#precision liquid handling

[microlitseo]

Liquid Handling in Drug Discovery: Enhancing Precision and Throughput

Liquid handling is a critical process in drug discovery, involving the accurate and efficient transfer of liquids between containers. The precision and throughput of liquid handling operations can significantly impact the success of drug discovery research. In this blog post, we will explore the importance of precision liquid handling in drug discovery and discuss some of the key technologies and techniques that are used to enhance precision and throughput. 

The Importance of Liquid Handling in Drug Discovery

Liquid handling is a fundamental aspect of drug discovery research, with applications ranging from compound screening and formulation to analysis and quality control. Accurate and precise liquid handling is essential for: 

Ensuring data reliability: Inconsistent liquid handling can lead to errors in experimental data, compromising the validity of research findings.

Improving efficiency: Efficient liquid handling techniques can accelerate the drug discovery process and reduce costs.

Enhancing reproducibility: Consistent liquid handling practices are crucial for ensuring reproducibility of experimental results.

Liquid Handling Technologies

A variety of liquid handling systems are available to researchers, each with its own advantages and limitations. Some of the most commonly used technologies include:

Manual pipettes: While still widely used, manual pipettes can be time-consuming and prone to human error.

Electronic pipettes: Automated pipetting systems offer improved accuracy and precision compared to manual pipettes, as well as features such as adjustable pipetting speeds and programmable protocols.

Liquid handling workstations: Automated liquid handling workstations can significantly increase throughput and reduce the risk of human error. These systems can be programmed to perform complex liquid handling tasks, such as serial dilutions, transfers, and aliquoting.

Techniques for Enhancing Precision and Throughput

In addition to selecting the appropriate liquid handling technology, researchers can also employ a number of techniques to enhance precision and throughput:

Tip calibration: Regular calibration of pipette tips is essential for ensuring accurate liquid handling.

Liquid handling robotics: Automated liquid handling robots can be used to perform repetitive tasks with high precision and speed.

Miniaturization: Reducing the volume of liquid handled can improve efficiency and reduce costs.

Microfluidics: Microfluidic devices can enable high-throughput liquid handling with minimal sample volumes.

Conclusion

Liquid handling is a critical process in drug discovery that requires precision, accuracy, and efficiency. By selecting the appropriate technologies and techniques, researchers can enhance the quality and speed of their work, ultimately accelerating the development of new drugs.

[bear-yawns]

　𝗢𝗙 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗚 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘.　kimi antonelli · #12

　　　kimi has been trying to get your attention for years, frustrated at the fact that you only seem to recognize your brother's race results. is he really that invisible to you?

genres : fluff ... slight enemies to lovers ... reader is ollie's sister ... kimi antonelli x fem!reader.　request : anon for kimi + "did i... did i kiss you last night? i can't remember." for the 100 event　word count : 2.1k.　warnings : alcohol consumption (both reader and kimi get drunk) ... good old liquid courage helping reader out (could be read as underage drinking depending on the laws, but in australia and italy its both 18 so let's say it's not underage drinking lmao).　 note : i started writing this ages ago like literally right after australia and it's taken me this long to revisit the fic and finally finish it </3 but it's here now so yay!!　　　( masterlist )　( taglist )

Kimi woke up with a buzzing headache. He had to attribute it to the alcohol consumed the night before while celebrating his race result in Melbourne. Twelve points scored on debut. It was certainly an astounding feat. Even now, articles were still being released praising the performance of the eighteen year old. Kimi couldn’t be happier. With a race as unpredictable as that to start out the season, any driver would just be happy to finish it without crashing. Almost getting a podium felt amazing.

Even with the pain burning across his forehead and slight ringing in his ear, Kimi couldn’t help but smile as soon as he woke up. Simply put, yesterday had been everything he could’ve dreamed of. There was still so much more to work towards, but just for now, he felt totally weightless, like he was floating through the clouds. Nothing could touch him. Nothing could bring him down from this high. For once, Kimi felt on top of the world.

That was, until it all came crashing down as soon as his eyes fell on you.

So much for nothing being able to bring him down from his high.

Anyone who had ever seen you and Kimi in the same room knew that you didn’t quite get along well. It wasn’t extreme hatred or anything, but you had always gotten on each other's nerves since you were little. Worst of all, you just couldn’t seem to stay clear of the other. 

Being Ollie’s sister, you were always there at races in Prema and even now in F1 as well. Kimi could not evade you. He saw your face everywhere.

He got along well with Ollie, but he often wondered how you could even be related to him. You were so different. Ollie was hardworking and precise while you always seemed laidback without a care in the world.

It didn’t stop you from being put together. Somehow, you were always effortless with whatever you did. Kimi never knew if you were trying hard or if everything just came naturally. The public loved to plaster the words prodigy next to your name. As someone who had been called a prodigy himself for many years, maybe there was something about you that intimidated him.

Perhaps he felt threatened by you— by your seeming perfection throughout every challenge. He knew how much he truly struggled to live up to the expectations set for him; how filling a seat that used to belong to Lewis Hamilton was pressure he wasn’t ready for. Until the race in Melbourne yesterday he was so sure he would crack under it all as soon as he got into the car. 

Some days he felt that maybe he just wished he was a little more like you. You were in the same situation at times; both of you had lots of expectations thrown at you, and endless pressure to perform under the hardest circumstances. Maybe he wasn’t made to handle the pressure. He didn’t want to find himself crumbling under it all when someone like you would surely shine. 

Besides your connection to Ollie, you had no real spot in the world of Motorsport. You didn’t drive, nor were you interested in engineering or strategics. Yet whenever you were outside of your own world, you found your way into Kimi’s. You were always there at races— often one of the first faces he saw when he stepped out of his car. He didn’t know why his eyes always seemed to find yours before anyone else's, or why he couldn’t get his brain to stop being annoyed whenever he did see you in the heart of the crowd. He felt relieved when you missed a race, as if it was finally a time for him to relax and not care about the result. But then the obvious questions arose in his brain. 

Why did he care about you being there? Why did he hate to see you cheer so proudly for your brother? Why did it sting when you didn’t cheer him on the same way?

But those questions were all old in his mind; all had their chance to linger for months and drive him slowly mad when he realized he wasn’t ready to face the answer. The main question that plagued Kimi’s headache-stricken brain right now was how the hell you had ended up falling asleep in his arms. 

Your head lay against his bicep, effectively trapping him. There was no way he could get up without disturbing your sleep, and for some weird reason a part of him was screaming to let you continue dozing. So he did. He lay completely still, eyes tracing the outline of your figure, quieting his breaths that seemed deafening against the silence of the room, as if they too might wake you up.

You were still in the outfit you wore the night before to celebrate the first race of the season, cheering on your brother of course. And even though your hair was a bit messy and your face bare of any makeup, you looked perfect in Kimi’s eyes. So full of life even though you were fast asleep. So comfortably situated in his arms as if you were meant to be held by them, even though this was certainly the first time he had been this close to you. 

The moment should’ve been peaceful, but to Kimi, it was anything but. His thoughts were racing faster than his car could go on track and he gulped as denied feelings he had kept down for so long floated up again. He tried to press them down once more, hide them for a while longer. Once you woke up he could make sure you pretended none of this ever happened and life would go back to normal. But he wasn’t sure he could do that— wasn’t sure that reality would be one he was able to accept. 

As his headache cleared and the events of the previous night settled in his memory a bit more intelligibly, he remembered exactly how he had gotten here in this bed with you securely in his arms. 

He had been a bit tipsy. Not fully drunk, but definitely enough to not think quite clearly. And you had been overconfident in finding yourself in places you shouldn’t have been. Such as, attached to Kimi’s arm; lips finding their way onto his. 

At least, he was nearly sure that had happened. He vaguely remembered the taste of tart cherry on your lips that was likely from whatever you had been drinking during the party. And you must have refused to leave his side to go back to your own hotel room to have ended up in his arms the entire night. 

And at that realization of his, your eyes fluttered open. You stared at him for a second, first in shock, and then in realization. You gasped and sat up straight, finally letting Kimi relax the muscles he had tensed to keep still.  

“Did I… did I kiss you last night? I can’t remember.”

Kimi’s breath hitched. So he wasn’t just making that part of the night up. His silence was enough of an answer for your question. 

“I’m sorry. I must’ve been more drunk than I realized,” you whispered in embarrassment, slipping a bit further away from Kimi once you realized just how close you had been lying to him. He bit back the words on his tongue that wanted to tell you to stay where you were, that he didn’t mind the closeness. 

“It’s fine. It was just one kiss,” Kimi assured quietly. 

“Are you sure it’s fine? You don’t sound sure,” you said pointedly. And you would be right about that. Kimi really wasn’t sure it was fine; not about the kiss, but how he wished it would happen again. How he wished it wasn’t just one kiss. How he wished that it hadn’t just been a drunken mistake on your part. Was it fine that he felt this way?

Kimi took a breath, “Why did you kiss me?” 

You were hesitant to answer. Some anxious part of you didn’t want him to know how long you had wanted to kiss him before this; how many months you had spent harbouring a secret crush on him. You went with the half truth. 

“I guess I just wanted to congratulate you on your race result. Your drive was incredible yesterday.” 

Kimi could tell that wasn’t the entire reason.

“You never seemed to care before now. You only ever celebrated Ollie’s achievements, even when I scored higher than him,” Kimi reminded you, sounding a bit hurt even though he didn’t mean for it to come across that way. “Has it changed now that I made it into F1?” 

“Ollie’s my brother—” 

“So I have to become family just to get you to cheer for me?” 

You sighed, “I didn’t mean it like that. I was happy for you before this race. In all of F2 I did want you to succeed as well,” you defended, explaining the situation you hoped you wouldn’t have to touch on. Your feelings around Kimi were complicated. 

“If you were happy for me, why did you never show it? I thought you hated me all this time because you never spared me more than a glance. I tried so hard to get your attention at the beginning and prove that I was an amazing driver like they all said I was, just for you to not even look at me. I was happy whenever you weren’t at a race cause it felt like I could finally breathe and drive just for the team without you on my mind for once.” Kimi was rambling at this point, his voice frustrated but earnest and still somewhat soft. Even if he was upset with you, he couldn’t raise his voice. And before he realized it, he had spilled much more than he ever meant to. He went quiet when he realized your eyes lingering on him, observing him so carefully. 

“All this time, you wanted my attention?” you asked. 

“It was all I wanted.”

You let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob, covering your face with your hands in disbelief at the truth. It was comical, really, just how badly you both had misjudged each other. 

“So all this time… you were trying to impress me? And I was trying to avoid you because I thought it would be easier than getting close to you,” your voice got quieter as you trailed off. “I knew I could never stay friends with you. I’ve liked you for so long. That’s why I kissed you last night, Kimi,” you confessed, nervous but somewhat at peace with how everything was coming to light. It was nice to not have to hide it anymore. Even if he rejected you immediately, you would be at peace with it.

Kimi went quiet at your admission. You watched his adam’s apple bob down in a rushed swallow, his eyes darting away from your face as heat crept up his neck. You looked down at your hands, nestled in your lap above the covers. Your fingertips fiddled with the duvet on the bed, picking at the soft fabric absent-mindedly.

“So… what happens now?” he asked. Your eyes met his— those golden brown irises that always stuck in your mind, taunting you, teasing you, torturing you.

You took a breath, “I’m not drunk anymore, so there can be no excuses this time. If I kissed you again right now would you—”

You never got the chance to finish your question, much less prepare for the suddenness in which Kimi’s lips found their place on yours. With your mind clear of the alcohol and the atmosphere being the complete opposite of last night, you allowed yourself to truly enjoy the feeling, knowing it would stick in your mind forever. You could barely recall what the kiss last night felt like, but you were sure it couldn’t hold a candle to the tenderness with which Kimi kissed you now.

His hand on your jaw, thumb ever so lightly stroking your skin to the same rhythm his lips danced on yours to. His patience was contrasted with your eagerness as your fingers laced through his hair, pulling him closer to you, deepening the kiss in whatever way you could.

At that moment it felt like nothing else mattered. Not the countless headlines and articles about Kimi’s incredible debut, not the next designer brand deal you would shoot for, not even the possible aftermath of you and Kimi becoming a thing. You didn’t care about how your brother would react or if he would approve or not. It wasn’t his place to butt in with an opinion either way. You knew from the way that Kimi kissed you that he was yours now, no matter what anyone said. Nothing could make you happier than that realization. 

Perhaps it wasn’t just Kimi floating on cloud nine, for there seemed to be another result even more satisfying than finishing P4.

kimi taglist: @divierses,, @lxvemaze,, @revelauver

[rinskazuu]

→ half asleep, wishing i still had you ⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

synopsis. ꨄ︎ weeks had passed since your breakup with the bllk men. it seems they can no longer handle your absence and decide to drink away their sorrow. it turns out that liquor is capable of bringing out the emotions they've carefully concealed, so with the liquid courage they've gathered, they decide to break their silence.

featuring. ꨄ︎ fem!reader x sae, kaiser, otoya, karasu (separate)

includes. ꨄ︎ post relationship, angst, happy ending, alcohol consumption, pining, yearning, begging, aged up!characters to legal drinking age (kaiser is already of drinking age in germany), characters might be a teensy bit ooc (not sorry), not fully proofread

notes. ꨄ︎ i was going to add yukimiya, aiku, and ness but this has been sitting in my drafts for weeks and i really didn't have it in me to do any more.

♪ track. ꨄ︎ your shirt by chelsea cutler

ITOSHI SAE ⋆｡°✩

sae isn’t the type of man to drink casually. sure, a celebratory drink here and there wouldn’t hurt, but even then, he would never leave himself in a vulnerable position.

sae is a precise and meticulous man, measuring his every sip, cautious not to go over his limit. yet, him gulping more than his usual was a direct result of his current state. i mean, sure, he knew the breakup would sting, but not this much. not to the point where he felt his entire being would shatter if he breathed wrong.

and that’s how life currently felt for him. like every single breath was solely to counter his existence—like his very presence was to appease you. and sae was not the type of man to put somebody else first.

the breakup was primarily sae’s fault, and he knew it. he didn’t have to see the disappointment on your face or the frustration in your teary eyes to know it. despite dating someone famous, you absolutely despised the publicity surrounding you; the attention, the lights, the rumors. so when he brushed off your concerns, feeling angry was more than an understatement. aside from the paparazzi, sae was cold. it wasn't to the extent of how he treated everybody else, but it shouldn't have been how he acted toward you. he was cold to where you would be excited and he would still have that look of indifference and boredom etched all over his face—as if he was saying, “this isn’t worth my time.” while it’s true sae was a loving and attentive boyfriend, those traits had its limits, and you were simply over it.

sae called when he knew you would be relaxing after a long, hard day worth of work, usually indulging in a book or playing a game. you were suspicious but picked up anyway. if anybody asked, you were not picking up because you missed him. surely not.

“come home,” he croaks immediately after you pick up. you were taken aback to say the least. he didn’t even bother to greet you, let alone attempt to make small talk, like asking you how your job was or how your parents were doing. but then again, itoshi sae had no space for unnecessary words or actions.

“i’m sorry?” was all you managed to utter out, shock still lingering in your system. a sigh was let out on the other end of the line. as you were shuffling and ordering your emotions, sae was picking at his supposed “genius” brain to see how exactly he was supposed to win you back. it was a miracle he won you over in the first place, considering his knowledge outside of football—or more accurately, the lack of.

he had missed your presence; seeing your face in the crowd, coming home to your sweet fragrance, holding your hand during even the most mundane everyday tasks, having you in his arms as he drifted to sleep, and everything. what was he supposed to say to convince you that he loves you?

itoshi sae is not the type of man for big gestures or fancy words. he won’t be the one to serenade you or put thought into a romantic poem, and you were more than okay with it, but you refused to lay down and take his disregard for your concerns like a good dog.

after a long stretch of silence, sae finally gathers his thoughts. “i want you to come home,” he repeats, a slight slur evident in his voice. “i want you to understand how apologetic i am. i should’ve listened to your concerns, and i should’ve protected your feelings better.”

“i appreciate your apologies, itoshi, but i think it’s best to stay on different paths.”

sae winces at the usage of his last name. to the world, he is itoshi. he is the prodigious elder brother of the itoshi family; he’s the calculating, genius soccer player, but to you he was just sae. he didn’t have to control his every move as if one wrong step would result in all his hard work falling apart. to you, he could fall apart in your arms and you would still love him.

“sae,” he corrects. “i’m not itoshi to you. regardless of what you might think, i’ll always be sae to you.”

his gaze directs up to the roof of his car, his seat cranked all the way back as his free hand grabbed the canned beer; an accurate representation of exactly what he was feeling—disappointed and bitter. it’s as if sae was purposely torturing himself for letting you go.

“i don’t know what to say,” you reply honestly, twiddling your fingers as you stare at the cover of your book, the words blurring as you zone out.

“i love you, cariño.” your heart stops for a moment. the way his lips utter the pet name so softly—like you would fade away from his life if he said it any differently—causes a hitch in your heart. “from this day forward, i will listen to you more honestly. not because i have to, but because i want to.”

your lips part, partly at his heartfelt confession—where his voice wasn’t devoid of emotion for once—and the other part because you were surprised. sae is opening up to you, even with the idea of rejection lingering in his mind, unlike the itoshi sae you knew who doesn’t toy with intentions that aren’t going to guarantee him success.

“i’m sorry i let you down. i’m sorry i allowed you to feel like i didn’t care. i’m most sorry that you didn’t feel the love that i felt for you. please, amor. i feel like my heart is going to jump out of my chest and throw itself into a fire.”

at last, you found your voice and answered him honestly. “i miss you, sae. i love you. i want you to treat me the way i want, but i can't just take your words at face value.” sae understands fully. you made it clear that actions were louder than words, and he is going to fulfill that.

“i know, amor. i just need you to understand that it’s you or nobody. you’re going to be the woman i marry,” he states. it wasn’t a halfhearted swear; he pledged it. “now, please. let me in at least. let me see you again.”

you open the door to a sluggish sae, reeking of beer. despite your dislike for it, you pulled him in for a long awaited hug on both ends. of course, the two of you were a long way from how you were again, but for now, this is perfect. for now, you’re okay with just holding him until the two of you fell asleep.

KAISER MICHAEL ⋆｡°✩

kaiser loathed alcohol. it reminded him of the helplessness and weakness he felt whenever he came home to his drunk father, fists curled up into balls, and angry about whatever it was that upset him that day. and yet, here he was, downing the whiskey like he was held at gunpoint.

here he was, turning out to be the man he detested. never having laid hands on you, kaiser still managed to hurt you, and in turn fucked up the only relationship he ever cared for. you never saw him as dollar signs, only as the broken shell of a man that he wanted to be. you had the patience to love, help, and improve him for his sake, and somehow, he broke you instead.

kaiser knew better than anyone how hurtful words could be, but when push came to shove, he chose to close himself off in fear of what you might think of him. contrary to his image, he was embarrassed to show you just how shameful he is. he could never understand how you were capable of loving him—loving the little boy who never got over his mother leaving him alone with the father who beat him senseless. he never understood how it was possible to still love someone who was never loved.

at first, kaiser was angry. you leaving him? how dare you?! how dare you fall into the same crowd of everybody else in his life; promising him a happy ending and then leaving when it got too hard? but then he came to the realization that you left because he couldn’t step up to be the man he swore to be.

kaiser didn’t bother to call or even text. his entire body was on fire, and he was determined to see you in person rather than speaking to you through a phone. so as you were preparing to snuggle into your bed—and totally not with the unicorn plushie he bought you—you’re suddenly startled by the sound of frantic knocks.

your immediate reaction was to stay in your room—a straight response to those horror movies you forced yourself to watch with kaiser. but the knocks never stopped. they grew more erratic and panicked.

the moment you open the door, you’re greeted with a visibly exhausted kaiser; blond hair a tousled mess, lips swollen from biting, and blue eyes dull—which was massively different from your kaiser.

you stand frozen in front of him, unable to react or even speak, so he takes the initiative. “i’m sorry,” is the first thing kaiser mutters, quiet but loud enough for it to send a shock wave down your spine. kaiser, the emperor, is apologizing.

“what?” his eyes turn down, a clear sign that he was embarrassed. nonetheless, kaiser couldn’t care less right now. all he wanted in that moment was to cease his hopelessness and earn your love back.

“the man i am—was—isn’t somebody i’m proud of. that man hurt you; me, i hurt you,” he pauses, taking a deep breath to collect his thoughts, because frankly, he didn’t expect you to actually open the door (despite his relentless efforts). “i-i’m not good at this. forgive me, mein liebling.”

on the other hand, you’re still motionless; hand gripping the door, heart pounding, and dozens of different emotions invading your mind. “kaiser, i don’t think we should do this,” you finally whisk up the courage to say. despite still loving him with your entire being, you made it impossibly clear that you were no longer going to love him at the expense of yourself.

“wait. just hear me out, okay?” he whispers, his hand finding its way to your door, not pushing but hoping to be heard. “i didn’t know that loving something—someone—could feel so rewarding. all i know how to do is take and break, and in spite of all your attempts to see me, i pushed you away. for that, i don’t think i could ever forgive myself. you make me feel human, mein liebling, and i despise that, because i have built this monster out of malice towards the man i resent. but i also know that if i let you go here and not shove my past away for you, i wouldn’t know how to live with just myself.”

you’re stunned because despite kaiser admitting that he didn’t know how to get his feelings through to you, he was very much capable of doing just that. his message tugs at your heartstrings; after so long of rotting as you waited for him to open up, you finally get to hear the words that stemmed from his heart.

“i’m not asking you to forgive me right away, sweetheart. you know i’m a man of patience, and even though it’s killing me to wait, i’ll bide my time for as long as you want me to, because i love you. i love you so much i’d defy every rule that defines me just to have you again.” discounting the fact that this was a very big and vulnerable moment for him, the shine in kaiser’s warm blue eyes return.

you heave out a sigh. knowing that this may very well end poorly, you still wanted to give it a try. you understand kaiser’s feelings are rooted in his troublesome childhood and you want to help him, because you love him just as much as he does you. “come in, mikka,” you reply in a whisper, tugging lightly at his sleeves.

the sound of his nickname rolling off your tongue warms kaiser’s heart. he’s aware now that you don’t hate him like the little voice at the back of his head keeps telling him. you still care for him; you still love him.

kaiser huffs out a long awaited breath of relief, his heart rapidly beating against his chest. you wrap your arms around him, inhaling his intoxicating scent along with the whiskey, which is evenly stimulating. he plants a kiss atop your head, silently promising that he would do better.

OTOYA EITA ⋆｡°✩

otoya is inherently a free spirit who does anything and everything based on his own whims. that goes for everything in his life, including the amount of alcohol he was consuming.

otoya, opposite of what the media claims, is immensely loyal to you, which came to a shock to even himself. as much as he disrelished being tied down, he couldn’t even bear the thought of another woman, let alone acting on any impulses to leave. regardless of his problematic past, he willingly devoted himself to you wholeheartedly, but it still doesn't erase the very fact of what he had done; what he was capable of.

he understood the limitations of your understanding and patience when it came to his past. in fact, he was grateful you stayed as long as you did. just the thought of you brought him a sense of humility that he surprisingly liked. needless to say, otoya was still devastated when you expressed your desire to leave. he didn’t stop you—as selfish as he is, he couldn’t. not when he knew that it would permanently destroy your relationship if he pushed you any further. then life changed for the worst—just like that. he saw it coming but he didn’t expect it to be as anguishing as it was. unfortunately, it didn’t seem like otoya cared much for your discomfort any time somebody would bring up another girl he messed with; whether it be a reporter, his friends, or his teammates. regardless of your longstanding tolerance, you just couldn’t endure the thought of coming home one day to find him in bed with another woman. so you broke things off.

it felt like otoya was constantly drowning, as if the thought of you—or lack thereof—was physically pushing on his heart. every breath was a reminder that this was his karma. this was the so called 'consequences,' that everybody spoke of. everything in his apartment reminded him of you—of what he had, what he couldn’t be strong enough to handle.

otoya contemplated going to your home, but the better part of him knew you were just going to slam the door in his face—as he rightfully deserves. then he thought of calling. he desperately wanted to call, to hear your voice, but in the end he was too ashamed to do it. his finger hovered over the call button for many long, stretched out minutes before deciding against it.

so he opted to text you. it was safe, even if it went against his usual do-what-you-please attitude. you were staggered to find a text from your ex boyfriend looming on your phone after your shift. even more confusing, it was a jumbled mess full of typos and nonsense. you kept asking him what he meant and in the end, just made the choice to call him.

when otoya sees your name flashing on his screen, he pauses. with an uncharacteristically anxiousness building up in his body, he hesitates to answer. but he can’t withstand another day without hearing the soft and gentle tone of your voice.

the two of you exchange greetings before you ask, “what did you mean in your text? i’m not understanding any of it.”

his voice hitches before responding, “i miss you. i hate that i ruined this. even though i’ve ruined relationships many times, you weren’t meant to be one of them.” he’s straightforward, not giving you a chance to even process the first part before continuing. “i know my actions—or actually, the absence of it—warranted this, but i refuse to spend another day without you.”

to say you are baffled is an understatement. you knew about otoya’s playboy personality, and you knew it was unlikely for him to settle down, so hearing this not only affirmed your feelings, but also emphasized his love for you. there was no point in your relationship that he had given you a reason to doubt his loyalty, besides not respecting your boundaries about his past, and you were suddenly getting a sense of clarity out of it.

“you’re not the type of person to settle down, otoya,” you reply accompanied by a sigh. even so, you still weren’t completely sure if you should trust his words.

“i know. and i’m sorry. i should’ve started with i’m sorry. listen, i’m not used to having someone to put before myself. as much as it goes against who i am as a person, i don’t hate it because you’re part of who i am now. you’re what i look forward to during every part of my day, and if it means i get to see you and spend every day with you, then yeah, i would gladly tie myself down. i love you and that’s never going to change.” otoya, who had downed just about enough to pass him out, is suddenly sobered. this was the first time he’d ever said i love you, and it felt amazing.

hearing his confession sent your heart beating so fast you were nearly convinced you were going into cardiac arrest. his voice ringing out of your device snaps you back into reality. “i. love. you. i love you and nobody else. i can’t love anybody else. you’ve officially ruined women for me. if it’s not you, nobody else is going to ever make me feel this way again. it’s just not possible.”

“otoya…” you start, unable to find the right words to reciprocate.

you hear the strong inhale of breath he takes on the other end. “eita,” he corrects. “your eita, remember?”

you let out a breath, a chuckle following after. “yes. you’re right. but this doesn’t mean we’re okay again.”

otoya’s heart pounds against his chest. he knows. “i’m aware. i know we’ve got a long way ahead, and i’m going to prove to you that i’m the right choice.” a smile graces your lips at this until you realize the slur in his voice.

“have you been drinking?” you ask cautiously, much familiar with his habits of doing things based on the context of his surroundings.

he admits sheepishly, “yes. it doesn’t help, but it gave me the courage to text you at the very least.” you roll your eyes at his statement, simply amused.

“you texted me a string of random letters. how am i supposed to decipher that?” you question.

given his disheveled state, otoya was pretty satisfied with the outcome of this. he makes a silent promise that he wouldn’t drink again unless given permission as to appease you. but still, he doesn’t regret it. currently, he’s content. everything in the world feels just about right.

“i’m going to bed if you care to join me,” you say, piquing his undivided attention. does he? of course he does!

otoya’s green eyes light up. “are you kidding? i’d be crazy if i said no.”

“okay. we’ve got things to work on and talk through, but for now, i think we did an okay job,” you say in response, laughing at his. “and eita.”

“yes, pretty?”

“i love you.”

KARASU TABITO ⋆｡°✩

karasu is very particular and self-disciplined, rarely consuming any alcohol as it leaves him in an unguarded position, which is a massive disdain. when he does allow himself to drink, he's cautious with the amount he's ingesting; still wary of his surroundings.

as opposed to karasu's attitude toward particular individuals, he was incredibly inferior toward you, always nitpicking his own actions, and holding you on a high pedestal. while he praised and cherished even the ground you walked on, it didn't take long for you to grow exhausted of his constant criticism against others he deemed lower than him. he generally focused too much on other people's ethics.

each insult went hand in hand with the very real belief that he was clearly better. karasu didn't need to see the dismay in your usually sparkly eyes to know he was losing you. and yet, when it mattered the most, he couldn't better himself for you.

life was unbearable and nothing could take him out of this state. karasu—as he does with everything—overanalyzes every detail of your relationship, examining your exact words methodically over and over until he swore his body would simply explode without your existence in his life. a small fire lit inside of him; an ugly, burning rage that was tearing him inside out. a blazing rage that he built against himself. he was hyperaware of his bad habit of scrutinizing others, and he's trying to work it out, now more than ever.

as you exited your work place, you could spot karasu's figure in the distance. perhaps it was your exhaustion after a long day, or the hazy november air clouding your view, but you couldn't help but submit to the pull of curiousity. cautious, you took a step. and another. and then another until you could see his face excruciatingly clear.

eyebags decorated his face, his pursed lips were tucked beneath the warmth of his scarf, and his physique was slumped. you stand halted just a couple feet away, his deep blue eyes boring into yours. karasu leans off his car and takes slow and steady steps in your direction.

you clear your throat seeing him stride your way. "what brings you here, karasu?" his eyes widen just the smallest amount, his step faltering the slightest at the mention of his family name. it's not very noticeable to the public's eye, but to you—who knows him like the back of your hand—it was clear. it was a sign of karasu's image falling apart at your feet.

"i came to see ya," he says casually. except none of this is casual. him showing up at your work place the exact minute he knew you were leaving wasn't casual. him appearing to pick you up like it was routine was not casual.

you blink at him, confusion written all over your face. "why?" slips past your trembling lips.

"because i miss you. i miss ya in my bed, snugglin' in my arms, in my life. i miss everything about life when i had ya." karasu is straightforward, enunciating every word with a breath of confidence. his eyes hold a cool fire that feels like it'll burn you if you kept staring.

you bite in your lip in contemplation. "i'm not so sure about us anymore," you admit in a mutter. "i don't know if it's possible for an us." his face twists in agony.

hearing this shatters karasu's heart and the confidence he had going into this. for a moment, he considers leaving; he knows more than anyone that he wasn't even close to your league, so why should he keep pestering you? but then he's reminded of his brightening love for you—the flame that can't be doused no matter the amount of water.

"i admit that the insults i hurl at people are nothing more than a cover. i know better than anyone that i'm nothing but just a man. i'm nothin' special, but you make me feel like i am. you remind me that i have the potential to be the man i claim to be. i want to turn that into a reality, darlin'. i can promise ya i'll work harder than anyone to become a version of me that you can be proud of."

karasu can only hope that you felt the plea and begs within his message. the plea to end his torment; to take him back. he'd willingly give up football if it meant he could spend every moment—waking and unconscious—with you.

"i'm an insecure, flawed man, and you... yer everything. i'm sorry you had to witness the things i said, the things i made others feel. i'm incredibly sorry for planting doubt in yer mind; that i would ever treat you the same. because i wouldn't—i couldn't."

you peer up at karasu through your lashes, your breaths quiet, and your heart heavy. your heart longs for him, but your brain is uncertain.

at your deafening silence, karasu adds, "there's nothin' i can do right at this moment to prove what i'm sayin', but i want—need you to believe the very fact that i'm so far gone fer ya. i'm so damn in love with you, you can ask me to jump and i'll ask how high. nothin' in this world can rip me apart from ya, sweetheart."

the heat in his eyes burn brighter, and with that last statement, it burns down your walls. "okay. i'm willing to try again, but if you go back on your word, it's over for good."

"i know, darlin'. i'm grateful yer even considering this." karasu sighs a breath of relief, wasting no time nor movement to close the space between the two of you. his arms wrap around you so tight, one would think you'd disappear if he'd let go.

"i'm driving though," you declare, your voice muffled through his sweater.

"why's that, darlin'?"

"you reek of alcohol, tabito." he huffs a chuckle, handing you the keys after parting.

end notes. ꨄ︎ i'm happy with the way this fic ended, but i'm also so relieved it's finished. dare i say good riddance. if u breathe hard enough, u might catch some dust particles flying off from how long this has been rotting in my drafts

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[ppomumgranatum]

the dance of love's sweet potion.

also available on Ao3

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

tags: fluff, one shot, you POV, house-neutral reader, jealousy, protective

word count: 5.3k

Warnings: MAJOR HEADCANNON, the books and the potions are all in my head just for the sake of this story, characters are in their 7th year, I finally caved and wrote the cliche protective and jealous seb and i fucking love it

Summary: When a potion meant to repel backfired, it became a mishap that turned your world upside down.

Notes: I was craving some fluff, so a fluff was created ❤️

Revulsaroma is a powerful potion that demands careful handling and discretion. Designed for specific situations where deterring unwanted advances or repelling individuals is necessary, its potency requires utmost caution. Ingredients: • 3 drops of essence of skunk cabbage • 2 crushed doxy wings • 1 teaspoon of powdered Boomslang skin • 4 ounces of extract from a Devil's Snare vine • 1 pinch of powdered Basilisk fang • Hair from the person brewing the potion

You carefully traced your finger along the intricate words laid out in the book you had kept from your parents’ dusty collection on potion making and meticulously followed the instructions. Taking advantage of the quiet after hours, you used the station at potion class to get on with your mission.

You’re not a pro in potion making per se, but the way you precisely measure out ingredients, stirring the potion with such poise, you feel as skilled as Professor Sharp– if he was plagued with a horrible disease of a red-haired boy goes by the name of Leander Prewett. 

For weeks, Leander had been following you around so relentlessly and constantly asking you out. It was cute at first but now it was starting to feel like pure harassment. Despite numerous rejection, it didn't seem like he’s the type of guy who understood the concept of boundaries and your patience was wearing extremely thin. 

You remembered an old potion you once came across when you were younger– Revulsaroma, a repelling potion. You figured it was time to revisit those pages since you’re in a dire need for a solution. 

You stirred the components inside of your cauldron with a pinch of determination, distress, and a lot of rage. The earthy and putrid notes filled the air and it was probably going to stick with you for a while but you surely hoped this was going to be worth it.

When the potion finally came to completion, you carefully transferred it to a pumpkin juice bottle to trick Leander into drinking it.

“Alright, that looks good.” You sighed in relief as you put the bottle down and stared at the securely stored dark liquid with pride, knowing that soon you’d be able to take a break from the unwanted attention. At least for a while just until you could figure out a permanent way to stop him, 

You proceeded to clean up your station and returned some tools that you took from the inventory room, making sure that everything was back in its rightful spot. Because Merlin knew that you couldn’t take another chide from Professor Sharp about the importance of being responsible and organised.

Just when everything was about to be restored to its pristine state, you heard a loud retching coming from the other room. When you rushed outside, you saw your bestfriend, hands desperately grasping the edge of your station, body racked with violent gagging, and breath ragged in a grave attempt to gasp for air.

“Sebastian?” You exclaimed while rushing to his side, “Are you alright?”

“Came to—bleughh—look for you,” Sebastian managed to say in between his guttural heaves.

“What’s wrong?” Your voice trailed off when you saw your pumpkin juice bottle collapsed and empty. Right at that moment, your eyes widened at the realisation that Sebastian just drank your Revulsaroma. “No, no, no. You bloody, bloody idiot!” 

Quickly, you summoned water from an empty jar that you found nearby and gave it to Sebastian who was still fighting the disgusting taste stuck in his throat.

Gulping down the entire water in a matter of milliseconds, Sebastian attempted to catch his breath, “Your pumpkin juice— is expired, by the way.”

“Oh my God, oh my God, Sebastian!” You ran your fingers through your hair in distress. What was already a pretty stressful situation just got a whole lot worse. 

“What?” He was truly not getting your frustration. He gagged once more, recoiling whatever last bit of that disgusting liquid he's tasting.

“That’s not pumpkin juice!” You scowled and gestured abruptly.

“What is it, then? Poison?” Every muscle on his face seemed to tensed up, still.

“Why would you fucking drink that? It was meant for Leander.” You grunted.

His grimace was then taken over by disbelief for a moment, “Gods, killing Leander is a bit extreme, don’t you think? Even for me.”

“No—ugh,” You sighed heavily, feeling totally overwhelmed. Slumping on your station, you rested your head on it "This is bad. It's really bad."

“You're freaking me out. What is it?”

You lifted your head from the table, meeting his concerned gaze with a weary expression.

“It’s a potion called Revulsaroma. It is supposed to repel whoever drinks it.” You admitted.

Sebastian was still focused on getting the foul taste out of his tongue, but his eyes were quickly narrowed in the scrutiny of your last sentence, “And why exactly are you trying to repel Leander?”

Catching Sebastian's look, a twinge of guilt pricked at you. You winced inwardly, realising you'd never really spilled the beans to Sebastian about the whole Leander debacle. Partly because you didn’t want to give him the wrong idea and thinking that there was anything romantic going on between you and the Gryffindor boy. 

The line on your relationship with Sebastian had always been blurry, if you could be honest. You’re obviously friends—best friends—but at the same time, the chemistry between the two of you would be such a waste to stay as friends.

You’d occasionally exchange innocent flirting, teasing each other and bantering in a way that felt more than platonic. You couldn't deny the butterflies in your stomach that fluttered every time he smiled at you and the way you felt when he complimented you.

Things had been going very well lately, and you'd like to think you had a shot to turn it into something more.

But now, he’s consumed the one thing that was going to seal the chance you have with him. Because whatever feeling he was going to feel, the potion was supposed to make him feel it so strongly. 

The thought of losing Sebastian terrified you.

“That’s not what we’re supposed to be focusing on.” You diverted the topic and reached out to your book, checking for things to look out for. Your eyes trailed the ink that explains the detail of the potion.

You noticed Sebastian had shifted his weight from the corner of your eye, moving somewhat uncomfortable in his feet.

"But what does that mean for me?" he asked.

You sighed, trying to collect your thoughts. "According to the potion's effects, you're supposed to start feeling aversions towards me," you explained, gesturing towards the brewing cauldron with a frustrated gesture. "and I have no idea how to reverse it.”

Your voice was heavy with disappointment. The same emotion was written all over Sebastian's face. There was silence as you both processed the fact that there was no quick fix to this mess.

“So, I’m supposed to hate you? Just like that?”

“That’s kind of the whole point of the potion.”

Sebastian's eyes scanned the cluttered laboratory, a look of resignation settling over his features. "Well, this is just great," he muttered under his breath. Sebastian's complexion turned paler, a nauseous expression crossing his features, "I think I'm gonna be sick."

Sebastian stood there, his hand pressed against his stomach, unsure if the wave of nausea washing over him was solely due to the potion's effects or the unsettling thought of hating you.

But then he felt his body teetering on the brink of collapse. You grappled his arm to provide support but his condition worsened in an instant and he started to fall backwards. Using every ounce of your strength, you were struggling to keep him upright because damn this boy was heavy. And when his weight eventually bore you down, you lowered him down gently.

There was no response even after you called out his name and shook his body. His breathing was laboured and you were panicking. You didn’t know the potion would be this strong.

Spotting a group of students who were passing by outside of the classroom, you called out to them for assistance. Sebastian was then taken to the infirmary and was given proper treatment by Nurse Blainey.

You had to awkwardly explain what caused the brunette to lose his consciousness. Given the fact that you were practising and using potions for non-study purposes, disciplinary action was necessary and you were required to attend detention tomorrow.

When you returned to your room that night, all you did was shift around in your bed. Spending the entire night thinking about Sebastian and how he will wake up in the morning hating you.

But for now, all you could do was wait.

 - 

When the sun rose, you were quick to get back on your feet and head towards the infirmary to check on Sebastian before breakfast started. But to your surprise, he was no longer there. Nurse Blainey said he woke up all energetic and there were no signs of any disturbance so she allowed him to get on with school.

You were slightly relieved to know that Sebastian was feeling better. Although the question of his feelings towards you remained unknown.

So you ventured on, heading to the Great Hall for breakfast. Moving along with a crowd of students who were also making their way to the venue you suddenly bumped into someone.

“Oh, sorry.” You glanced up to see it was no other than Sebastian, “Hey, I was looking for you.”

You’ve caused some traffic considering you abruptly stopped in the middle of a walkaway crowd. Some were bumping into you and muttered under their breaths in annoyance. It was a horrible time to be upsetting people—hungry and grumpy people.

So Sebastian dragged you away from the crowd. You were caught a little bit off guard at the sudden tug on your elbow. Your feet were almost stumbling around trying to catch up to Sebastian’s pace.

“Are you insane?” Was the first thing he said when you found a quiet little corner away from the bustling people.

Your stomach clenched. 

This was it. 

The memories you shared for the past two years dramatically flashed before your eyes— the adventures, the late night studies, the stupid unfunny jokes he made but you laughed at them anyway— fuck. 

This was it.. he hated you.

“Why would you tell Nurse Blainey the truth about everything?” He sounded quite aggravated. Unexpectedly, it was not for the reason you thought it would be— albeit he should be angry towards you for no reason at all considering the potion.

Your mouth gaped open but you were struggling to find the words. 

"You could've just said it was a bad batch for our assignment," He explained. "You didn't have to get detention for it."

“What?” You finally managed to sputter out.

“Blainey said she gave you detention.” He added, “I feel bad.”

You can’t feel bad for someone you hate unless they fall into lava and viciously die or something. Because to feel bad meant having empathy, and to feel empathy meant he cared, which meant he didn’t hate you and the potion never worked.

Right?

“So you don’t hate me?” You asked carefully.

His tensed brows gradually softened as realisation dawned on him. He was so focused on you that he never really thought of what the potion was supposed to make him feel.

“I don’t, actually.” He sounded relieved and as were you upon hearing his confirmation, “I guess the potion never worked after all.”

Relief washed over you like a cool breeze on a hot day. Though you started wondering if the potion didn’t work on Sebastian, it might’ve not worked on Leander either. Which meant you were back to square one, trying to figure out how to deal with his annoying arse. 

But it was a problem you didn’t want to think about too much at the moment. You were just glad your friendship with Sebastian remained intact despite the unfortunate mishap.

“So what did Blainey assign you to do?”

“She said Scribner has been fussing over some organising issues.” You grumbled, “She told me to give her some assistance after classes.”

“Yikes.” Sebastian said, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry.” You retorted, “Are you really feeling alright?”

“As normal as I can be.” He smiled reassuringly, “Though, you still haven’t told me why you were trying to repel Leander.”

“He just..” You hesitated for a moment,  annoys me.” 

Technically, you didn’t lie. Leander’s entire antics had been nothing but annoying to you. Sebastian only pursed his lips and nodded. Be that as it may, his eyes were looking at you rather dubiously. But he didn’t pry further.

–

After breakfast, you had some time to kill before class started. You found yourself seeking solace in the quiet lounge area near the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. With a book on Revulsaroma in hand, you sought answers in its pages that you might have missed. It explained further about its history and the past research on this potion. As you delved deeper, a particular section caught your eye that described a crucial detail—

The Revulsaroma potion's effectiveness in repelling a drinker is contingent upon the absence of strong positive emotions towards the potion-maker. If the drinker harbours genuine affection for the potion-maker, the potion's repelling properties may be nullified or significantly weakened. This phenomenon is attributed to the potent influence of positive emotions, which can act as a counterforce against the potion's intended repulsion.

Before you could dwell on it further, Leander plopped beside you out of nowhere and casually draped his arm around your shoulder, interrupting your thoughts.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He greeted you with a smile so charming if he wasn’t so pushy about it you could see yourself giving in to his cheesy escapades. You subtly shifted away from the sudden proximity, hoping he would take the hint some time.

“Good morning, Leander.” You replied politely.

He seemed to be undeterred by your subtle attempt because he leaned in closer, “So, I was thinking, with the weather getting nicer and all, let’s take a trip around the highlands.” He sounded so enthusiastic for a suggestion that’s so inappropriate, “We could explore the beautiful scenery. My family has this cosy little cottage just outside of Keenbridge that we can use. What do you think?”

You scrunched up your nose because it sounded bloody ridiculous, “A bit intimate, don’t you think?”

“What’s wrong with a little bit of intimacy?”

“Nothing wrong with it, of course. If you’re a couple.”

“Oh, come on. You’ll love it.” Leander’s enthusiasm didn’t waver, if anything he sounded even more excited. 

“It’s too much—”

He interrupted you with a tone so persuasive, “Okay fine, how about just a simple Hogsmeade date, then?”

You sighed at his persistence. It’s really getting too much. 

“Leander, it’s really sweet but—”

Suddenly, your conversation was interrupted by a looming shadow casted over the both of you. Glancing up, you saw Sebastian standing there with an uncharacteristically serious expression.

“I’m going to count to three, Prewett, and you are going to stand up and get your arse the fuck out of here.”  He demanded.

“What are you going to do about it if I don’t?” He was annoyed  by Sebastian's sudden intervention.

The brunette’s gaze was focused on the way Leander had his arms wrapped around your shoulder and the way his hand was caressing your arm at the same time. Then he stared dead into Leander's eyes, “You don’t want to find out.”

Somehow you found yourself caught in the middle of the sudden hostility. 

“Sebastian.” You warned him softly.

“Ignore him.” Leander didn't care for the threat. But Sebastian wasn’t having it and when Leander was ready to ignore him and continue his conversation with you, Sebastian grabbed him by his collar that it forced Leander to stand up, and he dragged the red haired boy away and slammed his back into a nearby pillar.

“I told you to fucking stand up and get out of here.” Sebastian scowled.

“Get your filthy hands off of me.” Leander attempted to shrug off Sebastian’s grip but it only grew tighter.

“Then you better get yours away from her.” His voice was so low and menacing. You had no idea what possessed him, because as aggressive as Sebastian could get he wouldn’t be so quick to resort to anything so recklessly physical unless it’s necessary— at least not anymore.

“Are you both out of your minds?” You stood beside the conflicting boys, “Stop being children or you will get into trouble.” The confrontation was drawing more attention from onlookers, and you could sense the tension rising. 

A crowd started gathering around to see what the fuss was about. Students nearby paused and turned their heads, curious about the commotion. Whispers and side conversations began to buzz through the group as they watched the confrontation unfold.

You felt a bit awkward with the sudden attention. The whole thing was getting more dramatic than you'd anticipated, and you just wanted to find a way to sort it out before it got worse.

“What is your problem, Sallow?” 

“You are the problem, Prewett. Can’t you take the hint?”

“It’s none of your business.” The Gryffindor boy was defensive— as anyone would be if someone just randomly shoved you into the wall and told you what to do. 

“It becomes my business when you decide to harass her.”

“You are making a scene. Stop it.” You warned them, hoping they would steer away from the conflict. But they were still too busy with each other.

“Trying to be a big hero, aren’t you? Protecting her?” Leander was clearly taunting him. Sebastian wouldn’t usually allow himself to be bothered by whatever nonsense Leander would do. But this time was different,  “She doesn’t need you. She can make her own decision.”

“And she did, when she said no.” Sebastian retorted sharply, “So back off.”

“If you are so worried about me taking her out then you should’ve asked her first. Don’t come here and act all heroic because you missed your chance.” Leander fired back, “If you weren’t such a coward—-”

There went the last cell of Sebastian’s brain that allowed him to think rationally when he decided to punch Leander in the face, sending the red-haired boy stumbling and his nose bleeding. 

“Sebastian!” You stepped in between them, trying to push Sebastian back behind the line he just crossed. His eyes were glaring and breaths were rather ragged from the anger, “What the fuck are you doing?”

After being punched unexpectedly, Leander's pride and dignity were hurt. He wouldn't tolerate being attacked without retaliating. He mustered all of his anger and frustration to punch Sebastian with all of his force. 

But before he could, Sebastian struck again, landing a second punch on his face. Leander stumbled backwards again, but this time he was quicker to get back on his feet and lunged forward, swinging his fists wildly. 

Sebastian was able to dodge a few of his blows, but Leander managed to land a couple of powerful punches on Sebastian's cheek. 

Sebastian stepped back, his face red from pain and anger. Now the two of them had no choice but to fight, and you had no choice but to look for some help. Luckily, it wasn’t long for you to reach Professor Hecat, because when you returned to the brawl, Leander was already pinned to the floor with Sebastian on top of him, landing more punches.

Professor Hecat swiftly casted a spell that immediately shoved both of them away from each other. 

The two boys stood there with battered faces and were later sent to the same detention as you.

You had no desire in conversing with idiots, so when the three of you shared the space on one of the library aisle, organising books, you gave all your might to ignore them, especially Sebastian.

You thought he’d left his impetuous behaviour back in the catacombs two years ago, but clearly you were wrong. The way you aggressively shoved books into places allowed Sebastian to notice that you were furious.

“I know you’re angry at me.” He said, breaking the silence.

“Oh really? Didn’t think you’d notice. I was being subtle.” You replied sarcastically.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what had gotten into me.” His voice was soft but outright, “You know I don't fight muggle-style.”

You remained cold. There was nothing about his apology that made you feel better. So you continued to ignore him and he tried to speak up again.

“Can we talk?” He pleaded but you ignored him. You picked up a stack of books and moved to the next aisle to shelve them in their proper places.

Sebastian followed you behind, not backing down, “I’m really, really, sorry.”

He seemed genuinely apologetic, but you were reluctant to give in. After all, his actions had caused this entire mess and resulted in the two boys getting detention.

You didn’t want to argue with him, but you couldn’t resist making a point.

“Tell that to Leander and his broken nose.”

Sebastian let out a scoff, “I’m not sorry about that.”

“Seriously Sebastian? You hit him first. He just reacted.” You turned to face him this time.

"He was harassing you," Sebastian defended himself, "I had to do something."

"Did you have to punch him in the face? Repeatedly?”

“Why are you defending him?” His tone was rising, "What do you expect me to do? Just stand by and let him flirt with you?"

“What is so wrong with that?”

“Because—” Then he stopped himself. Eyes flustered and flicked between yours like he was trying to gather his own thoughts. Then he let out a frustrated sigh,  “Leander is a self-oriented, self-indulgent, arrogant, selfish, insufferable jerk.”

You shook your head in disbelief and stared dead at him in the eye, “Well, right now it sounds like you were just describing yourself, Sebastian.”

Before you could say anything else, you left him alone in the aisle and this time he didn’t follow you.

—

It was Saturday morning, and while you had no classes to attend, you were still stuck with detention for a portion of the day. Not only did this eat into your weekend leisure time, but you also had to spend it without talking to Sebastian.

You sighed as you placed books somewhere in the corner of the library right where they belonged. 

Couldn’t help but think that spending your weekend somewhere in the castle, perhaps the undercroft, reading books and being alone together with Sebastian was where you belonged. 

Time sure felt lonely without his presence.

Then as if he could read your mind from miles away he showed up, “Do you like Leander?”

Shocked and confused by the sudden question you turned to find Sebastian standing at the end of the aisle.

His face was a patchwork of bruises and cuts, a visible reminder of the fight he had gotten into with Leander. A purplish bruise marred his cheek, and a small cut above his eyebrow was still fresh. Despite his battered appearance, his eyes were focused intently on you, filled with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

“What?” You asked.

“I spent the entire night thinking about you. I thought maybe you like Leander, because why did you defend him so much yesterday?” He rambled.

You opened your mouth to say something but Sebastian wasn’t finished.

“But then I thought, if you liked him, why did you want to repel him with the potion?” He continued, “And why did you reject him when he asked you out? Five times, over the past month.”

You opened your mouth again, but this time every single word you have learned seemed to have fallen over your head because not a single thing came to your mind.

There were two things that surprised you.

One, Sebastian spent the entire night thinking about you.

Two, Sebastian knew that Leander had been asking you out.

And your brain did not know which one to stress about first.

“You knew about Leander?” You finally said.

“We share every class everyday. You don’t think I’d notice?” He replied with another question, “He wasn’t subtle about it either. Was I not supposed to know?”

You fell quiet, unsure of what to say next. The more you opened your mouth, the more you found yourself with nothing to say. 

Sebastian waited for your response, but when it did not come, he continued, “Why did you keep rejecting him?”

You shrugged, slightly flustered, “Simply because I don’t want to go out with him.”

“Why did you not tell me about him, then?”

“It wasn’t worth mentioning,” you replied, avoiding his gaze.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Sebastian stared at you, as if he couldn’t believe your answer.

“It was pointless,” Your tone was rising slightly, “It’s not like I would ever date Leander. I wasn’t even giving him a second thought. So It doesn’t matter.”

Sebastian was silent for a beat before he spoke again. “It matters to me.”

Your pulse raced, and the air suddenly felt tighter.

Sebastian was staring at you, his eyes intent and penetrating. The silence stretched on, and you had to force yourself to look him in the eye

“Everything about you matters to me. You’re my best friend. We’re supposed to share everything, right?” He added, “Isn’t that what best friends do?”

As you stood there, guilt was eating you inside out. Your decision to leave him in the dark unexpectedly hurt him more than you thought. The look in his eyes was so unfamiliar you couldn’t pinpoint his emotion.

He took a step closer.

“Why do you care so much? It’s just Leander.”

“Don’t you get it?” He said softly, “It’s not about Leander. It’s about the fact that he’s been asking you out, flirting with you relentlessly, being so close with you.. in a way that is supposed to be only for me.”

You stood there, stunned. His words hit you like a bolt of lightning, and you felt a mix of shock and confusion wash over you.

Sebastian took another step towards you, his gaze steady and unbreaking, and it was piercing through your soul.

“It’s supposed to be just for me” He repeated the phrase as if he was talking to himself. The look in his eyes was intense, and you could feel how important this was to him.

A moment passed until you realised that you should respond. The longer you stayed silent, the worse it felt. So you spoke up, “Are you jealous?”

“Yes.” He simply replied.

His response set your body ablaze. You could feel your heart pounding in your throat.

“I was supposed to hate you, but instead I woke up that morning in the infirmary and I couldn’t be more sure that I am utterly and completely in love with you.” His voice dropped, “And when I saw you with Leander and hearing all the things that he said, I meant it when I told you I had no idea what had gotten into me but all I knew was every single cell in my body was on fire.”

You thought for sure your heart would explode as all of this sunk in. You had expected anything but a confession. Your heart was beating so fast and hard that you had to concentrate on breathing, or else it felt like you couldn't breathe.

“I spent the entire night thinking about all of the time we've spent.” He added, “I can't stop thinking about the sound of your laughter. The way you'd still genuinely laugh at the most unfunny joke I would tell. Or how your usual bright eyes would fall into a deep immersion when you read. And the way your delicate finger hovers over the edge of a page, turning it over.”

A smile tugged on the corner of Sebastian's lips as he recalled every little detail about you that only he would care about. The beat of your heart went faster with each syllable that came out of his mouth and every nerve in your body was shaking.

“I always wonder how the touch of those fingertips would feel on my skin,” There were so many things he wanted to say to you. Every detail of you that made him so desperately in love, “and how perfect your fingers would be intertwining with mine.”

For a moment, you were one-hundred percent sure this was all a dream. Because everything around you seemed so blurry and all of the sudden everything felt surreal. But when Sebastian took another step closer, and another until he was close enough to grab your hands and intertwine your fingers together, the haze dissipated. The way his touch alerted every single nerve in your body, you knew that this was real— he was real and he was in love with you.

The two of you stood there, inches apart, staring at each other with your emotions overflowing.

“We belong together.” You could see that his intensity and raw emotion was getting the better of him. His words were coming out quick and sudden, “I should’ve asked you out long before Leander did. Just another stupid mistake I made.”

He inched closer and closer until you felt Sebastian's breath on your lips, and your body trembled in anticipation. You took a deep breath and let yourself fall into the moment.

“You could’ve been too late, you know?” You whispered.

“Am I?”

You shook your head and smiled against his lips, “No, you’re not. I’ve been stupidly waiting for you.”

Sebastian's voice was soft and tender as he spoke again, “I’m glad we’re both stupid enough, then. And for many other things that make me glad you're finally mine."

“Even the potion?” You smirked.

“Especially the damn potion.” A smile spread across Sebastian's face.

Your breaths were laced with desire, and your thoughts went to the first kiss between the two of you were going to share. It felt surreal to have arrived at this moment that you had both anticipated for so long.

Your lips were close enough to touch. Your hearts were beating so loudly. And in this moment, it felt like a moment out of time.

When his lips met yours, the world seemed to melt away and everything else faded into the background. It was everything it had built up to be—hot and passionate and exciting.

You kissed him deeply and all was right with the world. Sebastian's hands wrapped around your back, and yours around his neck. 

Your senses were all focused on Sebastian, on the kiss and the way he made you feel. This was what you had been waiting for, and it was everything you dreamed of and more.

When you pulled away, your eyes were locked and you found yourselves smiling uncontrollably. There was nothing left to feel awkward or unsure of, and it felt as if a weight had been lifted.

Sebastian brushed his fingers through your hair. You were finally getting your happiness.

"I love you," He whispered against your lips.

“I love you, too.” you replied softly, brushing your noses together.

You spent the rest of the day making out in the deepest corner of the library, neglecting your detention. And when Madam Scribner found the two of you some time later, all dishevelled, you were granted another detention time.

But neither of you cared. Because it was all worth it.

In an extremely rare case, the Revulsaroma potion could have an unprecedented effect, completely opposite to its intended repelling nature. Rather than nullifying or weakening, the potion might paradoxically amplify and reinforce any existing strong positive feelings that the drinker harboured towards the potion-maker. Due to genuine and deep-seated love for the maker, the drinker might experience a surge of intense emotions that can be both overwhelming and consuming, such as, jealousy, protectiveness, and overwhelming affection.

[writerbugg]

𝕭𝖚𝖗𝖓𝖊𝖉

Yan. Viktor x Reader

Word Count - 9.3K

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

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

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

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

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

━━━━━╝✹╚━━━━━

And the world screams,

'Kiss me, Sun of God.'

━━━━━╗✹╔━━━━━

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No progress, hmm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

“The gemstone is gone.”

❪❂❫

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

❪❂❫

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

❪❂❫

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

“The stars are lovely tonight, no?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The thought left a sour taste in your mouth.

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

A chill crept up your spine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

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

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

Your apprenticeship under Jayce.

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

If Viktor were your mentor—

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

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

Perhaps…

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

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

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

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

It was early morning when you got the news.

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

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

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

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

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

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

His smile lingers, though bittersweet.

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

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

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

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

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

The tools are in his grasp now.

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

"I haven't given up yet,"

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

“You should be with them.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[OML I LOVE MEL KJENFKJSEDF]

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The silence in the room was deafening.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

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

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

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

You thought you mattered to him.

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

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

“Am I interrupting?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh quietly. “Yeah, maybe.”

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

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re dangerous!” Jayce hissed.

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

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

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

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

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

━━━━━━━━

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—or if it had already consumed him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Viktor doesn’t move to stop you.

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

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

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

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

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

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

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

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

You don’t know what to feel.

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

You admired him.

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

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

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

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

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

How did it come to this?

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

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

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

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

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

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

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

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

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

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

"No."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Did it always look like that?

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

"Oh— uh, found them."

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

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

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

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

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

Your skin sizzled as the glow of the Hexcore intensified.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The words hung between you like a fragile thread.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you regret it?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

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

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

What you saw inside froze you in place.

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

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

"Viktor!?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n!!”

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

━━━━━━━━❪❂❫━━━━━━━━

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

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

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

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

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

To be continued...

TagList:

@marcyyywukinnie

[illubean]

Bit of a long winded fluff/crack headcanon request: Illumi, Feitan, Chrollo, and Phinks developing the most infuriating crush on a gn! Reader who is just a lazy sopping wet dog of a person?

Reader will nap anywhere.

Will just kind of flop where ever they are when under too much emotional distress and refuse to move

Hell, sometimes they to be physically scruffed and carried/dragged to do social stuff and does the whole liquid cat thing where they go entirely slack just to be difficult. Overall reader's pretty reliable and will (begrudgingly) do just about anything the guys ask if incentivized, they're a surprising understanding and active listener, a highkey terrifying and precise combatant, and could probably be bribed to do anything from cuddle and never speak about it to horrible violations of the geneva convention for snacks and a nice nap afterward. They're incredibly easy to please and not that most/any of the guys would ever admit it but not being near them makes everything feel exponentially worse.

But they're also stubborn, incredibly low energy, and frankly seem a bit stupid on closer inspection to the point the guys are probably questioning "no- god- fuck- why???"

HXH Men with Lazy!Reader

Characters: Illumi Zoldyck, Chrollo Lucilfer, Feitan Portor, Phinks Magcub Type: Crack, Headcanons, Gn!reader

IM NOT DEADDD

Warnings: mentions of violence, mention of pregnancy like once

Illumi Zoldyck

if you didn't have any special nen or whatever he would've killed you by now out of pure frustration

you were set up in an arranged marriage because of your status, and at first Illumi could not care but surprise surprise he caught feelings eventually

and it was upsetting.

1) he was feeling something 2) IT WAS FOR YOUR STUPID ASS

ALL YOU DO IS LAY AROUND THE MANTION AND EAT HOT CHIP

you remind him of Milluki sometimes and that just makes him even more mad

every time you guys are sent on missions together he actually has to drag you because you refuse to do any type of physical labor

if he's feeling particularly nice he'll throw you over his shoulder instead

at this point Illumi is only sent on missions with you to make sure you actually do it

because otherwise you would never be anywhere on time...

you're able to handle your opponents just fine you just...rather not

which is part of the reason Illumi gets so irritated with you

you have so much potential yet don't utilize it

at this point the only solution he can think of is knocking you up (if ur capable of getting pregnant) and hoping the kids don't come out as lazy as you...

Chrollo Lucilfer

with him being the leader of the phantom troupe aka your boss you should probably listen to him without hesitation but your ass does not gaf

he's learned how to deal with you

he keeps candy in his coat pocket just as a bribe if you don't feel like doing something he's asking of you

when he runs out you begrudgingly do what he asks anyways but not without complaints

Chrollo doesn't really mind having to physically move you places himself, considering you do most of his bidding anyways

but that's only because he likes you <3

if you were anyone else he would leave them wherever and whether they get up and follow him back to base is up to them

and because he's so lenient with you you feel bad sometimes and end up sucking it up and walking yourself

he doesn't mind your laziness as much as the others because you get your job done and could probably beat him up if you wanted to so who is he to tell you how to live your life?

he never sends you on missions alone, he needs to be there to make sure you actually do it (no he doesn't he just can't be away from you for too long)

Feitan Portor

this man is on the verge of killing you.

what the hell is the point of Chrollo keeping you around if all you do is lay around doing nothing and talk back when asked to do something??

he swears you act like a 5 year old boy sometimes

when he needs something from you he will threaten physical harm but its actually just empty threats

theres no fighting within the troupe and no matter how much he wishes he didn't, he likes you

and surprisingly, his threats are incentive enough to get you up and moving

most of the time...

other times when you refuse to move or just flop onto the floor he is grabbing you by the ankle and dragging you the rest of the way to wherever you need to go

he doesn't care if you get scratched and bruised up, if you wanted to avoid that then you should've just gotten up and walked by yourself

sometimes to get you to do things the rest of the troupe offers you things on Feitan's behalf

"Hey if you get up and beat this guy's ass with us Feitan will carry you all the way home instead of dragging you" "Like hell I will"

after seeing you in action for the first time Feitan is even more upset that you're so insufferably lazy

you are quite literally one of the most valuable troupe members but you??? never want to follow orders?????? this is literally your job

you're lucky he likes you because if you were anyone else he'd leave you where ever you decided to lay down and let you die there

Phinks Magcub

this man is going to argue with you for DAYS

at this point he feels like you refuse to do anything just because it makes him mad

hes another one who tries using incentives but he never follows through with what he promises

when you ragdoll he will begrudgingly carry you wherever you need to go

this guy battles your laziness with loud, annoying and never ending complaints

and tbh? it actually works most of the time

he gets so annoying that ur like "FINE FINE I'LL DO IT JUST SHUT UP ALREADY"

if you catch him on a good day he'll carry you/give you a piggy back ride without complaints

sometimes he uses your laziness as an excuse just to hold you <3

sry this one is so short I cant think of anything

[cherryberry-sugarandspice]

"So sensitive," Erik muses aloud, two fingers buried deep in your weeping cunt. Knuckle deep, to be precise.

The size and length of his two fingers alone stretches your walls apart. You're drooling, eyes rolled to the back of your head, trembling against the mattress. The older man lays beside you, propping his head up with his hand while the other is playing with your pussy.

"E-Erik," you choke out, hand pressed against his chest. "I-It's too much," you rasp. Stars fill your vision when he curls his fingers and the pads of them brush along your spongey spot repeatedly.

A smug smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, eyes half-hooded. "Two fingers is too much?" he says, almost sounding surprised. "Are you saying this dirty little cunt of yours can't handle two fingers, my dear?"

You're gasping for air, chest heaving. His thick fingers pump in and out of you, pussy frothing all over them.

"T-They're so big," you whine.

Hearing your raspy, lewd voice causes his cock to throb. He chuckles, kissing your neck, inhaling your scent.

"You know what I think? I think you can handle one more."

The thought of not one, not two, but three fingers has your pussy squirting. You shudder, biting down on your lip as you do so. You hope Erik didn't catch that, yet the warm liquid is coating his wrist and upper arm, all the way to his elbow. Erik lifts his head back up, breathless.

"Did you see the mess you made?" he says, gesturing with his head towards his arm. He pulls his fingers out and you groan audibly at the loss, gaping hole clenched around nothing. He gives your pussy a firm slap and you yelp, fluids gushing out of your slit. "You're dirty, aren't you? Nothing but a filthy whore...but that what makes you good, hm?"

His lips hover above your ear as he whispers hotly, "You take my cock so well. Every night, I don't even need to tell you to spread yourself open. You're already doing it for me. That, or you're sucking on me through my pants, too impatient to even let me take them off." Another slap to the cunt and you're crying out a moan. "You're a filthy whore, but only for me. Doom may try to woo you, but you're the one in my bed, pleading for me to ravish this dirty little cunt of yours."

His words sends electricity throughout your body. His warm breath fanning across your ear, his hand slapping your cunt or fingers zeroing in on your clit and rubbing it, God, he's killing you.

"Mmmf...Erik!" you squealed when he presses firmly against your bundle of nerves, pussy once against squirming. This time he sees it and he groans, bringing his hand up to lick it.

"I know you can handle three fingers, my dear. If you're able to take my cock, then taking three fingers is an easy feat for you." He licks over the sweet spot on your neck and sucks on it, causing you to arch your back and moan. "Hm? What do you say?"

You nod your head, gasping. "Y-Yes! Hng...oh, yes, g-give me your fingers."

Erik smiles, actually smiles, and pokes at your entrance with three fingers teasingly. "Are you sure, my dear?"

God, his smugness will be the death of you. "Please! Please put them in!"

Erik kisses the underside of your chin. "As you wish, my dear."

He sinks three fingers in with a wet suction noise and you're screaming, head pressed back into the mattress and pussy convulsing around his thick fingers.

It's so much.

It's too much.

Embarrassingly enough, with his fingers half-way in, you're cumming. Your body shakes as your cum around his fingers, a silent scream tearing from your throat. Erik watches in satisfaction, licking his lips at the sight of your creaming cunt.

He allows you to breathe for a moment before he whispers in your ear, "My dear, you will be doing that again on my fingers, and then on my tongue, and last, but certainly not least, my cock."

[monstera-modd]

It’s a Front for Drugs

Another DCxDP Café AU #3

After the Nasty Burger incident, Dan, Dani, and Danny had no choice but to flee their home universe. With nowhere else to go, they settled in Gotham, New Jersey.

They opened a small café called "3D’s Coffee House", located right on the edge of Park Row, between Newtown and Pinkney. It was the perfect place—busy enough to blend in but not so crowded that they’d constantly be in the spotlight.

Dan took charge of the kitchen, handling all the baked goods. (Jazz had once suggested baking as a good stress reliever, and surprisingly, it worked.) Dani and Danny ran the front, chatting with customers and making killer coffee. (Heh.)

Business was steady, the atmosphere was cozy, and best of all, no one suspected they weren’t exactly normal.

Until, on an otherwise uneventful, cloudy day, the one and only Tim Drake-Wayne walked into their little shop.

Danny barely looked up from the espresso machine as the guy—clearly running on fumes—dragged himself to the counter and ordered an Electric Delight.

"Three extra shots and two pumps of caramel," Tim mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

Danny raised a brow but didn’t comment. "Coming right up."

He crafted the order with expert precision, sliding the cup over with a friendly, "Enjoy your liquid death."

Tim didn't even hesitate. He took the cup, downed the entire thing in record time, and let out a slow exhale.

And then—

He felt awesome.

Like, heart-racing, brain-on-overdrive, seeing-sound-levels of awake.

None of the usual coffee shops he frequented could make him feel this alert this fast. This alive.

Curious, he mentioned the café to Dick.

Who, of course, mentioned it to Jason.

And since 3D’s Coffee House was in his territory, Jason took one look at the situation and immediately came to a conclusion.

"...They’re using drugs."

Dick frowned. "What?"

"Think about it," Jason said, crossing his arms. "Some no-name café opens up on the edge of Park Row—already suspicious. Then they start selling ungodly strong coffee that makes people feel invincible? That’s not caffeine, that’s drugs."

Tim, sipping his second Electric Delight, blinked. "...I mean. It could just be good coffee?"

"Wake up, Replacement," Jason scoffed. "This has front for a drug operation written all over it."

Dick sighed. "We should investigate."

Tim groaned. "Why do I feel like you guys are going to ruin my new favorite coffee place?"

Jason cracked his knuckles. "Because we are."

_____________________

my brain was so fucked while writing this guys

(Edit: I’m thinking of redoing this whole idea so there’s that, I’m not happy with how this one turned out lol probably because I wrote it at like 4am but… ANYWAY!)

[fawnistry]

ᥫ᭡ dead dove: do not eat.

content warnings: noncon/dubcon, medical experimentation, forced arousal, body betrayal, sensory manipulation,  physical restraint, pain-play, overstimulation, forced orgasms

▷ preview: zayne is a morally bankrupt scientist testing a new aphrodisiac drug, and you are his unwilling subject.

the cold metal table bites into your bare skin as you struggle against the restraints. zayne watches, his dark eyes gleaming behind those round glasses, fingers tapping against his clipboard.

"subject 47," he murmurs, voice smooth as poison. "let’s see how you handle this."

the syringe glints under the harsh lab lights, the unknown liquid inside a sickly, iridescent pink.

"new formula," he explains, almost conversational. "designed to amplify nerve sensitivity by… oh, about 300%." the needle slides into your arm before you can scream. "side effects include—" he pushes the plunger, and the burn floods your veins, "—inescapable arousal."

you gasp as the heat spreads, your body betraying you instantly. every brush of air against your skin feels like a tongue, every shift of fabric like fingers dragging too hard. zayne smirks, pulling out a recorder.

"subject exhibits rapid onset of symptoms: dilated pupils, increased heart rate, flushed skin." his gloved hand skates up your inner thigh, and you jerk, a whimper tearing from your throat. "ah, and heightened sensitivity to touch. excellent."

you beg him to stop, but he only tilts his head, amused. "scream all you want. no one can hear you down here." his fingers dip between your legs, and you sob—the contact is agony, pleasure, too much, not enough.

"fascinating," he murmurs, watching your hips buck involuntarily. "the drug seems to override conscious resistance." he circles your clit with clinical precision, scribbling notes as you writhe. "tell me, does it feel good? or does it just feel inescapable?"

you can’t answer, your mind fraying under the onslaught. he adds another layer—a blindfold, noise-cancelling headphones—plunging you into darkness, where the only sensations are his hands and the drug’s cruel insistence.

"let’s test pain thresholds," he muses, and then his teeth sink into your shoulder. you arch, a scream locked in your chest as pleasure-pain blurs into white-hot need.his fingers push inside you, fucking you with brutal efficiency.

"vocalizations increase with penetration—interesting."

his grip on your hips is bruising, his pace relentless. you come without permission, your body seizing as he hums approvingly. "orgasm achieved in under three minutes. dosage may need adjustment."

but he doesn’t stop. he unzips his pants with one hand, still jotting notes like you’re nothing more than data between his brutal thrusts. your body convulsing with unbearably pleasure as his heavy cock kisses the walls of your soaked cunt. 

when he finally unplugs your ears, your voice is raw from screaming. he just smiles, wiping his hands on a towel. "wonderful results. we’ll continue tomorrow." the door clicks shut, leaving you trembling, aching, and already dreading the next experiment.

[microlitseo]

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3. Minimized Waste: Our instruments are built with minimal dead volume, meaning minimal liquid remains trapped within the pipette tips. This translates to a more efficient use of precious reagents and samples, which can be expensive and limited in HTS experiments.

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In conclusion, our liquid handling instruments are more than just tools; they are enablers. They empower researchers to unlock the full potential of High-Throughput Screening by facilitating faster, more accurate, and efficient experimentation. With them by your side, you can confidently explore the vast chemical landscape and identify the next game-changing drug or groundbreaking biological discovery.

[v1x-x1]

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟑 : 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 - 𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨✧

✧|| 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✧ 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ||

✧|| 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱 ||

Both of their voices were like an angelic melody that you wanted to listen to like a never-ending cycle of harmonisations. The repetition of your name sounding like a holy prayer that barely dared to escape their lips.

Aventurine’s kisses trailed from your neck to your collarbones, managing to paint you in the red of his marks, meanwhile Veritas was making sure to cover other parts of his canvas.

It didn’t take long for them to meet on your body and start kissing each other’s lips, the scene making you hot and bothered as a hand from each was still moving up and down your bare body.

Aventurine separated from Veritas’ lips and instead travelled to his jaw and the nape of his neck, working his way down. At the same time, Veritas wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer, connecting your lips in a soft yet desperate kiss.

The moans from all of you tangled so perfectly that the sound alone felt like pure bliss.

Aventurine’s lips now left Veritas’ body, and instead the two of them pulled you between them; their hot, sweaty, beautiful bodies trapping you in what you felt was paradise.

Aventurine’s hand slipped down, playing with your slick and teasing your most sensitive spot. “Oh, my friend… seems like you don’t need further preparations..” His voice was low, playful, and so fucking hot; you felt your breath hitch from the single ‘oh’.

You were now fully facing Veritas, him capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. Aventurine ran his cock across your folds, allowing your liquids to start dripping over it before he reached your hole and, without warning, thrusted into you.

A gasp left your mouth and Veritas swallowed it as he pushed further onto your lips.

Both of their hands roamed your body and Aventurine’s thrusts were becoming more precise and deeper. With every movement inside you, you melted more between them, forgetting how to think - all that was on your mind was how good Aventurine felt and how badly you wanted more from Veritas.

It’s as if he read your mind. The two males seemed to have silently communicated because you were now all shifting slightly.

You ended up on all fours, like a damn dog. Aventurine was still thrusting into your pulsing hole and Veritas was preparing himself. With a few flick of the wrists, his tip was now lined up with your lips, forcing them open not physically, but with that desperate look in his eyes which was so different to anything you ever seem in them - it made your heart beat so fast you didn’t even have time to hesitate to open your mouth.

Soon enough, he was fucking his cock against your lips.

Veritas had a grip on your hair, positioning your head in just the right way as he moved his hips to get the needed friction to make him feel as good as he did.

Aventurine’s arms were still holding onto your waist, holding you still but also using it as a way to move into you even better; he was now bottoming out with every thrust.

The three of you moaned, your moans vibrating on Veritas’ cock which made his control slip away even more, urging him to grind faster.

This was truly a sight to behold. You didn’t even care if you looked pathetic - this was the best you have ever felt. Aventurine kept moving at a fast pace and hitting the right spots, Veritas kept fucking your mouth, causing some saliva to drip; you loved the way you were absolutely helpless right now.

You couldn’t move, couldn’t resist, you couldn’t even breathe properly with how Veritas didn’t give you a chance to.

Every thrust from each brought you a step closer to your climax. You could barely handle the immense amounts of pleasure your body was currently feeling.

If you could, you’d beg for more.

The moans circled the room, a wave of pleasurable crescendos. Oh God, you were so damn close, and with the way the two males were grunting and becoming less precise in their movements, you were more than certain they were too.

More. More. More. More.

And finally.

You felt Veritas’ hot load splatter all the way down your throat, trying so hard to swallow it despite your body shaking and trembling from your own orgasm and Aventurine’s liquids also covering the walls of your insides.

Fuck did you feel good.

Veritas pulled out to give you a chance to breathe and got back to eye level with you, cupping your face. The usual furrowing of his brows was nowhere to be seen. Aventurine still stayed put, riding out his own orgasm as he hugged you from behind.

Taglist: @lov3-ly @velvetyshu @coffeeisbehindyou @sanestventisimp

lmk if you want to be added or removed!!

[paleepeaches]

John Wick Yandere Headcanons

Never done this before so be kind to me! But anyway I just had these thoughts and needed to word vomit them up!

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, ddlg,

A/N: Wouldn't a fic be cute?

Okay so I know I'm not the first to say this and won't be the last but John is a fucking Yandere.

He's a full-blown stalker who probably sees you at a bar or even something so normal as a grocery store.

This man is LONELY af. Since Helen passed he can not find someone else for the life of him.

That's until you come along with your pretty doe eyes and sweet nature.

You can be younger than him and he'll be fine with it. John doesn't mind babysitting a cute bimbo like you

You'll catch his eye with your soft voice and sweet smile. Most people his age have a smoker's voice or are married.

He becomes OBSESSED with you quickly. I mean very swift like within 2 days of seeing you not even talking.

He'll just stalk tf out of you probably at your work. He'll see you bagging groceries or serving drinks and just observe you with customers.

He'll take note of what days you work and don't. He'll mark it on his calendar, and circle it in red like the old man he is.

Once he figures out your schedule and what time you get off, what route you take, if you drive or walk he'll follow you.

He's a skilled hitman so he knows how to disappear and follow someone without them noticing.

He'll stalk you all the way to your apartment and once he's sure you're asleep he'll break in.

He's scoped out your place enough to deduct that you have no pets. Even if you did he'd know how to handle a dog.

John is precise and determined which is why he'd be so keen on placing hidden cameras all over your house.

He'd position them in the living room, kitchen, shower, and even your bedroom.

He'd want to see your most intimate and private moments but not totally invade it.

Of course, you wouldn't find out. Your head is too stuffed in your phone scrolling through social media or online shopping. You got an addiction but it's okay once you're his he'll spoil you! John has a lot of pocket money from all his jobs!

How will he get you?

John doesn't half-ass anything. He's learned to see through tough missions. Even ones he didn't enjoy. Capturing you though...? He would enjoy it.

He'd enjoy setting a date, waiting outside your apartment with his car off.

He'd prepared all the necessary equipment such as ropes, duct tape, and a gun if he needed to threaten you but he'd find that would only scare you more and he didn't want his little girl frightened of him.

He'd go about it more skillfully, more stealthy.

John entered your home after he was sure you entered the deepest REM cycle. He snuck in the window you often left open. Poor forgetful you, always leaving windows unlocked.

One time he found your door unlocked which was a dreadful surprise for him. He locked it right after he watched you sleep for a whole two hours.

See? You needed him to look after you. He'd try to justify his insane actions with that.

With a completely guilt-free head, he'd enter your home, make his way into your bedroom, and see you asleep all cuddled up in your pink plush covers.

You'd look so cute and docile breathing softly.

He'd smile, admiring you before pulling out a clean needled from his jacket pocket. John pricked the needle into a vial of clear liquid, sucking up the fluid before administrating it to you.

Your eyes didn't even flutter open as he injected it.

"Such a good girl." John would speak softly to you, smoothing down your hair and kissing your forehead.

He'd pack your favorite stuffed animal, clothes, and even your cute collections of calico critters or sonny angels, whatever cute trinkets you collected.

He'd want you to feel comfortable at his home. Y'all's home.

[anantaru]

soft dom blade?? 😇😇😇

cw. soft dom/sub reader, fem! reader

you tug yourself close to blade, desperate for more of his stimulating fragrance penetrating your hazy mind, or his riveting touch and his electric kisses, yet, and such was evident, you longed for something else— whining at another loss of contact when he pulls his hands off your breasts but keeps a palm on your sore thigh, pulling you back against his cock.

"you want it?" blade slurrs in a heavy mirage of warm breathes, "i could go on all night."

and then it's when you see it, when blade leans closer to brush his lips over your jawline before watching you with ravenous eyes, giving you a familiar, slow and sexy smile, a smirk akin to lust, as he pushes his cock forward into your creamy pussy, entering you entirely.

his lips, fuck, they feel and taste so good, and the way they move over your lips all soft and warm— honestly it always amazes you on how gentle they feel, you'd expect them to be rough upon looking at the mysterious man, for someone who appears so stern and unreachable on the surface, he uses them just the right way, within a precise rounding, soft and in an exact difference to his rough, hungry thrusts eliciting the sweetest whimpers off your parted lips.

blade plushes his digits into the flesh of your thighs, and you’re feeling the twitch of his erection against your walls as you swallow him up greedily when he thrusts up, your hole clamping down, needier and sweeter, fucking his thick girth against the tightness of your cunt and gathering all your gooey slick on his length, messing himself up with another layer of your liquids.

"you're beautiful." blade whispers, lips tracing over your cheeks, "so fucking beautiful." as both of you are moaning into another's mouth while swallowing each and every new whine which followed afterwards— voices dripping, your cheeks flustered because of the way he was handling you despite it sll, strings of his rough, hasty pumps spurring you on.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[aventurineswife]

Okay, but how Jiaoqiu is going to be with someone who enjoys spicy food and is very VERY tolerant to it? Like, they have little to no reaction to the dishes where one bite is enough to cause even toughest to ask for water, meanwhile they just: "Hm... Not bad, could add more spice though." *Adds extra spice*

Spice Is the Soul of Life

Summary: While preparing a fiery stew of your own creation, you share an intimate and playful moment with Jiaoqiu. As the two of you challenge each other’s tolerance for heat, the shared experience sparks a deeper connection, revealing mutual admiration and kindling an unexpected bond.

Tags: Jiaoqiu x Reader, Cooking, Slow Burn Romance, Playful Banter, Spice Tolerance Challenge, Tender Moments, Found Family.

Warnings: Descriptions of spicy food and intense heat (potentially triggering for readers sensitive to food or spice-related content), Light suggestive undertones of romance.

A/N: this lowkey sounds like me ngl...🧍‍♀️

The aroma of freshly simmering chili paste wafted through the air as you stirred a bubbling pot of stew, the crimson liquid glistening ominously. It was a dish of your own creation, a concoction so fiery that even the most daring food connoisseurs would hesitate to try it. Yet, to you, it was comfort food, a beloved indulgence that reminded you of home.

Behind you, Jiaoqiu’s soft voice broke the silence. “That scent… Sichuan peppercorns, dried ghost peppers, and…” He tilted his head slightly, his fox ears twitching. “A hint of fermented chili bean paste, isn’t it? Quite the combination.”

You turned to see him standing in the doorway of your shared kitchen, leaning lightly against the wall. Despite his blindness, his eyes, half-hidden beneath his lashes, seemed to glow in the dim light. His presence was both calming and commanding, a blend of healer’s warmth and strategist’s precision.

“You caught all that just by smell?” you asked, impressed.

“Of course,” he replied with a soft chuckle. “A refined palate starts with a refined nose. Though I must admit, the intensity of your spices makes it quite easy to identify.” He tapped his chin lightly and made his way toward the counter, his movements fluid despite his lack of sight.

“You say that as if you couldn’t handle it,” you teased, placing a bowl of the stew before him.

Jiaoqiu’s lips curved into a sly smile as he took a seat. “I’m not one to back down from a culinary challenge, especially one involving spice. Let me be the judge of its ferocity.”

You raised an eyebrow, handing him a spoon. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

With a graceful motion, Jiaoqiu took a spoonful of the stew, blowing gently on it before tasting. For a moment, he paused, his expression unreadable. Then, a slow, satisfied grin spread across his face.

“Rich, layered, and delightfully numbing,” he murmured, savoring the heat that spread across his tongue. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Really?” you asked, surprised. “Most people would be scrambling for a glass of water by now.”

Jiaoqiu chuckled softly, his bushy tail swishing behind him. “Did you forget who you’re speaking to? I was raised in the Alchemy Commission. We specialize in potions that burn as they heal. My tolerance for spice is… considerable.”

Your eyes lit up with a mischievous glint. “Oh? In that case…” You reached for the jar of extra chili oil and added a generous dollop to his bowl. “Let’s see how considerable it really is.”

Jiaoqiu’s laughter was warm and unrestrained as he stirred the added spice into his stew. “You’re a bold one, aren’t you? Very well, I accept your challenge.”

As he took another bite, you watched closely, expecting even the slightest sign of discomfort. Instead, Jiaoqiu’s expression remained serene, though a faint flush rose to his cheeks.

“Hm,” he mused, setting his spoon down. “Not bad… but I think it could use a touch more Sichuan peppercorns to balance the bitterness of the ghost peppers.”

You stared at him in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I assure you, I’m not,” he replied, his tone light but sincere. “In fact…” He reached for the peppercorn jar and added a sprinkle to his bowl, stirring it with practiced ease. “There. Now it’s perfect.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “I guess I’ve met my match.”

Jiaoqiu smiled. “And I, mine. It’s rare to find someone who shares my appreciation for spice, let alone someone who can surpass me in resilience.” He paused, his expression softening. “It’s… refreshing.”

You felt warmth rise in your chest, one that had nothing to do with the spice. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It is,” he said simply, his voice carrying a sincerity that made your heart flutter.

The two of you continued to share the fiery stew, the spice creating a shared experience that seemed to burn away any barriers between you. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of the kitchen and the heat of the dish, you felt a deeper connection forming—a bond as enduring and intense as the flames you both so loved.

As the evening wore on, Jiaoqiu leaned back with a contented sigh. “You know,” he said, his tone contemplative, “spice is much like life. It burns, it numbs, but it also awakens. Perhaps that’s why I’ve always been drawn to it.”

You nodded, understanding his sentiment. “And sometimes, the hotter it gets, the more alive you feel.”

He turned his head toward you. “Exactly. And with someone like you by my side… I think I’m ready to face whatever heat life throws at me.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Careful, Jiaoqiu. You might make me think you’re a romantic under all that wisdom.”

He chuckled, his laughter as warm and comforting as the stew you’d shared. “Perhaps I am. Or perhaps… I’ve simply found someone worth sharing my fire with.”

[iamzer0]

Yᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ Pʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ Bᴜᴄᴋʏ Bᴀʀɴᴇs ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴜᴛᴀɴᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

T/ᴡ: ᴘᴀʀᴀɴɪᴏᴀ, ��ɪᴅᴅɴᴀᴘɪɴɢ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴀɴᴅ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ᴀ ᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋᴅᴏᴡɴ

Your breath hitched as the lights flashed an ominous red, he was here.

You heard blood curdling screaming in the hallways, your body stilled, terrified.

Your fight of flight response started to take hold as the gravity of this situation set in.

You looked around frantically trying to find a place to hide, finding nothing you ran to the thick metal door, tugging on the handle desperately, your foot kicking the door.

You screamed as loud as you could, desperate to be let out.

Lose tears slipped from your eyes as you thought about your nearing death.

The ‘asset’ had gained a mind of his own, he naturally would want revenge, sparing nobody not even the innocent.

Then the screams stopped, you then heard heavy footsteps coming down the hallway.

You started full on sobbing as you backed into the farthest wall from the door, you went to the floor pulling your knees to your chest.

You held you hand to your mouth trying to smother the sound of your sobs.

The foot steps stopped just outside the door of the room hydra had trapped you in.

The door came crashing down by the hand of the winter soldier.

You backed further against the wall in fear.

He didn’t say anything, he just stared at you.

His eyes staring daggers into your soul, making you sob harder.

He walked towards you, crouching down to your level.

His hand reached up to your face, you instinctively flinched away.

He touched your face, wiping your tears with such an uncanny gentleness.

His hand moved your hair away from your neck,

In one swift motion a syringe full of unknown liquid was injected into your neck.

You let out a gasp, as the liquid started to take affect.

You felt insanely sleepy, you tried staying awake, but you couldn’t stop your eyelids from closing.

You flashed in and out of consciousness, you felt yourself being picked up, in a way that can only be described as gentle.

As you flashed in an out of consciousness, you heard screaming, and the sound of blood hitting the wall.

You woke up slowly, blinking away the sleep from your eyes.

You saw an unfamiliar ceiling, your head slowly turned to examine your surroundings.

You instantly regretted that action as pain shot through your temple.

You looked around at the bland room, it looked almost abandoned.

The walls littered with small cracks and tan stains, the singular window had bars, the door was a standard wooden door but it some how seems ominous.

You reached up hand to rub your temple in an attempt to relieve the pain, you got up slowly trying to keep your balance as you stumbled towards the door.

Before you could reach the door it abruptly opened, startled you lost your balance catching your sled on the bed post.

It was him.

You felt your blood run cold.

“𝘸-𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵.. 𝘢𝘮 𝘪 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳����..?" You asked growing panicked.

He didn’t say much but he basically ignored your question, while telling you the rules you had to follow while staying there.

You became less panicked and more confused as he raddled off the rules.

Your mind started to wander back to your days trapped in the hydra base.

You had met the ‘asset’ before, several times in-fact.

You were healer, so you saw him often.

He was quiet and always stared at you.

You thought he was strange, especially when he was there 24/7 getting healed by you.

One day he came in, his wound was pretty bad, but as you examined it you started to realize that the wound was too neat, too precise, this could only be possible if you did this to yourself.

But why would he wound himself on purpose?

As you were lost in thought wrapping your mind around everything, you were brought back to reality when he snapped his fingers in front of you face.

“𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨...?" You asked confused “𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭?" he said ignoring your question.

He brought his hand up to your hand, checking you for a fever.

“𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬." He says reaching into your pocket pulling out a pill bottle.

"𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘪 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘸-𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦, 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘨𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦.." you say mustering up as much courage as you possibly could.

He just shushed you, slowly but gently pushing you back down to the bed, giving you a pain med.

Despite your need for answers, you couldn’t help but fall asleep anyway.

Living with him was strange, in the beginning you were terrified walking on eggshells around him.

But you knew that if you wanted to escape you would need a very calculated plan, and to have a good plan you needed to be strong mentally.

Bucky was still silent but was more talkative than the soldier.

He saw himself as a father figure to you, you were young and needed guidance. That’s his thought process.

He was constantly terrified that hydra would catch wind that you were alive and try and come after you.

He was so paranoid that y’all basically slept in the same room.

He would wake up in a cold sweat, turning to look to see if you were ok.

This happened so often it got to a point where you would have to sleep in the same bed so he could he could get some sleep.

Bucky was a sweet guy at heart, he treated you right, but his constant paranoia was really off putting.

Now the soldier was a different story.

If you thought Bucky was possessive you haven’t met the soldier yet.

He wouldn’t come out as often because Bucky had much more control but when he did he basically latch himself onto you.

You could barely move because he was holding you intensely.

The soldier loved your presence, you made him feel like he was at peace, he saw you as this angel sort of figure who was there to give him peace and comfort.

You soon pieced together why the soldier used to harm himself to get healed, it’s because he wanted to be around you.

So he did what ever possible to be constantly near you.

Bucky had taken away many things from you, because you had started trying to escape by any means necessary.

You were crafty, using anything you could get your hands on to escape.

You were going to escape no matter what.

I hoped y’all liked this one! I’m trying something kinda new tell me if y’all like it. I hope y’all have an amazing day love you all! Bye bye(˘･з･˘)

[melodic-haze]

sub yae miko.. x dom raiden ei.. x afab!reader muahahah (can i be 🐆anon please haze👉👈👉👈)

FUCK HI

I'm pushing my needy Miko agenda bc let's face it she NEEEEDS to be pampered. Left alone constantly for SO LONG??? Yeah no she needs some TLC IMMEDIATELY❗️❗️❗️

Well. It doesn't actually have to be TLC, considering how she's basically DARING the two of you to go fast and hard, to fuck her relentlessly to the point where she can't handle any more. And really, you can!!! Especially Ei, considering just how powerful this woman is

The union between the three of you is as if past, present and future entertwined—you are a tangle of limbs and a mix of love and lust and longing and every carnal emotion that only you three could ever experience with such intensity together. Miko in between the two of you, drooling and moaning like a cheap whore rather than a shrine priestess as blasphemy escapes her lips and worships someone like you....but in the same breath she's still praying, worshipping the Archon in front of her, so surely she's still in 🤷‍♀️

I had a crisis about Ei's genitals once upon a time and now I think she can just. Swap them out 😭. But like listen imagine. Ei manhandling Miko, her nails digging into her curvy hips as she plows into the fox envoy relentlessly, stimulating currents of electro travelling into the pink-haired woman with such control and precision that only the Electro Archon could ever achieve

You could feel the remnants of the shocks that Miko's receiving as well from her tongue inside you—its length elongated due to the power inherited by her species—as she eats you out with a certain thirst for you that one cannot quench so easily. You're sat on her face, pussy displayed for her to eat and she eats you GOOD as you grope her chest and tease and twist her nipples. And when she stops moving your mouth as Ei hits her insides in a particular way or the electricity coursing within her shocks her still, just give her tits a slap and grind your cunt into her mouth and she'll be reminded that you need tending-to too

And the best part about it all? Both you and Ei are singing Miko praises; she's taking the both of you at once and she's doing it so well, your little kit is so very pretty underneath the both of you, looking all ruined and debauched with lipstick smeared on her lips and marks covering every inch of her soft skin. And it all gets to her head to the point where her hips buck up and she cums, clear liquid squirting out of her pussy and covering Ei's body

Doesn't mean you'll be stopping there though—neither you or Ei have stopped, and the way Miko's still eating you out as she rocked her hips showed that it was FAR from over :3

I'm so cold and I'm horny as hell my bad if none of this was coherent LOL