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novacqnes · 2 years

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cherry // vi

summary: creating a new identity meant erasing every aspect of your past no matter how significant, and this included the person you loved most, vi.

warning: angst, brothels, unrequited love, suggestive language

word count: 3.2k

pairing: vi x fem reader

“cherry, someone’s here for you!”

a round purple bottle of perfume lay in your lap as you dabbed the sweet lavender scent onto the tips of your fingers, quickly rubbing it behind your ears and neck. you took a quick look at yourself in the mirror propped above, you were unrecognizable.

makeup heavily coated your face with a brighter foundation, darker eyeshadow and a bold lip. your hair was done up to the most extravagant level, it was held together by red ribbons bringing out the utmost irony. essentially you were a present, the layers of paint on your face meant absolutely nothing because within a few minutes it would all be off.

yet you adored the decoration, you loved emerging from the beaded curtains of the brothel looking like a doll. attracting many curious stares as onlookers admired you. you thrived off of the theatrics and secrecy within the brothel walls. it allowed you to learn just about everything regarding those in the lanes whether they’d set foot there or not.

it gave you purpose, you belonged there.

you slipped on your silk robe and mask going to meet your next client, as you passed by you mainly saw familiar faces. old time workers, recurrent ones and a few new faces but one stopped you completely on your tracks. as you passed by the room of one blue haired lady you couldn’t help but spot an all too familiar face slightly up ahead.

it couldn’t be?

you immediately noticed her fiery red hair, this time it was a lot darker and longer, with a familiar buzz at the side. she was sculpted with muscles that made her clothes fit snugly around her. additionally she had a new array of tattoos and piercings that suited her in the best way possible.

yet the one thing that confirmed the mystery person's identity for you were those clouded gray-blue eyes that now looked sharp behind the black eyeliner.

vi?

you had to be sure— you knew it was her. but you didn’t know what to say, where had she been all years and why was she here? the thought of approaching her crossed your mind but she wouldn’t recognize you, not like that.

the y/n vi knew was sweet- too sweet for her own good. she was too trusting of others and frightened of her own shadow. vi didn’t know cherry. cherry was a persona, a comfort, an act, and you purposely crafted her to conflict with every aspect of your old self.

you settled for following vi, trailing behind her by just a few feet. however subtlety was not on your side, as the click of your heels echoed throughout the hallway. vi took a sharp turn leading you down the other half of the brothel, an area that you preferred to stay away from but you had no choice.

“cherry?”

a familiar voice called slipping their hand around your shoulder. annoyed, you turned to tell them off when you realized it was a client, a top paying one at that.

“hey, what’re you doing out here?”

sevika looked at you with lustful eyes, as she admired your form. she stepped closer, her sculpted frame hovering over yours, you could feel the heat oozing from her body yet now wasn’t the time. you couldn’t be bothered with sevika’s games despite how much they rewarded.

“i was looking for someone, a new client.” you lied, your gaze diverting down the hallway as vi slipped away, again.

sevika chuckled, “new client huh? i thought you didn’t like working down here?”

she loved to rile you up, teasing was her main way of doing so. yet you couldn’t stop looking at the spot where you’d last seen vi. you needed to find her but first you had to get rid of sevika.

like clockwork you turned on your greatest weapon, cherry. a sly smirk spread across your lips as you pressed yourself around her muscular figure. you wrapped your arms around her neck forcefully pulling her down to your level.

leaning in, you whispered into her ear, “technically i’m not supposed to be here. however i have some business to attend to and if you could keep this between us it would be greatly appreciated.”

you ran your hands down her chest and abdomen stopping just above her pelvis. you pressed light seductive kisses into her neck, touching all of the right spots. you could feel her tense up against you as you wielded her pleasure to make her weak.

“and of course, your silence will be rewarded.”

her hooded eyes met yours exchanging a look of desperation but agreement. sighing she stepped back, her hands leaving your waist but not before one last look and remark.

“you’re a damn mystery cherry.”

once sevika was out of sight you sped down the hallway, turning the exact same corner vi did but she wasn’t there. instead you were greeted by a few hostile looks as you peeked through the beaded curtains. you decided to try a different area of the brothel, turning yet another corner with absolutely nothing.

convinced she’d vanished, you began to head back to your client when you felt a pair of strong hands slam you against a wall. your vision blurred from the impact, so much so that you could barely make out the face. the person pressed their arm to your chest keeping you bound when you noticed a small tattoo on the side of their face it read, VI.

“who the hell are you?” they spat.

your head began to ache, the person slowly restricted your air flow with the more pressure they applied. you mumbled something incoherent as small specks of your vision became clearer. you began to see slivers of red hair, pale skin and those beloved gray eyes.

“violet?”

her eyes widened as her grasp wavered but not completely. her mouth hung agape, nobody had called her that in years which made you even more dangerous.

“answer. me.”

you were stunned, the face of your childhood best friend coming fully into view. although you were terrified she was even more beautiful than you remembered. she was stronger, not an ounce of fear present but yours was evident. the only thing that hid it was the mask covering the upper half of your face.

“the mask, take it off.”

the mask was like one added layer of protection. without it you felt weak. it reminded you of the fragile version of yourself and you hadn’t spent years creating a new persona just for it to come crumbling with vi’s reappearance.

this was the girl that consumed you all throughout your teenage years, occupying every aspect of your being. despite not being that person anymore you felt those same unrequited feelings creep back in.

you peeled the mask from your face, revealing the detailed makeup under. upon first glance she hadn’t recognized you, the makeup did more than just disguise you, it transformed you. yet as the tension settled, vi looked into your eyes and saw something she hadn’t seen in years.

“y/n?”

you nodded tears threatening to spill. vi’s hostile grip turned into a tight hug as she wrapped her arms around you. you relaxed in her grasp taking in her familiar scent, she still smelled the same after all these years. she allowed her body to melt into yours, however you could tell she was hardened and it had something to do with her prolonged disappearance.

“how are you here right now?” you whispered, catching a glance of the large wheel tattoo etched into her skin.

“it’s a long story, i was in stillwater.”

everyone had heard about the horrors of stillwater. it housed criminals from both cities and did not discriminate. most people sent there were never heard from nor seen again but it didn’t take much to figure out what had happened.

yet what you couldn’t fathom is why? years had passed, but you knew better than to pry with questions. the simple mention of the prison made vi pull away and it brought you back to your teenage self longing for her best friend.

“i had no idea it was you, i wouldn’t have—“

“it’s okay, you were being cautious i get it,” you reassured.

her eyes traveled down your body, suddenly noticing the accessories and lack of clothes.

“you work here?”

“mhm.”

you prepared to defend yourself from judgement or deflect from any invasive comments but it never came. you were used to the shame and guilt that came along with telling people you worked in a brothel. the looks of pity coupled with the condescending remarks, it was like you were scum on the bottom of their shoes.

“i like it, you look different but it suits you.” vi chuckled, running her hand through her hair.

a warm sense of familiarity rippled through your body. her laugh, her touch, her voice you missed it all. you’d never really confronted how lonely you’d been since vi disappeared. you were so dependent on her, that you didn’t have many other friends besides those you made at the brothel but those weren’t real relationships, not the one you had with vi.

you loved her, more than you could truly fathom, she was your entire world. you’d do anything she asked even if it was dangerous in hopes that one day she’d love you back. and not in the way friends did but something more, something romantic.

“you know, part of me hoped you were the one running things down here.”

“me?” you snapped your neck to the side meeting her gaze.

she was always such a terrible liar. vi had many tells that you’d mastered throughout the years. her voice always got a bit higher and a stupid grin would spread across her face like she was trying to convince herself of her own lie.

you weren’t leadership material especially for zaun and vi knew that better than anyone. she’d tease you about it often, how you’d crack under pressure even at the smallest decisions. rather than confront her you ignored the comment but questions lingered on your mind.

why lie about it?

“seems like silco’s got that covered, have you seen the city? everyone’s addicted.”

her body language immediately shifted as she clenched her jaw, eyes darting to the ground.

“i’ve heard.”

this wasn’t at all how you’d pictured your reunion with vi to be like. you’d crafted this fairytale dream in your mind, one where vi would finally see you. the years she’d spent away would somehow bring her a sense of clarity, and the time you spent pining for her would be worth something.

“you know, i thought about you a lot while i was locked up.” she admitted, turning to face you.

your heart skipped a beat, were you hearing that right? your cheeks began to heat up under her intense gaze, you had to be dreaming.

“i thought about you too….”

you took a step closer, testing the boundary but vi didn’t pull away. something about her eyes hypnotized you, sending you into a trance. thousands of frenzied butterflies filled your stomach as vi took your hands in hers.

“being kept in a cell for hours on end can help you realize a few things.” she whispered, leaning into your neck.

you were completely up against the wall, vi’s body just a few inches from you. it was as if she was looking into your mind analyzing each detail. she was saying everything you wanted to hear. but she spoke as if she was struggling to, like the words weren’t hers.

you disregarded this thought though, why be picky? your best friend was finally confessing her love for you, maybe she was anxious? before you could think about it properly you blurted the words out.

“i love you.”

the words were repellent, to vi at least. she felt despicable lying to you. watching you fall deeper and deeper only made the size of her guilt double. she was a liar. how could she so blatantly lead you on, knowing how much you loved her and how much you still did.

she couldn’t bear to look you in the eyes as she got closer to your body, pressing herself against you. she looked down, her hands clasping at yours, almost like a cry for help rather than want.

she didn’t want to do this, she had to.

“i love you too, y/n.”

there it was.

the tension it built between the two of you. it was all you’d ever wanted— all you’ve ever desired but it felt wrong. vi didn’t look at you, not once, it was like she refused too. as she leaned into close the gap a voice echoed down the hall, stopping just a few feet away from you.

vi?

you’d seen her before, she was tall, had blue hair and was absolutely stunning. you could tell right away from her posh accent and demeanor that she wasn’t from zaun. but she knew vi a little too well. her gaze darted from your face back to vi’s, she wasn’t angry but you could easily make out the confusion and hurt.

“oh— im sorry, excuse me.” she stuttered, stumbling backwards.

the girl then quickly whipped back around speeding down the hallway she came. when you looked back at vi you could tell something had changed. the girl was gone but vi’s gaze lingered on the spot she once was, and there was something behind her eyes— longing.

for the few seconds she was there, vi looked at that girl in a way she’d never once looked at you, as if she were her entire world. your heart felt as if it would burst when she looked back, you knew the truth. she would never love you the way you wanted her too and the reality hit you like a bus.

“who was that?”

vi sighed, “it doesn’t matter—“

“don’t. don’t do that thing where you speak to me like i’m a child.”

vi’s hesitated, her eyes flickered between yours with nothing but desperation behind them.

“her name is caitlyn.”

caitlyn. the name echoed throughout your mind and it told you all you needed to know. hell, the way vi said it, told you all you needed to know. you felt like a fool.

“i'm such an idiot.” you spat, holding back tears, you refused to cry, not in front of her.

“y/n, please.”

she wasn’t begging for you, you knew that for sure. everything slowly began to click, why she complimented you, why she was about to kiss you. it wasn’t because she loved you, but because she needed something from you, information.

and while you weren’t sure what that had to do with caitlyn you knew vi felt something for her, you did know if it was love, or maybe something deeper that you couldn’t understand but you were aware she felt none of it for you.

“you used me.”

“y/n, i can explain just hear me out—“ she pleaded.

you yanked your hands from hers going to push her away but she wouldn’t budge. she gave those eyes, those stupid eyes, the ones that made your heart swell every time you saw them. they made you feel vulnerable like she was casting a spell over you but you wouldn’t succumb to it, not anymore.

“let me go,” you demanded.

“y/n, i love you.”

“no you don’t.”

vi cried, “please i care about you but—“

“you care about me?!”

you could feel the tears forcing their way through as your voice began to waver. it made you feel sick, you were strong, you had been for years and she was making you weak. all those years you’d spent crafting this false persona, the hours of rehearsal were not going to go to waste because of her.

you wanted to tell her off, to curse her out and make a scene— you would’ve done it to anybody else. but vi had this hold on you, so much so that when you looked at her you couldn’t say anything, even if she didn’t love you, you still loved her.

“i had to….for her.”

she didn’t need to say anything else, you knew what it meant.

“it was all a lie then, you didn’t mean any of it?”

you could hear the desperation practically oozing from your voice. you knew wherever cherry was she was laughing at the scene, probably mocking you. after all, how could you be so blind? to believe that vi would ever see you that way.

“i did think about you because you were my best friend but that’s all we’ll ever be.”

you nodded, sinking your teeth into your lip. that’s all you needed to hear, tears welled in your eyes as vi looked at you. it wasn’t with pity but remorse, yet it hadn’t really made much of a difference to you.

maybe you needed to hear this to put the final nail in the coffin. vi’s confession made it easier to say goodbye to y/n because she was the only thing linking you to her. other than that you’d destroyed any aspect of your past life that even made you think of her. now you could finally say goodbye.

a few seconds later another voice echoed down the hallway causing another pit to form within your stomach but it wasn’t sevika nor caitlyn but tristana.

“there you are cherry!” she called, “your client’s getting a bit antsy.”

“cherry?”

confusion spread across vi’s face as the small lady approached you. you hadn’t told her about cherry to be quite frank you hadn’t planned to.

“that’s you?”

“don’t look so shocked.”

“no i’m not.” she sputtered, “it’s—just when we first came we’d heard about a cherry. caitlyn was trying to find her so we could get information about silco.”

“looks like you found me.”

you turned back to tristana slipping the mask on your face as you readjusted your robe.

“thanks, i’ll be there in a minute.”

upon uncovering your new identity vi hoped you’d stay and help but the chances of that were slim to none and she knew that. she had a feeling that the moment you walked away, you wouldn’t just be leaving her behind but a part of you as well, and she felt responsible for that too. she reached out to touch you but you quickly ripped your hand away.

“i have to go—“

“y/n, please i need you.” she urged, giving you those eyes again. but this time your heart didn’t swell and you felt nothing. you could sense yourself slowly detach from y/n once and for all.

“goodbye, violet.”

you planted a small kiss on the side of her cheek not as an act of romance but to say goodbye. vi stood speechless as you walked away, the sound of your heels getting further and further. finally, you turned to look at vi one last time.

“and vi? don’t come back.”

#arcane #vi #vi arcane #arcane vi #arcane x reader #vi x female reader #vi x reader #vi x you #vi x y/n #arcane angst #vi angst #arcane fanfic #vi fanfic #violet arcane #arcane fandom #arcane fanfiction

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khaotic-neutrxl · 3 months

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Someday, I'll be looking down from a big stage

Forget all about the heartbreak

Look what I've made with my tears

When they see how far I've come

I'll sit back and laugh at all the things they said

All the tears l've shed, oh

Look what I've made with my tears

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lunedottir · 10 months

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ᅠ ᅠ ㅤ✧ ARCANE MASTERLIST (⁠⊙⁠_⁠◎⁠)

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ HEADCANONS ::

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ↳ Arcane characters if they found out your parents are mistreating you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ BLURBS ::

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ↳ Poking Sevika.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ONE SHOTS ::

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ↳ to come.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ MAIN MASTERLIST.

#arcane fluff #arcane angst #lol arcane #arcane lol #caitlyn x reader #ekko x reader #vi x reader #viktor x reader #arcane x you #silco x reader #vander x reader #sevika x reader

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cr4yolaas · 1 year

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I could write an imagine where reader likes viktor, but there's a thought that ""everytime I look at you, I feel my heart breaking, because I need you so desperately and you never realize."pleases

— inattentive . viktor x reader

synopsis . you’ve always adored your long-time friend, but he never seems to notice.

warnings . breakdown (??), crying, stress from school, hurt/comfort (emphasis on hurt), not proofread, i use italics too much

notes . i am so sorry this took so long for me to do 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 school and band have been stressing me out sm (ironic) this isnt my best work but ty for requesting!

friends since the beginning, you would call it. starting from your childhood in the undercity, to your positions at piltover’s academy, you and viktor were two peas in a pod. you can’t have one without the other!, people would say in reference to your long-time friendship.

you were happy with the mutual understanding and the tight-knit bond you shared with the man, of course you were. however, the nauseating feeling of your stomach bubbling up at the simple sight of his face, caramel eyes and chiseled bone structure and all, began to appear more and more and you couldn’t do anything to stop it.

a friendly coffee date. that was all it was. some small talk over hard black coffee and freshly baked croissants.

“. . .so, i decided to consult you about what i should do next. what do you think?”

you paused for a moment to pull yourself back to the conversation and remember what he was saying. “well, for one, i think your idea is great. it’s unique, well-structured, and isn’t controversial whatsoever. i can’t say it’s flawless, though. maybe replace the energy system with something like. . . solar power? it’ll appeal to your audience more while being convenient for all users.” your eyes floated to his hands, thin and calloused, drifting across ivory paper with a pen in hand, jotting down what you had told him in quick notes. “other than that, it’s great — beyond that, even.”

viktor rested his pen down and lifted his head to smile softly at you while thanking you for your input.

that damn smile.

the same smile that held such a strong amount of youth in it, reminiscent of his teen years back in zaun where he would grin at you with shining teeth. “thank you,” he spoke genuinely. “and thank you for the meal. i’m glad i got to talk with you, even for just a moment.” his words fluttered around in your chest, your lungs contracting painfully as you watch him slowly pack his belongings up.

he was always thankful to chat with you, and he would always love to talk more. he consistently said those words every time you would ask to meet up, before disappearing again for days, or weeks, or months. your conversations would border between soft small talk shared idly or full-on rants about your projects or deep conversations either about yourselves or the world around you. each time you would talk, there was a spark of hope, a little desperation in hoping he would notice your growing infatuation with him and his passion. and every time, the little daffodils growing in your stomach would begin to wilt away as you caught on that he would be disappearing yet again, and you would start back at square one.

you weren’t sure if he was doing it intentionally (you hoped he wasn’t), but either way, it hurt knowing that you had little to no chance in getting to express yourself to him. small letters written at the crack of dawn and little gifts you collected over time began to pile up on your desk and in your trash as you slowly began to destroy yourself from the inside out over his inability to notice your affection. next time, i’ll tell him, you would assure yourself each and every time, only for the words to get stuck in your throat, their attempts to claw their way out of your mouth all for naught.

next time, maybe.

the next time didn’t come for a long time. your conversations were, once again, reduced to quick greetings in the halls or hasty waves across the street as you both ran to your destinations, eager to get to work — the very work that was killing you inside. you were strongly averse to due dates, as time management wasn’t exactly your greatest skill. this weakness would only bite back at you as the school year progressed.

it was only until he caught you at your lowest point that viktor could finally slow down and talk to you. eventually, the stress from both school and your aching heart would overspill, you knew that. and yet, your break point hit you like a truck, hard and unrelenting, akin to waves crashing against rocks.

viktor held you in his arms in silence while you cried and cried to, seemingly, no end. your clock read 2:03 in the morning, a sigh nearly escaping the man’s lips as he realized how late it was. he could have scolded you then and there for being so careless about your health, but that would have made him a hypocrite.

“talk to me whenever you’re ready,” he whispered to you. your chest hurt with how soft he was being towards you, his skin on yours making your face flush. he wouldn’t be able to tell with your tear-soaked face, anyways.

after several moments, your sobs reduced to sniffles and short breaths, your face numb from how long you’d been crying. “i don’t know- everything feels so much more . . . difficult out of nowhere, and i feel so unproductive. i wanna get out of this hole but it feels like i’m digging towards nothing. and-“ you cut yourself off a second too late before realizing who you were talking to. you bit back a groan as he pushed you to continue. “and you. i don’t know what’s wrong with me, but you make me hurt so bad while making me smile so much. it’s just- every time i look at you, it hurts, because i need you so bad but you’re never around to notice it. i hate it- not you, i hate this- this feeling of want that i know i can’t have.”viktor turned silent after that, a response you were dreading but expecting all the same. you could feel his fingers twitch as his arms slowly unwrapped themselves from your arms. perhaps your sudden confession would push him away. you would understand.

“oh, miláček,” he spoke just barely above a whisper, his tone tantalizingly soft and delicate. his pet name in his mother tongue didn’t go unnoticed by you. “i apologize for not being present. while your confession was . . . abrupt, to say the least, i cannot deny that i feel the same. i always thought you were out of reach, too great for the likes of me, so i . . . tried to separate myself just a bit more as to not get attached. i’m so sorry,” he muttered while holding your hands in his. your heart was beating rapidly, the sweat beginning to pool up everywhere. “i know it may not be the right time, but . . .” viktor leaned his face towards yours, desperately trying to hide his awkwardness behind confident eyes. “i hope you can accept my affection for you.”

your eyelids fluttered shut as he pressed his lips against yours, tiny tears running down your cheeks as he kissed you with a passion similar to what he poured into his work. you had gotten what you wanted, albeit a little out of place. you weren’t complaining, though.

#arcane #arcane fanfic #arcane angst #arcane fanfiction #arcane fic #arcane imagines #arcane x reader #arcane viktor #viktor x reader #viktor angst #viktor fluff #arcane fluff

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notyetjae · 2 years

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Heyo! Can I request a mother figure reader x arcane characters platonically? Its like reader was a mother figure to kko, vi, powder, claggor and mylo and was there in the ep 3 explosion and years later she was kidnapped with vi, cait and silco at the tear party and sh convinces jinx they can all be together and happy again

Thank you!

𝙍𝙀𝙐𝙉𝙄𝙏𝙀𝘿

✎ pairing: Vi x f!reader

✎WC 1.2k

✎ warnings: Angst, flashbacks, nightmares, allusions to dead children, hallucinations, semi-abrupt ending

✎ A/N: I've always had this idea in the back of my head and I was so excited when I got this request! I hope you enjoy ~ THERE WILL BE A P2!

Chill air pierces your skin, your thin robe didn’t do much, more decorative than useful. It’d been another sleepless night, for once you thought you were doing some good for yourself, having a productive day and putting yourself to bed early to hopefully repeat the same tomorrow, but your brain had other plans, past memories haunt you every now and then, not nearly as much as they used to, it’s been years now, no need to hang onto the past is what you keep telling yourself.

On nights like this, you stood on your balcony, smoking cheap cigars to clear your mind, you exhaled deeply, smoke wisping around you before clearing into the night sky. Flashes of the dream taunted you, brain replaying blurry memories, some clearer than other, mostly the most heart wrenching ones, then the sounds, first the environment, rain pattering, fire roaring, broken concrete falling on itself, then the screams, ear splitting and headache inducing, no matter the dream you were always helpless, locked into a chair, held by a group of people, sometimes you were just paralyzed in fear. You knew what your mind would bring up next, you silently begged yourself for a moment of peace in your own head but it ignored you, remembering all the ones that died in your arms, they were only children, your children.

“Mom!” A voice called from behind you, clear as day unlike your flashbacks, you spun around quickly, hands gripping the balcony rail as you searched for the source of the voice, nothing. Your chest rose and fell quickly, you attempted to catch your breath, cigar free hand resting on your chest, you didn’t realize until now that you were crying, cool tears ran down your cheek, falling onto the concrete below.

You’d never hallucinated that before tonight, sure you'd heard shouts, whispers that would make the hair on the back of neck stand up, sometimes you swore you saw blood pool underneath your bedroom door, but that? No you'd never even heard it. Unless, maybe you have and chose to block it out, nonetheless you recognized the voice, small and terrified, it was powder. This only hurt your heart more, knowing her fate, hearing her last moments as an innocent girl, you could only pray that sisters death wasn’t as harsh as her fathers.

☆☆☆

Light poured through your blinds, annoyingly landing right on your face, you blinked awake, sleep haze blurring your vision as you sat up, somehow you managed to sleep after last night but you did. You spent a while just sitting in bed, glaring out the window, listening to the sounds of people outside, you couldn’t ignore the feeling of pure anxiety rushing through your veins, you felt it even before you opened your eyes and you knew it wouldn’t leave your side until the next day.

☆☆☆

Pushing yourself out of bed, you ambled down the halls of your empty apartment, you lived alone, which probably doesn’t help your depression but it’s better than getting attached to a stranger. You poured yourself a cup of coffee, it tasted like shit but at least it woke you up. You debated doing your responsibilities today, after last night's incident you just want to rot in bed all day.

☆☆☆

“Where are we going?” Caitlyn called out, lowering her voice when she realized people were staring, she pulled her hood over her head and caught up to Violet,

“Somewhere important.” She remarked, blood stained her off white bandages, she ‘bribed’ a guy into giving her the information she needed.

“You just beat someone up and you won’t even tell me where we’re going?” The taller girl whisper yelled, Vi elected to ignore her, focusing on keeping her fast walking pace and the buildings around her, ‘256, 257, 258’ She stopped abruptly, causing Caitlyn to bump into her, any other time she’d warn her to watch out but she ignored her once more, walking into the apartment complex, the entrance looked more like a sketchy motel, a sleeping women sat at the front desk, a wall of key hooks with initials and apartment numbers behind her, most spots empty, Vi steps closer, examining the initials to find yours, she huffed when she couldn’t spot yours, ‘what a waste of time.’ she thought.

“What are you looking for?” The accented girl questioned, Vi almost replied, but she stopped herself and turned back to the wall, ‘B.B’ they stuck out like a sore thumb, Vi scolded herself for not recognizing it at first, it was something you called her and the other kids growing up, you never told them what it means, powder theorized that it meant “Beautiful butterfly” while the older kids guessed it was probably just to foul to say out loud.

“That,” Vi spat, rushing up the apartment stairs, Caitlyn lagged behind. The stairs creaked with every step, and they felt never ending due to her impatience. She reached the 5th floor, and had to stop herself from sprinting down the hall. For whatever reason, she found herself paused in front of the door, fist clenched like she was about to knock but she didn’t, all she could think was would you recognize her?

“Are you going to knock?” asked Caitlyn, it came out ruder than expected, but a harsh shove was exactly what Vi needed.

A knock at your door caught your attention, gently setting down the warm mug, you made your way to the door and peered through the peephole, 2 girls stood outside, both with their hoods pulled over their heads, you sighed, and unlocked the deadbolt, pulling the door open just enough to look outside, “Can I help you two?” a firm tone, you didn’t have the patience for pranks today.

Violet’s heart panged when she heard your voice, she looked up, it really was you. She pulled her hood down, revealing her fire red hair, your heart sunk, you dreamt about this so many times you expected the sides of your vision to fade as you awoke, but they didn’t.

“Violet..?” You said breathlessly, the door creaked open so you could get a better look at her, she nodded silently, pulling her hands from her jacket. You flew into her arms, she was as tall as you now, you could meet her eyes without looking down, your arms wrapped around her shoulder, hand cradling the back of her neck, she wrapped her own hands around your back,

“You’re real!” You choked out, your other hand grasping at her jacket tightly, you feared she would disappear from your hold with no warning, “It’s me, it’s me.” She affirmed, you pulled away, despite your fear.

She looked so much older, much more tired, you could feel her muscles through the jacket she wore, her freckles were much more prominent and she had a face tattoo reading her name, she always joked about getting some while vander was working and walking in covered in ink to give him a heart attack.

The girl next to her stood silently, you looked to her hoping you would recognize her but you didn’t, “This is Caitlyn, she helped me get to you.” Vi explained, you turned back to the lean girl, hand cupping her face, your thumb ran delicately against her freckle dotted skin,

“I thought I lost you” you spoke lowly, voice soft as snow. Vi took your hand in hers,

“I know,--” she sniffled, “But I’m here now, and we need your help, can we come in?” You smiled through tears, “Of course.”

#vi x reader #arcane #arcane lol #arcane angst #arcane fluff #powder mention #caitlyn kiramman

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ficfanatictrf · 1 year

Text

The Night Stand (Part 7)

Summary : The two of you finally starting to explain yourselves to each other, and Viktor's memory of the first night.

Warnings : lots of angst and drama

Edited and proofread by nobody - just going for it!

Word Count: 2.0K

---- ---- ----

He had been nervous when you wanted to start from the beginning, an auditory gulp being heard once that words had been softly whispered into the dark room.

However, reaching up blindly, it wasn’t hard to cup his cheek softly in your palm as you tried to ease some of his anxiety.

“I’m not mad. Hurt? Sure. But I want to understand, not fight or get back at you - if you are willing to explain and then the two of us work together in the future, there is nothing to be nervous about”

You felt his shaky nod, the softest of kisses pressed to your palm as the silence stretched out. You wouldn’t be able to tell for sure, but you had worked with him long enough to know that he sometimes took a bit of time to piece together what he wanted to say and have it in the correct language.

The man beside you was one of the smartest men you knew, but sometimes when he seemed overwhelmed his ability to translate his own words seemed to suffer ever so slightly.

And now, as you waited for him to start, it would appear that this was one of those moments as well. So, in hopes of helping him, you decided to start the conversation instead.

“I have a few questions. If you would be willing to answer them”

Receiving an affirmative hum and a soft squeeze of your hand, you felt comfortable as you could be to delve into some of the issues you had been ruminating on for months.

“That night, after we s-sl..um..”

“Our first night together” He whispered, giving another comforting squeeze. “I would prefer to talk about it like that. With the underlying thought that there will be more - if you want more nights together that is”

“What would you call right now?”

With a huff, you felt him softly nudge you. It not have escaped his notice that you were trying to divert the conversation to easier topics.

“Fine, fine. After our first night together, you sent me away. Were you…embarrassed?”

The man bolted to sit up, needing to look you in the eyes as he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Embarrassed?! Why on earth would you think that?”

“How else was I supposed to take it?” You mumbled softly, not able to make eye contact as you finally voiced the thoughts you had been thinking for such a long time. “We slept together and I woke up without any memory of it. I was just going to cut my losses and slip out before you woke up…but it was you. I had, well, I liked you for nearly three years.”

Viktor’s shoulders dropped, a few of the pieces on his end finally clicking into place as you spoke.

“I had hoped that maybe that night would mean something. That I might not have remembered, but that…I hoped that since the two of us didn’t sleep around much that it meant my feelings weren’t unrequited. I know, I know you are just here for the baby - that you are doing your best at being a good ‘father’ for your child by being there for me, for the child’s mother..”

At first, he had been following along, before everything in his mind ground to a halt.

“I’ve just wanted to know for some time if I did something to make you dislike me that night. Did I say something or do so-”

“There has been a mistake.”

Finally looking at the other, you could see just how surprised he was by your words - shock etched deep into his eyes as he grappled with what you just put before him.

“I am not and have not been only around you because of our child.” He continued, reaching forward to set a hand gently over your stomach. “I remember that night, not clearly but at least a little bit.”

---- ---- ----

It had been just another night of the small group celebrating the successful launch of their new invention.

Jayce had nearly forced every member of Hextech to drink with him at least once, with the bonus of him making it his mission that nobody’s glass could be empty.

As such, it hadn’t been long before most of the company had needed to call it a night and head home. Leaving a few girls, you included, and the two Hextech owners.

Apart from you, the rest of the girls had lived near where Jayce currently was residing - which led to him explaining that he would be walking them home while Viktor walked you home.

The man knew about the affection the two of you shared for each other, it not being hard for nearly everyone in the whole lab to see that there was something there. Yet, it always seemed like nothing happened because of something getting in the way.

Hopefully, tonight would be the night to get things started.

Sending the two of you off, it wasn’t long before you started to bicker with him. Refusing to tell him where you lived, you insisted that the two of you go to his place first so that you could walk him home. That with his leg, him walking you home before heading to his residence was just going to leave him sore and in pain the next day.

Drunk you had been a nightmare.

You were loud and way too close, nearly hanging off of him as the two of you headed out. He would need to keep an eye out for you in the future as it was clear that you did not hold your liquor very well.

“Vik, Vik, Vikky-”

“Don’t call me that”

“Vikky. Come on, I wanna see your place. I bet it is full of books and blankets and- ohhh!! Do you have a pet? I bet you have a cat or a hamster. Something cute and adorable, like you. Can I hold it when we get there? Please please please?!”

With a heavy sigh, he did his best to hold you up as you both headed down the street. Looking back, he could hardly remember much about the conversation, other than the fact that you weren’t really listening and just steamrolled the whole interaction.

By the time the two of you got to his apartment, the idea that you would be heading home from there was already something he didn’t believe to be possible.

You had grown quiet, at times he almost believed that you had passed out. Only to glance over at you to see your eyes staring right at him - contemplating something deep within your mind.

Unlocking the front door, he carefully led you to his bed.

“I’ll take the couch, I will find you some sleep clothes and wash the ones you're wearing -”

The man nearly had a heart attack as you practically ripped your shirt off and tossed it somewhere else in the room. Even as he quickly looked away, it did little to change the fact of what he saw and now what he was telling himself he had to forget.

It was inappropriate, it was wrong to think of you that way, it was…

Your hands grasped onto either side of his face, forcing him to look at you once more.

Silently, you stared at him, before just as he was about to speak you kissed him.

He could taste the alcohol. An intoxicating flavor that even as he knew he shouldn’t, he wanted more of.

And the kiss was far from innocent, very quickly deepening into something desperate.

Here you were, the one he had been in love with for what felt like an eternity, throwing yourself at him with such purpose he could hardly believe that you were drunk.

Fuck! You were drunk.

Against everything inside him that screamed to continue, he pulled away. The alcohol in his system was making it harder to keep his focus on what he needed to do, having nearly lost himself to temptation from a mere kiss.

“Stop, stop. We need to stop.”

He had been ready to fight you, to physically keep you away if needed. Nothing that you could have done to push him to do something would have worked.

Except for the very thing that happened in front of him.

Pulling away, he watched as tears were soon pooling in the corners of your eyes - a lump getting stuck in the back of his throat as he saw the tears slip free and drip onto your shirt.

“D-Don’t cry..”

Reaching out, he had wanted to try and comfort you - only to feel his heart crack as you stepped away and out of reach, slightly curling into yourself as your hands moved up to try and quickly hide the evidence.

“I-I’m not crying. I’m not.” Viktor could only stand and watch, wishing he could do more to help. “First my ex leaves without any explanation, now even you push me away…I must be the ugliest or worst person on the planet”

“That isn’t true!”

Trying once more to reach out and manage to catch your arm- he pulled you back into his hold even as you weakly tried to push him away.

“You are not ugly. Not even close.”

Whispering words of affection, it took a while for him to finally get you to stop crying- though as you looked up at him, he had already forgotten once again all about why he shouldn’t allow this to go further.

You weren’t sober.

He wasn’t sober.

He shouldn’t have allowed it, he should have made sure that at least protection had been used.

Yet at that moment, when you looked up at him with such awe and adoration- he couldn’t deny you when you asked for him.

Not this time.

As he awoke the next morning, all of what he had done hit him all at once. The guilt and shame ate away at him as he forced the food you made for him down.

He felt sick, like a monster - all while you nervously smiled at him. Him? The one that, in some people’s eyes, assaulted you.

And when you finally left, away from where you could see him - he allowed himself to mourn whatever chance there had been of the two of you being together.

---- ---- ----

“I was never embarrassed by you. I was ashamed…of myself”

As Viktor had gone into detail about what he remembered, you had sat up to listen - allowing him the space he needed to get all his thoughts out without interruption.

But enough was enough.

“Viktor. I was drinking that day to get up the courage to confess my feelings to you. Sleeping with you had been the goal”

Blinking at your words, you were able to see the exact moment it clicked in his mind - his face turning scarlet at your words.

“A-Ah, I see.”

You could feel a yawn coming, and even as you tried to contain it - it managed to break free right as Viktor finally looked up at you once again.

Moving back where he had been before, the man was gentle but forceful as he eased you back down - pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

“We can discuss the rest later. For now, sleep. I won’t be here when you awake as I need to head out soon, but we will talk more. I swear it.”

With a nod you agreed, curling up against him as your medications made the process of falling asleep far faster than normal.

---- ---- ----

Every morning, since you had been admitted into the hospital, had been the same.

A slow morning, where the doctors would come in and out to discuss the different tests or medicines they wanted to try - leaving you for the most part on your own to either read or sleep.

So when you awoke to shouting, the sound of heavy footsteps practically running towards your room - you couldn’t help but bolt upright, already working on getting out from under the covers to address whatever the commotion was about.

“Security!”

-----------------

Tag List : @cheeriecherrymain @piperdoodles @alternate--simp @thehistoriangirl @vmyths @luixiv @linky-dinks @bruh-anator3000 @somethingthatsaysbubbles

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darklcy · 2 years

Note

hello!! I recently came across your work and adore your writing style:0- i was wondering if i could get a bit of comfort with ekko? preferably for stress/anxiety or whatever you're comfortable with! thank you <3

hi hii! thanks so much for the compliment, i hope you enjoy :3 this is also my first request after my temporary hiatus so wooo!

𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞

△ arcane masterlist ▼

↳ pairing: ekko x reader

↳ warnings: mentions of anxiety & vague self destructive behavior

↳ word count: 847

Typically fears developed in childhood decrease in intensity or vanish completely by the time adulthood rolls around, but strangely enough, you never did overcome your fear of heights. Ironic, seeing how your name was labeled under the Firelight alias, the group that fought from their signature hoverboards.

It's not reassuring to know that the brush with death was a dance you performed every time the device hummed awake, but among other things, it was just something to get over. You had to make room for more significant matters, not your childish anxieties.

Still, it kept you up at night.

It painted hollow shadows below your eyes, and cursed your stomach in an everlasting nausea. The muscles in your body grew weaker from lack of nutrition, and it was only a matter of time before it really began to show.

Despite the physical damage to your body, the guilt was the worst of it. There was no time to be afraid. No time for any setbacks or distractions. Focus must be on the future, the future the Firelights worked so hard for. The very reason for the groups' existence.

Every mission was a step towards freedom, and that alone was a purpose worth dying for. But for some, mind-boggling reason, you just couldn't accept that fate.. And you despised yourself for it.

First, it was denial. Then it was anger, and now, you're not too sure what to call this expression. Despair? Fatigue? What is in this reflection you're staring at right now, that brings your state of mind closer to the cliff? Did you even recognize yourself? Was this person on the other side of the glass really you?

Stumbling backwards onto your mattress, you tightly gripped the fabric of your pants as your gaze fell to the floorboards. Departure was in ten minutes. The clock was ticking fast. The familiar clench in your chest rose up from the depths, causing your lungs to sharply inhale.

1...2...3...1...2...3..

The skin between your brows pulled together. It's not working.

1...2...-

"Hey. Reminder, we move out in five."

His voice passing by your door interrupted the pattern.

The glance he spared you was brief, but the hunch in your shoulders drove out a double take. The tip of his boot hit the doorframe to halt his step. Hand coming to rest on the wood, Ekko raised a brow at your silence.

"..You okay?"

Your foot began to bounce, hands coming together to interlock.

"Mhm. Yeah."

Ekko frowned as he entered the room. "You sure about that?"

You slapped the palms of your hands to your knees as you rose, a wavering sigh flying out your chapped lips. "Yes. It's just.." Your arms waved around in a gesture. "I don't know...jitters."

The boy chuckled, quirking his brow higher up his forehead. "Still get those, huh? Though I can't say anything, I get them, too."

You frowned this time. "You still get nervous?"

Even though his announcement marked the limited minutes before take off, Ekko leisurely replaced your spot on the mattress and exhaled, eyelids closing. "Before every mission. Before I get out of bed. Before I do...anything."

Suddenly, the suffocating weight inside your chest lifted, just by the slightest amount. Stepping forward, you sat down beside him, staring at the same wooden planks as before. Ekko turned to you, eyes studying the muscles of your expression.

He wasn't a stranger to the signs. The weariness in your cheeks and eye circles, as well as the dead skin on your lips due to biting. You were more than nervous right now. He clapped a hand to your shoulder.

"We're gonna be okay."

The smoothness in his tone wrapped you up in an embrace and squeezed until you couldn't breathe. The skin of your neck tensed as you swallowed, an irritating wetness pooling in your vision. The hand on your shoulder moved to wrap around you entirely, bringing your body to lean against his.

Your cheek lolled down to meet the cut off of his sleeve, the fabric catching the tear that escaped you. His hand rubbed your right arm a couple times as you sniffled.

"We got this, alright? You're strong. I know you can handle this. And if anything goes south, you get out of there."

You nodded against him, swiping away the dampness from your cheeks.

"You don't have to go through this alone, alright? I'm here, [First]. You can talk to me."

He received another nod from you. When he didn't hear any other vocal response, he gently shook you, earning a hushed laugh.

"Okay?" "Okaay."

You met his lingering stare with a grin, eyes no longer damp. "Thank you."

Patting you on the arm, he rose up to his feet, ultimately bringing you with him. "Don't thank me. It's what we do. We look after each other."

His hand slid off your form and grabbed both of yours, giving you a gentle squeeze.

"..You ready?"

Ridding the remains of your nerves with another slow breath, you made eye contact with a bit more confidence.

"Yes."

And you were.

#arcane #arcane x reader #ekko arcane #ekko #ekko x reader #arcane ekko x reader #arcane league of legends #league of legends #league of legends x reader #arcane angst #ekko x reader comfort #ekko x reader fluff #comfort #x reader #darklcy

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vander-affectionate · 1 year

Note

Oh god you scared me.

How was your week? I'm guessing it's stressful, i hope you get better soon. I'm always here if you need to talk to someone about anything. Don't go hard on yourself! If you feel like you can't write or things like that you can obviously take a break. If you don't, maybe you can write something about taking care of a stressed Vander? Idk if that would help tho😞

this ask (T-T) thank you so much for sending this sal, i appreciate it. it's been a teeny, inchie little bit stressful, but getting an ask like this in the middle of it is as a good as a glass of water. don't worry, i'll be staying hydrated and i hope you will too, thank you so much for the request because you hit the nail right on the head so without further ado...

vander gets overwhelmed and has lowkey himbo vibes because he thinks a bonk on the head might solve his overthinking, but reader is stressed too. i had complete sensory overload while writing this so i have not edited this yet. reblog, reblog, reblog, and again, thank you so much for requesting this.

Vander huffs, leaning on the bar with a tankard in hand. The bar is closing up for the night, but he's not there to do it - no, actually, you sent him in the back for the remainder of the night after things got out of hand in the Drop's busiest hour.

The tankard slams hard on the coffee table and draws his hands up his face, into his hair, and then back down so the sharp cuts of his scruff stab his fingers when he breathes too hard. He wonders how sweet words and kisses over his forehead from a refreshing morning with you had turned to a sour, bristled night ending with none other than Vander himself initiating a bar fight that you had to break up. He grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut because it's embarrassing just to think about. It's not the fact that you had to bash him across the head with a tankard to get his attention.

"Hey."

There you are, opening the door with an elbow while simultaneously attempting to wipe your hands with a counter top rag, not the ones he tells you to use. He can't even scold you when there's some weak version of a flame in his chest fueling his embarrassment. He opts for staring at the fraying couch arm instead of words.

"Bar's empty, Benzo came 'round asking if you wanted to have drinks" you sit yourself on the opposite end of the couch on the arm, leaning on the thick cushions. "Told him you were mine for tonight, that okay?"

He huffs a sound, something dryly amused because where else would he rather be than swallowed up by the comfort of his own. He wants to rot in the embarrassment he's caused himself and he cannot be more thankful for you telling Benzo he was in for the night.

Vander's half paying attention. He doesn't see the way you frown at him or the way you ease off the couch and move around it to come near until you're sitting on the coffee table with a hand on his knee. He jumps and you withdraw your touch. He's surprised by your wide eyes directed at him, rather than the unamused glare he was expecting.

That's all you do for a second, both of you stare at each other until your hand stills in the air, halfway between you two, "is it okay for me to touch you?"

Vander chews the inside of his cheek, glaring at the couch and it pains him to shake his head. He's not sure how much he can take of you tonight, you're wonderful - beyond that actually, but everything is too much and you're- he's... words are a little hard for him.

But you can see it in the way he's stiff against the couch.

"That's okay," you stand up from the coffee table and move around it.

His eyes widen and you're stopped in your tracks by his hand curled around your wrist. His brows are knitted together and his lips pressed into a thin line, his words are clipped, "Don't leave." muttering a please that breaks in his throat.

Your fingers press and brush the inside of his wrist before you lean down to kiss his arm, keeping his gaze all the while, "I'm right here, Vander. I'm sitting over there, is that okay?"

His eyes flickers to the chair you've gestured to and you see his nose wrinkle. His features soften when he sees the upturn of your lips and he releases your hand, relaxing back into the couch cushions and watching you curl into a ball in the arm chair on his right that's too big for you. You're a vision of comfort and he leans his head back into the cushions while you both stare.

"Sorry about hitting you over the head," you prod the area on your head in the spot you clocked him earlier.

He shrugs, "Nothin' I didn't deserve."

Vander watches you curl your legs underneath yourself as you lean on the arm, closer to him. He turns his gaze because he doesn't want you seeing these feelings rearing their ugly heads. He needed that hit, he's convinced himself it helped calm him down and squints as he considers a second might be the hearty cool down he's missing.

"They really got to you tonight," your voice is still soft and he wants it to grate a nerve in him. He wants you to give him a reason to be angry at himself for his outburst tonight, but when he glances over at you he can't be.

Your cheek is squished against the frayed armchair upholstery and your eyes seem more like doe eyes than they ever have when you're staring up at him like he's hung the moon. He glances away and sees your mouth curl up and he wonders if you're deliriously believing he's hung the stars. Your eyes crinkle when your lips push into your cheeks and he swallows, maybe you're playing tricks on his heart.

"Why're y'stressed?" your nonchalance grates something in him and he throws his arms into the air and kicks the coffee table with the toe of his boot.

"Cause!" he snips, "It's pilin' up, shits been falling apart, the tankards need replacing, and I threw a couple of folks half way up the piltover bridge-" he rounds on you with fire in his eyes and he's standing to his full height across the room, kicking the fallen tankard and turning his back to you so he can run his hands through his hair. He swears up and down at everything including the fallen tankard to the accident he had when he cut his jaw shaving this morning.

"I'm exhausted and, I..."

He leans his head against the wall, away from you, and you sigh. He bites his lip and quietly scolds himself because he's being selfish, you're tired too and here he is complaining about all of this. He turns around, an apology on his tongue, but he doesn't get to face you because there's a cheek on his back.

He tenses and lifts a leg to see your socked feet behind his boots. You hadn't made a sound nor do you when you meet his eyes when he raises his arm and awkwardly bends his head to catch your gaze.

"Thank you for telling me." you offer yet another smile and it's only now that he can spot the droop to your eyes.

His lips part and that heated frustration in his chest, releases and unfurls seeing your kind smiles, "I've been stressed too. Thought I was the only one."

Vander turns around and cups your face in his hands, he rubs his fingers beneath your eyes that are only slightly sunken in because he forgets that keeping the bar open for an hour later doesn't only take its toll on him. You lean into the warm palms that cup your face and sigh, nuzzling your nose into their center and he draws you close, if only to let you curl against his chest and he watches you fully melt into him. Your shoulders sink and your fists curl into the fabric of his shirt. You shiver when his palm draws down the length of your back and he finds himself wrapping himself in you when he dips his head to bury his face in your neck. He pulls you off of your feet if only to keep you pressed to him and inhale your scent.

"I'm stressed too," he reiterates. Fingers press into your back, massaging and rolling the muscles there until you're moulding against him and nothing but an extension of himself when he moves the two of you to lie down on the couch, you ontop of him.

"You're not alone, Vander." you tilt your head up and stroke across his jaw, if only to get his attention and he melts into you, sighing and rolling you on your side so you're pressed to the cushions and his chest.

He presses his lips to your temple and rests there, sighing and curling his arms around your waist while you kiss whatever you can reach, his shoulder, his collar, and his neck. He nuzzles further into you and squeezes you in his ars.

"I know."

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angelltheninth · 1 year

Text

Relationship Misunderstanding with Sevika

Pairing: Sevika x Fem!Reader

Tags: angst, developing relationship, friends with benefits, misunderstandings, confessions, kissing

A/N: Angst and misunderstandings on the Sevika menu today.

The thing with Sevika is that its hard to tell when the relationship gets serious

She already kisses you whenever she wants only when you're friends with benefits, it doesn't change much when you begin dating so the two start to blur for you

Goes to brothels quite often but the bizarre thing is that she invites you with her

Focuses mostly on you while there and you always go for drinks after

Her staying over at your place was normal but she would never stay for more then a night

Gets very territorial over you when you're out

Always bites your lip and loves to suck on your tongue when kissing you

You can get drunk on her kisses, maybe because of the taste of alcohol on her lips, or maybe its just because its Sevika's kisses

Hates clingy people so you're careful not to step over that line

Definitely likes to tease you a lot, but in a softer way then she does with others

You're on her lap more often then not when you're at the Last Drop

You mistake her saying how she enjoys your company more then that of other people for a confession and because of that you begin to get jealous when she flirts with other people

She never changes her attitude towards you so she's the one left confused over why you're acting like this

Yes she can be territorial but that's a personal trait of hers, she doesn't like to share with others

When you ask her to say over after you sleep together she gets a little scared that you're starting to get clingy, not realizing she accidentally have you the impression that you were official

Hearing rumors of it going around the Last Drop really makes her flabbergasted

Confronting you about it is a little awkward for you both, you because you don't get why she's mad and for her because she doesn't know when you think you began dating

The argument ends like it always does with you two, by kissing and ripping each others clothes off as the frustration builds more and more

Only after the adrenaline passes do you have time to explain yourself

You feel dumb for misunderstanding her confession and even more that you poured your heart out to her without meaning to

With the misunderstanding gone you're scared that Sevika will leave you but to your surprise she pulls you a little closer to her

She... doesn't exactly love you, but she does like you and she meant what she said about liking spending time with you, she can't give you any more then that for right now

Take it or leave it

#arcane x reader #arcane imagines #arcane headcanon #sevika x reader #sevika imagine #sevika headcanon #arcane x you #sevika x you #arcane x female reader #sevika x female reader #arcane angst #league of legends x reader #league of legends imagine #league of legends headcanons #league of legends x you #league of legends x female reader

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imajinxnation · 2 years

Note

thank you thank you for my order i loved the dresses,

I leave it without gender for you to feel more comfortable to write with whoever you want.

Would it be possible to have a part 2 of "Arcane characters' reactions had to announce that they betrayed you or you caught them"? with viktor,silco and jayce.and whoever else you want to grow. please

You Catch Them Cheating 2 - Arcane Preference/Reaction

I don't write for Jayce, but I'll gladly write for the other two boys!

Sorry if this sucks, especially Viktor's, I had a better time thinking of a scenario for Silco than Vik; his was a bit of a struggle.

Warning: ANGST

Silco

He knew he fucked up as soon as he returned to your shared bedroom. As he sat down on the bed, his hands ran over his face in anxiety. You deserved to know the truth, but was he really going to risk you leaving him because of how unfaithful he had been. It had only been a few hours since he left the brothel. He knew he shouldn't have gone, but he did, and it was too late to change his decision. He looked to the bedside table to see if he had any cigars there. There was one single cigar with a note underneath it. Silco's heart began to race, he knew your handwriting anywhere. He picked up the note and left the cigar on the table. He began to read:

"Hello, Silco. I hope you had fun, because I sure didn't, watching what you did. I'm surprised you didn't notice me, especially when I started crying. What I wanted to say is, I'm leaving. I can forgive a lot of things, but not this. You always go on about how much you hate betrayal, and yet you decided to betray me.

- (Y/n)"

Viktor

Alright, I'm going to be honest, I feel like Vik and Sky had done a few... things together, but never really went through with commiting to a relationship due to work, so this is based off of that.

You were on your way to bring Viktor his lunch, knowing he wouldn't take breaks, you brought it to him often. This time wasn't as pleasant a visit as normal. As you opened the lab door, you looked up to see Viktor and Sky in the middle of a makeout session. You held tightly onto the food, lightly closed the door with tears in your eyes and set the fabric wrapped lunch on the ground and left.

Later that day when Sky and Viktor were done, Sky noticed the fabric on the ground as she was about to walk out, so she gave it to him and told him she just found it outside.

Viktor immediately knew you left this there and panicked, knowing you were there when he and Sky were... busy. He left the lab to get home as quickly as he could, but it was too late, you were already gone.

#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane imagine #arcane imagines #arcane preference #arcane preferences #league of legends #silco imagine #silco x reader #viktor x reader #viktor imagine #arcane angst

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novacqnes · 2 years

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do for love // jinx

summary: jinx was spiraling and despite your attempts there was nothing you could do to stop it

warning: angsty, just kissing, arguing

pairing: jinx x fem reader

word count: 1.1k

a/n: jinx gets a bit aggressive but what else is new-

Part 2

Jinx usually had trouble sleeping, it would take hours before the fatigue finally got to her and when it did, it wasn’t for long. Hence, it didn’t surprise you when you came home to see her wide awake, blasting music while working on a new invention.

You sauntered over to her, running a hand over her striking blue hair.

“Where ya been?” She asked, her tone unsettlingly calm.

You’d rehearsed the excuse in your head practically a million times, you couldn’t show any emotion. Any hint of uncertainty or anxiousness in your voice would tip her off.

You lied, “Sevika wanted me to check on the supply, make sure it’s ready to go for tomorrow.”

She smirked, tugging you down into the chair with her. She turned the chair so that you were pressed against the table and her body. Her hand slid around your neck pulling you into a fiery kiss. Your hands roamed her sculpted body as you let out a soft moan. Jinx’s tongue rolled over yours, deepening the kiss, she moved to your neck, attacking it instantly. You gasped as she left behind light marks that would eventually form into bruises.

She pulled away, only making you want more. You tried to urge her on by grinding against her but she planted her hands firmly on your hips.

“Jinx please…..” You whined.

“Do you love me Y/n?”

The question took you aback. The answer was yes without a doubt but she knew that already. Every day without fail you reassured Jinx that you loved her and today was no different.

“Of course I do,” You cooed.

Moments like these scared you because Jinx became impossible to read. She carefully observed you, brows furrowed. You could feel your heart race the more her blue eyes flickered between yours. She was trying to detect something- a lie.

“Then where were you?” She spat, her voice laced with venom.

“I-I told you, I went to check on the shimmer supply.”

You stood firm in your lie, praying Jinx couldn’t smell the fear radiating off you. You didn’t lie because you wanted to hurt her but because the truth would send her over the edge. For years you’d stood by and watched as she became a pawn for Silco, growing more and more unstable by the days. You knew there was nothing you could from the outside looking in so you joined them, helping out in shimmer production, distribution- anything to be close to her. No matter how taxing it was for you to participate in the undercity’s destruction you tolerated it, because it meant keeping the love of your life safe.

You attempted to reassure Jinx by caressing soft motions on her arms which seemed to work until she leaned in, dangerously close.

“Liar.” She snarled, tightening her grasp on your arm. “One of Silco’s guys said he saw you wandering around Piltover after the explosion. Speaking to an enforcer.”

The knot in your stomach festered upon realizing you were being followed. You were discreet, the only way someone would’ve seen you was if you’d been followed or that Kiramman girl had ratted you- which didn’t seem likely.

“Okay- okay, I lied. I did but I promise it’s not what it looks like alright, I wouldn’t say anything.”

Jinx was unmoved, her painful grip on your arm remained.

You sighed, “That enforcer I was with doesn’t know about you or Silco or any of what we’re doing down here, she was helping me find someone.”

“Who?”

You contemplated what would happen if you told Jinx about your quest to find Vi, and how she’d react. You’d imagine it turning into a heated argument, one that lasted for days, she wasn’t one to give up. For years she was made to believe that her sister was gone but you couldn’t accept that. There had to be some reason as to why Vi had been gone so long and her coming back could be what Jinx needed.

“Vi.”

Finally, she loosened her grip from you, violently shaking her head.

“No, you're lying again. Vi’s dead.” She stammered.

Gingerly, you cupped her face in your hands to soothe her.

“I’m not, I swear. She’s been alive this whole time, in Stillwater.”

Jinx didn’t know what to believe. Silco told her— no he swore to her that Vi was long gone, dead. She’d believed her sister had abandoned her. And why would he lie?

She pushed your hands from her, disgust seeping into her face.

“He said, you’d do this. That you’d lie to me, just like the others but I trusted you!” She hissed, pulling away from you entirely.

“You’ve got it all wrong, baby I’m telling you the truth, he’s the one that’s been lying to you for years!” You cried.

The desperation crept into your voice the more you felt Jinx slip away from you. It was his fault. He manipulated her, turned her against you and you hadn’t even realized it.

She began to storm away, you reached for her, begging,” Please-“

But she yanked her hand away causing you to lose your balance and tumble on the ground. Before you knew it she towered over you, her eyes illuminated by the light. The tears threatened to spill as she fought to look at you, her face scrunched up in pain, anger, love.

“He’s manipulating you, Jinx. I need you to see it, please see it.” You sobbed.

Jinx standing over you made you feel fear like never before. She looked so powerful- almost indestructible. And yet you still yearned for her. No matter how dangerous she became, or how much she hurt you, your love never wavered.

She leaned forward, blinking back her tears. “I love you Y/n, that's the truth. But I’m not gonna let you ruin everything I’ve worked so hard to build.

“Jinx wait-“ You stuttered, stumbling to your feet.

“Silco’s says you’re a threat- so you’re a threat.” She said through gritted teeth, slowly reaching for her shock pistol.

A pained expression flashed across your face as reality hit you like a speeding train. You were losing her, and there was nothing you could do.

“No-no I love you, please you have to listen to me”—

Her grip tightened around the pistol “Leave y/n,” She warned.

“Jinx-“

“GET OUT!” She shouted, whipping the zapper around, directly pointing it at you.

Terrified, you stared down the barrel of the gun desperately searching for signs of you girlfriend. This wasn’t her, this couldn’t be her. All signs of patience had evaporated as Jinx stared right through you. As if she didn’t recognize you, ready to pull the trigger.

#arcane #jinx #jinx arcane #jinx fanfic #arcane fanfic #jinx angst #jinx x fem reader #jinx smut #league of legends #jinx x reader #arcane x reader #arcane fan fiction #arcane angst #vi arcane #silco arcane

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myreygn · 1 year

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thinking about how ekko tells vi that jinx is all that's left and talking to her won't do anything good, as if he knows. as if he tried. he tried.

#arcane #arcane league of legends #ekko (arcane)#jinx (arcane)#vi (arcane)#timebomb #arcane angst #ig #rey talks

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basichextechml · 2 years

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Synthetic // Ch.1

Viktor/Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature // 3K Words // She/her pronouns for reader, but like in the way that cars and boats are she/her, dead bodies

Viktor finds himself winding through alleys, re-living old memories, and remembering what it felt like to be held.

Prologue // Ch.1 // Ch.2

Shout out to @dicax-asina @thedreamlessnights and @heraldeez for telling me to stop using so many commas and also being like “present and past tenses aren’t based on the vibes, Kue” <3

---

Every evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, and the moon bathed the tides, the lights of Zaun flickered to life, street after street, like flicking on a circuit board. The neon colors were endless, illuminating the streets in a way that presented life.

Viktor wasn’t an exception, right hand fumbling to turn on his desk lamp as the natural sunlight crawled from the window sill. The golden light illuminated the workstation, harsh shadows falling across the molding littering the room. Wires and tubing sat in boxes, once organized, now scattered from the man rummaging through them, checking if he had a specific piece. Vials upon vials of chemicals sat poised and dusty on a shelf, just waiting for their time to be uncapped and used.

And now was the time.

Viktor’s hands trembled as he finished the last alterations on the paper in front of him. Everything mapped perfectly, the numbers double and triple-checked. His back ached from sitting in his chair, the curve digging into his hips. And he had a migraine from straining his eyes. But it was worth it. All of it.

You were perfect.

You would be perfect.

The world was lost on Viktor when he worked, wholly encompassed in reworking and welding, stitching you together. The human form had its flaws, yes, Viktor knew this better than most people. Even after the… circumstances, when Viktor could move his leg without pain, and his right hand no longer trembled, he could still feel the bones of his spine crushing against one another. He could still feel the piercing in his lungs. He was still in pain.

So he’d make you better. The metal wouldn’t rust, and the wires wouldn’t cross. You’d never break a bone, and you could breathe no matter the quality of air, completely unmitigated and free. You’d feel, at least logistically- he needed you to feel.

And soft.

You’d be soft.

Viktor moved to the floor as he built you, splaying out your parts to map out where everything would go, to weld and build fluidly. Perfect. He started on your head. Heimerdinger once told him that the brain and the heart made up the soul. Viktor wasn’t sure he believed in souls; they had no scientific backing, and had never been observed, but if they were real, he’d like you to have one. So after he finished your head, he moved onto your heart, pouring his own into it.

His hands nearly bled making it- the tiny, intricate crevices snagging at his nails and the delicate skin of his wrists- but when he finished he could imagine it beating. Steady and according to design inside your chest. Viktor set it inside a cushioned box for safekeeping, the lock clicking softly into place, his mother’s jewelry box now homing something precious once again.

The torso was next, the polymer vertebrae divoting under Viktor’s fingers as they aligned, synthetic disks squeezing between the pieces, stitching it together, secure. Miniscule tubing ran through the planes like vines, tapped into skeletal muscle, winding through the ribs and down into the pelvis and radiating up into the arms.

Symmetry was an intrinsic value of the arms and legs, proportional to everything in a perfect case of the human form. Feet the size of the forearm, calves and ankles the size of the upper leg. The femur fits four times into your height, the head seven, and your hands the size of your face. The waist, twice the size of the neck, and the neck twice the size of the wrists.

The form, when stretched, creates a circle.

Perfect. You’d be perfect.

Days passed, and even as the sun rose and set, the lamp on Viktor’s desk never switched off, the bulb illuminating the man and his work, signalling to the outside world of life inside the house on Emberflit Alley.

Viktor abandoned a screwdriver on the floor, the metal clinking against the wood before rolling away. The rest of his tools were in a similar state, disregarded after having been used, scattered around him. His fingers sank into the soft material of the dermis, before reaching up to the head, touching a jolt of electricity to an exposed wire- that would, ideally, be connected to the brain. Warm.

Viktor smoothed his hands down the thigh, towards the joint of the knee, and cupped underneath it, bending it gently. Not a creak, and he ran his hands down further, to the ankle, rolling the complex joints and flexing the toes. Perfect. Viktor tried not to let his grin grow too wide- there was still more work to be done- much more.

The arms went well up until the hands- tricky little things, making sure the fingers lay right, asking himself multiple times, “Are those stupid little wrist bones necessary?” before deciding, yes, they were. Setting the tendons and arteries together was maddening, making sure the tubes were wide enough to accomplish what was necessary, yet slim enough to fit in the fingers. The nerves were the worst, though. He wanted you to feel, in every sense of the word, spreading the sensors through the dermis, right next to the heat transmitters. They were everywhere.

Perfect.

Viktor gripped his crutch, using it to pull himself up from the ground. Pinpricks of pain shot up his spine, traveling to the base of his skull, subsequently worsening his migraine.

“Soon,” he softly spoke to himself, taking care to step over the masses of wires and tools decorating the floor- his work could not be undone now.

The market was just as busy as he always remembered it. Drawing his coat tighter over his frame, he burrowed through the crowd, his destination familiar, yet uncharted. There were many suspicious alleyways in the Undercity, well-known ones, where you “wandered” for specific things, but the one next to The Last Drop was prolific, and Viktor kept his head down as he entered it.

He ignored the moans of people suffering, fingers clawing at his shoes and ankles as he veered to the right, taking a worn staircase down into the caverns of the bar. The wooden door at the very end was ominous, a mixture of purple and green lighting seeping out from beneath it, detailing what was inside. Viktors knuckles, worn from work, rapped lightly upon the door, and didn’t wait for an answer before entering.

“I see you’ve come back,” Singed spoke, a lilt to his voice that told he’d always known Viktor would come traipsing through again. His scarred hands set down a vial, the concentrated shimmer inside sloshing around before settling again. “Your friend, did he understand?”

“No,” Viktor croaked, wincing at the vulnerability in his own voice. His eyes traced the mechanisms on the table, the flames and drips producing what Viktor needed. “He did not. I seek you for… other purposes.”

“You want more.”

It was a statement, not a question, and as he spoke, he held out the vial to Viktor.

Viktor didn’t take it.

“I’m working on something- someone-” Viktor searched for his next words carefully, vulnerable, but not wanting to expose his jugular. “I will need much more- a much purer dose than what is in that vial.”

Singed withdrew his offer, nail tapping against the tube in thought, his shoulders hunched. Viktor’s eyes drew to Rio, still alive, but not living, in that tank. That longing still filled his chest, a camaraderie present after all these years. Silence floated through the air, only being broken once every few seconds by Singed’s nails against the glass, before he placed it down entirely. The hand once holding the vial, gestured broadly to the wall, where stacks upon stacks of boxes lay.

“Take what you need,” he said, “but I want to see those blueprints if she works.”

Viktor did as instructed, turning to leave with his spoils. It was only when he got to the door that he spoke again. “I have one more thing to ask…”

---

Another alley well-known for its… merchandise, per se. This one, much more ominous, also smelled. Viktor held up his coat jacket to mask the stench, following behind a wiry, short man as he was led through corridor after corridor of once white walls.

“This is where we keep ‘em,” the man said, his voice raspy- a smoker, no doubt. “Imma be honest with you, boy, I’m not sure what you want these for- there’s no use for ‘em, but…”

Viktor was paying, a pretty high sum, in fact, and that was most likely the only reason he was allowed in, taken to the very back, and given his choosing. It wasn’t like they would’ve made any money off of them anyways.

Viktor stepped into the small, chilled room, head after head after head crisped over with ice and laying on rickety metal shelves. The eyes in most of them were gone- corneal transplants were gaining popularity- and the teeth, too. Piltover high society paying top dollar for replacements in aesthetic dentistry.

He could barely hold back a laugh before his stomach rolled over with nausea. If only those fat cats knew that they had Undercity swine in their mouth. Viktor skimmed the heads, the need to leave growing greater with every moment, before finally landing on what he needed.

“That one- I’ll take that one,” he finally said, mouth twitching down in remorse.

But the ends justify the means, he told himself as he heard the worker unwrapping a plastic ice box.

“May her memory forever be a blessing,” he mumbled as the brain was packed away.

---

Viktor was on a time-crunch now. The ice would be defrosting soon, and then he had to start working- but he couldn’t, not yet.

He needed one last piece of the puzzle, something that clicked and made everything whole. And he knew what it was, knew where to get it- it was just a means of how. The clanking and pulling of the elevator ascending rattled in Viktor’s brain as he zoned out on the doors in front of him, slowly pulling him up into the Promenade.

Piltover, contrary to the Undercity, slept. The moments between midnight and 0500 were dead, not a soul to be found except new Enforcers being tasked for the job no one else wanted to do. Even then, there were only a handful of them in each neighborhood at a time.

Of course, Viktor chose the most heavily guarded of places, never making things easy for himself. But Piltover wasn’t his home. He had been raised with the skills necessary to survive, and that occasionally meant sneaking around, the workers quarters being the easiest to access. Viktor had padded the bottom of his crutch, the grip now worn as he snuck through the halls of his old stomping grounds- no, stomping was the wrong word. He never got to be so bold.

Jayce had become lax with security during their partnership, always leaving the doors to the lab unlocked for whenever Viktor had the mind to stay late. As Viktor grasped the handle to the doors and turned, he thanked the Gods that Jayce hadn’t remedied that quirk. The Hex Core, bold and pulsing, immediately drew him in, like an old friend he hadn’t seen in years, but he corrected himself.

He couldn’t- people would notice.

His eyes trailed to the thick, metal box that housed the Hex Crystals. People wouldn’t notice if one of those went missing, though. Viktor would need more than two hands to count all the times Jayce had dropped a crystal, or misplaced one and just couldn’t find it. Had it not solved Viktor’s exact issue, it would’ve been worrying. Squirreling two away into a velvet-lined pouch, he made sure not to jostle them. He couldn’t have the Hex Core, but he was the one who made it.

The lab was left the same as it was when he entered, no one would know as Viktor shuffled out of the Academy, over the bridge, and back down into his home in the Entresols.

The world in his pocket.

---

The metal skull in his lap was grounding, the neck of his creation angled so that the now intact body would move with his shifts. The small knife in his hand pressed against the calluses of his fingers as he carved into the inside platelets, a series of rotating rings bearing the mark of the arcane. The runes, inscribed in his brain, now being imprinted onto yours.

Dusting off the copper shavings, he tapped a slight jolt of electricity to the metal plates, ensuring that they turned correctly, a sharp spin being the outcome he craved. Perfect.

Viktor set aside the knife, the only sounds in his workshop being that of his movements as he reached for the ice box tucked away in a cold corner of the room. The velvet pouch had long been emptied of the crystals, a synthetic protective case holding the bottoms in place, so as to not harm the delicate tissue of the brain. Careful medicinal wires wedged against the poles of each lobe and cortex, trailing down through the brainstem, just waiting for a power source.

His mother’s jewelry box was next, the latch flicking open and the heart being lifted out, just as perfect as when he’d first put it in. He searched along the breastplate for the nearly indecipherable seam of the thoracic cavity, and the plate switched open, a soft hiss emitting from its hinges. Twisting himself, he lowered the heart into place, soldering the copper and steel together, checking the valves. The cogs fit snugly, and he oiled them as well, just in case. Once it held secure, his fingers brushing any errant dust, he closed the cavity again, putting himself back into his old position.

“Thank you, again,” he whispered to the world, connecting the Hex Crystals to their designated ports in the brain. Balancing carefully, he placed a palm flat on the back of his creation, tilting the machine forward until it sat upright, the joints automatically locking into place. Grabbing a pillow, he positioned it under his knees. The disks, adorned with the runes he’d just carved, sat idle, waiting.

Viktor felt the tremor in his hands, excitement brewing as he uncapped a bottle of shimmer, thinned and enhanced and perfect for what it needed to do. Filling the cavity with the liquid took time, uncapping each new bottle and beginning the process over and over again, waiting for the body to be full of what it would run on, flooding through the veins and coating the bone. After setting the brain gently within the skull, the Hex Crystal pulsed for a fraction of a moment, sensing the runes around them as they glowed like firelights in the night sky. The head plate clicked shut, Viktor’s fingers smoothing over the synthetic hair that covered the divots in the head.

Perfect, absolutely perfect.

It was time.

A trembling breath escaped Viktor, and though he should be connecting the electricity, he didn’t rise from his knees. Gingerly, as if his creation would break beneath his touch, he wrapped his arms around her back, interlacing his fingers as they rested on her stomach. His forehead connected softly with the nape of the neck, just below a thick tube, the epidermis cushioning him.

A deep breath in.

A deep breath out.

“We will be together soon,” he said, his confidence wary, but desperation strong. And then he moved back, hooking up wire after wire to the base of the skull, electricity at the ready. His hands were sweaty as he tightly gripped the lever, reminded of when he first showed Heimerdinger the Hex Core. How proud he had been. An ache filled his chest, wondering if- if this was right. But that deep, bone rattling voice in the back of his head batted the thought away.

They left you, it hissed.

She won’t.

And he yanked the lever.

In the Entresols of the Undercity, sat towering neighborhoods and winding streets, and just as the lights began to flicker on for the night, the windows on a house on Emberflit Alley shattered. The shards rained to the cobblestone below, clinking against ground and littering the street. Just as the neighbors opened their windows and left their homes to see what was happening, the glass, seemingly like magic, reversed itself, fitting back into the window frames, nearly as if nothing had happened at all.

Viktor shielded himself, falling to the ground at the impact as his arms came to brace his face, instinctually turning away, smoke pervading his lungs like creeping vines before retreating rapidly.

“He-llll-ooooo?” A voice called, frightened and unfamiliar. It was unlike anything Viktor had ever heard, crackling like a damaged record on the gramophone.

“Helloooo?” It- she- called again, and Viktor saw you.

Waving through the smoke, you stumbled, legs fumbling like a new-born fawn before you fell, your arms shooting out to catch yourself. The floor splintered underneath your grip, the task new and dealing with an uncontrolled grasp. And from where he sat, frozen in pure and unmitigated delight, Viktor could see the way your pupils contracted and expanded as you took in your surroundings.

“Hi,” he said meekly, and your eyes immediately focused on him, wide and frightened. He opened his arms, a natural show of good faith, and you understood.

The ground thumped beneath your feet, running a bit too fast into him- but it was okay- it was great.

Viktor wrapped you up tightly, gripping at your sides and shoulders as he fell back onto the floor. The weight of another- thing- no, person. He told himself, that’s what you would be, at least to him- it seemed to solve everything. The turmoil in his brain unwinding and floating away as your hands held him close. The grip was tight, but welcome, and you were warm. Warm and supple beneath his fingers, and you were close, and Viktor could already feel the wetness on his eyelashes, threatening to overflow.

Perfect.

Perfect, perfect, perfect.

“I-it’s okay,” he stuttered out, and you put your head into the crook of his neck. Though, maybe he was speaking to himself more than you. “Everything’s okay now.”

#Viktor x reader #Viktor x you #Viktor #Viktor Arcane #Arcane #Arcane (2021)#Arcane x you #Arcane x reader #Arcane Angst #slight fluff #my fics #Synthetic BasicHexTechML

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thehistoriangirl · 2 years

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It Had to Be You... [1/3]

Yes, you read correctly. I went overboard and the first part was going too big, so I cut it in a cliffhanger in three! :3 I’m working on something for booo, spooky month(s)~ but I hope I can post part two soon.

Also, Anon who requested the soulmate AU with Viktor... I’m sorry. It will get better <3</p>

MH! Viktor x Fem!Reader [Soulmate AU]-----8.5K----SFW, but check the tags bc this one is heavy

Synopsis: Viktor spent most of his life loathing the profetic soulmates’ dream. After all, it was the reason everything good in his life escaped from his fingers. Now he had broken the promise of not seeing you again, even promising he will take care of you against your parent’s debt collectors.

But he can't protect you against the hostility built upon your broken friendship and the nightmarish dream it is supposed to be the long-awaited fantasy made reality. And you can't stop the bitter, resentful thoughts polluting your mind: why out of everyone, it had to be you?

Destiny was cruel, why follow it then?

Why was he following it right now?

Just to found you, he supposed.

It was what Viktor said to himself ever since the dreams come haunting his nights, hiding, pushing them away with every fiber of resolution he could summon while facing the spotless white ceiling of his Academy bedroom. Forehead covered in sweat, eyes fluttering erratically with a mix between horror and hatred.

He feared himself. He loathed the dreams, the soulmate bond that tied his heart with yours.

Destiny was a twisted path forged by who knows what, stripping him of true free will.

Down his way to the Undercity, Viktor realized how naïve he was thinking his whole existence that he could escape from this very moment. Nevertheless, he did not slow down his pace, hand firmly grasping his cane and eyes squinting to try to focus his eyes on the overcrowded streets in front of him.

You wouldn’t be here, he realized at seeing the packed streets, neon lights coloring the murky air. He had to get down ever further.

Your last mother's note stuffed deep inside his pocket felt heavy when the streets began to disappear, walls of crooked constructions trying to scratch the sky far away, only a few silhouettes outlining in the pronounced corners of the alleyways filled with waste,

If they were looking at him, he pretended not to notice. His clothes were the same ones he used at the Academy less the white vest and the red tie. They were worn out anyway, dark enough not to attract much attention.

The cane was the problem, but it wasn’t an unknown challenge he didn’t face in his childhood and part of his adolescence. He could probably spare some blows with it if someone could think of him as an easy target. Of course, he could always use the Hexclaw to his advantage, but it was the last resource plan.

Luckily, no one tried to block his way down the abandoned industrial area. Following your mother's letter, you went into hiding at the same spot the Chembaron Rey’s minions burn down the unregistered factory with workers inside, your father among them.

Nobody would think of coming back to the same place everything went to waste, which made the building a perfect hiding spot.

Rey’s workers went to lurk into Viktor’s family house, suspecting you would be hiding in it. But in the place was only an abandoned home, with moss crawling on the walls and dusty surfaces. Years of friendship between your parents and Viktor’s surely were a good starting point for the hunt, but the pursuers omitted the broken bond that came to be with the second generation of both households.

You two may be soulmates, but you weren’t friends. Even if you were, before the dreams.

Viktor stopped to read the old signs in those buildings that still got them: canned products, fishmonger, distilled alcohol, mechanical assembling. He went towards the more destroyed looked one, fire had consumed it, where flames had been licking and devouring the material now only a dark ash stain remained. The door was gone, it seemed a mouth was ready to swallow him whole while steeping inside.

His step echoed in the place like a ripple in a calm lake, the vaulted ceiling ricocheted the sound of his voice muttering your name; a strange sound that Viktor hadn't said out loud since years ago.

It felt like blasphemy.

In the entrance, shadows were already sticking their arms towards his figure, eyes lost in the bottomless black ahead of him.

He adjusted the Hex gemstone in his hand, blue light flooding into the space, sketching the edges of the spare parts of metal and broken machines thrown carelessly into the ground. Distracting himself from the obvious, urgent matter, he eyed some metallic pieces that could be of good use, especially now that he would settle in the Undercity for some time.

Until you could figure out a way to flee from the Undercity and Piltover altogether.

Leaning down to take the pieces and examine them, the noise traveled as resounding as thunder. The pieces were mostly rusty, the metal breaking down with the tap of his cane, and his hands were stained with red.

Approaching a pile of metal that looked eerily familiar. With brows furrowed, Viktor inspected it. “A waste-cleaner golem?”

“You came.” He wasn’t used to the sound of your voice anymore.

“It has been some time.” When you didn’t answer, he shifted his position so the Hexclaw towards where your voice came from. Your features were deepened by the almost white light, a childish part of him ached at the sight of the fine line on your lips, eyes drawn low, framed by tired eyebrows. Your expression screamed you were the one who left.

“Are you staying here?” Well, what a ridiculous question to ask.

Your figure outlined against the light, hands firmly tucked against your chest, eyes adverting him. You nodded. “Nobody comes here, they said it’s haunted.”

“Well, let’s go. It’s a long way up to Piltover.”

Your eyes widened, shining like stars he hadn't seen in a long time. “Are you taking me with you?”

He furrowed. “Of course. Why would I come all the way here otherwise?

You shrugged. “I guess I’m not used to… your ways anymore.” Your kindness anymore floated around him with enough power to strand his voice.

“Eh, I believe you would be safer Topside,” he had to say, even if the grasp in his cane intensified, metal clawing at his skin. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

Your eyes were darker than Viktor remembered when you gazed briefly at him, his heart leaping euphoric in his chest. There was no smile, only a heavy gaze directed towards the floor after a brief interaction of both stares. You didn’t even ask about the strange light that originated from above his shoulder, the long metallic arm looming over you like a cyclops.

“Thank you, for helping me.” You paused, almost the ghost of a smile appearing in the shadow on your lips. “I own you one.”

Viktor turned, the light directed towards the ceiling, sinking you two in darkness. That way, you couldn’t see the bitter smile contorting his face. “It’s the last thing I can do…” after I abandoned you; “for your mother’s sake.” But he didn't dare to look straight into your adult, unknown face, much less say it audible enough for you. So he only imagined his confession floating around the frozen time inside the factory.

“Let’s go before it’s nightfall," he said instead, already walking away from the golem and you, each metallic thump of his cane disguising the frenetic pulse hitting his ribcage. Viktor only looked back to tend you a bag filled with seeds, dry fruit, and one sandwich.

“Don’t you need to rest?" Mumbling, you followed him, and then again, he pretended not to note all the memories your shadows intertwined cast upon his mind, of a time when the sky shone brighter enough to lay in the riverbank and stargaze until the chilly air of the night made you hug to keep the warmth, or when the flicking light in the living room outlined your figures while trying to sneak inside the kitchen for more cookies even though it was past bedtime.

"The faster we get out of this, the better." Alleviated that you couldn't see his jaw tightened, eyes burning with angry tears. Viktor was cursing at destiny again for ousting him of the only person who could love him entirely for who he was.

Looking back at your defeated, hurtful expression, he hated himself a little more.

*~*~*~*

Life in Piltover wasn’t better, safer, yes, but you weren’t happy either. Viktor and you lived in a small apartment near the Academy District, but you rarely saw each other most of the time. He was too busy developing new Hextech devices, and you were occupied too, first studying to present your Academy admission exam, and then going to classes and making projects.

You still remembered the flicking hope of your heart, thinking that Viktor could be behind the idea.

“Not thank me, it was Jayce’s doing,” he quickly retorted while entering the house. It was way past midnight, and the already cold dinner you used to prepare before enrolling at the Academy looked strangely comical in the middle of the table, a lonely spot prepared. “Goodnight.”

"Aren't you going to eat something?" Tugging at the hem of your pajamas, your stupid heart skipped for an instant while he fixed his golden eyes on you, even if only for a second.

“No. I’m not hungry.”

You stopped trying then. Sure, you may owe him to help you out of the Undercity when the recent assassination of your mother left you with only a burned factory, rage and sadness mixing in a whirling hurricane inside your chest that every day became bigger and monstrous. The house was empty anyway, and Viktor wouldn’t notice the nights or entire days you went inside your room, only to be wrapped around in a blanket, crying with throat-tearing sobs and wails that died down as quickly as the doorknob was turned, his steps echoing in the wood as he made his direct way to his room, the first door in the hallway.

But the tears didn’t go away, only drowned in silence as you tried to pour all the emotions out, only to discover that the otherwise lake scarred in your soul was now an immense ocean, bottomless and dark.

You poured all your being into Chemistry, the studies served as the perfect excuse to avoid each other as much as possible. But even so, they were some points when you had to talk and pretend to be, at least, good roommates. For example, when Jayce visited with dinner under his arm, or every Viktor’s or your birthday.

Those were the worst days, which left you with a heavy presence of sadness inside your chest, jaw stiffen for too much pressure put on it, plastering a supposedly happy smile. But the physical pain was nothing compared with the weighted nostalgia of past joyous days that would never come back.

At least you could say Viktor and you were happy, once.

Then everything became much grimmer. Not even with the two of you trying the path would look straight again.

It was too late.

*~*~*~*

Death didn’t scare him as much as oblivion. But who will remember him? Nobody. Not only because his dreams of making human lives in the Undercity better were so far away his numbered days wouldn't be enough, but because the only people who did see him as something more than a poor genius with a lot of potential probably hated him.

And he wanted you to do that, knowing he deserved your aversion with each cold stare and detached sentences he threw at you as it was a mere obligation. He could see the gloominess clinging to your feature that nothing had to do with exhaustion, it was just hopelessness.

As he debated between dying without giving a fight, meaning you would be safe from the merciless destiny he contemplated every other night in his dreams or trying to survive only because the look on your face after knowing his diagnosis out of Jayce's mouth was enough to shatter his heart even more.

He didn’t think you could cry for him, nevertheless the pain he inflicted with total awareness into your heart. But your eyes were shining with tears, and the yellow light of the lamp on the table traced its way down your cheeks. Hands shaking, still unsure, interlaced against your lap as if to cut off the intention to extend your fingers and touch him.

Could he be more selfish? Existing only to torture you? But he didn’t want to leave you. A part of him that he loathed more than the soulmate’s dream wanted you to touch him, to jump into the side of the bed and hold him, your voice soothing his fears away as he did when you were little. Viktor never wanted to leave you in the first place, but destiny pushed him—or at least that was the lie he tried to stick into his head, but it was all an excuse.

This time, looking at the gleaming Hexcore, he was completely aware that excuses would be useless once he began to walk down that path. And he still did, believing the worst that could happen was losing his own life.

It was at that point he began to fear himself, with ashes staining his fingers, he remembered the dream where they were not grey but red, and they felt not soft against the dust, but sticky and cold, but he knew both Sky and you would share the same amount of guilt inside his mind.

I will do it again, was the only thought poisoning his brain. I will kill again. Viktor could recognize his last cue, appearing as a despairful wall he knocked into, but at least his demise would mean you would have your recovered freedom back.

Right? Stopping in his tracks, with the Enforcers lined up at each of his sides dragging him up the hallway into the improvised Council room. But while the trial developed, Viktor understood once he was cast away, you would be, too. After all, they only barely accepted you because he got Jayce to ask nicely about you joining the Academy. Now the rift between the two cities grew until becoming an unsolvable abyss that would devour you at the first opportunity.

He gritted his teeth at the thought. Once again, he tried to defy destiny, once again you would be dragged into the dirt because of him.

While walking down into the bridge that joined Zaun and Piltover, he wanted to extend his free hand and tug yours that was absently playing with one loose thread of your sweater. Viktor wished to promise that everything would be alright, returning to the Undercity meant nothing, he would never give you away. He will protect you, but would you believe him?

Sometimes, he couldn’t fully convince himself of it. His dreams would disregard, too.

“Not separate from me, yes?” he mumbled instead, the Enforcers escorted them stopping at the middle of the bridge, your steps expanding in the eerily silence of the city border, houses inhabited with their cracked walls and crashed windows. His free hand tickled when you stepped next to him.

You nodded, putting your hands inside the sweater, away from his. When Viktor looked from the corner of his eye, you had the same deep, lost expression the first he saw you inside the abandoned factory.

If the first time he couldn’t pick on it, he sure did now. The remnants of the afternoon sunlight outlining the angles of your face popped in red hues as copper inside your eyes, and hope burned down until nothing was left.

*~*~*~*

In another universe just like this once, he could have died in peace knowing you would remain safe in Piltover, concluding your Chemistry studies and becoming part of the researchers at the Academy with Jayce looking out for you from afar. He’d asked him as a last favor. You’d cried, but the tears would dry away someday, loss filled with work or hope of a better future.

You had forgotten him. And it would have been dreadful, but he'd be relieved.

This, however, was just a punishment.

When people said time would heal everything, they were lying. Even if he tried to fantasize about the possibility, Viktor knew it was of no use. In the end, it was a fantasy, a dream.

Then why did he give so much importance to the soulmate's dream? Much more if he didn't wish to believe in it.

Because he was scared his brashness could end up hurting you, as it happened back then to Sky. And his soulmate destiny prophesized just so. Viktor still remembered the first time the dream weaved together in a logical scene, like a colored movie. He would always remember the stakes he had to lose.

That he would lose you.

He woke up covered in sweat with shaky hands and feeling dizzy and lost every time. Only that he couldn’t go to you for guidance and comfort, not anymore. In this tale, he was the monster.

Time passed, unmerciful, and he did what he must to put you in a safe place—further than at arm’s length. Viktor drifted you apart from him, enrolling at Piltover’s Academy, trying to convince himself all the soulmate-related stories were charades he was actively fighting against. Maybe that way he could forget you and drive away the nightmares that plagued his nights.

But they never left. You never left. Not even now, when his soulmate's dreams were supposed to be long gone.

It was good he didn’t need to sleep as much anymore, a very good improvement.

Sitting alone in his laboratory equipped in the old factory he found you years ago, he contemplated absently the tools arranged neatly on the worktable, the metal shining against the permanently lighten Hexclaw now implanted in his shoulder. His metallic fingers touched the worn-out wood, leaving a slight scratch on the surface.

Viktor could pretend all his augmentations were searching for his prior goal of saving his life, even improving his physiognomy while carving the way into his dream of helping the people of Zaun. But they were secondary, deep down he knew it.

He was trying to outrun the human part of him that feared his dream, that was terrified of death, thinking once he reached a certain point, he would just stop being human, he would stop feeling his stomach fluttering each time he caught a peek of your hair going inside your laboratory.

If he wasn’t human anymore, then he could stop caring about you. But then why he wanted to stop fearing only so he could love you freely again? Fear was the only thing that blocked him from bursting out his feelings for you.

He sighed, a distilled, bright yellow liquid shining on a needle. It was supposed to block temporally the fear receptors in the human brain, your last invention answering his petition. And yet he couldn’t gather the courage to prove it.

Blitzcrank went out the further room localized in the second plant of the factory rustic remodeling using mostly discarded items and the three imaginative capacities to thinker decorations. Viktor saw the golem closing the door with a soft movement of his gigantic hands, almost making no sound at all.

It meant you were sleeping.

The golem’s valvules whistled with released steam when he descended the stairs with muffled metallic sounds thanks to an old carpet covering the steps.

“How is she?" he tried to sound as uninterested as when you talked to him, but the robot was his creation, after all, restless nights upon hectic days between his patients and his side projects, adding the enormous effort he had to make to avoid you, or at least to try not no to engage as much as he could.

"Mother is recovering quickly," he said, eyes flicking while seeing Viktor pondering on his worktable. "Do wish to see her?"

“No, y/n must be sleeping at this point.”

“That’s the reason I ask, Father. You seem to prefer looking at Mother while she doesn’t notice.”

His brows furrowed. “That’s— that’s none of your concern. Go see the patients, Blitzcrank.”

“Mother was right. You are ang—”

“Blitzcrank, now.”

The golem tried to shrug, only sinking his head inside his round body. Viktor noticed him doing it as another one of the gestures he copied from you. Turning around and walking away, he briefly thought you had made a very cheeky, unfilial robot.

Of course, he didn’t dare to complain.

The golem went inside the back room where Viktor's patients were treated, the second bigger room in the house aside from his lab, something like looked somehow like a clinic, even if it wasn't even close to one real Piltovan hospital.

Only when he was sure Blitzcrank was inside the room, he dared to stand up from his stool and make his way into the second floor.

You seem to prefer looking at Mother while she doesn’t notice. He mumbled something under his breath about Blitzcrank being so meddlesome for being a gigantic robot. But Viktor stopped right in from of your room, in the middle of the hallway, between your own little lab and Viktor's bedroom—even if he barely went inside anyway.

It was an unspoken deal, the first plant was his territory, and the upper floor was yours. He barely went up; you seldom went down unless you were required to assist him with some patient while the golem was on his regular missions of cleaning the nearest body of water and recovering some metal spare parts.

Being here felt wrong. But part of him wanted to be sure you were okay. He knew he never should let you go out on a mission with Blitzcrank, after all, the golem was almost indestructible. You were still human. And Chembaron Rey hadn't forgotten the gigantic debt his parents leaked from his Shimmer inventory to create new, more helpful variants. A burned that only fell into your shoulders now.

He could still feel the way his stomach seemed to sink at his feet when the robot entered carrying you in his arms, barely conscious and bleeding. The golem explained that you two ran into some of Rey’s minions while searching for the source of pollution of the river. They recognized you and wanted to take you away to pay for your parent’s deeds that not even death could forgive.

Blitzcrank could defend himself, but he left you out from infiltrating the bowels of the factory, not contemplating some minions were patrolling the place from all angles. Luckily, you were a competent fighter since you were kids, your parents were too self-aware of the dangerous heists they committed, preparing their only child to defend herself when the time comes.

Leaning his forehead against your door, he remembered you didn’t like to fight, though. You two were one of the few kids in the Undercity that didn’t have to fight with nails and teeth to survive.

Until now. But you weren’t children anymore.

“I want to go with Blitzcrank,” you had stated in the early morning, one of the peculiar days you spoke to him directly. “I’m not asking you for permission.”

“That’s not new of you.” Of course, he had to blabber nonsense now. Viktor wanted to take that back, but his pride won't let him. "You're not going. What if you end up hurt?"

“I prefer it that staying here alone with you all day.”

And that commentary made him angry. "Suit yourself then, but not come here to bother me if you end up wounded."

And you didn’t. Blitzcrank entered and he complied to take you to your bedroom after throwing in the ground all the spare parts Viktor asked him to recollect on his way back. Even if he wanted to say something about your clothes stained with blood, Viktor pretended not to care, back hunched into his worktable even if his hands were empty from any tinkering device.

But he did care, perhaps a little too much. That was his problem.

He opened the door and peeked at the dark inside, the Hexclaw misdirecting its light against the wall so it wouldn't wake you up. But Viktor couldn't distinguish your figure on the bed, everything was lost in black.

Thinking about the experimental serum he made, still shining like pure sunlight on the table, he imagined a world where he was valiant enough to inject himself with it, to cross the threshold of your door and sit at the edge of your bed just to see you were sleeping at ease.

Maybe in that world, he would deserve to have you as his soulmate.

Viktor closed the door and went down the stairs. The golem was already there, watching him as he descended each step.

"What did she ask you?" he said stepping to the bottom of the stairs. It was pointless to try to hide the truth from Blitzcrank.

“If you were angry at her, for ended up hurt.”

He couldn't even dare to look in the direction of your bedroom for the rest of the night.

Destiny was cruel, but Viktor was crueler.

That was the reason he despised himself so much.

He should’ve just let you go, but he was selfish. Oh, so selfish. And he was terrified. Every threat here could end up in your death—and he would be guilty of it, no matter how indirect his presence could be.

Viktor would only look back at his dreams mockingly repeating: I told you so.

Now he didn't sleep as much as an average human would need, but he still took naps from time to time, mostly with his head leaned against his folded arms over the worktable on lazy and silent nights like this one.

Once again, he was woken up by Blitzcrank moving his shoulder slightly. The golem couldn't show emotions, but his words always highlighted his mood.

“Do you still have dreams, Father? Mother told me she lost them years ago.”

I don’t think she’s talking about the same dreams. “Yes, I do.”

“And how dreams work, Father?” The golem sat on the ground in front of Viktor’s table, attentive to everything he could say.

“I’m not well versed in that matter, but I believe we pick up elements from our everyday life and then we mixed it with past experiences and any strong emotion we could be feeling.” He paused, unsure to continue. “They… they tend to be illogical.”

Blitzcrank stretched his fingers. “Then they can’t be trusted.” Viktor nodded. “But why do you trust yours so much then?”

Maybe it was the eerie silence that extended, not even Blitz’s valvules filling them, or perhaps the culpable was himself, finally surrendering to reality.

“There’s only one dream that would become reality, Blitzcrank. That’s why I trust it even if I don’t want to.”

The robot seemed cautious now. “May I ask what the dream it’s about, Father?”

"I…" his voice faded out. "She… she dies in my dream." Swallowing, with a broken voice, he added, as if to cut off any doubt, even if every syllable was coated with the bitter acre taste of blood. "She dies right in my arms."

It's my fault, if I love her, she would die right in my arms.

If only it were so easy to fall out of love with you.

*~*~*~*

Blitzcrank was out on a mission when you woke up the next morning. It could be a possibility Viktor was the one behind such a tricky plan, but you quickly discarded the idea. In your slumber last night, you heard the door cracked open, and even if an immature, stupid part of you wished it were him.

“Blitz?” you muttered, sitting down at the edge of your creaking bed. But the robot wasn’t at the threshold holding a glass of water. “What are you doing?”

“You slept in, so I came to check if you are alright.” He looked slightly flustered, fidgeting with the glass rim, and tapping at its bottom.

"I'm alright, thanks." Your side screamed in agony as you tried to stretch your left leg into the ground, with lips pressed firmly together, you went on moving as if a sharply burning bolt wasn't traveling all the way from your waist into your head. "You can go now, I'm sure you're busy."

He was always for you, anyway.

"In fact, Blitzcrank told me to help you stand up until he could go back." It was a half-lie, but you didn't have the chance to verify until the return of the golem.

You blinked slowly, a sarcastic laugh trying to bubble out your throat. “I don’t need to go out anywhere.” Please just leave me alone. "Besides, you told me not to bother you, so I won't." Each one of your words made his adverting eyes wider, and you knew that if he could still blush, his face and neck would be painted with hot pink.

"I didn't—I didn't mean it," his voice sounded strained. "I'm sorry."

"You should leave," you said softly, tucking your legs inside the covers and turning your back towards his figure standing half in the hallway and half in your room, that way he couldn't see the wince of the pain of your rash movements, feeling the stitching in your waist began to damp; "before I began to believe you still care for me. It's wicked."

You heard his sharp inhale before the door was shut closed.

When tears blurred your vision, you blamed the stab wound.

Hours passed, and the light began to dim, but the golem didn't return. Anxiety rose from the pit of your stomach to your throat. You heard familiar steps going up and down the stairs, but always stopping midway into the hallway before going back.

You were losing blood with every minute you kept laying in bed, and you were aware of the stupid mortal situation yourself was placed into. Too proud to call Viktor for help, too weak to stand up and do the stitches yourself, too unlucky to hope for an early arrival of Bliztcrank now that you needed him the most.

But another part, the one that every day contaminated with thoughts of giving up slowly crept into your mind, turning off the rapid heartbeat rushing in your ears, dimming the sunlight, and filling in with penumbras the little bedroom's surroundings.

Sweat covered your brow, a fever running into your veins, but you never felt colder. Every blow of air from the ajar window made your teeth clatter.

You tucked further into the covers, shallow breaths barely moving the fabric. Perhaps it was the best, that way you would stop pestering Viktor. This almost half a decade had been a complete hell for both of you, and you knew you were the only guilty part.

Your mother should never ask him for help, the old golden days were gone since the first time the damned soulmate's dream made itself clear. A sad smile broke into your dry lips, thinking of all the possibilities when another stranger ended up being your soulmate, someone far away from Zaun or even Piltover. You would be like those hundreds, maybe thousands, of people who never met their soulmates.

And it would have been better. But of course, it had to be him. The only friend you could maintain over your younger days, he had to be your soulmate and he had despised you since he, too, realized.

But then why did he come back? You couldn't avoid hating him, even if only a little. What a such grim life, and all for what? You weren't sure.

If you don’t love me, then let me go.

Shivering, you closed your eyes when fatigue sieged each limb. The wound stopped pulsing, and the sounds traveled from far away, muffled as if you were underwater.

If you don’t love me, then let me go.

Years trapped inside this bedroom, this floor, this factory. You finally glimpsed an exit, outlined in bloody bedsheets and sweaty clothes. You could almost touch the dark, cold handle.

Further away, in another world, someone shook you up.

“…bleeding out… infection…”

“…urgent intervention.”

You wanted to push the hands away as they pick you up, descending the stairs. No! You didn't want to go. You were too tired to pretend you could endure this life.

“…let me… go," you tried to babbler, but you could barely move your lips. Everything was too further away to try and grasp it.

You thought it was another one of your delusions, only talking in your head. But then the one carrying you spoke back, putting you on a cold metal table, and the icy surface imprinted in your bones.

“I can’t,” Viktor muttered, nearer than his voice could ever be, hands cupping your cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

*~*~*~*

Blitzcrank went to retrieve Shimmer, among other tools. Both of them knew your aversion to the neon pink drug, but your wound was too deep to pretend it could heal on its own without a real doctor and proper care.

It was the only way to survive, and sure you did. Viktor made a mix between Shimmer and other substances to recreate the one running for his own body—and the dozens of patients he’d helped.

When you woke up you felt the energy filling every cell of your body, senses sharp and ready to snap at the minimum stimulation. The place was unknown, you weren't in the common intervention area, but it wasn't your room either.

Which only meant…

You jumped out of the bed, of Viktor’s bed, to be precise. The room was almost bare except for some piles of books tucked against the wall and a closed closet, curtains drawn, the room was dark.

“Where are you going?” His eyes lighten up like golden traps ready to snatch at his prey. “I believe you aren’t completely recovered.” He was sitting on a chair in the darkness, one of his legs resting against his left knee, Hexclaw turned off.

“You inject me with Shimmer.” The reclaim wasn’t as much for the drug as for the fact he saved you even when you told him explicitly not to. “My parents died for the thing traveling down my veins and you still put it inside me?"

“I didn’t have a choice.” Your jaw clenched while he adverted your pink glare.

“You had always had a choice regarding me, why not now?” You decided to despise me; your words felt like acid, hatred buried down for years resurfacing now his familiar face couldn’t lead you away with self-piteous memories of the past. “I never thought you could be so selfish.”

“I can’t let a patient die if is in my hands to save—”

“I’m NOT your patient!” You laughed, and your dry throat went sore. "I'm nothing to you, I guess I shouldn't even be surprised."

"Did you really want me to let you die?" If the curtains were open, he would've seen you cry.

“You can’t pretend you don’t know the answer,” you snarled, nails digging blood from your palm, the sudden pain distracting you from crying. You were too tired to shed tears for nothing. “Do you enjoy making me miserable? Answer me!”

There was a knot installed in your throat, making every word out and tearing your voice in irregular notes. "You kept me like a specimen, close enough not to lose it, but as possibly far as it could be because it’s repulsive.”

He scoffed. “For things like this is why I wish you weren’t my soulmate.”

Silence expanded, consuming any reply that could be forming. Hot tears accumulated on the border of your eyes. Furious fingers went for the doorknob, the cold metal welcoming a hurt, raging body.

You opened the door and gray light illuminated the veiled look of pure hostility you gave the sitting shadow behind you.

“If you wished so, then you would have let me die.”

He blinked, resentment dimming in his twin golden flames. “Wait—"

“Your people are being killed because Rey wants to lure you into giving me to him,” you snorted barely, a low sound that was muffled with the creaking of the door. “But you do not seem to care? I want to know why.” Your nails dug in the wood, but the tears weren’t stopping. “If you hate me, you should let me go. All your problems would solve if I leave.”

"Then you would end up dead," he retorted, stood up, and went with two decisive steps towards you, not too close to feel your warmth, but enough so the light could bathe him too. “I make a promise to your mother to keep you safe.”

“She’s dead!" you yelled, feeling the strings on your heart being pulled to a breaking point. “Ghosts don't matter, Viktor. They’re in the past, just like… like us.”

His eyes widened, lips before pressed in a thin line, now falling into forming a slightly open 'O', eyebrows arched, he looked like a child, and you couldn’t hate him more for it.

”We… we were happy before, I'm sure we were." With voice broken, you tried to search his eyes for an answer, where all that disdain originated from, unsuccessfully. “But we’re not those children anymore, we will never come back. ”

You had to lean into the door for support when you lost your balance, cold wood against your boiling brow; a pulse in your side remembering to not push you too hard.

“You didn’t have to love me, not like that. It would have been enough for me to remain friends. But you… retreat, you left. And I would never know why,” you chuckled, succumbing to the sobs piling up in your throat. “I remember when I had nightmares in the old apartment, I comment that darkness wasn’t as scary as what Rey could do to me when he finds me, but guess what? This is much worse.”

He called out your name, like a plea for you to stop.

“Then you should have let me rest in peace! ” your wail caught him off guard. His nose wrinkled when he growled:

“I did it to protect you!”

“Don’t pretend you care for me after everything—” you swallowed, throat went sore but you were nowhere done. “Viktor, you aren’t responsible for me or my actions by any means. Death is out of your control, no matter how much you want to convince yourself it isn’t. My death is always present. I’m not like you, I’m going to die sooner or later because my body is built that way. Neither it’s an accident or an assault, it’s not your fault not your duty to stop it.” Your voice was a mere whisper, thin and broken. “I don’t want you to stop it.”

He loomed over you like a dark giant, burning gaze and tense muscles, but he didn’t say anything.

“Please just let me go,” you said blatantly, slipping into the hallway to the first plant and then inside the back room. Not even once you looked back.

Not even when you felt his gaze follow your every step down the stairs.

*~*~*~*

It was another empty, boring afternoon with neither patients nor any new project to work on. Viktor went out after some minutes you went inside the back room and closed the door behind you, making no sound besides the clear slam of the metallic door, and Blitzcrank was out on a mission, retrieving more Shimmer and other solutions, as you could peek into the crooked shelves hanged in the south and east walls of the room, empty glasses shining with the residuals of the pink drug.

The metallic table when Viktor and Blitzcrank treated you was still dirty, a worn-out fabric that once was part of one of your shirts tossed into the surface stained with black spots where your blood spilled and dried.

Your hands answer your plea to distract as you went to retrieve some clothes to clean off the place and wash the empty glass vessels, occupying the last hours of clear light before the windows built in the superior part of the wall tinted with a dirty red, almost brown.

It was dark when you closed the door of the back room, the laboratory dimly illuminated by the emergency lights, nor was the golem or Viktor coming back yet.

The place never felt more bigger and solitary, thinking that in the shadows of the factory loomed the ghosts of those restless workers that were only trying to help their people.

“Dad?” you muttered into a dark corner, your voice echoed pitifully into the void. "I'm sorry. Please tell mom that I’m sorry, too.”

Your steps became lighter against the concrete up the stairs, your ears attentive to any new sound coming from the main entrance. The hallway was dark as you stumbled into its end, opening Viktor’s room. Ignoring the sour memories of your last conversation, you approached the window, barely locked with a rusty hook that gave up with one light pull.

You looked back at the unmade bed, the seat Viktor occupied while you were unconscious directing your vision towards the closed door. But you climbed the window’s sill nevertheless.

It was too late; it was too much.

Hoping outside, the cold air of the night gave you chills. You waited for a few blinks to your eyes to grow accustomed to the darkness, the edges of the buildings illuminated by faint moonlight.

It had been a long time since you used your skill to slip out of your parent's house when unwelcomed guests arrived, breaking the door, and raiding the place. Those times you ran away into the alleyway that, after jumping at the other side, began in a street that led you straight into Viktor’s home.

We’re not those children anymore, we will never be again.

With a sad smile, you jumped.

*~*~*~*

Viktor had a lot of time to think over the soulmate dream once he put you in his bedroom and closed the door to let you rest. During all the procedure his hands would've shaken if they weren't augmented, but the fear never let his side, leaving chilly breaths in the back of his neck every time he saw your pale face, lips partly open.

Your last words shook him so deeply, it was probably his pretended shell that was affected with some cracks once he finished.

Would the dream be over now that he got you dying in his arms? After all, it was exactly what the dream foretold. There was blood covering his hands, and you were pale, with fluttering eyelids.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror, a defeated expression washed over his face as a grimace, flat lips in a tense line, furrowed brows, and dropped shoulders. Was it over? But at what cost?

Viktor wanted to cry at the new shocking discovery that destiny wasn’t cruel, he was the heartless one. In other circumstances, if he would've just pushed aside his fear and taken on any other challenge, this would've never happened.

Putting harshly aside the strands of hair falling onto his face, he rolled against the wall into the floor, legs falling against the cold tiles. In another life, he would take you to Piltover to live there together until they both decided to come back into aiding your hometown. He probably would’ve married you if you’d had him.

But now? Even if he wanted to start over, he knew you would never let him. He hoped you didn’t.

You weren’t friends anymore, and every day you became more enemies than strangers. He heard the hatred in your voice, and as much as his heart shattered, he knew he deserved it.

He had lost you, and probably the thing that hurt the most was that he was an active part of it—he was the only reason. Your love could only go so far facing cold disdain and fake courtesy.

What to do? He was stuck. Viktor didn’t have the guts to apologize, because what an apology could do? And he dreaded to tell you the truth, how would you see him if he told you that in the soulmate’s dream, he let you die?

He didn’t even know if you considered him a monster now that he wasn’t human anymore. How much of a monster can he become in your eyes?

Viktor was already stressed out when you opened your eyes, but his nerves rise to a breaking point when you told him you wanted to die.

Wasn’t destiny so twisted?

He didn’t wander far, staying in front of the building in case you wanted to go out without him or Blitzcrank, tucked against one crumbled wall of an old factory of canned food. My death isn’t on you, you said.

Was it the truth? He should tell you, about the dream. But Viktor wasn’t thinking straight since your procedure. He did everything wrong, from the beginning, and now it didn’t seem like it could deserve a return point.

When he entered the factory, it was dark and quiet.

He sat carelessly in front of his worktable, the Hexclaw illuminated in a golden hue the instruments and part of the stairs, and the clock in a wall chimed midnight while he was thinking about how to proceed.

You were quiet, too. The golem that used to make your company was on a mission on the opposite side of the city, from where he wouldn't be supposed to come back until tomorrow afternoon. Should he go to check on you? But what if you were still awake?

The needle with the yellow liquid enlightened with the artificial light was mocking him. A solution as desperate and ridiculous as he felt.

Viktor was beginning to think he couldn’t stretch this situation much longer, not when the bitter sensation of almost losing you still made his chest press despite trying to convince himself it was only a reaction to extreme stress.

The reality was he was more aware than ever of how important you were to him. But he didn't have the guts to go talk to you after the terribly wrong encounter you two have earlier. He took a couple of deep breaths, taking the cold metal of the syringe, heavier it was supposed to be.

It wasn’t the first time he tested his, or your, formulas on himself, but this one the first occasion he would do so while fulfilling his agenda.

He didn’t make a sound when the needle pierced over the tube that would make the drug travel down his entire body.

When he sprinted upstairs, fearing how much time the effect would hold, the heavy sensation seated in his stomach intensified when you weren't in your lab. Your notes weren’t there, just as some of the vials filled with tested liquids.

Frowning, he knocked into your dormitory. Nobody answered, not even when he pronounced your name. Opening the door, only the bare bed welcomed him with a dried-blood stain on the mattress.

You weren’t there, not in the bathroom, not in the back room when he ran downstairs, hoping to see you napping there.

Could it be? A ball began to tangle in his stomach, made of rusty wire and scraps of pointy metals, picking into every muscle and organ, fabricated or not. It was fear, dread making its way up his throat, accelerating his breath, making his pulse rage in his ears.

His bedroom was empty, too. But he caught the window open slightly, wind moving the tied curtain.

You were gone.

A gasp escaped his lips as he collapsed to the ground, both hands deep against his scalp, pulling his hair out of desperation.

“Collect yourself, she can’t be very far.” Before he could know what he was doing, Viktor was already sprinting out of the factory, metallic echoes navigating between the building corpses that looked like their broken windows, laughing at him.

The streets were as empty as his heart felt, depleted of adrenaline once he encountered the end of the industrial zone. Running, his breath got out like fog with each pant he gave, but the gigantic industrial zone was deserted no matter how many times he circled each corner.

You aren’t responsible for me or my actions by any means. Was that your way to tell him…?

He stopped.

“What did you do?” he grumbled, but for once his fury wasn't there when he wished to vent. Replaced by unfathomable hopelessness. “Oh, Janna, what did I do?”

#dedicated to my impostor syndrome #arcane viktor #viktor fanfic #arcane viktor x reader #viktor/you #arcane viktor x you #viktor/reader #machine herald x reader #Viktor the Machine Herald #arcane fanfic #machine herald viktor x reader #arcane angst #it had to be you it'll always be you #my thingies :)

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