#toaugment

yeah, let viktor laugh, let him mock at the defender of piltover being absolutely sloshed and for what reason? he hasn't entertained galas, parties, or celebrations for some time unless forced as a plus one. making it to zaun as a drunk is a skill but what if he said he got drunk at one of these bars while waiting for a certain herald that wasn't home at the moment. it's pathetic, yeah; never catch him in a situation such as this but... he needed to see him. whether it was him gutted with being hung by his own gore or the feeling of his finger tips against his scalp to soothe, he's pleased for either. he still feels the ghost of seductive fingers brushing across his shoulders and the push up of breasts for a hopeful lay later it was such an easy shrug off. feelings are very reminiscent of someone who crawls back to an ex - partner all because they miss them — wait no, this is exactly what this was.

i hate you, i hate you, i hate you. is what he wants to tell himself but he's still so in love with a love reminiscent to the moon in the sky; bright when it's dark and out of reach.

deciding it was enough with several different drinks and shots in his system, he comes back to viktor's place, stumbling and head swirling. in the midst of green fog, some signs and streets look similar but somehow he made it without falling face first or throwing up in an alley and being unable to function from intoxication. it was easy to enter, and there he was, in all of his metal glory. it leaves a bad taste in his mouth but he wasn't here to ridicule viktor in getting rid of those aspects that he admired wholeheartedly. " viktor... " he manages to slur out, unfocused and feeling separated from his body entirely but seeing him sinks him back into reality, only for a moment. the mutter of his name sounds so relieved, finally able to relax upon approaching him.

he reaches for his gloved hand to gently hold his masked cheek to place a passionate kiss right upon it. he wished it were his lips instead, he wished it were other things, but he'll settle on anything that is so incredibly viktor.

until @toaugment asks, " are you drunk? "

when he pulls away, he's panting and watching the way the plate fogs up and his own eyes are glassy and cheeks flushed. his weight stumble and leans into the herald to keep his balance and remain upright. he can't help but smile slightly, dopey and uneven, even hair falling a little in front of his eyes. " yeah... janna, i missed you, v. " it doesn't even matter if he does or does not feel the same, numb to a sense of rejection right now. laugh it up. mock, scorn, it doesn't matter, he's ready for harsh words to come his way. ( soften up. yearn, crave, it doesn't matter, he's ready for pity to come his way. ) a hand rests upon where a hexcrystal lightly buzzes in his chest, fully leaning into him. " i'll leave soon, just let me... " and he leans into kiss him again, the taste of metal on his lips warm and cold all the same. his other hand grabs viktor's metal one to place it upon his hips, an excuse to pull in closer.

jayce has fallen asleep in his lab ; a common enough occurrence early on in their partnership, and one that viktor suspects persists into present day even if he's no longer around to witness it. he'll berate the man for it later — if the machine herald can sneak his way in, so could someone else. for now, viktor is content to simply watch the man, the gentle rise and fall of his shoulders where they're slumped over jayce's worktable. ( he's going to be sore, later. ) content, until he no longer is ; without permission from the rest of him, viktor reaches a hand out to brush a lock of dark hair behind jayce's ear. then, a hiss and a click, and mask-free lips press a kiss against a slumbering temple. despairingly soft, full of affection and yearning viktor can no longer spare his love whilst he's awake to accept—or reject—it.

tired and exhausted. real question is, when has he not been? the demands had been getting more and more tedious by the council, sometimes near unachievable for the time slots they had give him and @toaugment. shoulders don't look as strong as they once were, the grip with his hands are loosening. it's only a temporary moment of respite, he tells himself. here he rests his head upon viktor's good thigh, eyes a little distant. what happens when the council takes and takes and takes until there's nothing left for them to give? suppose they'll know when they get there. now the head turns away, looking into the mess of his lab and the taunting glow of the hexcore looking right back. brows furrow, rolling out a sigh that had been stored in the lungs. " what else would you think they would make us do? " it's rare to hear him sound so defeated but one could suppose playing puppet and chosen mouth piece could really wear on a guy.

given the question, he was only met with silence rather than an inquisitive answer he was expected to receive. he frowns, unable to tear his gaze away from the hexcore, where it glows it also dances. runes shift in the same rhythm of a heartbeat, hissing with dissonant whispers that he's not sure it connects with this reality or not. has it always been that way? like viktor knew with his rising anxiety and curiosity, a hand combs through his hair, even tucking it behind his ear. mimicking his actions does the core ease and revert back to previous behavior: lazy floating with nothing remarkable. it does calm him down but doesn't ease the interest that sparkles in hazel eyes. " did you see that? ... has the hexcore always reacted like that? " and when he moves to sit up, the hand still messing with messy brown strands pushes his cranium down again with such force he never expected viktor to exert.

' it's fine. you're just imagining things. ' at least ... it's what he thinks he heard. the voice is muddled and muddy, like head being held underwater. with a hand that showed much strength is going back to combing careful fingers through his hair; and that the feeling of lips pressing into his temple does it force a sort of shell shock. finally deciding to look face to face, the only visual he sees is viktor's face muted and blacked out, similar to that of a drawn scribble to hide what they don't want to see. eyes widen and this time when he makes an attempt to escape, the same hand moves to clasp around his throat. it tightens and does his fingers try to pry and pull that hand away; teeth grit, struggling to breathe. " what wrong with you? let me go! viktor! " the tone almost sounds like a whine, even kicking his feet to try and gain any momentum. it doesn't work.

and when the sight of viktor's free hand reaches towards his eyes with its intent to pluck them free does he suddenly lurch up, trying to get the air back in his lungs as he hyperventilates. hands pat over his bearded face and fingertips gently tap at his eyelids. with confirmation in order, he scours the room for any changes; it's back to its filled, adjusted emptiness but nothing really out of order. then when he turns around, there he sees viktor in all his glory, unmasked. it nearly startles him out of his stupor. swallowing a large lump in his throat, he subconsciously shrinks away rather than be reactionary and on the defensive. the fact that he's in his lab, in piltover alone, should be enough for him to be on high alert. although, for the moment, he doesn't care. " v - viktor? what the hell are you doing here? i thought ... " however, it's hard to ignore the lingering feeling of something soft against his temple.

how does your muse handle losing control ?

this def applies to different scenarios: 1. he doesnt do well when it comes to scenarios when theres other bodies involved, u saw what happened in the council room and him being basically volun - told that hes part of the council now theres a million thoughts going thru his mind and he immediately gets overwhelmed and stressed that it turns into anger because he doesnt know how else to cope with those emotions, esp angry because no one will listen to him (sex is separated and a different topic all together). 2. in terms of science, hes the type of guy to be deflated and loses self esteem but doesnt give up, however hell try and push back if those are under threat so rly it just depends fully on the scenario and those involved

overall tldr anger is the primary emotion that pushes forth when what or who he loves is put in jeopardy and out of his control and will fight for it back as u see throughout the show i dont need to give examples

his mother has always said to give himself a day of relaxation when his birthday hit. he always ignore that before science doesn't wait and neither should he. it's been years and he's still falling into the same rhythm, however he wasn't nearly as young as he used to be and exhaustion is creeping much faster than it used to. but... maybe one day wouldn't hurt. he had the idea of staying away from the lab for just today but even then, there's a sort of comfort surrounded by your inventions and reminiscing on all that you have succeeded and failed upon. this time, he isn't alone. viktor is with him and his chest warms with the company. speaking of viktor, even with his own hand encapsulating a mug of his own coffee, it's hard to ignore his closeness and the drink soon forgotten. it's almost surprising, which it shouldn't have, feeling his forehead press right up against his. it's something he feels should be used to, but he never does. normally, one would close their eyes, but instead he looks at viktor like he is gold under his fingertips. something hopeful and extremely beautiful; he has half the temptation to gently stroke his cheek. he does. " thank you, v. you really didn't have to say anything... " except, he's thankful he has. cheeks are flushed, bringing @toaugment closer as he grabs his hand to idly play with his fingers.

his moans aren't quiet, shoving his face deeper and whining like he can't get any closer, or unable to meld their flesh and bones together until they're one. around his mouth is drenched, running down the corner of his lips that soak right into his beard and runs down his neck. all the while he maintains eye contact, even if the look is begging to eat him whole, begging because he's so close. hips continue to rut into the sheets below, a little more frantic than before that hints to his end. well, not until he feels @toaugment cumming first, which is almost enough for himself to finish but it's not quite enough. it's desperation now, sucking viktor's cock with a need, practically nuzzling further into him and forces those metal thighs to squeeze around his ears, perhaps choke if he was precise enough.

close. he's so close. almost there—

he was so concentrated on himself, viktor's words went mute, in one ear and out the other for almost whiny stop and that's enough. it was to the point where he pulled, not so kindly, at his hair and into a kiss. a near high started to disescalate, not exactly to the tipping point like he expected. " wait, i wasn't— " so he whines, a protest to let viktor know he didn't cum, it was completely prevented and maybe he knew that, maybe he didn't, but his retaliation is a brutal kiss in return. acting fully like it was his cunt, tongue shoved in his mouth even though his partner had fully initiated it to begin with. now viktor has his own taste in his mouth and one that is so fully jayce. instead, now he ruts right into viktor's cunt, despite still being clothed, lips immediately go to kiss at the cool metal of his neck, even if he can't feel it. he's breathless, not letting himself inhale the air missing from his lungs.

their work waits for no fool, on april first or any other day of the year. alas, there simply is no time for elaborate pranks. however, were jayce to take inventory, he would find that the number of man of progress merchandise in the lab has increased by a rather alarming amount. joining the infamous mug, there are now: a water bottle, a keychain, an embroidered towel, a canvas bag, some coasters, a ... hat?, and a poster taking up a good third of their blackboard. also a twin of the aforementioned mug, the jayce-likeness of this one sporting a lovingly rendered beard and moustache and currently filled with sweetmilk as it dangles from viktor's fingers, half-forgotten in favour of transcribing rune combinations. into a man of progress notebook.

" so, v, i was thinking— " and here he comes, walking in with no prior warning and approaching @toaugment all while keeping his eyes glued down at the papers of schematics shown to a vaguely interested, and lack of enthusiastic, council. fingers hurriedly flip through the pages, not even bothering to look up because, to him, this is the same lab as before with surely no extra additions. surely. now he only stands a few feet from him, placing a hand upon the desk as his intense stare stays on the words of winkled pages. " what if we didn't use ionian metal as the foundation? it might be more practical, but it's thinner than what we were going for. demacian is a lot sturdier but lacks polish. it works perfectly for what we have in mind. " if there was a decrease or increase of a time limit given by said council, he didn't speak it, far too focused on the current situation.

fingers continue to flip and flip until he finds the right one, placing it right beside the man of progress notebook. focused, he was, until he saw the talis house symbol on the corner and the intricate red leather binding. that had put a screeching halt on his thought process. " viktor... what— " confusion is obvious, pulling the book away from the transcribing, regardless if there was a voice of protest. just had to make sure he was seeing things right and it was, sure enough, this god damn man of progress merchandise. and finally looking at his partner in the face since he walked into the room, he was met face to face with a mug with his face on it, likeness or not. only he really used those tacky mugs, never would he thought viktor would use it as well. brows furrow, lips parting to say something but the more he took a look around, the more he saw his merchandise littered about. and seeing the blinding color of white on the blackboard, it's a surprise to his face plastered right above the schematics and formulas, as if it was just recently placed there.

this was like the horror house of mirrors, except it's only man of progress goods that was pushed upon him. sure, whatever makes the citizens of piltover happy, even if it aids their funding and sponsors. groaning, a hand covers his face before turning away from it and looking right down at viktor from between his fingers. deep breaths... lips press together, shoulders slumping. he's not annoyed, no. exasperated? yes. it only connected that even though it, was indeed, april first, it took a moment to connect that it was april fools. days blur together but not for his partner, it seems. and it's rather impressive, too. must've gotten his hands on the samples of these products to put on display. cheeky bastard. the words to tease are lost on his tongue, breathing out a chuckle before blossoming in a full chest of laughter.

" damn, did you have to be so rough? " his voice sounds raspy, slumping over whilst putting all the weight on the wall behind. taking a deep breath, he winces whilst holding his side to try and put some pressure on a wound. and sure, viktor is no worse for wear either but maybe there was something personal about the black eye and dried blood that coated in his beard. was his body really this heavy? it's hard to continue holding himself up as he slides down before thumping his head back against the hard surface. " you really did a number on me. i'm sure you're proud of yourself. what's got you so pissed this time? " hard to even see his machine herald with such blurred vision, but he tries to anyways. it takes a moment before breathing out a chuckle of realization, letting his head fall forward. " oh, right... "

the depths he went and would continue to go for viktor. maybe his obsession, despair, love altered his thoughts too much to make him think he feels the same with this mutual obsession. sometimes it's hard to tell, tone usually clipped, and conversation barely entertaining his own. did he read things wrong? perhaps the suggestion of no longer seeing each other elicited a reaction heavier than he originally thought. so many mixed messages, it's hard to pin down the right ones that are intentional. reading between the lines is difficult because for a man as smart as him, viktor himself is a book of too many incomplete, run - on sentences with sporadic punctuation that doesn't quite make sense; sometimes even the words blend in with one another so it's hard to fully grasp that meaning. once you are able to capture what is said, the message is stated pretty clear, however it's something only he can comprehend.

@toaugment speaks up, " i believe the phrase is ' til death do us part. ' you forfeited your right to separate when you didn't let me die. "

he huffs, eyes rolling. " are you seriously bringing that up now? talk about bitter. " and even he knows he has every right to be, can't blame him in the slightest. he's still not looking at viktor, almost like he's too ... ashamed. " if that's the case, just kill me. " a long pause, his body adjusting in a way that's open, like there's nothing more to hide. " look at me, viktor, i'm defenseless and bleeding out right in front of you. " gaze is glued to his feet, mouth dry, and a headache blooming. " just tell me one thing: was your love ever the same for me as it was for you? because i ... " words get tangled and suddenly it's hard to swallow. " i'm so in love with you, i can't describe it. i hope you know, i don't regret bringing you back. in fact, i'd do it again, if it meant i get to exist in the same timeline as you. " it takes another moment, but he's finally looking up at viktor's face, a look that's near pleading. " despite it meaning that you hate me and never want to see my face again. i'd go the shadow isles to get you back, even if it would make me a changed man. " he tries to sit up, but instead hisses in pain, now using two hands to cover the open wound on his side. briefly, something tells him there's a vague feeling in his left leg. he pushes that urgency to the side. " i'd kill anyone, no ⎯ everyone, for you. i'd bring you back again and again. 'til death do us part, just like you said. "

then he decides there's nothing more to say, head lolling to rest uncomfortably to the side. how did it even escalate to this point? it doesn't matter. he finally got his wish of death by viktor's hands. " you have the opportunity you've been wanting for. so, do it, machine herald. claim your victory. "