Oh Yeah We Back AND BRICKED 🧱

💕💕

:) you already know 😅 could you do prompt 50 with Kaneki or Urie with fem reader? Thank you, love! Your writing is always magnificent and can’t wait to read this one!

# tags: scenario; current marriage relationship; hot romance; also fluff (kaneki deserve it!); kid!fic, family!au; smut; nsfw

warnings: mention of sex and sexual activities, on the sofa, kaneki wants another baby (breeding), unprotected sex, lactation, sloppy kisses, body worship, bites, pet names

includes: female reader ft. ken kaneki {tokyo ghoul}

author’s note: hii! i wrote about urie for you, so i chose kaneki this time :) i hope you find the plot and tags interesting and you enjoy it. i am also sorry you waited so long :(

50. “S-Stop. Someone is looking at us.”

You breathed a sigh of relief when in the tiny bedroom with two cute beds you could only hear faint snoring and calm breathing. Your (almost) two-year-old daughter had her eyes closed in a white cradle with a pacifier in her mouth, and your five-year-old son was sleeping peacefully in a small bed, cuddled up to his beloved mascot in the shape of a yellow tiger. At the same moment, the very pleasant smell of freshly brewed coffee reached your nostrils, so you just kissed your children on their smol foreheads and then left the room, closing the wooden door behind you. After a while, you returned to the kitchen where your husband was waiting for you.

In his hands there was a black mug with the image of a white cat, and next to his person, on the counter, there was a white mug with the image of the same animal. With a smile, you thanked him for the life-giving caffeine, and a moment later you felt a light kiss on your left cheek. Leaning against the counter, you started a conversation with Ken about light-hearted topics, and somewhere between the first sip of the hot drink and drinking it to the last drop, you moved to the living room, wanting to turn on a movie from the plan to watch list on Netflix app. It was a simple horror movie with a predictable plot and comedy elements. However, the horror faded into the background the moment you started talking again; about your husband’s friend’s birthday party, about household chores, about wanting to go to the mountains, about Ken’s job... There were quite a lot of topics, and the quiet evening and the presence of a few lights hanging on the curtain rod added a pleasant atmosphere between the two of you.

You haven’t had an evening to yourself for a long time; you were busy raising your children and taking care of the house and your husband working hard and earning money for the four of you. Plus, there were many other, unforeseen situations that were often full of emotions, stress, happiness, or great physical and mental effort.

That’s why you needed each other more than usual on this particular night.

The light kiss you received from your partner was full of tenderness and longing. His cool hands touched your waist at one point, and you smiled because of caress, almost melting between the blond man’s fingers.

“... Aren’t you tired, butterfly?” He asked with a slightly raised eyebrow, wanting to respect your possible tiredness and desire to watch the movie to the very end. But you shook your head, giving him a quick smootch on the cheek. Ken took that as an answer and then moved slightly closer to you, while settling your body on the spread out sofa, full of soft pillows and beige blankets. His kisses changed their position in a short moment and now, instead of your lips, his teeth were lightly biting the skin of your neck. A few long seconds later, with his right hand, he pushed aside the nightgown you were wearing and also kissed your breasts, which were still very swollen from feeding the younger child with your own milk. “You’re very beautiful, you know, love?”

Your both cheeks immediately turned red and your eyes sparkled a bit as you felt your panties being slowly pulled down. The long blue fabric stayed in it’s place, as did your husband’s pajama top. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a rather large bulge in Ken’s boxers, but you didn’t comment on it in any way. Too busy touching his body under the material of his clothes, you almost forgot about the condom you kept in several strategic places around the house. So you wanted to reach into the small, mahogany hiding place in the armrest, but your beloved grabbed your hand between his long fingers.

“Maybe you want to have sex without it?” He asked a little uncertainly and a little with hope in his voice; he also couldn’t hide the smile that involuntarily appeared on his lips.

“... Why?”

“Hmm. Wouldn’t you like another child?” He asked, pressing his cock harder against your damp pussy, and you bit your lip, feeling your body heat up even more. “You look very pretty when you’re pregnant, baby.” He added in a light whisper, nibbling on your left ear.

“Oh. Really?” You laughed, and then after a moment of thought, you nodded, retracting your hand and intertwining your fingers with your husband’s.

In a short moment of a few more kisses and sincere compliments about your future pregnancy, you could finally start enjoying your husband’s cock, perfectly fitted to your body, which was entering your wet as fuck pussy with the greatest gentleness. Young man touched specific parts of your body and face every now and then. He adored your breasts, your hips, your neck decorated with several red marks, as well as your deep eyes and lips swollen from pecks.

“Maybe this time we can have twins, huh?” He asked quietly, rolling up your shirt and pinching one of your nipples, and when some of the white fluid came out, he almost ejaculated right inside your hole, thinking about how good you would look with a big tummy and then with another two newborns. “What do you think, Y/N?”

“Mhm… Maybe.” You hummed, your eyes squeezed tightly shut. His fingers wandered through your partner’s soft hair and back, and he held your hips tightly as he bounced against your body. The tip of his cock touching the back of your uterus. You imagined your family growing even bigger and you almost groaned out loud.

However, instead of making any sound between your lips, you heard a slight creaking of the panels in the living room and you opened your eyes at once, looking towards the noise almost inaudible to the human ear.

“S-Stop. Someone is looking at us.” You whispered, your voice hoarse, and then you raised yourself slightly on your elbows, smiling at the five-year-old who was rubbing his eyes with his fists. “W-What happened, Kenji?” You asked your little boy, almost throwing off your husband, who quickly hid under the fabric of the blanket, and you invited the child closer to you.

“...I had a nightmare, mommy.”

“Oh, a bad nightmare? Well then, why don’t you stay here with us and we can talk about something pleasant?” You asked quietly as your son sat down next to you. The boy nodded tiredly and then snuggled closer to you.

You were embarrassed, but with full professionalism, you told a child’s story about dinosaurs and treasure hunting, every now and then sending a glance to your husband who didn’t even know how to react to the situation.

You two will definitely finish what you started, but first you had to take care of your duckling, who – in a short while – will fall asleep.

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

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"Mornin boys, I'll be your escort today." Reina saluted them as they walked out the front door.

She wore a white button up blouse, leaving the first few unbuttoned to show off a good chunk of her cleavage. A coffee colored skirt that hugged her thighs, and her signature 3'' heels. She decided to forego the white coat with something more fashionable—a long beige coat that covered most of her from head to toe. Her hair tied up in a high ponytail.

Shirazu greeted her with a big smile and started to chat with her, but Urie on the other hand wasn't amused. In fact he was annoyed, but at least she was better than their other useless mentor—Haise Sasaki.

He rolled his eyes and walked away from both of them.

"Sorry to interrupt, 'razu, but Urie's leaving without us." She motioned with her thumb that he was at least a good foot away from them.

Quickly apologizing, the blonde boy scurried to catch up to the other boy and whined about how heartless he was for leaving without them. The purple haired boy remained quiet and didn't say a word and instead just kept walking.

Walking behind them she admired the scene in front of her, reminding her of the good times she had with her older sister before they started drifting apart. A small smile was etched on her face.

As they arrived at the warehouse the trio was met with an investigator.

"Aki—I mean Investigator Mado! I came to escort the boys to get their back up quinques." She bowed.

"Investigator Nakou, good to see that you're cleaning up your act. Good to see you too, investigators Urie and Shirazu." She nodded their way.

"Hey, I don't like what you're implying, Mado!" The lilac haired woman argued but sighed in defeat knowing it was true.

During the past few days she's been stepping up and acting more like a mentor than before. But she had yet to drop the facade she'd put up since she entered the CCG as mentioned after Akira spoke to her directly—though she had reason as to why she wanted to sell herself as the dumb-good-for-nothing-bimbo.

"Any progress with the case?" Mado ignored the whining woman and proceeded to converse with the two boys.

Shirazu beamed at the acknowledgement meanwhile Urie just answered her question—annoyed by all the small talk getting in the way of what they were originally came here for.

"A plain Tsunagi." Akira motioned as they were handed their quinque.

"That's so boring." Reina nagged.

"They're backups, and they're still as good as your own quinque."

"You mean Widow? My baby glides through everything so smoothly, I doubt these can be as good as Widow. Can't wait till you both get your own!" She turned to the boys and patted them on their shoulders.

"You two, don't neglect your quinques just because you can use a kagune. The quinque is an anti-ghoul weapon developed by former general chairman Yoshiu Washu—the father of General Chairman Tsuneyoshi Washu, in partnership with the German Bureau Chief Adam Gehenna." Akira went on,

"The CCG engaged ghouls with firearms back then but were ineffective against a ghouls' kagune. Research into an alternative weapon gave birth to the idea of using their own kagune against them—manufactured weapons based on a kagune. Quinques.”

Reina shifted from side to side seemingly uninterested with the topic at hand. She ended up zoning out in between the woman's history lesson on how they came to be.

"A soldier with a built-in quinque, if you will. That is what you Quinxes are. But, even with that ability—you are not ghouls. There are limits to a Quinx's ability." Akira turned to face them all,

"You've never seen Sasaki fight at his best, have you?" She asked.

Both males shook their heads at the higher up, meanwhile Reina just smirked at her question.

"No. But he uses a quinque very skillfully. There's much I can learn from him." Urie reluctantly complimented his useless mentor.

"Well if you both want to know, he's an interesting fighter. He uses techniques he's learned from the CCG until-"

"I think that's enough of that." Akria gave her a pointed look, meaning she's crossing a line that shouldn't be crossed.

"I didn't say anything." Reina giggled and surrendered.

The boys just looked confused as to what was going on between both their mentors. Urie though understood that Reina held a lot more information than she led on. Just how much did she know about Haise Sasaki?

Turning back to the boys, Akira told them to always use their quinques and bid them goodbye.

"Let's get going. I know you both want to go find Torso—and I know you both have a lead on him." She crossed her arms across her chest.

Her face was uninterested as she told them. Immediately Shirazu tried to deny her claim, but quickly came to find out that he was a horrible liar. She could clearly see through him and it didn't help that Urie's usual poker face was falling apart. Veins littering his forehead indicating he was upset at being caught. How foolish could he be thinking that he could get away with such information.

"So you mind telling me your lead or should I tell Haise about this little scheme you have?"

"I think you might wanna speed up if we wanna catch up with them!" Reina yelled, gripping on to Urie's waist so as to not fall off Shirazu's motorcycle.

The three of them piled onto the vehicle, while both boys wore protective gear in case of an accident, Reina wore none at all seeing as she was not involved in the original plan to capture and eradicate Torso. Urie inevitably squished between the blonde boy and lilac haired girl.

"Karao Saeki!" Shirazu yelled.

Behind him Urie urged the same message realizing that they had no chance unless they did so. The blonde concerned about breaking the law hesitated to do so until both of them yelled at him to hurry up. The cab in front of them waved side to side in an attempt to avoid oncoming traffic.

Quickly Urie realized they could have an advantage if a certain person had the capability to do so.

"Take out the tires with your kagune!"

"Are you serious?!"

Looking behind him he saw that the purple haired boy was serious about his idea. Groaning at the plan he did so but warned him that if he missed they weren't to blame him

Swiftly pushing on the gas pedal the blonde released his ukaku. It branched out, spikes formed threatening to detach themselves from their place. Attempting his best at aiming at the cab he released three missiles continuously all imploding as they missed the cab.

Groaning at his incompetence, Urie jabbed at his horrible aim, but Shirazu just threatened to knock him off the bike.

"Could you both shut up and concentrate on the task at hand?!" The forgotten girl scolded the arguing duo.

At this point they were noticed by the cops and were told to pull over. Taking this as an opportunity to alert the cops of the upcoming danger Reina looked behind her and motioned her hand in an upward direction. As if getting the memo immediately the cop car sacrificed itself and pulled up by the cab attempting to tell them to pull over .

But in doing so—Torso—ripped their faces off with his kagune and flung them through the window to dispose of them. With no driver to maneuver the vehicle around it slammed into the wall of the tunnel they drove into. Just as Torso thought he had escaped law enforcement officials, the end of the tunnel was blocked off with a few barricades and cop cars surrounding them.

The cab came to a stop and the drivers door opened revealing a thin, half-naked man with his shirt wrapped around his face in an attempt to keep his identity anonymous. Hopping off the bike they all assumed a stance, not even a few seconds later Torso released his kagune and struck at the trio.

Unsurprised they dodged his attack and moved aside letting the expensive bike take the hit. Regaining his composure quickly, Shirazu released his ukaku and launched his projectiles towards the "masked" man. Shocked, the man was glued to the ground which left him to be the perfect target for the Quinxes onslaught.

They made quick work of him until a new obstacle made themself known to the trio. A masked person in a coat walked out of the shadows, their kagune ready to strike at anyone that gets in their way.

"I'm sorry but that scrawny half-naked guy is ours. You guys are Quinxes right? You use a kagune, right? You Doves make me downright sick. You're no different from Aogiri." The clearly distorted voice echoed throughout their ears.

A sense of familiarity struck the girl. That bikaku, that tone of voice—she swore she heard it from somewhere.

"And now that you've made me sick... I wanna have some." He snapped his head up eyes piercing through the mask,

"Nish-" Reina was interrupted with a strike thrown her way. She backed up and instinctively hid behind the abandoned cars.

Decidedly done with her he switched opponents, Torso long gone from the battlefield. Rate: S Orochi was now the main target. He dashed past the girl and swung his leg into Urie's gut—sending him flying into the wall of the ditch. The boy coughed up blood from the sheer force of the kick to his abdomen.

"Sorry, but I don't hold back against Doves. You'll get in my way one of these days. Better to nip you guys in the bud when I can." He sneered as he neared the bloodied up boy. Behind him Shirazu snuck up behind him and released a few missiles his way thinking they'd absolutely obliterate the masked man.

"What was that? A pea-shooter?" He mocked the blonde boy as he simply dodged them.

Both boys quickly got fed up with all his taunting. Wanting to get this over with, they came at him with all they've got. They swung their kagune and attempted to strike him, but all that came was more frustration. They jumped and leapt from place to place destroying more and more of their surroundings.

He kicked Urie down to the ground, his kokaku shattered and destroyed. He sat down on top of the destroyed cars and looked down at the furious boy, mocking him.

"That's it? For a kokaku? All it took was a kick? Guess it's an imitation after all." He chuckled.

The sound of footsteps could be heard growing louder and louder as they neared—Shirazu. He quickly took a stance and swiped at him releasing his missiles a dust cloud quickly forming not allowing them to see the extent of how much damage the blondes kagune actually did to the ghoul.

Once it cleared away he was left unscathed. Realizing they didn't have a chance to exterminate the Rate: S Ghoul Shirazu opted to retreat until backup came, not wanting to risk his life for something he knew they couldn't handle yet. Angry at his words Urie didn't relent, but instead tried to push forward. His method of keeping alive—self cannibalism.

He dug his teeth into the flesh of his forearm, the sound of squelching and the aroma of blood overwhelmed his senses. Reina looked his way, the smell of blood enticing her to take a bite of him. She shook her head and walked towards them.

"Hey four eyes! Seeing as they're useless, how about we have a match of our own?" She yelled out, a smirk creeping up her lips.

The ghoul turned around and looked at her,

"What's a bimbo like you doing in the CCG?"

"Still judging others based on their looks, Nishi? How about I remind you how strong me and my sister were when we kicked your ass."

She released her rinkaku, purple like tentacles reached out in front of her and in the blink of an eye they cleanly cut his hand off. She sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"Shit, I'm getting rusty. I meant to go for your whole arm. Luckily I got the other one though." She mumbled as she waved it around in her hand.

Her squad looked at her in awe and fear, the sheer speed and talent to distract someone was a talent to have at this point. They looked back at his figure and noticed that he was regenerating at a quick pace. His thick bikaku swayed back and forth before it readied to strike her until a quinque split it in half. She dissolved her kagune and watched the back up she called come to their aid.

"Sasan!!"

"Sir!"

"Who the hell are you? The king of the imitators?"

"Mutsuki, contact Investigator Mado.”

The man didn't respond to his taunting voice and instead went to attack the ghoul without a second thought. He uttered a word in between every attack and dedicated each attack with his heart—thinking about his squad with each swing of his sword. The Rate S ghoul eventually caught up to his attacks and gave him a taste of what he was like.

The ghoul muscled him in the gut like when he did so with Urie a few moments ago. Haise doubled over and screamed in pain, his quinque out of reach, probably somewhere behind him. He stayed there for a while until he rose to his feet, raising his right hand—he cracked his pointer finger, the same crack released his kagune.

In an instant Haise's demeanor changed. No longer was he the looked down upon investigator, but rather a strong, intimidating man. Just as the ghoul tried to attack Haise, he moved out the way like this wasn't the first time he engaged in a fight with a high rated ghoul. This was the first time the squad saw their mentor use his kagune at all.

He skillfully jumped and leapt away whilst keeping up with his attacks against the masked ghoul. Within a few seconds Haise had shattered the ghoul's kagune, and though it regenerated almost instantly, it was still a major feat for them.

"You're— tough." Haise gritted through his teeth just as Orochi approached him face to face,

"Well, thank you." He kicked Haise in the gut just like before, but this time Haise regained his composure in an instant and his kagune reached out to grab his quinque and it settled in the palm of his hands.

The squad noticed that he was depleting in stamina, his dodging time slowing down to the point where he was dodging the attacks just in the nick of time. When Orochi struck him again he fell to the floor, immediately coming to his aid the squad reached out for him but he put his arm out.

"Stay back-"

"We can still fight!"

"We're not just gonna stand here and watch-" they protested, but all Haise did was look back and grin at them.

"That's an order. Reina, help me would ya?" He motioned.

Grinning from ear to ear she slid her coat off her back and let it fall to the floor. She released her kagune, long, thick, deep purple tentacles following behind her as Haise stretched before going back to attack the Rate S ghoul.

"You definitely intrigue me more than those punks." The masked ghoul hummed.

Haise chuckled, "I'm not sure if I should be honored. But I don't think you want to get to know... me." He cracked his knuckle and attacked him without a warning.

Haise showed no mercy, his actions were a lot more fluid and natural, his instincts told him what was right and what was wrong. When Orochi leapt away from Haise's attack, Reina formed her kagune into thin, razor sharp arms and pinned him into place... like a spider with their prey. They pierced through his skin, his shoulders and hips; the areas bled profusely.

This gave Haise the perfect opportunity to pierce Orochi's abdomen like before. Haise didn't have any reaction, he just looked concentrated as his hand contorted as if it was the one controlling his every move. That was until his second tentacle pierced through another part of his torso. Haise began grinning from ear to ear as he continued his onslaught of torturing the ghoul. Painful groans along with squelching noises could be heard from the pinned body.

"Just returning the favor.." he smiled manically, clearly enjoying this little show of theirs.

Removing his kagune from the ghoul's abdomen Reina shoved and grated the masked ghoul into the wall of the tunnel. When she let go he dropped to the floor like a rag doll incapable of moving himself around.

Pushing themselves off their kagune they reached the now unmasked ghoul. The girl picked up the mask and hid it behind her, meanwhile the boy straddled him and looked like he was going to give him the easy way out.

"'I'm dying I'm dying...' is that how it goes?" He coughed out as he laid on the street

The duo paid no attention to his words.

"Oh buddy, guess you still haven't found salvation, huh... Kaneki." He revealed his face from underneath the hood he had on.

That familiar face... orange hair..

"...nishio..?" Haise slipped out.

Haise lost his mind. Memories distorted, blank faces haunting him, mouths moving but no sound coming from them. The only sound he could hear was his name ringing in his mind... Kaneki.

"Guess playtime's over Nishio, take care." She said as she tossed him his mask.

Walking over to Haise she hugged him, her kagune shattering his. She held him as he thrashed around her hold, her grip never letting loose. His nails dug into her skin drawing blood from the scratches, his screams and wails echoed throughout everyone's ears. The pain he inflicted onto her was nothing compared to his.

Memories of her hugging her restrained sister filled her head. She called out her fathers name, her name, she seeked comfort from those she trusted. Haise in return had no one to tell him to cry it out, to let him feel. No one but himself, and not having anyone to remember them by was a greater pain none of them would ever understand.

She took his hits, his scratches, until they ceased into small cries. The RC bullet put him to rest for a while. They both collapsed onto the floor as he muttered his name, Haise Sasaki, over and over again. Looking down at him, Reina brushed his hair aside in a comforting manner hoping he'd find comfort in it as it was the only thing she could do at the moment with all eyes on them.

Although he still clawed at her, the pain was much more manageable. She ran thimble fingers throughout his full head of hair and nodded at his words. "You're you," she caressed his face with her free hand, wiping his free flowing tears. She noticed her subordinates looking at them... fear... jealousy... and awe was clear on their faces. She felt his hand grasp her wrist, she looked down. He looked into her eyes and was about to speak up—almost expecting his words she reassured him,

"You didn't kill anyone, don't worry. We're all safe. Get some rest now, Haise."

And with those words of reassurance he closed his weary eyes. A deep slumber falling upon him. Sighing in relief Reina picked the man up with ease and carried him into one of the cars their back up came with. Closing the car door she went to pick up her discarded coat on the floor and threw it over herself.

"We're riding elsewhere, I'm driving."

"Will Sasan be okay?" They mumbled out.

"Of course he will. He always bounces back." She smiled back at them before she entered the escorted car.

wc: 3.3k previous chapter  masterlist next chapter

a/n: god i hate myself for cross posting this on so many platforms because of formatting. Next chapter will be the last one for the month. March i will post the next three chapters!

ps. i don’t care if you’re a minor or not, I know y’all are still gonna read. I’m not your guardian, that’s up to them. I’m not responsible for anything.

Tag list:

Congratulations on reaching 4000!! I read your TG Drabbles and absolutely fell in love with your writing so I was wondering if I could get prompt 24 + Urie 💕💕 fem! Ghoul reader x quinx member Urie!! Thank you :)

# tags: scenario; kinda enemies/lovers and current relationship; light romance; drama; angst; ghoul!reader & quinx!kuki; crying, vomit and blood mention; dead body; kinda ooc!kuki (but not much); suggestive

includes: female reader ft. kuki urie {tokyo ghoul}

author’s note: hi! thank you very much for this request! i really like kuki and i am really happy that i can write about him! love u

24. “I’m a monster! Can’t you see it?!”

Your blood-stained long T-shirt, tears on your cheeks flushed with heat, a few strands of hair on the dirty floor, and the fear in your eyes seemed to the young Inspector an image that was downright terrifying, even nightmarish; however, not because of your appearance and the look of the room you both were in, but because of how scared and sad you were at that time. How much your eyes shone with self-loathing and how damned deep down you wanted to disappear and never be born.

“I’m a monster! Can’t you see it?!”

Of course he knew you were a ghoul. The walking grotesque, his enemy, the walking death, humanity’s greatest failure. A abominable monster.

He knew and watched you for months, studying your whole body and your behavior – he believed that he would eventually find a magical solution that would restore your humanity. He has kept you as a secret for a long time from the rest of his co-workers, from his command and from his own family. Although he knew every day that you could attack him, he bravely endured your outbursts of aggression and murderous desire, insatiable anger.

He was there when you vomited trying to eat a tomato and cheese sandwich, he was there when you cried into his shoulder, begging him to kill you, and he was there when you felt too human, wishing he would love you and stay with you for ever. He was in your worst and nastiest moments, but he was also next to you when you smiled slightly as you laid the last wild draw four card on the table and shouted a loud, almost carefree ‘Uno!’. He was always there and will always be.

It was hard for him to bear the sight of your hands in the dark liquid, your torn clothes and the traces of murder that were right under his feet. You killed an innocent woman who got a promotion in the family business two days ago. You killed a person who probably had a family who loved her, children who had to be kissed before bed, or even a dog who was eagerly waiting for her to put some of his favorite food in his bowl. You ate half of her firm, sweet flesh with tears in your eyes, and when Kuki caught you in the act, you nearly ripped out your own windpipe to relieve your own suffering. If there’s one thing you hated, it was definitely being a ghoul.

The silence between you two was interrupted only by your painful crying and the sound of cars driving down the street a few floors below. You looked alternately at the dead headless woman and at the man you loved, once again begging him to finally kill you. Of course, he didn’t do it that night, nor when you begged him to do the same three days later, clutching his shirt in a tight grip; behind you lay the lower limb of some five years old child.

It was hard for both of you to live with the thought that you loved a human and he loved a being he should have killed the first time he discovered your true colors. But he couldn’t do that. He just couldn’t.

You were both weak and pathetic.

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

Moonlight 🌙

Warnings: mentions of implied abuse, bruises, cuts, scars

Soft knocks were heard at the dark wooden door. Sleepily the blonde got up to answer the door already knowing who it was. He opened the door revealing an injured girl. Her strawberry hair covering her puffy tear stained face. He gently helped her up as she muttered a soft 'thank you' at the male. He placed her down on the tan couch, and quickly scurried to the bathroom where he kept his first aid kit. Once he came back with the supplies, the boy turned his full attention to the girls injuries.

"Your old man again?" He asked even though he already knew the answer.

She hummed quietly not wanting to talk about it. After all this has become a normal routine for the both of them. Her running away, knocking at his door, him tending to her, and letting her stay over at his. The boy sighed and continued to work in the comfortable silence not wanting to push her in her already messed up state.

"The offer's still up you know." He mumbled.

"I don't want to burden you Albedo—and don't even say that I'm not. I'm already wasting your time and medical supplies." She mentioned.

The boy sighed and spoke up, "and how many times have I told you that I don't care spending money on you?"

The girl sighed in defeat knowing that he wouldn't back down. Instead she turned her face away from his and hid it in the couch cushion, returning to being silent. The boy silently continued to work on healing her body, after all having an infected wound is not pleasant.

"Turn your face, I need to see how badly he hurt you." He spoke softly to her.

She didn't move.

"Please?"

Again, she didn't turn to face him. He put the cotton ball down and gently grabbed her face by the chin and turned her face to look at him. When he did so he found her face littered with scars and a few cuts. His eyes trailed down to her lips—quivering in embarrassment. She never wanted him to see her like this again, but alas the world was not in her favor. The boys face softened and quickly averted his gaze to find the cotton ball he had just soaked in hydrogen peroxide quickly muttering a 'this might sting' as he resumed his task.

His face scrunched up in focus, his tongue poking out his lips. His hair fell down his face but he didn't mind. Slowly reaching out, the girl pushed his hair out of his face revealing his big blue eyes. She's seen them up close before multiple times before, but they always look so pretty and beautiful to her. He stopped what he was doing and looked back down at her eyes. They both maintained eye contact for a while before they both slowly started closing in on each other. Heads tilting opposite of each other.

"Big brother?" A tiny voice interrupted them.

Both the male and female stopped and averted their gaze from each other onto the tiny blonde girl. She was dressed in her small fitted pajamas. The moonlight hitting her face as she scrunched her face up to adjust to the light.

"Klee? What are you doing up?" The boy questioned quietly.

"Had a nightmare. I wanted to sleep next to you because I was scared, but you weren't in your room." The tiny girl squeezed the tiny 'dodoco' plushie close to her chest.

The boy looked back at her and was about to apologize but she beat him to it.

"Don't worry, put her to sleep first. You can worry about me later." She reassured him.

He nodded and carried his little sister back to her room, muttering sweet soothing words to put her back to sleep. Seeing his figure disappear into the darkness of the hall, the strawberry haired girl sighed and looked out the window of his apartment complex. The moon had formed a crescent shape, not revealing it's fullness. But even so it still shown really brightly. The very few stars outside glimmered and twinkled.

The girl eventually found herself succumbing to sleep with the picturesque background. Her brown eyes now shut, mouth parting slightly, and her hair fell down her face gracefully. As the boy returned he came to notice her sleeping figure. He chuckled softly at the sight and carried her to his bed. He covered her in the tan bedsheets that dressed his mattress. Finally kissing her forehead and muttering an almost audible,

"Goodnight, Marceline."

[0.8k] tangled lights, glass ornaments and christmas memories in the making as you spend the holiday with the marauders.

.

“Sirius, put the tinsel down!” 

“But it looks good on me, love.” 

“Yeah, and I am sure it will look so pretty when I strangle you with it.” 

“Ouch, so testy for the festive season.”

A snort could be heard from somewhere behind you both.

The marauders were undoubtedly a handful to deal with, and you had known that for many, many years. From your first year when a wild curled James settled into the seat next to you, thrusting his hand out to you and slipping his name in between his rambles with Sirius and Remus quickly settling on the other side of you—to now, where the lot of you stood in the Potter Manor living room with boxes of decorations and one job given by Euphemia Potter to have the tree decorated before she returned. 

As it would turn out, decorating the tree with three overgrown children was much more difficult than you had convinced yourself it would be. 

Keep reading

Idk why I haven’t seen this with Jayce but 😭😭 I need want a fic of him inspired by El Chico Del Apartamento 512 by Selena Quintanilla.

One: The song absolutely suits him, my god like he literally is el chico del apartamento 512… 😭

Two: I was thinking of having Caitlyn be his sister (cause let’s face it they’re so siblings coded, not even friends, siblings (coming from someone who actually has siblings, Viktor and Jayce are NAWT sibling coded at all… but that’s another discussion)

Three: The thought just came up because I was cleaning out my wattpad reads out and that one Sero fic (I read when I was younger) popped up I just chucked it in the bin (tween/teen me would be rioting if they saw what I did 😭) I then saw “The Man in Apartment 381” by lemonlover1110… and I was like if Toji has one, best believe I want to see a Jayce one ❤️‍🩹

Just me sharing my thoughts 😼 (I might actually make this but I can’t promise shit. Sorry y’all 🧍😞💔)

Also if anyone has seen anything like this please do link, my ass is thirsty for next door neighbor typa crushes 💔

Second Son (XII) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: Dumbledore, Harry, and Y/N explore the Crystal Cave. Draco's mission proves to have dire consequences.

Part XI / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: Oh man. Yay for the end of sixth year ? ... haha

The rocky ventricle of the cliff side was far less exciting than the seaside, but there was something beguiling about the dim green shine and wet black rocks of the cave. Harry was careful to maintain steady footing as you all hiked through the damp cave, soon finding a rounded dead end. 

Before you can question Dumbledore, he whips out a small knife from his robes, spinning on his heel to face you both. A small pang of panic shoots through your body before you realize that your headmaster was cutting his hand and not attempting to maul you both with the ornamental paring knife. 

Tilting your head, you search the man’s calm expression for an answer, “Sir?” Your voice trails off as he swipes his bloodied hand against the rocks beside him. 

The man turns to you both with an undisturbed smile, “To gain passage, a payment must be made. Payment intended to weaken the intruder.” 

You mask your bewilderment and simply shoot a fleeting glance at Harry, who did not even attempt to suppress his bafflement. 

As the blood seeps into the crevices of the rocks, the stone wall begins to flake and crumble. Stepping back as the rocks fall towards your feet, you feel your mouth drop open at the newly revealed sight of opaque crystals. The new cave pocket was alight with a dull gleam, displaying a likeness to a troll-size geode. 

“Voldemort never did skimp with such extravagances.” You muse, ignoring the unimpressed eyebrow raise Harry shoots towards you. 

As you all clamber over the seemingly endless hills of jagged crystals, you decide to reach out to Regulus, no longer able to ignore the persistent blaring of the hundreds of magical signatures around you. 

‘Reg, there are countless different magical signatures in here.’ 

‘I think I might know what this place is.’ Regulus’ words are hushed, clearly deep in thought as he tries to untangle the foggy web of memories that Sirius unlocked.

Darting your eyes around the darkness, you nearly slip as your concentration splinters into a dozen different directions. 

‘You do? How?’ 

‘The ocean. My human-self was immersed in research on some place called the Crystal Cave. Something about the beach and a hidden horcrux. Since you’re all searching for his horcrux, I can only assume my research was right.’  

Before you can coax Regulus for more answers, you stop behind Harry as Dumbledore peers across the vast darkness of the water. It seemed as though there was nothing left to explore, the eerily calm body of water expanding far into the void. 

Closing your eyes, you zone out of the conversation between Dumbledore and Harry, focusing on the overwhelming amount of magical signatures around you that seemed to be screaming for your attention. 

There was something familiar about the magic, it was almost like the magic around Regulus’ portrait except more potent with a tinge of something you couldn’t quite comprehend. Before you have time to contemplate these findings, you open your eyes as you feel a tug on your sleeve. 

Meeting Harry’s concerned eyes, you realize that Dumbledore had somehow managed to summon a small canoe from the waters and now both men were patiently waiting for you to collect yourself. 

“Sorry.” You whisper, gesturing for Harry to get inside before you. Dumbledore simply assesses you with a thoughtful look before turning to face the dark waters as you shakily step into the canoe. 

The journey across the waters is surprisingly serene, and you had half the mind to be cautious of enemies hidden in the darkness around you. It was troubling that you all hadn’t stumbled across any serpentine puzzles or tremendous creatures. 

If this place truly contains a horcrux, it would be best to be on guard. Underestimating Voldemort would only lead you to a swift death. 

As the canoe reaches the edge of a crystal island, you all part from the delicate boat quietly. Most of the journey had been spent in tense silence and you were beginning to get a sinking feeling from the cave, as if there was a large chunk of mystery you wouldn’t be privy to for a while. 

The three of you clamber towards the top of the crystal mound, circling around a particular crystal that emerged to form a basin. The depression at its center contained a cloudy liquid, an inky black fog swirling in the center to conceal the contents at the bottom. Dumbledore swipes his hand over the liquid, clearly trying to vanish it with magic. 

You feel confusion wash over you as the liquid warps under the pressure before merely repelling his hand. 

Dumbledore raises his head to look at Harry before turning to your questioning eyes, “It has to be drunk.” 

Stepping back from the basin, you nearly topple over as Regulus’ voice loudly rings in your head, voice strained with panic, ‘Don’t drink it! I remember now. The Dark Lord – he brought Kreacher here and did something to him. Kreacher barely made it out alive, but he was frenzied and told human-me he had drunk something.’

Regulus’ words come out in a huge rush and your nerves prickle from his uncharacteristic loss of composure. 

“Sir. I don’t think you should drink it.” Your words have both men turning towards you, clearly seeing no other way to access the horcrux. Biting your lip in contemplation, you decide to elaborate, “Headmaster, I’m sure you are already aware of my companion. He told me that the concoction nearly killed his house elf.” 

Dumbledore seems to consider your words before he drops his gaze back down into the basin, “I see. However, there seems to be no other way.”

Harry seems to be alarmed by your words and steps forward, “But sir–” 

Dumbledore holds up a hand and closes his eyes in resignation, “Conditions. There are conditions for you both that I failed to impart to you before we ventured here.” He opens his eyes and narrows them, “If something is to happen, you both must save yourselves. Do not worry about me.”

You share a look with Harry, before you reluctantly nod in agreement. They were not the most difficult conditions you’ve ever been given, between your headmaster and Harry, you would pick your friend, always. 

As Dumbledore and Harry fall into a hushed conversation about the conditions and the liquid, you slowly drift into your thoughts again. It didn’t make sense what you were feeling, how were there so many magical signatures around even with no sign of actual magical beings? You wanted to ask Regulus for help, but you knew that the boy likely knew nothing past what he told you. 

Exhaling shakily, you watch as Dumbledore scoops up some of the liquid before drinking it. The reaction is almost instantaneous, your eyes widen as you see his eyes darken, choked noises escaping his dry lips as he lightly convulses. 

“Professor? Professor!” Harry’s concerned words grow louder as the man grunts loudly, shaking more violently on the spot before tumbling down onto the ground. You lunge forwards, reaching out futilely as Dumbledore continues to grunt and jerk. It seemed as though he was no longer even aware of his surroundings, too enraptured by what the liquid was doing to his body and mind. 

Swallowing harshly, you feel fear prickle through your body as Dumbledore thrashes around before stilling suddenly. Harry turns to you briefly and your heart clenches at the sight of his horrified expression. 

Seeming to ground himself, Dumbledore sits up and jerks a hand towards the basin. Harry seems to understand what the man is trying to say and he rushes back to bring more of the liquid. 

You stay next to Dumbledore, helplessly muttering assurances to the man as he seems to be dragged back into his haze, beginning to groan and plead for something. Harry is able to keep his composure for the most part and continues to feed Dumbledore the concoction, rushing back and forth to try and empty the basin quickly. 

“It’s my fault!” Dumbledore’s wails are sure to haunt your dreams for the next coming months, and you’re faintly aware of the tears blurring your vision. It was one thing to face blood-thirsty creatures and other wizards in battle, it was another thing to be completely helpless in the face of psychological torment. You were barely strong enough for the former, you had very little training to cope with the latter. 

In the flurry of your panic, you’re unaware that you’ve been flooding your mind link with anxiety until you feel a sudden wave of comfort being nudged toward you by Regulus. The warm feeling of his magic wrapping around yours grounds you and you make note to thank him later.  Shaking your head, you push aside your dread and focus on the task at hand.

Just as your mind clears, you see Dumbledore cease in his hysteria, feeling Harry lean down towards the man from next to you. You both release an exhale of relief as your headmaster seems to be fully aware again, his eyes no longer glassy and unseeing. 

“Water.” His croak comes out dry and you shoot up from your spot to clamber towards the basin, eyes widening in relief as you see a pendant laying at the bottom. 

It worked, you had the horcrux now. 

Wrapping your fingers around the object, you’re struck with confusion almost immediately. The locket had no magical trace or signature whatsoever. 

“Wait. Harry-” Your words get caught in your throat as you turn around and see Harry standing still, attention drawn to something in the water. Bringing the locket up to your face, you scrutinize it further, still feeling no residual dark magic. 

Gripping the chain tightly, you slowly pull it over your head and tuck it underneath your shirt, not perturbed by potential dangers as you realize it was practically just an ordinary necklace. 

You had seen cursed necklaces before, and you were fairly confident that it wouldn’t toss you into the air like Katie Bell or try and choke you to death. 

Great, you all suffered for nothing. 

“Lumos Maxima!” Harry’s shout distracts you from your thoughts and you begin to walk toward him, still not understanding what he was seeing. As you near the edge of the island, you gasp as you feel an onslaught of magic suddenly crash into you. 

Stumbling back, you watch as pale, gaunt figures begin to claw their way from the water’s surface and toward you both. The grisly creatures were all milky, but you could see some distinguishing differences between them all. 

What disturbed you most though was the fact that you could feel faint magic lingering around them. As you backed away, you realized that aside from the numerous unique signatures, there was a darker, suffocating magic that blanketed them all. 

Your mind started racing – They were puppets. Reanimated using magic. Not corpses, but not living. They were people. Perhaps a branch of necromancy.

It all clicked. “Inferi,” You gasp and grab Harry’s arm, dragging him towards a stunned Dumbledore.  

The inferi were far more harrowing in real life than in pictures from your textbooks. You could see the sunken skin that seemed to bloat around protruding bones, and wisps of hair that sprouted unevenly from their bulbous heads. 

Harry begins to fire off spells at the army of inferi and you reach around your jacket for your wand, eyes widening in panic as you realize they were surrounding you. 

“Fire! Harry, they fear fire!” Your shout is drowned out by Harry’s yelling and you groan in frustration. Grabbing your wand, you thrust it up and swing your arm over your head, “Pluvia Ignis!”

The heat of fire envelops you immediately and you blearily squint your eyes as a colossal ring of fire blazes up toward the cave’s ceiling, licking at the muggy air. Continuing to whirl your wand, you let out a sigh of relief as you see that you hadn’t burnt your companions to a crisp. The heat had the inferi receding back into the waters, but your celebration is cut short as you realize that the ring of fire was now consuming nearly every inch of the cave. 

Dumbledore stumbles towards you, one arm slung over Harry’s shoulders as the boy helps him find his footing. Ceasing your movements, you move to join the two as you watch the last few inferi dive into the water. 

Furrowing your brows, you feel a sudden pull toward the water. The pull was coming from your pocket and your hand, and you drew your hand back as you saw your finger gravitate toward the dark pool. Your ring was being attracted towards the water for some strange reason. 

Feeling the tug persist, you incline your head to look at your pocket. 

No, it wasn’t just your ring, but Regulus’ portrait as well.  

‘Reg?’ 

‘There’s something wrong. I feel…’ The boy’s words are shaky, but you can feel how his confusion mirrors yours as he trails off.

You have little time to ruminate further as you’re soon being dragged off by Harry as Dumbledore parts the flames. The inferno drags away into two tall walls, clearing a direct path back toward the other side of the cave. 

The journey back passes by in a blur as you’re busy with making sure Dumbledore wouldn’t keel over and die, while Harry moves the canoe along as quickly as he could. All along the way out, the tugging gradually faded and soon the conundrum was buried away in your thoughts. 

As soon as you all stumble out of the cave, Dumbledore grabs both of your elbows and apparates away from the shore. The warping of your body through the travel has you disoriented and mildly irritated, and you were mentally cursing your past-self for all the decisions that had amounted to the events of that day. 

The three of you touched down at the astronomy tower with a loud pop and muffled groans, your knees nearly buckling from exhaustion as soon as your heels slammed against the wooden boards. 

Harry helps guide Dumbledore to sit down, the man further weakened by the apparition. As you crouch down in front of the enervated headmaster, you both can barely make out what the man is mumbling. 

“Severus…Severus,” Dumbledore wheezes out. You share a look with Harry and usher him away with a wave of your hand, “I’ll stay and watch over him. You hurry and find Snape.”

Harry doesn’t look entirely convinced, but seeing no better alternative, complies with your words and quickly disappears behind a pillar and into the darkness. Before you can turn around to focus your attention on the pallor man next to you, you hear light footsteps slowly ascend the staircase. 

Turning your body to fully face the stairway, you reach for your wand and tense up in anticipation. To your surprise, you see Draco’s figure slowly round towards you both with his wand drawn. 

“Draco?” Your words are painted in disbelief, and you feel a pit lodge in your throat at the slytherin’s frantic eyes and white-knuckled grip. 

‘Reg, Draco is going to attack us.’ You clench your jaw and keep your hand on the hilt of your wand. 

‘Defend yourself, forget about Dumbledore.’ Regulus’ words are firm, with such strong conviction that you almost get whiplash thinking about how fraught he had just sounded in the cave. 

Shuffling away from the headmaster, you stand up shakily and draw your wand out to your side, not exactly rising up to the challenge, but ready to defend yourself. You were confident that you could hold up just fine against Draco. 

“L/N?” Draco sounds a tad surprised, as though he hadn’t seen you up until that moment, “What are you doing here?” His voice is now as panicked as his face, and you see his hostile demeanor falter slightly. 

Holding up one of your hands, you try to reason with the boy, “Draco, don’t do this. I know, okay. I know.”

Your words seem to only incense the boy as he practically snarls at you, “You don’t know! You don’t know what it’s like to be chosen!” With his last words, the boy is tearing the sleeve of his left arm upwards, thrusting his dark mark into your gobsmacked face. 

As your eyes drop down in resignation, you make eye contact with an alarmed Harry who was crouched on the floor below. Subtly shaking your head at the boy, you drag your eyes back up to look at Draco. 

The boy’s face was now twisted in something akin to pain, and you felt pity root you to your spot. Before you can open your mouth to speak, your attention is grabbed by the sound of a door opening in the distance. 

Frowning, you shuffle back to block Dumbledore, “You’re not alone?” 

“A passage. Vanishing cabinets that I repaired.” Draco’s words are embittered, but you knew it wasn’t towards you. . 

Noddin, you shrug one shoulder at him, commending him for his ingeniousness. Seeing that you were not going to reply, he lowers his wand slightly, “I don’t need you. Go. You need to leave. I only want him,” he jabs his chin in the direction of Dumbledore, who was still slumped on the floor. 

A large part of you did want to run, but you didn’t think you could ever look Harry in the eyes again if you did. 

‘Run, birdie. Listen to him. Protect yourself.’ Regulus’ pleads make your finger twitch and the urge to abandon your incapacitated headmaster grows stronger. 

“You know I can’t, Draco. Please don’t do this.” You step forward and reach out to him. 

The boy shakes his head fervently, “I have to. I have to kill him, or else he’s going to kill me.” His voice cracks with the last confession, and you feel your jaw clench at the cruelty of the situation. 

“I can help you. Blaise and I, we can protect you.” Your words are soft and you see Draco frown in conflict, eyes shining from unshed tears. He seems to almost believe your words — that you could possibly get him out of this predicament, but any semblance of resolve disappears as footsteps echo from the stairwell again. 

Looking down at the hole in the floor, you see that Harry is gone, possibly hiding or getting help. You shakily exhale before looking back at Draco. The slytherin looks at you like you’re about to be walked to your execution, and you can feel a stone of dread sink in your stomach. 

The first person to pop up from the staircase has your heart stuttering from fear, “Bellatrix.” Your voice is surprisingly firm, and you almost want to pat yourself on the back from how well you were standing your ground. 

The woman in question whips her head towards you and lets out a booming cackle, hands clutching at her stomach like she was just pronounced the heir to an enormous fortune. 

“Ickle, Y/N,” The crazed woman approaches Draco, peering over his shoulder, “and, oh! Dumbledore! Two sitting ducks!” She breaks out into more laughter and you avert your eyes from her hysterics to look at a distressed Draco. 

‘Y/N, leave. You can’t take on Bellatrix, she is utterly insane. Apparate somewhere, please.’ Regulus’ voice seems to fade out in your head as you go still from shock when you see Fenrir Greyback make his way towards you. Just as you regain enough sense to try and turn tail, the werewolf is hauling your figure towards him in a bruising grip, slamming you up against a nearby pillar. 

You gasp in shock and grit your teeth to stop from screaming as the werewolf moves a hand to grip your throat. Before you can try and hex the beast, a monotonous voice breaks through the tense atmosphere, “Enough.” 

Darting your eyes away, you almost want to cry in relief as you see a stone-faced Snape make his way out from the shadows. The grip on your neck slackens and you try to find your bearings by gripping the ridges of the pillar behind you. 

The rumors that Greyback was horrifying were not exaggerated by any means. 

Before you can breathe out in relief, figuring that your ex-Potions professor likely would spare your life, Greyback grips one of your arms tightly and stuffs his other hand in your jacket pocket, tearing himself away from you, Regulus’ portrait held victoriously above his head. 

“No!” Your scream is guttural, feral even, but the werewolf simply grins widely at your distress, pointed teeth menacingly peeking from his mouth. You try to lunge for the werewolf, wand drawn, but you feel someone slam into you before you can get far. 

Thrashing against the figure, you cry out as they twist your hand behind your back, making you drop your wand. Before you can plead with Morgana to send you the strength to hurl your assailant through the wall, you hear a voice harshly whisper in your ear, “Stop it. You’re going to get yourself killed.” 

You tense from shock and whip your head around to see a frustrated Draco glaring down at you in warning.  Pursing your lips together, you feel tears gather on your waterline as you turn back and see Greyback handing the portrait to a delighted Bellatrix. 

“Foolish child!” Her words stung, but your snarl only seems to amuse her, “And baby cousin, how disappointing.” Bellatrix’s smile is vindictive, like pure acid, as she appraises Regulus. 

‘Reg. I’m sorry! Please, I’m sorry!’ Your frantic words pour out as tears begin to slide down your cheeks, eyes blurring violently from the endless onslaught of tears. 

‘It’s okay, birdie. It’s not your fault,’ Regulus' words are loud in your head, and you release a strangled sob, feeling Draco tighten his grip on you at the sound, ‘I don’t think I’ve ever liked someone as much as I’ve liked you.’ 

Blinking away the tears, you can barely process what was happening as Bellatrix suddenly draws her wand, “Bombarda!”

Regulus’ portrait explodes in a spray of gold, pieces of the frame clattering around the floor, and you see the canvas flutter to the floor between you and the madwoman. 

“Reggie!” You try to throw Draco off of you, but the boy overpowers you and keeps his iron grip on you. 

Regulus turns his gaze towards you and you see him flash a small smile at you, one full of longing and sorrow, ‘I’ll find you again, my love.’ 

“Incendio!” Bellatrix’s gleeful yell echoes throughout your head, deafening you, but you’re sure it was your screams that could be heard from the other side of the castle. You feel Draco flinch behind you, and you drop down onto the ground, taking the slytherin down with you. 

You hunch over, tipping your head onto the floor as you begin to sob, incoherently mumbling as the death eaters around you seem to direct their attention to Dumbledore. 

You knew you should have kicked Draco to next Yule and grabbed your wand to defend the weakened headmaster, but you could barely tie together a coherent thought, and when you did, it only revolved around Regulus. 

Regulus – who was gone, for good this time. Gone because of you. 

It would be a euphemism to describe the feeling as emptiness, because what you were feeling transcended any feeling you could precisely pinpoint. Bellatrix might as well have thrust her claws into your chest and wrung your heart to a bleeding pulp. 

You wanted to bang your head against the wood and beg for a redo of the entire day. 

It was all a terrible dream. 

Yes, it was nothing more than a figment of your imagination. That made sense, you would never be that weak, right? 

Yes. You were dreaming.

This had to be a nightmare. 

Opening your eyes, you feel your nails digging into your head just as black dots start to swim in your vision. You couldn’t find the strength to lift your head up. 

It all had to have been a dream. Otherwise, why would it be so silent around you? You could sense it, nobody was in the room with you anymore. 

The dark spots start to move more vigorously, blooming across the wood and overtaking your vision. As your sight waned and the rushing of blood in your ears settled, you heard a muffled voice reach you, “Shit! Y/N!” 

And then you knew no more than darkness. 

Yes, it had to be a dream. Just a bad dream. 

tag list: @krazyk99 @venomsvl @valsarchives @bunny24sstuff @novella12nite @elia-the-bibliophile @txorua @xlifexdeathx @trikigirl271 @the-marauders-world @sleepydang @blueberry-thrawn @lestat-whore @chanaaaannel @clockworkherondale @peachyaeger @thegayhoenextdoor @l--absinthe @ok-boke @summer-noir @mikeikax @musically-ambiguous @dittos-blog-dylanobrien @friendly-neighborhood-boricua @randomfaeriechild @misacc08 @kingofsantafe01 @that-bitch-bri @ily2lia

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Maybe in Another Universe, You're Still the Man I Love: Viktor x Reader

Summary: You get sent to the same alternate timeline with Ekko and Heimerdinger, and you find out just how wonderful your life could've been.

Words: 2.1k

Author's Notes: Yeah so that finale sent me into deep grief and writing is the only way I can heal I fear. I hope you enjoy this interpretation of what Viktor could be doing in the alternate timeline.

“Are you alright, darling?”

Your vision comes into focus, though your head is still pounding. You’re extremely nauseous, feeling like your body is not your own as you become aware of the all-too-familiar voice that just spoke to you.

You’re sitting on a desk in an Academy classroom, journals and various papers surrounding you. The sun is shining through the windows, cascading gold onto the other desks and tables. It’s a peaceful, simple sight. Something that feels so wrong for precisely that reason.

“I don’t have another class for a while, you can talk to me,” Viktor says, brushing his fingers against your face. “Care to tell me why you’re looking at me like that?”

You suppose you look like you’ve seen a ghost, which isn’t so far from the truth. You must be dreaming—maybe hallucinating—anything to explain how this isn’t real.

“I…” you start, failing to find the words to say.

-

You storm into the lab, locking your eyes on the empty hexcore cocoon, then at Jayce.

“Where the fuck is he?”

“I don’t know!” Jayce fires back at you, clearly just as distraught as you are. “He woke up and told me he needed to leave me and this place. I have no idea where he went!”

“Why didn’t you follow him?” you scream, your mind spinning. Who knows how the hexcore changed him, he could literally be anywhere.

“He didn’t want me to! What don’t you understand?” Jayce slumps back into his chair, his face in his hands. As soon as he notices a tear fall down your cheek, his tone softens. “Look, I...we both know he’s been different since he started messing with the hexcore. He had told me to destroy it...but I couldn’t. And now he’s even more different. I’m so sorry,”

“Jayce…” you walk towards him. “I’m not blaming you for anything that’s happened. He’s been pushing both of us away for a long time. I guess...I just thought maybe when he woke up he’d love me again like he used to. Did he even ask about me?”

Jayce shakes his head, and your heart sinks even further.

-

“I think I’m dreaming,” you finally say, and Viktor tilts his head. “This...this isn’t real. We’re not like this, we haven’t been like this in a long time. You’re not...what are you here, a professor?”

He cups your face and kisses your forehead, “Darling, I don’t think you’ve been getting enough sleep, you’re talking nonsense,”

“No, no, no,” you jump off the desk and pace around the room. “If this isn’t a dream, then where am I? Some sort of other reality?”

“You mean to say you believe...this is not your world?” Viktor takes in your words intently.

“Well in my world, you fell out of love with me in favor of your work, and then you nearly died and got severely mutated by the hexcore. So yeah, I’d say things are pretty different,”

He raises an eyebrow, “Hex...core?”

“You don’t have that here?”

“Seemingly not,”

You sigh, perching yourself back on the desk, “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“No, I...I have theorized the possibility of alternate universes before, but I never thought I would come face to face with it in my lifetime,” he starts writing on the wall chalkboard. “I see no reason not to believe you. After all, my wife of this universe would probably not be saying these things,”

“We’re married?”

“Of course. Now tell me, what else is different in your universe?”

-

You’ve tried to find him everywhere—going all the secret places the two of you would go in the past, and asking people if they’ve seen him both topside and bottom. There’s no signs, not even a clue. He doesn’t want to be found.

You make your way back to Jayce’s lab, surprised to see Heimerdinger and a young man you don’t recognize with him. They fill you in on their concern about wild runes showing up around the city, and their plan to check on the hexgates. You’re desperate for anything to get your mind off Viktor, so you go along with them.

You’ve never been to the source of the hexgates before, and it’s even more grand than you imagined. One thing could go wrong and the entire thing would explode, but it’s precisely the potential of destruction that makes it all the more fascinating.

That is, until it becomes entirely unpredictable.

Your surroundings change at the blink of an eye—warped visuals and sounds you can’t make out. You scream for the others, but no one can hear.

-

You do your best to describe all the important events and details of your timeline, while Viktor takes notes on the chalkboard and compares what you say to his timeline. He seems particularly interested in his inventions in your timeline, and his partnership with Jayce—who’s no longer alive in his timeline.

“He died in an explosion here at the academy several years ago, it was a tragic accident that also killed a young girl from the undercity. He was a friend and a brilliant mind,” he pauses. “We...actually named our son after him.”

Your eyes widen, overwhelmed by this possibility of what could’ve been, “We have a son?”

“We do. And he’s perfect,” Viktor smiles softly. “You really are from a different time, aren’t you?”

You nod, trying to hold back tears. Why does this reality’s version of you get to be happy? Why does this Viktor get to dodge corruption and the hands of hubris?

Viktor gazes once again on the chalkboard notes, looking for patterns and causes for the differences in your timelines. Would he have reached the same fate if Jayce was still alive? What caused the Undercity to heal and thrive in his timeline but not in yours? Was this hextech you speak of really so destructive?

You are the same person he fell in love with, there’s no doubt in his mind about that, but you’ve been significantly more hurt than the Y/N he knows.

He steps close to you again, wiping the tears from your face and pulling you into him, “I’m so sorry your version of me has taken a different path.”

You sob into his chest, gripping his clothes. He runs his fingers through your hair and rubs your back, soothing you as if you’re his own.

But you’re not his. This isn’t your life.

You pull away, taking a deep breath, “As much as I want to stay here, I can’t keep taking over the consciousness of the me in this world. I need to find the others,”

“I don’t know if it’s possible for you to get back,” he says. “You say you got here through hextech, and that was never invented here.”

“We’ll find a way,” you run to the window, looking out to get a gauge of where you are. Heimerdinger might have landed somewhere here in the Academy too, and Ekko probably went back to the Undercity. But Jayce—if he’s dead in this universe—where would he be?

“Before you go,” Viktor places a hand on your shoulder. “Would you like to meet our son?”

Anxiety washes over you, your body going numb from the prospect. Would it only hurt you more to see a life that you could’ve created?

“Don’t you have more classes to teach, professor?” you smile, trying to turn your nervousness into something lighthearted.

“I’ll cancel for today. It’s about the time you usually pick him up from school anyway,”

He grabs his cane with one hand and takes your hand with the other, posting a quick note on his door as you leave.

-

You sit on a bench outside the elementary school, your heart pounding. This child is going to run out that building any minute, eager to see the mother he’s always known.

But you’re not her. You didn’t carry him, birth him, or raise him. You don’t have the same memories and experiences.

But you must pretend that you do.

You know which one he is immediately. He’s a perfect combination of yours and Viktor’s features, just like you’d imagined. His smile is contagious, and he wastes no time jumping into your arms.

“Look what I made at school today, Mommy!” he puts a crafty contraption in front of your face, a colorful collection of sticks and paper glued together.

“That’s so creative, honey, I love it,” but your attention is solely focused on him, his sweet face glowing with pride and joy.

“Quite the little inventor, aren’t you?” Viktor applauds him. “What else did you learn today?”

“We did reading and spelling. I can spell family now. F-A-M-I-L-E!”

“Close, sweetheart. There’s a ‘Y’ at the end,” you laugh,

“Are you sure about that?” he says, wincing his adorable face in thought. “Whatever. I learned how to spell brother and sister too, but I don’t have any of those. How do I get one of those?”

Viktor chuckles, “I’ll talk about it with your Mommy, how about that?”

“Okay!” he jumps up and starts walking home with the two of you.

-

What if I stayed? You wonder.

You’re playing with your son on the living room floor, with toys mostly made by Viktor himself. The house is small but cozy, a home you wish was really yours. What if you just stay in this dream reality forever?

What if you never find the others? What if there really is no way to get back?

But no, that wouldn’t be fair to the you of this reality. She’s the one who has this life, not you. Besides, Viktor and his son deserve their wife and mother back.

You hear a knock on the door, and Viktor goes to open it.

“Oh, Viktor, it is so good to see you.”

Your head swivels instantly towards the yordle in the entryway, “Heimerdinger! You found me!” you join Viktor at the door, “Where’s Ekko and Jayce?”

“I have not found Jayce as of yet, but I did find Ekko and sent him back to his timeline about a week ago. We found some hextech fragments and were able to use them to jump through time and space.”

“So...I can get home too?”

“As soon as you’re ready. We built the machine in a young girl’s lab in the Undercity,” he looks between you, then Viktor, and finally your son. His attitude of urgency dissipates as he begins to understand. “But...I could not blame you if you want to stay longer.”

Your son Jayce comes running to join you, grabbing onto your leg, “Who’s this guy, Mommy?”

“This is Professor Heimerdinger, he used to work at the Academy,” you pat his head, “Your dad used to be his assistant.”

“I’m sure you already have a brilliant mind, my boy,” Heimerdinger says. “Your parents must be proud.”

Little Jayce giggles.

“Actually, I would very much like to see this new invention you’ve built, Professor,” Viktor speaks up. “I’m now quite intrigued by the prospect of other universes.”

“I have no rule against you observing, Viktor, but I’m sure you understand I must destroy it after we all get back. It is too dangerous to be left here unsupervised,” Heimerdinger’s tone becomes more serious. “I’m sure Y/N has told you of the destruction hextech caused in our universe, especially to you.”

“Of course, Professor. I understand.”

-

You’ve never seen the Undercity look this beautiful.

It seems that the other version of you comes here often, so many people wave to you and little Jayce automatically runs off with some kids his age to play.

You meet a blue-haired young lady named Powder, who helped Heimerdinger and Ekko in their experiments. She looks so familiar to you, but you can’t place where you’ve seen her in your reality.

Heimerdinger explains how it works, and both you and Viktor listen intently. With everything up and running, you could go back this instant.

The pull to go back is strong, like an obligation to return to your rightful place in the universe. But the pull to stay is equally strong, as you gaze into your husband’s beautiful amber eyes that you want to find solace in forever.

“It’s your choice, my love,” Viktor says, as if reading your mind.

“I know I need to go back…” you exhale, tears welling in your eyes once again. “But I don’t know what I’m going back to,”

“I don’t know either,” he caresses your face, “But I do know you are strong in every universe,”

“I’m not,” you shake your head, “Not without you.”

“Don’t say that,” his thumbs smooth across your cheeks.

You nod, turning towards the device.

“Could you…could you kiss me one last time?” you ask.

Viktor wastes no time honoring your request, crashing his lips to yours with lasting passion. He pulls away only as you back into the circle, leaving you with one last affectionate whisper:

“I’m so fortunate to have met another version of you, my love.”

Finished reading Sunrise on the Reaping in the morning and it absolutely destroyed me and had me sobbing. I’m still pretty sad after reading and my eyes are hot and puffy even though it’s been hours.

I started reading it yesterday and I ended up crying myself to sleep after I finished reading chapter 18. Then I started chapter 19 this morning and finished the book at around 12:58 or at 1:00. Started sobbing violently, snot running down my nose as I finished it… heh.

No wonder my eyes are puffy I’ve been crying for a whole day straight