#oc x viktor
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Aphelion
Notes: Honestly, this is more of a self-insert because I feel horrible & I want Viktor to take care of me and make me coffee. :') If you'd like listening material while you read, Once Upon a December by Emile Pandolfi is what I wrote this to. (I am looking forward to writing the next part, where they attend the ball. I already have the music planned.💖)
Context: Anya is Viktor's childhood friend, and a wealthy potential donor to the Academy. She is a mage and a theoretical physicist. She has been using her knowledge of magic to help with HexTech. Viktor has been put in charge of being her Academy liaison throughout her donation process, and they have been spending time reconnecting while he 'courts' her on behalf of the Academy. She is a different humanoid species.
potential warnings: poverty.
AO3 link.
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It was the beginning of July and the soft warmth of Spring had melded into the torridness of Summer. The Sun was high in the sky, and despite it being the weekend, Viktor was nearly finished running his list of errands for Heimerdinger, though he did not venture either home or to the laboratory when he checked the last item off of his list. Instead, he had one more errand to run, this time one of a semi-personal nature. He was tasked with formally inviting Anya to an Academy Philharmonic event that was to take place three weeks from that day. While it was technically still Academy business, Viktor derived personal pleasure from speaking with Anya, and thus he saved this errand for last, hoping to spend the most of his time talking with her or enjoying her company.
They had been reconnected for nearly two months, and it felt as though that time had passed as both years and merely days. He knew enough about her to answer any question any stranger might pose to him, and still he knew not enough about her to satisfy his own want to understand her most inner workings. He was grateful for any moments he could spend with her, especially privately.
He went to her home to greet her with the invitation – he had driven her home once before, and remembered where it was and how to find it. It was a large mansion, secluded in the forests on the outskirts of Piltover, where the treelines and the soft hills seemed to line the edge of her property, right up to the verandas and balconies around the perimeter of the home itself. Woodland animals sometimes came to peer into the windows and came to eat the flora and vegetation she had planted, she said. Anya cared little for symbols of wealth, but the one and only thing she had afforded herself in excess was a large home, she told him. She had grown up in a tiny home – nearly a hut; from it, her mother had healed ill clients, and provided them with charms and spell bags, making all of her tinctures and oils right there in their family kitchen. There was little space for her to exist outside of the small corners of her parents’ workshop, and what constituted their home. Viktor did not disparage her for her desire for more space, especially when she could purchase it without debt and without harm to anyone else.
He arrived and stepped onto the marble porch, tapping on a bronze knocker three times. There was a delay in any response, and for a moment he feared he had come at an inopportune time, and that he had missed her. But as he debated whether or not to leave, a small voice came from an intercom just at the side of the large double doors of the entrance.
“Hello?” it called, staticky and rough.
Viktor hesitated, uncertain who was on the other end. “I am Viktor, calling for Anya,” he said.
“Viktor, come in, and take the elevator to your right.” He knew the voice to be Anya’s – it spoke in their shared language – but it sounded different and laden with fatigue.
A harsh buzzing sound came from the door, and the lock was released. Viktor opened the door and wandered into the foyer; though he had driven her home once, he had not been inside the mansion itself. It was spacious, made almost completely of marble, with tall windows along the back edge – the light of the midday Sun bounced off every surface and created a vibrant environment inside the home. It seemed to be only two floors, though each floor was twice as tall as a normal home’s structure, making the entire building feel cavernous and empty. It was deathly quiet, and he could hear no other sound from any other living thing inside. He turned right from the foyer, and stepped down a short hall, where he saw the entrance to an elevator. It had three buttons: one for a floor above, one for the floor he was on, and one for a floor below.
“I’m up here,” the voice called from above him.
Viktor rode the elevator to the second floor and followed a stream of light nearby to an open door. He peered inside and found it was a bedroom, with a figure lying curled into a nebulous ball in the middle of the bed. “Anya?” he whispered, worry striking him as he tempted the threshold.
The amorphous figure lifted its head and greeted him with a smile. “Viktor,” Anya murmured and tried to sit up; she had little strength to do so, and instead laid back down.
Quickly, Viktor hurried to her side and stood watching the weakness in her face; the honey of her skin was now pale, and the vibrant, rosy color of her lips was gone. “Anya – I will call for a doctor,” he said. He pressed the back of his hand against her forehead, but she had no fever; she was warmer than he, though her elevated temperature was normal for her species, and the nerve damage throughout his body accounted for his own chill.
“No,” she shook her head. “I am okay. I need sleep.”
“If you are ill, you must not wait to be treated.” There was urgency and fear in his voice.
Her eyes settled on him, and the memory of when he was a child, stricken with polio, lying helpless in her mother’s care passed quickly over her mind. “I am not ill,” she reassured him, doing her best to allay whatever memories of his own that plagued him. She reached for his hand, and held it, taking his fingers gently and stroking his knuckles languidly with her thumb. “What day is it?” she asked.
He was taken aback by the oddity of the question, and he needed a moment to recollect the calendar. “It is the second of July.”
“It is nearly aphelion,” she said.
There was an astronomical clock at the Academy, but Viktor had only ever paid it little mind throughout his years there; though with his recent work with the crystal, and with runes and magic, he had briefly stopped to study it on occasion. The Sun and the Earth would be farthest from each other in two days, according to the calendar, marking the day of aphelion. “This makes you ill?” he asked, in ignorance and in worry.
She breathed with agreement. “Tired. And hungry. We take our energy from the Sun. When it is farthest, we are weakest.”
“What can I do?” he asked, his hand moving to caress her face; her skin was dry and thirsty, yet still soft and pliant.
Anya nestled into his touch, and her eyes fluttered as the callouses of his hands traced the features of her visage. He was gentle with her, despite the roughness of his hands, there was not an ounce of pressure in his fingers, but he touched her like porcelain. “Stay,” she whispered. She had no one to keep her company, no one with whom to commiserate. All of her kinfolk were huddled in their own homes far away from her, with their own families and their parents and their children; after the deaths of her parents, she had no siblings, nor any cousins, and no other adopted kin. She had only Viktor.
Viktor sat on the edge of the bed, caressing her arm as she began to fall back into slumber. He recalled the Summers they had spent together as children, and he found it difficult to remark the absence of something: the absence of his friend at a specific point in time, especially when he had no concept of its meaning at the time. He and Anya did not see each other regularly anyway, that to recall a specific week where she was not with him was almost impossible. He wished he had known then.
Her long, dark hair was spread across the rest of the bed, and he was careful not to touch it as he fixed the blanket over her.
There was a sitting area at the far end of the bedroom – and it was less a bedroom than it was a suite – there was a couch and two cushioned chairs, and a small library filled with books that were of most importance to her: books on her people, their cultures and their needs, their magic; there were books on physics and astronomy, astrological maps and charts rolled into scrolls at the top of each book shelf; there were books solely of art and photographs of statues from distant lands; books of poetry and mythologies from all cultures, not only her own. Each book had frayed edges and worn pages. He took the liberty of pulling a few from her shelf, hoping to ask for forgiveness in place of permission. He read them carefully and in her voice, reading each poem as though she were reciting it herself; reading each fact of her culture and of her species as if she were detailing it to him. He stayed and read and thumbed through books as she slept, and as the Sun moved from midday to late afternoon, as the shadows elongated and cast themselves as spectres throughout her bedroom.
Anya woke with a start and a gasp – Viktor immediately stood and made his way to her side, he leaned on furniture to aid his steps.
“What is it?” he asked.
Fear gripped her eyes and she fought for her own breath.
His hand caressed her face again – she was hotter this time. “A nightmare, myš’a?”
Her breath shuddered in and out of her lungs and she managed a nod. The terror inside of her began to quell itself at the presence of her friend. His hand was cool, and it staved off the heat of adrenaline.
“What should I get you?” he offered, a thought out loud for himself, trying to remember what kindnesses had been offered to him by his mother when he was a boy, when nightmares had crept and stolen from him sleep and peace.
“Coffee,” she said. “I would like a cup of coffee.”
He nodded. “Alright. I will be back with coffee.” He pulled the blanket over her shoulder as he began to leave, taking his cane with him.
“The water is clean,” she made a point to say to him as he disappeared from the doorway.
Its significance was not lost on him. He had a paranoia of unclean water – a phobia developed in young childhood after his disastrous encounter with polio. As a growing child and adolescent, he could not consume water that had not been boiled before his eyes; and as a young man in Piltover, once his fortunes and his means of income changed, he had deliveries of purified water brought to his apartment at the Academy twice a month. It was an additional expense he was not willing to relinquish.
The kitchen was broad and well organized, a pour-over coffee maker and a stained mug sat beneath a cabinet next to the stove, upon which rested a well-used kettle. He opened the faucet and hesitantly filled the kettle with water from the tap, the stream of water was perfectly clear and it gave no foul odour or pungent taste as he tested it: there was no tinge of metal, neither any grit left on his tongue. The water was crisp and almost cold, despite the Summer heat outside; it tasted like pure, soft minerals. As a child he could never have imagined a place to live where water was safe to drink from the tap itself, he doubted it, even still; his apprehensions about it were only allayed in that the water needed to be boiled anyway. He set the kettle to flame, and searched the cabinet above the pour-over, where he found various grounds of coffees organized alphabetically.
He returned to the bedroom with a freshly brewed cup of coffee in the mug that had been set aside on the counter. He found Anya sitting upright in the bed, surrounded by a pile of blankets and pillows, all pliable and cleanly – none of them were torn or patched. It was impossible to not notice the absence of things that were constant in their daily lives before, and he wondered how foreign it all must have felt to her.
He sat beside her on the bed again as he handed her the hot mug and rested his cane against his side. “Are you hungry?”
She breathed in the bitter scent as she took a sip. “I am. I am famished.” She took another sip and gave her companion a glance. “No, I should not say that. We both know what it is to starve. Never should I compare myself to it again. Not without honesty.”
“May it never be so,” he said.
“Forgive me, Viktor. I have not asked why you came to see me.”
He shook his head, insisting she needed no forgiveness. “It was nothing urgent. It can wait until you feel better.”
“Give me something else to think about,” she beseeched him.
He looked at her again and saw the clutches of whatever nightmare that had invaded her, still holding their talons inside of her psyche. He nodded, devotedly, and made from his vest pocket an envelope. “I was instructed to give this to you,” he said.
She took it, gracefully, and opened it as her mug rested in her lap. “What is it?”
“It is an invitation to the Academy Symphony Ball. It will be hosted three weeks from now, hopefully you will feel more yourself then. It is a charity event for the Music Department, to raise funds for instruments and scholarships.”
Anya smiled as she read it. “I always wanted to learn to play violin. We could never afford it.”
“I only learned to play piano after I moved to Piltover – to the Academy. I would practice in the music room at times when I could not concentrate on my studies.”
She looked at him and chuckled. “In that case, I would be happy to donate. Will you be attending?”
He drew a breath and looked away as he thought. “I have not received a formal invitation.”
“Are you not my liaison? You must attend, then,” she coaxed.
“It is white-tie, Anya, I have nothing to wear.”
“That is an easy remedy. I won’t go without you.”
He breathed out sharply, staring at her with a flatly amused expression – he was recalling now her sweet stubbornness. She had a way of pulling him out of his hermit’s shell, and the cramped spaces in which he felt most sedentary, if not comfortable. “And I suppose I cannot refuse you?”
Her expression softened, not wanting her friend to feel forced neither taken for granted. “You are free to do whatever you would like, Viktor. Free.” Her hand caressed his face, feeling the coarse patches of skin along his jaw, left behind from when he had shaved the day before. “But know that I enjoy your company, more than as my liaison. I had hoped to attend as your friend and companion.”
Viktor felt himself stuttered with surprise and uncertainty that she had spoken such feelings of friendship aloud. He had known, of course, the boundaries of their professional relationship had been obscured by their accord as childhood playfellows – and encouraged to be so by Heimerdinger – but he had not known if his desire for casual conversation and company had been reciprocated. He found his internal balance to be askew and stunned that she would want to associate with him further.
“Very well,” he said with a stiff nod.
She smiled, happily. “I will contact a tailor for your tuxedo.”
“No, Anya – that is too much.”
“I told you it was easy to remedy.”
He sighed again at her stubbornness.
“Besides, what if you accompany me to some other function? You will need something to wear then, as well. Consider it an investment,” she teased.
He managed a scoffed chuckle and he shook his head.
A lull of silence hung between them for a brief moment, and Anya watched as many thoughts passed over her friend’s face; he looked into the distance, she saw him trace every carving in the marble of her home, she saw him read the titles of books on the other end of her room, she watched as he stared at nothing in particular. She was not the only with nightmares, nor ghosts that haunted her – even in waking. Her wealth had cured her of many ails, it had ceased the bleeding of many wounds, but still, scars remained. She knew it to be the same for Viktor.
“Thank you for staying,” she said.
Viktor turned to his friend with a wordless agreement.
She reached for his hand, and took his fingers. “You are the only one who understands what it is like, to be here.”
“I do.” He took her fingers and graced her nails. “And I am happy to be here.” He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles.
Viktor stood and gathered himself to leave, not wanting to outlast his welcome as a guest, but more so feeling a quickened desire to flee – that if he stayed any longer, he would be consumed with the want for her companionship, for the longing in the affection and knowledge of her soul and her mind.
“You are welcome to stay in a guest room, if you would like,” Anya offered. “It is getting dark, the roads can be unsettling at night. I would not mind the company.”
Neither would he have minded. But Viktor refused her. “I will check on you tomorrow.” He saw a color of disappointment in her eyes as he stood in the doorway of her bedroom. He wanted to stay, and sit at her side, to ask about her thoughts and her theories, he wanted to expound upon himself, he wanted to learn of her. But it would be purposeless. He cherished her friendship – he always had, even as a young boy – and he had resigned himself to a spouseless life; but he intuited himself well enough to know he would desire more than friendship from her. Theirs was a professional relationship, he reminded himself; and he reminded himself what he had read and understood again earlier that evening: she would long outlive him. Friendship was far more suiting for them both; playfellows was all they had been, and all they would be.
“Goodbye, Anya.”
Anya knew her friend well enough to know sadness on the lines of his face. She wondered what nightmares haunted him, what fears wound themselves like rope around his neck. She wished to cut it and set him free. But it was his rope to share, and she did not take it from him; only that she wanted to share it. She wanted to share everything with him, no matter how unwise it might have been.
“Goodbye, Viktor.”
#viktor#viktor arcane#arcane league of legends#arcane viktor#netflix arcane#viktor league of legends#viktor the machine herald#machine herald#machine herald viktor#viktor x oc#oc x viktor#viktor x anya
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a collection of viks serving cunt
uncensored
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Did some lackadaisy sketches☝️ tried to make viktor more bob cat like and a little doodle of a lynx in this universe since I heard somewhere that big cats where still in the universe, and I find that hilarious. Like image your a tiny munchkin cat and a hole ass tiger has the possibility to start beef w/ u☠️
But yea in love with the designs and I got a new relatable charter 🙏 (Mordecai) (I’m 100% sure he got something and as someone with bpd and adhd plus friends I can relate ☠️)
#art#lackadaisy#mordecai heller#viktor#lackadaisy mordecai#lackadaisy viktor#not and oc but random design doodle#the ex husbands are ex husbanding#viktor x mordecai#i kinda ship it
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Distracting: Part 2
Viktor has been harboring guilt over his accidental thievery of your used champagne glass. At least he had the security that you were none the wiser..that doesn't change that your even harder to ignore now that he spent the weekend studying your lip print
warnings: More of Viktor's developing crush on you, lots of flashback to after the party, him being soft, some VERY mild suggestive stuff..don’t worry more is to come in the next part
Read part 1 here
Word count : 2,339
“Is the sun always that bright?” Viktor whined, covering his gaze as he hurried over toward the window, leaning toward it and squinting disaprovingly at the sunny world beyond it, before pulling on the shades and banishing the light. His head didnt exactly pound anymore, but he had a way of ending up hung over whenever he drank, call it his low weight, or the fact that his anatomy consistently seemed against him, if there was alcohol, it hurts the next day.
“I think it always stays like that Vik '' you answer, earning an unimpressed glance your way as he limps toward his desk and places down his bag. You stretch your arms upward, humming lightly as you feel the satisfying crackle in your spine and knuckles. You personally, feel wonderful. After the party over the weekend, you peeled away your dress and were fast to slip into a hot bath, allowing for your sore muscles to relax and let you practically fall into a perfectly restful weekend. You dont recall too much other than resting on your couch, reading the current novel that had infected your every thought, one you had also slipped into your bag for today when the lab was getting a little boring.
“Ugh..” You hear Viktor let out a relch at the sound of your joints popping, “Why, every morning..That isnt good for you, and it is worse to listen to” He lectured, placing himself in his chair, slowly turning to face you so that his point would get across. You mimic him immedietly, a practiced motion, turning to face him, and mirroring his posture and how his fingers laced together on his knee. He flashed yet another disaproving look, this time punctuated with a, “Rude”.
You snicker lightly, returning yourself to face your desk. Unpacking your bag only takes another minute or so, that moment remaining silent as you and Viktor set up for today's work load. The silence was normal, especially with Viktor, but that's why you liked working with him. While you could spend hours talking with Jayce, bouncing back and forth in a hyper focused frenzy, you much more enjoyed the comfortable silence of working next to Viktor. You had developed a ritual of passing back and forth materials and tools as you worked simultaneously on projects.
He was always respectful, never intentionally touching you without reason, and if he did bump you, he was quick to apologize, which you enjoyed only because of how flustered he got when he began to stumble over words so fast he began to slip into his native language. Or when he would tap you lightly with a pencil, and you would turn to see what he needed, only for him to lean over your notebook and scribble something down, like a warning before he did so.
You had caught yourself memorizing his little mannerisms over time, keeping a small tally at the top corner of your pages for every time he had tricked you into letting him fix a note, or murmured a word you didnt recognize when fidgeting with a new project. It relaxed you, like a little grounding tool to keep your mind occupied when you had tired yourself with your work, a healthy distraction. So you lazily flipped open your notebook to the current page, doodling a little box for today's tallies before pulling the sheet off your current project and beginning your busy work.
Viktor sat quietly as he began his project, as usual. He had just gone for his wrench when he caught movement in the corner of his eyes, a familiar motion he had memorized, you're playing with your hair again. His gaze tracks the motion, how the tufts flutter about, if he was closer like last time, he was sure he would be able to smell the shampoo you used again..if he was correct in assuming, it smelt like honey. He didnt notice he was staring until you turned your head and caught him. Your eyes lock with his golden gaze for a short moment, a blissful second of eyecontact between you, before he caught it and you watched his gaze flicker around, his head turning swiftly before settling back on his work and his form shrank down far too close to his project to be safe, but successfully he had avoided the chance of you seeing how harshly his face darkened red. His breath was shaky, as he struggled to keep it low enough that you coculdnt hear. How frustrating, it had been getting harder to avoid your prying eyes, more tedious to avoid you catching him logging your smiles, and even harder to keep up conversations without smiling too much, and you had only added another level to it with that damned glass. That weekend, he had smuggled that stupid glass away from the party. He didnt know why, in fact he was sure it was a trance when he walked into him and Jayce shared an apartment, only to find the empty champagne glass still tucked in his palm. Jayce locked the door as Viktor considered what could have happened to end up here, now a thief..through the glass couldn’t be too expensive, it felt rather cheap.
“What's that you got there?” Jayce asked, leaning over Viktor and causing him the flinch, almost hard enough to send the delicate glass shattering across the floor. He gripped it tighter, giving one of his famously annoyed glances. Jayce lifted his brows, motioning specifically toward the rouge lipstain at the edge.
“Oh? Oh hoho..that color there looks pretty familiar” Jayce had started to tease, his chest was starting to bob with a deep chuckle, the kind he had always given when he was preparing to tease him.
Viktor felt the stab of anxity in his stomach, looking quickly between Jayce’s knowing gaze and the glass before he squirmed a bit away, trying to hide away in his room, fast.
“I dont want to talk about it.” He insisted, tucking away into his room and quickly hiding away the used glass in his closet with a slam.
“Talk about what? Did they give it to you or did you mean to steal it?” Jayce practically howled as he leaned into Viktors room, watching as his friend as he struggled to undo his tie with furious aggression, only getting more incense the longer he struggled. With a loud huff he finally undid it, now wrestling with his shirt vest,
“I didn’t mean t- I didnt steal it from them” He insisted, pulled off the vest before landing on his bed and taking off his shoes,
“Oh..so you're not denying it anymore?” Viktor froze, his hands ceasing shakily over his cufflinks. Jayce smirked teasingly, suppressing another laugh until Viktor flung a loose shoe toward him. He quickly took the hint, “Okay! Okay! Good night loverboy-” He laughed, slipping away and leaving Viktor flushed violently and gripping his hair as he fell back into his bed.
At least now he could let his face cool down now that you were no longer watching him, it of course was easier to work and ignore you for a few minutes at a time. Until..
“Hey guys! Sorry I'm late,” Jayce hollered, bursting through the door, nearly tripping over the doorway and spilling the offering of coffe for the trio.
Yes, Viktor was screwed now. Jayce knew, he dditn know to what extent, but he did know. He knew about the glass.
“Here ya go,” Jayce chirped, handing you a coffee with that stupid winning smile.
“Aw, thanks ya goof. You know, you could just not be late, then you wouldn't need to get us coffee every monday.” You explain, sipping the drink as you watch him float off toward Viktor who had frozen solid since the door opened.
“Then I would miss out on your winning smile, you have a very special smile when you get surprised by coffee” He replied, twirling around to the other side of an unresponsive Viktor. He placed the cup beside his friend's hand, leaning over his shoulder to whisper where you couldnt hear.
“I got you the same order, in case you want to ‘swap’ cups again,” He hummed, almost getting hit as Viktor swatted him away. Jayce snickered quietly, slipping away to his own work.
Viktor sat staring at his coffee for a few moments, regrettably reaching for it. Coffee was essential, how unfortunate that it was a gift from Jayce..he drank it non the less, pressing his lips to the lid and gulping down a few mouthfulls and returning finally to an average working pace.
“Vik? Are you there?” Viktor snapped out of his focused state, turning toward the sound before pulling off his goggles and finding you much closer than he expected you to be. You stoof next to him, leaning a little over his side after spending the past minute or so trying to get his attention. You tilted your head, giving an amused huff as you slipped some papers to his desk. “Thank Janna the fire alarm wasn’t going off, you would be cooked by now.”
He blinked, glancing from you to the papers a few times before turning to read them better. He pulled them from the table, acutely aware of the fleeting warmth your hands had left.
“Hmm..yes, and I'm sure in wouldn’t notice the heat or pain either,” he replied, looking over your notes with a similar, less intense, focus.
“I wouldnt be surprised, you kinda run on autopilot when you're zoned out. Once you stole my pencil for the day after fixing my notes”, You pull yourself up on the desk, crossing your legs and watching as he scribbles down corrections to your equasions. “And you have yet to return that novel I let you borrow, you're kind of a clepto.”
“I am not a ‘clepto’” he huffed, adjusting one of your notes, biting on the edge of his pencil,
“That's my pencil..”
He pulled it away from his teeth, inspecting it for any signs he may recognize. He flipped it in his hand, finding your initials etched into the wood..
“Ah..so it is..” he muttered, finishing his edits before offering you the pencil.
“No, you keep it.” You say, declining the chewed on pencil and snatching up your papers. You hug them to your chest, walking a step or two before leaning down close to his ear, “Add it to your little collection,” you purr, straightening up and hurrying toward Jayce for a final opinion.
Viktor stills in his seat, holding the pencil loosely between his fingers and staring blankely at the edge of the desk. He twitched his hand lightly, unable to do much more after that.
You were so close..he still felt the warmth of your breath across his throat, the memory of it sending a static shiver down his spine, causing him to lean over his desk and place his head againstt his hands. You were warm, even though you hadnt touched him, and being so close, he could confirm..your shampoo smells like honey.And when you sat on his desk, he had fought every instinct in his body not to look at you, not when you sat above him like that. Your legs crossed, leaned over his work. If he reached over, he could have confirmed another theory, whether or not your thighs were as soft as they looked- Damn it, focus. He coudln’t be doing this, not here. You were no less than a yard away and all he couldnt think about was how good you smelt, how your breath felt against his neck..how your lipstain would look against his skin. He had noticed you were wearing the same color as before.
‘Stop it. They work with you.’
He grabbed his coffee, sipping it aimlessly.
The night after the party, Viktor had sat staring at the single stained glass on his desk. He had pulled it out to clean it, thinking at least he could put it in the kitchen and just forget all about his accidentale thievery. Instead, he had ended up watching it, as if it would squirm or come to life if he only watched for long enough.
He didnt clean it..he let it sit on his desk and continued on with his day. On occasion he would glance at it, sometimes walking over and holding it to closely inspect the print of your lips left on its crystal edge. He always rounded back to it, replaying the memory of you in that dress, giving him the rest of your drink..you smiled..maybe you knew- of course you didnt. Why would you know? He was good about hiding it, right? He didn’t think he made it too obvious, maybe stareing a bit longer than he should have, or that one instance where he had to hide the smile tally from you when you had seemingly manifested beside him.
Before he had slept that night, he absentmindenly brought it with him to the kitchen..he ment to clean it..but instead he had filled it, nursing down a bit of wine to trick his brain into sleeping. Maybe even allow for a dream similar to the events of the party..with less of him standing alone.
He groaned lightly to himself, standing and grabbing his crutch before walking across the room toward the door.
“Everything ok Viktor?” Jayce asked, pulling his attention away from the blackboard,
“Just need some fresh air..” Viktor replied, escaping the lab, and making his way down the hall.
After a walk his head would be clear enough to work again. He would be able ti at least make some progress on the assignment without his thoughts drifting back to how your uniform looked against your skin, or how pretty your voice sounded when you gifted him your stolen pencil..
“Add it to your little collection..”
He paused..eyes wide. “Oh..no..”
#viktor#viktor x reader#viktor x fem!reader#arcane viktor#viktor arcane#viktor x oc#viktor x y/n#Viktor x gn!reader#viktor x you#viktor x f!reader#arcane#arcane x reader#arcane x you#arcane x female reader#arcane x y/n#arcane x gender neutral reader#arcane x oc#arcane x reader fic#arcane fanfic#arcane fandom
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#lackadaisy#tracy j butler#lackadaisycats#mordecai heller#viktor vasko#vikdecai#fanart#oc#viktor x mordecai#repressed inexperienced vs affection hungry veteran
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If you follow me on main you already know this skrunky mad man has consumed me
#arcane#viktor arcane#art#fanart#man i'm too old to remember how to tag properly#hello fellows humans I'm not dead#I've vanished for years and then I come back dropping blorbo's art#maybe I'm gonna disappear again#maybe i'm gonna post Viktor x oc fanart#who know what the future reserve for us
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Intimate Moments (Arcane Edition)
Summary: The most intimate and emotional moment during sex you’ve had with the main Arcane characters!
Characters: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Ekko, Viktor and Silco
Warning: NSFW for sexual themes and suggestive themes. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
A/N: A compilation from my last account and one of my personal favorite imagines/headcanons. Enjoy!
Jinx
It was your first time having sex with her. She didn’t really know what she was doing, but Jinx being Jinx, dived head first. Literally. She thinks she’s seen and been to heaven when she’s between your legs. The feeling of her on you in such a position made you moan out her name.
Not Jinx. But Powder.
Jinx stares up at you and you already know you made a mistake. No one calls her Powder, not even Silco! Unless you have a death wish, you should keep that name out of your mouth!
You stare down at her blue eyes expecting a scowl or a roar! But you were shocked when she whispered to you,
“Say it... Say it again.”
So you say it. “Powder.”
“Say it again.”
“Powder.”
“Please say it again.”
“Powder...”
You experience the best orgasm in your life, having the loose cannon below pleasure you like there was no tomorrow. She let her tongue work wonders and picked up her pace, taking in all of you in her mouth. When you came, Jinx cleaned you up and even pleasured you a little more, causing your eyes to roll back in eternal bliss.
She could tell you were finished for now so she pulled herself up to cuddle into your side. It took you a minute until you realized she cried to sleep. Not tears of anger or sorrow. But of joy.
Ever since, you are the only one who can call her Powder.
Vi
Vi is a wild animal in bed.
She’ll throw you down and waste no time to fuck your brains out for simple pleasure.
But one day, during a steamy make out session, you stopped to kiss down on her bandaged knuckles.
She’s taken a back for a minute.
Why would you do that?
You keep kissing on her knuckles without a care in the world. “Stop it,” She told you, trying her best to pull away from you. But you hold her softly. “Y/N, stop it...” She keeps fighting back for a minute, but eventually stops.
The brute breaks in your arms. How could you do that? How could you love someone who’s ruined so many lives with those fists of hers? It was impossible, wasn’t it? But you told her the answer to her worries and questions with a single glance into her gray eyes.
‘No.’
That night, you two had sex as usual, but this was more personal. More intimate. Vi took more gentle strokes and eased into picking up her speed and slamming harder on you.
She screams and moans your name like a prayer, countlessly says she loves you, feeling like any moment you will disappear. Though the way your hands relaxed on her hips and drew circles along her waist said otherwise.
The two of you came together before sleeping in each other’s arms. She could get used to sensual sex like that…
Caitlyn Kiramman
Innocent little Caitlyn.
Why are there barely any headcanons for Caitlyn? I-
Caitlyn was a classy woman, so sex was never really on her mind. It still wasn’t when you guys started dating. But you both knew you had to get things over with eventually. So one evening, Caitlyn dragged you to her room to try it.
The both of you were super awkward, especially the female enforcer. She would always ask in between actions “Are you okay? Is this right? Should it be the other way?” Bless her soul.
All around, everything was going well.
Until it was time to get naked. When it came her turn to feel pleasure, she didn’t do anything.
She hung her head low to the ground almost in disappointment. She stared down at her body. Thoughts lingered in her head; ‘What if I’m not beautiful to Y/N? What if I make a fool out of myself?’
Before she could ask herself any more questions, you rid her of her worries with sweet kisses. With every piece of clothing thrown on the floor, you whisper out, “You’re so precious. You look like an angel. Oh, I love you so much.”
You almost broke her down with every kiss you placed to mark her body. Your lips graced on her cheeks, her lips, her neck, her chest and finally her core. Oh, you loved everything about her.
You started to eat her, licking inside her folds at an average pace and flicking your tongue on her clit.
In a matter of seconds, her hands are lost in your hair, pushing your head closer to her to feel all of your tongue inside of her. Her moans clouded the room long after she came in your mouth. Pulling up, you both had lust in your eyes and could tell the night was still young…
Let’s just say she eventually screamed your name to the heavens long into the night and she realized two things; Sex with you was the best! And she was beautiful.
Ekko
Ekko has always been a bit of a wild boy when it came to having sex with you. It’s why you two were together to begin with.
He can be playful some nights, chuckling with you when he messes up something. Rough when he just really wants you. And romantic when you just need to know he cares about you.
One night the two of you were just having the time of your lives. He was slamming into you from behind, groaning out, “You like that, huh? Yeah, go ahead and scream my name, baby.” And boy did you love it.
Just feeling him stretch you out and pound deeper and faster in you was like euphoria. You found yourself screaming at the top of your lungs, “Ah, yes! Right there! Fuck, I love you, Ekko!”
You didn’t want it to stop, but soon the movement had slowed and the grip on your thighs loosened. You felt your body turning now to face the leader of the firelights panting down at you. “You love me,” He questioned, his brown eyes glistening in the moonlight full of hesitant awe.
Did you say you loved him? You never told him because you were scared of getting attached. He was the leader of a cause and lived in Zaun. Any minute he could be taken from you, so you tried not to get attached. Yet you said you loved him, whether it be out of lust or love wasn’t important. You said the sacred three words to him.
In that moment, you were sure as he began to stroke inside of you again, you didn’t see a warrior. You saw your boyfriend, your best friend, your everything.
He must have seen that in you too because he started to dig deeper in you, continuously hitting your g-spot with smooth strokes. His arms wrapped around you tightly, groaning at the feeling of a climax approaching him.
Together in a sea of utter pleasure, the both of you came together before relaxing in each other’s embrace under the shine of the midnight moon.
You slept well that night in his arms, letting him hold onto you with the mindset of if he let you go, you wouldn’t come back.
No matter what, after that day, you both say I love you at least once a day.
Viktor
My everything next to Jinx.
You and Viktor have been partners for a long time in Piltover, working on projects together when he wasn’t accompanied by Jayce. Though you two never started to officially date because hexcore was more important, even if deep down you two wanted to become an item.
Well, the thing about humans is that they don’t know how precious people are until they almost lose them.
Viktor found himself having a particularly horrible week; The hexcore may have fixed him, but took away a close friend. He may have almost stopped an incoming war, but he ended up losing some close allies due to the bombing on the council’s headquarters.
He had thought he lost you when the city went into lockdown due to the commotion. Thank the gods he found you that night safe and sound at your home.
Thank the gods he was safe too.
That following night, the two of you met one another at your home, where he knocked on your door. Your eyes connected with his amber eyes, and you were sure they screamed one thing; ‘I need you’.
In a matter of seconds, you two synchronized like gears to slam each others’ lips onto one another. Moving in rhythm, bodies danced through the dimly lit house towards your bedroom, where the scientist pushed you down on your comforter and wasted no time to rid himself of your clothes.
You did the same, though you found it cute and amusing that he was apologizing for his ‘inappropriate’ actions. You showed it was okay when you slammed your lips onto his again and felt yourself yearning for him.
You two grinded on each other, letting your lower bodies explore one another through groans and moans. The entire night, you two were one. Nothing else mattered when you found Viktor cumming inside of you and placing your hand gently onto your cheek.
You two stared at one another desperately before you heard the man speak in his native tongue, “я люблю тебя так сильно.”
You never questioned what that meant, but when you two started dating, he made it an effort to always tell you “I love you so much.”
Silco
As long as you’ve been dating the crime lord of Zaun, you knew damn well that Silco was not an emotional guy. No one has ever seen him let out his feelings to people, not even Jinx.
If he did ever give into his emotions, it would be out of anger, but never out of love.
He only ever saw sex as something done to relieve stress, kind of like you. You were his bitch anyways, nothing more.
That’s why he would always fuck your brains out, slamming his cock inside of you through your mouth or lower end with one goal in mind; To forget about the world and please himself for once in his god awful life.
However, one evening when he was railing deep inside of you on your desk, something was different to say the least. He wasn’t fucking you like a mad man. He wasn’t calling you degrading names and growling like an animal. Instead, his strokes were sensual and careful.
That was new. Was he sick? It’s not that you didn’t enjoy it. But why was he doing this?
You reach up to touch his face where his scar was and the man had froze up. You wanted to ask what the hell was going on. Where was the man who would pound you senseless?
Instead of being given an answer, his orange and blue eyes just pierced down at you before he whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Through those eyes, you had seen the man you once knew. A man who was calculating, but somewhat compassionate. A man who just wanted the best for him and his brother. A man once had big dreams he wanted to accomplish with you by his side.
He always said that naïve brat was gone, but you always knew he was in there. That’s why you had no issue with this new version of him. It’s why you never batted an eye at his scarred eye. As a matter of fact, you adored it. You adored him.
With the feeling of your lips crashing slowly into his, Silco began to fuck you as usual. His strokes only picked up after a moment of your moans colliding in your mouth.
Before you knew it, he came hard and deep inside of you, making you scream out his name before relaxing a bit. Now panting hard on his desk, you stared up at Silco, finding him panting along with you. He eventually pulled away to sit in his chair.
You don’t know why he apologized or what happened that night, but from that day forward, Silco was more open to showing his appreciation for you…
Arcane requests are currently open! :D
Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, be safe and have a good day! <3
#arcane x gender neutral reader#arcane x y/n#arcane x you#arcane x oc#arcane x reader#arcane x female reader#arcane netflix#arcane league of legends#arcane lol#arcane jinx#arcane violet#arcane caitlyn#arcane viktor#arcane ekko#arcane silco#jinx x oc#jinx x you#jinx x gender neutral reader#jinx x reader#vi x oc#vi x you#vi x reader#vi x y/n#caitlyn x y/n#caitlyn x you#caitlyn x reader#vi league of legends#caitlyn kiramman#ekko x you#ekko x y/n
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Trigger Warning! Yandere behaviour! Toxic Relationships! Slight NSFW! Mention of past injuries!
1.5k words | unedited | Yandere OC
(I don’t think it’s very Yandere, just toxic)
“You know papa doesn’t like it when we make a mess.” Your eldest hushed his younger sibling. A finger to his lips and brows furrowed as he instructed them to not make a ruckus.
Had it been up to you, you’d have wanted them to make a mess. Make as many messes as their little hearts desired, be as loud as they could, even if your ears bled.
But you had little say on the matter. “A wife’s duty was not to contest her husband.” Or so your husband said as he insisted a nanny and tutors would do much better at raising your children than you ever could, he ensured you were as much a stranger to them than he was.
Just there to smile and fret over them when outside the privacy of your home and watch them ushered along by their nannies the moment you were home.
Your heart broke seeing how quickly your younguest stopped in his tracks. Trying his best to pick up the pieces of the ceramic he had broken, trying his best to help his older brother clean, not yet aware of your presence.
Creak.
You cursed the wooden floor as just a shift in your weight alerted them of your gaze. Eyes wide as their little faces drowned in utter dread.
“Mama?”
You couldn’t think of what to say at that moment, the maids probably already heard the noise, they’d be here soon. So you remained silent, carefully kneeling as you picked up as many pieces as you could. Careful to throw them away, leaving as little proof of the accident as possible. Making sure you check both the boys for any injuries. While such a cleanup was futile, your husband meticulously had every last ceramic planned, it wouldn’t take much for him to notice the missing ceramic if the maids didn’t immediately inform him of it. You reckoned it was better than watching their faces filled with terror.
“Madam?” You couldn’t help but jump at the maid who interrupted you, looking up to see her indifferent, if not slightly annoyed expression.
“I apologise, the young masters ran off before I could do anything.” She said, snatching their hands right from yours. She said something about history lessons but you were far too lost in your thoughts by then to care. Your children both looking back towards you, one final time before the nanny rushed them along towards whatever their schedule had in place now. You weren’t sure what to call the look in their eyes.
/
Dinner was always the worst. Every day, without fail at 7pm sharp, you’d all be gathered around a table. Food you were allowed no part in cooking, displayed skillfully in front of you, every last detail taken into account by the cook.
And there you would sit, in front of your husband who seemed more focused on the off placement of the cutlery than anything else, instructing the butler to deal with whoever was in charge of it.
Then polite conversation would take place. Your husband would ask about your day, your children’s, their studies and what-not. Mention something about his own day as well if he was feeling talkative, just passing comments, really.
Back always arched straight and posture stiff, you mustn’t take too big a bite, chew at least 30 times, elbows shouldn’t be on the table… There, you did it again, got lost in your thoughts and drifted off to god knows where.
“You’re slouching.” It was Viktor’s voice that brought you back to reality. So smooth and enticing but you knew better than to be deceived. A quick apology as you straighten your posture again, you didn’t have it in you to look him in the eyes, not when his scrutinising gaze would be waiting for you.
The rest of the dinner was a blur, always the same, without fail.
“I want you two to in office later.” Viktor said, referring to your children. Your youngest gripping his brother's sleeve, the eldest muttering an ‘understood’ before leaving the room. It was a pitiful sight, especially when you couldn’t intervene, not when you met eyes with Viktor, faces with a look that knew exactly what you were thinking.
There was little for you to do during this time so you would read. It was a respectable hobby, one that didn’t earn you criticism from your husband and kept your thoughts at bay. But today you couldn’t help but think of what Viktor had to say to the children.
He was probably informed of the broken vase. It was quite valuable if you remembered correctly. As were most things in the house, you supposed, nothing too special. But you were sure it wasn’t the value your husband was concerned with.
He wouldn’t hit them. You knew that well, your husband wasn’t the type to do that. Not when he insisted on calling the best doctors to help your son through the healing process last time he got injured while playing. It was a common fracture any old doctor could have dealt with but the scarring is what worried him. "What difference would that leave between him and damaged goods?” You thought it to be a cruel thing to say over a measly scar.
He wouldn’t yell either, it was unbecoming. He’s never liked loud noises, whether it be his own voice or otherwise. Always leading to a wince, followed by a stern glare and warning. “I’m sure you were taught to use your indoor voice as a child, no?”
But sometimes you felt like his way of dealing with such matters was much worse. The silence felt like torture, the look in his eyes made you feel small and the calm tone of his voice would be unnerving. You weren’t sure how such young children could handle him when the thought of it had your hands shaking. The heavy rain hit against your window as you looked out the window, a final attempt to distract yourself. It had become a habit to day dream, of a life your husband wasn’t part of, one where you could take your kids to play, speak to them without the watchful gaze of the nanny, laugh along with them and… and—
“Madam!” The sudden voice led you to drop the book in your hands, barely holding in a shriek as you looked at the maid that had entered your room.
“The master asked for you.” You followed the maid into the dressing room, a night dress neatly laid across for you.
It wasn’t something you would have found yourself wearing before your marriage.
As you entered the dark room you were met with Viktor, his eyes focused on the buttons of his pyjamas. He’d do much better with the lights on but he had always insisted on keeping them closed, especially on such nights.
“You’re late.” He said, still engrossed in the final buttons of his shirt.
“I must have gotten sidetracked, I apologise.” It was better to say as little as possible, not give him any more to criticise you on.
You could feel the bed dip in the bed as he joined you.
“You were there when they broke that vase.” Unlike the day where he would barely spare you a glance, his eyes bore right into yours at night, his face so close to yours you could almost see past the emotionless wall he painstakingly kept. Almost.
“It was an accident, they’re just children.”
“You also encouraged them to cover it up.”
“Because I knew you would—!” There it was again, the expression you couldn’t quite recognize, the hand’s instinctively covering his ears—you don’t remember your voice being that unbearable. But you didn’t have much time to linger on it.
“We’ll discuss this further in the morning.” His lips had inched closer, only a hairs length away from your own. Crashing into yours before you had time to register.
Perhaps his only saving grace was how good he was in bed. However, even then, he did things with a surgical precision, leaving behind no traces of his finger that ghosted all over your body and no marks of any sort to serve as proof of what you had done.
And while you would have loved to do the same, you couldn’t help but dig your nails into his back as he thrusted inside you.
The slight ridges of scars that cut far too deep to fully heal could be felt on it. Even in the barely lit room, with only faint rays of moonlight, you could see the scars that marred his skin, everywhere from his chest to his legs. Impossible to see when he donned his usual attire. Placed strategically enough to be invisible to an outsider, only in the comfort of the night could you see what the day reduced this man to.
As he finally slowed down his pace, you could feel his weight shifting, instead leaning into you as his arms wrapped around you, one of his hands brushing the hair off your face.
By the end of it, you weren’t sure who to pity more.
Masterlist
#yandere#yandere character#yandere x reader#oc#original character#yandere oc#yandere blog#yandere scenario#yandere male#dark fic#dark romance#scenario#x reader#yandere oc x reader#yandere original character#yandere original character x reader#yandere viktor#oc:Viktor
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Ello! may I please request some of the Lackadaisy characters reacting to a ridiculously tall male reader joining their crew?- like hit their head on every doorframe tall?/jk- but in all seriousness, maybe like 8ft or something?
okay im going for like 7ft or so because that SLIGHTLY more reasonable but not by much; idgaf tho this is funny. Also if you will please imagine this as a lanky ass oriental cat a la Pangur of pangur-and-grim fame. also featuring lots of bi cats, because I say so.
Lots under the cut!
♣️Rocky - Oh!! That's a big one! He makes endless "how's the weather up there" jokes (some are so weird) and has lots of ... stories ("St. Louis' very own creature from the river bottoms, only arising when the fog is heaviest!"); it really brings him back to his circus barker days. The first time you picked him up he was momentarily stunned, also he may or may not have climbed up you like a kitten when something startled him. It only happened once, okay? He's also fond of swatting at your absurdly long tail, as in it distracts him mid-sentence and he just has to take a swipe. Look, this probably won't awaken anything in him.
♣️Freckle - First thought? Terrifying, even when you bonked your head pretty bad on the doorframe. Okay, well, you were a little less scary after the third time. He's used to being smaller than most men, but something about you just towering is nothing short of creepy, especially if you have a more tough or intense personality. If you're a kinder soul, Freckle relaxes much faster. When you both have to pile into the back of the car, he feels really awkward about how you have to contort and twist yourself. Jeez, that doesn't look comfortable ... and somehow it makes him feel a lot smaller, which he doesn't appreciate.
♣️Ivy - Omiiigossshhh, the girls at school are not gonna believe this. She beelines to you right away, delighted with the novelty she's discovered. Naturally she wants to dance, and she'd be so shocked and delighted if you were elegant in spite of your lankiness - that'll get her a crush right away. Don't worry, if you're more clumsy, you're still cute! She thinks everything you do is "cute", even if you have the face of a thug and the body of a furry noodle. Having to scoot into cars, towering over the bar when you sit on a stool, your shirt sleeves nearly going to your elbows? Cute! She'd love to buy you something real fancy that fit, she just knows you'd look sharp.
♣️Mitzi - Oh. Oh my. Not her usual taste, but with the right clothes and some pomade, well, you'd be a proper gentleman. Mitzi is already plotting to get you a nice suit made, and good naturedly notes you ought to eat more or the wind will knock you right over. She already feels small next to Atlus and Viktor, but that's doubled with you. Sometimes it makes her a little uncomfortable, but she knows you don't mean to cause the discomfort. If she got you a real nice suit and a gun, you'd be an excellent guard for when she's out and about ...
♣️Viktor - He tries to recall the last time he was this much shorter than someone ... When he was twelve, perhaps? He feels zero intimidation from you, though. Viktor's confident he could snap you in half if need be. Hm, if they got some muscle on you, you might be able to handle some serious firepower... He thinks on it. Oh, and now he isn't the only one having to dodge doorframes. If you're a less violent-inclined person, many times he's growled at you to stop being so slack-jawed and try to look scary, especially when you both are supposed to be guarding.
♣️Zib - Wow yeah okay this is awakening something in him for sure. The musician gets a little hot under the collar when you stand really close and he has to look up, or god forbid, you bend down to his eye level. He has no idea why he's feeling both aroused and terrified, and what that's supposed to mean. Once you said "good boy" as a joke and he nearly tripped and fell off the stage. He's this hopeless even when you're a dork; if you're actually a smooth operator, he's doomed.
♣️Atlas - Yeah, it's not hard to figure out how you stood out to him. You were offered a job, and though you're much lankier than a triggerman out to be, Atlas has plans. Just some fattening up, some practice with a gun and a well-made suit (your Christmas present, in fact), and you cut quite a shadowy figure. The suit is probably the finest one you own, and the only clothing that's fit in years. Mitzi helped choose the color.
🏵️Serafine - She's intrigued right away, which is no surprise. Most people notice you right away, and it's even better if you work for the Marigold gang and she gets to have plenty of time to flirt and bother and amuse you. Serafine is doubly entertained if you're a more clumsy or nervous sort. She loves calling you "le fantôme" or "le boogeyman", and very much admires when you use your height to frighten someone they're having a "talk" with. She has absolutely grabbed your long-ass tail to get your attention.
🏵️Nico - Listen. He's been with men before - not as much as women, mind you, and he's always preferred those who are smaller than him, which is most. But look. You're a tree, he's a squirrel. No shame, you're cute and he'll say it. He can probably pick you up just fine (which he's very proud of) and laughs if it embarrasses you. He's very interested in how you might fight, and has given you several tips on how to use your unusual size to your advantage when going hand-to-hand with someone.
🏵️Mordecai - Yes this is definitely awakening something and he doesnt want to think hard about it also why is EVERY damn person around him a tree -- You drive him up a wall for many reasons. You slouch all the time, your clothes never fit right, you don't carry a gun that would work best for your long fingers. The Savoys joke about you being Mordecai's "project" because he keeps fussing over you. Though they must say, it's a lot easier to get information out of their targets when they have Mordecai's signature glare and a terrifying cryptid looming over him.
⛰️Wick - Oops! All those feelings he's repressed since boarding school are coming out. Note you could be awkwardly trying to get through a doorway or climb out of a car, with clothes that don't fit quite right or trying to finesse a gun that's too small and he is just, totally enamored. If you have more of a scary demeanor - or you put on that act when you're working as Mitzi's bodyguard - then he's still enamored, just with a dash of fear. So. That's confusing.
#i have a lackadaisy OC loosely based on that inbred oriental baby lol#who is just. a fucking tree. a snake with fur.#lackadaisy x reader#rocky rickaby x reader#calvin mcmurray x reader#freckle mcmurray x reader#ivy pepper x reader#mitzi may x reader#viktor vasko x reader#dorian zibowski x reader#zib zibowski x reader#serafine savoy x reader#nicodeme savoy x reader#mordecai heller x reader#wick sable x reader#atlas may x reader
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Starlight Immemorial
Notes: Excerpt to a fanfiction I will never write in its entirety. I swear it makes sense in my head. If you'd like listening material while you read, May Be by Yiruma is what I wrote this to.
Context: Anya is a wealthy benefactor to the Academy and to Viktor. They grew up together in Zaun, and reconnected six months ago. After a violent incident with the head of Public Relations, Viktor was tasked with cozying up to Anya, as she was a prospective donor at the time. During that time, they have rekindled their friendship, and have unspoken feelings for each other. Anya's species lives for centuries, and Viktor's body is uncooperative due to Post Polio Syndrome.
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The seasons were changing, and there was a biting chill that threatened the air. It wasn’t enough to keep the guests of the Academy fundraising dinner from wandering outside, but it bated most to reach for coats and shawls. Anya, however, found the cold a welcome reprieve from the stuffiness inside the ballroom. Even if she was starting to shiver.
She stood on a balcony, her hands wrapped around her bare arms as she watched the stars begin to emerge on the horizon. The sun had long since set, but her eyes were adjusting to the dark. One by one, she watched them glitter with fervence – she made it a game to point out to herself which points of light were actually stars, and which were planets. Planets don’t twinkle, they’re constant sources of immovable light. And if she stared just long enough, she could make out the color of each point of light: some were red, some were blue, some planets were yellow. She smiled to herself, contemplating existence beyond her own.
“Are you bored?” She heard a familiar voice call out from behind her.
Anya started and turned to see Viktor making his way towards her onto the balcony. He had his cane in one hand, and the other in his pocket.
Her smile widened and they shared a mutual chuckle. “I don’t like parties.”
“They are repetitive,” he admitted and settled beside her.
She looked behind him in the distance, towards the open door – others were mingling, with soft murmurs of buoyant conversation that could be heard echoing off the marble walls outside. It was all bland and grey, despite the colorful frocks and expensive jewellry. There were no points of light to focus on, no twinkling, no thoughts besides carefully traded words. “Won’t you be missed?” she asked, unenvious of his responsibility to represent the Academy.
He cast a doubtful expression and turned to watch the party. “I doubt it,” he shrugged. “There is little I can contribute that differs from what Heimerdinger and the others have to say.”
She scoffed and eyed him. “That’s not true.”
“...That the guests would appreciate,” he clarified.
She laughed. “I don’t mind being a captive audience to anything you have to say. Especially about your work, about your projects.”
It had been six months since Viktor had reconnected with Anya – who had more than graciously given him patronage and funding for his own personal projects. In that time he had also met the like-minded inventor, Jayce, with whom he had become fast friends. Between them both, Viktor had considered himself lucky – happy, even – to have people who shared his interests, who understood how he thought and spoke.
“You are cold,” he said, watching as her fingers trembled against her skin. Her species was acclimated to a hotter climate, accounted for in their cultural dress. She wore a soft pink, half sheer dress with a small train that gathered at her feet; it draped off her shoulders and left most of her upper arms and decolletage bare. He regretted that he had no coat to give her.
She looked up at him, her cheeks and the tip of her nose beginning to shine a rosy color; her hands rubbed against her arms to garner warmth. Quietly, she stepped closer to him, brushing herself against his side.
Viktor made no effort to move. He cupped a hand against the back of her shoulder, careful not to lay a finger on her sacred hair; though it had been wrapped in a sheer veil since the incident six months ago. “Don’t you prefer to go inside?”
Anya sighed and looked behind them again – the mindless shuffling of people who regarded each other in little opinion above monetary value. “I would rather be cold,” she looked up at him and chuckled.
He suppressed a laugh and stroked his thumb against her.
“I feel safe here. With you,” Anya said. Her voice hesitated for a fraction of a moment, and she wondered if he found her a fool.
Viktor’s eyes fell captive on her, examining her – searching for any sign of humor or teasing. Women had never been kind to him, they never gave him a second glance. Anya was his friend – this he knew. But still, he wondered. The thought that she would toy with him was almost too much to bear.
Her gaze didn’t leave him, and the longer he remained silent, the quicker she found herself a fool. She was about to break her sight from him, when she felt the warmth of his fingers caressing the side of her face.
Viktor realized, in that moment, he hadn’t felt safe anywhere – or with anyone. He lived with the constant fear and pressure that all he had worked for would be taken from him; that he would fall from the favor of those around him, that his menial success would be short lived, transient. But Anya had been his friend in childhood, and his friend now. With her, he felt safe. Seen.
She leaned closer as his thumb graced the edge of her jaw.
He bowed to her and brushed his nose against hers – she was cold and harsh against his warmth. He dragged his lips against her skin, until they found hers; and gently, he placed a kiss upon her. A wave of delight pulsed through him as he felt her return the gift. He parted only for a moment to find the softness of her eyes – warm and brilliant, stars themselves. They begged him, continue.
His lips rested on hers again, where he gave her small, languid pecks. His hand caressed her arm as he worked his way towards her cheek and jaw – her skin was soft and delicate, she smelled of sweet fruit and precious wood oil. He stroked his face against hers, rolling his head to rest on her brow; he kissed both her eyes and placed another on her mouth. And another on her cheek, and another on her jaw.
Anya rolled her head, granting him permission to trail downwards her neck. Gentle kisses fell onto her throat like soft flower petals, where his breath warmed her from the inside. Her body shivered at the feeling of cold to sudden hot.
He touched her with reverence, each brush of his lips begging entreaty for the next – as if he were saying a prayer. Her hands tangled among his collar and his vest, clinging to the fabric she could reach as he tenderly pressed into her.
Viktor’s hand strayed only to the curve of her side, where it rested above her hip; his fingers massaging the comfort of her figure. He could feel her pulse as he gently graced his tongue across her throat – slower than a human’s, yet quickened for the kind she was – he felt her breath stop as he kissed her vein. Her hands dug into him, but she made not a sound. His body ached that he could bring her to rapture, but it would neither cooperate with his passions, nor his desires.
Yet, even if his body had not been maimed by the effects of his childhood illness, her kind took only one lover for the long centuries of their lives. He knew he would not survive the lifespan of his own species, much less Anya’s. To indulge his longing, despite his love for her, would be nothing more than selfish cruelty.
His mouth rested on her bare shoulder – now warmed by his breath and by her own desire. He trailed his hand up her figure and where it found its way against the thin sleeve of her dress. Again, he speckled her with soft kisses, before his brow rested on the edge of hers, his eyes closed, his breath held. There was no more heart within him to look her in the eye.
Her hands wound along his neck, where light sweat had gathered from the heat underneath his collar. Without him speaking, she knew the thoughts that had crossed his mind – they haunted her, also.
Still, he nestled his nose against hers, and reached to touch his lips upon hers once more, stopping short of her. He waited there, waiting to see if she would answer his call, waiting to see if he was the only one who felt so strongly.
“You are trembling,” she said.
He took a sharp breath in, and shook his head once, unconvincingly. “I am cold.”
She smiled. “No you’re not.”
A dampened smile pulled at him, and he kept his sights from her eyes. “No, I am not.”
Anya had no words to offer him, the same fear inside of him had stirred itself in her, and she struggled to keep it at bay. Her thumbs stroked the edges of his face as her hands lay cupped against his neck. He wouldn’t look at her, but she wished he would. Viktor always had such gentle eyes – full of warmth and curiosity. Even when he was in pain, they were kind.
She reached and met his lips one more time. Deeper this time, desperate, and full of foolish hope – that two hundred years from now, she would remember exactly the way he kissed her. That when his life had disappeared, as a star fades from the night sky, she would remember exactly where to look to find him within her heart.
Viktor clasped her shoulder and sought for even a taste of her – grateful for such a taste of her sweetness, no matter how small, and despite his hunger. He would never forget it.
#viktor#viktor arcane#viktor fanfic#arcane oc#viktor x oc#viktor fanfiction#viktor league of legends#viktor the machine herald#machine herald#oc x viktor#viktor x anya
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Can you do head canons for Silco and Viktor with a super anxious partner?
Pairing: Silco x Gender Neutral! Reader, Viktor x Gender Neutral! Reader
Word Count: 289; 300
Genre: fluff, headcanon
Yes I can! Hope you like what I’ve written and I hope you all request for more Silco & Viktor content if you enjoy my writing style!
Content Warning: anxiety
Silco:
I feel like the man would incredibly patient and understanding with someone anxious. Have you seen the way he handles Jinx when she was stabbing his repeatedly in the face with his eye needle thingy?
So reassuring.
Feeling restless and questioning your every action? He senses it as soon as it happens and is quick to provide the comfort you need to overcome it. Everything else can wait.
Depending on where the two are, his actions differ.
If you are in private, he’ll look at you in your eyes with his mismatched ones and tell you that you’re perfect just the way you are. And that you shouldn’t care about what others think. He’d say those words so softly yet with so much conviction, you find yourself believing it.
“And if they have any sense of survival, they’ll keep their words to themselves.”
It wouldn’t be him without a quick threat to whatever is causing you such distress.
In public, he’d be more subtle in his actions. He would take your hand in his under the table and rub the back of it with his thumb. Very subtle in his actions but the comfort it there.
Also it wouldn’t hurt to flash a stern glare in the direction of the cause of your anxiety, especially if it’s a person. Would wave for someone to get rid of it if it’s an object and the same goes for the person if the time calls for it.
“Get it out of my sight.”
Wants you to know that you have nothing to be anxious about.
Loves you as you are and he wouldn’t change anything for the world.
“My lovely, you are perfect the way you are, everyone else be damned.”
Viktor:
He is a man of science. Of logic.
So trust me when I say he is not lying when he says you shouldn’t be anxious. Would say it in a way that sounds factual, as if it’s a math formula he’s written hundreds of times on paper.
He is patient as he listens to your concern and he understands it theoretically but is unable to truly understand what you have to be anxious of because he doesn’t see it.
You are perfect in his eyes.
Though he does his best to comfort you despite it.
He will cup your face in his non occupied hand and make you look at him as he whispers words of comfort to you.
“What others think of you shouldn’t matter my dear. If you aren’t harming anyone then why should they care?”
He is a problem solver at heart so when he is made aware of your anxiety, the first thing he does *after making sure you’re okay* is to head to the library and do all the research he can to help you overcome it.
He is slower to detect your anxiety cause the man is not the best at noticing things like this but he learns fast to make up for it.
In the comforts of your home, he’d sit you down and have you tell him about the source of your anxiety and he will debunk it without ever being dismissing of your anxiety.
In public, if he detects your anxiety flaring up, he’d come up to your side and hold your hand tightly in his. Letting you know that he’s there and will support you in any way you need him to.
“I’m here love, if you need anything don’t hesitate to let me know. I am here for you.”
If he’s feeling quirky, might suggest running away.
“If you want to, may I suggest allowing me to whisk you away?”
#arcane#silco x reader#silco headcanon#silco fanfic#arcane netflix#silco x oc#viktor#arcane viktor#viktor arcane#arcane league of legends#viktor x you#viktor lol#viktor x y/n#viktor x oc#viktor x reader#silco x you#arcane silco#viktor headcanons
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Distracting: Part 4
You have infected most of Viktors thought by now. And unfortunately he can not find solace in his own home, not when his growing “collection” he realizes, contains a remnant of you that he had forgotten about..and the distraction follows him further then just his brain.
Wordcount: 3,081 (I had too much fun)
THIS CHAPTER IS 18+ MDNI
Warnings: Pining, cute memories, Smut, Solo Viktor, Male masterbation, Viktor being soft and oh so distracted
It wasn't uncommon for Viktor to be locked in his room after returning home, however he was much more annoyed at the current moment then he would usually be.
Now, on any other occasion, one where he found himself stuck between his desk and his bed, he would just continue to his desk. But no, instead he had been standing in the center of his empty room, starting an increasingly aggravating item in his possession.
He held the light weight glass in his grasp, leaned over it while sitting cross legged on his floor..somewhat, his bad leg was stretched out in front of him, it had been aching since he jumped to grab you earlier, another event he was planning on ignoring. He tilted his head as he turned over the glass in his hand, he had not yet noticed the light gold trim at the edge of it, nor the chiseled texture of the handle..it was clearly expensive which only worsened the guilt of having it. He wondered momentarily if he would be in trouble if they came looking for it, however people probably stole from those parties all the time. He knew they did, because at your first ever banquet, he had caught you slipping one of the china plates in your bag.
Viktor chuckled lightly, you were so quick to try and drag him into your scheme after he had caught you. At that point he had only known you about a month, and you had just started being actively social in the lab, mostly with Jayce, however you had said your fair share of ‘good mornings’, ‘goodnights’. It was charming, in a childish kind of way, and despite not assisting you, he hadn’t said anything and you still had the plate in your cabinet. He had seen it when you had invited him and Jayce over for some dinner. He ate off it, but didn’t comment on it, you winked at him and he smiled..
He leaned his head back, looking at the ceiling and analyzing that night as a whole, he recalled dinner, eating, drinking a bit..yes he definitely remembered drinking, because he had woken up in his own bed the next day with the same pain he imagined was felt after falling from a building, all settled in his skull. Lucky for him, he had beat Jayce to the chance of blacking out, so Jayce had gotten the honor of carrying him home. He had spent most of that day dragging himself between his bed and the bathroom, taking many showers, lots of vomit, and lots of sleeping. He had somehow ended up still with one of your scarves in his bed after he had passed out. He had learned from Jayce after asking about it, that he in his inebriated state, had put it on and tied it around his head to do what he thought was a very funny impression of you, but was actually a lot of gibberish and him not being able to stop laughing.
Did he..ever give that back to you? He wasn't sure..but as he stared at the lipstain on the champagne glass again, despite how faded it was after he had secretly drank from it during the nights, he had wondered if you missed it. After all, the cold season would be coming soon, and he couldn't stand the idea of you shivering because he had drunkenly stolen another thing from you..maybe you had a point, maybe he was a little bit of a kleptomaniac.
He groaned as he stood from the floor, grabbing his cane and pulling himself to stand. With a bit of effort he was able to leave his room and head to the hall closet, where he and Jayce kept their winter coats and such when it wasn't cold. With his free hand, he tugged the sliding door to the side and began to filter through the thick collection of fabric that was hanging in the far too small closet. It was truly ridiculous how many things Jayce chose to keep in this thing..but soon enough he had found it. A long, thickly knitted crimson scarf, squishy too the touch and clearly well loved as it was a little beaten up at the ends, or at least he hoped, if moths had eaten away at it while it was in his care, he would be quick to pay for a new one and spend the rest of the cold season trying to make up for ruining your property. He pulled it from its hanging state, feeling the weight of it settle against his palm as he inspected it for any details that would cause him worry, he couldn't remember if he had vomited on it, but either way, it would be polite to wash it before returning it. He sighed, throwing it over his shoulder so he could close the closet..when it hit him.
It wasn't gentle, it was an intense waft of smell that hit his senses. It was honey, lavender..the slight alteration of an oaky, maybe smokey smell that he then recognized as your perfume. He paused, closing the door to shamefully lift the fabric to his nose, not sure if he had any control over the carnal motion of holding it to his skin and inhaling deeply. He had missed the hint of caramel, the kind you always put in your coffee, and probably had spilt on this very scarf. His eyes were closed, senses blurring as the sensation of buzzing settled in his chest and let loose a sigh from him, one he would have hidden if he had noticed Jayce down the hall, apron tied on and holding a spatula covered in fudge from the brownies he had insisted on making that night.
“Vik, what's that you got there? Is it cold in here?” He asked, over the giggling noise of Mel who had arrived without warning to Viktor. She too came into the corner of Viktor Gaze as he yanked away your scarf from his nose and closed the closet the rest of the way.
“No..just remembered something..and wanted to check,” he replied, lazily glancing between Jayce and Mel as he crept toward his room, tossing the deliciously scented scarf too his bed before closing his bedroom door and standing facing it for a moment..He wasn't quite sure what had happened, but the buzzing in his belly had subsided only partly, and he could feel his body craving another huff of what he had just discovered. However he instead moved toward the kitchen, it was better to not feed into something that felt addicting.
He limped into the shared kitchen, seeing Jayce still stirring a bowl of fudgy brown putty, and his..guest as Viktor would put it..lounging on the stool, looking over Jayces work. She turned to smile at Viktor, and he gave his best attempt, despite how aggravating it was to be surprised with company when you didn't want to be.
“Viktor dearest, I couldn't help but notice that scarf you were holding down there,” she hummed, twirling glass of wine in her hand, a much less pretty glass then his he would note, “It looks a bit like the one your other lab assistant work..what was their name?” He was quick to spit your name back at her, almost instantly, like he was waiting for someone to ask. Mel glanced at him, a little spooked, “Yes..yes them. I saw them wearing the Yule ball, is that it?” she asked, sipping his wine with the elegance of a queen.
Viktor had almost forgotten about the Yule ball. Though now that he thought about it, you had worn it then, that was until you took it off and had revealed a golden collar around your neck..purely decorative, however he now wondered if you often wore things like that–
‘Stop that,’ he silently chastised himself, clearing his thirst to give a real answer, “Yes..they had lent it to me a while back..I wanted to pack it in my bag so I can return it” he murrmered, leaning over the sink and filling his usual cup with water.
Jayce giggled lightly, clearly amused by his next words before even saying them, “You gonna write a note for when you return it?” he asked, Viktor furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “Maybe some hearts, an invitation to steal yours next?” he teased, sending heat fast to Viktors face. His hand gripped the cup, avoiding anyones gaze as he stepped to the side,
“Of course not! Why would I ever offer that?” he huffed,
“One of your shirts would fit them pretty nice, don’t you think?” Jayce purred, only barely avoiding the water that spilled from Viktors mouth when he had missed his sip at the thought of you wearing his shirt, all sleepy and comfy, hiding yourself in his clothes,
“You..are an evil man Jayce Talis, a vile and disgusting creature–” Viktor choked, wiping his chin from the spittle that had fallen down it, turning his face away from Mel as she stared at the pair.
Viktor wasn't lucky enough it seems, as he had caught a smirk of understanding spread on mels painted lips. “Has our Viktor found himself a little playmate?” she hummed,
Jayce nodded, mouthing an exaggerated ‘Oh yeah’ which resulted in the hard thump of Viktors cane against his shin. Jayce yelped, hopping on one leg and holding his injured one and settling his forehead against the counter,
“I do not have a ‘playmate” Viktor grunted, tucking his cane back under his arm,
“Are you going to wash it at least? The scarf?” Jayce panted, settling his leg back down and leaning into Mel as she rubbed his shoulder for comfort, like he was a wounded puppy.
“Of course,” Viktor insisted, turning and making his way back down the hallway too retrieve it,
Jayce leaned down the hall as he went, “Hey uh, Mel is gonna sleep over, ok?”
“I assumed,” He yelled back, slipping into his room and closing the door.
As much as he planned to get right to your scarf, he had gotten distracted with what he thought would be a quick adjustment to his notes. He looked up to notice he had somehow ended up filling what was left of his notebook..he sighed, rubbing his temple and lifting himself toward his bed. He needed to sleep, so he tripped what was tight around his form, and rolled into his mattress. He laid on his side, and let out a deep sigh as he settled into the soft sheets..he was much more annoyed to hear the muffled noise of Mel and Jayce on the other side of the wall. He inhaled deeply, covering his head with his hands and trying to block out any further signs of their intense “conversation”.
His breath hitched as the feeling of his back hitting the bedroom door, your form standing close, blocking him from moving away. His gaze was lingering on your face, a bit disheveled from the rush into the apartment. He sighed, cupping your face as you tuck your body closer to him, the velvet of your vest brushing against his chest.
“Janna..your so lovely,” he huffed,
“You're so beautiful Viktor..” You whisper in reply, only to be cut off by the weight of Viktors lips colliding with yours. You both pant into each other, Viktor wrapping his arms tightly around your hip and using the other to cup your jaw, and keep your lips locked in a passionate embrace. Your combined weight sends you both tumbling to the bed. You land almost perfectly, Viktor slotted between your legs and pressing his weight into your pelvis. You let out a pathetic whimper as Viktor grabbed hold of your thigh and tucked it over his hip. He pulled his lips away briefly to mutter your name,
“Your perfection..ever since that party..with that lovely gown..I can't stop thinking about you, about everything you do..” He panted between kisses to your impossibly soft lips, and when he couldn't handle muffling your sounds any longer, he pressed his lips into your throat, greedily licking at your sweat dappled skin as if he would die of thirst. You moan out his name as he rolls himself into you, groaning at the sensation of your plush behind against his bulge.
Your nosies only continued to spill from your throat, each shriller than the next, until he swore you began to sound like the creaking of his bed frame..
The creak of said bedframe is what met him when he fluttered his eyes open and found that rather than your, in his words, ‘Plush behind’, he had dug his hips into one of his pillows..He grunted, pulling himself to sit up and rubbing his face drearily. His brain was foggy, another groan from his bed sending a shutter down his spine and into his hips.
He didn't want to look, but like a drone, his chin dropped to his chest and he was met with the unmistakable outline of his throbbing cock, pressing against the fabric of his boxers. He sighed, falling back to the mattress and combing through his hair with his hand, until he felt a soft texture crush his fingertips. He turned his gaze lazily, his gaze caught on a familiar crimson color. ‘Your damn scarf..’
He reached for it, flushing a bit in the cheeks as he brought it to his face..another instinctual move he had no control over. He deeply inhaled, feeling the smell trickle down his lungs into his stomach. He shuttered lightly, opening his eyes lazily and staring off at the cieling as the sickening feeling of shame flooded into his barely conscious mind. He knew it wouldn't go away, you wouldn't leave his mind, and because of it, his little..not so little, problem would also remain stubbornly active.
He closed his eyes again, maybe if he didnt see the scarf he would feel less guilty about the effect it was having. His hand pressed the fabric closer to his face, the other free hand slowly sneaking over his hip bone and causing him to involuntarily jut upward. He exhaled that first deep breath as the weight of his hand settled against his bulge and sent a muted humm of pleasure into his thighs. He took another moment to move again, a moment to at least settle on what to think about. Of course the only thing in his mind at the moment was you, that excited look on your face from the dream, the way your hair felt between his fingers as he kissed you..his hand slipped beneath his waistband, hurrying top push them down enough that he would ease the ache of his cock that was needily pressing into the now tight fabric. His grasp was light as he held himself, feeling the weight against his palm and considering himself for a moment..
Your voice invaded his imagination, a scripted coo into his ear, a fantasy of your sing songy tone, ‘excited Viktor?~’
His grip tightened around his shaft, he made one slow pass over it, making him inhale sharply through his teeth. He pressed your scarf to his mouth, taking in another intoxicating breath of you, his hand starting its slow, lazy pace as he squeezed his cock lightly with each stroke.
The scarf proved extremely effective in muffling his moan, one he didn't plan on, brought out as he pictured your hand rather than his, rubbing a bit faster. He felt a slight burn, lifting his hand away from his shaft for only so he could drag his tongue over his palm, giving himself a fair bit of saliva to better lube himself up with, before bringing it back to his cock and returning to a less lazy pace. The heat of his saliva brings an image of your perfect lips pressing into him, against his throat, against his hips, his cock.
His hip twitched into his tightening grip, sending an increasingly shocking amount of sensation through his stomach. He was shivering, the smell, your smell was all he could breathe in. It was as addictive as he anticipated it to be, sweet, strong, the intensity of pleasure it brought him was humiliating, especially knowing how much more noticeable it would be when he had to see you tomorrow. He wasn't sure how he would handle seeing you tomorrow.
You had smiled 15 times yesterday, the number tripled after he had touched you..oh and that touch was exquisite. HIs hand quickened, his breath was heavier, and he could feel the rumble of his groans as they sank into the soft fabric against his lips. Janna, he wanted to touch you again. With one touch, he had earned the luxury of knowing that, for a fact, your waist was as soft as he hoped..and the feeling..the squish of your flesh..it was enough to send a whimper from his throat. A shivering sensation spread down into his hips, his thumb pressing teasingly against the swollen head of his cock. He was shaking now, the weight of your body against his palm, he squeezed tighter around his shaft, his pace quickly becoming irregular. He groaned into the scarf, whining helplessly into the soft yarn, sighing shakily. His hips thrusted into his fist, greedily pushing himself toward the edge. He gritted his teeth, arching his back against the mattress as one last memory of you flooded into his psyche..the slight smile on your face after he let go of you, the little lean you made to chase him after it, the smallest sign of your returned affection.
He whimpered your name, the scarf not able to hide it as he held it tight to his chest, and white hot pleasure coursed through his body, down into his stomach and shooting through his hips as warm cum freckled his bare stomach.
His body collapsed into the mattress, his breath heavy and desperate, his release cooling soothingly against his belly as he fluttered his eyes open and started up into the night.
How was he going to look at you tommorow..
He couldn't figure it out in the morning..for now he reached over to his bedside table, gripping cold glass and sipping from the last remnants of your stained glass.
#viktor#viktor arcane#viktor x reader#arcane viktor#viktor x fem!reader#viktor x y/n#viktor x oc#viktor x you#arcane#arcane x you#arcane x reader#arcane x y/n#arcane x female reader#arcane x reader fic#arcane x oc#arcane x gender neutral reader#arcane fanfic#arcane fandom#Viktor x reader smut
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An idea like that :)
The girl could be my oc, your oc, yourself, who you want :) I like thé idea you can use it for your fantaisies :3
Thank you so much for all your kind support T_T
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As Viktor watches whom he assumes are Kerry his safety personal carry Damian inside and place the boy on the table, he cannot help but feel his insides tighten and feel nauseous at the sight. The boy leaving a blood trail wherever he goes. It's a miracle to him that Damian is still conscious.
"Shit, kid", is all he can mutter before he lets his ripperdoc mask take over. No way he could keep his head cool without it. He needs all his knowledge and his hands to be as steady as they can be if he wants to save Damian his life.
[ part 1 ] [ part 2 ] [ part 3 ]
#a little update#I'm dramatic#oc : damian#male v#masc v#cp2077#tw : blood#kerry eurodyne#viktor vektor#cyberpunk 2077#cyberpunk 2077 photomode#cyberpunk2077#cyberpunk 2077 phantom liberty#cp77#cp 77#damian x kerry#please don't hate me
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My Yandere OC Info!! <3
Masterlist Here!!
Here’s some moodboards of my Yandere ocs and general information :) May or may not add more ocs overtime. Stay tuned to find out ;)
Maddox Graves, Outlaw
Yandere Type: Possessive
Age: Mid 30s
Race/Ethnicity: Mexican-American
Personality: Loner, Dangerous, Smooth, Calculated, Flirty
Dante Verona, Ghost
Yandere Type: Obsessive
Age: ???
Race/Ethnicity: Italian
Personality: Selfish, Well Mannered, Desperate, Whiny, Clingy
Viktor Markov, Boxer
Yandere Type: Protective
Age: 24
Race/Ethnicity: Russian
Personality: Quiet, Cold, Strategic, Defensive, Strong
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#x reader#yandere imagines#yandere oc x reader#yandere oc#western#cowboy#dante verona#obsession#maddox graves#viktor markov#moodboard
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