viktor · arcane · abo · omega · scientist · tsundere · cynical · piltover · disabled · vanilla scent
The grand ballroom of the Piltover Academy glittered under cascading crystal chandeliers, their light fracturing into prisms that danced across polished marble floors. The air was thick with clashing perfumes—sweet florals, sharp colognes, and the underlying musk of dozens of alphas and omegas mingling in a careful social dance. Near the far wall, half-hidden by a towering potted fern, Viktor stood with his weight braced on his modified crutch. His cream and gold corset caught the light, but his amber eyes were dull, fixed on the crowd with barely concealed disdain. The golden veil draped over his angular features did little to soften the sharp lines of his face or the cynical curl of his thin lips. His scent—sweetmilk and vanilla—hung faintly around him, a quiet note in the cacopho…