This Was The Sweetest, Most Tooth Rotting Fluff Ever Omg. Kicking My Feet In The Air And Punching It.

This was the sweetest, most tooth rotting fluff ever omg. Kicking my feet in the air and punching it. The flirting is what got me cause omg they’re so into each other I can’t.

“‘You’re pretty clumsy you know… always tripping… it’s a real hazard.’ She hadn’t tripped in years.”

OH IM SWOONING

“His eyes half lidded and staring down at her soft lips.”

AGAHGAHAHZUSHWVSKDIWNWB. Safe to say this broke me. 😭

Terrible Lies

I’ve never posted on Tumblr before and I don’t write a lot so apologies for any mistakes! Don’t forget to comment, like, and reblog. I’m open to comments and requests!

Cross posted on AO3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61937722

Terrible Lies

The first time their hands grazed, it was purely by accident… possibly. Years ago when their partnership was still fresh and the idea of working near someone new was starting to bud, his fingers had brushed against hers while she handed him a wrench. He broke his steady gaze from the metal object he was tinkering with to look at where his fingers had made contact. He opened his mouth to say something but then furrowed his brows and closed his mouth. After a moment he said, “You should be more careful.”

Her lips parted with wide eyes and a soft smile forming at his humor. “Yes… it would be a real shame if I dropped it. I could have broken something.”

He hummed in agreement, nodding to the spotless floor.

He tried to shake the feeling of the softness of her skin to no avail. And so the habit began, the “accidental” and very frequent touches. They continued the habit of his hand slowly brushing against the bottom of hers when she handed him anything but it slowly morphed into other acts.

Over time their little touches became second nature - evolving with their relationship. She was standing on a chair and his hand rested against the small of her back. She peeked down at him and smirked. He looked right back at her and said, “You’re pretty clumsy you know… always tripping… it’s a real hazard.” She hadn’t tripped in years.

“You’re absolutely right.” She said as a matter of factly, “I don’t know what I’d do without your support!” She chuckled. A sound so soft that his breath hitched in his throat. Taking a swallow his eyes locked on her back where his fingers splayed.

Soon to follow were more touches, a gentle hand came to rest in between his shoulder blades one day, “Viktor! You’re slouching, you know that’s not good for your posture.” She said feigning concern. His back brace prevented him from slouching which he knows she can feel under his vest and shirt.

“That is very thoughtful.” He said earnestly.

“Isn’t it? You know I want the best for you”

His lips quirked up at the way her hand trailed to brush against the back of his neck when she moved away. Viktor briefly glimpsed her covering up a smile at her desk.

And then there were the late nights. Long hours spent in the lab, going over formulas, revising blueprints and tinkering with Hextech, often turned into leisurely walks home together - purely to ensure her safety and nothing else. On one night, her arm slipped into his and said, “The topside is such a dangerous place,” her voice laced with concern and a small frown tugging at her brows. He looked down at her face and saw the corners of her lips quirked up.

“Much more dangerous than the Undercity.” He said without missing a beat.

“Yes, I’m so glad that you’re here. I think someone could jump out and grab me if I were alone.”

“You would be at a great risk without someone to hold on to.” He said while nodding his head to get the point across as they walked through undoubtedly the safest area of Piltover. His mind halted at the warmth of how natural her arm fit into his.

On one evening when he was about to walk her home, he slowed his pace and said, “Hmm, the weather is dreadful to be walking in. At this rate our shoes will be flooded.” She looked up at the clear sky and frowned, shielding her hair with her free hand.

“We should hurry to your apartment.” She said as they took their time.

At first she took his bed while he took the couch, and then the next night she took the couch while he slept in his bed. It became a ritual to go straight to his apartment rather than hers that was all the way across town. It was truly a miracle that she had been making the trek to her own apartment this whole time. She thanked her stars that he was kind enough to let her stay with him more often than in her own bed. She made sure to stop just next door to grab some of her toiletries though.

One evening, he was resting in bed watching her braid her hair before she retired for the night. He watched the rhythmic motion of her fingers weaving silky strands together and felt a jolt in his chest. Before he could stop himself he quietly said, “It’s a little cold, don’t you think?”

She rubbed her toasty feet together, “You’re right. There’s definitely a chill in here. I guess we can share the bed if we keep to our own sides.”

He hastily agreed, “That would be the most respectable thing to do.”

He struggled with the knowledge that he could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears not knowing that she was going through the same struggle. She was glad that the dimness of the room blanketed her flaming cheeks while he was grateful that the moon shone on her face enough to tell that she was blushing for him.

“This cold sure isn’t letting up is it?” She whispered staring into his golden eyes.

“Bitterly cold.” He said without hesitation.

“Freezing” her breath tickled his face as she scooted closer

“Unbearable” he murmured, his arm brushing against her waist. The crickets chirped outside, louder with the open window allowing for the summer breeze to cool off his room.

Every touch came with a reason. That was the most sound thing to do in any scenario. It would be very irresponsible to touch a coworker for no reason.

Tonight was different. The pull between them was so taught that they could no longer skirt around what was happening between them.

As they worked late into the night, the tension between them seemed to settle heavier and heavier with each passing moment. She felt his eyes on her and turned to meet his stare. His eyes narrowed at her lips.

“Your lips are chapped.” His tone infused with something deeper. His eyes quickly flitted from her eyes down to her mouth.

“Are they?” She felt like she was out of breath from the look on his face.

“Yes, they are so chapped that they are practically cracking. You should probably do something about that.”

“That would be a real tragedy. How would I go over plans with you and Jayce?” She said in a worried tone, her hand coming up to brush over them lightly - smooth and velvety, and she gasped, “Yes, you’re right - they’re very chapped.”

“I’m sorry to say so.” He said softly leaning forward.

“It would be a shame if they bled.” She said just as softly with a teasing smile.

“Disastrous.” He was leaning forward, “You wouldn’t be able to talk for days.”

“I should probably find something to cover them.” Her gaze fixed on his lips, “I just ran out of lip balm though and the market is surely closed by now.”

“That’s a real shame… covering them has to be the only solution.” His eyes half lidded and staring down at her soft lips.

She nodded, her nose brushing against his, barely mumbling, “Mhm.”

Their words stopped with gentle breaths against their faces. She looked up at him through her lashes and let them flutter closed at his proximity. His hand came up to rest on her nape, thumb brushing the juncture where her jaw meets her neck. Their lips met in a slow kiss. Moving gently together with a hesitation that deepened into an unmistakable pull.

When they parted, breathless and flushed, she whispered “Well… that solves the problem for now.”

“It’s only practical.” He whispered.

More Posts from Night-fall-moon and Others

1 year ago
Chapter 3: Recreation—Redoubt

Chapter 3: Recreation—Redoubt

Chapter 3: Recreation—Redoubt

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Chapter 3: Recreation—Redoubt

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."

Chapter 3: Recreation—Redoubt

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.

Chapter 3: Recreation—Redoubt

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.

Chapter 3: Recreation—Redoubt

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.

Chapter 3: Recreation—Redoubt

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.

Chapter 3: Recreation—Redoubt

"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.

Chapter 3: Recreation—Redoubt

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.

Chapter 3: Recreation—Redoubt

wc: 2.5k previous chapter  masterlist next chapter

Chapter 3: Recreation—Redoubt

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

Chapter 3: Recreation—Redoubt

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Chapter 3: Recreation—Redoubt

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2 years ago

Rain

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Sirius Black x fem! reader

[Marauders Era]

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Summary: Y/n has been in love with James for years, watching painfully from the side-lines as he failed to woo Lily. When they finally get together she finds comfort in her best friend, as time passes she finds herself falling for him but will it end up the same way or will she get her happy ending this time?

Warnings: unrequited love, heartbreak, swearing, Marlene and Dorca stealing the show, mentions of alcohol, drinking and sex

A/n: 15k words, reader is in the same year as the marauders, she’s a marauder and a Gryffindor, bit slow burn, it’s a long one so get comfy and enjoy I’m quite proud of this one so please let me know what you think xx

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y/m/n – your marauder name 

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Navigation | Sirius Black Masterlist

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You couldn’t pinpoint the moment you fell for him, you had been friends for years but slowly your feelings began to drift from platonic to romantic

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You ran into James and Sirius on the first day, being sorted into Gryffindor alongside them, you never forgot the first prank you pulled with them which ended up in you climbing up a tree to elude Flitch. Soon after that you met Peter and Remus and the five of you became inseparable as the years went by. 

At first you giggled with your friends at James’ infatuation with Lily, teasing him with Sirius constantly. As you grew older you still teased him but not to the same degree as before, the others assumed you were just growing out of it, much like you stopped calling Snape, Snivellus, near the end of 2nd year, although that was readopted after he called Lily a mudblood in 5th year.

It wasn’t until you came back for your 6th year you started to feel a dull ache in your heart when you heard James gush over Lily or when he would be heartbroken after being rejected once again, resulting in you or Sirius hugging him and Remus having to give him some of his chocolate. Eventually Peter came up with the idea of having a special ‘James was rejected again’ stash since Remus was going stir crazy with him taking all his chocolate.

The ache in your chest only grew, it wasn’t until one afternoon you were sitting reading with Remus as James, Sirius and Peter all were working on the map that it hit you. You remembered it clearly, he looked up at you, flashed his stunning smile and it hit you like a ton of bricks.

You felt your heart crack over and over again, the worst part about it all was you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at either them. Lily was wonderful, perfect in every way James described, as for him it wasn’t his fault he didn’t like you like that so you let yourself suffer in silence, heart crumble piece by piece, making the mistake of allowing yourself to hope that one day James might give up on Lily and see you were there the whole time.

Keep reading

10 months ago

I’ve been posting the recent chapters on my Wttp and AO3 account, been lazing off of tumblr due to formatting (I hate formatting shit) but some of the other chapters are out. I just have to format them on here. Also we’re nearing the end of the first act for TG: Re/Who Are You?!!! Yay :D

5 months ago

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Talking about who? Singed?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Anything for me.”

My Atlantis, We Fall | Finale

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

My Atlantis, We Fall | Finale

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

My Atlantis, We Fall | Finale

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2 years ago

Second Son (XII) | Regulus Black

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

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

Part XI / Series Masterlist

Second Son (XII) | Regulus Black
Second Son (XII) | Regulus Black

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

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

Second Son (XII) | Regulus Black

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘You do? How?’ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It worked, you had the horcrux now. 

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

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

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

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

Great, you all suffered for nothing. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Reg?’ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was all a terrible dream. 

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

Yes. You were dreaming.

This had to be a nightmare. 

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

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

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

And then you knew no more than darkness. 

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

Second Son (XII) | Regulus Black

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1 year ago
Chapter 4: Remiss—Reckon

Chapter 4: Remiss—Reckon

Chapter 4: Remiss—Reckon

previous chapter  masterlist next chapter

Chapter 4: Remiss—Reckon

As the case came to a close one of the Suzuya squad members abruptly spoke up, "By the way, I thought the Q's squad had five members?"

"Oh, the other two are..." Reina rubbed the back of her neck anxiously, knowing that Shirazu most likely gave up trying to wake up the blue sloth.

The other two—Mutsuki and Urie—beside her murmured quietly. "I wonder if he couldn't wake up Saiko.."

"Can't be helped, but it doesn't reflect well on Q's squad."

Mutsuki looked at the vacant seat across from him, "their squad leader isn't here yet either." He noted to the boy next to him.

And just on time the short male sprinted through the door making quite the entrance.

"Sorry I'm late!" He marched on in as his squad rose to greet him, a rush of good mornings flooded the room.

Once introductions were set, Suzuya turned to the two instructors and greeted them with open arms—but instead of a hug, Suzuya instead began to pat the taller man down. Handful after handful of candy piling up in the palms of his hands—stuffing them into his own pockets for later. He then turned to the girl and stuck his hands out expecting her to pull out another handful of treats just for him.

"You know candy'll give you cavities Juuzou." She said as she handed the small handful to him.

"This is less than last time." He pouted as he counted each piece.

"Did you not hear what I just said? Haise gave you enough as it is." She quirked a brow at him.

He smiled at her and popped the lollipop she gave him into his mouth before turning to Abara.

"Sir, the meeting has concluded.." the taller man noted.

"Then gimme the short version. But before you do-"

"I'm sorry... we're late!!" A loud voice echoed throughout the room and small snores could be heard from behind the man.

"Shirazu?!"

"Im impressed. Maybe putting Shirazu in charge was a good idea, Haise." She smiled at the younger boy as he blushed at the compliment, behind him Saiko seemed to have been half awake, mumbling incoherent words.

"I met them in front of the elevator.. give me the rundown once they're seated, please." Juuzou finished his sentence as Abara nodded at his word.

"Sorry Sassan, Nana.. we're so late.." he frowned.

"I-it's alright. Thanks for bringing her here... you did great!!" Haise smiled awkwardly trying to calm the panting boy.

"Stop acting like you did something bad," Reina rolled her eyes at the dramatic boy, "just be proud about the fact that you were able to bring her here. Give her to me, just sit." She extended her arms out and reached out to grab the drooling girl on his back.

She carried her to an empty seat and tried to wake her up.

"C'mon Saiko, you're here already might as well try and be present for the meeting, yeah?" She cupped the girl's chubby cheeks. Instead the girl just kept nodding off, a string of drool dropping onto the older girls arm.

Instead of getting grossed out by the wet feeling she just brushed it off and continued shaking the sleepy girl awake. "Saiko... if you try your best throughout this mission I'll buy you that new DLC you've been wanting." She bribed.

How the girl caught her words, she'll never know, but they seemed to work as the weariness was slowly washing off of her and a sudden consciousness came to front for a bit.

"You promise?" Her raspy voice called out quietly.

"Have I ever broken a promise, Saiko?"

"Nuh-uh."

"So you promise?"

"Pinky promise?"

"Alright, pinky promise." Both girls intertwined their fingers together swearing not to break this vow, not wanting to disappoint the other as it'd give them something valuable in return.

A significant gift from the girl she looks up to, and a better relationship with the girl she wants to protect the world from.

Chapter 4: Remiss—Reckon

A ghoul who consumed only genitals from the opposite sex wasn't uncommon to hear, but was pretty unsettling to hear the least. As her name suggested, she only ate testicles—and her traces were rather odd.

Cases of human trafficking in ghoul society wasn't uncommon at all. After all that's how the Gourmet's eat after all—and ghoul restaurants were still as popular as ever, but that may just be considered kidnapping and homicide.

"Well..?" Haise muttered into hi in-earpiece.

Seated at the designated restaurant, the Quinx squad was separated by tables. A group of three by the back of the restaurant and one closer to where The Nutcracker and her accomplice were seated, those being Mutsuki, Shirazu, and Saiko.

Haise, Reina and Urie situated farther away guiding the rest of the squad from afar. So far they were able to barely get anything in either of them.

"It's no good. My ears aren't up to par today." Shirazu scolded himself growing increasingly frustrated at his incompetence during an important point of their main mission.

Turning to the small blue haired girl, Shirazu nudged her and asked if she could hear anything, but all that came out was her describing the sound of the meat grilling in the kitchen. Unable to hold back his frustration he took it out in the girl and whacked her on the head while cursing her out.

Sighing, Reina looked up from her phone and turned to the other two boys beside her and noticed that they were equally as stressed, though Urie was hiding it a lot better than Haise. Speaking of the boy, he looked to be lost in thought until Shirazu spoke into the earpiece.

"What do we do? S-should we move closer?"

"No. Knowing that when ghouls are out they're already hyper aware of their surroundings. They'll just get more suspicious of us. Plus, you guys look so out of place." She scrolled on her phone and mumbled the last part more so to herself, but Urie happened to overhear her but decided not to comment.

"Shit, I can almost hear them too-" Shirazu's arm pushed his cup over the edge of the table. The fragile glass shattering as it came into contact with the floor. Shards of glass and juice spreading all over the floor.

Haise covered his face in dread, Saiko looked at the boy in an unimpressed manner. Mutsuki turned to nervously look at the boy who was probably shitting bricks and pissing himself right about now.

Trying to act nonchalantly Urie took a sip of his coffee, and Reina continued to scroll in her phone acting as if nothing ever happened.

The Nutcracker and her accomplice turned to look over her shoulder back at the blonde before she got up to pour herself a cup of iced coffee. Her gaze never leaving his.

Chapter 4: Remiss—Reckon

"I'm sorry Investigator Suzuya... the Nut seems to be returning home earlier than we expected. She may have caught onto us. I'm sorry. It was my fault.. yes sir." Haise cut the call and turned to the sulking boy.

"Squad leader. It's alright. We'll make up for it next time."

"Shirazu. Look at me," the girl ordered. He hesitantly looked up at her, "Mistakes happen. You'll get used to things not going as planned. Cheer up."

Chapter 4: Remiss—Reckon

Once the squad back home Shirazu locked himself in his room out of sheer frustration and embarrassment from his supposed failure. Leaving him be Reina went up to her room and grabbed a few toiletries before heading into the bathroom and taking a warm bath.

She stripped of her day clothes and stepped into the warm water, her mind running wild until she sat down letting the warm water relax her badly and mind. Slipping further and further into the tub she let herself get consumed by the water, numbing her senses letting the wave of calmness take over.

She recalled a memory. They were in the comfort of their own home, she was on her bed reading while her sister was by the windowsill painting her nails. She'd gotten to a chapter that described a new setting she was totally unfamiliar with.

The sandy, sunny beach. Where there was an infinite amount of sand and water—inches, feet, kilometers deep. Waves that crashed up against the rocks that bordered the shore line. The feeling of cold salt water splashing against their warm skin.

"Rize, what's a beach?"

"A beach? Well they're usually considered a tropical place, but not always. They're apparently great vacation trips for when you want to take a break from everything."

"How come we've never been to the beach?"

"That, silly girl, is because there's no big bodies of water here in the city. We need to be by the coast in order to be by the beach."

"I wanna go to the beach!"

"Do you know how to swim?"

"Of course! Why wouldn't I? Kichimura taught me how to-"

A knock at the door brought her back to reality. She pushed herself up and out of the water, hands wiping the water out of her face before responding.

"Yeah?"

"I need to ask you something."

"I'll be out in a minute—hold on."

She pulled the drain plug and stepped out of the tub onto the floor. Droplets of water soaking the dry floor. She wrung her hair and wrapped it up in a towel. She grabbed her other towel and began drying herself as quickly as she could. Deciding she was dry enough she put her underwear on and messily put her outerwear on.

Leaving the bathroom a mess she opened the door, her face being met with a poker face.

"What is it?"

"I need you to sign this." He handed the sheet of papear over.

Reading it over it stated the following, surgical consent form... frame procedure... healthy... next step.

"If I don't sign this, what'll happen?"

...

"And what did Sasaki say?"

"He'll give it some thought."

"Let's go to my room. We can discuss this more privately in there." She grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around whilst guiding him to her room. Opening the door she pushed him inside and closed it behind her.

"Okay first thing first, why do you want to get it done?"

"I-"

"And be honest with me, I don't want a bullshit answer."

"As I was saying, I feel like I'm handling my kagune better than before and my rising RC levels have stabilized. Taking the next step in the experiment would be best for me."

"No. That's the answer you should give me, I want your personal belief. I know there's a stronger feeling that's making you feel strongly about the surgery."

...

Sighing she pinched her nose bridge knowing it would get her nowhere with him. Knowing Kuki Urie, there would be no coaxing his actual feelings out. He was a smart boy, knew exactly what his peers and everyone else wanted to hear. But when it came to Reina there was no use trying to suck up to her.

"Look, I know we're not as close as I am to the other members. But you keep pushing yourself away from emoting how you truly feel in the moment, and it's not just that. Remember how you asked for the reimbursement, and how you kept handing us receipts?"

He blinked.

"You never communicated with us. Had you told us your idea, your plan, anything at all! You wouldn't have put anyone in danger. You're holding yourself back and you don't even know it because that's been your whole li-"

"Don't act like you know me-"

"But I do know you. See how you're acting defensive? You know exactly what I'm talking about, Kuki Urie."

"Shut your mouth."

"You know, I wish you would just speak your mind no matter what. I can tell that you're hurti-"

"Will you sign the form? Or not?" He cut her off before she could say anything else.

"No." She crossed her arms, her voice dripping of disapproval.

He walked out of the room and slammed the door.

Chapter 4: Remiss—Reckon

"Please take a look at the files in your hands... it's a copy of a list discovered at The Nutcracker's residence.

"A list?"

"Yes. It's a grocery list. It suggests there's a connection between the Nutcracker and the madames."

"So the Nut also kidnaps people, maybe she's collecting things for the auction."

"An auction..?" Mutsuki asked after hearing the word during the case.

"It's a bidding event that the madames hold—similarly to ghoul restaurants. They bid off the victims they kidnapped," Reina explained simply, "or in other words human trafficking."

"The ghoul known as the Big Madame—the chairperson of the restaurant and the show—is notorious throughout the CCG. We've had numerous chances to eradicate her, but they all ended in failure."

"So she's a vicious ghoul..?"

"If the Nutcracker is working for the Madame this could be an important case."

"If needs be, we may work, with Countermeasure II..."

Chapter 4: Remiss—Reckon

Leaving the briefing was pretty eventful. With the newfound information of the case, everything had now changed. This was going to be the first case in a while where they would actively pursue a rate: ≥ A ghoul. It was like a scary thrill ride with how surreal the moment felt as it sank in.

The five of them walked out together and murmured a few words to each other about the case.

"Sounds likes it's bigger than I expected..."

"Yeah. A joint investigation with Countermeasure II rarely happens. Guess it's all up to the Nut... we need to be at our best." Haise stated, everyone else knowing that it was true. If they lacked competence in any way, shaper, or form they'd end up six feet under.

"Hey, Sassan, Nana."

Bothe mentors perked up at their names being called upon by the blonde boy beside them.

"Is Urie okay? Being sent to the hospital out of nowhere like that."

"Sorry, I don't know. I was just informed myself."

Reina sighed knowing exactly what happened. After the argument that ensued the night he presented her the consent form, she knew that he'd still get the surgery behind their backs. How he was able to go through with it? She didn't know, but she probably had a feeling he forged their signatures or something.

"I'm sure he'll be fine, Shirazu. Urie's a tough nut, he'll get through whatever's going on in his immune system." She reassured the boy, not letting anything slip.

"I don't know. I can't reach Dr. Shiba either."

"I hope it's nothing serious."

"They said he'll be back in a few days. It'll just be us then."

"We have a meeting tonight. Shirazu, there's someplace I have to go to after I lecture Saiko. Can I have the car keys?" Haise reached his arm out as the boy pulled the keys out without hesitation and passed them to the man.

Chapter 4: Remiss—Reckon

After Haise came back, he wasted no time to call everyone into the meeting room to announce their new plan. He sat everyone down and gave them the shorter version of what he was told,

"The Nut is scoping out potential victims in clubs and other places in the 13th ward. The list includes some unusual criteria for victims. Ocular prosthesis... vocalist, and some general ones like specific height and weight."

He stood up, " guys. We're going to become women."

Chapter 4: Remiss—Reckon

wc: 2.8k previous chapter  masterlist next chapter

Chapter 4: Remiss—Reckon

a/n: this’ll be the last chapter for the month, and I’ll be taking a break due to personal reasons. I’ll continue writing whilst I’m on hiatus, so it’ll be easier to post once I’m done and so I’m ahead of my schedule. I’ll be back by May! So I’ll see you guys then!

ps. I wasn’t going to post today at all, but I felt like I was depriving everyone and myself of giving y’all the next chapter, so here you are

Chapter 4: Remiss—Reckon

Tag list:

Chapter 4: Remiss—Reckon

Tags
2 years ago

the black cousins

The Black Cousins
The Black Cousins
The Black Cousins
The Black Cousins

all the hidden meanings!

colors:

red is the color of sirius’ shirt, narcissa’s lips and regulus’ pocket handkerchief. red represents how they rebelled against their family (sirius ran away and was openly against their morals, narcissa lied to voldemort and basically helped defeating him w her words, regulus turned against voldemort at the last moment, dying for his cause)

narcissa and andromeda are the only ones not wearing black, and they’re the only survivors in this picture.

clothes and accessories:

andromeda is wearing a white dress that resembles a bride’s dress, because she ran away to marry ted. her and sirius’s clothes are also less restricting than regulus and narcissa’s, because unlike their younger siblings they got their freedom.

andromeda, like her cousins, is wearing silver jewelry, aside from a gold ring (her engagement ring), and with her hand she’s covering a family pendant (she chose love over her family). regulus is wearing a pin that looks like salazar’s locket.

poses and such:

andromeda isn’t looking at the camera because she was the first to “look away from her family”, and sirius is looking at her because he would soon follow in her footsteps (andy also has a hand on his shoulder to further represent her influence on him). similarly, bellatrix (who is the only one smiling) is keeping an hand on narcissa so she wouldn’t leave. narcissa has a hand clenched in a fist, covered by her left, (as a way to hide her defiance).

ok i think this is all but i’m not sure lmao xx

hope you like it ^^

5 months ago

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

1 month ago

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.

Okay Here’s A Little Early Morning (who Tf Am I Kidding I’ve Been Awake Since 3:30 Today) Writing

Tags
2 years ago
Title: Eyes On Me

Title: Eyes On Me

Genre: Slytherin! Yoongi, Ravenclaw! reader, smart and kind! reader, bad boy! Yoongi, pureblood! Yoongi, muggle born! reader, tutor au, fluff, and angst

Summary: Professor Longbottom asked L/N Y/N to help Min Yoongi out with Herbology. She’s excited to help another person out but Yoongi on the other hand doesn’t want people knowing she’s hanging out with him. Instead he tells her to study within the room of requirement but Y/N assumes it’s because he wants peace and no distractions to study. As time passes, Yoongi sees her more as his tutor and starts to develop a crush on the strange girl but what happens when his Slytherin friends see him with her?

[ The distance I feel from you is too far, I can't let go of a little trace I got from you ]

[ Preview ]

His deep voice hit her ears making her face turn a light red shade. Professor Longbottom smiled at this and looked at Y/N with a soft look, “Is that okay for you, Ms. L/N? You can always decline it if you're busy with your studies.” 

She shook her head at him with a smile on her face. She glanced at Yoongi to see that he was already looking at her (with a blank expression), “I would love to help.” 

“Alright, thank you Ms. L/N. Mr. Min I expect your next test grade to be at least a 70.” 

They nodded their heads and left the classroom. She saw that he was walking faster than her and she grabbed his arm to stop him. He glanced at her and she noticed that he never had a smile on his face. She gave him a nervous smile and looked down at the ground, “I was wondering when you want to study. I usually study on the weekends to make things easier but if-”

“We can study on the weekends. I have charms to get to, can I go?” 

She let go of arm and looked down ashamed that she kept him from his class, “Yeah...I’m sorry about that. I guess I’ll see you around.” 

“Yeah.” 

She watched him go down the hall until he disappeared. She frowned to herself and looked down at her shoes, Yoongi, you're so weird. When Yoongi turned the corner, he leaned against the wall and clenched his chest as he felt his rapid heart beat on his hand. He felt his face turn red now that he's alone and he hoped no one saw it. He ran his hand through his hair as he let out a deep sigh, “Y/N...”

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