed council meeting. you should not be here.” the one at the head of the table threw out. her eye twitched, at his tone and his dismissal of her.

“and you should not be discussing mine and my partners project without me present councilor.” she said as she stepped up to where jayce’s seat was at the table and stood off the left. “there are members of the founding team for hextech still alive.”

“you were their assistant. you contributed nothing to the project.”

nothing…

nothing……

nothing……….

—————————

“you can’t let them get under your skin baby.” jayce murmured as she glared up at him.

“no, you never mention me and you hardly mention viktor when talking about hextech anymore. we have contributed as much as you have. how dare you try and erase us. what happened to partners?” she asked, thinly concealed venom in her voice.

“you know that’s not true. there are just times where-“ jayce didn’t finish his sentence.

“where councilor medarda has encouraged you to not say anything about us because viktor is from zaun and i am a poor piltoverian? i heard her talking to you three weeks ago jayce.” he had the decency to look ashamed.

“if you’re not going to include me, at the very least, ensure viktor is up there with your name. or will that ruin the “man of progress” image you’ve so carefully crafted?” snarling his title at him, she walked off, not letting him say anything else. she entered into the lab, sitting down and thankfully viktor was too absorbed in his notes to talk to her or observe she was upset. stewing was interrupted from a knock on the door hours later. expecting it to be jayce she opened the door not looking at who was there but when two finely dressed men came in and sat two very expensive looking boxes down and handed both her and viktor an envelope, then left, had you feeling dumbfounded.

“what is this?” viktor asked, his accent heavy with the lack of speaking for the past 4 hours.

“i don’t know.” was whispered from her as she walked toward the box and opened it. inside was the most gorgeous blue dress, looking as though it was made of the starry night sky itself. viktor, who had followed you gasped at seeing it. looking at her then the dress.

“that will be very beautiful on you. but where are you going?” he asked.

“where are we going?” she corrected pointing to his box, as his eyes widened. each of them slowly approaching his box like it would explode. he opened it, finding a suit and tie, matching her dress completely.

“what is going on?” viktor murmured as she looked down at the envelope in hand. she opened it, eyes scanning over the document.

“viktor, i think we’ve been invited to the inventors inaugural ball tonight.” her eyes not leaving the page.

“what?” his tone shocked and in disbelief until he saw his invitation as well. “jayce was to go to this tonight, why would we be invited?”

she shrugged, and flipped over the envelope. holding it up to viktor so he can see what was written on the back.

“NO CHOICE!” was written in all capitals and underlined three times, on both invitations. both knowing this must be important.

“we have an hour to get ready vik.” she looked at him and he sighed, resigned to his fate, knowing that there would not be a request of him if not absolutely important.

“best hop to it? don’t you always say?” pointing to the back where the washroom was. she smiled at his attempted imitation of her as they both started to get ready for the night.

——————///

a car picks both up, and thankfully both her and viktor are ready just in time for it do so. she fixes viktors tie in the car, admiring how the gold and blue in his suit compliments his eyes so well.

“you look so handsome.” whispered between the stillness that had settled into the back of the car. his hand reached up, cupping her cheek, his thumb trailing her lower lip.

“if i am handsome, then you are ethereal, miláček.” her responding smile was enough to convince him to kiss her. stopping outside the event plaza, both viktor and her exit the car, her helping viktor out, merely holding out a hand to ensure he was steady, which he reluctantly takes after side eyeing her. he never liked help, but she wasn’t taking the chance that he fall since the car parked so close to the sidewalk. then taking his left arm as you both slowly ascended inside. showing the invitations and then entering to the main ballroom, both looked around.

“i thought jayce would be here.” viktor said as he took two flutes of champagne off a tray passing by. handing one to her as she sipped it, humming.

“so did i…” her eyes squinting as she looked around, waiting for what felt like the other shoe to drop. it didn’t take long as mel medarda took the stage, introducing jayce. viktor looked and politely clapped, confusion evident on his face to his partner standing next to him. silence coming from her as she glared daggers straight at jayce. connecting the dots that this was an apology event. rolling her eyes, she downed the champagne and grabbed another one as they walked by. viktor glanced at her.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, as she sighed sipping her new flute.

“i’ll tell you later. we need to listen to the man of progress speak. i’m sure it’s important.” her smart ass getting the best of her as viktor side eyed her and then directed his eyes toward jayce.

jayce scanned the crowd, somewhat relaxing when he saw both his partners there.

“tonight, is a night of celebration, innovation and looking forward to progress!” he exclaimed, people cheering at that.

“we have been able to pave the way for faster travel, ease of trading leading to increased commerce opportunities for businesses in piltover all with the first hextech invention, the hexgates.” more cheers accompanied this as well as clapping. gripping onto viktors arm, she sighed.

“i have been honored to be referred to as the man of progress, but i do feel that it is not accurate.” there were now murmurs in the crowd at jayce’s words.

“as you see, there is not just one man of progress, there are two men of progress and one woman of progress.” gasps across the crowd flow. viktor looks at her and she up at him, confusion swimming in both your eyes.

“none of this would be possible with out my partners in hextech.” his hand reaching out as he read off both her and viktors names. claps and cheers coming from the crowd, slightly reserved as it was known in the inner circles who you both were. where you both came from. “we look forward to working harder than ever to bring you our next great invention, hextech travel. revolutionizing the way we can travel to different places, not just in piltover but in all of runeterra!” cheers erupt again. jayce waves and smiles as he gets off the stage and shakes a few hands, heading towards both his partners. both her and viktor look at him as he approaches you both, a bit sheepishly.

“mind if we talk outside?” jayce asks before either of them can speak, both she and viktor nodding and following him out.

“you were right.” his words directed at her.

“i mean, she normally is, but what is going on jayce?” viktor asks, as jayce sighs.

“we talked earlier today and i realized that i had been selfish. it is not just me working in hextech, it is both of you as well. you both should be credited with these inventions just as much as i am.” viktor frowned.

“i do not want to be in the spotlight.”

“you don’t have to be. i’ll keep making the speeches, talking to people, making deals from time to time. but from now on, people will know there are three founders of hextech.” jayce looked at both of his partners and she smiled up at him.

“you’ve not been selfish. i don’t think that’s the word. maybe, egotistical, inflated, big headed…” she trailed off a teasing smile on her face as viktor chuckled.

“thank you, jayce. i assume that you were the ones who got us these fancy outfits too?” viktor asked, after handing his cane to her to hold while fixing the lapel on jayce’s coat.

“had to make sure my partners matched with me.” jayce said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

the smile on her face threatened to split it. not happy for her own cause but ensuring viktor would forever be memorialized in connection with hextech.

“thank you, jayce.” she said, reaching up and kissing his cheek.

“thank you. i don’t know what i would do without you. without either of you.” jayce says looking at viktor as well.

—————————

“as jayce talis had stated, hextech was founded by three people, myself, jayce and viktor. erasing anyone from these works does a great disservice to their memory, legacy and the accuracy of our history.” she explained.

“‘a great disservice to their memory?’” one council member asks, disbelieving. “viktor, became a crazed man, creating himself into the machine herald and almost killed us all. people are scared. there must be something done!” this was met with a murmur of agreement.

“he almost killed us all!” another exclaims, upset and angry.

“you misunderstand me. i’m not asking for his flags to be flown around or even have a banner created of him for hextech. what i am saying is that on the schematics, the trademarks, the history of how the hexgates opened piltover, changed the trajectory of our city for good and created many new forms of technology infusing magic and science, that his name is not stricken from that. that his name is mentioned. he is explained. and at the end of the day our history explains why a child who had been part of chemical warfare between zaun and piltover, who came to piltover attempting to have a better life, eventually fell victim to the very disease he had contracted due to the chemicals piltover put in the air in zaun, but still tried to save others from his same fate.” the councils eyes widened. i turn to my left, seeing sevika present as the new council member for the undercity, recognizing her from a few run ins in the past when traveling down to the undercity for parts.

“this disease plagued zaun for years, is that not right?” you asked her.

“the gray? yeah. made people sick, making them dependent on shimmer, causing an endless loop of addiction. not to mention the limbs you can loose from it all too.” her gruff voice rang through the chamber.

council members looked at others across the table, next to them…

“i vote in favor of keeping all three names for the hextech founders accurate, for history, tradmarks and any correspondence. any marketing will just be focused on hextech itself. all those in favor?” sevika spoke, looking at her i slightly nod my head in thanks, my shoulders tight as i see across the table, one by one the council votes yes to the proposed idea, except three. majority rule though.

“you got what you want…. happy now?” a gruff voice of a new council member asked above all the chatter.

“very much so.” she said, ensuring everything was taken care i are of, before leaving.

—————————

the metal statues… if you could even call them that, are set up in a garden near the lab. making sure it had lilies, roses and poppy’s in there. three flowers and so much fauna, for the founders of hextech. at the center was jayce and viktor. she sat in the garden for hours on end, working on different things, talking to them or even just sleeping. finding that if she was sleeping and touching at least one of them, the nightmares weren’t so unbearable. she still wore the sleep deprived eye bags around like they were the new latest fashion.

after readjusting the plans for hextech, placing in safeguards and ensuring that the plans could be executed, she began to build a larger team. a team of great academy scientists, in engineering, biology, medicine…

with a collaborative foundation, the scientists with her at the helm drove forth 15 years of unprecedented and revolutionary progress. creating safe water ways for zaun and air with no pollution. creating hextech travel for all of runeterra. medical devices to help those needing mobility aides, in addition to cures to diseases that were listed as incurable.

she visited the garden the day they had found the cure to the disease the gray had created in the zaunite residents of the undercity.

“i’ve been working on hextech so much i’ve forgotten to visit. i’m sorry.” she whispers, setting down sunflowers for both men. “reminds me of you both.” her laugh is humorless and flat sounding.

“but i have some news. our team was able to do it. we found a cure for your disease viktor. those who are still afflicted with it will be able to be treated for it. they won’t have to suffer anymore.” she smiled and then looked up at viktors face, the machine heralds face. her hand reached up, caressing his cheek. “i’m just so sorry i couldn’t find it while you were alive. i wish i had. how our lives could have been different…”

“it’s so sad, because it’s been so long, vik.” she looked from his face and then back up to what his face was when he died. “it’s so hard to remember what you looked like. this wasn’t who you were. and you hated photos. thank god jayce sketched you. but it’s still not enough. and i fight so hard to make sure you are remembered.”

sitting down at his feet next to jayce, she sighed. “that both of you are.” she slumped over, looking at the ground. “i went to a wedding the other day. one of our scientists got married to their partners. one’s an architect, the other owns the bakery down the street. they remind me so much of us. it was so hard to be there, if i’m honest, because my mind wouldn’t quiet the ‘what ifs’.” the tears felt foreign to her as they slipped silently down her cheeks. she hadn’t cried since that day. the very day she-

“we would have worn house talis colors don’t worry. viktor would have looked dashing in them. gold always complimented your eyes so well vik. and the colors always seemed to just fit you jayce.” her hands fiddled with her own garment… crafted with house talis colors and zaunite colors, representing the partners who still laid claim to her life. she sighed again.

“i got back from the doctor the other day. my test results came back. i have three months to wrap everything up before the reaper catches up to me. ironic that it’s three months. the irony is not lost on me.” she chuckled humorously.

“i’ll be appointing leads for the research, people who can develop hextech since i’ll be six feet under. i think they can handle it though. they’ve made incredible strides.” she looked over at jayce, then up at viktor.

“i hope you’re both not so lost that i can’t find you or see you in the after life. i curse you both to be tied to me forever.” she jokingly laughed and got up, dusting off her pants.

“bye for now, my loves.”

—————————

fate was listening. it always is listening. will always listen.

—————————

“please… just take me to the garden.” she begged. looking up at the scientist who led the medical team and became a friend to her as she battled her illness. the hesitancy written on their face.

“damn it, i am dying. there’s no way around it. but at least let me be with them.” she whispers, their medical scientist’s eyes shine with understanding as they pick up her frail body and rush her to the garden. once there, they set her down gently at viktor’s feet.

“hi.” she whispers as her lungs seize. blood coating her hand as she just wipes it on her pant. the medical scientist tries to hand her water but she waves it away. “i think it’s time.” she holds viktors hand, a little cold but the same fingers she remembered nonetheless, and wrap her arm around jayce’s neck. “i hope i’ve made you proud. “ breathing heavy and labored. “i can’t wait to see you again.” her body relaxes more into her position, as she slumps over a bit, taking her final breath. her limbs turn to jello with her muscles relaxed and some how her arm stays around jayce and her hand in viktors, some how not falling, like they were holding her up.

____________. epilogue

the bright white of the fluorescent lights blinded her as she opened the shop up for the holidays. the darkness of 5 AM still cast the street in an eerie glow and made the shop light up like a honing beacon. she quickly turned on her holiday decorations and fairy lights. she blinked a few times and opened the front door so customers could start pouring in. filling the bakery case, then making herself a coffee she had already served 5 people. the day was a busy one, with so many customers blurring together and now thankfully almost ending.

“that’ll be $11.82.” she stated as her barista began making the order. closing the till she began helping the next customers, “welcome to hex and brew, what could we tempt you into?” she spews the greeting like she does every day. hearing two men talking doesn’t throw her off but it’s the accent of the one man. czech almost, soft but confident.

“you always get that damned gingerbread drink. why can’t you get something like crème brûlée?”

“well, because i like cinnamon and the sweet.” a sigh is heaved.

“we’ll get one gingerbread latte monstrosity and a black drip coffee. both large.” the voice now directed at her as she nodded.

“name for the order?” she asked, her throat dry for some reason and her body anxious, still writing the description of the drinks on the cups, not having looked up yet. writing off the feelings as her anxiety peaking during a rush.

“jayce is fine.” the other man responds and her hand freezes mid word, right in the middle of the words “black drip” on the second cup and finally looks up at them. her eyes meeting with the tallest-jayce- first. she shouldn’t have known who was who. she did though, as confusion, then shock and wonder settle. turning she looks at his partner.

his partner…

his partner……

her partner………

partners…

golden eyes meeting hers as the same emotions span across them as they did jayce’s. tears welling as his hands reached for hers, almost dropping everything he was holding. his hands were soft and warm, so unlike before. unlike the statue in her garden seemingly a lifetime ago. jayce’s hand reached up to cup her cheek. another lifetime of memories and love fill each of your thoughts.

“is it really you?” jayce asked

“miláček?” viktor questioned.

she breaks their connection, as their eyes widen and she quickly walks around the counter to them. “i couldn’t bare for anything else to separate us any longer.” she explained with a sad smile and a shrug, grabbing both their hands and pulling them into the back of the cafe where she had a cozy lounge break room for her and her team. “man the register?” she asked her friend behind the counter who nodded confused and started taking the next orders. once inside the break room, she shut the door, standing near it and not crossing over to the men on the other side. she closed her eyes as their presence agitated and reopened the gnarled wound that was in her chest from their absence. she always wondered why she felt this longing for someone, for people who were just like them. why none of the dates she went on never worked out. she had been waiting for them. the tears fell, ugly and fast. “of course it’s me…” her inhale is shuddering. “is it really you?” she asks, finally looking up at them, her eyes widening as both viktor and jayce’s faces are wet with tears. jayce makes the first move to her, he always made the first move, wrapping her in his abnormally large body. his warmth enveloping her, with the slight spiced scent that was just him. she cried harder.

“it’s me. it’s us. i promise.” jayce whispered. viktor came over, slithering his arm between jayce’s middle and hers. his other arm wrapping around her shoulder, pulling her against him too. clean musk fills the air as she turns a bit and takes her right arm wrapping it around viktors still small body.

“it’s us. it’s me. i-i am so sorry.” viktor whispers. she had never seen him cry before, but one time, in what felt like a lifetime ago talking about rio.

“viktor…” she trails off as his head is buried in her neck and they stay there, time holding no meaning to any of them. there would be a lot to talk about later, but for now, right now, they found each other again. that was enough.

this time, fate didn’t forget. this time, fate was forgiving. this time… fate favored the trio.

[fourorchid]

imagine a professor!viktor grad school au where you’re a student of his at the academy this semester

its a sunday afternoon, you open your inbox clicking on an email, the subject reads “weekend seminar: the magic of physics and its applications”

it was this evening, a lecture being held by viktor himself

“open to all interested.”

your curiosity was piqued, you take a moment to consider it, always a bit shy when it came to your professor for some reason

maybe it was his accolades

maybe it was the way he could tease almost anyone out at a glance

maybe it was his striking looks coupled with something more enigmatic

or maybe it was the tension you both were forced to pretend didn’t exist

I can just slip in and out the back—he probably won’t even see me

you arrive, intentionally showing up a few minutes past the start time to slink in with the crowd. the sound of you pushing the door open echoes throughout the lecture hall

and its completely empty—save for viktor himself, shuffling through notes on the podium, now looking up at the sound of your entrance

“you are late, miss y/n” a small smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth, not missing the irony

“sorry, was I interrupting?” the teasing remark flies out before you can stop it. you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, a nervous habit

“no, not at all” he chuckles

his eyes flit over your expression—you always seem to catch him off guard

he found it refreshing

“in fact, you appear to be my only audience member this evening.”

so much for going unnoticed

despite the one-on-one setting, viktor doesn't miss a beat, delivering his material in the same manner as usual. his eyes settle momentarily on the front row where you sat, pen skittering across the page of your notebook

you loosen up a bit, falling into the smooth cadence of his voice—but your focus wanes every time his gaze finds yours, checking your comprehension

you start to feel warmer

you reach to your bag for a clip and begin pulling your hair up from your neck to cool off

and viktor’s flow catches in his throat for just a second

you think maybe you had imagined it

he continues

“then you find yourself at a standstill, this mechanism will eventually become too unstable for longterm use—so, how might one rectify the situation?”

viktor turns to address the room, scanning the empty seats with a touch of humor before landing on you

something about it felt entirely too intimate

you pause, allowing the pulse thumping in your ears to steady

“…maybe start by pushing further? test the stabilizer to find its limits,” you suggest,

“see how far it can go before it breaks.”

viktor shrugs, considering your approach

“what about potential risk? you gain valuable information, of course, but could ruin the entire mechanism in the process, no?”

the gleam in his eye told you he didn’t disagree—just wanted to see if you’d take the challenge

you swallow

“well, I guess there’s no reward without some risk, right professor?”

your words hang in the air alongside something more charged, waiting to be acknowledged

viktor stares into you with a look you can’t quite decipher; examining, but with a hint of amusement at the center

“mm, speaking to my spirit, miss y/n?” he smiles, almost playful

you exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding

“I suppose it would be hypocritical of me to argue with that.” he adds

the tension subsides but is too stubborn to fully leave, you do your best to ignore it

the rest of the lecture goes by in a blur, you could only take so much one-on-one time with viktor before your focus shifted towards other things.

like how his hands carefully wrapped around the edge of his cane

or how his voice sounded both soothing and provoking at the same time

or how his posture always seemed to refuse to face anywhere but towards you

“I believe that would conclude our seminar for the evening” viktor clasps his hands together gently, breaking you from thought, “any questions?”

you shake your head politely, viktor nods back with a soft smile

“in that case, class is dismissed.”

you begin packing up your notes, viktor does the same

“thank you for joining me, miss y/n” you look up as he speaks, formal but sincere

“thank you for having me, professor”

“it was my pleasure,” he holds your stare, “and please—you may call me viktor”

you nod, turning away before he could notice the flush making its way up your neck

you stand from your seat, sliding your bag onto your shoulder as you reached the door

“have a good night, viktor”

truthfully, you don’t know what possessed you to practically purr his name like that as you left—but neither one of you seemed to mind

“mm, and you as well, miss y/n”

[tinyproprodigy]

"A Scientist and The Ballet of Hextech" - Viktor x Male Danseur Reader.

𖤐 ִֶָ 𓂃 🧷

The grand hall is alive with the hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the soft rustle of silk and satin. Viktor stands near the back, leaning on his cane, his sharp eyes scanning the room with mild disinterest. Jayce had insisted he attend, claiming it would be “good for networking,” but Viktor would much rather be in his lab, tinkering with his latest project.

The lights dim, and the audience falls silent. The curtains part, and the performance begins. Viktor’s gaze is drawn to the figure at the center of the stage—the danseur. His movements are precise, fluid, and filled with an intensity that makes it impossible to look away. Viktor finds himself leaning forward slightly, his analytical mind momentarily silenced by the raw emotion on display.

But then it happens—a tiny misstep, so small that no one else seems to notice. Viktor’s sharp eyes catch the flash of rage in the danseur’s eyes, the way his jaw tightens for the briefest moment before he continues as if nothing happened. The performance ends, and the danseur strides offstage before the applause can even begin. Viktor watches him go, intrigued.

'Such passion… such fury.' He thinks as he mulls over the performance the remainder of the night 'It’s almost...' though he doesn't finish the thought.

A month later, Jayce bursts into Viktor’s study, his usual energy filling the room. “Viktor! I’ve got an idea—no, a vision! We need to make Hextech more accessible, more personal. And what better way to do that than through art?” he grins, waving a familiar flyer in his friend's face.

Viktor raises an eyebrow, setting down the tool he’d been using as he eyes the paper. “Art, Jayce? You want to combine Hextech with… ballet?”

“Exactly!” Jayce grins, clearly pleased with himself. “I’ve commissioned the danseur from the grand hall performance—you remember him, right?—to create a modern ballet piece inspired by Hextech. We hope to have people grasp it better with the pull of art and view it as a powerful and personal experience to unify Piltover to new changes rather than see it as the..." he thinks for a moment,"the apparent danger Heimerdinger describes.”

Viktor hesitates, his mind flashing back to the danseur’s performance, the fire in his eyes. “I’m not sure I’m the right person for this, Jayce. I’m a scientist, not an artist.”

“But that’s the point!” Jayce insists. “You’re the perfect person to bridge the gap between technology and art. Besides, I think you’ll find the experience… fascinating.”

Viktor sighs, but there’s a flicker of curiosity in his chest. He mulls it over for a moment, his thoughts drifting back to the danseur’s raw passion and fury. It might be worth it just to see him perform again.

“Very well,” Viktor says finally. “I’ll meet with him.”

“Trust me, Viktor. This is going to be incredible! You’ll see!”

The grand hall is quiet on later night, the only sound the soft echo of music and the rhythmic tapping of the danseur’s feet as he practices late into the night. Viktor hears the music as he passes by, his curiosity piqued. He follows the sound, his cane tapping softly against the floor.

He finds the danseur onstage, completely absorbed in his art. Viktor watches from the shadows, mesmerized by the precision and emotion of the performance. When the music stops, the danseur finally notices him.

“Who’s there?” He snaps, his voice sharp with irritation.

Viktor steps into the light, raising a hand in a placating gesture. “It is just I, my apologies. I didn’t mean to intrude. I was… captivated.”

The danseur raises a brow, his expression guarded as he sarcastically asks “Captivated? By what? My mistakes?”

“No,” Viktor says, his voice calm and sincere. “By your passion. Your dedication. It’s… remarkable. I can see why you lead as one of the well known in your profession. Well earned.”

The danseur studies him for a moment, his sharp eyes narrowing. “You’re the scientist Jayce mentioned. Viktor, right?”

“Yes,” Viktor replies, his amber eyes meeting the danseur’s gaze. “And I already know who you are. There’s no need for introductions.”

The danseur hesitates, then gives a curt nod. “Goodnight, then.” He turns on his heel and strides offstage, leaving Viktor standing there, watching him go.

'He’s like a storm—beautiful and dangerous.' Viktor can't help but want to understand what swims behind those fire eyes.

The tension in the room is palpable as you rehearse with the other choreographers. Viktor and Jayce watch from the sidelines, Viktor’s sharp eyes noting every detail. You push yourself too hard, your frustration evident in every movement. And then it happens—a misstep, a stumble, and a sharp cry of pain.

Viktor is on his feet in an instant, his hand gripping his cane tightly as he rushes to your side. “Are you alright?”

You glare up at him, your pride wounded more than your body. “I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

But Viktor isn’t convinced. He helps you to a guest room to recover, his mind already working on a solution. Once you are settled, Viktor returns with a temporary brace he’s designed using his knowledge of biomechanics.

“Let me help you,” Viktor respons in a calming tone, tentatively taking a seat on the end bed, his cane resting on the wall near before holding out the device. “This should aid your recovery.”

You hesitate, then reluctantly agree. As Viktor works, slowly slipping your foot from under the silk sheets and placing it on his lap to tend to, you watch him with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. “Why are you doing this?”

Viktor looks up, meeting your gaze. “Because I admire your dedication. And because… I want to see you dance again. I want to see you feel how you make your audience feel. I, being one among them.”

As you take a week off to recover, you find yourself fascinated by the precision and grace of Viktor’s machines. Viktor, in turn after a weeks recovery, is captivated by your ability to translate complex emotions into movement.

You spend more time together, Viktor’s quiet admiration for your talent growing into something deeper. You, who's usually closed off and short-tempered, find yourself softening around Viktor, who seems to understand your need for perfection in a way no one else does.

The day of the performance arrives, and the grand hall is packed. The air is electric with anticipation, the chandeliers casting a warm glow over the audience. Viktor sits in the front row, his eyes fixed on the stage. Your performance is breathtaking, a perfect blend of art and technology. The music swells, the lights dance, and you move with a grace and vulnerability that wasn’t there before. That you hadn't felt in a long time.

As the final notes fade away, the audience erupts into applause. Though you stay onstage, your eyes search the crowd until they land on Viktor.

For the first time, you don’t feel the need to run. You performed, strangely, not to establish dominance and meet your extreme standards but for the man sitting front row. The man who watches you with proudly adorned confidence and unhidden fascination in your performance. The man who has calmed the never-ending blaze within you, not by extinguishing it, but by giving it a new purpose—a new flame to guide you forward.

The man who watched his muse.

𖤐 ִֶָ 𓂃 🧷

The end!! Had a dream about this and had to write it asap! Also, apologies if there is a sentence that sounds silly. I struggle to explain exactly what i want to convey sometimes since English isn't my first language, but that's the point of writing. Learning!

© property of @tinyproprodigy . please don't claim, copynpaste or translate my work on this and / or any other platforms. Like and repost please!! Love u!! ⸜(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)⸝

[ilguna]

Oh my gosh, (if it's available for the event) please please please Viktor from Arcane with 100 from the expired medicine list

☼ blood run red (Viktor) ☼

warnings; swearing, blood mention, ehh gore, wound, mention of self-harm but not in the way you're thinking.

wc; 2k

prompt; 100. "I should have left you bleeding to your death."

--

“Hey, Sky,” Your eyebrows twitch. “I’m surprised you’re here so late.” You glance over your shoulder to see the dark hallway you’ve just come down. “Or this far into the building.” When you look back at her, you tilt your head curiously. “Isn’t your study down the hall?”

Sky doesn’t speak right away, lips slightly parted as her feet shuffle to a stop. She has one of her books held loosely against her chest with one hand. “It is, but I was paying a visit to Viktor.”

“Of course.” You wave your hand. “That should’ve been obvious. Is Jayce with him?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I wouldn’t go in there, though. Viktor doesn’t want guests.” She readjusts the glasses on her face. 

“That’s not anything unusual.” You tell her. “I’m sure he’ll make an exception for me. I’ll get him out of that room one way or another.”

“He says he’s going to sleep there again.” Her tone is almost defensive.

Your eyes narrow, speaking slowly, “He says that pretty often, but he always ends up with me, anyway.” You take a step to pass her. “I can pass along a message, if there is one.” You raise your eyebrows.

Sky’s face falls, realizing what you’re implying. Her eyes find the floor while she shakes her head. “No, no message.”

“Well, I hope you have a good night, then.” You smile, continuing down the hallway. 

It isn’t out of the norm for Viktor to push people away, especially when it’s this late at night. He was likely trying to let her down easy, so that he wouldn’t be caught up with her when you got there. People have a hard time catching the hint when he’s trying to be nice about it, taking his words as a suggestion rather than law.

Interesting how she felt the need to ward you off. Maybe he’s given her the speech on how important it is for him to get the last few precious minutes in before giving his projects a rest for the night. You can’t recall the exact amount of lectures you’ve received for showing up a few minutes earlier than expected and ruining his plans.

No matter how many times you tell him that you’ll patiently wait while he finishes, he tells you that it’d be rude to make you sit there and watch him. Even if you find it interesting or entertaining, he insists for the two of you to walk home. You have a running joke with Jayce that he gets performance anxiety. Viktor doesn’t think it’s nearly as funny.

Honestly, you’d be more worried if Viktor suddenly wanted people around him while in the study. Besides Jayce, they’re partners, Viktor’s supposed to want to work with him.

It takes you another minute to make it to the door, which is closed. You raise your knuckles to the wood. Knocking a few times before you reach for the doorknob. You don’t care for his permission to enter, at least you’re announcing your arrival. You wouldn’t want to startle him while he’s working with the Hexcore.

You push the door open with your hip with how heavy the wood is. “Viktor, I’ve come to keep you company, against your wishes. Or we can go home, it’s up to you.” You muse.

The door opens with a long creak, the hinges are so worn down from the weight that it slides to a stop. The space is just wide enough for you to slip inside, not bothering to open it any further. You stroll in, eyes sweeping across the dimly lit room. You’ve told him that he needs to be careful with reading in the dark, it’ll ruin his eyesight.

You sound exactly like your parents, don’t you?

Viktor doesn’t respond to your joke, you turn your head, expecting to see him sitting on the stool at the desk, but here’s not there. The stool has rolled several feet away, out of his reach. There are a few used papers scattered on the floor, surrounding your boyfriend, who has collapsed in the middle of it.

“Viktor!” You cry, rushing forward. 

You nearly trip over his cane in your haste to reach him. You hold his face with both hands, running your thumbs beneath his eyes. His eyebrows twitch, responding to your touch. And while his chest is rising and falling, there’s blood coating his lips, as if he coughed it up.

“Viktor, honey?” You can hear his ragged breathing, liquid stuck in this throat. You twist on your knees to face the door. “Sky!” You shout. “I need help!”

There’s a brief panic that fills your body when silence ensues. Then, the sound of heavy footsteps echo through the corridor as the person draws closer. It can’t be Sky, she’s got to be long gone by now.

A hand pushes the door open further, it belongs to Jayce. He’s breathing heavily, head whipping in your direction to see what the emergency is. You don’t think you’ve ever been so happy to see him in your life.

“I came in and he was like this.” You tell him.

In a few long strides, Jayce comes over to scoop Viktor into his arms, unaffected by his weight. You have enough of a mind to grab the cane before you follow after him.

–

Viktor has been absent and obsessive—two traits that wouldn’t normally stand out, if it weren’t for the fact that you haven’t seen him for nearly a week. You don’t know how he’s been successfully missing you each time you come to the study, but it’s beginning to wear on your patience. 

You understand his need for progress, and that his work is a priority. What you don’t get is him not communicating this to you. He’s had no issue doing it in the past, why the present is such a difference is an absolute mystery.

Not only that, but you’ve taken up a project of your own with Sky in the meantime, and she’s somehow disappeared from the city completely. If she didn’t have your combined notes, you’d wait for her to reappear. The fact that she’s taken it with her, despite the many times you’ve requested having them for yourself, is an irritation.

“Viktor, you better be in here.” You mumble to yourself, pushing open the large wooden doors. They’re already unlocked, telling you that he must be in here. “Viktor, I’ve been looking for Sky everywhere, and I can’t seem to find her or our notes.” You begin to ramble, “Do you…”

As you step into the room, you can feel the whole atmosphere shift into a darker energy. You can feel your stomach fly into your mouth, uneasiness halting your movements. You can’t get a muscle to move until your eyes adjust to the extreme darkness. The only source of light is coming from the glowing Hexcore on the table, that seems to have morphed into something different. The runes are gone.

A wave of deja vu makes you feel sick. You take in the mess on the floor, the discarded cane, the sheets of white paper, the pair of familiar glasses. And Viketor, sprawled on his stomach.

You stare down at him for half of a second, too shocked to move, confused at what you’re seeing. Viktor has stripped himself to his underwear and brace, revealing his damaged skin to the air. The wounds that cover his chest and upper arms… the dark purple tint of his right hand and leg.

When he looks up at you, you jerk forward, as if realizing that you should be caring for him. You fall to your knees to help him into an upright position. “What happened? Are you okay?”

You can see the wounds better up close, and they look like puncture marks. You can’t help running your fingers over one of them, listening to Viktor hiss before he seizes your hand. 

“Please, don’t.”

“You’re bleeding.” You remark, shaking your head. “And your clothes are missing.”

“I was conducting an experiment.” He says, trying to shut you out.

You won’t let him. “That resulted in this?” You ask, looking him over again, eyes locked on the discoloration. 

That looks like…

“(Y/n).” Viktor warns.

Your face falls. “What have you done?”

Your tone is a dead giveaway of your realization. Viktor pushes your hand away. “Nothing that I hadn’t meant to do.”

The curling of your lip is involuntary. “I’m not stupid, Viktor. I know this is from shimmer. Where did you get it?”

“I don’t have to tell you.”

“I’m tired of the secrets.” You tell him. “You were using shimmer for the experiment, why?”

You get to your feet, leaving him on the cold tile, no longer worried about him. You go to step around him, curious about the Hexcore, which has clearly evolved. Viktor reaches out with one arm, hand wrapping around your skin.

“Don’t get close. It’s not stable.” His voice is pleading.

“It didn’t look like this earlier today when I was trying to find you.” Your eyes shift to him. “Is this your blood on the desk?”

He doesn’t speak, sleep-deprived eyes boring into yours.

“Viktor, I’m reaching the breaking point. What happened here, and where is Sky?”

“Sky wasn’t here.” He lies.

You point at the glasses on the floor, lenses shattered. “Those belong to her.”

There’s a few beats of tense silence, and then his shoulders hunch, arm falling from your leg. “It was an accident. I think… I think Sky is gone.”

“What do you mean by gone?”

“Dead.”

“Dead?” You almost choke on your spit.

“Yes.”

Your breathing picks up in pace as you roll this information around in your head, unsure on how to approach this. Should you be worried about him killing people? He’s never shown the urge for it before. If he’s trying to cover it up, it can’t be good. Yet, he did say it was an accident… isn’t that what they all say?

“I need you to tell me what happened here.” You tell him.

Viktor’s face twists, lips turning down. “The Hexcore responds to natural elements. I figured it out when I got my diagnosis. You know this.”

You nod slightly.

“I visited an old friend from the Undercity.”

“That’s where you got the shimmer. That’s why you were on that bridge.” Your eyes drift away.

“How do you know that?”

“I talked to Jayce, because you wouldn’t talk to me.” You look back at him. “Keep going.”

“I was trying to inject my body with shimmer to alter the nature element for the Hexcore. I got too close, it sucked me in, and Sky saw. She tried to help.”

You shake your head, not following.

“She… disintegrated.”

You still, staring at him intently. “You’ve been harming yourself for this? And now Sky is gone?”

“It was never my goal—”

“Viktor, you’re already sick. You should not be doing this.”

“I have no choice. Jayce and I made a commitment, he needs my help.”

“Your safety doesn’t come first?” You challenge, watching as his face twists. “You’re killing yourself, Viktor. This is hurting you—changing you. You need to stop.”

“I will decide when to stop.” He snaps at you.

You press your lips together, beginning to back away from him. “I don’t want anything to do with this.”

“(Y/n).” Viktor reaches for you, hand landing on the tip of your shoe before it’s pulled from his fingers. “Wait.”

“I should have left you bleeding to your death.”

--

this was part of my 3k celebration!!

[hyperesthesias]

For a made up fic title:

Wallflower, Blooming

send me a made-up fic title and i'll tell you what i would write to go with it

Viktor was never a social butterfly. Often excluded from the activities of his peers, he found comfort in his own company, his own thoughts, his own concepts. His office was frequently empty, save for the rare occasion when another admin came to tell him something, or a student needed to get ahold of Heimerdinger. He preferred it that way -- whether by an acclimation to the solitude, or because in the quiet he could think clearer, he could never be certain.

The only thing he knew with certainty was that he was what others called a 'Wallflower': a person who listened, who watched, but who never or rarely participated.

It had been three weeks since he reconnected with Anya. He had already treated her to coffee, to lunch, and a tour of the Ecology department's green house. Anya loved flowers, he came to learn. It was rare to see any greenery in Zaun, thus despite growing up together, he had no way of knowing her fascination with flora. But he remembered her smile, and how it seemed to light up everything around her.

When she asked him his favorite flower, he found he could give no answer. He admitted he had never given it much thought. He'd had no need.

He wasn't used to being asked personal preference.

Neither was he used to being accessible.

Anya arrived at his office, quiet and unhurried -- she didn't want to disturb him. He was hunched over his desk, working on something in a journal; handwritten notes scrawled with fervor on every inch of the page. She smiled to herself as she tempted the threshold, giving the door a soft knock.

He didn't look up. He was completely engrossed in whatever it was he was doing.

She almost debated turning around and leaving. But she wanted to invite him to lunch -- Academy's dime or not. Viktor had always been thin, but she had assumed that in childhood it had been due to their impoverished surroundings, food insecurity, and lost appetites. She was now putting together that as an adult he often forgot to eat.

She worried about him. So she stepped inside his office.

"Viktor?" she called.

She saw a twitch in his face, as he supposedly heard her. But he still didn't answer.

She looked over his shoulder and saw a calculation for a powerful beam of light -- a laser. She pointed to an equation in front of him. "This could be inverted."

He jumped.

"I'm sorry -- I didn't mean to scare you. I thought you heard me," she chuckled.

He leaned back in his chair and ran his hands over his face. "No, no. It's -- It's fine," he let a breath, and began to laugh. He tossed the pencil on desk and combed his fingers through his hair. "Sometimes -- I get too focused," he confessed.

She smiled, observing him. He was lightly pink, as if he were blushing -- or flushed with surprise, or both. She found it endearing. "If you're not too busy, I was hoping we could have lunch together."

"What time is it?" he looked at a clock on the wall. "Yes, lunch. What was it you wanted to discuss about the Academy?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. I simply wanted to talk to you. In a personal sense. If that is okay with you."

His hands gripping the armrests of his chair, he found himself looking at her blankly before his brows rose and his mind was finally able to piece together that she wanted nothing from him. "Oh. Yes, yes -- that is, that is fine," he said and began to clear his desk.

Her smile grew and she suppressed a chuckle. "My driver is waiting outside. Will you escort me?"

"Of course." Viktor stood and locked his journal in a drawer. "It would be my pleasure."

It was an odd feeling to be seen, even in his rawest state. An observer being observed. If what others said about him was true, if he were a wallflower -- someone who grew on a vine, coiled ever on the outside of recognition and praise -- he found himself neither plucked, nor planted elsewhere, for all others to see and watch and gawk.

Instead, he thought, as he held out his arm for Anya to take, he considered that another vine had found its way beside him. That the blooms and blossoms of another flower had coiled next to this place. Someone else who observed, someone else who listened and understood.

He thought it a precious gift.

[loveabledoll]

Darling Wife .ᐟ

Viktor x Fem! Reader

In which, Viktor has a sweet wife that, weirdly enough, no one really knew about.

a/n: hi divas! Erm this is my first time writing for Viktor so I'm sorry if he sounds out of character.

━━━━⊱⋆���━━━━

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

"Viktor? What is that on your finger?" Jayce inquired, suddenly appearing behind Viktor and peering curiously over his shoulder. Viktor felt a knot form in his stomach as he glanced down at his hand, where a gleaming wedding band rested snugly on his finger. He cursed under his breath, realizing he had meant to remove it but had completely forgotten in the whirlwind of his work.

"Just a ring," Viktor replied evasively, casting a quick look back at Jayce while clicking his tongue in annoyance. Jayce, however, was undeterred. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest, a teasing smirk forming on his lips. "Isn’t that the same finger where wedding rings typically go?" he challenged, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. "Don’t tell me you actually have a wife?"

Viktor maintained his silence, his heart racing in response to Jayce’s playful interrogation. "Even if I did, I wouldn't share that information with you," he said tersely, redirecting his attention back to the Hextech gemstone in front of him, his mind racing as he tried to refocus on his work.

Jayce, still leaning casually against the desk, raised his eyebrow further, the smirk on his face beginning to fade away. He studied Viktor’s expression closely, a frown of confusion.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

“Viktor has a wife? That’s just absurd,” Mel declared, waving her hand dismissively as if to brush away the very notion. 

“No, I swear! He’s actually wearing a wedding ring. When I asked him about it, he responded with, ‘Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you,’” Jayce insisted, leaning closer to Mel's desk, his hands planted firmly on the surface.

Mel rolled her eyes in disbelief, leaning back in her chair and letting her hands fall into her lap. “Who on Earth would marry Viktor?” she whispered, her curiosity piqued as she leaned forward slightly, her expression a mix of intrigue and skepticism. “No offense, but…” she trailed off, momentarily glancing away, her thoughts clearly racing.

Jayce sighed, exasperated. “I mean, it’s not the best image, is it?” he muttered, shrugging as he contemplated the idea. His mind seemed to wander as he contemplated the strange pairing. “Plus, why do you even care?” Mel asked, raising an eyebrow at him, a hint of playful challenge in her voice. “Because I want to know what she looks like!” he responded with a hint of frustration, glancing off to the side, and groaning.

Mel pondered for a moment, her brow furrowing. “Even if he did have a wife, wouldn’t she be here at the Academia with him?” she pointed out, her curiosity beginning to overshadow her previous skepticism. “That’s exactly what I’m saying!” Jayce exclaimed, running his fingers through his hair in agitation. “It doesn’t add up!”

With a sigh, Mel straightened up, her expression turning serious. “Look, I have much bigger problems to deal with than figuring out who Viktor is married to,” she stated firmly.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

"When do you think he sees his wife?" Mel asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she peeked around the corner of the dimly lit hallway. The soft glow of fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting shadows on the walls of the Academia. Jayce followed her gaze, cautiously poking his head out to get a better look.

"Hmm... maybe when he isn’t buried under a mountain of work," Jayce mused, tilting his head and furrowing his brow in thought. His dark hair fell slightly over his forehead, and he swept it back with a casual motion. Mel, with an exasperated huff, rolled her eyes dramatically. 

"You should know this! You’re his partner, for crying out loud," she murmured, her tone tinged with disbelief as she crossed her arms. Jayce's expression shifted to one of sheepishness, his cheeks flushing slightly as he glanced away, avoiding her accusatory gaze.

"But I leave before him. I'm already gone by the time he usually starts his day. And when I come back to the lab, it’s always just him—working away, lost in his experiments," Jayce replied, his shoulders lifting in a shrug that conveyed both confusion and resignation. He could sense Mel's frustration, but the truth was, Viktor’s work schedule was a puzzle he had yet to solve.

Mel sighed heavily, her brow knitting together in thought. "How do you not know… never mind," she grumbled, her voice trailing off as she turned her attention back to Viktor, who was at that moment preparing to leave. 

"Shhh!" Jayce hissed urgently, his eyes widening as he quickly placed a hand over Mel's mouth, the sound echoing loudly in the stillness. They both watched in silence as Viktor slowly began to rise, gripping his crutch tightly under his arm while gathering his belongings with meticulous care. He seemed unaware of the two pairs of eyes on him, lost in his own world.

Viktor gripped his documents as he walked down the hallway, his eyes narrowed. He made his way down to the back of the Academia, opening a door. Jayce and Mel looking out the window from the other story. "The hell is he doing?" Jayce muttered under his breath. "Look," Mel said, spotting you not too far in the distance. "Is that his wife?" Jayce whispered.

"Viktor." You spoke up, smiling when you saw him. You stood up from the bench you were sitting at. Viktor eagerly wobbled over to you. "I've been waiting." You teased lightly, taking the documents from his hand and placing them down on the bench. Viktor could only stare at you. He hadn't seen you in a while. But he'd never say that he missed you. "How are you doing?" You asked gently, guiding him to sit down, placing his crutch aside. "I've been...well," Viktor said plainly. "I could be better." He muttered, glancing off to the side. You nodded, sitting beside him. You glanced down at his hand, raising an eyebrow. "You wore your wedding ring?" You asked, a small smile forming on your face. Viktor's cheeks warmed a bit, sighing. "I meant to take it off." He grumbled as his fingers ran over the wedding band. "I'm glad you wore it. It suits you." You giggled lightly, placing your hand over his.

Meanwhile, with Jayce and Mel, they could only stare in shock. "Of course, he has a pretty wife too!" Jayce groaned as he shook his head. "Of course," Mel muttered as she sweat drops. "Who knew she was so darling?"

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

[websterss]

CLAGGOR

ONESHOTS: ‣ Coming soon

EKKO

ONESHOTS: ‣ Coming soon

JAYCE TALIS

ONESHOTS: ‣ Coming soon

‣ BACK TO: MASTERLISTS

[writerbugg]

𝕭𝖚𝖗𝖓𝖊𝖉

Yan. Viktor x Reader

Word Count - 9.3K

Some notes. This story should NOT be romanticized, this is one of my darker stories so please read the warning.

The timeline of this oneshot is a bit distortated, I'm spreading some of the events out a bit farthen then they happedn in the og storyline.

The reader is mid-twenties (25-26) in this so there's around a 5 year age difference.

!!Warnings!! - Yan. behavior, Mentor and Apprentice Relationship, OOC, Smoking, Violence, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Unwanted Physical Touch, Guilt-tripping, Panic attack, Mentions of Blood, Injury

Pt.2 (Feat. Yan Jayce) Coming soon...

━━━━━╝✹╚━━━━━

And the world screams,

'Kiss me, Sun of God.'

━━━━━╗✹╔━━━━━

Your breath fogs the window as you rest your head against it. The sun hasn’t risen, yet sleep eludes you. Outside, the world is a mix of cold and silence, but your mind churns ceaselessly.

Three years since you began your apprenticeship under Jayce. In that time, Hextech has advanced beyond anything you could have dreamed.

Piltover has become the heart of progress, its Hexgates connecting nations, "The Center of Trade and Evolution," as Mel once called it.

Yet, for all its brilliance, Hextech remains a paradox to you—a marvel you can admire but never fully understand, much less touch.

Your gaze drifts to the blue orb resting beside you, its pulsing aura whispering a melody you can’t quite discern. Hesitantly, you reach for it, your fingers twitching as the air around the gemstone hums with energy.

You barely graze the pristine blue gem before a sharp jolt shoots through your fingers.

You yank your hand back with a hiss, cradling it to your chest. Blowing on your fingertips does little to soothe the sharp, lingering sting. An exasperated sigh escapes you as you look down at your slightly blistered fingers. This result was expected but still maddening.

For reasons you could not understand, touching Hextech directly always left you burned.

“No progress, hmm?”

The clicking of a cane echoes behind you. Panic flickers across your face as you quickly tuck your hand behind your back and turn around, but it’s too late.

Looking up, you’re met with the unimpressed stare of your mentor’s lab partner.

A nervous chuckle escapes as your cheeks flush with shame. Viktor hobbles closer, stopping in front of you. With a pointed expression, he silently gestures for your hand.

Reluctantly, you reveal your hand from behind your back. Viktor takes it carefully, his touch firm but gentle as his eyes trace the small burns along your fingers.

“You know,” Viktor begins, “it seems counter-intuitive for Jayce to appoint the one person in Piltover incapable of safely handling the Hexcore as his apprentice.”

He presses lightly on one of the burns, making you wince and yank your hand back. You glare at him, but he ignores it.

“Why are you up so early?” he asks. “And meddling with Hextech alone? Jayce has told you many times—it’s reckless, given your condition.”

You shrug, offering no real explanation. The ambiguity earns you a disapproving look, though you catch a glimmer of amusement in Viktor’s expression.

“Jayce is rubbing off on you,” he mutters. “Both of you are hardheaded to a fault.”

Viktor turns and gestures for you to follow him. You comply, trailing him to his cluttered desk. Notes are scattered everywhere, buried under odd trinkets and prototypes.

Reaching over the mess, Viktor grabs a small ceramic jar. Carefully, he removes its glass lid, revealing a clear green liquid swirling inside. Dipping a piece of cotton into the liquid, Viktor takes your hand again, dabbing the burns with a precision that’s almost meditative.

The burns will heal in a few days, fading as if they were never there. Still, this ritual has become a quiet tradition, a bond between you and Viktor—something unspoken yet meaningful.

The door swings open, shattering the tranquility. You immediately sit up straight, pulling your hand away from Viktor.

Jayce enters, his smile as bright as ever, and your stomach flutters as his gaze meets yours.

“Good morning, you two!” he says cheerfully, earning a grunt from Viktor and a wave from you.

“Today’s the day—Progress Day!” Jayce announces, his excitement contagious. “We’re finally going to showcase everything we’ve been working on.” Even Viktor’s lips twitch into a faint smile.

Jayce crosses the room to retrieve the crystal you had touched earlier, carefully placing it back in its case. “We need to get ready. Heimerdinger will be here any moment.”

He turns to you, pulling out a pair of gloves from his pocket and handing them over. “My mother made these,” he admits. “For the presentation. I need my apprentice up there with me, after all.”

You take the gloves, admiring the craftsmanship. “Wait… you want me on stage?” you ask, startled.

Jayce chuckles. “It’s your last year of apprenticeship, Y/N. You’ve proven yourself time and time again.” He places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “It’s time you made your debut.”

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

“The gemstone is gone.”

❪❂❫

“I have come before you to recommend that we suspend all Hextech operations.”

❪❂❫

“I propose that a new chair be brought forth and that House Talis be elevated to the august body.”

❪❂❫

You lay on the rooftop, staring at the stars above. The events of the day whirl in your mind like a storm. The attack, the stolen gemstone, Jayce’s abrupt decision to shut down Hextech operations without consulting you or Viktor, and his election to the council. It all feels surreal, a cascade of chaos.

“The stars are lovely tonight, no?”

The sudden voice draws your attention. Viktor stands nearby, his gaze fixed on the heavens. Though calm, his posture betrays exhaustion.

He sits beside you, gesturing toward the horizon. “Do you see them? The lights of the Undercity.”

You nod as faint glimmers come into view. “You’re from the Undercity, right?” you ask softly.

Viktor inclines his head. “And that’s why you want to use Hextech,” you continue, “to help them.”

“Yes,” he says, conviction threading through his voice. “I wish to end the suffering of the Undercity. To use our technology to evolve humanity—beyond its limits.”

You place a hand on his shoulder. He stiffens at first but relaxes as your words cut through the quiet.

“Your dream is beautiful, Viktor,” you say, admiration clear in your voice. “And I can’t wait to see you and Jayce bring it to life.”

His golden eyes linger on the Undercity before flickering to you. “You believe in us,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “In me.”

“Of course I do,” you reply without hesitation. “You see possibilities where others see obstacles. How could I not believe in that?”

A rare softness touches his gaze. “Thank you,” he says earnestly. “Your faith… it means more to me than I often let on.”

The silence that follows is comfortable, the two of you watching the stars and the faint lights of the Undercity. Yet, a shadow passes over Viktor’s expression. His fingers tighten around his cane, his thoughts veiled but heavy.

“The night grows late,” he says finally. “We should rest. Tomorrow will bring more challenges.”

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

You stood silently behind Jayce, your gaze darting between him and Viktor as the tension between them thickened.

"This is a misuse of our work," Viktor muttered, eyes fixed on the enforcers tinkering with the Hexgate. His voice carried the sharp edge of frustration. "What happened to our promise to improve lives? To help those in the Undercity?"

Jayce let out a sharp breath, shaking his head dismissively. "I’m a Councilor now, Viktor," he replied, his tone clipped. "My priority is ensuring the Hexgates are secure. That has to come first." He turned to you, raising an eyebrow. "You understand, don’t you?"

Caught off guard, you hesitated, shifting your weight. "Maybe you should’ve... included Viktor in your plans," you murmured carefully. "You know, since you’re supposed to be partners."

Jayce scoffed lightly, his humor paper-thin. "Aren’t you supposed to be my apprentice?" he quipped, offering you a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Across from him, Viktor gave you a small, almost imperceptible nod. A flicker of genuine gratitude. You returned it with a faint smile before Jayce’s attention shifted elsewhere.

Marcus entered the room, and Jayce moved to speak with him, leaving you and Viktor by the railing.

"I just don’t understand," Viktor murmured as you leaned on the edge beside him. "This should be all the more reason to push our research further. The Undercity needs us, and the longer we ignore them, the angrier they’ll grow."

His gaze flicked to your hands, lingering briefly on the smooth skin where blisters had once marred the surface.

"...Thank you," he whispered, his voice soft but sincere. "At least you understand my frustrations better than Jayce does."

You shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck. The quiet critique of your mentor made your stomach knot, but you kept silent. It wasn’t your place to interfere in the growing rift between them.

"—Have you made any progress on the stolen Gemstone?" Jayce's voice cut through your thoughts, snapping your focus back to him.

You noted the strain in his posture, the faint shadows under his eyes. He looked overwhelmed, and a pang of sympathy tugged at your chest. His new role was a heavy burden, but selfishly, you wondered how it might affect your time together. Would he place your training on hold, as he had seemingly done with Hextech?

The thought left a sour taste in your mouth.

Shaking it off, you turned to Viktor, who had gone quiet. His gaze was fixed on the Hexcore, its faint glow reflected in his eyes. There was a distant, almost hypnotized look in his expression.

A chill crept up your spine.

"Viktor?" you called softly, stepping closer. Your heart jolted as you noticed the blood trickling from his nose.

"Viktor!" You grabbed his shoulder instinctively. The touch startled him, and he tensed briefly before relaxing as he recognized you.

“…I’m fine," he muttered, brushing your hand away with a quiet sigh.

Jayce, alerted by the commotion, hurried over. His eyes darted between you and Viktor, narrowing when he saw the blood.

“Viktor, are you all right?” he asked, placing a firm hand on Viktor’s shoulder. The gesture forced you to step back, though you remained close.

“It’s... just a headache," Viktor replied tersely, shrugging off Jayce's hand. "I need to get back to the lab."

He turned away, cane tapping against the floor in an uneven rhythm. Halfway to the exit, he hesitated and glanced over his shoulder, gesturing for you to follow.

You cast a quick, uncertain look at Jayce, who stayed rooted in place, his gaze troubled.

After a brief hesitation, you complied, following Viktor into the corridor.

The walk to the lab was steeped in silence, tension radiating from Viktor with every brisk step. His jaw was set, his frustration evident in the stiff line of his posture.

Suddenly, he stumbled, his cane skidding against the floor. You lunged forward just in time to catch him as he collapsed against the wall, coughing violently.

"Viktor," you murmured, adjusting to support his weight as he leaned heavily on you. His breaths came in labored gasps, but he didn’t resist your help.

"Maybe we should call it a night," you suggested gently. "You’re not well. I could make you some soup—tomato basil, maybe?" You offered a tentative smile. "It’s the only thing I can cook without setting a stove on fire."

Viktor didn’t respond, his focus elsewhere as you guided him to the lab. Once there, you settled him into a chair and pulled up one beside him.

For a moment, the quiet hum of machinery filled the air.

"When I lived in the Undercity," Viktor began suddenly, his voice subdued, "I knew a man—a teacher of sorts. He once told me that loneliness was the burden of a gifted mind." He turned to you, his expression contemplative. "Do you ever feel that? The isolation, simply because you see the world differently?"

You considered his words, offering a faint smile. "Honestly? No. My parents were... eccentric, to say the least. Borderline mad scientists, but they understood me. Every phase, every crazy idea—I always had them."

Your smile softened. "And now, you have me. And Jayce. Even if we don’t always agree, we’re here for you, Viktor. Right behind you. Always."

His lips curved into a faint, bittersweet smile, though his eyes flickered briefly toward the Hexcore.

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

Hours later, you had gone home, leaving Viktor alone in the lab to finish working on the Hexcore. The day’s events weighed heavily on him, the anger and disappointment still clinging to the air like smoke. His hands ran through his hair in frustration.

Sending you home had felt like the right decision at the time, but now that he was alone, a pang of creeping guilt settled over him. He hated that you were caught in the middle of his and Jayce’s ongoing conflict, forced to navigate between them because of your apprenticeship.

Your apprenticeship under Jayce.

The sudden acknowledgment twisted sharply in Viktor's chest. You were bound to Jayce—the Council’s rising star, Piltover’s golden boy. Jayce, who’d leaped into his new role without considering the ripple effects on those tethered to his orbit. On you. On your work. On your future.

If Viktor were your mentor—

He cut the thought off sharply, jaw tightening. It wasn’t his place. But the resentment gnawed at him, clawing at the edges of his resolve. You deserved a mentor who saw your potential, not someone too blinded by his own ambitions to nurture it.

Viktor’s eyes flickered to the porcelain pot sitting on his desk.

Perhaps…

The Hexcore hummed faintly, its glow pulsating in uneven rhythms. Viktor rose, but a sudden wave of nausea pulled him back, his knees buckling as he gripped the desk for support. The fit came hard and fast, wracking his body until crimson droplets sprinkled onto the scattered notes on his desk.

The air thickened, whispers curling like smog around him. His blurred gaze fell to the Hexcore, now spinning in erratic spirals, its light carving shadows that seemed to breathe.

A promise hummed through the static—a tantalizing whisper of hope, of salvation, of Evolution.

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

It was early morning when you got the news.

Your breath was labored as you raced past Jayce who had just exited Viktor's room, not sparing him a single glance.

“Viktor!” Your voice jolts the frail man awake as you burst into the room.

“I came as soon as I heard,” you murmur, setting your bags on the chair beside him and diving into them. “I stopped by a few places to pick up things I thought you might need—”

Your words tumble over each other as you pull out a mismatched assortment of elixirs, fresh food, and little trinkets. You barely notice his faint, amused smile as he watches you, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths.

“You’ve brought half the city,” Viktor rasps, his voice weak but carrying a faint warmth.

You pause, finally meeting his gaze. “I’d bring the whole of Piltover if it meant you’d get better,” you say softly.

His smile lingers, though bittersweet.

You feel tears well in your eyes as you stare at your friend. "...How long?" You whisper shakily.

"...A few months," Viktor answered, his voice quiet.

The words hit like a blow to the stomach. Without thinking, you step closer, wrapping your arms around him. Viktor stiffens at first, surprised, but slowly, he returns the embrace.

You cling to him as sobs wrack your body, your tears soaking into his thin shirt. “I can’t lose you,” you choke out.

For a moment, his hand hesitates, then rests lightly against your back. His voice is a faint murmur, “You won't,” Over your shoulder, he gazes at the sketches of the Hexcore, a stark reminder of what it promised him.

The tools are in his grasp now.

The faint smile on his lips remains, but its sweetness curdles, twisting into something spoiled, something unlike himself. His grip tightens—almost imperceptibly—as if tethering himself to you.

"I haven't given up yet,"

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

“You should be with them.”

Jayce glances up at Mel, her calm expression a contrast to the weight of his own guilt. She’s right, as usual. Viktor was his partner. You were his apprentice. He should be with you, especially after this morning.

That look on your face this morning... The desperation, the panic. He’d never seen you so raw, so vulnerable, and it made him feel helpless. Useless.

Mel’s hand moves gently through his hair as she speaks, breaking the quiet. “How is Mx. L/N? I haven’t seen much of them lately.”

Jayce stiffens, glancing away. “They’re fine, I think—why?”

Mel shrugs, her tone nonchalant but her gaze sharp. “No reason, just an observation. They seem... distant. Did something happen?”

Jayce falters. Had something happened? You and he didn't talk as frequently as before. He searches his memory but finds only fragments—moments where your attention seemed elsewhere, your words clipped.

“I don’t know,” he admits. A quiet befalls the two of them, only a soft breeze interrupting the silence.

“Maybe I... should be there more. For both of them.”

Mel hums thoughtfully, her fingers stilling. “Perhaps you should. Before it’s too late.”

[OML I LOVE MEL KJENFKJSEDF]

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

Jayce hesitated at the door, his hand hovering over the knob. The dim light spilling from under Viktor’s door made his stomach twist. He knew he should have come sooner.

The door creaked softly as he pushed it open, revealing Viktor sitting upright in bed, a sketchpad balanced on his lap. You were slumped in a chair beside him, fast asleep, your face turned toward him with exhaustion etched in every line. Viktor’s hand idly brushed through your hair, his movements slow, almost reverent.

“Jayce,” Viktor greeted, his voice hoarse but carrying that sharp, sardonic edge. “Burning the midnight oil, I see.”

Jayce stepped into the room, his gaze flickering between you and Viktor. “I came to check on you,” he said after a beat. “On both of you.”

“How thoughtful,” Viktor murmured, though there was no mistaking the faint sting beneath his words.

Jayce’s chest tightened. “I didn’t know it was this bad,” he admitted. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Viktor’s smile was razor-thin. “And what would you have done, Jayce? You’ve been occupied. The Council, your reputation, your ambitions—so many pressing matters. Where would I fit?”

The words struck like a blow, and Jayce flinched. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” Viktor’s voice softened, a chilling calm threading through his words. “When was the last time you worked with us in the lab? When did you last look at them and see what this has cost?”

Jayce’s gaze fell to you, the subtle furrow in your brow even in sleep telling him everything he needed to know.

“They’re loyal,” Viktor continued, his hand stilling briefly in your hair. “More than I deserve, perhaps. Certainly more than you’ve earned.”

“Viktor…” Jayce’s voice cracked under the weight of guilt.

“They need someone who sees them. Not someone torn between a dozen different obligations.” Viktor’s hand resumed its slow, deliberate motion, his gaze settling back on Jayce with unsettling clarity. “Loyalty has its limits, after all, and it frays under neglect.”

Jayce opened his mouth, searching for a rebuttal, but found none. Instead, he swallowed the lump in his throat and turned toward the door.

As it clicked shut behind him, Viktor glanced toward the Hexcore sketches. His fingers curled through your hair as he murmured, “You’ll see. Progress waits for no one.”

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

Jayce stared at the envelope in his hands. It felt heavier than any paper had the right to be. He had agonized over this decision for days, and yet it still felt like a betrayal.

When he opens the door, the soft clink of tools fills the air. You’re at the workbench, hunched over a half-assembled gadget. The sight reminds him of all the times he would stand over your shoulder and critique you.

“Hey,” he calls gently, but the sound still makes you jump.

You turned, your expression softening into a smile—until you saw the look on his face.

“Jayce?” you asked, worry lacing your tone. “What’s wrong?”

He hesitates. Only for a moment, but still, it felt like an eternity.

“I need to talk to you,” He held out the envelope, his hand trembling slightly. “...about your apprenticeship.”

Your eyes darted to the envelope before back to him. “What about it?”

He hesitated, then forced the words out. “I— Viktor and I thought this might be... better for you.”

You take the envelope, your fingers brushing his briefly. The contact sends a brief flicker of warmth through you, but it’s quickly extinguished by the growing knot in your stomach.

“What is this?” you ask, your voice quieter now.

Jayce rubs the back of his neck, his eyes darting anywhere but your face. “It’s... a transfer of mentorship. To Viktor. He’ll take over as your mentor from now on.”

The silence in the room was deafening.

“It’s for the best,” Jayce said quickly as if the words might soften the blow. “Viktor can give you the attention you nee—”

“Why?” The question escapes before you can stop it, laced with disbelief and hurt. “Did I... do something wrong?”

Jayce winces, shaking his head, “No, it’s not that. You’ve been incredible, really. It’s just Viktor… He’s better suited for this.”

“Better suited?” you repeat, your voice cracking.

“That’s not what I meant." He defended, stepping forward, but you recoiled, the distance between you widening in more ways than one."You deserve someone who can focus on you, who can... help you grow. And with everything going on, I just—”

“You just what?” Your grip tightens on the papers, your heart pounding in your chest. “You don’t want to be my mentor anymore?”

Jayce clenches his fist, but doesn't say anything, unable to look you in the eye.

“I thought...” Your voice wavers as you look down at the transfer forms. “I thought I mattered to you. That this... this partnership mattered.”

“You do,” Jayce says quickly, stepping closer, his hands hovering as if he wants to reach out but can't. “You matter, I promise. This isn’t about that, it’s about what’s best for you.”

“Then why does it feel like you're only doing what's best for you?”

The question hangs in the air, and Jayce flinches as if struck.

Clutching the papers to your chest, you quickly begin cleaning up your station. “Fine,” you whisper, your voice trembling as you jam your now broken gadget into a random drawer. “If this is what you think is best, then, fine.”

Turning away, you leave Jayce standing there, his fists clenching at his sides. The door closes softly behind you, but the weight of what just happened lingers in the room, heavy and suffocating.

Jayce sinks into the nearest chair, burying his face in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he whispers to the empty air, though he knows the words won’t reach you.

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

The lighter flicks in your hand, the flame sparking briefly before you bring it to the cigarette perched between your lips.

The faint burn in your throat as you inhale almost distracts you from the knot tightening in your stomach, replaying the conversation in your mind.

Leaning against the railing, you hold the cigarette loosely between your fingers, smoke curling upward in thin, fading wisps that vanish into the night. Your chest tightens, your gaze slipping to the envelope sitting beside you on the ledge.

You thought you mattered to him.

The sting of rejection mingles with the acrid sting of smoke, and your eyes water. You tell yourself it’s the cigarette.

You take another drag, longer this time, the embers flaring faintly against the darkness.

“Am I interrupting?”

The voice cuts through the stillness, accented and soft. You startle, choking on the inhale, coughing as you fumble to regain composure.

Turning, you find Viktor standing a few feet away, a faint smile teasing the edges of his lips as he watches you struggle.

“Geez,” you rasp, rubbing your throat. “Knocking’s a thing, you know.”

He steps closer, his gait deliberate, his eyes flickering to the cigarette now on the ground. “You smoke?” he asks, voice tinged with curiosity.

“Not often,” you mutter, shifting uncomfortably. “Old habits and all.”

Viktor hums, leaning on the railing beside you. The air between you feels heavier than the night itself. “I heard what happened,” he says, his tone subdued, “I’m sorry.” His hand finds your shoulder, the touch hesitant but grounding.

“You don’t have to apologize,” you reply, toeing the discarded cigarette. “It’s not your fault.”

His hand lingers for a moment before withdrawing. “Perhaps not. But I cannot ignore the role I’ve played in this... shift.”

A bitter laugh escapes you. “Shift. That’s one way to put it.” Your fingers tighten on the railing, the city’s lights blurring slightly as you focus on the ache twisting in your chest. “I don’t even know what I did wrong.”

“You did nothing wrong,” Viktor says firmly, his voice uncharacteristically sharp. It draws your gaze to him. “Jayce’s decision was misguided. Shortsighted.”

His conviction catches you off guard. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Viktor says, his voice softening. “He is distracted, burdened by expectations he barely understands himself. He likely believed this was best for you, but in doing so, he failed to see how much he’s hurt you.”

The words settle heavily. “Maybe,” you murmur, “but it still feels like he gave up on me.”

Viktor’s expression darkens, his hands curling faintly at his sides. “Jayce does not understand the depth of loyalty you’ve shown him. Nor the potential you hold. It is his failing, not yours.”

You swallow thickly, his words cutting through the lingering haze of doubt. “I just... I thought I mattered to him. As a mentor, as a...” You trail off, the word left unspoken, though it hangs in the air.

Silence stretches between you, filled only by the hum of the city below. Viktor’s voice, when it comes again, is quieter but no less steady. “You still matter. To me, at least.”

Your head lifts, his words sinking in. He meets your gaze, his golden eyes steady and sincere. “You are... remarkable,” he continues. “Your dedication and ingenuity should be nurtured, not cast aside.”

Heat creeps to your cheeks, and you glance away, unsure how to respond. “Thanks,” you say softly, the word inadequate but all you can manage.

His lips quirk into a faint smile. He glances at the crumpled cigarette. “Perhaps next time, a cup of tea instead?”

You laugh quietly. “Yeah, maybe.”

With a slight nod, Viktor steps back, retreating into the building, leaving you alone once more. The crisp night air fills your lungs as you take a deep breath.

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

You’re standing beside Viktor, the air in the lab thick with tension. Heimerdinger’s voice carries a weight you haven’t heard before as he stares at the glowing Hexcore. “What is that?” he asks, his tone grim.

Viktor’s lips twitch into a smile, seemingly oblivious to the Yordle’s concern. “I call it the Hexcore,” he says. His golden gaze flickers to the device, its pulsing glow reflected in his eyes. “An adaptive rune matrix. Hextech that evolves.”

The Hexcore radiates a heat that makes your skin prickle, like standing too close to an open flame. The sensation grows, an almost oppressive wave of intensity washing over you.

“It’s groundbreaking,” Jayce adds, stepping closer, his voice animated. His words blur, drowned out by the dryness in your throat and the heat clawing at your senses.

The room wavers, the edges of your vision distorting. Viktor’s voice cuts through the haze. “You alright?” he asks, concern threading through his words. His gaze sharpens, catching the sheen of sweat on your brow.

“Fine,” you manage, your voice hoarse. “Just… not used to this.” You force a weak smile, but his eyes linger, unconvinced.

Before he can press further, Heimerdinger speaks again, his tone firm. “You must destroy it.”

Viktor’s head snaps toward him, disbelief flashing across his features. “What?” he asks, his voice almost breathless.

The Yordle’s expression hardens. “If ever you’ve trusted my guidance, trust me now. I’ve seen nations crumble from a single spark, and this—this is no different.”

Jayce moves to block Heimerdinger’s advance. “No. I won’t let you,” he states firmly, his stance unyielding.

The Hexcore pulses faintly, its glow intensifying for a moment. You step back instinctively, the heat becoming almost unbearable.

Heimerdinger’s gaze shifts to Viktor, his voice softening. “You’ve changed, Viktor. What have you done?”

Viktor hesitates, his focus flickering between the Yordle and the Hexcore. “I… I don’t understand.”

Heimerdinger’s eyes narrow, his voice heavy with warning. “That thing must be destroyed.”

The Hexcore flares again, forcing you to take another step back. Jayce and Heimerdinger exchange heated words, their voices rising over each other. Viktor remains silent, his gaze fixed on the device, distant, almost entranced.

As the argument crescendos, Heimerdinger turns to leave, pausing briefly beside you. “Trust your instincts,” he says, his voice low but firm. “And remember, sometimes your abilities are all you have. Don’t let this be your tragedy.”

His words linger as he departs, leaving a strange tension in his wake. You stay stuck in your spot, not listening entirely to Viktor and Jayce’s hushed conversation.

Viktor’s voice pulls you back. “I want you to come with me, to Zaun,” he says, his tone decisive, Jayce had already left the room, leaving just the two of you. His hand rests lightly on your shoulder, the touch steady despite the faint prickling heat. “It will be... enlightening.”

Your eyes widen at the offer. “To Zaun?” you ask cautiously. “Does Jayce—”

“Jayce isn’t your mentor,” Viktor interrupts, his tone brooking no argument. “I am. Prepare yourself. We leave tonight.”

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

“I understand now,” Viktor said, his voice steady as he stepped closer to the shadowy figure of his old mentor, Singed. The faint flicker of light from a nearby apparatus illuminated his sharp features. “And I need your help.”

Singed didn’t look up immediately, his hands busy calibrating a device on his cluttered workbench. “And you came alone?” he asked, his tone calm, though a tinge of curiosity threaded through it.

Viktor shook his head. “No. My apprentice waits outside.”

Beyond the lab’s cracked door, you leaned against a ruined wall, exhaling a long-suffering sigh. The stale, chemical-laden air was getting to you, but boredom was the real killer. You kicked a pebble at your feet, muttering, “Some ‘important errand’ this is...”

“An apprentice?” Singed finally turned toward Viktor, his pale eyes narrowing with intrigue. “You’ve grown much, my boy. Why not bring them inside?”

Viktor’s gaze swept over the lab, lingering on the glass capsule at the far end. Inside, the still form of Rio floated, suspended in eerie silence. “They’ll... need time,” he replied, a faint unease creeping into his voice. “Like I did. I don’t want to rush things.”

Singed shrugged, his movements deliberate as he set aside his tools. “What is it you’ve brought to me?” he asked, smoothly shifting the conversation.

Viktor stepped forward, handing over a stack of meticulously prepared notes and a sealed vial. Singed accepted them, scanning the pages with practiced efficiency. “Fascinating,” he murmured. “Your work has matured, Viktor. I would very much like to see the device—this Hexcore.”

Viktor tensed, his gaze flickering back to Rio’s capsule. “That... may be difficult to arrange,” he admitted.

Singed’s expression didn’t change, but there was a weight to his silence. Viktor sighed, stepping closer to the capsule, his voice low with frustration. “I’ve tried every combination of runes. Adjustments. Iterations. Yet the result is always the same: the subject withers. It rots.”

Singed’s brow furrowed slightly, his hands resting on the workbench. “Perhaps,” he said slowly, “the fault does not lie with your calculations.”

Viktor’s head snapped toward him. “Then where?”

“With your subjects.” Singed reached for a vial of shimmering, violet liquid, its glow cutting through the dimness. “Nature has made us intolerant to change. Fortunately,” he added, holding the vial aloft, “we have the capacity to change our nature.”

Viktor stared at the vial, unease rippling through him as he took a half-step back. “And this is... shimmer?”

“A variant,” Singed confirmed, walking toward him with measured steps. “It will provide everything one needs to survive a violent transition.”

The vial’s glow reflected in Viktor’s eyes as he hesitated. The liquid pulsed faintly, almost as if it were alive. His cure. His key to evolution, so close he could almost feel its weight in his hand.

“I must warn you,” Singed said, his voice quiet yet deliberate. “If you take this path, they will despise you. Love and legacy—these are sacrifices we make for progress.”

Viktor’s fingers hovered over the vial, his breath shallow. “They will understand,” he said finally, his voice a whisper. “They always have.”

His hand closed around the vial, the glass warm against his palm. For a moment, he studied it, the shimmer within swirling as if in anticipation. He slipped it into his pocket with a flicker of resolve.

“And if they don’t,” he added softly, more to himself than to Singed, “then I will teach them to.”

Without another word, Viktor turned and strode out of the lab. The faint clinking of the vial echoed in his pocket as he stepped into the ruins, the cold air biting at his skin. His eyes quickly scanned the area, finding you crouched by a crumbled wall, lazily tossing rocks into a shallow stream.

He approached and tapped your shoulder, drawing a startled yelp from you. Spinning around, you glared at him, hand pressed to your chest. “Seriously? Can you not?”

“It’s time to go,” Viktor said, his tone clipped, brooking no argument. “I have what I came for.”

You scrambled to your feet, brushing dust off your clothes. "Uh— yeah, right— sorry," you muttered, falling into step behind him.

As you trailed after him, curiosity got the better of you. “Soo... how’d it go?”

Viktor’s stride didn’t falter. “It went... well,” he replied evenly. “I believe I’ve found a solution.”

Your face lit up with excitement. “Wait, really? Does that mean—”

“Not here,” Viktor interrupted sharply, his voice low as his gaze darted to the shadows. “It’s not safe.”

Chastened, you nodded, your excitement dimming as silence fell between you.

The city’s bustle greeted you as you passed into a more crowded district, its vibrancy pulling you from your thoughts. The chaotic energy of Zaun seemed to pulse with life, unlike anything you’d seen before.

“Wow,” you murmured, marveling at the neon-lit chaos. “This is the Undercity?”

Viktor slowed slightly, his expression softening at your wonder. “Yes. It may lack the polish of Piltover, but it is... alive in ways they cannot comprehend.”

You nodded, your gaze darting between the glowing lights and towering structures. “It’s nothing like the stories. It’s... beautiful.”

A faint smile touched Viktor’s lips. “Zaun thrives despite the shadows it’s cast into. Ingenuity flourishes here, even amidst adversity.”

You glanced at him, a grin tugging at your lips. “You’ve got stories about growing up here, don’t you?”

He chuckled quietly. “Zaun teaches resilience, but it is not a kind teacher. Every invention, every triumph—it was survival, not progress.”

“Explains a lot about you,” you teased lightly.

He arched a brow. “Oh? And what does that mean?”

You shrugged, smirking. “You’re like... the world’s most intense puzzle. But lately, I think I’m finally starting to figure you out.”

He chuckled again, a rare warmth in his voice. “And you, my apprentice, remain delightfully open-minded.”

The two of you shared a quiet smile before continuing your journey, the glow of Zaun fading as Progress Bridge loomed ahead.

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

Jayce walks through the smog on the bridge, glancing over the aftermath of last night's attack and the protests. A frown prints itself on his face as he spots two familiar figures near the edge of the bridge.

Anger bubbles just beneath the surface, but he forces his jaw tight, trying to leash it. As he approaches, his boots scrape against the grit of the stone. Viktor is the first to notice him.

“Jayce?” Viktor’s voice is tinged with confusion, his brows knitting together as he gestures toward the blockade. “What is this?”

You sit beside Viktor, a gnawing dread coiling in your stomach. From Jayce's expression, you knew you were in trouble.

Jayce’s voice is low, but it cuts like glass. “Do you two have any idea how this looks?” He glares at Viktor, his words clipped and venomous. “I order a blockade, and my partner violates it, dragging along my- his apprentice? Are you out of your mind?”

Viktor straightens, the weariness in his frame offset by the defensiveness in his voice. “You ordered this?” His tone is incredulous, his gaze searching Jayce’s face. “Why?”

Jayce’s voice rises a bit as he struggles to remain calm. “There are people down there who seem hell-bent on destroying us. And you—” Jayce turned his fiery gaze towards you, “—you just went along with this? Knowing how dangerous it is? How reckless?”

Viktor’s lips press into a thin line as he exhales, shaking his head. “I was consulting a friend about our quandary,” he says, “I brought Y/n along because I’m their mentor, and I thought it’d be a good teaching opportunity.” his words deliberate and firm. “I told you I knew someone.”

Jayce’s eyes widened in disbelief, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You didn’t tell me they were from the Undercity.”

Viktor’s gaze sharpened, a flicker of something dark passing through his eyes. “What difference does that make?” he asked, his voice quiet but loaded.

“They’re dangerous!” Jayce hissed.

The words hang in the air, as Viktor’s gaze hardens, glaring into the other man, “I’m from the Undercity.”

Jayce's expression melts, a donning look mixed with regret appearing on his face. “Viktor, I didn’t mean—” He reached out, but Viktor batted his hand away, leaning on his cane as he stood.

Sighing, Jayce lowers his hand, "Sorry... Was your friends able to help?

Viktor pauses, glancing back at Jayce, "No," he answered, “No, he said nature was resistant to this sort of..." His grip on his cane tightens, "tampering."

The silence hung heavy as Viktor turned, his back rigid. You follow closely behind, ignoring the feeling of Jayce's stare on you.

━━━━━━━━

The walk to the lab felt endless, the silence between you thick with unspoken tension.

Once inside, the quiet lingered, broken only by the faint, unsettling hum of the Hexcore. You sat across from Viktor, watching as he wordlessly pulled out a notebook, scribbling away as if nothing had happened.

Your gaze drifted to the two plates of food waiting on the desks—Sky must have brought them earlier. Reaching for one, you broke the silence. “Have you eaten?” you asked softly, though you already knew the answer.

Viktor didn’t look up. “We’ve been occupied,” he murmured, his focus unwavering. “I need to figure out how to…”

He trailed off, and you frowned. Setting your bags down, you approached with one of the plates. “You won’t get far on an empty stomach,” you muttered, setting the food beside him.

His pen paused as his gaze flickered to the plate, then to you. “You care too much,” he said quietly.

“And you care too little,” you counter, leaning back in your chair. “Someone has to make sure you’re taken care of.”

He chuckles dryly, placing down his notebook and pen as he turns to meet your gaze. "I thought you were my apprentice, not my caretaker."

You shrug, "Aren't apprentices supposed to help their mentors? Plus,” you leaned against the desk, “after 3 years of working together, I figured I earned the friend title.”

“Perhaps,” he said, his voice quieter now, his gaze fixed on you. There was an intensity in his eyes that made you falter.

The hum of the Hexcore permeated the atmosphere, a subtle yet resolute drone. It reminded you of flies, their incessant buzzing heralding decay, drawn to what was already doomed. Like a song, featuring a strange, almost living rhythm, curling around your thoughts. You made an effort to ignore it, but the unease it evoked inside of you persisted, a whispered omen through static.

Your gaze stayed locked with Viktor’s, his amber eyes glinting with an intensity that made your chest tighten. For a fleeting moment, you wondered if he heard the hum too— 

“Though,” Viktor murmured, his voice low and measured, “perhaps I view you as something more.”

—or if it had already consumed him.

The quiet stretched, your pulse quickening as you tried to process his words. Then, without warning, he leaned forward—lips brushing yours.

His touch was gentle, careful, but it felt wrong. The room shifted, the walls closing in as the Hexcore’s hum swelled into an unbearable crescendo, like flies buzzing over decay.

Your mind screamed at you to move, to pull away, but shock froze you in place.

You didn’t know what to do, or how to react.

When he finally drew back, the space between you felt impossibly vast and suffocating all at once. Viktor stared, wide-eyed, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d done. You mirrored his expression, stunned.

“I don’t know,” he cuts you off, his voice quiet but strained, like a violin string pulled too tight. He looks down at his hands, now trembling slightly. “I... I shouldn’t have.”

Your chest tightens as the silence between you grows unbearable. Every instinct tells you to say something, to demand an explanation, but words fail you. Instead, you grab your bags and retreat toward the door, the hum of the Hexcore growing louder in the stillness.

Viktor doesn’t move to stop you.

The door clicks shut behind you, and the faint sound feels deafening. Outside the lab, the air is cooler, but it did little to soothe the burning of his touch.

Inside, Viktor sat motionless, staring blankly at the plate of food. His lips pressed into a thin line, the weight of his guilt suffocating. But it wasn’t guilt over the act itself—no, the guilt came from something far worse.

I don’t regret it, the thought whispered like a vulture circling prey.

His gaze drifted to the Hexcore, its ominous glow pulsing faintly in the dim room. “I’m losing myself,” he murmured to the silence.

The Hexcore’s hum deepened, an almost living response, vibrating through the air like whispered agreement.

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

You lean over the sink, droplets of water sliding down your face and dripping from your chin. The coolness of the water clings to your skin, but it does little to wash away the lingering sensation. His touch. His words. The suffocating hum of the Hexcore.

Your hands grip the porcelain edges of the sink, knuckles white, as you stare at your reflection in the mirror. Your reflection betrays you, every ounce of feeling lingering on its face. The towel wrapped around you feels heavy, suffocating, as though it might drag you under.

You don’t know what to feel.

Three years you've worked with him, learned from him. Even when he wasn't technically your mentor.

You admired him.

You owe him so much. The opportunity he gave you, the trust he placed in you. His unrelenting dedication and care, even as his body betrayed him.

The memory of his lips on yours lingers like an oil slick, something you can’t scrub away no matter how hard you try.

That bond felt scorched, twisted by the memory of his lips on yours. The Hexcore’s hum still buzzed in your mind, incessant like flies, circling something already decaying.

You press your palm to your lips as if to smother the burning sensation.

You splash water onto your face again, desperate for clarity, for some release from the sickening tangle of emotions pulling at you from every direction. Disgust coils deep within you, heavy and unrelenting. Disgust with him. Disgust with yourself.

How did it come to this?

Your breaths come in shallow gasps as your mind races. Could you have done something differently? Said something? Stopped him? But the guilt gnaws at you, whispering that perhaps you’d allowed this to happen, that your care had somehow blurred the lines between what was right and what should never have been crossed.

The buzzing from earlier won’t leave your mind, an ever-present phantom in the background of your thoughts. Flies, their relentless hum circling something already rotting.

You press the heels of your palms to your eyes, willing the image away. You want to cry, but the tears won’t come.

Instead, you exhale a shaky breath and straighten, staring at yourself in the mirror once more.

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

"You can't be serious." Viktor seethed at Jayce, "You aren't actually considering using Hextech as a weapon, and against the undercity!?"

The past two days away from the lab weren’t nearly enough. The noise, the tension—it’s relentless. You find yourself yearning for a simpler time, back before the council, before the Hexcore began to feel like a living, breathing entity between you all.

"I can't—right now—I can't deal with this," Jayce sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I have a council meeting in a few hours. Y/n," he turned to you, his voice softening, "Could you go over these tests while I’m gone?"

You nodded, distracted, your eyes briefly locking with his.

Before you could reach for the files, a sharp voice cut through the tension.

"No."

You and Jayce turned, surprised by the sudden interruption. Viktor stood at the edge of the lab, his gaze locked on Jayce with an intensity that chilled you.

"They are no longer your apprentice, Jayce," Viktor continued, his voice rigid. "Any work they receive will be through me. And me only."

Jayce froze, eyes narrowing in frustration, but Viktor didn’t seem to care.

"Fine." Jayce scoffed, shooting Viktor one last glare before exiting the lab, the door slamming shut behind him.

The tension between you and Viktor hung in the air as silence settled in. Viktor turned back to his work, fiddling with some mechanical components. You returned to your notes, the scratching of your pencil filling the void between you.

The stillness was deafening. Only the clinking of Viktor’s tools against metal and the faint hum of the Hexcore filled the space.

"Shit, where—" Viktor muttered under his breath.

You lifted your gaze, curious, but the irritation in his tone was unmistakable.

"Y/n," he called quietly, "Do you think you can find my needle nose pliers?"

You nodded, mumbling a soft "yes" as you rose from your desk.

You glanced around, quickly spotting the pliers resting right next to the glowing Hexcore. Unease settles in you once more as you stare at the Hexcore.

Did it always look like that?

"Y/n?" Viktor's voice cut through your thoughts, forcing you back into reality.

"Oh— uh, found them."

You mutter, going over the the desk to pick them up. The moment your fingers brushed against the tool, the air seemed to crackle.

The Hexcore flared, and before you could pull away, a tendril of magic lashed out, striking your hand.

Pain seared through your palm, sharp and relentless, making you gasp and stumble back. But it was too late.

The Hexcore surged, and agony radiated up your arm like wildfire.

"Y/n!" Viktor's voice was frantic now, his chair scraping sharply against the floor as he rushed to your side.

Your skin sizzled as the glow of the Hexcore intensified.

A yank on your arm forces your attention away from the burn, Viktor grasped your hand tightly, inspecting the burn. It looked... worse than all the other burns you had received.

"You... You should have been more careful," Viktor murmured, his words shaky, but they felt distant, disconnected like they were coming from somewhere far away. His face was pale, his lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at your burned hand.

Slowly, he drags you away from the Hexcore over to his desk. Viktor grabbed a familiar porcelain pot, its surface cracked but still holding strong. He removed the glass lid, the faint scent of herbs wafting into the air as the greenish liquid within shimmered under the lab’s dim light.

For a moment, his hand hovered over the pot, hesitation flickering in his eyes. He dipped a piece of cotton into the liquid, his movements precise, almost mechanical. Then, with a gentleness that felt strangely out of place given everything, he took your injured hand in his.

The burn throbbed as he dabbed the cotton over it, the cool liquid soothing the worst of the sting. His touch was deliberate, almost reverent, as though he were trying to erase the damage through sheer force of will.

“This isn’t permanent,” he said softly, breaking the tense silence. “It will heal in a few days. You’ll hardly remember it.”

You winced as the liquid seeped into the wound, biting your lip to keep from crying out. “I’ve heard that before,” you muttered, your voice tight.

Viktor stilled, his hand pausing over yours. He stared at the burn for a long moment before he spoke again, his voice quieter this time. “Do you remember the first time this happened?”

You didn’t answer immediately, the memory tugging at the edges of your mind. It was years ago now, back when the lab felt like a sanctuary instead of a battlefield. Back when Viktor’s smile held warmth instead of shadows, the Hexcore was just an idea, not a force that seemed to breathe and pulse with its own twisted life.

“I remember,” you said, at last, your tone guarded.

Viktor nodded, his lips curving into something that was almost a smile but didn’t quite make it. “You were shaking. I thought you might never come back.”

You glanced at him, caught off guard by the faint flicker of nostalgia in his voice. “I didn’t want to. Not after that.”

He hummed, the sound low and contemplative. “And yet you did. You always came back.” His eyes met yours, and for a fleeting second, they softened. “Even when you have every reason not to.”

The words hung between you like a fragile thread.

“I came back because I trusted you,” you said quietly, the weight of the statement pressing down on your chest.

Viktor flinched, the softness in his eyes hardening into something darker. He lowered his gaze, focusing intently on your hand as he wrapped it in a clean bandage.

“You still can,” he murmured, but the words felt hollow like he was trying to convince himself more than you.

The silence stretched on, heavy and oppressive. Finally, Viktor broke it, his voice barely above a whisper. “About… before.”

Your breath hitched, and your stomach churned at the memory. You didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to relive the wrongness of his lips on yours or the way it had made your skin crawl.

“I shouldn’t have…” he began, his tone strained as if the words were being dragged out of him against his will. “It was—” He faltered, his grip tightening ever so slightly around your wrist. “A mistake.”

Viktor didn’t meet your gaze, his focus fixed on the task at hand. But there was something in the set of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders, that made you doubt the sincerity of his words.

“Do you regret it?” you ask.

His hand froze mid-motion, and for a long moment, he didn’t respond. Then, slowly, he looked up at you, his amber eyes burning you.

“No,” he admitted, the word barely audible. “I don’t.”

The air between you seemed to shift, the weight of his confession pressing down like a physical force.

You pull your hand away from his grasp, and he lets you.

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

You wandered the dark hallways, muttering curses under your breath. In your rush to leave earlier, you had forgotten something important in the lab, and now you were back. The sun had long set, casting shadows that made the corridors feel even more oppressive. Every step felt heavier as you neared the lab.

Your hand rested on the door, but you hesitated. A strange purple glow seeped from beneath it. Frowning, you pushed the door open just a little more.

What you saw inside froze you in place.

Viktor stood at the center of the room, clutching the Hexcore as energy surged from it. The room was alive with chaotic power, papers swirling violently in the air. The air crackled with an intensity that almost felt suffocating.

Viktor’s grip on the Hexcore was inhumanly tight, his body convulsing as energy ripped through him. His screams echoed a twisted mix of pain and something darker.

"Viktor!?"

Without thinking, you rushed forward, grabbing his arm in an attempt to pull him away. But the Hexcore seemed to resist, pulling back with a force that threatened to tear you apart.

A searing pain coursed through you, starting from your hand and spreading through your body like wildfire. You gasped, the sensation of your skin sizzling almost audible as you fought to stay on your feet.

An opulent light flared around you, the burns climbing up your body halting and healing quickly but leaving deep, raw scars in their wake. You could barely keep your vision clear as they spread, scarring your face and limbs, only for the wounds to heal just as quickly—leaving deep, jagged scars behind.

Viktor’s strained gasps filled the air as he looked over his shoulder, horror donning in his eyes when he recognized you. He saw the burns, your face raw with the damage, but before he could speak, the Hexcore pulsed again.

A final surge of energy erupted from it, throwing you back, your body slamming against the wall with a sickening crack. The lab was plunged back into silence, save for the distant hum of the Hexcore still glowing ominously in the center of the room,

Viktor gasps, catching his breath as he writhes on the floor. Desperation claws at him as he searches for your body, wi9dening once he sees it on the other side of the lab, blood smearing the wall behind you, a stark red against the pale stone.

“Y/n—” His voice cracked, hoarse and trembling. He dragged himself toward you, his movements slow and unsteady, his desperation palpable.

“Y/n!!”

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

Jayce stood motionless, staring at the still form in the hospital bed. Half of your face was unmarred, a ghost of the person he’d known for years. The other half was ravaged beyond recognition, the skin deeply scarred, a stark contrast that was hard to look at.

Beside him, the doctor spoke, her voice calm but grave. “There’s a spinal fracture. If they wake, they’ll be paralyzed from the waist down.”

“Stop,” Jayce whispered, his voice barely audible. He closed his eyes, as if shutting out her words could make them untrue. “Just... stop.”

The doctor hesitated, then nodded, her expression softening. “I’ll give you some space.”

As she left, Jayce remained rooted by your bedside, his gaze never leaving you. How had it come to this?

You had been more than an apprentice to him—his confidant, his partner, someone who believed in him even when he doubted himself. And now, you were here, teetering on the edge between life and death.

He gently reached for your hand, clutching it as though his grip alone could anchor you to this world. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “No more of this. No more council. I’m done with them. We’ll fix this. I’ll fix this.”

But his words felt hollow, and deep down, he knew he couldn’t undo what had been done.

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

“No one could have predicted this tragedy. Today marks six months since Zaun’s devastating attack on Piltover—”

The radio droned on in the background, but Viktor wasn’t listening.

He stood silently beside the hospital bed, his gaze fixed on you. Your face, marked by the scars left behind, was peacefully asleep. Machines beeped softly in the background, monitoring your condition.

Viktor’s discolored hand hovered just above yours, trembling slightly. His expression was unreadable.

“Soon, my dear,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Soon.”

To be continued...

TagList:

@marcyyywukinnie

[motthe]

hiii !! just read like ,, a BUNCH of ur lumen au stuff ,,,, truly i am brainrotted now because i'm just thinking of so many different scenarios involving the lumens and i am just . EXCITED !!! its SUCHHHH a good concept im a big big sucker for soulmate stuff ,,,,

i was just wondering how you feel about jayvik x reader ,,,, TWO lumens ,,,,,,,, idk if you write for anything poly or not, but id love to hear your thoughts on it !!! either through headcanons or a ficlet, whichever you feel like :]

my first viktor x reader x jayce piece i’ve ever written… wait is this my first poly drabble?? it might be actually! i hope it’s fun to read ♥️

warnings: fem!reader, slight negative feelings of not being good enough, but overall fluff!!!

The scientific jargon that came with having not one but both of your fated being inventors was overwhelming. The words they tossed around became an entire other language since you’d all gotten closer. It left you feeling unbearably empty-headed, wondering why the universe would bond you to such intelligent men.

They were already changing an entire city with their ideas, and you would bet the world would soon bear their mark as well. In comparison, you were a meager artist making ends meet at festivals and street corners. Sure, maybe your work could be seen on a few shop signs or covering a wall or two in a cafe, but that was as famous as you’d ever be—a stranger to the passing eye.

“We need to widen the cylindrical chamber, maybe add an exhaust pipe to help with the cooldown.”

Jayce’s voice slipped through your head, smooth and confident and making no sense. You’d gotten rather good and tuning out the meat of the conversations, only recognizing the tones and emotions.

The heavy, warm accent of Viktor’s replied, swirling in the back of your mind as your pencil swiped over the heavy parchment against your thighs.

Recently, they’d begun inviting you to their lab to spend your free time in their company. There were two desks to choose from, though they were usually piled high with blueprints or notes. Jayce had moved a couch into the space for your comfort, placed in the corner and under a window, well away from any dangerous work they had their hands on, though they usually took anything too precarious into another portion of the building.

Their assistant, Sky, was in and out, always double-checking if you needed anything. She was a kind young woman, curly hair and glasses and a smile that made anyone feel at home. She brought you your own coffee and snacks, promising it was no trouble since she was already bringing them to Viktor and Jayce, anyway.

“You actually eat them,” she chuckled. “Jayce will if he notices they’re there, but it’s a long shot most days.”

You understood what she meant, seeing how focused the men became on their gadgets and studies. You’re sure if you got up and left they wouldn’t notice for a good, long while.

Today was one of those days, though there was peace in your private little corner as you sketched away. You squinted over the top of your sketchbook, skimming the outline of Viktor’s goggles pressed into his thick, winding hair and quickly adding the little licks of tresses to the paper before he was moving again.

You switched targets, taking in Jayce’s side profile and adding a bit more depth to his eyebrow and under eye.

Taking a moment to look between both drawings, you were hit with their beauty once more.

Jayce was deemed the academy’s “pretty boy,” with his strong jaw and perfect smile. He was a clean cut handsome, peak health and built with broad shoulders. He knew how to use those looks to his advantage.

On the other end was Viktor. He was a haunting beauty, sleek and angular. If he had the same charisma with speaking to the masses as Jayce did, that accent would gain him more than a fair share of admirers, but his confidence and skills lied elsewhere. He had a sharp eye and wore his emotions rather loudly on his face.

Where Jayce had faint lines from how much he smiled, Viktor had a feather soft crease between his brows from how often he furrowed them. Where the golden boy’s hands were always warm, his partner’s was cold. They made such gorgeous opposites, yet they held so many comparisons in mannerisms when it came to their shared hobbies and passions.

It was safe to say you adored them and their intricacies.

Taking a slow, deep breath you checked both shoulders before moving the tuft of black in your periphery into your hand. Gold shimmered between the dark mass that made up Jayce’s lumen, settling deeper into your palm as you raised your arms and stretched.

When you moved your drawing pad to the side, you spotted Viktor’s wedged between the apex of your thighs. Swallowing your gasp, you scooped it up, praying it hadn’t been smushed the entire time.

“When did you get there?” you whispered, rubbing your pointer finger into the tawny fuzz of his light. His lumen had always had a bit more give to it, leaving it to wedge itself under your leg or your shirt collar. Viktor’s preferred to be as close as possible to you, even if it left his lumen squished.

Jayce’s lumen was firmer, still soft but in a velveteen sort of sensation. It was bigger, taking up a good portion of your palm. Now your second month with it, you’d learned if it wasn’t on one of your shoulders, it was likely circling your head. His never went far either.

You wondered if you’d received Jayce’s lumen first, if it would have more of an attachment to you. As it stood, you’d had Viktor’s since you were young while he’d held Jayce’s and Jayce yours. The three of you being tied together had become quite the story as there went many outward poly fateds in Piltover, but luckily the gawking had passed after the first handful of weeks.

It was only a few days ago that Viktor confessed he’d been rather confused when he’d met Jayce and the lumens had flashed against one another.

“There were no similarities,” he’d explained, holding up one long, thin finger for your lumen to rest on as it hovered in front of him. The three of you were cozied up in your lackluster apartment—a studio more than a bedroom but it had a nice pullout couch and plenty of blankets to rest on in front of your heater. “Jayce was ecstatic, of course, but I was ruminating over your lumen when we first met.”

“I thought he hated me,” Jayce had murmured, breath warm against your ear as you laughed.

“I did not hate you,” huffed Viktor on your other side, rolling his eyes as he dropped his hand, your lumen resting within. “I wasn’t aware we had a third, yet—it was puzzling.”

“I had to explain it to him,” Jayce chuckled. “One of my old friends was in a poly.”

“And, then, he was even more ecstatic,” Viktor sighed but there was affection in it. “I thought you’d follow him home some nights.”

“And leave you all by yourself?” You laid your head on his shoulder, grinning as his eyes fled. It was still so early into the relationship, and he grew flustered with physical affection whereas Jayce sought it every chance. “I’d never.”

“It’s better now, we’re all together,” Jayce hummed, lowering to lay his head in your lap. You brushed your hand through his hair, smiling as his lumen lit up in Viktor’s lap.

“Yes,” Viktor had agreed, careful as he laid his head against yours. “It all feels…complete.”

Your chest warmed at the memory as you held both of their lumens in your hands, giving a fleeting kiss to each. Viktor’s snuggled happily into your palm while Jayce’s pulsed a happy gold before flying off, likely to check in with Viktor.

As your eyes lifted to follow its journey, you jumped when you found Jayce smiling from a few feet away by his desk. He seemed to be shuffling through some papers. Your lumen floated just nice his head, twinkling in the sunlight that shone through the windows behind you.

“Didn’t see you there,” you said, stretching your legs out before standing. Viktor’s lumen left your hand, keeping close to your neck.

“I hope you’re not bored.” He opened an arm up and you approached. You still grew giddy with any chance to be wrapped in his embrace, quick to accept the invitation.

“I like spending time here with you both,” you assured, giggling as he bent down to kiss your forehead. “Gives me plenty of practice.”

His eyes lit up, one of those dark eyebrows lifting. “Oh?”

“I know what you’re about to ask—”

“Please?” His arm wrapped tighter around your waist. “I wanna see.”

“They’re just rough sketches!” you laughed, pushing against his chest.

“C’mon, I bet they’re great! I’m sure Viktor wants to see them, too.”

You shook your head, a mess of giggles as he wrapped both arms around you and slowly edged his way towards the couch.

“Did someone call my name?” asked Viktor, turning from the machine he was working on. A torch was in his hand but luckily still off for the time being. Jayce’s lumen was sitting on his knee.

“Viktor tell her you want to see her art!” Jayce goaded.

“Tell him he needs to wait for a real piece,” you threw back, wrinkling your nose at him as he stuck his tongue out.

“You’ve been drawing us?” Viktor’s voice seeped with awe and innocent curiosity. “May we see?”

Jayce bounced his eyebrows at you, all too smug. “Told you.”

“Fine—fine!” you sighed, throwing your hands up and wiggling out of his hold as you went to grab your canvas notebook. “Don’t gripe when you see your half-finished faces.”

The tap of Viktor’s crutch intermingled with Jayce’s footsteps as they met you by the couch. As you handed over your work, Viktor was the one to accept it as Jace stood over him. Both their eyes went wide at the current page and your hand went straight to your arm as you shuffled in place.

“Those are just warmups, so…”

“Warmups?” Jayce breathed, looking up from the notebook. “These are amazing!”

“I have to agree, the detail is astounding,” Viktor hummed, looking to turn back a page. He caught your eyes before he did. “Is this all right? Tell us if we’re overstepping.”

“No, it’s okay! I’m used to people watching me draw on the street, it’s just… I don’t know.” You shrugged, bringing a hand up as Viktor’s lumen rubbed against your neck. Jayce’s was just settling on your shoulder again. “I care about what you guys think. It’s not anything big like you do, but…”

“Big?” Jayce echoed, both of their sights set on you.

“Well, it’s not as important as what you both do is what I mean.”

“Of course it’s important,” Viktor argued, expression stern.

“But it’s art!” you laughed, waving off the sudden seriousness growing from them. “It’s helping a bunch of people like your creations do. That’s much more important.”

“Art is just as, if not more, important,” he continued, passing the notebook to Jayce. “We are helping people in different ways, but do not do yourself the disservice and think what you create is anything less than what we do.”

“He’s right,” Jayce agreed, holding up your work. “This? This speaks to people. Your work can bring life to a room and lets people save a special moment in time.”

“Okay, don’t butter me up so much or I’ll melt!” you squeaked, too embarrassed to look at them as they chuckled and continued flipping through your sketches. It wasn’t long before the three of you were on the couch, both of them pointing out their favorites.

“Is my hair truly that messy?” Viktor grumbled, raising a hand to it. “Perhaps I should cut it.”

“No, I like it,” you said, grabbing his wrist. “You twirl it when you’re thinking! It’s so sweet.”

He blinked at you. “I do?”

Jayce whistled and you turned and gasped, completely forgetting the drawing you’d done of him in the forge. It was more from memory so your imagination had left it a bit more detailed than the rest.

“Okay, that’s enough!”

You swiped for the book, shutting it as Jayce laughed. Viktor rolled his eyes, smirking as he nudged your shoulder.

“Should I be worried of any scandalous pieces of me in there?”

You pouted, holding the notebook tighter to your chest.

“Oh?” Jayce breathed. “She didn’t say no!”

“You two are the worst!” you groaned, unable to help yourself from smiling as they both laughed in tandem.

[supernovalcholism]

A Tad Too Needy

Viktor x reader

Viktor and reader working hard in the lab. He’s been a bit distant, and it was always a certain way.

The lab was quiet except for the soft hum of the machines and the occasional sound of Viktor muttering to himself as he adjusted the delicate components of his latest invention. You leaned against the doorway, watching him work in his usual meticulous fashion. The flickering lights overhead cast shadows across his face, accentuating the intensity with which he focused on his work.

But it wasn’t the invention that caught your attention.

It was him—Viktor, so absorbed in his project that he barely noticed you standing there. The way his brow furrowed in concentration, the way his fingers brushed over wires and components with precision, yet there was something off tonight.

You’d noticed it earlier—the way he kept glancing at you, his usually self-contained demeanor just a little more… eager. The way his hands twitched when they brushed against you, how his voice softened when he spoke. The way his gaze lingered for just a beat too long whenever you looked his way.

He was trying to focus, but it was clear that the tension between you two was building. And you couldn’t resist.

“Viktor,” you called, pushing yourself off the doorframe and stepping closer to him. Your voice was light, teasing. “You’re looking a little... distracted. Is everything alright?”

Viktor’s hands paused mid-motion, and for a split second, his eyes flickered toward you—dark, intense, a little guilty, but he quickly masked it with his usual composed expression.

“I’m fine,” he said, but the slight tremor in his voice betrayed him. “Just... working on the calculations.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? You sure it’s just calculations? Because it looks to me like you’re working pretty hard to avoid looking at me.”

Viktor’s lips pressed together in that tight line of his, but you could see the flicker of frustration in his eyes. He had always been so controlled, so precise in everything he did, but there was something about you tonight that was throwing him off—something about the way you looked at him, something about the way you teased him.

“You’re imagining things, y/n…” he muttered, though his voice held a trace of breathlessness.

“Am I?” you asked, stepping even closer now, the playful lilt in your voice making him swallow hard. You leaned over his shoulder, your breath warm against his ear. “I think I know a needy look when I see one.”

His body stiffened slightly at the word, and for a moment, his focus wavered entirely. You could see the conflict in his eyes—wanting to keep his professional demeanor intact but struggling with the undeniable pull between you two.

“I’m not... needy,” he said, his voice more strained than he intended.

You let out a small, amused laugh. “Really? You’re not needy, Viktor? Because it looks to me like you’ve been glancing at me every few minutes, as though you’re hoping I’ll do something. Are you sure you’re not just a little... desperate for attention?”

You could see the way his jaw clenched, but Viktor didn’t push you away. If anything, he seemed to draw you in with the subtle, almost imperceptible pull of his gaze. The tension between you two was palpable now, and he was fighting it.

“You think I’m desperate?” he finally asked, his tone lower, edged with something you couldn’t quite place. His eyes darkened as they locked onto yours. “Maybe I am.”

You couldn’t help the smirk that crept onto your lips. “I think you are,” you teased, your fingers lightly brushing over the back of his hand. “You’ve been so focused on this project, but every time I move, your eyes follow me. You can’t keep pretending you’re not aware of how badly you want something more than just that machine.”

Viktor’s breath hitched, his usual calm demeanor cracking. The little hairs on his neck rose like sunflowers. He shifted slightly in his seat, one hand moving to adjust his glasses, but you noticed the slight flush creeping up his neck.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, though his words were softer now, less certain. His voice betrayed a vulnerability you hadn’t heard from him before. “I’m just... focused on the task at hand.”

“Focused, huh?” You leaned in even closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “Then why does it seem like you’re avoiding looking at me too much? Almost like you’re trying not to give in.”

For a moment, Viktor was silent, his breath uneven as the heat between you both seemed to crackle. He was so close now, yet still trying to maintain his composure. But his shoulders tensed, and you could see the internal struggle.

With a soft chuckle, you pulled back just slightly, but your hand lingered on his, fingers trailing gently up his arm. “You know—Viktor, it’s okay to admit you’re a little needy sometimes. You don’t have to hide it.”

The corner of his mouth twitched as he let out a soft, frustrated sigh. "You're impossible," he muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose. But there was no bite in his words, only the faintest trace of something else, something deeper. His obvious feelings HES BLUSHING

"Maybe," you said, your voice lowering, “But I think you like it."

And just like that, the barrier between you two broke. Viktor’s gaze softened, the cool, composed mask slipping just enough for you to see the raw need behind it. He finally turned to face you fully, his hand moving to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing over your lips as his breath caught.

"Don’t tease me too much," he warned, but the playful glint in his eyes told a different story. "You might get more than you bargained for."

You smiled, leaning into his touch, knowing that you’d pushed him just enough to make him let go of the control he held so tightly.

“Oh, Viktor,” you whispered, “I think I’m exactly ready for whatever you’re willing to give.”

pt2 ?? Get this to 400+ notes and I'll make it happen 😇

- enya

[wheatbreadfuckyeah]

DEBATE [VIKTOR X READER]

You’re seated on a stool near Viktor’s workbench, a half-eaten sandwich in hand as he adjusts a delicate mechanism in front of him. The lab is alive with its usual hum, but your conversation has been anything but routine— debating the intricacies of progress and the pitfalls of society.

“I’m simply saying,” Viktor begins, his voice steady but laced with that characteristic sharpness, “that innovation is wasted on those who refuse to adapt. Society clings to the familiar, even as it decays beneath them. Change should not ask permission; it should demand compliance.”

You raise a brow, chewing thoughtfully before replying. “That’s a rather cold way to look at it. You’re forgetting that society isn’t a monolith. People adapt at different rates, and forcing progress without consideration only breeds resistance.”

Viktor turns slightly, his smirk subtle but present. “Resistance is inevitable regardless. The fear of the unknown has held humanity back for centuries. At some point, you must abandon hand-holding and move forward. Progress waits for no one.”

You lean forward, resting your elbows on the workbench as you counter, “But progress without empathy is hollow, Viktor. What good is innovation if it leaves people behind? Isn’t the goal to elevate society as a whole, not just those who can keep up?”

His fingers pause briefly over his work, and he looks up at you, his gaze sharp but curious. “Empathy has its place, but it can not dictate the pace of advancement. Compromise too much, and you risk stagnation.”

You smirk, sensing an opening. “Ah, but compromise is what makes progress sustainable. A society forced to change too quickly risks collapse. You don’t build a bridge by leaping across a chasm– you lay down the planks one by one. It’s slower, yes, but far less likely to send everyone tumbling into the void.”

He leans back slightly, his expression thoughtful but unreadable. “An interesting analogy,” he admits, though his tone is tinged with reluctant acknowledgement. “Perhaps you have a point. But the void is inevitable for some, regardless.”

“True,” you say, standing up brushing the crumbs off your hands and grabbing the wrapping parchment off the desk. “But maybe fewer people fall if you take the time to build that bridge properly.”

You sling your bag over your shoulder, smirking at him as you make your way to the door. “Good talk, Viktor. I’ll let you chew on that while I go back to class.”

He doesn't watch as you leave, yet his lips quirk into the faintest shadow of a smile.

[sciencebecameouraddiction]

title: a thursday night outing

author: sciencebecameouraddiction

fandom: arcane

rating: pg

genre: romance

pairing: viktor x reader

summary: heading home to get ready for a fun dinner with mel, you find viktor who is blindsided by your impending absence, even though you told him like 3 times that week.

based off this Shorts skit loosely: https://youtube.com/shorts/yRAdhnj2oOc?si=uLdR4bdqTWNlgGIy

“darling?” i ask as i walk into the apartment viktor and i share. “are you home?” my voice echoes through the apartment, as if on auto pilot my hands work the scarf from my neck and place it on the stand near the door, along with my coat. i blink a few times as i slip off my shoes hearing no noise coming from the apartment. viktor should have been home by now and normally would be writing in his journal or making a cup of tea. sighing as my feet guided me to our room, a bit disappointed as i wanted to say hi to him before going out to dinner with mel.

i turn the corner into our room and go to the dresser, as i open the drawer for a change of clothes i don’t hear but more so feel a presence behind me, my body locking as if i was a deer in a bright light. i feel them getting closer and quickly my rational mind recognizes this must be viktor. i have just a few seconds to decide if his little plan was going to pan out the way he thought it would. i gently smiled and continued to grab clothes feeling his arms wrap around me. i hear his sigh and chuckle.

“i can never sneak up on you.” he says, pouting.

“i felt you behind me when you were near the bed, my love.” i smile and roll my eyes as i turn in his arms to finally look at him.

“how was your day?” the words come out as routine but i appreciate them nonetheless.

“it was good. i was just looking forward to tonight.” his brows furrow as i explain.

“tonight….?”

“yes, tonight! don’t tell me you forgot. i’m going to dinner with mel tonight. a little girls night, uninterrupted by council meetings or crazy inventors changing the world. just a night where we can have good food and talk about skincare.” a laugh falls from my lips as he looks mildly affronted and also completely disinterested.

“so, you are going to need to do whatever you normally do when i’m gone.” i laugh seeing the look on his face. “viktor, are you okay?”

“just… i forgot that was tonight so i am feeling a little… ehhh, blindsided, if I’m honest.” i nod as he looks like he’s going through five stages of grief realizing i wouldn’t be at home tonight.

“do you need me to give you some space or do you want a hug?” i ask as i pull back a bit, my hands resting on his forearms. his face falls into partial annoyance and disbelief.

“don’t “gentle parent” me.” i laugh as he still looks pouty and then looks at me. “a hug would be nice.” and as i lean in my heart feels too big for my chest as my arms wrap around him and i hold him close. my head buried into the crook of his neck and his in mine. i make sure that he moves to separate first, his grin content as he looks at me and then his eyes widen as he sees tears in my eyes.

“darling, what’s wrong?” his voice somewhat panicked.

“nothing. nothing.” i smile as a tear runs down my face and i hold his hand resting on my cheek. “i love you so much, that sometimes the… strength of my emotions feels like my body is incapable to hold onto a love this strong. a love this big. it feels like it is so much, but i delight in it because that love is for you.” viktor’s eyes widen and his face goes from worried to relaxed to a gentle smile.

“you know, i wouldn’t have believed that if you had told me that a year ago.” his hands grip my hips bringing me closer.

“i know. how can you accept love when it’s never been given to you freely?” i smile. “but i’m here now. jayce is here. we have so much love to give you that all you have to do is just stand there and accept it.” i kiss his cheek as he looks up, knowing that he was trying to make sure i didn’t see his eyes well up with tears.

“how about while i go to dinner, you and jayce hang out? and then when i get back, you and i can cuddle in bed and i’ll pick up reading that book we were almost finished with last week.” i ask, not wanting him to be alone.

“i can be alone, my love.” he levels me with a glance and i chuckle, it’s like he can read my thoughts.

“you can be, but do you want to be?” i ask.

“i’d like to read and wait for you to come home… alone. jayce would not shut up in the lab today so quiet would be much appreciated.” i chuckled at his exasperated eye roll.

“okay. okay.” i say as i turn to grab a last few garments before i get ready to shower. i hear him hum behind me and then rewrap his arms around my waist.

“you should definitely wear the black lace set.” he murmurs and kisses my neck.

“just for you.” i pull out the set and place it with the rest of my clothes. “do you mind keeping me company in the shower?” i ask, him knowing it’s not just me asking if he minded, i knew he didn’t. it was asking if he could, if he felt up to it and wanted to.

“i’d love to.” i smile at him as i took his hand in my left and grabbed my clothes in my right and we headed off to the bathroom.

“besides…. since i felt so blindsided about your outing tonight, seeing you naked will definitely help me get over it.”

“viktor!”

[distantdarlings]

ELUSION // v. krum

RATING: R / 5.1K WORDS

Viktor Krum x Spanish!American!Fem!Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* You've been forced to move to London in the middle of your senior year at Ilvermorny. While having to transfer all of your credits to Hogwarts, the Triwizard Tournament is also going on, and you catch one of the competitors' eye.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! PIV (no protection!), coming inside, quickie, (sort of) public sex, riding, foreign language kink? (idk), badly translated Spanish, very brief mention of injuries, very brief mention of blood, kissing, language, not fully proofread (lmk if I missed anything)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

greedy - Tate McRae

*If the translation for the Spanish is bad, PLEASE CORRECT ME! Thank you!!!*

**Also, I know that Viktor was technically the second-to-last competitor in the dragon challenge before Harry, but just pretend he went first for the sake of the story.

---

When you moved from America and everything you’d known since you were a child to the busy, dreary streets of London, the last thing you’d expected was to find some infatuation with a wizard from deep within the Scandinavian mountains. 

Your parents had packed you up after dropping the heartbreaking news that you’d be moving halfway across the world less than a week earlier. You’d barely had any time to weep over the friends you’d no longer see and the gorgeous school you’d come to adore. 

Ilvermorny had been your home for the entirety of your Wizarding education career, and now you were expected to drop it halfway through your final year. You were going to have to transfer all of your education credits, get to know all-new students and professors, and somehow manage to keep your head above water with your grades. 

When you first arrived at Hogwarts around the first of October, you remember telling yourself how much of a nightmare this whole transition was going to be. And you hadn’t been wrong. 

The communication between the faculty at Ilvermorny and Hogwarts had been weak at best. The first set of robes that were waiting for you in your dormitory when you got there were about two sizes too small. The food took some major getting used to, which wreaked constant havoc on your stomach. And, worst of all, your grades had hit a bit of a stutter, partially due to all of the stress you were under, and partially due to the insane accents that floated about this castle. More than a few times, you’d found that you’d written an incorrect potion ingredient or the wrong historical fact, and then missed that question on a quiz simply because you’d misheard the professor. It was a complete pain in the ass.

The only bright spot in the whole thing was that you’d actually managed to make a few friends. Due to there only being a few months left in your enrollment at Hogwarts, Headmaster Dumbledore and a few of the other faculty members decided it was mostly useless to sort you into a house. So, if being the “new girl” in your senior year wasn’t spotlighting enough, you were now also the standout weirdo who didn’t belong anywhere. 

Gratefully, though, a few of the Gryffindor girls had taken you under their wings. They were a bit younger than you, but were kind enough. 

You’d struck up a conversation with them during the first strange event in the school year. Amongst the hustle and bustle of packing up your entire life, you’d forgotten that Hogwarts was the talk of campus back at Ilvermorny this year. Everyone had been jealous because that stupid school was hosting the Triwizard Tournament, and Ilvermorny was never allowed to participate. Granted, the contest hadn’t taken place in a long time, but as soon as talk of it sprang up around town, everyone was jealous. You’d never not know your American peers to be competitive as hell, and they showed that ten times over amidst all of the Triwizard Tournament discussion. 

Before your last day at Ilvermorny, you remembered one of your friends mentioning how jealous they were that you were going to be able to view most of the contest. At the time, however, that was the least of your concerns. 

Now, after having settled in for the most part and discussing the champions that were selected with the Gryffindor girls, you were pretty invested. Firstly, because one of the champions was a friend of the Gryffindor girls, and, secondly, because one of the others had caught your eye pretty quickly.

Headmaster Dumbledore had announced the names of the contenders one at a time with his booming, powerful voice, waiting patiently as they walked proudly up to the front of the Great Hall. You had watched silently, only partially paying attention due to the shitty grade you’d just received on a paper you’d turned in yesterday. In fact, you were so distraught over that assignment, you likely wouldn’t have even looked up if the Gryffindor girls hadn’t started giggling and playfully elbowing each other when one of the champions was called. 

Their silly antics had pulled your attention away from where your fingers were anxiously shredding the loose skin beside your nails, and you had caught sight of the one aspect of this entire stressful journey you hadn’t been expecting. 

You’d expected the plummet in your grades, the anxiety, the isolation. But you hadn’t seen this heated, rapidly formed relationship between Viktor and you coming, not from miles away. 

It had started slowly. After the lingering eye contact he’d laid on you as your focus had followed him all the way up the steps on the night of the Halloween feast, came the sneaking glances between classes. 

They were innocuous at first—just brief, passing looks from across the room, where your eyes would slide over each other a little slower than they would others. Slowly, though, the glances turned into staring, then into open challenges, until one evening Viktor approached you. 

You’d been sitting outside in one of the courtyards, scanning through a reading assignment McGonagall had assigned, trying to force yourself to concentrate on the tedious material. Whether it was from the hunting skills Durmstrang pushed or his natural silence, you hadn’t heard the dark man stroll up behind you. 

You weren’t sure how long he’d been standing there, feeling the same breeze that you were coasting over his face, when he finally spoke. 

“What are you reading?” he’d asked, and you’d nearly jumped out of your skin. 

You hadn’t heard him speak up close yet, so you were almost shocked at how strong his accent was. He obviously came from a foreign school, way up North in the far mountains, but you hadn’t realized just how heavy it sat. His mouth formed awkwardly around the unfamiliar English letters, and all of his ‘w’s came out more like ‘v’s. It was cute. 

“Oh, er,” you chuckled nervously, gently pushing the book closed around your finger to save your spot. He was even more handsome up close, and you had to force yourself to swallow that thought down as he spoke with you.

A gentle smile spread across his lips. “I’m sorry. Did I scare you?”

“Uh, just a little bit,” you laughed. “But that’s okay. You’re…Krum, right? Viktor?” 

He nodded in response. His hands were tucked within his trouser pockets, his arms slipping beneath a heavy fur coat that kept all of his towering warmth close to his body. You found yourself a bit jealous in that moment, considering how chilly it was getting outside. 

“Yes,” he responded. “And you? Your name?”

Once you’d introduced yourself a bit better, you’d fully abandoned your reading assignment, noting that you’d just find your lost place later. You were much more interested in this conversation. Despite his endearing accent, his features were mesmerizing—all soft beauty and dark eyes. You were sucked in instantly. 

“Your accent? What is it?” he suddenly asked, thick eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“Like, where am I from?” you laughed a bit. He nodded. 

“Well, I’m from America,” you explained. “You know, like the United States? But my family is Hispanic. I grew up speaking Spanish in my household and still do, so I’m sure a bit of the accent is leftover from them.”

“Spanish? Wow!” he seemed genuinely interested. “And American? Very different.”

The two of you laughed. When silence ensued every so often, it didn’t feel too uncomfortable or awkward, but it did feel more intimate than you’d been expecting. You noticed that when you were not talking, both of you were trailing the other. He seemed just as interested in you as you were in him, if not more. 

After that day, you’d found yourselves hanging out a bit here and there. Just like everything else between you, it seemed to start slowly and develop more and more until it broke wide open.

There had only been a few more days until the first trial of the Triwizard Tournament. Viktor had developed a squealing gaggle of girls that followed him around the campus, no matter if he was working out or just going between classes with his professors. It was annoying to you, but he seemed used to it. 

Sure, there was nothing between the two of you, but you couldn’t help the jealousy that had blossomed within your stomach every time you saw them swoon over him stretching by the Black Lake. It made your chest boil with an uncomfortable heat. It still did, even now.

But he hadn’t seemed to notice. And he especially didn’t notice when he walked over to where you were reading comfortably with your back propped up against one of the smaller willow trees peppered along the lake’s shore. His eyes were curious, but his lips parted in a small, almost shy smile. His cheeks were flushed red from the heavy run he’d just taken, and he seemed eager to draw your attention away from the book pressed against your knees. 

The group of girls that trailed after him seemed to realize that he was approaching you. As your eyes glanced back and forth between him and them, you slowly realized that they were now jealous of you. This was a complete turnaround of the emotions that were being passed along the shore. 

Finally, he squatted beside you and asked you, once again, what you were reading. You’d chuckled quietly and explained the project you had due the next day and how it related to the book. And, after a while, the girls seemed to notice he was not interested in them and was wholly focused on you. And that angered them. They’d stomped, sighed, rolled their eyes, and everything in between before wandering off to who knew where.

And, suddenly, it was just you and Viktor, like it had been the last few weeks. You were chatting idly, sitting next to each other, breathing in the other’s scent and hearing the other’s voice—just enjoying the company. The shore had cleared, and there was no one else around who could easily be spotted. His eyes trailed over your face as his head lay back against the tree behind the two of you. They flickered down to your lips only twice before he’d gathered up enough courage to lean forward and press his mouth against yours. 

And whatever tension that had been blooming between the two of you cracked open like a fruit above your heads, raining sweet syrup and golden light from above. And, damn it, if you hadn’t been so glad your parents had forced you to move in that moment. 

You could still feel the way his hands had gently cupped your jaw as he controlled the kiss in an easy, yet dominating way. It wasn’t much more than an easy, elongated peck, but it was enough to lock you in.

And that is what crossed your mind now as you scurried down the grandstands after the Triwizard competitors’ tent, weaving in and out of your fellow Hogwarts students and scattered attendees of the other competing schools. 

Viktor had just gotten through the first challenge. The Triwizard Tournament was not known for being safe, by any means, but with your newfound affection for the boy, you hadn’t expected to see him thrown in the ring with a literal dragon on his first day. 

But you hadn’t given him enough faith. Viktor had expertly weaved around the creature, fighting and defending, slashing and barking warnings in his native tongue. He’d evaded the giant serpent with nothing but an enormous rock he’d gathered up as a shield and his wand until he could dive and tuck into a roll, collecting the golden egg against his torso as he did. 

When the dragon had realized he’d successfully gotten the fake golden egg away from her—almost completely due to Viktor’s expert use of a curse that temporarily blinded her—she had wailed in anger and shot melting blasts of fire from her nostrils that nearly singed the tail of his outfit. You had clamped your hands to your face, stomach dropping painfully, as you’d watched the high-action event play out. 

But, in typical Viktor fashion, he’d come out on top with a victorious show of the egg he’d collected before disappearing through the competitor’s entrance. 

You pushed through the last crowd of students lingering around the competitor’s tent, blocking the entrance and trying to sneak a glimpse of the focused Viktor Krum and his immaculate skills of elusion. But he had not been taken back to that tent. 

He had told you before he was put into the arena, and before he’d given you a slow, but loving kiss, that they’d be moving him to a separate tent set up a couple of yards behind the other competitors so he could recuperate in peace. And that’s where you were headed now, trying not to draw the attention of the crowd. 

And, just as he said, there was another cream canvas tent propped up a bit behind the other one. The slightly parted entrance flapped gently in the breeze. It was completely unassuming and held the man who was certain to win this thing. 

A smile appeared on your face as you slipped down the grassy hill and gently peeled the tent’s opening back, glancing inside. 

Viktor sat on a collapsible cot with a single mauve quilt thrown over it. There was a small leather trunk on the opposite side of the magically-enhanced tent, stuffed full with his everyday clothes, and an oaken desk to the right of it. It was piled high with things you assumed belonged to his headmaster and professors who had come in and out to support him. 

Viktor wore no shirt. He was facing away from the opening with his right hand pressed against the left junction of his neck. He rolled his shoulder beneath his palm, attempting to alleviate some tension. Already, a few reddened bruises were forming along his body from the abuse he’d endured from the dragon. A couple of scattered scars were drawn down the length of his spine—no doubt from old Quidditch injuries. 

As he massaged his body, his muscles rolled delicately beneath his tanned skin. You were mesmerized by the way he looked, his figure a perfect, masculine depiction. A thick swallow slid down your throat so slowly, you nearly choked. 

His head tilted to the right, his neck popping slightly, and a light groan exiting his lips. A pool of heat echoed deep in your stomach at the visual. All of a sudden, you found yourself extremely desperate for a taste of this man. You’d only known him for a couple of weeks, and you didn’t want him to think you were easy or anything like that, but…Merlin.

“Vik?” you called, though your voice caught in your throat and barely came out louder than a whisper. Nevertheless, he whipped around, catching your eyes instantly. Though he initially seemed a bit disturbed that someone was peeking into his tent, he quickly realized it was you. His expression immediately softened and turned into that same goofy smile he always gave you. 

“Hello,” he spoke, standing from the cot and walking over. “Come in. How did I do?”

“I thought you did very well,” you laughed breathlessly, stepping the rest of the way in and letting the flap slip closed behind you.

The early fall grass crunched beneath your shoes. Even with the only thing between you and the outside world being a thick sheet of fabric, it muted everything outside very well. You could only hear his breathing and your heartbeat thudding in your ears. 

He was now only a few steps from you. Still, he seemed nothing but glad you were here. 

Shyly, your eyes skidded across his naked chest where a few scrapes and early bruises were forming. A few beads of sweat trailed along the hollow of his throat, sliding across the base of his muscular chest. When you looked back up, a small bead of blood caught in the curve of his lips. Your mouth parted as if to say something, your hand rising between the two of you to gesture to the wound. 

You paused, and he watched as you lingered in the open air, trying to decide what to do. He seemed partly confused, but eventually realized what you were alluding to with your annoyingly awkward hand standing in space. His hand rose to his mouth and found the drip of blood there. He wiped it off and smiled.

“Sorry,” he chuckled. He walked over to the chest in the corner, searching for a small towel. You rolled your eyes at your behavior. Were you fucking born yesterday? Why did you just hold your hand in the air like that? You didn’t even say anything. You glanced down. You were still holding your hand out! You rolled your eyes and dropped it down by your side, mentally kicking yourself. 

When he was still struggling to locate something to wipe the blood with, you finally swallowed your pride and walked over to him. 

“Here, let me,” you said softly. You placed your wand against the trunk and whispered the Summoning charm. Both of you watched as a small gray towel slithered through the other things packed inside and sprang into your hand. He smiled.

Hesitantly, you placed the towel against the corner of his mouth, gently patting the pooling blood away. Beneath the scarlet, you noticed a small cut that rose up the side of his lips. It would certainly scar if something wasn’t done about it. 

“It’s just a small cut,” you echoed your own thoughts, actively avoiding his eyes. Your focus was on the wound, refusing to look anywhere else, because you knew if you glanced upward, you’d make direct contact with him. His lips were parted, and his breath was gentle. He did not speak. But he stared. Stared like you’d disappear the minute he blinked. It was alarming. 

When the bleeding stopped just enough for you to pull the towel away, you did so. But your arm was not able to make the full journey before one of his large hands captured your wrist within it. A small gasp slipped from between your lips at the sudden action. Finally, your eyes found his. They were dark, almost animalistic. Desire raged within you. 

“Do I make you unwell?” he murmured. You assumed, due to the undeniable language barrier between the two of you, he was doing his best to ask if you were comfortable with him, but you could barely hear him as it was. The blood rushed in your head so quickly, you couldn’t even think. Your lips were parted dumbly, and your eyes widened at his every syllable. 

“I—no, that’s silly. Why would I be un–unwell? I’m okay,” you stammered relentlessly, eyes fluttering nervously, looking everywhere but him. The hand that wasn’t trapped within his rose to press against your forehead—partly to exasperatedly rub your awkwardness away, partly to hide your face from him. 

The hand that wasn’t holding yours pushed forward to ease beneath your chin. His fingers were warm and steady as they gently directed your face to look back toward his. You swallowed nervously. 

“I’m sorry,” you breathed awkwardly. 

“How do you say ‘Can I kiss you?’ in your language?” he asked softly, eyes never leaving yours, hands never leaving your body. 

You blinked stupidly. “Er, you can say ¿Te puedo besar?…”

“Hmm,” he pretended to think for a moment. “T-Te…pue—” He struggled with the pronunciation. 

“Puedo…besar,” you spoke, helping him sound the words out. It was messy and filled with his heavy accent, but he managed to force it out. He smiled proudly afterward, awaiting your praise for his attempt. 

You smiled at him, giggling lightly. “Very good.”

He pushed a bit of hair behind your ear before smiling and asking again. “¿Te puedo besar?”

“Sí,” you whispered, the air echoing softly between the two of you. 

His hands slid along your jawline, cupping it easily, as he pressed his lips against yours. His mouth was soft and controlling, allowing you to sink into the kiss with no responsibilities. He did every ounce of the work. One hand pulled away to slip around your lower back, pinning your body closer to his. 

His tongue slipped against yours as your clenched knuckles pressed against his bare chest. He was hot to the touch, searing into your skin and branding you with the memory of his touch. You’d never be able to wash away his body felt against yours, and you didn’t care. 

Then, he was pulling away, whispering a powerful concealment charm in his native tongue that placed a completely soundproof protection around the entire tent and sealed the entrance, and pressing his mouth back to yours. He walked you backward until the backs of your knees bumped into the cot in the corner. You fell against it with a soft sigh, never allowing his mouth to part too far from yours. 

His hands slipped beneath your waist and, in one dizzying motion, he flipped the two of you. A small shriek left you as he landed with his back on the cot, and you were positioned in a straddle above his waist. He smirked cockily at your surprise.

“Fuck you,” you laughed, leaning back down to press your mouth to his once more. His hands trailed down your body, eliciting chills down the length of your spine with each inch he covered. His fingers slipped beneath the warm sweater you were bundled up in, tugging it upward and over your head. 

“Vik, it’s freezing,” you whined, immediately covering your exposed body with tight arms. You shivered lightly in your—thankfully—decent lace bra. 

“Agh, too warm here,” he laughed aloud. “In Durmstrang, freezing all the time.”

You rolled your eyes, grinding your hips down against his rapidly solidifying core. He groaned aloud at the sensation, his head rolling back gently against the cot. “Hey, dummy, I’m not from there. I’m not even from here! It’s much hotter where I’m from.”

He rolled his eyes and pulled the quilt out from beneath him, wrapping it around your shoulders. As he leaned upward to do so, he pressed a few hot kisses to your neck, breath billowing down your exposed chest. “Stay warm…wanna see you.” The whispers against your ear sent chills scattering down your arms. You gasped against him, revelling in the feeling he gave you. 

His hands slipped between your body and the quilt and selected the clasp of your bra, as he continued to trail kisses along your neck and shoulder. As his fingers worked to unhook your bra and slip it from around your body, your hips rolled over his endlessly, amping his and your desire skyhigh. 

When he finally pulled your bra from its place and abandoned it somewhere on the floor, he leaned back with a satisfied groan and ran his hands along your exposed body. He sighed at your appearance, pupils blowing wide and trailing over you. Your cheeks flushed at the exposure, but despite his and your current states of undress, you didn’t feel objectified. Maybe you’d regret your words, but this didn’t feel like a one-time thing. This felt like he wanted you. 

He wrapped the quilt tighter around you, his fingers tracing their way down your stomach until they perched atop the waistband of your jeans. He glanced back up at you as if asking permission, but you would have said yes to almost anything at this point. You nodded fervently as you got to work, undoing his trousers as well. 

Despite your simultaneous attempts, it seemed to work somehow, and you both awkwardly wriggled out of your pants. You immediately pressed your core back to his, revelling in the way he felt through your lace bottoms. He groaned aloud at the sensation, growling out a few curses in his native tongue. You didn’t know what it was, but you adored it when he did that. The way his tongue curled around the words pushed lust into your head so quickly that it made you dizzy. 

With a burst of confidence, you leaned down and mouthed kisses down the length of his abdomen. He sighed easily, torso flexing beneath the weight of your body. Your lips trailed along his body, skipping over the waistband of his briefs and trailing lightly over his core. His hand wrapped in your hair and pulled your head back upward. 

“No…need you now,” he groaned. You nodded frantically as he pressed your lips back together, but resorted to pushing his briefs down his legs. 

His skin was so hot, it felt as if you were lying before a fire. You barely even needed the quilt around your shoulders with the way he heated your body. Perhaps that was how he and all his other fellow students made it up at Durmstrang. It was cold, but they were natural heaters. 

Your lips never parted as his hand slipped between the two of you and slid your bottoms to one side. His fingers hurriedly traced your entrance, collecting a small smattering of slick that pooled there, before easing two within you. You braced as if preparing for the cool temperature of his hands that had been exposed to the October air, but still, his skin remained nothing but warm. In fact, his fingers felt warmer than the inside of you. You shivered at the soothing sensation, lips trembling against his confident ones. 

He worked you open easily but quickly. Though he wanted to indulge in this moment, take his time, and remember every single detail, the second competitor wouldn’t be much longer—if they were even half as good as Viktor had been. The dragon’s challenge was difficult, but it had already been longer than he had taken to defeat it. 

When you were comfortable enough, you pulled his hand away from you and pressed him to your entrance, letting the long length slide into you. You tried to take it slow to adjust to the sensation, but the soreness building in your thighs, the amount of wetness within your core, and gravity working against you, made for little to no resistance from your body. He slid in to the hilt in one quick movement. 

You whined aloud at the feeling, legs shaking at the stretch. Viktor, however, couldn’t get enough of it. Your warm, wet heat enveloped him in all but a second, suffocating his dick from within. His hands wrapped around your hips roughly in an attempt to control your squirming. 

He cursed aloud, his tongue wrapping around that foreign language so perfectly again. You moaned at the sound, rolling your hips along him, ignoring his hands around your hips. 

“Not, ah, won’t last if…” His words were cut off with another groan as you rolled your hips once more. If you were going to be quick, it didn’t matter if either of you couldn’t last. The other competitors would be down soon; you needed to wrap this up. 

Ignoring his pleas, you continued to ride him through the ache in your legs. His perfectly carved length caressed along that spot within you with each movement you forced. 

Despite his outwardly quiet appearance and lack of interaction with other people, he was noticeably vocal in bed—growls and grunts and foreign whispers. And you absolutely loved it. Every sound he made only forced you closer to your own end, even though the two of you had only just started. The weeks of building tension wouldn’t allow for any long-winded escapades today. Both of you would be coming quickly. You could make love next time, you decided. 

So, with that decision in mind, you continued to ride him. That was, until his hands around your hips tightened suddenly. He lifted you upward with surprising strength, before snapping his hips up into you rapidly. At the quick change in pace and angle, stars appeared before your eyes, as he worked you even closer to the end you began. 

“Fuck, that’s perfect, that’s—that’s it, Vik,” you moaned. “Fuck, I’m gonna…”

He punctuated your sentence with an especially rough thrust that cracked the coil wound tightly within your core. You came hard with a breathy whine. Your finish gushed around him and seeped past your legs with each thrust he pushed back into you. The orgasm only applied even more lubrication for him to lock his heels against the cot and pound into you as quickly as he could to wrench his own finish out of him. 

“Where?” he moaned. 

“Inside,” you breathed, clutching against his body tightly. 

He came with a growl and a few lazy snaps to work him through it. Then, you collapsed against his chest with an exasperated sigh. 

A few moments of silence filled the previously noisy tent. The only sounds in your head were his gentle heartbeat, his even breaths, and your prayers that this hadn’t been a mistake. He was a professional Quidditch player, a foreign student hailing from hundreds of miles away, and an almost complete stranger to you. Your plan had always been to return to the U.S. after you got your diploma, so why was one man making you doubt that? Fuck. 

But his fingers coming down to trace easily over your exposed arms silenced the worries in your head. At least, for right now. You could mull over your adult plans later, but, for now, you were pretty fucking comfortable. 

“Hey! What the hell?” A distant voice interrupted your inner monologue. Viktor and you snapped up and glanced frantically at each other. “I thought they said this was the competitor’s tent!”

The voice outside held an undeniably French accent, which meant that Fleur Delacour was done with her challenge, awaiting her “recuperation tent.”

“Shit,” you said. The two of you quickly hopped to your feet and began to rapidly redress, occasionally confusing certain articles of his clothing for yours and vice versa.

Eventually, the two of you were each wearing your own clothes (for the most part) and playing the role of exhausted competitor and support system who totally had not just fucked in the tent but wore suspicious smirks and struggled not to giggle every few minutes.

---

Tag List: @mypolicemanharryyy, @angelfrombeneth, @clairesjointshurt, @bunbunbl0gs, @acornacreacure, @niktwazny303, @thestarlithideout, @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw, @yhiiil, @xxrougefangxx, @thatblackthorn, @robinyx, @starsval, @jolly4holly, @blvebanisters, @chgrch, @ilovehotmenandwoman, @smutnyrobocikwrakiecie, @synicaljah, @2dloveshp, @seagull-on-toast

[miffysrkv]

!!!somnophilia, fingering, squirting

reader can be afab, amab, or gender neutral :)

imagine waking up FTM! Viktor by eating him out at the crack of dawn.

out of the two of you, Viktor is usually the one who’s waking up early. the one who makes coffee for the both of you and bringing a fresh cup to bed as if to tempt you to arise from dreamland.

this time around, it is you who wakes up early and your eyes lock on your lovers sleeping form. you watch as his chest rises and falls, observing the faded scars below his chest and admiring all of the beauty marks that littered his body. absolutely stunning.

mischievousness runs up your spine as you duck under the shared blanket, placing yourself in between Viktor’s thighs, and gently lifting his legs so they could rest over your shoulders. the two of you opted to sleep nude so having to remove his undergarments was no issue.

placing soft kisses along his thighs, you could feel him twitch but made no move to wake up any time soon. feeling more bold you trailed your kisses closer, and closer to his pussy before kissing his hooded clit. at that, his hips slightly jolted, a muffled groan could be heard outside of the blanket.

licking a line from where his hole was and back up to his clit, you softly suckled on it, running your tongue back and forth slowly. he still made no move to uncover you from under the blanket and you brought up your finger to tease & prod at his hole. this continued for 5 minutes before Viktor began to stir.

“w-what is- my love?” he spoke confused, lifting the blanket reveal you nose deep into his cunt. you looked a mess. your tongue was deep into his achy hole as his essence was making a mess on the outside of your mouth. he couldn’t help but grip your hair as he let out a low moan at the sight. “ahh, please. I-I need more” he whimpered, tugging at your hair. you let out a whimper at the pressure before picking up speed, opting to suck at his clit as your fingers replaced your tongue.

he was moaning loudly now, his hips jerking against your face and on your fingers. your free hand was placed on his navel as to ground yourself and to apply pressure while you fingered him. you could tell he was getting close due to his moans growing in pitch and how his walls clenching your fingers tighter.

“cum for me baby. cum all over my face”

the vibrations of your voice, alongside the immense pleasure you were giving him tipped him right over the edge as he squirted all of your face, his body and thighs shaking. the grip on your hair loosened and you moved back to kiss at his puffy clit, his soaked pussy and his equally soaked thighs, allowing him to calm down.

‘what a morning’ you thought.

[loveabledoll]

Dirty Cash.ᐟ

Viktor x Fem! Reader

In which, you suddenly get a tone of money. Who knew that you had to do some dirty work for it.

a/n: hi divas!! I saw a lot of people liked my other Viktor oneshot so here's another one! this one isn't my fav cuz its lowkey short but I think its cute

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

“Where on earth did you get that?” Viktor exclaimed, his eyebrows knitting together in astonishment as he stared at the box of expensive, high-tech equipment you had just carried into the dimly lit lab. The box was adorned with sleek designs and the latest technology, a stark contrast to the cluttered workbench scattered with dusty tools and disassembled gadgets. You couldn’t help but smile, tilting your head playfully to one side.

“Do you have any idea how much these are?” he continued, his fingers delicately brushing over one of the intricate components, marveling at its craftsmanship. You held your breath for a moment, glancing off to the side as if considering your next words carefully, then shrugged nonchalantly. With a mischievous twinkle in your eye, you replied, “Don’t ask and enjoy,” punctuating the statement with a wink while leaning casually against the desk, exuding an air of confidence.

Viktor’s eyes lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning as he sorted through the various parts, his mind already racing with possibilities. “You have no idea how rare these are…” he muttered under his breath, becoming engrossed in the treasure trove of trinkets laid before him.

After a brief, absorbed silence, Viktor paused, placing the delicate gear back in the box. He leaned back in his chair, a faint sigh escaping his lips, and regarded you with a skeptical expression. “Did you steal these?” he challenged, raising an eyebrow as he scrutinized your demeanor. The intensity of his gaze made you hesitate for a fleeting moment as you tried your best to maintain an innocent facade.

“I just had some… spare money. Why not spend it on my favorite inventor?” you replied, tilting your head slightly and pouting to soften the edges of the conversation. “Don’t you trust me?”

Viktor let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head in disbelief. “You? Have spare money?” he scoffed, a frown forming on his lips as he redirected his attention to the cluttered box. “And for one, I don’t trust you.”

You allowed a smirk to dance across your face, your shoulders shrugging in a carefree manner. “I had some… dirty work, let’s say,” you suggested with a hint of mischief in your voice. 

Viktor’s expression shifted, his curiosity igniting as he leaned forward, his body tensing slightly. “Dirty work?” he echoed, his voice trailing off as his eyes drifted over your figure, assessing you with a newfound suspicion. Your cheeks flushed under his gaze. “Of course not! I haven’t gone insane,” you retorted quickly, adding, “I just did some work. In the Undercity.”

“What kind?” Viktor pressed, his interest now piqued as he frowned, searching your face for clues. 

“Just covering some people’s tracks,” you replied, casual air about you, though the words hung heavy in the air. “They paid me a lot,” you added, throwing him a playful wink to lighten the gravity of the situation.

Viktor fell quiet, the surprise and concern battling within him. After a moment, he nodded slowly, his expression softening. “And you spent it all on these parts?” he inquired, a hint of disbelief creeping back into his tone. “On me?” 

“I didn’t spend all of it on you,” you giggled, slipping off the edge of the desk to approach him. Leaning slightly over his shoulder, you whispered teasingly, “Or maybe I did,” allowing your breath to brush against his ear, an intimate gesture that sent a thrill down both of your spines. You tilted your head again, your smirk widening.

“Have fun with your brand-new toys,” you said softly, stepping back to create space between you two as you turned to leave the lab. Viktor stood there, confusion swirling in his mind, a string of curses escaping his lips as he realized the complexities of your actions. “Damn it,” he thought, a flicker of gratitude igniting within him—he owed you one.