#Viktor Hurt/Comfort

[colour-me-katie]

The Umbrella Academy ideas that are stuck in my head (part 2): Training

A fanfic idea where Klaus was involved in his siblings trainings cause Reginald saw he wasn't making enough progress in is own and "You must contribute somehow Number Four". But no one knew what each others individual training involved cause they hated taking about it. But one day after the not-apocalypse or whatever the conversation gets brought up and one of them mentions that Klaus was involved in the their trainings and they all are like....wait he was in mine too. And Klaus is like "yeah, I always preferred your trainings over mine" Then they ask Klaus what his training was and if anyone else was involved but he doesn't want to tell them about the mausoleum or how he later found out that Reginald used to kill him/let him die and time how long it took him to come back.

Luther (I'm not really sure how to include Klaus in training for him yet)

Diego's training included having him throw knives and things at various targets until his hands ached. Then Reginald wanting him to practice curving the projectiles so he made Klaus stand in front of a target (cause he knew Diego had a "weakness" for Klaus and also that Klaus couldn't die, not that he told anyone that) and made Diego throw knives at him. Later upgraded to Reginald throwing the knives and making Diego try to stop or repeal them. And he messed up sometimes and got so upset at hurting Klaus but Klaus is just like "Don't worry Di I trust you not to hurt me on purpose" and "It's okay Di, it's just a scratch". And Klaus just got used to the pain and build up a high pain tolerance.

Allison's training included rumoring over and over until her throat hurt. But she needed to rumor someone for Reginald to see the effects and how different wording and even languages changed the results. So Klaus got picked cause he was the best at/knew the most languages so he could understand (maybe because of the ghosts). And Allison kinda hated doing it to him but was afraid of Reginald and wanted to prove herself so she just made Klaus do a bunch of things. And Klaus got used to the idea and feeling of his body and mind not really being his own and kinda just dissociated after a while.

Five's training included practicing jumping until he felt like passing out. Then one day Reginald wanted him to practice with another person and chose Klaus. And Klaus got so dizzy and sick the first time he threw up so Reginald forbade him from eating on Five's training days cause "I will not stand you making a mess Number Four". Klaus didn't tell anyone and when asked why he doesn't eat sometimes he just said he wasn't hungry. Later Klaus thinks back on this when he is living on the streets and is already familiar with the feeling of hunger.

Ben's training didn't involve Klaus because it was too dangerous even for Reginald. But Klaus was always there when Ben was finished. And he would drag him to the bathroom and clean him up and then they would cuddle under blankets together in Ben's bed and Klaus would talk about anything and everything just to distract Ben from thinking too much about the Horror. And sometimes Ben hated when his stomach was touched cause it hurt or he was afraid that the Horror would just react without his control but other times when they would cuddle, Klaus would lay his hand or even his head again Ben's stomach and for a moment Ben knew how much Klaus trusted him and how much faith he had in him and in that moment it made Ben feel safe and in control.

Viktor obviously didn't have training like the others but he remembers when he would learn a new song and finally be able to play it through without messing up and wanting to show Reginald or his siblings but was afraid they wouldn't care. But Klaus would come into his room sometimes and listen to him play and he would sit on his bed and fall asleep. Viktor admits that at the time he thought Klaus was just bored and it hurt that he never listened to the whole song. But present Klaus says that he wasn't bored but that Viktor's room never had any ghost (unlike his other siblings who became murderers/haunted way to young) and his music was so beautiful and peaceful. That Viktor's room was safe, that Viktor was safe. And feeling safe was something Klaus rarely felt as a kid but in those moments with Viktor he was able to relax and actually sleep.

Anyway I just want a hurt/comfort fic with Klaus and his siblings.

#the umbrella academy #tua #the umbrella academy netflix #klaus hargreeves #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #viktor hargreeves #fic rec #hurt/comfort

[nichenarratives]

Bittersweet

An Obscure Oneshot

Inspiration art by: Tracy J Butler

The night is stiflingly still, interrupted only occasionally by a poorly concealed drunken hiccup or the murmur of cabbies working late, ferrying the conspicuously intoxicated home before the local police can lock them. The street lamps have long been lit, the oil burning low in the city smog, illuminating narrow pools of cobbled streets in hazy orange light.

Mordecai is used to the dark; his job - both past and present - demands discretion and secrecy, making the cover of night perfect for his needs. There's no better time to assassinate targets, equalize grudges or raze a competitor's warehouse to the ground than while the pillars of society slumber. The night is his armour and often, his advantage.

Tonight isn't just another job, however. Tonight is personal.

Apartments are always harder to break into. Not only does one have to find a way into the building but also the correct unit, all without being heard or seen. Thankfully, having lived within the city for over a decade, Mordecai has a vast pool of experience to draw upon, making this house call just as easy as any other assignment.

Rather than breaking into the lobby, he finds a window on the second storey to squeeze through, likely left open to quell the scent of mold and mildew infecting the walls. It's a revoltingly familiar smell, one that calls forth memories the tom would much rather leave forgotten: his mother crying on the stairs after Hannah passed in her arms, suffocated by the fungus in her lungs…

Uncomfortable emotions swell in his chest, a swift reminder to squash them down. Focus, he chides himself. Now is not the time for sentiments. Wrinkling his nose, he gets back to work. Retrieving the lock pick kit from his coat, he crouches in front of his target's door. Mordecai dare not put his ear directly to the grimy wood, but in the serene silence of the night, he doesn't have to; the click of success is almost deafening in the tiny hallway.

He slips his tools away and with a hand on a gun concealed within his jacket, steps inside.

Mordecai pushes the door barely wide enough to slip through, aware its rusting hinges would creak if opened a crack more, then closes it almost soundlessly behind him. There he pauses, large ears poised for any movement or threat, but greated only by the strained, heavy breaths of an injured man sleeping roughly in his favourite chair, the tom allows himself a second to relax.

As wide eyes adjust to the darkness, they scour the room in its entirety. The apartment is in worse shape than predicted; crusting cups, plates and bowls amounting to days of use and a pile of untreated bandages that smell suspiciously of puss are the worst offenders. Bacteria notwithstanding, a number of magazines are scattered aimlessly around the man's feet and a broken radio sits dejected in the darkness on the windowsill, its cogs on full display for all to marvel at.

With ears folding back and a disgusted curl of his lip, his gaze shifts to his target. The hulking ginger bobcat wheezes in the armchair, legs propped up on an ottoman Mordecai doesn't recall being previously present. His eye patch rests on a side table, and a heavy blanket across his lap has been tucked meticulously under the armpits, turning the once intimidating man into a rattling, cozy burrito.

Viktor grimaces with every breath, occasionally pausing to hiss through grit teeth before exhaling to begin the cycle anew. Seeing his old friend in such a state - and knowing he is the direct cause of his pain - raises unwanted empathy to the surface. This is why he doesn't try to make friends out of accomplices; loyalties shift, people die, plans change. Mordecai sighs and releases the butt of his pistol.

It's easier not to care, or you end up visiting old allies in the dead of night to check on them, forgetting they're an enemy.

All he can deduce tonight is he feels… something. It's not the burning anger of betrayal or frustration with a job gone awry. It's not even akin to the irritation he feels surrounded by unintelligent morons at the Mirabel Hotel. Those feelings all burn in his gut, devouring his patience, simmering below the skin until he extinguishes them. This is a solid weight in his chest, immovable and unforgiving. Guilt…?

In truth, Mordecai doesn't know what he should feel at that moment. He's gotten so good at suppressing natural emotional reactions, those that make it to the surface are often expressed in the same manner; frustration or anger, either at himself or the cause of distress, and an unending need to control it before it gets out of hand.

Mordecai scoffs silently at the idea. Why would he feel guilt, when he expressly told Viktor to retire? When he re enforced his message with a swift shot to the man's good knee? I practically autographed his retirement slip, he thinks as he stares down at his former friend, but his glare doesn't return. He can't seem to form it. If the obstinate bobcat had simply compiled, he wouldn't be in critical condition.

The reasoning is indisputable, yet the leaden feeling in the sharpshooter's gut remains unchanged, suffocating and nauseating all at once. Mordecai removes his pince-nez and rubs his eyes roughly, the beginnings of a migraine starting.

His composure is slipping, the monochromatic tom can feel it. Taking a deep breath, Mordecai straightens his posture and holds it for a few heartbeats, then releases the breath slowly. Focusing on the air leaving his lungs cements the man back in the moment. A sharp mind swiftly rifles through possible next steps, and by the time his glasses are back on his muzzle, Mordecai has a plan.

Not wanting to get his clothes covered in unidentifiable filth, the tom shrugs off his suit jacket and carefully lays it over the back of the cleanest looking dining chair. Detaching his cufflinks, Mordecai stows them away in a breast pocket for safety - the last thing he wants is to leave behind evidence of his visit - before donning his favored black leather gloves and getting down to the real dirty work.

He's got a lot to do before sunrise.

oOoOo

He doesn't remember finishing his task. It had been early in the morning - the sun had already kissed the horizon - when the tuxedo started his last piece of clean-up. He recalls being up to his elbows in soapy water, leather gloves replaced with rubber to keep the residues from touching his skin. One of them springs a leak, but he perseveres until…

A heavy thunk on the head startles Mordecai out of slumber. He first gasps, then retches as he inhales a thick cloud of dust. Another thunk and incoherent yelling in his left ear. More filth and cobwebs clogging his airways. He scrambles to get out of 'bed' but instead falls over the arm of the wingback chair he'd evidentially passed out in.

A hearty smack to his backside and Mordecai yelps, swiftly righting himself, an embarrassing tangle of limbs and fine fabrics crinkled from a night's sleep. He desperately tries to brush the dirt from his head, frantic hands messing up his usually coiffured hair and whiskers. He doesn't even notice the fourth swing until it sweeps within an inch of his side, to which Mordecai jumps another pace away from his assailant and reaches for his holstered firearms.

His shoulder holsters are gone, as is his jacket.

It's enough of a surprise to bring Mordecai securely into the present; neither his holsters or jacket come off unless their owner feels secure. Green eyes squint and attempt to focus without spectacles, which were also abandoned somewhere around the wingback last night, to find his attacker is a fuzzy orange lump flailing some form of bristled stick between them, loudly cursing in Slovakian.

The night prior comes back in an instant. Mordecai snuck in to check on his friend, only to find the place in disarray, and couldn't bring himself to leave without cleaning up first. He'd removed his jacket and holsters for the added flexibility, rolled up his shirt sleeves and got to work tidying the room; moving the disgusting old bandages to the tub to soak in bleach solution, picking up the magazines, then washing the dishes before leaving them to dry in the rack.

Underestimating the severity of slobbery, he didn't complete the last task until almost five in the morning, whereupon he dried his hands before taking a seat in the wingback he used to favour for a short rest. Intending to be gone before the angry Slovak awoke, he'd felt a little calmer about his former friend's unfortunate situation after helping, so much his eyes had begun to droop. He'll assume his Mrs Bapka or Miss Pepper assisted. I need only vacate before he wakes.

Except the familiar environment, coupled with an old friend's presence after months of working with the imbeciles Mr Sweet employed, has killed his exhausted body to slumber.

Now, I'm coated in…. He can't help it; Mordecai shudders just imagining what was on that broom. His tail puffing up in disgust as he turns on Viktor, his usually plain facade is splintered by the angriest expression he can muster while chronically squinting. "You oaf! You've ruined this suit with your… your perennial mote collection!"

His vision is too fuzzy to read the bobcat's expression, but Viktor launching the broom at his head communicates the sentiment effectively. Mordecai raises his hands to defend himself and grunts when the wooden handle rebounds off his bare palms. Damnit! I need my glasses. Why did I take them off?

"You ruin good knee!" Viktor roars back and grabbing the nearest item off of his side table, throws it at the other. The reminder of his past transgressions simmers Mordecai's anger a little even if his expression remains fierce, but gives him enough pause to allow the magazine to slap him square in the face before flopping to the floor. "Vork fine with one knee, vork vell. Now, can't even climb stairs!"

"In my defense, you were supposed to retire," Mordecai retorts swiftly, then flinches back as Viktor attempts to pick up the end table in his rage. Thankfully, with his lungs full of holes, the Slovak can't lift it off the ground and it only rocks precariously before settling again. Mordecao decides to try reasoning with the hulk of a cat again as he fumbles around for his pince-nez. "I told you I was leaving, Viktor. I warned you it would be distasteful. If you'd just listened-"

"I listen, and tell you no," the old Slavok asserts through grit teeth. "Then, you take guns! Give to farmers! I have swiss cheese lung thanks to you! No climb stairs naow, thanks to you! No help in bar, thanks to-"

"Victor?" A familiar young voice asks through the door. Both men freeze, their gazes snapping to the worn wood as the knob jiggles in its housing. When the door doesn't budge, Miss Pepper knocks a couple times, fast and worried. "Are you okay? Is there someone with you?"

Large green eyes snap to Viktor the same moment his gaze returns to the tuxedo tom. They stare a long moment before another attempt at the lock has Mordecai in motion, blindly snatching up what he can locate - his holders in the coffee table, jacket over a chair - while acutely aware of the single eye burning a hole in his back. He still can't find his specs when another familiar voice pipes up. "Miss Bapka has a spare under her flower pot. I'll go grab it."

"Okay. I'll stay here," Ivy responds softly, and there's a short pause while Mordecai is pulling on his boots before another knock and a worried voice. "Rocky's getting the key, Viktor."

With it being light out and Viktor's apartment up on the third floor, jumping from a window isn't an option. He'll be seen or worse, break his leg and get caught. Neither Lackadaisy or Mirabel staff can know he was here; both would question his loyalties, based on the fact he cleaned instead of killing the bobcat after breaking in. I'll have achieved nothing, besides alienating former cohorts. They can't find me. I need to hide.

Still without his pince-nez, Mordecai is forced to navigate the small apartment from memory, passing close enough to Viktor for the old cat to grab his collar. There aren't many places to hide - the bedroom is too close to the front door, the bathroom could potentially be used by a visitor - but the tuxedo cat knows of one. Quiet as a mouse, he slides open one of the pantry doors and slips inside, squeezing his slim frame between said door and the shelves.

Almost as soon as he pulls the door closed, the front door springs open. Through the crack, Mordecai watches Rocky launch himself inside with a yell, shoe raised over his head and eyes darting about the room wildly. A moment passes and he straightens, looking confused as Ivy walks past him. "Does it…" He pauses, scratching his head with the sole of his shoe as he finds the words. "Look cleaner in here?"

"Maybe Mrs Bapka cleaned some," Ivy says as she steps carefully over the discarded broom, raising a brow at it as she balances a small cardboard box in her hand. From his current angle, Mordecai can't see the bobcat's face, but the young flapper feline looks quizzical. "I could've sworn I heard you talking to someone, though."

"Maybe he was talking to himself," Rocky suggests, his smile unwavering as he hops about trying to put his shoe back on. "I do it all the time! I have the best answers to questions I didn't even know I asked!"

Ivy ignores him and presents Viktor with the box, placing it carefully on his chest. "Rocky's taking me to university, but we stopped at the Little Daisy and got you your favourite pastry. Thought it might cheer you up a bit, you know… being stuck in here all day." She smiles a bittersweet smile, but when Viktor simply huffs sadly it fades. "I'm sorry, I wish we could make things better… if there's anything we can-"

"Hey, whose are these?" Rocky asks as he scoops a pair of glasses off the floor, straightening to scrutinize the missing pince-nez closely. Mordecai feels his chest tighten as Ivy leans in close too, frowning at the little circular spectacles. "Oh! I recognise those" she says suddenly. "Aren't they-"

"Old looking glass," Victor interrupts with an obvious lie before either of the two young visitors can say anything more. They both glance up to the orange bobcat, who holds out a meaty hand for the delicate eyeglasses. "Had made for reading. Vas joke with old partner. Ve match for vhile."

Rocky and Ivy share a glance, but the gray tabby hands the glasses over without fuss. "I didn't know you need glasses to read," Rocky states as Viktor neatly places them on the magazines now carefully categorized on the side table. "Oh, I remember!" Rocky explains with a snap of fine fingers. "They're like Ol' Serious Face's glasses! You know, the guy that-" he mimes a finger gun directly at Viktor's knee, and Mordecai can smell the sour expression it garners from Viktor. Rocky doesn't seem to notice it as he 'shoots' the knee with a soft click of his tongue.

Ivy swiftly pulls Rocky out of reach just as a huge hand goes for his neck. "Well, this was nice," she says brightly as she hurries Rocky towards the door, pushing him harder when he aims another finger gun. "But I really should get to school now. I wouldn't want to be late. Enjoy your cake!"

With that, the hurricane of youth exits the apartment and all falls silent again. Mordecai stays in his hiding place a little longer, to be sure they won't be disturbed again, before he finally slips back out of the pantry. From the kitchen, he can see Viktor staring down at his cake blankly, devoid of any discernible emotion, holding the little box with both hands.

It's a stark contrast to his earlier anger, and that heavy mass settles firmly back in Mordecai's chest seeing it. Like his mother's grief, this isn't something he can gloss over or fix, but it is his fault. That somehow makes everything worse.

He picks his way back through the living room, forced to run his fingers along surfaces and furniture as he nears them to avoid falling over, until he's so close to Viktor the cat is once again just colourful blobs. From here, Mordecai fumbles on the side table for his glasses and relieved when his hand closes on them, swiftly brings them to his muzzle.

Close up, Viktor looks like a caricature of depression, with pale lips drawn down so far it deforms his face and broad shoulders slumped towards his lap, apparently uncaring that the monochromatic tom is close enough to punch. The cake ibeads condensation from being recently removed from a cool display cabinet, the powdered sugar on top flavouring the air sickly sweet, as if openly mocking the bobcat's emotions by counteracting them effortlessly.

Mordecai sighs heavily, and not just because there's a large fingerprint smudging the corner of his glasses. "I'm sorry," he says, perhaps as earnestly as he ever has before, hand lingering above Viktor's shoulder but never making contact. It doesn't feel like a good time. There's so many feelings in his head, so many unnamed emotions and sentiments he can't make sense of, things he should say that Mordecai simply doesn't know how to express. "I should… I'll go."

He strides for the door, pausing for one last look at his only - now former - friend before letting himself out. Mordecai is fairly sure he hears the cake hit the door not a moment afterwards.

#lackadaisy #lackadaisy cats #lackadaisy mordecai #mordecai heller #viktor vasko #viktor lackadaisy #friendship #ex friends #hurt/comfort #hurt no comfort #angst #mordecai cant emotion #tracy j butler #inspired by art #art inspo #oneshot fanfiction #oneshot #fanfiction #fanfic #no beta we die like atlas may #obscure oneshot #obscure oneshots #niche narratives

[ficfanatictrf]

A Simple Misunderstanding

Summary : After the failed attempts on getting quality time and attention from your lover, you decide to try something desperate. Word Count : 7,228 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- You practically sprint back to your flat with the tightly wrapped package in your hand, clutching the delicate prize in your hands as excitement raced through your veins. The item in question had been ordered weeks ago and much to your dismay there had been delays with getting it. 

However, your luck had changed, you finally had the key part of your plan in your possession, the catalyst if you will, which meant that tonight you would finally have his attention. 

Rushing inside, making a beeline straight to the bathroom, the packaging was quickly ripped through and tossed aside as you held up the lacy garment. It was soft, the quality of the lace clearly being worth the cost that you had spent for such an item. Slipped out of your clothes and trying on the small article, you couldn’t help the small satisfied smile that grew on your face. 

This was not at all something you would normally do. With all your other lovers, sex had been something that felt like it was being rushed or pushed upon you, but with Viktor you finally understood how it felt to feel like there was disinterest from them. To be the desperate party for the other’s touch and attention.

So here you were, trying on something that honestly made you embarrassed and nervous but if this could earn you Viktor’s undivided attention for even a few hours, you would feel all this waiting and anxiety would be worth it. 

Since the two of you had gotten together, not much of your relationship had changed. You continued to visit him in his lab when you could and he still had yet to spend a moment of time with you outside of when you visited, but not for your lack of trying. 

You had first tried inviting him on dates, going with the stereotypical ones. 

However, he quickly shot each one down. 

A coffee date was a waste of time when it made more sense to pick it up and get back to the office to work, or better yet, just make coffee at the office. 

The movie date idea didn’t even get a rejection, just a scoff before he turned back to what he had been working on. 

So, you went back to the drawing board, maybe he was offended you didn’t offer dates that were tailored to him specifically? That had to be it...

You researched his fields of study, looking for events or lectures that you believed he would be interested in. It took you hours before you found a small lecture series, with very few seats available. It felt like everything was perfect when you read the description. It would be given in a different building of the college which would allow Viktor to both not have to walk far for it and it would allow him to get back to his work quickly. And it was on some new research that had been done pertaining to robotics, something that you knew you wouldn’t understand a word of… but the idea of spending some time just being able to quietly sit with Viktor, maybe even to hold his hand had made your usually rational side quiet as you purchased the tickets. 

You could already imagine it, spending an hour or two together with the chance of holding hands. Afterwards, hearing him excitedly explain what the lecture was about and talking about his own theories and ideas. Shit, you loved when he got like that and you could see the passion light up behind his eyes. 

Turns out, it had been a horrible mistake. 

As you had rushed into his lab, you weren’t even able to get a word in before he was cursing under his breath at your presence. 

That should have been your first sign to not bring up the subject, but you hadn’t, thinking your idea had been too flawless, that your surprise for him would right whatever had soured his mood that day. 

However, as you handed him the tickets, finally feeling pride at finding a date he would actually enjoy. It only made the disappointment unbearable as his eyes quickly went to who was giving the lecture. Pushing the tickets back into your hands, the inventor scoffed, insulted that you thought he needed or wanted to be lectured too on his own expertise. You hadn’t even been given a moment to explain before you were shown out. 

Since then, the times he would explain what he was doing to you, or excitedly tell you his theories all but disappeared. He seemed to love teaching you about this field of study, only now when you asked him to explain something he looked pained by the request. The disappointment that had only stung like pinpricks before was growing to be unbearable. Every new failed attempt only making you feel more and more unlovable. 

Was he falling out of love with you? Had he already fallen out of love and hadn’t had the nerve to break the news to you?

As you looked in the mirror, trying to not allow your own self esteem issues to pop up, you couldn’t help but worry. When you had confessed your feelings for him, he had seemed pleased, joyful even. He had showered you in kisses, half of what he said you would never know as it had all been in his mother tongue but from the joy on his face, with it being so similar to when he made a new discovery in his work.

However, slowly over the months, he had grown more distant. 

He loved you, right? 

He had said as much at the start, but when had he last said it? It felt like it had been weeks, even if he still placed soft kisses on your skin on his good days you couldn’t remember exactly when he vocally made his affections known. 

Oh god, his good days. 

Where he would seek your participation in whatever he was working on. Asking you to hold something that didn’t really need you to, but just so he could smile up at you as he worked. 

How he would laugh when a bit of oil would get on your face, wiping it clean before placing a soft and delicate kiss on the clean skin. 

When he would ask for comfort, pulling you to sit on his lap as he continued to work, spending hours like that with him peppering kisses on your shoulders and neck. 

His good days had made you feel so loved, so safe. 

Where he would make you tea at the same time he made his coffee, making it exactly how you liked it without needing to be asked too since he just remembered the way you took it. 

Or taking a pause from whatever new invention he was working on to ask you about your life, your work, your stories. 

With a gulp you slipped on your longest coat, still feeling completely exposed as the only thing else you had on was the lingerie beneath. However, you had been planning this, you were going to finally get your lover's attention. Pushing past your nervousness, slipped on a pair of heels before heading out. 

As you entered the building there were a few students coming in and out, but for the most part it was rather slow. Thankfully, that should mean that there wasn’t any deadline coming up that would have Viktor and Jayce stressed. 

Even as you tried to be quiet, the clicking of your steps announced your presence, Jayce already coming to greet you as you entered into the lab. He was halfway out of his seat, before a look of disappointment took over his features even if he tried to school them away. He had probably thought you were going to be Mel, seeing as heels were more of her thing than you own. 

“Ah, what a pleasant surprise” He grinned, though it wasn’t as bright as he normally would be. Unable to hide it, you smiled softly back at him, understanding the disappointment of thinking it was your lover only to find out it wasn’t. 

“It’s good to see you too Jayce, and don’t worry, I’m not offended you are disappointed I’m not Mel” You teased, said man only huffing before turning back to his own work. 

Directing your attention towards the other man in the room, you couldn’t help the small twinge of pain as you saw that he hadn’t even glanced in your direction, too buried into whatever he was working on currently. As you approached you could swear you saw his shoulders sink, your nervousness from before skyrocketing at the idea that this was another one of his bad days. 

“Vik?” You asked softly, just barely above a whisper, sitting down on the edge of his desk after being careful to make sure you weren’t blocking any of the papers he had scattered across its surface.  

Once again, not even a glance up at you, the man muttering under his breath equations as he continued to hastily scribble on the pages in front of him. You waited, not wanting to ruin whatever train of thought was happening. 

And so, that was how you ended up just watching him for almost an hour. And although the lack of response did sting, you didn’t mind. Watching how his mind worked was always a joy, to see how he would piece thoughts and ideas together, the moments of inspiration where his eyes would light up before he was racing to write it all down, it was one of the very first things that had drawn you to him. 

With a loud creak, your eyes finally break away from Viktor for the first time to look for the source of the sound. Jayce was up out of his chair, stretching before heading out of the room, probably to get another cup of coffee. If there was ever going to be a moment you tried to seduce your lover it was now. You could already feel your heart pounding, this was not something you would ever do, hell, you didn’t even know where to start when it came to this. 

Biting your lip, you looked back down at Viktor who was still mumbling away. The rational side of you knew this could blow up in your face, that when he was working he didn’t like to be distracted, but to be honest, you were desperate. 

Reaching over, you snatched the pencil from his hand, making sure to be quick enough pulling away so that his attempt of grabbing it back would be unsuccessful. 

“Vik, I know you are busy and I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t….important to me..” You started, trailing off for a moment as the full force of Viktor’s attention and now annoyance were directed at you. However, you had promised yourself you wouldn’t back down, you would see this through, even if your embarrassment begged you to stop. 

With a heavy sigh, you watched as he pushed his annoyance aside, reaching up to take both of your hands into his own. His touch was soft and warm, just like it always was. And as he squeezed before stroking soft circles into the back of your hand, you felt a little of the nervousness melt away. 

“I know lyubov, I know” Viktor hushed as he pressed a soft kiss to the back of your knuckles. “So this, eh, important thing you needed to discuss with me.” He pushed, golden eyes boring into your own as he waited. 

This was it. You told yourself, taking a deep gulp as you glanced nervously over at the door where Jayce had just left before turning back to Viktor. Pulling your hands free of his hold, you began to hastily and clumsily work on the buttons of your coat. 

“Since all my other ideas seem to be failures…I thought I would try something different?” At the first button his confusion was clearly visible, but as the second and third buttons were undone and the clear lack of clothing beneath was beginning to be shown, what you were doing finally pieced itself together in his mind.

You hadn’t even managed to get half of them undone before Viktor’s hands rushed to grab your own to stop them. His voice came out in a panicked whisper as his eyes darted between the door and the areas of flesh he had never had the pleasure to see before. 

“Wait, wh-what in the world are you thinking?” He gasped, swatting your hands away to work on putting the buttons back in place. 

However, you weren’t going to back down. You had to get his attention some way and you weren’t going to leave without at least trying.

“I wanted to see you, to spend time with you. Even if only for a few minutes, I want to…” You started, not being able to finish before Viktor’s own panic won out. If he was going to be busy with the buttons, you were just going to have to go around that. 

“Lyubov, miláček, I am not…you don’t…please tell me you are just wearing a low cut shirt, please” Reaching for the hem, you dragged it up your thighs, Viktor’s eyes snapping down as his hands stilled what they were doing. 

“Sračka” He cursed under his breath, unable to look away as you exposed your skin till the smallest hint of lace began to show.

“Why torment me in such a way?” You felt your heart jump at that sentence, excitement starting to coil slowly inside.

The buttons were forgotten it seemed as his hands fell to run up your thighs to run his fingers over the lace at your hips. At the contact you could see his breath hitch, a shudder running up his spine as he processed the knowledge of what exactly was happening before him. For a moment you thought you had finally succeeded, his undivided attention finally being on you for the first time in so long. 

“You need to go” 

And like that, it was all crushed. As he stood to his feet, one hand gripping his cane as the other grasped your forearm. You found yourself being hurriedly pulled towards the door. “Of all the blunders you’ve made-” “Blunders?” “-this is undoubtedly the most careless of them all” He finished, pulling you with him into the hallway. To make matters worse, Jayce was coming back down the hall, the apologetic smile on his face for interrupting only deepening your embarrassment. As he slipped past the two of you, you watched as Viktor glanced down at your attire once more before frowning. “Go home and change, your current attire was a immense miscalculation” 

“W-wait wait, Viktor please” You panicked, reaching for his hand to desperately try to steer the conversation in the direction you wanted, no, need it to go. 

Not even getting a moment to plead your case before you found the door roughly slammed between the two of you, the sound of the lock clicking into place just as the moment clicked in your mind. 

You were locked out.  You had never been locked out before!

Even when his irritation at disturbances was rather high, he never pushed you away so quickly. What had you done wrong? He seemed interested! Hell, you had thought he had been excited…only to find yourself thrown out?!

The embarrassment, shame and disappointment was crushing as you stood there, hearing the click of his cane as he headed back to his desk. Honestly, you weren’t sure what else to do. 

Did he even want to be with you? 

He had said your attempt was a blunder, a miscalculation. 

So, was this it? Your attempt to spend time with Viktor being your downfall, the cause for him to leave you completely?

Slowly, trying to keep from crying in such a public place, you proceeded on your slow walk of shame home. Figuring the next time you saw him would be when he broke up with you, ending the relationship before it had really ever gotten started. 

.

.

.

You hadn’t even spent time with him outside of his lab yet. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, what was that all about?” Jayce asked as he blew on the hot coffee in his hand, pulling his chair over to Viktor’s desk. “They looked rather panicked, everything okay?”

“Not even sure myself” He muttered, frowning as he realized that you must have taken his pencil with you without meaning to. It had been so out of place of you to make such a careless mistake. Surely you must have noticed that your clothing wasn’t present when you had left your home, even if he was thankful for the brief sight of exposed flesh, the feeling of lace against his finger tips. Those memories will easily continue to help him keep his own libedo under control, until you came to him about such things, he wouldn’t burden you with his needs. However, that still begged the question on why you had been there like that in the first place. As he looked through the drawer to his right he continued to talk, thinking over everything that had just happened with his lover moments before.

“Has Mel ever done anything so silly as to leave home in nothing but undergarments and a coat?” He asked, barely finishing his thought before Jayce was nearly choking on his coffee. “What? Still too hot?” He asked, flinching back as the larger man stood looking more than just a little shocked by his words, he looked completely flabbergasted by what he was hearing. 

“Of all the - brainless - pig headed - fuck Viktor, seriously? Are you this fucking dense?” He growled, pausing to cough as he paced around the office. “I can only guess you are asking because they just came in here exactly as you described and if so…gods, you are so infuriating sometimes!” 

“I would prefer you explain instead of insulting me” He couldn’t help but sass, turning with a huff as he glared up at his partner. Jayce stopped his pacing so as to march over and grab his tie, nearly yanking him out of his chair in his exasperation. 

“They were fucking seducing you, you boneheaded -” 

Viktor felt his heart drop to the floor, he felt his blood run cold, honestly he felt like he couldn’t breath. Seduced? You? 

“Wait-” 

“Egotistical-” 

“Jayce-” 

“Imbecilic-” 

“Stop-” 

“Moro-” Jayce wasn’t able to finish speaking as Viktor’s hands roughly covered his mouth in an attempt to get him to stop talking over him. He was desperate for a moment of silence, a moment to try and calm his panic. 

If what he said was true, if you truly had just came to try and seduce him, then he had done something unforgivable. 

That would mean that he had sent you away. Jayce was right, he must be stupid as to sent his love back home as they were trying to give him something he could have only dreamed about. 

“Stop talking for one second!” He begged, feeling his heart beating erratically, it felt like the ground was vanishing beneath his feet. Stumbling back, he collapsed into his chair, the things you had said starting to piece together in his mind. Your other ideas? Only wanting to spend time together? Looking back on some key moments with you, he felt like he was seeing it all in a new light that left him feeling sick to his stomach. 

“...and if Mel suggested you see a childish movie together?” He asked, already winching as Jayce’s exhaustion only seemed to increase. 

“That would be a date” “Or if…Mel wanted the two of you to partake in having coffee somewhere other than the office, even though the coffee here is perfectly adequate for wha-” 

“Another date” Jayce cut off, his exhaustion morphing into an exasperated glare at the man before him. “Or insinuate that you need to go to a lecture together to listen to Dr. Venkman. Honestly, could you think of anything more insulting?” Viktor began to rant, not seeming to notice the absolute look of disappointment on Jayce’s face. “To assume that I would need to learn anything from that man when I know far more about the subject than-” 

“Damnit Viktor, are you seriously so stupid?!” Jayce exploded, breaking Viktor out of his train of thought to be brought back to the present.“Get out of your own head for once, do I truly have to explain something so simple to you? To you of all people?” 

He had had enough. Rising from his chair to glare up at his partner, Viktor was growing tired of this conversation. 

“Seeing as I am clearly missing something that you yourself understand, it would probably be best to just tell me Jayce instead of acting holier than thou with your way of speaking” Viktor hissed, rising to glare at him in the eyes. 

This honestly didn’t have the effect he wanted, Jayce not at all caring if Viktor was starting to get upset or irritated with him. “I get it. You don’t like the Dr. but they didn’t know that. Anyone would have been able to see that they just wanted to spend time with you watching a speaker on a topic you are dedicated to.“ Once again that topic came up, Viktor catching onto it with a sickening feeling in his stomach. ‘Wanting to spend time with him’, they had said in the middle of trying to undress in front of him. 

Jayce sighed, before pulling Viktor to his feet and shoving the cane into his hands. “Go find them. We both know how they are, if they stew on this for too long this might just destroy them.” He hissed, pulling the smaller man towards the door before unlocking and pushing him through. 

“Oh, and I’m taking your keys, we’re done for the night” Wrenching the keys out of Viktor’s pocket, he quickly locks the door in the same manner that Viktor had only moments before. 

Left standing there, feeling almost shell-shocked at the truth being thrown in his face at just how much he had been hurting the one he cared most for. Slowly his mind was catching up, knowing he needed to head to find them as soon as possible. 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

As soon as you had returned to your apartment you had thrown yourself on your bed, just laying there as the emotions all rushed over you.

You were mortified, embarrassed and worst of all you felt utterly repulsive. Yes, you had never tried to seduce someone before, but to be so quickly rejected and ushered away? Did he find you repugnant? Slowly standing you looked at yourself in the mirror on the wall, searching for the reason he wasn’t interested. 

As your eyes traced over every flaw you could find you wondered what exactly had been the thing that disgusted him so. 

Your extra weight? 

The small scaring you had from different events in your life? 

Hell, your breath? You breathed on your hand, not noticing a smell as you could only feel your heart sink further and further. 

Viktor had rejected you. 

No amount of questioning his reasons would change that fact. Every date idea, every attempt to spend time together and now even sex. In all ways other than just agreeing to date you when you confessed, he had been rejecting you. All this time, had he just been too kind to break it off? That thought alone finally breaks the last barrier your tears had been fighting against, only being able to watch as tears streamed down your cheeks.

Have you been forcing your presence on him when he would have rather you were somewhere else? Was he only with you out of an odd sense of pity and kindness? 

A sob slipped past your lips, hands darting up to try and muffle the sound from escaping any more. You could feel your heart beginning to shatter, all the intrusive thoughts you had been fighting back for weeks just pouring in without a filter. 

Why had you even believed you deserved to be with someone like Viktor? A genius who was so far out of your league? He probably knew that, pulling away because he knew he deserved better. 

You were lucky he even allowed you to call him your boyfriend for the amount of time you had.

There was a knock at the door. 

The rhythm was off, like it was a nervous tapping as opposed to a confident declaration of their presence. 

“S-solnyshko….it’s uh….it’s Viktor….y-your Viktor '' A soft thud came from the door, it sounded like he had leaned against the door. Heavy panting was heard clearly even through the wood, almost like he had nearly ran to your apartment. But, looking at how horrible you looked in the mirror, there was no way you could open it now. 

“Lyubov please….open the door” He called, the soft jiggle of the handle breaking the silence before he continued. “I could hear your cries from the hallway my darling. I know you are inside. Please, just let me explain…” 

The jiggle continued as you fought yourself on what to do. Here he was, desperately trying to get to you like you had wished for. So why weren’t you moving? Why were you only silently crying on the floor as you stared at the door?

“Oh gods, Solnyshko, how could I have been so blind? It taking Jayce for me to see what a fool I’ve been” 

The jiggling slowly became more insistent before a hursh thud was heard on the other side. A long drawn out sigh coming from the man, it being clear from the thud that his head had fallen against the wood in despair. “Please lyubov. I’ll even…you can even beat me with my cane if it will make you feel better. Just let me see you” His voice was weak, pleading through the door. No matter the circumstance, you loved him and you couldn’t allow him to sound the way he did without doing something. It just wasn’t in you to ignore him when it sounded so broken. 

Slowly, opening the door by just a crack, you peaked out from your apartment at your lover on the other side still leaning against the wood with his eyes closed as he seemed to still be struggling to catch his breath. 

Sweat was dripping down his face and neck, hair looking a mess. Bits of hair were sticking to his face, while other parts looked like he had been pulling on it in frustration. He looked similar to the mornings where he had pulled an all-nighter where nothing was accomplished. 

Before you could utter a word, molten eyes snapped open to look directly at you. A range of emotions quickly swept through them as he took you in, first relief and adoration quickly being overtaken by regret and guilt.

“Oh, thank you.” Pushing the door open wider and reaching out, you were quickly enveloped in his embrace. “Thank you my darling, truly, thank you” 

Weakly you tried to push him away, to which he wouldn’t allow you to, arms tightening around you without any sign of letting go anytime soon. 

“Why are you even here?” You whimper, the tears only seeming to continue dripping down your cheeks to be soaked up by his vest and shirt underneath. You could have sworn that you felt him stiffen from the question, a small whine escaping from him before he pulled away enough to reach out and finally close the door behind him. 

It was like the one question you asked finally allowed the dam of emotions and questions to spill out, breaking the wall you had built up to try and not burden him with all of your feelings. “Why do you never want to spend time with me outside the lab? Are you embarrassed by me? Did I upset you somehow without realizing? If so, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” 

Choking back a sob, your hands worked their way to cling to the back of his vest, holding on for dear life as you could feel your body trembling from just how intense everything was feeling. Not even registering the insistent ‘no’s’ that were coming from him, too busy trying not to be drowned by the emotions ripping through you. “I understood when we got together that you would be busy, I’m not trying to blame you for that. You are changing the world, your work is far more important than me. I know that! I knew going into this that we wouldn’t spend time together like other couples, that I would always be second to your work…” At your words Viktor could feel his heart shatter. This is how you’ve been feeling all this time? He was desperate to say something, trying to gently pull you free so as to look you in the eyes, but you only tightened your grip as you sobbed into his chest. “But you rejected every date I’d ever proposed, this is the first time we’ve spent time together outside of your lab, and you didn’t even want me physically…what am I doing wrong? Why don’t you want me?” 

The ever perfectionistic part of him would have to sit out on this one, there was no way of him doing this the way he wanted to when you were breaking to pieces in his hands. “I do want you!” Being a little rougher than necessary to pull free and grasp your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look up at him so that he could look you in the eyes as he continued. You heard the clatter of his cane as it fell to the floor, unable to look as he kept your face directed at him. “You clearly have no idea how much I want you, how many nights I’ve spent being unable to sleep because of you. How guilty I feel after indulging in asking for your assistance with my work just so I can have you near me, knowing you have your own work and studies to keep up with. How shameful I feel every time I… every time I f-fall to my urges, imagining you in compromising positions. Dreaming of how you would sound, feel…and taste” 

At your silence, your eyes wide at the words he was saying, Viktor took this as his chance to explain all of his stupidity. He had to explain to you why each instance happened, to help you see that you had never done anything wrong in the entire time you had been together. 

“Listen carefully to me. Please. Let’s start at the beginning, you asked me to see that movie I replied no because I took it as a blunt question. That, no, I didn’t want to see the movie, however, looking back you were clearly asking in the hopes of it being a date. If I had understood your purpose, no matter what movie it was, no matter if it was the most uninteresting, unappealing…it could even have had incorrect calculations all throughout it and I would have made sure I was there.” 

The man was scrambling, talking as quickly as he could while peppering quick kisses over your face as he tried to make everything he was saying make sense. Although, pain was starting to creep into his features, no doubt because of the lack of any support as he continued to stand there pouring his heart out in front of you. 

“Then the coffee, again another question I didn’t fully understand. I took it as you just wanting to get coffee from that store, with me not understanding why you would want to pay for subpar coffee when we had perfectly good coffee at the lab. That was till now, when seeing it had almost nothing to do with the coffee. It was about spending time just sitting and talking, something I admit to longing for myself.” 

Over time, you had slowly started to feel more in control of your emotions, finally feeling able to speak as he continued to explain everything that you had been wondering about for weeks.

However, the moment you went to speak, your words were swallowed up by a desperate kiss, sloppy because of how hurried he had been to stop you from interrupting. 

“I implore you, allow me to finish and then you can say everything you need and want to. Just allow me to explain first, please.” Instead of just continuing, he waited, eyes of amber boring into yours as he refused to keep speaking till he had your permission to do so. Thumbs softly rubbing circles into your cheeks as he tried his best to keep his nervousness under control. 

Bringing your own hands up to rest on top of his, your voice came out as a whisper, croaky from the sobbing you had just been doing moments before. 

“Then may we move to the couch, your leg can’t be feeling the greatest right now” 

Pleading and desperate eyes softened, Viktor leaning forward to rest his forehead against your own. “There you go again, always thinking of me. Thank you, môj anjel” Viktor slowly released you, turning to his cane with a grimace, there was no way he would be able to easily pick it back up and with his leg already trembling he wasn’t sure he would be able to get back up once he bent down. 

“Use me” His eyes snapped back to you as you pulled his arm over your shoulder so he could lean his weight onto your frame. Already, the extra help was a blessing to his leg, the pain easing as he leaned on you without meaning too. 

Viktor could feel his heart overflowing with how much he adored you, how much he loved you. As you made your way to the couch, helping him sit down before being about to sit down yourself, he pulled you into his lap, arms quickly caging you against him as he nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck. After the panic and heartbreak earlier he couldn’t stop needing you in his arms, needing to feel you there, needing to feel like he hadn’t lost you. 

“M-May I continue?” He asked after a few moments of silence, sounding meek and nervous now that his adrenaline was slowly disappearing. His breath hitched as you pulled slightly away to look at him, fearing you were pulling away before steadying once more as you placed a soft kiss to his cheek. “You may” Resting your cheek on his shoulder you got comfortable against him as he began to continue where he had left off. 

After a shaky exhale, he continued, explaining how he had misunderstood your intentions when wanting to take him to the lecture, finally going into the details about why the two of them didn’t get along and why he had assumed incorrectly on your purpose when getting them seats for it. Never once did he ever make it feel like it was your fault, making it clear that going from your knowledge, you were being nothing but kind and romantic. 

It was once he started to veer the conversation towards what had happened only an hour or so ago that he paused. Sitting up, you studied his face to try to find some sort of hint to see why he had paused, only to struggle to hold back a chuckle at his face. His ears were bright red, embarrassment practically being written across his forehead with how pink his skin was slowly turning. 

“...in my panic I forgot you are still…” He trailed off, his eyes darting around the room as he tried to look anywhere but at your legs, where the coat had revealed some of the uncovered thigh beneath. 

“Believe me when I say that I find you breathtaking, captivating, and…eh, well, erotic. I have imagined scenarios similar to what happened in the lab today as I…take care of myself” Clearing his throat out of nervousness, he glanced over at you to see if you were disgusted- which when he didn’t see finally gave him enough courage to speak freely. 

“I was a fool. Looking back I have no idea why I thought you had merely skipped a vital step in your dressing process, couldn’t even fathom the idea that it had been intentional as a way to…seduce me” Shakely, his hand came up to your thigh once more, finger tips trailing the fabrics edge without any intention of moving the fabric out of the way to see more. 

“I hurried you out to keep myself in check. Having you there, alone, seeing parts of you I had only imagined till then, I didn’t trust myself to not behave unprofessionally. Which, afterwards, I was informed was your intention, so my actions were rather…counterproductive to your mission.” A soft chuckle escaped, it warming your heart to finally see him starting to act a little like his everyday self. 

Slowly slipping his fingers under the fabric, his touch ghosted across the surface of your skin as he found the line of lace once more. “...may I see you…all of you, please? I won’t do anything tonight, I want our first time to be planned, for me to make it special for you. But I can’t stop thinking about how you look under this outer garment, surely it is a vision.” 

And there it was. If you had a list of all your worries, fears, doubts about your relationship before he arrived - he explained and proved why each one wasn’t correct. Slowly you pulled away, a whine coming from the man as he lost your touch. 

“I suppose I could let you see it. I mean…I did buy it specifically for you” You joked, your hands working on unbuttoning the coat for the second time. Without any interference the process was much smoother and quicker, letting the fabric pool at your feet. 

At first, the silence was a little nerve wracking, however, the look on his face sent those thoughts flying away. He looked like a starved man seeing food for the first time in years, like a man seeing color for the first time, or the sunrise after years in the dark. 

Reaching out, he cradled your hands in his own as he took in every inch of you. “You said this was for me? This…masterpiece before me was bought with the purpose of me to see?” 

Gently nudging you to turn, you found yourself giving him a spin so that he could take in every angle of the lingerie you were wearing. 

As you faced him once more, you had expected to continue to see his enraptured face, but as you saw tears streaming down his cheeks you quickly went to comfort him this time like he had multiple times since he had arrived. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I said that enough in my explanation. I hurt you, I know that. I never wanted to hurt you, I never wanted to make you feel unloved. You are by far the greatest thing to have ever happened to me and for weeks you’ve felt alone, unwanted and abandoned.” 

“No no no, shh” You interrupted, not going to allow him to crush himself under the weight of his own guilt while you were there. 

“You explained everything, we both are new to this, new to relationships. I should have told you I was unhappy, you should have told me you wanted more. I should have told you I wanted more. This was a communication issue, nothing more.” “

You love me right?” You asked, receiving a hasty nod from the man in your arms. 

“You want to spend time with me?” A soft and wet chuckle before another nod. 

“You want to fuck me?” 

“Ach áno prosím” Was rushed out in his native tongue, it taking him a second to remember to use the language that you both knew. “Yes, please…” Clearing his throat in the middle of his sentence he glanced away, the blush creeping back to his cheeks. “But I would prefer to make love” 

“Sap” You teased, earning you a glare that softened only after a second to a look of endearment. 

“So then, are we alright? I didn’t lose you?” He asked, scientific eyes looking for any sign of what you were about to say being not the complete truth. If there was something else making you happy he wanted you to say it now, to allow him a chance to fix it. 

With a soft smile you shook your head, leaning your forehead against his own before you spoke. “You didn’t lose me. I am still yours, you are still mine. We will be alright” 

The silence between the two of you was comfortable, loving, both just enjoying the other’s presence in what felt like years. Only to be broken as Viktor proposed an idea that had suddenly popped into his head. It had been something that he knew Jayce had done in the past as a date, wanting to be the one to put an idea out there since you had been doing all the work up till this point. 

“Could I borrow your kitchen? I would like to make you dinner, I can’t promise that it will be the best, but it will surely be edible” He murmured, nervous and finally understanding now just how horrible to have your idea turned down was. He would need to do a lot of work to make sure that whatever emotional scars were still inside of you from his rejections were healed over time by his own actions. 

“Dinner? Hand made by one of the co-founders of Hextech? How could I say no?” You teased, getting up before going to retrieve his cane for him. 

“Yes, you should feel honored” The man countered, taking the cane with a soft thank you before getting to his feet. “As much as I would enjoy you to continue wearing only that- “ His free hand reached out to run his fingers over the surface from your neck down to your navel, running over skin and fabric alike. 

“I’ll go change” You intercepted, taking his hand in your own to place a soft kiss to the palm. “Can’t have you distracted while trying to cook” 

A small curl to his lips and a soft whisper of a thank you was given, before he made his way to your kitchen, already looking over everything you had and running through the few recipes he knew to figure out something worthy of you.  As you stood there for a second to just watch him, you couldn’t feel anything but grateful. And as you stood there watching, you witnessed as while looking through the cabinets he paused and looked down at the hand you had kissed only moments before, pressing a kiss to the same spot on his palm you had before calling out, not having turned to see you were still there.

“Lyubov, try to hurry, I fear I am already growing lonely”

#my first fic #viktor arcane x reader #viktor x reader #arcane viktor x reader #viktor x you #viktor arcane #viktor x reader arcane #arcane viktor x you #arcane viktor #hurt/comfort #ficfanatic #ficfanatictrf #reader insert #fuck I'm nervous #I've literally be staring at the 'post now' button for 20 minutes #Well fuck #my writing #my fic writing #my fic post #my fanfic #my fanfiction #my fiction

[xxashtreexx]

Sleepless

For a moment, curled up on his floor, Viktor didn’t notice anything else, just the coolness of the floor pressing into his side, seeping into his clothing.

The moment of peace, of fuzzy vision and grainy hearing, like everything was coming through one of the intercoms at the Academy.

Agony roared to life a moment later, and he coughed, and there was blood streaming from his nose and speckling at his mouth, and he gasped.

“Viktor,” someone said too loudly, making Viktor flinch away, even as knees entered his vision and there were gentle, big brown hands reaching to slowly prop him up. “Viktor, it’s okay, I’ve got you now.”

Do you? Viktor wondered. Was is possible to be taken care of, to rest, just for a little while?

But then, he had too much left to accomplish. Too much left to do, not enough time to do it, and the thought haunted his every moment, his every step, and to let go of that —

“Viktor, breathe.”

Automatically, his chest heaved, and then he coughed again. He needed to keep focused, right? Keep himself going, keep himself upright, keep himself alive.

He couldn’t move on his own yet. He would be able to soon; this wasn’t the first time this had happened, but the last time had been — well, it had been something like this, actually. Too tired and too strung out for too long, and exhausted now.

Jayce didn’t try to rush him, even if Viktor could feel his need to fix things, feel his desperation deeply and wondered if Jayce could bear to stick around through it all.

Viktor wondered if he would be there to say goodbye.

Jayce lifted him, apologizing at Viktor’s punched-out sound of pain, and Viktor wondered why until Viktor was braced against Jayce instead of ground and he slumped back. It was better, warmer, softer; Jayce’s hands gently swiped back sticky, sweaty hair from Viktor’s forehead while Viktor gasped for breath.

Viktor was sure Jayce was talking; no way he wasn’t, Jayce had always found his voice, speaking and guiding and leading other people, to be him at his best — when it was for people with a purpose. Viktor couldn’t hear, or maybe just couldn’t concentrate; for now, he reached one shaking hand up to grip Jayce’s wrist.

Jayce only tried adjusting them once; Viktor had made a noise like he’d been stabbed, and Jayce’s arms had quickly returned into holding him again.

It wasn’t until Viktor, mostly asleep and without much pain, was lifted up easily by Jayce did it occur to him that it was — not over, because it was never over, but the worst little hump of was done.

Viktor could rest, now, without fear of dying in his sleep, the reason he fought sleep as often as he could. He didn’t have the strength to ask, but Jayce knew, and his hand held Viktor’s once Viktor was laid down in his sheets, still trying to stay awake.

Jayce didn’t stop talking, not even when he pressed some pills — the deep muscle relaxers, the kind that knocked out Viktor out for a few days — into Viktor’s hand. He did pause, just a moment, when Viktor took them, apparently hearing the unspoken words, that this was too much, too big, and that he couldn’t carry this on his own.

But Jayce was there. He wasn’t alone.

Viktor closed his eyes, and waited for the medicine to kick in.

#arcane #viktor league of legends #jayce x viktor #jayce league of legends #jayvik #self indulgent #jayce talis #viktor arcane #jayce arcane #arcane viktor #arcane jayce #viktor #hurt/comfort

[xbr4in-r0tz]

These men are the definition of hurt/comfort

#arcane viktor #jayvik #arcane jayce #jayce lol #viktor lol #fanfic tropes #hurt/comfort

[cheeriecherrymain]

The flooding of the "domestic/relationship situation prompts that make my heart warm" prompts

(4 of 5)

#14 - repairing a broken appliance

(Inventor Viktor to the rescue! There is no way he DOESN'T keep the house running as a way of showing love. Picture the breakfast scene from chitty chitty bang bang - look up 'chitty chitty Breakfast Pickering' to find the video)

i stole the prompt and ran away with it in my mouth whoops

Viktor x Reader

-Viktor absolutely creates things to make your home life easier. You guys have been together since you were teenagers, and for your entire relationship, he’s flooded your home with gadgets and little machines to help you on the day-to-day. 

-Whenever he’s not working on something big, he’s working on something small; the little things that he knows will make your life easier. Even if it’s the most mundane thing, like an electric can opener, or a portable cooking burner. He’s probably upgraded all of the appliances in the house, too, to make them more efficient. More efficient, more flexible, more reliable. Just…better.

-And then he starts working on HexTech.

-He starts being home less. You wake up more and more frequently to the otherside of the bed being cold - either from him heading to the lab hours prior, or having not slept beside you at all.

-You know that this is a huge opportunity for him, so you’re not going to complain. You know things will calm down eventually. They have to, right? Your relationship is years in the making, so there’s nothing that can break it apart.

-You just miss him, is all.

-Until one afternoon, you’re preparing your lunch and the sink breaks.

-It’s not a big deal. You can wash the potatoes in the bathroom for the time being, but you still make sure to tape a piece of paper over the kitchen faucet, so you don’t forget that it’s broken and accidentally douse yourself with water.

-You’ll ask Viktor to fix it when he comes home that night.

-Except it’s past midnight when he finally drags himself through the door. You meander into the front alcove to greet him with a kiss, though you know he’s surprised that you’re still awake.

-He looks so exhausted after a long day. So worn down that you can’t bring yourself to ask about fixing the sink. If you had to go a few more days without water in the kitchen, so be it: you just wanted him to rest.

-It goes on like that for a while, though.

-Viktor always gets home late, always looks tired, you drag him to bed and spoon him until you fall asleep, you wake up the next morning alone.

-A week passes, and then two. By now, you’ve moved a drying rack into the bathroom, though you’ve been hiding it under the bathroom sink.

-Perhaps hiding is the wrong word. Viktor was completely free to open whatever drawers and cupboards he pleased, and the rack would be in plain sight were he to do so. He just doesn’t. He floats through his morning routine, still half asleep, and pays no mind to the details of your home.

-You don’t blame him for being busy. You don’t blame him for wanting to put so much energy into a new project.

-But you’re frustrated.

-So on the first day of the third week since your sink broke, you dig out a bag of his old tools. Things he rarely used anymore, having been provided with better versions since starting his work with Jayce. But they still work.

-You root through his old notes and textbooks, things he had insisted on keeping even though they no longer served a purpose. Or…they didn’t. Not until now. The design for the split faucet is easy to find, and thankfully Viktor had been thorough with his building instructions and part descriptions.

-It takes you…most of the day, honestly. Fixing things has never been your specialty, but with your boyfriends’ notes to guide you, you manage to do just fine. By eleven at night, the sink works again, and you’ve managed to repair the persistent drip.

-And then, as you’re standing back to admire your handiwork, surrounded by tools and little scraps of paper, Viktor comes home.

-Perhaps the light from the kitchen is what draws him in so quickly, perhaps not, but for whatever reason, he makes a beeline for you. He stops in the doorway, startled by the scene that greets him, and honestly as equally confused. But he connects the dots pretty quickly.

- “Did something break?” he asks, wandering into the room to give you a kiss on the cheek.

-You don’t want to lie to him, but you don’t really want to tell him the truth either. “Just the sink,” you say vaguely, hoping he’ll drop it. But in typical Viktor fashion, he always has more questions.

- “What was wrong with it?” he wonders, stepping away to inspect your handiwork. “It was fine this morning, wasn’t it? Surely the situation was not so dire that you couldn’t have waited until I got home tonight?”

- “What, is my mechanical prowess not up to your standards?” you tease, trying to deflect. But again, he is Viktor.

- “There’s a bit of damage around the tip of the faucet. How much force did you have to use to remove the filter? Surely it wouldn’t have needed that much - unless the sediment was dry? But you use this every day, so it wouldn’t be. It would have needed to be inactive for…” he pauses, turning to you as all the pieces click into place, “...for weeks. Love, how long has the sink been broken?”

-You chew the inside of your cheek for a couple seconds, before admitting to him that yes, it’s been a couple of weeks. “I was going to ask you when you came home the day it broke, but you looked so tired. I wanted you to get some sleep, instead of having to worry about the appliances. And I guess it just…kept happening.” You sigh deeply, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I guess I just didn’t want to be a bother. You’re doing such important work every day, so it’s okay that you’re not here as often. I know this has always been something that you strived for.”

-He’s so gentle when he leans his cane against the counter, and takes your face in his hands, slowly stroking the pads of his thumbs over your cheeks. “I’ve been neglecting you,” he says, though it’s not a question.

- “Nothing is more important to me than you are,” he promises, “And while your support is astounding, you must remember that we are a pair, no? I do appreciate you beginning to learn about mechanics, and I must say, you did a lovely job in repairing the faucet - but do not feel as if you have to, just because I’m tired.” He kisses the tip of your nose. “Do not hesitate to ask me when you need something - I will tell you outright if it’s not something I’m able to do. Alright?”

-You droop slightly, but nod in agreement at his request.  - “Good, sweetheart,” he smiles, “But you know, I’m home early tonight. With all the appliances fixed, we…have a little bit of time together.” He leans down to let his forehead rest against yours, while his hands slowly wander down your body. “If you’re not too tired from your day?”

#viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #viktor headcanons #domestic fluff prompts #also a tiny bit of hurt/comfort

[genuinehc]

Day 3: Seizure

Challenge: @mediwhumpmay 2023 Fandom: Arcane Prompt: Day 3: Seizure Tags/Warnings: hurt/comfort, medical whump, seizures, non-epileptic seizures, implied impending character death

“Viktor. Viktor. Hey, can you hear me? Come on, Viktor. I need you to-”

Viktor blinks and the voice calling his name catches. 

“Hey, there you are. Don’t move-” 

Viktor sees Jayce’s face taking up the majority of his field of vision. Jayce’s eyes are wide with worry and fear. His cheeks have tear tracks. His teeth-

“You have a piece of spinach in your teeth,” Viktor tells him. He tries to gesture, but his arms feel like lead. His tongue feels swollen and as he investigates the inside of his mouth, he finds that he’s somehow bitten his tongue. 

Jayce barks a laugh, relieved, half hysterical. 

Viktor takes stock: he’s on the floor of the lab. His head has more in common with an overripe melon than he would prefer. His back brace is digging in at an angle that tells him he was not in charge of getting to the floor entirely on his own. He smells piss. 

Jayce is barely holding it together.

“Jayce, I’m fine. I just fainted-” and god knows it’s not the first time long hours and his failing lungs conspired against him. 

But Jayce shakes his head, lip trembling. “It wasn’t- I think you had a seizure. Heimerdinger has medics coming-”

Viktor shivers despite the warm air, because he doesn’t need medics to tell him what he already knows.  

It’s getting worse. He’s getting worse. 

-=-=-=-

He goes to see his doctor, an older man with graying hair and a white beard, whose bedside manner cannot be described without resorting to negative integers. Viktor finds his exacting nature comforting in a way that Jayce - sweet, soft Jayce - can’t understand and Viktor has given up trying to explain. 

“We can do more tests to be certain, but this was a known possible side effect of the medication-” 

Viktor knows. He knew it was a possibility, knew that if it happened, it was going to be the beginning of the end. 

He closes his eyes, takes a deep, rattling breath. Then he holds up a pale, spindly hand to forestall the inevitable, but his doctor keeps speaking. “I’d work on putting your affairs in order sooner rather than later.”

He nods his understanding. 

It has to be now.

#hurt/comfort #medical whump #seizures #non-epileptic seizures #implied impending character death #viktor arcane #arcane league of legends

[dramioneasks]

I was thinking of this fic the other night. I know it’s going to be an older one, sorry if this is all over the place….it was during the war and D was on the Orders side. Him and H liked each other. There’s something similar to going into heat in ABO fics but no ABO and I don’t think they called it ‘going into heat’ and if they don’t have sx when this happens they die…Draco and Ginny go on a mission together and I think both Ginny and Draco go into their ‘heats’ and had to have sx. Ginny ends up pregnant but turns out it’s Harry’s but D and H have a falling out over it. Then a couple years go by and H still hasn’t gone into heat. I think she hears D and Pansy going at it at some point? And H has a relationship with Viktor. Anyway H eventually goes into her heat on a mission with D and they end up having to do it. Then rekindle. Can anyone help me out?

Anyone?

Edit: Thanks!

fangirlmother: Pyrocant by RZZMG Pyrocant - Chapter 1 - RZZMG - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own]

#anonymous #alpha/beta/omega #side pairing: draco x ginny #war #au #secret feelings #hurt and comfort #side pairing: draco x pansy #breakup #side pairing: hermione x viktor #pansy #ginny #viktor #harry #forced partnership #bonding #grangers

[inktailsaystuff]

Rose finds Mordecai Lackadaisy One Shot because reasons

TW: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

Rose stood at the st. Louis train station, clutching the letter she had stolen from her mother in her paws. The old worn paper, a reminder of what she lost. Her older brother Mordecai. Gone one night to never return. After years of trying to find him, she got a tip from someone that a tuxedo cat that fit the description Rose had sent out lived in st. Louis. A tuxedo cat with a permanently angry expression and green eyes. Rose's tail lashed, this was is it. Maybe she would finally find Mordecai.

St. Louis was miserable to say the least, however finding a room was easy. An old cat named Ms. Bapka had let her stay in her apartment, her neighbour was a terrifying cat missing one eye. Viktor he was called apparently. When Rose first said hello to him he seemed to do a double take when he saw her. He was gruff and spoke with a heavy accent, and once she had settled in she began her search.

She spent most of her days hiding under the guise that she was a man and watching cats as they passed through cafe's and restaurants. Her eyes looking over the crowds for a familiar face, bright green eyes and a white muzzle. However after one week of no luck, Rose started to lose hope.

Rose slammed her fist into the table, fury making her fur bristle as she cursed under her breath. Storming down the stairs she nearly ran into a young smoky grey cat.

"ACK!" She dropped her stacks of magazines.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry!" Rose immediately back tracked helping the cat pick up all her magazines off the floor. "I'm so sorry I wasn't looking where I was going and-"

"It's fine." The cat smiled regaining her composure. "Are you new? My name is Ivy." She extended a paw, her bright yellow eyes looking into Rose's green ones.

"Uh... yeah uh- I'm Rose." Rose introduced herself., subconsciously fixing her jacket.

"Huh." Ivy looked Rose up and down. "I've never seen you before." Ivy commented.

"Oh yeah. I'm- I'm just staying for a while." Rose's tail twitched as she spoke.

"Well it's great to meet you!" Ivy grinned, "Would you be willing to go for a cup of tea sometime?"

""Uh..." Rose stepped back, "I'm actually- um kinda busy right now."

"What are you doing?" Ivy pressed.

"Just uh visiting." Rose smiled awkwardly trying to escape the smokey cat.

"Great! I can show you around!" Ivy grinned grabbing Rose and dragging her off. "Hey Rocky! Can you start the car!?" Ivy called out to a tabby in a blue suit.

"Uh I-"

"Come on." Rose was pushed into the back of the vehicle. Ivy sat down next to her, meanwhile two cats sat up front. The tabby named Rocky, and a ginger who's name she was unaware of. "I can show you around and show you some of the most popular places." Ivy prattled on, that peaked Rose's interest. Maybe she could find her brother.

"A-Alright." Rose nodded, "Do you happen to know anywhere where one can get a good tea and french toast?" Rose spoke up remembering her brother's fancy pickings.

"Mhm." Ivy grinned, "Little daisy cafe. C'mon Rocky let's show Rose."

The cafe was small and quaint, once nearby Rose practically threw the door open as if trying to catch her brother sitting at one of the chairs. However to her disappointment no one was there. While Ivy prattled on about the cafe, Rose took it upon herself to look around for any trace of her brother. Perhaps a surface was too clean, or items were in perfect symmetry. However she found no trace that hinted to her brother.

"Uh are you looking for something?" The ginger she had now known as Freckle asked her as she inspected the counter.

"No." Rose answered a little too quickly. "I'm just looking around."

"You are... looking rather closely at that counter..." Freckle mumbled as Rose's nose was practically glued the smooth counter surface.

"Just looking." Rose flashed him a smile, an attempt to calm the ginger's nerves. "So. Have you met anyone that looks like me around these parts?" Rose asked very casually.

"N-No?" Freckle mumbled, stepping back. His round face contorted into an expression of confusion. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason." Rose smiled again, before going back to staring intently at the walls. Her ears pricked as she listened for rats and other vermin. Rose ignored the whispers between the two male's as she scanned the walls, her gaze landed on a framed picture. But her eye was drawn to the tuxedo cat in a suit. " MORDECAI!" Rose practically threw herself at the picture as if to make sure that she wasn't seeing things. Sure enough, the familiar angry expression and tall stature solidified it. That was Mordecai. In a heart beat she had turned to Ivy. "Do you know where Mordecai is?" She asked pointing at the picture.

"Uh? Mordecai?" Ivy stared, "How do you know him?"

"Not important where is he!?" Rose asked urgently.

"He doesn't work here anymore." Rocky grinned, "He works at the hotel now."

"What hotel." Rose asked, her gaze piercing through the cat.

"Hotel Maribel." Rocky grinned.

"Where is that." Rose was already storming out of the cafe.

"Why do you-"

"I could drive you?" Rocky interrupted Ivy.

"Deal." Rose sat in the front seat of the car while they drove, the world didn't exist to her anymore. She was so close. And this time she would not let him get away. If she was looking around she would have noted at how beautiful the hotel was.

However Rose didn't care, putting on her sunhat to hide her face, her eyes scanning the crowd. The other three sat nearby, but hidden in shadow something about enemy territory or whatever. Rose tapped her foot against the floor as she watched cats walk in and out. A woman with a bone necklace, a tall man with yellow eyes...

Rose's heart froze as she spotted him. Mordecai. Her brother stepped into the hotel looking aloof as ever. Rose didn't care how obvious she was. Standing up she stormed over in his direction. She watched how Mordecai stepped back placing his hand into his trench coat. But Rose was faster, grabbing him by his shoulders she glared at him.

"Mordecai." Rose snapped, her hat had fallen off. Her brother looked like he had seen a ghost, his tail bushed up as he stared at Rose.

"Who-" Mordecai wrenched himself out of her grip.

Rose placed both her hands on her hips, her tail lashing behind her. "Oh? Don't remember me?" Despite the fact that Rose had imagined their reunion to be happy, it was everything but that. Rose's bottled up emotions had decided to show, years of built up rage, anger, and resentment. "It's me. Rose. Your sister." She snapped, shoving one finger into Mordecai's chest. "You know. The sister you ABANDONED!"

Mordecai looked mortified, with one swift movement he grabbed Rose dragging her to a random room. "What are you doing here?" He hissed, staring at her as he shut the door behind him.

"Finding you." Rose crossed her arms, glaring at her brother.

"Why-Why would you do that!" Mordecai groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I told you-"

"I don't care what you told us!" Rose snapped, "Do you not know what happened after you up and left?" She could feel her eyes tear up.

"Rose..." Mordecai looked down at her as he fixed his pince-nez.

"I spent years looking for you." Rose snapped her voice cracking. "Years." She wiped the tears that spilled out of her eyes. "I- I thought you didn't love us anymore." She whispered.

"Rose..." Mordecai wrapped his arms around her, despite his hatred for physical contact. This was his sister. An exception to this rule.

"Why did you leave...?" Rose asked, as Mordecai soothed her. "Why did you leave us?" Mordecai refused to look her in the eye, instead staring straight ahead at the wall.

"Because..." Mordecai sighed, "I got... I got into bad business." Mordecai stroked her hair trying to comfort her. "And, I ran away because there were hitmen after me. And then... I could not come back."

"W-what?" Rose looked up at him horrified.

"I know." Mordecai looked away, "But then I joined Lackadaisy and a gang, and I couldn't exactly leave. So I stayed."

"Why- Why would you do that." Rose whispered.

"Money." Mordecai shrugged. "You needed the money,"

"You stupid furball!" Rose whacked him, "You idiot." She collapsed, "We could have... we could have just found a different job."

"I'm sorry Rose." Mordecai hugged her, "You should go home."

"I am not going back." Rose stubbornly looked up at him. "I'm not letting you leave again."

"Rose-"

"No!" Rose grabbed him, clinging to him. "I- I don't want you to go..." She whispered. "Please..." She clung to her older brother. The brother she had spent years trying to find.

#lackadaisy #mordecai heller #rose heller #viktor vasko #lackadaisycats #angst #hurt/comfort #fluff

[capsensislagamoprh]

CHA 1

It seemed he’d just boarded the flight from Zhukovsky to Charles de Gaulle when the flight attendants started opening the pull down shades. He’d finally fallen asleep, excitement racing through his blood stream when they came clanging through the aisle serving some strange breakfast designed to tighten his pants somewhere about the waste. They called it a croissant, served it with a hunk of plastic wrapped cheese, but Victor knew Christoph would have an aneurysm if he dared to indulge in the squishy, oddly damp roll.  Even the coffee was a dare, personally threatening his bowls as it lay ravage to his taste buds.

Trying to ignore the absolute disaster that was supposed to be food, Victor turned to look out the window. He could see the French soil, a stark mark of destination rising ever slowly upwards. As the plane touched down, he could feel himself getting excited. The taxing came with a prerequisite bounce before sliding to the gate and, as soon as the fasten seat belt sign went dark, people - especially those native to France - were  jumping to get off the plane. There was nothing got him to do but relax for the few minutes it took for those eager to be home to disembark. He used the time to get his thoughts together, then stretched himself into a stand before wrestling his carry on out of storage to begin his exit.  He was sleepy, the plane’s constant hum and his own excitement leaving him a little disoriented – and these feelings could last for a while.

Knowing there would be lines to wait in after he got off the plane, despite knowing the grand adventure waiting, Victor took his time. Out of idle curiosity, he looked over the seats around him, making sure that he was not leaving anything, but that if anyone else had, it would be found. You never knew what odd trinkets you could acquire when you took the time to open your eyes, he thought.

Then he started to go through the usual disembarking check. Did he have your passport? Wallet? A quick pat down confirmed he did, as well as a few hundred Euro, just in case. Nearly anything else could be replaced rather easily, but those first two things were essential. 

By the time he cleared customs, Victor knew he was in another country. Everything was immediately different. All the signs were in French, but fortunately for his still learning self, a few were in English as well.  What didn’t help was that the people who could speak both French and English didn’t seem to have time for people needing translations. He wound up lost in the bathrooms, and even those were different. Officers paced in long winding patrols, carrying automatic weapons, seeming to follow him around. He knew it wasn’t true, but it felt like it. Maybe that was the Russian in him, always looking for opportunities and always cautious.

Victor kept making his way from the plane through the corridors into what could only be called a mob of people at Border Police/Passport Control. He felt very wise for having used the facilities earlier. There was no cutting this line, and waiting would have tested his blatter in unsavory ways. Fortunately, he knew not to pull out his cellphone in this area, which he was thankful for as he watched those armed police come get a hapless tourist. He knew that, should they be allowed to stay, it would be without their phone and its camera. He was sure they would never be seen again.

After a while Victor made it to the front of the Tous Passeports/All Passports line, having spent the time watching a few unfortunate people reach the front of the Citoyens UE/Citizens EU line, only to be sent to the back of the all passports que. He greeted the  border patrol officer with a friendly “Bonjour,” then presented his passport. Typical questions followed. “Who are you traveling with?” (Myself.) “Where are you staying?” (With my friend in his apartment.) “How long are you staying?” (I am here for schooling and have a student passport.) They were pleasant enough, but they were border police – and they were serious. Before he knew it, the officer was stamping his passport, directing him to move past the booth, and head toward baggage claim.

Victor breathed a sigh of relief as he kept moving along following the signs for baggage claim Bagages – Sortie/Baggage – Exit and the obligatory symbol of the suitcase. It wasn’t long before he saw his familiar cases being gathered by a large, well manicured grip. His smile turned from plastic ‘please don’t shoot me mr. security man’ into a beatific heart of genuine relief. Christophe had cut his hair differently, grown his fashionable stubble into something as unique as his glitter infused eye liner.

“Christophe!” Victor called, waving his arm high. The man turned, his smile brilliant, and his eyes bright.

“Ah, Victor, mon ami! How many of these do you have?”

“Not too many. I shipped most of the things already.”

“Good, good. The place is already full of so many boxes and crates, I was wondering if there would be room left.”

“Fear not! It’s mostly furniture I can’t live without.”

“We could have got you things here. You did not need to spend so much to ship.”

“Not my drafting desk and work tables. They are special. I have sent my classic machine, and of course my tools and such I would not trust to a passenger plane. To unique.”

As they followed the signs to customs (douane, conveniently pictographed by an officer’s torso, cap on the head reaching into an open suitcase), Victor pulled one of his three massive suitcases, the other two were slung across Christophe’s back or pulled by him. Fortunately, they were able to pass through customs and out the door into the airport with no real fuss. 

Christophe led Victor through the park lot towards a cherry red Miata. Victor whistled long and low, then began to walk past it only to stop when the trunk popped open. Christophe stood there, putting the cases in, smiling with murth at the silver haired Russian’s dangling jaw.

“I… what? How?!”

Taking the last case and tucking it away, Christophe closed the trunk before slipping into the driver’s seat. “Sponsorship.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. You did not get a whole car on sponsorship. Did you?”

“I did. Get in.”

Victor wasted no time. As soon as he was buckled up, Christophe began the stop and go drive to his home.

—------------------------- CHA 2

It took several trips up three flights of stairs to get everything inside. They had gone grocery shopping after picking up some last minute items to help make the place feel more homey to the Russian. In retrospect, it may have been better to have put that off to another day. Victor didn’t regret it. The silk sheets and velvet comforter were the height of luxury. He was looking forward to his first night under a Parisian sky, in luxurious splendor. He was also looking forward to whatever Christophe was cooking, its heavenly scent wafting through the small apartment, urging him to leave his unpacking until after his stomach was full.

“What’s this then?” he asked, propping his chin on Christophe’s shoulder to stare into the pan.

“Chicken, seasoned to perfection in order to grace a bed of fresh leafy greens, topped with delicate fromage, sprinkled with fruits and nuts seasonally selected in order to tantalize and tease the palate when paired with the most sumptuous white wine, and vinaigrette,” Christophe smiled as he tossed the chopped bird bits with flair.

“Bozhe moy, Christophe! You are wasted on photography! Write restaurant reviews!”

“You just want free meals from fancy places,” his friend teased.

“Can you blame me?”

“Not really. Now, if you don’t mind, the wine needs to breathe.”

“Ah yes! Let me!” Victor took two steps to the wine rack taking up over a third of the counter, selected a bottle, sliding a look at Christophe. When he didn’t receive a response, Victor grinned. He’d selected correctly. Plucking the corkscrew from its peg, he set about opening the wine, and setting the table, eager for a good meal in his new home.

As they ate, they talked. Places to go, things they just had to see. But as it always did, it soon turned back to the source of nervous energy that kept Victor bouncing. “Paris College of Art… It's so…” vague motions lifted Victor’s arms upwards, waving in larger circles with every sweep. “Vy ponimayete?”

“Oui. Essayez de pratiquer votre français. Cela aidera à s'y habituer en privé avant en public,” Christophe smiled into his wine. Victor blinked, slowly translating. After a minute, he took pity on the silver haired man. “We need to work on your French, my friend. You can get by with English, but it lacks in translation. Jeni se qua is key, Victor. Key.”

“Very well, I’ll practice. Still, I am very eager to get my things in place. Make sure my leads are not broken, my paints not cracked. I am eager to see the inside of the school.”

“You have seen it.”

“But not as a student. Not officially.”

Christophe smiled. “Makes a difference, yes?”

“Very. Three weeks. We have three weeks to prepare.”

“You have three weeks. I have a fashion shoot tomorrow.”

“You do? Should I let you rest?”

“No, no. It is your first night here. We will stay up and be fools, drinking wine and paying for it tomorrow. We are young. One night of foolishness will be okay, I think.”

Victor smiled. As soon as the dishes were cleared and clean, they stood looking at the messy array piled in the halls and bedroom. “I do not know where to begin.”

“Start with the foundation. Let's sort the things that are furniture, put them in place, and then we can take our time emptying the smaller boxes.”

They managed the bed, though they both cried out swears and curses when it fell apart the first few times. The art desk Victor focused on with all his might as Chrstophe placed the dresser and its massive mirror where he thought it should go. Then the drafting table and body forms were tucked neatly on their stands, occupying a windowless corner. Shelves were piled high, waiting to be filled with fabrics, tools, and chachkies. Looking at Victor as he struggled with a back bar meant to support a powerful light, he considered. He’d taken his shower an hour ago, but it seemed this desk was Victor’s undoing. Taking pity on his friend, he tapped his shoulder. “It’s beyond late. Why don’t you take a shower? We can finish the desk in the morning.”

“You have to do that shoot.”

“Yes. How about this,” Christophe sat on the edge of the bed. “You shower. I’ll make your bed. We’ll have a good sleep. In the morning we’ll have a proper breakfast, and you can come with me to the shoot. Get your mind off angles and parts, and see a bit of France with me. We can work on the desk again when we get back. It will be easier with a clear head, yes?

Victor sighed, set the bar down, then pulled himself up with a stretch until he stood on his toes. “Fine. But I want to see you work, not just stand around. It will be my first look at the underbelly of the fashion scene.”

Christophe chuckled. “Very well. Now go. I want to touch those sheets.”

Victor stuck his tongue out with a cheeky wink, then headed through a small antechamber into the massive bath, its clawed foot tub an inviting luxury.

(more to come.)

#yuri on ice #yoi #yuri plisetsky #otayuri #otabek altin #victor nikiforov #otabek x yurio #yuuri katsuki #victor x yuuri #yuuri!!! on ice #viktor nikiforov #victuuri #hurt/comfort story #long form #original idiocy #AU #collage AU #we're in France! #because I wanna be #christophe giacometti

[visreallover]

You're Not A Monster

Pairing: Viktor Hargreeves x G.N. Reader

Summary: Viktor lets his insecurities get the best of him, leaving him to make irrational decisions, but you won’t have any of it. (Based on that one scene in Stranger things with El and Mike)

CW: Angst if you squint, insecure!Viktor, post-apocalypse, Like 1 swear word (let me know if I missed something)

Word Count: 939

The sound of rain tapped against the window as Y/n sat on the couch, slightly sunken as the couch embraced them, and the warmth of the dying fire. An empty glass of tea sat next to the now room-temperature cup. For the first hour of sitting here, They sat quietly. A book in one hand and the other continuously stroked the back of their cat, Kiara. The sound of her purring wasn’t enough to distract them from their worries.

Viktor was over two hours late.

After the apocalypse mess along with the other Hargreeves, Viktor has seemed distant. There were no longer any calm nights as the couple lied in eachothers arms, no more soft touches, nothing. 

The worry only increased when he began physically pulling away. There always seemed to be a distance between the two whether it was movie nights with the rest of his family or just them. Any meals together held an unknown tense silence. 

Y/n was brought back to reality when the sound of jingling keys tapped against the apartment door. Standing from my comfortable seat on the sofa, Viktor walked through the door, soaked from the rain outside. They could easily tell he was trying to be quiet, in order to not disturb his partner, but once his eyes landed on them, he became noticeably tense.

“Where were you?” Y/n question with both anger and concern in their voice. 

“Why are you awake? It’s almost midnight.” Viktor disregards the question, walking into the kitchen after hanging his jacket on a hanger.

“Exactly. It’s almost midnight! I was worried about you…” The end comes out in a broken whisper.

Silence falls upon us both, neither of them wanting to move.

Looking towards his feet, you notice the small puddle forming from the water. Sighing, Y/n walks to the bathroom, leaving him alone. 

Viktor stood in the middle of the kitchen, looking at his feet as he heard the shuffling of his partner in the other room. He was nervous as tons of questions swarmed his mind.

Are they upset? Did I make a mistake by leaving? Are they mad? What if-

His thoughts were cut off when he felt a soft towel wrap around his shoulders. Looking up in shock, he saw them averting eye contact, but carefully drying their boyfriend. 

“I don’t want you catching a cold.” Y/n muttered, as they pulled him to the couch in front of (what was left of) the fire.

They continue sitting on the couch, sitting next to each other but with a space between them. Y/n watches Viktor as he stares into the small fire, wrapped in a towel.

“Whats wrong..?” 

Viktor looks at Y/n for the first time in days. The sight of his eyes makes Y/n want to cry on spot. The distance became unbearable.

“Nothing’s wrong…” Viktor answers timidly.

“Don’t bullshit me Viktor. I want to be patient, I do but I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.” Y/n begs, desperate for an answer. “If I’ve done something, please tell me. If I said something, please tell me…”

Even after the two word answer, Y/n thought there was hope but any hope there disappeared. He looked at the fire in silence.

They sighed quietly and looked down at their hands. The ones that used to be held by their boyfriends but not anymore.

“Everyone looks at me… like I’m a monster.”

Y/n’s head looks up, waiting for him to continue.

“I… think they’re right. I am a monster.”

“Viktor… no, don’t say that…” Tears gather in Y/n’s eyes as they slowly turn their body, looking for any signs of discomfort in him. When there seems to be none, they slowly slide their hand into his. 

Viktor grasps their hand, not realizing how much he’s missed their touch. He leans into their arms suddenly, catching his partner off guard, but Y/n lets him.

After a few seconds, Y/n can hear soft sniffling below them. They slowly nudge them up to cup his face, wiping away the tears.

“I’m so sorry.” Viktor sniffs as more tears run down his face.

Y/n wipes his tears, shaking their head, “No, why are you sorry?” They ask quietly as they hold his face, almost as he were a glass doll.

“I pushed you away and I was awful to you.”

“No it’s-” They are cut off by Viktor shaking his head in disagreement

“No it was. It was horrible. I… I wanted to protect you. You’ve seen what i’ve done. I’ve hurt people, and I’m dangerous and-”

“-and you saved me too.’ Y/n cut him off before he would be able to break himself down further. “You saved not just me, but your family from the commission. You saved us from the guardians. Everything you’ve done was for your family.”

Viktor slowly became quiet as he took in their words. His tears came to a stop as the pair held each other for a while on the couch.

His eyes became heavy after a long, stressful week filled with self-hatred. He was finally in the arms of the one person he loved, and the one person who saw him as more than the ‘white violin’.

Before falling into the comfort of his brain he felt a blanket pulled on his shoulders as well as a weight at his feet which he would only assume was his cat. A warm pair of lips rested against his hairline and a warm voice filled his ears.

“You’re not a monster.”

#the umbrella academy #trending #viktor hargreeves #viktor hargreeves x reader #fanfiction #angst #x reader #fluff #oneshot #hurt/comfort #elliot page #Viktor Hargreeves #Klaus Hargreeves #Five Hargreeves #tua #the sparrow academy #lgbtq+

[truffle-draws]

From my complete fic: Müj Milacek, a Viktorxreader slowburn filled with hurt/comfort, humour as a coping tool, and angst (with a happy ending of course). I’ve used my OC for the drawing but feel free to picture the reader however you want!

Here is the link to the first chapter on tumblr (its also on wattpad and ao3):

#arcane #viktor x you #viktor x y/n #viktor x reader #muj milacek #heimerdinger #reader has magic #angst #hurt/comfort #happy ending #flirting #sharing a bed #no use of y/n #reader gets a nickname #its cute i promise

[nichenarratives]

Frozen Hearts

An Obscure Miniseries

In an attempt to raise Viktor for a job without freezing his tail off, Mordecai decides to drive in the thick winter snow, only to have an accident. Irritated his young triggerman continues to be reckless, Atlas orders him out of the speakeasy and into Viktor's apartment to recover, leading to some awkward conversations, situations and a whole lot of bonding.

1. Bad Idea

Winter takes Missouri in its icy grip early in 1922, suffocating foliage and freezing pipes with extreme prejudice. Even the evergreens seem to struggle, the ground frozen and barren around their roots refusing nourishment or water. Firs lining the streets begin to brown beneath the weight of snow and frost, only the most resilient trees retaining their green pine needles as February approaches, the felines of St Louis all desperately awaiting the thaw and arrival of spring buds.

Being temperate, the natives would say Missouri benefits from milder seasons than neighbouring states, yet Mordecai Heller would call it unfortunate to experience both. A native of New York, known for harsher winters and mild summers, most assume he would suffer more in heat. Unfortunately, equally affected by minor deviations from innate comfortable temperature thresholds, the shorthaired tom finds both to be unbearable in their own specific ways, especially the cold.

In the winter, he can't seem to wear enough layers to keep warm, not when conforming to his own strict requirements for propriety. There's only so many long sleeve vests and long johns one can squeeze beneath a suit before it starts to look awful, and Mordecai won't sacrifice appearance for comfort. His three piece, fleeced undergarments and a coat are all he will permit, but even with a scarf and hat, he feels the chill permeate his bones as soon as he steps outside.

Given the choice, the tuxedo would hibernate through the winter; woolen pajamas, thick blankets and copious cups of tea all take the edge off, as does attending a roaring fire in the hearth. Mordecai would wile the months away, reading through texts and classic literature until the snow and frosts were replaced with spring grasses.. if only he could.

A cup of tea and a blanket sound like heaven, he thinks as, with his collar turned up against the cold, Mordecai trudges through an inch of snow to the car. Unfortunately, the world at large doesn't share his hibernation sentiments and with the Lackadaisy Speakeasy blossoming in the years since prohibition, its liquor stores constantly need resupplying. Tes would be far more warming than that awful liquor…

An often hours-long round trip to trusted importers in a cold, metal death trap, Mordecai isn't fond of resupply runs. He'd much rather be burning storehouses to the ground, covering Viktor in raids or even the god-awful task of interrogations. Excessively long, silent road trips aren't exactly enjoyable, especially when his partner is crime has made it obvious he prefers the silence; and now, to top it off, he's going to be teeth-chatteringly cold while they're at it. 

Jamming the key into the car door, Mordecai unlocks the driver's side and slides behind the wheel, before taking a moment to blow into his gloves palms. He'd normally walk to Viktor's apartment a few blocks from the speakeasy and let Viktor walk back to get the car, but it's too cold; even inside the vehicle, he can't stop shivering, ears folded back to his head in an attempt to warm their icy tips and shoulders hunched against the frigid air.

When his breath seems to do very little to warm his hands, Mordecai gives up and guns the engine, hoping running the thing will create some warmth in the cabin. 

A terrible driver - having only ever been shown the basics in an emergency by Viktor, when he was too injured to drive and needed medical assistance - he grits his teeth when the gears grind as he forces the car into drive. A quick pause to check his mirrors, he steps a little too heavy on the gas and gasps when the car lurches forwards in his unskilled hands, squealing tires throwing up filthy snow as he careens out into the icy street.

It takes minutes to get to three blocks at one in the morning. Mordecai somehow manages to avoid hitting anything right up until he tries to stop. With no experience driving on ice or snow, he jams on the brakes and exudes a strangled murr of concern as the wheels lock and the car continues skating down the road at thirty miles an hour. When another attempt to brake fails and he rapidly overshoots his intended mark, the tom makes a final mistake; he swiftly turns the wheel.

The rear of the car swings wildly forwards, dispelling much of the forward momentum but carrying the vehicle onto its two passenger side wheels. For a brief moment, Mordecai is flying; clinging to the wheel as his feet are carried off of the pedals, eyes wide and mouth open in a silent scream while both gravity and basic physics seem to tip the car in slow motion, hat and pince nez in flight within the cabin.

Gravity wins; the Cadillac overbalances and with a distinct crunch, the wing mirror crushes against the asphalt, the entire right hand side of the car impacting on the road a millisecond after. Mordecai is haplessly thrown to the other side of the cab, wrenching his arms off the wheel and slamming his face, shoulder and right arm into the somehow still intact passenger window so hard, it shatters on impact.

The contraption skids across the cobbles, ten entire seconds of screeching metal and crushed glass piercing in an otherwise silent road until finally, it comes to a halt thirty feet away when it hits a light pole. Silence falls again; the light pole flickers and dies as if the sound were swallowed by the same darkness enveloping the scratched up, overturned car. Snow continues to flutter down around it, filling the skid tracks anew, coating the tragedy in white.

Mordecai daren't move; his head hurts, his face stings like a raw wound and he's seeing double, hazy vision swaying as if rocked by a non-existent breeze exacerbating his inherited myopia. Bracing a gloved palm on the broken glass beneath his face, the tom tries to lever himself up, but with his lower body wedged between the gear stick and dashboard and a leg bent against the cracked windscreen, his attempts are a futile waste of rapidly draining energy.

An overwhelming exhaustion turns Mordedai's sight black at the edges, dragging him away from consciousness. His arm dives way and he falls back to his burning shoulder with a weak whimper. Vaguely aware he can't feel his fingers and a weak attempt to move them, warm blood drips into an eye from an open wound on his forehead, turning his world an unnerving red just a moment before it fades to black.

~.~.~

The bobcat is attempting to fix a leaky faucet when he hears it; skidding tires, an ear-splitting screech of metal on tarmac, and a final crunch as two metallic objects collide outside. He pauses his work and looks towards the window, cracked just a smidgen for the luxury of fresh air despite the oppressive chill, contemplating going outside. 

With a palm splayed on the underside of the sink and his other clutching the wrench still in place on the leaking nut, it would be easy to go back to work like nothing happened. Having the window cracked might be the only reason Viktor heard it though, which means he may be the only bystander aware of an accident taking place. Normally, he wouldn't be so bothered; with the speed limitation on public vehicles - a limitation he'd effectively removed from the company car for illicit purposes - most people walked away from a crash with minor wounds, making bystander intervention pointless.

Unfortunately, he's also aware of the sub zero temperatures outside. Even as a bobcat, fully fleeced with a thick double coat for optimal heat management, Viktor can feel the cold seeping into his apartment through the window. If knocked unconscious or trapped within the vehicle, it wouldn't matter if the driver's injuries were minor; he could freeze to death in a quarter of an hour in this kind of weather.

Viktor closes his eye and sighing heavily, abandons the still leaking faucet, using the nearby armchair to rise to his feet with a grunt when his stiff knee complains. The cold is bad for his old joint, no matter how warm he seems to dress; his long johns, vest and woolen pajamas keep him adequately warm alongside his fur indoors, even with the window open.

He grabs a sweater off the sofa, then pulls on an overcoat and thick, leather boots, picking up a lantern along the way for good measure before he steps outside his first floor apartment and heads out into the icy night. The falling snow, expanse of white and empty streets momentarily stop him on the step, a litany of nostalgic memories of home assaulting his senses, but he shakes them off and treads carefully into the snow, lantern raised as he searches for the accident.

If no one is dying, he's going to be so pissed.

It takes a few minutes and a short walk to find it; a divot in the snow already filling up with fresh powder flecks, roughly the length of a car and extending beyond the range of his lantern. With a frown, Viktor steps into the divot and follows it back to an extinguished light pole, a Cadillac bent around the base almost exactly at the halfway mark. With the roof dented in the vehicle is almost comically banana shaped.

"Hello?" The Slovak calls into the darkness, holding out the lantern and turning up the gas, the yellowish hue making it hard to discern the car's actual colour. There's no reply, but he steps closer, walking around the back of the car for any sign of a hasty exit - a busted window, open door, blood on the frame - but finds nothing; if someone was inside the car when it crashed, they're still there. 

He treds through the snow towards the front of the car and sees a dark shadow crumpled against the passenger side of the vehicle, unmoving and not unresponsive. "Anyvone hear me?" Viktor tries again, but with no response, a bad feeling begins to swirl on his stomach. He almost doesn't want to step closer, but he does so, resting a palm on the upturned hood to shine his light on the crumpled figure. "Van't hel-?"

The bobcat's question dies in his throat when he's met not with a stranger, but the twisted, bleeding body of a familiar face; he assigned partner and coworker, Mordecai Heller. The snow around the broken passenger window is turning pink, while his contorted body is jammed between the gear stick and mahogany console, foot awkwardly braced against the windshield and arms in disarray around his head.

Viktor drops the lanturn to the snow, unaware of it toppling over, glass case protecting the flame within. Of all the things he'd expected to find - of the tragedies he could have borne witness to, attending this accident - the unconscious body of someone he cares about wasn't one of them. The feeling in his gut swiftly evolves part fear, conflicting emotions masked by a military-drilled compulsion to act quickly.

It takes a single strike for the compromised glass to shatter under his heavy boot. Glistening shards scatter, invisible in the snow except for the lantern's dancing reflections. Viktor pays it no mind and crouching down, reaches into the car to extract the smaller tom with as much care as he can, while still moving swiftly, well aware that stronger men have died of exposure after less time in blizzards back home.

Despite being manhandled in ways that would usually make him squirm, Mordecai remains limp and unresponsive as the bobcat pulls him from the wreckage. Glass clinks and falls from the tuxedo in shimmering, sparkling flakes, more still glistening in dark facial fur as Viktor draws him close to a broad chest and presses two fingers to his throat, holding his breath without meaning to.

Ba-bum... Ba-bum.

It's sluggish beneath chill skin, but there's a pulse. Viktor isn't sure if he's relieved or afraid, looking up at the empty street shrouded in white, not another soul to be seen. With no clear idea what to do beyond warming the tuxedo up and finding medical assistance, the bobcat shrugs off his coat to bundle Mordecai up, disconcerted that he doesn't complain or even flinch when obvious injuries are manipulated.

His best friend on the verge of death and swaddled like a newborn, Viktor draws the tom close to us chest and begins the three block walk back to lackadaisy. The nearest place he knows who have a phone to call a doctor, or a car he can use to drive out to Elsa, because he's not sure blankets and a warm fire will be enough on a freezing February morning.

#niche narratives #obscure mini #mordecai heller #viktor vasko #lackadaisy #lackadaisy cats #fanfiction #fanfic #tracy j butler #no beta we die like atlas may #hurt/comfort #vikdecai #viktor x mordecai #mordecai x viktor

[darklcy]

━ 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡.

✧･ﾟ: arcane masterlist *✧･ﾟ:* 

→ viktor x reader | Arcane

→ too many days spent apart, the two of you finally reunite. | 669 words | brief angst, hurt to comfort

→ breaking up the feed with a couple pieces i’ve written lately. requests are closed for now, but in the meantime, please enjoy ♡

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Waking up was never deemed unordinary. A normal action from most living beings, including him. Though his work schedule racked his body with slumber inside his lab coat, there were the rare times he’d wake up to his bedroom ceiling, soft sheets coating his body and leg brace tucked at his bedside. 

He wasn’t always alone. You were there, too. You made the bad days go away. Honestly, the statement’s factual: he noticed how the aches in his joints and shadows under his eyes faded when you were around. He believed you brought him to life, and without you he’d wither down to his bones until he was pure dust.

But awaking the morning after your promotion, finding himself alone in his bed, void of your warm body next to his, he grew cold without you. The everlasting weight in his chest suffocated his heartbeat. Was he even alive anymore? This reflection of his, the face with sickly pale pigment and purple hollows in his cheeks and eyelids, wasn’t him. This was an imposter. Another Viktor, replacing him.

Maybe this other Viktor can love you, too. 

Once news of his diagnosis spread to your place of work, a chilled prick pierced your chest, shocking a flash of heat all over your body. Nothing in the world could compare to a brilliant, loving man like Viktor. He was your mage, your scientist. No distance, or career, or blocks in between could deter your heart from his.

The floorboards stretched for miles beneath the soles of his feet. His body hunched over his desk with a heave, the Hexcore bubbling just in front of him. Eyes flitting between the syringe in his hand and his creation coming to life, he swooped in a deep breath and shut his eyes. Truth be told, he was terrified.

 He’d never been this petrified before in his life. His own invention brittled every nerve in his body, and each passing second it seemed to absorb more and more of its surroundings. He’d called it ‘adapting’, but after studying the device for days on end, days without sleep, he’d come to the rough conclusion…That perhaps he, too, had to adapt.

Lifting up the syringe, he exhaled just as the needle poked his skin.

…You burst through the laboratory door. 

“Viktor?”

A rush of blood poured into his senses, snapping him out of the pentagon’s hypnosis, and with a huff, he tossed the syringe to the ground, horrified at the possibility of what laid moments in the future had you not appeared. 

“Viktor.. Viktor, what are you doing..?”

You. You were here, now. You’re here, aren’t you?

Turning around in his stool, his weary chin lifting to face you, the worries and the heightened anticipation of seeing him again seeped through your eyes and dripped down your cheeks. Your arms wrapped around his waist to pull him towards you, his body rising up to stand properly. He didn’t waste a mere second to return the affection, his hands caressing the back of your head and spine.

“Oh, my love…”

He whispered into your hair, leaving a trail of kisses down the path of your hairline. You wept into his button down as he tightened his embrace, erasing any white space between you. 

He didn’t seem real. Your fingers spread out against his back to take him in, to feel the satin fabric of his shirt and the tangled ends of his hair. Stepping away the tiniest amount, you found his chiseled cheekbone in your palm. He was exhausted. Of what, you were scared to guess. Working? Living? Breathing?

His hand caressed your cheek, the pad of his thumb gently rubbing away the wetness in your eyelashes. 

“I miss you.”

You nodded into his palm, vacant hand coming up to envelop his wrist. “I miss you.”

No career could ever compare to the space Viktor occupies in your heart. You’d vow to him, and only him, that there was never going to be a time again where you’d be apart again.

◇─◇──◇◇─◇──◇◇─◇──◇

#arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane viktor #viktor x reader #arcane x reader #viktor x reader fluff #viktor x reader angst #angst to fluff #hurt comfort #arcane x reader fluff #arcane viktor x reader #arcane viktor x reader fluff #arcane drabble #arcane x reader drabble #arcane viktor x reader drabble

[xxashtreexx]

Sleep

Sometimes, the weight of knowing that Viktor will die too-soon weighs heavily on Jayce’s shoulders.

It’s in the late hours of night, when Viktor is asleep, weighed down by pain medication after too-long fighting it, that Jayce is forced to think.

Viktor is wasting away before his eyes; has been for the last few years. Jayce can still remember being young, the unsteady gait that belonged to Viktor but still steady inside. Filled with wonder. Confident of his path.

Sometimes, Jayce missed his own youthful arrogance. It had to be, to fall for Viktor, knowing the outcome. Believing he could stop it.

Not to say that Jayce wasn’t still just as arrogant as before. He did still believe he could fix — all of this. Everything, still right in his grasp.

That, that was foolishness. But when he looked at Viktor, he had to try.

Anything for the catlike, too-stubborn scientist who couldn’t take care of himself to save his soul. The same one who stayed awake with Jayce in the wee hours of night, just the two of them.

The intimacy of the moment had never escaped him, being the only two awake for miles, sitting in companionable silence, hands and shoulders brushing as they worked around and with each other on the technology that had been their home forever.

Jayce would do anything to keep that. So, he watched Viktor sleep his boneless sleep, and when Jayce could no longer keep his own eyes open, he closed them, reaching out to hold Viktor’s bony wrist, counting his pulse.

#arcane #poorly written #jayvik #jayce league of legends #viktor #viktor league of legends #jayce talis #fanfic #jayce x viktor #drabble #hurt/comfort

[justahumanbeingpersonthing]

I would love a moment in season 4 where they all like get matching umbrella tattoos (cause I'm pretty sure all their tattoos disappeared in the new timeline). But like this time it's more of like a bonding activity instead of branding. Or like they all get something unique to them but that's still a collective? Like something to do with their powers or something (since theyre gone)

I just want family bonding activities.

Edit: season 4 lmao not season 3

#the umbrella academy #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #viktor hargreeves #ben hargreeves #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #five hargreeves #tua spoilers #the umbrella academy spoilers #why are there so many of them #i vote that season 4 has no angst #or AT LEAST hurt/comfort #none of that hurt no comfort bs