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Vander made a parentified child, Silco made an unstable weapon. Neither fathers were good at their job.

Can’t stop thinking about this:

Vander may have taken in both girls, but he was the father that Vi needed. Willing to teach her how to be a leader, and to make the hard decisions for fighting what you want vs. what is right.

Silco was the father that Jinx needed. Someone who understood her trauma and was willing to accept that and teach her how to learn from it. Someone who accepted her for who she is instead of who people wanted her to be.

IM SO FUCKING LONELY

•Being in a Relationship with Sevika•

Radiates Top energy.

Sevika is a dom. Not a switch. She will never be a willing sub to you either. Not even for one night. Not even if you ask.

Metal arm. The things she can do to you with that metal arm.

You're not going near Shimmer, fuck no. She's not letting you get addicted to that crap.

It's not as though she chose to have Shimmer in her life, after all.

Tries to keep her dirty business away from you.

Loves to have you perch on her lap when she's gambling. You straddling her thick, buff thighs as others watch, jealous and confused.

Sevika loves the reactions from other people, especially men who have tiny egos, when they see you two together.

When they see how devoted you are to her and how possessive she is towards you.

Sevika will flat out kill whoever looks at you the wrong way, makes a pass at you or even thinks about catcalling you.

It makes her very pleased to see how few people don't bother you now since word got around that you're together.

How even when she's not right beside you, just the notorious mention of her name and that you belong to her, is enough to keep scum away.

Though Sevika still secretly worries about you because you are her only weakness and she doesn't want enemies to use you against her.

She will never allow you to be hurt just because you fell into the wrong crowd.

Just because, somehow, astonishingly in her mind, you fell in love with her.

Don't even try asking Sevika to quit her heavy drinking and smoking. It'll be like talking to a brick wall.

But, you've come to find the taste of tobacco and booze on her tongue pretty alluring.

Acts like a tsundere almost. Will act like you bother her, like she's irritated at any attention you give her but inside she secretly enjoys it.

Okay, she actually loves it.

She loves having someone dote on her.

Someone to clean her wounds. Someone who genuinely cares that she comes home safe. That she lives.

And, now in any fight she gets in, all she sees in her mind is you.

Your smile. Your kindness. Your good heart. How she has to live to see you again. Live to keep you safe.

Sevika loves when you beg. She loves the way your bottom lip downturns when you pout.

She likes you needy. Needy for her touch.

Will never say she's sorry in any argument, even when she's in the wrong.

But, after giving you hours of silent treatment, she'll come home and pick you up in her large, dark arms and throw you on the bed.

Her "sorry" will be to make the whole night about you and send you into ecstasy.

Will probably never tell you she loves you outwardly.

Sevika's love language is physical. She will protect you. Fight through all of hell for you. Die for you. But, say those three little words to your face? She'd rather lose her other arm, too.

But, in the early hours of the morning when you're curled up between her caramel colored, muscular arm and the cold metal prosthetic, when she thinks you're asleep, something out of character occurs.

Sevika will actually cuddle you. Her warm, human hand, which is so often rough, will trace the curves of your body. Will tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

In her husky, deep voice she will whisper her affections to you. She'll say it into your skin as she kisses your neck and pulls you even closer into her toned chest.

You will never, ever tell her that you're secretly awake during those rare, tender moments.

Just knowing how loving and romantic she can be, when she thinks you can't hear her, is enough. It melts your heart.

Sevika has a rock hard exterior, damn near bulletproof even but deep, deep down, you've made her soft and her heart is all yours.

愛 🥪𝗝𝗜𝗡𝗫 𝗜𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗦 !? ★ . ｡•̀ᴗ- 🍬 愛らしい. ?

㌛왂ⵑᘓ゜꯭𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀 𝗂𝖿 𝗎 𝗎𝗌𝖾ॽ★ 홭섛 psd:@s-ssweetie ♡

ᩡ 元気 ☆ ᜴ ₊ ༚ ˳ vi(olence)🎸 ҉ ་ ᳝ ॱ 𓈒 𓏸 ࿙࿚۪᤺࿙࿚۪᤺࿙࿚۪᤺

♥︎ or ↻ if u save/use

p𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗒 @cosmuspsd

do not steal pls

Arcane Modern AU Pov: you're Jinx's fave teacher and her dad stops by one day to greet you personally. Oh no, he's hot.

- love and legacy -

ARCANE

Eeee idk if you do requests but I’d love to see ANYTHING Viktor (Arcane) related! 💕

I absolutely take requests and I will ABSOLTELY fulfill this amazing, beautiful, stunning, superb, magnificent one (Viktor's my favorite character too lol)

(I hope headcanons are alright- school just started and I can't really draw anything right now 😭)

Viktor Headcanons!!!

- He's 29-32 when the show takes place

- his favorite color is auburn, but he's not opposed to maroon either

- he doesn't sleep; I know that's canon, but I feel like I have to reiterate

- he's the type to chug a Red Bull at 2:00 a.m. and say shit like: "Alright I'm jazzed!"

- he has a tiny crush on Jayce. So tiny even he doesn't know.

- he's scared of doctors (mainly because the doctors in The Undercity are actual demons)

- he hit Jayce with his cane once because Jayce made fun of his accent

- speaking of, he'll talk to himself in his first language. Sometimes he'll switch mid conversation and not realize

- his favorite food is macarons

- he doesn't mind if someone asks about his limp as long as they're polite.

- if they keep nagging him about it, or are super rude though, then he kinda gets pissed

- genuinely really liked Sky, just didn't know how to admit it

- either that or he was clueless. Take your pick.

- Terrifyed of the hexcore but in the sense that he needs to find out more about it. Sort of like a sick fascination

- he is the king of overworking- has been since he was 12

- he's a little (very) touch-starved. Jayce gave him a hug once and he stood in the same spot for three minutes afterwords

- he had really good parents, just they died from the same lung disease that he has in the show

- likes hot showers. The closer to boiling, the better

- I feel like he's not a cat or a dog person y'know?

- he likes the winter holiday season. The snow and the lights and the joy is really heartwarming to him

Pequeña animación de pow pow y jinx

Heimerdinger : Did you just blow up something in my lab..?

Viktor with literal smoke coming off him: Nah I think it was Jayce

I uploaded it a little late

Well I had a sketch that makes memes lying around and I drew it digitally and it looks like this ^^

I uploaded it a little late

Well I had a sketch that makes memes lying around and I drew it digitally and it looks like this ^^

redesign of an old Time bomb drawing

well I made a drawing of jinx + Valentine from skullgirls I hope you like it ^^ and if you want you can visit my Twitter account I'm more active there https://x.com/D3bli?t=1mNDgqol3fUSG3tyo7cd_A&s=09 ^^ 🐢

some old jayvik kisses from twitter 🌟

The Start of something Dangerous Pt1

Pairing:  Yandere Machine Viktor x F Reader

No under 18's

@anoncat-007 thank you for the interesting fic idea ;)

• ω •

Ideas thrown in the wind #3

Ideas thrown in the wind #3 Pairing:  Yandere Machine! Viktor x F! Reader A/N: Anyone who wants to take one of these ideas of mine and cha

Just a little PSA. This will take place a few years after the events of the end of Arcane Season 1. Whatever happens in this fic is my own musings and not canon. No warnings yet, this is more of a prologue ;) Also, this is my first fic, so I hope you all enjoy.

Part 2 ; Part 3

You slowly sit down at your desk; it’s been a long day and it seems the paperwork just won’t end. You sigh as you take a sip of your fresh coffee, just the thing you need to keep going. The subtle taste of the sweetmilk you use to flavour your coffee brings back both fond and sorrowful memories. You remember the man who you gave your heart to so many years ago, his golden eyes forever embedded into your memories. You see them now almost as if the man himself were standing before you, giving you that same look he did the day you left him and you have to blink back tears at the recollection…

“Viktor, I’m sorry. I just can’t do this anymore. I can’t sit by and watch you kill yourself!”

“Do you have a better solution, my dove? Because it doesn’t seem like anyone else does. Doctors, Jayce, no one has any answers for me. So please, do enlighten me.”

“You know I don’t. I’m not a doctor or a scientist. But I do love you and I wish instead of killing yourself you’d spend what time you have left with those you love. Please Viktor, for me.”

“Can’t you see that’s exactly why I’m doing this. So that I’ll have more time to spend with you. So that I’ll have time to leave behind a legacy, my own legacy. If you love me as you say you do, you would understand this. You would want this for me.”

“I do love you. I will always love you. But I can’t continue to stand by and watch you kill yourself in your pursuit of a Hextech cure for yourself. Goodbye Viktor, I really do hope you find what you’re looking for.”

You remember gently touching his cheek before walking away; that was the last time you saw him, your last memory of him looking at you with something akin to despair in his beautiful golden eyes. Not long after that there was an attack on the council, some kind of bomb launched at the council chambers. Everyone would have died had it not been for councillor Medarda, she somehow felt the incoming bomb and managed to warn everyone to evacuate. Much of the building was destroyed, but buildings can be repaired; the important thing is that no one died that day. That’s the day the war between Piltover and Zaun started, that was also the day Viktor disappeared along with his Hex-claw and some of the Hex Crystals he and Jayce had created.

It had taken years, but things were finally better. A kind of unspoken truce had settled between Piltover and Zaun, even though no one dares cross the bridge unless completely necessary. Jayce has tried many times to get in contact with whomever now rules Zaun, but every time he’s met with hostility and sidestepping; but he swears he won’t stop, he wants a working relationship between Zaun and Piltover.

“Mama! Mama!”

You’re pulled from your reverie by an adorable ten-year-old boy who comes running in, brandishing some sort of contraption in his hands. His chestnut hair is wild and curling in every direction, his golden eyes shining with delight and you can’t help but feel a gentle smile tug at the corners of your lips.

“What is it my little monkey?”

“Mama, look what I made?!”

He hands you the object he was holding and you start to carefully examine it as he watches you intently. You slowly turn it over in your hands, looking at it from every possible angle. It looks like a three-dimensional star, but you can’t really see what it’s for. You smile as you hold it back out to your son.

“It’s very beautiful, does it do anything?”

He grins happily as he takes it, twisting it so that one of the stars points pop open to reveal the empty space inside.

“It’s a jewellery box! I made it for you mama!”

You pull him into a tight hug as you place kisses all over his face and he squeals with joy as he pretends to try and push your face away.

“Moooooom!”

You hear laughter coming from the doorway and you see your best friend standing there, shaking his head at you and your son.

“The poor kid never had a chance.”

Your son turns to look at him and then runs over to hug one of his legs.

“Uncle Jayce! Mom liked her jewellery box!”

“I’m glad. Did you tell her how hard you worked on it?”

Your son nods vigorously before running out of the room and not long after you hear him busy in his room, possibly building something else. You stand up and walk over to Jayce, giving him a welcoming hug. He returns the hug and you feel him let out a sigh, making you smile.

“Long day, Counsellor?”

He slowly releases you, smiling as he nods.

“Too long. But nothing I’m not used to. How about you?”

You lead him to the kitchen, putting the kettle on to boil once more as you and Jayce talk. You both became a lot closer since Viktor left, relying on each other. Your friendship with him became even more important to you once you found out you were pregnant with Viktor’s child. Jayce and Mel both helped through all of it; pregnancy, birth and everything that’s followed since. You even made Jayce your sons godfather and he’s been diligently living up to that role. Jayce has even been teaching him about science and helping him build whatever he can imagine, the little jewellery box his latest invention of sorts. He’s so much like Viktor it makes your heart hurt. He’s smart and brave and if one of his ideas doesn’t work, he keeps at it until it does. And as intelligent as he is he has an even bigger heart; if he isn’t bringing home something he made he brings home some kind of stray animal, staring at you with big doe eyes as he begs you to let him keep it. You love your son more than you ever thought it possible to love another human being.

…

A few weeks pass in relative peace, work consuming most of your time. Today you decide to stop working early and go by the lab to pick up Ambrose, saving Jayce the effort of dropping him off. He’s been spending more and more time with Jayce, becoming kind of his unofficial lab assistant. You three have an understanding; Ambrose goes to school and then he may go to the lab once school is out, but he may only start helping Jayce with his work once his homework is finished. Jayce often tells you of little Ambrose sighing in annoyance at his school work as he rushes to finish it, science far more interesting to him than learning proper grammar or history. You smile now, remembering this as you push open the lab door, knocking on the door frame as you walk in. You notice Jayce sitting at his table, deeply engrossed in his notes as he scribbles furiously and you clear your throat to try and get his attention. His head bobs up and he looks at you, a smile slowly spreading on his lips.

“Y/N, what brings you here today? Miss me that much?”

You feel your brows furrow in confusion as you look at him.

“Where’s Ambrose?”

“What do you mean? He told me yesterday he wasn’t coming. He said you’d asked him to go home after school, that you needed him for something today.”

You feel ice form in your veins as dread seizes your heart. Your face must have told him everything because Jayce suddenly jumps up, looking almost as worried as you feel.

“Fuck. Now it makes sense. He’s been asking about Viktor more and more.”

You narrow your eyes at him.

“And what exactly did you tell him?”

“Only the basics. He was a genius scientist and my best friend and that you both truly loved each other. I also told him Vik came from Zaun but that he did all of his studies here and this is where all of us met.”

Something seems to fall into place in your mind and you turn quickly, rushing out and going home as fast as your feet can carry you. You burst into Ambrose’s room, walking straight to his desk and going through all the papers strewn about, absentmindedly thinking how he’s just as messy as his father. Your fears are confirmed when you find notes on Zaun, maps of some of the areas with notes written in a messy scrawl all of them pointing to one place. An abandoned factory in the dark depths of Zaun with two words written next to it:

“Machine Herald”

The Start of something Dangerous Pt2

Here is a link to Part 1, if you haven't read it yet ;) And here is Part 3

No under 18's

Pairing: Yandere Machine Viktor x F Reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood and gore. Alludes to possible SA/mugging. Some possible angst? And stressful situations.

Note: I wrote this while listening to the Arcane Score soundtrack, so if you want to add to the angst and dread, I suggest listening to that as you read this. Enjoy. Part 3 coming soon.

I named your and Viktor's son Ambrose because if you search the meaning, Ambrose means Immortal or Immortality. Thought it kind of fitting ;)

The door creaks open slowly and out of the corner of his eye he can just see Blitzcrank peak his head inside of his work room. With an audible sigh the Machine Herald looks up at his creation, the mask obscuring the frown on his face.

“What is it Blitzcrank? You know I do not like being disturbed when I’m working.”

“Father unit, there is a child at the door seeking…”

Blitz doesn’t even get a chance to finish his sentence before a child rushes past him causing the Machine Herald to jump to his feet as Blitz tries to grab the small intruding figure, failing as the child nimbly moves out of his grasp and runs to embrace the Machine Heralds leg in what he can only assume is a hug. The child looks up at him with an expectant, almost hopeful look and there’s something familiar about the young face staring up at him. The Herald lets out a huff as he, as gently as is possible for him, tries to extricate his leg from the death grip the child has on it.

“Who are you, child? And why are you here? You don’t seem to need my help?”

“I knew you were alive! And now I’ve found you! Mama is going to be so happy when I tell her!”

…

Your boots thud against the cobbled road as you run towards the bridge, not sure how Ambrose made it across, but knowing him and his determination, if that’s what he wanted to do he would have found a way. You silently curse yourself for being so foolish, an intelligent boy such as himself, of course he would want to see the place his father grew up in; but what does this Machine Herald have to do with that? Even in Piltover you’ve heard talk about him, how he experiments on the residents of Zaun only to leave them disfigured once he’s done with them or grows bored of them. You shudder to think what he might do to your dear Ambrose should he get his hands on him. You ignore the burning in your chest as you start to run even faster, your son’s safety the only thing you care about.

It took a substantial bribe, but you’ve made; “Welcome to Zaun” you think to yourself as you wrap your scarf around your mouth and nose to try and block out the smog clogging the air. Pulling up your dark grey hood you set off deeper into the dark undercity, praying your sense of direction doesn’t fail you as you glance at the map Ambrose had left in his room. You’ve only been here once before, and that time you had Viktor as a guide. You had foolishly accompanied him on his quest to obtain shimmer from an old acquaintance of his in his pursuit to use the Hexcore on himself. You hadn’t wanted him to travel to the undercity alone, even if you didn’t approve of his plans. You sigh as you now try to navigate these twisted roads and alleyways on your own, your heart ready to jump out of your chest at the rate it’s beating. You glance down at the map in your hands, just a few more turns and you should be there, you just pray that Ambrose is safe. You look up from your map as you turn a corner, only to stop dead in your tracks. Your path is blocked by two rather imposing men who suddenly look up at your arrival, stopping whatever discussion they were having.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I think I took a wrong turn.”

As you spin around to leave, you walk straight into the chest of a third man entering the alleyway just behind you. A sturdy arm wraps around your waist to keep you from falling, but doesn’t seem to be letting go now that you’re steady on your feet again. A menacing grin spreads over his face as you try and push him away from you with all of your might. You hear the other two men now start to move closer and you feel panic rising in your throat like bile.

“Let go of me!”

“Now, now. The less you struggle, the faster this will be over.”

“I said let go of me you brute!!”

The three men erupt with laughter at you; weather it’s because of your useless struggling or your feeble attempt at name calling, you can’t be sure. The arm around your waist becomes a crushing vice and you struggle to draw a full breath, hopelessly pushing and swatting at the man holding you. You can hear your own blood pounding in your ears, deafening you to the sounds around you as your fight to free yourself consumes you; when suddenly the arm around you goes slack and the feeling of something warm and viscous sprays onto your face. You open your eyes that you hadn’t even realized you’d shut tight only to be met with some kind of horror in front of you. All three men lay bloodied and bleeding around you, their eyes open and staring at nothing as a small river of red slowly pools around your boots before flowing out into the dark abandoned street of Zaun. You feel your body tense up and as you inhale to let out a scream, something clamps over your mouth. A strange, yet sweet smell fills your nose and lungs and fogs over your brain and suddenly everything goes dark…

The Start of something Dangerous Pt3

Here is Part 1 & Part 2 if you missed it. This is the final part of this fic, I hope you all have enjoyed it. @anoncat-007 @sweetpotato-97

No under 18's

Pairing: Yandere Machine Viktor x F Reader

Warnings: NSFW smut, Angst, Mentions of murder, Strangling. I think that's it... Sorry if forgot something.

Note: I absolutely love Blitzcrank, he's such a good older brother. Wish there was more Blitz content in this. So as I said, this is the final part, and get ready, because it's a long one. ;)

You wake up slowly as you feel someone shaking you softly, trying to stir you from your involuntary slumber. As you are finally able to open your eyes, you see a massive shape looming over you and you somehow by sheer reflex manage to fling yourself to the opposite side of the bed you’re lying on, a small squeak of a scream escaping your lips. The copper golem stares at you, bright blue eyes unblinking as it studies you. It doesn’t seem to be a threat, at least not at the moment. You can’t help but smile as it slowly tilts its head from one side to the other, as if pondering a question.

“It is good you are finally awake, mother unit. Brother has been asking for you. He is currently in the lab; father unit is showing him how he builds the parts to help the people.”

Your eyes widen as you jump to your feet, walking over to the golem you grasp one of his large hands in both of yours, your eyes pleading.

“Please take me to my son.”

He nods and turns, leading you out of the room. As you follow him you notice the height of the ceiling, realising this must be the warehouse on the map from Ambrose’s room; it must have been refurbished to double as a house and workshop. You walk past a kitchen and living room area before the golem turns and climbs up a flight of stairs. He slowly pushes open a door at the top and the sound of your son’s voice drifts out. You quickly push past him, only to freeze in your tracks as the sight before you leaves you stunned. Your son is happily talking to, for lack of a better description, something. A tall figure looms over Ambrose; where the golem has a more rounded body that makes him look jolly, this figure is all metal plates and angles. It looks like a high-tech suit of armour, but it’s more than that. You can make out the flesh of the figures neck fusing with the shoulder piece of the armour and you know it’s his body. There’s some cloth draped over one shoulder and his back like a cape and a loin cloth rests over his hips to hang down between his legs; for modesty or aesthetics, you can’t be sure. His dark hair moves with every turn or nod of his head and you can just make out that he looks to be wearing a mask. The Machine Herald, this is him; and he has your son enraptured, hanging on every word he speaks. You urge your frozen body to move, to push past the fear and dread holding you in place like a vice. With a surge of energy, you quickly cross the distance to push your body in-between that of the Herald and your son, glaring up at him as you reach a hand back to hold your son against you.

“Get away from him! I’m taking my son and we’re leaving.”

You start moving away from him, pulling your son with you as you feel him try to resist, when the Herald speaks up. His voice sounds familiar, curling the words with that accent you love.

“Would you really deprive a father of his son? Especially when we’ve only just met?”

“Vik… Viktor?”

Your son manages to pull free of your grip and run over to him, jumping up and down excitedly.

“Look mama! I found him. I knew he was alive. Aren’t you proud of me?”

Your attention snaps back to your son and you find yourself wresting with a slew of emotions, too many to sort through right now. So, you kneel down slowly, putting yourself at eye level with your son as you try to remain calm and keep your tone even.

“You ran away from home, Ambrose. I was worried about you. You could have gotten hurt, or worse, while trying to get here. Do you understand that?”

Ambrose looks down at his feet, the dejected look on his little face making him look more like the ten-year-old boy he is than the young man he tries to be. The Herald bends down to place a hand on your son’s shoulder, trying to comfort him.

“Perhaps you and Blitzcrank should go to the kitchen for some sweetmilk while your mother and I speak.”

Before you can argue he looks at you and even though he’s wearing a mask, his gaze is so intense that you find your protests dying on your tongue. Ambrose nods and Blitzcrank claps his large metallic hands in delight.

“Sweetmilk for brother. Come! We shall have some brother bonding.”

He leads Ambrose out, leaving you and the Machine Herald alone in the large workroom. The walls are lined with desks over strewn with mechanical equipment and shelves filled with all kinds of metal parts and pieces. Right in the centre of the room is a kind of operating table, the kind you’d expect in a hospital, with a large light on a movable arm hovering above it. A strange thought pops into your head and makes you smile despite yourself.

“I believe greetings are in order, doctor Frankenstein?”

He lets out a soft chuckle before slowly lifting up the mask to reveal his face, his hair falling onto his forehead like it used to. As his golden glowing eyes land on you, a soft gasp escapes your lips. The whites of his eyes are now black and the golden irises emit a soft glow, his skin is still pale, although it seems a bit more ashen now; but it’s still him. He’s alive. You jump to your feet, rushing towards him; you throw your arms around his neck in a tight hug. You feel his arms wrapping around you slowly, cautiously; almost like he’s afraid if he touches you, he’ll realize it’s a mirage. His metal chest is cold and hard against you, and try as you might you can’t ignore that he’s the same, but also vastly different. You let out a sigh as you slowly pull away, putting some space between the two of you so that you can look up at him, look into his eyes. His hands remain at your waist, refusing to let you move too far away.

“So, how much of you is still you and how much is metal?”

He does a slight head cock, the “Eh” leaving his lips like it used to, and immediately you’re reminded of the old Viktor. The Viktor who would get flustered at the slightest compliment. The Viktor who made you a metallic silver rose, because normal roses wilt and die. And even though this Viktor reminds you of your Viktor, he isn’t him, not anymore.

“I had to replace my lungs, for obvious reasons. A few other non-essential organs I also replaced, just for ease and before any other medical issues might take hold. I fused most of my skin with a synthetic alloy I invented. It functions as normal skin would, but it is much more durable. I had to combine my blood with a self-engineered bio-fuel to get the new mechanical organs to function with the normal ones; a difficult, albeit rewarding experience. Luckily my new projects don’t require such extensive alterations. I’ve been successful in making any new organs or limbs work with regular blood supplied by the body. That way my patients don’t need to have their blood suffused regularly, like I do.”

You smile as he continues to speak, apparently the passion he has for his work still gets him carried away with his explanations. He’s always been able to ramble on and on about whatever he’s working on, trying to explain it to you or whomever might want to hear. Your own musings are suddenly interrupted when you feel his warm breath on your neck, just below your ear as he whispers:

“But I made sure to save your favourite parts of me. My face; because I remember how much you enjoyed caressing my beauty spots whenever we were in bed together, lying in each other’s arms. My heart, because it has always been yours. And lastly, the one part of me that always managed to make you scream my name.”

One of his hands slide off your waist to grasp your hand and place it firmly between his legs. You feel, beneath that damn loin cloth, his cock twitching and hot as your palm presses over it. A quiet “Fuck” escapes your lips as you close your eyes, involuntary memories of days spent in his bed playing across your eyelids. You feel his lips graze over your cheek, leaving a burning trail across your skin, before planting a feverish kiss on your lips. You wrap your arms around his neck once more, one of your hands knotting in his hair as you return the kiss. You kiss him with all the love and longing for him that you had kept locked up inside of your heart all these years. Tears sting your eyes as he holds you tightly against his chest, lifting you up off of the floor to place more kisses along your neck and jaw before returning to your mouth. You feel your longing for him bleed down your body to a more intimate part of yourself, a moan escaping your lips and he moans in return. You open your eyes and the heat of his gaze is enough to pull another moan from you.

“Viktor. I need you.”

With one arm he sweeps everything off of the desk next to him, placing you on top of it in a sitting position. He kneels in front of you, pulling off your pants with rushed and shaking hands before his head disappears between your legs as his hands move under your knees to hook your legs over his shoulders. You let out a ragged breath in a hiss as you feel his tongue flick over your clit, already warm and soaked from your arousal. You hear him moan in appreciation as his lips close around your clit to suck on it, the action makes your head snap back as your back arches, his name leaving your lips like a prayer and a curse. His head moves back so he can look up at you, a devilish smile on his face.

“Remove the rest of your clothes for me, my dove?”

Your hands happily oblige before your mind can even fully process the request and you feel him move to stand between your legs, his loin cloth now removed. His hands slowly hook your legs over his hips as he leans in to take one of your now bare nipples into his mouth. His tongue is warm as it swirls around your nipple while he sucks on it. His hands rest on your hips, holding you in place on the edge of the table as he rubs his throbbing cock between your folds. His mouth releases your nipple to place kisses up your chest and in your neck, the cold air a stark contrast to his warm mouth. He moans against the skin of your throat, his lips vibrating with the sound.

“You’re perfect. My beautiful love.”

He kisses you then as he starts to push his cock inside of you, achingly slowly. You kiss him feverishly, a mess of lips and tongues as your hands find hold in his hair, like a grounding element to keep your soul from soaring away from all the pleasure you feel. You feel him fill you perfectly, like you were made for each other; before he pulls out only to repeat the process, igniting a spark in your belly that shoots up your spine. It isn’t long before you feel that familiar sensation, like standing on a precipice before suddenly falling. You feel his name leave your lips as you constrict around his cock, your ecstasy taking over as you reach your climax. You vaguely hear him whispering your name into your hair as you feel yourself come down from your high, his arms wrapped around you to hold you against his chest. You feel him shaking slightly as his own climax starts to subside and he kisses your hair, simply holding you. You sigh contentedly when something catches your eye; a rust-coloured stain on his cape, just past his shoulder. Images come flooding back to your memory; the men lying in the alleyway, bleeding out. The cold hand clamping over your mouth to press the rag over your nose, and the glimpse of a mask with golden eyes before the world went dark. You pull away suddenly, as much as you can in your current position; to stare up at him with wide eyes.

“It was you. You killed those men!”

He sighs, sounding slightly annoyed as he pulls out of you, leaving you feeling strangely empty. You climb off the table to grab your clothes, praying your knees don’t give in after what just transpired between the two of you.

“They were going to kill you Y/N. What was I supposed to do? Let them?”

You manage to grab your shirt and pull it on, trying to cover up your naked body and recover some of your modesty. Viktor doesn’t seem to have the same qualms, his loin cloth lying forgotten on the floor as he paces slightly.

“Eh, honestly, I was hoping you wouldn’t even remember that whole ordeal. The substance I used to render you unconscious was supposed to cause short term memory loss.”

You stare at him incredulously, his blasé attitude towards human life leaving you feeling stunned.

“You could have simply stopped them! You didn’t need to kill them.”

He lets out a huff as he turns his full gaze back to rest on you, no longer pacing.

“Do not fool yourself Y/N. This is Zaun. They would not hesitate to kill you, so why should I hesitate to do the same?”

You shake your head as you gather the rest of your clothes, trying to get dressed quickly.

“If that’s how easy it is for you to kill someone, then Ambrose and I won’t be staying. I won’t let my son…”

He’s on you in the blink of an eye, a hand wrapping around your throat to hold you in place as a third arm appears from under his cloak to train a glowing eye on you. He attached the Hex-claw to his back it seems.

“OUR son. Our son that you chose not to tell me about. That you chose to keep from me. No, my dear Y/N, you and OUR son won’t be going anywhere. This is your home now.”

You desperately claw at his hand, trying to remove it from your throat as your lungs beg for air.

“Vik… Please…”

He relaxes his grip, but only slightly, and you greedily suck air into your body as your lungs burn from the strain. His eyes harden as he looks down at you, his voice gaining a tinge of venom as he speaks.

“You are mine. You walked away from me once because I was too weak to stop you. Never again.”

You glare up at him, the tone of your voice matching his.

“Jayce will come looking for us.”

He surprises you by laughing.

“Then I will kill him. No one will take you from me. Do you understand now Y/N?”

He pulls you close to lean in and say into your ear as you hear Ambrose laughing in the hallway with Blitzcrank.

“You. Are. Mine.”