cheeriecherry

[cheeriecherry]

Incorrigible Flirts And Besweatered Men [Chapter 7]

Pairing: TA!Viktor x fem!Reader Rating: T Warnings: None? Viktor is affectionate but thats not a warning Proofread: Lol no. no beta we die like men Chapter Summary: Time has passed quickly, and the date of your cousin’s wedding has arrived. You and Viktor depart for the event, and find a surprise when you check into your hotel.

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#viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #arcane x reader #new blog hype

[cheeriecherry]

Incorrigible Flirts And Besweatered Men [Chapter 3]

Pairing: TA!Viktor x fem!Reader Rating: T Warnings: None that I’m aware of Proofread: Not even a little bit Chapter Summary: You and Viktor meet up outside of class, you tell him about your problems, and he tells you about the time he had a crush on a woman he’d never even spoken to.

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#new blog hype

[cheeriecherry]

Incorrigible Flirts And Besweatered Men [Chapter 2]

Pairing: TA!Viktor x fem!Reader Rating: T Warnings: None that I can think of Proofread: Not even a tiny bit Chapter Summary: You enter friend territory with Viktor, get an email that might change your future, and get asked on a date (but it’s not actually a date).

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#new blog hype

[cheeriecherry]

Incorrigible Flirts And Besweatered Men [Chapter 1]

Pairing: TA!Viktor x Fem!Reader Warning: reader being an incorrigible flirt, Viktor being shy as hell Rating: T (so far) Summary: Your Professor’s assistant is cute as hell, which sucks for him, because you’re going to eat him alive (in a good way).

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#new blog hype

[cheeriecherry]

Basically Zero {Viktor x Reader}

Pairing: Viktor x Reader Warnings: a couple of swears Rating: T Fandom: Arcane Proofread: heck no Genre: Fluff

Summary: Viktor is snowballing, and unable to figure out why you love him. You try your best to help him.

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#new blog hype

[cheeriecherry]

Jayce baking a cherry pie!

When you walk in the door of your apartment, you don’t expect the entire hallway to be cloudy and filled with smoke. You’re exhausted after another fourteen-hour work day: your feet hurt, your back hurts, everything hurts and you want nothing more than to peel your dusty clothes off and crawl into bed to wait for your boyfriend to come home. Except you can’t, because your hallway is filled with smoke.

Alarm courses through your body, and you immediately run further into your apartment, dropping your shoulder bag along the way. Had you left a candle burning? Had the stove been on all day? Did a lightbulb burst? You wrack your brain for answers with every step you take, trying in vain to figure out where the fire was - hell, maybe it was smoke coming up through the vents from your downstairs neighbor.

What you don’t expect to find upon entering the kitchen -the apparent source of the burnt mist- is your boyfriend, hastily trying to fan the smoke out an open window using a baking sheet. Your panic is replaced with confusion, and you stand there silently, trying to figure out what the hell is going on.

He eventually notices you standing in the doorway, and his expression goes from panicked to sheepish, and he comes over to greet you with a kiss on the cheek. “I was trying to surprise you,” he explains, without a prompting question. “You’ve been working so hard lately, I thought maybe something sweet might cheer you up. But uh…” he gestures towards a pie tin - that you’re only just noticing - as well as the…pie…within it. You assume it’s a pie, at least.

Despite the mess around the kitchen, and the putrid mist filling the apartment, a smile stretches across your lips. “Thank you for trying,” you tell him, and pull him down into another soft kiss. “Next time, though, maybe we can pick a pie up from a bakery instead?”

#new blog hype #jayce x reader #come send me some requests over there

[cheeriecherry]

i’m tentatively adding Jayce to the character list for requests!

just please be gentle with me im still getting a feel for him

#new blog hype #come send some requests over there if you'd like

[cheeriecherry]

Prompt: Viktor forgetting his childhood friend (Pt 3)

You sit in disbelief, across from Viktor at the one-person dining table set up in his dorm. Neither of you can really figure out what to say to each other, with the truth now in the light: years of bitterness and anger and hurt dammed up inside you, dissolving in mere seconds. You have questions, dozens of them, but they’re drowned out by the sheer amplitude of your new feelings. 

As if sensing your confusion, Viktor reaches across the table and takes one of your tense, shaking hands into his own. “You…truly never got my messages?” he asks, “Any of them?” His tone is soft, and you can tell he’s trying to remain level and neutral, but you know him. You know him, and you can hear the despair hidden within his lilt: despair that passes into his warm amber eyes, when you shake your head to confirm.

“I would have come to you if I had gotten them,” you mumble, meeting his gaze with your own. “You know that, don’t you?” When he remains silent, you sigh, “Viktor, you can’t honestly believe that after everything we’d been through, I’d just…let you go? You’re the first person I’ve ever loved, and the only person I’ve ever trusted. You’re…” you trail off, unable to find the words to express yourself. Instead, you turn your hand in his grip, and link your fingers together.

“I should have known better,” he chastises himself, even as the barest hint of a smile dances onto his features. “I should have known that you wouldn’t leave. Not after so many years together, not after…eh, but you perhaps do not remember that. Even now, when you believed I had abandoned you, you still…came back.” Mischief lights up in his eyes, and he squeezes your fingers slightly. “Even though I suspect your reasons were more along the lines of revenge - what did you have planned for me?” You wiggle in his grip, the both of you devolving into a game of thumb wars: you’re stronger overall, but he’d always been more dextrous - proven once again as he traps your digit beneath his own and manages to count to five. 

“I don’t know,” you admit, pulling your hand away to dramatically stretch your fingers out after defeat. “I was so angry that you left, so hurt, that I- wait hold on,” you pause, “Viktor, what do you mean I ‘wouldn’t remember that’?” His cheeks tinge pink, and you have half the mind to pinch his ear until he talks. “What wouldn’t I remember, Viktor?”

#new blog new post! #shameless advertising for my new blog

[cheeriecherry]

im so small and tired 

[cheeriecherry]

New Blog!

I’ve moved pretty much all of my recent stuff over! 

If you guys have any requests, send them over there! I’ll be working on emptying my inbox out for this account, but I’ll be posting those requests on the new blog! Don’t worry though, to anyone who has requested anything. I’ll answer your ask with a link to the request on the new blog <3

New blog @cheeriecherrymain

#new blog #cherry news

[cheeriecherry]

more characters maybe + potentially moving blogs

If I were to expand the five somethings prompts to other characters as well, who would you guys most want to read about?

This is theoretical though. I’m only considering expanding the character list to Beyond Just Viktor, but if I can get a feel for who you guys might want to request, then I can potentially do some deep dives into character studies.

News: I am slowly recovering from illness, and slowly working on fics!

About the ‘moving blogs’ thing. So this blog where I post all my fics is a Side Blog - meaning I can’t reply to any of you guys when you leave cute messages on my fics. But I really really want to! I want to engage with this sweet little community we’ve got, but I’m Chronically Nervous about people knowing who I actually am.

I have my face and name on my main blog, and so many random posts, old stuff, and people I know in real life. I know we’re all weird little goblins here on this site, and I love that for us; I also still struggle with letting people see my ‘cringe’ interests - they’re not cringe, I’m just absolutely terrified of judgement, and that’s another reason why I like having a separate fic blog. I’m able to sort of like, I dunno, compartmentalize my stress?

Fandom is stressful, and I have -in the past- had interactions with some not so nice people. And I love writing, but I also fear being judged for my creations, even though they’re just harmless fun. Having a separate space for my fics, and working under an alias, allows me to do the writing I enjoy without taking personally any snide remarks that might come.

All this to say: people scare me and I want some anonymity while still being able to engage with you guys and do some goofs.

So again this is still something I’m only considering, but would you guys be cool with this blog moving over to another account? Not closing, or deleting anything, just. Reposting everything over in one big go (or several small goes), leaving links to the new blog, and basically letting cobwebs collect on the current blog.

Thank you all for taking the time to read!

#you guys can answer in replies #or drop an answer in an ask #i have anon available #i know some of you have social anxiety (myself included) #cherry updates

[cheeriecherry]

are the five sentence prompts still open? also your little music posts are so sweet, they get me excited to read more chapters <3

omg yes ofc! Requests are still open, I'm just being extra slow right now because covid has reached my house and everyone is sick, myself included.

I'm okay though, I have all my boosters and my immune system is functioning as it's supposed to - I just feel like I'm being eaten by an octopus while I get better.

Also thank you sweet bean! I'm good at playing other people's music, but im still pretty new to writing and improvising my own! So im glad you like the simple little things my brain cooks up <3

#cherry asks #five somethings prompts

[cheeriecherry]

my keyboard stand broke while playing this and you can hear exactly where it made me fuck up

anyways i swear im writing the next chapter of The Lonely im just very slow and diseased rn

#The Lonely #cherry music #at this rate im going to have an entire shitty album

[cheeriecherry]

eyy more shitty music for my own fanfic that no one asked for

👉😎👉

#the lonely #cherry music #thank god for midi keyboards otherwise you guys would just hear me coughing

[cheeriecherry]

I had a fic idea during my most recent covid-induced nap, and i was so excited to write it, i sat up and jotted it down thinking ‘yes this is gonna be so good’.

well im awake now and i forget what i wanted to write and my notes that i thought were good are useless

transcription: suspicon drink -> weird dream stuff

because yes thats so helpful thanks brain

#i dont like being sick #my brain is hairy #cherry news

[cheeriecherry]

I have a request!! Viktor being dommy and then giving the reader the sweetest aftercare ever

Not Explicit, but still incredibly suggestive. MDNI! 18+

Your entire body is shaking, nerves lit up like stars and sending waves of warmth from head to toe. It isn’t often that Viktor spoils you like this - he is, of course, always a generous lover - but rarely is he able to take several hours to focus solely on you: touching you, kissing you, whispering sweet words and sweeter promises right into your ear. Promises of pleasure, of comfort and closeness, promises to make you forget yourself and all that ails you. It’s easy to give in to his desires, with how easily they align to your own.

Once the tingling warmth within you begins to fade, though, your other senses awaken. You begin to hear the world outside your room again, and feel the scratch of soft restraints at your wrists. You can’t see anything yet, which you’re grateful for; you’re not sure you could handle the sudden onslaught of feelings, sounds and sights.

“Easy, my love,” Viktor is quiet as he reappears at your side, the bed dipping as he takes a seat. He presses a kiss to your bare shoulder, and lets his fingertips wander down your arms; until he reaches your wrists and deftly unties the silk ribbons he’d decorated you with. Once you’re free, you slouch back against him and whine until he wraps his arms around you.

Vaguely, you feel him beginning to prod at the blindfold he had you in, but you quickly reach up to stop him. He’s only confused for a second, and ends up laying another gentle kiss to your cheek. “Still overwhelmed, dear?” he asks, pulling you closer so he can better ease the aches out of your body. His touch wanders down your sides, almost ticklish, and across your thighs; thumbs digging into your lower back and over your hips, rubbing small circles into the various knots you’ve accumulated over the week.

You hum in contentment, even as he runs a warm cloth over your most sensitive areas and momentarily chills you, his presence is soothing and steady. “Would you like some more?” he asks, tapping at the blindfold still shielding your eyes, “Or is the light just bothersome?” You quietly tell him that no, you’re fully spent and satisfied, but you’d prefer to rest a little more how you are now. And Viktor, ever the loving boyfriend, does as you wish - gets comfortable on the bed and pulls you down with him, brushing your hair out of your face to pepper you in kisses. “Whatever you want,” he says to you, barely loud enough to hear, “I would give you whatever you asked me for. Always.”

#viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #arcane x reader #five somethings prompts #prompts are still open!

[cheeriecherry]

The Lonely [Chapter Seven]

Pairing: Viktor x fem!Reader Warnings: blood, accidental murder, you briefly get impaled, mentions of depression/not wanting to live, dramatics on both your and Viktor’s parts,  Fandom: Arcane Proofread: no lol

Chapter Summary: You have a bad day and the Viktor tries to make it better.

Three weeks have passed since Viktor woke up after you turned him. As you expected, he’s been a little cranky and terse in your few interactions, so you’ve been leaving him well enough alone. You know better than anyone what it’s like to suddenly have the world come alive around you, new sights and smells and sounds that never end; it’s beautiful, but wholeheartedly overwhelming for the first little while.

What surprises you is how well he’s handling it all: yes, he’s a little unpleasant to converse with at the moment, but he’s been quiet and comfortable so far - holed up in the library to read and study, equipped with those silly teething rings you’d gotten him and a mini-fridge full of blood bags. It’s a little unsettling how easily he’s able to fall back into his old lifestyle, but you’re trying to keep an open mind - you’d been forced into vampirism: Viktor had chosen this.

But you still have guilt weighing heavily on your shoulders, negative thoughts crowding and swirling around in your mind. Typically you’d just push them down, or distract yourself with other tasks, but nothing…feels right. You don’t need to sleep, and yet you find yourself lacking the energy to do more than just sit on a chair in the scullery and watch the snow fall through the window. Or maybe you lack the motivation? The most daunting task you have on hand is draining the basement, but you’ve got a hundred other things piled up on your list.

Why can’t you just pick one?

You sigh deeply, deep in the tangled mess of your thoughts. Apparently you’re loud enough that your friend hears you, though, even from all the way up in the library: he appears in the doorway most suddenly, startling you so badly that you pitch sideways out of your chair.

You glare up at him from the floor with halfhearted malice, and he offers you a hand as well as an apologetic smile.

“I didn’t mean to catch you at unawares,” he says, helping you to your feet. “Though you must be…incredibly distracted, not to have heard me approach. Are you alright?”

The genuine concern in his tone is what really ties your stomach in knots: you’ve been giving him space while he adjusts to his new life, but without his presence to aid your generally sour mood, you’ve been…spiraling. In the few months you’ve known him, you’ve gotten used to him as a presence in your life, and to not have him around - even temporarily, and for his own good - you’re lonely.

You want to see him every day; talk to him, learn with him, laugh with him, witness him thrive! You want to be there for all his new discoveries and triumphs, you want to listen to him excitedly dump facts about alchemy and science, you want…him. You want him, and it makes you feel guilty, and nauseous, and horrible. He’s going through so much, and for you to throw all your feelings at him in a time of vulnerability-

“Y/N?”

The sound of his voice brings you out of your head, and you snap back to the present with a small smile. “I’m fine,” you assure him, though it’s obvious he doesn’t believe you. You persist anyways, telling him, “I think I just need to hunt, is all. You know how scratchy the feeling gets.”

Viktor finds a seat in the chair beside you, and his cool hand finds a place on your thigh - meant to be a comforting gesture, you know, but if you had a heartbeat, it would certainly be fluttering in your chest.

“We have blood in the fridge,” he says softly.

You shake your head, pat his hand with your own, and try to offer him the same unconvincing smile. “That’s your blood, sweetheart,” you say gently, “It’s harder to get in bags, so we can’t go around wasting it while I’m able to catch my own.”

His fingers dig into your thigh. “We’ve got plenty. I just had some this morning-”

“I need to hunt, Viktor.”

The sharpness of your tone surprises both of you into silence, and you sigh again. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been…a little grouchy, lately.”

“So there is something bothering you, then?”

You crinkle your nose up. You don’t really want to tell him about everything you’ve been feeling; you know you should, and that he would definitely want to try and help you, but…would he blame himself at all? For being unavailable to you, even though he’d just had his life drastically altered? 

It’s not his job to look after me, you decide.

“I’m restless,” you tell him, and it’s only half a lie. “Bagged blood is good when you’ve first turned - it’s easier to control yourself - but eventually the desire to… chase prey… arises. I need to let some energy out.”

He seems a little more convinced with this explanation, though the narrowing of his eyes makes you think that he knows there’s something you’re not telling him.

He doesn’t mention it, in any case, and you’re not going to jump at the chance to spill your secrets.

You rise from the chair, and Viktor lets his hand fall back into his own lap. You give him a quick kiss on the forehead, promise that you’ll be back before dinner, and disappear out the door into the snow.

___

Hikers are always your favourite type of meal. They’re easy to come by, since the land all around you is full of winding and meandering trails, and they’re easy to locate: they make so much noise tromping around in the underbrush, especially in the winter when everything is frozen and crisp. They’re the best tasting kind of human, deliciously warm, and with their hearts pumping hard in their chests.

Thinking about it as you wander along a secluded forest trail makes your teeth ache and the edges of your vision fade to black. Admittedly, you haven’t been the best at taking care of yourself in centuries past; going too long between meals, and making your hunts too primal and uncontrollable. You’d still managed to save the few people you had taken too much from, but it was questionable how their lives had fared afterwards - had they had a fruitful existence? Or had your momentary lapse in self awareness caused them to always be left behind?

You had never really enjoyed hunting. It satisfied the instinctual need to sink your teeth into a living creature, but it wasn’t pleasing by any means. You could never get into it like your father had: he had loved seeing the fear in the eyes of humans, and hearing them plead and beg as he bit into them and bled them dry. He’d tried time and time again to get you to take the same pleasure in the hunt, but you were steadfast and stubborn.

How different would you have been, if you’d been what he wanted you to be? Would you have turned Viktor with ease? Would you have even taken him in? Hell, would you have even stayed cooped up in an old castle all these years, or would you still be out in the world?

Your head throbs, and the corners of your vision darken again. Maybe Viktor had been right, earlier, when he’d suggested having some blood from a bag: you were in no state of mind to be hunting right now - not if you didn’t want to lose control and hurt someone.

You turn on your heel to head back home, only to freeze when you finally realize there’s someone standing behind you. A man maybe a little taller than you, donning typical winter walking gear as well as a surprised expression.

He looks somewhat wary as he watches you, not making any moves to come closer, but still too curious to turn the other way and run. You must be quite the sight, you think: hair a mess, and wearing nothing more than thin brown leggings and a billowing cotton shirt.

“Are you okay?” the man asks, swallowing thickly. You can see the pulse in his neck, hear how steady his heart is in his chest, and your head pounds again, darkness creeping further into your line of sight.

“Are you lost?” he wonders again, taking a couple steps towards you, “Jesus, you’ve gotta be freezing. I can take you back to town, though it’s a ways…shit, do you have anywhere to go-”

All at once, he stops pacing forward, stops talking, and stares at you. Something in your posture must have changed, the way you can feel your control slipping: he knows you’re a threat. His heart rate has nearly doubled, as if he’s realized his impending demise.

You try to fight against your instincts, try to stay where you are.

You take a step towards him.

He takes a step back.

You take another step.

He barely has time to turn around before you’re on him, tackling him into the snow in a flurry of hissing and shouting. The man struggles, wiggling and kicking and trying to throw you off, but you’re too strong: you pin his arms and sink your teeth into his neck, and then it’s only a matter of time before he goes limp. You’ve not given him enough venom to turn him, only to temporarily tranquilize him; he won’t even realize what’s happening while you feast on him.

His blood is bitter on your tongue, though. It’s as fresh as it can possibly be, and yet it does little to sate your constant thirst - it’s thin and watery, and doesn’t call to you the same way Viktor’s blood had. Though in your experience, no one has ever drawn you in like he has; not a human, nor a vampire.

You pause as you hear a soft click a little ways away, the darkness in your vision just beginning to fade, and not a second later, pain blooms hot in your shoulder.

You drop the man in your grasp, and stare down at the spot on your chest that now pinches and burns. You’ve been shot in the back, you realize, when you see some of your skin rising to a point just below your clavicle. The barest hint of silver - the head of a crossbow bolt - pokes through your skin.

Someone shot you.

All at once, the darkness that had been clouding your mind throughout the morning boils to red, and you feel your last shred of control snap in half.

It takes only a couple seconds to find the other person, hidden up in a tree some thirty feet away, cursing and complaining about ‘missing the shot’. You want to wonder what he means, but you’re fading.

The last thing you see before you’re consumed by red, is the face of a frightened man as you knock him out of a tree.

___

You come back to awareness slowly, as if waking from a deep slumber. You feel the tickle of your hair against your neck, and the scratch of tree bark on your arm. It’s quiet, you note, with not a sound of bird or mouse. The air is fresh - cold, even - and the soft ping of snowflakes on your skin rouses you further.

When you finally open your eyes, it’s dark. Not completely dark - not with your enhanced vision - but there is no light of moon or stars; the sky is cloudy, a dim orange reflecting down from the distant city lights.

You stir a little, tensing with a soft groan when pain radiates across your chest and down your arm.

What happened?

You look around blearily, trying to figure out where you are and what you’d been doing, and your gaze settles on a dark lump not far from you. Partially covered in snow, completely still and silent, but something about the shape is not quite organic to the forest.

You crawl towards the mass, ignoring the sharp sting across your torso, and settle beside it. You don’t need to touch it to realize what it is: you can smell the stale blood lingering in the air, as well as the beginnings of decay. Part of your mind vaguely remembers toppling the now-deceased man from up in a tree…but you’re not sure what killed him. Was it the fall? Or was it blood loss, after you drained him?

You push yourself away from the corpse, and shakily rise to your feet. You’re deep in the forest, and it’s snowing hard. No one would find the evidence of your crimes until at least the spring, when the ice would melt and the body would begin rotting faster. Even if you left tracks tonight, they would be covered by morning.

You nod to yourself, still dazed, and start off in the direction you know is home. You feel like you’re forgetting something, but with everything that’s happened, you just want to be back safe within the walls of your castle.

___

You walk quietly in through the front door, closing and barring the grand wooden slab behind you. You vaguely register Viktor calling to you, but you don’t reply; you’re in a haze, and you only have one thing on your mind.

Walking into the kitchen, you drag one of the knit rugs up off the floor, revealing a metal hatch laid into the stone. Viktor calls to you again, closer this time, and you continue to ignore him, instead pulling the little latch up and descending down the flight of stairs beneath it.

It’s not a particularly large cellar, nor is there much stored in it anymore. You kicked your habit of daydrinking nearly a century ago, but so many years on your own had left the poor wine racks nearly empty, and covered in dirt and dust. Shit, you weren’t even sure if the stuff was still good.

But regardless of what may be inside it, you select a large bottle and carry it back up into the kitchen, kicking the hatch closed behind you and haphazardly tossing the rug back over it.

A catch of breath sounds from behind you, and you flick your gaze towards Viktor, who is standing shocked in the doorway.

“Hello,” you rasp, pulling at the cork in the bottle. When it doesn’t come free, you hiss in frustration and wrap your hand around the neck, snapping the head clean off. The tiniest bit of wine spills, splashing down your hand, but you’ve no mind to care. You bring the jagged edge to your lips.

“What happened?” Viktor croaks, coming closer to you, his eyes wide. “You’re covered in blood- and is that an arrow in your shoulder?”

You take a long swig of wine, which had definitely soured sometime in the past two hundred years, and shrug.

“I got shot,” you say nonchalantly.

“I can see that. What the hell happened?”

You stare at him for a couple seconds, and then sigh.

“I fucked up, Viktor. I fucked up. I was cranky, and thirsty, and I was going to come home, and-” the memories come flooding back, “Fuck, I lost control, and I- I got shot, and- and-”

Your voice quivers harder with every word you speak, so you elect to take another couple mouthfuls of wine.

Viktor slowly makes his way to your side, and finally gets a decent look at the bolt protruding out of your right shoulder. He doesn’t ask about the person who shot you, knowing full well what ‘losing control’ means: instead he gently takes the bottle from your hands, and focuses on the thin rod stuck in your body.

You complain a little bit, reaching out for your drink, but he holds it well out of your grasp. “Consuming an entire bottle of questionable sixteenth century wine will not help your condition,” he says, shushing you when you try to argue, “But removing the, ah… debris from your shoulder will.”

You frown at him, but help him remove your bloodied shirt nonetheless, dropping it to the floor in a heap.

Viktor’s touch is gentle, as he studies the wound and assailing object. Even when he tugs on the bolt to test how stuck it is, he barely causes you any pain; you’re not sure if it’s because you’re still so out of it, or if it’s because he’s genuinely so careful with you.

He moves around to poke at the front of your body, where the tip of the arrow just barely pokes through your skin, and you watch him carefully. It miffs you, how little you can sense about him now. His cheeks don’t flush that pretty pink, and his heart can’t quicken in his chest anymore. You can’t tell if he’s totally focused on helping you, or if he’s just uninterested in the fact that you’re shirtless in front of him.

“It’s barbed,” he mumbles, dropping his hands away from you so he can pace around the kitchen. “Getting the bolt back out is going to be…unpleasant. If it were further through your body, we could pull it out easier, but-”

“Just push it through,” you say, and Viktor pauses mid-step.

“Just- excuse me?”

“Just push it the rest of the way through, and yoink it out,” you say again.

Viktor looks at you as if you’ve grown a second head. “I’m not going to impale you!”

“Pity.”

“You!” He pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance, “Are in a decidedly foul mood.”

You throw your arms up, ignoring the sting in your shoulder. “I wonder why!” you nearly yell, “Maybe because I murdered someone? Actually, no, I think I murdered two someones, but I don’t fucking remember!”

“It’s not just tonight, Y/N! You’ve been unpleasant ever since-” he takes a breath, and his next words are calmer, “-ever since you turned me.”

You roll your eyes, and march over to the nearest stone wall. Viktor watches you in question for a couple seconds, and by the time he realizes what you’re doing, you’ve already slammed your back - and the crossbow bolt - against it. It pierces easily through your skin, and you rip it the rest of the way out before he can do anything.

“I’m fine,” you say, gesturing to the hole that is swiftly knitting itself shut. “I’m already healing-”

In a flurry of movement, Viktor shoves you back against the wall. He’s strong enough now that his grip on your arms makes your bones ache, and you can’t escape no matter how much you wiggle.

“Whether or not you’re healing is beside the point,” he hisses, anger lighting up in his eyes, “By the gods, why are you always so ready and willing to hurt yourself?”

You pause, your own malice fizzling away at his words, and all at once a deep sadness replaces it. Tears well up in your eyes, no matter how hard you fight them, and tumble down your cheeks. “Because I’m old and I want to die, Viktor. And I can’t. And now I’ve condemned you to the same fate, and I- I’ve killed people, and- and- I don’t deserve good things!”

As your words sink in, his grip on your arms loosens to naught but a gentle touch, and the rage fades from his eyes as he lets his head fall forward to rest in the crook of your neck. “You still think you’ve damned me,” he mumbles, breath cool on your skin.

You say nothing, trembling harshly as you fight against the sobs bubbling in your chest.

Viktor releases his grip on your arms, pulling back a few inches to instead take your face in his hands. All the anger is gone from his expression, an unnamed intensity rising up in its stead. “I will say this as many times as I have to. Every day, if that is what it takes: my pain is gone because of you. I can breathe because of you. I am alive because of you. You have given me life beyond what I ever thought possible, and I intend to savor its many pleasures.”

He draws you closer, resting his forehead against yours, thumbing away the tears that leave tracks down your cheeks.

“However long it takes for you to believe me, I will wait,” he continues, “I will stay here in this old castle, gathering what knowledge it provides, and one day when you deem me ready, I will bring all of it to the world.”

Panic shoots through you at his suggestion of leaving, but he’s quick to calm you, “And wherever I go, I will take you along with me. We can see what lays beyond this castle, the moor, the sleepy little town down the hill. We can go anywhere you want, experience anything. We can get out of your father’s shadow, and away from the horrors he’s left behind.”

“Just…please,” He swipes the final tear from under your eye, “Zlatíčko, say you’ll stay with me, and try to let the world back in? However long it takes, just…try?”

Overcome with emotion, enticed by his pretty words and soft touch, you close the distance he’s kept between you. You kiss him, in a way so unlike the first; no longer are you reassuring him in a moment of panic, but seeking such a thing from him instead. He pulls you closer, his fingers knitting together behind your neck, and leans into you, pressing you against the wall.

He parts from you a couple moments later, leaving a trail of tiny kisses across your jaw and down your neck, to where he noses at your collarbone. His shallow breaths tickle at your skin, and you shiver at the sensation.

“I would have you right here,” he mumbles, pressing a mischievous kiss to your skin, “but I think we need to talk first. Perhaps after a bath, if you’re amenable?”

#The Lonely #viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #arcane x reader #vampire!reader #vampire!viktor #inappropriate settings for declarations of love #im hellbent on making this so fucking dramatic #and a tiny bit of plot if you squint