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tales-from-elysivm · 8 months ago

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Jinx x f!reader and their first kiss, date, time, fight, all that couple stuff short little pieces of girlies being cute

★。／ get jinxed ＼。★

pairing: jinx x f!reader

fandom: arcane

word count: 1,612

tw: canon typical swearing/slang, some light spoiler warnings, and some suggestive/NSFW content! MDNI!

notes: this is a fic i am really excited for! Thank you again for the request anon! It was really fun to write, and i got through it pretty quickly to be perfectly honest because of that haha. Not proofread because im tired, and i have no shame :D enjoy!

! be sure to like and reblog if you enjoyed !

➼ first date with jinx

You worked under Silco delivering shimmer across Zaun. Of course, you knew you shouldn’t have been doing this, it could get you arrested without question and you’d find yourself in Stillwater. But it paid well, and working so closely with the Eye of Zaun meant you didn’t have to worry as much about danger in Zaun. People saw you as a god-send, you gave them their weekly hit, if anything, the danger made them respect you.

It was during this time that you met Jinx, while picking up your next delivery of shimmer from Silco’s warehouse. She had been there to speak with him privately about some arson issue that happened in Piltover. You had heard briefly about a lanky, blue-haired girl that would build bombs in the open space beneath the warehouse, but it was rare that anyone had ever seen her. But you managed. Somehow.

She intercepts you on your trade route, setting bombs off in the street just across from one of your clients. Jinx claims to recognise you from skulking around the warehouse. And at some point her chaotic energy and her strange inability to sit still seems to lull you into some sense of security. She’s just the perfect idea of unpredictability that you needed in your otherwise boring Zaunite lifestyle. (Though you were very lucky, all things considered.)

Your first date is a simple diner one. At first, you didn’t even know it was a date, just that she wanted to do something fun with you. She takes you in to meet her favourite bartender Chuck, who seems to almost slink beneath the counter when she drags you in. I feel like Jinx would give you a little monkey bomb as a gift for your first date - though it isn’t set, it’s pretty harmless. Other than that she bombards you with strange bursts of Jinx-aligned humour, and rambles at length about her various inventions, promising to take you down to her workshop to show you everything, while tightly gripping your fingers with chipped blue nails.

And something in those bright, blue eyes makes you think that maybe this unpredictability could be quite fun.

‘Don’t ya get bored frownin’ like that?’ jinx drums her nails on her glass, the clinking echoing throughout the empty bar. It was quite odd, you reckon, for it to be this quiet, but maybe its just jinx.

In her own way of trying to get a smile out of you she starts spouting some random jokes. Tries telling her own funny stories. They all mostly revolve around bombs or explosive presentations she’s organised at piltover events. Mainly the absurdity of it all gets a laugh out of you, or you just smile at the giddy, child-like happiness you see in her eyes. Something that seems so pure (ignoring the fact that she’s probably an arsonist and on several watchlists)

‘There ya go!’ she cheers, grabbing onto your hands and interlacing your fingers. You think maybe you should paint your nails too to match her, see if it makes her happy. ‘You look so much prettier with a smile, trinket’

➼ first kiss with jinx

It was after your third or fourth date that you ended up spending your free time in the warehouse. Jinx begins showing you all the new inventions she’s making, and all her designs for cartoony monkey bombs, you even help her draw out a few, including a cutesy little cat one that she isn’t as fond of, but she still makes one for you.

Most of your relationship consists of Jinx making you little trinkets, like keychains, safe bombs, little bracelets and rings, and strange, misshapen sculptures made of leftover metal pieces.

She loves you, in a very Jinx-way. She’s touchy but never very pushy. Long hugs, cuddles on a couch that she has balancing on a metal propellor in her warehouse, letting you braid her hair when she’s tired (please brush her hair, she will melt, and she needs some softness), holding hands in Zaun or dragging you to her private meetings with Silco. Whether you like it or not, you have the Eye of Zaun as an adopted father figure now. He isn’t quite sure what to think about it either.

It is one of those cuddle sessions, after she is plagued by the voices that taunt her, that you end up just holding her face into your neck and sitting with her. These are the most important to her, like she can feel safe for once.

‘Thank ya toots,’ she curls around you, straddling your lap and looking down on you with an innocent pout on her face. You don’t have to ask what she’s thanking you for, this has become a pretty regular occurrence.

In her moment of calmed silence, you untie one of her braids and begin to brush through her long, blue locks with your fingers. She immediately melts into your hands, leaning forward to lean into your chest, gazing up at you.

‘I feel like ya deserve somethin,’ she says absently, tapping her chin with one nail. Then a mischievous smile crosses her lips. ‘C’mere!’

She eagerly grabs your cheeks, barely giving you a second to register what’s happening before she smushes your faces together. Her lips are chapped, but her kiss is so enthusiastic that you have to take a moment before returning it. Your hand grips her hair in between tight fingers.

The rest of your cuddle sesh is spent with soft, hurried kisses.

➼ first fight with jinx

You don’t often fight with Jinx, you don’t like to yell at her or be upset, and watch her usually gleeful expression drop into that of a kicked puppy. But you were worried about her this time.

She had gone up to piltover against Silco’s wishes again, most likely to stir up trouble, so he decided to send you after her to drag her back to Zaun. When you had gotten there however, you found only the debris of her explosions, the spraypaint she loved, clouds of coloured smoke, and guards everywhere.

And no Jinx.

No sign of her or where she could be, you had no choice but to return to Zaun before you got dragged into the oncoming investigation, empty-handed. You spend the rest of the day worrying over where she might be in her workshop, sitting with your head in your hands on the couch. Is she hurt? Captured? She could be dead for all you know.

So when she shows up again, seemingly ignorant to how long she has been gone or the stress she has caused, you can’t help but raise your voice, crying about how you had expected the worst. You scream back and forth for a bit before she leaves you to burn off her energy.

‘Hey trinket,’ the door to her warehouse screeches open, and she stands in the entrance, looking at you as you sit on the couch, barely even looking at her. ‘Ya still mad at me?’

She sighs when she doesn’t get a response, coming close to wipe at the dried tear-stains on your cheeks, setting down her tools and her guns to favour your face between her hands. Jinx makes sure you can see only her.

‘I’m sorry i vanished, i didnt mean to scare ya, honest.’ she pulls you down to lean into her shoulder, still stroking your cheeks with her fingers. ‘Can ya forgive me, trinket? I’ll make it up to ya, i promise.’

Jinx cuddles with you on the couch for the rest of the day, showering you in kisses at your request. Safe to say, you can’t stay mad at her for very long at all.

|| ! mdni content below ! ||

➼ first time with jinx

Jinx has always loved touching you, whether it’s a hand on your knee, an arm around your shoulder, or a hug from behind. She just loves to be close to you. But when you begin talking about the idea of sex with her she immediately jumps on the idea (and probably jumps on you as soon as you bring it up, you only barely manage to drag her somewhere private)

She’s an enthusiastic lover in all things, of course. Fucking you isn’t going to be any different. But she’s gentle the first time, despite it all, she doesn’t really know what she’s doing, i don’t think Silco really prepared her for intimate relationships.

But still, having sex with Jinx is amusing, its not serious, always cracking little jokes or tickling each other and finding little ways to be comfortable with the process. You can’t really find it in you to be nervous.

She’d start slowly with you though, if you wanted, just to make you comfortable <3

‘God trinket, ya look s’ pretty like this for me,’ she’s already slightly breathless, skirting her hands and dragging her chipped nails over your ribs. She lays you down on the couch in her warehouse, sitting between your thighs, looking up at you with half-lidded eyes.

‘Ya feel alright?’ she checks in occasionally, just to be sure.

But she lets her hands wander at the same time, she can tell you aren’t going to say no just by the look in your eyes, urging her to continue. She lets her hands travel over your stomach and down in between your thighs, but she doesn’t hurry where you need her. No, she prefers to tease you. Just a little bit to get you squirming.

When she does finally reach your core, dipping her fingers in between your folds, does she finally let up and give you what you want.

#arcane #arcane smut #arcane headcanon #arcane fanfic #arcane x reader #arcane imagines #jinx #jinx arcane #jinx x reader #jinx league of legends #powder arcane #vi x reader #fanfic #smut fic #wholesome #headcanon #imagine

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venusindelusion · 22 days ago

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Giving In (to the Love): Too Sweet

3rd chapter

SUMMARY: Being in charge of someone's education was heavier than you thought, but tonight doesn't have to be all about books and notes. PAIRING: Vi (Arcane) x Fem!Reader WK: 4K WARNINGS: bit of angst, mentions of alcohol, cursing A/N: slow slow slow burn Previous chapter

Next chapter

After that encounter in the cafeteria you're left feeling nervous and mad, how could she make fun of you so lightly? Didn't her sister told her you weren't the one giving her booze?

You decide to skip your next lesson and head straight home. Once you're inside the elevator, you look for your phone inside your bag and send a text to Caitlyn asking her what time is she coming over.

The elevator stops at your floor and while you're searching for your keys, you see Caitlyn standing in front of your apartment door, carrying some bags on one hand and the other one typing on her phone.

"I didn't know you were here." you say as you approach her, smiling and looking curiously at her bags.

"I wanted to surprise you but I forgot to bring the spare keys you gave me." she says as you turn the key around and open the door.

Once inside, Caitlyn leaves the bags on the table and takes out the fast food she had bought, preparing everything for both of you to eat lunch together. You get into the bathroom and wash your hands and face, then look into the mirror; you felt like shit, and you could feel your mind spinning a thousand miles a second— guilt was cursing through your veins and you couldn't help but wonder what it was about.

Except you did know.

You grab a towel and dry both your hands and face, feeling like cold water didn't do much to your anxiety so you get out of the bathroom and sit in front of your best friend at the table. Both of you start chatting about your day; she tells you that her boss, Marcus, had been driving her crazy all day long until she finally found those papers he was asking for and then let her off for the day. You told her about all the exams you had to grade and then mentioned that Violet's was in that pile too.

"So you took revenge, huh." she says jokingly and chuckles.

"In my defense, it was a mess anyway and," you feel your stomach tied up in a knot, thinking if it was really okay for you to tell her— no, to do it entirely, "now I have to tutor her, so the universe punished me for it already."

You can't decipher what her expression means while she's looking at you but she keeps chewing on her food and laughes lightly. The awkwardness doesn't leave your body and you start thinking you may be going insane, why did you think so much of it? It was just tutoring.

"If it makes you feel any better, she's smarter than she gives on."

What was supposed to make you feel relieved just had the opposite effect. You didn't know they were that close, Caitlyn never mentioned her before that night and now it felt like she was keeping more from you than she might be telling. She is supposed to be your best friend, why wouldn't she tell you she was seeing someone if they were that close?

Food already eaten, you get off your seat and clean the table, grabbing the remaining leftovers and putting them in the fridge for later. You felt a bit sad, and maybe jealous. There was a part of Caitlyn's life you weren't aware of and, for some reason, now you were afraid to ask.

Working after classes sucked, but what sucked even more was having to look for someone who could cover her at work; it couldn't be just anyone. She wouldn't care if the place belonged to someone else and her life didn't literally depend on it, but "The Last Drop" was hers to take care of now. Well, almost.

"Can't pick you up today, Powder." she says, holding her phone on her ear with one hand and organizing bottles on the shelf with the other. "Come straight home, okay? I don't want you messing around again."

Violet could hear her younger sister complaining on the phone about how controlling she was and what plans she already had that night with her friends. It was always the same argument so she let Powder vent about it while she was rearranging the expensive bottles' shelf, hoping that the old wood would resist the weight and not make her lose thousands of dollars. She needed to replace those shelves.

"Look, Pow-pow," holding her phone between her neck and shoulder, Vi kept on trying to convince her sister, "bring Ekko if you want, I could use his help anyway."

With her little sister convinced, Violet put down the phone on the bar and looked over the place; everything needed to be done and she was already feeling tired, both physically and mentally.

All day she had been going around, signing papers and then attending classes. The only time in the day she could actually relax— or unleash some stress, was in the ring; throwing punches, sweating, analyzing her opponent's movements just to finally bring them down. She felt capable, strong and even good at it.

But this? Going to college, watching over her sister, working and barely sleeping; that was hard. It felt impossible at times.

"You've got a good heart," she remembered her father saying, "don't ever lose it. No matter how the world tries to break you."

Those words were like fuel for her, that memory has kept her going for years and it still worked now. She had to bear, just a bit longer.

Violet grabbed her phone again and sent a text to Caitlyn, letting her know that she'd probably be busy the rest of the week because she needed to study. Hard. She got an instant reply, "We'll meet as soon as you can."

Feeling relieved, Vi sighed and continued cleaning and organizing everything at the bar. She was thankful for meeting Caitlyn, it was not long ago and she was already changing her entire life— is this how hope felt? It's been years since she had something to look forward to.

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, The Last Drop was ready to be opened but still no one could cover for her. Hearing the keys from the backdoor alerted Violet that her sister was finally home, so she went to greet both Powder and her friend.

"I brought some donuts from work." said Powder, leaving the box on the table. "Although they're dry, that's why I got to bring them."

Violet grabbed one and muttered something about the donuts being dry indeed, but she shrugged it off and ate one anyway. She started her way back to the bar, Ekko following behind her and eating his own dry donut.

"Powder told me about your tutoring lessons," he said as he was chewing, "I can cover for you here, you know."

"I didn't ask."

"I'm offering." he replied as soon as he saw his friend's expression, she was clearly uncomfortable and unexperienced when it came to receiving some extra hands. "C'mon, Vi. I know how the business works and I can handle tough costumers."

Violet had to think about it for a bit; it's true that he knew how the bar worked and handling drunken men wouldn't be a problem for him— if anything, God help the idiot who dared to mess with him, but she had never left anyone to run the place without supervision, not even her sister. However, she didn't really have any other option, she couldn't afford to close for even one night. Those debts wouldn't pay themselves.

"Be puntual, no drinking while working and no letting Powder steal any booze, got it?"

"Got it."

She gave him a nod and finished her donut, then went to the back to let Powder know that she was going to be busy the rest of the night. After a short speech about being responsible, helping Ekko and making her swear that if anything came up she would call her immediately, Violet made her way upstairs and into the apartment.

It was strange having some free time on her hands, she was used to running around and work all night until late, but she figured it was a well deserved break; although she was worried about leaving Ekko and Powder in charge of the place.

"She's ready," Violet thought to herself, it was about time to give her sister more credit. She deserved it, after all; Powder was way smarter than most people, only lacking in concentration but that's normal for a teenager, and Vi wouldn't want her little sister feeling like she had to behave like an adult so soon.

Headed towards the bathroom, Violet decided she could use a hot shower and got inside the bathtub, filled it up with water and added her sister's bath salts into it. She had never tried them, but Powder was always telling her about how relaxed she would feel after if she tried them, so she did. And maybe it was because she was completely drained of energy, but it felt like they were working.

She could feel her body relaxing, her shoulders no longer tense and her eyes blinking heavily— these salts were like magic.

Once she finished cleaning and drying her body, she walked into her bedroom and chose some comfortable pants and a big sized T-shirt, then some bandages for her knuckles; today's training had been more intense than usual and she had forgotten to clean her wounds and covering them.

Back into the living room, Violet turned on the TV and laid down on the couch. This was the whole day off experience, now she just had to wait for her new tutor to text her so she could let her in.

Except, she didn't ask nor she gave her number, but there was no time to think about that as her eyes started closing on their own until she fell profoundly asleep.

The sun was already going down and Caitlyn had already left your place, wishing you good luck and telling you to let her know once you were back safe and sound. After taking a shower, you go to your room and decide what to wear; you weren't sure if you were supposed to dress comfortable or as if you were going out— it was a bar, after all. You remember Violet saying she would close the place so you could study at peace and decide to wear some casual but cute clothes, then grab your bag and turn off all the lights. Once you're out of your apartment, you grab your phone and attempt to send her a text, but she never gave you her number, and you didn't gave her yours. You shrug it off and think that she must surely remember you were going over and call the elevator.

You decide you would walk to the bar instead of calling a cab, it was a beautiful night and you were still going to arrive earlier than expected, hoping the walk would calm your nerves even a little. It was the first time you had to tutor someone, you were used to grading exams and doing other academic work but being in charge of someone's education felt heavier than that, specially when you were asked to do it by Viktor; he was more than a professor to you, you looked up to him and you wanted to be as smart and dedicated as he was. It was clear you didn't want to let him down, that's the only reason you accepted in the first place.

The Last Drop was near now and you could see all the lightning coming out from the inside, strong neon colorful lights illuminating even its surroundings outside, the big shiny sign spelling its name and announcing the beggining of your night with your new student. Sighing heavily, you open the door and let the loud music penetrate your ears, you could smell the scent of cigars and sweat, people sitting in different tables chatting and drinking. You were confused now, this seemed far from being closed and you couldn't see Violet anywhere. Walking over to the bar counter, you can see the barman working hard as he was preparing two drinks simultaneously while receiving more orders from group of girls who were clearly going to keep him busy.

"Excuse me—" you say lifting up your finger in an attempt to get his attention, but he doesn't even flinch. "Excuse me!" you yell a bit louder and he turns around to look at you.

"Hey, what are you having?" he asks now looking at you.

"I'm looking for Violet. She works here, right?"

"Oh, you must be her tutor." he says while smiling, you give him a small nod. "That door back there," you follow his finger pointing to an old wooden door, "go upstairs and knock on your left."

Thanking him, you walk over to the door he pointed and read its sign "Personal Only", feeling a bit odd about crossing a forbidden door, you twist the knob and walk upstairs; it was a small place, you could feel the humidity on your skin and the lightbulb over your head twinkling like begging to be retired, the stairs were squeaking under your steps until you were finally facing the left door the barman had mentioned. You knock on it twice and wait, although a few minutes pass by and no one answers, so you knock three times and yell Violet's name. Still no answer. You hear some steps coming from the stairs and turn your head around.

"No answer?" moving her blue haired braids behind her shoulders, she shoves her hand inside her pockets and takes out a key. You greet her as she opens the door and lets you in first, chuckling for no apparent reason to you and leaves her keys on the table. You leave your bag on the same spot, feeling a bit uncomfortable being at someone else's house, someone you don't know that didn't even open the door for you. Maybe she forgot you were coming. "Vi, wake up!" you heard Jinx yelling.

Peaking to where the yelling came from, you see Violet laying on the couch with one leg spreaded and her feet touching the floor. She shuffles while her sister keeps yelling at her and then opens her eyes, looks at Jinx and then at you. Her eyes open wide and she sits straight on the couch, rubbing her eyes and murmurring, "I fell asleep."

"Yeah, no shit." her sister answers while she opens the fridge and takes out a bottle. "I'll be downstairs, bye." she opens the door and leaves both of you alone.

"Sorry, I wasn't planning on sleeping," she says now looking at you.

"Well, we should begin." you sit down at the table and watch her sitting in front of you. She handles you a glass of water and you softly thank her, taking a sip and feeling your throat was more drier than you noticed, your hands were shaking as you grabbed everything you brought from your bag; some books, your own notes and her failed exam.

"Cait said you're good at this," she says, "so please enlighten me." the smirk she gives you makes you both furious and nervous, you couldn't figure if she was really taking this seriously.

You decide to be the bigger person and ignore all her snarky comments so the lesson could begin. To your surprise, she took in everything you told her and she was a quick learner as well; listening carefully to your explanations and even taking her own notes, asking questions about the book and what she lacked in the exam. You tell her she should focus more on certain chapters and the logical part of the subject because, even though Viktor appreciated debates on his classes, his exams put emphasis on the scientific part and not so much on the student's interpretations.

As you continue the lesson, you start to think Caitlyn was right— Violet was way smarter than you thought.

Both of you decide to take a little break from studying and she brings snacks, putting the books and notes aside, she asks, "So how do you know Cait?"

"We've been friends since highschool, " you answer, "she was running some sort of campaign so each class could vote for a delegate or something. She convinced me to sign and we're inseparable since then." Violet laughs at that and makes you smile.

"Sounds like her." Curiosity got the best out of you and you ask her the same question. "Well, we—" someone opens the door, it was the barman. He starts telling Violet he needed her help with a drunk costumer, saying he was getting violent and couldn't calm him down. "Be right back." she says and leaves with him.

You sit there eating chips and waiting for her to be back, but then half an hour passed and you were feeling like a soldier's wife. Worry grows in the back of your head, what if something happened to her? Violet looked strong but that drunk violent customer could be stronger, and she didn't seem like the type of girl to walk out of a fight.

Unable to deal with your own head, you get off your seat and walk to the door. Just when you were about to twist its knob, the door suddenly slides wide open, startling you. It was Violet, standing in front of you, a bit sweaty but generally unharmed; she was so close to you, the air leaving out of her mouth when she apologized for taking so long felt like a fresh breeze against your face and you couldn't stop starring at her little scar on her upper lip. You wonder how she got that one and if she had any other somewhere on her body.

Before you could shake that thought off, you realised she might have noticed your stare because she licked her lip, just where the scar was, and smirked. Blood rushing to your cheeks, you turn your gaze somewhere else and say, "It's okay, I was just worried..."

"Come." she says and starts walking downstairs. You follow her steps into the bar, still feeling embarrassed, and at the end of the stairs you notice the overwhelming silence compared to the loudness of music when you first arrived. The bar was now closed and empty, just the two of you there. She goes behind the counter and grabs a bottle of whisky, pouring it into two glasses while you walk around to take a better look at the place. Warm lighting was on now that the neon lights were off, beautifully illuminating the decorated walls; pictures with different people on it hanged on them, most had a very muscular and tough looking man smiling with someone— you couldn't recognize anyone, but you could tell they were close to each other and that moment was definitely worth immortalizing on a frame. There were also drawings clearly made by a child, full of colours and love and joy, and you see one with two girls in it; a pink haired one with boxing gloves on her hands, fighting some sort of wolf while the blue haired one was cheering on her, a little toy monkey by her side. It made you smile.

"Powder made them." Violet says behind you, scaring you off a bit. She approaches you and hands you a drink, standing beside you now.

"Is it Jinx or Powder?" you ask sipping a bit of your whisky, you can feel it burning your throat and your nose scrunches making Violet chuckle.

"Powder, but everyone calls her Jinx." she answers, "Stupid nickname."

You hummed and watched her going behind the bar counter again, so you decide to sit in one of those fancy tall seats in front of her. You put your glass down and she refills it then her own.

"What happened to the violent costumer?" you ask.

"Kicked his ass and sent him home." she sips her whisky like it's juice, meanwhile you're already feeling dizzy. Strong liquor shouldn't be near you but you couldn't refuse when she refilled your glass again. You had to admit, her presence was strong; she was someone you couldn't ignore if she walked into a room, it's like her confidence drawn you in, clouding your senses and making you want more. It didn't exactly help that she was hot as hell. Still, you couldn't get out of your head the fact that the night you met her, she had been locked up in the bathroom with your best friend.

Both of you keep drinking and chatting, your curiosity growing stronger as you ask her if she runs this place all on her own, feeling pity when she answers, "Yes, been on it since my dad died."

Doubting a little but feeling the booze cancelling your inhibitions, you ask her, "What happened to him?"

"He got sick, " her expression changes, her jaw clenches and she takes another long sip at her glass, you watch the liquor going down her throat and then she speaks again, "it was a few years ago, Powder was still a child."

"And you?" you could feel your stomach tied up in a knot.

"Someone had to take care of things." she says while looking to the wall filled with pictures and drawings, her face seemed calmed like she was already used to this kind of life but you couldn't stop the sadness. "When he was in bed, he used to do these animal-like groans because of the pain, " surprisingly she smiles at that, "Powder used to say he sounded like a wolf."

You couldn't take it anymore and started sobbing, Violet looked at you surprised and then laughed, which made you feel embarrassed.

"Don't laugh, I'm already drunk." you tell her, rubbing your eyes and looking at her with your eyes furrowed.

She walks out from behind the counter and keeps laughing, standing beside you and helping you off your seat, she says, "Can't take strong booze, cupcake?"

That dumb nickname made your face go on fire, it didn't help that she was grabbing your waist to help you keep your balance and you could smell her scent, a mix of whisky and perfume, the warmth of her body next to yours as she was guiding you upstairs again.

"You'd know that, " you tell her, trying so hard to put one feet in front of the other, "you took a pic of it."

Violet opens the door to her place and helps you inside, she walks you to her bedroom and watches you sitting down on her bed. She leaves you there and you take a look at the room, it was tidy and well organized; her night stand had a frame of Powder, herself and their father. She comes back with a cup of coffee and hands it to you, looking at you expectantly. You take a sip of the coffee and make a face of disgust.

"I don't drink coffee."

"Yeah, I can tell." you answer her, still drinking that disgusting liquid she dares to call coffee. You can feel her gaze burning on you, the concern in her eyes even if she was making fun of you, it made your heart soften.

"Stay here tonight, I'll sleep on the couch." she says and puts her hand on your shoulder.

You inhale heavily, trying to ignore the sensation of her touch, even something as small as a reassuring hand is clouding your senses now. It wasn't just the booze anymore.

"Can't you sleep in your sister's room?" you ask her, trying to put your mind somewhere else.

"That's a rat nest," she chuckles and crunches her nose, "sleeping outside is safer." You hand her the empty cup and lay down, covering your legs with the sheets, her scent was impregnated in the pillow. Violet was still looking at you, her face inexpressive.

"I never gave your sister booze, " you say and she looks at you confused, "the other night, at the party, it wasn't me."

"I know," she closes her eyes and sighs, "that's just Powder testing my patience."

"An apology would be good," you say jokingly and she chuckles.

"You know what?" she smirks and raises one eyebrow, "If your tutoring is that good and I pass my exams, I'll take it down." You laugh and tell her that you shouldn't be punished for her stupidity, so she pretends to be offended and punches you softly. She watches you blinking heavily and stands up, turning the lights off and stopping at the door frame, "Good night, cupcake."

Humming in response, you close your eyes and let sleep take over you, ignoring the vibrations coming from your phone.

TAGS: @pokiiks

#vi league of legends #vi arcane #arcane vi #arcane #arcane fic #arcane series #fanfic #slow burn #arcane powder #arcane jinx #caitlyn kiramman #viktor arcane #caitlyn arcane #vi x reader #reader insert #vi x fem!reader #venuswrites

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bellbery · 6 days ago

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— [P1] The Heart That Remained (Vander x f!Reader)

Summary: A monster, once a beloved protector, now haunts the tunnels of Zaun. The creature is revealed to be Vander, twisted by pain and rage, leaving his daughters Vi and Jinx to grapple with the truth. As a battle unfolds, past memories and present dangers clash, forcing a choice between saving Vander’s humanity or ending his torment. Love, guilt, and hope intertwine in this intense, emotional confrontation.

Word Count: 5.2k (im a jerk for angst)

Content/Warning: Angst to Fluff, less mention y/n until the ending, a bit bloody?, AND VERY ANGSTY

🖋️ Author’s Note: AS I PROMISED I WOULD MAKE A ANGSTY FIC ABOUT VANDER, and i promise you its worth the while i did my best to put into detail of the character’s personality and the places. It took me 3 days and i’m very happy how it turned out! Before yall read this maybe someone you haven’t watched S2, there will be spoilers obv— and i recommend yall listen to Dead Island Trailer Theme song while reading this cause personally it juST MATCHED THE SCENE IT- i hope yall enjoy my writing this is my 2nd fic! Please comment your feedback and simply support me by like and reblogs! Thank you very much yall!<3

After the chaos of the Piltover Council meeting, guilt gnawed at you like a relentless, suffocating force. Deep down, you knew Jinx—Vander’s daughter—was the cause of the devastation that had torn through the heart of the city. You couldn’t escape the weight of the promises you’d made long ago: to protect Vi and Powder when they were still just children. Those vows now felt like shattered glass, each piece embedded in your soul. You had failed them. And now, hidden behind the mask of an investigator, you carried your shame like a cloak. It was the only armor that allowed you to survive, to push down the searing ache that never seemed to go away. Months passed, and you thought you had found your rhythm in the cold, distant monotony of your work. Then Ambessa hired you. The aftermath of the beast’s rampage in the prison—the blood, the carnage—shattered that fragile peace. It was the most grotesque thing you’d ever seen. The nightmare still burned in your memory, its horrors etched into your mind like permanent scars. The beast, its monstrous presence a cruel reminder of the violence lurking in every shadow, had torn through the fragile walls of your life, dredging up the dangerous ties to the past you couldn’t outrun.

“How could this beast come out of nowhere?” You whispered, the question hanging in the air like a death sentence. Ambessa’s gaze locked onto you, icy and unyielding. The weight of her authority pressed down on you, suffocating. She leaned forward, her voice low, controlled—laced with quiet menace. “You’re asking the wrong question,” she said, her words like a blade. “It doesn’t matter how it got here. What matters is that it’s here now. And we don’t have the luxury of waiting for answers. We deal with it. We don’t waste time wondering why or how—it’s already cost us too much.” She paused, her eyes narrowing, a flicker of impatience cutting through her otherwise steady demeanor. “If you want to stay in this game, you’ll find out who—or what—created this monster. And you’ll do it fast. Before it costs us more.” You nod, the weight of Ambessa’s words settling heavily in your chest. Without a second thought, you move past the cells, your gaze flicking over them with practiced detachment. You push down the swirling thoughts threatening to overwhelm you, focusing on the task at hand. But as you walk, something pulls your attention—a cell, its door locked with an unnerving sense of finality. Something about it doesn’t sit right, a tension building in your gut.

Before you can step closer to investigate, the soft, rhythmic chime of the elevator cuts through the silence. The doors slide open, and out steps Commander Caitlyn Kiramman, her posture rigid, her face set in the same steely expression you’ve come to recognize. She doesn’t glance at you immediately, but when she does, her eyes flicker with a mixture of curiosity and caution. “Commander,” you murmur, your voice steady but carrying the weight of the unspoken. You can’t help but wonder if she’s here to speak of the very thing that’s been gnawing at your thoughts—the beast, the violence, the past that refuses to stay buried. “How is your investigation?” Caitlyn’s voice was steady, her usual sternness masking the exhaustion you knew she carried. Her sharp blue eyes flicked over you, searching for any hint of progress. You hesitated, your gaze drifting back to the closed cell. “It’s… ongoing,” you replied, the words clipped, as your unease bubbled beneath the surface. She followed your line of sight, noticing your fixation. Without waiting for an invitation, Caitlyn strode past you, her footsteps purposeful, echoing in the silence as she approached the cell. “What is it about this one?” she asked, her tone even, though her curiosity was evident. You didn’t answer immediately, the heaviness in your chest growing. “It’s locked,” you said finally, the words feeling too small for the weight of your unease. “But it’s too quiet. Too… deliberate.” Caitlyn reached out, resting her hand lightly on the cold metal bars. “Let’s open it,” she said decisively, her command leaving no room for argument. The tension in her voice betrayed her own unease, though her face remained calm and unreadable.

As the cell door creaked open, the air grew heavy with an acrid, chemical tang. There, sitting upright in the dim light, was a figure that made your breath hitch—Dr. Reveck. His sunken, hollow eyes locked onto yours, recognition flashing briefly across his face. Then came the cold, calculating glare of someone who had already weighed and dismissed your worth. “You’re persistent,” he murmured, his voice low and rasping, as though it hadn’t been used in days. “But persistence doesn’t make you immune to mistakes.” His lips twitched, a ghost of a smile that never reached his eyes. “What are you here for? To make another mistake?” Before you could respond, Caitlyn’s sharp footsteps echoed through the corridor, her tone cutting the tension. “Dr. Reveck,” she began, her words laced with authority, “you’re going to answer for what you’ve done. Whatever experiments you’ve been running—whatever monsters you’ve unleashed—it ends now.” Reveck’s expression didn’t waver, though his gaze shifted to Caitlyn with a disconcerting calm. “Answers,” he said, almost mockingly. “The only people who demand them are those too weak to seek the truth themselves.” The sudden clang of metal doors opening at the end of the hall signaled Ambessa’s arrival. Her towering figure filled the space, the weight of her presence silencing any retort Caitlyn might have had. Her eyes swept the scene before resting on Reveck. “This is the man responsible?” she asked, her voice an authoritative rumble. Reveck tilted his head slightly, observing Ambessa with a detached curiosity. “And you are?” he asked, his tone clinical, as though dissecting her existence. Ambessa took a step closer, her imposing frame making the cramped cell feel even smaller. “I’m the one deciding whether you’re worth keeping alive,” she said, her voice unwavering. “And right now, you’re not making a good case.”

The tension in the room was palpable, your pulse pounding in your ears as you stood frozen, caught between these forces of will. Caitlyn glanced at you, her expression tight, as if silently willing you to act or speak. Dr. Reveck finally turned back to you, his gaze sharper now, as though seeing past your mask of authority to the pain you’d been carrying. “Tell me,” he said softly, almost conversationally, “are you here to find answers, or are you just running from your own failures?” Before you could answer Dr. Reveck’s cutting remark, the sharp clink of handcuffs broke the silence. Caitlyn had stepped forward, her features stern as she clasped the restraints over Reveck’s thin wrists. “You’ll answer for your crimes,” she said coldly. “But your cooperation might still buy you a sliver of mercy.” Reveck barely flinched, his pale eyes darting between Caitlyn and Ambessa as if calculating the odds of survival. He let out a low, humorless chuckle. “Mercy,” he echoed, his voice dripping with disdain. “A curious word coming from Piltover’s enforcers. Tell me, Commander Kiramman—how does mercy reconcile with the blood already on your hands?” Caitlyn’s jaw tightened, but before she could reply, Ambessa’s voice rumbled from behind her. “Enough.” Her tone brooked no argument as she stepped into the cell, her towering figure filling the cramped space. “Your investigation isn’t finished here,” she said, her eyes locking onto yours with a commanding weight. “You’ve uncovered the man, but not the monster.”

Reveck’s lips curled faintly, a reaction as subtle as it was unsettling. “The beast,” he murmured, as though savoring the word. “You think you’re hunting it, but it’s already closer than you realize. Closer than any of you would dare admit.” Ambessa ignored him, her gaze still fixed on you. “Find it,” she said firmly. “Before this trail goes cold and more lives are lost.”

Reveck’s smile widened slightly, his voice taking on a cryptic edge. “And when you find it,” he said, his tone almost taunting, “you might not like what you uncover.” The weight of his words hung heavy in the air as you exchanged a brief, tense glance with Caitlyn. Without another word, Ambessa turned and walked toward the cell door, her presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room. Caitlyn followed, her hand lingering on her holstered weapon as if still on edge. You stayed behind for a moment longer, your gaze locked with Reveck’s, searching for something in his unflinching expression—a hint of truth, or maybe just an answer you weren’t ready to face.

You stepped out of the cell, the cold air biting against your skin. The echo of Ambessa’s commanding words and Reveck’s cryptic warnings swirled in your head, mixing with Caitlyn’s sharp presence. Every step away from the cell felt heavier, the pressure of what you’d just witnessed settling into the pit of your stomach. Reveck’s words wouldn’t leave you. “You think you’re hunting it, but it’s already closer than you realize.” They repeated in your mind like a haunting refrain, twisting your thoughts into knots. What did he mean? And why did it feel like there was more truth in his taunts than anyone cared to admit? The sterile prison corridor seemed darker now, its shadows crawling up the walls like something alive. A prickle of unease traced up your spine. For a moment, you paused, glancing back at the dim outline of the cell. It felt as though something—or someone—was watching. The air was too quiet, heavy with an unsaid warning. You shook your head and looked down, trying to steady your breaths, but your heart stopped cold. There, lying on the cold, stone floor just ahead of you, was a strand of blue hair. It glimmered faintly in the pale light, its color unmistakable. Powder. Your knees threatened to buckle, but you forced yourself to stay upright. A rush of memories flooded back—her laughter, her wide, curious eyes, the promises you made to her and Vi. And then the explosion, the chaos, and everything that came after. Your breathing quickened as you knelt down and gingerly picked up the strand, its texture soft but alien, almost too delicate for something so steeped in blood and tragedy. How did it get here? And why now?

The corridor seemed to stretch endlessly before you, the walls pressing in tighter. Your pulse thundered in your ears as a hundred questions screamed in your mind, all vying for answers. But one thought rose above them all, clear and sharp as a knife:

She was here.

And if she was here, then what had you missed? What was waiting just beyond the next shadow? You clutched the strand tighter, a knot of fear and determination tightening in your chest. You couldn’t let this go. Not now. Not after everything. With trembling hands and racing thoughts, you turned and walked toward the exit, but every step away from that cell felt like stepping deeper into the unknown.

You pulled your coat tighter around you, the cool night air biting at your skin. Your feet moved again, this time carrying you toward Zaun. If there was even the faintest chance she was there, you had to follow it. Whether you were ready or not, the path ahead was clear. You had to find her. And this time, you couldn’t fail. You had been at it for hours—no, days—piecing together fragments of evidence that felt more like whispers in the dark. Each lead took you deeper into Zaun’s underbelly: a blood trail smeared across cracked pavement, scorch marks that didn’t belong, and the eerie testimonies of those too afraid to say much at all. The closer you got, the more everything started pointing to one place. You’d seen the tunnel marked on old maps of Zaun—a forgotten artery deep within the district, barely mentioned anymore except in hushed tones. Something had happened there, something people were afraid to talk about. Standing at its mouth now, you could feel the weight of the place pressing on you like a physical force. The green chemfog swirled thickly, the heavy air carrying a stench of rust, decay, and something faintly metallic. It was quiet, unnervingly so, the usual hum of Zaun’s machinery conspicuously absent. You stepped forward cautiously, every instinct screaming at you to turn back. But the faintest trace of blood along the ground caught your attention, leading you further in. Whatever had been here—or was still here—wasn’t human. And yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t just a hunt for a monster. This was something personal, a shadow from your past reaching out to drag you back. As you stood at the edge of the tunnel, Dr. Reveck’s voice echoed in your mind, his words heavy with warning.

“You think you’re hunting it, but it’s already closer than you realize.”

The memory of his cold, detached tone sent a shiver down your spine. You tried to brush it off, focus on the task at hand. But it wasn’t easy. There was something about the way he’d looked at you, almost pitying, that gnawed at your resolve.

“You might not like what you uncover.”

The blood trail led further into the shadows, growing thicker, fresher. Each step you took seemed to confirm the truth of his cryptic warning. This wasn’t just a trail—it was a trap, a path carved by something that knew you’d follow. Despite yourself, fear clawed at the edges of your mind. You gripped your weapon tightly, the sound of your own breathing loud in the suffocating silence. If Dr. Reveck was right, if it was closer than you realized, then maybe—just maybe—it wasn’t the beast you were hunting anymore. Your heart pounded in your chest as you ventured deeper into the tunnel, every nerve on edge. The oppressive darkness seemed alive, pressing down on you as if the walls themselves wanted to swallow you whole. Then, breaking through the suffocating silence, you heard it—a voice. A familiar cry echoed through the hollow passage, carrying a name you hadn’t heard in years.

“Powder.”

Your breath hitched, and without thinking, your feet carried you toward the sound. The cry was raw, desperate, and unmistakable. It clawed at the memories you’d buried deep—days spent in the smog-filled streets of Zaun, promises whispered in the dead of night. You turned a corner, and there they were. The sight stopped you cold. Vi was locked in a brutal struggle, her movements sharp and relentless as she fought the towering monstrosity before her. Jinx—no, Powder—was nearby, her chaotic energy radiating even in the chaos, her laughter twisted with something between joy and pain. The beast, its hulking form both animal and something far worse, loomed over them. You stood frozen for a moment, unable to reconcile the scene before you. The two sisters you had sworn to protect were here, together again, fighting a nightmare brought to life. This wasn’t just a fight—it was their fight. But as the beast’s roar shook the walls of the tunnel, you knew you couldn’t just stand there. Not this time. You swung your electro-baton again, sending a crack of electricity through the beast’s thick hide. It staggered back, growling low, but you were ready to strike again. Then, a voice you hadn’t heard in what felt like ages cut through the chaos, sharp and frantic.

“Y/N?”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you turned, breath catching. There, standing in front of you with wide, shocked eyes, was Jinx. But it wasn’t just her surprise that caught your attention—it was the frantic energy radiating from her as her gaze flickered between you and the monster. Before you could even process the situation, Vi’s voice rang out, filled with desperation. “Get out of the way!” she yelled, her eyes locking onto the beast just as it made a move in your direction. The words barely registered before you heard the guttural growl of the creature, its monstrous form lunging toward you, faster than you could react. Your instincts kicked in just in time as you dove to the side, pushing Jinx out of the way and out of the path of the beast. In the chaos of the moment, you felt a sharp pang in your chest—Jinx’s face, twisted with a mixture of fear and resolve, flashed in your mind for just a second. She wasn’t ready to lose him again. But the situation was slipping further from control, and you couldn’t afford to wait any longer. Before you could strike, a hand shot out, gripping your arm with surprising strength. You whirled around, heart pounding, only to find Powder standing there. Her eyes were wide, frantic, pleading. “Stop!” she cried, her voice desperate, barely above a whisper. But it was enough to freeze you in place, your pulse hammering in your ears. The world seemed to slow as Powder’s frantic cry echoed in your mind.

“It’s Vander.”

For a moment, you couldn’t breathe. The name hung in the air, shattering everything you thought you knew. Your heart pounded against your ribs, memories of Vander flooding your mind—his hands, strong yet tender, holding you close during the darkest times. His laugh, the warmth he exuded when the world around you seemed so cold. He had been your everything. You had loved him with every fiber of your being. But this thing, this beast, it was not the man you had known. This creature, with its bloodshot eyes and twisted form, was not Vander. It couldn’t be. Your hands shook as you tightened your grip on the electro-baton, but it felt wrong—so wrong. The memories of him, so vivid and painful, clashed with the grotesque beast standing before you. You felt sick to your stomach, a wave of guilt crashing over you. You had failed him. Failed to save him. And now, you couldn’t even bring yourself to end the nightmare he had become. Your breath hitched as Powder stepped forward, desperation in her voice. “Please, Y/N, stop. I know it’s him. I can feel him in there. I won’t let you hurt him again.” Her words were a plea, a fragile hope in the storm. But your heart twisted with doubt. You could still hear the screams, the way the beast had ravaged everything in its path. And yet… something in Powder’s eyes, something in her raw desperation, made you falter.

The beast—Vander—lurched forward, its eyes locking onto you with an intensity that nearly paralyzed you. Every memory you had ever shared with him felt like it was being ripped from your chest.“Vander,” you whispered, the word slipping from your lips before you could stop it. The weight of it crushed you. You had spent so many years believing that Vander was lost, that the man you loved was gone. But here he was, in some twisted form, and it was as if everything you had been through had led you to this moment. Powder’s voice trembled as she pleaded once more. “Please, Y/N. Trust me. It’s him. Don’t hurt him. He’s still in there.” The battle inside you was unbearable. Every part of you screamed to fight, to destroy the beast before it could hurt anyone else. But Powder’s face—the vulnerability, the fear—held you in place. Your heart ached for her, for the girl who had once been Powder, the girl who had believed so deeply in the man who had been Vander. And for a long moment, you did nothing. Your body, your mind, were paralyzed by the weight of it all.

You wanted to believe her, wanted to believe that Vander was still there somewhere beneath that monstrous exterior. You swallowed hard, the tears threatening to break free. Slowly, shakily, you lowered the electro-baton, letting it fall to your side. It felt like an eternity, the weight of the decision heavier than any battle you had ever fought. The beast—Vander—let out a low growl, and for a split second, it seemed to hesitate, its glowing eyes softening. And then, before you could process what was happening, it lunged. In a split-second, you shoved Vi out of the way, your body reacting faster than your mind could follow. You felt the beast’s claws rake across your shoulder, pain searing through your skin. The world blurred for a moment, your vision flickering as you stumbled backward, feeling weaker by the second. And then, amidst the chaos, the word tore from your chest.

“Vander…”

The sound of his name was a raw, guttural cry, one that echoed through the tunnels, through your soul. The pain hit you harder than any wound could. Vander, that name, those memories—they tore you apart. You had vowed to protect Vi and Powder, to keep them safe from the horrors of the world, yet here you stood, helpless. The love you had for him, for both of them, never faded. But now? Now you wondered if you'd failed them all. Could you ever undo the damage, or was it too late to save any of them? This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t be this. But here he was, and you couldn’t turn away. Not now. Not after everything.

As the beast—the twisted, monstrous form of Vander—pins you to the ground, his massive claw digs into your shoulder, a searing pain that nearly overwhelms you. Your body is trembling, pinned beneath his weight, but you find the strength to cry out. “Vander!” The word escapes your lips like a prayer, a cry full of pain, longing, and grief. For a fleeting moment, the ferocity in his bloodshot eyes falters. There’s a flicker of something, a split-second recognition that makes your heart ache with hope, even as your breath hitches in terror. The claws dig deeper, and for a second, you wonder if it’s all over. The beast’s heavy breaths rattle through your chest, but you can’t stop. This has to be the moment. This has to reach him. With what strength you have left, you lift your free hand and place it gently on his massive claw, the very one that could end your life. You speak the words that have haunted your thoughts, words full of both love and desperate sorrow, knowing they might be the last you ever speak to him.

“It’s me... your sunshine.”

The words hang in the air, fragile and raw, and for a heartbeat, time seems to stop. The beast’s gaze flickers—just for a moment—as if the sound of your voice stirs something deep within him. There’s a trembling hesitation in his claw, as if he’s hearing something buried beneath the rage and the pain, something that reminds him of who he was. In the chaos of your heart, you realize your words are more than a plea. They’re a lifeline thrown into a sea of darkness, hoping that some part of Vander will catch it. For a heartbeat, you feel the world shift, the crushing weight of the beast’s form loosening as something human flickers in the depths of his eyes. His growls soften, his body stills, as if struggling against the flood of memories. Then, as if through a fog, his voice—gravelly, strained, broken—rumbles from the depths of his throat, just a whisper but heavy with a history that neither of you could erase.

“Y/N…?”

The name feels like a weight lifted off your chest, like the first breath after drowning. His voice is there, faint, but real. Vander is still in there. You can feel it—the man you loved, the one who had promised to always protect you, the one who had once held you close during the darkest nights, is right here in front of you. Tears blur your vision, and your body trembles, caught between the raw pain, the disbelief, and a flood of emotions you never thought you’d face again. With a trembling breath, you whisper, “It’s me, Vander… it’s your Y/N…” In that moment, his once ferocious red eyes flicker. A slow shift begins, and your heart seizes in your chest as you see something break through the fog—a glimmer of blue and green cutting through the fire. For a single, fleeting second, you see Vander there, in his eyes. The man you loved. The protector who had once carried you through the worst storms. It’s real. He’s still in there. The grip around you tightens, not with violence, but with a deep, consuming desperation. His body trembles with something far greater than rage—something more human. His chest releases a low, guttural breath, the growl that once shook the air now softened, trembling with the weight of all that he has become, all he’s lost.

He’s no longer the man you remember, not entirely. But he’s not the beast either. No longer fully consumed by it. It’s somewhere in between, and in that space, you cling to him like you’ve never clung to anything before. You feel his hands, so monstrous and terrifying in their size, holding you close— holding you. He pulls you in with a desperation that makes your chest ache, his form trembling as if he’s afraid you might slip away again, as if this might all vanish in an instant. The sheer weight of him, the warmth of his touch, releases everything you’ve buried deep inside—the fear, the questions, the pain, the grief. Every memory of him, of what you lost, surfaces and consumes you. Your sobs come, raw and uncontrollable. The sound fills the air between you, as you let go of everything you’ve carried alone all this time. And in the grip of this agony, in the midst of your sobbing breaths, you feel Vander—the man who once loved you—is still fighting to hold onto you, still fighting to be the protector he once was. His arms, still massive, still deadly, are now filled with tenderness. He doesn’t need to speak, not yet. His embrace says everything. He’s still here, he’s still fighting, and he hasn’t forgotten you. In that moment, you realize that the beast, the rage, the monstrous form—none of it can take away who he was, who he still is to you. Tears blur your vision even more, but you no longer try to stop them. You let them fall freely, because in the midst of the devastation, the pain, and the years you spent wondering if this day would ever come, you know— he’s here. Not just in body, but in soul. And you’ll hold on to him, no matter what form he takes. You’ll fight for him, just as he fought for you.

As Vander’s gaze shifts toward Powder and Vi, his monstrous form trembles slightly, and the flicker of recognition in his eyes softens further. Despite the beast he has become, there's a tenderness in the way he moves, his massive arm opening wide, offering a place for them to find solace in his embrace. The look in their eyes is a mix of agony and hope, the weight of everything they've endured written across their faces. It’s clear they’re torn between fear of what he’s become and the desire to believe that the father they once knew is still inside.

Without a word, you reach out, your voice quiet but full of emotion.

“Go to him. He’s still your father. He’s still here with us.”

The words are simple, but they carry the weight of years of grief, the ache of a lost family and the hope of its fragile restoration. Powder’s eyes fill with tears, and Vi, standing beside her, slowly steps forward. The two of them move together, drawn toward Vander’s open arms, like a long-buried longing finally being met. They collapse into his embrace, and the world around you seems to pause. Vander, in his monstrous form, holds them close, his massive arms gentle yet desperate, as though he’s afraid they might disappear if he holds them too loosely. The pain, the fear, all of it melts away in this moment, replaced by something simple—love. He’s still their father, still the protector who had raised them. Even now, with all the darkness and the destruction surrounding them, Vander is here, alive, and for this moment, whole.

And you stand back, watching them hold each other. The tears in your own eyes sting as you witness the reunion, knowing that, despite everything, the heart of the man you loved is still present. He is their father— your Vander—and for that, you are thankful.

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