#and then vik kept writing

[w2sology]

Hi can u do harry with shy and pregnant reader who ìs like a little sister to rest of the sidemen

nerf or nothing, harry lewis.

summary: the boys come over to spend a bit of time with you and harry, and they come bearing gifts!

warnings: pregancy (idk if that's even a warning?)

notes: as a shy person myself, some of this writing is heavily self inserted 🥲

"what if they don't end up liking football though?"

"then we can try darts. or hey, even rugby."

"harry."

it was past noon and you and harry were discussing things that parents to be often discussed, only harry was focused on the later years of your child's life.

the two of you sat in bed, your back leaning against his chest as you sat in between his legs, loads of catalogues scattered around you both.

"oh, about the pram that you were talking about before," harry mentioned.

"yeah?"

"ethan said faith had loads of websites, she could send them to you if you wanted?"

"oh, god, yes." you sighed contentedly, no longer feeling the stress of having to look for a perfect pram. "or better yet, tell her that she can come over, i haven't seen her or olive in a minute."

harry told you that he'd let ethan know, kissing your forehead before leaving to the kitchen to fix you both a snack.

whilst he was in the middle of pouring you a glass of cranberry juice ─── "it's good for the body harry," you told him, to which he replied with "no, rank is what it is," ─── the doorbell rang.

confused as to who you were both expecting or if it was yet another baby purchase coming in, harry sat the glass on the counter and made his way to the door.

before he could even open it, he knew who it was judging by the loud voices and the bickering of what sounded like jj and simon.

"just ring it once, mate, they can definitely hear." simon groaned, trying to obstruct jj, who clearly didn't listen and kept pressing the doorbell, which earned your attention from upstairs.

harry stood a little away from the door, contemplating what would happen if he just turned around and pretended not to hear the commotion happening outside.

"we can see you, harry," ethan called from through the letterbox. so much for that plan.

harry sighed before opening the door, a smile plastered on his face as his friends all cheered, seeing them bound with gifts and food and other things.

the soft sound of your footsteps made them all turn their head to where you were on the stairs, your baby bump proudly peeking through harry's oversized shirt that you had on.

"oh," you shyly smiled. "hi guys." you didn't think they'd all be here, but there they were.

one by one they came up to you, hugging you and saying their hi's or hello's, asking how you were. and you'd reply with the same, you were doing good, more tired than usual, all that stuff.

whilst harry and simon carried the gifts and food bags to the living room, toby linked your arm with his as he walked you there, making sure you were sat comfortably before harry and simon joined.

harry, being attracted to you like a magnet, squished in next to you, his body on the edge of the sofa as you leant on him.

there was never a moment of silence when the boys came over, and like the listener you were, you loved it.

toby began to explain what each of the gifts were for, considering you didn't know the gender of the baby yet, most of then were just toys. but then again, with them being the slightly immature bunch if men they were, the toys were things like legos and nerf guns or huge dollhouses for toddlers.

"what the hell is a baby going to do with a nerf gun?" harry asked.

"i thought you of all people would like this gift," jj gasped, hand on his chest as he feigned hurt at harry's words.

"no, i'm just saying boys..." and there started the debate over suitable toys for children.

you turned to vik with a look that said 'help me' yet all he did was shrug.

"harry, a couple of months ago you would've been on board with this idea. y/n, what did you do to him?" ethan pointed a finger at you.

"what— me? he's right, a nerf gun's for toddlers, not babies!" you defended yourself.

harry's chest moved up and down as he laughed behind you, even more so at the way you groaned and his your face in your hands.

"i'm not ready for harry's mature era," simon commented.

"mature and harry don't belong in the same sentence," vik added.

"oh my days," harry mumbled as they launched into a new topic, harry's maturity level.

as they all introduced their own point, you just smiled and laughed along as you leant on your boyfriend, feeling even more excited for your baby to be welcomed into the family.

[balsamfir-fics]

a hope redefined (prelude)

Genres: angst, post S1 canon, more angst, romance, eventual smut, established childhood crushes to strangers to lovers, post-pining, becoming machine herald (sort of), eventual dad!vik, political tensions, growing up, the human condition

Pairing: Viktor/AFAB Reader

Warnings: series will have eventual smut, mentions of difficult pregnancy/injury/civil war. this prelude mentions spicy activities.

Summary: Viktor shouldn’t be alive.

He shouldn’t have survived the blast of the Council attack, and even if he did his sands of time should have soon run out. And yet here he stands, part man and part machine, in a future he never planned for and an augmented body he never expected to have.

With no template to follow, Viktor forges a new path towards happiness as he grapples with reconciling the man he once was and the man he could become. Complicated as this path may be, he knows better than to waste an opportunity to spend his remaining years with you, the person he’s kept in his heart ever since you were children. Amidst the chaos of an antebellum Runeterra, Viktor finds his freedom, his future, and his family.

Chapters: Prelude

Chapter Word Count: ~1.3k

Author Notes: Unedited. Threequel and final part to a hope never forgotten and a hope at risk. This can be read independently of its predecessors, though reading those first will better contextualize Viktor and YN’s relationship. Previous fics summarized below if you don't have time to read them!

Prequel summary: YN is Heimerdinger’s adopted daughter; YN and Viktor are childhood friends who grew up together between the ages of 10-16 and separated at 16 immediately after an unspoken confession of love. The uncertainty and cowardice of youth prevent YN from keeping contact until twelve years pass. Over the next five years the two keep orbiting each other, gravity pulling them closer, until Viktor’s hospital stint as per Episode 5 forces YN to reckon with their lifetime of love. The end of A Hope Never Forgotten sees Viktor’s seventeen-year-long hope and longing fulfilled.

A Hope at Risk follows canon for episodes 5-9 of Season 1, with some references to LoL lore for post-Season 1 events. Viktor hides his prognosis and the nature of his Hexcore experiments from YN for as long as possible, until his life is in jeopardy after the Council attack and YN finally finds out. YN and Jayce share the decision-making burden in not destroying the Hexcore so that Viktor's life can be saved. Viktor withdraws while processing all of these black-swan events (Hexcore integration, new city of Zaun, his Zaunite and Piltovan identities, etc), but hopes to work through his demons enough to return to YN. In the meantime, he moves to Emberflit Alley in Zaun where he hopes to rebuild who he is and figure out who wants to be.

If missed, the prior work notes that Viktor refers to YN as 'Sparrow' sometimes, which is because he finds her lively and likeable.

This last work refers to Arcane Season 1 canon first and foremost, then interprets post-Season-1 events by incorporating elements from older LoL lore. The majority of this piece will not follow Season 2 canon as it's not out at the time of writing, but Viktor's plotline in this work is written to be as plausible of a Season 2 fan theory as possible.

The first work in this series deals primarily with hope as per the title; the second deals with themes of loss and survival. Both are about decisions made and avoided. This final work reckons with recovery, rebirth, and rebuilding.

Hope, as the past five years has taught Viktor, is not quite the out-of-reach temptress he once believed it was, but rather a willful act of empowerment that even he is entitled to pursue.

It’s a bit of an odd lesson for him. During decades of wanting, but not having, he thought perhaps hope was a thing intended only for others — never him. He now thinks back to those days, remembering his own failure to quell the little flickers he felt, despite what he considered to be careful, methodological, and supposedly fool-proof efforts. How could his sixteen-year-old self, shown blissful perfection for mere minutes before having his heart torn away from him, ever have fathomed that there was something that came after despair? How would he, at 28, know that the little flame of hope he forgot to extinguish would grow to a blaze of success? Even more important — how could he have ever known that a sickly boy from the undercity could be given a second lease on life?

These second chances he never expected to receive (and one, even, that he still struggles with accepting) are the reason he is here today, he reminds himself. And here so happens to be in the arms of your post-coital form, watching as you struggle to calm your breathing. This affirms two things that he thought to be impossibilities: you’re his partner, and he’s — somehow — alive.

Such boons come with their own set of costs, of course. The cool metal of his peculiar augmentations serve as a daily reminder of what he gave up for science, for life, and for society. In part, he surrendered some of his humanity; though he's grateful to live another day in your presence, something that nearly feels sentient lives within him as sustenance. Nevermind the brief euphoria he felt running at the docks; the Hexcore might be a curse, he thinks, but it saved his life. In other ways, he lost control over his moral sensibilities; the breaths he’s allowed to take now were given to him against his consent, and the corrupted Hexcore remains, undestroyed, within him. Skye’s life was taken by the very thing keeping him in the mortal realm, and he endures the guilt of her death with every second his life goes on longer than hers.

He’s spent the greater part of the past few weeks in agony, mostly of the emotional sort as the foreign, willful hum of the Hexcore inside him makes quick work of healing his most severe injuries. Tormented by his conscience, his fear, and a profound sense of losing himself, Viktor knows he’s made a series of hurtful decisions to part from his entire family in Piltover. He knows that some of these relationships will have seen their heyday and may be beyond repair — not for lack of effort, but by the predicament of the turbulent political climate created in the aftermath of the Council attack. But such efforts must be taken one step at a time, one person at a time. Fixated on working on himself so that he might stand by you as his full self and not a broken, conflicted version, he furiously set plans in motion no matter his uncertainty. At his first sign of some satisfactory progress (to his standards), he allowed himself the small luxury of reaching out to you. He’d intended to only start a conversation, hoping to restore the full effect of your relationship as best as one might during a powder keg of a political situation. At most he’d expected that you might see each other in a few months to a year after letting letters and counseling do the work of rebuilding.

Naturally, you (fearless, fearless you, Viktor thinks) showed up on his doorstep at first chance instead. He would never complain, but after two nights of your warmth in his bed and the impossible pleasure of your daily company, the worries that prevented him from seeing you earlier seep back in.

As if you can sense his rising anxiety, you stir against him now after having come back down to Terra. He smiles at the dazed, incomprehensible murmur you make with your lips against his bare shoulder. You ease him, somewhat, but the kernel of worry remains. Viktor presses kisses to the top of your head. You tighten your arms around him, blinking back into reality under the dim Zaunite glow that filters into his bedroom.

“It’s still early,” he hums. “I’m sorry I woke you for…” (You raise your eyebrows knowingly, pressing naked self into him more intently). Viktor elects to finish his sentence carefully. “…For certain activities.” He coughs, making you smile at the dichotomy of his bashfulness after rather intense morning spent with his face between your legs. “You should get some more rest.”

Never one to be told what to do, you frown slightly, then prop yourself into an elbow. But Viktor is adamant you take care of your health (never mind that he’s notoriously bad at doing the same for himself), especially in these polluted depths. Pulling you to the washroom for the loo and a quick rinse, he then leads you back into his small bed for a few more hours of shut-eye. Later when he tries to wake you for a tardy breakfast, he chuckles at the trail of dried saliva you hurriedly wipe away — at least it’s a strong indication that you’re able to sleep soundly despite the constant bustle in the streets of Zaun. His small unit is a far cry from the sweeping wings of the Heimerdinger Estate that you’re accustomed to, and it’s still much less comfortable than even his modest apartment back in Piltover. In the least, he’d managed to pull together a rudimentary air filter from spare materials he brought with him from the academy lab and hopes that it lasts long enough for the duration of your stay.

Then he realizes something. He has no idea how long you’ll be here in Emberflit Alley with him. Hopefully not long, he thinks. Not because he wants to stop seeing you, no — rather, Zaun is no place for a Piltovan at present, and the small alley he’s in now was chosen for its seclusion instead of its relative quality of living. The dangers to you in the former undercity are many; if not to your health by means of pollutants, then by the constant stirrings of war that are whispered in the streets, emboldened by the Council attack and the topside confusion that remains unresolved. The pit in his stomach grows. You shouldn’t be here. No matter how much he would prefer to bask in your presence.

Nonetheless, you are here and these precious minutes are not to be wasted. You sit up, concerned by the change in his expression as thoughts race through his brilliant mind. “Vitya?”

“Hm?” He shakes his head slightly as if to rid himself of his thoughts, then pushes himself off of the bed to lean against his crutch. “Ah, I made a quick meal in case you might be a bit peckish. It’s not much, but it’s enough.”

You survey him, waiting to see if he might share what he was thinking of. Viktor merely tilts his head in the direction of his kitchen with a half-smile. He waits patiently as you grind your teeth in your decision to stay in bed longer or satisfy your hunger, electing to savor the moments he can with the extra time he’s been given, and pushes away his niggling concerns for now. His leg twinges as if to remind him who he has to thank, but when you slot yourself into him and support his side (arm wrapped tightly around his waist), he melts into your warmth and feels his worries — temporarily — fade into the background.

The road ahead might be immensely difficult and fraught with tragedy, he thinks. But mornings like these make it all worth it. As he wraps his own arm around your shoulders and nestles your head onto his, Viktor silently vows to help ensure that you and Runeterrans — all Runeterrans, not just the privileged few — get to have a future filled with such mornings.

[itsjustbell]

Sleep

Summary: After a long day at the studio, you decide to pay your favorite scientist a little visit and maybe convince him to get some much-needed rest.

Lol, I did end up putting this on a separate blog. This is the first fic I'm posting to Tumblr. I had to hype myself up for this, but I hope y'all like it. Please let me know if y'all would want more of this kind of stuff haha I totally didn't redo my whole blog just to post this, so I could keep my art and writing on separate accounts

Oh and thanks to @bruh-anator3000 for the confidence boost, i love you _______________________

You could see the blue glow of HexTech from under the lab’s door before you even entered the room. Familiar piles of blueprints and scribbled out calculations lay scattered across desks and floors alike. You made special note of the ones that bore black burns on their borders. You’d reckon that the lab was almost as messy as your studio back in the arts and design side of the Academy, splattered with paint and littered with tools strewn haphazardly on tables. Mess was the calling card of a creative you supposed, and at the center of this particular one, bathed in blue light and golden sparks, was Viktor.

Despite the echoing clack of your shoes against the floor, he stayed seemingly unaware of your presence. Not that he usually acknowledged the presence of many while he was working, but you still thought that perhaps the sharp sound disturbing the relative peace would have caught his attention. Even as you stood behind him, peering over his shoulder, he kept working. If he knew you were there, he made no show of it.

He flinched as you placed a hand on his shoulder, cursing. A part of you almost felt bad for spooking him, and you would’ve if he wasn’t wearing those stupidly adorable blue goggles. He looked over his shoulder at you with what you could only fathom was a glare through those thick blue lenses.

“You’re lucky I didn’t drop anything,” He scolded, setting down whatever it was he was tinkering with. It looked to be some sort of mechanical…claw with one of those hex balls he and Jayce had been troubleshooting. “You should know better than to disturb a scientist when he is working. This is—” He picked up the blue orb– “dangerous stuff I’m working with!”

“Mhmmm, and what would you have done? Beat me to death with this contraption of yours?” You gently removed his goggles, holding back a laugh. He grumbled as you did, but the pout that had formed a tight knot on his face all but melted away as you started to smooth out his goggle-hair. His hair was soft, though slightly slicked with grease.

“Is it so late that even you have stopped working to grace me with your presence?” He asked.

“I think I could hear the morning doves as I walked here.”

He hummed, slinking deeper into his chair as your fingers carded through his hair.

“You’re going to tell me it’s time to sleep, aren’t you?”

“It’s important,” You say as you work out a particularly unruly knot, “and I think your back could use the break from all the times you’ve passed out at this desk just this month.”

You slid your hands down the back of his neck and gave his shoulders a light squeeze. He shuddered under your hands. You leaned down to his ear.

“You’re turning into a shrimp,” You mused. He gasped dramatically, turning around in his chair with a hand to his heart.

“How dare you!”

You laughed, a smirk playing on your lips, “If it hurts so much, you must know it’s true.”

“Who said things have to be true to hurt?”

Despite the oh-so-scornful look on his face, he didn’t move when you placed your hands on his cheeks. “Are you going to sleep or not, Vik?”

He hummed, meeting your eyes with a playful smile. “Ehh… With all these insults of yours… I don’t think I’ve been properly persuaded yet.” His hands found their way to your hips, drawing you in close. Half-lidded amber eyes suddenly turned to alluring whiskey, and you eagerly drank them in.

“And what would you suggest?”

His eyes flicked down to your lips.

“A kiss, perhaps?” You chuckled, but fulfilled his request nevertheless.

You could feel the warmth of his red flush bloom under your fingertips as your lips met his. The hands on your waist wound themselves tighter into the fabric of your shirt, inviting you to rest a knee on the edge of his chair, so you didn’t have to lean down quite so far. His lips were rough against yours, but the abrasion only seemed to make you dizzier with desire. You had to steel yourself in order to pull away, lest you get lost in your lustful daze. An amused hum resounded through your chest when you saw his lips try to follow yours as you leaned back.

“Will that suffice?”

He raised an eyebrow. His pupils had nearly eclipsed his whole iris.

“Surely I can’t convince you into something more?”

“Nice try, mister,” You grab his tie out of his shirt and pull lightly. “You can have more when you’re in bed.”

He sighed in mock annoyance. “Well, if you insist.”

You handed him his cane, which he took begrudgingly, and helped him go through the motions of closing down the lab for the night— or morning, you guessed. The sound of his footsteps and cane alongside yours made for a lovely orchestra for the doves as you walked back to his room.

[captainderyn]

For the 'hit 'em where it hurts' starters: 'I hate the way that I don’t hate you.'

Oooh thank you for sending this in! This is begging for me to write Judy/V in endgame/right after the final mission.

*Usual disclaimer that I don't really know what my ending is going to be for V yet, so this is just stuffing all the bits and pieces together that I like into one ending. No Phantom Liberty spoilers because I haven't played it yet, but spoilers for the final mission of the main game :)

V/Judy: "I hate the way I don't hate you."

--

Judy was drowning beneath the neon lights of Night City.

Once upon a time she'd worn the suffocating anonymity of the city like a cloak, sank into the comfort of not being known, and thrown herself into the violent game the city played with its residents.

Now those same skyscrapers that had once promised opportunity were a neon gilded cage and the faceless anonymity she'd graved threatened to suffocate her.

But more than ever V gobbled up the lights and commotion up like a fire inhaled oxygen. 

Raging, gulping every morsel of fuel into an inferno. Something that would burn bright for only a short time. Her fuse was lit and she was burning, burning, burning.

Something had happened that day that V called Judy from the rooftop of Vik's clinic. That call haunted Judy, snuck into her dreams and rang in her ears. She'd been distracted, searching for something around her apartment, and it hadn't been until the ragged edge to V's voice fully sank in that she'd tuned in.

So yeah, maybe she'd told V to be careful, maybe she'd told V that she'd be home waiting. But what if she'd said something different? Something that would've kept V from doing whatever it was she was planning, something that would've kept V from coming back a shell of who she'd used to be.

There was an emptiness in V’s eyes now. No matter how often she smiled at Judy, it never lit up the rest of her face. Her laughter was hollow, when it came at all. 

She was just going through the motions. Raging through the city wearing the only persona she knew: merc.

With Johnny being gone, Judy would have thought that V would have lit up again. That without the engram eating away at her, she'd come back into the voraciously lively woman that Judy had met before the heist.

But the Johnny Problem hadn't seemed to be a problem at all. V mourned Johnny like she lost her closest friend, like she'd lost part of herself.

It came to a head in V's apartment, the one she'd unceremoniously moved all her stuff into after coming back from Arasaka Tower. V sat in a plush chair in the corner of the room, lacing up her boots. Or had been, but now they lay half laced, as she said the same words over and over again that drove Judy insane:

"I can't leave Night City, Judy, this city is part of who I am."

She hated that phrase, the excuse that V always fell back on. This city had eaten her up and spat her out so many times. There was nothing good in this city left to stay for but V just wouldn't get it.

"I hate this." Judy finally snapped, "I hate that I can't bring myself to hate you when you do this every single time." Judy ducked her head, the chromatic curtain of her hair sweeping over her eyes. She hoped it would mask the way her lips twisted, the way her eyes burned white-hot with tears.

She whistled out a hissing breath from behind her teeth, trying to pour concrete into her words to bolster them, "I want to hate you so much. You are a goddamn ticking time bomb and you made me love you. I could be halfway across the country by now, living outside of this stupid fucking city, but you've tethered me here and I'm going to be here until all that's left of you is an alcove and I'm going to have to pick up the pieces."

The words rushed out, so many armed with a viscous stinger. A deep part of her wanted the words to hurt, wanted them to land like glass shards in V's heart the way that the thought of losing her wedged its way into Judy.

V sank into the chair, eyes wide. Her jaw set. "I never asked you to love me. I've never asked you to stay."

"We talked about leaving!" Judy gestured out towards the skyline before locking her arms around herself, hugging herself in a vice of her own making, "After all this was over, we talked about leaving and yet we're still here."

It wasn't fair, not really, to pull this from the water beneath the bridge. Out of nowhere. But she'd woken up to V in the bathroom again this morning, wiping blood from the corner of her mouth with a towel, looking like hell and with it brought the ticking clock crashing back down onto her.

V stared at her in silence, eyes darting across her face.

Judy sucked in a shuddering breath.

"I think I made a mistake."

If V wouldn't pull the ripcord, then she'd do it herself. Pull her walls back up inch by agonizing inch.

"Jude, what do you mean? Where is this coming from?"

V tilted her head, the rust-worn dog tags around her neck clinking together. Judy stared at those, used those as a bolster as she grit her teeth and pushed forward. Each word fell measured, like stepping on ice lightly to make sure it wouldn't break before putting your full weight on it.

"I'm just...I'm starting to realize that I've never felt right here."

The silence V held for Judy to speak, the quiet patience that Judy had once adored when she was rocked to the core from Evelyn's death and just needed to let words lose grated on her. She'd flung daggers at V with her words, why wouldn't she fling them back? Why wouldn't she make this easier?

"I thought I liked being one among the many. Anonymous. It felt safe for me. But none of that was real. But now I look at this city and I feel..." She rung her hands together, running her thumbs along the ink wrapping across her skin, "It doesn't feel safe anymore, V, I feel alone."

V pushed herself more upright, as if to get up, to come over to Judy. Judy turned half a step away, staring hard out the window and watching V's reflection as she sank back down into the chair.

Leaning her elbows on her knees, V reached out a hand to Judy, "You have me."

And there it was, the crack in V's voice that Judy had been fighting to get. The first chip that would make the rest of this so much easier. She ignored V's outstretched hand, crossing her arms over her chest instead.

"Yeah, I guess. For a little while longer." Her stomach flipped as she spoke into existence the inevitability. The day when she'd wake up and V wouldn't. When she'd have to put her name on a cold concrete niche.

She'd always kept time for herself in phases. Each one ending when she pulled the plug, meeting every disappointment and home-that-wasn't-really-a-home by pulling away from it before it could leave her. This phase ending waking up next to a cold body...

"Listen, V," She spoke the woman she'd loved, no, had loved, if she had any control of her emotions, the only way she knew she'd understand: like a business woman. Maybe if she could pull the long-dormant corpo out of V then she could ignore the wet glisten in V's eyes. "You pulled me back into this city far longer than I should've stayed. I need to find something better, something more...stable."

She didn't pull the corpo out of V. She pulled tears, running thick and hot down V's cheeks in silent streams. It should have twisted a knife in Judy, she should have begged to take the words back. All it did was wash cold relief through her. The more irreparable she left these pieces the less it would hut when she inevitably stopped hearing from V, or worse, received the call that she was too scared to hear.

"I don't want you to disappear, Jude, not now. I need you, I love you. Please." V sucked in a ragged breath, choking down what sounded painfully like a sob. "I've lost everyone else, please don't make me lose you too."

But there was no reconsideration, no miracle 'I'll come with you. Let's get out of this city'. Judy didn't even know if she'd have wanted it even if V had offered. In fact, some coiled part of her eased at the thought of leaving it all behind.

Leaving the brilliantly vibrant women in front of her behind and getting out of the radius before she went nuclear, just like every other good thing in Night City did.

"You have your place in this city, let me find mine outside of it." Judy looked to the ground so she didn't have to look at V's face as she delivered what she hoped would be the fatal blow, "It's been a nice phase, V, you've meant so much to me. But it's just a phase that's destined to end, just like everything else."

V muffled a sob in her hand, drawing her knees to her chest and folding in on herself. She kept her fist there, pressed against the lips that Judy used to kiss with such giddy reverence, and stared hard out the window until her tears were silent tracks down her cheeks.

"Okay." V finally said in the soft rustling of Judy grabbing her things, tossing them haphazardly in a bag, "I...I'm sorry, Jude."

Judy didn't know what to do with that, didn't know where that fit in with the broken pieces of their relationship she'd just strewn across the floor. So she slung her back over her shoulder and let the door hiss behind her in a quiet click of finality.

[brellafaun]

in a black out by hamilton leithauser is the Anywhere But Here song to me actually. not gonna do a full lyric breakdown with my thoughts, but here are some highlights:

"midnight where we used to dance/underneath the ugly halogen lamps/oh, it all went away so fast/in a black out": this SCREAMS diego and vik to me. them sneaking out, playing shows in the middle of the night- all to be torn apart by reginald in one fell swoop when he forced diego onto patrol and viktor away to france. do you think they ever reminisced? do you think they ever wondered if the other missed being wild and young? do you ever think that one of them kept a copy of their vinyl, swearing that they'd throw it out but never going through with it?

"we'll wait for the year/when the tide comes/rolling over the rails": the separation. years pass by after the prime-8s break up, and they don't see each other until they're reunited and diego lashes out. the next time they see each other, it's not as siblings. it's the kraken and the white violin. two forces of nature, unstoppable force versus immovable object. do you think that for a split second, either of them remembered a different kind of music? one that didn't bring death and discord, but brotherhood?

"now you're sleeping in the back/of a speeding yellow cab/throw a kiss goodbye to all of that": ough the BITTERNESS. self-explanatory. viktor gets in the cab and doesn't look back. the estrangement becomes final. the prime-8s are gone. did he fall asleep, or was he too haunted by the betrayal to rest? did diego ever remember, or did the rumor keep him from realizing why they drifted apart?

i'm genuinely a little tempted to write a songfic based off of this, but the sweet tooth au is my main priority aside from school atm. if i did, it'd probably end up as a hybrid between the comic-verse and the show- i love david and elliot's characterization of them too much lol

[wildfallproject]

Campaign Summary's (1/4)

The following is a summary of a finished Campaign of D&D 5e which unfolded within Wildfall...

Wildfall Eclipse | 30 Sessions + Epilogue

Far into the Whitedrape wastes sits Vik, a city, like a pen, corralling the desperate northerners into the blackmarble mountainside. The common people forced to fend for themselves as the resources that were once abundant have long been consumed; exploited and destroyed by the fearful aristocrats of the Oikos Ward. The "prophetic, or godly tied" rulers, the Simirinov family, have placed the city into a draconic rule of law since the very start, using their Wardens as hounds against the common people below. Those outside of the ruling class have banded together within the snowed-in Favela's, founding a northern hospitality despite the Simirinov's violent presence. Faith, Promises and Punk-ish attitude are the only things that keep you alive in the dark north.

PC's (The Lichendogs)

Finn (Hadozee, Drunken Master Monk)

Lumen (Drow, Soulknife Rogue)

Juliette (Human, Wildfire Druid)

Melody (Half-Elf, Life Cleric)

Legacy (Humunculus, Clockwork Sorc/Creation Bard)

Thrown into the fray at the footsteps of a Hitao Stalf, towers dedicated to free heating for the misfortunate, the group were unwillingly pulled in the midst of a mass conspiracy. A Gang known as the Death Mistresses, A Pseudoscientist Wizard, the Royal Family, a Grand Conservatory, all working with or against something from the Otherside, a being able to pull on the strings of emotions and takeover the mind suddenly; the being? Legacy's previous Patron and Fey witch, Lene-Scarlett. Backstabbed by her Unwilling Coven in the Fey-reflection of Vik. Lene was severed from her body, having her mind unknowingly scattered to the Material plane, while her body endlessly rots in the Feywild. For a stretch of time she was satisfied twisting the emotions of the royal family and acting as a surrogate god to them, but now is severed from them aswell. The Old Queen Amelia's ritual managed to protect her and her children's mind from her twisting, but now Lene demands a new body again, turning her sights to someone more apt to her warping. Legacy, a body and mind without soul is her new target, and is happy to exact revenge on the ruling family and their city, who banished her again.

Fending off the twisted emotions of a rival gang leader under Lene's grasp and saving the city from near destruction, the group, now crowned The Lichendogs, turned to work tenuously with the Old Queen once again, both determined to finish this once and for all. However, with most of the group being those from the Favela's or Exurbs of the city, they were plenty familiar with the cruelty of the Simirinov line and kept her at a safe distance; only working together when necessary. Lumen and Juliette, a punk from the Favela's and a reactionary princess from the Oikos found something unique, something Lene could use against them, yes, but unique none the less, a young love. Finn and Melody reunited with their lost families, freeing them from prison or reconnecting after many years. Legacy found purpose, both as a unprecedented life in the World, but aswell a friend to all those that were damaged by Lene's torment. And Lene? though she is doomed to live until the near-very end of time, her mind is stuck in a endless dream within Legacy. Ultimately, getting what she wanted after all these years, but not the way she expected, the two are now one but she is not in the drivers seat.

#dungeons and dragons#dnd#dnd oc#dnd campaign#dnd5e#punk#gothic#feywild#fae#folk punk#folk#folk horror#drama#worldbuilding#fantasy#writing#creative writing

[evilgabe29]

i recommend taking a look at this real quick otherwise you might be confused

ill put this on the daily writing list, i also cant focus enough to edit it right now so i might post an edited version later

oh and ill start calling the wip magic space prospectors (MSP) since i cant think of anything better right now

MSP Chapter 3 : Takeoff

Vik left their room properly dressed, ring spike on their belt and coat a bit too big hung on them perfectly, well except for the sleeves that needed to be rolled up so that they didn't get in the way. 

Vik still wasn't used to being on the ship, basically a cube of metal plating haphazardly bolted and welded together. The heaver, Kali, seemed pretty nice. they could get used to them. Based on their conversation Kali was close to losing their housing on Kuralon before getting a job with the port guild and was given guild housing. It was a shame that Vik was so young when they’d lost their place of inhabitants otherwise they might have done the same thing. 

Lan and Nell were sitting on the couch. Nell looked like they were struggling to stay awake, while Lan was in deep concentration about something. Kali was still setting up in their room. 

Kali left their room, they were dressed in a simple blue shirt with the port guild emblem printed on the left breast area. Attempts had clearly been made to scratch off the logo but they seemed to have been ineffective. Their long and black went down all the way to the middle of their back. Vik was a bit jealous. Vik used to have long hair like that but it could get caught in things way too easily so Vik had decided to not deal with it and cut it. Now that they weren't living on the street anymore they might consider growing it out again. 

“Are you alright?” Kali asked, Vik realized that they’d been staring. They blushed furiously 

“Yeah I'm fine,” Vik replied, futilely trying to hide their embarrassment. 

“Cool, anyway do you have any idea when Lan will finally explain why we're here?”

“Nope they’ve just been sitting there, do you want to ask them?”

“Yeah I guess I'll have to ask him, otherwise they might kick us off the lot,” Kali said, walking over to Lan over on the couch with Vik trailing behind.

Kali gently tapped Lan on his head, they jerked back hitting their head on the wall behind them. Lan Yelped, causing some of their coffee to splash onto them.

“Ow, shit, sorry, I get very jumpy when I'm thinking,” Lan said, getting up and wiping themselves off. Nell, who'd been woken up, wore a wide grin, silently giggling to themselves.

“So when are you going to explain what we're doing here?” Kali asked, seemingly unphased by the turn of events.

“hum? oh right yeah i forgot that i forgot to do that, uhh i guess we should probably do introductions now. my name is Lanyard Wayne, please call me Lan though,” Lan gestured to Nell inviting them to continue.

“Yeah, I got it, my name's Nellson Wayne, although you're free to call me Nell if you like. im a spiker and Lan here is a dodger” Nell shot a sly smile over to Lan. they seemed to have not noticed.

“I guess I'll go next,” Vik said hesitantly. “My name's Vik, it's not short for anything. i'm a dasher”

“Right, my turn i suppose, my name is Kaladar Pickwick but i prefer to go by Kali. im a heaver as i suppose you already know” 

“Alright now that's over I'll explain what we will actually be scouting for. We will be looking for a white moon.” Kali and Vik both grew silent. Kali was the first one to speak up.

“Are you insane? We only know of two Keno moons and both have been in pieces when we found them, what makes you think we can find another one?” Kali said. Vik just nodded in agreement they didn't know much about cosmography but to their knowledge most of the areas around the solar system had been thoroughly mapped out. The only hope of finding another white moon would be to go outside that range and lose contact with civilization. It didn't sound particularly like the best idea but they kept their mouth shut till they got all the facts.

“Yes, I know that. But there has been evidence that Aothos that orbited Aramis was whole while modern humans were alive. That's why we have so many legends about the sky falling apart. And we also found pieces of Melanus in the ring. So scientists have theorized that Melanus was wandering like many we have seen. What was I talking about again?” Lan abruptly stopped their torrent of words in confusion.

“Why were we looking for a Keno moon?” Vik said in a small voice.

“Oh right that. I just want to examine an untouched specimen. Oh and I guess it'll break the economy but that's irrelevant. There's also a chance that if it is orbiting another planet there's a chance that there would be life on it. There are a few theories I want to test when it comes to non-humans and if they can also be Kenek” Lan looked so excited by the prospect, Vik couldn't say no to them. And by the looks of things neither could Kali.

“I…see” they said slowly “well I guess I don't have any other option. Are we going to take any jobs while we're looking for the thing? Because chipping pisces off the engine when we need to pay for things doesn't sound like a long term solution”

“You know, i didn't intend on it but now that you mention it that does sound like a good idea” Lan said walking over to the kitchen area and pouring themself another cup of coffee

“Anyway we need to get going soon so let me explain how the ship operates, come here” Lan beckoned both Vik and Kali over to the big white rock that was bathed in yellow flame. Rods made of some kind of white metallic substance pierced through the boulder at various  angles, connecting it to the ship and rendering it imobile.

“This here is our engine, it is just one big chunk of keno. It is of 256 grade M, you know what that means right?” Lan asked to their confused faces. 

“Lan,” Nell said, glaring at Lan.

“Right, right, I'll explain it later. All you need to know is these rods here make it so any Kenek induced property the the engine is succumbed to the rest of the ship will respond as if the property was applied to it as well. Does that make sense? Any questions?” Vik hesitantly raised their hand to just above shoulder height.

“Uhm what are those rods made from?” 

“Ah right. The rods here are made from small keno shards that have been melted down and were mixed with some iron to make kenosteel. It's not the most creative name but I didn't come up with it. Anyway Kali, would you like to do the honors?” they gestured Kali over to the engine. They approached and pleased their hand gently on the stone. Nothing happened.

“Althight Vik, your turn. You know how to make things accelerate in reference to other objects right?” Vik hesitated, they were pretty sure they knew how. But what if they got it wrong, what could happen? Vik slowly stepped over to the engine and gently rested their hand on it.

Vik’s senses exploded, they could feel the immense power running through the rock. Vik struggled to focus, what were they doing again? Right the, the thing, right.

Vik took a small piece of the Athos, even that tiny piece was more Athos they’d ever touched let alone used. They focused on the landing pad below their feet. Using that as reference they multiplied the acceleration of the ship tenfold although it was still zero at the moment, the command clicked and the small pieces of Athos that they’d taken were returned back into the pool.

“Are you done?” Lan asked, as Vik stumbled back from the engine gasping. 

“Yea- yes” Vik said, finding themself a seat on the couch.

“Cool, good work, Nell our turn,” they both walked over to the engine, touching it. The ship suddenly jerked up at an insane speed, and the speed kept increasing. Nell who was the only one that wasn't completely squished against the ground reached up to touch the engine, the fire around it suddenly turned Cyan, despite it being violently yellow just moments before.

“Vik, by how much did you multiply the acceleration?” Lan asked, picking themselves off the ground.

“Uhmm…ten?” Vik whispered, almost inaudibly.

“I see, that's kind of impressive actually, but for reference usually you should only do it around two when we're taking off. Either way you did good, better than I expected actually for your first time.” they took a sip of their coffee 

“Anyway, welcome to the great nothingness, that everyone agrees is actually a whole lot of something. Yes, that is the full official name, research papers have gotten quite lengthy over the years. Anyway Now that we’re here we can take in the view.” Lan and Nell walked over to the front of the ship and unhooked a big metal panel spanning the entire width of the ship, revealing a large pane of glass. They hooked the panel to a spot under the window probably to keep it from moving around when flying.

The sight was beautiful, sure Vik had seen the night sky but the great nothingness was truly something else. 

Kali finally picked themselves off the ground, rubbing their head.

“Is that how that normally works?” they asked.

“Well we haven't actually had a dasher on board before. This is only the second time we’ve flown theo since she was built, i'm surprised it stood up to that crazy acceleration”

“I see, where to then?”  

“I uhh didn't think that far ahead” Lan scratched the back of their head. “Any suggestions?”

Kali sighed.

“Lets get over to Kuralon. They have a better market for mercenary work than Artagan,” they said, taking a seat next to Vik on the couch and taking a swig of their flask.

@ohnoitsslime @kaylinalexanderbooks @theeccentricraven

@illarian-rambling @beloveddawn-blog @caligusabs

@weird-dork37 @ratedn @leahnardo-da-veggie

@you-need-not-apply @elsie-writes @fwoofz

@fallenrain40

@mr-orion @squarebracket-trickster @the-ellia-west

[malka-lisitsa]

❤❤❤❤

Send me ❤ on anon and I’ll compliment someone at random!

@petrovawitch girl as stated I HATE sibling/child OC's and YET there you are existing in my head rent free. I love Vik so much shes so well put together and I like how youve covered your bases in the lore. Your writing style also somehow flawlessly suits her and IDK how you do it but im glad I woke her lazy ass UP.

@devilfated we have yet to write but from what I have seen of your Klaus on my dash I am very very excited to get some kind of interaction going with you. I can't wait to throw Katherine to his mercy.

@taintedbloodlines All of your muses that I have seen have been SPOT. ON. and I just have so much respect for someone that can consistently do their muses justice. WE NEED MORE INTERACTIONS.

@invitisalvatore Your take on Damon is so unique and interesting and thats what drew me to him right away. I love how youve kept his essence but managed to give him a completely different back story that sounds so interesting and has had such an impact on him as a person.

[the-archangel]

The opening and closing are brain worm that refused to go away until I wrote them down, so this is the word equivalent of a quick sketch I suppose!

--

“So the satellite exploding, that was you?”

“Mhm.”

“…and the pall of smoke over Arasaka tower, the cops and everything, that was you as well?”

“Erm, yeah I guess.”

The whole collapse of Arasaka, like, all of it, you’re telling me that was you?”

“S’pose.”

“By yourself?”

“Nah, Johnny was there too prolly more than me, and Rogue and Waylon, couldn’t’ve done all that by myself.”

“Huh, OK.”

Kerry had finally persuaded V to tell him about what happened that night and had sat there for the last couple of hours looking, in turn, incredulously and proudly at his mainline.

It had been a difficult few months, Kerry could only watch as V became sicker and less able to look after himself. The merc work dried up when he became too sick – and therefore unreliable – so Kerry looked after him at the villa, kept him active, made sure he was fed and that he drank enough, kept the fixers off his back, sat in the shower with him when it was all too much. Then, Kerry had to go to the studio one afternoon and V disappeared, left a message saying he was on a job and that was the last Kerry saw of him for two weeks, other than a cryptic phone call the next day.

That was the day the satellite exploded, that the tower fell, and that Arasaka was effectively wiped out. Kerry had a feeling that it must be something to do with where V had gone, even spent a couple of days searching around the streets near the tower hoping to find him, but V had taken himself to the Aldecaldos to mend, the separation of himself from Johnny had been more traumatic than he could’ve imagined, for a few days he could barely remember who he was and for a few weeks after that sadness would sometimes overwhelm him, but he felt ready to go home after a couple of weeks and Kerry finally got the call he’d been waiting for,

“Hey Ker, can you come get me?”

Kerry didn’t ask any questions then, he was just happy to have V back, albeit a sadder, thinner, less joyful version, but that was four months ago now and with them in their new condo, and V king of the Afterlife things should be looking good – except of course that V was still sick and was clearly planning something.

-

The morning V left, Kerry coped with it the only way he knew how, by pretending nothing was happening. He might’ve hugged his mainline a little tighter, spoken more openly than he was used to and found it difficult to look him in the eye, but everything was completely normal. Maybe V would have told him what was going on if he had asked, but that would have made it real, so he carried on in blissful ignorance, not even turning as the AV rose towards the sky for fear of the tears running down his cheeks never drying up.

-

What happened at the Crystal Palace is all over the feeds, Kerry has spent the night either glued to his holo waiting for news, or staring up at the now dark spot of the sky where the casino should be. He tells himself that V is the best solo there ever was, if this is his doing then he’ll be fine, whatever the plan was it clearly worked since the feeds are full of stories from evacuated guests telling how the lights went out when all the computers crashed.

For a week, Kerry barely sleeps, doesn’t eat at all and sits alone, waiting for news, good or bad he just needs to know.  After a further week, where Kerry had finally called Vik and Misty for help and is on nine different kinds of medication but at least eating again, he gets a mysterious message from an unknown number that just says, ‘Mission was a success, await further info.’

So he waits, for twenty-six more days he waits. Despite its vagueness the message gave him hope, somewhere out there V was alive. He manages to pick up his guitar again, though what comes out is utter scop, he even manages to do some writing, but what emerges is so personal it will never see the light of day. He buys things for the condo, a new bed, rugs, plants, subconsciously preparing for V’s return.

Finally, forty-one days, six hours and fourteen minutes since they last hugged on the balcony, the message arrives, ‘A car will be arriving shortly to convey you to your destination.’ Vague as ever, but enough.

The cigarette gets hastily stubbed out and Kerry rushes to get his first shower in, well he’s lost count as it goes but it’s been a while. He changes into track pants and one of V’s old shirts and grabs his jacket, piles some clothes into a bag and waits, unsure of what to do next. Fortunately, he doesn’t have long to wait, Del is downstairs so Kerry bolts to the elevator cursing at its slowness.

It’s dark by the time the car reaches its destination, Kerry lost track of where they were a long time ago, but it’s nowhere that he recognises. A huge, non-descript metal building miles from anywhere, no signage, no windows. A white-coated bland-faced doctor meets him at reception chattering about something or other, asking him to sign forms which he does without reading them and leads him down winding corridors before finally opening a door and walking away.

Kerry enters the gloomy room cautiously, his Kiroshis take a while to adjust to the lack of light but a bed can be made out against the far wall so he heads towards it quietly gasping as he sees the sleeping figure lying there. “V…” he breathes, rushing the final few feet and kneeling at the man’s bedside.

He runs the back of a calloused finger over the cleanly-shaved cheek and brings the tips of his fingers down through the tangled mess of his hair, pushing away stray strands from his face as he goes. Those goddamn beautiful eyes slowly open and crinkle adorably at the sides as he smiles, “Ker…” the voice is small and rough but unmistakably V.

-

After two nights of Kerry sleeping precariously on the edge of V’s bed - despite there being a perfectly serviceable second bed in the room – V is well enough to sit in a chair and is looking forward to going home at the end of the week, albeit in a wheelchair and rattling with a dozen different forms of medication.

“You’re all good now? Gonna be stuck with you for the rest of my life and all that shit?” Kerry asks hopefully.

“Mhm,”

“And the unscheduled rocket that took off, that the feeds were all over, that was you?”

“I guess.”

“All the shit with the Crystal Palace blowing, put it right out of service, that was you too?”

“S’pose.”

“By yourself?”

“Yeah, yeah I did it by myself.”

“Shit V, I’m the proudest man alive, but tell me you’re gonna give it a rest now.”

“Course Ker, well, for a while anyways.”

[morganlefaye79]

Can I get 1 for everyone; 15 for Vicco; and 17 for Joris pls?

Thank you for the ask 💜. Those are going to be fun!

You can ask me more questions here.

Demons of War: Is there a job that has left a permanent mark on your OC?

We're going for the sweet angst again 🤣

Valaire: He killed as was his job as an assassin, many people. He regrets most of them, all of those left a mark on him. When he became a merc he always tried to get the best outcome without killing, if he ccould. But the one kill that left him with a deep scar was the hit on the parents of his future wife. This was also the hit that made him question his life for the first time, but more would follow.

He didn't know who his victims were and he only found out that this particular kill were Faye's parents when they were already married. So he kept his mouth shut and never told her. Until he thought he would die and had a goodbye email prepared that was sent to her while he has fallen into a coma.

They stayed friends after their divorse in 2078, when he married Kerry instead, since it was a convenience marriage from the start, but she never could forgive him that he killed her parents.

Vicco: Let's see if I can write around it that I don't need to use TWs 😬

With Jackie's help, Vicco cpuld make a name for himself as a thief and merc. When Faye got pregnant, he wanted a better life for his child (Kilian wasn't born yet) and started to take every gig he could get his hands on, even the very bad ones.

The gig he took was actually simple, go in, steal a car, ride out.

He was warned beforehand from several mercs to not take that one, but he didn't listen.

He went into the garage, which was quite big found the car and was nearly sure to succeed as he felt something hitting his head.

After 2 weeks Maelstrom released him, they didn't even had the mercy to kill him for which he had begged at some point.

He was brought to Vik who had to remove both hands because they were damaged beyond repair. Vicco now had lost all his rep and both hands. He needed a very long time to recover from that, even when Vik got him 2 cyberhands, the mental scars remained. It costs him his relationship with Faye and his son, who was now born.

Joris: The worst thing about betrayal is that it never comes from your enemies, but from someone you trust to some degree.

Joris felt betrayed by his own uncle, the person that actually raised him. In hindsight he came to the conclusion that his uncle just took him in out of spite, to use him to get back at his brother (Joris' father). Joris was always told that his parents didn't want him because he was "ugly" and a "failure".

When Joris got into a fight, which wasn't initiated by him he lost his arm and had a surgery to replace his spine with a sandevistan. He was berated by his uncle that he was too weak and that he should have had killed the attacker instead of getting nearly killed himself.

Since it was an emergency surgery, the hospital didn't have a sandevistan that fitted him perfectly so he got one that was longer as it should have been, which causes Joris back pain and is a constant reminder that he was too weak, even though he knows that this isn't true.

Smoke on the Water: What does your OC actually truly think about the sex industry in Night City?

Shitty at best (short answer) The long answer is still that the sex industry in NC is shitty but with more words. It depends on where you work actually, if you're out on the streets you're every day at risk to not survive that day either by clients or gangers that think you need to do them a favor. They highly agree with Judy, that every single sex worker, even if not "useful" at that moment should be able to join the Moxes so that they have at least some kind of protection. Especially those on the streets. Difficult are those that work in dollhouses, brothels, etc. that are owned by gangs. They are safer, as long as they make money, but they are still threated poorly. Vicco was on the streets, that's where they started their "career" as a joytoy, they were just lucky that they knew how life on the streets works, most don't. Besides this they also were a merc sometimes still taking gigs when the chance was given. So they can fight back in extreme situations if everything else fails.

They never worked in a dollhouse or brothel so they can only refer to things they'd heard from victims and others so they avoided this step from the start. They were very popular with their clients and they got more and more clients by recommendation until they could stop going out on the streets. All his clients could now call them and make an appointment.

They joined the Moxes at some point and took gigs from them when a score had to be settled. They do gigs for sex workers at a far lower rate than they would normally get.

Sex workers are also far more endangered to get addicted to drugs and/or alcohol and the suicide rates are rising every year.

Under the Bridge: If your OC is a netrunner, what does their interface look like?

I turned this question into a little practice exercise.

This is Joris' portable interface on his cyberdeck, I could have made it better probably with more time, but I think it turned out well enough to show. If you're curious, here is the clean one:

*disclaimer: Joris didn't give milk to Nibbles, he is just a stinker. And yes in my hc Nibbles is male, because my stinker is male as well.

[existentialmagazine]

Review: Telling Secrets’ new pounding alternative-rock single ‘Fall Behind’ tells the story of tumultuous change and frustrations

Telling Secrets like many upcoming bands was realised way back in the pandemic of 2021, stemming from the sole architect Vik Kovacs. As somewhat of a nomad musician, Kovacs was born in Budapest, Hungary, before growing up in the UK, moving between London, Surrey, and Manchester, and later travelling to Los Angeles where he currently resides. Now looking to “raise the bar for the modern rock genre”, Telling Secrets share their newest offering ‘Fall Behind.’

The bombastic soundscape of ‘Fall Behind’ doesn’t waste any time in making itself known from the second you press play, an all consuming and thunderous approach that wraps you around its vast feel, tumultuous velocity and lingering reverberation. From the opening’s frenzied drums to the shredding electric guitar strums and emphatic riff, ‘Fall Behind’ is relentlessly dominant in making its presence heard and pulling you in for more, a short burst of power and control before simmering down into the verses’ bubbling trepidation. Lulling you into a false sense of security, ‘Fall Behind’ hovers through electronic beats and subdued guitar strums that are still rich and heavy but kept afar, instead slowly building the heightened sound back up through the presence of the soon re-joining slamming drums. Delivering his pained lines atop this with a half sung, half emo-rap embodiment, this downbeat moment allows for Telling Secrets to place his heavy-hearted narrative front and centre of everything without being smothered by the almost overshadowing vigour of the instrumentals abilities. Finally erupting once again back into a chorus high, ‘Fall Behind’ lets it all loose once again, exploding into hard-hitting drums, powerful guitar and a bright unfolding riff, all the while Telling Secrets’ bursts into a sung, euphorically agile chorus range that’s a stark shift from what we heard before. With his words drenched in a very human strain and rawness, you can’t help but feel the exuding emotion behind every line, a gritty and intentionally bare deliverance of it all both in sound and lyricism. As things push forwards for nearing four minutes of harsh but completely addictive sound, ‘Fall Behind’ only continues to get better the longer you listen - and we’d recommend listening to it all.

With many of Telling Secrets’ releases detailing a common theme of change, sole architect Kovacs’ seems to be writing a narrative of a similar nature bundled within ‘Fall Behind’, taking inspiration from the frustrations that he dealt with throughout the processes of moving halfway across the world. As the opening lyric rings out ‘I can’t seem to see, but I’ll keep on going, one day I’ll be free’, this initial link to his own journey feels incredibly clear, yearning for an escape from a seemingly endless process to once again be reunited with simple freedoms. With no end in sight however, further lines like ‘I’ve been holding my tears for way too long now’ keep bottled up inside the growing resentment and overwhelm to be trapped in this way, a desperate desire to be unshackled from this existence. Critical of the world we live in, Kovacs’ continues to sing ‘take me away from this society’ , hoping for a change in what we deem to be normal and simply finding acceptance in everyone. With such a magnitude of change, there’s also undoubtably a mass of severed ties along the way, emphasised through lyrics like ‘keeping account of the losses I’ve dealt’ that seem to reflect on everything and everyone left behind. The seeping edges of a romance also weave their way through the storytelling, clinging to lyrics like ‘fall behind, kiss me at the back of the line’ that leave us wondering how their story will unfold, perhaps kept apart by distance or life’s roadblocks along the way. With multifaceted interpretations for every line, ‘Fall Behind’ manages to not just be captivatingly meaningful, but in many ways relatable to whatever story you see yourself within.

Check out ‘Fall Behind’ for yourself here to enjoy both the dark sound and deeply engaging lyrical matter buried within it.

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

Photo Credits: Unknown

// This coverage was supported and created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator.

[balsamfir-fics]

a hope redefined (part 2)

Genres: angst, post S1 canon, more angst, romance, eventual smut, established childhood crushes to strangers to lovers, post-pining, becoming machine herald (sort of), dad!vik, political tensions, growing up, the human condition, some fluff

Pairing: Viktor/AFAB Reader

Warnings: series will have eventual smut, mentions of difficult pregnancy/injury/civil war. this prelude mentions spicy activities. she/her pronouns, but no use of YN.

Summary: Viktor shouldn’t be alive.

He shouldn’t have survived the blast of the Council attack, and even if he did his sands of time should have soon run out. And yet here he stands, part man and part machine, in a future he never planned for and an augmented body he never expected to have.

With no template to follow, Viktor forges a new path towards happiness as he grapples with reconciling the man he once was and the man he could become. Complicated as this path may be, he knows better than to waste an opportunity to spend his remaining years with you, the person he’s kept in his heart ever since you were children. Amidst the chaos of an antebellum Runeterra, Viktor finds his freedom, his future, and his family -- retelling these events through vignettes and letters to his daughter.

Chapters: Prelude | Part 1 | Part 2

Chapter Word Count: ~6.2k

Author Notes: Unedited. Threequel and final part to a hope never forgotten and a hope at risk. This can be read independently of its predecessors, though reading those first will better contextualize Viktor and YN’s relationship.

Little bird, my Robin,

I’m not sure if you quite understand what a charming little one you are. I admit your burbling is beyond my comprehension despite my best efforts, but even when you are cranky and tired and screaming at us at the top of your miniature lungs, I somehow manage to find you so precious. (Though, of course, your mother and I fervently long for the days when you will allow us to sleep; I have never known this depth of frustration and I was known, before you arrived, for terrible sleep schedules).

Mama and I, we have had quite the story. I’ll tell you about it one day when you’re better able to understand what I’m saying to you, but for now I want to get into the practice of writing you letters in the same way she had written and saved many for me. I will, of course, be much better than your mother at communicating the contents and intents of each letter to you in real-time, so that you grow up only knowing love and never knowing loss. For now, I write this first letter to you. You’ll learn about the things I will tell you later on again, in history books perhaps or in your studies. But it might be interesting for you to learn about them directly from me, as well, so that you may learn about how the things in history-books tend to have real impact for real people.  

Robins are cheerful little birds, signs of hope and promise after seasons of strife. You, my dear, were born in a particularly difficult season, one that Mama and I continue to live in now. To best explain the story of how you came to us despite all the odds, I suppose I should start at the very beginning.

Now that I think about how I’d like to begin describing these events to you, it strikes me that I’ll likely only give these letters to you when you come of age and maturity; I don’t think these are topics that you should learn when you first become reasonably literate. We will store these in a safe place for you, so that the pages are fresh and strong when you first look upon them; rather than crumbly, yellowed, and strained. 

I digress. Where was I? Ah, yes.

It starts, my Robin, with a disaster that builds into tragedy. In the midst of it all, I was blissfully unaware of what transpired; Mama bears the brunt of the emotional fallout from this time so you must always be respectful to her, because I unfortunately had been quite rude to her in the immediate aftermath of this disaster. I’ve been atoning it for it this whole time, my dear, but I do have a secret: I think you are a large part of my absolution, especially because whenever Mama is irritated with me these days she tends to look at you, see how much you look like me, and is a little less grumpy after basking in your company. Let’s keep it that way, little Robin.

(I fear that your feeding schedule and its interruptions to my rest have left my thoughts unsorted, I apologize for the side-tracks.)

When your teachers tell you about the attack on the council, take care to consider the events beyond words on a page or facts to memorize for a test. We have all been impacted by it, and you are here in part as a result of the things that happened that day. 

It was a tense time. I… was in very poor health, and near the very end of my tether to this mortal plane. Nevertheless, I came to the Council with your Uncle Jayce (who, at them time, was beginning to feel like a stranger to me despite our years of partnership), because he and I wanted peace in a world that seemed to disagree. Imagine! Me, a frail and deteriorating Zaunite, crushing myself under immense guilt, and Uncle Jayce, strong in body and conviction but wavering under the pressures of entire societies. But we were doing what we thought was right; Uncle Jayce had made choices I never thought he would make and we both were seeking the abundant optimism and encouragement we wanted to bring to the world through our research in our younger days.

I’m not sure what they’ll teach you about Jinx. It depends on how the future shapes itself. I’m inclined to think that we are all complex beings that are subjected to chaos both inside us and around us, and even choices we are confident in may have the ability to grow into monstrosities we never anticipated. That happened to your uncle and I; I believe this, too, happened for Jinx.

I’ll spare you the details that you will no doubt learn in school. It was a missile attack, and the outcome was devastating. This was especially so since in those fleeting moments after I spoke to the Council and relayed Jayce’ plans, he and I were filled with that hope we were once so aflame with (and this hope, Robin, was in spite of the anger we incited instantly amongst the Councilmembers). It was radiant, my darling, with the bright light reflecting the explosive aspiration we held in our hearts. As you will know later, of course, everything broke mere heartbeats later. 

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The first thing Jayce noticed was shrill, all-encompassing ringing in his ears. He tried to brush it away with his mind, but his body did not obey this command. Then in a panic he realized he noticed nothing in sight; merely black and grey and clouds billowing. His heart seized; where had he been last?

Finally the picture before him came into focus, in streaks of visibility between billowing, noxious clouds.

The other sensations followed quickly after, assaulting his nervous system with acrid stinging in his lungs, shocks of pain in his body, and the increasing awareness of other sounds beyond the internal ringing. What were those? They were screams of anguish, of pain, and of terror.

As he tried to physically orient himself, Jayce realized he was not where he had been before. Wasn’t he standing? He’d purposely put himself between Viktor and the Council, if only to metaphorically shield his dying friend from the brunt of the Council’s fury. Where was Viktor? Where was —

Mel. Mel! Jayce scrambled to his feet, a feat that took nearly a minute in the confusion but felt like milliseconds. His mind quickly began to sort events into a timeline; he vaguely understood this to be a fight-response, a survival tactic in disaster. There must have been an explosion, judging by the jagged edges of curled steel and broken glass he could see in pockets of clear air. If there was an explosion, it was from outside, given the direction of debris and decay. If it was from outside — Jayce shuddered, all the while staggering forward towards where the window once hang — then Mel had been the first to be hit.

He found her after tripping over objects that should not have lined his path; objects that were pieces of the ornate Council desks, shards of glass, gnarled metal, and also people. He screamed her name, maybe, but he couldn’t hear his own voice. She was slumped over a section of broken desk at an awkward angle, but to Jayce’ relief she appeared whole, if not unconscious and likely severely injured. It was impossible, really, based on what he knew about ballistics and explosives and physics, but he would receive any miracles that the gods would allow. He thought to shake her, but managed to remember that this would be unwise — she might have internal injuries — but he checked for a pulse. With confirmation that she was, in fact alive, he yelled for a medic, before realizing his voice was not the only one doing so. Instead, Jayce then set his jaw and glanced frantically around the room.

The dichotomy between Mel’s relative lack of being harmed and the rest of the room was jarring; the hall was completely unrecognizable and nearly everyone in it had been sent far from their original seats. Then Jayce noticed an odd pattern in the path of destruction; the people closer to the window and the main circle of desks seemed reasonably intact, but the building and furniture in that same radius was most certainly not. Attendants and assistants, most of whom had been standing near the periphery and the elevators, seemed to be in much worse shape (Jayce found his stomach rising in his throat at the sight he saw, but stepped away in time to vomit further away from Mel’s unconscious form); but architectural structures there only saw streaks of soot and flame and far less impact.

A wavering light caught his eye, but he couldn’t be sure if it wasn’t just the reflection of flickering fire or something emanating from the golden patterns on Mel’s back. He ignored this, instead lifting Mel’s body onto his shoulders with as little disturbance as possible. Jayce brought her past the elevators, past the carnage and into an unaffected corridor deeper in the building. He lay her to rest by the wall, whispering for her to stay alive even if she couldn’t hear him, then stumbled back into the fray.

Viktor. He had to find Viktor; no matter what miraculous defense Jayce suspected Mel had mounted, Viktor had already been on the precipice of death.

Jayce first spotted the mangled remains of Viktor’s crutch; scanning that area, he found his friend crumpled beside debris. He quickly took stock of the smaller man’s injuries, wincing at what he recognized as serious impalement, but found Viktor’s condition reasonably safe enough to move out of the chaos. With Viktor’s impossibly thin frame in his arms (and taking care not to jostle the debris embedded into his friend’s body), Jayce struggled back to the corridor. Flashes of the terror around him seared themselves into his mind that night; he later remembered Councilwoman Kiramman lying beneath a frighteningly large panel of destroyed stone, or pieces of Bolbok lying far away from the Councilman’s main frame, but he focused on getting Viktor to safety before returning to assist other less-injured people with rescue.

He rode in Mel’s ambulance, of course, in part because Heimerdinger had materialized shortly after the blast to watch over Viktor. The rest of the evening came only in fragmented blurs; Jayce suspected a concussion, but considered himself to be lucky if that was the only injury he would get away with. He kept Mel’s hand in his and made it a point to be grateful for the fact that it was still warm.  

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The peace we called for was obviously fractious. We hadn’t known then that Silco was no more and that Jinx was behind the attack. Rather, I knew nothing. I only came to later, then promptly entered the darkest fury of my life as I only knew that I’d been betrayed by Jayce through your mother’s assistance. This, in hindsight, I regret, but nevertheless there will always be a part of me that wonders what might have happened if the Hexcore had been destroyed completely — and a part of me that secretly longs for that alternate universe to the suffering so many have endured since then.

Of course, I am now mostly grateful for that ‘terrible decision.’ My mixed feelings do not negate the very real truth that I can be your father today because I was saved by your mother and Jayce. I have decided to not let this gratitude go to waste, but it shall forever be a cautionary tale for others. 

In those first few weeks, Zaunites and Piltovans fought fiercely, though in smaller, renegade groups. We were all fearful that either side would escalate into all-out civil war. It was a very real risk, back then. With nobody sure who started what, and families vengeful for their own fallen, any slight overreaction could have blown up the whole powder keg. We hadn’t known that there were greater threats beyond, but we could only see what was in front of us, what was local. And yet we couldn’t remember, for some reason, the shared origins of our two cities. We only saw the differences and the hurt.

Many people made bad decisions then. In fact, I was quite worried about those that your Uncle Jayce might make with his power and influence. We are lucky he’d chosen to attempt peace before the attack, because even if Jayce struggles to find the right answer, he does, fortunately, try his best. It’d been his decision to offer Silco what he wanted, and in those early weeks, Uncle Jayce tried to hold to that as much as he could even in the face of dissenters. I imagine he was still reeling from his own sins, and trying to hold onto his own hope — or better yet trying to emulate Auntie Mel’s measured stances. Regardless, we had a fragile stability despite many citizens entering into altercations. Or should I say that the ups and downs averaged out to something more even? It seemed that every other weekend we were promised a war between the two cities, and there were many weeks where we came very close. I think it is a miracle that the many battles fought didn’t tip over into much longer, formalized conflict; at least, between our two cities. We knew it would not hold for long, however, and when your Auntie Caitlyn’s mother finally succumbed to her injuries a few weeks later, we were incredibly concerned. 

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You couldn’t recognize the woman before you. What happened to the little sister figure who you’d watched grow up? Where was the fierce, intelligent girl who (like you) sought to break free of the shackles of upper-class decorum and instead work for a better future? No, the person staring back at you from the printed posters around Piltover was someone hardened by loss. It was someone who cut their teeth on the blades of their own hurt, and used their pain to fuel their development.

Caitlin had always been a serious markswoman, but you would never have expected her to rise in the ranks so quickly. How much if her meteoric rise had been due to the absence of her mother’s influence, or her own dogged pursuit of power, you’d never know. She was too young to be a sheriff, you thought. Not because she was immature but rather because she should have had more time to enjoy her twenties. You supposed that there were much smaller spaces for leisure and entertainment in those times; though most life went on as a hushed normal at the surface, the simmering resentments and fears underneath were never far from mind.

While the cities had not yet sought the other’s total destruction, festivals and the like had been cancelled for safety concerns. Fewer people wandered in the streets without company, especially after dark, but people still needed to eat and to sleep and to live, so children likely hadn’t noticed the suspicion and concern in adults’ eyes.

You glanced to Caitlyn’s right, surveying her personal hire to her investigation team. Through your father, you’d heard more about this Violet — or Vi, though you’d never met her. You tried to ask Jayce more about what had happened in the weeks leading up to the Council attack, but he’d been tight-lipped and more concerned with preventing societal collapse. It wasn’t possible to blame him, however. Mel was still comatose, though stable, and you knew Jayce was trying to keep Piltovan warmongers at bay while tamping down his own grief and rage. He slipped every so often, particularly if it’d been a bad day and he’d come back from visiting Mel’s bedside. With Viktor long gone to sequester himself away in Zaun, you took it upon yourself to remind Jayce that the previous undercity was not a monolithic hotbed of crime and terrorism. Heimerdinger tried as well, but he, too, disappeared frequently — and you suspected he had gone down into the depths in his own efforts to rebuild peace.

He certainly had no time to tell you about a former prisoner he’d made a tenuous ally of, much less one that appeared to be the sister of the attack’s primary suspect. You squinted at the poster again, frowning in reflection of Violet’s own conflicted expression. Your gaze flicked back to Caitlyn’s hardened gaze, and you realized that both young ladies were wrought with their own grief. In Caitlyn, you saw the tortured guilt of someone who’d long argued with her mother and now broke under her father’s mourning. In Vi, you saw a clearly uncomfortable Zaunite looking for any opportunity to find the remnants of the little sister she once knew, forced to join the Piltovans who had tried to subjugate her. At least, that was the best you could come up with given the shreds of information you knew on this new Caitlin and this stranger Vi.

You had no immediate sympathy for the woman named Jinx, especially not within the first few weeks after the attack when you discovered Viktor’s dance with death and he lay, unconscious and severely injured, in his hospital bed. But your rage needed somewhere to go, and since you were by no means a fighter, you channeled your anguish into providing aid directly. It was just as well; wealth Piltovans were not in any mood for philanthropic deeds, especially if any mention of Zaun was involved — thus you had little fundraising to do. You stayed local in those weeks, helping the poorer Piltovans who might have been targeted in smaller skirmishes, if only to stay close enough for any news of Viktor’s recovery.

You hadn’t expected the extent of his anger when he regained consciousness, but you’d been equally as furious that he’d hidden his prognosis from you until he was finally on death’s door. Viktor directed most of his fury towards Jayce, who knew the risks involved and the threat the Hexcore posed, but you were still surprised when he decided to move out of Piltover and into the new Zaun in the middle of this odd detente.

On worse days, you blamed the mysterious Jinx for your woes, but over time — and as Viktor’s mood began to thaw — you learned more about her through Jayce’ intel grapevine. Now glancing again at Vi’s tortured expression in a fading Piltovan sunset, you considered the splintering of their sisterhood and recognize the heartbreak in that uncomfortable gaze. Could those two (and their team) accomplish what they set out for? You weren’t quite sure. Jayce insinuated that there was a relationship between the two Enforcers, but you worried that the overlap between their investigatory objectives might wear thin. You wrote to Viktor in his absence, relaying your thoughts, but he’d only given inscrutable references to a former mentor of his who he suspected of being involved with Jinx.

Lost in thought on the steps of city center, you didn’t notice when your adoptive father pulls up beside you. Heimerdinger patted your hand, leading you to jump back in shock, but once you realized who it was and settled your nerves, you picked up on the weariness in his face.

"She’s likely a bright young woman,” he sighed, shaking his head in sorrow. “Her sister, I mean.”

You balked at that. “You’ve met Jinx?”

“No,” Heimerdinger replied. “Prior associates, perhaps, but not her. I—“ He paused. “I remember when our two cities were one, and I’ve watched brilliant young minds in both triumph and fail under the circumstances they never asked for.” His expression grew long at that, and you realized he was thinking of Viktor’s own time under his care.

Your wounds still raw, you bristled. Your father knew about Viktor’s death sentence and failing health, and yet he never deigned to clue you in. He’d given you excuses that he was under Viktor’s instructions, but that hadn’t mattered to you. It shouldn’t have mattered to him, and you felt betrayed by your father’s discretion. He seemed to understand where your thoughts drifted, and remained silent for a few beats more.

“My dear,” Heimerdinger tentatively began again. “I am gravely concerned. There are more threats than those from between our two peoples.” He took your hand in his, patting yours gently. “There are those who would take advantage of our strife to bring both our cities to their knees.”

You told him he was being cryptic, and started for the gates of the Heimerdinger Estate. But his words remained in your mind, always at the edge of your uncertainty and concern, and it would not be till much later that the premonition he anticipated would come true. 

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But never mind all that; by the time you read these letters I hope we will be living in a vibrant, thriving world and not one besieged by war. Thus I turn to the silver linings from that period.

I angered your mother very much when I left for Emberflit Alley. I don’t know if we’ll be living there, or at your grandfather’s estate, or somewhere in between, but I hope that by the time you see this you will have been to my little laboratory in the Entresol. I have many fond and not-so-fond memories there, but all the unkind memories are long in the past now that you are in my world and my heart. Your mama visited me as soon as I allowed her to. I recall that reunion with great clarity; it was a very exciting few days back in each others arms, but after the excitement faded away we were still left to grapple with my guilt, her hurt, and an uncertain future. I sent her away several times after that, and moodily so, so if you end up rather impetuous I might be to blame for that part of your personality (though Mama is as well). Still, we’d been apart for so many years that we couldn’t help but keep gravitating back to each other even when we tried to stay away for safety, self-healing, and individual growth. Your mother says she wanted to have you as early as then, but I was in no shape for that.

You see, the reason I’m alive today is because of a peculiar technology and the greatest sin of my life. You’ll likely have seen one of my Hexcores by the time you read this, but the one I’m referring to was the first — and it was corrupted. I carry deep grief as a result of my stubbornness with that Hexcore specifically, and thus I promise to teach you everything I have learned from my mistakes so that you will never have to experience them.

With this one, something was gravely wrong. We hadn’t known that at the time, your Uncle Jayce and I, and it is only in retrospect that we know about the Void and its corruption of this specific Hexcore. Your papa was very foolish back then, little Robin, but I was also quite desperate. This Hexcore wanted to control me, to use me as its vessel, but at first I’d only seen it as a gift. I realized later that it must be destroyed; I asked your Uncle Jayce to do so but after that disaster — that tragedy — your mother asked him to use it to save me. And so he did.

It became a part of me then, a part of my survival and part of my story. But it couldn’t stay; I knew that it would consume me and then I wouldn’t be the papa you will get to know. I learned many things in those months, because I worked hard to figure out a way to stay alive but be rid of that corrupted Hexcore. That’s where I learned to be a surgeon of sorts, and I studied feverishly to find a way out of my predicament. I also continued with engineering, just like your Uncle Jayce, and through the technology we developed I made Blitzcrank what he is. In Emberflit Alley, I built a great many things to help our fellow Zaunites; some things to clean the air more affordably, other things to make work easier for weak bodies, and more to bring prosperity to those who had little of it. Some of Uncle Jayce’ Piltovan colleagues were not pleased about this, and even some Zaunites (who, you should never ever interact with, little one — stay far away from chembarons and their people, even if they are your fellow citizens) truly disliked my work.

All of this progress, however, was not enough to ease my concerns over the Hexcore. Yes, living conditions improved for others, but I never felt safe with that first corrupted prototype. And if I wanted a future — a real one, not just borrowed time — then I needed to be in control of it myself. So with great effort I replaced the void-touched parts with mechanical ones I built myself. That may sound scary, but living with the Void was much more frightening and I couldn’t bear with myself if it endangered your mother in any way. Besides, if you saw those parts you’d laugh; they were clunky and ugly, but by now they’re much improved.

You may have been told a number of things about that time period. Not everything you’ll hear will be the truth, from either your Piltovan or Zaunite friends and teachers. Remember that you are always welcome to ask me or your mother, and we will carefully tell you the truth we witnessed with our own eyes.

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Viktor was backed into a corner. What madness was this? The little Kiramman girl, emerging from the shadows with a hard look etched into the lines of her face, seeking to take him in?

He figured her investigation had turned up his name; Heimerdinger kept Viktor appraised of the topside Enforcers’ campaign against this Jinx, and he knew that it would only be a matter of time before the new sheriff in town connected the man called Singed to both himself and the blue-haired fugitive. It was odd, though, as it had been Caitlyn herself who had provided Jayce and you with a small vial of Shimmer when he stood with one foot through Death’s Door. She would have known about his involvement and his research and how benign it must be, but why would she have been looking for him now of all times, weeks after her campaign was well underway, and weeks after Viktor had sequestered himself in the Entresol with his golem, his tools, and his loneliness?  If anything, Viktor was grateful he’d made it a point to send you back topside when Emberflit Alley became suspiciously quiet. Having you by his side in this specific moment would have been disastrous.

As he surveyed the look in Caitlyn Kiramman’s eye, he knew that she wouldn’t hesitate to put the members of her own circle under surveillance if it would help move along her objectives.  He glanced to his peripherals, noting several cloaked Enforcers circling towards him at the end of the alley. Not ideal, but he would be damned if he was taken in on nothing more than a paranoid suspicion. Now was not the time to be separated from his work in Zaun; with a dogged sheriff on the chembarons’ tails, the innocent civilians of Zaun needed medical assistance without strings attached more than ever.

“I wouldn’t do this if I were you,” he warned, fingers tightening around the latest prototype of his Hexcore-powered staff. (‘It’s a deterrent, not a weapon,’ he’d told you when you first saw it. But he was decreasingly convicted in his own definition; whatever deterrent effect he’d hoped the Hexcore would have seemed not to be working as intended. “I am no traitor, and you of all people should know that.”

“Forgive my inability to take your words at face value,” Caitlyn replied steadily. Her finger remained on her rifle’s trigger; eyes still squinting through the scope. “First you run from Piltover, then I learn you’re one of her—“ The sneer in her voice made apparent to whom she was referring. “—known associates? You’ll need to come with me, Viktor, if you want any semblance of a topside future with Heimerdinger’s daughter.”

He flared up at that; how dare anyone threaten the fragile hope he held onto for decades?! His emotions ran wild and angry, and the Hexcore — damn, he hadn’t yet managed to completely purge his biomechanical connection to it still — responded with its own flicker of crackling energy. Viktor sensed the whole alley tensing at the sensation, and he knew then that there would be no saving his insistence that the Hexcore wasn’t a weapon of destruction.

“I fail to see how I might be a known associate if I’ve never met Jinx,” he replied. It took every bit of his personal pride to keep his temper stable. “So without reasonable suspicion, I believe I will not be joining you.” Movement to his left caught his eye. “And I wouldn’t take another step closer, if I were you,” he warned the Enforcer.

“I have no time to dance, Viktor,” spat Caitlyn. “Lower your staff, now!”

Viktor remained where he stood, amber eyes glaring out at her from beneath the dark fabric of his hood. He kept silent, attuning his senses to the several Enforcers eyeing him warily with weapons raised. He wouldn’t hurt them, not first, and not unless it was a last resort. What he feared was being backed into his final corner.

Caitlyn began to pull on the trigger, a minute movement that Viktor noticed through instinct alone.

So be it. He couldn’t be taken; people needed help and protection, not only from criminals within Zaun but from unwarranted topside aggression. He couldn’t be taken; he needed to continue his work on severing his physical connection to that angry, disturbing Hexcore — months imprisoned would impede any hopes of progress. He couldn’t be taken; his arrest, no matter how unjustified, would irreparably damage Heimerdinger and your reputations by association alone, and he’d worked too hard to let his family, topside or not, be taken from him.

When the Enforcers nearest him lunged, Viktor exhaled, closed his eyes, and allowed the Hexcore to release a burst of pure, radiant energy. Then he ran, ignoring the cries of surprise and fear and squinting past the blinding light he’d unleashed on his adversaries. He bounded past Blitzcrank’s hiding place towards the opening of the alley, beckoned along his golem, and darted into the nearby safe house he’d kept anonymously registered for this purpose.

You’d hear about this, certainly. But Viktor hoped that your faith in him would help you see past the propaganda and widespread fear, and trust in his character. It was a weak hope in fraught times as these, but Viktor hoped nonetheless. 

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Once I was confident that the void was gone from the Hexcore and it could be developed in complete safety, I let Mama stay with me for good, and I stopped pushing her away. She was much happier about that, but we were mostly relieved that I could stay alive, healthy, and strong without the corrupted core. Lots of things happened before then, many difficult things, but I was very happy to be safe for Mama eventually.

Even so, our relief was short-lived. The fragile peace we had was broken by external threats, and many bad things began to happen to everyone in Valoran. These problems are not yet fully resolved, I’m afraid, but everyone in your life is now committed to fixing them for the betterment of your future.

In the midst of the sheriff looking for me and everything being quite scary for the regular people in both our cities, Auntie Mel’s mother was incredibly cross with Uncle Jayce and how he responded to the big disaster. Remember, Robin, Auntie Mel wasn’t healthy as she is now. She was in the hospital, stable but unable to wake or to fully recover, and she was there for many months. Auntie Mel tried to save all of our lives because she believed in diplomacy and peace, and she saved mine even though I imagine many of the other Councillors wouldn’t much care about my life. But while your Uncle Jayce was very angry with Jinx, and very worried about Auntie Mel, Auntie Mel’s mum was even more angry. She wanted revenge, and in Uncle Jayce’ decisions she saw weakness. She interpreted that to be an opportunity; one for her people to exploit. 

It was chaos, little bird. Your grandfather stopped appearing in Piltovan public, too distressed at the warmongering he saw. In fact, your brave grandfather met me often, in secret, to help me care for the injured Zaunites and yes — sometimes Piltovans too — in all the fights that were to come. I, regretfully, had to fight too, as did your grandfather, but we did our best to only do so when the alternatives were worse. I hope that by the time you can read this letter that I won’t need to fight anymore; you deserve a future that lets children play in the streets and enjoy a life without fear.  Where was I? Ah — Ambessa. (That’s Auntie Mel’s mum’s name. I imagine she’ll be in your history books…)

Noxus, where Ambessa and Auntie Mel are from, is a strong but frightening place. I’m lucky I’ve never had reason to visit myself, but they are a rather proud, fearsome people who value strength immensely. Remember when I said that Ambessa saw weakness in Uncle Jayce’ decisions? Whatever Uncle Jayce and his colleagues said was what Piltover was saying, and Ambessa thought that Uncle Jayce was being a bit soft in trying to find the woman named Jinx. As unforgiving as Ambessa is, Auntie Mel is still her daughter; I believe in some sort of way, Ambessa loves Auntie Mel just as much as we love you (although Mama and I will never try to hurt thousands of people for you. You have our promise). Because Auntie Mel was very badly hurt, Ambessa wanted to catch the culprit and felt that a strong military response from Piltover to Zaun was necessary. When Uncle Jayce didn’t do this to the extent she expected, Ambessa brought Noxus down upon our two cities.

This was very scary for everybody; remember, lots of people kept fighting between Piltover and Zaun, too! But of course the most troubling part was that the very rich, very powerful, and often very corrupt were the ones who stayed the most safe through this all; they could afford better medical care or hiding places or all of the above. No, the people getting hurt the most weren’t even the ones behind what happened to me, your uncle, and Auntie Mel on that disastrous day. It was regular people, just like you and me and mum; people who just wanted to eat their meals and enjoy their time together in Valoran like every other day.

In fact, it was humans specifically who suffered most. Unlike your grandfather, or Councilman Bolbok, survival for these regular humans was very difficult. Many sick people were pulled into fights or injured on accident; they often weren’t strong enough to recover, if they didn’t have good health or money or a safe place to live beforehand.

Blitzcrank tried to protect a lot of them, but when I went to these people and helped stabilize broken bones or reattached limbs, it became very clear that what they wanted was their own strength — not to rely on groups with questionable incentives like the chembarons to keep them safe from Ambessa or Enforcers. I started using my new skillset to help them, too, the way I started to mend myself.

Lots of people didn’t like that. People who hadn’t known why I was doing what I was doing thought I was doing very bad things to the people I tried to help; they didn’t understand the benefits of mechanical augmentation and thought I was trying to change people into something they were not. Uncle Jayce was very uncomfortable with it as well, but we didn’t talk much then so I didn’t have to hear him argue with me about it. I was trying to do what he and I wanted all along; use Hextech for the betterment of society. But I understand; progress can be scary and foreign and it was even difficult for us to have Hextech accepted by the public. I didn’t expect most people to accept physical modifications that quickly, but I did often think that many disagreeable opinions were driven by fear and uncertainty.

Mama, you must understand, did the best she could to accept and comprehend my work. She did really well; even if she was unsure about man-machine supplantation, she knew that I was only trying to help people who wanted it. But I made her really mad one day, Robin. I learned a lot that day about how I might perceive my life’s work and discovery, and how others might as well; it was an important experience for me, and I was deeply humbled by her.

Well, I say this now. But I was just as mad at Mama back then. Adults aren’t perfect or smart most of the time, but we do our best. 

[clericofshadows]

OMG your tags <3 this is also how I find out there's a limit lmao

I feel so at home writing them just being together, y'know? it's great. I couldn't resist making Zaeed troll Regis about his whole thing about fashion, and it turned into a fun little game that I might have to write an alternate ending for at this point :). every moment between them is so fun and I love them and their shenanigans. especially kaidan. people would think Zaeed or Regis would be the worst about getting into trouble but no, it's kaidan. and he's proud of that even if he deflects it all the time. if someone catches them in the act in somewhere public or semi-public it's all due to kaidan. fun fact ;).

wren! UGH I love writing her so much she's definitely become a fast favorite of mine to explore. her and EDI was a surprise even to me but after thinking about it for a while I knew I had to make it happen. soon :). really my favorite thing to write is banter and conversations that don't get to happen in canon so it's been fun exploring everyone and reusing dialogue in my own way. as you can see wren's also my way of giving liara the middle finger about her decisions in canon. putting another person in place on the ship so there's multiple "brokers" in action. not getting rid of an obviously valuable ship. and so on. also making wren a little more hands off in the mission because duh she knows the triad is competent. seth isn't likely an OC I'll sculpt because I really need to get Vik and Adrian figured out but when I gave him his last name I also thought to the nomad and kept it for funsies.

what would kaidan's title be... good question <3.

ah brooks. if regis wasn't so tired he probably would have figured you out by now. but for now he's just narrowed eyes about the whole thing.

for the casino bit I wanted to highlight some of my favorite little conversations you can have, and those were definitely the bartender, sha'ira, and jonah. most of the others were kind of "eh" to me but those were fun and I wanted to include them. I also enjoyed adapting other characters' dialogue for zaeed for some of his moments. which boyfriend was he talking about? he doesn't even know.

in game of course it will be one mission after another but in reality I imagine it's a lot more spaced out. let! them! rest! it was fun making Zaeed being the protective bastard he is and also making his feelings on brooks clear. can't wait to get to the reveal scene. oh it's going to be fun.

see the last bit also is inspiring me to write ashley's POV about zaeed. getting used to regis's and zaeed's dynamic without kaidan. trying to figure out his deal and only knowing him from a call or too from in between ME1 and ME2 and stories from Kaidan during ME2. she's used to regis and kaidan, but zaeed adds something different. not bad, but she does wonder how it all started... we'll see if the muses are kind to me during my break. I have wayyy too many ideas about wips and mods lately :D.

okay yeah I can keep rambling but I always love reading your tags and responding to them :).

a night to remember

Sequel to don't ask about Ryuusei. Description: Regis, Kaidan, and Zaeed dress-up to invade Khan's domain at the Silver Coast Casino and learn more about the identity theft plot against Regis.

Paring: Kaidan Alenko/Regis Shepard/Zaeed Massani

Regis put the final touches on his outfit, a pair of cufflinks adorned with both the Spectre and Alliance logos and a chain across his shirt collar, gleaming in the light of their bedroom.  In some ways, he considered formal wear to be another type of armor, another way of masking and protecting himself.

He also enjoys looking damn good, so there’s that too.  

In a sudden burst of inspiration, he knocked Zaeed out of the way in the bathroom and grabbed the pencil eyeliner from the drawer, lining his eyes with a bit of smudge, preferring a more lived-in look over precision.  

Zaeed wrapped his arms around Regis’s body, making the atmosphere in the room even more intimate. Regis turned his head slightly to meet Zaeed's gaze through the mirror as he continued to line his eyes.

“If we weren’t about to go on a mission, I doubt we’d ever make it to the door,” Zaeed teased, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll make good on your promise eventually,” Regis said, putting the cap back on the eyeliner and placing it back in the drawer.  “What about my own ideas?  Remember one of the first nights in this apartment, and I took the both of you apart with only my biotics, you two bare to the world while I was dressed to the fucking nines?’

Zaeed kissed a spot of skin under his ear.  “Oh yes, I do remember.  You can be a sadistic bastard when you want to be.”

“We all contain multitudes,” Kaidan said, leaning in the doorway.  Regis took him in, noticing a bit of nude lipstick and highlighted cheeks, a hint of blush and shadow around his eyes, a beautiful addition to the three piece suit he wore so well.

"That we do, love," Regis replied. "Damn we look good."

"We are going to steal the goddamn show," Zaeed said, leaning in to steal a quick peck on Kaidan's lips before heading towards the bedroom door. "A damn shame we're working this evening.  Would've liked to be able to show off and let loose."

"We can still do that, you know," Kaidan said, linking his arm with Zaeed's. Regis followed behind them. "All part of the mission.”

A whistle and a round of applause greeted them as they walked down the stairs.  Regis preened under the attention, knowing that he was the mastermind behind their ensemble.  “Looking good!” Ashley whistled.  “Almost too good.”

Regis rolled his eyes.  “Isn’t that the whole point?”

“For you, maybe,” Zaeed muttered, keeping himself pressed against Kaidan’s side. 

“I doubt anyone will bother with us once we’re inside,” Kaidan replied.  “All the spectacle of us being there will be lost once we start mingling with the masses.”

“No matter what, we’ll be one hell of a distraction for Brooks,” Regis said.  “Speaking of, where is she?”  He didn’t see her among the crowd.

“Getting ready in the spare bedroom,” Wren said, now sitting at the bar with a colorful drink.  “Myself, Ash, and EDI have volunteered to be your immediate backup.”

“Good team,” Zaeed nodded.  “Are we just waiting on the specialist?” He shuffled on his feet, hands going up to adjust his tie.  Zaeed gave him a pleading look, and Regis let out a resigned sigh, motioning for him to take off the damn thing.  He grinned at him and pulled it off, setting it down in a heap on the coffee table.  There goes that perfect pressing.

Wren nodded, taking a sip of her cocktail.  “Of course, in the world of rich socialites aboard this station, being late is almost expected.  But with you here, Regis, I can’t expect you to abide by that.”

“Being on time is a good thing,,” Regis replied, crossing his arms.  “I doubt the information business thrives on lack of punctuality.”

Wren's lips curled into a sly smile as she leaned back in her barstool.  “As far as I’m concerned, I make the rules.  I have enough agents where it doesn’t matter.  Sometimes being a little late works in our favor, don’t you think?  Panic… fear… all good motivators to get what we want.”  

Regis smirked.  “Fair enough, but I’d like to get a handle on this situation ASAP.  Not exactly fond of someone trying to gain my identity.”

“Of course not.  I’m doing what I can, but this whole thing even has me stumped,” she said, finishing off her drink.  “And I hate being in the goddamn dark.”

“Amen, Wren,” Zaeed said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.  Again, messing up the perfectly pressed suit.

Regis will make him pay for that later.  He knows this kind of shit annoys him…

“Makes you wonder if it's someone close,” Kaidan mused.  “Or at least, someone familiar with our methods.”

“I’ve approached that angle and haven’t come up with anything yet.  Joker was kind enough to let me check the sigs of the messages you both supposedly sent out.  Curiously devoid of any information save for the signs that belong to you.  Location data was a bit fucked, but these days that’s normal.  Very impressive work, I’m afraid,” Wren elaborated, pushing the empty drink away from her.  “Hope you don’t mind me taking shit from your bar, by the way.”

Regis shrugged. “I don’t drink most of that shit anyway.  Take what you want.”

That was more of Kaidan’s and Zaeed’s hobby, the two of them sharing a similar taste in drinks.  And men, Regis couldn’t help but chuckle to himself.  They are the ones who will squabble over the perfect liquor for the evening, while Regis just grabs a hard lemonade or cider from the fridge and uses that as his drink of choice.  He wasn’t much of a fan of mixed drinks either, unless they were mostly sugar and syrup and fruit.  

Something he definitely got from his mother.  She and Adrian have both teased him how he managed to find men who had damn near the same taste in alcohol as his father.

It’s been a while since he’s thought about Atlas.  Sometimes he wonders what he would’ve thought of Regis’s career in the Alliance, his choice in relationship, and his ultimate decisions in the midst of the Reaper War.

In these times of peace, Regis’s mind wandered more and more.

“Be careful who you say that around,” Wrex piped up from the kitchen.  

“I think we have enough credits to cover everyone here if it came to it,” Kaidan chuckled.  “Not that we have any krogan liquor here, but if you put it on the tab, I might be inclined to pay for it.  You did help save our lives after all.”

“It amazes me how good of a person you are, Kaidan.  I won’t take too much advantage of your generosity.”

“I will!” Tali exclaimed, seated next to Wrex.  They fist bumped. 

Kaidan rolled his eyes.  “Thanks.”

“You do have an impressive bar here,” Ashley said, moving to grab Wren’s empty drink, pour out the ice, and drop it in the sink.  She sat down next to her.  “It’s a damn shame you never took up my offer for that drinking contest.  Didn’t want to lose against the ‘Glamorous and beautiful superstar Spectre agent’?”

“My biotics and my modifications would give me an unfair advantage.  I don’t get drunk easily,” Regis defended.  Mostly he didn’t want to drink whatever hard shit she would insist on, and she most definitely knew that.  Better suited for Zaeed and Kaidan to take her up on her offer.  “Cute title.  Might need to come up with one like that for Kaidan.”

“I’ll get right on it,” she laughed, giving Kaidan a wink.  He merely shook his head, walking into the kitchen to sit with Tali and Wrex.  Zaeed joined Vik on the couch.

As Regis moved to join Zaeed by the fireplace, he saw Brooks rushing towards them from the spare bedroom, wearing a simple, but elegant dress, just enough to fit the dress code without drawing too much attention.  She had pulled her hair up into a bun and curled her hair, adding a bit of extra makeup to her face and finishing off the look with a hint of gloss.  “Sorry for the delay!  Got a little distracted.  Wow, you have such a great apartment!”

Regis nodded his head at the compliment.  “Ready to go?  Or do we need to debrief again before we take the skycars over?” He motioned to the door, anxious to get on with it. 

He was more unnerved about the situation than he let on, wondering how someone managed to get past his security and get too close to ending him once and for all.  After they get the apartment back to themselves, he's going to seek comfort in Kaidan and Zaeed, hoping that this will all blow over soon. 

They know how vulnerable the restaurant attack made him.  His injuries and immediate clinginess was enough proof of that. 

“Skycars?” Brooks asked.  “Plural?  I thought we would all be walking in together?”  She looked a little put out.

“This is as much of a press event as it is a mission,” Kaidan said.  “Better for the three of us to get all the attention first, while you follow behind.  Nothing personal.”

“Maybe a little personal,” Zaeed said under his breath.  Kaidan would’ve elbowed him for that.  Regis wasn’t that tactful. 

"Okay, that makes sense!  I'll be able to slip away and get ready while you three steal the show.  Got it," she said with a nod. 

Yes, that was the point of the mission.  Regis kept his snide comment silent.  “So, are we ready?  Any last minute preparations?”

Wren stood up and shook her head.  “None at all from my end.  We’ll also be in civilian wear, to not draw too much attention to ourselves in the area.  The rest of the squad will be ready to go in full gear if necessary, but somehow I doubt that will be an issue.  I’ll hail the skycars.”

– –

They stepped out of the skycar, and Regis held out his arms, waiting for Kaidan and Zaeed to link arms with him before heading down the red carpet lining the path into the Silver Coast Casino.  Flashing lights, cheering crowds, and adoring masses lined the area, held back by rope barriers.  

Regis couldn't help but flash a charming smile to the crowds. “We are going to be all over the headlines tomorrow morning,” he remarked, amused at the whole situation.  There were benefits to being the man in the middle, having no hand free to wave to the crowd.

Kaidan waved at the crowd, playing the ever-so-perfect media darling.  Regis could play the part as well, but Kaidan was quite the natural at it these days.  Let Kaidan do the talking, while Regis stands menacingly for recruitment posters.  “All part of being who we are, I’m afraid.”

“Don't rope me into your celebrity statuses, babe," Zaeed grumbled, keeping his free hand stashed in a pocket, "I'm just an accessory to both of your Spectre and Admiral nonsenses."  He may have sounded reluctant, but Regis knew he secretly enjoyed all the attention, loving that he could be out and open in the spotlight with his husbands by his side.

“You love it, though,” Kaidan said as they walked through the grand doors, stopping at the foot of the stairs.  Regis moved his grip to brush against their hands before breaking apart.  They stayed close together, shoulders touching, unafraid to be out and open with who they are.  “The press are only allowed outside.  We should have nothing to worry about once inside. Except for some extranet gossip, but that's normal."

“I am going to hold you to that,” Zaeed said, popping another button open on his collar, smirking at Regis as he did so.  Regis narrowed his eyes a fraction, raising an eyebrow.  Zaeed mirrored the motion, as if goading him into doing something about it.  And oh, he wanted to.  Wanted to find a stray alcove or hidden corner somewhere and wipe that damn expression off his face, make him let loose and ruin his suit under Regis’s terms.

This is going to be a game all evening, isn’t it?

Brooks joined them soon after, walking quickly down the red carpet behind them.  “Well, I guess I’ll get to the ventilation shaft.  Wish me luck!”

As she walked up the stairs, Regis double checked the comms and activated his link.  Kaidan and Zaeed did the same.  “Wren, have anything for us?”

“Not currently.  EDI and I will keep in contact in case we’re needed.  As you can imagine, Khan is a paranoid bastard, and has lots of surveillance.  Act natural, mingle, and be in oh-so-disgusting-love,” Wren said, chuckling at the end of her sentence.

“It’s like you want us to be all over the extranet,” Zaeed muttered, shaking his head.  “Remind me why I signed up for this?”

“I’d imagine because of whatever Regis and maybe Kaidan promised you.  And I don’t want to hear it.  But remember: this is supposed to be a press-free event on the inside.  You’ll be fine, Zaeed.  Also: mute button.  Use it!”  Wren chimed in.

Regis rolled his eyes, despite knowing she couldn’t see it, and muted his comm for now.  “Time to meet the riff-raff.”

“And I’m going to hang out at the goddamn bar,” Zaeed said, making a motion with his thumb.  “You two can look pretty and talk politics or some shit.  Lots of crowds mingling.  Maybe you can learn something new.”

There were plenty of groups, mixed between humans and aliens, all in formal wear.  Some were hanging out by the gambling areas, others stayed put in the various couches for a semblance of privacy.  Others were walking hand in hand, pointing and marveling at the spectacle.  It was quite the elegant place, a soft piano ambience in the air mingling with the sound of the crowds.  

“So you want us to do all the distracting work so you can look pretty drinking the night away at the bar,” Regis said, linking his arm back with Zaeed's.  “Come on, where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I left it at the door with my guns.”    

Regis did let Zaeed guide him to the bar, where he asked for some sparkling flavored water.  “Three of the strawberry flavored, will you?”  He held up three fingers, nodding once the bartender set three cans on the table.  “Have to stay focused tonight, you hear me?”  The bartender nodded, likely getting lots of similar requests.  People either wanting to get drunk and have fun, or those that want to take part in the festivities without losing face.  Or a lot of money.

Huh.  Maybe he did plan something out of this.  Kaidan looked at him curiously, grabbing a can and opening it, taking a long sip.  “Are a lot of people enjoying the evening?” Kaidan asked, motioning to the well-stocked bar.

“People are feeling adventurous lately.  Some asari gelatin shots that kick like a shotgun.  Even some hanar delicacies.  Ever heard of mindfish?”

Regis and Kaidan shared a look.  Zaeed grinned.  “Sure have.  Never tried it myself, it seemed too goddamn wild even for my tastes.”

“So, what is it?” Regis asked, taking a drink.  

The bartender went into detail about hallucinogenic skin oils and how it works in humans.  Yeah, no, not for him.  He likes being in control.  And something like that sounds like his worst nightmare.  “I think I’ll pass,” Regis said, finishing off the small can.  The bartender took it off his hands.

“I don’t blame you.  We have many more ‘normal’ concoctions, if you desire to get something stronger.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Kaidan said diplomatically, finishing off his drink.  “Have a good evening.”

“You too, gentlemen.”  They stepped away from the bar.

“Well, that was a waste of time,” Regis muttered, heading towards the grand stairway in the back.

“Isn’t that the whole point?  To waste time?” Zaeed asked, giving him an unimpressed look, but following behind him.

“He’s got a point, love,” Kaidan said, moving up beside Regis.  “Besides, do you really want to entertain most of the people here who are probably vying to get a special talk with the oh-so-great Admiral Shepard?”

“As if you aren’t the oh-so-wonderful Admiral Alenko.  But fair, I can concede to that,” Regis admitted, moving to lean against the railing in front of the waterfalls.  “This should be my element,” he murmured, crossing his arms against his chest.  “I sometimes like doing these things, but tonight I just want to get to Khan.”

“It’s not a normal evening,” Zaeed said, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.  “We’ll find the bastards that are doing this and make them fucking pay for nearly taking you away from us.”

“I know.  Can’t help but dwell on it,” he sighed.  

“Admiral, I’m upstairs by the grate leading to the shaft, but there’s a problem.  Can you meet me?” Brooks said over the comm, sounding worried.

Kaidan answered, “We’re on our way.”

They walked up the stairs and met her off to the side, away from the dance floor and yet another well-stocked bar.  She was standing in front of the vent, her omnitool out.  “Ah, there you are!  Okay, just like we thought.  There’s an alarm on the grate.”

“We’ll need to bypass it,” Regis said with a nod.  “Something tells me this isn’t something I can do cleanly with one of my programs?”

“Probably not…?” She trailed off, glancing back at the vent.  “In any case, Major Clarkson gave me these to pass to you.”  She pulled out a small lens case from her pocket.  “These are resonance emitter lenses.  They will let you see security grids and wiring.”

Regis sanitized his hands with a quick flash of his omnitool and put in the lenses, blinking quickly as his eyes adjusted to the intrusion.  A slight haze settled over his vision, and he saw bright blue glowing wiring on the wall surrounding the vent and climbing down to the floor.

“I love your glowing eyes, but that’s freaky on another level,” Zaeed said, blunt as ever.  Kaidan gave him one of his signature looks.  

Regis ignored them but made a point to catch his reflection later. “Good.  I'll disable the alarm.  Should be rudimentary with this shit in my eyes.”

“Fingers crossed!” She said, holding up a hand.   

“I’ll be right back,” Regis said.  He activated the comm.  “Wren, the lenses are working great.  Bit disorienting though.”

“Yeah, they aren’t my favorite thing either.  Calibrated well with your cybernetics?”

“Perfectly.  Great work as always.”

“You flatter me.  Follow the blue wiring for me.”

As he walked across the upper floor, careful to not bump into any of the dancing, drinking patrons, he noticed glowing areas around the cameras.  “I see the camera zones as well.  I’ll keep an eye out for them.”

“Wasn’t even worried about you.”  

He stopped at the wall on the other side of the room, directly across from the vent.  “I see the junction, and of course a camera is watching it.  Need me to hack and fool it, or am I going to need a Wren and EDI special?”

“Pfft, nah.  You got the good shit.  The stuff I have is a fork of your stuff anyway.  It’s pretty sad that the shit you and Adrian do was far better than a lot of stuff in the former SB’s database.”

Regis chuckled, activating his hack with a flourish and disabling the alarm.  “Thought I’d ask anyway.”

“Such a gentleman.”

The camera turned back on a moment later, and Regis stepped away.  “Should be disabled now, Brooks.” He took a moment to glance at his reflection by opening the camera on his 'tool.

His normally red glowing eyes were lined with yellow scan lines. He blinked a few times and the light dimmed some, but not going away completely.

Zaeed had a point. It was a little off putting, even by his normal post-Lazarus apperance.

“Good!  Zaeed helped me get the grate open and… in we go!  Act casual, this could take a while.”

Kaidan and Zaeed rejoined him in the center of the room.  “Nice and efficient as always,” Kaidan praised, leaning up against him.  He motioned to the dance floor.  “Want to let loose for a bit?”

“The kind of dancing I want to do with you two is not appropriate for this kind of shindig,” Zaeed chuckled, his eyes darkening.  “But I did catch an interesting figure there in the back.  Ashland… Jonah, I believe.”

“Of Eldfell-Ashland Energy?” Regis asked, the name vaguely familiar.

Ah, right.  The owners of the facility on Zorya, back when they hired Zaeed to free it from the Blue Suns…

“One and the same,” Zaeed nodded.  “Want to say hello?”

“Probably one of the more interesting people up here to talk to,” Regis said.  “Shall we?”

A well-dressed older man was leaning against the bar, speaking to a turian dressed in casual wear.  As they approached, his face broke out into recognition.  “Two Admirals and a well-known mercenary.  Interesting company.”

“Enjoying the party?” Kaidan asked, joining him against the bar.  Regis and Zaeed stood next to Kaidan, getting comfortable.

“Young people party.  I drink.  Tonight it’s ryncol on the rocks,” he chuckled, holding up his glass.  “What brings you here?”

“Business,” Regis said, keeping it truthful but vague.  “A common reason here, I’m sure.”

“It’s never just business,” Ashland replied, looking over at Zaeed.  “I heard what you did on Zorya back a few years ago.  Good work keeping our people safe.  Blue Suns can be such a stain on this galaxy.”

He couldn’t help but share a look with Zaeed.  They long since worked past Zorya, and the moment Wren became the Broker, they were able to hunt Vido down once and for all before their final mission with Cerberus.

Still, it wasn’t easy thinking about what had happened.  No regrets from the both of them now, but Regis hated what that mission did to them, hated how fragile things could get concerning his command.

One of the few times he wasn’t sure if he would have done the same thing if he could repeat the mission.  Best to leave those thoughts buried in the past with Vido’s corpse.

“All in a day's work,” Zaeed said, brushing off the compliment.  “I had Shepard’s resources on my side.  Good to know that it worked out in the end.”  It worked out for the company.  For them?  Eventually.

Kaidan sent a reassuring push into the gravity well, sensing the change in the air between them, caught in their old conflict like everyone else on board the SR-2.

Regis sent one back.  They will be fine.

They continued to talk more about the state of the galaxy.  Ashland offered up some information pertaining to his company's growth and reconstruction post-war.  He kept his comm open, knowing Wren would likely enjoy the tidbits of knowledge.  

“Seeing all this,” he said, gesturing around him.  “Nobody is afraid of each other anymore.  You’ve made the galaxy quite a better place, Admiral.”

“I wanted to win,” Regis said.  “And the only way was to unite the galaxy to the best of my ability.”

“I’d argue you did far more than that.  Enjoy your evening, gentlemen.  Don’t waste your time speaking to me.” He raised his glass and took a long sip.

“I’d argue you’re one of the more interesting people here,” Kaidan said, amping up the charm as always.  “It looks like most are here to throw around their wealth and status.  What brings you here?”

He laughed and talked about his daughter, asking if they had run into her yet.  They hadn’t and the topic changed to her and his concerns about her.  Young, impulsive, not yet knowing much about the world.  Like they all were once upon a time.

Eventually, it was time for them to move on, Regis departing with a laugh and well wishes.  They walked back down the stairs, heading back down to the main area to grab some more refreshments and eat some of the variety of foods offered to the event’s guests.  However, an asari caught his eye at the bottom of the stairs, looking somewhat familiar.

She caught his gaze and tilted her head to the side.

Sha’ira.

“Admiral Shepard,” she greeted.  Regis stayed a few feet away, recalling their last meeting with a bit of distaste.  He doubted she would do anything–hell, she backed off when he asked her to–but he found the whole situation… uncomfortable, especially with Kaidan and Ash in the room with him, as if she wanted to put on a show.  “Or do you go by your full name these days?”

“Whichever you prefer,” he replied.  “It’s been a long time.”

“My idea of a long time is different from yours.  I see some of your companions have remained the same,” she said softly, nodding at Kaidan.  He returned the gesture, but Regis could feel the tense air around them.  Kaidan also wasn’t too happy at her display back in her chambers, ranting about it the moment they left the chambers.  “And some are new.”  Zaeed didn't introduce himself, and she didn’t ask.  

He remembered their call to Zaeed all about her later that day, catching him up on everything that had gone on since Eden Prime.

They have come a long way since then.

“I’ve put a lot of living in the past few years,” Regis replied, adjusting his tie.  “But even these times must feel long to an asari.”

“Indeed,” she said, taking a sip from her drink.  “If this was a couple of years ago, I would have had more advice for you.”

“Oh, really?” Regis asked, admittedly a bit curious to learn what she had to say.

She smirked.  “One word: win.  You’ve done far more than that, and I applaud you.  I would offer you a drink, but something tells me you would decline.”

“Want to have a clear head tonight.”

“I see.” She sat her glass down.  “Good to see that you are doing well, Admiral, after everything.”

“Same to you,” he offered.  “The galaxy has come a long way since its first human Spectre.”

“And now there’s more than a few,” she glanced over at Kaidan.  “Some even I would consider honorary in deeds if not in name.” Her gaze landed on Zaeed.  

She turned back to him.  “Did you ever find a use for that trinket?”

A vision on Eletania, after examining a floating prothean relic.  A chance, a hunch, a sensation from the trinket that brought him to test it in the slot.

He became enmeshed in the life of a Cro-Magnon hunter, captured by a prothean drone.  The implication of being watched and studied, but unable to comprehend it.

It disturbed him and still does to this day.  

“No,” Regis lied.  “I did not.  It was lost with the SR-1.”  That part wasn’t a lie.  It stayed hidden in a drawer after it detached itself from the relic.  He damn near wanted to blow it up, but he kept it, just in case.

His visions may have played a part in preventing him from destroying it.  Dwelling on it these days creates nothing but disquiet and unease.

Zaeed sensed a change in the air and brushed up against him  Right.  He never told him about the vision, barely even giving Kaidan the details after they got back to the Normandy and ensured Regis suffered no ill effects from the relic.

“A shame.  Maybe some mysteries were never meant to be solved.”

“Agreed,” Regis said, moving to take Zaeed’s hand.  He squeezed it tightly in response.  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to enjoy the rest of the evening with my husbands.”

“I can see saying that makes you very happy, Admiral.  I wish you peace for the rest of your life,” she nodded.  “A better gift of words than the ones I gave you all those years ago.”

“Thank you,” Kaidan answered, taking Regis’s other hand.  “Times are better for us.  I hope they are also peaceful for you too.”

“As do I, Admiral.  Have a good rest of your evening.”

“What was that about?” Zaeed asked as they walked back to the railing in front of the waterfalls.

“The trinket?” Regis asked, already knowing the answer.  

“Yeah, exactly.”  Zaeed nodded.  “Trust me, I remember the story about her.  You lied to her, didn’t you?”

“Can’t hide anything from you.  We found a relic on an UNC.  Her trinket just so happened to interface with it.  I saw… and damn near lived the life of an ancient hunter.  The protheans were watching us, throughout our history” Regis said.  Zaeed and Kaidan both provided reassuring squeezes, punctuated by Kaidan reaching into the gravity well, his eyes igniting blue briefly.  “It’s… not fun to talk about.”

“That’s about what I got out of him after it happened,” Kaidan said for Zaeed’s benefit, moving in to brush a soft kiss on the side of Regis’s neck.  “Never expected to see her again.”

“That prothean shit freaks me out.  No offense,” Zaeed said.  Regis waved it off,

“Can’t say I’ve enjoyed having it in my head either.  It is what it is,” he sighed.

“Admiral!” Brook’s voice appeared over the comms in a harsh whisper.

“What?” Regis asked, lowering his voice.

“There’s a guard right below me.  He’s on the uh–left? Side of the room?  From your left.  Not mine.”

Regis looked over and saw a guard on the other side of the bar. “Don’t panic.  We’ll get his attention.”

But how… Hmm.  The three of them shared a look, and Kaidan kicked off from the railing, volunteering himself to do the job.  “Excuse me.” The guard turned to him, his visor shutting off momentarily.  Interesting little feature.  Kaidan leaned in close, as if he was telling a secret.  “You may want to check out the men’s restrooms.  I don’t want to snitch but…” He lowered his voice.  “Might have seen some people using red sand.”

“Goddamn snitch,” Zaeed chuckled.  “Hope there aren’t any unsuspecting folks in there.”

“It’s effective,” Regis defended, watching as the guard opened his omnitool and relayed the information to the rest of security. “But I’ll agree.  Was damn near tempted to bring my Astras with me.”

“Thought you quit that.”  His tone wasn’t accusatory, but his glare damn sure was.

“I did.  Shit like this wants me to bring it back.”

Zaeed wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close to his side.  “I get it.  Just don’t like you relying on them.”

“Neither do I.”  But he still has that feeling all the same.

“We’re taking care of it sir.  Appreciate your help.  You have a good night, now.”

Kaidan rubbed the back of his head, looking a bit sheepish.  “Uh, no problem.”  The guard turned away from him and started on a different patrol route.  Kaidan rejoined them as Regis relayed to Brooks that the route was clear.

“Thanks!  I’ll see if I can get to the panic room.”

Zaeed motioned for them to follow him, walking over to the other side of the room in the back, a quieter area with some mixed seating and refreshments.  A bit of a break from standing around and making conversation with people.  Regis was very thankful for it.

Kaidan grabbed a couple of little tarts and passed them around.  “Looked like you two weren’t too impressed with my display there,” he commented, taking a bite out of the tart.

“Wasn’t all about that,” Zaeed said, eating his in one go.  He wiped away crumbs from his mouth, getting some on his suit.  Regis moved to brush them off, but he dodged him, stepping aside with a laugh.  “It will be fine, babe.”

“You’re paying for the goddamn dry cleaning.”

“Our money anyway.” He shrugged.  “Anything to get out of this suit faster.”

“There’s a coat check,” Kaidan helpfully suggested.  He moved in, grabbed Zaeed’s suit by the lapels.  “You’ve always looked better without the jacket, showing off those arms of yours.”

Regis couldn’t exactly disagree with that.  But it’s about the fucking principle.  “And what happened to me making all of us match?”

“We’ve matched for the goddamn press already.”  Zaeed let Kaidan slip the jacket off his shoulders before he started rolling up the sleeves of his black, silk shirt.  Regis tried to not focus too much on the action, knowing it will definitely betray his real feelings on the matter.  “Take off your coats too and we can all match again.”

“Tempting.” Regis narrowed his eyes as Kaidan walked over to a room in the corner.  “But I'm not going to do it.  Besides, didn’t you want to take this off of me later?”

“You’re still all dressed up,” he purred into his ear.  “One less layer just makes it easier for me to make you writhe.”

Regis had to hold back a shiver.  It’s been a while since they were able to take a moment for themselves.  This shore leave was meant to be a bunch of self-indulgent laziness, plenty of sex, and ignoring the responsibilities of the greater galaxy.

Instead, he was fighting off yet another attempt on his life.  When will people learn that it isn’t easy to take down Regis Shepard?

“Careful,” Regis replied.  “You may be the one helpless if you keep up this game of yours.”

Zaeed popped another button, showing off more of his skin in response.  

Kaidan rejoined them, watching them with an exasperated look on his face.  “Not that I’m not enjoying the show, but time and a place.”

“Says you,” both he and Zaeed said together.  

Kaidan held up his hands in surrender.  “I like what I like.  But the last thing I think you want to deal with is getting in the moment and hearing Brooks’s voice over the comm.”

“I hate it when you’re being so reasonable,” Regis said, shaking his head.  

Kaidan hooked his arm with Zaeed’s.  “You can do whatever you want to each other later.”

“You aren’t involving yourself?” Zaeed asked with narrowed eyes.  “What are you planning?”

“I think I’m going to let you two take the lead on this one.  See who wins out on this petty game you have going on.”  Kaidan always liked to watch when it was the three of them, being a vocal spectator, directing the scene to his specifications.  Or he’ll be content just watching in silence, joining in after Regis and Zaeed were nearly spent to push them all over the edge.

Regis walked back over to the table of refreshments and grabbed some more desserts.  He was getting hungry, and these tiny little portions weren’t helping.  “Whatever happens will be after we get some takeout.”

“And we still need to test out your amp,” Kaidan reminded with a pointed look.

Regis rolled his neck.  “I can test out plenty of maneuvers in the bedroom,” he said, looking at Zaeed as he did so.  Zaeed smirked in response.  “Anyway, want to gamble some of our money away?”  He pointed to the door.

“Not particularly,” Zaeed replied, letting Kaidan guide him over to the door.  “Who else is there to even talk to in this place?  Politicians and shit?”

Regis followed them back to the main area, heading to one of the side gambling areas.  They can at least watch and feign interest in what's going on.  This was getting old, fast.  “Wren, did you ever get a guest list together?” He asked, unmuting himself. 

“I can send you one.  Why?  Zaeed complaining about the company?”

She knows them so well. 

“Am I wrong?” Zaeed shot back. 

She snorted. “No.  I’ll send you a list.  But since I haven’t seen anything too untoward posted to the ‘net about you three, I think you’re going just fine.”

Their omnitools pinged with the file transfer.

Zaeed opened it, examining the dossier.  “See, I was right.  Mostly a bunch of bullshit.”

“At least many are high paying donors.  And as far as I can tell, most of the money goes where it says it's going to be.  I’ll make sure that it all gets routed to the charity efforts.  I’ll leave you three to it, unless you have anything else for me?”

“I think we’re good, thanks,” Regis said, taking a cup of water from a nearby waiter.  “We’ve made good progress.”

“To be honest, I’m impressed.  Like you, I thought this whole thing was going to go up in flames.”

“A little faith goes a long way,” Kaidan said diplomatically.  

“You’re too goddamn nice, Kaidan,” Wren chuckled.

Kaidan looked at Regis and Zaeed, shaking his head.  “Someone has to be on our team.”

Before Regis could even attempt to defend himself–and it would be for naught, as it is very hard for him to be nice most of the time–the comms came to life from Brooks.  “Um, I’ve got a pressure pad and an obstruction detector ahead.  I can’t disable them from here.”

What kind of spy-movie bullshit is going on in this place?  Then again, physical security was never Regis’s thing.  Maybe this kind of stuff really was effective.

“Sounds like a job for EDI,” Zaeed answered, to his surprise. “We’ll figure this shit out for you.”

“I was talking to–oh nevermind!  Okay… I’ll stay here, hoping to not blow up anything.”

Her enthusiasm and focus on him was getting real grating.  Zaeed grimaced, muting his comm.  “This shit can’t end any sooner.”

“I don’t foresee how you need my help.  You have Shepard, who is capable enough with his own programs to handle your situation from my knowledge.  Unless you want me to improve outputs by an incremental only I will notice… then no,” EDI piped up.  “Wait, you wanted her to get off the comms.”

“You’re goddamn right, EDI,” Zaeed said.  “Regis, what do you got for us?”

Regis scanned the room, now since used to all the extra information coming from the lenses.  He identified one point in the gambling area they were in, and what appeared to be another on the other area on the other side of the room.  “We’re in the perfect spot, found one of the junction points.  Only problem is we have both a camera and a guard over here.”

The guard was weaving between the betting races and the quasar machines, making a long, but predictable path.  Moving fast enough to where Regis knew he couldn’t hack the junction and deal with the camera without her noticing.  

“Don’t worry.  I’ll distract her,” Zaeed said, undoing his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves to his elbows.  He handed Kaidan his cufflinks.

Kaidan gave him an unimpressed look.  “Zee, I love you, but–”

“No buts.  I can handle this.  You both do remember what I used to do for a goddamn living, right?”

Yes, in many explosive and non-clandestine ways.  But Regis also wanted to see what he was planning, and chose to not support Kaidan in this.  When Kaidan looked at him for back up, Regis shrugged.  Kaidan’s gaze fell on Zaeed’s arms and pursed his lips.

He got to see those large, muscled arms.  Can he really judge him?  Focus, Regis.  You can’t let him win.

Kaidan sighed and waved him off, moving to make small talk with some of the gamblers as Regis moved to the junction, starting by disabling the camera.  

“Hey, can we talk shop for a second here? What kind of resume do you need to work at a place like this?" Regis overheard Zaeed ask the guard as he inputted his program and waited for the camera to clear.

He had to stifle a laugh.  Effective for sure. 

“Well, if you're really interested, we have an extranet site with the details,” she replied, sounding hesitant, as if she was expecting something else out of him.

The camera cleared out, and he slid over to the junction, keeping a mental timer in his head.  Plenty of time to get rid of the first obstruction.  According to the printouts, this belonged to the pressure pad.

“Ah, thanks.  You see, I think a gig like this can really help me impress my boyfriend.”

Regis wanted to know which one, feeling like he could hear Kaidan rolling his eyes.  He finalized his entry, looking through the printouts as they appeared to ensure there were no errors.

His display flashed green, and he was in the clear just in time for the camera to recover.

One down, one more to go.

He sent a push through the gravity well to let Kaidan know he was done.  Kaidan nodded at the group he was talking to and walked up to Zaeed, reaching out for his hand.  “Hey love, what are you getting up to?”

The guard only smiled at them before continuing her route.  “Oh, you know, just making conversation.”

“Hope you weren’t flirting,” Kaidan teased, lightly punching him on the shoulder.  “Come on, let’s check out the other activities.”

Regis started to make his way over to the other side of the room.  “Brooks, try the pressure pad.”

“Checking the pressure pad… no alarms.  Looks good!”

“Good, I’ll get the other module disabled.  Stay put.”

“Not like I’m going anywhere anytime soon!”

Regis glanced behind him to make sure Kaidan and Zaeed were following him as they made their way over to the roulette tables.  

He saw the junction on the wall, confirming it was the right one by following the wires.  Unfortunately, this area was also heavily guarded.  Two guards were patrolling, and sending both Zaeed and Kaidan to deal with them would look suspect.   However, there was no camera this time.

Regis positioned himself near the junction panel.  “One of you needs to distract the guard, while the other keeps an eye out for me.”

“Sounds like it’s my turn,” Kaidan said, adjusting his suit, heading towards the guard that was patrolling closer to the junction controls.

Regis wondered how this was going to go.  Zaeed gave him a nod and settled near one of the roulette tables, keeping an eye on the game and the guard.

“Excuse me, sir,” Kaidan began, sounding a little… guilty?  “Uh, I accidentally used biotics on the roulette wheel.  Sorry.” Regis had to hide a snort.  He started to input his program, watching the printouts for anything he might need to adjust on the fly.  Nothing.

Man, the security in this place is terrible.  Either that, or his programs are that good.

Most likely a bit of both, if he had to guess.  The guard replied, “We can eject you for that, sir.  Do I make myself clear?”

The program was almost done.  “Extremely.  Though, I’m not the only one, those groups of asari–” he pointed behind him.  “Watch.”

The display flashed green before Regis turned around to see where Kaidan was going with this.  To his surprise, Kaidan was right.  Two asari’s eyes flashed a light violet as the roulette spun.

The guard hurried over to the table without a second glance.  Nice one, babe.

Regis sent a push through the gravity well, and they were off, leaving as the guard started to escort out the cheating asari.

Zaeed started to laugh as they settled down in a quiet corner.  “I love you, Kaid.”

“Noticed it when we walked over.  I wasn’t going to ‘incriminate’ myself at first, but why not.  Funny seeing him get so mad until I dropped that bombshell onto him,” Kaidan said, a smile tugging on his lips.

“I was wondering where you were going with that,” Regis said, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.  “Nice one.”

“I don’t get a kiss for my distraction?” Zaeed said, crossing his arms, looking unimpressed.

“Depends on which boyfriend you were talking about back there,” Regis replied.

“Uh, did you get it working?” Brooks asked, interrupting their conversation.  Ah, right.

“Yes, the detector should be disabled.”

“Okay… yes!  Alright, I’m already at the storage room grate.  Time to hit the lock.”

“Be careful,” he said, and then heard sounds of metal and general commotion.  “Uh, Brooks?  Everything okay?”

“Oh, son of a–hey, Admiral?”

The three of them shared a look.  “What happened?”

She started to whisper.  “Infrared laser hooked up to a silent alarm.  I didn’t get it in time.”

Shit.  EDI piped up, “Shepard, I’ll call the responding guard to say it was a false alarm, but you must stall her before she reaches Brooks.  She is coming from the racing area.”

“Got it, EDI.  Thanks.”

Regis hurried back over to the other gambling area, wondering if it was the same female guard Zaeed was talking to earlier.  As he rounded the corner, he saw that it was, her hand on her comm link and the other holding up her omnitool display.

He motioned for Kaidan and Zaeed to stay behind.  “Hey!” he yelled, trying to get her attention.

She held up her hands.  “Jesus, calm down.  I’m trying to do three things at once here!” Her omnitool pinged with an alarm.  She held up a finger.  “One moment, please, sir,” she sighed, activating the vid.

“EDI’s got it handled, thankfully,” Wren said quietly.  “She’s so cool”

Regis only smiled, despite knowing she couldn’t see it. 

Will she do something about it already?

“Barrow?” The guard sighed.  “What is it?”

“Ma’am, we’ve checked out the alarm in storage.  It’s nothing.  Minor accident,” EDI said with her voice disguised to be that of one of the guards.  

“Find out who tripped it and get them in my office by the end of the shift!” she ordered, shutting down her omnitool.  She brought her attention back to Regis.  “Now you. What is it you needed?”

Uh… that’s a damn good question.  He was going to be a little shit and bring up Zaeed, but maybe that’s not a good idea.  Try not to bring too much attention to them.  So… what now?

“Ah shit, I’m sorry.  Thought you were an old friend of mine.  Sorry about that,” he said, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment.  “I’ll leave you back to your work.”

Good enough.  Plausible, if a bit weak.

She paused and shook her head.  “You… have a good evening, sir.” She walked away.

Regis returned back to his laughing lovers.  “What is it?” he sighed.

“You came up with that on the fly, didn’t you?” Zaeed laughed. 

Regis ignored them.  “Brooks, you’re in the clear.  Please, be careful.”

“Thanks, Admiral.  I will!  I’ll see if I can get to the panic room.”

So close to getting to Khan.  Regis was getting tired of this back and forth, running on fumes at this point.  He moved to lean against the wall, taking a breath.  He knew he wasn’t getting a migraine, none of the tell-tale signs were there, but his head was starting to pound.  

Kaidan picked up on it.  “Regis, love, everything okay?”

“Just tired,” he said. “Shouldn’t have volunteered to do this so soon.  Wren, can you do me a favor?”

“Depends.  Related to the mission?”

“Not this current one.  I’ll say it anyway.  Get my goddamn apartment cleared before we get in there, and I don’t want to hear anyone bitching about it.”

“Ah, I see.  No problem.  I imagine some of us might want to stay behind in case there’s a problem… Vik already let me know they were going to meet up with Adrian to get him informed on the situation.”

“Sure, that’s fine.  Got a number in mind?”

“Myself and EDI… Ash for sure…”

Wren and EDI… that’s something he’s been keeping a close eye on from the beginning.  He first thought Joker was interested in EDI, but when Regis made that suggestion, he shot it down fast, saying that he and EDI were best as friends, even making a comment about Wren’s interest.

He also knew Traynor had a thing for EDI as well, but he wasn’t sure if that was just attraction to her voice or something more.  Wren, however, got to know EDI and her mech would often spend time in Wren’s office, helping her sort out stuff with her network and her liaison, an N7 Paladin by the name of Seth Nomad, still on board the old Broker’s ship.  

Keeping that ship intact gave them a lot of good resources in the Reaper War.  Too valuable to be decommissioned or sacrificed.

“That’s fine with me.  We have two guest bedrooms you can bunk in,” Regis said, looking at both Kaidan and Zaeed who nodded at the suggestion.

“I’ll let them know.  I know you want some time alone, so we’ll keep to ourselves.”

“Thanks, Wren.  You’re the best!”

She laughed.  “I’m well aware, my friend.  You three are being quite antisocial.”

“At this point, we’re tired of all this bullshit,” Zaeed said.  “I, for one, was tired of it when we walked through the goddamn door.”

“Fair enough.  Not that I really expected anything else from you,” she chuckled.  “Ah, well, as long as we get something out of Khan I don’t really care what you three get up to at this point.”

“I’d be careful, Wren.  Best not to give them anymore leeway they need,” Kaidan said, a smirk tugging at his lips as he looked at Regis and Zaeed.  

“What are they doing now?”

“Zaeed keeps messing with his suit,” Regis supplied, and Wren made a sound of understanding.  “It’s become a whole thing.”

“And Kaidan, you say that like you aren’t the reason why I cleared the camera feeds in the docking bay a couple of months ago.”

He shrugged as Regis recalled that memory.  Kaidan and Zaeed got a little… distracted with one another, to put it simply. 

Both of their exhibition kinks will be the death of him. 

Kaidan had the decency to look a little guilty at that, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Fair enough.  We’re all horrible.”

“That’s more like it,” Wren said.  “Don’t worry, we love you three anyway even if y’all love each other a little too much.”

Regis opened his mouth to reply, but Brooks appeared over the comms once more.  “Okay, so now I think you just need to get to me.  I’m on the other side of the security gate.”

“Sounds good.  We’re on our way.  Have you bypassed the camera back there?” Regis asked, eager to finally get the answers they came here for.

“Well, I got my side.  Yours is still on, though.  We need to finish this before someone comes by.”  Regis wondered if the security differed that much between the two areas, but then again, time wasn’t exactly on Brooks’ side.  It’s not like it would take him long to hack into any of the cameras on his side, but something about her blase attitude bugged him despite being so nervous earlier on.

Maybe she’s becoming more sure of herself as she goes through the motions.  Or maybe he’s just really fucking tired and is trying to make sense of something that doesn’t need it.

“Took the words right out of my mouth.  On it,” Regis replied, nodding at Kaidan and Zaeed.

“It’s the yellow wiring,” EDI chimed in.  Regis glanced down and made note of the path, leading them to an area in the back of the casino.  

“I can’t get the security gate to open from here.  The junction must be on your side,” Brooks said as they got closer to her location.  “It might be tricky, just so you know.”

Regis chose to not reply to that statement, looking into the doorway,

All that remained in order to get inside the safe room was a few cameras, a patrolling guard, and a stationary one looking bored against the wall. They were alone in the room; a couple walked out as the three of them lingered nearby the entrance.

“So, how are we going to handle this?” Regis asked, pathing out a way to disable everything as cleanly as possible.

“Don’t worry, I have a plan,” Zaeed said, motioning for Regis to enter the room. “Get yourself nice and positioned by the controls, and we’ll make sure you get us in with no problems.”

Regis looked at Kaidan who merely shrugged in response, not appearing to know what Zaeed was planning, which didn’t concern him at all. Nope.

If worse comes to worse, they can just Stasis the guards and threaten Khan. Not the end of the world.

Regis gave them one last lingering look before walking inside, sitting down on one of the couches closest to the first panel. He made a show as if he was searching for something in his coat, waiting to see if any of the guards were about to approach him.

Regis was in the clear. Ready to activate his omnitool at any moment, he kept a lazy eye out for his lovers, watching as they walked inside, looking a little flustered.

Oh, no. Really?

“What the hell were you thinking, spending all my goddamn money like that?” Zaeed asked, his voice in a low, dangerous growl reserved for the worst of the scum of the galaxy.

“‘My’ money,” Kaidan replied, with dramatic air quotes, his voice carefully flat. “I don’t know, what was that doc we signed all those years ago, signifying the joining of what, exactly? Remind me of that Zachary!”

Regis had to hide a snort as he activated his omnitool. The stationary guard shuffled on his feet, careful to look at anything other than them.

“Yes, yes, commitment and all that goddamn shit, I haven’t forgotten! Do you know what I was saving up for you, Kevin?” Laying it on thick with the names, loves, Regis thought to himself, listening out for the tell-tale sign of the program finishing up. It was taking a bit longer with this one.

“I don’t know, tell me. You’ve been awfully cagey lately. And hey, I ended up making more goddamn money than what we started with, so stop with your complaining!”

“Yeah, you may have made more money, but guess what? That wasn’t your fucking decision to make. Because I was going to buy us a goddamn home on Bekenstein, and you nearly robbed us of a chance for that!”

Aw, how sweet. The program chimed, and Regis got up to deal with the next one. The other guard in his route had moved closer to his lovers, slowing down as he assessed the situation.

“You… what? Our dream home?” Kaidan asked, all starry-eyed. He’s sure Wren was getting an absolute kick out of this, but she was suspiciously quiet. Maybe she was enjoying the show as much as Regis was.

“Yes, you blind idiot!” Out of the corner of his eye, Regis saw Zaeed step closer to Kaidan.

“You should’ve told me! You know how much planning I have to do now to make it perfect? Come here, you asshole.” Kaidan closed the distance between them, grabbing Zaeed by the shirt collar, and pushing him up against the wall near the door.

Regis activated his omnitool the moment he heard the patrolling guard clear his throat awkwardly, inputting the program and watching for the cameras, both still disabled. He would’ve love to watch the show, having just enough of them in view to see that they were ignoring the guard, too absorbed in each other and their love. Or something.

The other guard had joined his partner, clearing his throat louder and trying to find a way to deal with the… situation.

The program chimed, and Regis moved away from the wall, sending out a quick pulse in the gravity well to signify he was ready to go.  In the corner of his eye he saw Brooks outside the door with her omnitool out.  Just in time.

He watched, amused, as they broke apart. “Sorry, gentlemen. A place like this makes you feel so in love,” Kaidan sighed. “We’ll finish this later, darling. Got to show all my appreciation somehow.”

The guards waved his lovers off, turning their backs to them and giving them a bit of space.  Honestly, it was a good plan, making the air awkward and causing the guards to stumble in their routine.

Still, they could work on their acting skills.  He has half a mind to call them by their fake names on their way back to the apartment, just to see how they will react.

They slipped past the guards, the three of them now ready and waiting in the hallway in front of the door.  Brooks nodded at them and opened the door, the four of them rushing inside the office as the doors closed and locked behind them, the faint voice of a guard shouting cut off by the sudden closure.  A problem they will deal with later.

The office itself was fancy, a large, long, wooden desk that appeared to be an Earth antique, and had to be decades, if not over a hundred years old judging by the craftsmanship.  Dimly lit by a fireplace, the office had a nice aura to it.  A couple of chairs lined the desk, and Khan’s chair with him in it was facing away from them.  

A large vid screen was placed above the fireplace, clear of any data.  Other screens lined the walls of the office, filled with scrolling text.  Perhaps something of interest could be gleaned from those later.

The lack of reaction upon their entrance was not lost on Regis.  Or Kaidan and Zaeed, judging by their narrowed eyes.  

“Khan,” Regis began, stepping forward.  “We need to talk.”

No reaction.  Only silence.

Regis sniffed the air, fine tuning his senses augmented by Cebrerus’s project.  Blood.  Singed flesh.  Shit.

Kaidan tilted his head to the side and walked around the desk.  Once he got a look at Khan, a grim expression formed on his face as he turned the chair around.  Khan was slumped in his chair, dead.

“What the hell?!” Brooks exclaimed, stepping forward to join Kaidan behind the desk.

Kaidan scanned his corpse with his omnitool to confirm it.  “Dead by cardiac arrest.  An overload, perhaps.  This wasn’t accidental.”

“And here I had this bad-cop routine all planned,” Zaeed muttered as he and Regis joined them, all huddled around the smaller terminal.  It was open and logged in.  Brooks moved to activate it, but Regis pushed her aside and starting looking through the outputs.

“Fucking hell,” Wren cursed.  “Got me in?”

“Almost there… ah, there you go,” Regis said, getting her linked into Khan’s systems.  “And well, shit, there’s a deletion order.”

“Goddammit.  What a fucking–ugh.”  Wren let out another string of curses, her composure surprisingly lost.  

Brooks started to ramble behind them, pacing back and forth and apologizing if this was because something she did.  Regis paid her no mind as he continued to look through the terminal along with Wren in his ear in case there was something left.

And there–a comm that was left.  Only the terminal was wiped.  Amateurs Regis scoffed to himself.  “Looks like our killer is an idiot.  Didn’t wipe everything.  Let’s see what this is.”

“So, that means we can bring it back to the safe house and scan it or–”

Regis rolled his eyes and activated the comm, turning around to face the screen once it went through.

A figure appeared on the screen, obscured by static and a feed disguised to be lagged out.  “Already on it, Regis,” Wren said.

“Elijah, come crawling back?” The voice taunted, the same modulator as the earlier call Wren got her hands on.

Regis couldn’t help but smirk, crossing his arms and punctuating it by roaring his corona to life.  “Afraid not.”

“You!  I see you’ve recovered from flopping on the floor like a fish.” The voice was carefully neutral, only losing a bit of composure at the beginning.

Have they not checked the news feeds?  Or maybe this was just part of the show they are putting on?

“Fucking pathetic work,” Regis scoffed.  “Please, you must know my track record.  Did you really think falling from an abomination of a restaurant would be my end?”

“Brave.  I thought as much, but it won’t matter.  You have nothing.  All you can do is wait for the hammer to fall.”

Regis blinked.  Is this guy serious?  “I have nothing?  Huh, interesting.  And yet you want me and all that I stand for.”

“Don’t worry.  I’ll take everything you have and everything you are.  And there won’t be anything you can do about it.”  The call ended from the voice’s end.

“Shit.  Almost enough time to track it.  Still, it’s something,” Wren muttered over the comms, almost sounding a little defeated.  “Pull out any data drives you can find.”

“Already on it,” Zaeed said, taking Regis’s place at the terminal.  “Think EDI can find something?”

“I’ll be surprised if I am unable to locate anything from the drives,” EDI said.  “Also, there are guards and C-Sec behind the door.  I suggest letting them in so you can explain the situation.”

“Never a dull day,” Kaidan said, moving to unlock the door, already prepping his Spectre credentials.  A few armed C-ec and a couple of the casino guards were waiting on the other side, their own pistols drawn.

Brooks instinctively put her hands up, but Zaeed shot her a glare, causing her to slowly put them down.

“Excuse me, Kaidan Alenko, Special Tactics and Reconnaissance.  With me here is Regis Shepard, Special Tactics and Reconnaissance, Zaeed Massani, Spectre liaison, and Maya Brooks, Alliance Staff Analyst,” Kaidan said, smoothly diffusing the situation.  “This is under our jurisdiction.”

The salarian officer stepped forward and scanned the credentials.  “If we didn’t recognize you by sight, these definitely prove it.  What’s the situation, Spectre Alenko?”

The next hour passed in a flurry as Zaeed prepped the data drives for transport and Kaidan and Regis talked to the officers to prepare basic reports about the situation, giving the officers a general breakdown of the situation, careful to not reveal anything about the identify theft plot but instead about Khan’s seedier operations.

Enough to provide plausible reason without informing more people of the situation, heeding Brooks’s earlier warnings.  Not that Regis still wanted to abide by them at this point, but there was wisdom in giving information as little as possible.  

Soon enough, they were able to gather their things and leave, Regis making a point to stop by the coat check to give Zaeed his goddamn suit coat with a pointed look that went nowhere.

The only good thing to come out of this mission, really, their teasing keeping things interesting even if they don't keep their promises to do something about it in the end. 

At least they weren’t entirely empty handed, but it didn’t inspire confidence either.  EDI was known to work miracles, and even more so with Wren by her side.

The ride back to the apartment was slightly awkward as they only called one skycar for the four of them to share.   And one of them had to be the one to break the news that the apartment was off-limits to Brooks, who seemed eager to get to the bottom of this, even more so than Regis.

Which, again, fair, but Regis was only human, and he was tired of chasing ghosts.

“But, we have to–”

“No, we fucking don’t,” Zaeed interjected, stopping Brooks from responding to Kaidan telling her to join the rest of the crew in local accommodations.  “Shepard is exhausted, hell, we all are.  And we’ll be goddamn useless if we don’t rest for a few hours before reconvening. Give EDI time to look over our shit.  The Reaper War wasn’t won in a day, and neither will this.”

She slumped down in her seat, and the rest of the ride was filled with an awkward silence.

– –

The smell of soup greeted them as they entered the apartment, shrugging off jackets and taking off their dress shoes.  EDI immediately reached out for the physical drives to go along with the data transfers they sent her before they left the office.  “Ashley took the liberty to order some food.  She opted for an array of soups from a local kitchen, citing that comfort food is exactly what the three of you need.  Was she correct?”

“She was,” Regis said, waving at her in the kitchen.  “I’m going to get undressed, and I’ll be right down.”

“Same here,” Kaidan said, and they all made their way upstairs.  

The door to their bedroom was barely closed before they all started stripping down.  This night should’ve concluded with them enjoying each other, high after a successful mission.  Regis making good on his own promise to take Zaeed apart, as Zaeed fought to do the same to him.  Kaidan watching, observing, waiting to find the right moment to join in.  Or maybe he would’ve been drawn into their shenanigans anyway, siding with the partner he agreed with most at the moment.

Instead, they barely even looked at each other as they shrugged on some comfy clothes, washed their faces, and hung up their suits to be dry cleaned later.  Regis took out the lenses and trashed them, not worth it to reuse them for a later mission.

They all did make a point to prep their hardsuits for later, just in case something were to arise.

Doesn’t hurt to be prepared.

Waiting for them downstairs were bowls of piping hot soup.  Homestyle chicken noodle for Regis, cheesy baked potato for Zaeed, and a hearty vegetable stew for Kaidan, their usual orders. 

“Cute,” Ashley said as she sat down with them at the dining room table, also changed into some loungewear.  “I like your shirts.”

Regis shrugged, knowing he was wearing one of Kaidan’s Spectre shirts, and Kaidan wore one of Zaeed’s yellow tank tops proudly.  “Are you really surprised that we wear each other’s shit?”

“No, but I like teasing you about it anyway.  Big bad merc wearing your too small N7 tank top,” she said, looking at Zaeed.  

He raised his glass of water in response.  “What are you trying to say, Ash?  Want me to flex for you?”  

Ashley raised her own glass in response, winking at him.  “Be my guest, if only for your husbands.  You’re a great friend.  Rather not see more of you than I have to.”  Zaeed barked out a laugh.

“However much I would like to see that,” Regis began, smiling at Wren who sat down with a bowl and a datapad.  He pulled the datapad away from her with a pointed look.  She rolled her eyes and started eating.  “It’s still my tank top.  And l like that one.”

“Between the two of us, we have plenty,” Kaidan said between bites.  

“Whose side are you on?” Regis asked, putting his spoon down.

“The side of seeing Zee in an N7 tank top,” Kaidan replied with a smile on his face. “Everyone wins.”

As they continued to eat, the conversation changed subjects to the mission, all expressing disappointment at the outcome.  “EDI has situated herself in our-er the downstairs bedroom,” Wren said, reaching back out for her datapad.  Ashley and him shared a look, the same way Kaidan and Zaeed did, but Wren didn’t appear to notice.  Regis was tempted to just tell EDI already so she will make a move in lieu of Wren.

Regis gave it back to her.  “Don’t stay up too late pouring over reports when EDI can handle it without worrying about organic shit.”

“I make no promises.  But yes, I’m sure we’ll be working into the night.  We’ll try to get you a few hours of sleep instead of relying on stims, that I can promise you.”  

At that, Regis let out a yawn.  He finished off his soup and got up to put the bowl in the sink.  “And with that, I’m going to get some sleep and hope this all turns out to be some weird nightmare.”

“If only it were that easy,” Kaidan chuckled, moving to do the same.  “Good night, ladies, and good luck.”

“Try to actually get some sleep, boys, but by the way Regis here looks, he ain’t putting out tonight,” Ashley grinned.

Zaeed punched her lightly on the shoulder as he passed by.  “Trust me, the only thing this goddamn merc is doing is getting some rest.  Damn near gave me a heart attack when you sent that distress message.  I blame Kaid for calling that jinx.”

“Regis started it,” Kaidan replied, crossing his arms against his chest.  Regis didn't argue, he did make light of the whole weird email situation and he’s definitely regretting it now.  “Either way, it’s never a dull leave.  Hell, did anyone complain when you commandeered our apartment back?”

Regis didn’t even think to ask, too focused on getting some goddamn rest.  

Ashley shrugged.  “Not really.  Everyone understood.  Even Joker wished you weil.” “He did see me on the front lines.  Not easy when you’re always behind the scenes,” Regis said.  “Reassure everyone that I’m fine, but even their Admiral needs some time to himself.”

“Trust me, we did,” Wren said.  “Or at least, Vikram did in your place.  Everyone knows to listen to your doc.”

Regis smiled, stopping at the base of the stairway.  “Thanks, guys.  Remind me what I’ll do without you?”

“Hopefully you never find out,” Ashley replied good-naturedly, echoing what Kaidan and Zaeed said to him prior.  He rolled his eyes, but leaned into his lovers beside him all the same.  “Goodnight.”

Regis replied the same in response, as did Kaidan and Zaeed, and they hurried up the stairs.  Kaidan dimmed the lights in their bedroom, moving to turn down the covers while Regis and Zaeed went to do their nightly routines.  Regis admittedly rushed through them, the comfort of their bed calling for him throughout every step, barely spending the time to get his teeth cleaned and some of his piercings taken out before getting in the middle.  At a more subdued pace, his husbands finished their routines, sharing a quick kiss before crawling in the bed next to him.

Zaeed settled behind him while Kaidan was in front of him, turning to face Regis to kiss him softly and sweetly on the lips.  A lazy wave of his omnitool turned off the lights completely, leaving only a couple of night lights to light the way for the non-cybernetically enhanced members of their triad.

Zaeed pressed a kiss on the back of Regis’s neck, wrapping himself around him to make Regis his little spoon.  “We got you, baby,” he murmured.  “Safe in our arms.”

Regis smiled, cuddling up against him.  “I know.  This mission is getting to me.”

“I’m sure we’ll have some answers in the morning.  We’ll make them pay,” Kaidan said, his eyes flashing blue momentarily.

“I love you,” Regis said, cupping Kaidan’s face and glancing back at Zaeed.

“I love you too,” they echoed, and they all settled down in the comfort of their bed, in each other’s warmth, and hoped that this mess of a mission would be over soon.

[coffee-with-bucky]

Behind Those Eyes

Summary: You say those three special words to Viktor after being captivated by his endearing and expressive eyes.

Pairing: Viktor x Reader 

Words: 1.1K

Genre: Fluff

A/M: Listen, I’ve been shamefully playing League of Legends since high school and have only played Viktor in an ARAM game once. Little did I know years later I would fall for this man after watching Arcane. Anyways, I decided to throw my two cents into the Viktor fanfiction pool because I can’t stop thinking about him. Kept reader gender neutral. Glorious evolution!

They say that the eyes are the window to the soul – one’s essence could be captured and expressed in just a mere glance.

For most people, that may be true. For Viktor, you saw something else in those golden eyes of his.

While he gave the softest, loving, and tender gazes that were reserved for you, his eyes always had a glint – a spark that constantly burned with zeal for the things he was passionate for. His fervor for science, inventions, knowledge – all for a wish to make the world a better place.

His eyes may offer a glimpse into his soul, but Viktor’s eyes allowed his magnificent mind and intellect to observe, examine, stamp conclusions to his creations and test runs. His eyes were the window for his wonderful brain to look through.

You’ve known Viktor ever since you enrolled in the academy and have been in a loving relationship for several months.

You’ve come to determine that every time he worked at the lab, those eyes, you argued, worked just as hard as his brain did. Those fiery brown eyes were laser-focused when it came to the smallest of details – wide and in awe when a eureka moment struck and where he finally saw the bigger picture. Sometimes when the sun would hit through the windows of the lab just right, his eyes almost looked as if they glowed –  

“My love? Are you alright?”

His hand waved in your face, snapping you out of the haze of adoration you had relaxed yourself into. With a blink and a shake of your head, you realized you had stopped writing out your equation on the chalkboard.

Your eyes widened at the sight of the long and staggered line of white chalk that had sluggishly left your equation to the bottom of the board during your daydream.

Your face suddenly ignited, burning away at the apples of your cheeks.

Clearing your throat, you clumsily reached for the eraser to wipe out the evidence of your enamoured thoughts of your lover. Your heart drummed against your chest.

“Y-Yeah I’m good, Vik.” You sputtered, pretending to examine your equation as if you weren’t daydreaming about your boyfriend for who knows how long.

Viktor chuckled at your flustered state, lips curving into a gentle smile that always made your knees quiver.  

Stepping closer to you with his cane in hand, his other drifted towards your cheek – fingers delicately dancing across your heated skin. You leaned into his touch, kissing the palm of his hand as he cradled the side of your face.

“You know, if I’m that much of a distraction for you I can always send in a transfer for you to a different department – craft new hextech theories where you don’t have to be in the same room as your boyfriend.” He teased, a smug look lacing his features.

You scoffed, playfully swatting his hand away from your face, “Well, maybe I should. Then my steam of consciousness will be less inclined to say things like ‘Aw, Viktor looks so cute today,’ or ‘Aw, Viktor is so adorable when he twirls his hair and when he’s stuck at a problem,’ or ‘Oh my god, when Viktor handles a wrench, he looks so sexy – “

Viktor’s eyebrows shoot up, a reddened blush washes over his face, “S-Sexy?” While you had your heated and passionate moments with each other, you still knew how to push his buttons. “What else does that beautiful mind of yours think about?”

As a timid smile raised on your lips, you reached up to toy with his tie – keeping your eyeline focused on the knot. 

“How brilliant your mind is.” Laying a hand over his heart, you felt the swift rhythm thump under your palm. “How kind you are – the compassion and care you have for the world.” Your gaze drifted only slightly, looking at the tip of his chin, “And...”

You stopped yourself, those special three words danced at the tip of your tongue. There have been so many moments where you’ve wanted to confess those words to Viktor, but you stopped yourself shortly before you could – worried as to how he would react.

Suddenly, fingers lightly hooked under your chin, tilting your head up. The sight before you took your breath away – heart revving so fast that you swear that your heart was going to combust.

The sun had pierced through the windows, blanketing a golden and soft glow behind Viktor – the light haloed behind his hair.

But those damn eyes of his. Bronzed eyes gazed into yours, gentle, yet very attentive. A light pink flush powdered his cheeks.

“I can practically see the cogs and wheels turning in your mind, my love. What is it?” He asked with a slight tilt of his head.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you finally made your decision.

You were going to lay out all of your cards on the table. There was no going back.

“…I love you.” You barely whispered. You held your breath as Viktor stood still and stoic, his expression unreadable.

Before the feeling of regret could sink into your heart, Viktor’s eyes lit up – the glint that always blazed behind his eyes shined even brighter than you could imagine. The corner of his mouth, twitching into a smile.

Everything became a blur. A nose brushing against yours, the clang of his cane hitting the ground, warm and slightly chapped lips moulded to yours, an arm wrapped around your waist pulling you into a chest, and a hand cupping the side of your neck.

Your eyes fluttered closed as your lips moved slowly in tandem with his. Your hands reached his heated cheeks, thumbs sweeping against his defined cheekbones. Feeling Viktor smile against your lips made you grin back. He copies your movement, his thumb lovingly stroking against your jaw and making you melt into his touch. The kiss deepened when Viktor sighed, muffled against your mouth as the tips of tongues briefly touched. A profound giddiness clouded your mind as all of your thoughts and senses were consumed with Viktor.

You don’t know how much time had passed, but with you and Viktor standing there at the chalkboard with bodies and breaths tangled, you didn’t care.

Barely pulling away, Viktor rests his forehead to yours, brunette hair tickling your skin as panting was all that could be heard in the lab.

“You have no idea how much you make me happy, my love,” He laughed, “I… I love you too. I love you so, so much.”

A laugh bubbled through your chest as you embraced his middle, burying your face into the crook of his neck. Viktor wrapped his arms around you, gently kissing the crown of your head.

Taking a tiny step back, your breath lightly hitched.

The same glint remained behind his eyes, but you noted the change.

Behind those glassy brown eyes was love.

[apprenticestanheight]

The Last Star in the Galaxy- Viktor x gn! reader

Requests for Viktor are open! 

Fic type- this is really, it’s just--it’s severely heartachy fluff. I really needed a good cry and didn’t want to write angst so I wrote this instead

Warnings- this hasn’t been proofread

Throughout the decade that your relationship had gone on, you’d grown used to seeing two different sides of Viktor. In the workplace, affection was rare. 

A kiss to your cheek in passing on a particularly bad day, the use of ‘my love’ when mentioning you or asking you to pass him something were the only things of it that were commonplace. 

As the two of you left, Viktor would take your hand, interlace your fingers, and listen to you discuss the happenings of the day while the two of you were not either together or within close enough proximity. The moment you two were home, Viktor didn’t shy from pressing a kiss to your hand or telling you that he loved you, offering a sweater he’d bought with the intent of allowing you to ‘steal’ it. 

Weekends off were a rarity not often given to employees, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t patches of the day that were particularly slow. It was during one of these slower periods that you heard Viktors voice. 

“Dance with me, love,” he said. You looked up from the notes you were revising--his notes, to be precise. A set of things he’d jotted while observing the Hexcore only the pervious day--and scoffed at him, though you smiled as you did.

“To what music?” You asked.

“The music of our hearts, perhaps,” Viktor said before noticing the gramophone which had been placed in the farthest right corner of the room. It was one that Mel worked in from time to time, and she’d once told you that she kept it around in case she or yourself happened to want to listen to music to have something to bask in rather than the total silence otherwise. “Or your choice of the vinyls that Mel has bought for the gramophone.” 

You stood, rifling through her collection for a few minutes before landing on one you’d liked. You set it onto the gramophone, set the needle in the right spot, and grinned as you met Viktor near a desk. 

He wrapped an arm around your waist, the other one holding his crutch and keeping him upright. You rested your arms on either of his shoulders, the two of you beginning to sway to the melody.

“You missed me, Vik?” You asked. “Even during the slower parts of our days, you don’t normally come in asking me to dance.” 

“Yes, actually,” Viktor said. “We rarely get weekends off. We work twelve hours sometimes, sleep for eight. That’s four hours of me getting to admire you crammed into a day. I’ve missed you more and more lately, and I’ve decided to stop using the slower parts of our days to sit and do nothing. Dancing, talking, being in the same room as you, I need it to keep myself sane, I think.” 

“I’m not complaining at all,” you said. “I just--I was a bit taken aback, at first. You’re not quite the type to show affection in a work setting.”

“Jayce tends to tease me the moment I do more than glance lovingly at you when you’re not looking,” he said. “I can’t be bothered to care about it anymore, really. I can’t keep staring at my notepad wondering why the answers won’t come out of thin air. I can, however, take the time to spend it with you. Otherwise, most of the time we’ll have spent together will have been while we slept. Our work-life balance is pretty terrible.” 

You laughed. “Mhm. I agree with that, and I thank you for dancing with me at all. I love you so much, Vik.”

Viktor took a step closer, and suddenly, he was so close that you could feel his breath as he breathed in, out, against your lips. 

“I will love you until the last star in our galaxy dies out,” The words were followed by Viktor leaning back, resting his cane against the edge of the desk. He cupped your face in his hands for a moment, lips ghosting near your forehead until he felt you nod.

He pressed his lips to your forehead, allowing them to stay there for a long few moments as the two of you basked in what could only have been described as the purest form of contentment either of you had ever felt.

He pulled away, pulling you into a hug moments later.

“I love you,” he said. “I love you so much.” And really, truly, he did. He’d loved you since the two of you were eighteen and at the Piltover Academy together. He’d loved you when you were twenty-two and graduating with grins on your faces. He’d known he would love you for the rest of his life when he took Jayce with him to shop for an engagement ring at twenty six, needing a second opinion. You were the love of his life at twenty-seven as you said your ‘I do’s. You were the love of his life at thirty, as the two of you stood, wrapped in each others arms in the middle of an office space, a song playing faintly in the background. 

“I love you too,” you said. “Until the last star in our galaxy dies out.” The two of you pulled away as you said the words, and Viktor only grinned, pressing a quick, light kiss to your lips in response.

As Viktor ran a thumb across your cheek, catching a tear that’d skated down it in your moment of perfection, the office door opened.

“I knew you two were off being cute somewhere,” Jayce said with a laugh. Heimerdinger grinned, flexing his hands twice before moving them behind his back. “Heimerdinger wanted both of you to consult on a project he’s been working on. I offered to help him locate you two, and we’ve been looking for the better part of thirty minutes.”

“You’ve met your soulmate, Viktor,” Heimerdinger said. “They’re rare. Don’t happen often, but I really think the two of you were meant to be. I do request your council for this idea, but after, you two may go home. Enjoy the rest of the day to yourselves.”

Viktor cast a look at you as his hands moved from your face, one taking hold of your free hand, interlacing your fingers. 

“Thank you, Heimerdinger,” you said. 

He shook his head, pointing a finger in Viktors direction. “Until the last star in the galaxy dies is a very important vow. I expect you to keep it to them. Your partnership has done incredible things for Piltover. I don’t need that being messed with.”

Viktor laughed, a look of shock coming to his features. “How did you--”

“My hearing is impeccable. Now, if you will, our meeting will occur in my office.” 

Viktor and you both left, hands interlaced. As Jayce closed the door, Viktor pressed a kiss to your temple, feeling his heart fill with the love he felt, just as it always did when he looked at you. 

“I love you,” he mouthed as the two of you walked into Heimerdingers office.

“I love you too, Vik,” you mouthed back. “I vowed that I always would, and I don’t intend to break that any time soon.” 

Viktor let in the contentment he felt in that moment, knowing his words rang true.

You were the love of his life, really and truly. You’d be the one to hold such a candle until the last star in the galaxy finally died. There was no denying that. 

[incarnon]

ok sick. i wrote something obscenely horny and vik is demanding i post it on tumblr but i dont think i want it on main so gdocs link under the cut. laz and lodun fuck nasty

FAIR WARNING this was literally just supposed to be an outline for something i wanted to write at a later date which is why it starts off so choppy. kept getting carried away though. i did this all in one sitting in about three and a half hours of frenzied typing with very little proofreading or backtracking so its VERRRY rough but i hardly ever do stuff like this so i figured id share. for those out of the loop the desire spiral has to do with vik's orowyrm oc larimar, detailed it a bit here on main but tthe gist of it is its meant to be like super romantic and lovey dovey because lari is trying to win rigel's affection and spend time with him but has the unintended effect of uhm. erm. well. youll see

this is stupid whatever okay bye [vanishes]

testing testing 123 anyone still following this blog ?