Rain

Could you do a Diluc x reader (one sided on readers part) and she sees he falls out of love with her (inspired by La gata bajo la lluvia-Rocío Durcal) make it as angsty as you can!! 🥲🤲

𝓛𝓪 𝓰𝓪𝓽𝓪 𝓫𝓪𝓳𝓸 𝓵𝓪 𝓵𝓵𝓾𝓿𝓲𝓪

(Diluc x g/n reader angst Songfic)

Note: finally finished this. it feels maybe a little repetitive at the end but I'm still satisfied with it overall. the lyrics might be a bit off because I had to get the translation for it and that might not be totally accurate! Anyways enjoy and criticism and reblogs are appreciated!!!! requests are open!

TW: nothing much just angst no comfort, not proofread :<

“My love don't worry I wont bother you, and I know there's a torrent running through your mind”

He was different, ever since he had come back. You could feel the distance between you two. The words left unsaid, the late nights at the tavern, the times you woke up in the middle of the night and he wasn't in the bed, the way his smile strained when he looked at you. It had been quite some time since you guys went on any dates, or even just sat down to eat breakfast together. The distance between you two expanded every day and all you did is watch, watch as the love of your life drifted away from you.

“Don't fear there's no reason ,I don't blame you for the past.”

You watched him build his walls.. He quit the knights. He pushed Kaeya away too. When he had told you that he needed to go away from Monstadt to clear his mind, you had thought it would be fine, that he just needed space after his father's accident. And though you wanted to be there for him, if he wanted to mourn alone, you would respect that. “I'll be waiting for you when you come back, no matter how long it takes”, you had told him. It took months, and he returned but also not at the same time. It was as if he had aged decades in that time. He was no longer the Diluc you that had fallen for you. You had smiled and hugged him, tears falling from your eyes, and he had hugged you back too, but his embrace no longer felt warm. You had held hope, maybe things would get better, he just needed some time, things would return to normal. And now, as you sat in the empty room you and him shared, it finally hit you, things were never going to be the same. 

"Love, I know, honestly don't say anything. If you see any tears, I'm sorry I know that you didn't want to make an injured cat cry." 

You were going to end things with him. It wasn't because you didn't love him anymore. No, far from it, you loved him too much, and he, didn't love you enough. Not anymore. But you knew he didn't want the same hurt you. Even after everything you knew he was still that kind boy you had fallen for, the one who would rather stay with you even when he didn't have feelings for you anymore just so you won't get hurt. But you couldn't do that to him. To chain him down. Maybe this was your last gift to him, your last act of love. You were going to let him go, even if it would tear your soul apart to do so.

“Love, if one day , we see each other out there, invite me to a coffee and make me love”

You stood in front of your house, with your bags packed, the rain falling on you. It made your heart clench. The memories you had with him flooding your mind. You felt like a cat in the rain, left outside, with no purpose or home. Because that is what he was to you, home. You had left a letter on the table, breaking it off and telling him to not look for you. It had hurt so much to write those bitter words, but for him you'd do anything. You were going to leave Monstadt and go far away, so that you could not convince yourself to change your mind. Maybe one day you’d return, when both of you have grown and his wounds wouldn’t hurt so much anymore. Maybe he would finally let you nurse them. Let you in again. Maybe one day you would be home again.

I remember now. In my own little sad delusion, reader keeps the ring and wears it all the time on the precious finger meant for a special someone. If asked about it she’d say her fiancé made it for her/or alternatively if she feels too guilty for even claiming Viktor as her fiancé she says a close friend of hers made it.

I feel as if though she’d never marry and keep to herself, letting herself reflect and her guilt and dark thoughts shift as she grieves him. The sad memories become one that she smiles at again. She visits his grave and talks to him on a daily basis, updating him on her daily life. But she would never seek the affection of someone else as he holds her heart in his hands, and he doesn’t even know it yet.

She’d work a normal life, just like she’d used to. Hex tech completely lost and forgotten as Jayce destroyed it, no longer letting the lingering thoughts of expanding its use cloud his mind. He’ll eventually confine in reader and ask him about their past in which they bond over that. As the years go by they become friends that share a mutual friend.

Jayce eventually asks about the ring, thinking she’d moved on only come to find out that it was made by yours truly. Reader shares the memory of what happened with a sad smile.

“After all those years I thought he’d forgotten about me. Turns out he didn’t. Lover boy just kept his feeling for me bottled up, and didn’t even tell me. Not until I caught him drunk with Sky…” she sighs, nimble fingers playing with the ring that adorned her finger.

The ring. A symbol of what they meant to each other. First loves. Childhood friends. Family.

“Makes you wish you could reverse time and take it all back. But you can’t, and now I have to live with that darned memory.”

“To be fair, I don’t think he ever forgave himself for that. If he was still here, and the both of you had married, I’d bring that memory up all the time and tease him about it. He’s probably rolling in his grave right now.” Jayce chuckled and pat her shoulder.

She smiled and slipped the ring off. She handed it to him to observe. The inside of it had their names carved into it, albeit messily. The familiar handwriting of the once scientist they knew and cared for.

“Had we married I’d have taken his name. No one in Zaun has a last name. I didn’t think there was a need for them, and I still don’t. But if I’m being honest right now, having the name he’d come up with would be a big deal for me.”

“You know I never asked him what his name was. I’d written it down as a reminder but it slipped my mind. If you don’t mind me asking, why do people from the undercity not have last names?” The man had scratched the back of his nape.

“I don’t know. It could be because we aren’t people of status, but it didn’t matter to us. But having one… it’s intimate. Knowing you share a last name with someone means a lot. Whether you’re married, or adopted into a family, it means that you’re loved, and you’re intertwined in that love.” She smiled at him.

“Moss agate?!? Why’d he choose that as the stone?”

She chuckled and leaned over to caress the ring. “Moss agate… is fueled with a lot of meaning. Abundance, prosperity, and new beginnings.”

“When we were younger, Viktor was the odd one out. Even in Zaun being different was the easiest way to be singled out. His cane caused him to be looked down upon. It’s not his fault, I don’t know how us children survived down there.”

“I didn’t even realize that I was his only friend, it only occurred to me a few days later after I saw him down by our spot bright and early. Only thing with him was his cane, the boat, and a few other tools and scraps of gears.”

“I didn’t ask him, nor tell him that I knew he was alone, but I think he knew I found out that same moment we locked eyes. He grew a bit flustered but that was all.” She snorted as she imagined his full face growing embarrassed.

“He was mainly quiet unless I asked him about what he was going to make next. He’d usually just listen to me yap about what was going on. It was mainly about what I saw at Vander’s bar, The Last Drop.” She plucked the ring out of Jayces grasp and slipped it back on.

It was slightly tight but she wasn’t going to go ahead and modify it. She loved the simple ring as it was, in all it imperfections because it came from the one person she’d always love.

“It looks like he always had an abundance of love for me no matter how far apart we were. In his journal, he kept a newspaper clipping of me. He wrote sweet nothings on that page dedicated to me. ‘So proud of you,’ ‘knew you could make it,’ things like that.” She kept the more heartfelt words to herself.

“Who knew he was such a sap.” Jayce jibbed, a small smile gracing his lips.

“When we were younger, he always thought highly of me. He knew that I’d become who I am now in Piltover. Even when I didn’t believe in myself, he’d always think of me as bright.”

“When we met Singed… everything changed. We were always friends and nothing would ever change that, but Singed thought of me as a distraction to Vik. “

“You should’ve seen his pouty face. I could tell he took offense, and though it did sting to hear that about myself I swallows my feelings down. Viktor was about to stand up for me but this was his chance to.. well… get out of there.”

“Wait so that’s who he was talking about?” Jayce screeched.

“Talking about who? Singed?”

“Yeah, he was trying to tinker with the hex core, but said he’d consult with someone he knew. Ultimately, he said he never went through with the deal.”

“Mhm. After a failed experiment, Viktor didn’t trust him after that. He came to me a bit upset, but bottled his feelings up just so that he wouldn’t sour the mood for me.”

“It’s one of the last few conversations we had with each other before he left to the topside. After that you know how it goes.”

“I can’t dwell on the past. What’s happened, happened. But it doesn’t stop anything from hurting.” She looked up at Jayce with tears in her eyes and wiped them as they cascaded down her cheeks.

“Is it selfish of me to want to go back in time and keep him from reaching his dream of becoming something bigger in Piltover? Keep him from meeting singed? Keep him from leaving?”

“Maybe a little.” He jested. It bought a soft snort out of her.

“Maybe then we’d make it together, without having to be separated, to stay together. Move in together, get proposed to, plan for the big day, spend the rest of our lives together, possible start a family. Maybe he’d still be here, with us…” she choked down a sob.

“There no guarantee for that outcome. We started Hextech for that reason and…” he trailed off.

“Do you think in another lifetime.. he’s alive and well? Happy?”

“I do, but I know that he’s beating himself up right now seeing you cry because of him.”

“He never was a fan of me crying over him. Even when we were younger he’d always try his best to cheer me up and make up with me. He’d even let me do his hair as I pleased.” She sniffled.

“Anything for his girl.” Jayce rubbed circles on her shoulder as she curled into his warm embrace, needing the consoling.

“Anything for me.”

My Atlantis, We Fall | Finale

Part 1. Part 2.

Summary: A childhood friendship between Viktor and you grow into unspoken love, but your paths diverge when Viktor left you behind. Still heartbroken, you unexpectedly reunite during Progress Day after years, only to cause more heartbreak.

Pairing: Viktor Arcane X Female Reader, she/her pronouns

Warnings: ANGST, death, made up last name for Viktor, no mentions of Y/N.

Words: 6.3k

A/N: I really hope you like how this ended as much as I did! And thank you so much for 1k followers! I went from 600 to 1.1k in a span of 3 days 😭 Y'all are crazy for the viktorussyyy

The rain fell in relentlessly. Each droplet is a cold mnemonic of the rage and fear in your heart after what you just saw. The same droplets pressed Viktor's hair against his forehead and ran down his hollow cheeks like tears he was unable to shed. It was enough to sober him up.

You strode down the cobblestone street, footsteps splashing into shallow puddles of water. Viktor's irregular steps resonated behind you, his walking stick struggled to grip the slippery surface. He looked utterly lost. Vulnerable. A man stripped of his intellect. It reflected the agitation within him, but he didn't care if he'd stumble to the ground again and let the pavement scratch his skin just to catch you. Not right now. “Would you please stop walking away and talk to me?!” The loudness of his voice broke through the roaring storm, piercing its way through the wind to envelop you.

You froze mid-step, shoulders tensing as if his words had hit you physically. His words worsened the anger inside you. You kept on moving, the rain blurring your vision.

“Please!” he called again, and this time, the pain in his voice drew you back, completely halting you in your tracks. You turned sharply, water splashing from your drenched clothing, it mirrored the landslide of emotions breaking free from inside of you. Your chest heaved with each breath; tears mixed with the rain as you locked onto Viktor's gaze. His eyes were filled with desperation, glowing like orange lanterns in the middle of this storm. “Me?!” You sneered, a sense of bitterness lingering in the atmosphere. “You’re seriously the one talking about walking away? About communication?! Do you even hear yourself, Viktor?!” You stepped closer to his face, voice rising. You could see each detail of his face now; their beauty remains evident even amid all the gloom, but you didn't let them distract you. “Did you forget what you did? Or have you just convinced yourself they didn't matter?” Viktor flinched, as if each word was an arrow pointed straight to his heart. He opened his mouth, only to close it again, shame smothering him in the silence.

“I remember,” he said after the pause, his tone careful. “I remember everything. I remember them every single day.” You laughed, “Oh, do you? Then you must recall leaving without so much as a word. Treating me like I was a puzzle to solve only to discard me as soon as I didn’t align with your bigger plan!” Your voice cracked, the hurt threatening to overflow like the rain around you. “Like I was disposable...” His breath hitched, shaking his head in disagreement with what you had said. His grip on his cane tightening until his knuckles turned white. “You were never disposable—”

"Then why did you make me feel like so?" You cut him off.

Viktor paused, taking a small time to take in the look in your face caused by his actions. “I just... I thought… I thought I was doing the right thing. That if I let you go, I could—” He halted, words choking him. “I thought it would protect you. That you would be safer. Happier without me.” “Protect me?” you mocked, almost closing the distance. “You hurt me, Viktor! You didn’t protect me! You shattered me!”

You thought his response was completely ridiculous. But did you genuinely believe that thought? It was clear that your anger is distorting your perspective again. Still, you have every right to feel that way. His face crumpled as your words struck home, his free hand reaching for you but stopping, trembling. “I know,” he said hoarsely. “I know what I did to you. There’s no excuse, no justification that could ever make it right. But please… please let me try to explain.”

"Just go easy on him, alright? He’s not great at these things." Jayce's words echoed in your thoughts, bringing back the image of Viktor coughing and bleeding. You never wanted to imagine it again. It felt as though it was your own care and affection for Viktor reaching out to you, urging you to truly listen to him. That beneath the anger, your love for him that had never fully disappeared was talking to you.

“Go ahead, then. Explain. Tell me why it was okay to tear my heart apart and just let me live with it.” You crossed your arms tightly over your chest, feeling a chill that were more from the sight of him rather than from the cold air.

He took a cautious step forward, but this time you didn't pull back. You’re closer to him than ever before that you can smell his musky scent, so close that you can nearly tune into his thoughts and feel the rhythm of his heartbeat. His eyes filled with vulnerability, and deep inside you can feel them pinching your heart.

“I was a fool,” he began, briefly looking down before focusing on your gaze once more. “I- I told myself I was being selfless, letting you go for your sake. But the truth is, I was terrified of what you made me feel. As we grew older, it also grew more seriously inside me. That scared me. I was scared that those emotions would derail me from dreams. Dreams that I would sacrifice my life for. And I was a coward for that."

His words were like a glimpse of hope in your confusion. You could sense how heavy they were and almost feel his struggle. But then, Viktor paused, remembering another mistake he had made.

“What you saw up there… with Sky... I am so sorry. I was drunk. No, I am drunk.” Viktor chuckled and scratched his head, feeling embarrassed as he recalled his recent actions. “I thought I saw you. I thought it was you kissing me.” He took a deep, shaky breath. “But it wasn’t you. It was her. It was a mistake, a horrible mistake, and it hurts me to know that I let myself forget you for even a moment. I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted anyone else, not after what we shared. I was trying to make myself feel something, anything, other than the pain of losing you. But all I did was make everything worse.”

This hit you deeply, making your chest feel tight, but it wasn’t enough. You still had barriers up, barriers that Viktor's words had not yet broken through.

As his words lingered in the air, your emotions swirled. You're still hurt, but you were validated. You couldn't put it into words, but the next words that came out of Viktor's mouth were both surprising and somehow anticipated.

He hesitated, eyes filled with everything he had kept inside. “I have struggled... in vain,” he began, “I’ve fought against this... against you. But I can bear it no longer..."

Countless thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to predict Viktor's next words while allowing him to keep speaking.

"The past years have been nothing but torment. I thought I was doing the right thing. I only intended to protect you.” His voice faltered as he took a step closer, as if you two weren't already close enough. His gaze softened, searching yours. “But I was wrong.”

Viktor cupped your face gently, his hands fitting the curves of your skin as if they were meant to be there, as if the Gods made them to touch you in this way. Every delicate contour of your facial structure seemed to align perfectly with each line of his palms, like another way of promising you his love if not through words.

His hands remained steady against your skin to which you subconsciously leaned onto, eyes fluttering closed as you exhaled softly. "Viktor, please..."

His touch soothed the storm inside you. So intimate, so real.

You waited for him to speak again, breath caught in your chest.

Viktor swallowed hard as the words finally came out, tears gathering around his eyes. “Please, end my agony... I... I love you.”

Those three words struck you like a speeding bullet train, each one ringing in your chest. They were impossible to ignore. His touch, his words—they were enough to lift the burden you carried for years.

But even with that weight gone, there was still something else lingering deep inside you.

Doubt.

The kind of doubt that was seeded long ago, as though it was permanent. The kind that couldn’t be erased with just three words, no matter how heartfelt they are.

You smiled, but it wasn’t the smile Viktor hoped for. It wasn’t the soft, tender response he had imagined after pouring his heart out to you.

No, it was something else. It was a smile that spoke more of deflection. The kind of smile that said, 'nice try'. The kind that concealed the sensitivity still flowing within you, and beneath that, a hint of doubt.

"If you really love me then you shouldn't have left me."

୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ

The weeks that followed were unfriendly to Viktor, as if the universe had conspired to reflect the torture he felt inside.

He buried himself in his research, and the lab became more of a prison than a shelter. The spark of his amber eyes has now been replaced by a hollow stare of sleepless nights.

The edges of his frame were frail. His already lean figure was exposed, with skin appearing even more pale. Dark circles etched themselves under his eyes and bruises of his own making from the nights he spent pouring every inch of his body into the study instead of rest.

His lips, once soft and quick to curl upward into a smile, are now chapped and pushed into a line. Clothes hung loosely over him, and the fabric of his coat looked heavier than the man wearing it. As he coughed, a deep, ragged sound would scrape off of his lungs, with random nose bleeds occurring here and there—Jayce noticing even more crimson specks smearing his handkerchief.

Still, Viktor dismissed everyone.

He denied recognizing the physical impact his work had on him and dismissed the worries with a feigned nonchalance. Now, his focus was singular: perfecting his research and proving that his sacrifice was not in vain.

But his hands trembled day by day, and the tension of lifting his tools became almost impossible. The recognizable sound of his cane hitting the floor now stands as a touching reminder of his deteriorating health.

୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ

For several weeks, the rain kept pouring. It seemed like the weather understood your and Viktor's feelings.

You were savoring a warm cup of tea when gentle knocks vibrated at your door.

You hesitated before answering. Upon opening it, Sky stood there, drenched and shivering. Her eyes red as though she had been crying.

You gripped the doorframe, eyes rolling and your jaw clenching. “What do you want?” you asked coldly, the sight of her bringing back memories that you're still trying to forget.

Sky fidgeted, fingers twisting together nervously. “Look, I know I’m the last person you want to see right now,” she began, her voice barely audible over the rain. “But I need to talk to you. Please. It’s about Viktor.”

Just hearing his name triggered an unwelcome pain that cut through the walls of your living room. You moved to close the door, unwilling to entertain whatever she had to say, but her hand shot out, gripping it with strength that caught you off guard.

"Excuse me?" You scoffed.

She cried out, “Please, just hear me out. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.”

Ugh.

With hesitation, you moved aside and nodded you head toward the living room for her to enter, your arms crossed as you observed her walk into your house. Her wet clothes left a trail of water on the floor, but she seemed oblivious, her focus entirely on you. She looked smaller than you remembered, her confidence was replaced by an almost childlike vulnerability.

“I’m really sorry,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “For everything. For the kiss… for the way I acted. I didn’t mean for any of it to happen.”

For the second time today, you rolled your eyes, lips curled into a bitter smile. “Is that why you’re here? To apologize? I've been trying to erase that from my memory, so if you're just here to remind me about it then please, feel free to leave.”

Sky shook her head no, hands clenching into fists at her sides. “No. I- I’m not here to make excuses. I know what I did was wrong, and I know how much it hurt you. But you need to know the truth.” She took a shaky breath, her eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that was almost uncomfortable. “I’ve liked Viktor for as long as I can remember. For years, I thought… I thought maybe he could feel the same way about me because we're always together. But that night… that kiss… I know he wasn’t thinking of me.” Her voice broke and she looked away, cheeks flushing with shame. “He was thinking of you."

Yeah, I know.

Her words lingered, combining affirmation and hurt. “Is that why you’re here?” you asked, your tone sharp. “To tell me that Viktor loves me? I- How do you even know me?”

Sky’s eyes filled with tears, her composure finally breaking.

“No,” she whispered. “I’m here because Viktor is dying.”

Viktor is dying.

The words played over and over in your mind. They are louder each time, drowning out everything else. The idea of losing him permanently this time made your stomach twist painfully. Tears threatened to spill, but you fought hard to blink them away.

Viktor’s “I love you," from a few weeks ago came back to your senses. They were never quite enough to erase all the anger, pain, and doubt he had left behind. Those three words were supposed to heal, but they didn’t; they couldn’t. They weren’t strong enough to undo the hurt.

But now, this another set of three words hit you harder than you thought possible. They weren’t warm or hopeful. They didn’t carry promises of love or second chances.

Yet somehow, they did what his “I love you” couldn’t.

Those three words, so opposite in meaning, tore through every bitter thought and resentment you held.

All they left behind was the truth that none of the hurt mattered anymore.

None.

You couldn’t lose him. Not now. Not like this.

Sky's words stole the air from your lungs. “W- what?” you managed to choke out.

Sky took a step closer, seemingly wanting to offer you some comfort. “He’s in the hospital. Jayce took him there after he collapsed. He… he’s not doing well.”

You wanted to say something, anything, but your thoughts were in a tangle of mess. Words failed you as you reached for your coat, the overwhelming need to get to Viktor as soon as possible overriding everything else.

You were halfway to the door, hand trembling on the handle, when Sky’s voice broke through your chaotic blur. “Wait… before I forget,” she said, the tone almost nervous.

You turned to face her, your impatience barely masked. Sky fumbled through her bag, pulling out a small blue leather-bound notebook. Its edges scuffed, and its cover worn with age. Her hands were shaking as she extended it toward you.

“This is his,” Sky spoke gently, her voice shaking in a way that reflected the quiver of her hands. “When Viktor left it on his table, I… I opened it. It was a few years ago. I wasn’t trying to invade his privacy. I was just looking for research notes, trying to understand what he was working on. But I found this instead.”

You paused, gazing at the notebook as if it were delicate. "What’s this?" you inquired, voice softer than you meant it to be. Your brows knitted together in confusion, questioning why she felt it was so important to hand this to you right now when every second counted.

We don't have time for this.

Sky looked down, as if she couldn’t bear to meet your eyes. Her fingers lingered on the edge of the notebook before letting it go, pressing it into your hands. “It’s… it’s about you,” she admitted. “You asked me how I know about you, right? This is why. Just… just read it when you can. You’ll understand.”

For a moment, the room was silent except for the muffled rain against your windows. You looked down at the notebook in your hands, its weight suddenly heavier than it had any right to be. Brushing the worn edges, your mind buzzed with questions you didn’t have the time or courage to ask.

What could possibly be in here that Sky believed you needed to see?

But there wasn’t any time to dwell on it now. The fear in your chest wouldn’t let you linger in here any longer.

Viktor's dying, and every second wasted felt like a step closer to losing him.

You clutched the notebook tightly before leaving it on your coffee table, a strange feeling of hope in your gut.

Whatever it contained, it could wait.

Right now, there was only one thing that mattered. You had to get to him.

The journey to the hospital seemed to stretch endlessly, with each second feeling longer than the one before. What should have been a simple fifteen-minute ride felt like it took forever. It was as if the outside world had faded away, leaving only the chaos in your head.

Your eyes were fixed on nothing, your focus lost while the unrelenting motion of the Piltover transport only made your anxiety worse. A heavy dread weighed on you, as if something terrible was already unfolding and you were already too late.

At last, the vehicle stopped.

As soon as it did, you bolted out the door, the cold air hitting you. Frantically, you paced toward the hospital entrance, feet struggling to keep up with the other. Your chest felt drawn in and every breath was a challenge.

You could feel your heart racing painfully in your throat, in your ears, and in your head. Each pound threatening to choke you. Your legs were worn out from running, yet you couldn’t stop. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you swallowed them down, forcing them back. Not now. Not yet.

Viktor needed you, and you had to be strong, even if every part of you wanted to crumble. The hospital doors loomed ahead, the sterile smell of it filling your nose. With each step, the uncertainty bore down on you more severely, causing your legs to shake as you neared the reception.

Please, don’t be too late. Please, don’t be too late. Please, don’t be too late.

The thought circled in your mind like a chant, you could've sworn you were going insane.

You found the room—his room.

Your heartbeat so loudly in your chest you could barely hear your own footsteps, but the sight in front of you stole the breath from your lungs. The door to his room swung open with a force you didn’t even realize you had, the sharp sound of it startling the nurses who clustered around Viktor’s bed.

Their heads snapped toward you in a synchronized motion, as though your entrance was both expected and unwelcome.

They didn’t even try to move out of your way. You didn’t know if they were trying to shield you from the sight of him or if it was a sudden reflex to prevent you from seeing what you already feared.

Your feet felt frozen to the ground as you stood there. You couldn’t even take in the full picture of Viktor. His form pale and still under the lights of the hospital room.

The doctor was speaking in a hurried tone, but none of their words seemed to make it past the pounding in your ears. Your mind refused to process anything but the cold, harsh truth that was unfolding before you.

One of the doctors glanced at his watch, his voice steady yet emotionless.

“Viktor Vikhnovich, time of death 4:12 PM.”

The words struck you like a hard punch. It felt as though time stood still. You choked on your breath as you looked at the man who meant everything to you—someone who had been just out of reach.

Dead.

The word echoed in your head, but it felt wrong. No, it has to be a joke.

You wanted to scream, to demand they are mistaken, to rush forward and shake him awake. But your legs refused to move. Your vision blurred, body numb with the shock that hit you like a bullet to the chest.

The doctors moved around you, but you could barely comprehend their actions. You didn’t know if they were trying to offer condolences or explanations. None of it mattered.

All you could see was Viktor lying motionless, as though life had been drained from him just when he needed it the most. It took everything in you not to collapse right there in the doorway.

You walked closer to his laying body; he felt close yet so far. He isn't here anymore.

“No, no, no, no, no,” the words spilled from your lips, your voice trembling and raw as you stumbled forward. You pushed through the heavy air in the room, ignoring the doctors who tried to steady you or pull you back.

You couldn’t hear them. You couldn’t see anything except him.

You reached Viktor’s side, your knees giving out as you collapsed by his bed. “No,” you whispered again, this time softer, as though speaking directly to his now peaceful soul. Your hands hovered over his cheeks, shaking, afraid to touch him and confirm what your heart refused to believe.

His skin was colorless, chest still, and the nasal cannula lay idle. The silence of his lifelessness was more deafening than your cries.

Tears streamed down your face, blurring your vision as you clutched his hand in yours. It was cold, far too cold. Far from the warmth of the pair of hands that heated your cheeks in the middle of the storm just a few weeks ago.

“Viktor, please,” you sobbed, voice breaking with each syllable. “N-no, don’t do this. Don’t leave me. I'm s-sorry.”

The sense of finality rang in your ears.

His face appeared serene, which only boosted your pain.

You couldn’t reconcile this quiet, unresponsive Viktor with the man you knew. The one who argued passionately about science, who lit up at the spark of an idea, the man you've always had an unspoken love with.

You pressed a chaste kiss on his forehead, your tears soaking the lifeless skin of his face.

“This is- this is all my fault…” you choked out. “Viktor, you can’t—” Your voice cracked, unable to finish the sentence, because finishing it meant acknowledging the truth, and you weren’t ready for that.

Your fingers brushed over his cheek and his moles, memorizing every line and angle for the last time.

The world felt wrong. It was too quiet, too still without him in it.

Sure, he hadn’t been a part of your life since the day he walked away, but this was different.

This was final.

The faint hope you’d always held, the possibility of crossing paths again, of hearing his voice, of sharing even one swift moment, was now extinguished.

He was gone, permanently this time.

There would be no second chances, no reconciliation, no more time to bridge the gap that had grown between you.

The doctors and nurses exchanged looks, their expressions a mix of pity and discomfort. Someone murmured something about giving you time, and the sound of footsteps walking away barely registered in your mind.

"Viktor... I love you, too..."

The door clicked shut, leaving you alone with him.

Alone in your grief, your despair.

Alone with the reality that Viktor was gone.

୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ

Six months had passed since Viktor's passing and grief still lingered in every corner of your heart.

It had a way of reshaping your life without your permission. The past few months weren’t about healing, but more about surviving. You woke up every day feeling like a piece of you had been carved out, like there was a void that you carried everywhere you go.

Life continued on even as you grieve, but moving ahead just felt wrong.

It felt wrong to move on from Viktor because of the realization that there weren't many people left to mourn him. It was just you, Jayce, and Sky. However, in time, the three of you will also be gone. And despite all the blood, sweat, and tears Viktor put in, his dreams of leaving a lasting legacy in this world is now impossible to come to fruition.

You didn’t cry every day. Sometimes, it was worse: just complete numbness. The kind where nothing felt real or important anymore.

You ignored his name when it came up in conversations, avoided the places that held his memory, but the pain never failed to find you in the smallest things—a faint scent from the past or the quiet moments before sleep when there was nothing to worry you about having to forgive him.

And yet, you didn’t let it break you. Instead, you kept going. Because you know Viktor would've wanted you to.

Now, as you clean and reorganize your home, you found yourself surrounded by half-packed boxes. The sounds of tape peeling and cardboard shifting kept you distracted from your thoughts, until your hand grazed something tucked into the corner of an old shelf.

A small box, with the letter V written across its lid in faded blue ink.

Your brows knit together. The curiosity that drew you toward the box wasn’t out of curiosity but rather out of realization. You knew exactly what it was. It was Viktor’s. Or rather, a box of things that belonged to him. Things of him from Zaun that you kept. The appearance of it awoken a strong feeling, not only sorrow but also guilt.

"Forgot I still have these." You chuckled, fingers running across the surface of it.

The notebook Sky had given you moments before Viktor's passing had been left untouched. Unread. Seeing it again felt like reopening your own wounds, wounds that were filled with the regret of not having forgiven him when you still had the time to.

You hesitated before lifting the lid, the smell of old paper and dust wafting into your face. Your heart skipped a beat as your gaze fell upon Viktor's notebook, sitting neatly atop a pile of random trinkets and scrap toys you made when you were a kid. But it wasn’t the notebook that stole your breath.

Nestled beneath it was a small, rusted toy boat, blemished by years of being kept away. Your fingers shook lightly as you picked it up, the memories it held flooding your mind like the stream where you used to play with this toy boat.

The boat.

The boat that had drifted too far downstream, leading you to Singed's lab. The boat that had set him on a path to greatness, to dreams so grand that they left no room for the simplicity of your childhood friendship. The boat that had left you behind. The boat that changed everything.

A smile tugged at your lips as you cradled the delicate toy in your hands. Viktor had no idea you kept it all these years. Not when he was consumed by ambition, not when you did the same but with the anger for him for leaving, and certainly not in the moments when you questioned if he even remembered you.

It was lightweight, but it carried the heaviness of nostalgia at the same time.

As you held it, images of your childhood played in your mind like a bittersweet reel. The laughter by the stream, the scent of Zaun's polluted air you never imagined you'd somehow miss, and the way Viktor’s eyes lit up with excitement as you launched the boat for the first time.

"I'll get it!"

"Come onnn, you’ll never catch it," Viktor called out, his voice teasing with worry after you dove into the shallow water to catch the boat. He stood on the bank, leaning lightly on his cane, his frame silhouetted against the golden afternoon light.

Your laughter bubbled up, louder than the gurgle of the stream. "Oh, watch me!"

Viktor shook his head, his lips twitching into a crooked smile. “You’ll be swept away before you even touch it,” he warned.

He stepped closer to the edge as if he could will you back to safety. He would’ve waded in himself if his leg allowed it. You knew that. He always hated being on the sidelines, watching while others took the risks he couldn’t.

“Vik, I’m fineee!” you called out, glancing over your shoulder at him. The current tugged harder the farther you went, but your determination burned brighter. “You’re just mad I’m faster than you.”

His laugh was soft, carried away by the breeze. “Faster, perhaps. Smarter? Doubtful.”

A wistful laugh escaped you as the memory replayed in your mind. Those were the moments before you stumbled upon the cave. If only curiosity hadn’t taken over—then maybe, just maybe—everything would’ve turned out differently.

Perhaps you and Viktor could have grown up side by side and make it Piltover together.

Finally you took the notebook. It sat heavy in your hands. You sighed, brushing the thin layer of dust from the surface. Your fingers hesitating for a moment before you finally flipped it open.

Settling onto the floor with your legs crossed, you prepared yourself for what lay inside.

At first, it was exactly as you expected. Pages filled with equations and wobbly sketches of his prototypes. You couldn’t help but smile as you traced the lines with your eyes, they captured the excellence he was born with.

It was so distinctly Viktor—obsessive, conscientious.

For a brief moment, it felt like he was right there with you, explaining each one of his ideas with his usual avidness, accent curling around the words.

God, you missed him.

As you reached the middle of the notebook, your fingers faltered. There was something different here.

Nestled between the pages was a photo. One you recognized immediately.

Your breath caught as you carefully lifted it, hands trembling slightly.

It was you. An image of a younger version of you at a turning point in your life when your hard work had finally started paying off. The image had been torn from an old newspaper article that featured your story. A story you never even thought Viktor knew or even cared about.

Your eyes shifted to the random affirmations beside the photo in Viktor’s messy handwriting.

"Still the most beautiful."

"I always knew you could make it, too."

"You grew out your hair. It suits you."

"My solnyshka, I hope you carry my love everywhere you go."

And more.

Each line felt like a whisper from him. He wrote them as if he was going to send them to you, as if you were replying to everything he jotted down. They felt like a kiss to your soul that you could almost hear him next to you, sending a shiver down your spine.

You traced the faded ink with your fingers, overwhelmed by the tenderness in every note he left behind.

Viktor had been paying attention all along, even when you believed he had turned his back on you.

Tears blurred your vision as you stared at the photo, the words, and the ghost of his presence woven into the pages. He was right. You indeed looked beautiful, as if you were looking at yourself through his eyes,

This wasn’t just a record of his work, it was also a reflection of the parts of his heart he never fully managed to show you.

And now, here it was, laid bare in your trembling hands.

Your fingers twitched, flipping the pages despite the fear in your heart. A part of you wanted to stop, to close the notebook and shove it back into the box, to avoid whatever might hurt more than you already did. But your curiosity overcame your reluctance, and you flipped to the next page after the other.

What you found stole the breath from your lungs.

In the center of the notebook was a section had been carefully carved out. The edges are neat, every cut made with precision. As if it was a secret pocket.

Within the hollowed space was a ring—a moss agate ring.

The soft green swirls within the stone caught the light, shimmering with a beauty that is so captivating.

It wasn’t extravagant like a diamond, but it was perfect. It felt just like him. Like the Viktor you knew.

The Viktor who found beauty in the simplicity, the meaningful, the genuine.

Your breath hitched as you picked it up, cradling it in your palm.

Moss agate. A stone symbolizing new beginnings and emotional healing. He had chosen it for a reason, you realized, and the realization tightened the ache in your chest even more than before.

It wasn’t just a ring. It was a promise, a reflection of your shared history and of humble beginnings, of scraped knees and childhood laughter, of dreams whispered by candlelight.

As you turned it over in your hand, a folded piece of paper stuck out the notebook, fluttering to the ground like a fragile leaf. You picked it up, noticing the faint smudge of red on the corner.

Blood. His blood. The realization sent a chill through you. Viktor penned this with his own hands, hands that had become frail as his body slowly stagnated.

Unfolding the letter, your breath caught at the sight of his familiar handwriting, every word etched with care despite the shakiness of the strokes.

His voice seemed to reach out to you from the page, the words pulling you into his world one last time.

My little sun,

Should this letter ever find its way to you, I cannot say how or when. Perhaps it never will. But if you’re holding this, it means I am no longer beside you.

I write this not knowing if you’ll ever read it, yet I must. Even if I will never again see your face alight with that smile of yours. There is nothing left to save me, and I’ve tried. I've tried to make peace with it. What weighs heavier than the end itself is leaving you. Knowing I’ve caused you so much pain.

I’ve thought endlessly of us, of the life we shared before it all crumbled.

Do you recall the day we met? You were the only one who didn’t flinch when you saw me. My leg, my limp. They meant nothing to you. You were so small then, full of boundless energy and kindness. You stopped without hesitation to help me gather the rusted scraps I’d dropped. And with that light of yours, you simply asked if I needed help.

Even then, I sensed there was something deeper. Something I wouldn’t understand until much later. From that moment, I knew you were unlike anyone I’d ever known. Only you... could make me feel that way.

I remember those stolen moments by the stream, the times you wept and I tried to comfort you, poorly if I may say. Yet in truth, it was your warmth and your embrace that gave me solace. Your laughter lingers still, echoing in the quiet spaces when I find myself longing for your presence.

And that day in the undercity, when you found that broken toy. You insisted we could fix it, though I swore it was beyond repair. I tried to explain the impossibility with the misaligned gears, but you looked at me with that defiance of yours and said, “We’ll make them fit.” And that we did.

Because that is who you are. Persistent. Always striving to mend what others deem beyond hope, even me. You tried to fix the rift between us when it should have been my responsibility to bear. And in return, I only worsened everything.

Do you remember the night I promised to marry you? We were just children, dreaming of a future that seemed impossibly distant. I don’t know what made me say it. Perhaps it's the way you looked at me, like I could be more than I was. You laughed and called me 'silly', but I meant every word.

Even then, I meant it. I told myself I would build something worthy of you. A life worthy of you.

But instead, I left. I pursued ambitions that devoured me whole and left you behind. And in doing so, I broke us. I see that now, clearer than ever. Though I don’t deserve it, I hope you understand how deeply sorry I am. For leaving, for hurting you, for failing to be the man you deserved.

When I promised to marry you, you told me I’d have to make you a pretty ring. I took that to heart.

I’ve held onto this ring for what feels like lifetimes. It is not grand, not polished like those found in the shops. It is simple. It is us. And it has always reminded me of you.

I don’t know if you’ll ever forgive me. Perhaps I have no right to ask. But you must know this... Loving you was never a regret. It was my only certainty.

You are, and will forever be, my sun. The light I chased even when it burned. You made the impossible seem possible, even for someone like me.

And though I am gone, I hope you will continue to shine. Shine brighter than I ever could.

For both of us.

Yours always, Viktor

Tags: @blackravena @aysluxe @aise-30 @sillyguy49 @22carolina08 @rainyyumbrella @adrestlyd @he4rt4vik @brynneslitteworld @artist2181 @tofueater78 @victormydarling @marshallowy @burning-harmony

Reading Arcane fics made me realize how much I miss writing so i might come out of my hiatus sometime soon. I have been wanting to get back to writing for my Urie fic but got so lazy, plus I kinda lost the concept (sad). Idk if I should start re-writing it now, or finish writing now and re-write it later. I did say I wanted to re-write it sometime in the future.

Chapter 3: Recreation—Redoubt

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The next few days were pretty uneventful. Most of the stuff that happened was meeting with Shimoguchi in the hospital. After his whole team was slaughtered mercilessly he resided in the stiff bed after help arrived and rescued him, treating all his minor injuries.

Although it was Akane's job to join both Haise and Akira during these moments she decided to leave it all to the both of them deeming the task, "boring." Instead she walked over to the familiar scent of ground coffee and sweet, sweet, sugar. Her beige coat engulfed her curvy figure as she entered the warm café. A little bell at the top of the door alerting the barista upfront.

Her dark purple swaying behind her as she greeted the new customer with a small smile. Her voice coming out smoothly, her upturned smile making itself present in her voice.

"Welcome to Re, what can I get you..?"

Her eyes widened in surprise as she trailed off. In front of her stood the short woman. Her lilac hair pulled up into a messy bun, her lips stained a bloody red making her pale complexion stand out even more. Her lips curled into a small smile, "Hi, Touka," she waved.

The woman felt conflicted, but a small warmth spread throughout her chest seeing a familiar face after all these years of living in solitude.

"I hope you don't mind brewing me a drink."

"I.. uh. Sure, plain brew?"

Nodding she sat by the counter up front and waited patiently. She looked around the place and noticed shelves and shelves of books on the walls of the café. They varied from informational novels, romance, historical fiction, thrillers, and other varying genres. The vibe of the café was calm, cozy—it felt like a safe haven, the dim lights making her feel at home.

In an instant Touka came back and settled the cup in front of her.

"Nice place you got here, Touka. Reminds me of Anteiku, you know? But the books are throwing me off." She said as she sipped the scalding liquid, her throat burning at the temperature, but she managed the pain.

"What are you doing here?" Touka inquired, feeling a bit off edge at her sudden appearance.

"You know you aren't being slick with the books. I bet if Kaneki visited he'd move in—in point five seconds." She chuckled as her fingers traced the rim of the coffee cup.

The dark haired woman blushed at the words and tried to deny every word that came out of the busty woman's mouth. Cheeks became increasingly red as she stuttered over her words. Akane just laughed at the younger woman and shook her head.

"You're so easy to read, grape."

"W-what are you doing here?" She crossed her arms.

"Can't I visit? Damn, first, Nishiki, now you? Guess I'm unwanted everywhere I go." She joked about blowing on her cup.

"That's not what I meant, and you know that."

"Yeah, yeah." She rolled her eyes as she sipped on her cup once more,

"I wanted to escape from my job real quick." She shrugged as she looked into the brown liquid, her reflection gazing up at her.

"They're being a pain in the ass and I can't escape from them. I just wish I had my old life back, you know?" She chuckled whilst stroking the handle of the cup in a slow manner.

"Yeah. I know." Touka sighed

"What.. happened after we-"

"A lot. But it's best if we catch up at a later time, right now it's isn't safe to. Not here." She shook her head.

"You know, Anteiku was more like a family than my sister was, to me. I hope you know that I care for you and the others, Touka." She smiled as she picked her stuff up and pulled out a few bills leaving it on the counter as she left the café.

The purple haired girl watched her walk away leaving her glued to her spot as she looked down at the now vacant seat, her chest warming up for the first time in a while.

"You too, Reina."

The walk home was a bit slow and carefree. It's been a while since she decided to take up to enjoy the beautiful scenery surrounding her. It made her feel nostalgic of all the times her and her sister snuck out of their fathers place and wandered around without a care in the world. Soaking in the beauty nowadays was a luxury for most people.

Days consisting of work, barely any time to spend time at home relaxing, spending time with the family, with the kids, taking time for yourself was taboo. Forced to drink and make social relations with humans was growing tiring for Reina, she just wanted to rest and dream about the good old days.

Anteiku. The old coffee shop that used to stand in place of the newer shop, :Re. A family she found after her sister disowned her and left her to stay with her father. In an attempt to search for her sister she also fled to the 20th ward where she found home. She ended up transferring schools after she decided to live in the 20th ward, the safest ward up until a few years later.

She opened the door and sluggishly hung up her coat and kicked off her heels, as her hand reached up to unclasp the anchored claw clip in her hair. Her eyes felt tired and watery.

"Damn it." She cursed as the hand in her hair came down to wipe away the free flowing tears, her hair now unraveling itself down her back as it settled to frame her face

At the top of the staircase was a shadowed figure that made itself known after hearing noise coming from downstairs. She gazed up at the person and quickly settled her eyes elsewhere upon realizing who it was. She didn't say a word and instead just walked all the way up to her room and shut it. She laid on her bed all sprawled out and looked out the window. The bright sun peeking out from the thin curtains, rays of sun peeking through the gaps.

The whole room illuminated in a golden cast, the rays that hit her body warming her up more than before—but in a comforting way. All that was missing was a hand running through her hair murmuring a few words about an old story her sister heard a few times before they escaped that god ridden place.

She turned over and looked at the propped up frame on her nightstand. A picture of her older sister and father enjoying quality time together. Their faces calm and collected as he braided his daughters hair and she read with a book in her lap. The same rays of sun in her room showed in the picture, the warmth in the photo could be felt outside of it. She took the photo in secret after finding the discarded camera in an empty alleyway the day prior. The picture had been a fond memory of hers as she remembered what happened after they found her sneaking up on them.

The sound of a camera shutter could be heard from a few feet away which alerted the two. As her father tied up his little girls hair he stood up and walked up to the door of the room and pushed it open only to find his other little girl with a camera in her hand as she smiled up at him with innocent eyes.

"Where'd you get this from, Reina?" He asked as he picked up the device and inspected it closer. He certainly didn't remember gifting her a toy camera—let alone a real one.

"I found it! Remember when you sent me and Rize to go shopping? I saw something white in an alleyway and so I told Rize that I saw something and we checked it out! It was a camera! It might be a bit dirty and scratched up, but it works fine." She explained twirling a strand of her lilac hair between her thumb and pointer finger.

She looked up at her father and shied away from his gaze.

"So you didn't steal this?" He lowered himself to meet her face.

"No! No! Rize, tell him I didn't! You were there with me!" She pointed at her sister, hoping he'd believe her word.

The older girl just chuckled and shook her head in a playful manner.

"Hmm, I think I remember someone running after us saying 'you get back here you thieves!'" She joked.

"Hey! You know that's not true!" The younger girl furrowed her eyebrows as she crossed her arms.

The older girl just laughed and walked towards her younger sister and picked her up. "I'm just joking, queenie. I know you didn't steal it." She looked up at her father and explained that it was by a garbage can and they asked the owner if they could take it with them.

"Can't have my daughter thinking it's okay to steal. I've raised them to be respectful, kind ladies." He scooped them up and handed the camera back to his youngest.

"I know I may not be your biological father, but I hope you know that I care for you both and will try my best to be the best father to the both of you." He whispered as he kissed the crowns of their heads.

The boy had walked back to his place on the couch after the girl went up to her room. He noticed that her eyes were a bit puffy and red, her hair a bit disheveled. Hell, she hadn't even insulted him as she passed him. He found it weird but didn't think of it much. Pushing his thoughts aside he sat back down on the couch and scrolled through his phone for a while until he couldn't shake the thought anymore.

Curiously he made his way upstairs and walked to the wooden door. The scent of perfume lingered from her room, often nauseating the rest of the team with how strong they were. She'd taken their reaction into consideration and threw them out and swapped them for more faint scents. Often not she'd bring home samples and ask around the house whether they were good to wear or not.

His hand reached for the door handle and pulled it open as it revealed the girl curled up on her bed. Her hair splayed everywhere on her pillow, the sun hitting her curled figure, her arms cuddling something. A picture frame? As he was about to close the door the faintest mumbling could be heard, "Dad... wher..Riz.?" Her voice slurred. He assumed she was reliving a memory.

Her voice groaned before she spoke, "n.. left..? Wh.. she at.?" Her chest started heaving, breaths getting heavier and heavier as her face scrunched up, eyes wrinkling. Tears free flowing down the side of her face. She continued muttering under her breath, "not safe", "find her", and "no's" escaped her mouth until her tears stopped, her breathing evened out as her tense body finally relaxed once more.

"I'll.. find her... dad.." she whispered.

Hearing enough he shut the door and headed back downstairs, this time returning to his newspaper.

After a few hours there was a big bang that woke her up. Groggily getting up she rolled over and dropped the framed photo on the carpet with a thud which caught her attention, she looked down at the object and picked it up.

"When did I move you?" She mumbled as she examined it making sure nothing broke or got scratched. She put it back on her night stand and walked to her mirror.

She muttered a curse under her breath as she saw her reflection. She was a mess. Eyes bloodshot red, puffy, makeup all runny staining her face. Her hair stuck to her face from the tears—which acted like an adhesive. Sitting down by her vanity she pulled out a makeup remover wipe and began to scrub at her face. Throwing it into the trash can, she walked out and checked out what the murmuring in the hallway was about.

"What the hell did you do?" She loomed behind them.

Saiko’s room was a mess. Trash everywhere and the door was knocked off of it hinges. Mutsuki, Urie and Shirazu were all huddled around the small girl cornering her on her bed. The quartet paused their little argument and turned to the older girl.

"Saiko's finally going to work with us during missions!!" Shirazu and Mutsuki exclaimed.

"Okay, okay, calm down you guys. Clean this mess up while you're at it." she turned to Urie and winked at him,

"If you wanted to wear my perfume, you could've asked instead of sneaking in." She chuckled and left.

"That little... what happened to the Saiko from last night?!"

They were all outside the house waiting on the stubby girl to join them, but it seems that wasn't the case even after last night's convincing. Shirazu seemed to be the most irritated out of all them, his mood clearly worsening the longer they waited.

"Didn't you all convince her to finally start working?" The girl teased.

"We should get going, we'll be late." Haise jumped in trying to get the message across that Saiko wouldn't join them no matter what, but Shirazu was determined.

"What do you wanna do? Squad leader?" 

"Sasan. Go ahead, I'm going to wake her ass up!!" He insisted.

"But.. when Saiko sleeps in, nothing wakes her up.." Haise said helplessly.

"Everyone wakes up!!" His voice getting smaller the farther he ventured inside the house. 

There was no stopping him anymore. As they all headed into the car Mutsuki asked if they really believed if he could actually get her to wake up and get to the meeting.

“She didn’t wake up when I banged on pots..” Haise added with a troubled look remembering that day.

"It'd take a miracle if she even woke up let alone join us for the meeting." Reina commented as she buckled up in the backseat with Urie.

Stumbling to get to the meeting room in a rush, Haise opened the door and bowed, “I’m sorry we’re late..” as Reina followed suit.

“We’ve been expecting you, Investigators Sasaki, Nakou.” Rank 2: Hanbeh Abara stood by the door and greeted the squad.

“Where’s Juuzou?” He asked.

“He overslept.. we’ll start without him.” 

Situating themselves in their respective seats Hanbeh then began the meeting. He stayed standing up as he presented the case regarding the Nutcracker, the Madames, and the Gourmets. Interested Reina stayed paying attention after hearing that the Gourmets were involved.

She turned to look at Haise—who was all the way to her left—who surprisingly wasn’t paying attention to the meeting at all. Instead his face was screwed into confusion and worry. Knowing there was nothing she could do at the moment she turned back to pay attention to the case. There was no harm in asking after the briefing.

wc: 2.5k previous chapter  masterlist next chapter

a/n: i actually wrote this in early feb but decided to make a posting schedule just to make my life easier and more organized (i still have yet to complete my hw… I’m very irresponsible :’)

ps. this chapter was completed during midwinter break

Tag list:

TILL FOREVER FALLS APART !

summary: when sirius said siblings are off limits, james never thought he would break that rule as his best friend was the only one to have siblings close to their age, but everything seems to change when the sister sirius swore to hate because of her cruelty has several detentions with him and she’s not as cruel as her brother described.

notes: james potter x black!reader. reader is a twin sister of regulus, kinda angsty at the end, hurt/comfort, sirius is kind of an ass. not proofread

you really thought that the detention with james potter would go easy. not a word would be shared, him not even looking at you as he probably know your relationship with his best friend, and then you two would have a week free from each other, but james potter seemed to be interested in you – or more likely, how did you end up in a detention.

he saw you as a perfect black, that’s how sirius would describe you, or your twin brother whenever someone brought up your name. and no matter how positive it sounds, he was always negative, never mentioning your childhood, and how attached you were to him.

the perfect black daughter, more ideal than narcissa or bellatrix, the one who would never obey her elders unlike sirius or andromeda, the one who would do whatever they say to please them.

well, it was partially true, you could give that to him. but you nor regulus weren’t like any other family members. you weren’t brave enough to stand up to your parents and survive the punishment with a smile on your lips like your brother did, you two were two afraid to do anything that could make orion or walburga mad.

but both of you were proud slytherins, with regulus being one of the best quidditch players of your house, and you impressively good at whatever you touched. you were plotting against your parents, the death-eathers and everyone that could get in the way of your plan. an escape plan, to runaway somewhere far like france or canada, while everyone thinks you died. nonetheless, sirius couldn’t know that – he barely spoke to any of you, which just worsened when you were invited to the deatheaters meeting at your house.

in his eyes, you were nothing but a piece of shit like rest of your family for being unable to runaway earlier, for having no one to runaway to, as the rumors about your enjoyment in dark magic spread at school with light speed. however, unlike sirius you had your twin, always ready to stand up for you and vice versa, always ready to fight anyone who says a bad thing about you.

sometimes you and regulus would sneak out of the house and wander around the crowded streets of london, thinking how would your life looked like if you weren’t wizards, if you weren’t born into a family with an obsession of blood status and keeping it pure.

what made you even more perfect in everyone’s eyes was that you looked exactly like a female version of regulus, or more accurately, he looked like a male version of you. wearing the same clothes when you didn’t have to wear robes, and it wasn’t like you planned it – you had a gut feeling to wear your expensive like hell, black coat, and so had he. you looked intimidating, walking next to your brother, evan rosier and other friends of yours with faces that seemed to never experience any emotions. like rocks, untouched by people’s words, stares and pointing fingers.

“how did you end up here?” your companion asked out of sudden, making you shift in your chair. you already finished cleaning the classroom but there was still more than an twenty minutes left, and you couldn’t just leave for whatever reasons. “didn’t expect to see the perfect black sister having time to bother herself with things like detentions.”

“and why does it interest you, potter?” a sigh slipped from between your lips as you rest your chin on the left hand. “so my brother can have more reasons to despise me, because as i presume, you’ll tell him.” you didn’t even let him have a glimpse of your mimic as he could only see your back.

“oh, miss black, who do you think i am?” you heard him get closer, and take a seat by your side, probably briefly looking at the book you’d read. he could swore to merlin, he thought it’d be a book containing black magic spells you would cast if flinch didn’t confiscate your wands. but it was far from dark margic. “i’m just curious, have heard a lot of… things about you and wanted to check myself.”

you fixed your black hair before quickly considering if you should tell him the real reason or the made up one you’d told evan and pandora. “hmm, what would i get from telling you?” you leaned closer to him, revealing your face. it was one of your first encounters with james potter, and hell, you know it wouldn’t be the last one, since there were at least four next weeks of detention together.

“we could figure something out, y’know.” he shrugged, scanning every inch of your flawless skin, starting at your eyebrows and eyes, through lips to chin. you were gorgeous, and james couldn’t blame the first years that sometimes followed you like a lost puppy around the castle, trying to gain your attention or the girls having their lesbians awakening while watching slytherin’s practice with you as a substitute for your brother. every comment he had heard about your immaculate beauty was so real, that he could swore he would develop a crush on you in other circumstances. “just tell me.”

“i stood in my brother’s defense, the one you know better.” you replied, averting your look back to the book you were reading, not really bothering yourself to catch a glimpse of james’ parted mouth as he realized the sense of your words. “any more questions or can i finally focus on my book?”

“why did you- how did you-?”

“as much as some people tries to say, i do care about my family members’ well-beings, even though they refuse to talk to me or my twin.” you let out a little too harsh than you planned. “and no one will say anything bad about my brother unless it’s me or regulus.” you didn’t even wait for his reponse, leaving the classroom as soon as the clock hit nine in the evening.

you could say everything, yet you decided to reveal part of the thing that happened. and you knew that james would, most likely, tell your brother how you tried to gain his attention by making up a story. what you didn’t tell him was the part where you broke lucius malfoy’s nose, completely forgetting how much influence had his father on yours, and how mad they would be.

the next detention went… smoother. james didn’t bother you with questions about elaborating on the reason of your punishment, however it wouldn’t be james potter if he stayed quiet. especially when you didn’t have to clean the classroom again, just sit in silence while mcgonagall watched over you, but unfortunately (for you) she had to leave.

“miss black, didn’t expect you here.” a chuckle left his mouth, sitting himself in front of you, taking in your gorgeous face. “any kid’s dreams of dating you crashed last week?” for a moment, a millisecond, he could see a shadow of smile on your lips, and james potter felt like he already accomplished his mission for today.

“how did you guess?” you rolled your eyes in a playful manner, allowing yourself to look at the boy in front of you. his dark curls fell onto his forehead, and you could swear if it wasn’t for his glasses that somehow kept them out of his eyes’ way, he wouldn’t see a thing.

and you couldn’t know that, but james potter wouldn’t let himself miss such an opportunity to just stare at you for at least few minutes. it was strange, he never wanted to just look at a girl, who wasn’t lily evans and interested in him at the same time. though somehow, you were living free in his mind, making the boy catch himself on staring at you during meals.

“pulled out some prank on snape lately?” you added before he replied, a hand put under your chin as you leaned over the table, watching his every move. his eyes lit up immediately on your visible interest in whatever he had done during the previous week. “not a fan of snape?” james questioned, his eyebrow higher than usually.

“please.” you rolled your eyes again. “is there anyone who’s a fan of snape besides your girlfriend?” you let yourself smile at him for a brief moment, before shifting in your chair.

“evans s’not my girlfriend.” his replied shocked you, you could’ve sworn to yourself you saw them snogging somewhere. not that you cared with whom james was making out. you didn’t care, at all. “rumor has it, you two hook up a lot.”

“i’d throw up over him rather than do anything that involves physical touch. he disgusts me.” you knitted your eyebrows together at the so-called rumor, you already heard from sirius on christmas.

“why? because he’s a half-blood?” the gryffindor seeker blurted out before thinking, causing you to back out from the conversation, a strange feeling of pain raising in your heart. it was something he would regret saying later at night, processing every inch of your talk, realizing that everyone thought you were a pure-blood supremacist, and probably it wasn’t the best thing he could say to you.

“because he’s a misogynistic piece of shit, potter. snape could be a highly born pure-blood wizard, the best one out there, but if he says things like this about your little girlfriend when she’s not there or any female in general, he’s a piece of shit like any of his friends.” your words came out harshly, but you felt disrespected by someone who tried talking to you first.

the rest of the detention you spent in silence while james was explaining something that involved brooms and words snivellus, regret, and some other things you didn’t pay attention to, too busy counting minutes to the end of that cruel meeting.

however, the third and fourth were much more… pleasing, you could say. the boy pulled an expression like if he actually wanted to get to know you on his own and found out what made you silent a week earlier. it almost felt like it was planned, mcgonagall’s presence needed somewhere else, and a bunch of sweets you adored, snatched from the kitchen in a little bag in his hand.

“sorry. for the last time, i said some stupid shit that didn’t mean to come out like that.” he confessed, genuine in his voice was so clear that you couldn’t held back a smile, forming on your lips upon seeing his gesture. “don’t say shit like i didn’t have to. i did. i wanted to apologize, and get to know you.”

“hmm, apologise accepted.” you spoke out softly, offering him a bar of chocolate. “but, mister potter, why do you want to get to know me so bad? thought other people know everything better than me.”

he shifted in his position, getting closer to you, a mischievous smirk spread over his lips. “y’know, miss black, you’re an interesting person, and i can’t get you out of my head, so i had to do something about it.”

the upsides of your immaculate skin was that it tended to get red-ish rapidly, and that comment of his with the flirtatious tone made you burning red. without any shield to cover your face, you broke the eye contact with the gryffindor, and smiled involuntarily, feeding up his ego.

however, it didn’t took you long to look him in the eyes again, continuing the conversation with a smug smile that matched his. “what would you like to know, ask and i’ll answer.”

you awaited questions like how is it to be a death eather, or have you ever thought of killing someone for your parents’ sake, or anything that would make you cringe inside. although, he firstly asked you questions people never remember the answers to — what’s your favorite colour, muggle movie, a book you could recommend him to read in a free time.

“james potter likes contemporary romances?” you laughed, shaking your head at the answer to the last question he gave you. there was no imagine in your head of james potter, the great seeker of gryffindor, reading a contemporary romance book with eagerness and passion. “i’ll like whatever you recommend me, pretty girl.”

“hmm” you dragged out the words, searching for something in your bag. an exclusive, limited edition costing thousands of muggle’s money, of your favorite book – the pride and prejudice by jane austen. there was a brief moment of hesitation, was he just playing around and you would never get it back, or does he really wanna read it? there was something in his eyes that made you trust him prior to handing him the book. “it’s my favorite one.”

“you like classics?” you nodded.

james felt a weird, tingling feeling in his stomach as you clarified it was your favorite one, and now he had it in his hands. he recognized the muggle author, because his mom read a lot of muggle classics and romance in her freetime. it was bizarre to learn you liked muggle book, hardly ever mentioning a wizard one.

for the rest of the third detention you just… talked, ending up with being walked by him to the basement, so the disscusion you had wouldn’t be cut off so suddenly. the fourth one was even better, the best of them as there was no awkwardness between you two, despite the closeness of your bodies. he sat next to you, your arm and leg touching his whenever he leaned closer.

this time, you were the one talking — infuriated by some guys from ravenclaw that had catcalled you a few times on your way to the detention and one had tried to touch you, thinking it was okay to touch anyone without their consent. they were seniors, finishing school in june when you were a fifth-year, frightened by the vision of writing owls in may.

james just nodded his head, not daring to interrupt you even once, maybe in fear of getting hit by your hands that couldn’t stop moving ever since you started your monologue. he just chimmed in a few times saying true and yes, but he was focused on how your eyes flickered with annoyance and anger, making you even prettier.

“are you even listening to me, james?” the way you empathized his name made his stomach do a flip, a whole acrobatic performance. it was one of the first times, or even the first, when you referred to him as james, not potter, not mister potter or anything you’d called him before, james. “yeah, yes, sorry. assholes from ravenclaw, right?”

he walked you to the entrance of slyherin common room for the last time as it was your last detention together for a while, and you smiled at him warmly before disappearing behind the doors. the first thing you saw after stepping into the room was your brother’s interested smile.

“potter walking you here? someone got a crush.” he laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you climbed the stairs up to his dormitory. “sirius would probably kill him if it was true, my dearest little brother.” you replied walking into the room of your brother and his few friends.

“sirius would kill who?” rosier walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waistline, winking at you with a flirtatious smirk. “quit it, evan. she’s my sister.” regulus was faster to reply.

you plopped on evan’s bed as it was the only free one and sighed. “reg thinks a certain gryffindor has a crush on me because he walked me here.”

“twice.”

“okay, yeah. james walked me twice and regulus thinks he has a crush on me for simply being nice, after literally interviewing me.” you mumbled, crossing arms on your chest. “there’s nothing to discuss here, he’s a gryffindor, a potter, it’s just inherited kindness.”

“and why are you so involved in figuring it out, sister?” your brother asked with a smug smile, his eyebrows high up as he thought he found out about your great secret. “do you reciprocate his little crush on you, huh?”

“shut up, asshole.” you rolled your eyes, throwing one of evan’s additional pillows at him. “do i look like a 5’4 ginger with a gryffindor’s scarf hung around my neck?”

“please, if i’ll see you one day in a fucking gryffindor robe, i don’t know who i am going to kill first, your future boyfriend or you for cheating on me, pretty girl.” evan sat beside you, almost immediately throwing his hand over your shoulder, pulling you closer to his still wet-ish chest.

you laughed, making yourself comfortable. unfortunately for regulus (who always wanted to kill any of his friends that tried to hit up on you), you enjoyed your flirtatious relationship with evan. “you think really highly of yourself, mr. rosier, took my first proper make-out and you think you decides on which robes i wear?” you shot back, biting back a playful grin appearing on your face.

“you know what i mean, sweetheart.” prior to regulus gag, you sent your friend a kiss and he pretended to catch it and hide in the depths of his heart. “of course, lovely.”

“please, get the fuck out if you want to be all couple-y here with each other.” andrew, another friend of your brother, groaned with fake annoyance as you sent evan another kiss. “what, andy? you jealous or something?” your friend laughed in an answer.

the next time you saw james was when a guy that tried to harass you, walked into the great hall with ugly, red hair and a robe with a large, inscription above his head “i harassed a younger girl.” he sat at the table across the hall, a mischievous grin spreading over his lips as you were the only person his eyes had focused on.

fifteen minutes later, you met him under the willow tree, a smug rosing on his face when you caught his glance. “miss black!” he called out, waving at you. “did you like what i did? especially for you.”

“it was… funny, you know.” you chuckled, taking a seat next to him as you had around twenty minutes left before anyone that could suspect basically anything would walk out of the castle. “i can give you that.” you mumbled, closing your eyes when your head touched the rough tree limb.

“sooo, you should go out with me as a favor, pretty girl.” he sent you a charming smile that would make your legs weak if you weren’t sitting next to him. “maybe on sunday, watchu think?”

you wanted to disagree, say no to him and explain yourself that your older brother, his best friend at the same time, wouldn’t be fond of this idea, though he looked at you with those alluring, brown eyes of his, and you couldn’t deny. “fine. sunday, it is.”

and that’s how you two began to go out, sneaking around and lying to your brothers that nothing really went on with the two of you. nevertheless, sirius was completely unaware of your little dates as anything had barely changed — james still talking about lily with a picture of you in his mind, and you… still didn’t talk to him. whatsoever, regulus knew about everything by connecting the dots and following the clues you left him unwillingly.

“i’ll kill him, hope you know that.” he spoke out suddenly, when you tried to get to your classroom in time, especially because it was potions and slughorn never tolerated lateness. never if you weren’t his favorite students that he collected like gems, giving them privileges and other additions that were probably against school rules. “huh?”

“potter.” you froze in your tracks for a minute. “if he ever lays a hand on you like our father did on our mother or do anything that upsets you, he’s dead.” a warm smile was painted on your brother’s mouth as he cocked his head to the side.

“what? don’t look at me like that. i’m not dumb as others to not notice the smiles he sends you from across the hall or how you disappear to hang out with julie, when she’s alone in the common room.” he exclaimed, a few laughs left his mouth, when you still frozen, looked at him with horror in the eyes. “i’m happy for you, chill, ugly face.”

“you’re not mad? fuming? furious?” you asked, voice somehow still low when you entered the classroom. “will you try to name all the synonyms for mad? and i’m not, y/n. i’ll leave that for the other brother you have.”

you gave him a quick side hug, before occupying yourself with anything that the teacher said, scolding you for being late, again. however, all you had on your mind was the date, your soon-to-be-boyfriend took you on.

it was the date, you’d say… a surprise one, and with james, they were on the normal basis. he would somehow let you know that there are places you need to be at night and a guide on which type of clothes should you wear (and a few notes saying how good you look during the day). then, he usually awaits you beside the enterance to your common room under the invisibility cloak, waiting to finally be able to kiss you. three nights ago, you two ended up in the pub, drank a few butter beers and met a few people that sixteen and fifteen years old probably shouldn’t met at night, they acted nice though.

however the night when everything went downhilld was the night you were supposed to spend in the library, studying to the upcoming owls that stressed the living shit out of you since the beginning of school year. a cup of coffee standing beside the books to transmutation, your biggest nightmare, dark red stains adding a little life to the white cup that was emptying with every other moment.

you were about to get another sip of the sweet liquid you’d prepared earlier, when it was snatched from your hand while someone planted a sweet kiss on your lips. “hey, love.” his voice so soft, and delicate you almost passed out from the tingling, warm feeling in your abdomen.

love, love, love. you would let someone kill you to hear it one more time.

“jamie, hi.” you tilted your head to the side, smiling at the boy warmly. “that’s the first time i see you in the library, something happened?” he shook his head with the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen.

james was the only person along regulus that you had never minded having any form of physical touch, as you grew up with the minimum you sometimes got as a reward. with all the other boys that tried to get somewhere near you at the parties it was just weird, having their arms thrown around various parts of your body had never failed to make you uncomfortable, even with evan you couldn’t be fully okay.

but james… you craved it to function like a normal human being. his touch was like oxygen, the feeling of his hands on your waist, hips, hands was… enchanting, making you want to live again. it was like if you were in a romance book, having the full epic, first sight, soulmates love with a twist (your brother’s hatred towards you). was it love? you couldn’t say yet.

“just wanted to spend some time with ya, y’know?” his hand flew to his curls, ruffling it as he lowered his eyes, focusing himself on the books in front of you. “transmutation? the old hag loves me, you could’ve said something.”

“i tried to figure it out on my own, but i barely moved from the starting point…” you let out a low groan, hiding your head in your hands, exhausted. “didn’t want to be a bother, you know.”

“love, i got outstanding from my transmutation owls, it’s like an easy revision for me.” he planted a kiss on her check, before leaning closer and stealing another sip of her coffee. “i’ll get us something to eat and you’ll be first in your classes”

“mkayy, thank you, jamie.”

well. there wasn’t much of studying, if you were honest. when the lights went finally out, your boyfriend put the invisibility cloak on top of you, so ms. prince wouldn’t catch you past the curfew. the minute she closed the library’s door, you felt potter’s lips crashing into yours, one of his hands pulling off fabric of the cloak.

he sat you down on the table, tossing the books aside. his hand gripping your thigh firmly, after sliding it underneath the fabric of your skirt. you could feel the burning marks his touch left on your skin, heated kisses tracing down your neck with hickies almost all over it.

you would probably keep going if it wasn’t for someone that dropped whatever they had in their hands upon seeing you two. before you could notice any characteristics of the person you heard james let out a mumble “oh fuck”.

and then you saw your brother’s face.

oh fuck indeed.

he stormed to you and before james could even react, he was hit by the shoulder of sirius whose eyes were still on your face. “stay the fuck away from my brother.” the way he empathized the word brother made you feel like someone just stabbed you in the back repeatedly. with the moment these words left his mouth, your whole expression changed to the emotionless and blank, the one you gave everyone but your friends.

“sirius…” your boyfriend sighed, his hand, the one that had a grip on your thigh, was now on the oldest boy’s shoulder. “don’t. this is between me and her.”

“stop messing with my friends’ heads. you don’t deserve to be near them, none of them is a fucking deatheather like you or the other one, none of them will ever be, because unlike you two, they’re good.” he spat, eyes burning with fury. “i don’t care how many of your charming smile you had to give him to take the amortentia from you, but it’ll end, sooner or later.”

“you don’t even know me, sirius.” you stated, your tone still and awfully cold as you got off the table and stood in front of your brother. “don’t act like you do, brother.”

“don’t call me that.” he replied, taking your wrist in his hand. “i don’t fucking care that we grew up together, that we share our last names. we’re not siblings since you and regulus joined his forces. so stay the fuck away from james, he doesn’t even love you, the only thing he talks 'bout is evans.”

“does he, really?” you cocked your head to the side, not letting his words influence you, not here. “you know, maybe your so-called brother wouldn’t have to lie to you if you weren’t so obsessed with hatred you have towards me and regulus. maybe he could tell you that he was the one who started bugging the shit out of me, maybe he could tell you how did we even meet.”

you could see sirius flinch, averting his gaze to potter, who tried to get in between you for a moment now. “don’t tell me it’s true, prongs, after what she did to me?”

“what i did to you? you were the one who left, brother, you’re the one who cut us off the second we were sorted to slytherin, you runaway and you’re mad, because i and reg were fucking kids who wanted to survive.” your voice broke, nevertheless, it didn’t stop you. “you didn’t even try to do something, save us, yet both of us were so fucking stupid defending you whenever someone brought you up. i broke lucius’ nose when he talked shit about you, but fucking evans is closer to being your sister than me, i’m so sick of it.” you couldn’t hold up your coldness, and calmness and you broke down within the end of the sentence, mascara smudged all over your cheeks as you cried while running out of the room.

you didn’t expect james to run down after you — you thought he’d stay with his friend, becuase there weren’t anyone you thought would run after you (excluding regulus, because he would jump into the flames with you). so when your boyfriend barged into the moaning myrtle’s bathroom you were shocked.

“baby…” he spoke out quietly, pulling you into a hug, gentle but tight. you didn’t even look at him, just cried your eyes out while breaking his heart by saying how tired you are of everything, and how you wanted sirius to be your brother again. a few kisses were planted on your hair as he tried to calm you down.

“jamie, please don’t leave me now.” you pulled away to look at him, eyes already red and swollen from tears. you weren’t used to show how vulnerable you were, and a thought of your boyfriend leaving you, because of it was so realistic in your head.

“what? why would i?” he knitted his eyebrows. “y/n, i love you and i know that deeply inside you care about what sirius think of you, but you have nothing to be sorry about, okay? with that said, i won’t leave you, never, okay?” you nodded lightly, resting your head on his shoulder.

“i love you too.” you whispered. “at least we don’t have to hide anymore, right?” a small smile painted on your lips upon your words.

“it’s us against the world right now, love.”

Ho might be depressed 😔💔

This Love

Summary: A sudden shift in reality places you in a strange new world, where a different version of your lover resides. You were happy, but you both know this can't stay forever.

Pairing: Viktor Arcane x Female Reader, she/her pronouns

Warnings: Slight angst, soft makeout sesh at the end, implied smut, mentions of anxiety, overall down bad Viktor.

Words: 4.4k

A/N: MY FIRST TIME WRITING FOR VIKTOR! This was inspired by S2E7. Not sure if this is a complete spoiler but read at your own risk! :) Forgive me, I think I got too carried away with the makeout part y'all. I hope you like it!

The quiet hum of Viktor’s lab was the soundtrack of your evenings. The faint aroma of tea and metal wafted in the air as Hextech crystals lit the room in their soft blue glow. You sat perched on a stool near his workbench, eyes tracing at each wrinkled skin as he adjusted the complexity of a new project.

He was so absorbed in his work that he hadn’t noticed you had been staring for the last few minutes. His honey eyes were sharp with focus, thoughts absent as his fingers moved with precision. The way his brow furrowed slightly when it didn’t do as he wanted made you smile.

“Viktor,” you finally said, your voice soft in an attempt not to startle him.

He paused, his head tilting slightly in acknowledgment before his eyes met yours. “Yes, my dear?” A small smile played on his lips, words dripping with accent you so adored.

“You’ve been at this for hours,” walking over to place a steaming cup of tea near his hand, you gently tuck the hair that were dangling in front of his eyes. He had been way too busy to even get a haircut. “Take a break before you become part of the machine.”

His soft laugh filled the room, and the tension in his shoulders eased. “You have a way of reminding me to be human,” he murmured, reaching for the cup.

“Because you are. And also, because I care about you more than your inventions,” you teased, leaning against the edge of the table.

“And I am grateful for it,” he replied, his voice tender. Viktor was often reserved, but in moments like this, he allowed his affection for you to shine through.

He sipped the tea and sighed. “Perfect, as always. Thank you.”

“You’re sooo predictable,” you said with a smirk. “If it’s not tea, it’s the late night problem-solving with no food or rest in between.”

“And yet, you choose to keep me company,” he countered, the side of his eyes creasing with amusement.

“Can you blame me? I'm a fool for brilliant minds,” you replied, sipping from your own cup of tea.

Viktor’s hand brushed against yours as he set the cup down, the touch lingering just long enough to send a warm sensation through your chest. “You’re too kind to me, dushen’ka,” he said, his tone softening as your heart flattered at the endearment. He never told you the meaning of it, nor have you asked. You just liked how it sounded and how it made you feel when it rolled off his tongue.

“And you’re too hard on yourself,” you shot back.

His lips twitched upward in a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He looked at you as if he wanted to say more but held back. Instead, he shifted in his seat, patting his lap invitingly.

“Come here,” he said, his voice low but firm.

You hesitated for a moment, but the look in his eyes was impossible to resist. You slid onto his lap, his arms wrapping around you with a gentleness that made your heart ache.

“I want to remember this,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple and letting it linger there as he subtly inhale the scent of your shampoo that never failed to calm his insides.

“What do you mean?” you asked, tilting your head to look at him.

“Just that little moments like this are rare,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And precious.”

You rested your forehead against his, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. “Then let’s make more of them.”

The other version of you in this world had grown weary of his devotion to his work. She felt as though he seemed to fade into his projects and leave so little of himself for her.

For months, Viktor had felt their relationship slipping through his fingers. He didn't want to speak loudly of it, but he loved her. So much. And the thought of being away from her for good genuinely scared him. But then again, he would rather spend these long and lonely nights hunched over his workbench than address it. Yet he is scared to lose her at the same time. He is one confusing man.

Then, one day, you came home, and everything was different.

He noticed it immediately, though he didn’t dare ask. There was a warmth in your smile that had been missing for so long. Almost as if you were about to cry. And when you ran into his arms like you’d been starving for his touch, he was too overwhelmed to even question it. Did she hit her head?

At that moment, he stood frozen, his mind struggling to catch up with the reality of you pressed against him, your arms wrapped tightly around his frame. Then his own hands found you, trembling as they held you close, as if he were afraid you might disappear again.

He didn’t know what had changed, but for the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to stop thinking, to simply feel. To be human. And what he felt was the most alive he’d been in a long time.

He was just grateful. Grateful for the way you looked at him now, as though you saw him again, as though you wanted him again. And oh, how he’d craved this.

How he’d craved you.

But now you sat there, cradled in his arms, you couldn’t ignore the ache in your chest.

You didn’t belong in this world. And the knowledge of what you’d eventually have to do hung over you like a shadow.

୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ

You woke in the middle of the night, the faint sound of Viktor’s tools clinking in the distance pulling you from sleep. The room you shared with him was small and sparse, a reflection of his humble lifestyle, but it had become a sanctuary for you. Your safe space.

Slipping out of bed, you padded quietly to the lab. Viktor was hunched over his workbench, his silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of a Hextech lamp. He didn’t notice you at first, too engrossed in whatever new device he was toying with.

“Vik,” you called gently, and he turned, surprised but pleased to see you.

“You should be resting,” he said, though his tone lacked lecture.

“So should you,” you countered, stepping closer. "The bed was cold when I woke up. Knew you'd be here."

He sighed, “I couldn’t sleep. My mind… it is always racing.”

You sat down beside him, your hand caressing his back while you placed the other on his tired knuckles, hoping for him to set down his tools and stop whatever he's working on even just for a minute. “What’s on your mind?”

His gaze dropped to the project in front of him. “The future,” he admitted. “There is so much to be done, so many things I wish to accomplish. But sometimes, I fear I am running out of time.”

You hesitated, heart clenching at his words. In your world, those very ambitions had been his undoing, and it traumatized you.

Stop it, stop it.

In every reality, was he always meant to lose himself? You really hoped not. No matter how much you wanted to avoid this thought, it somehow always manages to be brought up.

But does it matter? You know that the time will come where you have to go back where you really belong and leave this version of your Viktor.

The love that you also once had, but now could only dream of staying forever.

Although hard, you did your best to steady your breathing. You didn't want to overshadow Viktor's anxious thoughts.

“You’re not alone in this,” you said softly. “You don’t have to carry everything by yourself. I thought you said you wanted to remember the precious little moments. So, live in it. Stop worrying about the future.”

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours. “You always say the right thing.”

You forced a smile. “That’s because I know you better than anyone else.”

But the truth was, you didn’t just know him—you also knew this other version of him from your world, you knew what he could become. And it terrified you.

Days passed and the tension had been building up. Viktor noticed it every time your gaze lingered too long on him, or when you hesitated before answering his questions. He had given you space, knowing you would come to him when ready, but his patience was running thin. He was afraid you were growing distant again.

Tonight, you stood by the large window of his lab, staring out at the glittering lights of Piltover below. The night air was cool, or perhaps it just felt cooler for you as you stood there with no clothes and only a fine piece of blanket covering your body.

It was one of those intimate nights with Viktor. And it felt good. Every single time. It’s like witnessing a rare flower bloom, delicate and fleeting. His guarded walls would soften, revealing a tenderness he shows only to you. In bed with Viktor is an art itself—a gentle dance of patience and understanding where every glance, every touch, every sweat and spit that mingled together, or every whispered word carries the weight of his unspoken trust and love to you.

“Something troubles you,” Viktor said, his voice breaking the silence. He sat on your shared bed, picking up his cane that was resting against the bedside table. “You’ve been awfully quiet these past few days.”

"Viktor," You turned to face him, your heart pounding. “I… I don’t know how to tell you this.”

He stepped closer, eyes filled with worry. “You can tell me anything. You know that.” The lab was quiet except for the occasional clink of his cane.

You knew this moment would come. It had to. But even as the words danced on the edge of your tongue, fear rooted you in place.

You glanced at Viktor, his brow furrowed, the light from the night sky cast a soft glow on his features, making him look impossibly gentle. You loved him like this.

But that was why it was so hard.

What if this breaks him?

You had seen him push himself to the brink before, working tirelessly on problems that seemed insurmountable. And you didn't want to see it again. Not this Viktor. He was always a man who carried the weight of his failures like scars. If you told him the truth, would he see this as another problem to solve? Would he push himself too far, trying to find a way to keep you here?

You swallowed hard, anxiously biting the nail of your thumb. How do you tell someone you love that you don’t belong in their world? The rational part of you whispered that he would understand. Viktor valued logic and reason. He believed in the principles of the universe. It felt impossible to explain something that didn’t make sense, even to you. But you knew Viktor. He was a man of science, after all.

He’ll listen. He’ll understand.

But another part of you—the part that knew him on a level deeper than logic—feared what this truth would do to him. You’d seen what happened when he lost control, when the weight of his ambition threatened to crush him.

And now, I’ll be the one adding to that weight.

Your heart raced, panic warring within you. This was it—the moment you’d been dreading.

You took a shaky breath, hands trembling at your sides. “I’m not… from here, Viktor. Not from Piltover, not even from this version of it.”

He blinked, the weight of your words clearly hitting him. “What do you mean?”

There’s a quiet, almost overwhelming relief that washes over you after finally speaking the words you’ve held inside for so long.

“I come from another reality,” you began, “A version of this world where… where you’re different. Where Hextech consumed you. Where I lost you to your ambition. I lost you, Viktor.”

Viktor’s expression shifted from confusion to disbelief. You wanted to cry. You wanted to collapse and be wrapped around his arms to tell you that everything was okay.

"Please... Viktor, say something."

His expression faltered, his brows knitting together in something close to pain. “Lost me?”

To a guarded understanding, he sat back down to bed, fingers gripping the mattress as if to steady his thoughts. A part of him didn't believe you, but not in a sense that he thinks you were a liar, like this is just some sick joke you were making. No, he didn't want to believe you because he was in denial. He is aware of the possibility, but the thought of you two becoming gradually estranged again frightened him.

“And how did you find your way here?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “One day, I was there, and then… I wasn’t. I ended up in this world, where you became someone I didn’t recognize." A single tear rolled down your cheek. "You’re kind, and thoughtful, and everything I…” You trailed off, swallowing hard. “Everything I love.”

The words hung heavy in the air, and Viktor’s gaze dropped, his expression unreadable. You weren't sure if he was hurt or scared, but most likely both.

“I don’t know how or why. And I thought… I thought maybe this was a second chance. But I have been thinking about it, and i realize that I don’t belong in this world, Viktor.”

“But why not?” his gaze snapped back at you, voice sharp with sudden intensity. It bothered you. You are not used to seeing him react this way.

“Because this isn’t my life. This body, it isn't mine. It is my other self's,” you said, tears stinging your eyes. “I’m not part of this world. There are people back there who need me and I don’t know how long I can stay before things start to… unravel.”

“Unravel?” he repeated, his brow furrowing.

“Your life, your work. You have a purpose here, Viktor. A future. And I can’t take that from you. If I stay, we might change the directory of your path in ways we can’t control. I might hold you back.”

He shook his head, his jaw tightening. “You could never—”

“I could,” you interrupted, your voice breaking. “I could, Viktor. And I couldn’t live with myself if I did," your heart broke at the pain in his face, “I don’t want to go. But we both know I have to.” ୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ

Nine months. Then a year.

The days blurred together, slipping into a pattern that felt both comforting and heavy. Viktor had promised to help you find your way back to your home, and for a time, you’d believed him. How could you not? You’d seen him throw himself into his work countless times before, solving impossible problems with the same determination that made him who he was.

At first, it seemed no different. Late nights in the lab, the sound of his pencil scratching against paper, his sharp muttering as he adjusted his calculations. You’d grown used to seeing his brilliance in action, to watching him work with a focus so intense it seemed the world around him didn’t exist.

But now, a year later, the key to returning you to the life you left behind was still unfinished.

It wasn’t a lack of progress; no, you’d seen the sketches, the prototypes, and the occasional tests of the machinery. But something about the way he worked felt off. The urgency that usually drove him seemed... dulled. His pace slower than it had ever been. He would linger over details, rechecking calculations he’d already solved perfectly, or pause to talk with you in the middle of his work, something he rarely allowed himself to do.

At first, you’d convinced yourself it was a good thing. Viktor, taking his time? Taking breaks? It felt like a small miracle. You’d even praised him for it once, calling it “progress.” He had chuckled at that, his gaze lingering on you longer than it should have.

But now, sitting across from him in the dim light of the lab, you couldn’t ignore the truth any longer.

He wasn’t taking his time because he needed to.

He was taking his time because he didn’t want to let you go.

The realization hit you like a wave, a mix of warmth and guilt that made your chest tighten. You couldn’t blame him for wanting to hold onto this. For wanting to hold onto you. You felt it too, every time he reached for your hand, or every time his eyes softened when he looked at you. The thought of leaving him felt like a wound that wouldn’t heal.

But the longer you stayed, the more your fears grew. What if my being here changes everything? you wondered. What if it disrupts his life, his work, his future? It is not impossible to happen and you weren't going to risk it.

You couldn’t ignore those questions, no matter how much you wanted to.

“Viktor,” you said softly, breaking the quiet hum of the lab.

He glanced up from his workbench, his eyes tired. “Yes, my love?”

You hesitated, your fingers curling against the fabric of your sleeves. His voice was so gentle, so trusting, that it made what you had to say feel even harder.

For a moment, you stared at him, taking in the sharp lines of his face. He looked exhausted but content, as though he were savoring a rare peace. And maybe he was. Maybe that peace came from you.

“You’ve been working on the portal for a while now,” you said carefully. “I just… I know you’re capable of finishing it. But... Is something holding you back?”

He stilled, his pencil hovering above the blueprint in front of him. His expression shifted and your stomach twisted, as did his. He thought you were never going to notice his dishonesties, let alone ask about it, but it has been a little over a year already, of course you would find out.

“I suppose,” he began quietly, torn between admitting it or not, and he did, “I am simply selfish.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Selfish?”

He nodded slowly, his hands folding in his lap as he stared down at the table. “I know what I promised you. And I intend to keep that promise. But…” He exhaled shakily, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Every moment you are here, I feel as though I have been granted a gift I do not deserve. To finish the portal would be to let go of that gift. To let go of you.”

The rawness of his words struck you like a physical blow. You felt your eyes sting, tears threatening to spill, but you forced yourself to hold them back. Crossing the room, you knelt beside him, your hands trembling as they reached for his.

“Viktor... my love... Listen to me,” you said, voice thick with emotion. “You’re not selfish. You’re just… human.”

His eyes met the floor, and the vulnerability in them made your chest tighten. “But I don’t want to let you go,” he admitted, his voice barely audible.

“And I don’t want to leave,” you confessed, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

The air between you felt heavy with a truth neither of you could deny. For a moment, he simply looked at you, his eyes searching yours as though trying to memorize every detail. Then he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, so gentle it made your heart ache.

“But we both know,” you continued, your voice trembling, “that I can’t stay. Viktor… this isn’t my world. As much as I wish it could be, it’s not.”

He closed his eyes, his jaw tightening. “You think I care about that?”

“No,” you said softly, shaking your head with a little chuckle. “But I do. People in my world need me. And I care about what happens to you. About what happens to this version of you. You have so much ahead of you, Viktor. Your work, your future. It’s too important to risk.”

His hand fell away, and he turned his gaze back to the table, his expression shadowed. “Then I suppose I must stop stalling.”

“Keep your promise,” you said, your voice trembling.

His head tilted slightly, and he looked at you with quiet curiosity.

“When it is ready… you have to let me go.”

The silence that followed felt like it stretched on forever. Finally, he nodded, his shoulders slumping under the weight of the promise. “I promise,” he said, though his voice carried a pain that made your heart ache.

You barely had time to react as Viktor pulled you into his arms, his movements both sudden and careful. He held you like you were something fragile. Like the mere thought of letting you go would shatter him. He placed you onto his lap, his limp leg struggling but he couldn't care less. His fingers traced the curve of your back, his face buried in your shoulder as if he were trying to memorize the feel of you, the warmth of your skin.

The weight of his embrace made it hard to breathe, not because it was suffocating, but because it was overwhelming in its intensity. Viktor, who so often seemed distant and unreachable, was clinging to you.

“Please don’t go yet,” he whispered, voice breaking.

Tears slipped down your cheeks, hot and unrelenting. “I’m still here, Viktor,” you said, your hands clutching the fabric of his shirt. “I’m still here.”

His grip on you tightened for a moment before he pulled back, just enough to look at you. His amber eyes were glassy with unshed tears, lips slightly parted as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. You had seen him angry, frustrated, exhausted, but never like this.

Never this open, this vulnerable.

“Every second with you feels like a miracle,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “And yet, it is not enough. It will never be enough.”

You reached up to cup his face, your thumbs brushing against the sharp line of his cheekbones. “Viktor…”

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing as he exhaled shakily. “Tell me this,” he said softly. “Tell me this is as difficult for you as it is for me.”

“It is,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “Every moment I spend with you makes it harder to imagine leaving. But I can’t—”

“I know,” he interrupted, his voice a near whisper. His hands moved to cradle your face, his long fingers trembling slightly against your skin. “I know. And yet, I cannot stop wanting you. Needing you.”

His words were raw and desperate. Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours with a gentleness that made your heart ache.

The kiss was reluctant at first, like he was afraid of overwhelming you. But when you responded, pressing closer with your hands tangling in his hair, it was as if something inside him broke. His restraint melted away, replaced by a deep, aching need that made your chest flutter.

His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. The kiss deepened, and you can feel him growing underneath you. You let out a muffled whine. The way he pressed his lips against yours made it almost impossible for you to make more sound.

His lips moving against yours with a desperation that was almost visible as soft groans and whimpers came out of his throat from here and there. You could feel the unspoken emotions pouring out of him. The fear, the longing, the love he couldn’t seem to put into words.

Tilting your head to deepen the kiss, you felt his warm exhale against your lips, the tension in his body giving way to something raw. His hands slid from your face down to your shoulders, to your waist, then to your ass where his fingers pressed firmly as though to anchor himself in the reality of you.

“Mmh…” Viktor murmured against your lips, the vibration sending a shiver down your spine. “I love you, moe serdtse. You make me… forget myself,” he murmured, his voice trembling.

You laughed softly, your own breath shaky. “You make it sound like a bad thing.”

His answering hum was deep and low, and the way his arms tightened around you spoke louder than words. “Perhaps it is not,” he admitted, his voice thick with feeling.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your fingertips brushing against his cheekbones. He was flushed, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to steady his breathing. You leaned in again, letting your lips graze his, and he made another soft, needy sound, his hands moving to your back to pull you closer.

You pulled back for air, and his forehead rested against yours, breaths coming fast and uneven. His eyes still closed, and you knew if he opened it, it would be filled with nothing but the look of loving for you. “You make me weak,” he confessed, his voice barely audible. “I am not accustomed to this… to feeling so much, so deeply. Even until now, it terrifies me.”

You swallowed hard, your fingers brushing against the side of his face.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The lab was quiet, save for the faint hum of the machinery in the background. His hands lingered on your waist, his touch grounding you in a moment that felt fleeting.

“I will finish the portal,” he said finally, his voice steady despite the tears that glistened in his eyes. “I will keep my promise. But until then… let me have this. Let me have you.”

Your heart ached at the sincerity in his voice, the unspoken plea that hung between you. “You already have me,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “You always will.”

He kissed you again, slower this time, tasting you. It wasn’t a goodbye. It was a promise, one that neither of you could bring yourself to say aloud.

For now, you were here. Together. And though the future loomed uncertain and heavy, you knew this moment was yours.

Who Are You? (Series Masterlist)

Kuki Urie x OC

Rated Mature (18+)

Reina Nakou, was a mystery to almost everyone who worked with her at the CCG. Her lively-almost childish manners-seemed to drive everyone away from her. And it didn't help the way she dressed wasn't in anyway modest.

Though those who decided to get to know her know that she's actually quite an intelligent woman, she just puts up this facade. For what reason? They don't know exactly. But as they dig deeper into her past, something doesn't add up.

warnings: canon level violence, mentions of rape, depictions of sexual content, nudity, sexual innuendos, alcohol, sex, fluff, angst, slow burn, gore, torture, masterbation

Started: January 2024 Ended: Published: February 21, 2024 (Cross posted on Wattpad, and AO3)

Act I: Auction

Prologue: Reina Nakou

Chapter 1: Remit to see, limit to see—Remind

Chapter 2: Regent

Chapter 3: Recreation—Redoubt

Chapter 4: Remiss—Reckon

Chapter 5: Let it Rain Blood—Refrain

Chapter 6 TBA

Chapter 7 TBA

Chapter 8 TBA

Act II: Rose Extermination

TBA

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Act III: Cochlea Raid

TBA

Act IV: Goat

TBA

Act VI: Dragon

TBA

Tag list:

Chapter 2: Regent

previous chapter  masterlist next chapter

The sound of skin to skin contact echoed throughout the meeting room. Pale skin becomes red as blood flows to the surface of it. A mild stinging pain could be felt, the feeling of embarrassment flooded his senses, but he kept a cool front. His poker face never faltered no matter how humiliated he was.

A sense of lingering anger and authority dropped from the hand that slapped the boy. His face filled with worry as his voice spoke out,

"A squad leader can't put his squad members' lives at risk." His voice was serious.

He was dead serious, and it showed not just through his expressions, but through his violent actions. He'd never once laid a hand on them no matter the circumstance, but he felt the need to express it this time to show that he was the one in charge for once and wouldn't be put down.

"It's dangerous to show our back to the enemy. I took the possibility of Orochi pursuing and attacking us from the rear into consideration." He defended himself.

He stared at Haise the whole time and asked him, "does that warrant a slap in the face?"

"You think you're so smart. Why else do you think I called for Haise? You would've died had it not been for me telling him as soon as we left to pursue Torso." Reina yelled at the foolish boy.

His ego got too big that he almost killed himself and the rest of his team all because of his selfish desires. Haise stood still as everything unveiled itself.

"Ghoul investigators must run even if their arms and legs are torn off!!" He raised his voice, veins popped out the side of his neck. His face contorted into one of worry.

"We'll have our chance as long as we're alive. What can we do if we're dead?!"

Sighing, Reina got in between both boys and put a hand on each of their shoulders. She pushed Urie away a bit and turned to face him.

"Urie I'm relieving you from duty as Squad Leader of the Quinx Squad." She stated.

Again Urie started arguing, he made sure his voice was heard when he said, "I find this unacceptable," but both of them didn't budge, instead Haise put his foot down and in an authoritative voice jibed, "it's an order."

Gritting his teeth Urie breathed heavily leaving a heavy suspenseful silence in his wake until he sneered at both of them, "but you're both ghouls..."

His eyes widened meanwhile the rest of the squad squeaked in surprise at his bold claim. How could he disrespect their mentors?! Shirazu wasted no time in beating some sense into the boy.

"You're a piece of shit!!" He yelled as he kicked the purple haired boy.

He continued to lecture the boy about how responsible and considerate their mentors were. How they both risked their lives for theirs. He tussled him around like a rag doll, Urie having no reaction to the treatment he was getting at the moment. Instead he looked behind him where Mutsuki was standing.

There the shy boy stood watching Shirazu manhandle Urie. Noticing that he was looking back he decided to speak up.

"Urie.. I.. I'd like you to apologize to Instructors Sasaki and Nakou."

"Shirazu let him go." Reina raised her hand in a stop motion.

Following her order he did so slowly. Looking back at his mentors he noticed that Haise was about to speak up.

"No matter what he says, my decision is final. Besides, I'm appointing Rank 3: Investigator Shirazu as Squad Leader." He pointed at the blonde.

Shirazu screeched and tried to protest. He had no idea what Sasaki was thinking, but this wasn't right. Him? Squad leader?! Those two things should never be in the same sentence. Haise reassured him that he'd teach him what it means to be a leader.

Turning to face the boy that was walking away he playfully hit him a small smile gracing his lips that didn't quite reach his ears.

"Urie. You keep disobeying me and I'll eat you! I'm a ghoul, remember?" He chuckled softly.

Having nothing else to say, the denoted boy just walked out the room. Noting Haise's weird behavior she walked behind him and patted his shoulder making him look down at her figure. She smiled weakly at him and left to follow after Urie.

She looked around everywhere and found him sitting on the couch by himself in the living room. Deciding to sneak up on him she quietly approached him and hugged him tightly against her chest. Startled at first he tried to pull her arms off of him until he heard the familiar sound of her voice reach his ears.

"Got ya." She tilted his head so he could look up at her.

Huffing he let her have her way with him. She let go and climbed over the couch to sit on the glass coffee table. Her small figure leaning back, strands of lilac hair letting loose from her messy bun.

"I'm going to make it quick since we have to wake up early tomorrow." She put it simply as she crossed her legs.

He looked her dead in the eye and motioned for her to get on with what she initially came here for.

"You need to learn to respect others, you know. If you keep up this rude attitude it won't make others like you. Now since I started living with you I've learned a few things." She started.

"You don't like sweets, so I don't know why you have that with you. Two you don't care for relationships, whether it's romantic or platonic it doesn't matter. You push those who care for you away all because of your personal goals." She sat upright and stood up walking behind the couch.

"Let me tell you from personal experience... you'd rather have friends or people you can call acquaintances than enemies. Why? Because you don't know when the last time you'll need them by your side is. If you have no one to be there for you, you'll feel lost." She leaned over it and whispered in his ear,

"I know you don't care about these mundane matters, but it'll come and bite you back in the ass. Especially if you mess with the wrong people." She breathed out and turned around to leave.

"And who would those people be?" His voice echoed throughout the vacant room.

The girl stood glued in her place.

"Since I started living with you I've learned a few things." He mocked.

She turned around and smirked.

"Yeah? Like what?" She taunted.

"You've been acting up since you moved in. Not a single time have you actually acted yourself. This little vulgar act you're putting up isn't fooling anyone. Who are you? Is the real question, Reina Nakou." His voice dripped of venom.

She smiled at his words and walked up to pat his cheek.

"I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, darling."

wc: 1.1k previous chapter  masterlist next chapter

a/n: short chapter cause of writers block but also because I wanted to stop meshing chapters together for a bit. Next chapter will be a bit longer but shorter than the previous ones.

ps. school is gonna kick me in the ass soon so… spontaneous updates will ensue

Tag list:

I only know pain. Arcane writers only know pain and while I’m all here for it, I can’t take it.

My Atlantis, We Fall | Finale

Part 1. Part 2.

Summary: A childhood friendship between Viktor and you grow into unspoken love, but your paths diverge when Viktor left you behind. Still heartbroken, you unexpectedly reunite during Progress Day after years, only to cause more heartbreak.

Pairing: Viktor Arcane X Female Reader, she/her pronouns

Warnings: ANGST, death, made up last name for Viktor, no mentions of Y/N.

Words: 6.3k

A/N: I really hope you like how this ended as much as I did! And thank you so much for 1k followers! I went from 600 to 1.1k in a span of 3 days 😭 Y'all are crazy for the viktorussyyy

The rain fell in relentlessly. Each droplet is a cold mnemonic of the rage and fear in your heart after what you just saw. The same droplets pressed Viktor's hair against his forehead and ran down his hollow cheeks like tears he was unable to shed. It was enough to sober him up.

You strode down the cobblestone street, footsteps splashing into shallow puddles of water. Viktor's irregular steps resonated behind you, his walking stick struggled to grip the slippery surface. He looked utterly lost. Vulnerable. A man stripped of his intellect. It reflected the agitation within him, but he didn't care if he'd stumble to the ground again and let the pavement scratch his skin just to catch you. Not right now. “Would you please stop walking away and talk to me?!” The loudness of his voice broke through the roaring storm, piercing its way through the wind to envelop you.

You froze mid-step, shoulders tensing as if his words had hit you physically. His words worsened the anger inside you. You kept on moving, the rain blurring your vision.

“Please!” he called again, and this time, the pain in his voice drew you back, completely halting you in your tracks. You turned sharply, water splashing from your drenched clothing, it mirrored the landslide of emotions breaking free from inside of you. Your chest heaved with each breath; tears mixed with the rain as you locked onto Viktor's gaze. His eyes were filled with desperation, glowing like orange lanterns in the middle of this storm. “Me?!” You sneered, a sense of bitterness lingering in the atmosphere. “You’re seriously the one talking about walking away? About communication?! Do you even hear yourself, Viktor?!” You stepped closer to his face, voice rising. You could see each detail of his face now; their beauty remains evident even amid all the gloom, but you didn't let them distract you. “Did you forget what you did? Or have you just convinced yourself they didn't matter?” Viktor flinched, as if each word was an arrow pointed straight to his heart. He opened his mouth, only to close it again, shame smothering him in the silence.

“I remember,” he said after the pause, his tone careful. “I remember everything. I remember them every single day.” You laughed, “Oh, do you? Then you must recall leaving without so much as a word. Treating me like I was a puzzle to solve only to discard me as soon as I didn’t align with your bigger plan!” Your voice cracked, the hurt threatening to overflow like the rain around you. “Like I was disposable...” His breath hitched, shaking his head in disagreement with what you had said. His grip on his cane tightening until his knuckles turned white. “You were never disposable—”

"Then why did you make me feel like so?" You cut him off.

Viktor paused, taking a small time to take in the look in your face caused by his actions. “I just... I thought… I thought I was doing the right thing. That if I let you go, I could—” He halted, words choking him. “I thought it would protect you. That you would be safer. Happier without me.” “Protect me?” you mocked, almost closing the distance. “You hurt me, Viktor! You didn’t protect me! You shattered me!”

You thought his response was completely ridiculous. But did you genuinely believe that thought? It was clear that your anger is distorting your perspective again. Still, you have every right to feel that way. His face crumpled as your words struck home, his free hand reaching for you but stopping, trembling. “I know,” he said hoarsely. “I know what I did to you. There’s no excuse, no justification that could ever make it right. But please… please let me try to explain.”

"Just go easy on him, alright? He’s not great at these things." Jayce's words echoed in your thoughts, bringing back the image of Viktor coughing and bleeding. You never wanted to imagine it again. It felt as though it was your own care and affection for Viktor reaching out to you, urging you to truly listen to him. That beneath the anger, your love for him that had never fully disappeared was talking to you.

“Go ahead, then. Explain. Tell me why it was okay to tear my heart apart and just let me live with it.” You crossed your arms tightly over your chest, feeling a chill that were more from the sight of him rather than from the cold air.

He took a cautious step forward, but this time you didn't pull back. You’re closer to him than ever before that you can smell his musky scent, so close that you can nearly tune into his thoughts and feel the rhythm of his heartbeat. His eyes filled with vulnerability, and deep inside you can feel them pinching your heart.

“I was a fool,” he began, briefly looking down before focusing on your gaze once more. “I- I told myself I was being selfless, letting you go for your sake. But the truth is, I was terrified of what you made me feel. As we grew older, it also grew more seriously inside me. That scared me. I was scared that those emotions would derail me from dreams. Dreams that I would sacrifice my life for. And I was a coward for that."

His words were like a glimpse of hope in your confusion. You could sense how heavy they were and almost feel his struggle. But then, Viktor paused, remembering another mistake he had made.

“What you saw up there… with Sky... I am so sorry. I was drunk. No, I am drunk.” Viktor chuckled and scratched his head, feeling embarrassed as he recalled his recent actions. “I thought I saw you. I thought it was you kissing me.” He took a deep, shaky breath. “But it wasn’t you. It was her. It was a mistake, a horrible mistake, and it hurts me to know that I let myself forget you for even a moment. I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted anyone else, not after what we shared. I was trying to make myself feel something, anything, other than the pain of losing you. But all I did was make everything worse.”

This hit you deeply, making your chest feel tight, but it wasn’t enough. You still had barriers up, barriers that Viktor's words had not yet broken through.

As his words lingered in the air, your emotions swirled. You're still hurt, but you were validated. You couldn't put it into words, but the next words that came out of Viktor's mouth were both surprising and somehow anticipated.

He hesitated, eyes filled with everything he had kept inside. “I have struggled... in vain,” he began, “I’ve fought against this... against you. But I can bear it no longer..."

Countless thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to predict Viktor's next words while allowing him to keep speaking.

"The past years have been nothing but torment. I thought I was doing the right thing. I only intended to protect you.” His voice faltered as he took a step closer, as if you two weren't already close enough. His gaze softened, searching yours. “But I was wrong.”

Viktor cupped your face gently, his hands fitting the curves of your skin as if they were meant to be there, as if the Gods made them to touch you in this way. Every delicate contour of your facial structure seemed to align perfectly with each line of his palms, like another way of promising you his love if not through words.

His hands remained steady against your skin to which you subconsciously leaned onto, eyes fluttering closed as you exhaled softly. "Viktor, please..."

His touch soothed the storm inside you. So intimate, so real.

You waited for him to speak again, breath caught in your chest.

Viktor swallowed hard as the words finally came out, tears gathering around his eyes. “Please, end my agony... I... I love you.”

Those three words struck you like a speeding bullet train, each one ringing in your chest. They were impossible to ignore. His touch, his words—they were enough to lift the burden you carried for years.

But even with that weight gone, there was still something else lingering deep inside you.

Doubt.

The kind of doubt that was seeded long ago, as though it was permanent. The kind that couldn’t be erased with just three words, no matter how heartfelt they are.

You smiled, but it wasn’t the smile Viktor hoped for. It wasn’t the soft, tender response he had imagined after pouring his heart out to you.

No, it was something else. It was a smile that spoke more of deflection. The kind of smile that said, 'nice try'. The kind that concealed the sensitivity still flowing within you, and beneath that, a hint of doubt.

"If you really love me then you shouldn't have left me."

୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ

The weeks that followed were unfriendly to Viktor, as if the universe had conspired to reflect the torture he felt inside.

He buried himself in his research, and the lab became more of a prison than a shelter. The spark of his amber eyes has now been replaced by a hollow stare of sleepless nights.

The edges of his frame were frail. His already lean figure was exposed, with skin appearing even more pale. Dark circles etched themselves under his eyes and bruises of his own making from the nights he spent pouring every inch of his body into the study instead of rest.

His lips, once soft and quick to curl upward into a smile, are now chapped and pushed into a line. Clothes hung loosely over him, and the fabric of his coat looked heavier than the man wearing it. As he coughed, a deep, ragged sound would scrape off of his lungs, with random nose bleeds occurring here and there—Jayce noticing even more crimson specks smearing his handkerchief.

Still, Viktor dismissed everyone.

He denied recognizing the physical impact his work had on him and dismissed the worries with a feigned nonchalance. Now, his focus was singular: perfecting his research and proving that his sacrifice was not in vain.

But his hands trembled day by day, and the tension of lifting his tools became almost impossible. The recognizable sound of his cane hitting the floor now stands as a touching reminder of his deteriorating health.

୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ

For several weeks, the rain kept pouring. It seemed like the weather understood your and Viktor's feelings.

You were savoring a warm cup of tea when gentle knocks vibrated at your door.

You hesitated before answering. Upon opening it, Sky stood there, drenched and shivering. Her eyes red as though she had been crying.

You gripped the doorframe, eyes rolling and your jaw clenching. “What do you want?” you asked coldly, the sight of her bringing back memories that you're still trying to forget.

Sky fidgeted, fingers twisting together nervously. “Look, I know I’m the last person you want to see right now,” she began, her voice barely audible over the rain. “But I need to talk to you. Please. It’s about Viktor.”

Just hearing his name triggered an unwelcome pain that cut through the walls of your living room. You moved to close the door, unwilling to entertain whatever she had to say, but her hand shot out, gripping it with strength that caught you off guard.

"Excuse me?" You scoffed.

She cried out, “Please, just hear me out. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.”

Ugh.

With hesitation, you moved aside and nodded you head toward the living room for her to enter, your arms crossed as you observed her walk into your house. Her wet clothes left a trail of water on the floor, but she seemed oblivious, her focus entirely on you. She looked smaller than you remembered, her confidence was replaced by an almost childlike vulnerability.

“I’m really sorry,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “For everything. For the kiss… for the way I acted. I didn’t mean for any of it to happen.”

For the second time today, you rolled your eyes, lips curled into a bitter smile. “Is that why you’re here? To apologize? I've been trying to erase that from my memory, so if you're just here to remind me about it then please, feel free to leave.”

Sky shook her head no, hands clenching into fists at her sides. “No. I- I’m not here to make excuses. I know what I did was wrong, and I know how much it hurt you. But you need to know the truth.” She took a shaky breath, her eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that was almost uncomfortable. “I’ve liked Viktor for as long as I can remember. For years, I thought… I thought maybe he could feel the same way about me because we're always together. But that night… that kiss… I know he wasn’t thinking of me.” Her voice broke and she looked away, cheeks flushing with shame. “He was thinking of you."

Yeah, I know.

Her words lingered, combining affirmation and hurt. “Is that why you’re here?” you asked, your tone sharp. “To tell me that Viktor loves me? I- How do you even know me?”

Sky’s eyes filled with tears, her composure finally breaking.

“No,” she whispered. “I’m here because Viktor is dying.”

Viktor is dying.

The words played over and over in your mind. They are louder each time, drowning out everything else. The idea of losing him permanently this time made your stomach twist painfully. Tears threatened to spill, but you fought hard to blink them away.

Viktor’s “I love you," from a few weeks ago came back to your senses. They were never quite enough to erase all the anger, pain, and doubt he had left behind. Those three words were supposed to heal, but they didn’t; they couldn’t. They weren’t strong enough to undo the hurt.

But now, this another set of three words hit you harder than you thought possible. They weren’t warm or hopeful. They didn’t carry promises of love or second chances.

Yet somehow, they did what his “I love you” couldn’t.

Those three words, so opposite in meaning, tore through every bitter thought and resentment you held.

All they left behind was the truth that none of the hurt mattered anymore.

None.

You couldn’t lose him. Not now. Not like this.

Sky's words stole the air from your lungs. “W- what?” you managed to choke out.

Sky took a step closer, seemingly wanting to offer you some comfort. “He’s in the hospital. Jayce took him there after he collapsed. He… he’s not doing well.”

You wanted to say something, anything, but your thoughts were in a tangle of mess. Words failed you as you reached for your coat, the overwhelming need to get to Viktor as soon as possible overriding everything else.

You were halfway to the door, hand trembling on the handle, when Sky’s voice broke through your chaotic blur. “Wait… before I forget,” she said, the tone almost nervous.

You turned to face her, your impatience barely masked. Sky fumbled through her bag, pulling out a small blue leather-bound notebook. Its edges scuffed, and its cover worn with age. Her hands were shaking as she extended it toward you.

“This is his,” Sky spoke gently, her voice shaking in a way that reflected the quiver of her hands. “When Viktor left it on his table, I… I opened it. It was a few years ago. I wasn’t trying to invade his privacy. I was just looking for research notes, trying to understand what he was working on. But I found this instead.”

You paused, gazing at the notebook as if it were delicate. "What’s this?" you inquired, voice softer than you meant it to be. Your brows knitted together in confusion, questioning why she felt it was so important to hand this to you right now when every second counted.

We don't have time for this.

Sky looked down, as if she couldn’t bear to meet your eyes. Her fingers lingered on the edge of the notebook before letting it go, pressing it into your hands. “It’s… it’s about you,” she admitted. “You asked me how I know about you, right? This is why. Just… just read it when you can. You’ll understand.”

For a moment, the room was silent except for the muffled rain against your windows. You looked down at the notebook in your hands, its weight suddenly heavier than it had any right to be. Brushing the worn edges, your mind buzzed with questions you didn’t have the time or courage to ask.

What could possibly be in here that Sky believed you needed to see?

But there wasn’t any time to dwell on it now. The fear in your chest wouldn’t let you linger in here any longer.

Viktor's dying, and every second wasted felt like a step closer to losing him.

You clutched the notebook tightly before leaving it on your coffee table, a strange feeling of hope in your gut.

Whatever it contained, it could wait.

Right now, there was only one thing that mattered. You had to get to him.

The journey to the hospital seemed to stretch endlessly, with each second feeling longer than the one before. What should have been a simple fifteen-minute ride felt like it took forever. It was as if the outside world had faded away, leaving only the chaos in your head.

Your eyes were fixed on nothing, your focus lost while the unrelenting motion of the Piltover transport only made your anxiety worse. A heavy dread weighed on you, as if something terrible was already unfolding and you were already too late.

At last, the vehicle stopped.

As soon as it did, you bolted out the door, the cold air hitting you. Frantically, you paced toward the hospital entrance, feet struggling to keep up with the other. Your chest felt drawn in and every breath was a challenge.

You could feel your heart racing painfully in your throat, in your ears, and in your head. Each pound threatening to choke you. Your legs were worn out from running, yet you couldn’t stop. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you swallowed them down, forcing them back. Not now. Not yet.

Viktor needed you, and you had to be strong, even if every part of you wanted to crumble. The hospital doors loomed ahead, the sterile smell of it filling your nose. With each step, the uncertainty bore down on you more severely, causing your legs to shake as you neared the reception.

Please, don’t be too late. Please, don’t be too late. Please, don’t be too late.

The thought circled in your mind like a chant, you could've sworn you were going insane.

You found the room—his room.

Your heartbeat so loudly in your chest you could barely hear your own footsteps, but the sight in front of you stole the breath from your lungs. The door to his room swung open with a force you didn’t even realize you had, the sharp sound of it startling the nurses who clustered around Viktor’s bed.

Their heads snapped toward you in a synchronized motion, as though your entrance was both expected and unwelcome.

They didn’t even try to move out of your way. You didn’t know if they were trying to shield you from the sight of him or if it was a sudden reflex to prevent you from seeing what you already feared.

Your feet felt frozen to the ground as you stood there. You couldn’t even take in the full picture of Viktor. His form pale and still under the lights of the hospital room.

The doctor was speaking in a hurried tone, but none of their words seemed to make it past the pounding in your ears. Your mind refused to process anything but the cold, harsh truth that was unfolding before you.

One of the doctors glanced at his watch, his voice steady yet emotionless.

“Viktor Vikhnovich, time of death 4:12 PM.”

The words struck you like a hard punch. It felt as though time stood still. You choked on your breath as you looked at the man who meant everything to you—someone who had been just out of reach.

Dead.

The word echoed in your head, but it felt wrong. No, it has to be a joke.

You wanted to scream, to demand they are mistaken, to rush forward and shake him awake. But your legs refused to move. Your vision blurred, body numb with the shock that hit you like a bullet to the chest.

The doctors moved around you, but you could barely comprehend their actions. You didn’t know if they were trying to offer condolences or explanations. None of it mattered.

All you could see was Viktor lying motionless, as though life had been drained from him just when he needed it the most. It took everything in you not to collapse right there in the doorway.

You walked closer to his laying body; he felt close yet so far. He isn't here anymore.

“No, no, no, no, no,” the words spilled from your lips, your voice trembling and raw as you stumbled forward. You pushed through the heavy air in the room, ignoring the doctors who tried to steady you or pull you back.

You couldn’t hear them. You couldn’t see anything except him.

You reached Viktor’s side, your knees giving out as you collapsed by his bed. “No,” you whispered again, this time softer, as though speaking directly to his now peaceful soul. Your hands hovered over his cheeks, shaking, afraid to touch him and confirm what your heart refused to believe.

His skin was colorless, chest still, and the nasal cannula lay idle. The silence of his lifelessness was more deafening than your cries.

Tears streamed down your face, blurring your vision as you clutched his hand in yours. It was cold, far too cold. Far from the warmth of the pair of hands that heated your cheeks in the middle of the storm just a few weeks ago.

“Viktor, please,” you sobbed, voice breaking with each syllable. “N-no, don’t do this. Don’t leave me. I'm s-sorry.”

The sense of finality rang in your ears.

His face appeared serene, which only boosted your pain.

You couldn’t reconcile this quiet, unresponsive Viktor with the man you knew. The one who argued passionately about science, who lit up at the spark of an idea, the man you've always had an unspoken love with.

You pressed a chaste kiss on his forehead, your tears soaking the lifeless skin of his face.

“This is- this is all my fault…” you choked out. “Viktor, you can’t—” Your voice cracked, unable to finish the sentence, because finishing it meant acknowledging the truth, and you weren’t ready for that.

Your fingers brushed over his cheek and his moles, memorizing every line and angle for the last time.

The world felt wrong. It was too quiet, too still without him in it.

Sure, he hadn’t been a part of your life since the day he walked away, but this was different.

This was final.

The faint hope you’d always held, the possibility of crossing paths again, of hearing his voice, of sharing even one swift moment, was now extinguished.

He was gone, permanently this time.

There would be no second chances, no reconciliation, no more time to bridge the gap that had grown between you.

The doctors and nurses exchanged looks, their expressions a mix of pity and discomfort. Someone murmured something about giving you time, and the sound of footsteps walking away barely registered in your mind.

"Viktor... I love you, too..."

The door clicked shut, leaving you alone with him.

Alone in your grief, your despair.

Alone with the reality that Viktor was gone.

୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ

Six months had passed since Viktor's passing and grief still lingered in every corner of your heart.

It had a way of reshaping your life without your permission. The past few months weren’t about healing, but more about surviving. You woke up every day feeling like a piece of you had been carved out, like there was a void that you carried everywhere you go.

Life continued on even as you grieve, but moving ahead just felt wrong.

It felt wrong to move on from Viktor because of the realization that there weren't many people left to mourn him. It was just you, Jayce, and Sky. However, in time, the three of you will also be gone. And despite all the blood, sweat, and tears Viktor put in, his dreams of leaving a lasting legacy in this world is now impossible to come to fruition.

You didn’t cry every day. Sometimes, it was worse: just complete numbness. The kind where nothing felt real or important anymore.

You ignored his name when it came up in conversations, avoided the places that held his memory, but the pain never failed to find you in the smallest things—a faint scent from the past or the quiet moments before sleep when there was nothing to worry you about having to forgive him.

And yet, you didn’t let it break you. Instead, you kept going. Because you know Viktor would've wanted you to.

Now, as you clean and reorganize your home, you found yourself surrounded by half-packed boxes. The sounds of tape peeling and cardboard shifting kept you distracted from your thoughts, until your hand grazed something tucked into the corner of an old shelf.

A small box, with the letter V written across its lid in faded blue ink.

Your brows knit together. The curiosity that drew you toward the box wasn’t out of curiosity but rather out of realization. You knew exactly what it was. It was Viktor’s. Or rather, a box of things that belonged to him. Things of him from Zaun that you kept. The appearance of it awoken a strong feeling, not only sorrow but also guilt.

"Forgot I still have these." You chuckled, fingers running across the surface of it.

The notebook Sky had given you moments before Viktor's passing had been left untouched. Unread. Seeing it again felt like reopening your own wounds, wounds that were filled with the regret of not having forgiven him when you still had the time to.

You hesitated before lifting the lid, the smell of old paper and dust wafting into your face. Your heart skipped a beat as your gaze fell upon Viktor's notebook, sitting neatly atop a pile of random trinkets and scrap toys you made when you were a kid. But it wasn’t the notebook that stole your breath.

Nestled beneath it was a small, rusted toy boat, blemished by years of being kept away. Your fingers shook lightly as you picked it up, the memories it held flooding your mind like the stream where you used to play with this toy boat.

The boat.

The boat that had drifted too far downstream, leading you to Singed's lab. The boat that had set him on a path to greatness, to dreams so grand that they left no room for the simplicity of your childhood friendship. The boat that had left you behind. The boat that changed everything.

A smile tugged at your lips as you cradled the delicate toy in your hands. Viktor had no idea you kept it all these years. Not when he was consumed by ambition, not when you did the same but with the anger for him for leaving, and certainly not in the moments when you questioned if he even remembered you.

It was lightweight, but it carried the heaviness of nostalgia at the same time.

As you held it, images of your childhood played in your mind like a bittersweet reel. The laughter by the stream, the scent of Zaun's polluted air you never imagined you'd somehow miss, and the way Viktor’s eyes lit up with excitement as you launched the boat for the first time.

"I'll get it!"

"Come onnn, you’ll never catch it," Viktor called out, his voice teasing with worry after you dove into the shallow water to catch the boat. He stood on the bank, leaning lightly on his cane, his frame silhouetted against the golden afternoon light.

Your laughter bubbled up, louder than the gurgle of the stream. "Oh, watch me!"

Viktor shook his head, his lips twitching into a crooked smile. “You’ll be swept away before you even touch it,” he warned.

He stepped closer to the edge as if he could will you back to safety. He would’ve waded in himself if his leg allowed it. You knew that. He always hated being on the sidelines, watching while others took the risks he couldn’t.

“Vik, I’m fineee!” you called out, glancing over your shoulder at him. The current tugged harder the farther you went, but your determination burned brighter. “You’re just mad I’m faster than you.”

His laugh was soft, carried away by the breeze. “Faster, perhaps. Smarter? Doubtful.”

A wistful laugh escaped you as the memory replayed in your mind. Those were the moments before you stumbled upon the cave. If only curiosity hadn’t taken over—then maybe, just maybe—everything would’ve turned out differently.

Perhaps you and Viktor could have grown up side by side and make it Piltover together.

Finally you took the notebook. It sat heavy in your hands. You sighed, brushing the thin layer of dust from the surface. Your fingers hesitating for a moment before you finally flipped it open.

Settling onto the floor with your legs crossed, you prepared yourself for what lay inside.

At first, it was exactly as you expected. Pages filled with equations and wobbly sketches of his prototypes. You couldn’t help but smile as you traced the lines with your eyes, they captured the excellence he was born with.

It was so distinctly Viktor—obsessive, conscientious.

For a brief moment, it felt like he was right there with you, explaining each one of his ideas with his usual avidness, accent curling around the words.

God, you missed him.

As you reached the middle of the notebook, your fingers faltered. There was something different here.

Nestled between the pages was a photo. One you recognized immediately.

Your breath caught as you carefully lifted it, hands trembling slightly.

It was you. An image of a younger version of you at a turning point in your life when your hard work had finally started paying off. The image had been torn from an old newspaper article that featured your story. A story you never even thought Viktor knew or even cared about.

Your eyes shifted to the random affirmations beside the photo in Viktor’s messy handwriting.

"Still the most beautiful."

"I always knew you could make it, too."

"You grew out your hair. It suits you."

"My solnyshka, I hope you carry my love everywhere you go."

And more.

Each line felt like a whisper from him. He wrote them as if he was going to send them to you, as if you were replying to everything he jotted down. They felt like a kiss to your soul that you could almost hear him next to you, sending a shiver down your spine.

You traced the faded ink with your fingers, overwhelmed by the tenderness in every note he left behind.

Viktor had been paying attention all along, even when you believed he had turned his back on you.

Tears blurred your vision as you stared at the photo, the words, and the ghost of his presence woven into the pages. He was right. You indeed looked beautiful, as if you were looking at yourself through his eyes,

This wasn’t just a record of his work, it was also a reflection of the parts of his heart he never fully managed to show you.

And now, here it was, laid bare in your trembling hands.

Your fingers twitched, flipping the pages despite the fear in your heart. A part of you wanted to stop, to close the notebook and shove it back into the box, to avoid whatever might hurt more than you already did. But your curiosity overcame your reluctance, and you flipped to the next page after the other.

What you found stole the breath from your lungs.

In the center of the notebook was a section had been carefully carved out. The edges are neat, every cut made with precision. As if it was a secret pocket.

Within the hollowed space was a ring—a moss agate ring.

The soft green swirls within the stone caught the light, shimmering with a beauty that is so captivating.

It wasn’t extravagant like a diamond, but it was perfect. It felt just like him. Like the Viktor you knew.

The Viktor who found beauty in the simplicity, the meaningful, the genuine.

Your breath hitched as you picked it up, cradling it in your palm.

Moss agate. A stone symbolizing new beginnings and emotional healing. He had chosen it for a reason, you realized, and the realization tightened the ache in your chest even more than before.

It wasn’t just a ring. It was a promise, a reflection of your shared history and of humble beginnings, of scraped knees and childhood laughter, of dreams whispered by candlelight.

As you turned it over in your hand, a folded piece of paper stuck out the notebook, fluttering to the ground like a fragile leaf. You picked it up, noticing the faint smudge of red on the corner.

Blood. His blood. The realization sent a chill through you. Viktor penned this with his own hands, hands that had become frail as his body slowly stagnated.

Unfolding the letter, your breath caught at the sight of his familiar handwriting, every word etched with care despite the shakiness of the strokes.

His voice seemed to reach out to you from the page, the words pulling you into his world one last time.

My little sun,

Should this letter ever find its way to you, I cannot say how or when. Perhaps it never will. But if you’re holding this, it means I am no longer beside you.

I write this not knowing if you’ll ever read it, yet I must. Even if I will never again see your face alight with that smile of yours. There is nothing left to save me, and I’ve tried. I've tried to make peace with it. What weighs heavier than the end itself is leaving you. Knowing I’ve caused you so much pain.

I’ve thought endlessly of us, of the life we shared before it all crumbled.

Do you recall the day we met? You were the only one who didn’t flinch when you saw me. My leg, my limp. They meant nothing to you. You were so small then, full of boundless energy and kindness. You stopped without hesitation to help me gather the rusted scraps I’d dropped. And with that light of yours, you simply asked if I needed help.

Even then, I sensed there was something deeper. Something I wouldn’t understand until much later. From that moment, I knew you were unlike anyone I’d ever known. Only you... could make me feel that way.

I remember those stolen moments by the stream, the times you wept and I tried to comfort you, poorly if I may say. Yet in truth, it was your warmth and your embrace that gave me solace. Your laughter lingers still, echoing in the quiet spaces when I find myself longing for your presence.

And that day in the undercity, when you found that broken toy. You insisted we could fix it, though I swore it was beyond repair. I tried to explain the impossibility with the misaligned gears, but you looked at me with that defiance of yours and said, “We’ll make them fit.” And that we did.

Because that is who you are. Persistent. Always striving to mend what others deem beyond hope, even me. You tried to fix the rift between us when it should have been my responsibility to bear. And in return, I only worsened everything.

Do you remember the night I promised to marry you? We were just children, dreaming of a future that seemed impossibly distant. I don’t know what made me say it. Perhaps it's the way you looked at me, like I could be more than I was. You laughed and called me 'silly', but I meant every word.

Even then, I meant it. I told myself I would build something worthy of you. A life worthy of you.

But instead, I left. I pursued ambitions that devoured me whole and left you behind. And in doing so, I broke us. I see that now, clearer than ever. Though I don’t deserve it, I hope you understand how deeply sorry I am. For leaving, for hurting you, for failing to be the man you deserved.

When I promised to marry you, you told me I’d have to make you a pretty ring. I took that to heart.

I’ve held onto this ring for what feels like lifetimes. It is not grand, not polished like those found in the shops. It is simple. It is us. And it has always reminded me of you.

I don’t know if you’ll ever forgive me. Perhaps I have no right to ask. But you must know this... Loving you was never a regret. It was my only certainty.

You are, and will forever be, my sun. The light I chased even when it burned. You made the impossible seem possible, even for someone like me.

And though I am gone, I hope you will continue to shine. Shine brighter than I ever could.

For both of us.

Yours always, Viktor

Tags: @blackravena @aysluxe @aise-30 @sillyguy49 @22carolina08 @rainyyumbrella @adrestlyd @he4rt4vik @brynneslitteworld @artist2181 @tofueater78 @victormydarling @marshallowy @burning-harmony

Hi there 👋,

My name is Mohammad, a father of three young children living in Gaza. We are facing unimaginable hardships due to the ongoing catastrophic war, and our home is no longer safe. I’ve started a fundraising to raise $40,000 to move my family to a safer place where my children can have a chance at a better future. 💔🍉

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My name is Mohammad Salem Abu Swierh, a husband and father of… Mohammed Abu Swierh needs your support for Help Mohammed's Family From Gaza R