#ask-the-scientist-duo | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bitchface24-7 · 6 months ago

Note

Oops my hand slipped and I’m back again (for the 3rd day in a row (I think I have a problem))

So following the trend of me seeing too many fanfics of smthn I don’t vibe with, I’ve noticed that a lot of Jayce and/or Viktor x reader fics have the reader as a scientist (makes sense writing-wise, provides a lot of opportunity for characters to interact and bond)

Problem is, I am dogshit at science. I was good at most subjects in high school, but science? Nearly failed. I was good at math and word problems too which made it even more confusing to me but it is what it is ig. So I was hoping for another JayVik x reader where this time, the reader is an artist

Now I primarily draw OCs and people (usually digital or w/ marker) so I’d like smthn leaning towards that but frankly you can do whatever

I just think it’s be funny if, while Jayce n Viktor do their cool nerd shit, the reader is fully unhelpful and doodling in their sketchbook. Quality time except I’m drawing sexualized men (gender equality) and my hot boyfriends are solving global trade or whatever

(Mayhaps also drawing them for studies and anatomy practice and showing them because I like forcing ppl to look at my art >:)) )

Again, take as long as you need to write this, hope you’re doing good :))

MY MUSES - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: after escaping Noxus with your best friend Mel, you've cherished the peace of Piltover compared to the wartime of Noxus. You were able to flourish in the city of progress with your artistry. It was the way you and Mel found solace in your old home. Now, you've been commissioned by the council to paint a portrait of the Hextech duo.

warnings: talks of wartime, insecurities, awkward talk, becoming friends with J + V, anatomy practice, complimenting your two boys, fluff, Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/m/f or m/m/m

p.s. I understand your frustration, even I've fallen into “make reader a scientist to make life a little easier.” I hope y'all enjoy artist reader!

You're painting in your studio at the Academy when the door is opened, and you smell the delicious fragrance of vanilla, cardamom, and sandalwood, it’s Mel.

You put your paintbrush down and turn to look at your best friend, a smile beaming on your face. You get up and go for a hug before stopping yourself, your clothes are stained with paint and you don’t want to ruin Mel’s pretty white dress.

She fondly rolls her eyes and pulls you into a hug anyway. Mel’s not a very touchy person. It was seen as a weakness is Noxus. She’s only really touchy with you, you’ve been her friend for as long as you can remember. She wholeheartedly trusts you.

And you know how rare that is.

“Hello dove. How’re you today?”

You scrunch your nose at the nickname, it was a nickname given to you when you were much younger. “It’s because you don’t see the glory of war. You’re gentle. Something I desperately need in my life.” Mel had explained, her Medarda Mask no where in sight.

“I’m good. I’m almost done the landscape you commissioned for the council room.”

Mel’s smile widens the tiniest bit, but her gaze is downcast. This isn’t a social call. She’s been tasked to ask you something.

“Mel, I understand. Just, tell me what you need from me.”

A sigh escapes the gorgeous woman, “The council has requested a portrait to be made of the two Hextech innovators, Viktor and Jayce Talis.”

You raise your brows in confusion, “Okay… why is that a bad thing?”

Mel leans on a clean section of your work station, a hand coming up to rub her forehead, “They’re constantly working. They don’t see the prospect of taking a break. If you were to paint them, you’d have to paint them in the lab; as they do dangerous experiments. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

You place your hand over top Mel’s hand that’s braced against the desk, “I’ll be okay. I can’t imagine they’d let anyone get hurt.”

Mel nods sagely, the hand that was rubbing her forehead is now placed over your hand. She’s now cupping your one hand and rubbing her thumb over your knuckles.

“I’ll tell them what the council has demanded. When will you be free to paint them?”

You look over to the almost finished landscape painting sitting on your easel, “Give me a week.”

Mel nods, gives you one last hug, and leaves your studio to break the news to Viktor and Jayce.

You just hope they’re nice to you.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The week passed by in a flash, and here you are. Standing in front of two very large doors that make you feel like your heart is going to beat out of your chest.

You don’t understand why you’re so nervous. You’ve painted portraits of the top-class in Piltover. The cream of the crop. The top one percent, and you were fine. You were mentally rolling your eyes every few minutes, but you were fine.

You’re now asked to paint two scientists and you feel like you’re going to have a stroke.

At least Mel gave you some advice in regards to both men, “Jayce is quite kind, easy-going, and easy to talk to. You’ll make quick friends with him as you are. His partner Viktor on the other hand… is a different story. He’s cordial, but stubborn. He’s quite witty with a sass that almost matches mine. He’d prefer it if you skipped the flowery talk and just got straight to the point. He’s not a fan of the mind numbing politics of Piltover. Say what you mean or don’t say anything at all.”

With that mantra repeating in your head, you knock on the doors to their lab.

“Come in!” A voice exclaims, “We cannot leave our stations, the gems may become volatile if we do.” Another voice adds, this time with an unfamiliar accent.

You lightly push open the doors and are stunned by the state of the lab. Papers everywhere, equations on a blackboard you don’t even want to attempt to understand, ink stains, scraps of metal.

You suppose this is their version of an art studio.

“Oh!” The first voice you heard exclaims, “You must be Mel’s friend, the one who’s been commissioned to paint us. I’m Jayce. The one brooding over there with goggles on his face is Viktor.”

A scoff, “I am not brooding. I simply do not see the purpose of a portrait being made of us. It takes time away from our research!”

You cut in, reminding yourself of Mel’s advice, “The council has ordered it. Besides, I need to study you two for a little bit. Understand your anatomy and proportions. Then when I have a clear understanding, we’ll take one day out of your schedule to get the painting done.”

Viktor raises his goggles, putting them into is hair and the most beautiful pair of eyes you’ve ever seen narrows onto you, “You’ll only need one day to paint us?”

“The weather is constantly changing. That means so is my light source, my shadows, my colours.” You explain easily, “If we spend the whole day together, I’ll be able to easily get the portrait done and you two can go back to work. Sound good?”

Viktor purses his lips before nodding, Jayce just looks between the two of you with a small smile. He thought that would’ve taken a lot longer.

Guess you’re pretty special.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

One Week Later.

Their work is fascinating. You don’t understand quite a bit of it, but their enthusiasm and passion make up for your lack of knowledge.

Here they are trying to solve most of the worlds problems and you’re sketching them in your sketchbook with hearts in your eyes.

You focus on their bodies, how they bend, contort, their planes and shadows. How light glows onto them.

You focus on their unique features. Jayce’s sharp canines, Viktor’s cheekbones and moles. Jayce’s broad chest and Viktor’s cane and brace.

Those two points are especially important. They’re so detailed. And they’re a part of Viktor, you’re not going to erase something so vital to him as a human being to make the portrait “nicer to look at” according to the upper echelon of Piltover.

You’re so lost in your thoughts you don’t feel a presence come up behind you, “Whatcha doing?”

You jolt, putting a hand to your heart as your pencil drops to the ground, “By Janna Jayce! You scared me!”

A boisterous laugh permeates the lab, “You we’re so focused, I couldn’t help but wonder what you were doing.”

“We’ll… I was drawing my two very beautiful muses.”

There’s a small silence in the lab.

“Your—“ Viktor starts, then clears his throat as Jayce stands there, stunned, “Your beautiful muses?”

You nod, not realizing their disbelief, “Of course. The two of you have such beautiful features. Jayce is quite tall, with broad shoulders, a tiny waist, and strong legs. A nice hair cut, strong brows, big eyes, and pink lips. You, Viktor on the other hand—“

You’re cut off by said man, “Are not as conventional—“

You cut him off this time, “Are also tall, lean, lithe, with long beautiful legs. You have a face carved out of marble, messy hair, eyes that look like liquid gold, beauty marks, and a nice pale complexion that compliments Jayce’s tan. You’re both quite handsome, just is different ways.”

The two men are stunned into silence, and it takes a few minutes before you realize what you said. You feel your face heat up as you try to hide behind your sketch book. Viktor lightly smiles at that as Jayce laughs and forces your sketch book back down onto your lap.

“You know, I’ve never heard such an honest compliment before.”

“Neither have I.”

You feel like killing yourself. Maybe jumping out of one of the lab windows will do the trick.

“So,” Viktor’s interrupts your dark humorous thoughts, “Do you feel prepared to paint the portrait?”

You look the two men dead in the eye, even as embarrassment consumes you.

“Yes.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

A day is set and you bring all your art supplies that you need into the lab. You even set up a place for the portrait to be.

The setting will be in front of their main work station, the hexcore and hexgems glittering in the background. You brought a comfortable armchair for Viktor to sit on, you know these paintings can take some time and you don’t want to over-exert his leg. You assume Jayce can stand for a few hours, placed right next to Viktor.

As you explain your thought process to them, the more excited they seem. And to think, they didn’t want to do this originally.

“Ok, get comfortable. Viktor you can put your cane to rest against one of the arms of the chair. Jayce, can you place your hand on the top of the headrest? Perfect. You two comfortable?”

You get nods and yes’ as your answer.

With that, you start to paints them.

You ensure to be as diligent as possible. You start with the boys, adding bits and pieces to the background as you go. You make sure to her the green in Jayce’s eyes, the beauty marks on Viktor’s face. The house Talis emblem on Jayce’s jacket; the intricacies of Viktor’s cane and leg brace. The purple and blue glows of the Hextech give the painting an almost magical feeling.

You have to say, this may be your best portrait yet.

A couple hours pass and you deem the painting complete. The two boys sigh, Jayce cracks his back as Viktor cracks his neck. Most of the painting was done is silence, a few tiny conversations sprinkled throughout the process.

You didn’t want them to move.

The two come to where you’re sitting and gaze at the portrait in awe. It’s… them. It looks so life like, as good as a picture. But it’s softer, it looks beautiful.

And they look phenomenal.

“Are you sure that’s us?” Viktor jokes, pointing at the painting, “Those men are incredibly handsome.”

You cock an eyebrow at him, “Now you know what to say when you look in a mirror. That’s how you look, and it’s how you’ll be remembered.”

Jayce smiles and puts a hand on both your and Viktor’s shoulders. Viktor looks touched at the sentiment.

“You should move your art stuff to be here. Permanently.” Jayce states easily.

You almost choke on your own spit, “Pardon? Why would I do that?”

“Because we'd miss you,” Viktor replies a cocky look on his face.

You huff out a laugh, “Ill be of no help to you. I'm not a science brain. I'd just be in the lab drawing you two constantly.”

“We’d pose for you.” Jayce jokes

“Even if I wanted to practice nude anatomy?”

Viktor hums, “Not in the lab obviously, but yes even then.”

You smile at them, “It’s a deal then.”

And to think you were scared they wouldn't be nice to you. You just obtained two pretty muses (hopefully for the rest of your life.)

TADA!!! This was such a cute request. I hope y'all enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it. Pebble, you keep those requests coming (and everyone else who requests too 🫵😏)

I have like four requests now in my inbox and I squealed when I saw it. I've never had so many requests before. Usually my inbox has like… spam and fishing schemes. So this is amazing to me!!

#arcane #viktor arcane #jayce arcane #jayce talis #arcane imagine #arcane x reader #viktor imagine #viktor x reader #jayce imagine #jayce x reader #jayvik x reader #fem!reader #male!reader #gender neutral reader #banners by cafekitsune

262 notes · View notes

rhubarbplants · 1 month ago

Text

Pangkey Fae au

Lukey is human, normal as can be, the only problem is that he's cursed. He can remember being cursed and most of what came before that but since then he can't hold on to memories for longer than a handful of days.

One day he wanders too far into the woods, into the domain of the Fall Prince and plucks a berry from a bush that he shouldn't and the Prince whisks him away.

Pangi, Prince of Fall and General of the Unseelie is bored. That is the only reason he lures that poor mortal so deep into his domain. Lukey is a pretty little plaything. He keeps him for only three days.

On the first day he just lets him explore Pangi's domain, observes the strange way the human alters the grove to make shelter and hunts a squirrel like he isn't prey himself. One the second day he makes him dance for hours and hours until Lukey stumbles from exhaustion. On the last day Pangi hunts but once he catches him, Pangi lets the human go. He assumes that is the last he'll hear of the man but it isn't.

When Lukey stumbles into the woods again Pangi is fascinated. He has never seen a human who escape the fae realm return to the forest. The human does not look afraid. Pangi decides to mess with him a little. He offers Lukey some faerie fruit and Lukey takes it. It has the usual effect, it gets him a little drunk on the magic of it and it ties him more closely to the fae realm but after a few days Lukey realizes something. He remembers most of the past week.

Pangi of course is falling fast so when his crush comes to him asking for fairy fruit how could he deny him? Lukey keeps returning to Pangi's domain and they grow very close to the point where Pangi almost sees them as equals. He brings him to parties and is happy to sit alone in his company for hours on end.

Newt has been searching for Lukey for years. He has been wandering the fae realm since Lukey got cursed trying to find him. He has bargained away everything he has for a chance to find his old friend and now he is a shell oh himself. He no longer has his voice or his name or even his body.

One day he trades his dreams for the knowledge that Lukey is with the Prince of Fall. The Fall Prince of Fae, one of the strongest warriors in the land. Rumors of the kinds of parties his court hosts are wild and graphic, with tales of entrails on the table and blood in wine glasses. The rumors are somewhat true of course. Newt fears for his friend.

One day he stumbles upon the grove where Pangi and Lukey spend most of their time. Newt sees the two of them. They dance to the nearly imperceptible tune of the wind thru bones and the growing of wild legumes and the tired chirps of birds ready to sleep for the winter. Its a melody Pangi taught Lukey to hear.

More below

Scientist duo is also super important for this au. Aimsey is a witch, she was seeing Ros who is Queen of Summer but they had to keep the relationship secret. Pangi is incredibly fond of witches because it's fun for him to meet someone who approaches magic from a completely different perspective than him. Pulling from emotion whereas Pangi manipulates pure forces of nature.

Pangi and Aimsey grow very close while the Seelie and Unseelie are at war over summer encroaching on fall. The war is set to sweep through the part of the forest where Aimsey lives and Pangi saves them. Ros wanted to but couldn't put anyone above her kingdom.

Aimsey knows Pangi's reputation but learns very quickly that despite his violent nature he's a big softie and very affectionate. Also occasionally a little childish, prone to flights of fancy. He showers Aimsey in protection charms and provides them with all the magical ingredients they could ever need, all freely given.

Hes made it clear that Aimsey isn't a prisoner but also anytime they try to leave hes a clingy little bitch abt it and does everything he can to prevent them from leaving without actually forcing them to stay.

Pangi grows close to Scott as well who is also a witch of the Teal Titans coven. And Tubbo is a faerie who learned witchcraft.

Other characters include Hannah Dame of Winter, Zam Princess of Spring, and Pili who is also a witch with a focus in alchemy.

---

also thank you @mossiishroom for helping me with this au and to everyone else if you're interested PLEASE ask me questions/yap at me about this au bc I love it so much.

#the realm #pangkey #lukey #pangi #aimsey #mcyt #scientist duo #newt #I have soooo many ideas for this

103 notes · View notes

namism · 6 months ago

Text

take me back | hange zoë

➳ categories: modern au, ex hange, female reader, angst

➳ word count: 11.7k

➳ summary: Hange Zoë realized that they didn't account for a lot of things before ending your relationship.

➳ notes: for everyone's reference, nifa, abel, and keiji are members of the fourth squad (hange's squad) and this fic was lowkey inspired by the lyrics of "kiss me better" by rihanna (don't ask lmfao it's so random). also, if you'd like, please read this on ao3 instead as i worked my butt off coding (yes, i coded instead of using screenshots) your DM's with hange. the version on tumblr is just a bunch of words, so the ao3 version is worth the read! you can find the link below :)

➳ cross-posted on ao3

ONE.

Five seconds before Hange ended your relationship, they noticed their hand clench tightly into a fist.

Three seconds later, they relaxed their hand before sucking in a deep breath and saying the three words you had always dreaded.

"Let's break up."

After three minutes of constant denial, you finally sucked up to your lover's—ex-lover's—decision and promptly stormed out of your apartment. It wasn't until the next morning did you come back to the shared space to pack your things and leave, not even daring to look at Hange's direction as you stowed away items into numerous moving boxes.

Hange remembers telling themselves to behave before you visited the apartment one last time. Knowing themselves, they would have said something stupid with the intention of taking back their words to get you back. Just before you strutted into the living room, Hange talked themselves through their crazy ideas in the mirror, eventually deciding to withdraw to the confines of their study in fear of interfering with your purposeful packing and making matters worse.

Hange got the signal from your tabby cat that you were out the door when it started making noise at the entryway. Its nonstop meowing was the go-signal for Hange to emerge from their study to find the apartment completely dulled down as it lacked the color that once filled the room.

It wasn't until near midnight that they decided to get something to eat after more than 24 hours of not having had a proper meal. With the intention of snacking a bit before hopping back on call with Levi and Erwin (their current emotional support duo who were surprisingly amazing at providing comfort), Hange walked over to the fridge to grab something to eat. When they opened the refrigerator, however, a green sticky note posted on the door caught their attention.

Adjusting their crooked glasses, Hange read the writing aloud.

"Cat food in drawer. Ask Nanaba for feeding schedule. Molecular kits to be sent this week. Nori hidden in pantry. Check all sockets. Check stove. Prepped food in fridge..."

It was at that moment Hange knew how badly they messed up. Written telegraphically, you had fit as many words as you could in the little sticky note to list all the essentials that only you would know how to do around the flat and the ones that Hange easily forgot to do. As another wave of sadness washed over them, Hange bitterly ransacked the fridge for an apple and a bottle of beer with decent alcohol content, then retreated to their study where Levi and Erwin chastised them over the screen for doing dumb and dumber things.

That essentially sums Hange's first 72 hours after breaking your heart into a million pieces. As a research scientist who's been confined at the lab for the past 15 years, those were by far the most uneventful 72 hours of their life. Hange found themselves weeping, drinking beer, ranting to Erwin and a less interested Levi, and sleeping for a maximum of two hours before doing it all over again in a never-ending cycle. It momentarily stopped when they had to work first thing the following Monday, but they relapsed quickly once they arrived home.

Hange couldn't remember the last time they drank that much beer. Their diet got worse as time passed, and thankfully Levi seemed to notice as he had come to their rescue the following evening by giving—drugging?—Hange with a sufficient dosage of melatonin in the black tea he offered. Much to Levi's surprise, Hange was down in 20 minutes without noticing a damn thing. They woke up the next morning, feeling lighter and well-rested.

Unbeknownst to them, Levi continued the routine with an appropriate concentration of melatonin until Hange was stable enough to be told the truth. They weren't bothered by the idea and were frankly more grateful than surprised. Over time, Erwin would swing by to share a cup (minus the dosage) only to leave the apartment with Levi after tucking Hange neatly in bed. Hange would wake up, feel energetically amazing despite the inevitable emptiness in their heart, and go to work.

TWO.

If you told Hange Zoë four years ago that there would come a time in which they would do something as dumb as breaking up with the only woman they were ever attracted to, you would have been called insane.

To be clear, Hange was never big on physical attraction. They were attracted to the weirdest, nerdiest, most mystifying things in the world, but attraction to humans? Certainly not. Hange Zoë, PhD (aged 27 and a certified organic chemist who had made at least a hundred drug-dealing jokes in the past eight years of studying), couldn't concern themselves with romance when it never crossed their mind to begin with. The only types of attraction they ever concerned themselves with were intermolecular forces (which they very much enjoyed learning in sixth grade chemistry) until they met you.

You were the perfect woman. Of that, they were certain. You began as friends in Hange's final year in university for their Bachelor's degree, but your friendship continued until Hange was halfway through their Master's. At that point, Hange felt as though your relationship was pretty solid given how often you spoke and saw each other outside campus. Before they knew it, they found themselves falling for you, their thoughts being muddled by images of your sweet face during the most random times of the day. Hange was wrapped around your finger and they couldn't get themselves to stop.

A month after that realization, Hange decided to ask you out in their own fashion—casually, but enthusiastic. You began dating some time after that and your relationship had been going strong ever since.

Now, after calling off the relationship with four years of dating and no rocky bumps on the road, Hange does, indeed, feel like an idiot. An imbecile. A dumbass, even. Blockhead. Nitwit. Stupid twit. A cretin. Hange could open the Cambridge Thesaurus and list out the synonyms for "idiot" because that's exactly what they are and there is no way of redeeming them from it.

"I just wished you would make the effort to spend time with me!" you exclaimed, eyebrows knitting in sorrow rather than anger, like Hange expected. "You can't even help me clean because you're so busy at your job, like— like I don't even exist sometimes to you."

Hange understands that it's their fault, but they cringe every time they recall the argument that led to the ultimatum. It started on the wrong foot. Looking back at it now, they suppose it was a chain of misunderstandings, one piling onto the other, until the tension finally snapped and dragged both of you into a full-blown argument.

"When the hell did I ever make you feel that way?!" they barked back, eyes wide and irises firm. They looked at you, waiting for an answer. "See?! You can't even answer me! Ridiculous!"

"I'm just— I'm just disappointed, okay?! Fuck, I don't know..." Head falling to your palms, you wiped your face in a stressed motion. "You never, and I mean this, you never—not once in our relationship—ever misunderstood me, so what's gotten into you? Aren't you're so clever, huh?! High IQ, high EQ?"

"Oh, please, in what world would I forget that my girlfriend exists?!" they yelled. You flinched at their tone. "I don't ghost you, I don't ignore you— I come home late, but damn, you don't know the guilt that eats me up every night because the only times I see you are when I go to bed and leave for work—"

"And who's at fault for your guilt but you?!" you retorted. "Hange, you"—you shoved a finger to their chest—"you're the one who can't take care of yourself because you're so invested in everything but your life at home! We haven't gone out in three months, like— like don't you think that's strange? Everyone is getting married, having kids, fuck, even my juniors are on their third night out of the week, yet you can't even take care of yourself unless I do it for you!"

The truth is, being obsessed with your job and anything that has to do with it is also detrimental to everyone who loves you. It never crossed Hange's mind because they haven't had this much on their plate since you started dating. There was always some time allotted for you at the end of the day, but things started to change lately.

On top of their regular job at the lab, Hange has four other things to do: tutor high schoolers for their admissions tests, teach as a part-time lab instructor at a private university, be a loving partner to their girlfriend, and be an equally loving parent to their adopted cat. Life hadn't always been like this, but they found themselves taking up more responsibilities over time until it was physically impossible to rest on most days. They couldn't even enjoy their weekends, for goodness' sake (because the high schoolers would always come knocking in their emails with more questions)—but if they were to take a break, they would return a day later to even more work.

Hange is simply not the type of person to live a peaceful life. Their peace is chaos; it doesn't help their mood when they aren't working on anything that stresses them out. Perhaps that's just the person they are. It should be okay to be this way, to always be in constant motion as long as the heart is followed and their happiness is fulfilled, but it isn't because they're risking so much of your relationship the more they work, work, and work.

You've always been supportive, but even your unconditional support can't realistically understand their position. Or that's what Hange thinks. They assume as such because your lifestyle is much freer than theirs. You have more time to yourself despite your regular 9-to-5 job. You don't have responsibilities outside of it and your personal life at home. Because of it, you decided to handle the work at the flat; Hange never had time for it anyway, much to their dismay. They had always wanted to help, but their schedule just never allowed it.

After a while, the chores automatically became your responsibility and never theirs. You had no problem with this. Hell, you even enjoyed it—you bonded with Hange's friend Levi over being clean freaks together as you always hated seeing mess. Although the duty of cleaning and keeping everything in check (including Hange and their health) soon became an irksome chore rather than something you enjoyed for the fun of it. The less Hange spent time with you, the more it annoyed you. You felt used, like some sort of maid. It was not a problem when you volunteered in a compassionate understanding of Hange's circumstances, but the least they could do was to make up for it by arriving home early or spending even a moment of intimacy.

But no, they had been so busy about other things that they couldn't provide the time. You hadn't gone out in almost three months to grab something to eat or go somewhere fun like you used to. You would take each other out to places you've never been to before regardless of how low-budget it was. You would have been happy with a simple late night trip to a fast food chain if it meant having your partner to yourself after months of no quality time, but such a trip just never came to be.

Witnessing Hange have a destructive breakdown whenever they came home exhausted was an even bigger problem. They never cried, but they were always so close to it. You would hear their frustration at one o'clock in the morning or through your heavy eyelids after being awoken by their wailing. When it got mentally tough, you would offer to stay up with them for comfort, but you were always sent back to bed or, worse, shut out from their study, where they isolated themselves.

They were awfully good at taking care of anything and anyone but themselves, so you felt the need to do it for them. And overall, the cause of your separation was a problem built on top of another. It was why you were so agitated when Hange could barely spend time with you, but your intentions came out wrong. You had explained all of this to them as you argued, yet they misunderstood your concerns as an insult to their work and commitment to your relationship.

Hange rolled their eyes as you cried. They were tired and had no time for this. They were running late for class and figured it would be cancelled at the last second because of your argument.

"Okay, let's get this over with—"

"You're mean. You're so mean, Hange." You slapped their hand away when they tried to touch you. Hange's face turned sour at your reaction. You were still crying.

"Please, can we just stop this?" they asked, voice sounding impatient. You glared at them with all your anger, but your gaze softened when Hange returned a look, weariness written across their face.

"I would never, ever, do this to you if I lived your life," you said softly. Hange remained silent. "I can do it all for you, so why can't you do it for me?"

You were right. Even with your freer schedule, you kept yourself busy with maintaining things at home that it technically felt like a second job. It didn't help your feelings when Hange was oblivious to the work and effort you did. When they cried to Erwin and Levi about this, the pair had opened their eyes to your side of the conflict and made Hange understand. Truly, they didn't account for a lot of things before ending your relationship: from the responsibility of feeding your cat and cleaning the house to understanding your partner's feelings.

Levi called Hange a moron for making you upset and a four-eyed loser for prioritizing "that nerd shit" over you. He had known Hange since high school and was aware of their insatiable obsession with science, even going as far as to believing that they would earn a Nobel Prize in Chemistry one day. Hence, when you started going out, Levi knew that they had fallen for you deeply, and anything that would break your bond could only be explained by supernatural phenomena or Hange's bewildering stupidity.

That said, Levi did the best he could to make Hange understand your viewpoint while Erwin patched their empty heart with anything but beer, apples, and Levi's special melatonin-infused black tea. Hange felt better having understood your feelings, so the next logical step was to talk it out with you for proper closure.

Except they couldn't.

You had already blocked Hange's number just days after the breakup, and your friends—unsurprisingly—weren't about to offer them any help.

THREE.

"Thanks for all of this, Nanaba."

It turns out that even with Hange's attempts at achieving the perfect work-life balance, they still can't master the duty of being a proper owner for the cat. Hange called Nanaba the day they saw your sticky note on the fridge, and since then, they have been keeping in touch with her for the cat's essentials. Hange has also been trying to manage their time better as a way of retribution that they can do better for your relationship, even though they no longer have any means of telling you (which is the harsh reality that they don't want to accept).

"Pfft, don't question it!" Nanaba pats Hange's shoulder as the cat rubs itself on her legs. "I would do anything for this little one! I've grown to like Ion so much, I want to keep him forever!"

"If only Miche wasn't allergic, I'm sure Ion would love to be your new owner," Hange jokes, mentioning Miche, one of Nanaba's roommates.

"Oh, you're just saying that. I'm sure you're a great owner. Sometimes you simply don't have the time to be perfect, and that's okay!"

Nanaba leaves a few moments later after giving Ion a much-needed head pat. Afterward, Hange and the cat decide it would be best to lounge at the living room couch and stare at the ceiling to absorb the quiet.

Ion struts over to the empty space by Hange's feet and lays his body flat. A few seconds later, he conforms his body into the oh-so-famous "catloaf" position, hiding his limbs and tail under his chunky body. Closing his eyes, Ion drifts off to sleep while a laying Hange watches the feline.

Ion, a male orange tabby Persian cat, is the devil reincarnate who happens to be your and Hange's practice child. Hange remembers you describing Ion to be the real-life twin of Garfield, the fictional cat who happens to be of the same breed. They recall questioning your choice at the adoption center upon hearing your many complaints of the feline's behavior, but you shook your head and snuggled the animal in your neck.

"This one's okay," you told them. The cat purred. "I need a little shit for a cat to entertain myself with whenever you aren't around. Also, it should be good training for a kid in the future."

Hange recalls bringing the cat home after a long day and trying their best to make friends with it. You chose the cat yourself, so it liked you more than it did Hange, but it didn't take long for it to start liking them.

"Hey, it likes me!" Hange cheered to themselves as the cat rested on their chest. You smiled. "I can't wait for it to like me better than you."

"You wish!" you retorted, seething with jealousy.

The cat was nameless for a few days as the both of you tried to come up with the perfect name, opting to call it "The Cat" for the meantime. You were against the common ones in favor of unique names, but you were also against certain names that could fool people into mistaking your cat for a human.

Hange kept suggesting the strangest names that were more often than not derived from scientific terms—you liked most of them, but they sounded too scientific for an orange cat who spends most days lazing around the flat. For lack of a better word, they sounded out of character.

That was only until Hange came home from a productive day at the lab, where they toured a bunch of interns and introduced them to their stations.

"Knock, knock," they began. You didn't reply. "You're supposed to say, 'Who's there?'"

"Is this another orange joke?" you asked. Hange shook their head.

"No! It's even better than that. Knock, knock."

You rolled your eyes, laughing.

"Who's there?"

"Cation."

"Cation who?"

"Can't ion-ly knock once? I'm positive you'll open up!"

You snickered.

"You and your silly jokes. Please don't tell me you were telling the interns knock-knock jokes at the lab all day."

"Ha-ha." Hange laughed slowly. "Wow, you totally figured it out!"

Suddenly, The Cat leaped onto Hange's shoulder, frightening them momentarily before being seized. The Cat struggled in Hange's arms as your partner hadn't learned the proper ways of holding a cat yet, but The Cat eventually nestled on their chest. A bright idea came to mind.

"Hange," you called out to them in excitement. They looked at you, intrigued. "What do you call a meowing ion?"

They thought about it silently.

Once they realized, they held up The Cat in the air, effectively surprising the feline.

"A cation!" they answered. They swayed The Cat around swiftly, confusing the poor animal who had no clue of what was to come. "You're a genius, (Y/N)! We should call this one Ion!"

It was a simple but nice name, one that you liked enough to give your partner the go-signal to name the cat as such. Ion seemed to like his name as he picked up on it quickly. It took him a week to get used to the one-syllable three-lettered name before it occurred to him that his two owners identified him with it.

At present, Hange watches Ion open his eyes and hop on the coffee table, sniffing the black tea they had prepared for themselves (this time, melatonin-free). Suddenly, he spots a particular item on the open shelf by the television and jumps over to inspect it, prompting Hange to move.

"No, Ion, get away from there."

Hange stands up from the couch and walks toward the cat. They heave it from the shelf with skilled hands, but it refuses to be picked up as it clings to a picture frame, its claws digging into the glass. Ion hugs the frame for dear life, but its grasp isn't enough to support the weight. One wrong move and it will fall.

"Ugh, put that down, you little cat! If that breaks, I swear to god!"

They manage to get the item out of its grasp when Ion is distracted. Hange decides to put the frame on their work desk in the study room, the one space in the entire apartment that the mischievous cat rarely enters, and believes it to be a fool-proof plan.

Despite all efforts, however, Ion leaps from Hange's hold and onto their work desk.

"Ion!" They grumble in frustration, seeing the cat sniff the picture frame and sit beside it. The photograph is special; it was a photo of you and Hange on your first anniversary that they never bothered to put down after the breakup because they've been clinging on to the little shimmer of hope that you would come back. It's one of the few traces they have left of you at home (and they're eternally grateful that you decided to leave it), so if the cat breaks it, it's over.

Another wave of sadness washes over them when Ion caresses the glass with his paw. Hange notices how he paws your face in the photograph, clearly missing your presence. They frown.

"I know, Ion. I miss her, too." They rub the cat's fur comfortingly. "I'm sorry for being stupid. If I could let you see her again, I would."

And they mean that. The cat misses you dearly and it breaks Hange's heart to imagine that it probably thinks you're dead. Hange isn't too deep into zoology to know if animals can understand human conflict, but they most likely don't. They suppose cat and human break ups are different.

Ion meows as his owner picks him up with a tight grip. He tries to reach out to the frame once more with his stubby limbs as Hange pulls him away from the desk, but he unleashes his claws in protest and grips Hange's shoulder in a devious attack.

"Ow— what the fuck!" Hange hisses as Ion's claws dig deep into their shoulder. They let go of Ion as he leaps back on top of the table, sitting beside the picture frame once more.

They palm their scratched shoulder, glaring at the cat.

"Alright, you want to stay in here like a sulking loser?! Fine by me!"

Hange leaves the study with the door open and the light fixture turned on just so they wouldn't forget to retrieve Ion later. As they walk to the bathroom to wash the wound and rub it with an ointment, they put on some music with the iPad Mini they rarely use.

When the device connects to their home network, a notification instantly appears on screen.

(Y/N) (L/N) recently added to their story.

Hange stands in front of the mirror, dumbfounded.

Not knowing what to do, they simply stare at the notification with raised eyebrows, feeling their chest get heavier by the second. They have an internal argument with their imaginary shoulder devil, who tempts them into clicking the notification. Nothing can go wrong, right? Well, it's just social media—yet their angelic side knocks into their conscience in hopes of waking them up from the temptation, serving as some sort of warning for any consequence that is to come the moment they snoop around your social media. Hange doesn't do anything long enough for the notification banner to disappear, effectively sealing their decision to ignore it—

Hange clicks on the notification at the last second.

The Instagram app opens, then it loads the first photo you added to your story an hour ago.

Great job, Hange. You're responsible for your actions and for your broken heart! They think.

Once your Instagram story loads, Hange recognizes you in a group photo with your friends from university. Dressed in comfortable clothing and makeup done so beautifully, Hange thinks you look stunning as usual. You look no different from the last time they saw you, but they're not quite sure how you're doing behind the sweet smile you have on your face.

Or perhaps they're just projecting their own sadness and can't fathom the idea of you moving on from them. It's a selfish thought coming from the person who initiated the break up, but they yearn so hard for you to still be in love with them against all odds.

Who's a sulking loser now? They think again.

They tap through your story, thoughts continuing to barrage their mind until the last one catches them off guard.

It seems pretty normal: a photo of the sunset with a song from an artist you like playing in the background, not until they notice the little green icon at the topmost part of the screen. They're still in your Close Friends.

They squint their eyes and read the small text at the bottom of the image.

let me see ion one more time pls. i miss everything

"What the hell?"

Breathing in deeply, Hange steps away from the iPad in shock. Dramatic, they know—and there is absolutely no way that this is real since they have been blocked from your contacts just a few days after the breakup, but knowing you, this is something that you would totally do. And it's not like you voiced out to see them—you wanted to see Ion, the cat. Hange should be jealous that the cat gets your attention in this scenario, but knowing you (yet again), you would never be the one to articulate that kind of desire. Regardless, Hange knows that you still want them. Or they pray that you do.

You must. You have to.

Hange is just surprised that they chanced upon your story since they haven't opened their Instagram account in months, and truth be told, they only had one for the sake of having a social media presence that isn't Facebook. Suddenly, the pain in their shoulder fades away, and their only goal is to find some way to respond without sounding like a selfish asshole.

They should post a story with just you in their Close Friends, something that would totally shock you like how you shocked them. Hange believes it's an amazing plan until they try to execute it. Well, they had never posted anything on their story before. Everything that they ever posted on the platform went directly to their feed which over time became a messy jumbled dump of random photos. They don't have many followers, either. You had once called them a "shitposter" with a "garbage dump of a feed", which tells Hange enough that they probably shouldn't proceed with the plan.

So, they settle for your private messages with a direct reply to your story.

Upon opening your direct messages, however, Hange's heart sinks. You didn't block them on Instagram, much less take down the customized settings in your private chat, so everything stayed the same as before as if nothing ever happened: your nickname is still "My Darling Dearest", while theirs is a matching "my beloved". Your chat theme is still the "Love" theme on Instagram with your back-and-forth messages colored pink.

Hange thinks of what to say, what to type. This will be your first conversation since the breakup, after all. They shouldn't mess it up by saying something stupid.

An idea comes to mind. Hange hurriedly exits the bathroom, iPad Mini in hand, and enters their study. They find Ion in the same position as before, laying beside your picture frame as he paws on your photograph. Hange tucks the iPad in between their armpit and seizes Ion from behind.

"A-ha! Gotcha!" Rejoicing, Hange carries the cat out of the study as he instantly goes feral in their hold. They restrain his paws as much as they can while they talk Ion into doing them a favor. "Please, Ion, don't you want to see your mother again? (Y/N)?"

At the sound of your name, the cat calms down and Hange sighs.

Man, this cat has issues.

With the behaved cat, Hange sits on the couch and places Ion on their lap, belly facing them. The cat looks at them in confusion, watching his owner pull out the iPad and excitedly open the Camera app to take a photo of his vulnerable form.

"Mrao?" the cat asks.

"Just stay still," they order.

Ion makes a face of disapproval and shuts his eyes tightly, stretching his limbs out as he tries to contain his annoyance. He wants to see you again, even if it means just staring at your photograph and burning your image in his head, as opposed to being captured and taken photos of like a show animal. He loves Hange for feeding him and taking care of him, but why would they separate him from you? He misses you so much.

"Looks good enough." Ion hears Hange mumble to themselves. He meows another time in a questioning tone to ask if the job is finally done so that he can go back to admiring your photograph. When Hange puts him down on the ground, he bolts for the study.

Meanwhile, Hange stares at the messages they had sent you on Instagram.

my beloved: Heyy... Ion misses you too... my beloved: Attached Image my beloved: hahahahhaaafh :') Seen

They sound like a nervous wreck, akin to a middle schooler who's confessing to someone for the very first time in fear of rejection. Hange doesn't expect you to reply right away, so they stow away the iPad on the coffee table while they scream into one of the couch pillows to relieve their stress. Suddenly, the device vibrates.

Hange is looking at the notification in no time.

My Darling Dearest: thank you

Their heart leaps out of their chest. You replied. You actually replied. It's a simple thank you that probably doesn't mean much to anyone else, but it means the entire world to them given the current circumstances. Hange breaks into a grin as they stand up from the couch and pace around the living room, rereading your two-word reply over and over again.

my beloved: Of course of course, don't mention it!!! my beloved: Sorry for the exclamation points, I'm not shouting :( Seen

Their celebration ends quickly, however, as Hange curses to themselves upon typing a stupid response with the apology at the end. They take a deep breath. Okay, Hange. Don't mess this up now!

They watch as the read receipt appears at the bottom of their message. A small bubble with three dots appears then disappears every so often. You continue to type for the next 30 seconds and Hange grows anxious.

When you don't reply, their shoulders fall.

"Just my luck," they mutter. Hange is left at read even after six minutes of waiting. At this point, they can't identify the best course of action after getting ignored. They guess that it's better than being left at delivered, and that they should be grateful that you replied in the first place, so they exit the app and admit defeat.

But they come back running a minute later after having realized that they should initiate. Of course you wouldn't want to talk to Hange after they broke your heart—even if you still love them dearly, it's only appropriate if you refrain from any kind of interaction... yet you had replied to their message when you could have just totally ghosted them, removed your cute chat decorations, and blocked them on every social media platform there is to exist.

Hange isn't giving up on your relationship. They can't give up on you.

my beloved: To tell you the truth, I saw your story earlier and I figured that you might want to see Ion again my beloved: I understand if you don't want to see me, but I can drop him off my beloved: He misses mom a lot! D: Seen

Hange observes just how fast you read their message and smiles to themselves when they see you typing. They're glad they pulled the "our-son-misses-you" card as it seemed to be enough to get your attention. Hange looks at their study, remembering the cat who's snuggled up with your photo. Ion would be more than delightful to hear about this.

My Darling Dearest: tomorrow 2 PM. my beloved: Oh okay!! my beloved: May I ask where? 😅 My Darling Dearest: i'm staying at nifa's my beloved: We will be there! Seen

Hange giggles, kicking their feet. They throw the iPad on the couch and run to the study. Picking up Ion from the work desk, they hoist the cat in the air as they celebrate. "We did it! We're seeing (Y/N) tomorrow!"

"Miaow!"

"I know! Okay, I'm giving you a bath tonight." Hange puts him down and lets the cat roam free. Suddenly, they remember that they have work tomorrow. It's currently Sunday afternoon and their workload is calling their name. "Fuck."

Running their fingers through their hair, they shake their head. It shouldn't matter. They have more important things to attend to.

FOUR.

"Look, I'm sorry for being an asshole. I reflected on everything I said the past month and I understand that I was wrong. Please, from the bottom of my heart, can you give me a second chance?"

"Wrrrao!"

"Ugh, get up. We're both bad at this."

Ion meows angrily a second time when Hange picks him up. It's his call of hunger. He demands food and water because he's Hange's (and your) precious cat who can do no wrong, like the king of the flat, the king of everything. Hange situates Ion on their shoulder and lets him balance there as they prepare the cat food that Nanaba had sent yesterday. He smugly watches Hange plate his meal and promptly hops off their shoulder once they put his pet bowl on the ground. While Ion digs into his breakfast, Hange disappears into the bedroom and locks themselves inside to be left alone with their thoughts.

Ever since you consented to seeing Ion—and Hange—yesterday afternoon, they decided to call in sick at work. Once that problem was out of the way (which, to their surprise, was a fairly easy process), they decided to craft an apology to rehearse if they ever find the time to insert a small discussion in your "casual" meeting.

"That's great to hear, Hange!" Erwin told them last night over FaceTime. Hange had to break the news to someone other than the cat, and since Erwin (and Levi) had been there for them since day one, they decided to tell him immediately. They were hoping to get his opinion on the matter, maybe some word of advice and a 101 on "how-to-approach-your-ex-girlfriend". But Erwin was empty-handed, equally clueless as he hadn't been in their shoes before; he never tried to get back together with an ex. He was hopeful, though. "Sorry about that. In any case, I believe you can handle it on your own. No one knows her better than you."

But Hange isn't handling this as well as they'd hoped. Usually quick with words, they thought finding the right ones for their apology would come naturally, but it hasn't. Every attempt feels clumsy, every phrase falls short. The weight of the moment presses on them, and the uncertainty of how this meeting will unfold only makes it worse. It could go right, or it could go wrong—but Hange can't shake the sinking feeling that the odds of success have never felt slimmer.

Hange wonders what's running through your mind. Did you sleep well last night after your conversation? Are your friends warning you it's a bad idea to meet up with your ex? Or maybe you're considering canceling altogether? They figure that's unlikely, though—after all, you've missed Ion like crazy. Your bond with Ion (Hange chuckles softly at their own chemistry joke) is far too strong for you to say no to seeing him. Still, they wouldn't blame you if you canceled. After all, who'd want to face the person who shattered their heart?

Regardless, Hange has been rehearsing countless scenarios, crafting a plan for every possible outcome if things don't go their way. They've already revised their apology at least four times, hoping one version will hit the right note when they see you this afternoon. In one scenario, they picture knocking on your old friend and roommate Nifa's door, leaving Ion on the doorstep, and waiting out of sight until you step outside to find him sitting there, alone on the mat. Then, they'd emerge—calm, composed—and launch into their carefully prepared speech. In another, they imagine standing at the doorway, holding Ion and a bouquet of flowers, their nerves barely hidden. They'd offer you both—flowers and cat alike—with a heartfelt apology for their foolish mistakes, hoping it's enough to bridge the gap they created.

As they sit in silence, though, Hange thinks they're going overboard. You would probably appreciate it if they brought you something other than the cat, but spoiling you with flowers and some other romantic shit when you aren't together anymore just sounds... pathetic. Pitiful. It feels like they're begging for your love through material possessions when they shouldn't. They hurt you with their words, their gestures, so they might as well patch it up by promising to do better and showing it all through their actions.

So Hange arrives with just the cat. No flowers, no chocolates, none of that romantic stuff. Just them, Ion, their keys, and wallet.

Breathing in, Hange rings the doorbell. They arrived pretty early—it's still 1:46 PM, but your and Nifa's old apartment used to be on the other side of town so they had to leave the flat early. As they wait to be let in, they stroke Ion's orange fur and pray to a transcendent being that everything will be okay.

FIVE.

A month away from Hange feels longer than it should have been. A month is a year in your book, and on some days, it feels even longer.

It's the aftermath of a breakup—an unwelcome shadow that lingers over your life. Even with a regular job to keep you busy, Hange's words haunt you, often pushing you to the brink of a breakdown. You can't seem to escape it. The moment you're alone with nothing to distract you, the discomfort creeps in, settling like a heavy knot in your stomach. Whether it lasts three minutes or five, it always ends the same, your tears threatening to spill as the weight becomes too much to bear.

To your luck, your old roommate Nifa had provided you amazing company while you tried to mend your broken heart. You met her in university when you moved out from your hometown and lived within the residence halls for the duration of your undergraduate program. When your friend group expanded, the both of you moved out of the dorms with Abel and Keiji into a four-bedroom apartment near campus, which became your home until you decided to move in with Hange three years ago. Hence, when you stormed out of your apartment after the breakup with nothing but your phone and wallet, Nifa was the first person you called.

She welcomed you to your old home with open arms, followed by Abel and Keiji who came running back home to tackle you into a group hug. You had been away for so long that they almost didn't recognize you—you had grown since you had last seen them five months ago, but you ought to think that it was the stress taking a toll on your body.

The merriment of your return drifted away as you explained to the boys why you visited. They comforted you for the rest of the evening and offered every kind of help. To say they were disappointed about the news was an understatement. Abel and Keiji were upset to learn the details, while Nifa exploded into flames—they found it absurd that Hange broke up with you and not the other way around.

"Seriously, why would someone do that to the sweetest girl out there?!" Nifa exclaimed, eyebrows knitted and face evidently furious.

You agreed with them. It was quite strange that Hange ended your relationship for that reason when it was something you could have made amends with. You had never fought in your relationship as any issue encountered was almost immediately solved with proper communication. It had always been that way since you started noticing Hange's workaholic attitude, which merely turned out for the worst.

You were lonely. On some days, you felt unloved. Hange couldn't spare you a glance as you made breakfast in the morning because they would be working away at the study the moment they woke up. The longest stretch without any real acknowledgment from them lasted four days, and it drove you mad. It was a cycle of waking up, going to work, and going to bed without them, and you had never felt more distant. You tried to invite them out to dinner in hopes of rebuilding your relationship, but you were always politely turned down.

That was arguably the worst part: they weren't mean about it. In fact, Hange seemed genuinely apologetic every time they declined. Yet as the days dragged on, the apologies began to sting. It didn't feel like them to refuse you so often. They had always loved going out with you, and even when work consumed their time in the past, they had always found a way to make room for you. This wasn't the Hange you knew.

What changed? You had wondered. Hange was always running around doing things and you were aware of that. They could never sit still because there was always something that they wanted to work on. You loved that about them; it was what you found interesting about Hange that made you fall for them harder. There is great honor in working so scholarly at a lab day and night and you couldn't be any prouder, but to do so in excess transformed it into a vice that hurt the both of you deeply.

Hange didn't know how to take care of themselves until you came into the picture. Their obsession with constantly working on things hindered them from eating regularly or looking after themselves. When their schedule got tighter the past few months and you witnessed their health deteriorating like a decreasing health bar in a video game, you got mad. Call it motherly girlfriend instincts and whatnot, but you were bothered by it.

"You didn't eat your food." You frowned upon seeing the small container with the food you cooked that morning. "What the— Hange! Why is your water bottle still full?!"

It was excessive. They weren't eating the food you packed them yet they would have the audacity to come up to you a few days later with a growling, aching stomach. "I swear, if you develop an ulcer, what are we going to do?!" You would cook for Hange whenever that happened, whether it be at 10 in the evening or two in the morning. Whenever they needed something, you were up and standing, ready to help them with whatever—and it was exactly why it hurt so much when they couldn't even hang out with you like you used to.

"I can do it all for you, so why can't you do it for me?"

Nonetheless, you didn't want to break up. No, that wasn't the best decision. It never was and it never will be. Hange is a scientist with a passion for learning, so surely they can learn to be better, yet they ended your relationship like they weren't willing to.

And even after weeks of not having Hange by your side, it still pissed you off so much that they couldn't just listen to you or make the commitment to do so. You couldn't suppress your anxiety either. Everyday, you would think about how they're doing without you being there to maintain things at home. You doubt the note you left by the fridge was enough to keep them going. While they eventually had to learn how to do things without you, there's a discomfort at the pit of your stomach that they wouldn't be able to live like normal without you around. Their regular job requires lots of time and attention on top of the many other commitments they have—hell, they probably will struggle with taking care of the cat!

Although the wound in your heart faded as time passed. While you still worried for Hange, your hurt became anger and anger became misery. You were upset—so upset, and you miss Hange (and Ion) so badly. Moving out of your apartment with not even a single word of closure stung so badly as if a part of your soul left and never returned. You would do anything in your power to get back together with them again, but was it a good decision to initiate?

"Especially when they ended it first?" Nifa spoke, rubbing her knees with cold hands as she sat across you on the living room floor. You had asked her if it was a good idea to ever come running back to an ex, to give them a second chance to make things better. "Usually not, but this kind of scenario often plays out for cheaters. Maybe it wouldn't be bad to get back together."

"I second that," Keiji said, seated on the armchair. "If they still don't change, make sure to end it once and for all."

"I wouldn’t initiate it myself," Abel added. Nifa shot him a pointed look, but he continued. "They broke up with you. No offense, but do yourself a favor—don’t go making a fool of yourself chasing after someone when you’re not even sure they want you back. If Hange wants to reconcile, let them do the begging."

You took their advice and followed your heart. You wanted to get back together because you weren't letting a single argument be the end of your relationship, and if Hange didn't want to restore your connection, you at least wanted some form of closure. On top of that, you wanted to see your cat.

So you distracted yourself.

You waited for them to reach out. Right after the breakup, you had blocked Hange's number partly to avoid the inevitable messages, knowing full well they'd try to reach out after a couple of days of silence. But you weren't ready to talk at the time, so their contact remained blocked for an entire week while you sorted through your emotions and sought advice from your friends. Eventually wanting to hear from them, you unblocked their number and left the door open for them to message you, but to your dismay, the days passed in silence and Hange hadn't reached out at all.

You looked through your private messages on different platforms yet you didn't receive any word from them. Your heart sunk at the revelation. Maybe Hange didn't want to talk to you. After all, they hid themselves inside their study when you came back to the apartment the morning after the breakup to pack your things into boxes. Maybe Hange truly didn't want to talk.

Grief consumed you in the days that followed, yet you couldn't bring yourself to reach out, afraid it would only deepen your pain. If nearly three weeks had passed without a word from Hange, it had to mean they were done with you, didn't it? Still, you clung stubbornly to the faint hope that they'd reach out one day. As the silence stretched on, however, the weight of waiting became too much to bear, and you knew you had to do something about it.

You couldn't stand it anymore. Waiting around for nothing just made you more anxious than you already were, so off to Instagram you went, removing everyone in your Close Friends except Hange. You knew they rarely spent time online except for networking sites like LinkedIn and ResearchGate, but you wanted to send some kind of signal without being too obvious.

You had gone out with your roommates the day you posted the story, so if Hange ever decided to open their Instagram after months of inactivity, it wouldn't be too obvious that you posted. When the post went through, you held your breath and ditched your phone to calm your raging nerves.

Will it work? Will they even see it? You thought to yourself, hopeful about the outcomes.

After an hour of waiting, however, you didn't hear anything from them. No view receipt, no new message, nothing. It didn't hurt that much since Hange rarely opened Instagram in the first place, but you were hoping that they would at least have the idea of coming online to check your account. Yet their account showed no activity, the green dot at the side of their profile picture missing every time you checked.

Suddenly, your phone vibrated. A notification went through.

my beloved Heyy... Ion misses you too...

The rest was history. You managed to arrange a meeting with Hange the following day under the guise of meeting Ion, but you hadn't done so without prancing around your room like a panicking idiot. You hadn't told anybody about posting your story in fear of jinxing things, so you replied to Hange with no one's help but yourself.

Now, you sit at the dining table with your roommates, who bicker over Keiji's homemade lunch about a manga series they've been following. You eat your food in silence as you think of a way to tell your friends that you had invited Hange over for a casual meeting in two hours, but you're left dry with ideas.

Eventually, it comes out of your mouth.

"What?" Abel mumbles to himself, freezing midair with the serving spoon and a bowl of chicken in his hands. Keiji drops his fork.

"You did what?!" Nifa screeches, followed by an apology from Abel for her indecency. "Girl, I— sorry, you invited them here? Like, you aren't joking?"

"Listen, I"—you gulp—"I invited them because I wanted to see the cat."

"Never mind the cat. Your ex is still coming," Nifa points out.

"Of course, I know that—"

"Are you sure about this?" Abel asks. Your eyes fall down to your plate. "Just so we're clear, we're not mad at you for having them over."

"I understand," you reply.

"We're worried for you."

"I understand that, too," you say. Abel is silent. "Look, I know it sounds dumb, but I promise I didn't invite them over just like that. I truly did want to see Ion and I wasn't expecting a reply."

"What did you do?" Keiji asks. You tell him about your elaborate plan and he nods his head in approval. "Wow. You have insane luck."

"I do, and I just— I meant it when I said that I didn't expect it, okay? You all know Hange, they're... chronically offline. Not that good with social media."

Nifa snorts. "Yeah, you could say that again. I'm surprised they even knew how to reply to an Insta story." Mashing her chicken with her fork, she clears her throat. "Well, I guess we should get going ASAP."

"You aren't mad?" you ask, surprised.

"I don't see the point. You should live your life the way you want to," she says. "Also, it makes us feel better that you're here because of a misunderstanding and not any of that cheating bullshit."

"I would have ripped their throat out if you had come here for that." Keiji seethes. You giggle.

"Don't worry. You'll never have to."

"Ugh, why am I tearing up?" Nifa dramatically pauses. She lets go of her utensils and leans over to your side. "God, come here for a hug!"

"Group hug!" Keiji rejoices, his hands automatically locating your head and giving you a couple of pats. Abel follows suit, leaning next to you.

"Just don't hurt yourself," he says as he embraces you back. Keiji and Nifa nod.

"I won't. I promise."

SIX.

Your roommates left the apartment after they finished cleaning up. They promised to hang out for a few hours at a nearby café and that they would be one call away in case you needed anything. They trusted that you and Hange won't go batshit crazy at the apartment, but if it ever came down to that, Keiji and Abel promised to arrive in three minutes tops.

The clock ticks by as the silence envelopes the apt. You're sitting on the arm of the couch as you bounce your knee impatiently. It's 1:45 PM, exactly 15 minutes before your scheduled meeting, yet you're already stationed by the door.

You inhale sharply when the doorbell rings.

Standing from the couch, you approach the entrance. You look through the peephole to check the new arrival, and your heart swells upon seeing a patch of orange fur in Hange's arms.

It's now or never.

You open the door.

"Hi. I'm here, like you asked... ha-ha." Hange laughs slowly, the awkwardness sinking in. When silence falls in the air, they look at the cat and offer him to you. "Um, anyway, here's Ion, the cat. Our cat... that we, um, co-parent together— sorry, was that term triggering? Whatever. Anyway, here he is— oh, uhuh, yep— Ion, relax!"

Ion leaps into your arms the moment he realizes that you're in front of him. You look the same as the last time he saw you, your features still recognizable by his little cat brain. Ion is also delighted to see that you aren't crying anymore. When you dashed in and out of the apartment a month ago with tears falling on your face, he couldn't handle the fear and confusion that consumed him.

The moment you catch the cat, you hold him close to your chest and snuggle his head into your shoulder. Ion does so obediently, sniffing you in the process to refresh his memory with your scent. Hange watches the scene unfold in front of them, their heart warming up and a big smile appearing on their face as Ion happily purrs in your hold. Leaning on the door, they allow themselves to get lost at the warm sight in front of them, nostalgic of the domestic life with you and your feline child.

When Ion calms down, you thank Hange sheepishly.

"Well," you start after a few seconds of quiet, "are you just going to stand there?"

"Oh." Hange's eyes shoot up. "You want me to...?"

You sigh. "Just come in."

Hange follows your request and slowly walks in the apartment. As you close the door, they look around to observe. So much has changed since the last time they visited. It's a much bigger space compared to your shared one on the other side of town to house four people, and although your creative touch is initially unrecognizable as opposed to the old days, Hange figures out that if they look hard enough, they can see your touches here and there—the flower vase at the foot of the TV and the little figurines inside the glass shelf by the dining room corner are household articles that only they can recognize in familiarity.

"Are your roommates home?" they ask. You shake your head. "So that leaves the both of us here... alone?"

You sit yourself on the couch and release Ion to let him explore the apartment. Hange cautiously occupies the space beside you, leaving some space in between to make things less awkward.

You bat your eyelashes. Nodding your head, you purse your lips and decide to let your actions do the talking. You still aren't sure if you want to initiate the conversation, so you leave the opportunity for Hange to grab.

And they notice. Taking a deep breath in, Hange decides it's the perfect time to address the elephant in the room.

"I'm sorry," they say softly. Rubbing their hands together, they decide at the last second to ditch their script and just go for it. You listen intently. "I thought about it after you moved out. I've done wrong in the past, but this has to be the pinnacle of my mistakes. I was mad, and I didn't realize the weight of my words until you left... I'm sorry."

"Is that all?"

"No." They shake their head. "Of course not. I would say more, but it gets overwhelming." Hange turns their head to the side and meets your eyes for the first time in a month. You allow them to look. "What do you want to know?"

You shift in your seat.

"Why you broke up with me." Hange looks away when they hear the sadness in your voice. "Why you thought breaking up was the best decision at that time."

"I didn't," they say. "I eventually regretted it. I still do."

"But you just let me be." You frowned. "You didn't... you didn't chase after me, you didn't run after me when I left the next day. I didn't even receive a single message after two weeks—"

"You know I wanted to," Hange cuts you off, looking back at you with a pained expression. "But I had to stop myself. I couldn't start begging you to come back without considering your feelings. What kind of person would that make me, if not even more selfish?"

They lean forward, elbows on their knees as they stare into nothingness. "I was angry. Stubborn, but angry. When you nagged at me, I just— I just wanted you away. I didn't want to be disturbed and it annoyed me when you did because I was working. I did it to push you away even though it wasn't the best decision."

"That was a mistake, Hange," you remark. Hange mutters a quick, "I know," in response. "Did you think that I could do better?"

"You could say that. For the longest time, I never thought of one to be less sufficient than the other. We were great, but I couldn't meet your needs as well as before when things were becoming busy." Hange rests their forehead on the heels of their palms and shuts their eyes. "I wanted focus. I didn't want distractions, and more importantly, I was tired."

Expression turning sour, you say, "Distraction? Our relationship was a distraction, was that it?"

"It," Hange hesitates, "it was what I thought."

Leaning back on the couch, you look away from Hange as their words sink in. Your eyes well up with tears, an irksome occurrence amid the exchange. You promised yourself earlier that you wouldn't cry as you had already done enough in the past few weeks, but they just come, and you make no effort to stop them.

"Even after everything I did?"

Hange heeds the hurt in your voice, prompting them to come closer in response for comfort.

"I-I'm sorry. I promise you, I thought things out when you were gone and I regret it. I really do!"

"A distraction," you choke out. "Ugh, god. I've never heard that one before."

"I'm sorry..." Hange says for the nth time that day. They try to come closer to see your face, but you avoid them. "I didn't have my priorities straight. I always made time for you in the past, but I just got so obsessed and I— I'm so sorry."

No response. You let your tears run while you cry in silence. Hange doesn't know what to do and the panic settles in.

"Hey… I realized how hard it was to live without you, so I'm here to talk it out." You sniff. Hange is starting to crumble. "Baby, I'm a difficult person who had an easier life because of you. In hindsight, you were no distraction. I thought that way because I was an obsessive freak, and I hate myself for hurting you! I've gotten even crankier to the point of drinking Levi's melatonin black tea, and— and—"

Ion suddenly hops on you, finding his normal spot on your lap before you decided to one day disappear from his life. Surprised, you let the cat sit on your lap as he meows anxiously at the tension in the air. Hange breathes in.

"The cat!" They cry. "The cat misses you! He scratches me like I'm a walking cat scratcher every time he demands to see you. He's been wondering where his mother went because she hasn't been home in a month!"

Hange watches Ion purr against your touch, enjoying your company as he realizes that you aren't dead after all, just gone for a very long time. He turns around from his seated position on your lap to lay on his back, his tummy showing and vulnerable to you, a sign of trust toward his owner.

Hange's heart sinks another time when you pull Ion close after wiping your tears away, a bittersweet pang reminding them of the days when they could simply glance at you and the cat, content in the quiet comfort of your shared space as they worked in their study. For what feels like the hundredth time that day, regret wells up, filling the hollow ache in their chest. If it weren't for your presence keeping them anchored, they might have broken down completely right then and there.

"I'm sorry," they choke out as they gently reach for your hand and hold it in theirs, possibly for the final time. They know there isn't a single word, phrase, or sentence out there that can articulate the graveness of their apology, but they hope to get it across as much as they can. "I'm an asshole for coming here in the first place, but if it means getting proper closure and allowing our cat to see you again, I don't regret it. I hope you can forgive me for invading your space."

You sigh. "That's enough, Hange."

"Huh?" They drop your hand in response, afraid of what's to come.

"I get it. You're sorry for what you did." Ion rolls around in your lap, soon standing on his hind legs with his forelegs reaching out to you for a hug. You hug him back. "I'm just, um, I'm just worried now, and I've been worried. How were you? Were you doing okay?"

Hange exhales in relief. "Dear, you didn't have to worry about me."

You frown.

"No, love. I want to worry about you. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn't?" Hange's heart skips a beat when you call them with the term of endearment. "So? How was life then?"

"I reached the conclusion that being single isn't good for me." They pout. They hold your hand again. "I struggled so much alone. I survived, but surviving isn't living. Life felt empty when I didn't have the sweetest girl making me happy."

"You're just saying that."

"No, I mean it! I love living with you, I love loving you. I know I can do that even when we're not together, but it makes my life so much fuller when you're in the picture."

They look down at Ion, who looks at them from his peripheral vision like he's judging them dramatically.

"You and Ion, of course."

"Mrrao!"

Snuggling with Ion, you kiss his nose. He purrs back in contentment.

"I just... I didn't feel as loved as I used to," you say. "I love living my life knowing that it's you who I end up with, but I must have loved you too hard. Maybe I love you too much because I want to spend more time with you, to always be around you."

"And you aren't selfish for that," Hange declares. "You deserve to be loved for the woman you are and for the love you give. You did so much for me, yet I didn't pay you back. You had every right to complain. Now that you have, I hope to make things right and compensate you for all the times I acted so dumbly. I'll make time for you again and I'll take care of myself better—I promise."

"But how do I know that you're telling the truth?" you whisper. Second chances are hard to come by. To give an ex this special chance to make things right doesn't happen to just anyone, and it rarely even works out the second time around. What is Hange willing to do for you when you've already done so much for them? "Tell me what you're willing to do. How do I know, Hange?"

"Because I called off everything I had to do today just to come here." Hange smiles a bit. That's your cue to realize that they did, indeed, skip work today just to visit you and iron things out. It's a Monday afternoon, and Hange could have simply taken a half-day shift, but they decided against it entirely. "And, as a matter of fact, I would do it again, and again, and again."

"Oh, Hange, don't waste your—"

"No, no! You got the wrong idea!" they exclaim. "I'm not going to take the entire week off just to prove a point briefly and go back to being a douchebag the following week. I figured that, out of everything, temperance is a virtue that I should work on. I want to be there for you when you need me and I will be there."

Your tears have dried at this point, having left a puffy texture on your eyes. Hange carefully massages your hand in theirs as you find the right words to say.

"Promise me this, Hange."

"I promise."

"Then kiss me if you want to seal it."

With a big grin on their face, Hange leans forward and wraps their hands around your body, laughing softly as Ion looks up in between the both of you with curious eyes. Hange pats his head, mumbles a quick apology to the cat, and kisses you gently with that silly grin still on their face. You kiss them back slowly, heart warming up to the sweet moment of having your partner back into your life to complete your little family of three.

Hange pulls away, but they stay close to you, their hands cupping your face. "I missed you so badly."

"I missed you, too. Being away from you killed me more than being with you all the time. Believe it or not, it felt more toxic." You sigh. "I want to move back in, but you need to give me a few days to… well, process things."

"Of course, take your time as needed. I can't just steal you a second time from your roommates, you know?" Hange jokes as they stroke your cheek.

"I stole you from Erwin and Levi," you deadpan, "but yes, it should be fine. Just give me time to say goodbye and pack my things."

Hange looks over to the side. A part of them feels guilty for taking you away from your roommates so easily. "You don't have to move in right away if you still want to stay here for a bit, you know? I respect your decision if you think it's too fast."

You shake your head cutely. "Cut that out! We need to pay our bills soon and I have to cuddle Ion in bed!"

"Huh? But what about me?" They frown out of jealousy. Ion yawns, like he's telling them to get over it. "Cheeky cat."

"You'll get even better cuddles." You giggle. Hange laughs along, completely missing the innuendo. They're just happy to hear you giggling again. "To start, would you like a complete family hug? Maybe you'd even want to stay for a bit. The guys won't be going home unless I tell them to—"

"Are you joking? I would love to!"

If you found Hange clingy before you broke up, then you certainly find their behavior ten times more excessive now. Upon your request, they rest their body on yours, placing their head on your chest and feeling the rise and fall of your calm breaths. They pet the cat next to them, whom Hange believes to have smiled as well when he notices your physical contact. They're right—Ion is happy. He's satisfied seeing that his two owners are back together, and that neither of you are crying anymore.

As they lay on your chest, Hange lets their mind go numb. They lay in silence, keeping their delighted reactions to themselves when you would fiddle with their hair or play with their fingers. The moment is spent in quietude, but it's perfect—the ideal time for Hange to solemnly swear to the gods, the transcendent beings, to themselves, most especially, that they will never let you go.

There are only so many people in the world that they get along with, let alone be so open to the idea of loving. Hange vows to stay true to their words, to treat you better—kiss you better—as you have always deserved.

ctto for the cat photo (via pinterest)

also i saw this tweet while writing and i just NFDHBFHD THIS IS SO ACCURATELY HANGE IN THIS FIC LMAO

170 notes · View notes

vilco-silvik-week · 24 days ago

Text

Excited to announce our upcoming rare pair shipweek for everyone’s favorite crime lord and scientist duo. Have they ever met in canon? No, but only because the show would have been over so much sooner.

We do not accept nor condone the use of plagiarism, including the use of AI, whether in writing or art, nor is it welcome in the Vilco Nation server

Being a server member, while strongly advised, is not mandatory for this event. Our AO3 collection will be entirely open and unmoderated for everyone to post. We will be accepting late submissions, so fear not if you don’t have time to post everything you wanted to post!

If you are under the age of 18, you will not be able to create explicit content for the event but are otherwise welcome to participate

We are firm believers of “ship and let ship” as well as the kinktomato (https://fanlore.org/wiki/Kinktomato). We will not tolerate any discrimination and harassment in any forms whatsoever. This includes: queerphobia, homophobia, racism, content policing, hate speech, doxxing, shaming, etc, as well as hostility towards organisers and fellow participants.

The official tags for this year’s event on all social media are : #SILVIKWEEK #VILCOWEEK

Official AO3 Collection : Vilco/Silvik Week 2025

Since the event is a few weeks away, what can I do now?

Spread the word and the joy! We have decided to post the prompts early to give more time for people to get creative!

For questions or additional information

Our ask box is open here or at @blueberrymffn

To join the Vilco Nation discord

You can contact @vilconation

#silco #vilco #Silvik #viktor arcane #Arcane shipweek #SilvikWeek #VilcoWeek #arcane silco #arcane

108 notes · View notes

the-hexzone · 3 months ago

Text

Happy WIP Wednesday!

In honor of this special occasion and to show my appreciation for the many talented authors in our fandom, I’ve created a list of my favorite ongoing Arcane Jayvik fics as of April 2, 2025.

(Edit by @arcanegifs)

Post-Canon Stories

The Line is Covered in Jellyfish by Staroverlord (@yunuen)

Rated M | 6/10 Chapters | 65k+ words

Summary:

Jayce and Viktor survive the Hexcore, a blizzard, their own bodies, sharing a bed and all the things they’re too afraid to say. Slowly, they put themselves back together— piece by stubborn piece.

When Viktor finally asks why Jayce stayed behind inside the Anomaly with him, Jayce stares at him as though he’s supremely disappointed by the question— as if Viktor has betrayed his own brilliance by asking something so irredeemably stupid. “How could I not? We’re partners.”

Partners, Jayce calls them. Not for the first time, Viktor wonders: Partners in what?

Notes:

As much as I love the “Jayvik lands in a field of flowers” trope, I experienced a delightful level of schadenfreude when the arcane spat them out in the middle of bumfuck nowhere during a blizzard instead. Fighting to survive puts what transpired between them in the astral plane on hold, and everything left unsaid makes space for old insecurities and regrets that loom like the world’s biggest elephant in their one room dilapidated cabin. The resulting slowburn, wrought by avoidance warring with codependency and forced proximity, is exquisite torture for everyone involved—the readers especially. It’s also one of the funniest fics I’ve ever read.

***

motion on a circle by runesick (@runesick)

Rated M | 2/3 Chapters | 22k+ Words

Summary:

jayce and viktor make a vow to finish their work, together. the arcane has other plans.

(some exploration of whatever 'forever holding each other in the infinite embrace of the arcane' actually means)

Ekko’s face twists, looking around. From his expression, Viktor feels more confident that he didn’t somehow drop off while in transit. “Did we end up on a round-trip?”

“I… No, we would have noticed it coming to a stop,” Viktor says, his tone betraying his frustration too much to justify. He’s meant to be responsible here, responsible for himself and his student, regardless of their distance from campus. “Come, we have to try once more.”

“What happens if it doesn’t work?”

Viktor grimaces. “It will work.” He looks up at the ticket booth, cast-iron Piltie script molten into incomprehensible mud. “I’ll pay, c’mon.”

He hands his coins over and they smear with blood. Viktor checks his hands but there’s no cuts, no bleeding there. The cashier’s face twists, gold and ivory with no mouth to say ‘safe descent’ .

Notes:

I don’t think I’ve ever come across a piece of writing that perfectly captures the uncanny experience of dreams and nightmares in the way this fic does. The subtle terror of not-quite-right that grows, and grows, and GROWS as the narrative progresses is immensely compelling. I’m utterly thrilled by this darker interpretation of the infinite embrace of the arcane.

***

Dinner at Jericho’s by Avelera (@avelera)

Rated T | 4/6 Chapters | 14k+ Words

Summary:

It's been six years since the events of "Arcane", and Jayce and Viktor have spent those years traveling between dimensions on the Arcane's behalf, preventing the rise of Hextech. Now, they've finally been granted a break from their work and a chance to return to their home dimension to catch up with family and old friends. In which Jayce, Viktor, Caitlyn, and Vi go on a long-overdue double-date, and Viktor sees for the first time what happens when disaster duo Jayce & Vi are in the same room together.

“Oh no, I was afraid of this,” Caitlyn muttered.

Viktor frowned and glanced at her. “What is it?”

“I don’t know what it is, but whenever these two are together, their brains leak out their ears,” Caitlyn whispered. “I’ve found the best solution is just to clear a blast radius.”

Viktor stared. “Jayce? But… he’s a scientist, a man of reason!”

Caitlyn gave him a look. “Believe me, I know. But for some reason, none of that matters when these two are in a room together.”

Notes:

Our beloved characters are treated to a much needed night of light-hearted revelry after the events of Arcane put them through the ringer. Humorous fluff featuring bookstreet and their exasperated partners. Everyone is so happy and in love. This fic always puts a smile on my face.

***

Pygmalion by thats_a_secret (@twenty-qs)

Rated E | 7/? Chapters | 38k+ Words

Summary:

Jayce, in the Crucible. Viktor, in the Garden. And the Herald, in the worlds between.

They land in a field of flowers.

There is a version of the Herald who knows this place. Who has walked a thousand iterations of this field, in a thousand worlds and a thousand lifetimes. The same Herald who had carved that pattern into the blue crystal, knowing what it meant, knowing it would lead the keeper of his heart back to this place.

This Herald, the Herald of the right-here-and-now, knows only that he has found an unexpectedly soft landing.

Notes:

Beautifully written, dark, and bittersweet. The prose might as well be poetry. Each chapter is rich with detail in a way that every line feels like striking gold. It makes me want to grab a shovel and delve deeper. The narrative takes a shape not dissimilar from the wild rune—a web woven of poignant vignettes that offer kaleidoscopic views of the past, present, future, and spaces in between. I find somethig new with each re-read.

***

Capgras by wifidelis (@wi-fidelis)

Rated M | 10/? Chapters | 54k+ Words

Summary:

Jayce and Viktor are hurled out of the anomaly and dropped into the field where it all began. While it seems like the opportunity for a fresh start, Jayce's health rapidly begins to decline. In a desperate bid to save his partner, Viktor makes a series of shocking discoveries about Jayce's body and mental state... leading Viktor to believe that *his* Jayce is not what emerged from the Arcane with him.

Jayce, struggling with the effects of the Arcane on his mental state, also begins to wonder if he is himself anymore.

Through the haze, he finds Viktor, the sky folding to darkness and rippling into a multitude of stars behind him. Jayce begins to tremble in earnest, tears bending Viktor’s portrait amongst the cosmos.

“I didn’t fail you?” Jayce rasps.

“No,” Viktor breathes. “You succeeded.”

Notes:

A fic with all the painful, angsty details of what it means for Jayce and Viktor to survive the finale and return to physical forms. The ultimate sickfic. There is so much whump! Neither of them are okay, but Viktor is nonetheless foisted into the role of caretaker for a feverish, arcane-infected Jayce when they go on the run. I enjoy a lot of fics that heavily feature Viktor whump, but it’s really refreshing for Jayce to get a turn!

***

Canon!Universe AUs & What-Ifs

Progress Day by Avelera (@avelera)

Rated E | 2/4 Chapters | 11k+ Words

Summary:

It’s Progress Day, two years after Jayce and Viktor became partners, and the inaugural launch of the Hexgates is this year’s main attraction. Jayce and Viktor are the toast of the town and celebrating the best night of their lives when Viktor decides he’s ready to take the next step forward in their partnership.

Or: how to have the boy, how to lose him, and what happened after.

Viktor raised his glass towards the only person in the room who mattered. “There is, in truth, only one man to whom this night is owed. A man who… whose dream changed the course of my life forever. Jayce, if I had the chance to choose the path my life would take a thousand times over, I would always make the same choices that would have led me here, standing in this room with you tonight to make your dream a reality.”

Notes:

A canon compliant possibility of what Jayce and Viktor’s partnership entailed in the missing years between Act One and Act Two of the first season. The dramatic irony of impending heartbreak makes the present promise of intimacy all the more impactful.

***

Lies We Tell Ourselves by tenderwatches (@tenderwatches)

Rated E | 28/50 Chapters | 128k+

Summary:

In a city divided by power and wealth, Viktor returns to Piltover after years of exile—lungs failing and pride wounded—only to discover Jayce has rebuilt the very invention that drove them apart. As they reluctantly collaborate on synthetic Hextech crystals that promise revolutionary change, they uncover a dangerous connection between magic, ambition, and the toxic Gray choking Zaun's streets.

While rekindling their fractured partnership amidst scientific breakthroughs and political machinations, they confront the truths they've hidden from themselves and each other: desires long buried, sacrifices made in desperation, and the possibility that progress might come at too high a cost.

Some lies protect us, others destroy us—but the hardest lies to overcome are the ones we've been telling ourselves.

Four to nine months.

“Don’t let me run,” Viktor murmurs into the minuscule distance separating them, words barely audible once more. Jayce has to lean in to hear him, and he reinforces his gentle plea. “I… know myself. This will be difficult, and I will… try to retreat.”

Jayce kisses him again, softly, slowly, like he’s memorising the feeling. “I won’t,” he promises before he savours another kiss, letting their bodies come together again. Viktor fits against him as if he’s made for this space, somewhere between shaping the future and dreaming of possibility. When they part, he rests his forehead against Viktor’s, eyes closed. “Let me take you home.”

Notes:

A League of Legends/Arcane fusion. The Jayvik Divorce happens during the timeskip before they stabilize the crystals into gemstones. From there, dominoes topple one after the other, creating a world that is familiar yet also full of compelling story opportunities that went unexplored in canon. This is the reconciliation/slowburn fic to me.

***

Dress me in midnight, feast upon my bones by hexhomos (@hexhomos)

Rated E | 3/? Chapters | 34k+

Summary:

The rocket strikes through the heart. Reality collapses in less than five seconds.

Jayce rebuilds Viktor, little by little, piece by piece.

And if his partner comes back from the dead a little different, well... what's not to love? Jayce is a quick study. He can adjust himself into a suitable form. He pledged himself to this task a dozen years ago; he's in it for the long haul.

To put it bluntly: this is the one where Dr. Frankenstein runs away with his bride.

(Jayce follows Viktor down to the depths of Zaun, and amid the riots and war-banners, everything changes.)

He really thought they’d have more time. Jayce had assumed, no, believed, that all the accumulated years of sweat and labor would deliver him a reward of some kind. That the gods from realms above would smile kindly upon their accomplishments; that a miracle would happen. Viktor deserved as much. They were owed as much. (And in his heart of hearts, Jayce thought – I’d be buried in snow if it wasn’t for a miracle. I’ve seen it happen once. I’ve been saved once. It could happen again. I could repay my standing debt and make it happen one more time, just for him.)

Notes:

The gothic romance of it all is immaculate. This fic encapsulates the monstrous devotion of their partnership after Jayce revived Viktor with the Hexcore. They are both so unwell about each other. I’m eager to find out what happens next and dreading the consequences.

***

into perihelion by jasspurr (@jasspurr)

Rated E | 8/? Chapters | 48k+ Words

In which Viktor discovers that there is one thing worse than impulsively sleeping with your lab partner: doing it again.

And again. And again. And again.

Viktor knows that he needs to stop this. That he has exactly one chance left to stomp out the kindling before it takes flame and swallows him whole.

It should be so, so easy. All he has to do is walk away from the ledge.

But he can't. He can’t.

Notes:

This the second installment of basophobia, also known as Jayvik and Their Messy Situationship: The Series. The amount of pining and denial is off the charts! One might assume that sleeping together would remedy that—it doesn’t. It makes them worse. Exquisite emotional slow burn.

***

your teeth in my neck by b_o_i

Rated E | 22/23 Chapters | 201k+ Words

Summary:

In which Viktor is a sex worker, Jayce is one of his best clients, and they still manage to create hextech together. The rest is a little more complicated.

Councilor Jayce Talis is something of a running joke around here—the fact that he’s been coming here for years, since before he was anyone at all. A lot of the workers and regulars alike remember the stuttering academy student who stumbled his way in six years ago; the idea of that little asshole being a full-fledged councilor now is kind of hilarious. It’s also kind of infuriating, if you think about it too long.

Notes:

Over 200k+ words of plotty porn. This author is exceptional at writing emotional and physical intimacy. I always love when fics explore how certain changes to Viktor’s background might impact his political consciousness and core beliefs, and this story does exactly that. The evolution of Jayce and Viktor’s relationship from something transactional to partners of equal standing is a complicated, messy journey rife with political machinations and the growing social class disparities in Piltover and Zaun.

***

Alternate Timelines & Time Travel Fix-Its

In This New Skin by stillwatersounds

Rated M | 1/3 Chapters | 14k+ Words

Summary:

After the end of the world, Viktor and Jayce wake up back in the lab. Like none of it ever happened.

“We’re back,” Jayce is still saying, dulled behind the ringing in Viktor’s ears. “Before it all went wrong. Vik, this is incredible. Do you get what this means?”

It hits him slowly, bile rising in his stomach, what exactly it is Jayce is referring to. What it means for Viktor to be breathing. Inside his palms, he can still feel the stars ache.

Notes:

I’m obsessed with how this fic depicts Viktor struggling with his return to humanity and the difficult reality of second chances. This puts him at odds with Jayce’s ceaseless determination to fix things, and the resulting angst is marvelous.

***

Good Luck, Babe by Kosmos_Relic

Rated E | 23/? Chapters | 156k+ Words

Summary:

Post-Canon Fix it Timeline- Where Jayce can't let go how badly he messed up, Viktor needs a few reasons to break his cycle of withdrawing from others, and they both pretend they aren't the dumbest men in all of Piltover and Zaun combined.

He stares longingly at Viktor, the soft curve of hair around his ear, the twitch of his brow as he works through his confusion of Jayce knowing his name. But of course Jayce does. Knows his name. Knows how long he can sit before he's too stiff to walk. Knows his entire list of dreams to stop suffering of others- all of it blindsided because Jayce’s obsession with the arcane came and ruined everything good in him.

“How do you-”

“I’m sorry.” Jayce isn’t ashamed that his voice breaks, his body shaking with all the hurt of a different timeline, “I never meant- I only wanted to save you.”

Notes:

I love how the fandom took the idea of multiple timelines and ran with it! We have a feast of cakes, and this one is delectable. Post-canon Jayce winds up in a different timeline just as this world’s Viktor is about to seize his research and have him detained. Much to Viktor’s dismay, Jayce immediately abandons Hextech despite its clear potential. Jayce insists that they can help people and change the world through other means. This changes their partnership significantly, and a pre-timeskip passionate romance ensues. The two things I really enjoy about this fic are 1) the deviations between this timeline and Jayce’s native timeline that exist both in the periphery and main story and 2) a creative exploration of the arcane’s impact on Jayce and how it manifests.

***

Shake the Shadow by enby_chaos (@enby-chaos), ResidentHesitant (@crimewizards)

Rated T | 5/? Chapters | 26k+ Words

Summary:

After promising the old mage that he wouldn’t fail, Jayce is sent back to Piltover - ten minutes before his lab explodes. Knowing what he knows now, he can use that chance to change things - to stop his lab from exploding, yes, but to stop the hexcore's corruption before it can even start, too. With relationships to rebuild, a career to restart, and constant nightmares of the hexcorized world he barely escaped, Jayce has his work cut out for him.

Meanwhile, Vi wonders just how it is this Piltie knew her name.

“Sorry,” the topsider said, taking a sip of his drink. “It’s, uh– it’s been a weird day.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Powder finish her juice and hop off her barstool with a wave, going over to bother the lad with all the books. The topsider watched her go, his eyes following her to the fellow’s table and going wide when he saw the other student. He immediately busied himself with his drink. Vander laughed. “You know him?”

The topsider took a too-large gulp of his ale, gaze fixed on the counter.

“I, uh. I haven’t met him, yet.”

Notes:

My favorite part of this fic is its use of Outsider POV. As one might expect, fixing the world with time travel makes you act really fucking weird. Jayce is an anxiety-ridden mess. Viktor is intrigued.

***

No red roses on our graves by moondust88

Rated T | 13/35 Chapters | 54k+ Words

Summary:

The destruction of Hextech reverberates across every universe, but in this one, its collapse is absolute. Every fragment of its power detonates in a catastrophic chain reaction, and those caught too close to it pay the ultimate price. The Arcane stirs. Reality bends, fractures yawning open where once there was order. And through those cracks, two broken souls are torn from the wreckage of their own world and thrust into another.

Viktor and Jinx wake up in a city that already grieves them. Viktor learns that in the aftermath of the explosions Jayce was sentenced to lifetime in prison. Desperate to get his soulmate out against Piltover's verdict, he turns to the only person who could grant it: Silco.

Jinx survives against her will—again. She’s tired. Tired of fighting, tired of losing, tired of being dragged back from the edge. But she believes she owes it to Silco (on account of the murdering and all) to make his dream of Independent Zaun come true.

Her mind lurched, trying to put together an explanation, any explanation, but the pieces didn’t fit. They weren’t even part of the same puzzle.

She had died. He had transcended. She had woken up here. And surprise, surprise, so had he.

Maybe she had finally lost it. Her grip on reality—shaky at the best of times—had finally, irreversibly, snapped. Maybe she had never left the wreckage. Maybe her body was still burning, buried in the ruins of her own making. Maybe she had never woken up at all.

Then—a breath. A tremor. A voice, hoarse, struggling through the weight of its own disbelief.

“This—” Viktor rasped, fingers trembling against the ground. “This can’t be.”

Notes:

Jayvik but also features a lot of Jinx and Silco, which I’m 100% here for. There is a bittersweet comfort that’s intrinsic to this premise, and reading it is like listening to sad songs just to feel something. Post-canon Jinx reuniting with this universe’s Silco, who is grieving the unexpected loss of his Jinx, broke my heart in two before stitching it back together. Then there is post-canon Viktor’s desperation to save a version of Jayce whose dreams have gone up in flames for a second time, taking this world’s Viktor along with them. I’m so, so excited for these parallel plots to intersect as Viktor turns against Piltover and aligns himself with Silco for Jayce’s sake.

***

Genre Swap AUs

Oathbreaker by queercatfam (@lesbianherald)

Rated E | 2/10 Chapters | 28k+

Summary:

When loyal Piltovian knight Jayce Talis gets severely injured in a fall, he's rushed to the infirmary and stripped of his duties. While recovering, he develops an infatuation with the Royal Apothecary in charge of his care, Viktor. He soon learns that Viktor has a dangerous secret, one that may test Jayce's loyalties to his friends, his family, and the very kingdom he's sworn to.

Jayce takes a few deep breaths. He focuses on Viktor’s eyes. Searches for something warm. Tangible. Human. That beautiful hand. He hopes and hopes and hopes Viktor will let him take it. Uses so much effort to reach out for it. He lets out a little sigh when Viktor does. He stares at Viktor’s hand in his own. He thinks of one of the first things he said to him.

“Do you…” his heart starts stuttering in this strange, unnatural rhythm. “Do you hold hands with - with all your patients or just your favorites?”

Notes:

Please, please, please read this masterpiece right now. The fantasy world building is incredible, and I’m absolutely loving the various ways canon elements have been adapted to this setting. The story’s conflict being rooted in magic and mages is such a lovely ode to the origin of Hextech.

***

Glory, Golden Boy by cazimiz (@cazimiz)

Rated E | 20/29 Chapters | 80k+ Words

Summary:

Zombie Apocalypse AU - Mostly everything starts the same and then everything goes to shit on Progress Day

And all that Jayce could hear was the sound of his own breathing and the roaring of blood in his ears.

He stood there, both hands on his hammer where one face of it was still stuck in the gore.

In the blue glow of Hextech, Jayce could almost tell himself that it wasn’t human.

Notes:

A terrifying, action-packed translation of canon into a zombie apocalypse story. The narrative is propelled by Jayce’s growing desperation to reunite with Viktor after the outbreak on Progress Day. I really enjoy that this fic brings zombies to Piltover and Zaun rather than placing the characters in an established zombie-ridden setting. The exploration of shifting politics and power struggles in Zaun and Piltover under these dire circumstances is fascinating. There is also plenty of badassery to go around among the ensemble cast.

***

Me [28M] with my roommate of 1 year [31M], I’m worried I might be homophobic towards him? by ivypool (@lesbianivypool)

Rated E | 12/13 Chapters | 85k+ Words

Summary:

The one where jayce can't figure out why he cares so much about the guys his new roommate brings home... and doesn't realize he's fallen in love until he's completely and totally fucked.

"So this whole roommate thing. I just wanted to ask, like… what are you looking for? Should I totally leave you alone?” (God, please say no.) “Should we just be, like, cordial coworkers?” (Please, please, please say no.) “Or do you want to be more like… friends?”

Viktor snorted. It was a sound Jayce was starting to crave. His heart squeezed.

“Yes, Jayce.” Viktor stood, leaning on his cane. “I think we should be friends."

Notes:

A fic where Jayce has a bisexual awakening without eating raw lizards at the bottom of a ravine and being tormented by hallucinations in the fire. This delightful Modern AU is based on that one viral Reddit post about that guy realizing he has gay feelings for his roommate. I can totally see Jayce authoring that post because he doesn’t realize he’s in love with Viktor. Also, special shout-out to Rio being a pet axolotl!

***

That’s all Folks!

#wip wednesday #jayvik #jayvik fanfic #jayvik fanfic rec #jayce talis #viktor arcane

109 notes · View notes

narrators-journal · 7 months ago

Text

I always feel like somebody's watching me

This is a bit of a mess, but I hope it’s still a fun lil read. I don’t have much else to say, tbh. Just, enjoy some yandere-energy stano/stan content lol.

CW: Implied stalking and implied yandere behavior, that’s about it so far unless I missed something.

Energy drinks for the week, vitamins, tv dinners. I should be good to go for a while, at least. You mused as you looked over the stacks of Banquet brand microwavable meals and packs of energy drinks that you’d horde for your work week. Though, was it a healthy diet? Not really, and you were aware of that.

However, when someone spent nearly twelve hours a day six days a week hunched over a desk or with your eyes glued to a whiteboard, the last thing they would want to do when finally at home was cook and fuss over nutrition. Which was exactly what you felt about the idea, and that was why you stood in the frozen meal section of the grocery store that Friday. Now all I should need is some sandwich stuff, then I can go home and nap. You thought to yourself with a triumphant smile on your face.

Though, you stopped and turned around when you heard a familiar gentle drawl mixed in with the grocery store’s christmas music. “Hey! Aren’t you Xee’s old classmate?” Stanley Snyder was the source, of course. It was hard for you to not instantly recognize the tall man.

Back in your college days, you’d roomed with Xeno Wingfield to save on tuition costs and, as a result, met the silver-haired pretty boy he’d been friends with since childhood. And, while it had only been a handful of times when he got a day or two off from bootcamp, it was fairly rare for you to come across a 5’9 man with snow-colored hair, black-painted lips, and immaculate eyeliner in the frozen food aisle. “Xeno wingfield? Pompous ass who keeps dismembered frog parts in the fridge? If so, then yeah, and I take it you’re Stanley, right?” You asked with a small smile as the man approached. Which, let you drink in the changes he’d gone through in the years between meetings, like how his muscles now stretched the sleeves of his plain t-shirt, the silver dog tags that he now sported, and the twinkle of something new in his icy eyes. “Yeah, that’s him, and yep, that’s me. How’ve you been, darlin’?” He asked casually, only for your old roommate to appear from one of the aisles behind him.

Unlike Stanley Snyder, Xeno Houston Wingfield had almost not changed at all between college and now. His own pale hair was still kept back in a pompadour, and his eyes were still bottomless pits of cold that could only be matched by the depths of space itself. He still wore a long black coat over constant formalwear, and when he looked over to where you chatted with Stanley, he still oozed an aura of evil genius. “Hello again,” He offered with a simple nod to you, but left you no room to respond to either him or Stan, “Why are you talking to them? I turn my back for five seconds, and you bolted off.” He accused his old friend. “Oh, um, sorry-” Stan cut you off nonchalantly, unbothered by the scientist’s hostility-laced tone. “Relax, Xee, I’m just making conversation. We’d barely said hello, it’s not like we’re swapping humiliatin’ stories.” Before the duo swapped expressions and huffs in some telepathic conversation. What the fuck are these two on… “Oh, shit, um...y’know, I should actually go.” You said, which earned you the center of attention once more. “I-I have frozen food in my cart, I need to get home before it melts and go bad, y’know? So sorry if that’s abrupt, I almost forgot.” And you two still give me the creeps. “Ah, right, my bad. I forgot you just got off of work, I shouldn’t keep you.” Stanley hummed, and you just did your best to nod and hurry off to the cash register before your face visibly paled in fear.

The last thing you heard was Xeno’s bitter hiss of, “Why would you say that?! They didn’t need to know you know that.” As unconcerned with what you heard as he was back in college. Though, this time, you weren’t simply cursed with whatever the barely ethical experiment of the week was.

#dr. stone #Stano x reader #Stanley snyder x reader #Xeno Wingfield x reader #dcst #scenario #yandere #Yandere!Stanley Snyder #Yandere!Xeno Wingfield #x reader #Yandere!Stano #Stanley snyder #xeno houston wingfield

160 notes · View notes

piplup335 · 3 months ago

Text

Subspace x reader enemies to lovers!

oh my days I almost DIED just writing this thing

this was painful to write to the ending may seem quite rushed aAAAAAAA I’M SORRY

regardless, this is the last thing on the agenda! so just sit back and enjoy the fic :>

…I hope my blog is still alive enough for people to appreciate it…

credits to one of my friends on Discord for helping me with this!

⋯⇋ ૮(•͈⌔•͈)ა ⇌⋯

You loved participating in phights. It was your job and hobby and you really couldn't ask for a better life. The once-mundane days took a turn for the better once you joined the roster. Now you work alongside other Phighters as well as the Flipside duo to give the residents of the Inpherno some daily entertainment and to you, your daily income.

Your job was great, and the people you worked with were wonderful. Despite not knowing them because the majority came from other factions, they were still welcoming and hospitable to you, their new teammate. Sometimes. It depends on whether or not they were matched up against you for the day. Their teamwork with you was always impeccable and synchronisation was on-point. Still, one person was on the roster where harmonisation and unity could never be found in any of your books. No, instead of strategising and executing meticulously planned attacks, the both of you would fight over who gets the last hit. Even when the both of you worked together, you would still bicker with him like an old married couple.

It was Blackrock's infamous mad scientist, Subspace T. Mine.

You two could never agree on anything, be it which direction to ambush enemies from or what colour would look good on the other.

All the Phighters still remembered the latter. You and Subspace started an entire 30-minute argument debating that alone...

While waiting for your scheduled phight, you saw Subspace sitting on a bench and polishing one of his Biografts with a small cloth. As usual, to you, he was dressed like an absolute buffoon. The look on his face was one of tranquillity and care as he tended to his Biograft. So, you being you...you decided to ruin that moment for him.

"Oi, Subflop! Dressed like a walking fashion disaster again, huh? When will you switch that old Blackrock attire for something more stylish?"

Subspace looked up from his cleaning, his once peaceful and calm demeanour shattering. His face fell, and an annoyed groan escaped his lips.

"(Y/N), shut up!! It's not like you know any better to begin with!! You look like something from a sitcom during the 1900s, so you have no right to criticise me for my fashion sense!!"

"If I told you to shut up, your mouth would probably hurt from all that rot!"

"You little-"

As the both of you started bickering over another useless topic, Valk and Dom walked in to signal that the map was ready for the grounds of another phight...only to watch you and Subspace all up in each other's faces again. Valk watched on in mild shock and Dom just let out a weary sigh. By then, even the Flipside brothers were well aware and accustomed to the constant quarrels between the both of you.

"Looks like the phight's underway before it even started, huh...?"

After one long and tiring year, the Christmas season was here. Valk and Dom had the oh-so-wonderful idea of throwing a Christmas party to celebrate. They invited all the Phighters, including Subspace.

This time, you added extra precautions to ensure nothing could go wrong during that day. Not for you, at the very least. You could care less about what happened to Subspace. Although...recently, you've been feeling a little weird inside.

Long gone was your loathing for him. By now, you've accustomed yourself to the name-calling, all the teases and insults...but instead of feeling pure hatred towards him for the daily jabs, you felt warm inside. A sense of familiarity. It was almost affectionate, in a sense. It was as if, just for once in your life, you cared about what happened to him.

Your mind wandered to the events of what happened a few days ago. Of course, given the rivalry between the both of you, none of you would give up the opportunity to mock each other during the party. Hence, Subspace gave you a dare.

Dress in your usual Phighter outfit. Not a suit, not anything stupid like a carrot costume. Just you and the outfit you always wore while phighting.

Of course, who were you to say no? You accepted the dare despite the risk of standing out like a sore thumb and decided to go along. Then again, what’s the fun of a dare without a little self-implemented twist? This was a party, after all. It didn’t have as strict of a dress code as phights.

So, you got to work on your new fit. You added a few details here and there, such as a small bow tie and slightly more casual outerwear compared to your Phighter outfit. “It retains the same vibe,” you thought to yourself, “just a few new modifications here and there.”

After many days and nights, you finally finished your final touchups. It was elegant, yet casual. Your gear rested by your side, strapped on via your belt. You opted for a hat you liked, but never got to wear due to the nature of Phights. Gone were the usual armour pieces you wore, allowing you to opt for comfortable clothing. And you finished all that just in time too, for the party was two days away, on Saturday.

Now all you had to do was get through one more day of Subspace’s mockery and teasing.

He wasn't gonna make it easy for you, was he? Of course not...it was Subspace, after all. Since when has he done anything other than annoy you?

This phight, however, the both of you were on the same team. Despite the many rounds the both of you played together, it would not change the fact that no one was willing to give up the rivalry and work together.

As the round kicked off and the Phighters got at each other's throats, so did you and Subspace...

"Come on, Midspace! When are you gonna man up and go for some close combat?!"

You flashed him a cocky grin as you rushed at the Phighter whose health Subspace slowly whittled down and finished him off with your gear. All he could do was groan in annoyance as he got another kill assist...which he now had four of. You, on the other hand, had stolen four kills from Subspace.

"Leave me alone, (Y/n)!! Just let me get some kills for my reputation as the greatest scientist of Blackrock!!"

You cackled in his face, as you always did to taunt him. It had become a staple of your day to do anything in your power to annoy him. Unfortunately, you didn't watch your step and walked right into one of the bright blue target marks on the floor- Rocket's phinisher. A loud blast and a panicked screech from you was all it took for him to divert his attention from your ally, Coil, and face your injured self. You tried to plead with Coil for help, but he was already gone to heal Scythe, who had also been caught in Rocket's phinisher earlier.

It was now a deadly 1 on 1 between yourself and Rocket. You were severely wounded and below 50% HP. Rocket was still in good condition and could definitely hit you from where he stood. The outcome of the match was clear as day.

Furthermore, this phight was one of the Annihilate matches, and it was going to end soon. Your team was behind by three kills. The score was 24-27, and there were only forty-five seconds left on the clock.

Forty-five seconds. More than enough time for Rocket to finish you off.

A smug grin formed on Rocket's face as he launched himself up in the air. You could see his darkened silhouette in the bright daylight as he aimed his rocket launcher at you with his prosthetic arm.

"Time to blow stuff up!"

Rocket's projectiles caused damage spanning over a large area, and you knew that. With your reduced movement speed due to your injuries, you knew that you wouldn't be able to outrun the missile.

As you closed your eyes, waiting for the final blow and for the counter to increase itself by one, you felt a harsh jab to your side. You fell over, gasping in pain as you glanced up at your saviour who took most of the damage for you, leaving you at 15 HP instead.

Subspace. That cocky, arrogant Phighter who you hated. Or so you told yourself.

"Out of the way!! Witness MY GREATEST INVENTION!!"

Rocket tried to flee, but it was too late. He was rendered helpless as he was sucked into the swirling vortex created by the crystal. Before anyone could react, five shots were fired behind Rocket. At last...the tie was broken. 25-27.

The counter went up in your favour. 27-27. Scythe and Coil both had triumphant grins on their faces as they rushed back to the battlefield, Coil immediately connecting his coil to you to regenerate your lost HP.

"We got 'em good! Those suckers won't be respawning for the rest of the match!"

Your blood froze as you saw the enemy Slingshot turn the corner. The four of you had been found. Slingshot's eyes locked with yours. He noticed everything about you- the pained look in your eyes, the way you grasped your arm in pain...he knew you were vulnerable.

And if attacking you meant that he could have a final shot at settling the score despite putting himself in danger, he would do it. He dealt damage faster than you could heal, and Slingshot knew it.

He pulled back the band of his slingshot, aiming for a kill... and the win.

"Nice try- agh!"

A quick slash to his back caused him to release the projectile just before it fully charged. It struck you just as you reached 50 HP. 30 HP left...and twenty seconds on the clock.

Scythe rematerialised behind him, a faint teal mark hovering over his torso.

"Leaving so soon?"

Not even Slingshot's shoes could save him from the wrath of your three teammates. Scythe took advantage of her mark to land a good slash. Subspace finally hit one of his tripmines and managed to deal long-term poison damage. Even Coil could land a hit with his projectiles.

But Slingahot had tricks of his own. Just as Scythe was about to finish him off with one final cut to the back, he deftly stepped to the side.

Scythe and Coil were almost out of tricks.

As Slingshot hovered in midair and charged up for another shot, your blood went cold as you remembered one single fact.

Singshot's projectiles charged up two times faster when he was in midair.

Ten seconds remaining on the clock. Scythe missed her Chasing Flourish, and Coil missed his Combo Breaker. All their efforts to stop Scythe had failed, and you were going to die. You knew it.

Scythe and Coil were both out of tricks...but Subspace was not.

Slingshot was battered and bruised, but he had his eyes on you as he prepared to fire the finishing shot.

He did not have eyes for the tripmine to his right, however. One wrong step and the quiet beeping of the tripmine was replaced by an ear-piercing bang.

28-27. Three...two...one. The voice of the announcer over the speakers confirmed it- your team had secured victory.

As all ten Phighters piled into the back of Zuka's van, you glanced over at Subspace. He seemed to be deep in thought about something. His eyes seemed to be glancing at every detail on the ground, from the stray breadcrumbs to the neat ridges imprinted in the rubber flooring.

"What's on your mind, Subspace...?"

His one eye widened at your voice. He couldn't recall when was the last time you called him by his actual name instead of yet another insulting term.

"...nothing much, (Y/N). Just...forget it."

You could see his face flush slightly, but you ignored it and just stared out the van as it drove along the dirt pavement back to Crossroads. You were thinking back to the events of that phight. You thought about how Scythe and Coil showed up at the right time, about how you almost caused your team to lose and how Subspace saved you back there...wait.

Subspace saved you.

Instead of prioritising your downfall, he actually went out of his way to save you.

During previous matches, he wouldn't care if he caused the entire team to lose. Subspace didn't care if he had to respawn after that, he didn't care if anyone got injured...if he could do something that hindered you in any way, he would do it. But this time...he saved you.

"Why did you help me?" You asked. "You usually try your best to make sure I die, but you assisted me this time."

Subspace stayed silent for a moment, his eye seemingly fixed on a random spot on the ground. He looked up at you, his gaze averted.

"...I just wanted to win this time. Don't get too comfortable with it."

And just like that, he went back to staring at the ground like it was no big deal. Although this time, you could have sworn he was stealing small but subtle glances at you every now and then.

24th December. The day of the Christmas party, and another day you'd have to see that damned Subspace.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you couldn't help but feel proud of your handiwork. You managed to transform your usual Phighter outfit into something so stylish.

You paced around your room, thinking to yourself. Your mind wandered to Subspace daring you to show up in your Phighter outfit.

The more you pondered over that day, the more confused you were by your prior decision. Why did you agree to go along with it? Why were you still sticking with the dare?

"Well," you told yourself, "I like this outfit. It's something I'd wear on a daily basis, minus the armour plates. Yeah...that's why."

Your mind wandered to what Subspace would be wearing at the party. Would he be wearing a suit? Would he be going casual? It wasn't like the Flipside brothers organised a fancy ballroom party after all, it was just a celebratory party located in a rented villa. Perhaps Subspace would look nice? Wait...

...why did you care about how he would look?

Did you truly hate him? Or was it just something you told yourself on a regular basis just to mask how you really felt for him?

Ah, you had more issues to worry about anyway. The party would start in half an hour, after all. You added the final touches to your look and left the house only to be greeted by a blanket of snow coating the soft grass. There was a snowstorm the previous night, so everything looked like something out of Blackrock.

...Blackrock...you wondered. Did Subspace put on winter wear whenever he wasn't working? Did he look cute in it?

"No!" You reprimanded yourself. But the more you tried to deny it, the weaker your own rebuttals became.

You had fallen for the mad scientist after who knows how long.

It was almost expected, in a way. Although you hated each other, this also meant that the both of you knew each other well...but used that information against each other instead.

Maybe things would be different if the both of you stopped mocking each other. Maybe you should buy him his favourite coffee with some nice toppings...

You were deep in thought as you walked towards the bus stop. Your eyes were fixed on the soft snow, your mind already somewhere else, drifting away like the little snowflakes in the sky.

You also did not notice the person in front of you.

Bumping into the individual, you let out an "oof" as you fell to the floor with a soft thump. As the both of you met each other's eyes, you were filled with a mix of irritation and...infatuation...?

Subspace Tripmine was standing in front of you. In a suit.

He even had a small white rose tucked into his pocket like he was going to some romantic ball.

A small blush crept onto your cheeks as you took in his appearance. For once, you actually thought he looked quite attractive.

You didn't know it, but he did too.

Now instead of it being a dispute about who was the better Phighter, it was a silent war between the both of you as to who would confess first.

You saw the signs. So did Subspace. But denial can only last so long...

"Hey...you look nice."

Subspace was, for once, actually calm when he spoke to you. It was almost as if he was trying to act like a decent and civilised individual for once.

"Thanks...for once, you don't look too bad yourself, hm?"

"What do you mean?! When do I not look good?!"

"Every other time, Fartspace."

"You-!!"

Despite the romantic tension in the air, the both of you still found something to fight over...but soon enough, the chat was less of two rivals bickering... and more of two hopeless romantics trying to express their interest in the other in the most subtle way possible, but failing horribly at it.

Well, it was mostly you trying to get him to confess.

"If only we talked like this more often...maybe we'd be dating by now."

"Trying to swoon me, (Name)?"

"Swoon you? Please, since when did I ever try to swoon you, poison-tongue?"

Internally, Subspace was a blushing mess. He'd long since realised his true feelings for you, and he knew you were starting to catch on. He knew you just wanted to see him flustered, and it was working perfectly.

By the time the bus finally arrived, the both of you had faint pinkish tints on your cheeks. The both of you flirted with each other to the Banlands and back, and you almost felt...closer to him, in a sense. You did get to know him better. You knew his favourite pastry now, his type of coffee...heck, the both of you even managed to chat about life outside of Phights.

But despite the prior rivalry, you didn't want to use that information to annoy or mock him. No, you wanted to do something nice for him instead.

Maybe you'd ask if he'd like to go to the nearby cafe with you. Just the two of you. Perhaps even call it a date, just for funsies.

Unfortunately for the both of you, you both had to part ways at the villa. Subspace wanted to meet up with Hyperlaser for some discussions, and you had your friends you wanted to find.

"Well, guess this is it, Subspace. I'll see you around, yeah?"

"Sure thing...!! Don't think this means our rivalry is over, though!!"

Subspace waved at you as you walked off to find your friends. Hyperlaser stood behind Subspace, waiting for him to send you off.

"I'll see you later..."

His voice dropped to a whisper so only he could hear the next words that left his mouth.

"...my sweetest poison-berry."

⋯⇋ ૮(•͈⌔•͈)ა ⇌⋯

and that’s it for this fic! hope you all enjoyed, and do drop a request into my inbox or feedback if you have any!

thank you for reading! :D

#phighting #phighting!#phighting x reader #phighting subspace #subspace tripmine #subspace phighting #subspace x reader phighting #phighting subspace x reader #roblox #roblox phighting #phighting roblox #subspace x reader #marinated seasoned and grilled to perfection!

92 notes · View notes