#arcane reader insert

[corinthianism]

SOMETHIN' STUPID || VIKTOR

pairing: viktor (arcane)/fem!reader additional tags: viktor's pov, viktor is a certified yearner, maybe ooc, unrequited love that's actually requited, no physical descriptions for reader other than having dainty fingers and being shorter than viktor, hopefully correct use of czech pet names, barely proofread synopsis: the ever-brilliant viktor finds himself drowning in feelings for his colleague, so what does he do? bury them, of course.... until he learns that love is not something you can just ignore.

author's note: hello everyone! it's been a long, long while since i've written anything so i thought i would try and see if the ol' writing machine (aka my brain) still works lol. this is more of a blurb than anything so please go easy on me. also trying out something new by writing in present tense (lmk if it flows well!) viktor might be a little ooc but i'm still trying to fully understand him. hopefully my characterization of him in future fics (if any) will be more faithful to the viktor you're all familiar with. anyways, enjoy 2k words of viktor yearning like CRAZY 🫶🏼

Viktor doesn’t know how much more of this he can take. How many more times would your eyes meet from across the room at one of those parties he never really wanted to attend in the first place? How many more times would your fingers brush in the early morning, when he accepts the steaming sweetmilk that you so kindly got for him? How many more times would your laughter intermingle softly late into the night, when exhaustion took over and your writing started to look more like chicken scratch rather than letters?

He might just go insane.

How was it possible to want someone this much? Maybe he’s experienced something like this before, in tiny amounts, for people he hasn’t thought about in years. Deep down, he knows that even if he added all of those fleeting romances together, it would still only be a fraction of what he feels now. For you.

He can’t pinpoint that exact moment in time when everything changed. There were definitely a few of those moments that stood out more than others, but none of those instances were the catalyst for whatever this is. But they certainly don’t help his case.

A few words of encouragement.

A book recommendation.

A smile— so soft, so intimate, he briefly allows himself to believe that it was meant just for him. Something precious for him to keep, to be his and his alone.

In the dim light of the lab, he finds you asleep on your desk. The humming glow of the hex crystals leaves you blanketed in a gentle blue. He’s heard tales of this before, from when he bothered to listen to such things. It would happen just like this, they said: his heart would beat so fast, it threatened to leave his chest entirely. His skin would burn with something unmistakable, a feeling that left one in a state of simultaneous confusion and clarity.

He feels it all now and he finds it polarizing. It’s too much and not enough. He chases and runs away from it at the same time. A part of him wants it to stop, to go away and leave him forever for the sake of ending this game he’s painfully losing… but a greater part of him hopes that it will grow and grow to the point where maybe you’ll notice and do something about it. His palms get a little sweaty just thinking about making the first move. Symptoms of a lovesick fool.

The soft sound of your breathing quiets the pounding of his heart, prevents the wretched feelings from overflowing and spilling everywhere. Even if it was just for tonight. Tonight, he keeps his lips sealed, fights to keep himself from reaching for you. It would be unbecoming of him.

His eyes land on you again, observing how your head rested on your arms. Understanding hits him then, why you’re so bothered by seeing him stay at the lab so late that he ends up falling asleep. That position couldn’t have been comfortable. Of course, he knew that from experience, but it’s your comfort he’s thinking about right now. He wonders if this is what you felt whenever you woke him up and implored him to go home.

Surely not.

No, he can’t wrap his head around you possibly viewing that act the same way he does. Not when he wants to bottle this moment, wants to capture the preciousness of seeing you like this. It just can’t be the same.

So can you really blame him if when he finally rests a hand on your shoulder to wake you gently, he lets it linger there for just a little longer? An infinitesimal piece of time that he claims for himself. He never thought himself to be the sentimental type, but he cherishes it all: he cherishes the way you blink slowly as you returned to the waking world, and your tired murmur of his name that makes his chest tighten.

It’s just a wisp of a moment, never really tangible enough for him to hold in his hands, but he cherishes it all the same. It’s burned in his memory, in his very being, the same way everything else about you is. Every piece of you that you so generously gifted him.

���You should go home, darling.”

The word slips past his lips before he could even think about it. But he allows himself this one indulgence. He can’t help it. He’s always been a bit greedy.

“What time is it?” you ask.

“Far too late for you to be here,” he answers.

You huff out a breath of a laugh, “That’s rich coming from you.”

He finds himself smiling. How does someone manage to be so endlessly endearing without even trying?

It takes an embarrassing amount of effort for him to pull back his hand from your shoulder. Had you been more awake and had the room been brighter, he might’ve schooled his expression into something more neutral. Something to hide the unbridled adoration in his eyes. He doesn’t do that now. With the shield of darkness to protect him, he lets the mask come off. He lets his affection for you wash over him in waves. It would’ve been liberating, if it wasn’t for the tiny detail that that affection was unrequited.

Still, he says your name with utmost care. “You must go home and rest.”

To his surprise, you listen. You mumble a tired "okay” and gather your belongings, slipping on your coat. “You should go home, too, Vik.”

“I will. Soon. I just need to finish a few things.”

Your face twists into a frown, “No, you’ll do that tomorrow.” Before he can interject, you speak up again, “Just… come with me? It’s late and I don’t want to walk home alone.”

His brain refuses to reconcile with what his eyes see: the trepidation written all over your features, the way you clutch the lapel of your coat just a little tighter. He knows it’s a trap, you just want to get him out of the lab but how could he possibly reject the promise of a few more minutes with you? The chance to pretend, even if it’s just for those precious few minutes, that he was taking you home as someone more than a colleague? More than a friend? Only a fool would say no to you. Or perhaps he was a fool either way. He really must be going insane.

He says yes almost instantly.

It’s cold in Piltover tonight. It makes his bad leg ache more than it already does, and so his strides are a bit more careful. He doesn’t say anything about how you also slow down to match his pace but he appreciates your considerate gesture nonetheless.

The moon hangs in the sky big and bright, making everything around you seem softer. It’s picturesque. Almost romantic. He tries his best not to entertain that thought for much longer. Instead, he focuses on what you say to him so he could ignore the traitorous thoughts his mind conjures up and the way his knees were protesting because of the cold.

Conversation with you is easy— terrifyingly so. It was one of the first things he noticed about you when you first met.

Early on in the process of finding sponsors and securing funding, him and Jayce quickly realized that they needed help. Yes, Jayce is a friend of the Kiramman family. Yes, Viktor is Heimerdinger’s protégé, but they’re academics. At the end of the day, Jayce’s warm personality could only do so much when he was still greatly inexperienced with navigating these more political spaces and for all of his experience and perceptiveness, Viktor knows he’s no good at sweet-talking sponsors, either.

Enter, you.

Caitlyn Kiramman was the one to recommend you, her former tutor. Jayce was quick to back her up, remembering that you were also Academy alumni; a particularly strategic businesswoman. Viktor was hesitant at first, knowing that a third party could complicate things. Hextech was born out of the dream to help people. He worried that bringing business and politics (even though he knew it was necessary) into the mix would warp Hextech into something it wasn’t. Jayce convinced him to take a gamble, and it seemed that the potential of Hextech was enough to bring you back to Piltover from your travels across Runeterra.

It took him a while to warm up to you. You weren’t nobility, but most definitely well-off. Even more so after your years as a business consultant to organizations all over the continent. He respected you, sure, but Viktor had a hard time trusting someone who was so… privileged. How could you possibly understand how important it was that Hextech remained a beacon of hope for the less fortunate? Perhaps it was naive of him to think that way, as much as he hated to admit it.

But true to your reputation, you delivered exactly what they needed. You bridged the gap between Viktor and Jayce’s hopes for Hextech and the support they needed from sponsors, protecting them and their inventions from being taken advantage of.

Suffice to say, you earned his admiration.

Never in a million years would Viktor imagine that you would captivate his entire being, too.

It was daunting. Scary, really. Especially now that he’s beginning to understand the full extent of his affections. Years and years of burying that softness from his youth deep beneath the armor of his intellect— all that hard work diminished by a pretty girl. Gods, he really is just a man. Not even that. With you, he feels like a highschooler with a crush. It’s painful. Downright humiliating. But he wouldn’t trade it for anything. Not when you link your arm around his, laughing at something he said. Was he really that funny? Probably not. He’s just happy to make you laugh.

“You don’t have to be nice about it. Salo is a grade-A asshole,” you grinned. “We both know it. If I have to spend another dinner with him present I might actually stab a fork in my eyes.”

He smiles, “Ah, but that wouldn’t save you from his incessant chatter.”

“I’ll stab the fork into my ears too."

“I might just follow after you,” he hums, “you’ll have to check if it works first, though.”

Your friendship blossomed when your visits to the lab became less for work and more for leisure. You wanted to visit, wanted to learn more about what he and Jayce were working on and why. Everything after that was just dominoes. You, with all your fiery passion and sharp wit, have become a permanent fixture in his life and now? He could hardly imagine life without you in it. You're one of his dearest friends and, much to his dismay, that makes his current predicament even more challenging than it already is.

Before he knew it, the two of you were standing in front of your apartment building— one of the most luxurious in Piltover. He could only imagine how much it cost, though he knew for certain that your penthouse probably barely made a dent in your wealth. He’s gotten somewhat used to your differing lifestyles, but he’s never completely able to not marvel at it. A gust of wind kissed his skin once more as he turned to look at you.

“This is me,” you say, gloved hands in your pocket and your lovely, lovely face framed by your hair and ruby red scarf. He recognizes it as the gift he gave you a year ago now. A spur-of-the-moment purchase on one of the rare occasions he was actually outside Academy grounds. He remembers thinking that the color would look nice on you. He was right. He finds himself holding onto the seconds before he has to go. “Thank you for walking me home, Viktor.”

“Of course,” he nods but the calmness of his voice don’t match the way his eyes bore into yours. “It’s only proper.”

“Proper?”

“Yes. Proper. I am a gentleman, after all.”

His accent comes out thicker, emphasizing the words more than he means to.

“I didn’t take you for someone who cared much about propriety,” you tease.

“Is it because I’m from the undercity?” he deadpans and he relishes in the look of horror on your face that replaces your grin.

“What? No!” you exclaim, smacking his arm when you realize he’s just joking. “You. Are. Impossible.”

A laugh bubbles out of his chest, “Oh, that’s cruel. You would hit a defenseless man? How heartless.”

“Shut up. That cane of yours is a weapon of war. Don’t think I haven’t seen you smack Jayce with it.”

“If I hit him with it, he probably deserved it.”

“Poor Jayce,” you laugh as well. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

Viktor smiles.

“I do not think you could even if you tried, lásko."

He freezes and so do you. The laughter—the music—that you shared for the briefest of moments was thoroughly snuffed out, leaving you both in a silence that threatens to swallow him whole. He didn’t mean to do that. He didn’t mean to speak so gently, but there is not a part of Viktor that could withhold this sincerity from you. Specks of the truth, of the confession he’s barely managed to wrangle into submission and lock away somewhere dark and unreachable.

He pulls back on instinct. He’s shown too much, said too much. You don’t move. He is petrified.

Your eyes widen and he sees his reflection in them, staring back at him. This is it, he thinks. He’s crossed the line and he’ll have to deal with the crushing blow of your rejection.

You manage to compose yourself and what you say next is… well, unexpected. Your tone is light, clearing the air and allowing him to breathe again.

“Do you say that to every woman or am I a special case? I’d hate to be part of a roster.”

He’s taken aback, but he feels a weight lifted off his shoulders. You are a miracle in his eyes. Washing away his worries with a kind smile and a few choice words. He laughs again and this time, he doesn’t stop himself from speaking the truth. It’s now or never.

“Surely you know by now that you are singular,” he whispers, his accent a pleasant drawl in your ears. He takes a step forward. It is gravity that pulls him in, not the Earth’s, but yours. A force that he can’t help but be drawn to. Not that he would ever dare to resist it now that his fear has shrunk down to something a little less debilitating.

His face is inches from yours. You don’t move. He gets a little braver.

“I do not appreciate your implication that I would pay attention to anyone else,” his voice is low, honest. “As if anyone could compare to you. As if you don’t hold my very being in the palm of your hand. Miláčku, I adore you. Don’t you know that?”

There is a hint of pleading in his tone, begging you to understand the full scope of his feelings from those few words so that he wouldn’t unravel before you, a bundle of nerves and petals the same shade as your scarf.

“Say something. Please,” his fear rears its ugly head once more. “Say the word and we’ll pretend this never happened. I will remain your colleague and nothing more. A friend, if you would allow it.”

“What if I don’t want that?” you ask, your own voice a little shaky with uncertainty. Maybe it was also fear. That, he’s not quite sure.

Viktor doesn’t fully trust what he’s hearing, thinks it to be a figment of his deluded imagination, but his heart is screaming at him now to push forward.

“What is it you want, lásko? Tell me and it shall be yours.”

You're almost breathless when you finally respond, “You. I want you."

The world stills. Time itself screeches to a halt. There is only you and him, together in this moment that he knows will be woven into the threads of his soul. He has never known euphoria quite like this. He can’t name it yet, doesn’t know if this is love. He can only hope that it will be.

When he looks into your eyes again, he does not see his own terrified reflection. He just sees you. And the sheer intensity of your gaze that rivals his own. Have you always looked at him that way? Was he just too blind to see it?

“Do you mean that?” he finds himself asking. He has to— has to make sure that this is real.

You smile again, dainty fingers intertwining with his. It is a gentle smile, a hopeful smile that answers his question before you even open your mouth.

“I do,” your voice is so gentle and yet it squeezes his heart. “I’m yours, Viktor, if you’ll have me.”

He brings your knuckles to his lips, places a reverent kiss on them like you’ve given him the world. In a way, that’s exactly what you did. Maybe his lips were always meant to be on your skin, worshipping you like the goddess you are. It feels too natural for it to mean anything else.

And for the first time in a long time, he allows himself to hope.

“I would love nothing more.”

[the-other-universe]

Please Me ᯓ★

Caitlyn loves to use toys on you, especially when you look this pretty.

caitlyn kiramman x fem!reader

word count: 587

cw: SMUT 18+, mdni, absolutely no plot

“Shh, shh… easy.” You hear Caitlyn purr into your ear, a smug grin tugging at the corners of her lips. “You’re always so sensitive.”

You can feel her tits pressing against your back as she holds you close in her lap, both of your naked bodies slick with sweat and arousal. She presses the vibrator more firmly against your aching clit, rubbing it in slow circles to watch you twitch.

A shaky whimper slips past your lips at the feeling, a sound Caitlyn craves each time she has you in a position like this. “There you go.” She murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. “You like that, don’t you?”

The low buzzing sound fills the stuffy air, the usually pristine sheets crinkling beneath your bodies as your thighs begin to tremble. “Mhmm…” You hum, unable to get a proper word out with the way she forces you to take the pleasure.

She presses a button, causing the intensity of the vibrations to increase. The sudden change has you squirming even more, a breathy gasp tearing from your throat as your thighs instinctively clench together around the toy.

Caitlyn tuts disapprovingly, sliding her free hand from where it was resting on your hip to grip one of your thighs, squeezing roughly as she shoves it back open. “Don’t close them.” She says, a rugged edge to her voice. “Do you want me to stop?”

You shake your head, eyes squeezing shut as tears of overstimulation build up behind your lids.

She sighs, slapping your thigh enough to sting before gripping it again, making you jolt. “Words, sweet girl.”

You cry out softly, hips stuttering against the insistent buzz. “No, please…”

Caitlyn lets out a sound of approval against your ear, rubbing the vibrator in quicker circles against your clit, the slick sounds permeating the air. “Shh, you can take it, sweetheart.” She murmurs. She slides her hand from your thigh, over your trembling belly and breasts, until she’s wrapping her fingers around your throat.

Her grip is strong, a testament to her strength, though she doesn’t cut off your air. She simply just holds on, enjoying the display of clear power she has over you. Your head lulls back against her shoulder with a moan, the pleasure winding up like a tight coil in your gut until it becomes impossible to hold on anymore.

She presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to the soft underside of your jaw, keeping the vibrator in place even as you squirm and shake uncontrollably, your orgasm crashing over you.

“Oh, baby…” She coos, nipping at your jaw lightly. “Does that feel good? You’re cumming so hard.”

You can only gasp and whimper in response, your poor clit throbbing and swollen from the intensity of it all. She lets out a soft chuckle, finally turning off the vibrator and tossing it aside carelessly after a long moment, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind to hold you to her chest.

“My beautiful girl,” She murmurs against your neck, pressing wet kisses there as her hands rub over the smooth expanse of your tummy. “You did so good, so fucking good.” Her voice is slightly muffled against your skin, breath hot and damp.

Her hands trail down to your quivering thighs next, stroking over the flesh tenderly before one of her hands dip between them. She glides her middle and ring finger through your wet folds lightly before bringing them to her lips, humming around the digits as she tastes your pleasure. “Delicious.”

[hermaeusmorax]

What have you done?

CHARACTERS: Jayce x reader, slight Viktor x reader (more platonic!)

SUMMARY: you, Jayce and Viktor share history. You're arguing with Jayce about his actions in the Undercity. Reader is described having a metal arm!

WARNINGS: SET IN SEASON 02 EPISODE 06 SPOILERS AHEAD! this is very angsty, descriptions of death and bodies, gets steamy in the end (minors DNI!), enemies to lovers type shit (my jam!)

A/N: okay so this is my very first piece after a 4 years HIATUS (hiii haha), anyways, fucked up Hexcore!Jayce is just sooo *twirls hair*

"What have you done?" You scream as you blindly lunge towards Jayce, a random weapon tightly clutched in your hands — no doubt discarded by some, now dead, Noxian soldier. You could barely see an inch in front of you due to the surging chaos, but you were sure about Jayce, you would never mistake him, his silhouette, his scent.

It had been months since Jinx's attack on the Counsil. Months since Viktor emerged out of the Hexcore changed, taking you to Zaun with him and leaving Jayce behind. You were a chemist, Viktor's childhood best friend that stuck by him since the very beginning. You and Jayce had a brief, intense, spark. It happened before him and Mel, before it became hard to grasp his attention, being Piltover's golden star and everything. It hurt when you left him, standing at the laboratory, his pleading brown eyes boring holes into yours and Viktor's backs. But Viktor was right, your paths, your visions, had long strayed, being held together only by lasting affection.

In Zaun, at Viktor's — The Herald's — growing community, you acted as a chemist again. Helping the newly cured zaunites, researching to improve their lives as much as possible. You had been specially busy since Vander's arrival, severely mutilated by Viktor's former teacher and in desperate need of help. You were working in your makeshift lab, absent mindedly humming a familiar tune when hell broke loose.

A loud, sharp sound echoed, followed by more crashing sounds and piercing screams. Smoke rose in the air, making it almost impossible to inhale. For a split second you could hear Viktor's voice in your head whispering, "Jayce", you ran as fast as your legs permitted, desperate to locate the origin of the sound, to locate Viktor. When you finally did find them, you wished you hadn't. The starking image of his limp and dead body made your breath hitch, mind speeding so much to make sense of things it made you dizzy. Blood rushed to your ears, making a deafening ringing sound, you rubbed your eyes, squinting to adjust, then you saw another figure, a tall and dark frame.

Jayce looked, different, but your brain had no time to process that information as you grabbed the first weapon you could find thrown on the floor, lunging at him. "What did you do?" "How could you?" "I hate you!" you breathlessly shout, aiming for Jayce's head with your stray weapon, then again, you never were much of a fighter, that was Jayce's job. The last thing you heard before the world went complete black, was his voice, a cry of your name, sounding so broken and lost.

"Sorry for knocking you out like that. I hope your head's not hurting too much." you heard Jayce's soft voice, distant at first as you were regaining consciousness, then close, right at your ears. You slowly woke up, blinking the throbbing pain away you were at last able to recognize your surroundings.

Jayce had brought you to your old laboratory, right at Piltover's heart, where you had last seen him, where you had left him. You were sitting in a chair, your mechanical arm resting on the table beside you, laying alongside dirty, well-worn tools. "I fixed it. Your arm. It looked broken and I-" Jayce blurted out, stopping with a nervous chuckle when you looked at him. "My technique might not be as delicate as Viktor's but it's fixed, working. I promise!". When Viktor's name left Jayce's lips, a haunting image of his corpse flashed in your mind, compelling you to leap forward and forcefully grab Jayce's collar, gripping so tight your knuckles turned white, drained of blood. You were trembling horribly, fueled by an ugly mixture of grief and hatred, your words came out hoarse, stinging like a whip.

"You promise? Ha! You killed him Jayce! You- you just disappear and then when you finally come to us, you go and kill him? What's wrong with you? I don't know you anymore, you've become someone else entirely and I- No!" you were panting, tears angrily threatening to spill "That's too gentle for you, you're a murderer, Jayce, a monster!".

Jayce's mind was racing, spinning with the force of your words and then it finally snapped. "Shut the fuck up!" he tore your hands away from his shirt, holding your wrists and pulling you close, pressed up against his chest. "You have no idea Y/N! You can't possibly begin to understand what I was put through!" "I was in there, while you and Viktor were out here playing house!" "I kept my promise!".

Jayce's eyes were red, frantically shaking looking into your own, in desperate search of something. He was so close, you could feel his heartbeat and his breath fanning your face, his scent was attacking your nostrils mercilessly, engulfing you in his presence. Like this you could almost see the old Jayce inside there, somewhere — untainted, full of promise — the one you fell hard for. All it took was a single look from him. A single, meaningful, glance down to your mouth from his so pretty brown eyes. He was so, so close. Next thing you knew you and Jayce were in each other's arms, kissing so forcefully it almost broke skin. Kissing like your very lives depend on it, like you'll die of asphyxiation if you stop.

Jayce hoisted you up the table, sending tools and papers flying, both of you couldn't care less right now. He positioned himself in between your legs, leaning some of his body weight on you, forcing your back to meet the cold surface beneath. "Jayce!" you breathed out, talking into his mouth, gasping for air and breaking the kiss for a second too long. Your hands, firmly resting on the back of his neck, wandered to the hem of your shirt, fidgeting with it, trying to lose it. Jayce noticed and made quick work of your shirt, hurriedly sliding it over your head and tossing aside to a forgotten corner.

"Don't stop" you huffed against him again, voice dripping with want, you struggled blindly to unbuckle his belt, too busy reciprocating his fervent kisses to bother to look down. "I got you" Jayce urged, going crazy with the way your lips felt on his, even more addicting than he remembers. He reached down, tugging off your pants and underwear in one precise motion. Your senses were completely overwhelmed, all you were able to think, see, hear, smell and feel was Jayce.

You were both pouring everything into this kiss, into this very moment. Bleeding years of bottled up love and regrets into each other's systems. Even still, you harbored feelings for him, and him you. Despite the hurricane of emotions and thoughts swirling inside your head, a small, nagging voice coming from the darkest dephts of your mind, kept quietly chanting "What have you done, Y/N?"

[spxllcxstxr]

At Least in that Life • S

(Gif not mine)

Request:

Summary: Ekko finds that Silco is alive and well with his wife by his side in the alternate timeline. He feels the need to tell you about it

Warnings: fem!reader (called wife at some points), no pronouns used though I believe, canon death mention, AU mention, implied Timebomb, angsty : ) , mentions of canon unhealthiness that comes with living in the Undercity, timeline is screwy but idc and neither should you LOL

Word Count: 2.3k

A.N: listen, i know he was a little fruity with Vander in the AU BUT i still need this man desperately, don't worry about the timeline i stg, this is actually pretty sad lmao, have fun with it

•

Ekko stares at the man behind the bar; face simultaneously instantly recognizable and drastically changed. The scar was the same mangled mess across one side of his face, but that was where the similarities ended.

In his timeline, Ekko remembers Silco as a cruel bastard with only room in his heart for his wife and Jinx. He never smiled nor ever had reason to. This Silco had a glint of brightness in eyes, even in the orange mutated one, that he would've never associated with the crime lord. The boy stands there, facing the middle-aged man in front of him as he waves his goblet around, body flowing with movement; no strain evident in his posture.

He's talking, Ekko knows this, they're all speaking to him like they aren't either dead or an enemy. But they aren't--these versions of the people he once knew in his own timeline are different.

His eyes drift briefly to you, teeth bared in a smile he hasn't seen since he was a child. You look like that one day, seemingly ages ago, when you kept and eye on him, Powder, and Violet, just days before the uprising. At that point you hadn't been corrupted by the deaths of your closest friends or your husband's vile need for justice. You had a sort of youth to you, though your hair was twinged with greys like Vander's and Silco's, you were practically wrapped around his slender frame, gesturing wildly.

Life had not just been given to Vander, but to you and Silco as well.

His breath hitches and his head throbs with a sharp pain unlike any other.

Ekko squeezes his eyes shut, the vibrancy of the Anomaly imprinted on the backs of his eyelids. Distantly, he hears Powder's voice, like a song in his ear, with a type of kindness he's almost completely forgotten.

When he snaps back to reality, whatever that now meant, he was sitting at a table, away from the bar, with Powder to his right and Mylo and Claggor across from him. They watch him, expecting him to act normal, like he was meant to be here.

"I think you might actually be going crazy," Powder laughs, the sound like a sweet summer breeze as it drifts by him. Her eyes scan over him worriedly.

Ekko swallows roughly, willing the wave of sickness to pass quicker. "I--I'm fine. I think I'll just grab water or something?" Swiftly he rises from his seat, partially unbalanced. He hates that his clothes are a perfect fit and his shoes are comfortable enough he can wiggle his toes around.

He walks to the bar, the sounds of rowdy laughter and girlish giggles surrounding him. The ease of it all is overwhelming.

"What'll you have, Ekko? Your usual?"

Ekko glances at you, taking you in now that you're within arm's reach. The only sign of age are your laugh lines around the corners of your lips. Gone are the sunken, tired eyes and ghastly paleness of skin caused by the contaminated air of the Undercity. You were healthy; sure there were a few scrapes here and there, but your cheeks were filled out, Ekko noticed.

"U-usual?" He manages to croak out before the silence got too concerning.

Obviously worried, your brows furrow and lips purse. "I'll just get you a water then, huh? You're not acting like yourself." You busy yourself, bringing up a glass from the shelf at your knees.

Silco is on the other side of the bar, talking to strangers with Vander. He barks out a laugh, nothing he's ever heard before, and runs his free hand through his already ruffled hair.

The glass clinks on the wooden table in front of him, snapping him out of his trance.

"Are you sure you're ok, Ekko? You don't look so good..." You place the back of your hand to his forehead, reaching over the bartop. The coolness of your skin brings him relief, but he knows you're not going to find he has a high temperature. Physically, he was mostly fine. Mentally, however, was another story.

He thinks about how most of these people are dead men walking or empty shells of their former selves back where he's from. Ekko can't shake the empty feeling he has in his heart.

This was the way things should have been.

"So how are things with you and Silco?" He asks, ignoring your previous question as you bring your hand back to your side.

Leaning against the bar you inspect him for just a moment longer. The boy picks up his glass and almost drains it in one go, which seems to satisfy you for now.

"Me and Sil?" You glance at him quickly, face burning. "We're married, kid, we bicker and are right pricks to each other...but in the end we love each other more than anything in the world. That's how it goes." You sigh, resting your head in one of your hands thoughtfully. "Why do you ask?"

Ekko fiddles with the collar of his shirt. "He just seems so happy. Despite...everything, y'know?"

Lips tilt down slightly in a solemn frown. "It was hard for him, forgiving, that is. He thought we had to endure bloodshed to assert Zaun's rightful existence; he thought it was the only way to get Piltover to listen." Your eyes glance down to the polished wood holding you up. "It was all he knew. And after the incident...after losing our friends and his eye...it was all just a hard pill to swallow."

Silco's laugh once again echoes through the air. You smile immediately, head perking up at the mere noise of your husband. "I never thought I'd see him smile after what we lost--after Vander's wakeup call." Ekko watches as your eyes grow wet with unshed tears. "But here he is, my Silco, living the life he always dreamt of..."

"And you?" Ekko shifts from side to side, feet shuffling below him.

"What about me?" You ask, willing the tears away, busying yourself with wiping the countertop between the two of you.

"Are you happy as well?"

For a moment, you pause, pondering the weight of his question. Ekko, the boy you've come to treat as your son, the boy you trust your Powder with, looks at you like you're not quite right. His eyes gaze into your soul with an intensity that's hard to decipher.

Little moments from your life flash before your eyes; swaying to music with Silco in your kitchen as dinner cooks on the stovetop, you and Vander venturing into Piltover to get more supplies for the bar, Silco's soft gaze and his warm lips against your skin.

"I never thought I could ever be this happy." You tell him truthfully, voice just slightly above a whisper.

Something breaks in his eyes, in his demeanor, but he nods anyway. Something wasn't right--that much was obvious, but before you're able to pick his brain he leaves you at the bar, almost sprinting back to Powder and his friends. She greets him with a smile but her fingers twitch nervously under the table.

With a huff you attend to the other patrons at the bar, occasionally catching Ekko's eye as you walk around your space. He watches you and Silco work in tandem like husband and wife. Even with Ekko's mind already severely overwhelmed with the world around him, he notices when your fingertips purposefully brush when handing glassware over to the other and the small kisses that accompany some flirtatious or loving remark. His head spins and senses buzz with the overload of what could have been.

He leaves without saying goodbye to you or Silco, thought you do call out to him before he exits, you, wrapped in Silco's arms.

"I don't know how to tell you this--or even if I should tell you this." Ekko sits in front of you, tinkering with his hoverboard. Jinx stands feet away, quietly eavesdropping while glancing over blueprints she probably already knows by heart. "But Jinx said you might wanna know."

With a frown already etched into your face, you raise your eyebrows at him. You hadn't spoken to Ekko in years especially since Vander's betrayal of your husband and Vi's abandonment of Jinx. But with Piltover and Zaun under attack, he requested your presence with the Firelights. You parted ways with your husband's right hand man Sevika, hoping that you would see each other again, but predicting that that simply wasn't realistic.

"Just spit it out, kid." You reply, exhaustion lacing your words. Fatigue had infiltrated deep in your bones; Silco's death had taken a large toll on you--you were the last of you little makeshift family alive, though Vander was dead to you long before his final breath left his body.

You were quite the contrast to you counterpart in the alternate timeline. Ekko knew this before, but the accentuated frown lines and lifelessness that surrounded your very being just hit him full force.

He takes a deep breath, cautious of how you were going to react. "I went to an alternate timeline and Silco was alive there." Ekko forces out in one breath.

You stare blankly at the boy, your mind somehow not registering what he was saying.

"That was my reaction too..." Jinx murmurs, her voices echoing in the vastness of her metal lair.

A wave of vertigo washes over you, submerging you in its depths. It's hard to breathe. But somehow you will yourself to stay calm in present company. Now was not the time to be weak.

"An alternate timeline?" You manage to ask weakly, drawing your arms closer to your chest and uneasily wrap them around your frame.

"Don't even ask me to explain it because I don't think I could," Ekko chuckles humorlessly. "But it was a timeline where Zaun and Piltover were at peace, where you could openly cross the bridge and not worry about what would happen to you. Zaun and Piltover thrived together."

You scoff at the notion, shaking your head in disbelief. "Are you sure this wasn't a dream?"

"No. This was real." Ekko's deep brown eyes gaze into yours, something painful swimming in his irises. He's different from the boy you once knew; he's seen something, dealt with something he had lost--had to leave behind. The seriousness laced in his tone convinces you.

You nod, indicating that he can continue as you pick at your nails. You try to brace yourself for whatever he's about to say, but you can't. There was no way to predict what was going to come out of his mouth. But the thought of Silco being alive somewhere kills you inside; your stomach churns and your heart aches for your one and only.

Ekko only sighs before explaining to you what he saw, occasionally pausing to recollect his thoughts or add another component onto his hoverboard.

He tells you about the Silco that could have been--should have been--yours. How his laughter filled the already boisterous main room of The Last Drop, how when a certain song played he would drop everything just to twirl you around behind the bar. Ekko described the brightness of his once clouded eyes and the genuine smile that was always present on his face. Your love was so palpable wherever the two of you went.

Powder confessed once, he told you, while looking over countless notes and equations late at night, that if she were to ever get married, she would want exactly what you and Silco had.

Ekko has you clinging onto each sentence trying to savor each and every word as if you were on your deathbed. You try to picture him in your mind, the greying tousled hair, healthy figure, and tendency to smile. The images are faint against the darkness of your eyelids, blurry from the passage of time.

"He's happy?" You ask quietly.

Ekko nods.

"And am I--Is she happy?" You ask again, stuttering at the thought that this person was not you. You were not the one sharing these intimate moments with your husband; these were strangers, who you could've been.

Again, Ekko nods silently, eyes cast downwards.

You feel your bottom lip start to tremble and tears fight to escape and fall down your cheeks. The lump in your throat grows bigger.

What could've been had haunted you ever since Vander's attack on Silco. It had loomed over you and your husband and suffocated you after his death. To know it was so much sweeter than you ever could have imagined...

Your breathing is uneven when Ekko finally stops talking; other than your labored breath the room was silent. You attempt to collect your thoughts and your emotions but they keep slipping through the cracks between your fingers.

"I shouldn't have told you..." Ekko mutters, apologetically. Eyes swimming with pity, he lays a comforting paint-stained hand on your shoulder. Behind him, Jinx stares blankly down at her boots.

"No it's ok, kid." You sigh, willing away the waves of tears threatening to spill over. "It was good to hear."

"Really?" He looks at you, unconvinced.

"It's good to know that me and Silco get a happy life, y'know?" Your attempt at a small smile partially works, but Ekko can still see the distraught written so clearly all over your face. "One where we can smile and laugh and live. If it couldn't be here, I'm happy it was at least in another lifetime."

Ekko helps you stand, still concerned for you.

With an uneven sigh you turn away from Ekko and Jinx who watch you intently, projects forgotten on the floor or scattered across a small table.

"I need some air." You tell them, ambling slowly to the exit, hoping for the cool polluted air to swallow you whole.

•

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Hiii, loved to see that you a writing for arcane again. Tbh I just loved Isha and Jinx, so could could you make headcanons for how Jinx, Vi and Cait would be like taking care of or rising a kid with a girlfriend or s/o?

Sure I can! I don’t want he post to be huge though so I’ll break it up into three separate ones! Enjoy!

Family Bound

Raising or looking after a kid was not easy by any means, but taking care of one with Jinx was even harder

Jinx does not know how to be a paternal figure, or an older sibling kind of figure

She has really bad experiences with the only ones she’s ever known, so how was she supposed to fix that with some kid she’s not even related to?

But, for your sake, I feel like jinx loves you enough to try

If the kid was your sibling, I feel like she would be more reserved and distant from the child

In some way you and your little sibling remind her of herself and Vi when they were young and it’s not a good thing

She’s only able to take care of the kid once she separated those two things and finally able to bond with the kid

It takes a lot of time and patience from you for Jinx to be able to bond with the kid

If y’all found the kiddo, I feel like it would be easier for her to take care of it more than it being your sibling

When she does come around, Jinx can be very protective of the kid

She’s more the parent that doesn’t discipline and lets the kid get away with stuff, which causes some behavioral issues and arguments between you two cause that’s not really a good thing

So she has to learn from you how to take care of the child

She teaches the kid lots of things like how to invent gadgets, to make sure they work, how to protect yourself, and lots of other things like that

On more positive notes:

You’re the main bridge between the two so when they’re left alone together, they have no clue what to do or how to bond

But you do find little bits and pieces of a genuine bond forming between the two

You see the little smile Jinx wears when she finds genuine joy in taking care of them

She wonders how anyone could abandon their child or harm them when the one she takes care of with you is so beautifully innocent and childlike

In a way the kid heals the inner child and the Powder still inside of Jinx

She takes care of them in the way she wished Silco or Vi was

And she understands them in a way not even you can, especially if they show signs that Powder and Jinx did when she was young

She likes goofing off with the kid, and she likes playing around with them

You’ve found them roughhousing and giggling more times than you could count

and you’ve found them testing out bombs, which only happens when it’s in a safe place and a safe distance away

Jinx would never intentionally harm your guys’ child

She loves them so much that sometimes it’s scary to see how attached she has become

She doesn’t know what she would do if anything happened to you or the kid

She doesn’t ever wanna scare them, which has only happpened once

Jinx was having a freak out after everything has happened, probably after Vi was found to be an enforcer or after their fight

She was going through it, yelling, breaking things and crying and screaming

She didn’t notice how scared your guys’ child was until they started crying

Jinx felt her heart break, and even if she was ashamed of doing it, she ran out

She didn’t know how to handle the gaf she scare them so much

She was gone for a while and when she came back she was visibly distant

It took a lot of patience and reassurance for her to come back around the kid without being hesitant about every move

But the kid loved her, and when she saw your child was more sad about the fact she was gone, it broke her heart and almost healed it at the same time

She doesn’t know what she would do if they feared her badly

She loves coloring with the little girl or boy, and she likes helping them figure out outfits

She likes running around the lanes with them, or going to the old hideout

The two also love messing with Sevika as the woman has now joined your little mini family

Jinx and the kid often pass out together, both on the ground or wherever and limbs tangled and snoring with drool on the corners of their lips

Which means you have to carry both to bed a lot of the time

Jinx loves. Showing he kid to invent, and how to fight and everything

She loves seeing the sparkle in the kids eye when she shows them fireworks and anything Jinx

She and the kid have a bond you don’t know how to describe

She also doesn’t try to keep the fact of who she is and the things she’s done a secret from the child

Sometimes she can be harsh, but it’s from a space of love even if the kid gets hurt feelings

She always makes up for it though

[abysstrap-ran]

❖ Piltover Winters (Jayce/Viktor Headcanons)

A/N: I realize I always come back to writing around xmas. Erm, anyway. Have you guys seen Savior Viktor??? Delicious. *I don’t actually know if it snows in PnZ but it’s December so let’s live a little.

❖ Viktor

If you're cold, chances are he's freezing too because of how cold he usually runs.

Will forget his scarf. Sometimes, in his work-induced haze, he also forgets that he's not dressed for the weather and walks out of the lab only to get blasted in the face by the sheer COLD, grumbling and sniffling as he retreats back inside. Hence, he appreciates the heater and the fireplace in his academy-funded apartment very much.

While he might not be the biggest fan of the winter chill, he’s amazed by snow since it never reaches the part of the Undercity where he grew up.

Give Viktor a cup of hot chocolate, and his eyes will light up. He won’t admit it, and very few know about it, but much like his love for sweetmilk, he is very much a fan of hot chocolate. However, he doesn’t opt for it too often because its sweetness will irritate his throat, so he takes it every once in a while. He’ll be in a good mood the whole day if he does get a cup, something that Jayce capitalizes on if only to see him smile.

This man can not get up in the mornings, preferring to burrow deeper into the blankets or closer to a heat source where it's warm and toasty. You’ll have to drag him out or coax him out with a cup of hot beverage.

His body does him no favors in this department. The ever-bearing cold makes his joints ache worse, so it’s safe to say that his leg does not like him very much.

Once he gets the back brace, the screws permanently etched onto his spine will hurt, especially in the deep of winter. He’s gotten used to it to a degree, but sometimes it renders him somewhat immobile. It is also hard to navigate through snow with a crutch. This is why you’ll almost never find him outside during the winter months, though that hasn’t changed much from the past. Even if he has to go outside for some godforsaken reason, he’ll make them short and snappy trips at best, or send Jayce, who would be more than happy to do so, in his place.

❖ Jayce

Snow is not his forte, considering how he nearly died in a blizzard as a child. But, it has grown on him slowly over time. Though, you won’t find him outside when the snowfall turns heavy.

He may not show it, but he loves the seasonal festivities. He fondly remembers hitting the attractions and festivals with Caitlyn back when they were both younger, and would sometimes do the same again, if only for the nostalgic factor.

The man of progress might be busy, but Jayce the present-giver works doubly hard. You may barely see him out of his lab, but he’ll make the time, sometimes out of thin air, to get everyone presents.

Coat? What is a coat? This guy’s a furnace, he’s fine (not really) but he will claim he’s fine if you ask. Will happily let anyone he's close to cling to him for his warmth, or laugh and give them his scarf so now they're like a two-scarf coat rack. Paints a rather funny picture to be bundled up in an abundance of scarves.

Probably has to participate in a lot of winter social events due to the council. Dutiful as he is, Jayce will attend those societal gatherings, but you bet he'd whine the next person's ear off by the time he's dragged to his mandatory 3rd dinner/gala or something similar along those lines. Sometimes, if he gets bored, he sneaks back to the lab when no one's noticing… until Heimerdinger pops up when he least expects it. “There's a time and place for innovation, my boy! But tonight's a night for the outdoors, don't you think?”

Will oftentimes be the first one up in the mornings because he knows he has a packed schedule and he'd better get up or else. When he doesn't get up due to it being a lazier day, he'll hog ALL the blankets, curling into a ball and going back for another snooze, much to your chagrin.

[somedaylazysomeday]

Good Intentions Part Twenty-Seven

The fallout from Silco's most recent stunt sends shockwaves through the Haven... but not as much as his latest attempt to ensnare you.

Ongoing Silco x fem!reader fic (no reader description, no use of 'Y/N')

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5,900

Warnings: Drug mentions, mentions of addiction and relapse, mentions of poisoning, innuendo, unprotected sex, restraints, emotional conversations, references to Silco's operations in Arcane Season One

Previous | Next | Masterlist

---

The fallout from Silco’s stunt kept the Haven occupied for almost a month. 

Not only had he leaked Shimmer into the streets, he had ordered his distributors to offer it at one-third the usual price. Anyone who wasn’t fully recovered had been unable to refuse an offer like that, and the patient relapses you’d seen in the neighborhood had numbered in the triple digits.

The only thing that had kept you going was that the neighborhood had poured out support for the Haven. Jazper and Ronid had come by with two additional doctors, hired temporarily to help assist with the recovery efforts. The other members of the Undercity Innovation Committee had donated other things: enough food to support the Haven without sparing volunteers for kitchen duty, free electrical and maintenance work, help writing grant proposals, and some extra donation money. 

Even people who had nothing to do with governing the Undercity had reached out to support the Haven, doing everything from clearing rubble from the entrance to guarding the building at night. 

It was humbling, and you worked around the clock to take care of everyone who had chosen to keep fighting their addiction. 

Fortunately for both the Haven and the struggles of its patients, Silco’s Shimmer sale seemed to have been an isolated incident. The dealers had been pulled from the area and no one had seen them since that fateful night. It didn’t speed the recovery of the people who had been impacted, but it helped reduce the number of people who came in needing help. 

An unexpected downside to Silco’s new, self-imposed business limitations was that he was doing his best to start communicating with you again. 

Every day, you found a letter waiting outside of your door. More often than not, you found a different letter waiting on your desk at the end of the day. You had briefly started avoiding your office, but the envelopes appeared on your pillow. 

No matter how many people you asked, no one admitted to delivering letters for Silco. Clearly, he had someone at the Haven who was willing to do some work on his behalf. The problem was that you had no idea how to figure out who it was. There were more unfamiliar faces in the Haven than familiar ones, these days, and it wasn’t as if you could start turning people away on suspicion that they were working for the head Chem Baron himself. 

You suspected that Silco wanted to meet. It was only a suspicion, since you refused to read any of the letters. You didn’t know who was delivering them, so it wasn’t as if you could send them back to him unopened to make your point. You settled for burning them, leaving enough for whoever was sneaking into your office to see that you had never opened a single envelope.

But at last, the number of patients began to dwindle. Having beaten their Shimmer addictions back for the moment, people left the Haven. Some of them came back to work with other patients or to volunteer on a more permanent basis. That helped, but you were still relieved when the number of patients from the surprise Shimmer release returned to the single digits. 

The day your borrowed doctors left the Haven was the day you finally relaxed. The remainder of the patients were in the final stages of their withdrawal and actively working toward recovery. Things were wrapping up nicely, but there was also the benefit of having fewer people in the Haven who could be delivering Silco’s letters. 

And yes, you did feel bad about counting that as a benefit. 

You stopped by your office that night, tired almost beyond reason. Perhaps that was the reason you were filled with near-rage at the sight of the envelope on your desk. 

You snatched it up from the desk, but your hands refused to obey your commands from there. Instead of flinging it into the fireplace, they ripped it open and pulled the page free. Silco’s angular writing was difficult to read in the shivering light of the fire, but you managed. 

My dearest philanthropist, 

I would say that I have given up all hope of you reading my letters, but I know two things: firstly, that you are insatiably curious. If you were not, I believe our association would not have lasted nearly so long as it has. 

Secondly, and more importantly, you know that I would not reach out idly. Surely you know me well enough by now to suspect that I would make an offer. 

Of course, you would have recognized far earlier than this that I was interested in bargaining with you, but it has been reported to me that you have yet to open a single one of my letters. 

Before I propose any further deals, I will assume you are still upset about your lost opportunity to work for Piltover. Have you not yet realized that I acted as I did as a favor to you? Piltover has never worked toward any ends that did not benefit them directly. It is likely that they would have positioned you as a scapegoat when their task force failed… and it would have. 

In any case, you would have lost your reputation in the Undercity as surely as you believe it has suffered across the river. The recovery of a reputation in Zaun is a far longer and more arduous process than it is in Piltover. 

I find myself rambling in this letter, and I blame you. With no guarantee of when you will finally open one of my messages, I am forced to write from somewhere softer than my mind. Perhaps not my heart, but somewhere nearer its vicinity than I am accustomed. 

Allow me to make my offer before this letter grows still longer: come to The Last Drop. I want to discuss terms with you face-to-face. For my end of the deal, I will vow to keep Shimmer from ever entering the Haven’s neighborhood again. You can decide what you are willing to give in exchange. 

I hope to see you soon, sweetheart.

- Silco 

You stared at the page long after you had finished reading. You didn’t trust Silco’s offer - not in the slightest. But if there was a chance you could keep Shimmer off of the streets permanently, wouldn’t you be far more foolish not to look into it? 

That was what had gotten you into this mess, and the one before it, and the one before that, but what was your alternative? If there was any hope you could help someone, how could you refuse to take the risk? Even if you were the one who would suffer if that hope turned out to be false. 

You didn’t burn the envelope. Not because you were tired, or feeling sentimental. If you were going to show up at The Last Drop, you were going to make sure Silco knew you were coming. Whoever was leaving the envelopes had clearly told him that they were going unread. With any luck, they would report back to him that you had read this one. 

Silco would know what it meant. 

You slept soundly that night, dreams held at bay for the first time in well over a week. The plan had been formulated, and there was nothing left to do until the following day. 

Just after ten the next morning, you left the Haven. Okkan had wanted to come with you, but you had assured him and Fletcher that you were fine. Yi was sleeping after her late guard shift; she would have been much more difficult to convince. 

The Lanes were quiet, as they always were in the morning. In the weak midmorning light, you could almost consider them peaceful. Fortunately, you also weren’t stupid, so you kept your guard up to avoid any enterprising and motivated pickpockets deciding to practice their craft first-thing in the morning. 

The door to The Last Drop was unlocked, and you let yourself in without a fuss. If the unlocked door hadn’t convinced you that Silco knew you were coming, the sight of the main bar would have. 

The mismatched tables and chairs that typically filled the space in front of the bar had been cleared away. Instead, there was a small table draped with a white tablecloth and topped with a small flower arrangement. Chairs sat on either side of the table, angled so that neither had its back to the main door. 

“Good morning,” Silco greeted, walking around the bar. 

He looked incredibly… domestic. His sleeves were rolled up so he could carry a silver tray with a cover on it. You watched dumbly as he set the tray on the table, worried for a moment that it would hold a severed head or something equally horrifying, but he removed the cover to reveal breakfast. 

The plates, both bearing your favorite breakfast - when had he found that out? - were placed in front of either seat, while a smaller dish of pastries ended up beside the flowers. Silco tucked the tray and the cover behind the bar and rejoined you.

“Do not worry,” he told you with a smile. “I remember that you do not trust the food I offer you. You choose your preferred seat and I will gladly sample everything first so you know it is trustworthy.” 

You frowned for a moment, wracking your mind for what he could be talking about. At last, a shadowy memory appeared, one in which you were waiting for your first meeting with Silco. You hadn’t touched the food he had sent out for you. Apparently, he was determined that the same thing wouldn’t happen again. 

You took a seat, watching as Silco sat opposite you. He cut a bite of food, checking to be sure that you were watching him. 

“You don’t need to do that,” you told him quietly. He paused, eyes searching your face intently. “If you were going to kill me, you would just kill me. Poison isn’t really your style.” 

Silco’s smile faded. “I would prefer that you trust me because I have proven myself trustworthy, but I suppose that is a point well-made. Poison has never been a favorite tool of mine, and never one I would deploy against you.” 

You hummed skeptically and took a bite of your breakfast without further comment. 

“If I may,” Silco said, breaking the silence that had fallen between the two of you, “what drove you to open one of my letters?” 

You pondered the question, taking a sip of water before offering your answer. “I’m not really sure. Maybe I just hoped you had something worthwhile to say.” 

Silco’s polite smile turned to something sharper. “And I assume, from your presence here, that you were satisfied?” 

The way he purred ‘satisfied’ wreaked havoc on your body, not least because your psyche had decided that now was the perfect time to play back all of the hyper-realistic dreams you’d had about him over the past month. 

With any luck, none of that was showing on your face. “Maybe I’m just curious to see what price you plan to ask in exchange for keeping Shimmer off of the streets.” 

Silco’s face grew serious once more. “I meant what I wrote. You name what you are willing to give for it.” 

“Last time, you had a specific price in mind,” you remarked, half-hoping for another smirk. 

Silco didn’t take the bait. “I mean for this to be a negotiation, one taking place between two equal parties. You name your offer and I will decide if it is fair.” 

A distinct throb between your thighs let you know that your libido would be thrilled to make the same deal as you had last time. Your brain warned that it was a bad idea, but that voice was growing steadily quieter under the flood of lust surging through your body.

It would be easier, you realized, if Silco just wanted your body. If you could narrow down what he wanted to something as simple and limited as the option to fuck you a few times a month. 

But in the light of your newly realized feelings, you couldn't ignore that he hadn't done that. Silco hadn't given any hint of what he might want from you, but he also hadn't limited you to making offers based on physical pleasure. 

It was so much worse. You would rather keep yourself from having any hope at all rather than risk everything for the slim possibility that he felt a shadow of what you did. 

You set your fork down, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You had come here for a purpose - to keep Shimmer away from the Haven. It didn't matter if doing that meant denying yourself. You were used to that. The important thing was helping people. That was all that had ever been important. 

“If we want this to be a business discussion, maybe we should go to your office,” you suggested. Silco watched you blankly, and you expanded, “I've seen you do quite a bit of business and none of it ever happened in an empty bar.”

“Would you care to finish your breakfast first?” Silco asked. 

Your stomach was right with nerves, with fear that you wouldn't be able to come to an agreement with him. Even the few bites you had taken were sitting heavily. 

You shook your head. “Not unless you need the time to finish yours.” 

Silco stood immediately. “Unnecessary. Follow me.” 

You were amused despite yourself as you followed Silco to his office. It wasn't as if you hadn't been there before - you knew the way. But if he wanted to lead, there was something more to it. Maybe he just wanted to prove that he was willing to have you at his back. 

Silco’s office was precisely the same as it had been the last time you were there. The desk spoke of the messy mind and busy life of someone doing his best to rule a city. The wicked-looking lance he used for his eye was kept carefully behind the desk, but it was softened slightly by the neon doodles on the handle. The furniture was just as austere as ever, though it was less intimidating when you could vividly remember every time you had been sprawled naked across each surface. 

Somehow, it felt like home, and that made your stomach tighten reflexively with nerves.

Silco sat behind his desk, motioning for you to sit across from him. When you did, he folded his hands on the desk’s surface, fixing you with a mismatched stare. “If you prefer to get straight to business, let us do so. What are you willing to give me in exchange for the Haven’s neighborhood remaining free of Shimmer?” 

You smiled mirthlessly. “I have nothing you want.” 

“I wouldn’t go that far, my dear,” Silco said, openly admiring you. 

The exchange was familiar, a faint echo of the conversation that had started you both on this path. There was a gleam in Silco’s eyes, a fond reminiscence that made you want to smile at him in earnest. 

But you gathered your willpower and shook your head. “We can’t make that deal again, remember? When you came to the Haven last month, you said that was the only chance to resume our original deal. I turned you down.”

“I could be persuaded to make an exception.” 

You arched a brow. “Really? This would be the first time I’ve ever seen it. Why?” 

“I miss you,” he admitted openly. When you frowned, he leaned toward you. “No lies or manipulations - I have missed you. I have felt your absence every day since we ended our meetings.”

“You missed me, so you released Shimmer outside of the Haven?” you asked, wincing at the open hurt in your voice. “You missed me so badly that the only thing you could do was try to destroy everything I’ve worked toward for the past few years of my life?” 

“I had to-” Silco broke off with a rueful laugh. “I had to give you a reason to come back to me.” 

You gaped. “So you-?” 

Silco raised his hand, cutting off your protestations. “No, pet, let me say this. I need to, and I need you to listen. And if you still hate me afterward, I will let you live in peace. No more Shimmer and no more contact with me, I give you my word.” 

After a moment of consideration, you sat back in your chair and motioned for him to continue. 

With a deep breath, he did. “I know you have no need for me. Everything I provided for you, you are well capable of getting for yourself. You have managed without my security team, you found support for your Haven that has nothing to do with my donations, and you stood against Shimmer sales in the area. You have built a fine enterprise. I- I have nothing to offer you anymore.”

“So I had to resort to underhanded dealings.” Silco shook his head with a rueful little smile. “Perhaps you do not realize how well the Haven withstood my Shimmer. I pulled my dealers, but they were far less profitable than I had expected. I would have withdrawn them regardless. I did regret my actions, but they were born of desperation. You wouldn’t agree to a new deal, and I realized how capable you are even without assistance from me. ”

Silco pressed his hands against the desk’s surface, making grim eye contact with you. “I hoped that I could push you into answering me. More than that, I hoped to force you into making another deal with me, into seeing that you could not survive down here without my protection. I was wrong. You have made a place for yourself here and - more importantly - you have found a way to care for the people of Zaun. I see what you have done to change and shape their lives and it has forced me to accept what I have known for months: I am yours.” 

The kind thing would be to say something in reply to that revelation. You wanted to, but it was so far from anything you had expected him to say that you couldn’t do anything but gape at him. Silco’s gaze stayed trained on your face, but there was a tightness around his eyes and mouth that spoke of nervousness. 

“If-” You broke off to clear your throat, trying to make your voice sound less waveringly uncertain. “If you aren’t being sincere, please don’t say that. Don’t joke about it or use it to manipulate me. Please.” 

“Manipulate you?” Silco repeated, sounding irritated. “Pet, you don’t seem to understand that I have done the very opposite. I have given you the keys to everything I can offer. I have given you the simplest possible way to manipulate me.” 

“I wouldn’t,” you assured him instantly. He lifted a brow and you repeated, “I wouldn’t.”

“And why wouldn’t you?” he asked. “You could everything you wanted without being required to give anything in return-”

“Because I care about you, Silco,” you snapped. 

Immediately afterward, a deathly silence fell in the office and you leapt to your feet. There was nothing to do but leave after that. 

You didn’t make it even halfway to the door before Silco caught your arm, holding you steady as he stared down into your face. 

“If you are being insincere, please don’t say that.” You might have thought he was mocking you if he hadn’t looked so terribly concerned.

“Silco, why would I possibly lie about that?” you asked. “If you’re right and you’ve given me everything, why would I lie about my feelings? To not use the keys you gave me?” 

“You-” It wasn’t often that you saw Silco thrown off his game, but he seemed to struggle to find the right words. “You love me?” 

Strictly speaking, neither of you had said anything about love. But in the privacy of your thoughts, you had realized weeks ago that your feelings for Silco had run deeper than you had ever assumed. There was no other reason you would still care about him after everything he had done. 

Besides, you had already come this far. 

“Yes.” 

Silco was studying you with the stunned, slightly suspicious look of a mad scientist watching a successful experiment and you were starting to think this entire meeting had been a mistake. 

“Maybe we should-” 

Your suggestion was left forever unfinished as Silco kissed you suddenly, deeply, and with such fierceness that it took your breath away. When your lungs were screaming, you pushed him away. He didn’t go far, staying close enough that you could feel his rapid breathing across your kiss-swollen lips. 

“Feels like we should talk about this.” 

Silco chuckled against your neck. “I can think of several more productive ways we could spend our time…” 

Everything in your body voiced a sudden and vehement opinion that Silco was right, and that sounded like a much better idea. You lifted your face for another kiss and Silco was quick to indulge you. 

The next few minutes were a bit of a blur. There was kissing and touching and the marvelous scent of Silco - how could you have missed one person so much? - and when it was over, you were lying naked on his bed. Silco was finishing stripping off his own clothes, eyes already devouring you with a predatory eagerness that probably should have scared you. 

When he was as bare as you, Silco joined you on the bed. He was on top of you almost immediately, kissing every bit of skin he could reach and exploring the rest with his wandering hands. You arched against him, fighting for as much contact as possible. It was like your body was drinking him in, soaking up everything you had been missing out on since your deal had been on pause. 

Silco’s fingers were even more dextrous than you remembered, plying your flesh and molding you still closer. If there was a breath of space between you, it was only so that he could sneak a touch into that same spot. You felt like you were on fire, but it only drove you to kiss him with more desperation. 

When you couldn’t stand it anymore, you reached down and took his length in a firm grip. The heat of him throbbed in your hand and Silco’s natural eye went heavy-lidded. He leaned forward to press another kiss to your lips, pulling away just far enough to whisper, “Missed you, pet.” 

It reminded you so strongly of the vivid dreams you had experienced that you nipped his lip to see if he would react like a real person. If you were dreaming again, you would be incredibly disappointed…

Silco pulled back with a garbled curse before plundering your mouth, delivering a wicked pinch to your hip at the same time. He took full advantage of your gasp to deepen the kiss even further. 

Without any clear thought or plan, you tightened your legs around his narrow hips and rolled, forcing him to the mattress while you straddled him from above. Your hands moved back down to his cock, teasing the head of it against the throbbing point of your clit. 

Silco bared his chipped teeth up at you. “You’re killing me, lovely.” 

“Can’t- mmmm… Can’t help it,” you babbled. “Feel so good…”

You bucked mindlessly on top of him until both of you were thoroughly slicked up and aching, but you couldn’t tear yourself away from the sensation long enough to line yourself up with him. 

That horrible, shining thread of tension broke for both of you at the same moment. Silco’s eyes narrowed and his fingers dug into your hips, lifting just as you planted your feet to do the same. 

Despite your best joint efforts, you weren’t properly aligned and the two of you slid against each other awkwardly. Silco growled while you let out what could only be termed a whine, but the frustration seemed to sharpen your concentration. The second time you tried to impale yourself on him, your breath caught at the feeling of his head notched against your entrance. 

Then you were lowering yourself and Silco was thrusting upward and he slid home with a teeth-rattling slam. If there was anyone else in The Last Drop, they would have heard your cry. It bounced off the high ceiling, echoing back to you in a cacophony of ecstasy that only drove you and Silco higher. 

If you had thought grinding against Silco felt wonderful, it was nothing compared to the tremendous depth of pleasure you felt at having him so deeply inside of you. All you could do was lift and lower, fucking yourself on him as Silco’s hands took some of your weight and tried to speed your movements. 

The slap of flesh meeting flesh was loud in the room, almost drowning out the shaking breaths that you and Silco were panting. His thumb found your clit, drawing a quick circle before he pressed down against the sensitive nerve cluster. It made you tighten desperately around him and Silco swore vividly. 

Of course, that didn’t stop him from repeating the torment. 

“I’m going- going to-” Your voice was far beyond breathy. It was almost reedy with the effort it was taking to stave off your impending orgasm.

Silco groaned, loud and hoarse. “Been dreaming about the way you feel when you come around my cock. Come for me, darling. Show me everything I’ve been missing.”

As if he had some sort of direct line into your nerves, the muscles of your core started to flutter and spasm, constricting around him like you were going to collapse in on yourself. 

That was more true than you realized. If there was ever a person in your life who felt like a black hole, it was Silco. Mysterious and fascinating and utterly unknowable. It was a strange series of thoughts to have during an orgasm, but your mind was locked into it by that point. Silco was such an outsized presence in your life, and to think that he loved you… well, it was almost beyond what your mind could comprehend. 

Then your mind went fuzzy and you didn’t have to worry about comprehending anything anymore. All that was left was pleasure and heat and the feeling of Silco fucking upward into you with every bit of force he could muster. He buried himself deep as he came, spreading more heat through your core and dripping out to smear between you. 

When your shaking thighs refused to hold you up any longer, you collapsed forward and onto his chest. Silco held you there, arms tight around you as you both caught your breath, then rolled you gently to one side so he could curl himself against your back. 

“I cannot believe you exist,” he murmured, tracing a tickling line over your temple. “And the idea that you love me… it is impossible.” 

You smiled despite yourself. “I feel the same way about you loving me.” 

He kissed your fingertips, humming softly as he folded your hand into his. 

Eventually, the flood of hormones receded enough for you to think clearly. “Silco? What does this-? Do we-? What, exactly, does this change?” 

Silco chuckled softly, and you felt the warmth of it against the nape of your neck. “As much or little as you’d like, pet. The Haven will be under my protection, but I can be as subtle about it as you’d like. And there will be no Shimmer in the neighborhood.” 

You thought that over for a while. The idea of Silco having a hand in the Haven again made you a little uncomfortable, but more for appearance’s sake than any real concern. And the majority of people had already proven that their morals were performative - you were horrible and the Haven was worthless… until they needed something. 

In the end, you relaxed against Silco. “This city isn’t going to know what hit it.” 

Silco laughed - a genuine, happy sound totally unlike the sardonic smirks you usually saw from him. “Too true, my little philanthropist. You and I united will be a force unlike anything they’ve ever seen.”

“I have a few ideas on where to start,” you confided, eyelids drooping with weariness. 

“I do, as well,” Silco agreed. “In fact, I’ve already begun the preparations for our final push for freedom.” 

You hummed, nearly asleep already. Silco pressed a kiss to the curve of your shoulder and you stirred yourself back to wakefulness. “Hmm? You have a final push worked out?” 

“Of course.” Silco sounded affectionately amused, as if it was adorable that you thought he would do anything without planning it fully. “I’ve hired a scientist to work out the details. He tells me the final product will take a few years to develop, but we have the time. We can continue our improvements to Zaun until then.” 

You were fully awake by that point, frowning blankly at the far wall. “Wait…” With some effort, you wiggled around until you were facing Silco directly. “You’ve hired someone to work on… what? What is this product? Sounds like you already have some things set in stone.” 

“Not quite, darling,” Silco assured you. “Just putting some pieces in place. I’ll still need to work out the final plan. In fact, I would welcome your help with that.”

“Okay, but say I want some of the details now,” you pushed. “What product are you having developed?” 

He sighed, rolling back on the pillow to stare up at the ceiling. “Very well, since you are so interested… It is a compound, similar to Shimmer in some ways, but not addictive. Not in the slightest.” 

Your hum was distinctly skeptical. “But what does it do?” 

“It mimics the increased adrenaline and reduced pain reception of the user,” Silco explained. “The adrenaline allows the user to push their body past many natural limits. They will accomplish incredible things.” 

You tensed, fighting the urge to sit upright. “So it turns people into super soldiers. But what about after the effects have subsided? Are there negative health impacts? And even if it isn’t chemically addictive, people can become obsessed with feeling like they have that kind of power.”

“It isn’t addictive because the user rarely survives,” Silco said, finally looking at you once more. You flinched, and he cupped your cheek. “This is precisely why I wished to spare you the details. You have a the ideals of a dreamer, despite your willingness to fight for a good cause.” 

“You’re planning to have people take a drug that will probably kill them.” You shook your head slowly. “What cause could be worth that? Scaring Piltover?” 

“No, I have no use for frightening them,” Silco said, grimacing. “They are fearful enough already. My soldiers would be dispensed to fight off guards, infiltrate the city, and clear the way to the Piltover Council.” 

“And-” Your pulse was thundering so hard that your voice shook with it. “And when you get to the Council?” 

“I kill them all, of course.” 

You gaped at that, horrified by the casual ease of his answer. Silco seemed oblivious to your feelings, kissing and nipping along the sensitive skin of your throat. 

“Silco, you can’t do that,” you said, gently pushing him away.

He blinked at you, the beginnings of irritation growing on his face. “And why, precisely, can I not?” 

“Because you can’t take Piltover by force!” 

“No, I cannot,” Silco agreed, a sly smile growing on his face. “Not yet, at least. But the initial trials are more than promising.”

“This isn’t an option,” you argued. “You’ll do even more harm if you come in by attacking the Council and using drugged soldiers as your muscle.” 

A muscle ticced in Silco’s jaw, and you changed your tone to a logical one instead. “Think of it this way: if you take the city by force, you’ll hold it for a while. You’re clever and you have the ability to draw followers. But if you present yourself as a powerful enemy, the people will combine forces to fight  against you. They will always see you as an invader to repel. You’ll never manage to quell the resistance to Zaun.” 

“Have you already forgotten that I’ll have an army powered by one of the most potent substances ever developed in this city?” Silco asked archly. 

“You’ll have a single-use army,” you countered. “And as more and more of them sacrifice themselves for this war, you’ll have fewer and fewer supporters willing to fight for you.” 

“Then I’ll make it so they have no choice but to fight for me,” Silco bit out. 

You furrowed your brows, studying him more intensely than you had since you first met. There was nothing but resolve in his expression, and you knew without further questioning that you wouldn’t change his mind. He was going to destroy Piltover - and, in doing so, he would destroy any hope for the nation of Zaun. 

With a sigh, you tossed back the covers he had tucked over you and made to rise from the bed. 

Silco caught at your wrist, pinning it to the mattress. “Where are you going?” 

“I’m not going to convince you to change your plan, and you’re not going to convince me that it’s a good idea.” You smiled sadly at him. “It seems we’ve finally found something we cannot agree on.” 

You tugged a little harder at your wrist, but Silco held firm. “But you love me and I love you. You’ve admitted as much.” 

“I do love you,” you agreed. “But that doesn’t mean I can support you in this. Whatever concessions you were going to make for the Haven, consider them either paid for or unaccepted. I think it would be best if we don’t meet up again.”

The cool slither against your skin was followed by two distinct clicks. You turned slowly, both knowing and dreading what you would see when you did: Silco had handcuffed you to one of the rings embedded in his headboard. 

“Silco, take this off of me.” You managed to keep your voice even despite the panic rising in your chest. 

“No.” 

You couldn’t help but pull against the metal encircling your wrist. It did nothing but make you feel more trapped. “Silco!”

“No,” he snapped again, voice harsh enough to make you stop struggling momentarily. “I lost you once. I don't intend to be so careless as to allow it to happen a second time.” 

“Silco,” you pleaded, striving for a less confrontational tone. “This is insane. I can't just stay locked in your room.”

“We love each other,” he reminded you, buttoning his pants. “Everything else will work out in time.”

And then he left, slipping shirtless into his office. You tugged fruitlessly at the handcuffs and tried to keep your breathing steady.

---

Author's Note - They were SO CLOSE to a happy ending. But Silco will always be Silco and our dear reader just can't handle some of his more pragmatic plots.

We're in the final stretch now, friends! Only a few more chapters until the end of this story.

Thank you for reading! If I can ask a favor, I haven't had the chance to watch any of Arcane Season Two yet, so if you choose to review (thank you!), please try to avoid including any spoilers. I can tell from my tumblr notifications on this story that Silco must be in S2, but I'm trying not to know how much or in what capacity. I'll try to be caught up by the time I post the next chapter.

I'll see you soon!

[forest-hashira]

Make It Right

me? branching out from animanga? it's more likely than you think lol. anyways, i'm finally dipping my toes into the arcane fandom. please be nice to me i am just a scared little baby deer. also, for the full experience, know that i listened to "the final fight" by conan gray on loop while writing this fic. do with that what you will.

read on ao3 | wc: 6.6k | pairing: viktor x reader | cw: gn reader, modern/college au, alcohol consumption, first kisses, breakup, exes to lovers (mostly), implied ace4ace relationship (reader & vik), caitvi wedding, i think that's it

One of these days you were going to learn to be more selfish. Today, unfortunately, was not that day. It was hard to be selfish when it came to your best friend’s wedding, after all. 

You’d gone along on all of the errands Cait had asked you to attend with her – sometimes in Vi’s stead, sometimes to act as a mediator if they butted heads over any details about the decorations, or cake flavor, or catering, or anything else. Even if preventing them from having arguments got tiring after a while, you were more than happy to oblige; you were good friends with both of them, and you wanted both of them to be happy on their big day.

Besides, it was the least you could do after putting your foot down about being Cait’s maid of honor. She’d been a bit disappointed, but she’d understood. Thankfully, Jayce had been ecstatic when she asked him to be her man of honor – he’d beamed about it for days, and none of the teasing he received about it was enough to dampen his mood.

Not that you saw much of Jayce these days. You were still friends with him, of course, because you were in the same friend groups, but you rarely sought out his company anymore. He hadn’t wronged you at all, but it was hard to be around him without being reminded of how horribly your relationship with his best friend – and roommate – had ended.

You’d met Viktor your freshman year of university, when he’d been assigned as your lab partner in your one required science credit course for your degree. You’d picked the class because the professor had a better student rating than any of your other options, but the subject matter was much harder than you’d anticipated. 

Though he was a bit awkward, Viktor had been kind when you’d asked him for help – he was your lab partner, after all, so part of his grade was riding on your ability to understand and do the work, too. Over the course of the semester, the two of you spent several hours together on four days of the week: two days were the actual class and lab, and the other two days were spent studying, though those study days felt more like tutoring sessions for you. 

Unsurprisingly, you got along really well with him; his dry, sarcastic humor always made you laugh, and his mastery of all things relating to his degree was nothing short of fascinating to you. To your surprise, he seemed to like your company, too. He asked about your day when you saw him, and though he didn’t seem to care much for anyone else, he always listened when you’d talk about your friends. 

When the semester ended, and you finished the class with a ‘B-,’ you invited Viktor to celebrate with you and your friends. He’d agreed after you promised it wouldn’t be anything crazy, just a small party at your friend Cait’s house. 

“Her parents are stupid rich,” you told him. “Her mom’s some sort of diplomat, so they’re out of town for a conference for the next week. Cait invited some of us over to celebrate the end of the semester.”

“How many people is she inviting?” Viktor asked, and though he was good at hiding it, it wasn’t all that difficult for you to pick up on the fact that he was nervous.

“Not many,” you assured him, “She’s not an extremely social person to begin with, honestly. It’ll be her, Vi – who Cait insists she doesn’t have a thing for, but she totally does, we can all see it – Vi’s younger sister Powder, Powder’s friend Ekko, Jayce – who’s been friends with Cait since they were in middle school – me, and if you come, you! So that’s…” You trailed off for a moment, counting on your fingers. “Seven, including you and me. That’s not so bad, right?”

Viktor still seemed unconvinced, but he hadn’t outright said no, either. After a moment, you remembered something else you thought might tempt him, and you perked up.

“Oh! I’m pretty sure Jayce is in the same program you are! Or at least one really similar to it. Something to do with engineering, I think? He’s only told me once so I’m not remembering exactly what it was he told me he’s studying. But I think the two of you would really get along!”

There was a long moment of silence after you spoke, Viktor’s expression completely unchanged. You decided to throw out one more thing to try and tempt him to join you. 

“Please, Vik? I worry about you being alone, I just wanna spend some time with you without having to study until my brain melts out of my ears. Is that really so bad?”

That seemed to do the trick, because his expression softened and he sighed. “Alright, I’ll go with you,” he agreed. “I can’t have you worrying about me for no reason.” The corner of his lips twitched into something faintly reminiscent of a smile, and you nearly cheered. 

For the most part, the party was unremarkable, just as you’d expected, Jayce and Viktor got along well, with Jayce animatedly telling Viktor about his current project, and Viktor offering some input on the parts Jayce said he was stuck on. Almost everybody had a bit to drink, but nobody got so drunk that they were sick or making bad decisions. 

Well… mostly.

“We should play Spin the Bottle.” Vi had a bit of a smirk as she made the suggestion, glancing over at Cait and stifling a bit of a laugh when she blushed. “C’mon, Cupcake, don’t tell me you’re scared of a little game?”

“I am not,” Cait insisted, scowling. “But we’ve already thrown away all the empty bottles.” 

As if she’d been waiting, Vi downed the last of her beer, wiping away the bit that dripped down her chin with the back of her hand as she waved the empty bottle in Cait’s direction. “Got one right here.”

Cait rolled her eyes, resigning herself to the fate of playing the game. “Fine,” she huffed, “But I am not kissing Jayce.” 

Everyone began to take their seats on the floor, making as tight of a circle as they could as Vi laid the bottle on the floor in the middle. Before you joined them, though, you looked over at Viktor. He’d leaned his cane against the arm of the couch where the two of you had been sitting, and he was eyeing the floor grimly.

You bumped him lightly with your shoulder, doing your best not to draw attention to him as you murmured, “D’you wanna stay on the couch?” 

Viktor frowned, considering your words for a moment. Eventually, he shook his head. “No, I think I would prefer to join everyone else on the floor.”

You nodded back, not entirely surprised by his answer; he always did his best not to let his disability hinder him, even if you could see that it caused him pain and discomfort. “Need some help getting down there?”

He hesitated for another moment, then gave a slight nod. “Please.”

Standing from your seat, you took Viktor’s hand, helping him up from the couch and back down onto the floor. It took a few moments and a bit of spatial negotiation to get him into a comfortable position, but soon enough you were settled on the floor, too, with Cait on your left and Viktor on your right. 

“How do we decide who goes first?” Cait asked, arching a brow as she looked across the circle at Vi. 

“I’ll go!” Powder chirped, grinning as she leaned forward, grabbing the bottle and giving it a hard spin. When it finally stopped, the neck of the bottle was pointing squarely at Vi. Instead of being grossed out, Powder simply grabbed her sister, planting an obnoxious kiss on her cheek with an exaggerated “Mwah!” 

Vi rolled her eyes, but she was smiling, shaking her head slightly at her sister’s antics. You laughed along with Powder and Ekko, the girl’s behavior a little ridiculous, but endearing nonetheless. 

Deciding to go clockwise around the circle, Vi grabbed the bottle and gave it a spin herself. After a moment, it landed back where it started, in her direction.

“D’you wanna spin again?” Powder asked, tilting her head slightly. 

“Nah,” Vi replied, twisting around and grabbing a bottle of vodka and a shot glass that had been left on a side table. She poured herself a shot, then downed it right afterwards. “Options are give a kiss or take a shot. And I can’t very well kiss myself.” She set the bottle and the shot glass down in front of her, then turned to look at Viktor. “Your turn.”

Viktor sighed softly, not looking thrilled at the idea of participating, but he didn’t argue, just leaned forward a bit and spun the bottle. As it slowed, it looked for a moment as if it was going to land on Vi again, but it only came to a stop once it pointed at you. Once you processed what you were seeing, you looked up at your friend to gauge his reaction. 

Much to your surprise, Viktor seemed almost scared by the result; he was frozen, eyes widened the tiniest bit. He glanced in your direction for a fleeting second, though when he realized you were already looking at him, his cheeks flushed a rather intense shade of pink. He looked away quickly, instead eyeing the vodka bottle; you’d never really known him to be a drinker, so that was even more surprising to you. 

“You don’t have to take a shot, Vik,” you reminded him gently, offering him a smile when he met your eye again.

“…Are you sure?” he asked, not seeming entirely convinced.

“‘Course I am.” You shifted a bit closer to him, placing your hand over his as you smiled up at him. “No need to be nervous.”

The words seemed to flood Viktor with bashfulness, the pink on his cheeks spreading down his neck. Instead of arguing or insisting he wasn’t nervous, he leaned down, closing his eyes as he pressed his lips to yours.

His lips were softer than you were expecting, if a bit chapped. Your eyes slipped shut as well, and you leaned up a bit more to meet him. A soft puff of air ghosted across your cheek, and you felt him relax a bit more into the touch. As much as you wanted to linger in the kiss, you let him pull away after a couple of seconds. You weren’t sure if it was noticeable, but you could feel a bit of heat in your own cheeks as you smiled up at him again.

“Alright, lovebirds, we get it,” Vi teased, smirking as she leaned past Viktor to look at you. “Your turn, hot stuff.”

With a roll of your eyes, you reached out and spun the bottle. Watching as it spun, you found yourself hoping it would land on Viktor so you could kiss him again. A few rotations later, though, the neck of the bottle pointed squarely at Vi. “Nope,” you said, already reaching for the vodka and the shot glass. You poured and downed a shot in just a few seconds, then bumped Cait for her to take her turn; even without looking at her face, you could tell that your friend was relieved you hadn’t chosen to kiss the person she was interested in.

When you settled back into your spot, you looked up at Viktor again. There was an undeniable look of relief on his face as he smiled faintly down at you, and it made your stomach do a funny little flip. Suddenly feeling a bit bashful, you dropped his gaze, instead resting your head lightly against his shoulder. He made no move to shrug you off, simply adjusted to the small amount of added weight, and shifted his hand so it rested over yours. You exchanged no words through all of the slight shuffling, but it wasn’t awkward – in fact, it was nice to be a little closer to him.

Just as you settled down, though, you watched the bottle stop spinning, once again pointing straight at Vi. You bit your lip, fighting the urge to laugh, but when Cait groaned and leaned across the circle, grabbing Vi by the neck of her shirt and pulling her into a kiss, you couldn’t help but wolf whistle while Jayce, Ekko, and Powder laughed and cheered. 

“Finally,” Vi sighed, once Cait released her and they both sat down again. “About damn time, cupcake.” As smug as she tried to sound, the grin on her lips and the faint blush on her cheeks gave her away.

Cait clicked her tongue, pointedly looking away from Vi and over to Jayce, as if it would hide the way her whole face burned. “It’s your turn, Jayce. What are you waiting for?”

Knowing better than to tease or argue in that moment, Jayce reached forward and gave the bottle a spin. It shifted a bit to the left from how hard he spun it, but when it finally stopped, it landed on Vi. Again. Jayce glanced up at the pink haired girl, and both of them grimaced. Nose still wrinkled, Vi quickly poured a shot, downed it herself, then poured one for Jayce and passed him the glass. 

As Jayce downed the shot, you covered your mouth with your hand and laughed softly; it wasn’t hard to figure out that Vi wasn’t interested in men at all, but you knew for a fact that Jayce liked women, so the fact that both of them were so grossed out by the idea of having to kiss was especially funny to you. Though he remained quiet beside you, you heard Viktor let out the smallest puff of a breath, one you recognized as a laugh. You tilted your head slightly to look up at his face again, dropping your hand down to your lap, and you found him already looking down at you with a faint hint of a smile, a playful sparkle in his eye; he finally seemed to be actually enjoying the party, and you couldn’t help but feel a little relieved.

“What the hell?”

Vi’s baffled voice drew your attention, and you saw that the bottle was pointing at her again, but not in the same position it had been a few moments ago; presumably, Ekko had taken his turn, and just like everyone but Viktor, had wound up with the option to kiss Vi or take a shot. When he blew a kiss to his friend’s older sister, you and Powder both laughed, and even Vi chuckled a bit.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you rigged this game to make sure you’d get kissed tonight,” Cait said. The heat had finally died down from her face, and she was starting to look a bit smug, but that was all undone when Vi grinned at her.

“Cupcake, if the game had been rigged, everyone would’ve kissed me. You’re the only one who actually did it.” 

The laughter that her comment brought forth only ended when Cait threatened to kick everyone out of her house, even if it was only half-hearted.

You couldn’t really avoid Jayce any longer, though. It was finally Cait and Vi’s wedding day, and you were having to do much more coordinating with Jayce than you’d been expecting. It wasn’t anything too serious, thankfully, but it was just enough little things that it was starting to drive you insane. Between the two of you, you’d narrowly avoided Vi seeing Cait’s dress before she was finished getting ready — You’re really not gonna let me see my fiancée on my wedding day? — prevented Powder from staining her bridesmaid’s dress with pizza sauce — I have a romper in the car that’s the same color, it’s not a big deal! — and had to talk the photographer through the directions to the venue when they got lost. And just when you thought you were finally going to be able to take a breath and sit down for a few minutes before the ceremony started, Jayce dropped a bombshell on you.

“What do you mean Viktor’s your plus one today? What happened to bringing Mel?” Despite how you fought to keep your voice level, even to your ears it sounded a bit shrill.

Jayce, to his credit, looked remorseful about what he’d done, even if he did flinch a bit at Mel’s name. “We broke up,” he said. “About a week ago, actually.”

“Oh.” You paused for a moment, feeling a little guilty for being so accusing before you had all the information. “I’m sorry, that’s… Breakups are never fun. I’m sorry.”

He just nodded. “No, they’re not,” he agreed, letting out a soft sigh. Silence settled over the two of you for a moment again, then another thought occurred to you.

“Did Cait know you were bringing him?” It was difficult to imagine your best friend knowing your only ex-boyfriend would be at her wedding and not giving you a head’s up about it, but at the same time you knew she wanted all of her close friends there, and if you’d known ahead of time that Viktor would also be at the wedding, it would’ve been a lot harder for you to make yourself go.

Fortunately for you, Jayce was quick to dismiss that worry. “No, she doesn’t know he’s here. I told her that Mel wasn’t coming but that I wasn’t sure if I was bringing someone else or not.” 

You pursed your lips, but you gave a small nod. Though you were relieved that this detail hadn’t been purposefully been withheld from you, still weren’t happy about it. “I hope you know she’s probably gonna tear you a new one when she realizes you brought him without telling her,” you said after a moment, a faint smile tugging the corner of your lips; the comment was meant mostly to tease, but you and Jayce both knew there was a grain of truth to it. 

Jayce smiled back a bit. “Maybe she’ll go easy on me since he plans on leaving you alone.”

The tension between you now dispersed, you split up with Jayce, letting him go and get ready for his entrance to the ceremony with Powder. Deciding to check in on Cait one last time, you knocked lightly on the door of the room she’d been getting ready in, then poked your head in. 

Cait was sitting at the vanity, staring at herself intently in the mirror, and you knew she was mentally picking apart every part of her hair and makeup. It made you sigh. “You look stunning, Cait. Stop worrying so much.” 

Crossing the room to reach her, you wrapped your arms around her shoulders from behind, resting your chin atop her head, though you were careful not to ruin her hair. “And even if you didn’t, you could walk down the aisle in an inflatable dinosaur costume and Vi would still think you were the most beautiful person in the world.”

Just as you’d hoped, your words made her laugh, and you felt her relax. She reached up and rested a hand on your arm. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I needed that.”

“You’re welcome,” you murmured. “Deep breaths, yeah? You got this.” A gentle squeeze to her shoulders, then you added, “I gotta go meet Ekko now. I’ll see you out there in just a minute.”

She nodded, squeezing your arm back gently before you released each other, and you stepped out of the room. Ekko was waiting for you just out in the hall, and he smiled at you, extending your bouquet to you. 

You smiled back, accepting the bouquet, then linking arms with him. “You clean up well, kid. You should wear a suit more often.” 

He rolled his eyes and shook his head at your words, but his smile never faded. “The material’s not forgiving enough to surf in,” he joked back. 

Before you could quip back, it was time for the two of you to enter the ceremony, walking down the aisle to the music you’d helped Cait and Vi pick out together. You made it all the way to the altar without an issue, separating from Ekko and going to stand by Jayce. Despite your better judgment, you found your gaze skimming over the crowd, and when you caught the familiar sight of a crutch leaned against a seat, you felt your throat tighten. You were quick to look away, but it was too late; memories were already flooding back to you. 

Vi hadn’t been the only one to leave that party with a new partner. Unlike Cait and Vi – who jumped right into the deep end of dating after sharing that kiss during spin the bottle – you and Viktor took things slow and steady. There were many conversations about what the kiss at the party had meant, if you even wanted it to mean anything at all, and where the two of you stood after it. Viktor had sheepishly admitted that he’d developed feelings for you about halfway through the semester, and when you told him you felt the same, he’d gotten a little flustered.

The progression of your relationship from there didn’t just feel natural, it felt right. You only got more comfortable being around him, visiting each other’s dorms for movie nights or to study together, often with cheap takeout shared between you. Viktor started joining you and your friends more often when you got together. He didn’t come every time, since he was still rather introverted – you teased him about becoming a complete recluse without you – but would tag along to game nights or bar trivia. 

He asked before he kissed you every time, no matter how long you were together. You thought it was adorable and sweet, and you made sure he knew that. Beyond kissing, physical intimacy wasn’t hugely important to either of you. Sure, sometimes you’d curl up while watching a movie, or you’d fall asleep in the other’s lap, but that was it. The one time it came up around Vi, she’d been so surprised it had worried you, and you’d wondered if you were depriving Viktor of something he wanted simply because you weren’t initiating. Though you’d been nervous about it, you brought it up to Viktor the next time you saw him. He’d been quick to assuage your concerns, assuring you that if there was something he wanted, he would talk to you about it.

“So no, lásko, you are not depriving me of anything.” He’d kissed your forehead afterwards, and you felt him smile against your skin when you relaxed into him. “Am I depriving you of anything?” he’d asked after a moment, a bit of a teasing lilt in his words.

You’d laughed softly, shaking your head and wrapping your arms around him. “No,” you promised, “You’re not. I would talk to you about it if you were.”

And you kept your word. For two years, everything between the two of you was perfect. The first semester of your senior year of university started off just as every other year had, and at first, nothing about your relationship changed. About six weeks in, though, Viktor started a big project in one of his classes, and it consumed nearly his every waking moment. It was a little disappointing to not see your boyfriend as much, but you made the best of it, going to his dorm on the days he wasn’t in the lab all night & bringing takeout with you, knowing he had a tendency to forget to take care of himself when he got sucked into a project. 

But then a project for one class turned into projects for all of his classes, and he all but disappeared from your life. He stopped asking to come and see you, he stopped asking to meet up at the library, he stopped taking care of himself. Even then, you tried to be patient, to be understanding and ignore your hurt feelings; you knew his degree was more work-intensive than yours was, that it required more of his time, but it still wasn’t fun to be faced with the reality of it. 

The final straw came when he stopped so much as answering your texts. It had been three days with no word from him at all, and you, worried he may have pushed himself too hard in the lab over the weekend and gotten himself hurt, went to see if he was in his apartment, or if you needed to look elsewhere for him.

You used the spare key he’d given you about six months before, and when you saw him sitting at his tiny dining table staring blankly down into a mug of coffee, you felt relief rush over you. The relief was quickly followed by irritation, though, when you saw his phone sitting on the table in front of him. 

“Vik,” you sighed, closing the door behind you and crossing the room to join him. “I haven’t heard from you in days, I was getting really worried.” As you spoke, you glanced over at his phone. After a beat, you decided to offer him a graceful out, even if neither of you would really believe him if he took it. “Did you not get my texts?”

“I got them,” he said, voice flat. “I didn’t answer because I was busy.”

His honesty shouldn’t have been a surprise, since he’d never been one to lie to you, but in this instance, it was. “Too busy to send me a quick text to let me know you weren’t unconscious on the floor of your lab?” You did your best to inject a bit of humor into your tone, but it was difficult.

“Yes,” was his simple reply, nothing in his tone or expression changing in the slightest. It didn’t sit well with you.

“Viktor,” you said, doing your best to sound firm but not angry as you stood upright once again. “Do you remember when I said I would tell you if you were depriving me of something in our relationship, just like you said you would?”

He nodded, though he still didn’t look away from his coffee.

“Well,” you continued. “I’m telling you now. You’re not working with me to keep this relationship together. I understand that you’re busy, and that most of the time you don’t have the energy for much besides classes and schoolwork, but you can’t keep treating me like this. I have to be one of your priorities, too.”

“No.”

“...Excuse me?”

“No,” Viktor repeated, a bit more firmly, finally looking up at you. “My classes and my lab work are the most important things in my life right now.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. “…More important than spending time with your long term partner?”

“Absolutely.” The certainty in his voice was unmistakable, and your heart dropped to your stomach. “I will not be changing my priorities. Nothing will come ahead of my studies. They are the only things that matter for my future.”

His words made you feel sick. Although you wanted to break down, to scream at him and cry and smash everything in his tiny, shitty apartment where you’d spent so many nights in love with him, you felt like you were watching yourself from outside your body as you whispered, “Fuck you,” then turned and left the apartment, slamming the door forcefully after you. 

The sound of cheering startled you a bit, and when you finally came back to the moment, you saw Vi dipping Cait as they kissed. You grinned at the sight, joining the rest of the guests in clapping. Part of you felt a bit guilty about mentally checking out for the entirety of the ceremony, instead drowning in the memories of your failed relationship, but it couldn’t be helped now. 

Pointedly not looking in the direction you knew Viktor sat in, you joined the rest of the bridal party as they left the room, everyone eager to get to the reception. Powder, Vi, and Cait all rushed off to get changed into their second, more comfortable outfits, leaving you, Ekko, and Jayce to usher the guests into the reception so the happy couple could make their entrance there, too. 

As you greeted the wedding guests and welcomed them into the room the reception was being held in, you were able to forget, for a moment, that the last person you ever wanted to see again was among them. That is, until you felt Jayce’s hand on your back. You turned slightly to look up at him as he gently pushed you into the room. 

He gave you a small, apologetic smile, and you knew instantly he was trying to prevent you from having a run-in with his best friend. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you,” Jayce promised quietly. All you could do was nod, turning and melting into the crowd as they filed into the room. 

Before leaving your apartment that morning, you’d told yourself you weren’t going to have more than a glass or two of champagne, that way you could better enjoy the evening with your friends, but you were already craving something stronger. You hesitated for a moment, then made your way over to the bar. Just one cocktail won’t be so bad, you told yourself. Since there was no one else at the bar just yet, you were easily able to go up and order your drink without having to wait. 

Drink in hand, you thanked the bartender and left a big tip, telling yourself you wouldn’t be going back up again during the reception anyways. You sipped slowly on your drink as you waited for the newlyweds to make their entrance, not wanting the alcohol to hit you too hard before the party actually started. Just a few minutes later, they entered the room, Cait in a looser-fitting, shorter dress – much more conducive for dancing, everyone had agreed at the fitting – and Vi without her suit jacket. You cheered along with everyone else when you finally saw them, and you smiled as you watched their first dance. The way they looked at each other, so in love it was almost sickening, made your heart clench; you were really, truly happy for them, had been rooting for them since you’d realized Cait had a thing for Vi almost five years ago, but you couldn’t help but wish you were in their shoes. 

You downed the rest of your drink and went back to the bar for another when you caught yourself looking for Viktor; the last thing you needed was to be lovesick over the man who’d wrecked you while you were trying to celebrate two of your best friends. Unfortunately, that meant that your “just one cocktail” promise to yourself had turned into three – one Dark n’ Stormy, one Suffering Bastard, and one Death in the Afternoon. 

As you sipped your third drink, you watched your friends out on the dancefloor; a slower song had started, and Vander had stolen his oldest daughter away from Cait for it. Cait swayed around a bit with Jayce, and Powder rested her head on Ekko’s shoulder as he held her close, his faint rocking movements in sync with the music. Everyone had a partner, someone to share the moment and be happy with.

Except for you.

Yet again, you found your gaze wandering, and eventually you spotted Viktor again. He was on the opposite side of the room, his crutch leaning against the table where he sat. He was alone, and he looked almost as uncomfortable and miserable as you felt, though he didn’t seem to be drinking. It was clear that he was as far from you as he could get, something that was certainly Jayce’s doing, since he’d promised he wouldn’t let Viktor bother you, but you were just buzzed enough to ignore everything in you that was screaming for you to stay away.

What’s the worst that could happen? you thought, downing the rest of your drink and placing the empty glass on the bar before picking your way across the room, skirting the dance floor and all the other happy partygoers. Somehow, Viktor didn’t notice you until you pulled out the chair next to him and sat down. “Why are you here?” you asked, crossing your legs. You leaned back in your seat a bit, just watching him. 

For a few long moments, he just stared at you, eyes wide with wordless shock, like he couldn’t really believe you were there talking to him. When you arched a brow at him, though, it seemed to bring him back to himself. “Jayce said I needed to get out of the house and go somewhere that wasn’t the lab,” he answered, dropping your gaze as he spoke. “I knew you were going to be here, so I told him I did not think it was a good idea, but he was insistent. He wouldn't leave the house without me.”

Even once he finished speaking, he wouldn’t look at you again, and all you could think was how much it reminded you of the last conversation you had with him. Forcing those thoughts aside, you took a moment to really look at him, to see how he’d changed in the years since you’d broken up. His hair was a bit longer, but he still wore it in generally the same style; he used a crutch now, rather than a cane, something Jayce had mentioned before and you’d glimpsed during the ceremony, but it was entirely different seeing it up close; his clothes seemed looser on him, as if he’d lost weight he couldn’t really afford to lose; he even seemed paler than you remembered, almost ashen. It all made your heart pang; the years clearly had not been kind to him, but even still, you couldn’t forget how unkindly he’d treated you first.

“You really fucking hurt me, you know that?” The words slipped out before you could think them through, and once you started, you couldn’t make them stop. “The way you treated me right before we broke up was so… so shitty, Vik. You didn’t even care about me anymore. Do you know how that made me feel?”

He winced at your words, but he nodded. “Yes,” he said quietly, “I do.”

“How could you possibly know?” Bitterness curled around your words, and you nearly choked on them.

“Caitlyn showed up at my apartment a couple of months after our breakup. She was furious, screaming at me about how much I’d hurt you, how miserable you were all the time. She told me you’d spent practically every night at her house, crying on her shoulder about how awful you felt and how much you hated me.” A small, sardonic smile twitched at the corner of his lips as he added, “I think she would have tried to kill me if Jayce hadn’t been there with me.”

Viktor looked up at you again after that, looking almost pained. “I am deeply sorry for doing that to you. I never should have treated you so terribly.”

His words shocked you, and you were only a little surprised to feel your eyes begin to burn with tears. “…I really loved you, Vik,” you whispered, throat tight as you tried to keep your emotions in check. “Like, I really loved you. Those years we were together, I was so happy. I felt like I’d won the lottery, because I had a partner I was head over heels for and who loved me just as much, I had an amazing group of friends, and my education was going perfectly. I let myself start planning my future because I was so convinced everything was going my way.”

A short, bitter laugh escaped you, and you shook your head. “It sounds stupid now, but… I even started looking at wedding venues and engagement rings. Spending the rest of my life with you seemed inevitable, so I got carried away.” You trailed off, wiping your eyes quickly before you started sobbing like a baby. “I’m not even sure why I’m telling you this,” you admitted. “I never wanted to see you again. I really thought I’d moved past all this. But I guess not.”

Viktor was silent for so long you started to feel self conscious, even with three drinks practically erasing your inhibitions, and you glanced over at him to try and gauge how he was feeling. You were a bit shocked to see that he looked almost sick. 

“You… wanted to get married?” His voice was smaller than you could ever recall hearing it, but instead of feeling vindicated like you’d expected, you just felt worse. 

“Yeah. Of course I did, Vik. I never cared about anyone the way I cared about you.” 

Silence settled over the two of you for several long moments; it left you feeling exposed and anxious after being so vulnerable with him, something you hadn’t even been planning on doing when you walked over to him. Just before you could stand up to flee, Viktor spoke again.

“I have missed you every single day since our relationship ended,” he confessed, once again staring at his hands. “You were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I treated you like garbage. You deserved so much better than that; you still do.” 

He paused, took a deep breath, then continued, more nervous than before. “Is… is there any chance you could ever forgive me?” he asked. “I know it is selfish of me to ask – that I don’t deserve to be forgiven – and I would not blame you if you cursed me out instead, but I am asking anyways.” When you didn’t answer right away, he looked up at you one last time, the deep gold of his eyes shining even in the dimmed lighting of the venue. “I will get down on my knees and beg if that’s what it takes. Even if you kick me while I am down, I will do whatever you ask to earn your forgiveness.”

All the air was sucked from your lungs at his words, and all you could do at first was stare; it was so reminiscent of the Viktor you’d been certain you would marry that it made you dizzy. “You idiot,” you huffed, shaking your head at him. “Stay in your fucking chair, Jayce’ll have a heart attack if he sees you on the floor.”

Viktor gave a slight shrug. “He probably would,” he agreed, “But it would be worth it if it meant making things up to you.”

“That’s not the way I want you to make things up to me, Viktor.”

If you hadn’t memorized every one of his mannerisms, you would’ve missed the way he perked up the tiniest bit at your words. “Is there a way you want me to make things up to you?”

Though you tried to fight it, the faintest hint of a smile ghosted across your lips. “You could start by getting me a glass of water.”

He smiled back faintly. “Anything else?”

“I wouldn’t mind a snack with it.”

“Your wish is my command.”

The way your heart fluttered at his words was all too familiar, but you were starting to think that that wasn’t the worst thing that could happen.

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[cheeriecherrymain]

papa!Viktor blurb, anyone?

A/N: slowly, slowly, recovering from the creative drought ive been in

it's nowhere near a waterfall again, more like a frustrating dribble, BUT. It's something. But anyways, here is a Papa Viktor Thought Blurb (listen, my sister is almost three months old now, and I am so besotted with her, she's my favourite tiny person, and i am full of Caretaker Feelings)

Content Warning: 18+ MDNI (not explicit, but very very suggestive), afab!Reader, pregnancy, labour and birth (again, not explicit, but still with some depth), papa!Viktor, no beta no editing we simply die

Imagine Viktor, and him believing he'll be alone for his entire life - working so hard to make some kind of legacy for himself, putting everything he has into his creations and his machines. Every calculation, every experiment a labour of love.

This is how the world will remember his name.

At least, he hopes.

But then he meets you.

You're charming, he has to admit. You make friends wherever you go, and you have a weird habit of bringing people out of their shells. There's just...something about you that makes others want to bare their souls to you. Something that draws people in.

Like you have a tangible sort of gravity, and wherever you go, someone ends up in your orbit.

He won't mean much to you, he thinks, after conversing with you a couple times. You're creative, like he is, and you're enjoyable to talk to. But nothing more. Sooner or later, you'll continue on somewhere else, making waves and drawing attention. And in your wake, he will be left to sink. It's what expects.

Except...

You don't leave.

Your chats start out small. Short and sweet, a How are you today? wondered whenever you pass each other in the halls a couple times a month, curious about the goings-on of his life.

He never has anything interesting to tell you about. No adventures or tales to tell, nothing beyond the walls of a cramped and cluttered office.

You must be bored, he thinks.

But then you start seeking him out. Instead of just catching up for a couple minutes whenever you happen to walk past each other, you hunt him down in his office - and god, he wasn't lying when he'd told you it was cramped.

You're amazed he even has the space to think in there, with how tight it is. Yet you still shimmy yourself into the tiny room, careful not to disturb any piles of papers, and find a careful seat on a spot of open floor beside his desk. There's no room for a second chair, and you've always made it clear that you dislike standing when you're having a long conversation.

It's nice to sit down and rest somewhere together, you'd told him one time.

You grow closer after that. From seeing him a couple times a month, to a couple times a week, to literally every day. You don't seem to care that he never has anything 'exciting' to share with you, even going so far as to chastise him for calling himself uninteresting.

Your experiments are cool, you'd insisted, while leafing through one of his old journals. It's incredible to get to see how your mind works, and how creative and inventive you are. You have so many ideas, Viktor, and I really believe that they could help people.

Something changes in him, after that. He'd always been quieter around you, listening to your stories, and dutifully answering your questions: never quite letting you in.

Now he looks forward to seeing you.

His heart skips a beat every time he hears you knocking on his office door, a chipper little pattern reserved only for him. You know that he doesn't always like dealing with students after hours, so you'd come up with a way to let him know that it was you who was greeting him.

Things progress...surprisingly natural.

He's not subtle by any means, even if he thinks he is. The moment he realizes that he has feelings for you, all bets are off. His cheeks dust pink whenever you're around, his palms get sweaty and he fidgets, and the staring.

Looking at you with ill-contained admiration and affection.

You can't not kiss him.

You spend the next couple years having the time of your lives. Moving from classes and overbearing internships, to actively working on experiments. Collaborating with each other, drawing up ideas and debating functionality and form. The two of you get so heated when you're creating things together.

Neither of you are surprised when it devolves. Wide gestures and hasty chalkboard sketches, impassioned explanations and wild eyes - you bite your lip as you let your gaze trail over him, in all his dishevelled beauty. Hair a mess, tie crooked and loose, shirt partially unbuttoned, and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Many nights are spent like that, cooped up in his little laboratory, surrounded by sketches and blueprints and scribbles and stray notes. His fingertips digging into the soft of your skin as he kisses the breath out of you. The rhythmic clunking of his crooked desk most telling, as he draws forth your little squeaks and sighs of delight.

Absolutely ruining you, filling you, stretching you open. Feeling the way you tremble in his hands, held tight to his slender body as he reaches so deep into you that you'll feel him for days.

Sinking his teeth into the side of your neck when he finds his own release - to stay quiet, he tells you. But you both know it's his way of marking you.

Claiming you.

You're his. You're his person, his love, his partner. Your eyes only ever shine the way they do when you look at him.

Your body, splayed out and spread before him, quivering and gasping and covered in a thin sheen of sweat - his.

Your taste, sweet on his tongue - your mouth, your skin, your arousal that drips out of you whenever he so much as looks at you.

His.

And he knows, without a single atom of doubt, that he's also yours. So entirely entangled with each other, neither of you knowing how you'd managed to exist separately before now.

How had you possibly found beauty in every day, when you'd never heard his voice? Never caught a whiff of his sweet shampoo as he ambled past you? Never felt the warmth of his touch, or the puff of his sighs on your cheek? Never known the tickle of his hair on your bare skin as you slowly woke every morning to find him curled around you, his face smashed into your back and soft snores emanating from him?

No matter, you think. You have him now, and that's what's important.

...until everything changes.

You miss a period.

You tell him about it.

You're both on edge, but he tries to remain optimistic. Cycles can be upset sometimes, he tells you, as if you don't already know. (You're certain he's really just trying to reassure himself.)

But deep down, you know.

You can feel it in the all-encompassing tiredness you wake with every morning. In the random bouts of nausea, and the sudden food aversions. The back aches, and all the sudden new smells you can detect.

You know something is amiss.

And he knows, too, when he finds you one time in the middle of the night. Standing in your shared little kitchen, in the dark, illuminated only by the light of the open refrigerator.

Pulling pickles straight out of the jar, dipping them in mayonnaise, and sinking your teeth into them. Like they were to most delectable thing you'd ever ingested.

You're both terrified, of course.

You're not really surprised that you've managed to fall pregnant - not with the way you two lust after each other practically every night, and sometimes in the morning. Maybe even once or twice in between meetings, when you're both squished together in his compact office.

Neither of you ever thought you'd become parents.

And certainly not right now.

But...you want this, you realize. You want this with him. You want a family with him, you want the evidence of your love - you want a future with him, and you want to see what beautiful little person you'll make together.

Would they have his eyes? Yours? He hopes they have your smile, he tells you, eventually.

It takes you by surprise, his words, what with how quiet he'd been since you'd both figured everything out. You'd been worrying that he wasn't really on board with keeping the baby - with being a father. And you hadn't blamed him, really.

You'd been beyond stressed at the idea of raising a child alone. The thought of him leaving you, leaving behind something so intrinsically tied to him, had been slowly breaking your heart. You hadn't wanted him to stay simply out of obligation - you know you wouldn't be able to cope with the eventual resentment that such an action would breed.

But to know for certain now that he'd only been anxious?

That he wanted this with you, and was excited?

You're so happy that you immediately burst into tears, squeaking and sniffling and snotting uncontrollably while Viktor bites back a laugh and herds you into his embrace. Stroking your back and murmuring the sweetest things to you while you try to catch your breath, leaving gentle kisses all over your face.

Telling you all about what kind of person he hoped your little one would be.

Your smile, most certainly, he said, resolute. You have the most beautiful smile. You light up the room wherever you go. Maybe your sense of humour, too. And certainly your compassion.

Your tears slowly began to lessen, as you let yourself be lulled by the comfort of his arms around you.

Your hair, though, you insist, smushing your face into his shirt. You look so pretty in the mornings, all fluffed up and in disarray. It's the cutest shit I've ever seen.

That garners a laugh from him.

I want them to have your eyes, as well, you admit, albeit somewhat shyly. I've never seen a colour like yours, so intense and complex. Way back when we first met, and you looked at me for the very first time? I almost lost the ability to breathe. It was...it was like I knew, right then. That you were the person I wanted to spend my life with.

He squeezes you a little bit tighter, stooping down to tenderly slot your lips together. Slow, lazy, intimate. Sharing breath and warmth and love and-

He takes you again.

Right there, in the dim quiet of his office, not seeming to care if anyone passing by in the hallway might hear you. Spoiling you absolutely rotten, speaking praises against your skin as he brings you over the edge again and again and again.

Pupils blown wide as he sinks his fingers into you, crooking them perfectly as to reach the spots he knows will drive you mad. The papers strewn around the room don't matter - they don't even cross his mind, as you wriggle and squirm and quiver and cry out for him.

How could they, when all he can focus on is the way you look when your body tenses up, another wave of ecstasy coursing through your veins, culminating in your lovely little noises, and the addicting feeling of your pleasure dripping down his fingers and over his palm, soaking him thoroughly.

He would be happy to have you like this, as frequently as you would let him.

He knows how sensitive you must be by now, not only from his ministrations, but also from the way your body is changing. He's done his fair amount of reading since discovering your pregnancy - he's aware of all the ways you might be feeling.

The hunger, the exhaustion, the aches and pains.

The all-encompassing, single-minded lust you might go through.

He's ready to please you, however you might want - his fingers, his mouth. And whenever you might want. You could wake him up in the middle of the night, for all he cares. You could nudge him from the sleep that he so desperately needs, and he'd ask not a single question besides What do you need, darling? How would you like me?

What he doesn't expect is his own desire.

You're beautiful. You always have been beautiful. Even as things change, he was absolutely certain that you would never stop being beautiful.

It's you, so of course he's going to want you.

But seeing you now, whining and looking at him like he's hung the moon in the sky, specifically for you? Your tummy already growing round with the life that you've made together, visible proof of your love? Desperate whimpers falling past your lips, begging him for more, for him to fill you up again and again and again?

He can't resist you.

Even when he starts to ache, and his arms start shaking, and his throat is raw and dry from breathing hard and calling out for you.

He can't resist you.

You're insatiable.

So is he.

He's a little more careful as the months progress. Manhandling you less, digging his fingers into the soft fat of your hips a little gentler. He's cognizant of how you're most comfortable, watching in awe as you tremble on top of him, grinding down on him and taking his entire length into you like you were made specifically for him.

Nearly every day, you beg for him.

He loves you.

And when the time eventually comes for you to waddle carefully into the labour centre, meeting your midwife along the way, Viktor tries to keep his worrying quiet. Tries to stay by your side as a supportive pillar, regardless of how well or not he might actually be able to hold you up.

Holding your hand, kissing your knuckles. Trading his fingers for a stress ball when you squeeze a little too hard (and then another stress ball, stronger this time, when the first one explodes in your fist after a couple minutes. It shocks both of you, but to his surprise, you start laughing).

He tenderly dabs the sweat off your forehead as the hours go by, keeping your hairs from pasting themselves to your face and neck. Staying nearby as a source of comfort, but not so close that you feel smothered by him - allowing you the space you need to wiggle around as you see fit.

Telling you stories to distract you, listening to your complaints and observations as his words become unable to mask the pain of your contractions. Doing his absolute best to bite back a fond grin as you breathlessly curse him for doing this to you.

I didn't mean it, you tell him, as soon as the words leave your mouth, your eyes wide and tearful with sorrow.

I know, he promises, leaning forward to press his lips to your dewy skin.

You sigh happily.

It's not for another couple hours that your baby finally decides to enter the world.

You're beyond exhausted, and Viktor is starting to get fidgety with his worry. Is it supposed to be taking this long? he wonders internally, keeping his questions to himself so as not to stress you out even more.

The midwives, to their credit, are incredibly skilled. Staying by your side throughout the whole process, carefully monitoring everything they need to in order to make sure you're healthy. That the baby is healthy. He knows that they would say something, if anything was truly wrong.

And when the little one finally arrives, she does so kicking and screaming, making an absolute ruckus in the quiet room. The door is shut tight, keeping the sounds of the busy establishment at bay, and the curtain is drawn for your privacy so no one can see in when the staff come and go.

But when your girl begins shouting her absolute displeasure into the air, Viktor swears he can hear some quiet clapping and cheering from the hallway. He doesn't know if it's for your success, or for something and someone else entirely - but for a moment, he likes to believe that there are some strangers out there who are happy for him.

They don't know his story, and they don't know yours - but they've heard a great cry from somewhere hidden and full of struggle. An all-encompassing wail that confirms the presence of life, shouting to the world I am here, I am alive, and I have absolutely no idea what's going on!

He doesn't know when the tears start trailing down his cheeks.

Perhaps it's when he first lays eyes on your girl, pink and cranky and a little bit squished. Putting up a fuss on your base chest, scrunching her little face up as you speak softly and tenderly to her.

Perhaps it's when one of the midwives hands him a very soft towel, instructing him on how to carefully pat away the blood and fluid still clinging to your child. His eyes growing wide when he oh so gently cleans her off to reveal more of her tiny features.

She's still new, and needs time to decompress (so to speak), but he stares at her with such rapture. Taking in every inch of her, burning her face into his mind so that he might never forget her. Ever.

She's still new, and yet he can already tell that she has your nose. And your lips. Your smile, he realizes, with a palpable joy spreading through his chest.

His tears eventually dry, if only so he's able to better see you and the newest member of your family. Laying kiss after kiss to whatever part of your skin he can reach. Stroking the tips of his fingers over your girl's hair - her tiny arms and shoulders, her chubby cheeks, the bridge of her nose and over her brows.

But some two hours later, when you're finally allowed to rest in your comfortable hospital bed: when your baby is now dry and fed and swaddled up happily in Viktor's arms?

The tears begin again.

Privately, in the dim of the room, while you snooze a couple feet away from him, he weeps. Silently, and without so much as a sniffle. He cannot stop the wetness that rolls down his face, even if he wanted to.

Your girl is finally relaxed, after her grand, dramatic entrance. On the edge of sleep, warm and with a full tummy, making funny little expression while she dozes.

Much to Viktor's delight, she has a head of fuzzy brown hair - dishevelled and sticking in every direction, not matter how the midwives had tried to tame it. It'll settle down in a few days, they'd promised. But he didn't care.

The wild mop on top of her head rivalled the chaos of his own. The same shade of chestnut, though perhaps less coarse in texture. Maybe it will grow to the same thickness eventually, he thinks, a fond smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he imagines how much he's going to have to help her with it as she grows.

Brushing the inevitable tangles out with a soft brush. Pulling the strands back into braids so she can run around and play easier - or maybe little buns on the top of her head, he realizes, the image conjuring up in his mind.

All at once, pictures pop through his head, so vivid and bright that he can almost see them appearing in front of him.

Watching your daughter grow. Sleepless nights of taking care of her, catering to her every whim. Making sure she's fed, and comfortable - entertaining her with silly little toys that make silly little noises, bright colours painted across them. Reading her books with bright, enticing visuals for her to stare at, despite the fact that she doesn't know what words are.

Making trinkets for her as she gets a little older. Things that help her learn, but that also keep her excited and enticed, encouraging her exploration of the world around her. Teaching her to walk, by helping her strengthen her little legs. Sitting on a footstool, a wide smile on his face, as you hold her by her arms and support her as she figures out how to use her legs while upright. Leading her right over into his waiting arms.

Until she's able to balance on her own, after a number of weeks of practising together. Pushing herself up into a wobbly stance, doing her absolute best to try and balance. Maybe she stumbles a couple of times, but she's persistent -stubborn, like he is- and continuously rises back up until she's able to make it over to him on her own. Giggling and wiggling when he scoops her up and praises her and showers he in affection.

Teaching her about anything and everything, the bigger she gets. Answering every question she has, no matter how confusing or senseless - encouraging with his own suggestions, and prompting her to discover some answers for herself. Putting together little experiments for her, so they can learn together and so he can watch her eyes widen with the joy of new information.

Fixing her toys for her whenever they break, as she brings them to him with misty eyes and a wobbly bottom lip. Papa, it fell apart, she says sadly. To which he pulls her onto his lap, regardless of what work he was doing, and helps her repair the damage. Letting her watch and observe when she's still too small to hold a screwdriver, and carefully explaining things to her when her motor skills start to develop more.

And then helping her figure out in what way her toy broke, when she's a little bigger. Asking specific questions, so she can work to connect all the dots herself. Helping her gather the materials that she needs in order to fix things herself, and praising her to the high heavens when she presents the finished product to him.

The little thing is slightly lopsided, but he fully believes that it adds to its charm - tells her as such, when she sighs about it not being the same as before.

It's a little uneven, just like me, he says, with a laugh.

And, much to his complete shock, she wraps her little arms around him, and gives him her strongest possible squeeze.

It adds to your charm, she parrots back to him with complete honesty. I like you, Papa.

And once again, for the umpteenth time throughout his daughter's life, his eyes well with tears and he presses a kiss to the top of her head.

She could go anywhere she wanted, once she grew up. Learn anything, do anything, be anything. Perhaps she'd enjoy the sciences, like he does - machinery, and building, and designing, and inventing. Maybe she'd get into art, and spend her days painting or sketching, or writing, or making music - inspiring other people with the things she makes.

It doesn't matter, though. Because no matter what she ends up enjoying, or where she goes in her life, Viktor will support her with his entirety. Even when she grows all the way up, and inevitably leaves home to begin her own life, whatever that may be.

He knows he's going to cry then, too. So many years together, and yet it will still never be enough.

But for now, he sighs, staring adoringly down at the tiny infant in his arms. For now, they have time. He vows silently to never waste a single moment with her, and never pass up the opportunity to spend time with her. No matter how busy or frustrated or tired he gets, he won't let her grow up feeling unwanted or unloved or unimportant.

He'll give her a better life than he grew up with, and that is both a promise and a threat.

After all, he would do anything, for her.

His greatest creation.

[beesincognito]

Perfect Strangers- part fifteen: The Theater

Viktor x Fem!reader (slight NSFW)

part fourteen part sixteen     (start here!)

Takes place before Arcane and works its way there, did my best to combine the different versions of lore. (nsfw in parts)

(you and Viktor meet on your first day at the academy and bond over being habitual, awkward loners. The story revolves around class issues and a sense of belonging mixed with lore and Arcane plot.)

*slightly implied NSFW- very brief *

Word count: 5,089

******

Bags were packed for a weekend trip you were dreading. Not that it was getting in the way of work, nor was it a trip of severe inconvenience. It was a stressful venture; you would rather trek alone instead of having to bring Viktor in hopes of shielding him from what may come.

     Your parents were in town again and had asked you and Viktor to stay at the family estate that weekend for a friendly visit. Of course you wanted to prevent ruffled feathers after the last time you were all together, so you obliged after discussing it extensively with Viktor in private. Feeling out his nerves with every shift of his eyes or fidgeting of his hands in yours. 

     “It’s not too late to back out,” you finished checking the rooms, ensuring everything was tidy for your return, “we can bow out after the theater.”

     Many outs were given to Viktor, but he was adamant on going along with your parents’ request in hopes that they would warm up to him in the future. He insisted once more that there was no issue and he was looking forward to seeing your childhood home. That prospect alone made you almost as anxious as having him around your parents. 

     Entresol was far from the lavish lifestyle you were brought up in. The fissures were toxic, a hazard to raise a child in, and most people were never given a choice about living there. You wondered what he would think of your wastefully large home and how stifling it was. Surely after all of those years together, he would know you were far removed from the mindset of your parents and the estate should not reflect who you had become away at the academy.

     A car was waiting for you on the edge of campus which you did not request, only accepting your mother’s offer to have a driver sent as opposed to leaving an hour early to walk. Pistons fired as the vehicle bumbled down the lane on the way to the theater after your bags were loaded into the back seat by the driver. All of the pampering felt widely unnecessary.

     The crowds were large and the driver dropped you off at the front steps to the theater which was in a thrall over the spring program. Usually the Winterfest was the highlight of the year for the theater, but, from what you remembered growing up, spring concerts could attract a healthy sum of people on opening night. Obviously your parents wanted to attend on opening night despite the overwhelming number of people. 

     Your family’s wealth did not provide for a private box, but there were handsomely placed seats in the nosebleeds that allowed ample viewing of the stage unobstructed. There your parents were, waiting for you with drinks already ordered and seats saved for the four of you. There was a table for standing just behind the seats and you passed it before settling into the space next to your mother. 

     “I almost thought you were going to be late, it would have been a waste of ticket money,” your mother was charming as ever with the way her passive aggressive words edged on the line of cynical in tone and nature.

     After fruitlessly arguing with her to assure her you had plenty of time before the concert began, you listened to her drone on about work and home. Staff was getting more disagreeable by the day and she blamed it on them being from the undercity which you were quick to politely reprimand her on without sounding too upset. Apparently there was an accident at one of the manufacturing plants and protests ensued, leading your father to lay off over a dozen workers without a proper investigation. It was vile, and you felt your leg shake with agitation while trying to remain calm. 

     Beside you, Viktor’s knuckles were white from gripping the neck of his cane between his knees as he looked on at the empty stage, curtains still drawn in a red velvet wall, down below. He was attempting to go unnoticed and to not make a scene since he felt another trap brewing from your mother, egging him on by spitting on the undercity in such a benumbed manner. 

     There was no room for you to comfort him, even silently, since holding his hand or leaning on him around your parents would most likely result in a painstakingly grueling lecture about “public decency.” If you were with someone from Piltover, then the story would have been very different, but you chose Viktor and for that you would receive no grace. 

     “Let’s not talk about work,” you smiled at her as best you could, playing the role of loving daughter for her sake. 

     “One last thing,” she tapped your father on the arm, prompting him to hand her a small letter from the inner pocket of his suit, “this came a few weeks ago. We forwarded the message to you in a letter, but you never responded so I assume you never read it.”

     A broken seal told you exactly who it was from. The Galgaridon crest looked up at you in two torn pieces from the folded piece of paper. Just as the music was beginning from the orchestra pit, you unfolded it and began reading its contents; you read at an angle so Viktor could eye it if he wanted to.

     Caston Galgaridon wrote to your family home to explain his recent honorable discharge from the Noxian military after an injury sustained on the battlefield rendered him incapable of continuing his service. Part of you knew he must have put himself in harm's way on purpose after your last talk. Whatever the reason, be it accidental or intentional as suspected, he was informing your family of his new position in becoming the new head of the foundry your parents helped build all that time ago. Meaning they would be working directly through him for their Noxian transports and business ventures. 

     At least he had the decency to not write to you directly and respect your wishes for space. Little could be said for your parents as time crawled on. 

     “Why does this concern me?” you folded the letter with its familiar creases and reclined in your seat.

     “We thought you ought to know since you will be working with him once you’re done with schooling,” your father leaned forward to see past your mother who stared at the performance with feigned indifference, “and it’s important to maintain our partnerships.”

     “I don’t see how working in Noxus is relevant to my future career endeavors.”

     “No one ever said you had to relocate to Noxus,” his dry laughter said more than you needed to know, “regardless of your living arrangements, correspondence with the young master Galgaridon is still an important partnership.”

     Down on stage there were ballet dancers leaping across the polished wooden stage over fake prop pieces of florals and grasses moving in imaginary wind as violins encouraged them on. As chimes echoed in the background, you stole a glance at Viktor who turned just as you did, perfectly in sync with your movements without a word needing to pass between you. Honey colored eyes reflected the lights of the stage in the near darkness of the theater and they were full of a sweetened understanding that you could have melted into if you were back in your rooms with him. You were itching to feel him in any kind of embrace at that moment, but the desire to keep your parents’ feathers silky smooth kept you grounded in your nauseating discomfort.

     The past always had an ugly way of dredging itself up at the most inopportune time, but at least in that moment it was less of a real threat and more of an uncomfortable suggestion from your parents. It was a sour attempt to get you out of Piltover and away from Viktor, an obvious stabbing betrayal even if you were unsure it even counted as such when they had been so open with you about their disapproval already. 

     This is lovely, you had quietly remarked, pointing out the performance, leaning towards your parents. The little gestures were your only salvation it seemed.

     Polite conversation was able to spark between the four of you once you managed to get the first few pleasant words out about anything other than responsibilities. Managing to make your parents smile at you and Viktor during comments and jests felt like pushing a rock up a steep hill, arduous, but greatly rewarding once you reached the top and were able to rest at its peak.

     By the end of the concert the choppy waters felt unusually calm, whatever storm that had been brewing was either passed or on hold. The cab that came around the front of the building, to collect the four of you, already had your belongings strapped to the rear of the large carriage. 

     The trip back to the estate was long, as the hours passed, you all dozed off at different times. All except Viktor who took to admiring the changing scenery through the window even if the night outside prevented him from seeing much past the vague silhouette every now and then once you were out of the inner city. Housing towards the edge would range from modest dwellings to smaller unkempt apartments and eventually largely spaced out manors. Wide gaps in wealth were evident even topside it seemed. 

     He couldn’t help but think those lackluster apartments were right up your combined alley when it came to affordability since you refused to use your family funds. Over the last half year, you both were more frugal with your finances. Accepting that the y/l/n family fortune could be pulled out from under you at any moment made you both carefully calculate your means of living and you made sure to stay within those boundaries.

     Viktor also knew this weekend trip was a performance at its core and he was determined to play his part as quietly as he could manage. Willing to seem invisible for your sake and to not stir your parents’ emotions into barring down on you with their unrelenting barrage of disapproving opinions. Difficult as it was, considering he was usually emboldened at the academy, more confident in his field and among his colleagues. 

     Thankfully he managed to speak to your parents about his work when they appeared to ask with a genuine interest, prodding him to reveal his plans. 

******

Lush green hedges surrounded the property, or at least the innermost part of the property that contained the main house and gardens; it did not include the long drive up through manicured rolling landscapes and trees spotted throughout the scene. Leaves and twigs were collected in muslin sacks for disposal after the annual pruning and new buds were well into blossoming in time for the season. Birds skirted across a pond, rippling through the glass surface with beautiful disturbance coupled with their cacophony of squawks and honks. 

     Home was back at the academy for you, but there would always be a bittersweet nostalgia in returning to the estate for visits and this time was no different. You stepped out of the motorized carriage first, followed by Viktor and your parents in succession. Moonlight and lanterns provided a glow that came off in a haze against the evening mist. Starlight dappled in the blanket of night overhead and you wished to spend more time outside with Viktor in the fresh air, but you were hurriedly rushed inside by your parents who were too eager to show off their abode to a newcomer. 

     Even if Viktor was not their ideal guest, they were desperately trying to save face. Most of their disdain of him had been private comments made directly to you, so they must have thought he was none the wiser regarding their opinions of him.

     Given the late hour, the tour was rather short. They only showed him where they would be dining for breakfast, should you both like to join them that early, and the parlor where they spent most of their free time. Free time did not come often for your parents, but you assumed this weekend they would be lounging for once since they insisted on your staying over.

     “Don’t be shy about exploring. I’m sure y/n will take you around at some point as well,” your father passed through the large double doors that opened into a corridor not too far from your room. “Your things have been brought to the bedroom already, so you may retire if you wish.”

     Bidding your parents goodnight, you accepted their offer to be excused and took Viktor with you. 

     “I wish they were this nice all of the time,” you mumbled over your shoulder to Viktor once you were a few turns and rooms away from them. “They were so polite to you, why can’t it be real?”

     “Don’t concern yourself over things you cannot control.” Viktor followed you through the doors to your room, pulling the handles closed behind him with a low snap of pins falling into place and the lock setting. “For now, let's just be happy we’ve made it this far.”

    He was right. Fretting over wishes and complaints were never going to amount to anything and you were feeling more at ease being alone with him in the privacy of your room.

     Something you could control was at your fingertips. It teased at your tongue as you were feeling too shy to openly ask for anything explicit. Sitting on the edge of your canopy bed proved more than enough for a hint when Viktor joined you without suggestion. Evening clothes began to feel suffocating as you lost yourselves in a tangle of limbs and pleading whispers.

******

Morning came with a vengeance. You were undisturbed by maids or your parents, left to rest at your own leisure with Viktor in your bed and the curtains were still pulled back from the night before. Neither of you thought to close them which let the blinding white reflection of the sun wake you since you were facing large glass doors across the room. Scenic lawns softened the blow of the harsh sunlight and you blinked against its glow as a few squirrels sprinted across the window sill in leaping bounds, cheeks full of their gathering spoils.

     Blankets tempted you to remain in bed, but the idea of any staff or your parents poking in to check on you prompted you to drag yourself from the plush den and get ready for the day. Pushing open the double doors and opening the remaining curtains to let in more light, you wake Viktor up in the process. 

     Despite how sleepy you both still felt, there was something in the air that you couldn’t explain. It was like the hotel room when you got a taste of domesticity away from the academy together, playing pretend for a little while before having to return to work and research all while feeling like teenagers in adult bodies. 

     “I could get used to this,” Viktor held your hand with a reverence that made you blush when you sat next to him on his side of the bed where he was still laying.

     “The nice house?”

     “No,” his eyes closed, still tired, “this feeling, in this room. It’s like we’re married.”

     “Would you want to?” You moved your two hands together further implying what he just said.

     “Eventually.”

******

Easels with abandoned paintings were pushed into a corner of glass and plaster, leaving room for a large open space of stone that made up the floor to the old studio. Days were once spent toiling away at those easels much to the behest of your family, pouring your soul into the pieces that could only be referenced from the windows beyond your enclosure and images you had seen elsewhere during excursions or from books. There were plenty of those to go around in your home, but taking your art supplies out of the estate and beyond the property grounds was restricted. Encouragement for your creative hobbies was nonexistent since it was only seen as just that, a hobby and nothing more. Cursed be the day you first asked your mother for your beginner set of paints and a canvas. Over time your parents softened to the idea of you pursuing a meaningful pastime, giving you a wide berth for creative study under the guise of it remaining a hobby and you played that part as well as you could for years.

     Windows made up a wall of glass, an old sunroom connected to your bedroom through a short hallway only accessible to you. It must have once been a modest sitting room before the estate grew too large for it and it was abandoned until you burrowed your way into it as a child while exploring. Ivy still grew on the back of the house unlike the front where it was completely cleared away for structural integrity. 

     You were not about to thew Viktor in the history of your home and meaning of all of the rooms. Bringing him to your old studio was more of a thing of boredom and meandering through the halls with him until you thought to visit the old room which felt so strange after all that time away. Dust dated the years you were away despite your infrequent visits to the estate, the studio went on abandoned. 

     Chatter about the room ranged from explaining what mysterious containers and cups contained, since you were awful at labeling things outside of a shared classroom setting, to shyly tucking away old lackluster art that once left you for want of improved talent. 

     “It’s a time capsule,” Viktor looked around with curiosity, pretending he didn’t notice you stuffing a large drawing between canvases to his side. Those small graces were everything to you even if you knew full well you couldn’t get much past him even if you tried.

     “You can say that.”

     “You’ve always been an artist. I find that inspiring, to have held onto a passion this long with the opposition you’ve received because of it.”

     Red creeped up your face, or at least that was how it felt when your heart hammered at his words. Inspiration was a dry well and your addled mind was unable to accept that Viktor found it in you in some way. How you had managed to keep the man before you in your life for so long would continue to elude you and you were just thankful he showed no signs of leaving anytime soon. 

     “Where do you see us,” it was too late to retract once the words fell out of your blabbering mouth, “in a year or so?” His comment from that morning was worming through your brain.

     His sudden stoic expression, deep in thought, did nothing for your nerves so you continued to drone on in the hopes of answering your own stupid question or forcing him to move on and not answer you at all. The latter would have been better.

     “I mean, nothing serious, I’m not talking about- um - future plans with you and me,” you rubbed your forehead aggressively trying to find the right words to not scare him away. After a minute or so of rambling you gave up trying to sound coherent. “Forget I said anything.”

     “I’m assuming you only want me to respond regarding our careers, though I’d be glad to entertain ideas of what we’ll be in the future together,” his confidence in your relationship was unclear in the way he answered you so you asked him to not elaborate and instead let him talk about what you both might be doing once schooling was over. 

     With academics nearing a close, you wondered where he would work and if you would both become so busy you would belong to your jobs and lose time to live in the real world. Both of your fields were demanding and not conducive of a healthy atmosphere for maintaining a proper relationship if you were not careful with time management. 

     Viktor knew not to lose himself in his work, but you hadn’t a clue what the future had in store and how he would change, how he could change if circumstances forced his hand. Just the thought of losing the man in front of you made your stomach turn as you chatted through these possibilities without sounding too desperate for all of your curiosities to be answered in confidence. 

     “What if I hold you back?” You lamented, leaning against the glass overlooking those grassy fields you memorized as a child. “I want you to be great and belong to your work however you see fit without worrying about…me.”

     Whether you wanted to admit it aloud or not, you were unsure if this blissful companionship with Viktor would outlast your school days once you were both free of the academy should you both get jobs away from its labs. No matter what you did, Viktor would most likely become a successful researcher and inventor which would take him to the workshop guilds while your mother had hinted you’d be traveling to Noxus once you joined the family business.

     The future didn’t look prime for you and Viktor. 

     Arms encircled you, secure and warm in the room of glass. 

     “I am yours,” his face was set and calm in the effort to assure you without having to give you any grand speeches, “entirely and unconditionally.”

******

Entirely and unconditionally swam around your mind sweetly for the rest of the day and gave you some reprieve as you entertained your parents even though you and Viktor were supposed to be the guests. Instead of feeling as if it were the other way around, you were the one up in front of the couches by the grand fireplace telling them stories about school and from books much to your parent’s delight. 

     Animated gestures and vocal cues made their faces lighten up with a childish glee even when Viktor would chime in on your stories from where he sat in the overly ornate armchair. Despite having your parents there, it was nice to relive your memories from the academy with Viktor. 

     “Do you have any stories from the Kiraman labs?” Your mother leaned forward on her elbows as you turned the events of your lab over, organizing your thoughts to see if there were any comical stories. 

     “Not many involving me, but there have been a few explosions here and there from the other researchers,” your eyes glued to an ugly wall decoration across the room as you thought over it. “Well I was working on a project recently and the whole thing fell over into a mess of parts and gears.”

     You went on to tell them how that day had been an inventor’s disaster and you were at your wits end with the way your projects had been going and you detailed the whirlwind that was your office. It got to the part where you bumped into an old classmate that kindly assisted you with repairing your project, helping you progress with it further than you had before if ever fell.

     “So you do have friends,” your father jested. 

     For some reason it made you uncomfortable to think of it that way especially when you kept Jayce’s name out of it, “no we were just classmates a long time ago.”

     “But they remembered you anyways, must’ve been a memorable class,” your father let out a blubbering chuckle. “Who was it anyways?”

     Your neck felt cool from sweat and you regretted finishing the story, wishing you had left it after the part where you stormed away from the fallen project, “It doesn’t matter. No one important.”

     “Oh come now,” he leaned back in his seat and blew out a thick cloud from his pipe. “Worried I might know their parents like when you were a child?”

     “No it’s just he-”

     “A gentleman!” Your mother chimed in like you were all playing a guessing game.

     “And he works at the Kiraman labs, dear,” your father chattered away with guesses with your mother as you rolled your eyes, grinning uncomfortably at Viktor, “must be from a prominent family.”

     “Wrong again,” you teased knowing full well Jayce was from a lower house like you, but it was not as full of grandeur and prestige as your father was imagining.

     “Well play fair then, give us some decent clues,” your mother was all smiles and you managed to mirror her enthusiasm even if it was much calmer in comparison. 

     You stopped the makeshift game before it really took off, throwing yourself into another story that featured you and Viktor having lunch with Sky during the school trip so long ago. It seemed to satisfy their cravings for drama when part of the story was about a conversation the three of you unwillingly heard from a table over at the restaurant. 

     Throughout the rest of your social time with your parents, you’d occasionally catch Viktor looking at you with knit brows. It was unusual for him to stare at you like that and you knew it was because you refused to give up Jayce’s name during the storytelling. You hadn’t really told him about that day in the lab aside from having a hard time and he didn’t know who Jayce was at all, as far as you knew, since it seemed their paths had never crossed. 

     Inevitability gave you fair warning that he was going to ask you about who the mystery classmate was that night when you were back in your room trying to sleep. 

     Dinner time was easier since your parents had their friends join all of you that evening. This time you weren’t the only one telling stories; now it was your parent’s turn to peacock and entertain. Whether their friends actually cared was another matter since a few of them continued to mutter about business if the room would grow too quiet. 

     When it was loud with laughter, you had some semblance of privacy being able to talk with Viktor where you were both tucked away at the edge of the crowd. There you could talk about what you were going to do once you were free of this place and back at the academy. 

     Viktor seemed different, not upset, but tired of being around people who must have been weighing him down from how loud they were. The mystery classmate was in the back of his mind even if he knew it was irrational to worry. Keeping secrets was something he never did to you besides the occasional white lie that he wasn’t tired, he wasn’t in pain, or a new dish you worked hard to make was definitely not burnt. But this felt different in the way you held his hand in reassurance and gave him your full attention when he so much as cleared his throat. 

     “Relax,” he whispered after you asked him if anything was wrong for the fifth time that evening. It wasn’t a command and more of a sweetly delivered suggestion which put you in some ease, or at least stopped you from asking again. 

******

It was left unsaid, all of your shared thoughts over Jayce. You didn’t want to tell him who it was and part of him didn’t really want to know despite the curiosity. 

     “You know you can be honest with me,” Viktor said more so to the cloth above then directly to you, staring at the velvet canopy of your bed in the near darkness. 

     You were reading by your dimly warm bedside light when he broke the quiet. Closing the book carefully, you set it aside, “you’re talking about the story… from the lab.”

     His silence was your answer.

     “He was just an old classmate,” you leaned back, “I didn’t like my parents prying.”

     “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to do the same,” he sighed, “but I know he wasn’t just a classmate.”

     Hammering in your chest did nothing for your nerves and you tried to keep your breathing level once you remembered nothing got past Viktor. 

     “I didn’t-”

     “I know you didn’t cheat,” he laughed a little which put you at ease, “but you have history with him-” you covered his mouth, but he easily freed himself, “and that’s ok. I was just curious.”

     Talking helped. From gasps of surprise to laughing about things that were once very painful, Viktor told you about a night years ago where he came to see you late at night before you shared a dorm and before you ever began seeing each other exclusively. You listened wide eyed realizing he never brought it up with you before because he knew it was none of his business. He’d even forgotten about it until the mysterious classmate was brought up and he connected the dots since he knew you never really slept around back then either. There was no room to do so since you used to be attached at the hip even as friends. 

     “I’m so embarrassed,” you laughed at yourself thinking of that night you had answered the door as a disheveled mess, knowing Jayce had been hiding in the blankets.

     Viktor caught his breath after his own bout of laughter at something you said. It felt good to finally let go of the guilt even if he still didn’t ask you who the man was and you were content with keeping it that way. 

     We should get married, you could’ve sworn you heard him whisper as you were in and out of sleep after what felt like hours of joking around fighting it off. 

     Rational thought told you marriage was not in your future and you didn’t care much for the idea anyways. The tradition and pressure was an uninviting thought and you itched at the image of your parents weeping for the loss of your status by marrying down. It wasn’t like marriage would make much of a difference in your shared lives anyways.

     In the morning you both got up early and left when the fog was still thick across the grass fields and trees. It was a long drive back to the academy and you were ready to return to the dorms and close the curtains on this whole affair of entertaining your parents. 

******

[writingforfun7567]

Arcane Sisters of Mine fanfic

Chapter 4–A Light in the Dark

Chapter Index

Summary—After the deaths of their families, Ekko steps up as Y/N’s caregiver and the two start building up the Sanctuary. All other characters follow the canon (Vi is in prison, Jinx is with Silco, Jayce/Mel/Viktor still do their thing).

Warnings—Takes place between S1 Act 1–Act 2 during the timeskip. Ekko/Y/N focused. Parental death trauma, nightmare trauma, abandonment trauma. Using ‘Y/N’. Female-child-reader insert. POV changes. Let me know if I need anything else.

Words: 6,209

3rd POV

Ekko watches as Y/N finally tires herself out from crying and slumps against the boy. He sighs, sniffling wetly as he glances at Vander’s lifeless, hulking body. He sees the purple veins covering his exposed skin. Ekko winces slightly at the black eye that’s swollen shut before finally spotting the 3 stab wounds to his chest. While he wasn’t as close to Vander as the others were, Ekko certainly felt like Vander was another father figure for him and Vander had often told Ekko that he was his kid as well.

Ekko’s thoughts wander to Vi and Powder. Seeing Vi get taken by an Enforcer, Ekko’s almost certain Vi will be killed. And Powder….the man with her…the man with the eye. Silco. The one who ruined everything. Ekko remembers seeing how he embraced Powder. As if he connected with her on some level. He has to save Powder, Ekko thinks to himself. Ekko shifts Y/N so he stands while holding her against his body. She limply lays her head on his shoulder with her arms draped over his shoulders with his arms wrapped protectively around the little girl. Ekko glances around before deciding to go back to the Last Drop.

Ekko’s POV

As I hold Y/N in my arms, I glance around before deciding to head back to the Last Drop, assuming that Silco took Powder to wherever he must’ve been before confronting Benzo. The Last Drop would be empty now. I hurry back but stop and hide in an alleyway that faces the bar. I see some of the people Silco had with him out front as he walks through the front door with Powder in his arms.

“Guess that’s off-limits now,” I whisper to myself. All of Y/N’s stuff was in the bar. I guess I have to go back home. I’m greeted with Huck pacing outside the front door. He spots us and hurries over.

“There was an explosion-“ Huck tries telling me, but I nod, cutting him off.

“I know,” I say.

“What happened?” He asks nervously, but I shake my head sadly. He frowns.

“I’m…sorry,” Huck says, understanding what’s happened.

“But you should leave. Silco’s men have been scouring the place. It’s only a matter of time before he comes here,” Huck warns me. I nod in agreement.

“I just need a few things-“ I say, gently setting Y/N down.

“Where are you going to go?” Huck asks as I pack my canvas bag full of tools, the remaining food and money Benzo had, blankets, a change of clothes for Y/N, and my stopwatch.

“I’m…not sure. Are you leaving?” I ask.

“N-No…no, I think I’m going to see who else is left,” Huck responds.

“Take care of yourself Huck,” I tell him, offering a hand. We shake and Huck nods.

“You too,” he says, glancing at Y/N. He walks out, shutting the door behind us. I slip my arms through the straps of my bag before bending down to pick Y/N up. She mumbles and stirs in her sleep as I shift her in my arms before heading out.

Reader POV

I gasp awake, jolting up from being slumped against a wall. I look around and see I’m in an alleyway. I’m confused. Why am I outside? Did the others get Vander? Wait—I remember…fire. A building was on fire. I remember hearing Powder crying…Vi…Vi yelled at her and-and…hit her. Vi never hits us. Never—but..Vander…and the boys. Was that real or a nightmare? That’s when I hear a pounding sound. I get up and hurry around the corner. I see Ekko nailing up boards on the windows and across the doorway to the pawnshop.

“Ekko?” I ask timidly. He jumps slightly but when we make eye contact, he turns sad.

“Y/N—I…I’m so sorry,” Ekko says and I realize that everything that happened….really happened. It wasn’t a nightmare. I let the tears fall down my cheeks.

“I’ll take care of you, Y/N. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise,” Ekko assures me, pulling me in a hug. I cry a bit before I’m able to take some shallow breaths.

“Don’t leave me..please,” I whimper.

“Never, I promise,” Ekko says before I pull back and he grabs his pack off the ground.

“C’mon, we should move before Silco finds us,” Ekko says, offering me a hand. I take it and we start walking through the maze of alleys.

“Silco…” I repeat the name as we walk.

“Was that the man with Pow-pow?” I ask and Ekko nods.

“He took her, just like Marcus took Vi,” Ekko says.

“How do we get them back?” I ask the older boy and at first, he doesn’t answer. Instead, he looks away.

“I…don’t know. First we need a safe place to regroup. Enforcers will be swarming the Lanes any second now with the Sheriff dead,” Ekko says.

It doesn’t take long for the Enforcers to show up. Ekko holds me back against the wall so a passing Enforcer doesn’t see me and I nod my thanks. We make it to a dead end.

“Where do we go?” I ask.

“Here,” Ekko says, opening a grate. I silently crawl inside and he follows me.

The space opens up and we move through pipes, alleys and rooftops until we get to a place I don’t recognize. I’ve hardly been outside the Lanes anyways so I haven’t seen much of the Undercity, not like the others.

“We’re almost there,” Ekko tells me as I start panting. His shirt and forehead is sweaty but he doesn’t seem tired.

“Do you know where we are?” I ask.

“I’ve been here a couple times with Benzo. He knows some thrifters around this part of the Undercity. But, he’d always take me to this particular spot,” Ekko explains.

We slip in between 2 buildings and that’s when the space opens up to a huge area with…something brown and green in the center. As we walk in, the air becomes sweeter, lighter…cleaner, compared to the rest of the Undercity. My eyes widen and I stare in awe at it.

“Ekko…what is that?” I ask, pointing up. The light looks spotty since the green things block it.

“It’s a tree. Benzo said it’s the last tree in the Undercity. Most people don’t really know about this place since most of the buildings around here are abandoned,” Ekko tells me. I squeeze his hand at the mention of Uncle Benzo.

“Is this our new home?” I ask.

“It needs some work, but this place is ours,” Ekko nods. I smile but it turns sad when I think about my old home. The Last Drop.

3rd POV

Ekko slips his arms out of the straps and puts the canvas pack on the ground.

“Here, you should eat,” Ekko tells Y/N, fishing through the bag before pulling out a cloth tied at the corners. He undoes the loose knot and Y/N sees 2 golden biscuits and her mouth waters. Y/N takes one and Ekko takes the other. The two find a large rock to sit on and they start eating the slightly old biscuits Benzo made. They’re just glad to eat. Ekko swallows his bite before tears form in his eyes. Y/N looks up and notices. Ekko sniffles wetly and wipes his wrist against his eyes.

“Ekko?” Y/N asks, concerned for her older brother.

“I just…he made these for breakfast 2 days ago…Now that Benzo’s gone…these biscuits were the last thing he made,” Ekko says and Y/N suddenly freezes, not taking another bite.

“O-Oh…here, you can have mine,” Y/N says, offering her biscuit to Ekko, despite the bite mark in it.

“No-No I just…I’m sorry. Besides I can’t eat alone…we’re sharing his last meal together,” Ekko tells Y/N, who smiles and nods.

Almost a month has passed since everything happened. The first few days for everyone felt like a dream…no…a nightmare. Only Ekko and Y/N seem to be doing relatively alright compared to Vi and Powder. Ekko and Y/N built a small enclosure inside the base of the tree, supporting the roots with wooden boards and scrap metal. Y/N still asks every day about Powder and Vi and sometimes, Ekko doesn’t know what to say. During the first night alone, Ekko left Y/N to go try and get Powder back, but he was spotted by one of Silco’s guys. A large, muscular, pale man with almost gray skin and covered in tattoos had caught Ekko trying to sneak in through a vent shaft on the side of the building. Ekko barely got away and decided he should be looking after Y/N instead. If anything happened to Ekko, Y/N would be all alone. And he promised the girl he wouldn’t leave, ever.

The kids are inside their makeshift hut. Y/N is coloring while Ekko lays on the pile of blankets they use as a bed.

“Ekko?” Y/N asks, getting the boy’s attention.

“Hm?”

“I know you said you were gonna wait to get Pow-pow, but what about Vi?” Y/N asks and Ekko looks uneasy.

Ekko’s POV

“But what about Vi?” Y/N asks me and I look uneasy. It’s not like Y/N hasn’t asked about Vi but Powder has been closer, and all I know about Vi is that she’s somewhere topside. If she’s even still alive. Maybe that Enforcer, Marcus, killed her and left her somewhere. I try to push that thought away.

“I..I know we have to get her too. But she got taken by Marcus, remember?” I ask Y/N, wondering if she remembers everything from that horrible night. She nods sadly and my heart breaks for her.

“I…was planning to see if anyone knows anything…you know, ask around,” I explain. Y/N gasps and a wide, excited smile spreads across her face.

“N-Now Y/N-I..I don’t wanna get your hopes up-“ I try to tell Y/N as gently as I can.

“Someone must’ve seen them leave-“ Y/N insists.

“Hopefully, but I can’t promise anything-“ I tell her and she nods.

“Let’s go right now-“ she says, tossing her colors down on the floor.

“I need you to stay here where it’s safe,” I tell her and that’s when I see her eyes widen and a far away look shines in her eyes.

“No! NOOO!!! You can’t leave me!! You promised!” She suddenly exclaims as tears start streaming down her face. A familiar memory of Powder suddenly freaking out makes me see the similarities between the two younger sisters.

“Y/N? Y/N! It’s ok! If you promise to do everything I say, no questions asked, I’ll let you come,” I insist.

“R-Really?” She asks, sniffling, wiping her nose. I nod.

“I promise,” she says seriously and holds out her pinky. I smile and lock my own with hers before taking my shirt and wiping away the tears still covering her cheeks.

“Ok, I know a couple people we can ask,” I tell her. She looks at me curiously.

“Jericho, and maybe Margot,” I explain and she nods. There are others but I’m sure they wouldn’t use the same level discretion. And we can’t have word going around.

“C’mon, stay with me,” I tell her and we head out. I lock the door with the padlock I found rummaging through the scrap heaps. I keep the key on a chain.

We walk through the streets until we pass the Last Drop. It’s a bit of a walk now but it’s safer for Y/N being farther away. Jericho’s isn’t far, just across the block. I’m holding Y/N’s hand until her smaller hand slips out of mine. I look back and feel slight anxiety rise until I see she’s just…standing…staring. I wonder for a moment what she’s looking at until I follow her gaze and see a familiar head of blue hair. I freeze in shock, just as Y/N is until I feel my legs running towards her. It’s her! Powder! And Silco is with her!

“Wait for me!” I hear Y/N call after me. I slow to a stop. Because they’re walking away, they don’t see us.

“Powder?” I ask. She freezes and stiffens. I hear Y/N catch up and feel her cling to my side. A silent moment passes as Powder slowly turns around. My eyes widen and sadness washes over me when I see tears forming in Powder’s muddy blue eyes.

“Jinx? What’s wrong?” Silco asks Powder.

Reader’s POV

“Jinx? What’s wrong?” The man with Powder asks her. I gasp and my eyes widen.

“J-Jinx?” I ask and it’s like she just now notices me. I let go of Ekko’s pant leg and hurry towards my older sister until Ekko puts a hand on my shoulder, stopping me.

“Who are they Jinx?” The man…Silco…asks. She looks at me, then at Ekko before shaking her head!

“I don’t know,” she replies, grabbing hold of the thin hand outstretched to her. My eyes widen and tears form in my eyes. I pull out of Ekko’s grip and take a few steps towards my older sister.

“Pow-pow-it’s me-“ I insist. “C’mon-“ I reach out my hand to her. I flinch when she immediately steps away, pulling her hand back. What? Why?! Why isn’t she coming?! I don’t understand! I feel the tears start to slip out of the corners of my eyes.

“Powder! It’s us! Tell her!” I cry to Ekko, pulling on his arm, but that’s when I see he has his own tears streaming down his face.

“I’ve never seen them before,” Powder says to Silco.

“Stay away from my daughter-“ Silco snaps at me and Ekko instinctively steps in front of me protectively.

I watch as the two walk towards the bar’s front door.

“Powder! Please! Come back!! Come BAAAACK!!!!” I plead, sobbing. I try racing after them, but Ekko grabs hold of me. I look back and see that he’s crying too.

“We have to go!” Ekko orders. I turn back and see that Powder and Silco are gone. The door opens and two people stare right at us, walking towards us.

“Now!” Ekko snaps, picking me up as I cry. Ekko eventually has to set me down and pulls me along as we run. I glance behind us every now and then, but I don’t see anyone following us.

We round a corner and hide in a small alley that’s basically all pipes and duck behind a giant rusted out pipe. The two following us run by and Ekko sighs with relief.

“C’mon, let’s go back,” Ekko tells me and I nod, still thinking about what Powder said. I follow him as we step out of our hiding spot and we hurry back to our hideout. I have to wipe my eyes every so often.

Once we get back inside, I look at Ekko.

“Why? Why did Powder say that? Why didn’t she come with us?” I ask, still crying.

“I…I don’t know,” Ekko admits, just as confused as I am.

“Powder doesn’t love me anymore!” I cry.

“No! No Y/N-Powder just…had to say that. Silco was with her. Who knows what he does to her…what he says to her,” Ekko assures me. I sniffle and pull back to look at my older brother.

“R-Really?” I ask timidly, hiccuping slightly.

“She’s your sister Y/N. Powder will always love you, no matter what,” Ekko tells me, squeezing me slightly as he says that.

“And I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you. I’ll always be here for you,” Ekko adds, gently stroking the back of my head lovingly. Meanwhile…

Silco’s POV

“Stay away from my daughter,” I growl at the two kids after seeing how distressed my newly adopted daughter looks. Holding the blue-haired girl’s hand, I walk her inside the bar, hearing the cries of the younger kid as the door closes. I hear crying and look down. What started as quiet sniffling has evolved to a sobbing mess.

“Jinx? Jinx, it’s ok. I’m here for you,” I assure her, kneeling down and offering open arms. Powder, now calling herself Jinx, immediately wraps her scrawny arms around me tightly and cries. Knowing not to ask her anything, instead I think back on what happened. Those kids didn’t say any names or any useful information, but it’s clear they know Jinx. I’ll have to keep her away from them.

“You can always talk to me about anything child, if you want,” I offer. She pulls away and looks at me. I give her a gentle smile and a small nod. Ever since meeting Jinx in the alley, I’ve promised her…and myself, that I’d give her the life I wished I had. I had Vander, sure, but he left, just like Jinx’s sister, so I understand. She nods.

“Can you make my juice?” She asks me and I nod.

“Of course,” I say and head behind the bar while Jinx climbs up on a barstool. I look and see her cup on the lower shelf behind the bar. It’s covered with her drawings. I pull out the fruit juice before setting her cup in front of the girl. I pour until the cup is full before dropping in the metal straw.

As Jinx sips on her drink, I think about the two kids we saw. When Vander had told me that he took in a 5 children, I remember Benzo had agreed with him and said that he also took in a boy orphaned in the failed rebellion. I’m pretty sure that dark-skinned boy from earlier, was the one Benzo took in. That means…that younger girl with him…I vaguely remember Vander talking about a newborn when he told me about the children he took in. I wonder if that newborn was the little girl. I can’t be certain yet, not until Jinx wants to talk, but I’m almost sure that that little girl…is Jinx’s younger sister.

Vi’s POV

The last thing I remember is blacking out, trying to get to Powder. I groan, waking up in a cold, cement box. Once my vision comes to me, I look around and see a flat mattress, a metal toilet in the corner along with a rusted out sink. One of the walls is just metal bars and I realize I’m in prison!

“Ugh-“ I groan, shaking off the daze. My thoughts immediately go to Powder as I push myself up off the cold cement floor. I stagger over to the bars and grab hold to support myself. The blood from what happened still coats my knuckles. I shut my eyes when I remember how harshly I hit Powder and how she…looked at me. She was terrified of me. But she still cried for me, pleading for me to come back for her. I’m so sorry Powder. I’m so sorry.

“Lemme out-“ I order weakly before I start to really wake up and come to. I blink a few times before feeling my energy return.

“Hey! HEY!!! LEMME OUT OF HERE!! I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!!!” I start yelling.

“Silence!” I hear a low, intimidating voice boom. I look and see a large man, larger than Vander, walk by in an Enforcer’s uniform, though with no helmet. His dark beady eyes glare down at me.

“You’ll learn quick that in here, you do as I say,” he growls at me, opening my cell. Now’s my chance! I rush forward and try jumping out of the way of his grip. I grab hold of one of the metal bars as I’m suddenly stopped. I’m yanked backward and tossed into the concrete wall.

“GAH!” I yelp, crumpling to the floor with a groan. Everything’s spinning and I feel weak again. He grabs his stick and strikes me hard and quick. I’m able to block with my forearms, but the power alone is enough to make my cry out in pain. After the 3rd hit, I black out.

3rd POV

After about a month passes, Vi learns quickly how to survive Stillwater Prison. The first few sleepless nights were the worst. All she could think of was Powder…and Silco standing over her, ready to kill her. She was going to get to her until—Marcus. Anger boiled in Vi at the thought of him. Sometimes, her thoughts drifted to Y/N, but remembered that Ekko was also in the area and hoped and prayed to anyone that would listen that the two kids stayed together.

During that month, word of the explosion in the Undercity has made it’s way topside. Most in Piltover, however, do not care. However, there is one man in particular, who has taken note of this news. Jayce Talis. Mr. Talis had been in possession of special blue glowing stones called Hexcrystals until he was robbed by Vi and her siblings, including Powder. During the robbery, an explosion destroyed his apartment. All but the one from his desk were lost. Jayce had assumed that the other Hexcrystals were destroyed in the explosion. He also briefly wondered if the Hexcrystals caused the explosion. Until he heard about the blue explosion in the Undercity, he assumed that either way, the other Hexcrystals were destroyed. But now…Jayce is faced with the possibility that others are still out there…in the Undercity. However, now partnered with Viktor, Professor Heimerdinger’s assistant, Jayce hardly has the time to follow up with the robbery case, especially now that Sheriff Greyson is dead. The new Sheriff of the Enforcers is Marcus, who still reports to Silco. Most Enforcers don’t know and think his crass personality is just who he is, not because he is working for Silco.

As Sheriff, Marcus is often cold towards the Enforcers under him and typically has unpleasant interactions with the rookie, Caitlyn Kiramman. Caitlyn’s been training since she was about 16 and despite being a good shot, she is still quite naive in certain regards. The Kiramman family is one of the wealthiest families in Piltover and the matriarch of the family, Cassandra, is even on the city Council.

Time Lapse—3yrs

3rd POV

3 long years have passed since Vander’s death and the explosion at the cannery. Vi’s first few months were rough. Nearing 20, Vi still gets nightmares about what happened and she can’t help but think the worst has happened to her little sisters. Powder has grown into a wild, but still emotionally damaged 13yr old. Thanks to Silco and his resources, he’s able to get her all sorts of books and materials to perfect her bombs. Ekko is 14 now and has also grown into an excellent inventor and tinkerer as well as an overprotective older brother for Y/N, who’s now a rambunctious but incredibly intelligent 7yr old. Ekko and Y/N also try to help out those affected by Shimmer and who oppose Silco and his growing empire. There is a small group of 5 people who now live in the hidden safe haven with Ekko and Y/N.

Because she’s older now, Ekko has to keep a closer eye on Y/N since she has a tendency to do what she wants and go head first into fights, something that reminds Ekko of Vi. She’s also wicked smart like Powder and he’s a bit jealous of how easily math and physics came to the little girl, but he’s happy for her all the same. She even helped Ekko come up with the idea of a hoverboard, for easier transportation. The two are still working on the physics and design but it’s a nice project to help keep Y/N’s mind off her sisters, who she asks Ekko about every day.

In the 3 years that have passed, Ekko’s seen Powder, now going by Jinx, 2 other times. He caught Jinx out with Sevika and she screamed at him to go away, threatening the boy with a homemade pistol. The other time Ekko had seen Jinx alone and ambushed her. Ekko tried to get through to her, but Jinx managed to get free and tackled Ekko, beating him into submission. She stopped after the 3rd or 4th hit when she saw him look at her in fear. In that moment, Jinx knew that Ekko saw her…the real her.

Despite those interactions, Ekko refused to tell Y/N, even though she constantly asked about her older sisters. He doesn’t want to…taint..the relationship Y/N still thinks she has. She’s only 7 and from what she’s told Ekko, she remembers seeing Vi slap Powder so hard the blue-haired girl fell to the ground and Y/N remembers hearing Vi call her a jinx. Protecting Y/N from the truth of what’s happened has been hard for Ekko and as he’s gotten older, he’s wondered if this was how Vi felt, shielding everyone as best she could. It doesn’t help that there are others now who also depend on him. Luckily, the others that have joined him and Y/N all help out around the sanctuary so he’s not doing everything. One of those is a male Vastaya named Scar. He’s one of the older ones, and he’s taken a sort of protector/teacher role to Ekko, being a few years older than the dark-skinned boy. He’s also become great friends and also another older brother figure to Y/N. He helped Ekko and Y/N build the storage room, medical room and even helped expand the main housing building and built upwards onto the tree’s thick, strong limbs.

In the passing years, Piltover has progressed and grown thanks to Jayce Talis and his partner, Viktor, leaving the Undercity of Zaun further behind. It doesn’t help since Vander is gone and Silco is left to fill the vacuum of power. He’s used his Shimmer production to control the citizens of Zaun and further his own empire. Thanks to Marcus, Silco’s Sheriff on the inside, the crime boss has gone unnoticed by the Councilors of Piltover.

Because of his success, Jayce has gotten the attention of Mel Medarda, an influential Councilor member. She hasn’t really made waves in her position, not until she met Jayce at his hearing 3 years ago. She’s taken an interest in the young inventor, much to Viktor’s annoyance. Viktor, a disabled young man from the Undercity, partnered with Jayce originally because they vowed to improve the lives of those in the Undercity. Now that politics have gotten involved, Viktor finds that particular part of his work tedious. In the Undercity…

Y/N’s POV

I’m with Ekko while the others are out salvaging in the junk heaps. I’m coloring while he listens to music on the record player we found and fixed up. I’m still looking for an extension chord so we can take it outside. I finish the picture I’m drawing. My family. Me, Ekko, Powder and Vi all together, here at our tree. I even drew Scar off to the side next to Ekko.

“Ekko, now that I’m older, can I go see Powder?” I ask him. He sighs and shuts his eyes.

“Y/N, I told you Powder doesn’t want to come with us,” Ekko tells me.

“I know that’s what you said, but if I talk with her, maybe-“ I try, but he gives me a look.

“No. She’s made her choice,” Ekko says curtly.

“That’s not fair! You won’t even let me try! She’s my sister!” I argue angrily.

“Powder’s gone Y/N—all that’s left is Jinx. She’s not who you remember,” Ekko snaps.

“No! No she’s Powder! Not Jinx! Please Ekko, let me try!” I beg.

“She’s not your sister anymore. She’s changed,” Ekko insists.

“I can talk to her. Please Ekko! I deserve to try!” I argue. He sighs.

“Y/N…remember when I came home beaten and bloody…I told you that it was a street fight?” Ekko tells me and I nod, remembering how he looked. His left eye was swollen and black, his nose was bloody and his lip was split and bleeding down his chin.

“Well…that wasn’t exactly what happened…I know I should’ve told you the truth, but I didn’t wanna hurt you-“

“What happened?” I ask, interrupting. He sighs and looks away.

“I…I tried talking with Powder but…she didn’t want to hear anything I had to say. She made it perfectly clear to me that she is Jinx before beating the shit outta me,” he explains. My eyes widen.

“N-No…No sh-she wouldn’t-“ I try defending Powder, but Ekko shakes his head.

“She’s not your sister anymore Y/N. I’m sorry but Jinx is all that’s left of her,” Ekko says as I start to cry. He walks over to me and gives me a gentle but affirming hug.

Ekko manages to calm me down just as the door opens. I pull back and we both turn to see Scar hurry inside.

“Little Man-there’s something you need to see-“ he says urgently. Ekko looks down at me.

“I’m sorry,” he says gently, “stay here until I get back ok?” Ekko says and I glance away before nodding once. I watch as he and Scar hurry out, leaving me alone.

Once I’m alone, I think on everything Ekko told me about Powder. She’s not your sister anymore. The name Jinx causes me to stop. I remember how Powder would tell me how she was afraid of being a jinx to Vi and the boys. Since she hates that name, I don’t like that name either. I know I could get through to Powder if I just talked with her. I know Ekko doesn’t want me to ‘cuz he thinks I’ll get hurt, but she’s my sister. I deserve the chance to try. He stopped me from trying to go to Vi and Powder 3 years ago…I can’t let him do that again. I grab my worn out boots and shove them on before hurrying out, slamming the door behind me.

I race through the streets. Now that we’ve been here for a little while, I’m more familiar with the area and I can easily navigate my way through alleys, pipes, streets, and even the sewers. In no time, I’m back at the Lanes…our old home. I hide in the shadows and peek out from a narrow alleyway to look for any of Silco’s goons. From what Ekko’s told me, they mostly hang around the bar but some do go out and walk around. I make sure it’s clear before hurrying out and moving towards another, closer alley. I hide behind some broken wooden crates before watching the front door to the Last Drop open. My eyes widen when I see it’s Huck! I’m about to call out to him when I suddenly catch sight of his face. He looks…different. His eyes are glowing a sickly pinkish purple color.

I stay silent and wait for Huck to pass before running past the front door to the side alley. I hide behind some trash as the side door to the bar opens! I gasp quietly and freeze when I see Powder walk out! Her clothes are different and her hair is longer and in 2 braids now.

“Pow-pow?” I ask. She stops and turns around so I step out into the open. Her eyes widen and tears start streaming down her face.

“Y/N?” She asks and a wide smile grows on my face as I run towards my older sister. I leap at her and cling to her waist. She doesn’t move at first until I feel her arms wrap around me and grip tight. I feel her shake before dropping to her knees, sobbing. I feel myself starting to cry as well. After all this time. Together again.

“I’m sorry-I’m sorry-I’m sorry-I’m sorry-“ She sobs, repeating over and over, each time her grip tightening.

“I-I left you..like—“ she suddenly says pausing. I pull away and see the terrified look in Powder’s eyes. But…it’s like she’s looking in the distance. She gasps suddenly and pulls away from me.

“No-NO!! I-It is you—you are real…aren’t you?” Powder suddenly asks me.

“W-What? Pow-pow it’s me-Y/N…c’mon I’m taking you home,” I tell her, offering a hand. She reaches out to me but stops and pulls back.

“I..I am home. I never left,” she tells me, looking at the door.

“Powder I need you-“ I beg, “please!” She shuts her eyes and backs away, covering her ears with her hands.

“No-stop! Stop it!” She says angrily, almost as if in pain.

“Powder please!-“ I plead.

“Stop calling me that! It’s Jinx now!!” She snaps at me.

“You’re not a jinx!! You never jinxed me!! Please Powder!” I beg, starting to cry as I feel my heart being ripped apart.

“Shut up! All of you!” Powder snaps and I flinch slightly.

“H-Huh?” I ask, confused.

“I hafta think!” She says.

“C’mon! Ekko is waiting for us-“ I insist. Her eyes widen at the mention of the boy, who I see as an older brother. I’m not sure how the two of them feel about each other.

“It’s ok, I’ll protect you now,” I tell her, reaching out and gently grabbing her hand. She gasps and looks down at our interlocked hands before looking down at me. She suddenly jerks away.

“Everyone shut up!” She snaps, seemingly talking to her side.

“Y/N!!” A familiar voice suddenly calls out. Our eyes widen and we turn to see Ekko staring at us. He looks between the both of us.

Ekko’s POV

“Y/N!!” I call out. The two girls turn to see me, their eyes wide and full of surprise and shock. I look between the both of them.

“Ekko! I-I was just-“ Y/N stutters slightly. I shake my head.

“We’ll talk later. Are you alright?” I ask. She nods.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” She asks.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t she be?” Jinx growls at me. I steady myself before looking at Y/N and motion for her to come, not saying a word. She frowns and looks between me and Jinx. Jinx seems to realize the choice Y/N has to make. Jinx’s eyes widen and she takes a protective stance in front of Y/N, grabbing her shoulder.

“You will not take her from me!” Jinx snaps at me.

“Does that mean you’ll come with us?” Y/N asks, causing Jinx to pause.

“No-I…I mean-I-but…but…I can’t-“ Jinx stutters, shutting her eyes and shaking her head as her hands come up to squeeze the sides of her head, gripping her hair tightly.

“Yes you can! We’ll protect you,” Y/N insists. Jinx backs away from her and shakes her head. While Jinx looks distracted, I hurry over and pull Y/N back towards me.

“I..I want to stay with him,” Jinx says and our eyes widen. Y/N gasps.

“But Silco’s a bad man-how could you-?” Y/N asks, when Jinx suddenly screams and pulls out her pistol and points it right at Y/N’s head!

“SHUT UP! He was there for me! YOU DON’T KNOW!!” Jinx yells at Y/N, who flinches, hiding behind me. Despite the gun, I stand firmly as Jinx switches her aim to me.

“Stay away from me! Both of you!” She growls, glaring at me, then down at Y/N, who whimpers.

“B-But Powder-“ Y/N tries.

“Jinx! I am Jinx!! Go away!! GO AWAY!!” Jinx yells and that’s when I hear footsteps from inside. I grab hold of Y/N, despite her protesting and run as fast as I can, trying to keep hold of the squirming, wiggling girl.

We get to the junk heaps where we used to scavenge and I have to put Y/N down as she cries. I frown.

“I…I’m sorry Y/N…I didn’t want you to find out that way-“ I try telling her.

“W-Why? Why did Powder do that? We’re her family too-“ Y/N cries, clearly not understanding. I shake my head sadly.

“I don’t think she’s Powder anymore. All that’s left is Jinx and she belongs to Silco,” I tell her. As much as I hate to admit it, especially to a 7yr old, I don’t think Jinx will ever be Powder again. At least, not how I remember Powder. I hear Y/N sniffling so I turn around and kneel down.

“Here, hop on,” I offer. She climbs up onto my back and I loop my arms under her legs as she wraps her arms around my neck before starting to walk home.

End.

Chapter 5

[hermaeusmorax]

In Their Shadow

CHARACTERS: Viktor x reader x Jayce

SUMMARY: Viktor entertains a one-sided love with his two best friends, Jayce and you.

WARNINGS: angst with NO happy ending and NO comfort, I wanted to try something different!

A/N: fortunatelly the Arcane brainrot brought me back from my cave, be nice 'cause I'm rusty af in writing atm (as expected after 4 years!). I am also taking more Arcane requests yay! (rules for requests)

Viktor, Jayce and Y/N. The Three Musketeers. If you saw one of them around, no doubt the other two were somewhere nearby, inseparable as they are. What others looking from outside didn't see though, was Viktor's growing resentment towards his two best friends.

It didn't start like this, Viktor used to love them. Love, love them. He still does, but it's twisted now, love and anger so mixed together it's impossible to distinguish which is which. His affection began souring through disappointment at first, Viktor felt disappointed in Jayce for being distracted, their - yours - project suddenly wasn't Jayce's main concern anymore, you were.

When you weren't around Jayce would pester Viktor with daydreams and questions about you "Can you help me find out what's Y/N's type, man? You're way closer to Y/N than I am, please?". Jayce's eyes would shine and his cheeks flush, so enthralled in his own feelings he failed to notice Viktor's growing irritation.

Along the many years the three of you spent together working on Hextech, Viktor couldn't help but be in awe of his two companions. He fell in love with Jayce's passion and with your bright mind. Viktor wanted nothing more than to spend eternity alongside you, picking your brains. But as the two of you grew closer, specially after Jayce's reciprocated advances towards you, you both naturally drifted apart from him.

Viktor was forced to watch on the sidelines, drowning in the darkness of the long shadow your bright relationship cast over him. Left only to daydream about what it could've been like, had he had the courage to tell you or Jayce of his true feelings. Left only to reminisce about the early days of your shared research, when he indeed had the both of you to himself. As an attempt to anesthetize his festering wound, he threw himself at his work on the Hexcore.

Yet another day comes to an end, with Jayce leaving the laboratory with you glued to his arm, both dressed in fancy clothes for a dinner party you were supposed to attend, together, of course. You wave a gloved hand at Viktor, bidding him a gentle goodbye. It irritated him how oblivious you both could be to his true feelings, scientists of the damn year! As the door closed behind you, Viktor was left alone in the dark of the laboratory, so focused on his own misery that he missed when Sky knocked at the door. "Viktor? You still here?" she shyly called from the other side, smile faltering at the deafening silence that followed.

Sky knew he was still there, as it was an habit of his. The tinkering sounds and occasional curses that echoed through the door were just extra proof of his presence. Viktor was so preocuppied with the shadow your and Jayce's love had cast over him, he didn't notice he had cast one of his own. Such is life.

A/N: it physically hurt me to do him so dirty I'M SORRY! Promise to do lots of indulgent and Viktor-focused pieces too, I'm getting my writing groove back on ;).

[wisteria-bae]

“Reader has black hair and blue eyes-“

THEN ITS NOT AN X READER!!???

Edit below cut

Hey guys, so when I made this post, I was extremely frustrated and annoyed. Now that I’m way more mellowed out and had the chance to read a lot of reactions and responses, let me act my age and actually clarify some things.

First, I want to apologize to those who were deeply upset by my post. My post overall was towards those who claim they don’t write for a specific audience, and yet put specific descriptions in their work. There is absolutely NOTHING wrong with adding certain details to your reader, such as gender or body type. The issue comes in when you don’t properly title and tag it as so, or completely ignore it altogether.

If you see my post as an eye opener and want to change up your work, then you have every right to do so, but please do not think that this is an attack or jive directed at you. It’s just that some of us readers want exactly as promised. That’s like blindfolding someone, telling them that you’re gonna feed them an apple, and then making them bite into a banana - peel and all.

I know some writers have said that they want to be more inclusive in response to my criticism. If that is what you truly want, then by all means, but I cannot stress enough: write what YOU want to write. Do not feel as though you’re being pressured to change what you put out; it’s just a means of how you categorize it.

Thank you to everyone who took the time to read, respond, and engage with my original post. I truly appreciate the perspectives shared, they’ve helped me see things more clearly and refine my thoughts.

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Should I make a Percy Jackson full series/episodes x reader?

It’d be he full series, and maybe we can do a poll for who the love interest of the fic could be!

Or would y’all like for me to put back my arcane x oc fic??

Ocs name is Raina, she is the childhood friend of Powder and Ekko, taken in by Vander as a young child and raised alongside Vi, Powder, Mylo and Claggor.

She is Powders age, Ekko and Powders best friend, act 2 she is 6’0+, open bisexual icon, and a bit of Jinx x oc with hints of Ekko x oc

Jinx is the main love interest, and Raina has problems with feelings and involves Ekko in it bc he was an extension of Powder and Raina clings onto any little tie of the girl she used to love even if she says she hates Jinx

Psssttt, liar.

Or my twdg x oc fic

My oc is a child at Ericsson, and has been ever since they were a kid. They’re best friends with Louis, and Marlon while being ex-flings/situationship with Vi who uses them to get over Minnie until Clementine shows up.

[abysstrap-ran]

❖ Deficit Yearnings Ch.2

(Viktor x Mage!Reader)

A/N: Disclaimer that I truly have no idea what I'm doing bc this is a very old draft and I'm 3x more rusty with writing than when I started this, so take it as you will. Might... draw up some hcs or some sort though. Arcane is eating my brain.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

“Firelights; so vibrantly green. The colour of Vitality, a symbol of hope.”

Of all things that would be Viktor’s perpetual undoing, of course it had to be something out of the realm of the science he was so familiar with. What were his attempts at a second chance at life, if not nought but futile?

The exalted fumes of the mines… The invisible scars it left. The corrosion within that spread, silently, deadly; until it was all too late.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

It had been a long day, and rough was a severe understatement for the week. Weeks, to be precise.

Their new project had literally run them through the wringer and from the looks of it… It would probably take them about a couple more weeks at best to figure out. 

Sure, the spare parts he’d gotten from his last errand run down to the Undercity did turn out to be the exact breakthrough that they’d been seeking, but it had also brought along with it a whole other slew of problems. Ones that they had to fix before they could even produce something worthy of calling a prototype. A prototype that would gain them the council's favor, or any bigshot out there who could help fund their ventures. 

Or, maybe attend a fundraiser party or two.

Viktor grimaced at the thought. 

No, definitely not parties. He hated those. Although Jayce would gladly beg to differ… Probably. 

Jayce was more often than not the more socially inclined of the duo, and loathe as he may be, Viktor had to admit that he would much rather be in the lab than greet others with pleasantries and a forced smile.

His conflicting thoughts must have reflected plain as day on his face, because Jayce had taken one look at him, hunkered down from his incessant pacing, and promptly fixed him with an inscrutable look.

Running a hand over his face, Jayce gestured at the mess of papers before them — heaps and piles of blueprints, theories, research papers and folios of all kinds laid spread out upon their shared workspace. 

“I think we should call it a day, Viktor.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“We’ve been at it for a week now, and we both know we need a break. When was the last time we really had a good night's sleep? And… the numbers of all the calculations we've been bickering about left and right are honestly starting to blur.”

Viktor had been affronted by his blatant dismissal at first, but that irritation soon disappeared upon seeing Jayce rub his tired eyes. Jayce was right. An exhausted mind would do them no favors.

Last he checked, he’d thought that it was a Tuesday, but a quick glance down at the calendar to the right told him otherwise. 

It was Friday, and it was already way past sundown, judging from the inky darkness outside.

“Alright. We’ll come back to this tomorrow.” 

And that had been the end of it. A right shower and a good night's rest today, and he'll be right as rain and ready to take on their not-so-little tech problem!

Or so, he thought; only for a niggling itch that had been at the back of his throat the entire week to make itself known just as he settled down to sleep in his academy-funded apartment. This time, with a vengeance. 

He sat back up with a faint grumble, lean fingers moving in ever-familiar motions in an attempt to soothe the irritation away. Like a worm, stubborn and persistent, it wiggled its way out of his throat into a rasping cough. 

Perhaps some warm sweet milk would be enough to soothe him to sleep — but wait, he’d bought herbal leaves for tea, hadn’t he?

Reluctantly drawing himself out of the warm comforts of the covers, he padded to the kitchen for a drink.

Viktor reached into the once-forgotten bag he’d gotten from the apothecary, feeling around for the bottled herb, only for his fingers to brush against the cool surface of not one vial, but two. 

Two?

His brow furrowed as he withdrew the vials out of the bag, setting it onto the counter with a faint clink. He was pretty sure he hadn't paid for this, which meant that the owner had thrown that in with his purchase free of charge.

There it sat, innocuously, along with its attached note, the ink glinting under the light of his kitchen. It was a small bottle of harmless-looking white salve.

‘Balm for your aches’ was written in a simple script. 

For… his aches? Viktor’s brow furrowed. Was his discomfort that obvious that even a stranger could pick up on it?

It wasn’t every day that someone received a handout free of charge; especially not in the Undercity. Which then begged the question — had you done it out of goodwill? Or… was it to curry a favor that you'd undoubtedly collect on someday? He still recalled how you’d thought of him as a topsider, which meant that you probably had some “merit” to gain from him.

Whichever the case, he supposed he'd find out eventually. Setting the balm aside, he picked up the vial of leaves he'd previously purchased, and went on to make the cup of tea that he'd been seeking.

A few minutes later saw him settled back under the covers, a steaming mug in hand. 

The warm liquid soothed his scratchy throat as he sipped from it, the leafy concoction quelling the itch that seemed to have permanently made its home there more often than not.  He watched the way the wispy steam rose and disappeared while the gears in his head turned, mulling over what could have gone wrong with their newest project. Opening his notebook, he revised the calculations and formulas they'd previously been bickering over. 

Had they miscalculated? No, he'd personally checked them multiple times over, and they were tried and true. A missing gear, perhaps? Or… were they perhaps taking the wrong approach to their problem? 

As the cogs turned, so did the onset of the accumulated exhaustion over the past few days. Warm, and no longer plagued by an ever-persistent cough, a comfortable fog settled over his brain, and he set his cup aside. The night was serene, and the muted sounds of the city of progress slowly but surely lulled him to rest.

He’d leave tomorrow’s problems for tomorrow.

⊹ ━━━ ✥ ━━━ ⊹

Meanwhile, down in the Undercity.  Your end of the night found you in the midst of your workspace, surrounded by jars and containers alike. Some filled, some empty, and some of which were cooling off on a rack after you'd filled them with a new brew. 

This wasn’t your shopfront, no. But rather, a separate room from what was usually known as the “apothecary” to most.

You’d never thought to name the place, really. So it didn’t really matter what the general populace had taken to calling your little establishment. And considering the dingy sign that named it so and the overall run-down state of the place… Yeah, maybe you’d have to rethink refurbishing the place once you have the funds to spare.

And speaking of funds… You inaudibly sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. That was exactly why you were back here, in the backrooms of your shop, cooking up vials of product that had to be otherwise dealt with only in under-the-table deals.

Your client paid quite a hefty sum for these concoctions, which was why you had agreed to be their supplier whenever they came knocking. Thankfully, those orders didn’t come often, but since each one was different from the last, they were time-consuming to fulfill. Your only saving grace was that your client was the one graciously providing the resources required. And while this time’s request wasn’t complicated by any means, it was proving to be quite a headache. 

Checking the temperature of the fire beneath a bubbling pot, you reached over to a flowering pot by the table, plucking a few leaves from the plant before adding them to the boiling liquid before you. It frothed a little as you stirred, before producing a puff of viscous smoke that you were sure wasn’t supposed to happen. It gave an ominous gurgle before the liquid lurched, threatening to overflow from the confines of its medium. With a startled yelp, you quickly cut the fire and backed a good distance away from it in case it just so happened to be explosive. 

…Not that it hasn’t happened before. You wince, recalling how you had to close down your establishment a couple of jobs ago for a good month or two while the repairs were being made. That had cut you back a few months on rent, something you didn’t want a repeat of, thank you very much.

Once the pot showed no signs of imminent explosion, you cautiously withdrew the ladle and squinted at the notes you’d hastily scribbled off to the side. Picking up the pen lying by the side, you quickly scratched off a few points you made and tacked on another short paragraph beneath it.

“This combination doesn’t work… Wait, oh. Oh dear.” 

It was then that you noticed that your ladle had been reduced to a stick, with the spoon part of it having been completely dissolved. Whatever had been bubbling in there had eaten right through the wooden ladle.

You made a thoughtful hum before recording your new findings onto a new sheet of paper in detail, only to be snapped out of your reverie when a small knock sounded on the door connected to the shop. 

A familiar soot-covered face with mousy hair popped in shortly after, bearing a grin with one too many broken teeth and a cheery chime of “Heya, boss! Knew I'd find ya back here!”

You raised your head from the corner of the room you were working in and waved at the door. “Hey, lil’ mouse! You're not supposed to be here, but I'm almost done. Could you wait back out there for me?”

You got an equally chipper “okaay!” in response before the door closed once more. 

Rolling up your sleeves, you got to work bottling your unfortunate mishap-in-a-caldron. This time, using a metal ladle.

The result might have been a far cry from what you'd originally been aiming to create, but whatever by-product you'd created in the process, you're sure that it'll either come to be of use someday. Or… someone, somewhere, might pay the right price for it in the Lanes. 

That being said, however, you'd have to put it away for further perusal. You had no idea what this concoction was, other than the fact that it was strong enough to eat through wood, but that could wait. After all, there was a customer waiting for you back in the shop!

Sealing the last vial with a pop and stashing them all away, you then exited the room, stepping back into the thresholds of your shop. 

You slide the door curtains back over the door to the room out back before turning to greet the child that had come knocking, here to collect her usual package of medicine.

“You’re here pretty late, mouse. Did something happen?” You asked as you opened a drawer to retrieve the package that you'd previously set aside for her.

Mouse shrugged. “Went scavenging. Took longer than we thought to get back up to ground. Y’know, with what it’s like down there...”

Drawing down to her height, you handed it to her with a smile before seeing her off with a pat on the head. “You’re lucky I'm still here then. Here’s your package.”

You gave her a small wave as she exited the shop before turning back and returning to the room that housed your workspace and a few sparse pots of plants.

Rolling your sleeves up, you got back to work. Your client wanted a strong paralytic agent with an extra kick, and that's what he'll get. You just have to find a way to deliver within the week. Scratching your head, you went back to consult your notes, figuring that this would take a while.

 ❖☆————— ⊹ Deficit Yearnings ⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Chapter 1) Next Part: (Chapter 3)

[somedaylazysomeday]

Good Intentions Part Twenty-Six

Ongoing Silco x fem!reader fic (no reader description, no use of 'Y/N')

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3,700

Warnings: Threats, references to past relationship, mentions of past drugging and assault, breaking and entering, fingering, unprotected sex, intercrural sex, drug mentions.

Previous | Next | Masterlist

---

You had a good view of the Rise from the window of your office. 

Ronid’s apartment complex had been finished slightly behind schedule - to be expected, really. You had managed to be out for a casual walk in a deeply hooded cloak when the opening ceremony was going on, and you had easily spotted Arunn in the group standing behind Ronid. He was slightly to Ronid’s right, joined by Jazper and a few of the other Undercity business owners. Arunn was the one to accept the scissors when Ronid was finished cutting the ceremonial ribbon.

The casual nature of their interaction told you everything you needed to know: Arunn had found a place at the Rise. He was helping Ronid just as he had helped you, and was just as highly depended-upon there. 

You had made accidental eye contact with Jazper as he glanced out into the crowd. Jazper simply offered a sad smile and a shallow nod in your direction before he turned his attention back to Ronid’s speech. 

There were nearly fifty Undercity residents working in and around the Rise. Ronid had employed them as receptionists, groundskeepers, cleaning staff, managers… Cipanni’s electrician friend had sent two of his apprentices to work together on maintaining the apartment building’s power grid and make general repairs. He was always willing to come down and check up on them, but he didn’t have to make many trips. 

Jazper had told you all of this, of course. Arunn had said he didn’t want to have further contact with you, and you were determined to respect his wishes. And despite Jazper’s insistence that he couldn’t continue to speak with you, he found ways to keep you informed. 

Any time you saw the upper floors of the Rise, your mind turned to the state of the Undercity. And since those floors were within easy sight distance, you thought of the Undercity often. 

The Council had never started another Committee. You had been hopeful that they would soften their initial extreme reaction and agree to give the Undercity some sort of representation. But they had never swayed in their opinion and, as the months steadily passed by, you lost hope that it would ever happen. 

But the last time you spoke, Jazper had told you that there were more investors lining up to develop the Undercity. They reached out to him to find out about the business climate and learn more about the types of permits they would need. 

Jazper had meetings set up with a few of these would-be developers over the following weeks. He had promised to emphasize that the current trend of business in the Undercity was intensely focused on corporate social responsibility. If they seemed to have a bigger interest in turning a profit than helping the people, Jazper would urge them to look elsewhere. 

It was wonderful that you could continue to be part of the Undercity’s continued growth, but it hurt that you had to do so from the outside.

Patients still flooded into the Haven for help with their Shimmer addictions. If anything, the number of patients had increased in the past few months. When you asked a few people why they had chosen to come in then, they had told you that the Undercity was opening up. They had a chance to build better lives, and the first step was breaking their dependence on Shimmer. 

HexTech’s donations had kept you afloat, but they weren’t enough to cover everything. Your grant applications weren’t accepted at nearly the rate they had been before your ties to Silco had been made public, but they also weren’t automatically denied anymore. The refusals you got were because of details you had missed or a flood of worthy applications, not because of Silco. And the grants you did win helped fill in the gaps around what HexTech gave you. 

Most importantly, there hadn’t been another break-in. The patients could feel safe at the Haven, and that could only help them recover faster. 

Of course, break-ins didn’t have to be violent to be disconcerting. 

“Hey,” Fletcher called, drawing your attention. He was perched at the top of the stairs while you worked in the kitchen, forcing you to look up at him. “Someone’s waiting for you in your office.” 

With that ominous warning, you took a second glance at Fletcher’s face. The lines of his expression were deep and taut, his posture rigid. He was scared. 

You put down the bowl of ingredients you had been mixing, briefly rinsing your hands before you started for the stairs. “Thanks for letting me know, Fletcher. Can you take over for me while I’m gone? This shouldn’t take long.” 

Fletcher made a strangled sound, but nodded. You continued to your office as quickly as possible without running. If Silco was back, you hoped to handle him without a lot of fuss. You had told him exactly what you thought of his proposal for a resumed deal the last time he came to the Haven uninvited, but Silco was nothing if not persistent…

“I told you-” you started as you pushed the door open, but the eyes that met yours weren’t a mismatched green and orange. Instead, they were a brown that managed to be cold and piercing. “Sevika.” 

She didn’t bother answering aloud, offering only a curt nod in reply to your greeting. You stepped inside and closed the door behind yourself, feeling rather like you were closing yourself in a cage with a dangerous animal. 

But the Undercity was all about appearances. You kept your chin high and your face unworried as you circled the office to sit behind your desk. When you were seated, hands folded on the desk in front of you, you addressed Sevika directly. “What can I do for you?” 

“Accept Silco’s offer.” 

You gaped at that for half a second before you recovered enough to shake your head. “Direct as ever. But no, I can’t do that.” 

Sevika stared at you grimly, a muscle twitching in her jaw. 

You met her stare evenly, trying to look as casual as someone speaking to a friend over a hot drink. “Anything else?” 

“Why?” 

“Because I-” You sighed lightly, pushing it through your nose to keep the sound to a minimum. “My reputation has suffered badly enough for having a known association with Silco. If it ever…” 

You paused, remembering at the last second who you were speaking to. Sevika was nothing if not loyal to Silco, so showing your weak spots was not the best way to go about things. “If anyone realized that I had willingly continued that association with him even after all of the repercussions, it would ruin what little reputation I have left.” 

“So that’s it?” Sevika asked, sounding thoroughly disgusted. “You’re going to throw everything away for your reputation?” 

“No, I threw away my reputation for everything Silco offered,” you corrected. “Now I’m just trying to make things right. That means going about things the right way. Which also means not accepting any more deals from your boss.” 

“He’s making everyone miserable,” Sevika bit out, clearly unhappy with your reasoning. “He’s been in a shit mood since you kicked him out of here - the first time - and you’re not doing any better than you were before you decided to give all the work to someone else.” 

“That’s not what happened,” you snapped. 

“Really?” she asked, giving you a knowing smirk. “Because it sure looks like you saw a way to pass all of this place’s problems along to Piltover while you sat around and told everyone that you’re an expert.” 

You ground your teeth. “Not that you care, but that isn’t fair. Maybe I shouldn’t have believed Piltover when they said that they wanted to work on fixing things. But it’s not like I was going to shut the Haven down. I had plans for who would take over the daily operation, grant applications I was going to write so the doors could stay open, and connections to make sure the Undercity’s opportunities kept growing. I was never going to abandon this place-” 

“No, but you were going to abandon Silco.” 

That made you blink in stunned silence for far too long. “Abandon? Silco? That’s putting too much on our relationship. That makes it sound like he cares-” 

“He does,” Sevika interrupted again. “Haven’t you been listening? Nothing affects him this way, especially when it’s something that doesn’t impact his business or his family. But he’s pissed, and he’s been pissed since you cut him off.” 

“Charming,” you managed, weakly rolling your eyes. “But I can’t live my life based on what Silco wants.” 

“And what about what you want?” she asked. “I saw the way you were when Silco was drugged.” 

“You mean when I agreed to protect him at great risk to myself and my business?” you asked, doing your best to push away the sick fear that washed over you at the mention of it. “I’m sure I looked upset, but that doesn’t mean I care about Silco.” 

Sevika snorted. “Keep telling yourself that.” 

You sighed. “I don’t think this conversation is going to go anywhere. Is there something else you want from me? Because I’m not changing my mind about taking Silco up on his offer to resume our deal.” 

She watched you for a long moment, dark eyes studying your every feature. Eventually, though, she sighed and stood up. “I know you aren’t stupid enough to think he’s going to let this go without a fight. Even if you won’t admit it, everyone knows that you and Silco care about each other. You don’t get that scared without something behind it.” 

“Whatever we might have had is behind us,” you insisted, following her to the doorway of your office. “Thank you for coming, though. I know Silco appreciates having someone to look out for him.” 

“For your sake, I hope you’re right about things being in the past,” Sevika said, and it sounded like a warning. “Otherwise, denying him isn’t going to make him happy.” 

There didn’t seem to be a good response to that, so you bit your tongue and silently closed the door behind her.

The conversation with Sevika had you on-edge for the next few days. Every knock on the door made your heart stutter, you flinched every time someone called your name, and footsteps on the street behind you made your own steps quicken. 

You didn’t think Silco would attack you, but Sevika was right: Silco didn’t let go of the things he considered ‘his’. Not easily and never without a fight. He was more likely to damage something he couldn’t have than let someone else enjoy it. 

The thought made you pause, chest feeling tight. If you even gave the appearance of forming another connection with someone - sexual or romantic - you had no doubt that Silco would reappear with plenty to say about it. 

You didn’t hate the idea. And you hated that you didn’t hate it. 

Did you have feelings for Silco? You didn’t think so… but what if you were so deep into denial that you couldn’t tell any longer? You despised doubting yourself like this, but Sevika had made some excellent points. You couldn’t remember being as scared as you had been when she had shown up at your doorstep with a drugged and bloodied Silco in tow. 

Not when you realized Silco actually had released information about your business ties. Not when Piltover canceled the task force. Not even when Arunn had left and all of your grants had dried up. 

You pulled up short in your pacing, swearing as loudly as you could without drawing unwelcome attention. Laid out like that, there was only one conclusion you could draw:

You had feelings for Silco. 

Maybe not love. Not anything so pure or straightforward, but there was something there. There had to be. Otherwise, you would have rejoiced at the idea that Silco may die. You would take advantage of this situation as a clean break. You would never look back, and you certainly wouldn’t be aching to resume your deal with him. You wouldn’t long for something more…

With that disconcerting realization, you shut off the lights in your office and retreated to your room. There was nothing to do from here but go to bed and hope that things would resume some semblance of normalcy tomorrow. 

Falling asleep seemed to take an eternity, but when you finally managed to slip into blissful unconsciousness, you found that your brain still wouldn’t stop. You turned onto your side for what was easily the tenth time, sighing lightly as you tried to fall back into whatever semblance of sleep you had managed. 

The bed dipped behind you, an arm slipping around your waist at almost the same instant. You squeaked in alarm, but your recognized the voice that shushed you. Besides, with the dim orange light bathing the covers ahead of you, there was little doubt who it was. 

“Did you miss me so desperately, pet?” 

The smooth purr of Silco’s almost made you shiver, but you managed to fight it off. “Never. Why are you here?” 

Silco gave an amused chuckle. “Sharp words, yet I notice you haven’t moved away from me. Perhaps you do not hate me as fiercely as you claim to.”

“I never hated you,” you disagreed, almost smiling when Silco made a wordless sound of skepticism. “Though I got pretty close when you ruined my job.” 

“Let us talk of more pleasant things,” Silco demurred. “Sevika tells me that she came to visit you today. She had an… interesting theory about your reaction when I was drugged. I remember little of that day, so you will have to tell me if there is any truth to it.” 

“I would prefer not to discuss that day.” You were glad you hadn’t turned to face him directly. Silco had always been disconcertingly good at reading your expression, and you didn’t want to know what he would find written across your face.

Unaware of your internal worries, Silco paused. “Because you find me a loathsome, power-hungry despot who craves to rule Zaun with an iron grasp? Or is there another reason?” 

“That isn’t fair,” you objected. “I may have been uncomplimentary, but I never said any of that.” 

“Can you tell me that you did not think it?” Silco pressed, smirking when you stayed silent. “In that case, perhaps we should speak of more pleasant things. Or nothing at all.” 

Your sleep-addled mind believed that he meant to leave, and your heart rebelled at the idea. You had an instant to berate yourself - just because you loved him didn’t mean you could lose all sense of rationality - but that train of thought was derailed when Silco’s lips descended on the curve of your neck. 

The wordless moan escaped before you could even try to hold it back. Silco hummed approvingly. “That’s it, pet. I missed you, too. Missed this.” 

Even as he murmured low praises in your ear, Silco’s hand wandered downward until he could cup your breast in his hand. His thumb found your nipple easily even through the bedsheets and the cotton of the shirt you were wearing. Apparently, it wasn’t enough for him, since his hand dipped inside both barriers in an instant. 

Silco’s touch was just as addictive as it always had been, sweet and necessary and so damn good that you found yourself growing more obsessed with it by the moment. 

“I cannot tell, pet,” Silco said lazily, pausing to nip at the soft curve of your jaw. “Do you want this? Want me? Perhaps I should stop…”

“No, Silco!” Your hand rose to clamp over the back of his, holding him in place. “Keep going. I need you.” 

His laugh was low and a little mean. “Precisely what I hoped you would say.”

The hand still disappeared from under yours, leaving your breast feeling cold and neglected. When Silco’s fingers wormed their way under the thin barrier of your pajama pants and the panties you had already soaked, you were able to forgive the loss. 

He parted your folds with easy familiarity, fingertips dipping just inside of your entrance before dragging your wetness up to draw circles against your clit. You groaned, hips bucking toward the delicate touch. It had been so long since you had been touched by any hands but your own…

“Silco,” you moaned, clinging to the arm he had hooked over you. 

Silco growled something unintelligible in response, scooting closer to your back. He didn’t stop until he was close enough for you to feel how affected he had been by your reactions. You pressed your ass back against him, smiling when he ground himself against the curve of your rear. 

“You’re ready for me, pet,” Silco murmured in your ear, an edge of desperation gilding his tone. “Aren’t you?” 

“Yes,” you breathed, gasping when he plunged two fingers deep into your heat. You writhed as he spread and scissored them inside of you, testing to see whether you had been telling the truth. 

Your body accepted him easily, greeting him with a rush of slickness that eased his movements and made them feel utterly heavenly to you. He gave a dark chuckle, nipping at your earlobe as you gasped and bucked back against him. 

“My lovely little philanthropist,” he purred. “I’m pleased to know that you’ve grown no less perfect in the time we spent apart.” 

“You still like to talk,” you replied, earning another laugh. 

Your groan nearly drowned him out as we pulled his fingers free of you. The only thing that kept you from whining outright was that his hands dipped behind you. The clinking of a belt being undone was clear, followed by the sound of someone hastily undressing. 

Silco grabbed your thigh, tugging your leg backward and over his hip. You shuddered as the movement exposed your scorching core to the coolness of the room, then again as you felt the head of Silco’s cock notch into you. 

You ground your hips down and into him just as he surged forward and up into you. The result was a thrust that took him nearly hilt-deep inside of you with a suddenness that knocked both of you off-balance. Silco shouted in surprise while you gave a higher cry, loud enough that you worried it would be heard outside of the room. 

And then, you stopped caring about that, because Silco gripped your hips and took up a steady rhythm. 

Your position didn’t give you much room to counterthrust in response to Silco’s movements, and something told you that he had planned it that way. But you did your best, grinding back and inching forward in reaction to whatever he was doing, and squeezing him with the muscles of your core wherever he bottomed out inside of you. 

His heavy breaths panted from behind you as you stared blindly at the light filtering past the closed curtains of your window. Every scrap of your attention was focused on what was happening inside of you, as the coil of your release wound tighter and tighter. There was only so long you could last before you would explode into orgasm, and you were determined to bring Silco with you. 

You reached back over your own thigh to sink your nails into Silco’s asscheek, craning your head back to silence his hissed complaints with a kiss. His pounding rhythm stuttered momentarily and you smiled against his lips. He nipped at you in a teasing retribution, fingertips searching out your clit at the same time. 

A few tiny circles was all it took to send you sailing over the edge, far past any hope of regaining your wits. You were grateful for Silco’s lips on yours. They helped dampen the sound of the wail your orgasm pulled from you. 

You collapsed, breathless and oversensitive as Silco continued to thrust into you. When he finally reached his own climax, he withdrew from you, closed your legs, and finished by pounding between your thighs. The warm spill of his cum over the front of your legs made you dread the prospect of getting up to change the sheets, but it was all worth it. You truly had missed Silco, and there was a peace that came from having him share your bed. 

Eventually, you and Silco regained your breath. He was tracing gentle circles on your bare shoulder and you were massaging the thigh he had wrapped over your legs. “I missed you, pet.” 

The low admission made you smile. “I missed you, too. More than I thought I would.” 

“I always knew I’d miss you.” 

The admission made you frown. Silco, being sincere? You turned over to face him directly, but a sharp knock at the door made you sit up before you could complete the motion. 

“Silco-” 

The bed was empty. Not just empty, but still partially made. When you touched it, the sheets were cool against your hand. You glanced down to check, and found that you were still fully dressed, even if your underwear was a little damp. 

The pounding against your door came again, this time accompanied by Yi’s voice. “Are you awake? I’m coming in.” 

If you hadn’t been fully awake before, the tension in Yi’s voice chased the last bit of sleep from your brain. When she opened the door and stepped inside, her face was tight with the same tension.

Your heart sank. “What’s going on?” 

“You need to see this.” 

Yi crossed to your window, pushing the curtains aside as you joined her. The street was awash with activity. People were everywhere - shouting and fighting and screaming just to scream. There was a fire growing at one end of the street that people were dancing around. The workers at the brothel it was in front of were trying to put it out by dumping water from an upper floor, but the people on the ground threw rocks and trash every time the workers appeared at a window. 

“What happened?” you asked eventually, watching the carnage with horror. 

Yi’s lips were pressed into a firm line. “Silco leaked Shimmer back into the Lanes."

---

Author's Note -

I kept forgetting to mention this in previous chapters, but this is officially a post-Arcane season one AU. With Arcane season two getting ready to drop, I can't guarantee that any of the future chapters will be canon-compliant. But that's okay, we can just make our own canon!

Anyway, Silco's such an ass, isn't he?. Even (especially) when he's not really there.

Thanks for reading! I'll see you again soon with another chapter!