Chapter 4: Remiss—Reckon

i dont know if you write angst stuff but i have a request for howl pendragon x dead past lover reader

so imagine this set post ending and sophie just cleaning the "castle" as for usual, while cleaning howl's room she saw a picture of a man/woman/person lovingly hidden away and on the back it says "my starlight" in howl's handwriting then she asks howl about it and howl shares how long before sophie came, this person was the one who accompanies him and practically helped him raised his apprentice, his starlight, his first love that died for some reason (maybe protecting him for extra angst?)

ur choice on how sophie reacts to knowing that even tho theyre together now and there was no doubt that howl loves him, its obvious that his heart still belongs to this person

also lemme formally introduce myself, my name is ilyushka or ilya for short and i hope u dont mind me becoming a regular now because you and your blog is literally my comfort place now

- Ilyushka -

— signed, your beloved Howl

💭summary; it's... pretty much all up there ^^^ they did all the hard work, i'm just typing it out-

💭character(s); Howl Pendragon, Sophie Hatter, Michael (mentioned)

💭warnings; angst, mentions of loved-one's death, pseudo unrequited love, gender neutral reader!

—notes; hello, darling Ilya! it's lovely to meet you! I am truly in love with this request and I hope that you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! this was so original and so very pretty! i was also listening to this to help channel the angst: [song] hope it worked! i also hope that my blog stays a comfort place for you, pretty!

Sophie moved with the pitter-patter of the rain, allowing it to guide her rhythm as she moved throughout the castle, weaving in and out of room and hall as she cleaned. Perhaps it was due to the fact that she often found the sound of rain to serve as a source of white noise, but Sophie's usually vigorous, precise movements were languid and almost lethargic as she swept and beat dust from the many mismatched rugs that covered the castle's floors.

Even as Sophie moved into the bedroom that she now shared with the infamous wizard Howl, her heavy eyes were drawn to the sight of her bed, wide and soft, practically calling out to her to lie down for just a moment.

After several moments of arguing with herself, reminding herself that she'd never finish in time if she were to lay down now, she decided to give into the urge to rest upon the embroidered down pillows that Howl saved just for her.

Even as her fiery red hair broke free of its usual braid, having been tossled about from hours of tedious cleaning and washing from this morning, Sophie swept the braid to her back before laying down. She groaned softly as she felt her muscles relax, allowing her to melt into the embrace of the bed she now knew so well. A small smile found purchase upon her lips as she was reminded of Howl's musk, finding that their sheets still maintained his signature scent of fresh air, fire wood, and various flower-based perfumes he still fuddled with to this day.

Before she even realized it, the sound of the rain against the flimsy panes of glass that resided on the wall beside her had lulled her to sleep, allowing the house to fill with a gentle kind of quietness that dared not be broken by even the smallest of mice.

Sophie dreamed of many things: of her life back home, of her dear sisters, and of Vanny's gentle eyes, and of course, of her Howl. Yet, this time, she dreamed only of the gentle side of him that he desired to keep private. As if the well-tempered, tame side of himself were only meant to be shared between him and his beloved. That the moments in which he looked at her with such love filled eyes that her anger toward him was forfeit, and in which he brushed her hair behind her ear so gently it was as if he feared she would break, were all meant for her to see, and only her.

She awoke feeling more love for her husband than she had felt for a while, and the strong desire for him to return home accompanied it. Even as she rolled onto her opposite side, her eyes still shut tight, she wished to feel his warmth against her as she turned. However, upon opening her eyes, she found that she would have to wait even longer before she could see her husband's irritably handsome face once again.

Sophie rose to her feet, her eyes still filled with sleep as she carefully felt her way along the cluttered nightstand that resided on Howl's side of the bed. Instead of finding purchase on the smooth, cool varnish of the wood, her palm was met only with various gems and stones and things, most probably filled with some type of forgotten magic, and knickknacks of wood and metal that resembled either a person or place upon its surface. However, buried amongst them was an item that Sophie had yet to see. Her curious hands moved to where her eyes resided, and found a picture frame of silver lying face down beneath the clutter of the rest of the many things Howl certainly needed to sort through tonight.

As she turned the frame over within her light grasp, she felt her lips part as an involuntary gasp barely passed between them. Within the frame was an image of the most beautiful being that Sophie had ever seen. It was difficult to tell their finer details apart from the faded background they rested upon, as the image seemed to be covered in a black sort of grime that only stained her fingers the more Sophie dared to wipe it off, but she could tell that they were certainly no average looking person like her.

Their eyes seemed to shine through the black smear upon the canvas, and their color was as brilliant as the life that seemed to pour from their figure. Even though she only held a picture frame within her hands, Sophie felt as if she were in the presence of a very important being, but one that seemed as gentle and as kind as the summer breeze itself. Her heart seemed lighter the longer she stared, only for another, much heavier feeling to take its place as she was able to make out handwriting hidden well within the corner of the image, almost covered entirely by the edge of the frame and the black grime.

Sophie made her way to the nearest windowsill and allowed for the few remaining golden rays of sunlight to shine upon the corner of the picture. Her lips moved as her eyes made out the words upon the image, but her voice remained silent all the same.

"My starlight. Signed, your beloved Howl"

Sophie's eyes rose to take in the sinking sun before her as her mind raced. Who was this wonderous being, and why did Howl seem to care for them so? Was there someone she did not know about or...

No, that couldn't be the case, she assured herself. By the looks of the quality of the image, it had been very poorly taken care of for quite a long time. Still, Sophie would have to ask him when he returned.

So, Sophie situated herself by the fireplace, contemplating just how she would bring this up during dinner tonight, or even if she should. But in her mind, if she were to continue being Howl's wife and he her husband, then there should be no secrets between the two of them. So although her heart still felt unsatisfied by the many excuses and faux answers that she came up with to soothe herself in the mean time, she found herself once again patching the holes in one of Howl's suits.

And that was just how he found her when he arrived home, working the needle on one of his newest jackets, mumbling to herself about something he decided he wouldn't even bother making out himself. He was tired, and all that he wanted now that he was home was to simply lie in the arms of his beloved wife, and let her scold him about how late he had returned once again as he fell asleep in her embrace.

Yet, Sophie seemed to have other plans.

"Who is this?" Sophie asked, obviously trying to hide the hint of impatience that carried within her tone, but failing nonetheless. Still Howl decided to play along, letting Sophie place an oddly familiar piece of silver into his hands.

He froze for a few good moments as he realized what had been handed to him. His starlight. The face of his starlight was staring back at him with eyes that he nearly managed to forget that he missed. Seemingly alive, seemingly... there again. This silent exchange between Howl and the image did not at all go unnoticed by Sophie, and she couldn't help the bit of jealousy that bubbled up from her chest and onto her tongue as she once again asked Howl about the person trapped within the frame.

"They’re..." Howl began, trying but failing miserably to find the right words to explain just who this person was, and how they had remained just out of reach for so long.

Finally, after his eyes grew less dull and his tongue less dry, Howl gave in.

"Sophie, my love," he began, his tone far softer and much quieter than Sophie had ever remembered hearing before, even when he spoke to Michael.

"This is... someone I once knew long ago. They were... much like what you are to me now, but from what seems to be another life."

A gentle but sad smile tilted the corners of Howl's lips, and Sophie immediately began to wonder if her jealousy was rightly placed with anger, or if she should have simply let this go.

"A very long time ago, I've even forgotten just how long..." Howl laughed to himself, but it did not take a fool to see that there was no joy in his doing so.

"I met them. This... beautiful, powerful, magical being... they were perfect in every way, and I wanted to be just like them."

Sophie couldn't deny the sting that she felt at his words, but she also could not deny that she had not seen such a look in Howl's eyes as long as she had known him.

That was the night that Sophie learned of the place you held within Howl's heart. Of the times that he had spent wooing you with far more than just his guitar. How he had used nothing more than his words and honest attempts to pursue you as his only methods of gathering your attention. How, once he finally was able to call you his, you agreed to teach him all that you knew, only to later on assist him with his pupil.

How Michael had been your favorite with how sweet and innocent he was at the time. With how gentle you were with children and how kindly you treated Howl and his insecure heart. Sophie saw that you even now held Howl in your hands, and you had not a clue.

Or perhaps you did. But, she would never be able to ask, as she found that you had died rather long ago. Even in such a valiant attempt to save his life, Sophie could see the hurt and anguish held within the tears that threated to fall from Howl's eyes before they soon cascaded endlessly down his cheeks. Nonetheless, he continued to speak as if this were a story he would only ever tell once, and that if Sophie so much as breathed too loud to hear, then that would be a piece that she would miss for eternity.

Sophie's stubborn heart swooned as Howl spoke of how his encounters with the very witch that had cursed her had lead to your demise. That a bought of jealousy from the witch had caused her to hunt you endlessly, somehow always finding you wherever you and Howl had hidden away, and all at the expense of Howl's meaningless flirting before a time where he had even known you.

And despite learning how much of a beautiful person you were, and how you were certainly a person that Howl not only love, but deeply admired, Sophie couldn't help but feel a deep seeded pit of resentment build within her chest for you, just at the way Howl's eyes slowly moved across your figure within the frame, as if you were a treasure he would only be able to remember if he looked upon you.

Sophie couldn't help but despise you, despite how wonderful you seemed. She wished she could love you just as he did, but she now knew that you had a hold on Howl's heart that she would never be able to obtain, and for that reason alone, she would hate you.

After that night, Sophie did her best to steer clear of the bedroom for a while. Even going so far as to skip it completely during her usual cleaning rounds. But, she knew that this couldn't last forever. Despite how many times she tried to get Howl to sleep with her by the hearth or to keep her and Michael company for the night, she was always somehow pulled back into that room with him. And even with Howl at her side, she felt colder now than ever.

How was she meant to sleep in the arms of the man that she loved when his heart still belonged to another?

She could feel it in every bouquet of flowers he brought to her, in every smile he showed only to her, in every kiss he offered and gratefully received, she couldn't help but think that he did it all for you...

But for once, she never said a word to Howl about it. She didn't want to hear him call her the "only one for him" or his "one and only" because she was afraid that, as ignorant as it was that the thought alone brought tears to her eyes, she felt that if those words did not lift the heaviness of her heart, then nothing else ever could.

She had to accept that her husband still loved you. Someone that he couldn't leave her for, although she sometimes wished that he could. Someone she could never come home to find him alone with, and someone that could never write him forbidden proclamations of love within letters that she'd find hidden beneath his pillow, because you were gone. Far, far away in a place that neither of them could ever find you. And yet, Sophie still believed for just a moment that you were somehow warmer than she now felt.

But alas, Sophie's aching heart started to feel less alone. With each press of Howl's lips against her own, she could feel her heart beginning to race again as it once did. She could feel it in the way he would press her frame entirely against his in a tight, warm embrace before heading out. She could see it in the smile that once again seemed to reach his eyes before it appeared on his lips as he stared at her. Even in the sharp words that he would throw at her whenever one of them decided to be more stubborn than the other and cause yet another fight to occupy the shortening distance between them.

She knew that her husband still loved her, and that no matter what had happened in the past, he chose her now and he would do so a million more times in a million more lives.

And that was how she regained the courage to set foot into her bedroom once more to clean. And only to clean, as she told herself. But with each stroke of the bristles of the broom against the floor boards, and with each step she took upon the floor that caused the aging beams to cry and moan, she couldn't shake the feeling of eyes upon her.

It felt as if your ghost was with her, watching her from just out of reach. Except, the twisting in her gut came only from the fact that this was not a harmful creature, but rather one of gentile silence that only came to wish her well. And that somehow only made her feel worse.

So with fire in her heart and impatience upon her tongue, Sophie turned around, her fiery red braid swinging behind her as she fully intended to curse, shout, and scream at that ridiculously intrusive face behind the glass, only for her throat to go dry as her eyes meet with yours.

Her anger and those pesky feelings of insecurity slowly began to melt away as she stared into the frame, her angry eyes melding with your honest ones and finding nothing but peace and... love. Love not just for Howl, but anyone else who was lucky to see them.

She found that she could not hate you. She did not blame Howl for loving you the first time she heard of you, and she still could not bring herself to do so now. Not after knowing of the kind of person you were. Not after seeing your face.

So instead of fighting as she always did. Instead of always needing to be right, and to be seen and respected, Sophie decided she would instead do you a favor.

She picked up her broom, shut her eyes tight, and turned toward the door before the right words arose to her throat.

"I promise to look after him for you," was all that she said before returning to her sweeping.

A short promise, but an unbreakable one nonetheless.

Language of flowers.

Pairing: Young! Remus Lupin x Fem! Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: In a moment of darkness, Remus finds the light of his life.

Warnings: angst, grief, fluff, hurt/comfort, flower shop AU, lots of flowers

Masterlist

The flower shop was open, colors drifting through the breeze. But the sky was grey and Remus was feeling a weight crushing his heart and soul.

It was hard to say where it started and where it ended, the sky or the heaviness of his heart.

It had been a few months since 31st of October, spring slowly settling in. A few months since Remus had found himself alone, with his bestfriends dead or imprisoned.

A few months since Remus had been questioning everything he ever knew. He often wondered about it. If he was to be there with them, would things be different? And what about Padfoot?

He couldn't answer his own questions. They drove him insane.

A few birds, flying over him and chirping, brought him back to reality. Life was coming back to life, basking in the glory of now, but he was still stuck in the past.

A bell dinged when he opened the flower shop's door and all sorts of sweet smells hit him. There was some stark, but delicate, almost lacy, perfume drifting through the air, some daring ones too (like the lilies in the corner).

Lilies.

They broke his heart.

"Sorry, I'll be at the front in just a moment!" a soft voice called out.

Remus made no move whatsoever, afraid to wither the flowers with even just an intake of air. He was just standing there, in the middle of the isle, surrounded by bouquets and flowers, with his hands in his coat's pockets and shoes sticking to the floor. His hair was probably a mess too (when was it ever not?).

The soft pads of converse against the pristine tiles and the swishing of a dress drew his attention to the backroom. She was wearing a polka dotted, red dress and a warm smile. She reminded Remus of spring itself. "Hi! Sorry for that, just some organizational stuff! How may I help you?"

She was looking straight at him, not afraid to meet his eyes and he suddenly felt small, fidgeting on the spot. The flowery smells tickled his nostrils. "I, uh- I want to buy some flowers."

Her smile broadened, her white teeth glittering in the light. "Well, I sure would hope so! It is a flower shop, after all."

He felt his face burn up and he cleared his throat. "Just those lilies, please."

Her gaze turned to the flowers in the corner, their white so fragile and pure. "That's beautiful. Lilies symbolize purity, something heavenly. Did you know that?"

He shyly shook his head. His voice croaked out a no.

"Well, now you do." she softly smiled at him before going to take them out of their vase. She started counting them. "How many would you like?"

Remus remained silent for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor. "An even number would be fine."

Her moves halted, hands wrapped around the flowers' stems. "Oh, I see."

Even numbers for the deceased, odd numbers for the living.

Without turning to him, the florist brought six lilies out of the vase, putting them tenderly on the counter, as if she was dealing with a porcelain doll. "I'm sorry for your loss." she quietly added, her voice just a mere sound in the air.

Bashful, Remus shrugged, his hands still stuck in his pockets.

"These are beautiful flowers. I'm sure they'd love them." she continued, her fingers delicately tying a blue ribbon around the lilies.

He slowly lifted his head. "She was a lily and he always loved lilies." he whispered, but he was sure she still heard it. Her eyes met his, in a compassionate gaze, a touch of sadness in them.

"I'm Y/N." she said in a meek voice.

"Remus."

She handed him the bouquet, fingertips brushing. A strand of hair was falling from the ponytail she hastily put up. "That'd be ten pounds."

"Make it twenty. For the company."

She laughed, eyes lighting up and cheeks blushing. "You're a charming one. But can't do. It wouldn't be fair. Just ten pounds."

Remus felt a daring something in his chest and he took a step closer to the counter. "Fifteen and we'll see each other again?"

She shook her head, a smile still etched on her lips. "Yeah, okay, can't say no to that."

His own smile turned into a grin, before he put the money on the counter. He straightened his back and saluted her.

Y/N waved, her voice carrying sounds of worry. "Take care, Remus. Flowers wither easily."

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He knew the path all too well, taking turns through the cemetery. Left, right, left and right again. He was still holding the lilies in his hands, maybe a bit too tightly, his knuckles turning white.

It was a bit odd coming back here. Nothing ever changed since the funeral. And he supposed nothing would ever change. Life would go on, time passing by, but the cemetery would still be stuck here in a time bubble, a testimony to the past.

He knew the path all too well. Right, left, left. Grave stones after grave stones. Left, right, left. Stillness. Quietness.

Loneliness.

He remembered the times when they would all joke around (Prongs had the most bonkers ideas), and Lilly would be the one who'd always get them out of trouble. He remembered how it felt to have someone besides you in the darkest moments.

And now he had no one.

Right, left. Stop.

The grave stone greeted him like always: cold and motionless, their names hitting him like bullets.

James and Lilly Potter.

He'd forever miss them.

Remus placed the bouquet on the grave, letting a moment of quiet pass, before he turned on his heels and left.

He knew the path all too well.

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He kept coming back to the flower shop every month. At first he only bought lilies in even numbers, but then she started suggesting him to try something else ("Maybe white hyacinth. It symbolizes loveliness, prayers for someone.") Other times, she'd have a bouquet ready for him to pick up.

Remus no longer felt lonely. There was a light in every thing she said or did. She was careful with her words, and even more careful with the flowers. More often than not, even surrounded by a multitude of colours and flowers, the only flower he ever saw was her.

It was a wonder, to begin with. He'd get lost in the way she handled the flowers, so carefully, delicately. Just a touch of the hand, caressing them, never squeezing them. Angelic. Velvety.

After a while, he started to stop by just to greet her. He'd usually find her in the back, planting seeds or wetting the flowers she was growing. (These are irises. They symbolize faith. Isn't that beautiful?")

Y/N was the whole spring in the form of flowing dresses and warm smiles.

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The flower shop was closed that day. He frowned in a confused manner, sticking his hands in his pockets. For a moment, he rocked on his heels, looking around, a breeze ruffling his hair. And then he turned to leave, a destination already imprinted in his mind.

But a weep stopped him. He recognized her. Her voice was muffled and strained by cries, but it was still her voice.

He followed the sound, taking the corner of the shop. His knees were weak, trembling just at the thought of her crying.

He found her on her knees, near a grave behind the shop. There was a whole meadow behind the flower shop, flowers everywhere and Remus figured out that this is where she was growing most of her flowers.

He took a tentative step towards her before stopping abruptly. What was he supposed to say? Words failed him.

Y/N sniffled. "I know you're there. I can feel you, you know?"

Remus gulped, before taking a seat near her. He didn't dare to take a look at the grave, instead gazing at her, waiting for her to say something. Patiently.

"I'm sorry that I closed the shop today."

He shook his head desperately, reaching out with his hand to touch her arm but dropping it at the last second. He didn't know how to comfort her. "Hey, hey, it's fine. I understand."

A broken laugh made it through her lips. "You're my most faithful customer."

"Irises, right?"

Y/N laughed again, turning to meet his eyes, unshed tears shining in her own. "You remembered!"

He shyly shrugged (he seemed to be doing that often around her). "Of course I did. I remember everything you ever tell me."

Her grin turned soft and her gaze dropped. "You're sweet. I wish I could repay you for all the kindness you've ever shown me. The business thrives just because of you."

This time he didn't hesitate to grasp her hand. She was soft, just as he always imagined. She was warm too. Her touch was velvety, much like a petal would be. "Don't say that. It's always a pleasure to come by. And your flowers are some of the most beautiful I've ever seen. They're very alive. You put love in your work. Anyone would see that."

She raised her head, wonder in her eyes. "It used to be mom's business. But I took over once she-" She inhaled. "Once she passed away."

Remus was familiar to grief and loneliness. He slightly squeezed her hand.

"Her name was Iris." Y/N added.

He nodded his head. "I see." He pushed behind her ear a strand of hair. "My best friend's name was Lily."

Her eyes turned sad once again. "Purity."

"Faith." Remus replied, referring to her mother's name.

An unspoken, shared pain settled between them as she slowly let her head fall against his shoulder, a few birds singing in the distance.

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The bell chimed when he enter the flower shop that evening. He was smiling, his face flushed.

"Sorry, just a sec!" her voice called out, much like it did the first time they met.

Her converse padded against the tiles much like they did the very first time. Her dress swished like it did the first time.

And Remus blushed much like he did the first time he saw her. Y/N's face lit up when she rounded the corner and met his gaze. No amount of greetings could reflect the excitement and warmth in her eyes. The sun would be jealous of the light in them.

She approached the counter, a skip in her steps. "What flowers this time? Magnolias?"

Remus shook his head. "Roses."

Her lips formed a perfect "O", eyebrows rising. "That's new. Even or odd?" she asked, already going around the counter towards the flowers.

"Odd, this time." replied Remus, carefully watching for a reaction, one that'd betray her thoughts (he was hoping for a blush to resurface, or a tint of jealousy).

Even numbers for the deceased, odd numbers for the living.

Her moved halted, fingertips barely brushing the roses' stems. "How many?" Her voice was even, but Remus could detect a sound of annoyance in it.

"Just one. A single red rose."

The flower shop went silent. Somewhere outside, leaves rustled and the wind of early April started picking up, ruffling the trees. Her hands froze in the air, once again, before she straightened her back, her face void of emotion. Her face betrayed her, though. ''Who's the lucky one?''

''You.''

It was as if time stopped. Y/N was speechless for the third time that day and Remus took a few steps closer to the counter, trying to meet her eyes. ''It's you, Y/N. The rose is for you.'' And with a tremor in his voice, he hastily added. ''That is if you accept it.''

He was now in front of her, hands on the counter itching to touch hers, to grasp her fingers in his, ''Please, do.'' he whispered.

She slowly lifted her head, her eyes shyly meeting his. ''Is it for me?''

Remus nodded his head, soft crinkles appearing in the corner of his eyes. ''Indeed.''

''Nobody has ever given me a flower before.''

''That's quite ironic. You have a flower shop.'' he said while a breathy small laugh escaped his lips. His fingers tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. He could see her bright eyes clearer now.

She shrugged. ''People buy flowers for others.''

Remus cupped her cheek gently. ''And now I bought one for you. Please, say yes. Let me take you out. I promise I'll be extra good. I'll hold doors open for you. I'll hold your hand. I'll pay. Just- just have me.''

Y/N turned her head slightly and kissed the back of his hand. ''Yes.''

A grin broke out onto Remus' face and he lightly let his forehead fall against her, the sun rays bathing both of them. The quietness filling the room. Tranquility.

''You'll still have to pay for the rose, though.''

''Right, yes. Of course.''

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A/N: Hello! Thank you so much for reading! I've always felt for Remus after the whole Voldemort fiasco. All his best friends died or got unfairly imprisoned. One of them even faked his death! So, this fic kinda blossomed (pun intended) from that. I threw in some language of flowers as well, lots of researching!

Another Remus Lupin fic is in the works. Hint: it's a Titanic AU.

If you'd like to be added to my tag list, just comment under this post or send me an ask! Lots of love xx

Tag list: @bohemianrhapsody86 @andreead

Okay here’s a little early morning (who tf am I kidding I’ve been awake since 3:30 today) writing of a concept I’ve been thinking of…

— — — — — —

The halls were quiet. Not a single sound left the confines of the doors sealed shut with extra security. It smelled of nothing in particular. No scent of rubbing alcohol, food, cleaning products, nothing rancid either. Halls repeating one after another, it’s a little unsettling, but he makes it to one room. He slides the keycard into the reader and waits for it to unlock before taking it out.

The first door opens with a light noise, then the second and the third. A booth being the only thing separating the room. The glass shatterproof. Three holes are carved into the middle of it to allow conversations between the two. Behind the glass sat a woman. Hair dark and long as ever, her skin pale as it hasn’t been hit by UV rays, just the artificial light from the bulbs in the room. She looks worn out, her trays of food sat at the exchange chute. She probably only took a few bites of it before she abandoned it. She looks up at him. Eyes sunken in, face a bit hollow, and hair tucked behind her ears.

He sat down at the booth.

“May I help you, dove?” Her voice smoothed over the nickname with indifference. She stood up from her spot on the floor and made her way to the chair they so kindly provided for her.

“There’s been a recent attack (blah blah blah)” (I haven’t thought about what to really write just yet)

“Mhm. So you came here because they share attack patterns similar to mine?”

He stays quiet.

“Go on, it’s not kind to keep a lady waiting, you know.”

“(Insert date and place of attacks and more info)”

“Seems like they’re pretty young or inexperienced. This usually happens after someone’s been sent on their first mission. It’s either to prove themselves worthy to be accepted into a space, or they just recently started hunting on their own.”

“You see ghouls don’t have the privilege to live life with family members. They either die when you’re really young or you never meet them. Some are lucky enough to have loved their whole life and watch their families grow for generations.”

“What I’m trying to say is that they probably lost their care giver. The one that hunts and puts food on the table so in place they’re stepping up. They’re being messy and aren’t thinking about their tracks. They’re desperate. It’s quite easy to figure this out, you look like a smart guy. Humor me, why did you come here for my help?”

— — — — — —

This was written when I was half asleep, there’s bound to be errors n shit. I apologize for that 😭 but that’s the concept. I’ll refine it when I have the time but yeah as of right now this is it. Character has been undecided, I’m thinking about one of the boys in the Quinx squad. But yeah that’s all :p oh also reader is supposed to be a foreigner, not Japanese.

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

My Atlantis, We Fall | Finale

Part 1. Part 2.

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

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

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

Words: 6.3k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Doubt.

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

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

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

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

୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ

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

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

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

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

Still, Viktor dismissed everyone.

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

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

୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Excuse me?" You scoffed.

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

Ugh.

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

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

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

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

Yeah, I know.

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

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

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

Viktor is dying.

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

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

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

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

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

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

None.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We don't have time for this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Whatever it contained, it could wait.

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

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

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

At last, the vehicle stopped.

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

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

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

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

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

You found the room—his room.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dead.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The sense of finality rang in your ears.

His face appeared serene, which only boosted your pain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was final.

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

He was gone, permanently this time.

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

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

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

The door clicked shut, leaving you alone with him.

Alone in your grief, your despair.

Alone with the reality that Viktor was gone.

୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The boat.

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

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

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

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

"I'll get it!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was so distinctly Viktor—obsessive, conscientious.

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

God, you missed him.

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

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

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

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

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

"Still the most beautiful."

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

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

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

And more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What you found stole the breath from your lungs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My little sun,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For both of us.

Yours always, Viktor

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

Second Son (XVII) | 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: Farewells and changes are on the horizon, as are unavoidable confrontations.

Part XVI / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: I hope you guys enjoy this...

You don’t think you’ve ever sprinted so fast. As you clamber through the bleached doorway of the home, nearly scaring Asger out of his skin, you suddenly jolt to a stop. Luna peers from over your shoulder, clavicle pressed against your back as she tries to distinguish the cause of your rigidness. 

Slowly stepping inside, you feel your knees tremble as doubt begins to seep into your veins. Asger shoots you a concerned look before filling a glass up with water and disappearing into Regulus’ room. 

Luna carefully guides you to the table and you take a moment to lean against the beat wood. 

“Are you going to stay here?” Her airy words were free of judgment, tone light and even as if she were simply asking you what tea you preferred. You wordlessly nod, barely reacting when the girl pats your shoulders and skips after Asger. 

You run your fingers down your coat as hesitation nips at your nerves, a bubble of anxiety rippling through your chest and up into your throat. Hobbling steps echo distantly in your head, and you’re faintly aware of Anders’ approaching magic. 

“You okay, kid?” His voice was gruff, but colored with understanding. 

You hum quietly, still lost in your head. An unnerving silence roots itself in the room, and you hear Anders shift from leg to leg as he seems to grapple with himself for the right words. 

“Alright.” He huffs. 

You spin around and face the man, eyes widening at him before gluing to the open window across the room, “Alright? You don’t think I’m a coward?” 

Anders rolls his eyes and limps towards you, placing a rugged hand on your shoulder, “Hell you thinking that for?” He moves to sit down next to you, “You’re a lot of things kid, a coward ain’t one of ‘em. Besides, I would do the same.” 

Tilting your head, you swallow harshly as a prickly sensation wraps around your neck, “What do you mean?” 

“If my Anne were to walk through that door right now, I don’t even know what’d I do,” He shakes his head with a wry smile, “Isn’t it funny that you can wish for something so desperately, but the prospect of it actually happening…” 

“It’s unbelievable.” You add, watching as the man nods solemnly. You almost feel selfish for allowing your emotions to taunt you, knowing that you were being handed an ineffable opportunity that the man would kill for. 

Before you can say much else, Asger cracks open the door with a resounding creak, slowly padding out with an unreadable expression, “He’s asking for you.” 

Your eyes widen considerably at his words, and you turn to look at Anders for guidance. The older man simply jerks his head towards the door, eyes closing as an imperceptible smile tugs at his lips. He looked like he was making peace with something–but what?  

Slowly making your way towards the commodious room, you feel your skin buzz and numb, mouth drying up as you gradually sink into a pool of uncertainty. As you cross the threshold, eyes set on the floor, you feel Luna slink around you with a little pat to your back, leaving you both alone.

As the door closes behind you, you slowly raise your gaze up. 

“Hello, birdie.” Regulus’ smile is strained, as if he were pained, but his eyes are practically glowing under the light. He’s sitting up on the makeshift bed, arms resting in his lap as he slowly fiddles with the frays of the blanket. 

A sob tears through your throat, muddling your words into an incomprehensible blubber as you practically fly towards the boy, throwing yourself into his chest. Your tears were no doubt pooling through the thin fabric of his shirt, but the onslaught of searing emotion only continues to flare as you feel him wrap his arms around you.

His arms. It felt so foreign, but so safe. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to him not being in a rectangular frame.

“It’s okay now, I’m here.” He whispers, hand running down your back as he soothes you. 

You shift in his arms and lift your head up, broad tear tracks clinging to your cheeks, “Reggie…you remember me?” If you weren’t so doped up on a tidal wave of emotions, you would have cringed at how thick your voice came out. 

The boy smiles at you softly before bringing a hand up to cup your cheek, “Wouldn’t be able to forget you even if I tried, love.” 

A burst of affection threatens to demolish all of your sense of propriety as you gaze up at the boy, eyes furiously darting around his face to memorialize the tender emotion that paints his eyes. 

You rest your head on his shoulder and tiredly huff, feeling him shiver under you as the cool air hits his neck. It’s only after the passing of a few beats of silence when you realize that you’re practically sprawled across his lap. 

Gaping momentarily at the mortification that shatters your euphoria, you slowly shuffle off of him, “Sorry, Reg.” 

The boy tilts his head in confusion before tightening his hold, gently guiding your head back onto his shoulder, “Nothing to apologize for, birdie.” 

You take a few moments to compose yourself, gently sniffling as your tears begin to cease in intensity, only occasional droplets cascading down. Nuzzling into Regulus’ shoulder unabashedly, your voice comes out a tad muffled, “So do you remember everything then?” 

The boy drops his cheek down atop your head, fingers drawing patterns on your hand as he hums, “It’s all a bit foggy, but I remember the vital things. Of course, the memories from when I was a portrait are more coherent than my childhood memories, but I’m mainly trying to remember how to articulate having a physical body.” 

“You’re not doing too bad.” You tease, a light smile playing on your lips. 

Regulus’ chest vibrates vaguely as he emits a small chuckle, “Oh?” The boy peers down at you before dropping his lips down to the top of your head. Your heart skips at the blatant show of affection, and you grow impossibly fonder of the boy. 

“Thank you for coming back to me.” You whisper softly. 

He slowly drops back into the capacious bed, drawing you down with him as he tucks you against his side, “Thank you for finding me…again.” 

You laugh airily and drop your hand on top of his, suppressing your fluster as he effortlessly weaves your fingers together. The both of you lay together in a comfortable silence, a sudden exhaustion weighing on your chest as you listened to the rhythmic beating of Regulus’ heart. 

You’re unsure of how much time has passed the next time you’re fully cognizant, eyes blinking rapidly to shake away the heaviness of your eyelids. It seems the lethargic state you were reduced to after your emotional reunion led you to a dreamless slumber. In your sleep, you practically glued yourself to Regulus, coming to a realization that the boy had somehow been shoved into the crook of your neck, now also in a peaceful drowse. 

Brushing his curls away from your cheek, you run your fingers along his spine lightly, nails dancing along the clothed plane of his back. At your movements, the boy stirs groggily, a throaty grumble interrupting the atmospheric silence of the room.

You tighten your hold on him and grin when he blearily opens his eyes, head shifting to chase after the warmth of your skin. 

“Morning, baby.” He whispers, nose nudging up against your jaw. His voice is scratchy and still marred by inklings of sleepiness, and you’re not entirely sure if he noticed the little pet name. 

You bite your lip to tame the blinding grin screaming to escape on your face, bringing your fingers to run against his scalp, “Actually, I think it’s nighttime.” 

Regulus huffs quietly against your neck, “Good, so let’s go back to sleep.” 

You hum and open your mouth to agree, but the rumbling of your stomach cuts through the air. Coughing lightly, you ignore the blazing embarrassment that pins itself in your chest, choosing to instead continue your movements.

Regulus nuzzles against you again before slowly detaching from you, raising himself on his elbows as he hovers over you. You could see the sleepiness fade away from his gaze, and you bring a hand up to tuck a curl behind his ear. 

“Let’s get you some food, birdie.” He mumbles, dropping down to peck your forehead. 

The boy sluggishly stretches as he practically rolls off the bed, arms raised above his head as he yawns. You smile and begin to flee the cozy confines of the blanket, readily moving away from the warmth to stick by Regulus. 

“Do you want some tea?” You ask, keeping a careful watch to make sure he wouldn’t promptly collapse into a weak heap of flesh and bones. Luckily, it seemed that the boy was gradually gaining strength. 

Slowly pulling the door open, you peer out into the bleak twilight illuminating the house and sigh when you see that the others aren’t around. As you make your way to the cupboards, hands deftly flying about to quickly make some tea for the both of you, you feel Regulus wrap his arms around you. 

“Look at us being bloody domestic.” He murmurs, knocking his head gently against yours. 

You feel the blood rushing through your ears as you direct all your energy towards making sure you don’t accidentally break anything, too overwhelmed by the affection. 

You clear your throat as you put the kettle on the stove, leaning back against the boy, “Not that I hate it, actually, quite the contrary, but I didn’t peg you as an affectionate person.” 

Regulus draws patterns on your arms as he muses, “Hm, ‘m usually not. Just for you, I suppose.” 

You were sure you were about to go into cardiac arrest, one hand flying up to make sure your heart wasn’t attempting to fly out of your chest. You turn around to face the boy, eyes wide with uncertainty, “Just me?” 

The boy looks back at you with an assured gaze, smiling dopily at you, “Yes, just you, birdie.” You mirror his smile and nod slowly, still unsure of what to say. 

Before either of you can escalate the situation further, the loud whistling of the kettle rings through the air, its shrill screeching causing you to flinch back. You muffle a laugh behind your hand and watch as Regulus blinks in disorientation for a moment, shooting a look of mock irritation at the steel instrument. 

“No, please continue,” a brassy voice rings out from behind you both. You peer around Regulus to see Asger giving you a stare laden with impassiveness. Smiling impishly at the unimpressed man, you simply avert your gaze to the kettle next to you before glancing back at him, “Tea?” 

As the breezy coat of nightfall loomed in the skies, you all decided to head out for a small trek to a pier nearby. Luna skips ahead of you and Regulus, leading your small group, as she scurries around to look for unique stones. Anders and Asger were trailing the three of you, both men walking in a comfortable silence. 

A crisp wave of wind soars through the air, dotting your nose with coolness. Regulus has his arm looped with yours, eyes drinking up the sight of the environment around you, shining in disbelief and awe. 

A flicker of sadness lingers in your heart as you ponder about how muddled everything must have seemed to him when he was a portrait, time gelling together into indistinguishability. You weren’t sure which fate was worse: becoming an inferi or being stuck as a portrait. 

The echoing of your footsteps on the wooden dock sound through the night with a woody hollowness, eyes trailing up the pier and towards the inky pool of water around you all. You feel Regulus tense beside you, and you stop in your tracks to study him. 

His eyes are glassy and unfocused as he stares into the darkness of the water, body rigid as an internal turmoil seems to paralyze him. You want to smack yourself over the head with a bludger — Regulus was uncomfortable with the murky surroundings because it was reminiscent of his demise. 

Tugging at his arm, you slowly guide him away from the dock, shaking your head when Anders glances at your retreating forms. Regulus slowly floats back down to you, eyes no longer as dim. 

“I’m sorry. I totally forgot.” You mutter, hands reaching over to comfort him. The boy looks devastatingly vulnerable in his state, an anxious frown creeping up on his face. He had always been so strong for you, it was easy to forget that he wasn’t insusceptible.

He shakes his head and subconsciously leans towards you, arms slowly lifting up to wrap around your frame, “No, I didn’t even realize myself.” His voice is faint, seeming to be tucked away behind his brief panic. 

“Do you think you’re okay to travel, Reg?” You whisper, hands crawling up his shoulders to brush against his neck. The boy looks at you in confusion, but nods firmly. 

Sighing, your hands rest on either side of his face, thumbs swiping against his cheeks, “When I went back to the cave with Anders to retrieve you, we accidentally encountered Voldemort.” 

Regulus’ words nearly jumble together at the news and his mouth drops open, “You bumped into the Dark Lord?”

Grimacing at the wording, you shake your head, “Only briefly. He could only see me, but I’m apprehensive to stay here long. I don’t want to endanger the Fiskes.” 

“Where will we go?” He mumbles with furrowed eyebrows. 

You bite the inside of your cheek and divert your attention to the stars causing Regulus’ eyes to flicker around your face, “Birdie, what does that look mean?” 

Hesitating for a few moments, you consider all of your options before speaking. 

“Reg, maybe you’d be safer here,” you reluctantly voice, “I mean, where I’m thinking…it’s too hampered by uncertainties.” You frown, eyes meeting his gaze to try and implore him to see your reasoning. It was not an outlandish assumption in your eyes, as bringing him with you would mean answering inexorable questions and integrating him back into society amidst a full blown war. 

Regulus recoils as if you’ve slapped him, eyes wide with shock that rapidly bleeds into outrage, “You don’t actually think I’m letting you run off alone, right?” His voice is taut, bordering coldness, and you shakily exhale as your mind races. 

“You’re still recovering, Reg. Your magical core is still-” You begin to sputter, but Regulus shakes his head, and it has your words flushing away in a sweep of uncertainty. 

He shifts impossibly closer to you, eyes softening as he rubs your back, “I know that you’re concerned, birdie, but I want to be with you. I’m sorry that I got snippy with you right now, but this isn’t negotiable.” He frowns and leans over to nudge his nose against yours, “I’ll follow you to the ends of the world—wherever your heart desires, but I’m not leaving you to your lonesome when the Dark Lord is on your tail.” 

“If you come with me, it won’t be easy.” You breathe out. 

He smiles and tilts his head to the side, “All the more reason to follow you, then.” 

You assess him for a few moments before nodding, rolling your eyes playfully at the satisfied glint in his eyes, “Stubborn one, aren’t you?” 

Regulus hugs you to his body and muses, “Well, someone needs to keep your self-preservation in check.” 

As the stars slip away from the canvas of the sky to give room to the rising sun, you all gather inside the house, surrounding the dining table. You had to practically mandhandle Regulus into your usual seat as there weren’t enough chairs, but the boy only gave in once you compromised to share the seat with him. 

Luna periodically flashes the both of you grins, eyes shooting off through you as she tangles with visions of the future. Anders leans back in his chair to stare at Regulus, seeming to appraise his worthiness. Asger simply sips his tea and awaits for the conversation to ensue, humored eyes peering at you all over the rim of his cup. 

“Anders, I think that we should leave now,” you pause to clear your throat, “I don’t want to intrude and I hate the thought that I’m endangering you both, now that Voldemort is on my trail.” You word-vomit, hands fidgeting anxiously in your lap. 

Subtlety was not your forte. 

Regulus brings a steady hand to rest on your jittery ones as Anders grunts, “I understand, kid. You do know that we don’t mind though, right?” He raises an eyebrow at you when you don’t respond, “But I get it.” 

You breathe out in relief and straighten up in your seat, “Thank you, Anders, truly. This whole experience has been life changing to say the least, and I think I’m going to miss you both, honestly.” 

Both men meet your eyes steadily, and Asger breaks out into a small grin before placing his cup down, “I think we’ll miss you guys more, right Dad?” He turns to the older man, who merely grunts and looks away, but you would bet galleons that you saw a smile flash across his face. 

Anders slowly pushes himself up and walks off into his room, emerging moments later with a satisfied expression, “Here, kid.” You slowly rise up in confusion as Anders extends a stack of clipped papers towards you. 

“What?” 

The older man shakes his head and drops back down into his seat, “You didn’t think I’d actually publish someone else’s research, did you?” 

You hug the papers to your chest and gape at the man, “But, a lot of this is your research now. Besides, why would you…” You trail off, still boggled by a storm of perplexion. 

Anders waves you off and rubs his knee, “It's our research, kid. Anyway, I never intended to write it for myself in the first place, I’m much too old to get caught up in the academic world again.” He looks up at you with a proud sheen in his eyes, “Besides, you did most of the rune work and connection of theories. You better make something of yourself, yeah?” 

You are rendered speechless at the blatant display of care from him, and you find yourself wrapping the older man up in a hug before you can stop yourself. The man pats your back as you whisper hushed words of gratitude. 

You were practically holding your future in your hands. 

As the sun breaks over the veil of morning twilight, dispersing the ground of its mist and biting chill, you all stand at the edge of the village. It is bitterly nostalgic for you, mind flashing back to all those months ago when you stumbled upon Asger during the peak of night. 

Regulus stands back, now sporting one of Asger’s oversized corduroy jackets (a deep green, in slytherin fashion, and he looked offensively good in it). He watches as you and Luna say your final farewells to the father and son duo. Luna and Asger chat idly, with the older man patting the girl’s head fondly, smiling when she passes over a large blue stone to him. 

Turning away from the pair, you smile sadly at Anders, the older man already facing you with a calm expression, “Stay safe, kid. Tom won’t know what hit him.” 

You flash an assenting smile at him before stepping forward to give him one last hug. Closing your eyes, you are rendered inarticulate with poignance, “I’m gonna miss you, old man.” 

He pulls back and pats your shoulder reassuringly, “We’ll be alright, I think it’s time little old me did some soul searching.” 

Frowning in confusion, you lean back to ask, “How do you mean?” 

“Reine has treated us well all these years, but Asger and I were thinking of a change in scenery.” The man avows calmly. 

You step back and clutch the research papers tightly in your hands, “We’ll see each other again, right?” 

Asger swoops in and swings an arm over his father’s shoulders just as Luna bounces over to your side, hand clasping yours. The younger man grins at you brightly and inclines his head, “Who knows? We’ll be okay though,” he raises his head and his eyes grow serious, “but we want to thank you. You’ve given us a lot to think about, and I think it's time we celebrated my mother’s life instead of stewing in static.” 

You nod, mouth betraying just how sentimental you felt as it tugged into a frown, “Go well, both of you.” 

Anders cracks a small smile and they both wave you off. 

“Give him hell, kiddo.” 

“Take care of yourselves.” 

Wordlessly, you spin on your heel and walk towards Regulus with Luna in tow, the boy reaching towards you as you approach. In a blur, you’re interlacing your fingers with his and apparating away, the warping taking your mind away from any lingering sadness. 

As you touch down on smooth pavement, you feel Regulus shift closer to you, swaying ever so slightly on his feet. After steadying the boy, you turn to take in the sight in front of you — Zabini Manor. White pergolas embellished with thick grape vines curtaining the structure were erected serenely on the clipped lawn. Further back, winding balustrades, highlighted by Italian terracotta pots housing enormous clusters of begonias seemed to welcome you. 

The regal property towered over your figures, so much so that you all almost ignored the faint popping sound that echoed from next to you in favor of drinking up the sight. 

“Fiore be taking the Contessa’s guests to the parlor room.” 

You swivel around and face the house elf, nodding mutely as you’re all led inside. Regulus’ decorum is impeccable, years of etiquette lessons and pure blood preaching seeming to still be instilled in every joint of his body. Luna digs inside of her satchel all the way there and you hear vague clacking and shuffling from the bag. 

As the heavy wooden doors swing shut behind you, you feel your neck prickle with goosebumps as you release your magic, seeking out any familiar signatures. Your movements border robotic as you beeline to sit on one of the ottomans in the parlor, spacing out as you peer through the window and see rows of hydrangea bushes.  

It was time to face reality.

Regulus slowly traces shapes on the back of your hand as he glances around, no doubt comparing the furnishing to the dismal designs lining Grimmauld Place. 

“The brevity of peace is palpable these days, dear.” The euphonious voice breaches the threshold of the room before anything else, and you’re quick to school your face as the Contessa struts into the room, tobacco pipe clasped in one hand. 

You stand up and smile diminutively at the woman, “Contessa Zabini. Apologies for the intrusion.”

She sends you a sharp grin before taking her place on an ornate armchair, “No need for the pleasantries, my dear. I must say that you are rather better company than those friends of yours.” She takes a quick hit of her pipe, crossing one leg over the other. 

Masking your shock, you smile genuinely and shake your head, “I’m touched, Contessa. Which reminds me, I have failed to properly correspond with Blaise these past few months. I don’t suppose he’s tried to cajole those friends of mine for information?” 

The woman exhales a cloud of smoke and hums, “Ah yes, Blaise was quite disappointed from what I hear, but of course we both understood your precarious position.” 

“I’ll have to write to him soon, then. I assume that everything is well here?” You begin to fiddle with the corner of the papers in your lap, back aching minutely from your prim posture. 

The Contessa brings a hand to rest on her raised knee, eyes momentarily flickering towards Regulus as she smiles, “Quiet and uneventful, my dear. Now,” she tilts her head to gauge the sight in front of her, “I see that you’ve found a friend.” 

You could see the cogs whirring behind her eyes, mouth set into a thin line as something akin to familiarity seeps through the cracks of her expression. Nodding, you peer at the boy from the corner of your eye to observe his expression before replying, “Yes, he’s actually what I was referring to when I mentioned my personal interests.” 

The woman, to her credit, masks her brimming curiosity well, eyebrows raising as she mutely encourages you to continue. Regulus clears his throat quietly, “It’s a pleasure to make your company, Contessa Zabini.” 

The Contessa smiles pointedly at the boy and hums, “Well mannered…how interesting. The pleasure is all mine.” She places her pipe down on the round table next to her, eyes never straying from Regulus’ expressionless face, “Forgive me, but you look quite familiar, have we met before?” 

Regulus raises his eyebrows in show, “I do not believe so, I’ve been in recuperation for a number of years now.”

She doesn’t seem entirely convinced but turns back to you with a delighted smirk as she continues to address the boy next to you, “I see. I do hope to get your name then as it intrigues me that you have the ability to convert someone—who the public thought to be a staunch Dumbledore supporter, into a neutral ally.” 

Before either of you can respond, the doors practically burst off their hinges as they swing open. The thundering sound has you wincing from your spot, eyes immediately flying towards the source of the intrusion. Your mouth peels open at the sight of your friends and a very enthusiastic Sirius. 

Harry immediately beams as he catches sight of you, but his eyes grow as wide as saucers when he takes notice of the boy next to you. Hermione looks exhausted by the commotion around her, no doubt having mentally aged a significant amount in the time of her babysitting duties while you were away. Ron blinks owlishly at you, and waves hesitantly, posture shifty as he averts his gaze to assess the undisguised glower on the Contessa’s face. 

Luna jumps up from her seat and scurries over to greet the trio, her smile immediately drawing Harry’s attention away from you both. 

Sirius chuckles loudly as he stalks towards you, arms splayed wide open as he goes to hug you, “Pup, you’re finally here!” You quickly hug the older man back, bewildered by his ability to immediately get tunnel vision. 

As he draws back from you, your taciturn demeanor only heightens as you watch shock bloom across his face. The man springs back from you in a flash, eyes bulging out as he stammers for words at the sight of Regulus. The boy next to you gazes at his brother with regretful eyes, shoulders now sagging under the weight of the older man’s presence. 

The fraught silence is interrupted by a disbelieving whisper from Sirius, “Regulus?”  

“It’s good to see you, Siri.” 

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Chapter 3: Recreation—Redoubt

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah. I know." Touka sighed

"What.. happened after we-"

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

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

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

"You too, Reina."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What do you wanna do? Squad leader?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where’s Juuzou?” He asked.

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

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

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

wc: 2.5k previous chapter  masterlist next chapter

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

ps. this chapter was completed during midwinter break

Tag list:

Hi it’s me again 😅 can’t get enough, so I thought of Ayato and prompt 12 with fem reader!! Them being childhood sweethearts. Again congrats on 4000 followers, you deserve it :)

# tags: scenario; friendship; fluffy shit; flashbacks; childhood sweethearts; human!reader; sfw

includes: female reader ft. ayato kirishima {tokyo ghoul}

author’s note: hello once again! i hope it's the ayato from tokyo ghoul (not from genshin impact or diabolik lovers), based on your previous request :) thank you for this prompt!

12. “But we are not married.” “Then marry me.”

You and Ayato have known each other for over eighteen years. Now you are twenty-four and twenty-five, have enough knowledge about life and also many situations behind you.

Your friendship is a sequence of pleasant memories, it’s dozens of trips together outside of Tokyo, weeks without contact and months of living in silence, your long-hour quarrels, your live together for three years in small flat, your ‘on college’ chapter, his being a ghoul and all the bad things he’s done, your own first love and his broken heart after several relationships with women... It’s all your moments with a glass of wine or something stronger, it’s just watching horror movies together until dawn, running away from important meetings, also your first serious work and all the other things that have kept the two of you apart for almost twenty years, but also made your relatio stronger than ever before.

You understood each other without words, you understood each other through gestures, facial expressions and the way of breathing. You knew each other perfectly, you knew about all your failures and about every, even the smallest, situation that made you smile or happy. There was no taboo between you, no shyness.

And although Ayato in your eyes has become a really handsome and calm guy, still looking at him to this day you are able to remember his much younger – seven-year-old – version, who stole your favorite bucket from the sandbox and argued with you that he just found it and had to take care of it... At first your friendship was turbulent and full of contradictions; the boy took your toys, scared you and ran away from you, while you called him ‘nasty black cat’ and ‘big dummy’. His father and your mother looked at you with light amusement on their faces, wondering when you will finally come to an understanding.

To this day, you remember how – after almost a year of friendship and playing together in the sandbox – Ayato approached you with a paper bag filled with cookies in your favorite flavor. It was a kind gesture that put the most beautiful smile on your baby face at that time. The boy thought it was really cute. It’s cute to see you happy and looking at him as someone you really like.

“...You should give me a kiss as a ‘Thank you’. I made them with my sister.” He said then an you only giggled under your breath. The present Ayato looked at you with furrowed brows and you just shook your head. You were at the coffee shop.

“But we are not married.” You said seventeen years ago and he just stamped his foot.

“Then marry me.” His declaration was sincere and loud at the time, causing your mummy to giggle and his dad to laugh out loud; he almost dropped the newspaper from his hands.

The memory only made you smile more and more, the tip of your nose turning slightly red.

“What’s going on, Y/N?” The dark-haired man put down the mug with the steaming drink, and you sighed amused.

“I just remembered something...” You began mysteriously, causing another surprised look to be sent in your direction. “It’s a really nice memory.” You looked down at the surface of dark coffee and could have sworn that for a brief moment your reflection looked like a six-year-old version of yourself.

Oh yeah we back AND BRICKED 🧱

*rubbing my hands together like an evil fly*

FINGERS. (meljayvik x reader)

please read! if this finds the right audience, yall may recognize this fic. its because this was posted before a few weeks ago and then suddenly disappeared. i deleted my account cus i lost commitment like a mf. and then one day i came across a post with replies MOURNING the fact i deleted this fic and i kinda felt bad, so here's me reuploading it

(this is LONGER than the original 2 separate parts i posted. this fic has both parts combined in one post, including part three, which i never released, in the end of this post)

warning, this fic IS unfinished. but jayce x reader do get to fuck in the end. if im feeling silly i might just wrap it up on another post if u guys find this

tags: mel x reader, jayce x reader, viktor x reader. scissoring, riding, hate sex, blood but in a sexual way? fingering, cunnilingus, nipple play? no actual foursome with all of them, but..., scene where viktor and jayce watch u make out w mel, jealousy, miscommunication that gets fixed, jayce is an asshole, reader feeds into it, not a lot of mentions of y/n, reader is AFAB, doggy, praise and degredation (idk if this is js me but i LOVE when mfs are mean as hell!!! so the sex scene between jayce n reader may not be 4 everyone)

18k words

-

Enchanting, you were. The youngest female councilor in PIltover. A sight for sore fucking eyes, and Mel Medardas closest friend.

Alone, everyone was calculating your every move, every huff of a breath or flimsy strand of hair. All eyes were on you. How could it not? You were enthralling, completely and utterly captivating. But with Mel, it was as if you two had the world in a sweet hypnosis. A brainwash anyone would sell their soul for.

At any event Mel attended, the rest automatically knew you would be there too. The idea of you came in a pair. Everyone had gotten used to the idea of Mel and Y/N, getting something from one, and expecting something from the other. 

With a long day of discussing material trade with leaders of other regions, your mind had felt heavy in your skull. Talking politics consistently everyday the moment the clock ticks dawn, it only mentally tires you little by little, day by day. Today had been particularly annoying, speaking with the leaders of Noxus, and of course, the one and only Ambessa Medarda.

With her constant demand and pushiness for the native tools of Piltover's sea-gates, the conversation, soon turned into an argument, had lasted a while. Yet, it seemed Ambessa had always had a soft spot for you over her own daughter, which felt unfair and bothersome. You had discussed your feelings about it to Mel, to which she responded with an elegant, unbothered shrug. 

"With a face like yours, I would too."  She grinned, tightening the band around her hair as she yawned. 

You sat up from your spot on her bed. "I'm not sure M. You're her daughter. I'm not. It feels unfair, truly horrible." You tucked a strand of your own hair behind your ear as the blanket slipped off you, revealing a buttoned pajama shirt.

It wasn't uncommon to sleep over in your best friend's room, rotating between each other's rooms and talking until it was required for you both to sleep, considering every tomorrow has something important ready for the two of you.

Mel sighs, turning from the mirror to you. "I'm her daughter, like you said. She expects the most from me, while you're not. So she's never really disappointed with you, since her standards were never grounded for you. Unlike me, Y/N/N. So don't get yourself worked up for it."

Your shoes click against the floors, announcing your presence to the beautifully empty hallways. Surprise surprise, you were on your way to see Mel. 

The meeting had ended and you were held behind by Salo as you watched her leave the meeting, wishing you had left with her. If there was anyone who could understand your irritation and dreadfulness of the day, it would be her.

Turning a corner, you recount the steps to her room you've memorized a thousand times before, hearing unusual faint chatter coming from her bedroom. Getting closer, you see her room slightly open as her mothers voice blends to your hearing. Stopping your approach to her room, you're far enough to see and hear them, but not enough for them to say the same about you.

"You're distracted, girl." Ambessa grabbed her chin and made her lookup as Mel shoved herself out of her grasp, her scowl undeniable.

"Mother," Mel voiced every syllable in the word, her accent present. "Do I look distracted?" She stared her mother down (or rather up, considering their height difference), and you swallowed. Her gaze seemed a blend of anger, hatred, yet somehow mixed with just as much respect for her mother. You couldn't understand it, truly.

"You are sloppy and confused. Yes, child, you are distracted." Ambessa grumbles, taking a step closer to her and making her seem smaller, inferior as she doesn't bother breaking eye contact with her only daughter. 

That statement puzzled you. Mel is possibly the most organized person you have ever had the pleasure of meeting.

Feeling as if you're overstepping a boundary, you twist your heel and begin walking the opposite direction, a feeling of small disappointment churning in your stomach, for you were hoping to talk with her as you stretched your limbs across her soft bed and undid your hair.

Her mother, to you, and possibly even her, will always be a case left open. A case no one can solve, or even bother working on. You suppose you have no choice but to enter your own private corridors, but you didn't want to. You wanted someone to complain to, someone who could understand your impatience with the day.

Besides Mel, no one came to your mind but one. Viktor.

-

"And Salo? Gods, Salo couldn't stop speaking. He just wouldn't shut up, Viktor." You sighed, holding both your shoes by the strings with one hand while the other ran through your scalp, messaging your temple as you did so.

You're pretty sure a few zaps of light and fire just bounced from the corner of your eye, but you couldn't care. You were seated at a neglected workbench with a few nuts and bolts scattered across its flat surface and a stool with a chair made to numb your ass if sat on for too long.

"I thank the gods," Viktor says before pausing, lowering a relatively loud machine down to the scraps of metal, which only had millions of zaps left flying everywhere, his goggles flickering to the light as Jayce stood a few feet away from him, watching his work. "that I wasn't put in a notoriously boring political meeting everyday." He finishes after placing the tool onto the table, taking off his thick gloves.

Jayce gives him a look of mild annoyance, but mostly confusion. "Aren't you going to finish that—"

"You finish it, Jayce." Viktor interrupts as he grasps tightly onto his crutch, making his way to you. "I'm exhausted enough just listening to Y/N's day." He says and you grin at him, catching his honey eyes with yours.

Unlike Mel, who is very keen to keep any relationship in the Academy strictly professional, you had a better time befriending them. But, after a night of too much wine with Mel, she let slip that she had been getting up close and personal with Jayce. Your lips have been sealed shut since, but she made it beyond clear that nothing serious is going on between them.

"Oh, you haven't even heard the half of it, Vik." You say, and he gives you a look. The beauty spot above his lips curve to the expression of his grimace. His thickly arched eyebrows furrow, a bothered look on his face that didn't reach the smile playing on his lips.

"I bet you," He sits himself down in the chair across from yours on the workbench, "that the "half of it" will be a longer rant on Salo."

You don't confirm nor deny, "He just won't get the hint, Viktor." You grumble, reaching down to massage your ankle as you rambled on about your own council, and Noxus's stubborn behavior.

Viktor didn't mind at all. You gave him a break from whatever he's been focusing on, to temporarily indulge into whatever you have been. You had a way of story telling that he was just a fan of, constantly mentioning that if you weren't a politician, you'd be a phenomenal storyteller, or even writer. You never took him seriously, brushing off the comment with a flattered smile.

While Jayce, let out a scoff neither of you heard. His expression was full of irritation as neither of you bothered to notice. He picked up the machine and blocked your voice out of his mind as he began slicing down the slabs of metal, a slight tinge of satisfaction when the screeching noise of the machine would interrupt you.

You never thought much of Jayce. While he thought of you a lot more than you'd expect. But not for the reasons of flattery, more of envy. When he'd think of you, he'd be annoyed. He didn't get why everyone was so fond of you other than your looks. Jayce was aware of your beauty, appreciating it at times when he'd forget how much you'd annoy him. But what he didn't get was why everyone preferred you over him.

He was a better scientist, he'd say. He was now somewhat in the political circle, too, with the announcement of his Hextech invention. Though you've been around longer than him, and still younger than him, he didn't get anything that had to do with you that didn't relate to your beauty.

It had got to a point that Jayce felt like Viktor preferred you over him.

Mel, he could understand. Sure, you two are childhood best friends, whatever. Though it hurt a little bit, he didn't mind. But Viktor? His partner, who so blatantly left their work together to go chat to you about your day?

It had become a routine. 3 times a week, Jayce had memorized, when you couldn't find Mel, you'd find Viktor. You'd pull Viktor away from their work together, Jayce was left being the only one working on it as he was forced to listen about your day yet again.

Jayce looks over at the two of you from his section of the lab, putting the goggles over his head as he watches your face scrunch up to the weight of the story you're telling, your hands flailing in the air as you describe a particularly crazy part of the story you're telling. He darts his eyes to Viktor, who was watching you with intent, his eyes practically gleaming at you as he listened to you.

Gods, he loathed you.

Putting his goggles back over his eyes and rolling his sleeves up, he turned the machine back on as it cut you off once more. A slight smile on his lips as you were quiet, waiting patiently for him to finish so you could continue.

-

Eventually, thankfully, as Jayce would say, you had to go. And Viktor watched you leave with a small smile, replaying your conversation with him that he didn't participate much in besides small comments and facial expressions.

Jayce turned to Viktor, who's been awake for far too long to be considered healthy, his eyebags sunken on his face as he gets up from the chair, spreading his shoulders from his posture and leaning on his crutch as he stands straight. "You planning on helping me out in the lab anytime soon, Viktor?" Jayce asked bitterly as he shoved off the goggles that were resting on his forehead.

Viktor only lets out a sigh, fixing the cuffs around his wrists as he catches Jayce's eyes with his killer ones. "I won't hold your annoyance against you, Jayce. It is only natural when someone you envy ruins your mood. I am heading off to bed, and I assume you will continue your engineering in the forge." He says patiently as he takes a step toward the exit before shooting one last look targeted at Jayce.

"Which is something you had the will to choose instead of staying and listening to our conversation." He spoke lightly, but the point whipping through fast. Jayce furrows his eyebrows. "Listening to what? I spent the entire time doing the work you were supposed to finish." He argued, leaning back onto a heavy table.

"A scientist often times referred to Progress, should have the brain to consider that a man with a cane shouldn't be the one working on the heavy metal and machinery. Jayce, consider the fact that I am not the one you are truly mad at."

With that, Viktor left him alone in the laboratory with a temper that is only rising.

He's right. Jayce thought. It's fucking her.

- 

Viktor had made it to his room a far long while ago. He was twisting and turning but his brain wouldn't shut off, no matter how tired he was.

He had no choice but to stare at the dark ceiling in complete darkness, letting his imagination run wild as he stayed patient for slumber. Every time he'd attempt to solve an equation for the current Hexproject he's working on with Jayce, your face wouldn't suddenly appear in the middle of it all.

He wasn't able to get your expressions out of his mind, you spoke with such passion that he couldn't help but feel that you should be the one presenting speeches, not Heimerdinger. You told a bright vivid story with such little material, he found himself hoping that when Jayce and him were done with their current project, you would be the one to announce it. Not Jayce, not Heimerdinger, and definitely not him.

He turned to his good side, thinking about how next time you come complaining to him, he'll interfere. He'll blabber and chatter with you for once, see what you think of his storytelling. Viktor was fairly quiet and introverted, a trait you adored in him, it made him a great listener, and yet he still felt the need to impress you, which felt foolish.

Viktor felt foolish for having a little baby crush on you. Especially since he was quite sure you were too occupied with Mel to even think of him.

Mel.

How he was sour when it came to Mel Medarda. She's got both you and Jayce wrapped around her little golden-painted fingers. He was no match against her, and he knew it. When you two are in a room together, it's as if you're both glowing. He couldn't compare to Mel's rich melanin body, accented with gold and a radiating energy to her, when he was pale and sickly. Not to mention your body.

Cripple scientist from the Undercity, with eyes on a girl who would never stop for a second to think of him.

He wished he hadn't fallen asleep to that thought.

-

Soft fingers threaded featherily over your cheekbones, sliding down to your jaw before tracing down your neck. The sensation tickled you, blinking your eyes open to see Mel, calculating your face accordingly, with a look of adoration playing on her usually-inexpressive features.

She was laying on your bed, her hair undone and her nightgown wrinkled. You don't remember her coming in last night, but you were more than happy to have her in your bedroom so early on.

"Sorry, did I wake you up?" She mutters, her warm breath fanning your face. You lashes flutter, adjusting yourself as you only slightly sit up, her fingers still softly lining your skin.

"I don't mind." You smile, which Mel visibly melts at, creating a little smile playing on her features too. "You okay?" You wonder, remembering the little instance of seeing her alone with her mother. Her smile slightly falters,

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" Her voice is softly low, but you can see the hesitation behind it. You've known her far too long to be obliviously dumb.

You brush her undone hair behind her ear. "I saw you with your mom yesterday." You admit, seeing no purpose in lying about not seeing them.

She sighs, looking at you with her viridian eyes. "Yeah, my mother pointed out how she saw your shadow." Mel huffs, "Snarky, she is." She adds with a tinge of annoyance, probably recalling the conversation she's had with her.

You're glad you told the truth, since there would be no reason for you to have lied when Mel already knew. "How so? M, what did you two talk about?" You ask, studying her face as you share breaths, voices low considering how early it is.

"Just her disappointment in me, again." She says, closing her eyes as she lays her head on your shoulders. You can tell how much her mother stresses her, even when she isn't present in the room. You lean into her, you head over hers as you touch her arm, feeling the softness of her skin. It was impossible for the two of you to keep your hands to yourselves when you're together.

"She said—" Mel interrupts herself when she realizes how fast she spoke those two words, taking a deep breath. "She says you're distracting me."

Your movement on her arm goes still. That wasn't what you were expecting. You weren't fully expecting to be the topic of discussion when you found them together.

"I don't think so." You say lightly. "We've been with each other since we were still losing baby teeth. She should know we're only better when we're together." You go back to tracing her skin.

She hums, swiftly switching the topic of conversation as she would during a council meeting. "It's still early. I didn't find you when I was done with my mother. What were you up to?"

Your lips quirk upwards at the memory of last night, recalling Viktor making small remarks about his hatred for the council.

"Minus you, Y/N. You're tolerable. Very tolerable. Unlike…"

You cut him off, aware of the mutual dislike between Viktor and Mel. He mentally thanked you, he didn't want to talk about her when he's with you.

"Wait, wait." Mel lifts her head to look at you, stopping you before you could answer. "Were you in the lab? Again?"

You nod, your smile undeniable. Mel doesn't answer, she just looks at you. "You should know this by now, M. When I can't find you, I find Viktor. It's—it's my routine." You decide, considering that it is indeed a routine.

"Okay." She just said, and you frown, sitting fully up now.

"Look, M, I get you don't like Viktor for gods-know what reason, but I do. He's great to talk to." You sheepishly admit, fixing your shirt's hem-neckline more upward for decency not to show anything it's not meant to. Mel's eyes immediately dart there before back up to your face. You two are silent, and she visibly comes to a mental conclusion. You wished you could read her mind.

Laying on her stomach, she lifts her palm to her chin, her elbow holding her up. "He's cute.' She says after quiet seconds pass, almost like it hurts, but in an attempt to relate. "Do you like him?" 

You didn't answer immediately, processing her question. Thinking of his face, his demeanor, his hands. You loved his mind, his understanding, and how he's so much like you but how much he isn't. You liked him, and you'd be lying to not only Mel, but to yourself if you said you didn't.

"You do." She answered for you when you took too long. Mel saw the way your eyes had gone out of focus to ponder her question, your skin flushing as you thought about whatever you had been thinking about.

You nod. You go nonverbal when you're nervous, a habit Mel had gotten used to and definitely didn't go unnoticed now.

She pushed herself off your bed and stretched, not saying anything regarding the fact. "Long day ahead of us, love. I'll get ready here, is that all right?" She says, like your confession was nothing but a small gust of wind, like you hadn't said a word. You nod again, watching her strip out of her nightgown before you had even told her she could.

Getting up to do the same, you both change. Mel hummed like there wasn't a single thing on her mind.

She kept a spare change of clothes in your room from when she stayed over, and vice versa in her room. It was just easier that way.

Rummaging through your own wardrobe, you grab a few items of clothing that you loved on yourself, and so did Mel. She loved everything on you. Hooking your fingers around the bottom of your nightgown and slipping it off, you feel Mel's eyes brush past your figure, her eyes slipping down your legs and your hips, lingering on your chest and the slope of your waist before it was covered.

She goes back to paying attention to her own looks, her mind feeling like mush as she attempts to gather her thoughts.

You swallowed, watching her now that she looked away.

-

Mel kissed his lips, coating him glossy as she kissed her way down his chin, jaw, neck. Her hands cupped the side of Jayce's face as she devoured him. Their chests pressed up against each other as wild breathing and groaning could be heard throughout the empty room.

The grip he had on her naked hips tightened as she pressed  herself down on him, the moment her lips left his skin he caught it back with his mouth, the two slowly kissing the other. He sucked on her lower lip as she licked his, tongues grazed the others as Jayce moaned into her when she took all of him.

Her walls clenched around him as he rutted against her, her whimpering having him lose his mind as he slipped his hands down and gripped her ass. "Takin' me s'good," He grunted. She dipped her head to his shoulder in response, her forehead touching it as she lifted herself up and down against him, shaky breaths that turned into moans leaving her lips.

"Oh gods, Mel." Jayce moans, lifting a hand to cup her breasts and knead them, grazing a thumb over her nipple as she takes him in over and over again, coating him with her liquids.  "Mmm, cah—call me M." She mutters against him, kissing his shoulder before lifting her lips back to his.

Jayce, not thinking straight, moans into her mouth when she clenches around him, taking him faster as he thrusts into her harder. "M."

"Again," She pleads, yelping when she hits a particular spot that shoots with an overwhelming amount of pleasure, chasing that high as she grinds on him harder. "M," He sputtered, their tongues messily dancing against the others, "Feels s'good, M." He praises, gripping her harder, chasing his own orgasm after her and she finally breaks, reaching her peak as she finishes with a loud whimper, releasing and coating him with warmth that drips down his cock when he follows only shortly after.

It wasn't until she was knocked out beside him when Jayce realized he's never called her 'M' in his life, and that there was only one other person who did.

You.

-

After arrangements with the council and a discussion of plans, Mel and Jayce had stalked off together. You had your suspicions on what they were doing, and it seemed Viktor did too. That alone kept the two of you happily occupied.

Something was in the air today, though. After admitting your feelings to Mel only a few minutes prior, and being fully aware of them, you couldn't help but feel different around Viktor. You felt more drawn to him, yet more nervous. Scared, almost. You didn't realize how many doors coming to terms with your feelings had opened. Everything he did left a swift mark on your chest.

Like the way he was tinkering with the trinket in hand, adjusting and readjusting the screws with his lengthy, scrawny fingers as he listened to you talk. 

"I don't think it's a secret anymore." He responds, you watch his mouth and the way his accent rolled off his tongue. "I'm pretty sure all of Piltover's finest know, at this rate." Viktor says, lifting his eyes from the trinket back up to you, catching the way they were searching his lips. You blink away, which was partially hard considering his hunter-gaze, that makes it a challenge.

"They aren't quite slick with it, I'm afraid." You say, lowering your gaze to the knick-knack he's holding instead, which only just has you shift to his hands again. "I wonder what she sees in him. I've had a total of 5 conversations with him, and I'm under the impression that he wants me dead. I'm sure he has a kind heart though."

This makes Viktor chuckle, you feel a sense of accomplishment at the sound, finding a hidden dimple on the side of his cheek. "Jayce has never been able to hide his feelings well. Spending a few years as his partner proves that."

"So he doesn't like me." You coo at the confirmation. He shrugs, "Well, I do. I like you enough to make up for Jayce's dislike. Immature boy." Viktor clicks his tongue, tsking. Your ribcage screws around your heart tighter, perking up slightly.

"I guess I could say the same about you, regarding Mel." You say, picking the side of your nails as you avoided his gaze. You didn't know why you were acting like this. Like a teenager. All you could say was that you haven't been laid in ages. That was your only poor defense.

It's quiet, you could feel him looking at you before the sound of small metal clanking hits the desk. You look up to see the small robotic trinket moving around the table, waddling on what seems to be its legs before turning to you. You watch in awe as the robot shifts inside its copper, its metal moving to the side as it slowly transforms into a mechanical marionette, shaped like a miniature version of you.

You held her, studying it as you see he's gotten the smaller details of your features also correct. You look up to see Viktors Adam's apple bobbing in anticipation and nervousness, scanning your face to see just what you think of it.

You felt unbelieving. You couldn't wrap your mind around the fact that he spent time and effort on you.

"What do you think of it?" He asks, his accent thicker than usual. You've never seen him this nervous, his finger anxiously tapping against the table's flat surface. He was met with silence. Slowly, he watches you place the marionette down and stand up. His heart plummets, feeling like he's crossed the line of a professional relationship. Sure you were getting up to leave, he looked down at his lap, mentally cursing himself over and over, clutching his cane hard.

Confusion rang through him when soft, delicate hands palmed the side of his chiseled jaw and lifted his head to yours, pulling him in a kiss. A sweet kiss where he couldn't fight the urge to kiss you back. You left his lips pink and plump, swiping your tongue over your teeth, savoring every bit of it. A kiss that had the two of you thinking about it all night.

One where you couldn't help but tell Mel.

You and Viktor had to split, though neither of you wanted to. Your heart pumped hard against your chest, leaving him with one last look exchanged between the two of you, you hoped to see him again very, very soon. With him gone and you practically skipping through the hallways to find Mel, you turned a corner where you ran into a foreign chest. A really tall one at that.

There really was only one person like that in the building, being none other than Jayce Talis. "My apologies." You tell him, taking a few steps back as you try to walk around him, to which he quickly grabs your arm before you do so. His large hands wrap around the whole arm, and he uses his strength to push you back to him. You can tell he was trying to deal with you softly, but it seems the two of you have very different definitions of the word.

He smelt of sweat with a sharp bite of hot metal clung to him. His aroma is what got your attention first, before even processing it was him. Bitter traces of chemicals tangled with his scent, underneath it all was the scent of sprayed cologne that had worn out through-out the day, and a soft hint of leather. Blinking up at Jayce,  and attempting to snatch your wrist back with complete failure, you notice a faint trace of vanilla that lingered like an afterthought.

You furrow your eyebrows at him. "Sorry." He sighs, and you want to think he is, but something in his expression told you he isn't sorry for a single thing. You try and push your arm out of his grasp, but he only clutches harder.

"Just," He lets out a breath of impatience, perhaps. Something like that. "Just let me talk to you for a moment."

You recall back to when Viktor blatantly confirmed that Jayce didn't like a mere thing about you. You dart your eyes from his hazel ones down to the hand holding on to. "You make it very hard for me to want to do that with you right now." You say bluntly, he drops your arms from his grasp the moment you utter the sentence.

"Sorry." He repeated again, gritting only slightly as you catch sight of his canine teeth. You just blink at him, a look of mild annoyance as you run a hand over the part of your arm he previously held hardly on to.

"Excuse me." You say patiently as you attempt to excuse yourself and walk around him again, but considering his height and his fairly long legs, he manages to block you from your way again. "I just said I needed to speak with you." He touted, his eyes fluttering shut as his chest rose and fell, clearly trying to contain his temper.

You didn't know who this man was. Jayce was typically the carefree, kind scientist. The golden boy adored by the private and the public. You were never personal with him, but considering your workplace is in the same place as his, and the stories Mel would tell you, he seemed almost naïve. He seemed constantly looking for assurance and praise. He was supposed to be the boy without a temper, so seeing him like this was bizarre.

"I'm sorry, Jayce Talis, but I currently don't wish to speak with you." You tonelessly tell him, speaking oddly formal, signifying your bother with him. He stared down at you with a scowl, an upset yet irritated look playing his features. "But," You start, "I do wish for you to inform me where councilor Medarda is."

That seemed like a bad choice of words. He lifts a hand to lay on your shoulder, which doesn't even fully fit there. It almost seems like a comforting gesture. That was until both his hands were now clutching your shoulders, his grip tightening as he face came close to yours. "What do you want?" His voice low and gravelly, not wavering his eyes from yours.

"From you? Nothing, dear boy." You answer just as quietly, unblinking.

"From them." He hisses. It takes you a second to understand who he was talking about.

"Mel and Viktor?" You mutter, your grin slowly growing. Jayce watches your mouth curve, humoring yourself at him. His chest burned, but he decided to stay quiet, waiting for an explanation. 

"How pathetic." You purred, your tone sharp.

You shove yourself away from his grasp but stayed exactly where he held you. You can see the scandalized detestation on his face, lifting a palm to hold the side of his cheek, studying every part of his face. Much shorter than him, your intense gaze made him feel small, inferior. His jaw clenched, a muscle pushing against your hand. He felt like you could see right through him.

You gazed back to his eyes, deciding you studied him enough. "That is no way to treat a councilor, Talis." You tsk, seeing his eyes flash with a hint of shame, humiliation. "Especially one that holds the power of banishing you from stepping a foot on these grounds again." You brush a soft thumbpad over the peak of his cheekbone. You spoke lovingly, regarding the fact you gave him a very clear threat, one he can't miss.

"You can't." He dares, challenging you as you gave him a look of pity.

"Oh," You pout. Maybe he really was that naïve. "Dear boy, I can."

You tap his cheek with your palm before lifting the skirt of your dress and stalking off, leaving him flustered, angry, and an obvious dent in his pants you didn't notice.

PART 2

He tasted of black coffee, his tongue coated yours as you whimpered into his mouth. Viktor's teeth dug on your upper lip as you sucked on his lower one, his large hands roaming down your body as your back arched, your chest brushing over his, your legs forming a 'W' over him as he sat under you. 

Viktor slipped his large, cold hands under your cloth, feeling you bare as his hands slid softly over the curves of your waist and the spine of your back, feeling you whole as he breathed your scent in. His palms dip to touch the hump of your tits before gripping it. You shakily breathe into his mouth, your jaw slacked temporarily open as he toyed with your chest, thumb grazing over your nipple before pinching it. He took it as an opportunity to lick the the roof of your mouth messily with his tongue, making you kiss him back again.

You hadn't noticed yourself begin rocking back and forth on his bulge over his pants, riding his trouser-covered lap as you pleaded for any kind of friction to pleasure your dripping pussy. He tugs on your clothes with his free hand that isn't under your shirt, humming in annoyance into your mouth before pulling away, a thick string of saliva keeping you both connected.

"Need," He cuts himself off with a small groan at the feel of you rapidly pressing down on him, looking up at him with such pouty, pleading eyes. "Need this off." He tugs on your clothes again.

You shuffle the dress from under your legs and over your ass, Viktor's hands immediately go to grip them hard, leaving a print on your cheeks as you shove the dress from over your body, throwing it to the side of your bedroom floor. "Good girl." He praises, leaning in to kiss you again. While you were ready to eat him alive, he caught you off guard with a wet, short peck on your lips.

He kisses your cheek, down to your jaw, and down your neck. His mouth hovers above your collarbone, his hot breath providing you comfort as your eyes are shut, back arched and waiting for his touch. His grip on your ass held harder, palming your ass wider as he mildly spread them open as he licked your collarbone, sucking a love bite on your skin.

"Viktor." Your voice cracked as his mouth dipped to your breasts. He starts his tongue from the bottom of your breast, sliding it upward as it leaves a trail of spit behind. His tongue meets your nipple and your soft whimpers turn lewd and dirty, his hips bucking upward in response. Planting a kiss on your nipple, he pulls away from you, his hands leaving your ass and softly dragging to your hips.

You open your eyes, your body hot and burning, needy for every part of him. Viktor softly pushes you back on your bed, having you slide off his lap as you laid there, holding yourself up with your elbows as you looked at him. You squeeze your thighs together at the loss of contact, to which he only pries open.

He stares at your pretty underwear. "Such a shame it's all wet and ruined." Viktor blinks up at you, forcing his amber gaze to catch yours. "Do I truly get you this needy, darling?"

You nod, pathetically, desperately. Anything to get him to touch you. "So impatient." He mutters before hooking his fingers on your underwear and shoving it down. He was clearly enjoying himself, staring up at you as he lifted his two fingers to your mouth, making you swallow them with your pretty lips.

You drag your tongue down his long fingers, coating them with saliva and spit, taking more of it as you tighten your mouth around them, having the walls of your mouth gloss his fingers properly. You look down at him, seeing him bite his bottom lip to contain himself, letting out a small whimper. You pull away from his fingers, spit slipping down them and your lips.

"Go on." You order breathlessly, he obliges. He kisses your clit, rubbing his saliva-coated fingers down your folds as he uses his hand to keep your thighs spread apart. He kisses your plush thighs, slipping a finger inside you as you whine at the suddenness.

He swallows you whole, open-mouthed kisses and long wet licks against your folds to your clit. He adds the second finger in, and you moan, shamelessly riding them as you throw your head back.

You had gone so long without a lay, relying only on your fingers as your only form of pleasure that now, with Viktor's fingers now replacing them, you realize just how sad it was. Viktors fingers hit a point in you that you definitely couldn't have reached on your own, fucking yourself on them.

He pulls his mouth back from your pussy, using his thumb to rub your clit as you cry out such pretty, incoherent noises. He looks up at you in adoration, saving the memory in his mind, considering that this might be the most beautiful you might have ever looked.

"Pretty girl, you are." He whispers, sending a shrill up your thighs. The grip on his hair tightens, and he notices an expression on your face he's never seen before. You were close. Viktor dips his head, sucking on your bead, enjoying himself far too much. Your ankles lock around his head, threading your hands farther into his hair.

"You're so good, Viktor. S'good. Mmmf."

A particular stroke of his tongue has you yelp, your hand lifting up to clasp your mouth shut. Viktor repeats the stroke faster, matching the pace of his finger, shoving themselves in and out of you.

You gasp softly, reaching your orgasm as it spills down his fingers. His fingers slow, pulling out of you as he reaches down to lick your folds clean. The grip on his hair loosens and you brush his hair softly.

"Did such a good job taking care of me." You mutter softly, watching him shift.

Viktor moves beside you, looking out for his bad leg as he lays on your bed. "You do the praising I'm meant to tell you." He says, accent heavy on his tongue.

You also move, going to hover over him, straddling his hips as he lays flat on your bed, your pillow under his neck. This place smelt entirely of you, all the way down to the scent of your shampoo on your pillows and sheets. Viktor would say he's in heaven, and a particular someone would agree with him, despite them not agreeing on anything.

You kiss him softly, tenderly. "I can't help needing to make sure you know how much of a good boy you are for me. You say, kissing the moles on his face.

He sucks in a breath, and you remember that only you've reached your orgasm, and he was still painfully hard. He lifts his fingers, still coated with your cum to your mouth. 

That stunt you pulled with your mouth on his fingers was gonna take something more powerful than memory loss to make him forget. But you grab his hands before he could do so, a smirk playing on your lips as you slowly direct them to his mouth

"Enjoy the snack while I take care of you, Viktor." You say. "Poor you," You frown, "putting all the work into making me pleased, I selfishly neglected you." You palm his bulge, and he groans at the sudden contact of your hand after being left untouched for so long.

-

"She's busy." Mel tells Jayce, organizing a folder of files as he stands at the entrance of her office.

"Busy with what? Today is a day off for the two of you." Jayce responds, his eyebrows furrowing as his plans to properly speak with you this time are flushed down the drain.

Mel looks up at him from her desk, "There's no such thing as a day off, Jayce."

He huffs. Mel has begun to see an impatient, angry side of Jayce lately. Which had been weird for not only her, but himself too. "I get you two are protective of each other, or whatever, but I need to talk to her now."

Mel takes her time answering, recalling the memory of walking in on you a Viktor fucking only a mere hour or so ago. So into each other that neither of you noticed her key turning to enter your room, or shutting behind her as a feeling of odd, negative feeling hurled her stomach.

Sure, the two of you were obviously done by now, since Jayce had just been telling Mel on seeing him only a few minutes ago, but she felt weird. Was hurt the word she'd use? No, but it's definitely how she'd felt, if we don't consider how damp the area between her thighs had gotten when she'd left.

"Why do you need to speak with her, Jayce?" Mel decides to ask instead. Jayce stood in front of her, about to hesitantly answer when Mel's office door opened.

You entered, your hair messily down with your clothes hugging your curves beautifully. Mel's eyes narrowed at you. Gods. You pulled sex hair off greatly.

"Sorry I'm late, M." You apologize, a small, almost unnoticeable limp to your steps as you sit at the chair opposite to hers, a desk separating the two of you. Jayce resists the urge to clench his fists at you blatantly ignoring him and walking past him, and very much at the nickname you use for Mel.

"Perfectly all right. I had finished the paperwork myself." Mel says with an oddly positive voice you pick up on.

"Look, I'm sorry." You repeat in a more sincere tone. "It's meant to be a day off, M. I thought we'd be able to do it by around this hour, maybe even by night." Your voice was genuine, speaking nothing but the truth. Jayce studied Mel's body language, seeing something a little off between the two of you. He was almost happy for a moment.

"Yet you have disregarded our plans to finish it much earlier than this. I have done it all myself, thank you Y/N. You may be excused." She ordered, not even looking at you. She spent her time stacking the parchment above the other, using the desks to neatly have the sides of them in line before placing them back in the folders as you stared at her.

You reach your hands to softly graze over hers. "Are you okay, Mel?"

She pulls her hand back, even if it kills her. She loved your touch the most out of anything in the world. "I am perfectly fine."

Jayce, openly ignored, and wildly forgotten about in the corner of he room, was grinning. This fucking guy, was smiling.

No one had ever seen the two of you upset with the other. To Jayce, this was like witnessing an eclipse for the first time.

"Tell me what's wrong." You insisted, refusing to let her gesture upset you, though it did, and she saw that. Mel ignores your plea, stapling the papers together.

"You're acting weird—"

"You may be excused." She says louder, sharper. Mel was aware she was being childish, and frankly hypocritical. So what? She sleeps with Jayce more times than not. What was wrong with you sleeping with Viktor?

Mel was upset you chose Vikor over her.

She watches the hurt flash through your beautiful eyes, taking a second before lifting yourself from your chair and leaving, respecting her wishes. Jayce drops his smile before either of you could see, and you shoot him an angry, accusing look. He turns his head to watch you leave, noticing the faint limp on your legs as his eyes trails back up your body.

The door is softly closed behind you, and Jayce turns back to look at Mel, who's eyes were still watching the door you had just exited through. She's mad at you. Jayce comes to the conclusion.

Mel's eyes darted to the large figure still here. He stood there, studying her, his hands intertwined right in front of his hips.

"She's free now, you've gotten your wish. You may leave, Jayce. "

He didn't need to be told twice. Shooting Mel an apologetic grin she couldn't care about, Jayce leaves the room to catch up to you.

You were already somewhat far down the corridors, your shoes clicking on the ground in a harsh manner. Jayce didn't need to do so much as jog to catch up to you. You see and feel his presence beside you, but you choose to ignore it. He did something.

With a cocky smile playing on his lips, he begins talking. "I was going to—"

"What the fuck did you do?" You spit, refusing to look at him.

He scoffs, offended you would think he was behind all of this, even if he loved it. "What did I do? You're the one she's upset with."

"You did something, Jayce." You insist, passing by doors and turning a corner. He didn't know where you were going, yet he still followed. "Aren't you the one who showed up late? She needed your help with the files yet you neglected her." He said casually, like it wasn't his problem. Which it wasn't.

"Is it because Mel prefers me?" You press, stopping abruptly and turning to face him, consumed with the idea that he's done something. "That Viktor would rather spend his time away from you? Dreaming about the moment he gets to see me?

Jayces grin turned into a scowl, his eyebrows furrowed down. He was easy to irritate, knowing exactly what nerves to pull on. "You're talking out of your ass."

"Oh, but am I?" Your look of disgust said enough. "You're obsessed, Talis. You don't want to believe Viktor had scribbled the wrong answers on the chalkboard just so he could finish quickly and come see me. You don't want to believe that to him, you're nothing but an obstacle in the way."

"You're fucking stupid." He says, lowering his voice, aware that the two of you are publicly arguing in the hallways.

"Was I stupid when Viktor fucked me raw? When I watched him trying to eagerly get away from you to get to me instead?" You hissed, blinded by rage as Jayce watched you step closer to him, his chest falling up and down at your words.

"Or how about when Mel could only ever talk about me when she's with you? You will always hear my name leave her lips, when it's meant to be yours." You kept going, he had to get the hint, if the threat you gave him hadn't worked, then twisting an invisible knife in his chest should.

"Face it, Jayce." You step closer, your faces inches apart as you take in the loathing in his goldenrod eyes.  He had to dip his head to look at you, refusing to step back. "You don't hate me. You wished you were me."

-

A few days had passed. Mel was still avoiding you, she was stupidly aware of her behavior. Her intention wasn't to punish you, but rather herself. She was dumbly upset that you chose him.

The meetings with the council were stiff and awkward. At first, you had tried all in capacity to get her back on your side. Not really knowing why missing plans by a little bit had affected her this much. But her obvious demand for pushing you away was enough. You didn't want to bother her, she clearly didn't want you around. Whatever Mel wanted, you would do for her.

Maybe it was her mother. You considered.  She did have a private conversation with her about how much of a distraction you were. Maybe the brainwashing had worked, and Mel found truth in her mother. You didn't want to believe it.

The time you've spent away from Mel was dreadful, on top of all the council meetings and political conversations without her comfort. The only good thing you got out of it was more time with Viktor.

It was weird. While half your heart was rotting away, the other half was brightly crimson and pumping happily. Viktor had a lot more to offer than you had thought.

He was perfect. You'd end every night with him. Whether it was in your room or his, the night would either end with the sound of skin slapping against skin and passionate kissing, or the chatter and storytelling of the two of you talking until you fell into slumber.

Mel would've said you replaced her.

Jayce had finally got out of your way. You'd pass by him with mutual looks of hatred darted at one another. Or when you'd go to the lab to see Viktor after a long day with Jayce accompanying him, the two of you would ignore the other with looks that kill.

Viktor had caught on, he wasn't dumb.

"It seems like Jayce's dislike has turned mutual." He said, fluttering his eyes closed to the feel of your fingers in his thick hair, massaging his scalp.

"Yeah." You say, "I finally caught on. Safe to say neither of us like the other."

"Mmm." He hums. "Turns out you're just as expressive as he is, passionate too. Maybe the two of you are more alike than you think." He says, yawning at the feel of your fingers.

You wince. "Don't even say that." Viktor just lightly chuckles, sliding a hand under your shirt as the two of you lay there tiredly.

No to mention your long talks about Mel. Whether Viktor liked talking about her or not, he listened to you, and felt that without you two together, nothing was right. The two of you without the other was like a paper without its pen. He had said.

Today, however, Viktor was being taken by Heimerdinger for a long, private conversation. Heimerdinger is offering Viktor the option to choose a peculiar student from the Academy and possibly have them see the process of manufacturing Hextech. You already knew what his answer would be. No. Perhaps Jayce may do it instead.

Despite it all, you were all alone today. You had gone to Mel's room today, needing to get a shirt of yours that was still in her wardrobe.

She hadn't even let you in, she just closed the door on you and went to get the shirt for you herself. Reopening the door and handing it to you.

You had tried to use that excuse to fix whatever happened between you both, but clearly she wasn't buying it. So going to see Mel outside of the council today wasn't an option.

It was hard for you to spend your day without another person, especially when that only person was Jayce.

You really, really didn't want to go see Jayce.

Yet your feet were dragging you to the laboratory. It was either that or the forge. You refused to check on him in the forge. Not today.

Announcing your presence with 2 knocks on its door, you twist its knob open, allowing yourself in.

Jayce stands in front of the black chalkboard, clutching a small piece of white chalk in his hand as he stares up at the equations. He was standing at an angle where you saw mostly his back, and just a slice of the side of his face.

"I thought you wouldn't be done until tonight." Jayce says without turning to look at you, clearly thinking you're Viktor.

"And I thought Viktor didn't knock twice to enter." You say, Jayce whips his head to you, his clutch on the chalk tightening.

"What are you doing here?" He says, annoyance lacing his tone, yet still relaxed enough. "He's still with Heimerdinger." Jayce adds, like it means something. Which it does. You never really come into the lab unless Viktor is there.

But everything has been different lately.

You walk in, touching their current projects softly with the tips of your fingers, holding a few of them. Jayce just watches you, catching on to the fact you weren't here for Viktor.

"Go find Mel, I'm sure she's waiting for you somewhere." He turns to his board, though he lost his track of thought on the equation because of you. He attempts to regain it.

You sigh, "You ruined that for me, remember?"

"Believe what you want. I'm tired of trying to explain that I had no say for how Mel feels about you now, even if it makes me the happiest man in the world." He crosses out a few numbers.

"The happiest man in the world?" You repeat. "So deplorable."

He lets out a breath. "Why are you still here?"

"Well, you successfully turned Mel against me, and Viktor is out. Salo is attempting to get a lay off from me, and Cassandra can't talk to me without mentioning how bad my shooting skills are."

"You suck."

"Fuck you very much."

"So, what? You're here because you're bored?"

"Ding ding ding."

You sit on a workbench, believing it's much more comfortable than whatever those stools are made of. They really did numb your ass. Swear it.

"After how angry you got me, how angry I got you? Gods." He scoffs, turning to look at you, an expression of irritated disbelief.

"At least then I wasn't bored." You consider. He looks at you like you've grown another eye. Jayce turns back, choosing that ignoring your presence would help him out. The sound of scribbling chalk being the only thing heard throughout the lab.

Jayce, the past few days, had only grown to hate you even more. You had successfully stolen his partner from him, and any plan that Viktor made with you, it would ruin his. Not to mention your last conversation together, he was sure he hated you all around. You don't think about him as much as he does of you, but you definitely do think about him more than you had before.

Jayce just being aware of your presence behind him made him angry on its own. You silently watched him, clearing your throat when he'd stop to think. It made him want to hurl the whole board over. It wasn't until the door was opened and the clicking of heels entered. You both mechanically turn at the same time, seeing Mel. Your heart skips a beat, leaping in your chest, getting off the workbench and anxiously watching her approach.

"Chums now, I see." Mel says lightly.

"Quite the opposite." You say, a small chuckle leaving your lips as Jayce gives you an annoyed look and you give him one back.

She doesn't acknowledge you, and your heart cracks. She speaks directly to Jayce. "I've come to inform you that Bolbok is hosting a private event tomorrow evening. It would be greatly appreciated if you showed up."

You mentally sigh, forgetting completely about the party tomorrow. "Yeah, I'll come. It'll be great advertising." Jayce poorly attempts a joke. Neither of you laugh.

"Hah." He murmurs.

"I'll see you then. Come as my date, seeing as Y/N already has hers." She states, and you suddenly feel horrible about everything you've ever done in the world. You stand there, watching dreadfully as Jayce accepts the offer, flattered and blushing. He attempts again at a joke, which was unbelievably bad, and she laughs. You hear her laugh for the first time in days, and you hate that it didn't come from you. She was laughing at Jayce's joke.

You clutch the side of your dress tightly, most likely wrinkling the fabric as she gives him a suggestive look before leaving. Mel looked beautiful, and it was directed all at him.

With her gone, you turned to look at Jayce. Who smiled at the look of hatred plastered across your expression. He turned back to his blackboard. "Something wrong, princess? Suddenly getting a taste of your own medicine?" He spoke up, too confident for your liking.

You knew this was a bad idea. You knew it. You knew you were going to leave furious. You were doing this to yourself.

Although you came here yourself, you begin to leave as if you had been forced to come here in the first place. "Stay the fuck away from me, Jayce." You breathe, aiming all your fury at him.

"Why do you even care? You have your date already." He says, turning to watch you leave.

"Are you dumb, by any chance? Aren't you perfectly aware of the state my relationship with Mel is currently in, because of you?" You twist your torso, your expression a look of mock-bewilderment. 

"Because of me!" He finally breaks, snapping at you as he takes a few steps toward you. "I would love to know where you got that information from, since your clinging to it like a fucking pacifier, Y/N."

"Don't act stupid, Jayce." You walk up to him, closing the distance between you two. "You're the one who's hated me since the beginning, wishing you were me. I noticed your excitement the very first time she treated me like shit. Gods, you were livid."

"Or," He spoke, jaw clenching, "she finally noticed how you're not worth it anymore." He said, lowly, differing the contrast between both your voices. Jayce raises a hand to your shoulder, and you think he's going to pull the same act he did the first time he interrogated you. Instead, his touch is soft, sliding slowly up your neck as you hold the weight of his eyes, sharing a look of mutual disgust.

His hands cup your jaw, a thumb brushing your cheek before traveling to your nape, bunching up your hair with his large hands. "What if she's finally noticed you're nothing but a pretty face." He pulls your hair down harshly, a small groan leaving your lips at the suddenness, cranking your neck to fully face him.

"If I fucked over your friendship with Mel," He stares you down, sharing breathes with you as the grip he had on your hair began to hurt your scalp. "Trust me, I'd be telling the whole fucking world."

"My threat still stands." You choke, voice breaking as he leaned closer to you. The loathing in his eyes was inexcusable, a mutual feature you shared. You watched his eyes flutter closed, tilting your pupils as you watched his head dunk lower. His breath was hot, fanning your wildly exposed neck as he brought his soft lips to press against your skin. A sharp trail of chills coating your body, his lips warm on your skin. The grip on your hair was gone, his hands dropped to his side as he approached his blackboard once more, his back to you as you made eye contact with his broad shoulders.

"Get the fuck out of my lab" He said, like the last few seconds hadn't existed in the universe. You stared at him, just as angry as you were seconds ago, but with confusion and emotion hurling in your body. Convinced you were imagining it all, the feel of Jayce's lips still on your neck, very intensely lingering, you sneered. "With pleasure."

-

The party was packed, especially for a private one. The elite of Piltover and even the elite of other countries came flooding in. Everyone dressed head to toe in riches and glamour, you were no exception. It took Viktor almost an hour to pry himself off of you before the party started, and since the man was no superfan of PDA, he had no choice but to hold himself for the night.

He looked like a snack. His hair was beautifully tasseled in the messy manner he prefers, his suit was a dull black, with a vest dark crimson that barely made a difference, his button up shirt just as dark and dull as both, the first few buttons left open to peek at his collarbones. His crutch was almost even decorative, matching his outfit perfectly. No one would take him for someone who didn't want to be here in the first place. Which he didn't. He only came for you.

You held your glass of wine and stared at him, wishing you were exclusive. Gods, was it hard for you to keep yourself off him too.

"Let's leave." Viktor insisted, eyeing you in your beautifully fit dress.

"We just got here." You say, sipping from your drink as you honestly wished you could leave, too. "I don't care, I want you all for myself. That's not too selfish, is it?" He moves closer to you, and you breathe his scent in, he smelt heavenly.

"Not selfish enough, I'm afraid." You bring the glass that was just on your lips to his. He takes a long, swift drink from it as a rich comes up to you.

"You look phenomenal this evening, Y/L/N." He praises, brushing back his thin hair. "How about a dance?" He offers the hand he had just used. You stare down at it, as does Viktor, burning a mental hole through it.

You blink back up at the middle-aged man, with a daughter your age also attending this party. "I'm afraid not today." You turn down, not bothering to offer him an apologetic smile.

The man uses the hand to smooth down his suit. "Why–why of course. No worries. Perhaps you can tell me where councilor Medarda is?" He stutters, attempting to ask instead. Of course, wherever you go, people just assume Mel is trailing somewhere not far behind. Surprising the man, you give him an unbothered shrug.

He takes your nonverbal answer and leaves. Viktor lets out a sigh, handing you the glass to finish. "You're aware this is the third person you've had to turn down? And the party's only just started." Viktor mentions, and you sigh right along, drinking from the glass.

You didn't need to say much, because Viktor fully understood. Lifting your gaze to the entrance, you see Mel and Jayce walking in. You take her all in, your clasp around the glass only tightening. She looked breathtaking, her dress black and the golden accents on her body popping. You longed for her back, right then and there for the millionth time. You lift your eyes to find her capturing them, holding your gaze, she slowly drifts her gaze lower, taking all of you in before you both switch your gazes to your dates.

As Viktor and Mel study one another, your eyes lock in with Jayce's. You definitely didn't forget about the misfortune about yesterday, when you left his lab with your body on fire. Both literally and figuratively. You had to peel your clothes off your body and you turned your shower on immediately, even then your mind not leaving the thought of him alone. Even now, the next day, just looking at him made you feel the linger of his lips on your neck.

Almost the same could be said about him. When you left, he stared at the blur of an equation until he couldn't ignore it anymore, palming his crotch through his pants as he almost silently moaned, leaving for his apartment as soon as Viktor arrived.

It was safe to say he looked as good as Viktor, his hair brushed back as a few messy strands leaned the other way, brushing his forehead. His suit was a dark navy, almost non-existent blue, tied with his white button up and belt with a golden buckle that matched perfectly with Mel.

You had to say, they looked amazing together, and you hated it. Imagining yourself in Jayce's shoes, you come to the conclusion that you'd look better with her. Not disregarding the fact that Viktor and you looked almost powerful when together.

"I hate them." You decide under your breath. Viktor smiled.

"You know that'll never truly be the case."

You both watched her greet everyone, Jayce right beside her like a dog, greeting everyone with her. You couldn't peel your eyes off her, and Viktor noticed. He slid a hand on your back. You leaned into him for comfort. "She looks beautiful." Viktor says, not even looking at her, but at you.

"She does."

Time ticks and you're forced into conversations and offers you wished you weren't. You hadn't noticed when Jayce peeled himself from Mel's side and approached the two of you. He eyed the hand on your waist before falling into conversation with Viktor. You heard him talk, completely and utterly ignoring you. Which doesn't say much, since you're ignoring him too, forcing yourself to look past him and watch whatever.

Of course, your sight only takes you to Mel. To your surprise, she was already looking at you. You blinked at one another. Your heart ached to see her, to be near her and just talk to her. You wanted to touch her and feel her and smell her. You've gone too long without her, and you're praying she feels the same.

When Jayce leaves for Mel again, the party moves forward, and Viktor and you have come to the agreement that neither of you are dancing. Bonding over your wanting to leave and your inability to dance, you decide that facing each other is best.

"Go talk to her." He says, out of seemingly nowhere. But somehow you were expecting it, already knowing what he's talking about. 

"So I've tried." You sigh.

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. "I'm not talking about previously. I'm talking about now, today. Talk to her, Y/N."

You want to listen, you truly do. But you can't. She's made it clear enough she wants nothing to do with you, even if it hurts and confuses you.

You stare up at Viktor, drowning in his amber eyes as you both lean. Comforted by his scent, you were about to consume yourself with his lips on yours before a throat being cleared interrupts you both, pulling away from each other. You turn to see Mel, the closest she's been to you the past few days, gazing at you and Viktor.

"How about a word in private, please?" She speaks, her voice sweet and your knees almost buckle right there. Your eyes dart from her to Jayce, he towers right behind her, like he doesn't have a mind of his own and does whatever she says. It's as if he could hear your thoughts, for his gaze hardens when you catch his eyes.

Caught off guard as anxiousness shoots through you, you try not to stutter, excited with the idea of Mel wanting to talk to you again.

Viktor squeezes your waist before letting go of it, silently urging you to go on. "Oh, uh." You swallow. "Yeah. Sure," You look at her again, as if scared she's magically disappeared before turning to look at Viktor. "He may come too." She assures. To which forms a confused look on Viktor's face.

"Great." You say, masking your voice to be cool, calm, and collected.

You follow her out of the party and out of the corridors. You walked in silence as the two boys trailed a little farther behind, chatting. You don't bother asking where you're going or what you're doing. You have only one statement to say.

"I missed you." You muttered, your voice cracking as you blinked ahead, continuing to walk as her head turned to look at you. You couldn't bring it in yourself to look at her. She turned her head to look back to wherever you're going.

"Gods, Y/N." Mel whispers as you begin to realize you're heading in the direction of her office. "I said I was gonna do this professionally." She voiced under her breath, fighting a mental war. "You're killing me."

Now, you couldn't help but look at her, but you were too late. You've already reached her office and she was quick to open her door for it, letting you, Jayce, and Viktor in.

Entering, Jayce comfortably sits on Mel's small sofa on the side of her office. While Viktor is first to talk. "What's all this for?" He asks, not exactly bothering to be nice to Mel, with how sad she's made you.

She gestures for you to sit on her small sofa, and you do, staring up at her as you feel Jayce's body heat radiating off him.

"Well, Jayce had spoken with me beforehand," She began, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. Here we go. "and he convinced me that you," Mel looks at you directly, moving closer to you, "deserved none of this."

Your breath is caught in your throat, swallowing it down as you hold her gaze. She was so close, and so beautiful. She held your face with her hand, tilting your chin up to stare up at her. "I was dramatic, and angry." She tried to explain, her voice quieter, not speaking to the room, but to you. "I thought you had chosen Viktor, and that was it. I believed you made your choice so, so be it." The warmth of her hands leaves your face. You're barely processing what you're hearing.

Viktor perks up from the spot he's standing at with his name being mentioned, watching this scene play out with such attentiveness. "The way I dealt with the manner was childish." She admits, sitting by Jayce, who was now separating the two of you from sitting directly next to each other. "Jayce was right, and for that I'm sorry, Y/N." She finally says.

You were silent, turning to look at Jayce, who was so close to you now. The asshole gives you a petty shrug, his look of 'I-told-you-so' expressive. He's done you a favor, yet he still pissed you off. You look away from him before you could feel yourself getting annoyed.

You blink back at Mel, who is visibly so nervous, mentally begging for you to say something. She can only keep her composure for so long.

Deciding to completely ignore Jayce's presence, you lean over him. "You can stab me a hundred times, give me a million wounds, and I will come crawling back to you every time. No matter what, Mel." You say to her, and she copies your actions, lifting her knees to fold under her as she kneels over Jayce.

"I missed you, Y/N. I'm sorry." She pleads, darting her eyes from your mouth to your eyes, she was ready to melt into you.

You were both seated beside Jayce, yet your upper bodies and faces were right above him. He watches you guys as you two lean closer together. "I forgive you. And for the times again, and again, after this." You assure her, blinking over her shoulder at Viktor. Who nodded, a small smile musing his lip, 'Do it.' he mouthed. 

You filled in the distance between you, capturing her lips with yours, and she was quick to hold your face, kissing you back, harder and deprived, needier. You pull away, looking at her and gasping slightly, savoring her before slamming your lips back to hers. She makes a hum in your mouth when your tongue opens it. The kiss was messy and utterly wet. The two of you were away from each other for too long, some may say not that long, but it was long enough for you both to have you reunite like this.

Mel's hands tangle around your hair, unconsciously pulling it as she's completely consumed by your mouth. You lose balance, holding your position long enough before dropping your hand on Jayce's lap to hold you up. He sucks in a breath, the scene before him hard not to affect a human through a screen. Let alone up close, above him. Two of the most beautiful girls in Piltover making out right above him? He adored one, and loathed the other.

So enthralled with each other, you crawl over Jayce, insisting to get Mel closer, needing to feel her body on yours. He believed that you were going beyond heights to ignore him. You kick your shoes off, and so does she, laying on her back as your knees hover past his lap. He watches you arch your back, moaning into Mel's mouth. Jayce was borderline panicking, looking up to look for Viktor.

Viktor watches the two of you. It was like watching two goddesses together, he envied Jayce for getting the V.I.P seats. He darts his eyes to Jayce, who's own eyes were wide, the scene before him so much for a big guy like him.

Viktor gives him a look, saying 'We-should-leave-them-have-this-moment'.

How does he get out of here? You had him trapped, not that he minded, but Viktor was right, as much as he wanted to stay and watch. Viktor can see the mental struggle of Jayce trying to figure out how to leave without taking you out of the mood. Your knees between both his thighs as your feet rested on his farther one, your back curved over the other as you kissed Mel's neck.

Looking back at Viktor for help, he quietly said "Touch her." Both you and Mel could hear him, but you two were in your own little world to even notice, let alone care.

Jayce trusted Viktor for better judgement, after all, he would indeed hear you two fucking every time he'd walk past your doors late at night. Viktor should be an expert on how to not get you out of the mood as you make-out with your best friend. He should be?

Right.

Jayce lifts a large hand on the slope of your back, dragging it slowly down your waist and to your ass as he feels your skin over the thin material of your dress. "Taking care of her so well." He praises, even if he wishes he never did, lifting another hand to softly graze your waist before lightly gripping it. He watched the way you made her lose focus, her eyes rutting to the back of her head. You knew how to please her, and so did he. He never thought the two of you would have something in common. He wished you didn't

"She's moaning your name, Y/N. Do you hear that? 'Must be pleasing her so well." He leans to whisper in your ear, and you sigh to the feeling of Mel's knee digging inside your dress and between your legs, riding it as you feel Jayce's hands take up so much space on your hips. He slightly moves you, shifting under you as you're placed right back where you were, just with him gone from under it. He's standing up now, letting go of the grip on your hips by releasing it and having his palm slightly drag past your ass.

He can't look away, he just can't. Neither can Viktor, their eyes glued to both of you until they finally make it out, the last thing they see was both of you shoving yourselves out of your uncomfortable dresses.

Jayce does the punishment of closing the door on you both while Viktor couldn't bring himself to do it, and the two turn to look at one another. Both Viktor and Jayce release a sigh. "Let's quickly take care of ourselves before returning to the party. Can't let anyone be suspicious."

Viktor considers Jayce's words, not without a grimace though. He would more rather be in there with the two of you than at that fancy, lame party. Jayce couldn't help but agree wordlessly.

Meanwhile, you rode her knee like there was no tomorrow, naked and skin to skin, you licked your fingers and pressed them against her clit, your manicured-painted hands rubbing her pussy as you swashed saliva. You two kept pulling your mouths away from each other for air, but attaching it again after barely a second, unable to get enough from each other.

She moaned out your name as you almost harshly fingered her, sloshing your fingers up and down her pussy as you suddenly shoved them in her. "Serves you right, M." You mumbled shakily, dragging your tongue behind her ear, sucking and biting and kissing. All of it, you were doing. She pushes her knee farther against you in response, having you squeal.

You reposition yourself, straddling her thigh as you lowered your tongue down her body, reaching her stomach as you reached your hand to mold her breasts, dealing with them delicately as she arched her back to you. You watch your fingers slam in and out of her as she gasps, taking them completely out right as she's about to cum. She whines.

"Not just yet, M." You say, sitting up as the fingers you were previously using were hovering over her clit. You make her look into your eyes as you arch your back down to your hips. She slowly feels your pussy come in contact with hers, your leg sliding below her thigh as the other one stays over Mel's other thigh. You grind against her, and the feeling is beyond overwhelming, you both sputter out moans. You tenderly rub her clit as she motions her hips to grind further into you.

"So… good." She whimpers, half of it muffled because she shoved the side of her face into the sofa's cushioning.

"As good as you imagined? As good as you dreamed of?" You groan, picking up the speed in which you apply more friction to her pussy with your own, her moans growing louder. "Huh, M?"

"Better… better." Her tits brush up against yours as you lean over her, that's how much her back was arched and your speed was getting. Mel pushed herself against you rapidly, finding her soft spot and using you to reach it over and over. It wasn't until both your thighs were stickily plastered with liquids on each other did you slow down.

You both catch your breaths, stealing a moment of silence from each other. You give her tits another peck from your lips, and her eyes follow every move you pull. "I'm sorry."

"Mel, I forgave you long before I even entered this room. Drop it." You softly chuckle, going to kiss her lips again, which she takes advantage of. Holding your lips with hers for a while, savoring every bit of it before pulling back.

-

You felt on top of the world, that's for sure. You got two of the best ever, hypothetically seated right there on both your legs. 

If you were being honest, there was only one man you could thank for that, and you really, really didn't want to. A few weeks or less has passed since the day of the party Bolbok hosted, the day Mel wanted you back. Oh, what a lovely day that was.

It puts you where you are today, right between Viktor and Mel, on your bed, half naked. You were thrilled. They had begun to tolerate each other because of you, and it's been great. Of course, Mel has still been sleeping with Jayce as you have been with Viktor. But you were her little guilty pleasure, vice versa.

Sometimes, just like when Mel would wake up and find Viktor on your bed, you'd wake up in her room and find Jayce. Every time you look at him, whether in professional settings or not, you would always think 'This fucking guy.' 

Whether positive or negative, it was always 'This fucking guy.'

Today, however, was located in your bed, so no Jayce. You and Mel had woken up together, changing and talking, still keeping your voices down not to wake Viktor. Who shifted around in your bed and lazily blinked his eyes open, watching the two of you dress. The two of you barely notice, leaving the room as Viktor falls back asleep. He wakes up later than you two, but not too far from now.

You were sort of like Switzerland for Mel and Viktor, still disliking each other, but not as much as before. They didn't mind the others' presence, and you wouldn't mind if they kissed. This is a topic you bring up to them a lot. It would be really cool if they kissed. They just kind of pretend like they didn't hear you.

When the two of you approached the council, a good chunk of it was missing. When asked where everyone was, the remaining said that they had other important plans, so today was going to be a day off. However, councilor Shoola took Mel to the side and requested a private talk from her.

Just like many days before, you knocked on the laboratory door and opened it. Finding it empty. This time, you weren't going to find Jayce on your own free will, you were carrying a word from Hoskel to him. So you kind of have to find him.

The only other place you could think of was the forge, oh gods, the forge. You just couldn't do it. You weren't ready to enter it and immediately get sweaty and hot, trying to gather your thoughts as the heat turned your brain to mush. Also you couldn't face Jayce shirtless and oily. But you refused to even think about that.

You needed to stall. Where else could he be? You thought in the empty lab, slightly embarrassed it took you this long to consider his bedroom. You've never been there, but you knew where it was from the help of Mel a little while ago. You try to recall your steps as you search for his room.

Squeezing your brain dry, you try to remember if you made a right or a left to get to his little apartment. Turns out it was left, needing to go back after not finding it. Standing in front of his door, you knock twice. You wait a few, long seconds, grumbling before you reach your hand and twist it around the knob, the door being shoved open before you're able to do it yourself. 

You're met with Jayce and bedridden hair, messily sprayed across his forehead. He blinks down at you, tiredly yawning before shutting the door on your face. You scoff, "What the fuck?" blinking at the sight of the blank door for a second. "Open the door, Jayce." You say in a slightly loud voice.

"Stop opening the door before you're allowed in." He calls from directly behind it, the slab of wood being the only thing between you both. You genuinely roll your eyes this time.

"Gods, Talis. Open the door, you don't even have to let me in." You say, your idea of a negotiation. Jayce rubs his eyes behind the door, listening to your attempt at getting what you want so easily, something he hated. So, he decided to make you do the one thing he knew would hurt you.

"Say please."

This fucking guy.

He didn't think you'd actually do it, half expecting you to just walk away from the door, being his goal in the end. But when he hears you suck in an annoyed breath, he's fully awake now. "Please."

He was definitely not letting this fly past so easily, he had you right where he wanted you, and he wasn't going to let it go so quickly. "Please, what?"

You shut your eyes as your heart-rate picks up, attempting to hold your anger as you decided to be the bigger person. Slowly opening your mouth, your tongue forms the syllables. "Please, Jayce."

The door was twisted open, you pushed it open as you watched him approach his wardrobe, his back to you. You took a few steps inside. 

"Fuck you." You say, watching him wrap his fingers around the bottom of his wrinkled shirt.

"Thank you, you mean." He corrects, taking it off as you stare at his back, memorizing the amount of muscles he has.

"For what? I'm here to deliver you a message from Hoskel—"

"I did you a favor." Jayce cuts you off, turning to his side to get a good look at you, his expression furrowed, his eyes squinting in annoyance. It was obvious what he was talking about, and you couldn't tiptoe around it, shamelessly eyeing his shirtless torso.

"Is that what you're calling it now? Why are you still thinking about it?" You click your tongue, forcing your eyes to tear away from his biceps and to his face.

"Excuse me?" He starts, his voice still grumbly from being asleep. "Mel would have never forgiven you if it weren't for me. I convinced her to take you into that room and apologize. If it weren't for me, you would have never fucked her that night." He spit, taking off his sweats as he changed into his uniform ones. You tried to stay modest and look away, but you couldn't, just from his underwear, you could tell he was packing.

You stepped closer to him, but not too close. A habit the two of you did a lot when you were left alone together. "Do you always lie, Talis?" You wonder out loud, a tinge of satisfaction coating your chest at the look of offense on his face, calling him a liar. "I vividly remember your insults, you saying she realized my worth, that I'm nothing but a pretty face." You revise, telling him as he listens to you talk, nodding his head to everything you recalled. "All while convincing her to win me back? It all felt so real, Jayce."

"I couldn't stand your fucking whining anymore. If it makes you feel any better," He zips his pants up, you watch him do so. He sees your eyes linger down there before looking back up at him. "I meant every word.

"I thought you said I was stealing her from you?" You curve an eyebrow, "You complain and harass me, and then hand her right to me in the end." You state, he watches you look up to his ceiling as you pretend to remember. He doesn't say anything. You continue. "Now I've stolen your lab partner and your girlfriend, what next?" You ask, leaving the question to linger in the air for a moment. "You?"

He snorts. "See, that actually takes some effort" He reaches to grab his usual brown button-up, slipping it through an arm as you sighed, walking around his room, studying the place. He watched you, unsure where you're getting at. Even more unsure why he hasn't asked you to leave yet.

"Your problem, Jayce," You start softly, running your hand down his messy bed sheets, "is that you don't see that I've won you over long before I have ever won Viktor." You murmured, fixing his sheets after feeling them.  "You've been obsessed."

"Obsessed? Your confidence is unsettling. I merely disliked you, you don't matter to me as much as you think you do." You didn't believe a single word, and you don't think he does either. You force his eyes to catch yours. 

"Again with the lying, Jayce. When will it stop?"

"What do you want? To piss me off like you do all the fucking time already? Sorry, princess, I have other plans today." Jayce says, buttoning the first few buttons on the bottom together, watching you clean up his bed, keeping yourself occupied. The silence in the room was palpable, horribly thick.

"What do you want?" He repeats himself, not bothering to even wear an angry expression like you'd expect, he just waited for your answer.

"Nothing." You finally decide, you're wasting your time. Turning your back on him, you start reaching for the exit of his room. "Hoskel only wanted me to tell you about his—"

Jayce grabs your arm. "Oh my gods. Fuck Hoskel. I don't couldn't care less. What do you want?"

PART 3

You eyed the hand wrapped around your arm, lifting your eyes to his. "You like grabbing me a lot." You state, drifting your gaze to his unbuttoned chest. You hated him, he was a jealous asshole. A prick. But speaking to Mel privately, and getting her to forgive you had you dislike him a little less. You dreaded him for it.

You hated him, making you like him even just a centimeter more than before. You blamed it all on him, the good and the bad, it was all his fault even if it wasn't. You couldn't imagine yourself feeling a kind, nice instinct toward Jayce. The emotions the two have built your relationship on was far from positive adjectives like kind or nice.

He's never bothered to show you any form of patience or sweetness, so why should things change up now? Just because he put in a good word for you, doesn't mean you necessarily wanted to treat him like how Viktor perhaps would. Jayce wasn't your pal. You weren't planning on making him one, either.

You were used to what you both established, none of that lovey dovey sappy shit. What the two of you had was not built off a slow burn lie, a friendship blossoming. It was built with complete raw and exhilarating passion. Passionate fucking anger.

You didn't want to change that.

"What do you want?" Jayce repeats, the grip on your arm telling you a whole different story than the one on his face. You were reminded of when he first snapped with you. You weren't fully aware of his loathing to you until that night, after you'd kissed Viktor for the very first time, only wanting to tell Mel about it. He'd grabbed you by the arm, and you left him with a threat. You look back at the memory fondly. Now, it was almost the same. HIs grip was angry, but his eyes were pleading. He looked like a little boy, mentally urging you to say what he wants to hear.

This is the first time you'd ever seen an expression like that on his face. "Not a thing, Jayce. I have everything I could ever want." You answer, saying the sentence slowly, like he were a child being repeated a question on a pop quiz.

"Really?" He asks, his eyes narrowing and his hand slowly leaving your arm. "You're finally full?"

You stare up at him as all your senses fly to the side of your arm, right where he had held it as you considered his question. "What?"

He buttons up his shirt, covering up his chest as he looks at you like how the arrogant elite would at a beggar. "You kept biting off more than you can chew, and when you've finally swallowed it all down, you don't bother cleaning your plate."

You were confused, trying to roam your mind for everything this could apply to, going down to the basics. Jayce despises you because he was jealous, something you both came to the conclusion of. You manage to pry Mel and Viktor from his palm and into your own, that was the center goal on why he disliked you so much. So what was he saying? You bit off more than you could chew.

"Are you saying I'm out of their league, Jayce?" You inquire, not needing to mention their names for him to understand. "Like I planned it, because it was just so hard?" You watch him button up the very last button of his shirt, reaching the start of his neck. You weren't a fan of the look, reaching your own hand to slowly button it back down. To your surprise, he didn't stop you. "Let me remind you," You spoke softly, he watched your mouth, the way your tongue peaks out when you pronounce the 'L'. "Mel and Viktor came running to me the very moment they were allowed to."

"Your ego baffles me." Jayce spoke, watching you unbutton his shirt all the way down. "Do I truly have to mention how Mel still sinks on my cock like there's no tomorrow? Or how Viktor is still my partner, Y/N? Spending more hours in the day with me than with you." You run your hand down his chest, feeling it from the start of your fingers down the palm of your hands. His skin was hot and carved perfectly to your touch.

"That's your problem, Y/N." He murmurs to you, "You always talk about them like they're yours, but you forget who even started it all. Notice how you only paid attention to the first part of that sentence? You completely missed my point, and that just shows what kind of person you are."

You move your attention from his chest to his face. "You love pretending like you're smart. Like you've got me all figured out just because you did me a favour once. You will never get to know anything about me beside the fact I fucked your girlfriend and your lab partner with ease."

Jayce feels your hand softly slide from his chest to his shoulder, slipping the dress shirt off him. "You're a cocky whore." His mouth twitches, and your grin spreads. 

"And, what? You're not?" You hold the shirt up, smelling it as you locked eyes with him. It smelt like it had just come from the laundry, yet a faint scent of leather and vanilla wafts in your nose. You throw his shirt onto the bed behind him.

He ignores you, using his large hands to move your hair from your shoulders to expose that area, his fingertips brushing over your collarbones and to the section connecting your neck and shoulders. "So greedy, you are." Jayce tells you, using his hands to gently move the strap of your dress down. 

You eye his mouth. "It must feel good. Being the golden boy of Piltover, man of Progress." You praise as you watch his exposed chest fall up and down. "Yet still a little bitch behind the scenes." You rip any sort of flattery away, and his jaw ticks.

"Cute. Particularly ironic coming from the biggest slut in the council."

"What? Sad that only Mel and Viktor are getting all the action while you're left behind?"

"I want nothing to do with you." He spits, flashing you those teeth again. You can't help it, you push him onto his bed as you catch his mouth with yours.

To your surprise, he clutches a hand onto your hips immediately, kissing you as soon as you come in contact with him. The kiss hurt. It was messy, the way your tongues were immediately invading each other's personal space. More than messy, it was hard. He had a hand on your hips, holding you hard enough to bruise as his other hand was half on your jaw, and half tangled in your hair, tugging on it. 

You straddled his waist as both your hands held his face, trying to draw blood from his mouth. Jayce, completely aware of your intentions, groans into your mouth as he attempts to do the same to you. "I fucking hate you." You cried against his lips as a metallic taste of coins entered your mouth. Neither of you were sure who it belonged to, yet still kissed each other against it. 

"You don't mean it." He says, you pull away from him. Opening your eyes, you see the corner of his lips protruding with a hint of crimson. From his point of view, blood was splattered all inside your mouth, and slowly, you smiled. He caught sight of your fangs and he pressed against the walls of his mouth with his tongue, somewhere along where the front of his teeth were, he felt the flesh ripped and his tongue be met with more of the metallic taste. "Fucking bitch."

"I guess you can see just how much I mean it, don't you?" You grinned, sitting up on his waist. In a sudden movement, he grabbed the back of your nape and pushed your face into his in a kiss. Both your hands threw themselves around his head as one gripped his bedridden hair tightly. His other hand that wasn't keeping you in place bunched up your dress all the way up to your ass. He managed to move you in a position where he was on top now.

Jayce's teeth pulled on the side of your mouth, he wouldn't stop until  he drew blood too. "Come on, you could do better than tha—" He shut you up by pulling the flesh on your lips, which was now bleeding.

"Better than what?" He challenges and you narrow your eyes at him. Your eyes squinting into a glare as you're folding your bottom lip into your mouth, licking the new wound on your lips.

Your lips just meet again, grunts and groans leaving both your lips as Jayce squeezes your plush ass harshly. Your legs go to wrap around his naked torso as he drags his mouth down, his teeth sinking onto your neck as you feel him mark you with hickeys. You push your head further into the pillow behind your head as your neck felt like it was on fire. You tug on his hair harder, moaning as you wished you didn't. You couldn't fuel his ego like this.

"You always take this long to suck ah, a hickey, Tah..lis?" 

"You sound fucking pathetic right now." Jayce says, pulling his mouth away from where it was before licking it softly with his warm tongue, a big gentle contrast to how harshly he was devouring your neck and collarbones. "Shut the fuck up." He attaches his mouth to your bloody lip as he very unkindly shoved your dress off you. You were almost naked now, minus the lace panties that sunk between your ass and the thin matching pair that hugged your breasts with little to no decency.

They were practically useless, didn't do much to cover you as the lace did nothing but decorate your tits with its pattern. "You always wear a set like this? Hoping the next, lucky guy gets to unwrap it off you like a present, slut?"

"Mmmm." You hum, your eyes closed as he peels the bra off you. "Lucky guy? I'm flattered." You flutter your eyes back open to see him staring at you. You peck the tip of his nose with your bloody mouth.

"You're unbelievable. Completely revolting." He mutters, and you pout. "Doesn't seem like I'm that revolting, with your hands around my tits like they're about to run away."

"Gods, shut up." He practically begs, flipping you to your stomach. You forget Jayce's height and strength isn't just for show, he's genuinely really strong. He does it all so easily you barely have time to process before your head is pressed against the pillow, a small groan leaving your lips.

"You finally gonna fuck me, Talis?" You coo, using your knees and elbows to lift yourself up as you look back at him.

He cocks his head to the side, almost like a dog as he hooks a finger around the side of your underwear, feeling the material between his fingers before letting it snap back to your hips. "I need to find a way to shut you up, don't I?"

"Hurry up, then." You huff, "Or are you gonna keep feeling the underwear I put on for Viktor the whole time?"

His large hand presses your head down to the pillow again, pressing the side of your face against it as he slowly brings his mouth close to your ears. "Don't talk about him when you're with me, yeah?" His tone was condescending, practically almost threatening. You can't help but smile. All of Runeterra could be against him, but only you could rile him up like this.

"You're just so slow." You say boringly, despite your grin. All that was left was a yawn. But Jayce was already beyond ticked off, shoving the underwear down to your thighs as he gripped your ass harshley.  "Needy, arrogant girl." You could hear him bare his teeth as he held your head down.

You felt him behind you, lining himself at your entrance as your breath hitches. He gives you no time to brace before he slams into you, and you cry out a moan, his size a shock to you, spreading you as you instinctively clench around him. The side of your head pressed against your pillow as you tried to keep yourself from losing control over your knees holding you up.  "Looks like that shut you up." He breathes, slowly moving his hips against you.

Your chest burned with annoyance. "I just can't get him out of my head." You say, knowing exactly how to tick him off. His pace picks up faster, his hands gripping both sides of your waist. "I was…" You interrupt yourself at the sensation of him picking up his speed. "I was so ready to see him to..tuh-day." You kept going, his movements growing rigid and sloppy, yet only faster.

"Am I just a distraction in your way, huh?" He groans, grabbing your hair and pulling it up, your neck pops up as you stare at the walls. Your eyes flutter shut and you biting onto your bottom lip, fucking yourself back to him, following his gestures as you took all of him in, your ass slapping against his skin.

"Now you're catching on." You sigh as he's shoved in and out of you, the sounds of sin being heard throughout the room and it only makes you wetter on his cock.

Jayce drops your head from his grasp, making contact with his pillow again as he drops his mouth to kiss your shoulder blade.  "I'll show you a real fucking distraction."

-

God's, this was so much worse than it had to be.

You were seated in the council room with everyone as per usual, with your shirt's neckline abnormally high and all three of them staring at you. Cassandra and Shoola responded to the other as Heimerdinger perked up with a suggestion, but you weren't even listening to that.

Jayce and Viktor were accompanying you, Mel, and the rest of the council this meeting because the topic discusses their latest project. Mel stared right past you and at Jayce, narrowing her eyes at him and he tried his best to seem unfazed. The rest of the council would think it was because she was in thought for the topic of discussion, but all four of you knew that wasn't the case. She didn't hold herself back from commenting on the bruise that crept from under your hemline and behind your ear.

Leaving Jayce's room yesterday and avoiding everyone for the rest of that day was hard. You said you had a minor flu and you realized how you need to be alone for the day. Mel had seemed to believe it at first, offering to get you soup or even massage you. Given how sore you were from Jayce, you were genuinely considering her offer before declining.

You had entered your bathroom and saw just how much Jayce had marked you. Lovebites down your neck, behind your ears, collarbones and breasts. He left you colored and it all seemed like a blur. You could barely remember when he had sucked any of them. Not to mention your legs, which felt like noodles. He had rearranged your guts inside out, and the stupid look on his face in the council showed his odd cockiness of the day.

You were the only one who saw his rude, cocky side. The rest of the council, and simply anyone else, saw him as this kind inventor. You wanted to sucker-punch that look off his face. But you couldn't, you weren't even paying any attention to him now. Your eyes were locked on Viktors.

If it weren't for the clench of his jaw, you'd think he's unfazed. Like he wasn't aware of anything. But you weren't stupid, and neither was Jayce. You both had noticed his stiffness since the moment he looked between the two of you in the council. It seems Mel has too, for she was eyeing daggers at the taller man. Jayce hated rejection, or disappointment from anyone. He was the kind of man who needed reassurance. But now? His small grin places his lips as he refuses to look at any of you.

-

(a/n; anyway sorry guys for deleting it i lowkey wish i didnt cus it got a lot of likes last time but whatever fuck this shit here you go)

Oh to have a 🔫 and 💥💥 myself. Lovely ☺️

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