#arcane reader insert

[cheeriecherrymain]

papa!Viktor blurb, anyone?

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

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

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

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

This is how the world will remember his name.

At least, he hopes.

But then he meets you.

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

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

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

Except...

You don't leave.

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

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

You must be bored, he thinks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now he looks forward to seeing you.

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

Things progress...surprisingly natural.

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

Looking at you with ill-contained admiration and affection.

You can't not kiss him.

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

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

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

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

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

Claiming you.

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

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

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

His.

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

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

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

...until everything changes.

You miss a period.

You tell him about it.

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

But deep down, you know.

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

You know something is amiss.

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

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

You're both terrified, of course.

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

Neither of you ever thought you'd become parents.

And certainly not right now.

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

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

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

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

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

That he wanted this with you, and was excited?

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

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

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

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

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

That garners a laugh from him.

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

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

He takes you again.

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

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

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

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

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

The hunger, the exhaustion, the aches and pains.

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

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

What he doesn't expect is his own desire.

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

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

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

He can't resist you.

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

He can't resist you.

You're insatiable.

So is he.

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

Nearly every day, you beg for him.

He loves you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sigh happily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The tears begin again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After all, he would do anything, for her.

His greatest creation.

#viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #arcane x reader #viktor headcanons #viktor blurb #viktor reader insert #arcane reader insert #i am slowly rising from the dead whoops

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Caitlyn and Vi reactions when reader wakes up from a nightmare and acidenatally slaps them on their face cause they were still little bit in the nightmare?

(Hey! Here ya go, Enjoy!)

Reader Slapping Caitlyn & Vi

Caitlyn

She is familiar with nightmares

She had a bunch after the explosion in the town square by Jinx

So she gets that you have nightmares and get scared by them shitless

So when she woke up to you moving around in bed all crazy

She knew what was up

She quickly woke you up and was gobsmacked

You smacked the ever living shit out of her

When you registered it was your girlfriend you both just stared at each other

“...Was there really a need for that?”

You kept apologizing to the point she started laughing

You felt bad but she felt that it was sorta her fault for just shaking you awake

She’ll tell you that it’s okay and whatever

But she will sleep a little ways away from you

Sheis not taking anymore chances

Vi

Vi has a lot of nightmares, not that she would openly admit

A lot of from when was in prison and a lot with Powder in them

They often get to be a lot so she knows how nightmares can affect someone

She knows something is up when she feels you thrashing around in bed

She’ll get up fast and get you to wake up

But turns out, you started fighting her out of fear and accidentally slapped her 

And hard

Vi kinda didn’t even notice it at first

She grabbed your arms and had to calm you down

After that was all did and done she finally felt the stinging in her cheek

“Wait, did you fucking slap me?”

Like Caitlyn, will bust out laughing so hard

You just have to join in as she is almost falling out of the bed

She will apologize for waking you up like that and startling you enough to slap her

But she will always keep mentioning it

“Can you hold this?”

“Vi, you're capable of doing it yourself.”

“Remember when you slapped me? For no apparent reason? Hmm?”

She will use it to her advantage

#arcane headcanon #arcane reader #arcane vi #arcane powder #arcane x reader #arcane #caitlyn arcane #caitlyn headcanon #caitlyn x reader #arcane caitlyn #caitlyn kiramman #vi arcane x reader #vi arcane #arcane vi x reader #arcane violet #vi x reader #arcane caitlyn x reader #piltovers finest #arcane reader insert

[uraveragelonelyhuman]

Reuniting With Ekko, Vi And Viktor

EKKO

You had been a kid taken in by Vander

And he was friends with a man named Benzo, who had also taken a kid under his wing

So, you had always been close to Ekko and Powder most out of all the kids

Being closer to their age and all

You all were together everyday, never leaving each other's side

You and Ekko were hanging out one day when you saw a strange man come into the shop

You both could tell he wasn't from the Undercity

And he paid Ekko in gold, Ekko charged him double price with your convincing

And after you both followed him to his pretty apartment in Piltover

And you could tell he was rich, or had rich connections

So when you guys came back you told Vi, she was proud as hell of you both

And her, Powder, Claggor and Mylo left to rob the apartment

That was the start of it all

Vander was taken, Benzo was killed and in the middle of the night after staying with Ekko to help him, you felt the ground shake

You panicked, telling Ekko to stay there in the shop as you ran like hell

When you got there Vi was leaning against a wall as she sobbed

You kneeled down beside her to check on her, worried as she looked at you shocked

Then you both looked up, seeing the man recognized as Silco standing above your best friend on the ground

You both bolted, standing up to go get her before you were hit on the head

You fell to the ground, your conscious abandoning you

When you woke up, you were in a stone cell with Vi shaking you

You both were in prison, you thought they couldn't keep you there without trial o question

But you were wrong

Simply because you were from the Undercity, they kept you both there

For seven years

Vi kept you safe, you were all she had

But you both wanted out

And one day you got it

When a certain someone came around with a drawing of a monkey

You finally came back to the Undercity, looking for Powder and Ekko

And you found Powder, just not in the way you thought

And then you were ambushed by people in masks

One you swore you saw before, lingering in the shadows

And then you woke up in a random room

The one in the mask leaning against a wall

You opened your eyes, your head hurt like hell from being knocked out. You groaned as you sat up, rubbing your head as you looked around. You looked in the corner, a ray of light seeping in until you saw something.

Leaning against a wall, in the shadows a man with a white owl mask leaned against a wall. You glared, standing up as you clenched your fists.

"Who the hell are you?" You asked, your guard fully up as he slowly stepped out of the shadows.

"Why the hell am I here? Why won't you fucking answer?!" You yelled, impatient as he just kept staring at you. 

You then intently watched as he reached up to his mask, your eyes widening as you saw he was taking it off.

His head faced to the ground, his mask hissing as he dropped it to his side. He then stepped into the light, looking up as your eyes found familiarity in his face.

"...Ekko?" You breathed out, shocked as you stepped forward once. You then stopped as he looked at you with a blank stare. "Where the hell have you been?" He asked.

"What? Where am I? What the hell is all this?" You asked, panicking as you looked around. You didn't like not knowing stuff, feeling paranoid of what was to come. 

"What do you know about this?" He asked, opening a case to a blue stone. "Nothing! Powder had it, I don't know why but- shit, oh my god." You said, pacing back and forth as you tried to calm down.

"Where have you been? Where have you and Vi been? And why the hell were you with Jinx and-" Everything felt like it was spinning, Ekko's questions coming in fast and you couldn't keep up.

You felt tears pooling in your eyes, your hands meeting your head as you tried to get the feeling of nausea to pass. 

You wanted to know where you were, what happened while you were gone and what the hell happened to Powder.

"Ekko! Jus-Just shut the hell up!" You cut him off, yelling as he paused and looked at you worried. 

You looked tired, your entire body shaking as you tried to make sense of what was happening. Everything was so fast and you couldn't keep up.

"What the hell is going on?! What happened?! Me and Vi, w-we were thrown in Still- Prison and-" Ekko's eyes widened at your confession, Prison? What the hell did you mean Prison?

"Prison?! What the hell do you mean by Prison, Y/n?" He asked, you looking at him. "Yeah, we were thrown in Stillwater. No trial, nothing for seven fucking years!" You yelled, closing your eyes as you backed up into a pole.

You breathed heavily as you tried to ground yourself. 

"What happened while we were gone?! Powder- or Jinx, or whoever the fuck! What happened to her?! What happened to my best friend…" you trailed off, beginning to sob as everything sunk in.

Through the years you never actually had time to sit and think so it was all coming in like waves.

Vander had died, Benzo died, Claggor and Mylo died. You and I were thrown in jail without question. 

When you got out Powder was someone else, Silco flooded the lanes and took your guys' home. And Ekko was fucking yelling at you.

You hated being yelled at, it was something your birth parents did before leaving you to rot and it stuck with you.

Ekko looked at you sadly, his eyes filled with sympathy and guilt as he remembered you hated being yelled at. He slowly steps toward you, grabbing your hand and softly pulling you close to him.

"It's okay, everything's fine, I'm here…" he quietly stated, you holding onto him for dear life as your breathing calmed down.

"What happened while we were gone…?" You quietly asked, looking up at Ekko. He sighed, shaking his head. "A lot, Y/n. A lot." He stated.

You examined his face, lifting your palm to his right cheek as you sniffled. "Aw, Little man isn't little anymore." You laughed softly, Ekko rolling his eyes at you amusedly.

You slowly pulled back into the hig, your ear rested against his chest where his heart was. 

You found Ekko, and for now you would live in the moment. At least for a bit, because at least he was okay.

VI

You had been taken in by Benzo when young

And met Vi a couple days after

You two were stuck together by the hip

You were close in age and liked being together

You were the calm one while she was the harsh one

Still, match made in heaven

She liked being with you because you were calming

You liked being with her because she was her

And everything was great

Until the apartment heist

Everything went wrong after that

Benzo died

And so did Vander, Mylo and Claggor

What didn't help was Vi had went missing and Powder became Jinx

She never messed with you, visiting you when she could 

But she didn't like being reminded of Powder

She clung to you still because you were all she had left, and you were like her other big sister growing up

You came to terms Vi was dead, you had to survive though

So Babbette offered you a job, at the Brothel

Wasn't your ideal job but you took it

Everything was a bit peaceful in your life for a while

Until the past came knocking

You cleaned up your room in the brothel, your last client had come in and left after about 30 minutes and you were done for the day.

You were tired as hell and just wanted to get to Jericho's, eat and come back and sleep until forever. You had changed into something a bit more comfortable, grabbing your keys and about to head out until you heard the door open.

It then clicked closed just as you reached for your keys. You sighed, talking over your shoulder. "Wrong room. I'm done for the day, sorry." You said, walking forward as your hand grasped your keychain.

"Aw, too bad. You sure you don't have time for me, sweetheart?" That voice…you heard it before. You froze, you felt like you couldn't move at all. You recognized it but you didn't want to accept it.

Over the years your mind played tricks on you, a glimpse in your peripheral had you thinking Vi was around the corner. A whisper in your ear made you flinch thinking it was her only to come back to earth a second later.

You shook your head, not looking behind you. "Enough with the games, brain. She's not here…" you mumbled to yourself, resuming what you had been doing.

"But it's not a game. It's me, Y/n." She said again, this time you felt like crying as you realized she didn't go away. She would've left by now if it was a game.

You slowly turned around, your eyes finding the woman now grown up standing in front of you. She stared back at you with a small smile, her eyes looked you up and down.

"...Vi?" You whispered, afraid to talk as if she would disappear. She nodded her head, stepping closer to you. You gave a small sniffle, as she got closer you lunged at her.

You knocked her back a fre steps before she stabled herself. She gave a small chuckle mixed with a sniffle. She hugged you back, missing your touch over the years.

"You're okay.. How in hell are you alive?" You asked, your head not leaving her chest. "Believe me, I don't even know." She mumbled, resting her chin on top of your head as she closed her eyes.

She felt a little peace in that moment, holding you. Maybe the seven years of hoping and praying paid off, because you were actually here.

Alive. And with her now. 

And god, she was never letting you go, ever again.

VIKTOR

Your dad was Singed, and you met him when his boat flowed through the cavern

That's when you first saw him, you sat next to Rio as it knocked against your foot

He then stepped into your vision

He was hesitant until your dad beckoned him towards you guys as he held his toy boat in his hand

You then noticed his cane, tilting your head at it but shaking it off

Wasn't anything new, and was best not to ask

He was a loner, not being able to play with the other kids

You didn't like playing with them, thought they were idiots who were even ruder than their parents

You preferred staying with your dad and helping Rio

And eventually you three became loners together

You and Viktor grew up close together

You were stuck to the other like glue

You also both helped your dad with his gadgetry and projects

Everything was good, until Rio god worse

You begged your dad to let her go, but he always said the same thing

"The mutation must survive"

But Viktor didn't like it

And he left

You never saw him again for a long time

Viktor sat in his lab, Jayce gone for the day for whatever he did. He was messing with Hex tech, trying to improve it as he heard the lab door open.

"Sorry, Jayce is not here. And I am quite busy." He called over his shoulder, not looking back as he went back to his gadget.

He heard a sigh from behind him. 'Must be Sky.' He thought, not paying anymore mind until a voice broke the silence.

"Aw, not even enough time for little 'ol me?" He paused, it couldn't be. He hadn't seen you for years. And in Piltover? His lab nonetheless?

He turned around, shocked as he saw your smirking face standing at the middle counter of the lab. 

"Y/n!" He exclaimed, smiling as he stood up and grabbed his cane. You laughed, walking towards him and meeting him halfway. You wrapped your arms around his neck.

"I haven't seen you in years." He smiled, you pulling away as you laughed. "Yeah, about time, huh?" He nodded his head. "Yes, how did you know I was here?" He asked.

"I got in contact with your lab partner, Jayce. He was excited to help." You explained, nudging his cheek as he shook his head. "Remind me to thank him, for once." He joked.

"Wow, Piltover really has a hold on you. You have humour now?" You teased, the man rolling his eyes at you amusedly as he pulled away.

"Come, I should show you my creation." He walked over to his desk, you following him

You always wondered what his life was in Piltover, now you could be a part of it.

#vi arcane x reader #arcane x you #ekko arcane x reader #arcane ekko x you #arcane ekko #arcane ekko x reader #arcane viktor x reader #arcane vi x reader #arcane violet #arcane viktor #viktor x reader #ekko x reader #vi x reader #arcane viktor x you #viktor arcane x reader #viktor arcane x you #arcane reader #arcane reader insert

[somedaylazysomeday]

Good Intentions Part Seventeen

A surprise visit in the middle of the night isn't what you had assumed it would be...

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 5,900

Warnings: ongoing references to sex as a form of payment, implied violence, non-consensual drug use, paranoia, cuddling, threats

That's right - no sexual contact in this chapter! Sorry if that's not what you're looking for here. But enjoy the knowledge that this is the first time I've ever had to write a warning about a lack of sex in a fic!

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---

It was never a good sign when you were awoken in the dark hours of the morning by a frantic tapping on your bedroom door. 

Granted, the situation wasn’t as rare as you would have preferred. You ran an outreach, after all. The Haven’s patients struggled, relapsed, went through withdrawal, and even needed medical attention on occasion. Everyone had strict orders to tell you when things like that happened, no matter what time of day it was or what else you were doing. 

Everything and everyone had seemed stable when you went to bed, though, so it took you a moment of blearily blinking at the door before you rolled out of bed and went to answer it. When you peered out into the hallway, you were expecting to see Arunn. Perhaps Steel or Yi, both of whom had been on night watch. 

Nothing had prepared you to see Sevika. 

“What-?” It was all you had time to croak out before she had shoved the door open with a strong arm, sending you stumbling backward until you finally lost your balance. You fell directly onto your ass, staring up with all the grace of a newborn bird as Sevika hustled over to your bed. 

It wasn’t until she carefully spread Silco’s limp body across it that you even registered she had been carrying him over one broad shoulder. 

“Silco?” you demanded, voice harsh and shaking as you struggled to your feet and rushed across the room. “Silco?!”

Silco didn’t respond to you. He didn’t even move. His stillness let you focus on him with the intensity you were feeling. He looked paler than usual, his scars standing out in stark contrast against his hollow cheek and the blankly staring darkness of his eye. His clothing was rumpled and spattered with dark stains that you knew would be blood in full light. The same shadow marked his neck and chin, but turned from a fine spray to a dense coating on his hands. 

You unbuttoned his shirt, worried about the way that blood trailed from his neck downward into the darkness of his clothing. If he was wounded, you were just wasting time that could be used getting a doctor to the Haven…

“He’s alive,” Sevika assured you, looking grim. “But he’ll need some time to recover. The biggest problem is that they drugged him.”

“They?” you asked. “Who is ‘they’?”

“That’s none of your business.” 

The harshness of Sevika’s answer did nothing to reassure you. In fact, your worry and fear flipped to anger in a moment. You gestured sharply at the unconscious chem baron sprawled in your bed. “Really? Because this seems like you’re making it my business!”

Sevika’s lip curled and you braced yourself - either for some harsh words or a physical blow, you weren’t sure which - but you both pulled up short at the small, pained sound that came from the direction of your bed. 

“Sev-” His voice faded out, the tension slowly easing from his body only to return in full force a moment later. “You must find him. You must- Do not allow him to-”

“I know, boss,” Sevika told him, and Silco’s body went lax with the reassurance. It seemed to be the truth. Silco’s mutterings were just gibberish to you, but Sevika looked resolute as she turned to you. “I have to go take care of that. I need to know that you’ll keep an eye on him.” 

“What was he drugged with?” you asked - not avoiding the question, but side-stepping it for the moment. “Shimmer?” 

Sevika scoffed at you. “Do you really think Silco wouldn’t know how to avoid being dosed with Shimmer? Or that it would take him out this badly? No, princess, it’s not Shimmer. Now, are you gonna take care of him or not?” 

“Why here?” you asked nervously. “Is he safe? I can’t do much against whoever is trying to hurt him-”

“Most of them are dead,” she told you, the short explanation cutting through your worries in an instant. “He wouldn’t go back to the Drop. Said it was safest here. I agree - most people wouldn’t think to look for him here, but there’s plenty of his guards around if they do.” 

You nodded. “What do I do about the drugging? Does he need something to help it?” 

“Only time.” Sevika’s metal hand settled heavily on your shoulder. “Just keep him in here, away from people and away from the windows. The best thing for him is if no one knows he’s here.” 

It seemed uncharitable to point out that would be the best thing for you, too, but Sevika didn’t give you time to consider saying it. With a short nod, she left your room. When you hurried to the window, you could see her leaving the Haven only moments later, giving a list of instructions to Raka. 

When Raka had returned to the Haven, you shut the curtains tightly and went back to the bed. Silco still wasn’t conscious, but he looked uneasy rather than completely relaxed. His natural eye moved behind its lid and his long limbs were stirring. You winced at the blood smearing across your tangled sheets. If he truly wasn’t in danger, there was nothing for it but to get to work. 

You soothed Silco with gentle words and gentler touches, smoothing hair back from his face and loosening his tie. When he was lying still once more, you unbuttoned his vest and removed his tie completely. 

Stripping the bloodstained fabric away helped minimize the continued damage to your sheets, but you couldn’t help a wince at the fast-forming bruises on his pale skin. A particularly nasty one spreading across his sternum looked like it might end up as a sprain, if not broken bones. 

You risked leaving the room for a few moments, retrieving a new set of sheets, a loose pair of pajama pants, and a few old towels before you darted back to your room. 

No one had seem you, of course. No one would be awake in the Haven for hours yet, with the exception of the staff members watching over the Haven’s patients. You took a moment to be grateful that the treatment floors of the Haven were all on the upper levels of the building. 

Removing the rest of Silco’s clothes was a surprisingly simple task. Apparently, you had absorbed more than you thought from watching him undress during all of your meetings. When his clothing, shoes, and accessories were in a neat but bloodstained pile next to the door of your room, you wet a towel with warm water and set to wiping the blood from Silco’s skin. 

That was the most difficult part of your task by far. The blood on Silco’s hands, arms, neck, and face had been there long enough to grow tacky but not long enough to begin flaking off. He woke several times as you worked to clean him up, but you were able to calm him back to sleep easily enough. 

He was dressed in comfortable pajama pants and quietly resting as you stripped the sheets from the bed. There was no way for you to change the fitted sheet beneath Silco, not without calling someone who could lift his weight. Since that was a rather incendiary idea, you contented yourself with propping pillows behind Silco’s head and using an old towel to cover his bare torso. You hated the idea of him being cold or uncomfortable. 

It was ludicrous, an assessment Silco would probably share if he were awake… but he wasn’t. He was lying injured and drugged in your bed, and you found yourself close to tears for some reason you couldn’t quite identify. 

Maybe it was because he was so still. Silco wasn’t a large man. His height paired with the scars and menacing personality made him seem so much bigger, but he was slender and graceful - far more like a thief’s dagger than a soldier’s club. 

But laying flat on his back with a towel draped over his chest, Silco looked more delicate than ever. His scars were still fearsome and that eye glowed like an ember in the dimness of your room, but without the personality to back it up, there was no denying that he had lost his imposing nature. 

Temporarily. 

You hoped.

A knock at the door made you jump and glance over. When you saw it begin to open, you hurled yourself against it with every ounce of energy you could muster. Who would come in without knocking? Was it someone trying to hurt Silco? Had whoever attacked him managed to track him down here? Where were the guards?

“Is everything okay?” Arunn called through the door. You relaxed slightly at his familiar voice. “Fletcher said you haven’t come out of your room today.” 

Your eyes jerked toward the covered window. Sure enough, you could see sickly sunlight seeping around the corners of your curtains. “It’s fine, Arunn. Everything is okay.” 

There was a pause that managed to sound skeptical. “Are you sure about that?” 

With as much hoarseness as you could pack into your voice, you told him, “I don’t feel well today. I’m trying to rest and work on paperwork when I’m not sleeping. I’m probably going to be in here all day. Can you manage things without me?” 

“Yeah, we’ll be okay.” Arunn seemed concerned and you felt bad about that, but at least he believed you. “I’ll bring you something to eat later.” 

“Thank you. Please just leave it outside the door and I’ll bring it in myself.” 

“And you’re sure you can get it?” 

You nodded, knowing he couldn’t see it, and faked a cough. “Yes, I can. Thank you again.”

“No problem, boss.” Arunn sighed. “Rest up today - we need you back as soon as you’re feeling better.” 

“I will,” you promised weakly.

When Arunn’s footsteps faded, you locked the door before you pushed away from it. There were good odds that no one would disturb you in your room, but it wouldn’t hurt to be certain. 

If this were any other business, you would probably need to worry that someone would come to check up on you. However, one of the most difficult parts of treating Shimmer withdrawal was that it often left the ex-user immunocompromised for a few weeks. With a constantly rotating roster of people who couldn’t be exposed to sickness, you could nearly guarantee that your “rest” wouldn’t be interrupted. 

As you approached the bed, you noticed that Silco’s natural eye was open slightly. You would have assumed it was a trick of the light, or a slackening of his facial muscles, but his mouth was also moving. 

“Silco?” you asked. The movements of his lips didn’t falter or change, and you suspected that he couldn’t hear you. You spoke anyway, just in case he could: “Silco, if you can hear me, you’re safe. You’re at the Haven with me. No one knows you’re here except me and the guards. You’re safe.”

The inaudible murmuring slowed to a near halt, but Silco’s mismatched eyes stayed fixed on you. You risked reaching out to smooth a strand of hair back from his forehead. “The only reason Sevika isn’t here is because she went to hunt someone down.” 

Silco’s face tightened, and he struggled to sit up. It was a mark of how bad he was feeling that you could keep him lying flat with only a hand braced against his shoulder. 

“You need to rest,” you informed him. “Everything is fine, you’re safe.” 

You had hoped repeating that he was safe would soothe him, but Silco seemed unconvinced. “Threat- Need- go…”

Chills danced up your spine and teased at the back of your neck. You fought a shudder, trying to look serene instead of concerned as you slowly shook your head. “No, Silco. You’re safest here. Sevika went to go take care of the threat. No one is going to hurt you as long as you’re here-”

Silco caught at the front of your sleep shirt, pulling you down toward him as he hissed urgently, “Not- hurt me. Hurt you.”

That made your stomach tighten with foreboding. Before you started following the demands of a drugged man, you needed to check some things. “Silco, did you tell them about me?”

“No,” he denied, hands shaking as they released your shirt. 

You nodded. “Good. Did you tell them about the Haven?” 

“Never,” he spat. 

“Even better.” Your look of serenity was finally legitimate as you said, “It seems like we don’t need to worry. Between Sevika and the guards we have at the Haven, the people chasing you won’t be able to find us here.” 

“Not people,” Silco said, shaking his head. At least, you assumed that had been his intention. The muscles of his neck didn’t seem to work properly at the moment, and his head rolled languidly across the pillow. “Person.” 

“You’re this worried about one person?” you asked, bewildered. “Wait, a single person did all of this to you?” 

“No,” Silco said again, baring his teeth. “More. I… all- Killed them all.”

“Except one,” you concluded. 

“Coward.” Silco may have been drugged and injured, dressed in borrowed clothes with a towel as a blanket, but the one-word insult made his disdain clear. “Hid while-”

He cut off mid-sentence, seeming transfixed by something behind you. You stood from the edge of the bed, where you had sat to hear Silco better, and whipped around. Your hands came up, ready to defend Silco from who or whatever had snuck into the room. 

There was nothing behind you. 

When you turned back to the bed, Silco had fallen asleep once more. 

Since you were stuck in your room for the foreseeable future, you started working on the paperwork you had mentioned to Arunn. A lot of it consisted of reports for various parties who had a stake in the Haven and the way it was run. Once that was done, you had payroll to do, accounts to track, and appointments to make for the patients. While you had a doctor on staff, you liked to bring in a psychologist every month to speak with anyone who wanted to talk. 

As you set aside the last piece of paperwork, several hours had passed without a sound or movement from Silco. You approached the side of the bed, nervously noting that his chest was either rising and falling so evenly that you couldn’t see it… or it wasn’t moving at all.

You checked his pulse. It beat strong and steady against your fingertips and you felt ridiculous for thinking the worst. But before you could pull your hand away, Silco nuzzled against it, brushing your touch over the angles of his cheekbones. It was lucky his eyes didn’t open, because you couldn’t help the softness of your smile. 

As if that had been the final straw toward convincing you, you decided to get back into bed as well. After all, if you were going to take today off as a rest day, you should actually look rested. Sevika and Silco had interrupted your sleep and, despite the worthiness of the cause, you were starting to feel tired as the adrenaline finally ebbed. 

And since the sheets were stained with blood from Silco’s clothes, you pulled an extra blanket from your closet, covering yourself with it. If part of it covered Silco as well, you weren’t responsible for that. 

Your sleep was shockingly sound considering the strangeness of the situation. Silco was in your bedroom, Sevika was planning to come back as soon as she killed whoever Silco hadn’t managed to, and you were keeping all of it from everyone else who called the Haven a home. 

The counter arguments were that Silco was warm and his steady breathing provided the perfect metronome to time your descent into slumber. Your blanket was soft and the blood on the mattress cover hadn’t quite reached your side of the bed yet. The shades were still drawn, turning your room into a shadowed cavern, and the noises from the rest of the Haven were muted by the earliness of the hour and the knowledge that you weren’t feeling well. 

The conscientiousness made you smile, but it also made you sleep easier.

You didn’t wake until a pair of hands clasped roughly around your shoulders. Jolted unpleasantly out of your sleep, you could only stare around the room to find the cause.

Silco was apparently in the grips of a nightmare. His natural eye was half-open, the lids parted but slack. His lips were parted as well, as if he could not get enough air except through gasping. Most directly important to you, his hands were locked on your arms, keeping you from trying to touch him to bring him out of the nightmare. 

“Silco-” you tried, shimmying your shoulders as much as you could in his hold. “Silco, it’s fine. You’re safe. You’re at the Haven. No one knows-”

“Quiet,” he hissed, shaking you roughly. 

You fell silent. 

Silco’s eyes were wider then, the lids almost fully open over his natural eye as he stared around the room. He was lying on his side, facing you, so his view was limited to what he could see past you. 

Even with the frantic visual search of your room, Silco apparently couldn’t stay awake. His face slackened slightly, grip loosening before his hands and his expression tightened again… only to fall slowly slack. This cycle repeated a few more times as you watched, fascinated by Silco’s struggle against whatever had been used to drug him. 

At last, he slumped back against the mattress, hands falling away from you. You relaxed, too, though you kept your gaze trained on his face. Whatever he had been dosed with, it was bad. For Silco to be knocked off-balance so thoroughly… Well, you were grateful Sevika had been there to get him out. If Silco had been in this state surrounded by enemies, you were certain he wouldn’t have stayed alive for long. 

You had been thinking through the situation, wondering about how long Sevika would be gone and how you would smuggle Silco out of the Haven without anyone seeing him. You had intended to stay awake, to keep watch over Silco and soothe him when he got restless again, but you must have fallen asleep. Or so you assumed, because Silco was on top of you in the span of a blink. 

The jerk you gave was reflexive and worthless. Silco had planted himself on top of you, a hand pressed over your lips. “Stay quiet.” 

You nodded in response to his order. His position on top of you trapped your hands by your sides, but you tried tapping his hip to signal that he didn’t need to gag you. He didn’t even seem to notice your touch.

“Someone is outside,” Silco breathed. His eyes were wide, no signs of the involuntary laxness that had marked them since he arrived, but the pupil of his natural eye was blown wide. “They’ve found me.” 

You listened intently, focusing your attention so strongly that you started to hear the faint whine of a totally silent room. The words you had been repeating all morning seemed trite, so you opted for something different: “You’ve been hearing things all morning…”

Your explanation - thoroughly muffled by Silco’s palm - cut off abruptly as you heard a scraping shuffle from the hallway outside your door. You froze. 

Silco nodded, eyes focused on your face. “We need to be ready. If they know I’m in here-”

There was no sign he had heard your first explanation, but you tried to speak again, to tell him that he needed to let you up if you were going to be ready. You hadn’t said more than a handful of words when the shuffle came closer and Silco sprang into action. 

In a single move, he had rolled you to the other side of the bed. You were further from the door then, with him planted firmly between you and any possible intruders. 

Silco had been lying in bed all morning, wracked with illness and poison, but he looked utterly capable as he crouched facing the door. He was just in front of the bed and you had to take a second look to verify that there was a knife in his hand. You weren’t sure where he had gotten in from, but you guessed it was one of his. He was clearly used to handling the weapon, holding it like it was an extension of his arm. 

You tried to stand up, to move past and protect him, but a firm shove from Silco’s shoulder sent you tumbling back onto the surface of your bed. It didn’t hurt, obviously, but you were left with the options of sitting back and letting a drugged and injured Silco handle whoever was at the door or doing something stupid…

“Who is it?” you called loudly. 

Silco’s body didn’t move, staying poised between the bed and the door with the knife held ready in his hand. But his head swiveled, glancing back at you over his own shoulder with a hiss through bared teeth. 

To your unending relief, Arunn’s voice came through the door. “Sorry, just leaving some food and water out here. I also brought a hot drink. It might make you feel better. The steam, you know. Sorry to wake you up. Try to eat and drink when you can, but I’m glad you’re getting some rest. You work too hard… Anyway, let me know if you need anything.”

And then you heard the unmistakable sounds of Arunn walking back down the hallway. You relaxed so much that you flopped to your back and sank into the bed. All that tension returned in an instant when you felt someone looming over you. 

When you cracked your eyes open, you found Silco glaring down at you. “You are a stupid, reckless little fool. You had no way of knowing who was outside.” 

“And neither did you,” you pointed out. Silco didn’t seem to appreciate your reasoning. “I could probably defend us better than you could right now.” 

“Ridiculous,” he sniffed. A moment later, his face turned an interesting shade of gray and his green eye rolled upward. He swayed - hard - but caught his balance. “You are not capable-”

“You need to lay back down,” you interrupted. He was going to refuse, you could see it, but you grabbed his arm and gave a light tug. He crumpled instantly to the mattress, looking startled. Then he went grayish again and his face slackened once more. 

Your first reaction was, understandably, panic. But when you collected yourself enough to check things out, you felt far more confident that Silco was going to be okay. His breathing was easy and regular, his heart beating steadily. His muscles were relaxed and his fingers were warm. Even as you watched, his face slowly started gaining color again. 

Calling a doctor was your first instinct, but that would inarguably put Silco in danger, and you weren’t willing to do that. You had to trust that Sevika knew what she was talking about when she said he would recover from the drugging. So you chalked the reaction up to overexertion and did your best to move on from it. 

Of course, you also weren’t willing to be woken up that unpleasantly a second time. Instead, you retrieved the tray Arunn had left and set the glass of water by the bed for Silco. Then you retreated to the small makeshift desk you had set up in your room. After you ate the food Arunn had brought, you began filtering through paperwork. 

Every few minutes, you studied Silco, but he continued to rest easy, so you left him alone. If he was anywhere near as busy as you suspected he was, he probably could use the chance to sleep. He certainly seemed to need it. 

You didn’t really know how much time had passed when Silco began to get restless. He tossed one way, then the other. He twitched and frowned, scowling without waking up. And then he began to talk.

They weren’t full sentences, even when you got close enough to hear them. There were bits and pieces of muttered warnings sprinkled with threats. It made you smile despite yourself. Even in drugged sleep during a weak moment, Silco was still trying to be in command of the situation. 

“Leave… You will walk away. No. No. …an error… She will not… If you even attempt…”

The mention of a nameless ‘she’ made your heart skip a beat. But you were too pragmatic to misinterpret that fierce, protective tone. That, more than anything else, helped you fill in the gaps of what had happened: someone had threatened Jinx. One of the other chem barons, most likely. That was why he had come here and not to The Last Drop. Jinx presumably lived at the Drop while Silco didn’t mind if anyone at the Haven was in danger from him being here. 

The tightening in your stomach at that must be irritation that he had callously disregarded the safety of your patients. That was the only explanation. The only one that made sense, anyway. 

Had Silco been ousted as the head chem baron? Were you hiding the recently deposed leader of Zaun in the Haven? What would they try to do to him? Silco kept a tight lid on the violence in the Undercity - public violence, that was - but if he wasn’t in charge, anarchy could reign. It wasn’t terribly long ago in the Undercity’s history that public beatings and executions had taken place…

But if Silco was really being overthrown, the coup hadn’t been entirely successful. You could vividly recall the way Sevika had said most of the people who had attacked Silco were dead. If you had interpreted their little exchange correctly, she was currently hunting down the last antagonistic survivor of the attack.

With any luck, she would be finished before Silco recovered from his drugging. 

You returned to your paperwork, working steadily through the pile until you had a neat stack of completed forms, applications, and grant requests sitting on the corner of your desk. You flexed your fingers around the pen, trying to ease the cramping in your overworked muscles. As you gave it a final shake, your eyes drifted over to the bed.

Silco was watching you. 

The sight of him awake and looking back at you made you startle, and the pen clattered loudly onto the desk. 

“Are you awake?” you asked softly. 

He didn’t respond immediately, but when he did, it was with a wry expression. “Do I make a habit of sleeping with both eyes open?” 

That certainly sounded more cognizant than anything else he had said since he’d arrived. “I don’t know, I don’t spend a lot of time around you when you’re sleeping. Do you?” 

“I do not,” he informed you. He gave a sharp wince as he rolled onto his back. 

“There is a glass of water on the bedside table for you,” you told him. “How much do you remember?” 

“More than I care to.” Silco stared up at the ceiling, a slight frown crossing his face. “But nothing since the attack itself. How did I come to be here?” 

“Sevika brought you.” The explanation seemed insufficient, so you pressed on. “Apparently, you told her to bring you here. Neither of you ever said if there was a reason for that.” 

“Where is Sevika now?” 

You frowned. “I’m not really sure. She brought you here and then left to go finish the last one off.” 

Silco’s head turned slowly toward you. “The last one.” 

“Whoever it was who attacked you,” you said with a shrug. “I never really caught who that was.” 

“Ah.” He left it at that, letting you both simmer in the silence for long enough that you thought of a dozen things to say and discarded them all. He slowly sat up, movements ginger, then took a deep draw from the glass of water on the bedside table. “Do you have a shower I can use? I feel the need to rinse the blood off.” 

You opened your mouth to tell him you had already taken care of it, but decided it seemed too intimate. More intimate, somehow, than having cleaned the blood from him in the first place. “Through there.” 

As Silco made his way shakily to the shower, you vowed that you would never again feel guilty for having a private bathroom attached to your bedroom. It was worth every bit of second-guessing you had done while choosing your room.

There was a strange sort of serenity in the moment, you decided eventually. The sound of water raining down from the showerhead was muted by the door and the Haven was quiet. The shades were drawn and the light from your desk lamp spilled gold over the room. With Silco out of the way, you finished making the bed with fresh sheets. It was homey and warm, private and peaceful. 

Certainly not what you would have expected from having an injured drug lord in your rehabilitation clinic. 

A short, sharp knock on the door made you jump. You moved toward it quietly. “Who is it?” 

“Raka.”

You pulled the door open slightly, leaving only a small gap between the door itself and the frame. If this was some sort of trap, you could hopefully close it before anyone could force their way inside. 

But Raka was alone, holding a scrap of paper. “Is he awake?” 

“Yes.” 

Raka nodded. “Sevika sent this.” 

He handed the note to you before disappearing back down the hall. The abruptness left you staring after him, but you closed the door when you heard the water shut off in the bathroom. 

When you smoothed out the wrinkled paper under the light of your lamp, a few terse words met you: Send him out when it’s dark. - S

You glanced at a clock, surprised to find that it was far later than you had expected. It would be dark in half an hour, maybe a little less. 

Silco stepped out of the bathroom with no warning. You averted your eyes when you realized that he was naked. “Where are my clothes?” 

“By the door,” you told him. “They’re still very bloody.” 

“Good.” 

You decided not to look too deeply into that. Silco shook them out, presumably in an attempt to dislodge any wrinkles, but you winced as the blood crackled and fell in flakes to your floor. 

He dressed in a series of efficient motions. He looked very comfortable when he was finished, though you couldn’t imagine feeling at ease in clothes that were crusted with blood and other fluids. 

You cleared your throat. “Sevika is outside. When it gets dark, I’ll escort you out.” 

“How long?” he asked, checking his cuffs.

“About fifteen minutes now.” 

Silco nodded. He stepped toward your freshly made bed, then seemed to think better about sitting down in his bloody clothes. You appreciated his restraint, but you appreciated it a bit less when he began pacing around your bedroom. 

Every item not hidden away was paid special scrutiny. Silco examined every picture on your wall, every knick knack, the books on your bedside table, the pile of clean laundry you had yet to put away. It made you nervous, enough so that you were counting the minutes until you could safely urge Silco out of your private space.

“It’s time,” you announced, peeking through the shades to double-check. The haze of twilight hung heavy over the Undercity, the neon signs only just beginning to be lit. The streets had cleared of anyone who had been doing business in the light hours of the day, but the nighttime bustle hadn’t truly begun yet. 

You slid your feet into a pair of shoes, gesturing toward Silco. “Follow me.” 

The hallway was empty, and you led Silco to a little-used staircase without any risk of being seen. The stairs took longer to navigate than you had anticipated with Silco’s injuries. 

“You may count this as our next meeting,” Silco told you abruptly, his voice clearly strained as he lowered himself down another step. One hand gripped the railing so hard his knuckles were white while the other clutched protectively at his injured ribs. 

You shook your head, arms outstretched to catch him if he stumbled. “I appreciate that, but I can’t count the meeting if we don’t do anything more than sleep and talk. Not without feeling like you’ve been cheated.” 

Silco smirked, and there was only a little pain in it. “I don’t mind having Sevika wait, but I doubt I have the energy for anything more at the moment.” 

“Not what I meant.” You did your best not to smile at his teasing. It wouldn’t do to encourage him. 

Silco didn’t have time to respond before you reached the bottom of the staircase. He leaned against the wall and let out a trembling breath. “Finally.” 

“Is Sevika bringing a vehicle of some kind?” you asked. “I don’t know if you can walk back to The Last Drop. Not in this condition.” 

“I must. To do anything else would be to show weakness. Weakness is death in Zaun.” Silco’s jaw tautened and he pushed away from the wall. There was a moment in which he swayed and you reached out, but he caught himself. He stood straight, let out a single noise of pain, and strode confidently forward. 

It wasn’t his usual strut, but it was close. Certainly close enough to fool those who didn’t see him on a regular basis. 

“Are you sure you don’t need anything else?” you asked, pushing out of the door and following him onto the near-deserted street. 

Silco glanced back as if surprised to find you behind him. “You shouldn’t be out here. You do not want to be seen with me.” 

You gave him a stubborn look. “I’m not going anywhere until we see Sevika.” 

“Very well,” he agreed, inclining his head graciously. “This way.” 

Carefully, Silco worked his way toward the front of the Haven, adjusting course along the way to stay as deep in the shadows as possible. 

“There you are, boss.” 

Sevika’s low greeting made you jump. Silco’s reaction was less obvious, but he must have reacted somehow, and he hissed as his hand lifted back to his ribs.

“Will you be able to get him back to The Last Drop safely?” you asked Sevika. 

She scoffed at you, but you kept your gaze steady. Eventually, she nodded. “I’ve got some trustworthy people keeping a lookout on the way. We’ll get him there in one piece. Preferably without any more bruises than he’s already got.” 

“Thank you.”

You started to turn away, but Silco caught at your shoulder. “Thank you, pet. I won’t forget this.” 

You just smiled and returned to the Haven.

---

Author's Note - Thanks for reading and I hope you weren't too disappointed in the lack of spice in this part!

I don't offer a taglist on this account, but you can find other works on my masterlist!

#arcane netflix #arcane 2021 #arcane silco #arcane reader insert #silco #silco x reader #silco x reader fic #silco x you #reader insert #reader insert fic #reader insert fanfiction

[beesincognito]

Perfect Strangers- part fifteen: The Theater

Viktor x Fem!reader (slight NSFW)

part fourteen part sixteen     (start here!)

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

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

*slightly implied NSFW- very brief *

Word count: 5,089

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

     “The nice house?”

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

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

     “Eventually.”

******

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

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

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

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

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

     “You can say that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     “No it’s just he-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

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

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

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

     His silence was your answer.

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

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

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

     “I didn’t-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

#viktor #arcane #viktor x reader #reader x viktor #viktor arcane #viktor/reader #viktor my beloved #arcane reader insert #viktor arcane x reader #reader x viktor arcane

[caramelmillktea]

𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑

Pairing(s) : tattoo!artist!Vi x florist!fem!reader

proofread : Yes/no/semi

wordcount fic : 1.279 words

warnings : little bit of playful bantering, petnames

author's note : chapter three of the inked flower series. Check out my masterlist for all the parts :).

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The doorbell chimes softly as the door closes, “Come back soon!” You smiled as you saw your last customer leave for the day. You cleaned up the ribbons and scissors you used to wrap the tulips with before wandering through your small flower shop. It has been two years since you took over this flower shop and you couldn’t be any more content with your decision. While all your old college friends strived to have jobs that would provide much fortune, you strived to have something that money can’t buy.

Serenity

You always wanted a peaceful life after you graduated college, so taking over your parents shop while they’re enjoying their elder years to the fullest was the perfect solution.

“Now I know you’re here somewhere” You muttered not to anyone in particular. You stopped in your tracks as you heard a soft rustling. You walked towards the direction where the sound came from. “Maybe you’re…. Here!” You quickly looked behind a potted plant but saw nothing, you scratched your head. ‘Where could she be?’ you thought. Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft mewling coming from behind the counter.  

“There you are! I was looking for you everywhere.” You smiled as you lifted your cat into your arms causing it to jump out of your arms. You pouted as you saw your cat sprinting away from you. You followed Wiskers and saw her stop at the trash bin. “Ugh… almost forgot…” You mumbled.

You grabbed the heavy trash bag out of the trash bin and opened the door at the back that leads to a little alleyway between your flowershop and the tattoo parlor. You huffed and opened the door to see a blue-haired girl sitting on the stairs leading to the porch of the back door of the tattoo parlor. She was working on a little contraption, materials and screwdrivers scattered around her.

“Hey Y/n, long time no see.” the girl greeted, not looking up at you.

“Hello Jinx” You managed to say while you tried lifting the heavy trash bag over the trash bin but you failed, you put the trash bag down onto the pavement.

“Finally!” You stopped and looked at Jinx, confusion written all over your face. She noticed your confusion. “You’re the only person that calls me ‘Jinx’ Everybody still calls me by that stupid name.”   “You mean Powder?”

Jinx cringed at the sound of her birth name rolling on your tongue “...Yeah that one, it’s so boring and plain!” She whined and used the screwdriver to stab it in her little contraption. “Jinx got a certain ring to it, don't ya think?”

“I mean… I like them both equally.” You began. You honestly didn’t care if she wanted to change her name officially, as long as she felt comfortable with her name nothing else mattered. “As long as you feel comfortable with your name, nothing else matters, right?”

Jinx nods and continues working in silence, you reach down to the trash bag.

“I like you” Jinx said out of nowhere, this caused your eyes to fly wide open.

“huh…?”

“You heard me, toots” Jinx looks up at you “You’re pretty chill" Jinx smiled "Say… When are you going to bake a batch of those delicious cookies again?”

“Are they already gone? I made those cookies this morning for you!” you cried out.

“What!? You can’t blame me for finishing them so quickly besides Mylo and Claggor also enjoys your baking.” Jinx defended and looked up at you. ”Especially Vi.”

Wait… Vi likes your baking? For real?

“Vi? She never struck me as a sweettooth. I thought Vi was asking on behalf of you, Claggor and Mylo.” Your eyebrows knitted together.

“Oh my gooodddd” Jinx groaned, throwing her head back, her hands gripping her head. “Seriously? Why else would she tell you to give her a few pasteries when you’ve baked something?”

Before you could answer her, the door behind Jinx swung open. Revealing a woman with pink hair shaved into a side-cut. She has pale blue eyes and a roman number tattoos underneath her eye. If you look closely, you can see tiny freckles scattered around her nose and cheeks. She wore black sweatpants and a black sports bra.

“There you are, Powder! I was looking for you everywhere!” Vi exclaimed worriedly. Jinx turned around so that her back was facing you. “I told you to call me Jinx, why do you have to call me by that stupid name?”

“Because, you have to get over this emo phase.” You could hear a little frustration laced in her voice, as if they had this conversation a million times.

“It’s not a phase Vi, it’s my chosen name. Plus Y/n likes it too” She turns around “Right Y/n?” Vi and Jinx were both staring at you as you stared back at them like a deer in headlights, not being used to being the center of attention. Vi probably noticed you were uncomfortable.

“Let’s go inside, I heard it’s going to get colder later in the evening.” Vi said “We’ll have this conversation later k?”

“Ugh fiiine, I’ll leave you alone with your 'cupcake'.” Jinx snickered before grabbing her materials and contraption and went inside. Vi waited for Jinx to leave before she started talking. “I’m sorry about powder-”

“It’s Jinx! not powder!” Jinx yelled.

Vi huffed “I’m sorry about powder” She tried again.

“It’s fine, don’t worry besides she is still just a teen.” You said “It’s when she explores new things about herself so please don’t be too harsh on her, ok?”

“I’ll try, but only because you suggested it.” Vi's gaze shifted to the trash bag in your hand. “You need help with that? Looks pretty heavy.” Vi pointed at the trash bag.

“No no! It’s fine really.” You said, a little too loud, waving your hands in front of you. Vi looks at you, something in her eyes changed but you can’t put your finger on it.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it then.” She says but doesn’t move a centimeter.

You looked at her “ Aren’t you gonna go inside? I mean you did say it was getting colder later on in the evening” You really didn’t want Vi to see how physically weak you are because that would be embarrassing.

“You’re worried I might catch a cold? That’s really sweet angel but really, a little chilly wind won’t hurt me, plus it’s a beautiful night don’t you think?” She leaned against the doorframe. An amused expression on her face.

You tried lifting the bag off the ground but it was too damn heavy for you. You tried lifting it again but failed, you huffed in frustration.

“Y’know, my offer still stands if you’re interested.” You could hear her smirk in her voice. “ A little help doesn’t hurt anyone.”

“That’s rich coming from you” You breath out as you try lifting the trash bag once again. After a good five minutes of struggling to lift the bag five centimeters off the ground you sighed in defeat. “... Can you help me? I think I need a little hand.”

“That’s an understatement.”  Vi chuckled and walked over to you. She lifted the trash bag with one hand and swung it in the trash container with ease. “There we go, is that all?”

“No… That’s all” You mumbled as your gaze shifted to the tattoo underneath her eye. You've never seen that tattoo before but it looked really good on her. It made her even look hotter then she already was.

“I’m flattered you like my new tattoo” She spoke up, you felt heat rise to your cheeks, embarrassed that she caught your gaze lingering on her tattoo. “Don’t be embarrassed, you can always get one yourself if you’re interested in getting one of your own. I know a great tattoo parlor close by.” Vi said, leaning against the trash container. “In fact, it is right next to that cute little flower shop you own.”

You know what she was trying to do but you wouldn’t give in so easily. Ever since you met her two years ago, she has tried to persuade you into getting a tattoo from her tattoo parlor.

You'd love to get one although your boyfriend would disagree. You really didn't want to have to argue about small things like these.

“Oh really?” You said as you played along “Guess I have to stop by when I have time, you know me. I'm a very busy woman.”

“I can tell,” Vi chuckles, “Watering your little plants and putting the trash in the trash container requires a lot of time”.

“That’s not what I meant” You glared at her slightly “I have friends and a social life, not that you would understand.”

“At least I don’t have to hang out with fake people.” Vi said nonchalantly. She pushed herself off your trash container and made her way towards her still open back door. Your eyebrows furrowed, before you could ask her what she meant by that, she spoke before you could. “Sweet dreams, cupcake” She gave you a smile and went inside, leaving you outside in the cold.

#vi x reader #vi x female reader #arcane vi imagines #vi x y/n #arcane vi x female reader #vi x fem!reader #vi x fem reader #arcane vi x reader #arcane x reader #arcane x fem reader #arcane league of lesbians #arcane league of legends #arcane x female reader #arcane reader insert #tattoo artist vi #tattoo parlor au

[writingforfun0714]

Hi everyone, I recently had a birthday so I haven’t had the time to post.

I wanna post my first Arcane multi-chapter fic.

This is an Arcane reader insert (female child reader) and is basically the youngest sister to Powder and Vi. I want this to be multi-chapter and follow the episodes of the show.

Warnings—spoilers for Arcane, Reader Insert—Female Child Reader, AU (I think), parental death, POV changes, Long? (6,170 words), follows episode 1 (from Reader POV)

*I USE ‘Y/N’ FOR READER THROUGHOUT*

Sisters of Mine

Chapter 1

3rd POV

War. Destruction. Death. That was what awaited 3 young girls. The oldest has short, shaggy pink hair and pale blue eyes. Her parents called her Vi. She can’t be older than 12. The younger girl, who is about 6 years old has the same shaggy, wild hair the older girl does, but hers is bright blue. Her name is Powder. She has dark, deep blue eyes. The older girl with pink hair is holding a baby girl. She is their baby sister, Y/N, who is only about 6 months old.

The eldest has her sister with blue hair cover her eyes and sing as they walk through the rubble on the Bridge. Their parents had told them to stay until they returned, only, they never did. The fighting ceased and when the adults never came back, Vi decided to go out to look for them. Her younger sister, Powder, wanted to come as well, which meant she also had to take Y/N. Can’t leave a baby by themselves. They need protection and care. That’s what the girls’ parents told them. They are both super protective of their baby sister.

They stop and Powder peeks through her fingers to look up at Vi, who appears stunned and shocked. Powder turns to see rubble and bodies. She gasps quietly. The only sound is Y/N’s whimpering and fire crackling.

That’s when Vi hears a loud but dull thunk of metal connecting with something. Vi turns and in the smoke, she sees a silhouette of a large, muscular man. The smoke dissipates and Vi is able to see that the large man is killing an Enforcer, hitting him hard with metal gauntlets, crushing the Enforcer’s skull. He hears Y/N’s cries and turns to see the 3 young girls standing, staring at him. He approaches them and Powder steps into Vi’s side as the eldest takes a protective step forward, keeping a firm grip on their baby sister. The man’s look is sad and Vi looks at him as if to ask for help, taking a step towards the man—to ask where their parents are. You see, Vi and Powder vaguely know this man. They know his name is Vander and that he’s a friend of their parents.

The man, Vander, glances over to the left sadly and Vi follows his gaze. That’s when her eyes spot 2 bodies. The woman…she’s covered in blood and her eyes are open. The same dark blue eyes Powder has. Vi can’t see the man, but she knows who it is. They are the bodies of their parents. Vi’s eyes water and she takes a couple of shaky breaths before collapsing to her knees, crying, holding onto Y/N. Powder wraps her small arms around the 2 of them as Vi cries. Y/N starts crying as well because they are crying. Vander approaches the girls and lets his cast iron gauntlets drop, cracking the ground upon impact. He gently picks up Powder and Y/N in one arm and Vi in the other. Y/N cries as Powder tries calming her. Vi peers over Vander’s shoulder, her arms are wrapped around his muscular neck. She glares at an Enforcer as they release a bullet casing before walking back into the smoke and dust of the failed rebellion. Vi’s grip on Vander tightens in anger slightly as he walks the girls back down to the Lanes.

Time Lapse—4yrs

About 4 years have passed since Vi, Powder and Y/N lost their parents and Vander, the owner of the Last Drop, took them in. Vander also took in 2 boys, Claggor and Mylo who also lost their parents that day on the Bridge. They are around Vi’s age.

Vi has grown into a stubborn, tough 16yr old girl dead set on punching her way through any problem. Powder is a shy, passive 10 year old girl but incredibly smart. She often hangs out with Little Man since they are close in age. Little Man, also known as Ekko, was adopted by Vander’s friend, Benzo. He owns a pawnshop just down the street from the Vander’s bar. Y/N is now a sweet, smart but scrawny 4 year old kid who loves learning from Powder and Ekko. Because of her age, Y/N is often left at the bar if Vi and the others leave and she’d usually go find Ekko. He’s Powder’s best friend, but he’s also like an older brother to Y/N. He often shows her what to pick out from the junkyards. Mylo and Claggor often ignore Y/N, since she’s so young, so she really prefers Ekko for a brother anyways. Especially since Mylo doesn’t particularly like her.

Vi, Powder, Mylo and Claggor had gotten a tip from Ekko about a place topside to check out. Someone came into Benzo’s pawn shop who looked ‘weird’ according to Ekko. He had enough money to be charged double, so Vi decided to follow the lead. Originally it was just Vi, Mylo and Claggor, but Powder wanted to tag along as well, much to Y/N’s disappointment. She loved Ekko and Vander and even ‘Uncle Benzo’, but she really missed having Powder around. Y/N can’t keep up with the others and she has nothing she’s really good at. Mylo would tease her, saying that at least Powder’s a great shot. Mylo always says Y/N often slows down the older siblings and he feels like Y/N a burden, something Powder can relate to, which is why they get along so well.

Vi told Powder she could come along, since she would know what valuable stuff to take and the 2 older sisters had to tell Y/N to stay behind. It wasn’t until the older kids left that Y/N decided to go find Ekko.

Reader’s POV

I wave sadly at Powder and Vi as they head out the door. Vander, my dad, is busy running the bar and I don’t wanna be alone. I glance at the clock. Ekko would probably be at the junkyard right about now. I slip on my worn hand-me-downs I got from Powder and hurry up the steps.

I shut the door behind me and hurry up the last short set of stairs that leads into the main bar area. The music from the jukebox is drowned out by the few people scattered about. I spot my dad behind the counter. Vi, Powder and even the boys call him Vander, though I don’t know why. Vi said he’s not our real father, but the large muscular man with shaggy graying brown hair with a matching beard and mustache is all I can picture when thinking of the word ‘dad’.

He’s busy with someone at the bar, filling the cup and talking. I won’t be gone too long. I head back down the stairs and to the left is the door that leads outside to the side alley. I push the heavy door a few times for it to open enough and I groan slightly as I push it back shut.

I look around before heading off towards the junkyards. It’s not far since the bar is almost at the center of the Lanes.

I see the hills of rusted scrap metal that’s mostly beyond repair. A few adults scavenge here as well but most pay no mind to me. I walk through the trails made through the junk and that’s when I hear a familiar voice. A groan, actually. I hurry around a piece of rusted out metal and see Ekko sifting through a pile!

“Little Man!” I exclaim. His head snaps up and a wide smile spreads across his face when he spots me.

“Y/N!” He exclaims back and braces himself as I launch myself at him, colliding with his thighs and stomach, wrapping my arms around him and squeezing tight.

We laugh as we part.

“What’re you doing here? I thought Pow-pow was gonna show you her surprise-“ Ekko tells me. My eyes widen in excitement.

“Surprise?!” I ask and he nods.

“She was so proud of it and wanted to show you-“ he explains and my face falls slightly.

“N-No, she didn’t tell me. She left with Vi and the boys,” I explain to him. Now his face changes into a look of concern.

“She did?” He asks and I nod.

“Vi said she was ready and let her go with them. They told me to stay at the bar,” I tell him, “so I decided to come find you.” Ekko smirks, chuckling slightly.

“Did Vi say where they were going?” Ekko asks and I nod.

“To that place you told them about. With that weirdo guy you were talking about,” I explain and Ekko nods, knowing which I mean. Not noticing how concerned Ekko seems, I look through the oil-stained rusty metal and find what appears to be a tool! I gasp and pick it up.

“What is it?” Ekko asks.

“Look what I found-“ I say, holding up the screwdriver.

“Hey look at that! Your first find! And a tool no less! That means it’s time for you to start tinkering,” Ekko tells me and I smile happily.

“C’mon, let’s go to my hideout-I can show you what I found too,” he tells me, patting his pockets. I nod in agreement.

“Ok,” I say and follow Ekko back to Uncle Benzo’s, holding his hand and chatting along the way.

We get back to the pawnshop and Ekko holds the door open for me, making the bell on top jingle.

“There you are Ekko—oh-Y/N-I got a donation from this morning, thought you’d like to have it-“ Uncle Benzo says, searching a drawer. I walk up to the counter and watch the large man pull out a small box. He opens it and my eyes widen when I see they’re colors! 4 whole colors! Yellow, green, purple and orange! They look used, but the tips are still pretty pointy and long. Not used for long. Ekko smiles.

“Make sure to wash up before tracking all that grease upstairs-“ he tells Ekko, who nods.

“Yep-c’mon Y/N-“ Ekko tells me. I take the box of colors.

“Thanks Uncle Benzo-“ I tell him. He chuckles.

“Sure thing kid,” he says as I follow Ekko upstairs. We wash up in the small bathroom and I follow Ekko out his bedroom window and up the fire escape ladder that leads to the roof.

Ekko sits and empties his pockets.

“Woah! You found a square plug! Powder’s been looking for one of those-“ I say and he nods.

“Yeah I remember. I had found a few earlier but they were all either too rusted or stripped,” Ekko says.

“Stripped?” I ask. He nods.

“See all these grooves on this part?” He asks, pointing to the part that goes into whatever needs the plug. I reach and feel it. It’s small, but bumpy and I nod.

“If a screw or something is stripped, it doesn’t have that and won’t be able to fit into place,” Ekko explains. I nod, understanding. I watch Ekko tinker with the parts he’s salvaged along with a few parts scattered about the rooftop hideout.

He’s trying to fix his stopwatch. It got broken during a game between him and Powder. I remember watching the 2 in the alley. Ekko had dodged the 1st 3 shots before getting hit with pink paint on the 4th shot, with Powder exclaiming victory and laughing. Ekko, in frustration had thrown the stopwatch down and it broke.

“There, I think I got it-“ he says, closing it up. He clicks the button and I hear a soft, but audible ticking noise. I smile and see the red pointer ticking.

“You fixed it!” I exclaim happily. He nods.

“Wanna go to the basement?” Ekko asks, referring to our hangout/sleeping area in the basement of the Last Drop. I nod and we head down the ladder and hop down onto the garbage bins before jumping down to the ground and walking across and down the street.

We get to the bar and I have us enter through the side alley door. Ekko gets the heavy door for me and closes it behind us. I hurry down the steps and open the basement door. I flick the light switch and hurry down the rest of the stairs before hopping onto the couch. We continue talking, mostly about the others.

After about two and a half hours pass, Ekko decides to head back home. I’m laying in the lower bunk Powder and I share, listening to music. That’s when the door suddenly opens and I gasp. I look and see my older siblings trudge down the stairs. Mylo, Claggor and Powder take the couches while Vi takes the armchair.

“You’re back!” I exclaim happily, running up to Powder and Vi. I hug both of them before getting a good look at them. Powder appears to be ok, but the others are covered in blood and bruises and they’re all a bit dirty and smell a bit.

“Yeah, we’re back,” Mylo scoffs.

“What happened to you?” I ask.

“Vander learns none of this,” Vi instructs, ignoring my question.

“No worries there—Powder took care of the evidence,” Mylo complains.

“I tried ok!? I-It’s not fair! You’re older! You’re bigger! It isn’t fair!” Powder exclaims back at him.

“So stick with us! Take a punch or two!” Mylo exclaims. I grab the rubber ball we play with and throw it hard at Mylo, hitting his shoulder.

“Ow! Hey you little-!” Mylo exclaims, rubbing his shoulder before the sound of the door opening shuts him up.

“Everyone alright?” Dad asks, walking down the stairs.

“Never better…good,” the boys mumble. Vi refuses to look at him. Something’s definitely wrong.

“I don’t suppose you can explain why it is that I’m hearing about an explosion and a foot chase topside?” Dad asks. My eyes widen and I look at Powder, tugging on her arm. She gives me a look meaning that she’ll tell me later and I nod.

“Four children fleeing the scene. What the hell were you thinking?” Dad asks Vi.

“That we could handle a real job-“ Vi says, looking at him.

“A real job?” He asks.

“We got our own tip, planned a route, nobody even saw-“ Vi tries to explain.

“You blew up a building,” Dad argues.

“Did you even stop to think about what could have happened to you? Eh? To them?!” He asks angrily. Vi glances away, covering her mouth with her hand.

The large man sighs and rubs his forehead with his hand in frustration.

“Where did you even get this tip?” He asks. At first no one answers. He looks to Powder and she would’ve said something had Mylo not been glaring at her. Dad glances to me and his look softens a bit, but he’s still pretty serious.

“Y/N?” He asks, knowing how easily I crack.

“It was from Uncle Benzo’s,” I say and the boys sigh.

“From?” He asks. Powder gives me a nudge and shakes her head slightly.

“Little Man,” I reveal and even though I feel bad about telling, I’m glad he knows. Dad sighs, and Vi immediately stands up.

“I brought us there so be mad at me, but you’re the one who always says we have to earn our place in this world-“ Vi argues.

“I also told you time and time again the north side’s off limits!” Dad argues.

“Why!? They’ve got plenty while we’re down here scraping together coins! When did you get so comfortable living in someone else’s shadow?” Vi asks and a tense silence falls over the room. I cling to Powder, afraid of what’s going to happen.

“Everyone out,” Dad orders in a calm seriousness that is almost unsettling. The boys stand first before Powder does as well but I don’t move. Dad looks at me and I see how serious he looks.

“Powder,” he says and that’s when Powder picks me up and carries me out with her. I don’t protest. His look…he’s never looked like that…at least towards me before.

Claggor shuts the door behind us.

“He was really mad,” I whimper about the bar owner turned father.

“Why did you tell Vander?!” Mylo snaps and I flinch, tucking my face into Powder’s neck, my grip around her tightening slightly.

“Back off Mylo-“ Powder defends me, glaring at the older boy before walking away.

We walk outside to the side alley.

“A building blew up?” I ask as she sets me down. I lean against the side of the building and slide down to sit. Powder nods and takes a seat next to me.

“Yeah, it was an accident,” she tells me.

“What happened?” I ask.

“I..I don’t really know. We had to hurry out-“ Powder tells me.

“Well at least you made it back,” I tell her.

“Yeah, barely,” she replies with a scoff.

“Why are you sad?” I ask, noticing the tears on her cheeks. She looks at me and wipes her eyes before looking away.

“I’m fine,” she lies. I pout.

“Mylo?” I ask and when she doesn’t respond, I know that means yes. I instantly wrap my arms around my older sister and squeeze.

“Why is Mylo so mean?” I ask. While Mylo would usually be mean to Powder, he hasn’t exactly been the nicest brother to me either. He always says I’m a burden and because I’m a baby, I shouldn’t hang around them. So I understand how Powder feels.

“I…I don’t know,” Powder admits, hugging me back.

3rd POV

The two girls stay sitting, hugging, for a moment. Everything that happened plays through Powder’s mind. Sure she had trouble hopping on the rooftops, but Vi had caught her. Though she didn’t miss Mylo’s eye-roll and head shake of disapproval. Then, once inside, it looked like nothing Powder had ever seen. So many books and objects, but she did recognize something, the Valdiani music box. She took that along with-

Powder gasps suddenly and her eyes widen. Y/N pulls back, slightly confused.

“What?” The younger girl asks.

“I forgot-“ Powder tells her baby sister. She reaches into the pouch she has attached to her belt and pulls out the 5 blue crystals she took. She shows them to Y/N, who awes in fascination at the glowing blue stones.

“Woah…pretty,” Y/N awes quietly. Powder smiles and nods.

“What are they?” Y/N asks curiously, reaching to pick one out of Powder’s hand to get a closer look. Y/N picks up one glowing stone and stares at it.

“I dunno-“ Powder tells Y/N.

“C’mon, let’s go show Vi-“ Y/N tells Powder, who nods in agreement.

The two girls hurry inside with Powder pulling the heavy wooden and metal door open for the both of them and shutting it as they get inside. Y/N follows Powder down the stairs as they get to the almost shut door to the basement.

“Ugh-she’s the problem,” Mylo hears. Before Y/N can open the door, Powder stops her and motions for her baby sister to be quiet. Y/N nods understanding and they peek through the crack to eavesdrop. Powder, Y/N and Ekko eavesdrop all the time so it’s not uncommon.

“Mylo I’m really not-“ Vi tries telling the wild haired boy as he tosses the rubber ball on the wall, making a thunking sound.

“Do you remember what was in that bag? The biggest payout we’ve ever seen and she just lost it!” Mylo argues.

“She made a mistake,” Vi argues.

“Name one time she hasn’t,” Mylo argues back, referring to Powder, throwing the ball roughly. Y/N notices Powder flinch sadly. She reaches out and grabs Powder’s hand and squeezes lightly.

“She’s young-“ Vi continues to argue with the boy.

“Don’t bullshit me, you were twice the person at Y/N’s age. Besides, Powder can take care of the runt while we’re out,” Mylo says, calling Y/N a runt. The little girl balls her fists angrily.

“You know what Mylo? You’re right. There’s a bunch of things Powder just can’t do and Y/N’s too young,” Vi says about both her sisters.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Mylo mutters. The two younger girls share a look before Y/N reaches up, wanting to be held. Powder picks up her younger sister and hurries out. Of course Vi hadn’t meant it the way it sounded.

However, the younger girls leave before hearing Vi’s defense.

“Like complain about everything,” Vi snaps.

“What?” Mylo asks, throwing the ball again.

“And brag nonstop,” Vi adds, sitting, leaning forward with her elbows on her thighs.

“Ok-ok I see where this is going-“ Mylo laughs, throwing the ball.

“Picking fights with the group when we need to focus?” Vi asks, catching the ball to get his attention.

“Vi I-“ Mylo chuckles.

“Or tell strangers on the street we got a nice haul?!” Vi asks interrupting the boy, throwing the ball hard at Mylo to make him understand the seriousness of his actions.

“I-I didn’t mean-“ Mylo stutters as Vi towers over him on the couch.

“The girls are my problem because they’re my sisters. Your problem is never knowing when to shut up but I’m going to help you with that,” Vi says, “see this look on my face?! This will always mean it’s time to shut up!” Vi snaps at the boy.

“But-I-!” He tries, but Vi points at her face and he sighs.

Reader POV

Powder takes me with her and that’s when I ask her.

“Am I a burden?” I ask.

“W-What?” Powder replies, more stunned than anything.

“To us…our family…to you…am I a burden?” I ask, on the verge of tears. Powder stops and sets me down. I see her own eyes shine with unshed tears.

“No-never. It’s…my fault. I’m a jinx,” Powder says, and I recognize the insult as one of Mylo’s and frown as tears slip down Powder’s cheeks.

“No! Mylo’s a liar! He’s a liar!” I start to yell, not caring that I’m crying as well. I feel a hand on my back and look up to see Powder looking at me with a kind smile, though I still notice the tears in her eyes.

“Thank you…for defending me,” Powder tells me before pulling me into a hug. The sudden switch causes my anger to die down. I immediately wrap my arms around my older sister.

“Always,” I reply.

Powder suggests going to see Ekko and I happily agree. We’re in his hideout right now, talking, though I’m mostly listening.

“Why don’t you show Y/N your surprise,” Ekko suggests and I start to hop up and down excitedly.

“Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Show me! Show me!” I exclaim. Powder looks away nervously.

“N-No-no-I…it..doesn’t work-“ Powder stutters slightly. I frown in confusion. Ekko frowns as well, but his is out of concern.

“What’re you talking about? We tested it two days a-“

“Yeah well it doesn’t work now ok? I…I used it…earlier today,” Powder admits and Ekko gives her an empathetic look.

“I don’t understand-what?” I ask, not knowing what Powder’s talking about.

“It’s ok..I’ve had stuff not work too. But you can still show Y/N, right?” Ekko asks.

“Yeah pleeeeeaaaase?!” I beg, tugging on Powder’s blue shirt. She made it herself and will also fix my clothes if they rip. She chuckles.

“Ok-ok-“ she says and pulls out something from her leather pouch. I look and see it looks metallic but my eyes immediately go to the bright colors on it. It looks like a-

“Mouse,” I say, pointing. She chuckles and nods.

“Good eye. This is Mouser,” she tells me but I watch her expression fall into sadness.

“She didn’t work,” she says as if remembering something.

“But she will, we can work together,” Ekko says, glancing at me with a smile. I smile back and nod eagerly.

“Yeah! I wanna help! I wanna help! Pow-pow please?!” I beg. She looks at me and nods after only a moment.

“Sure, I could use all the help I can get-“ she says and I cheer happily.

“Yaaaaay!! I’ll help!! I’ll help!” I exclaim before Powder and Ekko grab Ekko’s toolbox. She sets Mouser down and unscrews the head.

“Can I see?” I ask and she nods. She teaches me about how she built it and how it’s supposed to work.

“Does she go boom?!” I ask excitedly and Powder nods.

“Let’s see what the problem is,” Ekko says, spinning a wrench in his hand. I watch my older siblings get to work and I make sure to pay attention.

After about an hour or so, Powder realizes we should go home.

“But we’re not done!” I argue.

“We can always finish tomorrow,” Ekko says and Powder nods.

“Vander basically grounded us anyways,” Powder adds. I sigh, pouting.

“C’mon, I’ll show you my latest idea,” Powder bribes. I light up and nod.

“Ok,” I agree and turn to Ekko and leap at him. I wrap my scrawny small arms around his hips and squeeze tightly.

“Bye Little Man,” I say, using his nickname. He chuckles lightly and ruffles my hair with one hand and hugs me with the other.

“See ya tomorrow Lil Sis,” he says as I pull back. I watch as he and Powder hug tightly before parting. Powder grabs my hand and waves goodbye to Ekko as we walk home. I wave too as the boy waves back at us.

We get back to the bar just as Dad and Claggor head out.

“Girls, it’s time to stay home,” Dad tells us and we nod as he and Claggor walk down to Uncle Benzo’s.

“Huh, I wonder what’s going on,” Powder says out loud but when I try to follow, she grabs hold of my collar and makes sure I go inside.

We walk in and I hurry down to the basement. I open the door slowly at first to take a peek, but when I look around, I see it’s empty.

“C’mon, no one’s here,” I tell her and walk inside.

Powder turns on the music/record player as I grab the colors I got earlier from Uncle Benzo and find a piece of paper in the wooden box Powder lets me keep some of my stuff in.

“What is that?” Powder asks me.

“It’s some colors Uncle Benzo got. He gave them to me and I wanna add ‘em to the ones we got,” I explain.

“Ooh can I draw with you?” Powder asks and I nod eagerly.

“Yeah!” I exclaim happily. Powder moves over on our bed and motions for me to sit next to her. I grab my stuff and move over to my sister. She grabs one of the new colors I got. I’m confused at first until she grabs one of her inventions.

“What’s that?” I ask, curious.

“This one is Whisker. She goes with Mouser,” Powder explains, drawing on the metal container.

We keep coloring until the basement door opens again. I look up and see Vi walk down the stairs. She approaches our bunk and leans on the top, looking down at us.

“What’re you calling this one?” Vi asks, knowing Powder names her inventions.

“Whisker,” Powder says as she outlines the mouth.

“Here, move over kiddo,” Vi tells me and I shift to the side so Vi can sit down.

“You wanna talk about today?” Vi asks her.

“What’s the point? I ruin everything. I always do,” Powder says, sitting up with her legs pulled up so her knees meet her chin.

“Nobody said that-“ Vi tries telling her.

“No, just that you were ‘twice the person at Y/N’s age’,” Powder says, repeating what we had overheard earlier between Mylo and Vi.

“You heard them,” Powder tells Vi sadly as she clicks Whisker’s head into place, “I’m not a fighter,” she says.

“You don’t have to be,” Vi says as Powder frustratedly presses Whisker against her forehead. Vi glances up where Powder hangs all her bombs that she makes.

“Look, I’ve got these, and you’ve got those,” Vi says making a fist before lightly touching the metallic canisters.

“They never work-“ Powder argues.

“They will,” Vi says and I nod.

“You help teach me stuff-I need you-“ I say, emphasizing that I need her, and Powder gives me a half-hearted smile. Vi smiles at me and ruffles my hair.

“She’s right,” Vi tells Powder before Vi’s eyes light up a bit.

“Come with me,” Vi says. Without waiting, I immediately jump out of bed and start following.

“What?” Powder asks.

“C’mon,” Vi insists as I tug on Powder’s arm. She pats my hand and shuts off the string lights in our bunk before we head outside, up on the roof.

I cling to Powder’s arm as we follow Vi out the door and to the edge of the room. She sits and motions for us to do the same. Powder sits on Vi’s left and, wanting to sit next to both of them, I wriggle in between them, making my older sisters chuckle and Vi ruffles my hair.

“What’re we doing out here?” Powder asks. Vi looks and spots a rusted out pipe stuck in the chain link leaned up against some old boxes.

“Here, see that sign?” Vi asks, handing Powder the pipe. Vi points and Powder follows Vi’s finger.

“Mylo drew that middle finger and he tripped over that red paint bucket and nearly fell off. His ass made that splotch,” Vi says. I cup my hands around my eyes to get a better look and spot the paint. Powder laughs.

“And there-“ Vi points to the right and down. We follow and see a small gap in the ground with wooden planks as a walkway.

“Claggor tripped there running from Enforcers and got his foot stuck. He was there all night before we found him,” Vi explains. I see some guy peeing, but I think about the story Vi told. It’s not close to the bar so Claggor must’ve been scared…I would be if I was alone.

“And that,” Vi says, pointing to the power lines that connect to the bar. Powder lowers the pipe and looks. They string to different buildings and disappear in the dim light. But I spot something tangled in the lines. It’s…it’s a toy! Powder sees it too.

“When I was a kid, some guy took my favorite toy and threw it up there,” Vi explains.

“I’d come outside hoping the wind or a bird might knock it down,” Vi says with a sad look on her face.

“We’ve all had bad days. But we learn, and we stick together,” Vi says, wrapping her arm around us and pulling both me and Powder into her. We smile at Vi. That’s when I remember what Powder had shown me earlier.

“Pow-pow-“ I say, tugging lightly on her shirt, “the light rocks-“ I remind her and she gasps.

“Oh! I forgot!” She exclaims.

“What’s a light rock?” Vi asks curiously. Powder takes out 3 of the glowing blue stones from earlier and shows Vi.

“These were in my pocket. They’re from the apartment,” Powder explains to Vi.

“What are they?” Vi asks, staring at the small glowing stone in Powder’s hand.

“We dunno,” Powder says, glancing at me.

“Maybe we can get lots of money for them!” I suggest.

“You mean they’re valuable?” Powder asks and I nod.

“Should we show Vander?” Powder asks Vi.

“No-“ Vi immediately answers. Powder and I exchange a worried look before turning to Vi.

“Let’s keep this our little secret,” Vi says looking at both of us. Powder nods and Vi looks down at me.

“Y/N?” She asks and I look to Powder, who nods encouragingly.

“I won’t tell,” I assure my oldest sister.

“Mylo’s wrong Powder. You’re stronger than you think. And Y/N, you may be young, but you’re smart. Pow-pow and Little Man taught you well,” Vi compliments, winking at Powder, who absorbs Vi’s affection. Powder told me once that she wished she could be more like Vi to protect me so I know she wants to be like Vi.

“One day, this city’s gonna respect us,” Vi says confidently, standing up to look at the sprawling city. I lean against Powder’s side and think about Mylo…what he said…and I think about how Vi doesn’t feel that way. The light breeze feels nice and I enjoy the time with my sisters.

Meanwhile…

3rd POV

Deckard makes his way through the streets until he’s suddenly ambushed. He blacks out and wakes up when he’s thrown into a chair. He groans as the chair skids back a bit from the force. His breathing quickens as a large pale man sneers at him. The muscular man presses a pipe against Deckard’s neck.

“Gah!” Deckard gasp and starts squirming.

“You were supposed to follow them and not interfere,” a smooth, slightly raspy male voice says followed by a small sound of metal clicking. Deckard struggles against the metal choking him.

“I’m sorry! They split up and caught us by surprise!” Deckard gasps.

“Now his accomplice is asking questions about you,” the man replies. Deckard looks and in the dim lighting, he can make out a thin man with slicked back dark hair. His clothes look nice but Deckard can’t make out the details. The man is holding some sort of metallic device. Deckard watches as the man tilts his head back and uses the metal device to pierce his eye! Deckard’s eyes widen in shock.

“That’s not a risk I’m willing to take,” the man says and the huge muscular man pressing the pipe to Deckard’s neck suddenly presses harder.

“Agh-“ the young man gasps.

“The kids! It was their fault! The explosion! In the upper city!” Deckard pleads, and that gets the mystery man’s attention.

“That was them?” He asks.

“Yeah. The topsiders are up in arms looking for ‘em,” Deckard explains.

“Vander’s in trouble,” the mysterious man says, referring to the Last Drop’s owner. The man turns to look Deckard face on and Deckard chuckles nervously when he sees the mystery man’s left eye is glowing in the darkness.

“Smartest thing you ever said, boy,” the man says, standing. The man practically saunters over.

“Get him a meal,” the mystery man tells the other two that presumably work for him. The muscular man lets go of Deckard’s throat, tossing the metal pipe down with a clanging sound and the young man gasps for air.

“Keep him off the streets,” the man instructs as the two men practically drag Deckard away.

The mystery man walks up to the glass wall that looks out at the vast ocean that’s home to many of the sea creatures and monsters the man enjoys watching.

“Our timeline has moved up,” the mystery man says, at first appearing to talk to himself, until a quiet scientist makes his presence known behind the thin man.

“It’s almost ready,” the scientist says, looking at a vile of glowing purple liquid.

“Show me,” the man says. The scientist motions for him to follow to a small enclosed space that contains a mouse.

“Feeding time,” the scientist says, picking up a hairless cat looking inside the area. The cat meows as he’s placed inside. The scientist locks it closed before the man turns to him.

“And the side effects?” The man asks. The scientist mixes in the glowing liquid with the mouse’s water supply.

“Stabilizing,” the scientist replies, tapping the glass to get the mouse’s attention. It squeaks before going over to the slightly purple water. It drinks some of the water while the cat stalks up to it curiously.

The mouse suddenly squeaks as if in pain and backs away from the water, twitching. That’s when purple veins start appearing all over the mouse and it grows in size by about 3 times, gaining unnatural muscle. And it’s regular, black eye is now a glowing purple. It’s squeaks are now a mash of snarls and noises of pain. The monster mouse turns on the cat, causing the cat to freeze. The mouse leaps at the cat and the feline lets out a dying meow as the rat instantly kills the animal.

The glass cracks and blood splatters, causing the 2 men to make faces of slight disgust.

“Do you have a subject in mind?” The scientist asks.

“Someone just volunteered,” the mysterious man says, referring to Deckard.

End.

Chapter 2

#arcane #arcane fanfic #arcane reader insert #arcane female reader #sisters of mine #sisters of mine fanfic #sisters of mine chapter 1 #fic #chapter 1 #fanfic #sisters of mine arcane fanfic #reader is female #child reader #female child reader #alternate universe #au #au fanfiction #arcane au

[cheeriecherry]

The Lonely [Chapter Two]

Pairing: Viktor x fem!Reader Warnings: one mention of hunting for food, one (1) weed joke, reading being slightly less dramatic Fandom: Arcane Proofread: god not even a little bit

Summary: You try to get Viktor to eat, and then show him something you think he’ll enjoy.

CHAPTER TWO

It takes nearly an hour to show your guest -whose name you’ve learned is Viktor- around the castle. He apologizes once for being slower than you’re used to, but you tell him that you don’t mind. Vampiric as you might be, you don’t mind taking your time every now and again to stop and sniff the proverbial roses; it’s probably one of the few joys you’re able to find in your elongated, repetitive life.

You take him around the general interior of your home, pointing out where certain human necessities are, and through several bedrooms. He crinkles his nose at the first few, and for the first time in a while, you feel shame about the state you’ve let the building fall into.

“The architecture here is beautiful,” he says, “so why have you let it fall to ruin?”

You prickle at the backhanded compliment, and fix him with an annoyed frown. “Do you often criticize the homes you break into?”

Surprise crosses his face, and morphs into a somewhat apologetic expression; though he makes no move to actually say he’s sorry.

You sigh for possibly the fifth time that hour, and lead him out of the room to find another.

“If you must know,” you explain, “I don’t have a habit of entertaining guests. I hardly have any use for bedrooms, aside from extensive storage, and being as old as I am, I have accumulated a lot of…stuff. I don’t really have anything else to do with it.”

You stop in front of another door, and give it an experimental nudge. It doesn’t seem to be blocked by anything, as a few had been previously, but it definitely shows some resistance.

“Another collection behind this one, perhaps?” he suggests. You make to deliver him a snarky reply, but settle on a halfhearted glare when you see the mischief in his eyes.

“Rust in the frame, actually,” you tell him, ushering him away from the door. He watches you curiously as you reach up to the hinges and pull them from the wall with ease, which in turn allows you to simply slide the door sideways out of the lock and lean it nearby.

His gaze flicks between you and the door, and you roll your eyes.

“I’ll fix it, Viktor.”

“No, no, I don’t doubt that, it’s just…”

“Just what?” you hiss. 

His lips curl into a bemused little smile, and he shakes his head, walking into the room.

“Just what, Viktor?”

He fully ignores you, interested now in exploring his potential residence. You suppress yet another agitated sigh, and lean against the wall while he scrutinizes the mess.

He pokes at every piece of furniture you’ve moved into the space, perhaps judging, or appraising, or whatever-the-hell. You don’t know. He doesn’t say anything while he looks around, and you don’t feel the inclination to ask and risk receiving another scathing remark.

Considering he’s the one who sought you out, he’s made himself awfully intractable. You’ve not even known him for a day, and already you can tell that he’s going to be horrifically stubborn to live with. It almost makes you regret offering him room and board.

Or maybe you’ve just become accustomed to only having to worry about your own needs. You don’t know.

“Y/N?”

You jump backwards when you feel him lay a hand on your shoulder, your thoughts receding to be replaced by momentary panic. He quickly steps back from you to give you some space, equally as wide-eyed and surprised as you are at your reaction.

You swallow thickly, and take a moment to briefly gather your composure.

“Sorry,” you say, “I wasn’t paying attention. Did you say something?”

He doesn’t make a sound for a couple seconds, instead watching you with mild confusion while he tries to make sense of your behavior.

“You are…unlike any vampire I’ve met,” he utters softly, and lets his hand fall back to his side. “However, I was saying that I think this one will do well enough, assuming the door will be repaired?”

You nod, silently thanking whatever deities might be out there that he chooses not to press on the subject of your awkwardness.

“I’ll replace it after I clear the area out,” you agree, and herd him out of the crowded room. “For now, there is another matter to attend to, and it sounds like it might be dire.”

He stops in the middle of the hallway to give you a questioning glance, and you continue to nudge him along.

“Your stomach, Viktor,” your tone is exasperated. “I can hear your stomach growling from all the way over here. Come with me, and I’ll fix you a meal, okay? I think I’ve got at least a few things stashed away.”

~~~

Twenty minutes later, you’re ashamedly eating your words as you try to scrape together some kind of palatable meal for your guest. 

Time truly is sometimes lost to you, you realize, when you pry open a can of vegetables and discover they’re fuzzy. You assure Viktor that it’s probably just a can that you forgot about and that the others will be fine, and seconds later you eat your words again.

Of all twelve cans in your possession, the first one you’d opened had been the youngest of them.

“What about this one?” Viktor suggests, looking over your shoulder and pointing at a can of beans. “Black beans are…filling enough.”

You wince. “Viktor, even if that were true…those, uh, aren’t beans.”

“What-” “It’s corn,” you cut him off. He decides to go sit down after that.

You lean against the counter to think. You could run quickly to the forest on the other side of town; snatch up a rabbit or two, forage for a few roots. And it wouldn’t take much to drop into one of the smaller local shops to grab some bouillon cubes. 

But it had been more than half a day since Viktor had shown up, and you had no idea when the last time he ate before then was. He hadn’t some with any backpack or tote -hell, he hadn’t even had much of a coat on his back. For all you knew, it could have been days.

And sure, the man probably wouldn’t starve in the couple hours it might take you to catch and prepare a meal, but...god, no. He was ill, this much you knew, and making him wait any longer could have worse consequences than not.

“How do you feel about jelly tarts?” you ask him suddenly. 

“Jelly tarts?”

You turn away from him to begin rooting around in your cupboards. “Jelly tarts,” you confirm, and exclaim happily when you find the slightly-squished box you’d stashed away.

“About two weeks ago, a couple of drunk college students wandered in here,” you explain to him, folding the flaps of the package open. “I made a snack out of one -don’t worry, he’s fine- and then stole their stuff before I made them march back to town.”

“And one of them had…jelly tarts?” Viktor looks entirely unconvinced, eyeing the pastries you’ve shoved before him with suspicion.

You take a seat across from him, and grab the fattest tart you can see. “They actually had a lot more than tarts,” you take a bite, “cheez-its, popcorn, reese’s cups, a bag of lemons for some reason, a little box of joints.”

Seeing you eat the pastry seemed to put him at ease enough to take one of his own and give it an experimental bite.

“The tarts are all that’s left at this point. I was most excited about them, so I was saving them.”

“For two weeks?” he seems unoffended by the flavours of the treat, and continues eating it.

“I was waiting for a special occasion!”

“And this is that occasion?”

“Making sure you don’t starve is more important, Viktor.”

He doesn’t reply, nor does he pay much mind to your pouting aside from a small smile. The two of you continue eating for a little while, sharing light conversation in between bites. 

At one point you ask him if he likes reading, and he says that he does. You expect it to end there, but instead he continues to tell you about the reading he did in his studies, and what kinds of work he had done in years prior.

“You’re like, a scientist, then?” you ask. You’ve all but forgotten about the snacks in front of you, your attention having shifted fully over to Viktor.

“Yes,” he says, “I was.”

“What kinds of things did you make?”

He seems somewhat taken aback by your enthusiasm, as if he’d rarely ever met anyone who seemed so earnestly interested in the work he’d done.

“I, ah…machines, I suppose?”

“Viktor, c’mon. You’re giving me crumbs. Crumbs, Viktor. What kinds of machines did you make?”

He huffs a soft laugh, and shifts in his seat to be more comfortable. And then he tells you of the things he’d built.

It had started in his youth, his interest in creation. The first vampire he’d ever met had been the one who’d fostered his interest, and shown him how things worked. The one who’d given him books, and supplies, and congratulated him when he successfully created projects that functioned. You don’t miss the way his tone saddens slightly when talking about this friend of his, but you decide not to mention it.

He tells you of his years in university, both as a student and as an assistant, and eventually as one of the inventors on staff at the establishment.

“We were trying to replicate the human body, in a way,” he explains, “but as a machine. Stronger, more durable, and able to be operated remotely.”

“To cut out the dangerous aspects of jobs?” you ask, and when he nods, your enthusiasm doubles. “Viktor- heavens, that’s incredible. Do you know how many people could be helped by something like that? To have the risk of necessary duties reduced, but still require specific skill sets…”

You smile brightly at each other for several moments, a fluttery, unfamiliar warmth blooming in your chest. Perhaps not entirely unfamiliar, in truth; you’d had these same feelings many centuries ago, when your thirst for adventure and knowledge and life had been at its height.

Your face falls slightly, and you can plainly see that Viktor notices.

“So…what happened?” you wonder, “Why haven’t I seen your name plastered around the world for such a brilliant invention?”

Anger flashes harsh in his amber eyes, but it’s gone the moment you notice it. He takes a few seconds to compose himself and shift into a more comfortable position, before explaining, “I had a partner.”

“We argued about many things, but on most fronts we were agreeable. Until one day, we were not.”

You remain quiet, allowing him time to take a breath and continue.

“He was always the figurehead of our endeavors, and I had no problem with this. I was content to remain in his shadow, as long as our work, my work, was able to help people.”

“I…take it something changed, then?” you question, watching him closely as emotions of every colour pass across his features.

“You could say that,” his tone is sharp and bitter. “He wanted to start making weaponry. For defense, he’d said. He was naive; he had no clue what would happen when such technology got into the wrong hands. We were already dealing with backlash from experiments prior, but this?”

You cast your gaze down to the table. “It would have ruined you.”

“And ruined countless other lives.”

A part of you wants to reach out and touch him, take his hand or wrap an arm over his shoulders; comfort him, and try to ease his distress. You almost do, too, your anxiety only stopping you at the last moment to instead reach for the final jelly tart.

He almost looks disappointed, when your hand diverts suddenly and grabs the last of the treats. Whether because he wanted the snack, or wanted the touch, you do not know.

“Viktor,” you ask around a mouthful of pasty, “would it make you happy, if you could invent things again?”

The question takes him slightly off guard, and he’s pensive for a couple seconds while he gathers his words. “I…suppose so?” though he doesn’t sound entirely sure. “It’s been years now, though. With my whole,” he gestures at himself, “everything going on, I’ve not had the time to put into any of my ideas.”

You polish off the tart in record speed, and stand up fast enough that your chair topples backwards. Viktor is shocked for a fraction of a second, before you’re offering your hand to him along with a bright, mischievous smile.

“Come with me,” you demand, and his eyes flick to your hand, then back to your face.

“Why?”

You wiggle your fingers, “Just trust me. I think you’ll like it.”

Despite what may possibly be his better judgment, he takes your hand and allows you to pull him along to wherever you’re going.

~~~

By the time you stop in front of a set of doors, Viktor is mildly out of breath. You’d taken your time bringing him up there, and made sure to stop whenever he needed, but the amount of stairs to climb to this section of the castle would make anyone want to turn around and leave. Which was precisely why you kept this specific collection tucked so far away.

You pull on the chain around your neck, producing an old brass key from inside your blouse, and lean down towards the door. “This is the only room I actually keep locked,” you tell him, sliding the key into its hole and twisting, “I have a lot of stuff, you’ve surely noticed, but this is the only room that has anything of value to me. And I suspect to you, as well.”

You push the heavy, ornate door, which rolls open with a low rumble, and usher Viktor into the room.

You hide a smile when you get to see his reaction to the room you’ve shown him; the way his heartbeat quickens and his breath catches in his throat. The golden light of the chandeliers casts a soft glow across his face, highlights his cheeks and adds an extra layer of warmth to his eyes.

“This is…” he trails off, instead walking further into the library to continue exploring.

“It’s my most prized possession,” you explain, following a couple feet behind him while he weaves between shelves. “Everything I’ve come across and studied for the past…oh, eight hundred years? I think. Mathematics, science, alchemy.” You fondly pat a row of books. “There’s also some stuff from before my time, like, way before my time. I think it was old even to my dad- vampire dad, that is- I, uh.”

You hush for a moment when you realize Viktor’s looking at you like you just gave him the stars -gentle and kind and intense and…

You do your best to hide the way you’re becoming flustered, clearing your throat and motioning him further into the room.

“Some stuff is probably out of date, but you’re welcome to make as much use of this place as you want. Books, desks, alchemy lab, everything. It might need a bit of a dusting,” guilt wiggles in your chest, “but it should all still work.”

You swipe your finger along the top of one of the miniature table alembics belonging to your father’s old alchemy set. “Yeah,” you sigh, “it definitely needs to be cleaned. I’ll start with your room, and then-”

“Maybe you could start with this place?”

You pause.

Viktor fidgets slightly. “I just mean, this place is less of a mess than the room? It’s dusty, but that is about it. It would be quicker if we started here, and then when you get to the bedroom, I shall not be underfoot.”

You raise a brow at him, and this time you’re unable to hide the smile and mirthful laugh that bubbles up. “Just say you’re excited to play with the fancy science kit, Viktor, it’s fine.”

He says nothing, tactfully pretending to have not heard you, and you roll your eyes. As serious as his demeanor has been, you’re beginning to learn that he has a bit of a playful streak. You let him know that you’re going to run downstairs to get some cleaning supplies, and he offers you a half-interested hum as he pulls a book from a nearby shelf.

You watch him for half a second by the doorway, as he settles himself down in one of the old chairs and gingerly opens the book, his fingertips oh-so-gently stroking the ancient ink scrawled across the paper. Sadness pangs in your chest.

How many years had it been since you’d come up here? After all your centuries of reading, and writing, and organizing, and collecting such treasured information; how long had it been since you’d looked at it? How long had it been since you’d had the desire to look at it?

You look away from Viktor, and disappear from the doorway, and in the dark of the hallway you promise yourself that you will never let him feel so completely devoid of life.

A/N: I don’t know how to do do taglists. Do you just like

@writingmysanity

???

#viktor x reader #arcane x reader #viktor arcane x reader #viktor x vampire!reader #viktor #arcane reader insert #The Lonely

[abysstrap-ran]

❖ Maestro

(Viktor x Reader)

A/N: A random whimsical thought of mine. Purely self-indulgent as I get used to writing vik hahaha-

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Hailing from the Undercity meant that some luxuries were things that couldn’t be afforded. Viktor had never thought of himself as one for the arts, but he wouldn't say no if you were the one playing the strings.

A twist, a stroke, and a sharp crisp sound.

You winced at the shrillness of a note gone wrong, moving to tune the violin once more. Your hands smoothed over the curled maple, skilled fingers twisting the tuning peg a little further before picking up the bow once more, placing it above the fine, translucent strings.

The violin, old and stubborn as it was, gave a few indignant squeaks before the note started ringing out as it should. 

The sound of it reverberated in the air, soft and tinkering. 

You let out a satisfied hum as you moved to work on fine-tuning another string, repeating this process over and over again until you’d gone through at least a round on them all. Music filled the air with a sigh, breathing life into the stillness of the room.

Little did you know, that while busy with your task at hand, you had a visitor.

⊹ ━━━ ✥ ━━━ ⊹

Your little stunt with the strings had not gone unnoticed by the other resident in the house. 

Viktor stirred from his dreamless sleep, roused by the faint tickling of a tune in his ears. Blearily cracking his eyes open, he ran a hand over his face.

A quick glance at the small clock on the right told him that it was well past noon. And from the rustling that he could vaguely pick up as he rightened himself on his seat, he deduced that he’d fallen asleep at his desk yet again.

When had he fallen asleep?

The tune fills the air once more, growing richer and richer as moments pass. Intrigued, he fetched his cane, lying against the side of his workstation, and headed down the hall. Like a moth to the flame, he followed the music down to your abode.

It was almost as if you'd just put a spell on him, with the way he was rooted to the spot, his hand frozen mid-way to the door. He had meant to knock, only to realize that it hung slightly ajar.

Viktor stood outside the door, basking in the sweet timbre of the violin's melodious tune. He didn't quite dare breathe, for fear that it may alert you to his presence, effectively breaking him out of this magical hold it had on him and the trance you seemed to be in while working your craft.

The sunlight faintly shone through the sheer curtains, bathing everything in a soft orange glow. He watched as you tucked the violin back under your chin, admiring the way your fingers moved delicately over the strings, the manner you conducted yourself as you angled the bow. His eyes trailed after your every movement, enamoured, and entranced by the music. Warm and tender, soothing to his ever frazzled nerves.

It was just like the extra dollop of honey you’d sometimes put his favourite sweet milk on long nights, different from how he’d usually make it; the kind that made him smile under the haze of fatigue. He let the music wash over him, warming the blood running through his veins, making his skin tingle in the most miraculous of ways.

Viktor had never thought of himself as one for the arts, but he wouldn't say no if you were the one playing the strings.

There he stood, for a solid couple of minutes until the song ended, tapering off into silence. Until he accidentally misstepped. A muted gasp left his lips as the floorboard creaked under his weight, breaking the once tranquil silence that had filled the air.

The sound snapped you out of your reverie and the soft tapping of a cane alerted you to his presence as he drew closer.

"Enjoy the show?"

"Your music, it's beautiful." A familiar accented voice sounded from behind, filled with slight awe.

You then notice his rumpled clothes and bedraggled appearance. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. “Sorry, did I wake you? I’ll, uh, put this away for another time then. I’d hate to interrupt your…”

The word “rest” never made it out of your mouth. His hand had shot out to grasp your wrist, effectively halting you in your plans to put the instrument away.

“No, no. Don’t stop on my account.” He spoke with his usual lilt as he gave you a small smile.

He then saw the instrument itself, capable of creating the most pleasant of tunes, and the most sorrowful cries. Once only known to him as a fable; he’d read about it in books, and heard rumours of it in the air, but the Undercity wasn’t as blessed. 

Violins of this quality were a novelty that only Piltover afforded.

He gently took it from you, cradling it in his arms as his ever-curious eyes observed. Viktor knew what old, treasured, things looked like. And this was the very epitome of one such example.

“Intricate craftsmanship. Looks like an antique?”

The faint scent of newly varnished wood wafted from the violin, the Maplewood smooth beneath his touch. He traced a hand over its carefully carved designs, noting the slight blemishes it wore. The wood was old, worn, and bore the scars of time, yet its sound was as bold and rich as ever, like finely aged wine.

You huffed a laugh as he carefully handed it back to you. “Jayce dropped it off saying he found it in his old storage room and hadn’t had a use for an instrument like this. He figured it’d be better off in the hands of someone who knew how to use it.”

“Remind me to thank him for his brilliance.”

Viktor paused, slightly hesitant. He wasn’t one to ask anything of anyone. His upbringing had conditioned him to never expect anything, for fear of disappointment. 

His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he carefully phrased his question. His golden eyes brightened, doe-eyed and hopeful as he looked towards you in earnest. “Play for me?”

A soft murmur falls from his lips as he pressed them against your temple.

"My own personal virtuoso."

#Viktor x reader #viktor arcane #arcane viktor #Viktor #Arcane #Arcane imagines #Arcane reader insert #Arcane fanfiction #league of legends

[buttermynutter]

Don’t Call It Face Painting | Mel Medarda x Reader

Summary: (Platonic gen fic) Mel is more than happy to do your makeup for Piltover's Progress Day Warnings: None! Word count: 2.3K

Snap, snap, snap. 

You pressed the metal buttons of your suit vest together, each click more satisfying than the last. Giving the outerwear one last look, you moved on to inspecting your sleeves, the blouse much more loose and flowing compared to the sleak leather vest. It was embroidered with Piltover's typical teal and gold, mirroring the shoulder guards you were donning - the best you had, specifically polished for this year's showcase. 

Although you were still among the city's working class - a blacksmith - the day was still immensely important to you, as new inventions could lighten your labor greatly. You faced the mirror, your hands on your hips, a small detail gnawing at the back of your mind, though you didn't know what. 

A heavy knock on your front door broke you from your thoughts and a flash of worry began to settle in before you realized exactly who it was. You hurried out of the room to welcome your guest, their dazzling smile greeting you as soon as you opened the door.

"My, how beautiful you look! I was about to be worried that you weren't home."

Mel appeared pristine as always, not a single strand of hair out of place. She looked you from head to toe approvingly and you returned the movement, your eyes catching on her shoes. 

"Mel!" you exclaimed, a bit worried your observation would prove to be offensive. "Your shoes are muddy! Well, at least, more muddy than I've seen them."

She only smiled wider, drawing a line in the dirt with the tip of her shoe. "I know, I'll have to go back to my quarters for a change. My assistant just happened to be out and I didn't want to bother with scheduling a ship, so I decided to walk here instead."

You blushed, slightly embarrassed that she would do so for you. It was a long way from the council offices, and you couldn't imagine that she did something like this regularly. Although, Mel did seem to overstep her boundaries quite often for you. You had first served as merely her goldsmith, but after many months it proved that she enjoyed your company just as much - if not more - as your craft. 

"Do come in, you know your way around. I was just putting the finishing touches on my outfit." 

She strided past you, brushing your shoulder affectionately as she did, her footsteps already fading into your bedroom as you locked the door. 

When you walked in, she already had a medallion in hand - a token on the smaller side that was set with stones you had specially imported from Noxia, their fiercely vivid colors glinting as the eyes to the bird you had imprinted in the gold. 

"Your own work?" Mel questioned, a slender finger gliding along its embellishments.

You nodded, motioning to the bin of mismatched jewelry it had came from. "They were all either rejected by the customer or made for practice."

Mel sifted through the container, looking impressed. The metal clanked against each other pleasantly as she did so, seeming almost entranced by the trinkets.

She picked one out abruptly, its chain rattling against the side of the tin as she held it up to the light shining through the window. It rebounded flawlessly against the platinum, a three dimensional star clearly illuminated. 

If someone had asked you what it looked like when a person was in love, you indefinitely would've picked Mel at this very moment. Eyes wide, she asked you, "This was potentially turned away? Can I wear this to the event? I'll return it, I promise. You know I normally wouldn't ask something like this, but it's just too perfect."

You nodded, surprised she even thought it was wrong of her to ask. "Of course, you can even keep it. It's just collecting dust in my nightstand, and you've supported me so much, you deserve it. Plus, I think Jayce would like it."

She glowered at you, though her overall demeanor shone. "As dazzling as this is, I doubt how I look will mean anything to him when he's on stage. Though, I can't thank you enough, there must be something I can do for you. Also, I do like what you've put together. The blouse and vest is very Bilgewater-esque, a good change of pace from those high collars and heavy coats walking the streets." Mel rolled her eyes, continuing, "If I have to see either Salo or Hoskel wearing one more shirt starched to Zaun, I will simply push them through the council room's window."

You laughed in response, having shared her lack of affinity for the other council members solely from her stories. A moment of silence hung in the air before a thought popped in your head, putting a finger on both Mel's proposed favor and the missing element of your appearance. 

"Mel," you said slowly, her eyes immediately flitting towards you. "How would you feel about doing my makeup for the occassion?" 

She gasped, and though you didn't think she could look happier than when she found the star necklace, here she was proving you wrong. 

"I thought you'd never ask! Just as well, I can go home and change into something that matches this more," she replied, dangling the chain in front of her, "and we can use my cosmetics on you! Just when this day couldn't get any better, you give me another gift."

You rolled our eyes playfully, glad that her usual formal tone was now considerably more animated. 

"Well, what are waiting for then?"

You had guessed correctly that the walk between Mel's living spaces and yours was anything other than brisk, but soon you stood at the doorway to her quarters. 

She was still over the moon as she swiftly inserted her key, the door cracking open to the subtle but distinct scent of incense. Her home looked exactly as you had imagined them, regal but modern. Before you could properly gape at the lavish furnishings, Mel grabbed your wrist and swept you into the next room, a vanity on one end and a covered easel on the next. Several palette knives were strewn across its base, a heavy stained tarp between them and the floor. 

You turned your attention to the vanity instead, a tall mirror standing in the middle of its unusually wide desk, stacked with a myriad of ornate canisters and tubes. 

Mel beckoned you into the carved wooden chair that stood before it, so flamboyant that you were afraid to even lay a finger on it, much less sit on it.

You stared awkwardly into your own reflection once you sat down, almost missing Mel's movement as she heaved another chair over to the vanity, gesturing you to turn your own towards her. She smiled wistfully as she broke the silence.

"I'd love to know more about this choice you made, assuming my eagerness hasn't scared you off."

Having already anticipated the question, you quickly answered, "Work doesn't leave me much time to practice these things, not to mention the budgetary aspect. I'm aware that most beauty products are imported, so I simply can't afford to buy any just to wear a few times a year."

Mel nodded, nimbly setting a few of the containers in front of her on the table. "Well, in that case, I'll make sure to find more opportunities for me to work my magic on you."

You barely began to deny her before she shushed you, opening and closing drawers so fast that you weren't sure which objects she was retrieving from each one. 

"I'm confident you'd expect I would, but I'll be touching your face a lot, so is that okay?"

It was your turn to nod, Mel's fingers already hovering tentatively over your face. 

"Good, just making sure you'll be comfortable."

She picked up a crystal vial with one hand, unstoppering it with just two fingers while taking up a square of cloth in the other. As she tipped a bit of the liquid inside onto it, you questioned, "What's that? Some sort of anti-aging potion?"

Mel laughed, the sound like chimes in the wind. "No, I realize the flask would beg you to believe it's horribly fancy, but it's just spring water. Art always needs a clean canvas."

Thinking back to the festivals you used to attend as a child, you absentmindedly responded, "Oh, so it's quite literally face-painting."

She feigned a gasp, reeling back in her chair. "Don't insult me like that," she chided, though the smile never left her face. "Face-painting, the gall." 

You chuckled at her dramatics, enjoying how the warm fingers cupping one cheek contrasted the cool cloth that was pressed to the other. Mel thoroughly wiped your face before giving an affirmative hum, her hands moving to the canister nearest to her, a sturdy-looking circular container decorated with a pale blue design.

Mel opened it to reveal a glossy substance, almost ointment-like. She immediately held it up to your face, surprising you, before instructing, "Inhale."

You instinctively followed her orders, rewarded with a sharp but pleasant smell. 

"What's that?"

"It's what we're going to use as your base, darling. I believe it's especially imported from Bilgewater. They know moisture best, after all. Prepare yourself as it's a tad sticky, but that's all the more helpful with adhering to the next few layers of cosmetics."

The substance was indeed a bit tacky, but you felt it had the same enjoyable cooling factor as the water. Mel rubbed it delicately into your skin, saying, "How's business been? I expected you to be in your forge when I arrived."

"That's only because I decided to pause working for Progress Day. I'm glad I chose to do so, I've already told you about how goldworking isn't exactly enjoyable for me. I still miss bigger tools and weapons, so this break is good, even if it's just for a day. Although, that does mean I'll be behind for some orders," you sighed as she tipped her head at you sympathetically. "Business in general has been more than decent, though. I was even told by a recent customer that you had referred them to me, so thank you for that."

Mel raised an eyebrow, quickly wiping her fingers on the cloth she had first used before picking up another tin, this time much smaller. It contained a more creamy-looking substance which she studied for a moment. "Shoola? I'm surprised she's been genuinely listening to our conversations, though I suppose that she already wears half the gold in your studio around her neck."

You laughed for a moment before she waved the box in front of you, continuing, "You're lucky I have a cream exactly your shade, it was shipped to me by mistake ages ago." 

She quickly collected it with a large brush, the hairs of it almost ticklish against your faste.

"Perfect," Mel breathed, already reaching for another canister. "The next few steps will be easy, I'm quite familiar with your face shape."

Tins of cream and powder flew beneath your nose before she finally paused, tapping a slender finger to her lips. 

"I admit I'm unsure of what to do with your eyes. I have this pigment straight from Noxus which was actually given to me by my mother." She scowled for a moment before resuming, "I may not typically trust her judgement, but any cosmetic import from Noxus is bound to be more than satisfactory. However, I usually only add a touch of purple under my own eyes, so I haven't exactly been exercising my creativity." 

You studied what she held before you, a flat tin with powder packed neatly into square indents, their colors so vivid that you'd swear you could see them behind your eyelids after shutting them; the intensity made it seem they would permanently stain your face. As expected, the purple square was much more worn down, a few stray flecks of powder dotting its neighboring colors.

Your gaze flicked up to Mel's just in time to see her expression light up, no doubt a silent epiphany blooming.

"If I line your lips in a deep blue with a gold-tinted gloss, we can keep the Piltoverian theme and match your outfit perfectly by using a much more neutral color on your eyes, like this chocolate and dark brown."

You agreed, slightly confused but trusting in her judgement. The two of you chatted excitedly as she continued working, the anticipation of the holiday settling in. Time passed rapidly, each layer of cosmetics bringing new conversation.

"Have you seen Jayce recently?"

"Yes, though he's mostly been with his partner. I think they're even showing Heimerdinger something right at this moment."

"How do you tell all these products apart, each container's pattern is so intricate they start to look identical if I stare long enough."

"To be honest, I'm still learning. Part of me is afraid I'll apply the wrong one."

"It must take effort spending time on this every morning, not to mention wearing it for the whole day. I have to say I admire you, it feels heavy on me already..."

Eventually, Mel's hands left your face as she leaned back in her chair, nodding satisfactorily. 

"All done?" you asked, not daring to turn towards your reflection.

"My dear," she said, pausing for dramatic effect. "You were gorgeous before even without me, but with, you're simply perfect."

You didn't expect to agree with her, but the reflection that greeted you proved you wrong. The makeup accentuated features that you didn't even know you had, and you were practically glowing - you couldn't help but think that you had never felt more ready for Progress Day.

"Satisfied?" Mel asked, her voice filled with obvious glee.

"You're a magician." You barely got the words out before she clasped her hands together and sighed contentedly, making you even more happy about the situation. 

Maybe you did like working with gold. 

#arcane x reader #arcane fic #arcane fanfic #arcane league of legends #arcane reader insert #arcane x you #mel medarda #mel medarda x reader #mel medarda x you #platonic #one shot #arcane #arcane netflix #x reader #reader insert #mel #arcane mel

[everafterfics]

Your World or Mine [Part 5] [Viktor x Reader]

I hope you enjoy the final part! It was fun to write, but I don’t know if I’ll be doing any more multipart fics for awhile. I have a terrible time remembering what I’ve written and it makes it hard to make sure I’m keeping things consistent. Well, happy reading!

Synopsis: You get accidentally teleported to Piltover from Earth. The Hextech scientists try their best to get you back home.

Warnings: None

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

You had told your family what had happened to you, leaving out any of your feelings for a certain scientist of course, and they shockingly believed you. But it had been two months since then and they were beginning to wonder when you were going to get your life back on track. The problem was you didn’t want to go back to your old life. And how could you tell your family what you really wanted. They wouldn’t understand.

If you had been given a choice you would have stayed in Piltover. You would have confessed your feelings for Viktor, and if he had reciprocated them like you had the sneaking suspicion he would, you would have gladly made a life with him. And even if he didn’t feel the same, you would have been content just being his friend and starting your own life there. Still, after all this time you hope that it wasn’t too late to tell him how you really felt.

While Viktor was doing alright when you left, you knew that his illness was fatal and had no idea how long he truly had left. Over the past months you had thought many times of how Earths technology may be able help him. The first time that thought crossed your mind it was enough to almost make you open a portal then and there. But Viktor had asked you to wait, and wait you did. Every moment of waiting was excruciating not just to your heart but also your mind. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about your friends, that city, the magic Runeterra held, everything that was so much more exciting than Earth. You’d spent the past couple of weeks just staring at the pictures you took in Piltover. Rewatching the videos just you hear your friends voices, to hear his voice. What did he want to tell you that night you ran away? Would you ever get the chance to know? Absence makes the heart grow stronger they say, and to you that was most certainly true.

Finally you could wait no longer. “Another week.” you told yourself. “Just one more week and then I am going back!” Your decision was resolute. You’d get your affairs in order on Earth, bid goodbye to your friends and family with a promise to visit, but then you’d leave to start a new life in Piltover.

Your family wasn’t happy with your decision, but you didn’t care. It was your life after all. So when the week came and went you dawned the clothes you had worn on your return trip from Piltover and prepared to leave. You grabbed the portal gun from its hiding spot in your closet and placed the Hexgem in it. The runes carved into the metal began to glow a bright blue. With a deep breath of courage you pulled the trigger on the small gun and a portal opened in front of you. You eagerly ran through it, ready to embrace Viktor on the other side, but where you exited was far from what you expected.

You had run into an alley, the air was thick and a green haze covered the area. You coughed as your lungs adjusted to whatever substance filled the air. You definitely weren’t in Piltover. ‘Is this the Undercity?’ You thought to yourself.

“Hey Pilty, you on the wrong side of town?” A male voice rang out behind you, it was rough and definitely not one that you recognized. You turned around to be met with a large man, covered with tattoos and scars. Your heart pounded in terror at the sight of him. “Well?” The large man approached you. 

“S-sorry. I don’t-“ you stammered and tightened your grip around the portal gun. 

“Sorry!” He mocked you in a high pitched voice before dropping back into his normal register. “Sorry don’t cut it round here.” He grabbed your wrist and pulled you close, taking the portal gun from you. You could smell the alcohol on his breath as he spoke. “Saw you come out of that portal missy. What can you offer me so I don’t take this little gun off your hands?”

Tears welled in the corner of your eyes. “I- I don’t have any money.”

He looked you up and down before leaning in close to your face. “There are other ways to pay.” With his free hand he pulled you in by the waist.

“Please…Don’t do this!” You begged

“You think begging will do anything.” He laughed. “Boys!” He shouted and several other men came out of the shadows. “I think our little guest here needs to loosen up a bit.” He pushed you towards his goons and smiled, showing his crooked teeth. They grabbed you from behind and you let out a shout. 

You tried to scream more as they forced a mask over your face. It released some sort of pink substance into your lungs. You attempted to struggle against them and free yourself, but your body started to weaken. You could feel your mind going numb. Once you stopped fighting, the men released you and took the mask off. You found it hard to think and a calm wave spread over you. Whatever was in your system made you feel buzzed, almost like being drunk.

“Now girlie,” the large leader approached you again. He stroked your cheek with his rough hand. “What can you do to pay me?”

Your eyes focused on something behind him and you giggled. “There’s a robot guy behind you.”

“What?” His voice held a hint of aggravation alongside his general confusion. He turned around just in time for the metal man to punch him square in the jaw.

“It’s the Machine Herald!” One of the goons yelled. He comically grabbed his friend by the shirt and continued to shout. “I knew it was a bad idea to come to Emberflit Alley!”

“Let’s get out of here!” His friend shouted back. He and the gang took off, dragging their now unconscious leader with them.

You laughed at their reactions and stumbled backwards in a drunken state. You found yourself falling into the metal chest of the man who just saved you. “Thanks Mr. Robotman.” You giggled and gave his chest a few pats.

He grabbed your shoulders and held you at arms length. You spotted the third hand sticking out of his shoulder and it gave you an idea. You held up your own hand and giddily shouted, “High five!”

“What are you doing?” An accented voice asked.

“It’s like this.” You took one of his hands and lightly tapped it against your own. “A high five! For a good job!” 

His hand lightly grabbed your wrist and gently lowered it to your side. “No, what are you doing here?” 

You looked up at him with a dumb smile plastered onto your face. “Looking for my friend.” You suddenly gasped loudly and it caused the machine herald to take a step back. “Have you seen him Mr. Robot? His names Viktor. He has soft brown hair, pretty gold eyes, and the handsomest face I’ve ever seen!” You leaned into the metal man, your forehead touching his chest, and continue to spill your guts without a care in the world. “When I left he was real sick. He could be hurt down here! And I need to find him cause if he’s hurt I don’t know what I’ll do.” You look up to the masked man with big doe eyes. “Ya see, I love him Mr. Robot and I didn’t get to tell him before I left”

His hands hovered over your shoulders for a moment and the eyes on his mask widened with your words. He suddenly scooped you into his arms. 

“Hey! Put me down! I need to find Viktor!” You yelled and lightly pounded on his chest. He looked at you inquisitively.

“Stop that.” He said. It only took about a minute of hassling him to put you down before you tired yourself out and gave up. Once you were still, the Machine Herald turned and walked to the wrought iron gates in front of the house he had come out of. 

“Where are we going?” You asked, seemingly forgetting your task to find Viktor.

“Home.” He said as he pushed open the gates with his third arm. They slammed behind the two of you, causing a small yelp to come out of your throat at the sound. “Sorry.” The metal man murmured. You stayed silent after that as you were taken up the steps to the front door, which had been left open. 

“Father unit, did you get rid of the distraction?” A large yellow robot said when you both crossed the threshold into what looked more like a laboratory than a living room. You let out another yelp and buried your head into the Machine Heralds chest.  The yellow robot cocked its head to the side “Who is this?” They asked.

The metal man held you closer to him. “Don’t be afraid, this is Blitzcrank. He won’t hurt you.” You peeked your head out to look at the large robot. “This is Y/N.” You couldn’t recall ever giving this stranger your name, but decided to pay the thought no mind. 

Blitzcrank held out a large hand to you. “Hello miss Y/N.”

You gingerly took their hand and gave it a small shake. “Hi” you quietly responded.

“She was drugged with a gaseous version of Shimmer.” The metal man explained to Blitzcrank as he walked past them and took you upstairs. “I am going to have her rest. Get her a glass of water.”

You felt yourself nodding off in his arms with every step he took up the stairs. Your eyes could barely stay open by the time you had reached the top. 

The curtains on the window were pulled tightly closed in the room you entered, enveloping it in darkness. With a flick of a light switch on the wall an overhead light began to dimly glow. You were brought over to the bed in the middle of the room. The metal man tried to put you down but you kept your arms around his neck, pulling him down with you. “I need to find Viktor.” You groggily said.

“Please let go of me.” He whispered.

Your arms raised higher until they allowed access to his hair. Running your fingers through his brown locks you hooked your hands around what turned out to be the back of his mask. You gently pulled it off of his head and held the mask in your hands. When you looked up you saw him. The sharp cheekbones on his slender face now accentuated with metal, the beauty marks just below one eye and above his soft lips, and his glowing golden eyes… they were still same golden eyes that held your attention whenever he had looked at you in the past. Your eyes widened and a large grin spread on your lips. “I found you!” You laughed and leaned up to try and hug him. He took your shoulders and pushed you back into the bed.

He took his mask back from you and placed it in the nightstand beside the bed. You kept fidgeting and trying to get up, but Viktor took the blankets from the bed and placed them on top of you. He forced you to lay down once more and stroked your head with his metal hand. “Sleep Y/N.”

“No! I have to tell you something!” You whined and reached out for him when he grabbed his mask.

“You can tell me when your head is clear.” He walked towards the door. 

“No!” You whined again. “Viktor! Please!” Viktor turned off the light and continued outside of the room. “I love you!” You shouted as he closed the door behind him. 

Viktor was glad that he wasn’t in the room because his face turned completely red at your confession. You may have been drugged but those feeling still seemed pretty genuine to him. 

“Is something wrong father?” Blitzcranks voice cut through Viktors thoughts. “Your face is all red.”

Viktor cleared his throat. “I am fine.” He glanced at Blitzcranks giant fist delicately holding a glass of water. “Place it at her bedside. She’ll want it when she wakes up.” 

**************************

You woke up with a throbbing headache and only vague memories of what had happened. Going through the portal and finding yourself in the Undercity, you were attacked and drugged… you vaguely remember someone saving you… then it went black. You groaned and leaned up. That’s when you saw it, two glowing eyes staring back at you. You shouted and the lights of the room clicked on.

“I’m sorry miss Y/N, I did not mean to scare you. Father asked that I watch over you.” The large robot said.

You pulled the blankets tightly in front of you as if they would shield you from any harm. “Who are you?” Your voice was scratchy and your throat was dry.

“You don’t remember? I am Blitzcrank.” The yellow robot slowly walked towards you. They extended a hand for you to shake. 

“Right.” You shook the hand tentatively.

“I brought you water.” They gestured to the glass on the side table.

You slowly took it and awkwardly took a sip while Blitzcrank stared at you. “So who is this “father” that you mentioned?” Your mind was still hazy thanks to the Shimmer, but you felt like whoever he was might be the man that saved you.

“The people of Zaun call him the Machine Herald.”

“And you call him?”

“Father Unit.”

“No, I mean his name.” You laughed

“It’s Viktor.” His voice rang out from the doorway. “But you already know that.” He nodded at Blitzcrank, who took the motion as an order to leave the room. You stared at Viktor as he approached the bed. He was so different, yet was the same man you knew. “How are you feeling?” 

Your headache had faded and now all that remained were questions. “I-I’m fine. But I just, I have so many questions. What happened while I was gone? Why are you back in the Undercity? And you- you look so different…”

Viktor turned his gaze from you. “I am aware that I may no longer be pleasant to look at.”

“No! Viktor! You look sick!” You spoke with excitement but Viktor turned to you with an extremely concerned look. “Sorry, wrong choice of slang. I meant it like, you look awesome, cool… rad?” You listed off several synonyms to hopefully clear up his confusion.

Viktor smiled, for the first time in awhile. “Then my new appearance does not change your feelings of me?” 

“My feelings?” You had conveniently forgotten confessing your love several times during your drugged state.

“Yes?” Viktor was confused “Do you not recall?”

“Recall what exactly?” You laughed nervously.

Viktor cleared his throat and glanced anywhere but directly at you. “You said you loved me.” 

Your face lit up bright red and your heart began to pound. “I did what?!” You groaned and pulled the blanket up over yourself in embarrassment.

Viktor looked at you with sad eyes, something that did not particularly suit his robotic body. “You did not mean it?”

You waited so long to answer that Viktor assumed the worst, but when you heard the floorboard creak with one of his steps towards the door you piped up from under the blanket. “I did mean it.” Your voice was quiet, but Viktor still heard you. You felt him sit on the edge of the bed, but you dared not remove the blanket from your face. “I didn’t want to tell you like that. I kinda would’ve liked to remember it.”

Viktor hummed in response. “Perhaps you could tell me now then? If you’d like to come out from under the blanket.”

You peeked your head out and looked up at him with large doe-like eyes. Viktors heart practically melted to see you like that, it made him glad that he did not replace that part of himself after all. “Viktor…” Your heart was pounding so hard that you thought Viktor could hear it from where he sat.

“Yes?” He leaned his face closer to yours.

“I love you.” you whispered the words.

He cupped your face with his hands. The cold metal made you flinch. “Sorry.” he whispered, leaning ever closer, you could feel his breath on your face. He closed the gap between you and his lips met yours for a short kiss. “I love you too.” He replied when you pulled apart. You were so giddy that you couldn’t stop smiling, neither of you could. “Did you really risk coming here to tell me? Not that I am not extremely grateful, but it was awfully dangerous”

“I didn’t know I’d end up in the Undercity!” You defended yourself with a laugh. “I just, ugh, I’ve felt this way for so long but couldn’t bring myself to say anything. Then I went home, and I felt so bad that I missed the chance. I waited like your note asked me to, but I couldn’t stand waiting any longer!” You looked at him with compassion as you continued to sputter out your feelings. “I came to find you, not only to confess my feelings, but also because I was hoping that I could help you. Maybe find a way to save you from your illness.” You let your eyes trail over his form, completely enhanced by metal. There was not a hint of his previous condition present. “Clearly you don’t need my help for that though.” you muttered.

Viktor lightly chuckled at your comment. “What were you planning to do to help me?”

You ran your hands through your hair and let them fall back into your lap as you deeply sighed. “I’m not really sure. I was hoping if you came back to my world then maybe our medical science could help you.”

“That seems like it would have been a good plan.”

You leaned into Viktors side. “What happened Viktor? Why are you living down here? Not that there’s anything wrong with being in the Undercity. I just sort of expected the Hextech lab when I came through the portal” 

His eyes turned downcast at the thought. “The Hexcore happened. It started to change me. And after an attack on the council, during a meeting I was unfortunately present at, it was the only thing that could save my life. Unfortunately it came with a price that Jayce did not approve of.”

“So you left because of Jayce?”

“It was a pretty bad argument. Don’t hold it against him though. We just have different views it would seem.”

“Sometimes that happens with friends, you just drift apart.” You sighed and smiled at Viktor, taking his hand in your own. Your eyes trailed along his hand, examining it. “So… how much of this is armor and how much is your real body now?”

“It is a pretty even mix of both. I have been augmenting my body to be as efficient as possible.” He placed his free hand on the one you were holding. “My hands are just armor.” You removed your grip on him and allowed him to remove the gauntlet from his hands. Underneath they were purple, resembling the muscles and tendons that would be under the skin. You took his hands back in yours to examine them. Although they looked organic his hands felt like metal. 

“This is what the Hexcore did to you?” You asked.

“Yes.” He watched your curious eyes as they examined his hands and he smiled at the feeling of your touch. It had been far too long since he’d had any contact with another human being.

“And you can still feel beneath all that metal?” Your eyes never trailed from his hands. In fact they followed your own hands tracing gentle touches over Viktors.

“I can feel your touch, yes.” His eyes flicked away for a moment and you felt him tense up. 

Your eyes looked towards his face. It looked like he was in pain. “What’s wrong?”

“Before you came back… I debated getting rid of my emotions all together. It would have provided me a clearer outlook and more focused mind.” He didn’t want to see how you reacted to his confession. He heard you mutter his name with concern. “I am glad I decided against it.” He stood up from the bed and walked towards the door. “Meet me downstairs when you’re ready. I will make us something to eat.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond, still processing your conversation. You collected your thoughts and pulled the blanket off of you. Standing up was rough as it seemed your legs were still a bit wobbly from the Shimmer. It took a minute to steady yourself, but you grabbed the armor that Viktor had left on the bedside table and proceeded to the door.

Walking down the stairs was an even more daunting task. You gripped the railing hard and took the steps very slowly. Once at the bottom you did your best to muster up an air of confidence before you entered what looked like the kitchen.

“You left this upstairs.” You said and tossed the gauntlet onto the table.

“Thank you.” Viktor didn’t look at you. He continued to cook, aided by the third arm he had now attached to his shoulder. It was shooting a small laser into the skillet to heat up whatever he was cooking.

“Did you have that on display in the lab? I feel like I remember seeing something like it in there.” You asked and leaned onto the counter next to Viktor.

“Yes, it is a version of what Jayce and I called the HexClaw.” His short answer left you feeling confused. Viktor was never the type to talk a lot, unless it was about his work, but it made you feel like he was trying to distance himself. Strange considering he just told you that he loved you too.

“You know I don’t think any less of you right?” Your eyes glanced towards the skillet and then up to Viktor. He stayed silent. “I am glad that you’re ok. And no matter what you look like, I’ll still love you.” The word love held a strange tingle on your tongue. You’d never thought that you’d be using it so freely, but it was nice. “And even if… even if you had decided to get rid of your emotions…” Viktor tensed up while he waited for your to finish your thought. “I would stand by you. And I would be happy just being here, at your side, supporting you.” He turned to look at you with wide eyes. They looked almost of the verge of tears. You gave him a soft smile, but then your face contorted when you smelled smoke. “Viktor!” You shouted when you looked at the skillet and saw the eggs he had been cooking begin to burn. He gave a small shout and tried to fix the problem before he could make it any worse.

So your meal ended up being a little burnt, but it was still delicious. “I apologize for burning your breakfast.” Viktor said after taking his last bite.

“Believe it or not, I’ve had worse.” You joked with him.

“I would also like to apologize for making things awkward earlier. It was not my intention.”

“It’s alright, these things happen. We got it all cleared up anyway.” You leaned back in the kitchen chair and crossed your arms over your chest. “So, you have a child now?”

Viktor practically spit out the sweet milk he was drinking. “You mean Blitzcrank? I designed them to help dispose of hazardous waste, but they have gained sentience of their own. I did not ask them to call me father, it just sort of happened.”

“How sweet.” You laughed. “Well they seem to be very well behaved. You raised them well.” Viktor could tell you were mocking him, but your words also held some sincerity to them.

“Yes, well in any case, there is something I think we need to discuss.” Viktors tone became serious.

“Oh? What is it?”

Viktor walked into the other room for a moment and came back with the portal gun. “We cannot ignore the fact that you are from another world.”

“Right… that…” your eyes trailed down to the table.

Viktor sat across from you and placed a hand on your own. “I love you Y/N. And as much as I would like you to stay and to be with you, there is a choice to be made.”

“I know…” you looked up at Viktor.

“I cannot promise that Runeterra is a safe world, but I can promise to protect you.” This time you did look at him.

“Viktor, I never wanted to leave in the first place. If not for the two of you telling me to go I would have made the choice to stay a long time ago.”

“So that means…”

“My choice is to stay here. With you.” You smiled warmly at him.

Slowly Viktors mouth spread into a wide grin. He stood up and crossed over to you. His metal hands cupped your cheeks and he leaned down to your level. He gave you a gentle kiss on your lips before taking you by the hands. “Come with me.”

Viktor led you into his lab and over to his desk. He pulled out a worn leather bound journal. “This was the journal I was using when you first arrived in Piltover.” He opened it to the middle of the book and to your surprise there laid the portrait you had drawn for him.

“You kept it?” You murmured.

“Of course! It has been my most prized possession since you gave it to me.” He looked a bit shocked that you’d even ask. “Y/N, do you want to know what I was going to tell you that night?”

“Actually that’s been on my mind for quite some time. But why not tell me when I asked before?”

“If I had told you before I was afraid you would have refused to leave. And I couldn’t bear to have you in danger” He placed the journal onto his desk and took one of your hands in his. “I wanted to tell you that I had fallen in love with you. That I didn’t want you to leave, as selfish as that was.”

You lightly chuckled at just how correct he was. “You’re right, I would’ve stayed if you had told me.” You looked up into his glowing golden eyes. “I honestly don’t know why I ran from you that night. Nerves I suppose. I’ve never really loved anyone before… let alone had that love reciprocated.”

Viktor brought his hands around you and pulled you into a tight embrace. He rested his chin against the top of your head. “You’ll never have to run from me again.” He placed a quick kiss on your head before whispering to you. “I love you, Y/N. And I always will”

#viktor x reader #viktor x y/n #viktor reader insert #arcane x reader #arcane reader insert #arcane fanfic #arcane viktor

[cheeriecherrymain]

viktor is a cat, no i do not take criticism

you're right and you should say it.

The Likeness Of Men And Cats [Oneshot] Pairing: Viktor x Reader Rating: T Proofread: no beta we die like men Synopsis: You acquire a cat for the first time, and make a startling connection between it and your best friend, Viktor. Of course, you now have to test your theory: is the man you're crushing on actually several cats in a trenchcoat?

You’ve worked with Viktor for years. Six years, in fact, if you started all the way back in your first year at the academy.

You hadn’t had much interest in him, then. He was just another face in the crowded classroom, just another hand that got raised whenever your professors asked a question. He was smart, sure, but no more than some of the other people in your peer group.

Only once you’d been assigned to a group project did you really start getting to know him - and his less than stellar reputation around campus.

Your friends had all given you their condolences when you’d told them who you’d be working with for the semester, each of them sprouting off some story or another about an interaction they’d had with this Viktor.

And the more you got to know him, the more you realized their stories were true.

He was blunt, and logical to a fault. He refused to take breaks, for either his or your sake - even when you’d been about to pass out from sleep deprivation, he’d merely sighed and told you to sleep, then, if you need it. He frustrated you to no end.

And the more you got to know him, the more you realized your friends’ tales were…wrong.

You had hardly wanted bad blood between you and the man you were supposed to be working with for the whole semester, so you’d stuck it out. You’d been friendly, made yourself approachable, listened to him when he spoke and tried to include him in conversations.

And eventually he opened up.

Shared little jokes with you, brought little snacks to your study sessions so you wouldn’t go hungry. He showed a profound sense of compassion, the deeper your chats got, and a truly spectacular desire to change the world for the better.

It only made sense that you’d fall in love with him. Stupidly, terribly in love.

Even now, years after you’d graduated and moved onto your own projects, you still got heart palpitations whenever you spent time with him. Which happened to be most days, what with your work coinciding so closely. You’re certain that one of these days, the persistent thrum in your chest is simply going to stop, and you’re going to perish.

All because of him, and his stupid handsome face, and his stupid beautiful brain.

And it’s not like you hadn’t tried to tell him how you felt! You’re not the kind of person to just stand there stewing in your feelings for years without trying to resolve them!

He was just…not interested. You dropped hint after hint after hint, suggesting you spend time together to catch up, or maybe go out to lunch, or even dinner. You’d flirted with him so openly that even Jayce was cringing from your efforts!

But he never reciprocated.

Jayce had tried to comfort you one evening, after a particularly rough afternoon of thirsting after your best friend. He probably just doesn’t realize you’re trying to uhh…woo him, he’d said, in a vain attempt at calming your roiling emotions.

Didn’t realize. Right.

You’d been heartbroken for so long after being rejected by Viktor, lost in thought and unable to effectively work. Making excuse after excuse as to why you were ‘out of sorts’ and ‘not feeling well’.

That is…until now.

Three weeks ago, you’d…come into the possession of a soft, fuzzy creature. Or she’d come into possession of you? 

Either way, you’d found a cat. Skinny, mottled black and white, covered in fleas - she’d woken you up in the middle of a fateful night, screaming haplessly from your balcony where she’d gotten stuck. The moment you opened the sliding door, she’d run inside and had since refused to leave.

It had been hectic in the first couple days, particularly when you were trying to get her into the bath to remove all the built up dirt and dust from her fur. But you’d gotten her settled eventually, and since then she’s become a staple in your everyday routine.

It had taken you a while to really notice the patterns in her behavior, and to connect the dots.

Your cat behaved an awful lot like Viktor.

Rather, Viktor behaved an awful lot like a cat.

Bringing you little gifts for no apparent reason, typically in the form of snacks or trinkets. Preferring to sit in the same place as you and work separately, as opposed to actively engaging in conversation. Only showing you his softer side once he knew he could trust you. Even the few times he touched you, he did so in the most unusual way you’d ever seen - running a hand down your arm, or your back.

Not unlike a cat brushing up against its companion.

Looking back, knowing what you know now, you feel…stupid. For disregarding the man you loved so easily, for not clueing into his way of expressing love.

Because of course he loved you!

…probably.

Maybe.

…you need to test your theory.

—

The next day is when you begin Phase One of your plan.

You spent the entire night working on a detailed month-long set of experiments, subtle enough that Viktor wouldn’t think your actions were too weird or out of the blue. In the event that you were wrong in your hypothesis, you would be able to chalk your behaviour up to…

…to…

…wanting to switch things up a bit?

So, truthfully, you hadn’t really thought much about it at all. You’d actually fallen asleep with your face smashed into your desk around ten in the evening, and by the time your alarm had started blaring, you had to scramble to make sense of what little you’d scribbled down.

“Good afternoon, my brilliant men of science!” you cheer, skipping into the lab in your typical loud fashion, your arms full with a large cardboard box that had steam wafting from between its creases.

Viktor hums a quiet greeting from across the room, barely paying you any mind as he continues to focus on his current project.

Jayce, on the other hand, looks over the moment you set foot in the room, making a beeline towards you when he sees you struggling with your parcel.

“What’s in the box?” he wonders, watching over your shoulder as you set it out on one of the free desks, and begin to unfold the flaps.

“Lunch!” you reply, finally revealing a bunch of smaller boxes packed tightly within. “I know you two don’t always have time to run out to grab something to eat, so I thought I’d do it for you. It’s important to keep your energy up when you’re using your brains so much.”

Jayce wastes no time in helping you unpack everything you’d brought, opening up each little package to discover the treasures that lay inside. It’s mostly foods that you know Viktor likes - a couple of baked goods, some potato dumplings, a thermos of root stew, some little swirly breads. 

In no time, he’s fixed himself a plate and gone back to his own workplace, leaving you to stand alone by the feast.

Looking at Viktor.

Who was looking at you.

Looking at you with the most suspicion you’ve ever seen him wear, with his eyes narrowed in thought and his shoulders held tight and square.

“Why?” he asks, glancing between you and the food.

“What do you mean, why?”

His brows pull together slightly, adding to the absolute absurdity of his expression.

“What’s the catch?” he reiterates, finally rising from his seat to slink towards you. “You never bring us lunch. Ever. What’s the occasion?”

You shrug nonchalantly.

“Why would I need a reason to be nice?” you ask. You supposed you could just tell him what you were up to - you doubt he’d be upset with you if you did. He’d probably just be curious about your theory.

The only issue was that if he knew, it might skew your data. If he knew what you were looking for, he might try to react in a way that he thought you’d like - or in a way that would purposefully fuck with you.

No, it would be better if you didn’t tell him. At least not yet.

“V, I’m all for asking questions, but please stop trying to dissect a good thing?” Jayce pleads from the other side of the room, casting over his best impression of a kicked puppy.

You’re pretty sure he knows what you’re up to.

Viktor, in any case, appears to be momentarily placated by your explanation, poor as it was. You know that he’s going to wonder about it eventually, but for now you’ve got time. You’ve got time to sit and eat lunch with your two best friends, and hopefully think up some better excuses.

—

You continue bringing the two of them lunch for the next week. Jayce remains completely unbothered by the situation, and even offers to help once you tell him what your master plan is.

He knows how down bad you are for your friend, and you’re certain that he’s fully sick of listening to you lament about how pretty he is and how badly your heart aches.

Viktor hasn’t mentioned anything since the first day of your new routine, either, but you can tell he’s just as suspicious as he was at the start. His gaze is always sharp when you clatter into the room with another box of food, watching intently while you unpack, remaining trained on you while he makes his way over to hesitantly scoop some up for himself.

Almost like he’s waiting for some kind of reaction out of you.

But you give him nothing, no hints as to what your plan is. You wait patiently while he fixes himself a plate, asking him how his day has been or perhaps about what he’s working on, smiling softly all the while.

It’s exactly one week to the day when you burst into the lab again, followed closely by your loud and raucous announcement of your presence, only to be met with silence.

“I’m afraid Jayce isn’t here today,” Viktor sighs from behind a stack of notebooks, not even bothering to turn his attention away from the formulas he’s copying down.

You, however, are undeterred, continuing your trail into the room, over to your usual table where you are about to begin Phase Two of testing your theory.

“I know,” you reply, setting your things down. “He said he had a thing with Mel today - and a busy week, too.”

You can see from the corner of your eye as your friend finally turns away from his work.

“You knew he wouldn’t be here?” he wonders, utterly perplexed. When you hum your confirmation, he continues, “Then why did you bother coming?”

That alone is enough to give you pause, glancing towards him in confusion.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you ask.

You stare at each other for a couple of seconds, before he shrugs and makes a noncommittal grumble, turning back to his papers.

He…thought you wouldn’t come? If it was just him, he thought…you wouldn’t even bother showing up. As if he wasn’t your best friend, and the love of your life, and the brightest part of your day? Like he couldn’t possibly be the reason for your kindness?

Your heart clenches.

In silence, you fix him a plate of the little foods you know he’ll like; you’d gone out of your way to pick out a couple of his favourites today, having suspected that he might be difficult to persuade without Jayce nearby to bully him into eating.

“Here,” you tell him, softly, setting the plate on the desk beside him. You set your hand on his shoulder for a brief moment, letting your fingertips wander down his arm, and then turn away to head back to your own work.

Knowing Viktor, he’d prefer the silence over active conversation. It was easier for him when the other half of HexTech was around to act as a buffer and keep your endless desire to talk entertained. But today, when it’s just the two of you? You know you’ve overstepped your bounds in the past, pushing him into a state of discomfort with your constant chattering.

But not today.

Today, you’ve brought your own work with you, fully intent on sitting quietly with your best friend while you both eat your meals. You had the entire hour to catch up on grading your students’ tests - grades they’d been hassling you about for a while now.

It’s a little bit uncomfortable at first, to not talk while you know he’s nearby. There are things from your day that you want to share with him - something funny that one of your first-years said to you, the gossip you’ve heard about other faculty members.

But you resist.

Viktor, on the other hand, only makes it about ten minutes.

All at once, the incessant scribbling of his pen stops, followed by a deep sigh, and the quiet clatter of the utensil being set down. A creak in his chair, as he turns towards you.

“Have I done something to offend you?” he inquires, bluntly, as usual.

You glance up from your pile of papers with wide eyes, surprised by the suddenness of his question.

“No?” you reply, “Why would you think that?”

He sighs again, his gaze wandering away from yours and down to the floor. He looks hesitant, the same sort of hesitant that he’d been when taking the food you offered to him: like he was waiting for something to happen. 

Like he was waiting for you to…to announce that you were playing some kind of absurd prank-

Oh.

“You’ve hardly said a word to me today,” he mumbles, crossing his arms on the back of his chair so he can rest his head between them.

“But…you like the quiet?” you reply, far more meek than you’d intended to be. Had he been taking your entire experiment as some kind of mean joke on him? Had he already known that he was reminiscent of a cat? Did he think you were making fun of him for it?

“Yes!” he retorts quickly, running a hand through his already-mussed hair. “But you’re always talking! To me, to Jayce - about your students, or some shitty scholarly article you read! You’ve been acting strange for the entire week. First the food, and now this - are you okay? Are you-”

“Viktor, breathe!” you squeak.

The moment you see the worry in his eyes, you jump to your feet and make your way over to him. Taking his face in your heads, despite your better judgment or regard to the rules of your plan. Stroking your thumbs slowly over the curve of his cheeks, holding him close while he forced himself to relax and slow his breathing.

You’ve never seen him so outwardly worried about you.

“Look,” you murmur, “I just…I care about you. A lot. And I feel like sometimes I…do a pretty shitty job of showing it.”

Slowly, you let your hands slide down to rest atop his shoulders.

“I’m always after you to take better care of yourself, but I never actually do anything to help. And - and I always push conversations on you, even though I know you’d rather work on your own projects.”

With a dejected sigh, you remove your hands from him completely, “Even now. My first instinct when trying to comfort you is to touch you, even though I know you don’t really like it.”

Idly, you fiddle with the edges of your sleeves.

“I just want to make you happy, but…I know I can be annoying, sometimes. I’m sorry.”

The air is thick between the two of you after that. You can’t for the life of you figure out what else you should say, if anything - you can’t even bring yourself to look him in the eye. Instead, you turn on your heel and wobble back to your seat, trying your hardest to keep the hot sting of tears from reaching your eyes.

You feel like an idiot.

Your entire plan was stupid, and your theory was stupid, and wanting to test it? Stupid!

So caught up in your own thoughts, you don’t even notice the sound of a chair being dragged across the room, over to where you sit. Only when Viktor shoves it right up beside you and plops down nearly in your lap do you jostle out of your own head.

Staring up at him with wide eyes.

“You think you’re annoying?” he asks, nearly incredulous. “I never have anything to contribute to your conversations - never have any stories or adventures of my own to share. You have to carry all our interactions! And you…think you’re annoying?”

You scoff softly. “I mean, most of my other colleagues tolerate me, and only barely. Do you know how many break room conversations I’ve accidentally overheard about me?”

He grumbles a bit, letting his head roll sideways to carefully knock against the curve of your shoulder. 

“This isn’t about them,” he insists. “You’re not annoying. I enjoy listening to you talk - you always have interesting perspectives on subjects that I rarely consider.”

He tilts his face up, then, staring up at you from mere inches away with a sort of intensity that makes your cheeks nearly catch fire.

“And I also like it when you remind me to take a break. You know how I am about keeping track of time - if there isn’t an alarm, I’ll sit and work until I pass out.”

Slowly, oh so slowly, you lean towards him. Gently, tenderly, with an affection that makes your chest ache - you bonk your forehead against his, the barest of touches, but the most intimate you’ve ever been with him.

And all at once, his face lights up into a bright, rosy hue.

Much like how you had connected the dots a week ago, all the pieces fall into place in his mind. One by one, clicking together to form an entire beautiful picture: a story of your friendship, finally understanding.

“You…” he begins, trailing off as he tilts his head up by a fraction, drawing you into a kiss you’ve both been waiting years for.

#viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #arcane x reader #viktor fluff #arcane fluff #viktor reader insert #see mom i cant possibly in a depressive episode i wrote THIS #arcane reader insert

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Vi, Jinx And Ekko x Reader Flustering Them

What makes them flustered? What action or words make their heart race by us? Is it a tiny simple action or something huge?- requested by RaineRin13 on Wattpad

VI 

Vi doesn’t get flustered a lot

By actions or works, really, she isn’t even used to being dependent on someone else

So for her to get flustered by something you said or did is a very big accomplishment

I have no idea but I feel like if you helped her with her bandages

She’d like that??

Like she has been in a lot of fights, it’s not a secret

So it's practically undeniable that she has scars on her knuckles 

And on her face

I feel like if you ran your fingers across them, like stroking the scars

She’d love it

It just feels so nice

Especially when you do it without even knowing

Her heart goes boom

She won’t say it does but the blush and red on her face says it all

She isn’t really all about bit gestures or big things

If you keep it small and meaningful she’ll love it

Also she likes when you run your hands through her hair, one of the ways to make her all happy inside

Heart in her ears I’m telling you

Also if you tell her like “I love you” or worry about her in any way

She can’t deny that she loves it

She likes being cared for even if she denies it

JINX

There's not a lot of ways to make Jinx truly flustered or blushy

She usually shake it off or flirts back

But she loves when you flirt back or get sassy

Or when you throw flirty comments at her when she doesn’t have time to process

Watch her slowly let it sink in before curling into herself with giggling

Like a lovesick teenager

Which she very much so is

Jinx mainly likes making YOU flustered

She made it a goal to try not to be flustered by you to see what would happen if she eventually did get flustered and she loves it when she did

I don’t know why but I feel like if you guys get very very serious, she may, MAY, focus on the may, call her Powder

If you knew her before it all

But only reserved for you

Like anyone else?

No

But you? 

Yes

One way to get her heart to race is just by being there with her mainly

Or goofing off with her

Or mainly just helping her with stuff

Like when she has a moment or when she’s making gadgets and shows them to you and you just help her with it

She loves those moments with everything she has

Jinx loves big gestures

Especially if they involve explosions

One very big way to get her heart to race also is if you help her when she is very vulnerable

Or when you tell the voices to fuck off

Like “What’s wrong, Blue?”

“They won’t go away!”

“Who?”

“...Mylo, and sometimes, Claggor…”

“Tell them to fuck off before I beat Mylo’s ass like I did when we were kids. Does he not remember when I kicked him into the gutter?”

She loves it man

Always happy to be with you when they’re bickering at her

She gets sorta flustered when coming to you and you know what’s wrong so you tell them to fuck off and just sit with her

She loves when you try and get her mind off things also

Making gadgets or whatever

She just likes being with you

EKKO

I feel like a way to get his flustered is if you knew him before, calling him Little Man again

He didn’t have anyone else after the explosion that knew about who he was or what he was like before

So he liked having you and you calling him the Little Man nickname again all over

It reminds him of happier times

Also by helping out with the firelights, that gets his heart blushy

ESPECIALLY

When you like plan out a mission or order people around for a mission 

He just feels so lucky and secretly blushes in a corner

A small action he also loves, like Jinx, is when you help him with his gadgets and inventing shit

He doesn’t care what it is you’re making

As long as he gets to stare at you while you do it

And if he gets something wrong and if you correct him

He doesn’t get mad, get gets flustered and happy you caught it

If you also catch him staring at you while you fix the gadget yeah, he’s blushing

Also one action is giving him small things or smooth talking

He’s not a really big flirter is all I’m gonna say

He has no game so he’s surprised when he was able to get with you

He’s grateful that he did

Don’t get me wrong

But just being with you gets him all flustered a bit

Also defending him

Don’t get me started

#arcane x reader #arcane imagines #arcane headcanon #arcane x you #vi arcane x reader #arcane x y/n #vi x reader #arcane ekko x reader #ekko x reader #ekko x y/n #ekko x you #jinx x gender neutral reader #jinx x y/n #arcane jinx #jinx arcane #jinx x reader #vi arcane #ekko arcane #arcane reader #arcane reader insert #reader insert

[uraveragelonelyhuman]

Found Family

Sevika was a well known woman in the Undercity

She was Silco's right hand man after all

So it was a shocker when she took in a seventeen year old kid under her wing

Not Jinx

You

But it didn't happen naturally or instantly

It took a while just for her to get used to you

You had been hired by Silco, you were smart as hell and knew how to fight

You were known a bit too, had a name for you and you spit attitude back at Silco

That's what caught his attention towards you, with your gadgetry he also took notice of

So he hired you

You were close with Jinx too, bothered the old man together

You were put on Sevika's team, mainly to help with your gadgets against the firelights

Sevika didn't particularly like you

But she didn't hate you, kinda neutral about you

After a while when she was used to you, she took a small liking to you

You had a big mouth, liked talking back and would bicker with her on a basis

You reminded her of her younger sister

But you weren't that close, until she found you one day scruffed up

You had gotten into a fight, got hurt pretty bad from it

Sevika spent a lot of time with you, you hung around with lots of adults and acted as one yourself

She often forgot you were just a kid

Who was a victim of the burden of being born in the Undercity

So when she found you, sitting on a crate trying to disinfect and bandage a pretty bad wound from your fight, she helped you

She took the small bottle of disinfect and the bandage and helped you

She was silent the whole time

But you appreciated it, thanking her in a small voice after she helped you

She then held her hand out to you, which you took

Before she was Sevika, the right hand man to Silco, at the top of the food chain with a well known name

What a lot of people didn't know was this

Before she was all that, she was just Sevika

A daughter to a single father in the Undercity, who was picked on and name called by idiots when young

She had anger issues, stole to survive a lot which got her in her fair amount of trouble

She got into fights, usually winning but ended up losing some too

Who had a little sister who was taken too soon from her by idiot, drunk Piltover citizens with names to protect them

You reminded her of who she used to be, and what she lost

And she pitied that

So she took you in, saying "Stick with me kid, learn a thing or two"

And you did

She helped you with your fighting, helping train you

She eventually unofficially moved you into her place

The Undercity was rough but living alone as a sixteen year old in the Undercity was harder

Your lives were then filled with missions, together on a daily basis

Breakfast in the morning

Her ruffling your hair as a way to say she was proud of you

Her small, short hugs

And your bickering with her to which she found amusement in

Photos of you both lined your home now

Whenever you had a problem with someone she took care of it

You never had to ask for it

She just did it

And you found it funny a lot when the one you had a problem with came to you and basically begged for you to tell your mom to leave them alone

"Your mom"

You never thought of it that way

Never did she

But you liked the idea of her as your mother

The first time she ever actually called you her kid was when a goon on her team was giving you a hard time

They were in your face, yelling at you about how you were just as stupid kid who didn't know anything

Just because you made a small mix up on a mission

It reminded you of your birth parents

How small you felt when being yelled at

That's when Sevika walked into the bar and saw what was going on, your face was to the floor focused on your shoes

The goon was yelling at you, and at one point harshly poked the side of your head

You looked up, making eye contact with Sevika and she saw your small tears

She was instantly angered

Storming over quickly and pushing the guy away from you, putting herself in between you both

She got in his face, saying "stay the fuck away from my kid"

And "that if they had a problem with you to go to me"

The goon was terrified, quickly nodding and getting out of the bar as soon as possible

Sevika watched him go before turning to you

You looked at her with wide eyes, some awe and shock on your face

She didn't even process it before you hugged her, your arms around her waist tightly as you closed your eyes

She was stiff for a few moments before slowly placing her arm on your back and wrapping the other around you

You didn't think she saw you as her kid, but you were happy she did

As you grew up you obviously get more independent

But not from Sevika

She was still your mom after all

An S/o? Nope, you're still her kid

Stuck with her forever now

No matter how far away you move from her

She's always gonna find a way to be with you

She's always checking up on you

But sometimes she doesn't even have to

On random days she'll be sitting on her couch at home

Then she'll hear the door open and she knows who it is

You then come in, complaining about your day, at this point your probably in your 20's

You drop on the couch, your head in her lap as you just ramble on

She finds it funny

She loves it though

She'll never regret taking you in

You're now her kid, never gonna change

No matter how many arguments

Or how much you grow up

She'll always be there

#sevika x reader #platonic love #imagine #arcane sevika #sevika #sevika arcane #arcane x reader #arcane reader #arcane reader insert

[somedaylazysomeday]

Good Intentions

You are a philanthropist in Piltover’s undercity. Your outreach - the Haven - comes to the attention of Silco himself. He can’t have an uncontrolled organization operating so close to the Last Drop. He offers a deal that allows you to keep running the Haven… and you can only hope the terms are ones you can live with. 

Part One - Warnings for mentions of homelessness, mentions of drug use, systemic abuse, threats both overt and implied, bribery, blackmail, discussions of drug distribution, mentions of sex as payment.

Part Two - Warnings for sex as a form of payment, power imbalance, fingering, explicit piv sex, mild cum play, blackmail, bribery.

Part Three - Warnings for canon-typical violence, drug use, canon-typical threats of gun violence, ongoing references to sex as a method of payment, oral sex (male receiving), voyeurism, public exposure (kinda?), fingering, unprotected piv, spanking, orgasm denial, light cumplay.

Part Four - Warnings for ongoing reference to sex as a form of payment, references to voyeurism, fingering, handjobs, piv sex, minor derogatory language (one use of the term ‘cockdumb’), canon-typical threats of violence.

Part Five - Warnings for ongoing references to sex as a form of payment, mentions of drugs and drug use, mentions of past sexual history, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, hint of ass play, hand job.

Part Six - Warnings for ongoing references to sex as a form of payment, mentions of drugs including use and sales of, oral sex (male receiving), piv sex, rough treatment.

Part Seven - Warnings for ongoing reference to sex as a form of payment, sensuality, fingering, inappropriate use of ice, knife play, anal play, anal plugging, unprotected piv sex, oral sex, minor cum play, minor degradation.

Part Eight - Warnings for ongoing reference to sex as a form of payment, power dynamics, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected piv sex, handjob, biting.

Part Nine - Warnings for weird dreams, an attack, mentions of fire, mentions of physical abuse, ongoing references to sex as a form of payment, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, unprotected piv.

Part Ten - Warnings for ongoing references to sex as a form of payment, stripping, explicit piv sex, allusions to squirting, cum-eating (cum-tasting?)

Part Eleven - Warnings for ongoing references to sex as a form of payment, bossy Silco, period sex, fingering, unprotected piv sex, post-coital intimacy.

Part Twelve - Warnings for ongoing references to sex as a form of payment, minor arguments, descriptions of poverty in the Undercity, unprotected piv sex, anal fingering.

Part Thirteen - Warnings for mentions of sleeplessness, descriptions of a bar after hours, threats, ongoing references to sex as a form of payment, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected piv sex, themes of intimacy. 

Part Fourteen - Warnings for ongoing references to sex as a form of payment, conspiracy and performances, mention of outside threats, mentions of past oral sex, power play, unprotected piv sex, creampie, discussions of birth control methods, increasing intimacy. 

Part Fifteen - Warnings for ongoing references to sex as a form of payment, semi-consensual voyeurism, handjobs, arguments, threats, oral sex (male receiving), sex toy use, light breath play and choking, squirting.

Part Sixteen - Warnings for ongoing references to sex as a form of payment, jealousy, minor breath play, oral sex (fem receiving), biting, unprotected PIV sex, public sex, hints of exhibitionism, possessiveness.

Part Seventeen - Warnings for ongoing references to sex as a form of payment, implied violence, non-consensual drug use, paranoia, cuddling, threats.

Part Eighteen - Warnings for ongoing references to sex as a form of payment, threats, conspiracy, overeager lackies, mentions of alcohol consumption, semi-public piv sex, creampie, and plugging.

#masterlist #masterlist update #somedaylazysomeday masterlist #good intentions #good intentions fic #arcane netflix #arcane 2021 #arcane reader insert #arcane silco #silco #silco x reader #silco x reader fic #silco x you #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #reader insert fic #spicy #not suitable for minors #minors dni #ink's self reblogs

[beesincognito]

Perfect Strangers part one: The Academy

Viktor x Fem!reader (SFW)

part two

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

(you and Viktor meet on your first day at the academy and bond over being habitual, awkward loners. The story revolves around class issues and a sense of belonging mixed with lore and Arcane plot. The story will split at some point and you choose which ending you want to read. Kind of self-indulgent... Based on interactions in platonic and romantic relationships with the men in my life.)

*no warnings for this part*

Word Count:  2,857

******

Viktor was anxious, but masked it with a newfound sense of ambition as he stepped onto the grounds of The University of Piltover for the first time. He was only twenty and in a completely new city. Between his life in Entresol, and now Piltover, it was incomparable. He already knew he was capable of excelling with his work after already improving peoples’ lives back at home. It was only a matter of using the facilities and resources here to greatly expand his research. Then he could help people on a much larger scale instead of improving a factory here and there back in Zaun. 

     He followed the crowd of new students, taking in all of the chatter and splendor surrounding him. The university was so unnecessarily grand above him as he passed through an obnoxiously large doorway gilded in gold. Inside of the first hall the chatter grew to a low roar as every sound began to echo off of the walls.

******

That morning had been anything but exciting for you as you struggled to get out of bed. Filled with a sense of dread as you were stepping well past the point of no return. Today was orientation day at the academy as well as the last day to respond to the artists’ guild. Piltover’s guilds were nothing to scoff at, especially now when you had been so close to becoming one of their apprentices. 

     Stale hotel furniture greeted you as you finally sat up in bed and gave your aching back a much needed stretch. You couldn’t believe you weren’t going to the guild and there was nothing you could do about it at this point. Arguments had filled your family home for years about what you were going to do with your life. Applying to the artisan guild without your parent’s knowledge was your first act of rebellion in your golden-child life. Getting in didn’t even seem like a possibility until you had received a letter, only days before orientation, announcing your acceptance into the apprenticeship program.

     You had already accepted your seat at the academy by then, which your parents were overjoyed by after getting what they so desperately wanted, for you of course. Your family had always been from Piltover, as long as you could remember, but your parents believed in building your own legacy before joining the family business. Generations of your family had made names for themselves, all separate from the business. It was up to you to maintain your life and status in Piltover. At least they weren’t trying to use you for their own gain, they were just worried about giving you the best life possible by building character. Being an artist was not character building in their eyes

     Taking your sweet time getting ready was your last act of a subtle rebellion for no one else to see or know about. It wasn’t like you were even running late, sleep had eluded you all morning once the sun peeked its ugly face through the useless sheer curtains; if anything you were early. 

     Uniforms were nothing new to you, getting ready without having to think about your outfit choice was one less thing to worry about. At least the uniforms made you feel more confident, it was almost like a status symbol. You were one of Piltover’s “finest and brightest” like your parents kept saying for years every time your school reports were sent home. Sometimes you wished you never tried so hard in academics, then maybe you’d be at the artisan guild learning how to beautify the city, and possibly beyond, instead.

     Just in case boredom occurred, you tucked your latest sketch book into your, mostly empty, bag. Shoving your feet into the standard school loafers, you gradually made your way out of the hotel room and through the lobby. Breathing in the fresh air, or at least as fresh as a concrete city could feel. 

     People were everywhere, walking and talking like they belonged. Obviously they did, but something so mundane never came easy to you. You couldn’t help but stare too long at others or everything around you, overthinking about everything, as you kept your stride slow and controlled. Getting worked up wasn’t on your list of things to do before classes even began. You hadn’t even moved into your dorm yet. 

     There was a crowd in the courtyard of the campus. Not a huge crowd, but it must’ve been the new students. Imagining a sea of uniforms was overkill now that you could see everyone in person and realized not everyone who applied was accepted into the academy. Something about that made you feel special, especially when this whole situation was never your first choice.

     Walking towards the lecture hall filled you with a good kind of excitement for the first time during this whole ordeal. 

     That was when you first saw him all those years ago. You were just trying to survive the crowd as you were pushed back and forth between people that seemed to tower over you. Maybe it was just your social anxiety making everything seem so much larger than it actually was. The noise was almost overwhelming. Entranced by him, from across the crowd as everyone began to pour into the lecture hall, you felt calmer. Remembering you needed to feign some sense of grace, these people were going to be your peers after all. 

     Even though he didn’t tower over everyone else, you kept seeing his tousled chestnut hair peeking out through the crowd when you’d lose sight of him. 

     He was handsome. Shamelessly, but still inconspicuous enough to not be noticed, nudging your way through the crowd you finally found yourself close to him. Given that it was your first day on your own, you no longer had childhood classmates alongside you to keep company with which meant you needed to try and make real connections. Orientation was the way to start. Familiarity wasn’t going to get you anywhere at the academy. Plus, he seemed shy, with the way he was looking around and avoiding people, and so were you usually. This sneaking dance through the crowd was a first for you and it made you a little giddy, not in a romantic way. Maybe you were a little proud of taking the first steps by yourself for once. 

     When you had your bag settled under the seat behind your feet, you noticed he was holding a cane between his knees as he continued to look around the spacious building in awe. The way he seemed to be soaking everything in told you he wasn’t from around here. Maybe he’d just never seen the university before. You let your gaze linger for too long around his eyes because he turned suddenly and caught you staring. You couldn’t do anything else besides pretend you were staring at the scene behind him and awkwardly grin as you turned away. Suddenly you were uncomfortable with the situation you created.

     “Big room,” you practically have to squeeze out when it was your turn to feel his continuous stare. 

     “Yes, it is.” He smiled as he spoke which put you at ease.

     “I haven’t been here for a while, I did a tour a few years ago.”

     “So you’ve had your sights set on this place?” 

     You hesitated and waved your hands awkwardly while trying to formulate an answer that didn’t insult everyone in the room, “You could say I have ambitious parents. I don’t hate the opportunity even if it wasn’t my first choice.”

     Your answer seemed to intrigue him, “What would you rather be doing? Wasn’t it hard enough getting here?” There wasn’t sass or judgment in his questioning, just curiosity. 

     “It feels wrong to say it here, but I was training to be an artist. My academic skills were somewhat ‘impressive’, or at least that’s what they said,” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes and it felt rude immediately. You made an awkward waving gesture with your hand to try and focus, “eh, so I was encouraged to pursue a more academic route. I’ve settled on mechanical engineering for now and yes it was very hard for me to get here.”

     “Whether you wanted this or not, you have enough passion for it to have worked out so far.”

     His words were encouraging and he seemed sweet which was already making you feel flustered inside. “Thanks, now we just have to see if I survive.” You gave a small shrug and slouched in your uncomfortable seat. 

     You both continued to whisper comments here and there throughout orientation. It was long and you could hear a snore every once in a while as quotes about progress and innovation flew over your head. You figured you would be seeing him occasionally as your tracks had a lot of similarities so there was no rush to ask for his life story.

     When you had stopped talking you sketched in your book, occasionally feeling him shift to watch you work. The fresh smell of his body wash made you blush when you were so used to being around your fathers business partners smelling like cigars and expensive cologne. It made you tuck into your seat further as you furiously sketched people around you in the lecture hall. Ignoring the intrusive thoughts you had about this stranger.

     “What’s your name?” you whisper once your nose was able to part ways with your sketches.

     “Viktor,” he straightened his back, sitting up from watching you work, “you?”

     “y/n.”

     “That’s a nice name,” his smile made you blush as you went back to your book. 

     When orientation ended you offered to walk together and continue talking. Students wouldn’t be moving into their dorms for another week so you both had until then to explore this part of the city. Your parents hadn’t been keen on traveling back and forth twice just to get you moved in so they had set you up in a hotel for the week. However Viktor said he was already moved into a room given his circumstance, but admitted he appreciated the company. 

     “I figured you were from out of town,” you teased as you meandered around the grounds. 

     “What makes you say that?” his eyes felt so intense to you. From his perspective he thought he didn’t stand out too much at a first glance.

     “Everything seemed dazzling to you back there,” you gestured to the lecture hall you had both just left. It was a fancy building, but when you grow up around everything looking luxurious you don’t really notice it anymore. 

     “Well… you’re right, I’m from the edge of… Entresol, I transferred from the Academy of Techmaturgy,” he didn’t look at you as he said this. Almost as if he was awaiting some sort of judgment. 

     “Wait, that's… in Zaun. You must have worked so hard to get here,” you grinned and continued to walk in an effort to make him feel at ease being so far out of his element. “Was there somewhere you wanted to go? I can leave you alone if you’d like; we’ll most likely have some classes together anyways.”

     He considered doing what he always did, which was spend the rest of the day, and following week and a half, alone before having to attend classes. He was pretty set in his ways of just working all of the time in his lab in Zaun. Even as a child he was often alone, not intentionally. It couldn’t hurt to start interacting with someone, you seemed nice and not overbearing. What he feared was potential friends losing interest in his company if he couldn’t keep up with them physically. For him that just meant working more to prove himself. 

     His grip on his cane tightened and his knuckles were whiter than his already pale skin. “It would be nice to have company. I was going to visit the library before calling it a night.”

     As you both walked along a quiet path, listening to the city around you hum, the occasional tapping of his metal cane against the hard ground kept you both at the same steady pace. Your time at the library was relaxing as you looked through research books that you undoubtedly would have to reference later in the semester. There were private study areas that Viktor seemed to especially enjoy as you both were habitual loners. 

     You both finished off the evening with a stop to get a couple of hot drinks before you intended to part ways with him and leave it up to chance to run into him again eventually. It was a large campus.

     “I’ll see you around, Viktor,” you give him a soft smile and slowly stand from your shared café table.

     “Wait, y/n- I uh was,” the clatter of his cane stopped you in your tracks as he reached to pick it back up, “I’ll walk you back to your room.”

     This took you by surprise as the intentions of his innocent offer were lost on you, making your mind wander elsewhere. You stammered and made a quizzical gesture with your hands. 

     “You wanted to come back to my place?” you teased. Maybe you were emboldened by your change in scenery being far from your strict parents. It wouldn’t hurt if he really did want to come back to your room.

     Embarrassed at the realization of what he must have implied, he raised his free hand and waved it nervously with a forced smile.

     “No not, ehm, not like that. I-” he sheepishly chuckled as he stood from his seat slowly and you both shared toothy grins as you walked away from the café. Laugher cured whatever awkwardness Viktor had felt for that short moment. 

     Part of you felt a little disappointed, but you knew he was just being a gentleman so instead you chose to be amused. This whole day had been out of your comfort zone and contrary to your usual behavior, throwing caution to the wind was far from off the table if Viktor changed his mind by the time you reached your door. Perhaps it felt freeing to expect jumping into bed with someone you just met because there wasn’t much to lose, no long relationship to ruin, only a budding one. 

     Walking back to the hotel wasn’t awkward in the slightest, if anything it was more jovial than the entire evening had been. A metaphorical baseline had been drawn and you both settled in comfortably as perfect strangers. 

******

The rest of the week was the most socializing you’d ever done with a person one on one, especially with someone you just met. Viktor was different, he was emotionally complex and passionate about his research. It was inspiring to hear him talk about his life in the undercity and how he only wanted to help people in need. Listening to him felt like a kind of meditation just letting his mind wander as you drew. 

     Viktor hadn’t intended on seeing you every single day of the week, it’s just how it happened. The following morning you had seen him reading by himself on a bench and you greeted him awkwardly. He was polite and asked you how you slept, which made you blush. You thought he was just being polite, but he was honest and said you looked stressed.

     “I didn’t really sleep, I stayed up to read. Couldn’t pass out afterwards.”

     “Nervous?” 

     “Always, it seems…” you tried to quietly laugh it off with the roll of your eyes as he smiled at you. That damn grin. You’d never interacted with someone like this before even though it was probably simple for most people.

     He offered to go for a short walk and you both got tea at the campus café. That short walk turned into a late lunch, which turned into reading together in the library, and then more walking. Not before long, you both realized the entire day had passed you by, but it didn’t feel wasted and you both felt rather relaxed instead. 

     Viktor, quite the gentleman, offered to walk you back to your hotel room again, but you could tell his leg was bothering him. He was good at hiding it most of the time, slowing down instead of swaying against his cane or expressing discomfort. You just patted his arm and let him know he didn’t have to even though it was nice.

     The rest of the week pretty much went that same way where you would either run into each other exploring the campus or meet up at a spot you agreed upon the previous day. It was intoxicating getting to be with each other even though you’d just met that week, but it felt like so much longer already.

     There was nothing romantic in the air as far as you could tell, just having this new platonic friendship, where he seemed eager to be around you as well, was wonderful. 

     At night when you were alone in the dark and struggled to sleep, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to Viktor.

******

Thank you for making it to the end :)  more to come soon!

#arcane #viktor arcane #viktor x reader #reader x viktor #viktor #arcane viktor #viktor/reader #reader/viktor #viktor arcane x reader #arcane reader insert #first time sharing a fic and I am so nervous and scared I have most of it written out because I was too scared to share it #arcane viktor x you #viktor arcane x you #viktor x you #perfect strangers