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tired-truffle · 2 months ago

Text

Even the Gods Cry For Us

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 6.4k

Part 14/17

Tag list: @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @potatointhedirt (if anyone else would like to be tagged with future updates let me know!)

"I know my existence is temporary and so is yours. But god, please, as much as I love the stars they don't last forever. I don't mind being temporary as long as it means I'm temporary with you. I would paint a hundred more stars in the sky if it meant you never burnt out." - ambsthom

Warnings: Episode 6 of season 2

Masterlist

Frozen, your legs unresponsive in their stride. Your ears rang, not with the white noise that signalled your magic, but with echoes of words spoken between teacher and former pupil.

“You’re power is finite, diminished by every use.”

“The regenerative qualities of his blood will stabilize you. Apex Shimmer combined with you, the apex form of Hextech. And to think of what it could do for your lover…Mila is her name, isn’t it?”

Singed, or Dr. Reveck, as your brain supplied, though you couldn’t place the significance of his name.

It came to you in a rush, little details you hadn’t noticed until they converged into a bigger picture. Viktor’s winces when his magic faltered - he’d brushed it off as nothing more than feeling the complexities of Vander’s psyche. The exhaustion that clung to the skin under his eyes as of late, the paleness he’d chalked up to spending most of his time inside the greenhouse. The purply-grey and lines of gold that had begun to reach for his eyes, traverse across his forehead. He’d dismissed it all, and in your need for reassurance, you hadn’t challenged him. You’d believed him. Yet he seemed to know exactly what the doctor told him, like he had known for some time.

“He’s a man. And he needs my help.” Viktor paused, his sympathy for Vander running deep within his tone. “I will not sacrifice his humanity for your cause. You may leave.”

“Very well,” Dr. Reveck said, resigned too easily to be sincere. “But I assume you understand already, if you perish, this community is soon to follow. And how long will your beloved Mila last without you, do you think? You of all people know how…volatile Shimmer can be.”

Heavy boots padded towards you, and you stood still as Dr. Reveck approached. His gaunt figure cut a stark silhouette against the greenhouse's luscious backdrop.

As he passed, his piercing eyes locked onto yours. "Mila," he intoned, a slight nod accompanying the greeting.

He continued down the path, his coat rustling softly against the foliage. Just as you thought the moment had passed, his voice drifted back, barely loud enough for you to hear. "You did the unthinkable to keep him alive. It would be a shame if all your hard work and sacrifice didn't make a difference in the end."

The words hit you like a physical blow, stealing the air from your lungs. Memories you'd buried deep clawed their way to the surface - the fire that ate at your skin, the metallic tang of blood, life slipping away beneath your hands. You wanted to scream, to lash out, but your body remained stubbornly immobile.

Dr. Reveck's footsteps faded, leaving you alone with the thundering of your heart and the whisper of leaves as they responded to your magic, crackling along your limbs. You stepped forward in a daze, your legs unsteady as if you'd forgotten how to walk.

Viktor stood tall beside Vander, his head tilted in deep thought. If he’d noticed you he made no motion to acknowledge it.

You shook your head, struggling to find the words. "Viktor, I thought we talked about you telling me when something is…going on," you finally managed, your voice trembling. "Your magic, your life force, is fading and somehow you managed to hide it from me - or maybe I was just foolish enough to trust you at your word."

Viktor turned towards you then, guilt washing over his features. He opened his mouth, closed it, then sighed heavily. "I…yes. I didn't know how to inform you of my decline. You've been happy lately, for the first time in ages you’ve been without suffering. It felt wrong to steal that away."

The greenhouse suddenly felt too small, the air too thick. You paced, your footsteps echoing off the glass windows. Flowers bloomed around you in a riot of colour, their sweet scent nauseating. You’d stored as much of your magic away in the sparks as you could, but being so heightened had your emotions pulling on it against your will.

"Wrong to steal that away?" you repeated, incredulity seeping between your teeth. "How can we face what's coming if we're not honest with each other?"

Viktor's shoulders slumped and he turned his face to the side. "I believed that I could handle it on my own, find a solution before…"

"Before what?" you demanded, whirling to face him. "Before you collapsed? Before your magic gave out entirely and you died?" Your voice cracked on the last word, fear threading through your anger.

Viktor flinched as if you'd struck him. "I didn't wish to worry you," he said softly. "I thought I could spare you this."

You laughed, a bitter sound that tasted like ashes in your mouth. "Viktor, this is the opposite of sparing me. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that before you get it through your apparently leaden skull!"

Silence fell between you, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of your face and you wiped it away with a shaking hand. The greenhouse's climate control system hummed softly.

"How long?" you asked, dreading the answer.

Viktor held your gaze, his jaw tense. "I have time. It’s not immediate. I would have informed you if the situation became dire.”

Your anger dissolved into a piercing ache, like he’d taken a needle to your heart. Your eyes stung with unshed tears as you stared at Viktor, this man you'd trusted with your life, your heart, your soul. How could he have kept something so significant from you? You knew the answer, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

"I can't believe you," you whispered, your voice thick as you swallowed back your tears. "After everything we've been through, all our talks of facing things together, and you do this?" You ran a hand through your hair, tugging at the roots in frustration.

A terrible thought struck you then, cold and sharp as an icicle through your chest. "Do you not…trust me?" It came out small and broken as though you were afraid to say it aloud.

Viktor's eyes widened, a flash of panic crossing his face. "No, that's not it at all," he insisted, reaching out to you. But you stepped back, your body instinctively recoiling from his touch.

"I don't believe anything you say right now." The words tasted sour on your tongue, like the caustic smoke of burning bridges. "I need space."

You turned away, unable to bear the sight of his stricken face any longer. The greenhouse stretched out before you and you longed to lose yourself in its winding paths, to disappear among the exotic blooms and delicate foliage.

"We’ll talk about this later," you added, glancing over your shoulder. Viktor stood frozen, his hand still outstretched, a statue of regret. "But not right now. I just…I can't."

With a heavy heart, you strode away from Viktor. As you reached the greenhouse door, you paused. Without looking back, you could feel Viktor's pleading gaze boring into you, heavy with desperate apologies he didn’t voice - out of respect for your request for space or too stunned at your anger. The weight of it pressed against your spine, urging you to turn around, to forgive, to understand.

But you couldn't. Not yet. With a deep breath, you pushed open the door and stepped out into the fresh air, leaving behind the man you loved and the trust that lay shattered like shards of broken glass.

You made your way through the winding paths of the commune, your vision blurred by brimming tears. The vibrant colours and bustling activity around you became distorted, as if seen through a sheer veil of gauze. The sounds of life in the commune faded into an indistinguishable hum, overridden by the pounding of your heart in your ears.

Your feet carried you to the outskirts of the settlement, where the neat rows of buildings gave way to fields of produce, carefully tended, but deserted as lunch rolled around.

You sank to your knees among the high-reaching stalks, finally allowing the tears to fall. They streamed down your cheeks, hot and salty, dripping like raindrops onto the earth, the dirt soaking them up like a sponge.

Your body remained still, no tremors or sobs, only a silent cry. The emptiness inside you had numbed any deeper emotions. Had you left your heart behind with Viktor?

You didn't hear the approaching footsteps. It wasn't until a gentle hand touched your shoulder that you realized you weren't alone. You looked up, hastily wiping at your eyes, to see Charlotte's kind face peering down at you.

"Oh, sweetheart," she sighed, as warm and comforting as a well-worn blanket.

You tried to smile, to put on a brave face, but your lips trembled traitorously. "I'm fine," you managed to croak out, sounding hollow even to your own ears.

Charlotte's eyes, wise and knowing, saw right through your feeble attempt at deception. She lowered herself to the ground beside you, her movements slow and deliberate. "You know," she said, a hint of levity in her tone, "it's been a long time since I've had a daughter cry to me about a boy. You'd be making me feel young again if you'd indulge me."

Her words registered slowly, like honey dripping through your consciousness. Daughter. The word echoed in your mind, a simple yet profound revelation. It didn't matter if she had called you her daughter or simply a daughter; the significance remained the same. With a choked sob, you collapsed against her, burying your face in her shoulder.

Charlotte's arms enveloped you, strong and secure. The delicate scent of herbs and sunshine, of home and the sweetness of motherly love clung to her. Her hand stroked your back in calm circles as you cried, your tears soaking into the fabric of her dress.

"Let it all out, dear,” she soothed. “You're safe here."

And so you did. You poured out your soul to her, the words spilling from your lips in a jumbled rush. You told her about Viktor's fading magic and the burden it placed on his body, about his withholding the truth, and the fear and hurt that pecked at your insides like a hungry bird. You couldn’t lose him, not again. Charlotte listened, patient and understanding, and you were thankful for every second she gave you.

Once the tears had slowed and you’d fallen into silence, Charlotte gently pulled back, her hands on your shoulders. She studied your face, her eyes soft with understanding. "Now then," she said, "let's untangle this mess, shall we?"

You nodded, wiping your dripping nose on your sleeve. Charlotte produced a handkerchief from her pocket, embroidered with delicate flowers. You accepted it gratefully.

"First things first," Charlotte began, settling more comfortably on the ground. A breeze rustled through the stalks, carrying the earthy scent of tilled soil and ripening vegetables. "You're hurt because he didn't tell you his life-sustaining magic was finite, yes?"

You nodded, twisting the handkerchief in your hands. "He promised we'd face things together. How can we do that if he keeps hiding things from me?"

Charlotte hummed thoughtfully, her fingers absently plucking a nearby weed. "Men," she said, a wry smile tugging at her lips, "have a funny way of trying to protect us. They think by shouldering burdens alone, they're sparing us pain." She shook her head, chuckling softly. "Fools, the lot of them."

You laughed, a watery sound that loosened the knot in your chest.

"Now," Charlotte continued, growing more serious, "that doesn't excuse his actions. You have every right to be hurt and angry." She reached out, taking your hand in hers. Her skin was warm and weathered, a lifetime of hard work carved into every line and callus. "But ask yourself this: do you think he kept this from you out of malice? Or out of misguided love?"

You closed your eyes, picturing Viktor's face when you'd confronted him. The guilt, the sorrow, the desperate need to explain. "Love," you whispered, opening your eyes to meet Charlotte's knowing gaze.

Charlotte nodded, squeezing your hand. "There's your answer, then. He made a mistake, a big one, but his heart was in the right place."

You sighed, shoulders falling forward. "What if he keeps doing this, thinking it's for my own good? I’ve already asked him not to and yet here we are."

Charlotte was quiet for a moment, her eyes distant as she watched the stalks sway. "Trust is like a garden. It needs constant tending. Sometimes weeds spring up, and you have to pull them out by the roots. But if the soil is good, if there's love at the foundation, it can grow back stronger than ever."

You mulled over her words, plucking absently at a nearby weed. "So what do I do now?"

Charlotte smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "You talk to him. You tell him how you’re feeling. And then you listen. Really listen. Not just to his words, but to what's behind them." She patted your hand. "And remember, it's okay to be angry. It's okay to need time. Healing isn't always quick or easy."

The path ahead wasn't clear, but at least now you had a direction. "Thank you," you breathed, leaning in to hug Charlotte tightly.

She returned the embrace with a soft pat on your back. "Anytime, Mila. That's what mothers are for."

As you pulled away, you bit your lip. "Charlotte," you began hesitantly, "you called me ‘a daughter’ earlier. Did you mean that like in general, or more specifically?"

You weren’t sure that you could have asked more awkwardly than that.

A tender smile played on her lips. "Family isn't just blood, you know. It's the people who stand by you, who love you even when you're at your worst." She cupped your cheek gently. "And you, my dear, have become as much a daughter to me as if I'd borne you myself."

Hot tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they were tears of pure joy. Unable to contain yourself, you threw your arms around Charlotte once more in a crushing hug. "Thank you," you sniffled, "I've missed having a mother."

Charlotte petted your hair, humming softly. "Well, you have one now. And I'm not going anywhere."

You stayed like that for a long moment, and when you finally pulled away, you felt steadier, more grounded. The hurt was still there, a dull ache in your chest, but it no longer rose up your throat like bile.

"I should go talk to Viktor," you said, rising to your feet and brushing dirt from your clothes.

Charlotte nodded, accepting your offered hand to help her up. "Remember," she said, giving you a final squeeze, "love isn't about never making mistakes. It's about how you handle them when they happen."

You smiled, feeling a surge of affection for this wise, kind woman. "I'll remember," you promised.

And you did.

You found Viktor in your shared room, halting his pacing mid-stride when you crossed the threshold, his doleful eyes locking onto yours. His hair was dishevelled, as if he’d been running his fingers through it repeatedly.

“I wanted to say—”

“Milá, it wasn’t my—”

You both spoke at the same time, stopping abruptly when you registered it. A rueful smile tugged at your lips despite the heaviness in your chest.

"You go first," you said quickly.

Viktor shook his head. "No, you. I insist."

With a deep sigh, you moved further into the room, stopping a few feet away from him - even as you longed to close the distance. Your hands clasped behind your back, fingers twisting nervously.

"I'm hurt," you began, your voice soft but steady. "I'm hurt that you didn't share this with me."

Viktor’s face twisted into a grimace, his eyes clouding with guilt. You pressed on, determined to say your piece.

"But I know you didn't do it to be cruel. You were trying to protect me." You paused, gathering your thoughts. "I understand that impulse, I know I’ve done it before, and I don’t fully know why this instance has affected me so much. Maybe I’m just tired of it, or maybe every time your mortality is in question I’m brought back to the same place I was for seven years; wondering if I won’t be enough to keep you alive. And I can’t even imagine how this must feel for you, it's your life and your body and it all just makes me so angry that you have to carry this, but I wish you would see that you don’t have to do it alone. We’ve fought so hard and it's so unfair and I can’t lose you again, Viktor, I won’t.”

You sucked in a shuddering breath, pinching the bridge of your nose to keep the tears at bay. To Viktor’s credit, he gave you space, waiting patiently for you to compose yourself.

Exhaling through your nose, you tucked your clenched fists into your pockets. “We're together. In everything. That means sharing the burdens, the fears, the ugly truths. Even when it's hard. Especially when it's hard."

Viktor nodded solemnly, his gaze never leaving your face. "I'm sorry, miláčku" he whispered, guttural with remorse. "It was not my intention to cause you distress, in fact, it was quite the opposite. But I recognize that it was the result all the same. If you are open to hearing it, I would appreciate the opportunity to explain further, as I have had time to reflect.”

You unclenched your hands, letting them fall to your sides. “Go ahead.”

With a deep, heavy sigh, Viktor began, “I am aware that you do not expect me to heal you as I have the others, but I find myself struggling with my lack of ability. It has always been my greatest desire to provide help and support for those who have no one else to turn to, and it has been difficult for me to let go of this when it comes to you. Without realizing it, I transferred this…need to heal into a need to protect - even from things that you did not wish to be protected from. I only wanted to minimize the harm done to you, as you have suffered enough, more than anyone should. But I now see that this was not the correct path, and I apologize that I betrayed your trust in this matter.”

He took a tentative step toward you, his hand outstretched but not quite touching. "Do you think that in time, you could forgive me?" he asked.

You studied him, taking in the dark circles under his eyes, the tension in his jaw, the subtle tremble of his fingers. This was the man you loved, every flaw and vice. He’d stood by you through countless struggles, had held you as you came down from your nightmares, whispering soothing words in the dark. He had brought you back from the brink of death, sacrificing himself in the process, and had cared for you when you’d been so lost in your own mind that you hadn’t been able to care for yourself.

"I'd be a bit of a hypocrite if I didn't," you said with a wry grin. "We've both made mistakes. What matters is that we learn from them, right?"

Relief washed over Viktor's face, his tense features softening with gratitude. Without hesitation, he closed the distance between you, his hand cupping your cheek with infinite tenderness, and you leaned into his touch.

"Thank you, lásko," he breathed, low and reverent.

You tilted your chin up, meeting his gaze. Viktor's eyes flicked to your lips, a question in their depths. You answered by pressing forward and slanting your mouth across his in a soft, sweet kiss.

Viktor's lips were warm and pliant against yours, tasting faintly of mint and honey. His hand slid from your cheek to tangle in your hair, cradling the back of your head. You gripped his robes, feeling the soft fabric beneath your fingers, anchoring yourself as the world spun around you.

As you finally pulled back, your chest heaving and your cheeks flushed, you opened your eyes - only to be met with a shock. Where Viktor's handsome face should have been, there was now a cold, unfeeling metal mask. It stretched from his forehead - two horn-like protrusions on either side - to just below his jawline. A thin metal bar ran down the center, dividing his face into two halves that lay still and undisturbed in their slumber.

With a startled gasp, you jumped out of Viktor's embrace. You blinked rapidly at the floor, willing the hallucination to disappear. When you dared to look up again, Viktor as you knew him had returned, the metal mask vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

"Milá?" Viktor's brow scrunched with worry, his hand hovering uncertainly between you. "Are you alright?"

You swallowed hard, trying to calm your racing pulse. "I'm fine," you managed, your voice slightly shaky. "Just…another hallucination, I think."

Viktor took a cautious step toward you, moving slowly as if approaching a spooked animal - it felt mildly accurate so you remained uninsulated. "What did you see?"

You hesitated, unsure how to describe the unsettling vision. "It's that same metal mask I saw before.” You searched Viktor's face for any hint of recognition and he nodded his understanding - though you found nothing deeper. "It covered your whole face, with a bar across your forehead and down the middle. And on either side, it looked like…like your face was sleeping? I don’t know, but I got a better look this time."

Viktor's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of something - surprise? fear? - passing over his features before he schooled his expression back to neutrality. "That sounds…disconcerting," he said.

You nodded, rubbing your arms. “At least they aren’t as frequent as before I got control of myself. I can handle a few jump scares here and there.” You laughed nervously, giving him a tentative grin.

“You’re sure that they are simply hallucinations?” Viktor asked, eyes narrowed in thought.

You frowned, considering Viktor's question. The hallucinations had become such a part of your life that you'd almost stopped questioning them. But now, faced with Viktor's probing gaze, you found yourself re-examining your experiences.

"I thought they were," you said slowly even as your mind raced with the implications. "They've always felt so seamless, you know? Like reality just shifted for a second." You gestured vaguely, trying to put the feeling into words. "Not like before the attack on the council, when I'd feel myself being pulled away. Now it snaps back to normal so quickly I can almost convince myself it never happened."

Viktor paced a few steps, his long fingers steepled beneath his chin. "Have you noticed any patterns?" he asked. "Any commonalities?"

You chewed your lip, your gaze drifting to the potted plant on the windowsill. "Maybe? It seems to happen most with you and the other members of the commune, but it's not like I’ve spent much time around anyone else," you ventured, uncertainty colouring your tone. "I don't know though. I try not to think about them, but maybe I should."

"It's okay," he said, reaching out to take your hand. "These glimpses can be difficult to pin down. But I think it might be worthwhile to pay closer attention in the future. Perhaps keeping a journal would help?"

You considered his suggestion, absently tracing patterns on the back of his hand with your thumb. The idea of cataloging your hallucinations was both intriguing and slightly terrifying. What if you found something you didn't want to know? But it would be better to be prepared.

"You're right," you said finally, meeting Viktor's gaze. "I'll give it a try. It can’t hurt."

The pride that radiated from him was enough to reinforce your decision. While nervousness and unease may prick at your neck, when Viktor looked at you like you hung the moon and the stars and everything in between, you found yourself unable to be afraid.

The warm rays of the afternoon sun were making their slow descent as you meandered through the commune. Before attempting to write down any of your observations on your hallucinations, you needed to organize your thoughts - and what better way to do that than to get fresh air and take a stroll?

As you rounded a corner, lost in contemplation, you collided with something unexpectedly solid.

"Oof!" came a startled yelp as you both stumbled backward.

When you caught yourself, narrowly avoiding falling on our ass, you found yourself face-to-face with Jinx, her electric blue braids askew from the impact.

"Oh, sorry!" you exclaimed. "Didn't see you there.” At a loss for anything else to say, you went with, “I believe Vander’s still in the greenhouse if you're looking for him."

“Of course he is.” Jinx rolled her eyes, dusting off her pin-stripped pants. “He won’t stop picking the flowers and givin’ ‘em to me.”

A smile tugged at your lips, warmth tingling in your chest at the thought of Vander's sweet gesture. "Aww, that's so-"

"Ugh, not you too," Jinx groaned, throwing her hands up dramatically. "It's not cute, it's annoying. Do you know how many flower crowns I've had to wear this week? My head looks like a walking garden!"

You couldn't help but giggle at her exasperation, picturing Jinx adorned with a rainbow of flowers. The image was both endearing and slightly ridiculous. Hadn’t she blown up the council just a few weeks ago?

Jinx shuffled her feet, her eyes darting around as if searching for an escape route. "Well, anyway," she said, her voice pitched slightly higher than normal, "wouldn't want to keep you from your Machine Herald’s loving arms, so I’d best be off."

The words hit you like a bucket of ice water poured over your head. You stared at Jinx, your mouth hanging open in shock. "What…” you swallowed thickly, “what did you just say?"

"What?”

“You called Viktor the Machine Herald.”

“Well, yeah.” She played with the end of her braid, a nervous gesture that you had noticed in your limited interactions. “Everyone calls him the Herald, and he's part machine, isn't he? So, Machine Herald." She shrugged as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Your vision from Progress Day - it had only been months, but it felt like years - that man with the large metal armour, his face behind a mask with glowing yellow eyes, came to the forefront of your mind. His shaggy, dark brown hair reminded you distinctly of Viktor’s, but outside of that, they bore little resemblance. Unless…the arm on his back, a laser at the centre, you’d seen one just like it; it looked identical to the one that Viktor had invented for Piltover’s artificers.

No, it couldn’t be.

But your vision had supplied his name: The Machine Herald. With your hallucinations - could you even call them that anymore? - there were too many similarities to ignore your unease.

Shaking your head, you said in a rush, “I have to go.”

“Uh, see you later then!” You heard Jinx call after you, but you were already moving.

The world around you blurred, colours and shapes melting together as your feet carried you forward on autopilot, weaving through the commune's winding paths without conscious thought.

The Machine Herald. Viktor. The two names clashed in your mind like cymbals, sending shockwaves through your soul. How could they be one and the same? The Viktor you knew was kind, compassionate, driven by a desire to help others. The Machine Herald from your vision had been cold, ruthless, more machine than man as he stood amongst the rubble, ready to fight.

Your mind raced, piecing together fragments of memory, frantic in your approach. Viktor's fascination with technology, his tireless work to improve the lives of those around him. The gleam in his eyes when he spoke of progress, of pushing the boundaries of what was possible. Had that passion twisted into something darker in your vision of the future?

You thought of the metal arm you'd seen and the one that Viktor had created; the Hex Claw, he’d called it. The Machine Herald’s was so similar to Viktor's in design - attached to their backs, a high-powered light or laser at the palm, and three pincers - yet weaponized, turned from an instrument of creation to one of destruction. How many steps separated the two? How fine was the line between innovation and devastation?

A butterfly fluttered past, its delicate wings a vibrant blue against the pale sky. You watched it dance on the breeze, soaking in its fragile beauty. Was this how Viktor saw the world? As something delicate, in need of protection and improvement? Would that view somehow warp?

You knew, deep in your bones, that the Machine Herald was a figure to be wary of. But why? What had you seen in that fleeting vision that filled you with such dread? Try as you might, you couldn't recall any specific actions, only the overwhelming sense of wrongness that had permeated the air around him.

You took a deep breath, centring yourself. There was only one way forward: you had to talk to Viktor. Maybe, if you worked it out together, you could find a way to stop him from falling down that slippery slope.

It was then that it hit you, like a slimy snake slithering over the back of your neck, its tongue flickering against the shell of your ear; that feeling of imminent danger, of death, of being watched, had returned. You’d thought it was gone when you’d tucked away your magic, a by-product of your hallucinations that wasn’t real. You were safe here, this was your home, but as you shuddered, that snake - that foreboding feeling - wrapped itself around your spine and squeezed.

Something was very, very wrong - and your magic had been trying to warn you. You hadn’t listened.

You needed to find Viktor, now.

It took no more than a split second for you to turn, pulling your magic from the sparks as you did so, facing towards the orb-like building - towards your room, your safe place where you and Viktor had spent countless nights curled up together - just in time to see someone disappearing into the building.

The man's dirty white coat flapped in the breeze, and in his hand, he clutched an unnatural-looking hammer, held up by his broad shoulders and muscular arms. Your heart skipped a beat. Surely that couldn't be who you thought it was? At that distance, it was impossible to tell.

Dread filled your lungs, a thick and suffocating fog. You broke out into a sprint, each step fueled by your magic and pushing you to inhuman speeds. But you were halfway across the compound, and you wasted precious seconds in your panic.

You reached the building, but it was too late.

Before you could catch a glimpse inside, a deafening boom reverberated through the ground as the top of the building erupted in a violent explosion - shattered like a bullet through a skull. The force of the blast slammed into you, lifting you off your feet and hurling you backward with an alarming velocity.

You landed hard on your back, the breath knocked from your lungs, but adrenaline surged, and though your head pounded, you scrambled to your feet. Your ears rang with a high-pitched whine and white-hot panic rattled your bones.

Viktor was in there.

Ignoring the protests of your bruised body, you burst through the entryway, your heart beating a frantic rhythm against your ribs.

Please, if any gods are listening, I am begging you to let Viktor be okay. I will do anything you ask, just let him live.

You stopped short, your panicked gaze pulled to the man heaving for breath before you.

“Jayce?” Up close, you’d recognize that jacket anywhere, stretched across his wide shoulders, metal embellishments upon stark white fabric. Or rather, dirt-covered, off-white fabric, torn at the hems. His hammer had changed and become…warped by the arcane, you could feel the wild magical energy pulsating off the device like it had a heartbeat of its own.

Chest heaving with stilted breath, he turned towards you, hammer pointed at your chest. Teeth barred in a snarl, lips scarred and dry, eyes darting over you, searching and seeking. For what, you didn’t know. He planted his feet, your gaze catching on the brace that held his left leg, the shaggy length of his hair, the beard and the grime that covered his face.

He was your friend, Viktor’s friend, he’d never hurt you. But the explosion, you’d felt it beneath your feet, had seen the shards of the dome crack and float in the air like broken bones suspended in time.

“What…” A whisper, a tendril of wind curled beneath your chin, serene and tranquil, pulling your gaze away from your friend - weapon aimed at your chest, gritting his teeth, shoulders tense as he ducked his head - and towards the figure laying crumpled on the floor.

All sound cut out, replaced by a ringing silence. Your lungs emptied of oxygen, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever taken a breath before in your life, you no longer knew how. A chill spread through your heavy limbs, accompanied by the sharp prickling of pins and needles. Your vision swam, your feet tripping over each other as you struggled to maintain balance. Distantly, you registered a dome of blue energy forming around Jayce, and his agitation as he pounded against the barrier, yelling warnings you couldn’t hear.

“No, no, no,” you breathed as your lungs expanded against your will, ragged and wheezing.

It couldn’t be him, not after everything you’d been through, everything you’d survived together.

And yet there Viktor was, lying slumped against the wall, eyes fluttering as the hole in his chest sparked and spluttered with each laboured inhale.

Your feet felt like lead and you fell to your knees beside him, ignoring the sharp pain as your bones collided with the hard floor. Your hands shook so uncontrollably that you almost couldn’t move him to cradle his head into your lap.

A gear fell from his palm, rolling away, and he smiled weakly at you but you didn’t miss the fear that stopped it from reaching his eyes. Your chin wobbled, a barely contained sob stretching your ribcage, feeling like it may crack.

“Viktor, please,” you begged, “you promised.” You bite your lip, tears streaming down your cheeks. “You promised you wouldn’t leave me. We’re supposed to do this together.”

He coughed once, lacking any real force. He couldn’t clear a gaping hole from his chest. “I’m…” his breath rattled once as he inhaled, he reached up and his arm trembled with the effort. He tapped your chest once, over your heart, arm falling back to his side. “Here. Always.”

He went still, peaceful, almost as if he was asleep, but his eyes remained open, devoid of any light, and his chest did not move with breath. Your hand fluttered over his face, shaking along with your body.

“No,” you sobbed, breaking over the vowel, hot tears falling onto his lifeless face, serene and beautiful, even in death. Not like this, not again. “Please, don’t go, please, Viktor, I need you, I need you, please.”

Your head snapped up, weeping around scattered breaths as you focused on the man responsible for this. His jaw hung slack, hammer dangling limply at his side. The barrier flickered and spat.

"Give him back!" you screamed, voice raw and cracking. "Bring him back, Jayce! You did this, now fix it!"

But no amount of begging would revive him. You could plead and pray to the Gods themselves but they wouldn’t not answer your call. What had been done could not be undone. Jayce didn’t need to respond, you already knew.

Beneath your hands, Viktor’s life spark extinguished, and your heart crumbled to ash and dust.

A blood-curdling, keening wail rent itself from your throat, primal and filled with anguish. You cried your grief into a world that didn’t care, curling into his body, holding him tight against you like you could hold onto him for just a little longer, stretch your last seconds with him. But time was not your friend, and it kept moving, without Viktor.

You screamed and you cried and something inside your chest snapped. Years ago, when you’d learned what a Motus Mage could do, you’d sworn that you would never fall into that trap. But then you’d fallen in love - had already been in love, if you were being honest with yourself, head over heels for that wonderful man. And he had been stolen from you, while your back was turned. By someone who had called himself a friend.

Why?

Why did you let your guard down?

Why did Jayce do this?

Why did the world give you Viktor only to rip him from your side?

Why did Soraka say that you could save this world if the one you wanted to save it for wasn’t going to be a part of it?

You were a woman grieving the loss of her beloved, a daughter who’d found a mother and now sat on the precipice of losing her too, a friend who’d lost all who saw her that way - a mage whose vast wealth of power was tied to your emotions, and the strength of your loss, your sorrow and pain, shredded your restraints like fine paper.

Your magic exploded from you like a supernova, raw power erupting from every pore. Your hair whipped wildly around your face, each strand crackling with arcane energy.

Time seemed to slow, the world around you grinding to a halt. Specks of dust hung suspended in the breeze, glittering like stars in the eerie stillness. Jayce’s fist, pounding against your barrier once more, froze mid-beat. Even the tears on your cheeks paused in their descent, tiny crystals of grief suspended in time.

For a heartbeat, everything was perfectly, impossibly still.

Then, with a sound like reality itself tearing apart, a blinding white light erupted from your body. It consumed everything - the room, Viktor's lifeless form, your own anguished face - until there was nothing left but pure, searing radiance.

You fell back, and there was only nothingness. Weightless, dark, nothingness.

Next Chapter

A/N: Please don’t hate me, I promise there is still gonna be a happy ending! The next chapter will be up tomorrow.

At least Viktor didn’t die before they resolved their fight…aha

You're welcome to yell at me in the comments or join the Discord server and yell at me there! (We also have art and general fun chats about arcane)

#angst with a happy ending #fluff #viktor x you #viktor x reader #machine herald viktor #viktor arcane #season 2 arcane #I promise the ending will be happy!#jayce talis #jinx arcane #vander #hurt/comfort #fools in love #mage #magic

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