tired-truffle

[tired-truffle]

Even the Gods Cry For Us

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 6.9k

Part 17/17

Tag list: @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @potatointhedirt @dedicated2viktor (if anyone else would like to be tagged with future updates let me know!)

“You have me. Until every last star in the galaxy dies. You have me.” - Amie Kaufman

Masterlist

Burning and shredding, you felt yourself being torn apart and remade, your mind split and shattered only to be pieced back together again.

You were everywhere and everywhen at once. Threads, intersecting and glimmering spread out before you, like a hundred violins smashed together, strings overlapping as they cried a haunting tune. Your hand reached out, brushing against the gossamer strands, and visions unlike any other flooded your mind.

You stood atop the ruins of Piltover, your hand intertwined with Viktor's. His mask was gone, revealing a face covered in glowing Hextech augmentations. You wore a crown of twisted metal and crackling energy, your eyes ablaze with power. The city below was a spectacle of gleaming chrome and pulsing light, every citizen augmented and connected to a vast network. You had remade the world in Viktor’s image, free from the tyranny of emotion and human frailty. But as you looked upon your perfect creation, a hollowness echoed within your chest where your heart used to be.

Another thread pulled you in, and you were beset by rage and grief. Piltover burned around you, great plumes of smoke rising into the blood-red sky. Your magic, fueled by anguish, tore through the city like a hurricane. Buildings crumbled, bridges collapsed, and the screams of the dying filled the air. You kneeled at the epicentre of the destruction, tears streaming down your ash-covered face as you cradled Viktor's broken body. Sobs heaved from your chest, strings of spit strung between your teeth as you cried, open-mouthed and feral. He had died trying to stop you, and in your madness, you had struck him down. As the last remnants of the city fell, you realized too late the cost of your vengeance.

Tossed again like a doll held by a rambunctious little girl, you were thrown into a jarringly different scene. Piltover was saved, but at a terrible price. You stood before a cheering crowd, hailed as part of the city's saviours. Jayce stood beside you, his face grim but grateful. But Viktor was gone. You had stopped his plan, prevented the destruction he would have wrought, but in doing so, you had lost him forever. As the crowd's adulation washed over you, you felt nothing but a numbing emptiness, a black hole in your chest that sucked in everything that made you, you.

You pulled back, gasping, overwhelmed by the intensity of the visions. But they kept coming, each one more vivid than the last.

In one, you and Viktor worked together, using your combined powers to heal the rift between Piltover and Zaun. You saw yourself mediating disputes, your empathy tempering Viktor's logic, your magic able to give him his emotions back and keep him level. The two cities flourished, technology and humanity in perfect balance. But the constant struggle wore on you both, and you saw the light in Viktor's eyes dim with each passing year, slowly becoming more machine than human, going too far for even your magic to reach.

Another showed you alone, wandering the world as an immortal being of pure magic. You had absorbed so much power that your human form had burned away entirely. Centuries passed in the blink of an eye as you drifted, searching for meaning, for connection, for anything to fill the Viktor-shaped void in your heart.

Thread after thread, timeline after timeline unfolded before you - for that was what they were, all possible futures. In some, you ruled. In others, you destroyed. In a few, you saved the world. But in none of them did you truly have Viktor - the man you loved, whole and happy and by your side.

Ethereal and serene as freshly fallen snow, Soraka's voice echoed through the swirling chaos of timelines, gentle yet insistent. "You must choose a path," she urged.

You hadn’t expected to hear her again, and though you couldn’t see her through the haze of the shimmering strands, you found an odd comfort that she was there with you, at the end. She had made this all possible in the first place, hadn’t she? It seemed only fitting.

But you had suffered enough and you refused to accept a future without Viktor, without the love and happiness you both deserved. With grim determination, you reached out, not to grasp a single thread, but to gather them all in your hands. The timelines thrummed with power, vibrating against your skin like living things.

"I will make my own path," you declared, your voice resonating with newfound purpose and the lost dreams of those who should have lived to see them come to fruition. "I'll carve it from the bedrock and brimstone if I have to."

The how was yet to make itself clear, but you could feel the immense power that ran through the threads, magic calling to magic, begging to be used.

Soraka appeared by your side, but she was no longer the same as when you last saw her. Her once violet skin and warrior's attire had been replaced with an otherworldly form, one that radiated with divine power - one that befitted a goddess.

Her skin, pale as the morning sky, glowed with soft moonlight from within. Robes of the finest silks in shades of gold, azure, and white adorned her slender frame, her large sleeves giving her a royal air. A horn crafted from emerald stone sat atop her forehead, framed by an ornate crown and the soft tresses of pure white hair. Her gown cascaded down to cover her legs, the skirt shimmering as though it was made of gently flowing water.

Her eyes, filled with infinite compassion, met yours. "You walk a dangerous path, little one," she said softly. "But I cannot deny the strength of your love."

A single tear rolled down her cheek, glowing with celestial light. As it fell, she caught it, holding it out to you. "You will need this," she said, her voice tinged with both sorrow and hope. "A fragment of divine essence, freely given. May it provide the last piece that you require."

You took the tear, feeling its warmth pulse against your palm. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice thick and trembling.

Soraka smiled. "Good luck," she said simply, before fading away, leaving you alone with your monumental task.

You clutched the threads and the tear, feeling their power buzzing against your skin like a heartbeat. With a deep breath, you closed your eyes and let yourself fall into the cosmic tapestry.

The threads wrapped around you, a story of infinite possibilities. Soraka's tear dissolved, seeping into your soul. Power surged through you, raw and primal. It was like swallowing a star, your body incandescent with energy.

You were the eye of a hurricane, the calm center as madness swirled around you. Memories and futures crashed together like tectonic plates, grinding and reshaping reality. Your mind expanded, consciousness stretching across time and space.

You were the stars, the inky vast expanse of nothingness that cradled them in its hands. You were the sun, the moon, the wishes that children made when light streaked across the sky. Your hair blended with the cosmos, your eyes alight with their eternal shine. Hope and love and dreams made real. 

This was what you were meant to be; a bringer of comfort, a being of protection. 

Colours you'd never seen before painted your vision. Sounds beyond human comprehension filled your ears. You tasted stardust and felt the birth of galaxies in your bones.

Souls burned like small golden balls of flame all around you. Everywhere you looked you saw them, drifting, floating, winking out as others took their space. Your teeth rattled with their rage, their terror, your lips tingling with their joy and love and laughter. Curiosity plucked at your ribs, grief squeezed at your heart. It was chaos and confusion, a little boy lost in a bustling city, crying for his father, a young woman navigating her new school campus, afraid of being away from home for the first time in her life. It was the warmth of putting one’s feet up by the fire after a long day out in the snow, a cat curling up in their owner's lap, digging their nails into soft flesh as they purred their satisfaction - even as it hurt. 

It was everything, and by the gods it was beautiful. 

Like floating down a trickling stream, you turned, seeking, searching, reaching out with the love that tangled like vines around your heart, grown into the steady beat until it became one. 

And the flow of your love was met with its reflection, the love that was given so freely to you - once lost, but found again. You would have sobbed your relief, made rivers form from mountains as you eroded the weathered rock with your salty tears, but contentment took its place. 

Swooping towards the pull of your mirrored heart like a bird fluttering in a gentle breeze, you came upon the ethereal golden glow of the two souls that belonged to those you held dear. 

“—must go, Jayce, and take Milá with you.” The unmistakable accent of Viktor’s voice floated through the stars, through your fingers and up to your ears. 

“We finish this together, and you know she would never abandon you either.” Jayce, firm in his conviction, his soul pulsing with the strength of his belief. 

You chuckled, the sound reverberating through the emptiness as the souls turned their attention to you. As swift as the wind at the front of a storm head, you closed the remaining distance, and blinked, the souls glowing softly in one moment, and in the next, floated the two men on the precipice of ending this war. 

Jayce, with his flowing locks and scruffy beard, watched you with awe in his dark eyes.

And Viktor, your lovely, sweet Viktor, looking just as you remembered before the changes - his hair shining a startling white, but beneath you knew the waves of chestnut remained - reached towards you, hand outstretched and curious. But you were much too large, your form stretched across the night sky, and his palm took up no more space than a freckle upon your cheek. Still, you leaned into his touch, into the soft curves of his fingers, his calluses.

“Milácku,” he whispered with reverence, eyes wide and lips parted.

“He’s right,” you said, your voice falling over them like a rain. “I’m not going anywhere. You do your work, and I’ll do mine. Deal?” 

“A team, like always,” Jayce agreed, holding his hand out for Viktor, arcane stone in his palm. 

There was nothing left for you to say, and as Viktor reached for his partner, you stretched and grew until they sat in the palm of your hands, glowing souls that collided in a blinding array of sparks. 

You wove your magic around them, a shimmering cocoon of starlight and dreams made real. As they burned brighter, you felt their souls pulsing with power, their essences intertwining. Your cosmic fingers gently cradled them, keeping them safe as the energy built to a new height.

You watched, breathless, as streams of magic curled around Viktor and Jayce, binding them together in a dance of light and shadow. Their forms blurred, becoming indistinct as they merged with the arcane energy.

Colours exploded outward, each hue carrying a memory, an emotion. You saw flashes of their shared past - late nights in the lab, heated arguments that turned to laughter, quiet moments of understanding. Love, frustration, hope, and determination. It was all there, and it was stunning.

The light grew blinding, forcing you to squint even with your cosmic eyes. You felt the surge building and your heart raced, a staccato rhythm that echoed through the vastness of space.

With a soundless roar, Viktor and Jayce's combined energy erupted. The force of it threatened to tear reality apart, to scatter their souls. But you were ready.

You tightened your web of magic, wrapping it around them like a net. The threads of your power, woven from galaxies and divine tears, held firm. You poured every ounce of your love, your hope, your unwavering belief in them into that protective barrier.

When the explosion finally subsided, you were left holding two softly glowing orbs - Viktor and Jayce's souls, preserved and protected, shining with the same light blue hue as your magic.

Tears of relief and joy streamed down your cheeks, each droplet a newborn star. You had done it. They were safe, plucked from the edge of extinction and held in your palms like the most precious of pearls. 

You breathed deeply, your inhale rippling across reality like a stone cast into still waters. You needed somewhere to go, somewhere where you could all finally get the rest you were owed.

"Go forth my child,” Soraka had whispered to you as you’d fallen through the void for the first time. “Like a blazing comet streaking through the darkened sky. Your mission is clear: to mend their broken bodies and souls, to rescue them from certain death. You hold the key to their salvation, the only hope for a future free from destruction."

You had thought you’d failed, had allowed death and destruction to reign, but perhaps you’d been looking at it wrong. Death would happen no matter what you did, it was the cycle of life. But after life…nothing but oblivion. That was, until you.

With a gentle exhale, you willed a new reality into existence, fuelled by your magic. The cosmos shimmered and parted like a curtain, revealing a realm of breathtaking beauty. Rolling hills of soft, luminescent grass stretched as far as the eye could see, each blade swaying in a breeze that carried the whispers of a thousand lifetimes. The sky above was an ever-changing background of colours, auroras dancing in mesmerizing patterns.

Crystal-clear streams meandered through the landscape, their waters gleaming with memories of joy and laughter. Trees with silver bark and leaves of spun starlight dotted the hills, their branches reaching towards the heavens - though, you supposed, this was as close to heaven as one could get. Beneath their canopies, shimmering flowers bloomed, each petal a fragment of a cherished moment.

You felt a stirring in your chest. The three souls you had gathered - the warmth of a friend, the love of a father, and the curiosity of a child - began to float towards this new paradise. They drifted from your heart like dandelion seeds on the wind, each carrying a piece of your essence with them. They would be the first to enjoy the afterlife you had created, but they would not be the last.

Opening your hands, you freed both Jayce and Viktor from your pull, letting them fall like leaves in autumn towards the haven that awaited them. It would all be over soon, you could rest, be free from pain and suffering at long last, and—

Viktor’s soul remained unmoving, his brilliant light dim and pulsing, the taste of rain on a gloomy day hitting the back of your tongue. You returned your hands to holding him, but where he’d once felt like determination and fear, he now felt like the screaming anguish of someone who’d lost everything at their own hands. And with all your power, the magic that flowed over and through you like a dying star given rebirth, you couldn’t cure his self-blame. But you were still you, even made of starlight and the memories of millions, and perhaps, that was what Viktor needed most; not the goddess, but simply you, his miláčku. 

You inhaled, deep and expansive, your lungs filling with the nothingness around you, and when you exhaled, you released pieces of yourself into the galaxy, shrinking down until you’d returned to your human height. Were you still human? 

Existential questions could wait, what was most important was Viktor, his soul, tinged in your protective blue glue, floating before you. With a wave of your hand, you returned his form back to him, channeling your magic. He could communicate - you think - in his soul-form, but whether he knew how, or could express as much was not clear. 

He was exactly how you remembered him on the day of the council explosion; his hair swept back and curled around his ears, devoid of any metal, thin, but entirely himself. The only difference being the press of guilt sitting heavy on his shoulders, curling them in, and the dullness of his once brilliant eyes. 

Without thinking, you reached for him, hand outstretched, needing to feel him, to know he was real. But you came to an abrupt stop when he flinched, not meeting your gaze, head hung. 

Silence stretched between you, the distance becoming a gaping canyon. You wanted to hold him, to offer him comforting words, but not before he was ready. 

And maybe your own anger over your own loss had you hesitating to try. 

“They’re gone, aren’t they?” His eyes flicked up to meet yours, your form of starlight and the darkness of space shimmering at the edges. 

You didn’t need to confirm it, he already knew, had felt their souls disintegrate when he took over their bodies. 

He sucked his teeth, shaking his head. “They came to me for healing, they were vulnerable and desperate and I-I used them,” he spat. “I burned their souls out of their bodies and they are lost forever because of me.”

“Viktor—“ you started, but he was quick to cut you off. 

“I do not deserve what you have made,” he turned towards the space you’d carved out of nothing, where you’d laid the foundations for something better than non-existence. “It…radiates goodness and purity, I cannot go there.”

It was simple to keep your face carefully blank when it wasn’t a face at all, and merely a collection of constellations. “Sulking out here won’t bring them back.”

His head turned to you with a sharp twist of his neck, incredulous disbelief in the curve of his brows. “How do you not despise me? Charlotte, you loved her, and I destroyed her.”

Your chest bloomed with a swirl of blue and violet stars, your grief laid bare. “Yes, you did,” your voice wavered, “I…am angry and hurt but it’s not directly solely at you - there were many factors that led to Charlotte’s death and the destruction of her soul. I blame myself too, I blame Piltover and their lack of care for the citizens of Zaun, I blame Jayce for killing that last piece of your humanity you had left, and yes, I blame you, though it is unfair to say there were no other circumstances that led to this ending. Your mind was corrupted, and I do have some experience with what that’s like. With time, I will heal, but you will have to exist with that guilt forever. There is nothing you can do, no one left to pardon you.” 

It was harsh, but honest, and you did not have the energy to shield the truth from him, nor did you believe it would help. Still, the agonized grimace that twisted his lips, the tears gathering in his eyes, had your limbs tingling with the need to hold him tight, to soothe your hand down his hair and tell him everything would be okay.

“I don’t want that.” He pulled back his upper lip in a sneer, his teeth clenched. 

“Too bad,” you shot back. “You don’t get to shy away from the things you’ve done, to drift off into nothingness because it would be easier than facing it. I have never known you to be such a coward.” He flinched again and you stopped yourself, your hands clenched into fists. Taking out your anger and grief on him while he was already in such a vulnerable state would not benefit anyone.

You inhaled deeply and exhaled the stars. “Viktor, I…do you remember what I said to you on top of the Hexgate?”

His eyes swam with sorrow, deep pools of molten gold. “Every word,” he whispered like a promise. 

Your heart ached to see him like this, a shell of his former self. “We all played a part in this; if I hadn’t used the Hexcore to heal you, none of this would have happened. If we had died when we were supposed to, maybe we could have saved a lot of people from suffering. But there are too many ifs and buts and frankly, I don’t care enough to catalogue them all, nor would it change anything. I meant what I said, that I don’t regret a second of our time together, even through it all. I can’t bring myself to wish I could change it.”

Viktor’s eyes darted between yours as though he was searching for your sanity and could find no traces. “You absorbed thirty Gemstones, surely you have lost your mind and you do not truly mean that.”

You giggled, unable to hold yourself back. “It was closer to forty, but I think I’ve always been a little crazy when it comes to you.”

Seeing that he wasn’t going to persuade you to leave him to rot with those tactics, he changed his approach. “Milá, you made an afterlife, such a feat…it boggles the mind. You are…” he sighed, heavy and tired, affection swirling with the sorrow in his eyes. “You are a goddess, radiant and powerful and the most magnificent being in all of creation. And I…what good have I done?”

The answer was simple, it came to your tongue like breath to your lungs. “You loved me, for starters, and without you I never would have made it this far.” 

He opened his mouth to argue, but you held up a hand. “Wait, I’m not finished.” And when he reluctantly crossed his arms over his chest, you continued, “You were a kind and loving friend, you taught others the value of science and how to apply it which I’m sure will lead to all sorts of wonderful advances. You made me laugh when no one else could, and even though you hurt them in the end, you healed so many, provided them relief for the first times in many of their lives. But your value isn’t only what you can provide to others. You fought for yourself, for your right to live. You pursued goals others could only dream of, and you did what you had to survive. You couldn’t have known how it would end, neither of us did, not fully.”

He twisted his lips, his shoulders tightening, unable to meet your gaze. “I essentially killed you—“

“And I essentially killed you,” you countered, watching as his mouth opened and shut in rapid succession as he failed to come up with a rebuttal. 

“If you had never met me, you would still be alive,” he managed at last. 

You smiled then, sad and gentle. “Not without you, not in any ways that matter.”

His eyes widened, jaw slack in disbelief. Silence settled between you once more, but this time, you felt peace. The anger was still there, your grief simmering beneath the surface. Charlotte had been…like a mother, in the short time you’d known her. Losing her so completely had torn your heart in two. But you would have time to sort through that pain, right now, Viktor needed to get to a place where he could begin mending. You’d both been through enough, you deserved a happy ending. 

“I-I used a whole commune, I tore out their souls.”

“You did,” you floated forwards, stopping when he pulled back. “And that does not change how much I love you.”

Panic, fleeting and sharp crossed his angular face. “I aligned with a military, invasive force that killed hundreds.”

“And I love you,” you countered, moving closer again, only a few feet between you.

“I was going to subjugate the entire world, to remove their ability to choose in the pursuit of perfection!” His voice had raised an octave, but he no longer pulled away when you continued to float closer. 

“And I love you.” A few inches now, and you stopped, hand raised to cup his cheek in your stardust palm.

“But I…” his breath came in sharp pants, tears shining in his red-rimmed eyes. “I hurt you.”

“Sometimes we hurt the ones we love, but love isn’t about never making mistakes, it’s about how we handle them when they happen. Even the big ones.” Charlotte’s words of wisdom floated from you with ease. You tilted your head, running your fingers through his hair and watching with rapt attention as he shivered. “Viktor, I have loved you through life and death and rebirth. I will love you for eternity. So please, let yourself be loved.”

Like the breaking of a dam, Viktor crumbled. He fell into your arms, his body colliding with yours, two celestial bodies drawn together by gravity. You enveloped him, your cosmic form moulding around his. He curled into you, face buried against your chest as he wept. You held him tight, one hand cradling the back of his head while the other traced soothing patterns along his spine.

As you comforted him, comets streaked from your eyes instead of tears. They blazed brilliant trails across the inky void, each one carrying a fragment of your shared grief. The comets sailed past distant nebulae and newborn stars, their fiery tails painting the darkness with your sorrow.

Viktor's fingers dug into your shoulders, clinging to you as if you were the only solid thing in a universe gone mad. His tears soaked into your starlight skin, creating ripples of iridescent colour that spread outward like rings in a pond. You felt every shuddering breath, every choked sob as if they were your own.

Time lost all meaning as you floated there, two souls intertwined amidst the nothingness of space. Galaxies spun lazily around you, their spiralling arms seeming to cradle you like those of a loving parent.

Ever so slowly, his sobs began to subside. His grip on you loosened, though he made no move to pull away. You felt the tension gradually leave his body as exhaustion took hold. His breathing evened out, punctuated only by the occasional hiccup or sniffle.

You continued to hold him, one hand stroking his hair while murmuring soft words of love. The comets falling from your eyes grew fewer and farther between, until at last they ceased altogether. A sense of peace settled over you both, as delicate as spun sugar but no less real for its fragility.

“I want to take you home,” you whispered into the shell of his ear - though home had always been anywhere with him.

Viktor slowly pulled back, his amber eyes rimmed with red but no longer overflowing with tears. He gazed at you, wonder and hesitation warring on his face. You cupped his cheek, your celestial flesh warm against his skin.

"I would like that," he whispered, barely audible even in the vast silence of space.

Relief flooded through you, setting off a cascade of shooting stars across your form. You took his hand, intertwining your fingers, and gently tugged him towards the paradise you'd created. As you descended, the universe seemed to contract around you. Stars rushed past in streaks of light, galaxies blurred into swirls of colour.

Your feet touched down on soft grass that glowed with a gentle inner light. The blades bent beneath your weight, releasing a sweet scent that reminded you of summer evenings and childhood laughter. Viktor stumbled slightly as he landed, unused to having a physical form again. You steadied him, your hand on his shoulder.

For a moment, you both stood still, taking in the breathtaking beauty of your creation. The ever-changing sky painted everything in soft, ethereal hues. A warm breeze caressed your skin, carrying whispers of joy and contentment.

You closed your eyes, focusing inward. Your cosmic form buzzed with energy, too vast and powerful to be contained in a human shape. Slowly, you began to compress that power, folding it inward like origami. Stars collapsed into neutron-dense points within your chest. Galaxies spiraled down into the marrow of your bones. The vast emptiness between celestial bodies became the spaces between your atoms.

It was an odd sensation, like trying to pour an ocean into a teacup. Your skin tingled and stretched as it struggled to contain your new nature. You felt simultaneously infinite and impossibly small. Memories of countless lives flickered through your mind - births and deaths, triumphs and failures, love and loss - before settling into the background hum of your subconscious.

When you opened your eyes again, you found yourself standing on solid ground, in a form that was both familiar and strange. Your hair floated around you as if suspended in water, each strand containing a glimmering nebula. Your skin shimmered, constellations mapping themselves across your body in ever-shifting patterns. When you breathed, stardust escaped your lips in glittering clouds. And as always - your constant companions - the blue balls of light that belonged to your sparks floated lazily around you.

You turned to Viktor, but before you could take in his wide-eyed expression, a blur of motion caught your eye. Without warning, someone launched themselves at you with a delighted squeal, wrapping you in a tight hug, arms around your neck. The sudden impact sent you staggering back a step, your body rippling with surprise.

For a moment, confusion reigned. Your mind, still adjusting to its new vastness, struggled to process this unexpected development. But familiar sensations washed over you - the tickle of dark curls against your cheek, the scent of sunlight and tender friendship that could only belong to one person.

"Sky," you breathed, your voice cracking around the syllable of her name.

As if your recognition had unlocked something within you, your legs gave out, and you sank to the luminescent grass. She went down with you, refusing to let go even for a moment.

Sobs pulled from your chest in painful tears, your body shaking and weak. Sky held you through it all, her small frame surprisingly strong. Her hands rubbed soothing circles on your back, leaving trails of warmth that felt like home.

"I've got you," she murmured, her voice thick with her own tears. "I've got you, and I'm never letting go again."

How had you not recognized her soul when it had sat so snuggly in your chest?

You clung to her, your fingers digging into the fabric of her sundress as if she might disappear if you loosened your grip even slightly. Flowers sprouted and bloomed around you in a rapid cycle, their petals opening and closing like a visual representation of your racing heartbeat.

You cried for everything you'd lost, for the agony you'd endured, for the impossible choices you'd been forced to make. But you also cried with relief and joy at this unexpected reunion, at the miracle of having your dearest friend back in your arms.

Gradually, your sobs subsided, replaced by hiccupping breaths and the occasional sniffle. You pulled back slightly, just enough to look at Sky's face. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, but her smile was as bright and warm as ever. Her eyes, filled with love and understanding, met yours without flinching from your new, otherworldly appearance.

“The whole time,” you whispered, your bottom lip quivering. “You were with me the whole time.”

“You kept me safe. Even when I didn’t know that I was, well, me, you held my soul until I could come back to myself.” She laughed, breathy and tear-strained. “You are amazing, Milá. I can’t wait to hear about everything I missed.”

You laughed through your tears, the sound tinkling like broken glass. "I've missed you so much."

A gentle cough drew your attention. Viktor stood awkwardly nearby, shifting his weight from foot to foot. His eyes darted between you and Sky, a mix of emotions playing across his face - relief, guilt, uncertainty. Gone was the glowing blue aura of your magic. He was simply Viktor, no Hexcore metal, no sickness lingering in his lungs, cane held lightly over his forearm.

Sky noticed him too. Her grip on you loosened slightly as she turned to face him. For a moment, tension crackled in the air like static electricity.

Then Sky smiled, warm and welcoming. "Hello, Viktor. It's good to see you again."

Viktor's eyes widened in surprise. He opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again. "I…I'm sorry, Sky. For everything."

Sky's expression softened. "I know. And I don’t blame you."

Those simple words seemed to lift a great weight from Viktor's shoulders. He sagged visibly, exhaling a shaky breath.

Pushing yourself up to stand, you took Viktor’s hand in yours. His skin was plush and warm beneath your touch, and his fingers intertwined with yours as he gave you a small smile.

As you drank in the sight of him whole and unburdened, movement over his shoulder caught your eye. In the distance, beneath the boughs of a tree with silver bark and twinkling leaves, stood a figure you had only ever seen in your dreams. Vander, his face creased in a gentle smile, knelt beside a little girl, dyed blue hair lovingly tied back in twin braids. Isha, you realized with a start, her round features lit by the soft glow emanating from the grass beneath her feet.

Vander placed a comforting hand on Isha's shoulder, and you watched as she smiled shyly up at him. The sight tugged at your heart, a bittersweet ache of recognition flooding through you. These were the other two souls you'd carried with you, nestled safely within you until you could bring them to this place of peace.

Your moment of reflection was interrupted by a familiar voice calling out. "Hey! Wait for me!"

You looked up to see Jayce jogging towards you, his gait slightly uneven but determined. He was cleaned up, his beard neatly trimmed and his hair combed back. The only evidence of his past ordeals was the leg brace he still wore.

Jayce slowed as he approached, a sheepish grin on his face. "Sorry I'm late. Got a bit turned around in this place." His eyes widened as he took in your new look. "Wow, Mila. You look…different."

You couldn't help but laugh, genuine and relieved to see him in one piece - and back to himself. "It's been quite a journey."

Jayce nodded, his lips pursing. "I can imagine." He turned to Viktor, extending his hand. "Partner. It's good to see you back to yourself again without the imminent threat of arcane destruction."

Viktor hesitated for a moment before clasping Jayce's hand. "And you, Jayce. We have much to discuss after…all that.”

“We do,” Jayce agreed, “but I’d like a minute just to, uh, process it, if that’s alright with you.”

Viktor inclined his head. “Of course.”

"So," Sky said, antsy as the tension pulled taut between the two men. She turned to you. "What's it like being a goddess?"

You chuckled, grateful for the distraction to take the pressure off of Jayce and Viktor. They had plenty of time to work through their issues, jumping in right away would only lead to further strife. You’d all had more than your fair share of that. "Overwhelming. Beautiful. Terrifying." You paused, considering. "I'm not sure I'd call myself a goddess, exactly. More like…a cosmic caretaker?"

Viktor's hand tightened in yours. "You created an afterlife," he pointed out, awe colouring his tone. "If that's not goddess-like, I do not know what is."

You leaned into him, savouring his warmth. How close you’d come to losing him…you didn’t want to think about it. "I couldn't have done it without you. Any of you. Your love, your friendship, it gave me the strength to reshape reality. Thank you."

Sky beamed at you, her eyes sparkling. "Well, I for one think you've done a wonderful job. This place is beautiful."

As if in response to her words, the sky above you erupted in bright aurora-like waves of light that danced across the heavens.

"It's incredible," Viktor breathed. He turned to you, a hint of his old curiosity gleaming in his eyes. "How does it work?”

"I'm not entirely sure yet," you admitted. "It's all still so new. But I think…" You paused, reaching out with your newfound senses.

The realm pulsed around you, alive in ways you were only beginning to understand. You could feel the ebb and flow of energy, the intricate webs of connection between all things. It was gorgeous and frightening, like holding a living star in your hands.

"I think it's responsive," you said slowly, "to emotions, needs, and desires. It's not just a static place, but something that can grow and change."

As if to demonstrate your point, a cluster of flowers suddenly bloomed at Viktor’s feet. Their petals were translucent, catching the light in rainbow hues.

"Fascinating," Viktor muttered to himself, releasing your hand to kneel and examine the flowers more closely. "The potential significance is staggering. An infinitely adaptable environment, capable of providing for any need."

Even in the face of the miraculous, Viktor's scientific mind never stopped working.

"Well," Jayce said, clapping his hands together, "as amazing as all this is, I don't know about the rest of you, but I could use a drink and a very long nap."

Sky laughed, her dress swishing in the breeze. "I second that motion."

You looked around at the faces of those you loved most - Sky's bright smile, Jayce's easy grin, Viktor's intense gaze softened by wonder. For the first time in what felt like eons, you felt truly at peace.

"I think I can arrange that," you said with a wink, and with a wave of your hand, a cozy-looking cottage shimmered into existence nearby. It was nothing fancy - just a simple structure with a thatched roof and climbing roses around the door. But it radiated warmth and safety.

"Shall we?" you asked, gesturing towards the cottage.

As your little group made their way towards the house, Viktor began to trail behind. You matched his pace, watching as Jayce and Sky chatted animatedly ahead.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked softly. "About me?"

You linked your arm in his, resting your head on his shoulder. "More sure than I've ever been about anything," you replied. "We've been through hell and back, Viktor. We deserve some happiness together without the threat of death looming over us. You know, since we’re already dead."

He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. As you walked, you noticed the grass beneath his feet sprouting tiny blue flowers - forget-me-nots. Had that been your doing or his? Either way, you couldn’t imagine forgetting even a second of your time with him.

Sky and Jayce entered the cottage, their laughter drifting back to you on the gentle breeze. As they disappeared inside, you pulled Viktor to a stop, your fingers curling around his wrist.

"Viktor, I…" The words caught in your throat, a supernova of emotion ready to burst from your chest. You bit your lip. How could mere language possibly encompass the depth of what you felt?

To hell with words, you thought. I'll show him instead.

You pulled Viktor close, your hands cupping his face as you pressed your lips to his in a searing kiss. The contact sent shockwaves through you, ripples of energy cascading across your skin like the surface of a disturbed pond. Viktor stiffened for a moment, surprised, before melting into your kiss.

The grass beneath your feet erupted in a riot of wildflowers, their petals unfurling in rapid time-lapse. The sky above blazed with shooting stars and you tasted stardust on Viktor's lips, felt the heat of a thousand suns in the press of his body against yours.

When you finally broke apart, breathless, you found that your feet were no longer touching the ground. You and Viktor floated several inches above the flower-strewn grass, held by your magic as it glowed around you.

A smile tugged at his lips, boyish and carefree in a way you hadn’t seen in years.

"I love you," you whispered. "We made it, Viktor. We're here, together. Our friends are safe, and when the rest are ready, they will have a place here too."

In response, Viktor pulled you close again, resting his forehead against yours. You closed your eyes, basking in his affection, in the simple miracle of his presence. The universe may have been vast and unknowable, but in that moment, your entire world was contained in the circle of Viktor's arms.

Lowering yourself, you made your way towards the cottage once more. Viktor entered first, but you paused at the doorway, looking back at the vast expanse of your creation. It felt surreal to be there, like a dream come true. In time, you’d figure out how to usher other souls to this place, to make it a true beacon of rest and safety. And maybe, just maybe, you could find the shards of Charlotte’s soul and piece her back together. Anything was possible when you had the power of infinite universes at your fingertips.

You stepped into the cottage, leaving the door open for Vander and Isha if they decided to make their way over, and were greeted by the smiling faces of your friends as they settled into the new space. Jayce, Sky, Viktor, and soon-to-be countless others are at your side. You knew in the depths of your never-ending soul, that this was where you were meant to be.

(Click on the picture for full resolution)

A/N: I can't believe its over!! It's crazy to think that its been three years since I posted the first part, and the entire time in between I was thinking and brainstorming about how I wanted it to end, only for Arcane to give us such a beautiful ending I couldn't bring myself to change much of it. But now they get to all be happy together in the afterlife for eternity, no more fighting or pain, just getting to be together in all the ways that matter ❤️

Thank you x1000000 for coming on this journey with me, its been a blast!! I'd love to hear what you think, even if you're reading this months or years later, I'm always looking for more inspiration to write more!

I may at some point post a very short epilogue so let me know if you still have any questions and I will try to provide answers. (Jinx isn't here because I think she's still alive)

Love you all!!!!

Spotify playlist

[tired-truffle]

Even the Gods Cry For Us

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 4.6k

Part 16/17

Tag list: @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @potatointhedirt @dedicated2viktor (if anyone else would like to be tagged with future updates let me know!)

"Whether you come as a lover or an executioner, I am ready to receive you." - Agustin Gómez-Arcos

Curses by the Cranewives is a great song to listen to for this chapter <3

Masterlist

Clink, clink, clink, the Gemstones rattled together in your backpack as you ran. Eyes darting side to side, Caitlyn and the rest of her crew running with you. 

You’d made a plan, a desperate attempt to avert disaster. Find Viktor, restore his emotions, help him realize the pain he was inflicting. You didn’t know what came after, but it didn’t matter when Viktor was still out of your reach. 

Jayce had given you orders; stay with Caitlyn, let her lead you to Viktor’s arrival point, and then absorb the Gemstones, hitting them with everything you had. And you had a lot - after all your anguish and grief, the loss of almost everyone you’d ever cared about, your magic was itching to unleash itself. Viktor would be sending his robots - the bodies of those he’d once healed weaponized. The less you thought about it the better.

An explosion in the clock tower, retribution for Caitlyn’s attempts at shooting Ambessa - the Noxian leader - swiftly blocked by your shield, crackling with blue energy. With a nod of thanks, Caitlyn pulled out her telescope, spying on the carnage below. 

She turned to you, face set in grim determination. “He’s here.” There was no need to specify, and with an incline of her head, you, Caitlyn, and the three enforcers assigned to her group - Maddie, Charles and Laz - were off. 

This was your role, to stop Viktor, even as your heart beat arrhythmically in your throat, your stomach tight and churning, your magic crackling over your skin like lightning in a desert storm. 

Bodies scattered the ground, spears protruding from blood-splattered corpses. Dust filled the air, large chunks of stone smashed on the ground providing coverage. You crouched between Charles and Maddie, Caitlyn taking point, peering out from behind the stone. She nodded at her men across the street as they gathered, ready to fight - to give you the opening you needed. 

The image of Laz, arrow in his neck, body strewn on the ground flashed before your eyes. You blinked and it was gone, but as Charles pulled the safety pin on a smoke bomb, handing it to Laz, your magic surged instinctively. 

You stood, but not of your own accord, palms splayed before you, creating a shimmering barrier of crackling, spitting magic in front of Laz as he surged to his feet, arm wrenched back to throw the smoke bomb. An arrow hit the barrier and harmlessly fell to the ground, followed swiftly by two more, and another. Though shocked by the suddenness of your action, Laz nodded gratefully, and threw the bomb over the barrier, Maddie and Charles following suit. 

Green gas spluttered and billowed, filling the air with noxious fumes. Yet, before it blocked your vision, you saw it, Viktor’s cocoon.

Your eyes locked onto the metallic sphere, its surface a mesmerizing swirl of dull silver and muted violet, intricate patterns etched into its shell like a cosmic spiderweb.

The orb was tethered to a monstrous creature that lumbered forward with thunderous steps. The abomination was a hulking mass of misshapen muscle and oversized limbs. Its skin, a sickly pale grey, stretched taut over bulging organs and deep scars, vibrant purple lines pulsing as it groaned. The red of Noxus draped over its massive form in tattered banners and makeshift armour.

Before you realized what you were doing, your magic had reached out, desperate to feel Viktor’s presence, to reassure yourself that he was alive, just as Jayce had promised. 

But the shell was empty, a gaping hole where traces of Viktor’s energy remained. 

This was a trap, a ploy to pull out the frontline guard and distract from where Viktor had truly gone. 

You cursed under your breath, and surged forward, grasping Caitlyn by the wrist as she moved to advance. 

“Wait,” you hissed as she whirled around, vibrant blue eyes set wide. “He’s not there, it’s a—“

A hand on your shoulder yanked you back and you stumbled, only barely managing not to fall flat on your backside. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Maddie snarled, her teeth clenched. “You can’t just grab your superior officer like that.” 

“Maddie, it’s alright,” Caitlyn began, hands raised to placate, but you didn’t hear the rest of her attempt at de-escalation. Maddie’s emotions rushed through her connection to you like a roaring wind. You weren’t sure if you’d reached out first, a hint of suspicion at the girl’s actions, or if the loudness of her zeal for Noxus control and order had called to you first. 

Travelling through her intricate web of feelings was nothing compared to Vander’s, and you burrowed deeper, ignoring her sharp gasp and the tensing of those around you as you searched. Buried beneath her unwavering commitment, lay the tiniest morsel of guilt. She’d be hurting Caitlyn with her betrayal, and while it paled in comparison to her devotion, it remained a crack in her otherwise solid mask. 

You held that seed of guilt in your metaphysical hands, feeling its potential. With a gentle touch, you began to nurture it, coaxing it to grow and flourish. Filaments of remorse spread through Maddie's psyche as you carefully cultivated her buried emotions.

Maddie's eyes widened, her grip on your shoulder loosening as confusion washed over her face. Guilt blossomed, her betrayal flooding to the surface.

Tears welled up in Maddie's eyes, spilling down her cheeks in glistening rivulets. Her shoulders began to shake as sobs wracked her body. She stepped back, her knees buckling beneath her.

"I'm sorry," Maddie choked out. "I'm so sorry."

She collapsed to her knees before Caitlyn, her head bowed in shame. Snot dripped from her nose as she wept uncontrollably, her carefully maintained composure shattered.

"Caitlyn, please," Maddie pleaded, her voice raw and stuttering between gasping breaths. "I betrayed y-you. I've been feeding information to Noxus, I-I am supposed to bring you t-to Ambessa. Viktor’s not in there, the mage is right."

Caitlyn glanced at you, her upper lip pulled back in disgust at the base display, but her eyes swam with confusion.

“I only pulled to the surface what was already there,” you explained with a serenity that you did not feel, your face carefully blank. “Do with that what you will, but he’s not here. I am going to find him.” 

Caitlyn hesitated, her eyes darting between you and the sobbing girl as she grasped at Caitlyn’s boots, pleading for her forgiveness. The battle raged around you - the clash of steel, the thunderous booms of explosions, the anguished cries of the wounded.

Finally, Caitlyn's shoulders sagged, and she wiped a hand down her tired face. "Thank you," she said, her voice barely audible over the din. "Go. Find him.”

You didn't need to be told twice. With a surge of magic, you propelled yourself away. The wind whipped through your hair as you ran through the streets of Piltover, your magic reaching out, scanning desperately for any sign of Viktor.

You spotted a quiet alcove nestled between two towering structures and turned, slowing down as you slipped inside. The sounds of battle were muffled there, providing a momentary respite. You closed your eyes, trying to focus, to reach out with your magic and sense Viktor's presence.

But your power, wild and untamed, refused to cooperate. It pulled your thoughts in a thousand directions at once - flashes of memories long buried, glimpses of the battle, echoes of past regrets.

Gritting your teeth, you called a spark forth, letting it slip out of your backpack and into your awaiting hands. With a deep breath, you began to channel some of your excess power into the spark, feeling the pressure in your mind gradually ease.

The spark glowed brighter and brighter, pulsing with barely contained energy. As the last of the excess magic flowed into it, you slumped against the wall, exhausted and breathing raggedly. An irony taste coated your tongue, and you coughed, spattering the ground with flecks of blood.

"Shit," you grumbled, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. But you couldn't afford to rest, not when Viktor was still out there, not when the fate of Piltover - and your own heart - hung in the balance.

You clenched your fists tight, nails digging crescent moon shapes into your palms. You could do this, you had to do this.

Closing your eyes, you forced yourself to take slow, deep breaths. The sounds of battle faded to a distant rumble as you focused inward, reaching out with your magic to sense the web of souls surrounding you.

At first, it was overwhelming - a racket of emotions and energies swirling around you. Fear, anger, determination, desperation, grief - they tore at your skin like fishing hooks cast over and over again. But you pushed through, your own desperation to find Viktor giving you strength.

Gradually, it began to take shape. You saw the souls of Piltover's citizens as glowing points of light, some dim and flickering with terror, others burning bright with resolve.

Noxian soldiers appeared as harsh, angular shapes, their souls hardened by years of conquest and conflict. You felt Ambessa's presence like a dark star, her iron will drawing her forces to her like gravity.

You pushed your awareness further, searching for that familiar spark, that brilliant mind that had captivated you from the moment you'd met. But Viktor's unique energy was nowhere to be found.

Panic clawed at your chest as you stretched your senses to their limit, desperately scanning every corner of Piltover. The effort left you dizzy and nauseous, your head pounding as if it might split open at any moment.

Faint enough that you hadn’t noticed it at first, a light tug at your awareness, a flicker of a feeling pulled your gaze up to the top of the Hexgate looming above. An urge, gentle yet insistent, pushed at your back. 

There, you needed to be there.

You bolted from the alcove, your feet pounding the cobblestones as you raced toward the Hexgate. The towering structure loomed ahead, its golden orb gleaming even through the smoke and dust. Your lungs burned, muscles screaming in protest, but you pushed on, driven by that inexplicable pull.

As you neared the base of the Hexgate, you gathered your magic, feeling it crackle and spark along your skin. With a burst of energy, you launched yourself upward, your hands grasping at the intricate metalwork. You climbed with frantic speed, magic propelling you higher and higher, over flat surfaces and smooth stone.

The wind tore at your clothes, threatening to pull you from your precarious perch. But you held on, gritting your teeth as you ascended. Sweat poured down your face, stinging your eyes and making your grip dangerously close to slipping. But you couldn't stop, not when you were so close.

With a final, desperate lunge, you hauled yourself onto the top of the Hexgate. You lay there for a moment, gasping for breath, your chest heaving as you tried to recover. But there was no time to rest.

As you staggered to your feet, the air around you began to crackle with energy. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, and you felt a familiar tingle in your bones – the unmistakable sensation of arcane power building to critical mass.

You spun around, searching for the source, and that's when you saw them. Dozens, perhaps hundreds, of robotic bodies standing in formation across the top of the Hexgate. They were beautiful in their own way, sleek forms of white and gold metal gleaming in the fading light as they blocked your sight. But there was something eerie about their stillness, their vacant eyes staring sightlessly at the sky.

They looked too similar to the rusted and dented creatures you’d seen in your hallucinations to be anything else.

The arcane energy swirled in bright purples and pinks, and you shielded your eyes against the grit as it coalesced into a whirlwind that spun around the golden surface. You braced yourself, magic instinctively forming a shield around your body.

The whirlwind reached a fever pitch, and with a deafening crack, it exploded outward. A shockwave of pure arcane energy blasted across the top of the Hexgate and down into the city below.

You held your ground, your shield flickering but holding as the energy washed over you. The force of it nearly drove you to your knees, but you stood firm, your eyes squeezed shut against the blinding light. 

The silence that followed had you blinking the spots from your vision, carefully scanning the scene. As your gaze swept across the surface, through a gap in the robots’ seamless lines, a familiar form caught your attention. Jayce knelt in the center of the Hexgate roof, near a jagged hole that looked as though a large mass had burst through it. His broad shoulders slumped in defeat, his massive Hextech hammer positioned before him, its head resting on the ground, his hands gripping the handle as if it were the only thing anchoring him to reality. Sweat glistened on his brow, his chest heaving with laboured breaths.

Your eyes locked with his for a brief second. You could see the toll this fight had taken on him - the anguish twisting his features, the flicker of despair in his once-determined gaze. This was a man pushed to his limits, grappling with the harsh truth of what his old friend had become.

Before you could take a step towards him, a flicker of movement above tore your attention away. You tilted your head back, eyes drawn inexplicably upward.

A figure floated in the air, twin strips of its cape fluttering in the breeze. Though his body had changed, his face obscured, you knew who it was like you knew your own bones. 

“Viktor!” Your voice boomed across the expanse of robots, propelled by the force of your magic writhing in your chest, your lungs, your heart. “Enough!” 

The lithe figure turned, hip bones jutting out, and all that fight you built within yourself bled from your pours. Tall and gangly, he moved with purpose and grace. Thin, too thin, limbs too long. No longer human, but machine and the arcane mixed into one eldritch being. The mask that covered his face - that beautiful face you could have spent the rest of your life contentedly watching - lay in slumber, serene and at peace. You’d seen it before. Glimpses in your magic-infused terror, the metal plate down the centre that hid the contours of his sleeping face, his eyes now perched high on his forehead, glowing, golden beads of apathy. He floated down, nonchalant and uncaring, landing behind Jayce. 

Your magic surged, knocking the robots down around you like bowling pins. With a whimper you placed your hand on your chest, pushing down until your ribs creaked, shoving the magic back into its place. 

“Milá,” the indifference with which Viktor said your name made you flinch, “what have you done?” His voice had become robotic, steady and tinny in quality, like he was speaking through a modulator. But you could still hear him in there, beneath all that armour, his lilting accent unmistakable. 

“What have I done?” you balked, magic sparking between your fingers, a vibrant azure light shining from your backpack. The robots twitched and jerked as they righted themselves, movements inhuman. “Have you seen yourself? Look around, Viktor, look what you did to these people—“ 

Like a lingering dust in an abandoned room, you felt it, the robot closest to you tilted its head. Charlotte, her joy, her tender love, echoed in the sleek form. She was gone, only traces of her essence left, puzzle pieces scattered beneath a weathered couch. Her soul had been torn from its host and scattered amongst the stars. Gone and unable to rest. But she had been here, it had been her body, and now it was warped and used against her will. 

Your chin quivered as you reached for her, the robot remained still as you trailed your fingers down the side of its face. “Do you even remember who they were?” 

Silence greeted you, and then, “Their sacrifice will not be in vain.” 

“You say sacrifice like it was a choice,” you spat, dropping your hand from Charlotte’s husk and rounding on him, pushing your way through the metal figures. They didn’t try to stop you, their expressionless faces turning to watch you as you passed. 

“Choice is false,” he said, the words ringing in your ears as though you’d heard them before in another life, another universe. “It is influenced by untamed emotion, it is the cause of all division and destruction plaguing our world. The only recourse to be truly free is to remove it - the final stage in our glorious evolution.” He held up a hand and the robots moved before you could register it, grabbing your wrists and pinning you in place. You were only a few feet from where Viktor stood and Jayce knelt, watching you warily. “Your torment could have been prevented had I not succumbed to this madness. Once I have unified our minds, I will at last liberate you from the source of your suffering. You will understand, as I have, that this is what’s best.” 

The remnants of your heart shattered, a thousand shards of glass piercing your chest. The words echoed in your mind, each syllable a dagger twisting deeper, sharper. Yanking your wrists to no avail, the robots’ grip too strong, you gritted your teeth. 

“That’s the thing about choice,” you said, raw and rough like the weathered bark of an old tree, “it can lead to terrible suffering, but it can also lead to such incredible beauty. You once said that loving me wasn’t a choice, but if it had been, you would have chosen to love me every time. Do you regret it now, in all your infinite wisdom? Do you regret being with me when I’m…like this? Controlled by emotion, when you can’t fix my problems?”

You did not wait to hear his answer, the words tumbling from your chapped lips. “Because I don’t. I would have endured a thousand years of this just for one more second with you, Viktor. My love for you is a part of me, to take that away, to take any of my feelings away, would be to kill me. And I will always choose you, even if it means I end up like this. You are worth it.” You sucked in a sharp breath, holding back the tears that brimmed in your red-rimmed eyes. “But maybe, in a way, you’re right.” 

“What are you—“ Jayce started, but you weren’t finished. 

“This is partially my fault, isn’t it? I just couldn’t let you go, and in holding on, I pushed you towards this - hellbent on removing the cause of your pain, as well as mine.” Hot tears spilled down your cheeks, salt coating your tongue, but you refused to allow them to drag you down into the murky pits of your despair. “But I think…you couldn’t let me go either. That’s why you avoided me once you’d realized what you’d become. It’s why you turned me into this that night in the cave, and why you wanted me to give you the Hexcore instead of letting it tear me apart. It was all because you loved me, and you made that active choice to fight for us. But the Hexcore stole your humanity, piece by piece, and I’m so fucking sorry I can’t give it back.”

Viktor stilled, the hold his robots’ had on you slackening. If only you could see the emotion behind that mask, the animated expressions you loved so dearly; the crinkle of his nose in distaste, the soft play of a smile over his lips and the way it quirked up towards his beauty mark.

“I was…” he began, turning his head to the side as though seeing memories unfold before his eyes that had been buried beneath his suppressed emotions. “Unwilling to live without you.”

A chink in the armour, a small crack in his hardened shell. But Viktor had always been skilled at patching up broken things. 

“It was an error I will never repeat.”

His hand reached out, fingers splayed against Jayce’s forehead, tilting his head back as light shone from his eyes and mouth - held in a silent scream. 

“No!” you cried, a primal sound of anguish and desperation tearing from your throat. You couldn’t lose the last friend you had left, even if you both hated and loved him. Your magic surged forth unbidden, a force of raw power that shattered the robots' grip on your wrists. Their metallic fingers crumbled like ash, scattering in the wind as you lunged forward.

Time seemed to slow as you raced towards Viktor and Jayce, your feet barely touching the ground. Your hand stretched out, fingers spread wide, reaching for Viktor's ankle - anything to shove him off balance and release his partner. You were so close, close enough to feel the hum of his changed body, to see the intricate patterns etched into the metal of his mask. For a fleeting second, you allowed yourself to hope.

But hope, as you'd learned, was a fickle thing.

Before your fingertips could brush against Viktor's form, you felt cold metal fingers wrap around your wrists once more. More robots had taken the place of the ones you’d destroyed and they seized you with callous strength. This time, they didn't stop at your arms. Unyielding hands clamped around your calves, rooting you to the spot.

You thrashed wildly, your magic lashing out in erratic bursts of bright light. But it was no use.

“Your fight is over, you may rest now, miláčku.”

The once sweet term of endearment was now a grating sound, like nails on a chalkboard, in that robotic voice. It reverberated through your body, almost bringing you to your knees.

Something inside you crumbled. The hope you'd been clinging to, the desperate belief that you could reach him, save him, shattered like brittle glass. 

Every step of this journey flashed before your eyes - the late nights in the lab, the focus on his survival above all else, the Hexcore and his numbed emotions. You saw now how each choice had led to this moment. The road to hell, paved with good intentions.

Your conversation with Soraka echoed in your ears. "Was I destined to lose him?" you’d asked. "You were destined to love him, for however long you had," she’d responded. Destined to love him, not to cure him, not to help him figure out a way to survive. The answer had been there all along, you’d just refused to see it.

You laughed, humourless and tinged with a manic edge. “You should know me better by now. I will never give up on you.”

As if on cue, a clattering trill pulled your attention to the slope of the Hexgate. A young boy with white dreads, and a worn brown jacket flapping in the wind, raced towards Viktor with lightning speed. His hoverboard hummed with neon green energy, leaving trails of light behind him as he weaved through throngs of robots. They grasped at him, but were met with empty space as he flew by, always a fraction too slow to catch him. As he drew closer and you saw the determined set of his jaw, the conviction in his eyes, it dawned on you; this was the Firelight leader you’d seen in your visions of Heimerdinger, if your knowledge was correct. Ekko, the Boy Saviour.

Viktor stood motionless, a dark silhouette, as one particularly agile robot scuttled over his shoulder. Its spindly legs carried it with unnerving speed towards Ekko, who banked hard to avoid its lunge. You held your breath, certain the machine would make contact, but the boy twisted at the last second, the robot's hand closing on nothing but air.

His victory was short-lived. As he attempted to circle back, a swarm of robots converged on him from all sides. They moved with eerie synchronization, cutting off every possible escape route. You saw the moment he realized he was trapped, his eyes widening in alarm, panic setting in as they lifted him up.

“Viktor,” you said, your voice reedy as you called his attention away from Ekko. He turned his head, an instinctive need to ensure your safety. “I wasn’t ever supposed to ensure you survived, that wasn’t my purpose, as much as I wish it could have been. I was just supposed to love you, and I lost sight of that somewhere underneath all my fear of losing you, of being alone.” Your voice cracked, but you didn’t waver. “I should have cherished the time I had with you instead of being focused on preventing the future. I will always want more, but not like this, not when it means you lose everything that made you, you.”

You were a steadfast and unshakeable force, rooted in determination and resolve like a mountain refusing to be moved. Nothing could stray you from this path, not now, not when you had one last fight still left in you. 

He said nothing, face impassive behind the mask. But that he had no dismissive response had your confidence surging. 

Until a robot snatched your backpack from your shoulders. With an effortless motion, it threw the bag up to Viktor, who deftly caught it with his claw. 

“Stop!” you screamed. “Give that back!” 

But it was too late. Viktor's claw unclasped the hook that had been keeping the backpack shut, and turned it upside down. A cascade of empty Gemstones came tumbling out, clattering against the Hexgate like discarded marbles. The dull sound echoed across the surface as they pinged and rolled away - there must have been thirty, even forty husks in that bag. Your sparks, freed from their confinement, zipped through the air, buzzing their excitement and filled to the brim with magic.

You’d never gotten into the habit of listening to what people told you to do.

You coughed, wet and guttural as Viktor's masked face snapped towards you. A grin spread across your lips like melted butter, revealing blood-coated teeth, and the tangy taste of iron filling your mouth. The robots' grip on you loosened slightly in response to Viktor’s surprise, and you swayed unsteadily on your feet as dizziness pricked at your vision.

Viktor took a step back, his body tensing. "You absorbed them," he said, his robotic voice tinged with what might have been awe or horror. "All of them."

You nodded, the magic coursing through your veins, an inferno barely contained within your fragile human form. It gnawed at your insides, a ravenous beast devouring you from within. Your skin felt too tight, as if it might split open at any moment, unable to contain the raw power you'd consumed. 

Viktor's unearthly eyes searched your face. "Why?" he asked, and your magic pricked at the smothered smoke of his disquiet. "You know what that will do to a human body. You'll die."

"It was an easy choice to make if it meant it would get me to you."

Viktor’s unwavering gaze remained fixed on you, even as Ekko broke free from his robots in a blur of colour too fast for your eyes to track.

“I wouldn’t change anything about our time together, Viktor. I love you, remember that,” you whispered, bittersweet as you sobbed around an adoring smile, the iridescent lights of Viktor’s magic reflecting in your tears. 

Ekko reared up behind Viktor, arm raised to throw a container filled with otherworldly energy that seemed to defy all logic. His face contorted in a scream of pure fury as he brought it down.

Not once did Viktor look away from you.

Your hand closed around his ankle and the container collided with the back of Viktor’s head. In a flash that blinded you, your magic billowed out, uncontrollable, and pulled you into its devouring orbit.

Next Chapter

A/N: I apologize for yet another cliffhanger, but it was just too much to put in one chapter! You'll be getting all your answers and the promised happy ending in the next chapter, but I'd love to hear your predictions!

[tired-truffle]

Even the Gods Cry For Us

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 3.9k

Part 15/17

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

"It's dark now and I am very tired. I love you, always. Time is nothing." - Audrey Niffenegger

Masterlist

Wind whistled through your hair, its gentle tune the only sound that filled your ears. It was soothing, in a way, like a lullaby sung by the earth itself. Only, you weren’t sure if you were on Runeterra anymore. 

A vast darkness spread out around you, galaxies and star clusters the only source of light. You felt weightless like a feather floating along a spring breeze. Each breath was a struggle, your lungs fighting against the choked sobs and screams that had long since subsided. Numbness spread through your limbs, your cheeks itching with your dried tears. 

It didn’t matter where you were. Viktor was gone, you’d felt him fade through your fingers. You’d lost him, and you lost yourself. It seemed fitting. Time slipped away like grains of sand in an hourglass, and you fell through nothingness. 

A warmth pulsed dimly in your chest. Pleasant, and familiar in a way you couldn’t describe, you curled around it, tucking it away protectively. The scent of blooming flowers and the bitterness of ink filled your senses, a gentle hug wrapped itself around you, the sounds of laughter echoing in your ear. You’d known that laugh once, light and shy in its joy until coaxed out - a comfort on a long day. Innocent, kind, and intelligent, it felt like sleepovers and whispered confessions hidden in shared giggles.

It had resided in your chest for some time. Subconsciously, you’d been aware of its presence, but you hadn’t acknowledged it - too afraid to hope that it was real and not just another cruel trick.

“You’re not alone,” it said in a soothing tone, one that plucked a dull ache on your heartstrings like a mournful violin. “There are others. Reach out, they are waiting for you.”

But what if you hurt the others, failed to protect them? You couldn’t be trusted with their safety. You couldn’t even ensure the survival of the man you loved more than anything.

The warmth pulsed around you, holding you close. “I have always trusted you, Mila. You did the best you could, but even you can’t save everyone.” 

Why have all these powers if you couldn’t fix everything? Wasn’t that what Soraka had told you to do? 

“Come on,” the warmth tugged at your ribs, unfurling your limbs. “The Mila I know doesn’t give up, not on me, not on Viktor, not on the souls who need you. Search for a spark of your magic and you will find them.” 

You hesitated, torn between the comfort of oblivion and the call to action. But the warmth in your chest pulsed insistently, urging you onward. With a deep breath, you stretched out your awareness, tendrils of consciousness probing the dark expanse around you.

At first, there was nothing but emptiness. Then, like distant stars twinkling into existence, you felt them. Two souls, an echo of your magic encasing their energies, beckoned to you across the void.

The first soul radiated a steady, comforting glow. It felt like tight hugs and bedtime stories, like scraped knees kissed better and proud smiles at your accomplishments. Fatherly love wrapped around you like a well-worn blanket, and you instinctively reached out to embrace it.

The second soul sparkled with an effervescent energy that made you want to laugh and cry at the same time. It bubbled with questions and wonder. Childlike curiosity danced at the edges of your consciousness, tugging at you with an infectious enthusiasm that was impossible to resist.

You pulled the souls towards you and they came willingly, eagerly even, as if they had been waiting for your summons. As they nestled into your chest alongside the familiar warmth, a new realization took hold.

The stars were not stars at all, but souls, all lost and floating in the void of nothingness.

No sooner had you come to this realization than gravity reasserted its hold on you. You plummeted through the soul-studded oblivion, picking up speed as you fell. The darkness gave way to streaks of light, then swirling iridescent mists, then the solid ground rushing up to meet you.

You hit the earth with the force of a falling comet - your magic creating a shield to take the brunt of the impact as it sent tremors through the ground and kicked up a cloud of dust and debris. Sparks skittered across the floor around you, crackling with residual energy from your descent.

Cool tile seeped through your clothes and into your back, the smell of chemicals, grease, and lemony cleaning products jarring you into alertness. 

You sat up quickly, heart hammering as you registered exactly where you were. Your clothes were rumpled and torn, and there was a wild, haunted look in your vibrant Shimmer-infused eyes.

The lab materialized around you in a dizzying rush of familiar sights, sounds, and smells. Beakers and test tubes clinked softly as they settled from the tremors of your arrival. The air hummed with the low drone of machinery, punctuated by the occasional crackle of electricity. Dust danced in shafts of sunlight that streamed through high windows, catching on the edges of half-finished inventions and carefully labelled jars.

Your gaze swept across the room, taking in the organized chaos of Viktor's workspace. His Hextech designs still adorned the walls, intricate blueprints and diagrams that spoke of dreams yet unrealized - and they would forever stay that way in his absence.

How does one return home, completely and irrevocably changed, only to find everything else has stayed the same? You were still you, but you were not the Mila who had spent most of her time locked up in this lab, desperately trying to figure out her magic to save her friends. 

In the end, you’d let them down. 

As you stood, swiping your fingers along desks entirely to clean, the memories rushed back like a roaring river, flooding your mind with bittersweet longing. 

"Mom, Dad, this is where the magic happens!" Sky exclaimed, spreading her arms wide as she ushered them into the room. Her parents, a kind-faced couple with matching graying hair, looked around with awe and bewilderment in the wide set of their eyes.

You'd been hunched over a workbench, trying to pull apart two pieces of tech that Jayce had sat on, squashing them together - it was salvageable, or at least you hoped so - but had perked up upon Sky’s unexpected visitors. She’d told you they were coming, but in your infinite wisdom, you’d forgotten that they were coming today.

"And this is my friend, Mila!" She grabbed your arm, pulling you up and forward with surprising strength for someone with such a distinct lack of muscle.

You stumbled, nearly knocking over a rack of test tubes, your cheeks flushing as you found yourself suddenly the center of attention. "Um, hello," you managed, awkwardly wiping your hands on your pants and smearing grease from your palms. Perfect. You were thankful that neither Jayce nor Viktor were present to see your embarrassment.

Sky's mother smiled kindly, reaching out to clasp your hand, not at all bothered by how dirty it was. "So you're the famous Mila we've heard so much about! Sky talks about you constantly."

"Mom!" Sky protested, her cheeks turning pink.

Her father chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "It's true. We were beginning to think you were some sort of magical creature she'd invented."

You laughed then, a bit too forced - little did they know how true that was. "No, I'm quite real. Though sometimes I wonder if Sky isn't the magical one, the way she makes machines come to life."

Sky beamed at the compliment, launching into an enthusiastic explanation of her latest project. You watched, a fond smile on your face, as she darted around the lab, pointing out various inventions and experiments.

Her parents listened attentively, nodding along even when it was clear they didn't understand half of what she was saying. But their pride was evident in every glance, every encouraging word.

As the tour wound down, Sky's mother turned to you. "Thank you," she said quietly, while Sky was distracted showing her father a particularly complex diagram. "For being her friend. For understanding her. We worry, you know, with her being from the Undercity."

You shook your head, your gaze drawn to Sky's animated face as she gestured wildly, explaining some more intricate details. "How could I not? She's brilliant. And kind. And…" you paused, searching for the right words. "She makes the world brighter, just by being in it."

Sky's mother squeezed your hand, her eyes glistening. "I'm so glad she has you," she whispered.

And some friend you’d been. Would Sky’s parents be grateful that she had disappeared without a trace, reduced to ashes because you couldn’t stop it in time?

The memory shifted, colours swirling and reforming in new shapes and patterns.

You were perched on the edge of a workbench, legs swinging freely as you gesticulated wildly, your voice rising and falling with enthusiasm. Sky sat on a stool in front of you, chin propped on her hands, her bright eyes fixed on you with rapt attention.

"I'm telling you, Sky, that Poro understands everything! Have you seen the way he looks at Heimerdinger when he's explaining his theories? Those beady little eyes are practically glowing with comprehension!"

Sky shook her head, her curls bouncing with the movement. "Poros are adorable, sure, but they're just animals. Clever animals, maybe, but not capable of understanding complex scientific concepts."

You leaned forward, nearly toppling off the workbench in your eagerness. "But what if they are? What if Poros are actually hyper-intelligent beings from another dimension, just pretending to be cute and fluffy to study us?"

Sky burst into laughter, the sound echoing off the lab's high ceilings. "Now you're just being ridiculous," she giggled, wiping tears from her eyes.

You grinned, about to launch into another wild theory when movement across the room caught your eye. Viktor stood by his workstation, a half-assembled device forgotten in his hands as he watched your animated discussion. His face was softer than you'd ever seen it, the usual sharp lines of concentration smoothed away. A small, almost imperceptible smile played at the corners of his mouth, his eyes warm with an emotion you couldn't quite name.

As your gaze met his, his smile widened just a fraction, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. Surrounded by the familiar disarray of the lab, with Sky's laughter still ringing in your ears and Viktor's gentle gaze upon you, you felt a sense of belonging so profound it made your chest ache.

You'd opened your mouth, about to call Viktor over to settle the debate, when a loud crash from the other side of the lab shattered the moment. Jayce's voice rang out, a string of colourful curses following the sound of breaking glass.

Viktor's demeanour shifted instantly, the softness replaced by a look of stern concentration. He strode towards the source of the commotion, already calling out instructions and admonishments.

You and Sky exchanged a glance, barely containing your laughter as you hopped off the bench to help clean up whatever mess had been made.

Jayce, oh how you hated him now, yearned to tear him to shreds like he had done to your heart, put a hole in his chest like he’d done to Viktor. Yet even still, as another memory washed over you, seeing him smiling with perfectly white teeth, laughing as he clapped Viktor a little too hard on the shoulder and made him stumble - revenge for an earlier teasing remark - had a bone-deep longing rattling through your ribcage. 

You blinked, and the scene had changed again.

Viktor stood beside Jayce's workstation, the end of his cane hovering just an inch away from Jayce's leg. A mischievous glint sparkled in Viktor's eyes, and you watched with thinly veiled interest.

"It's not touching you," Viktor insisted, his voice deadpan, always committed to the bit.

Jayce, hunched over a delicate piece of Hextech machinery, glared up at Viktor. "Yes, it is," he grumbled, trying to focus on the intricate wiring before him.

"No, it's not," Viktor countered. "There's a clear inch of space between my cane and your leg. I fail to see how that constitutes touching."

Jayce's hands stilled, and he straightened up, fixing Viktor with an exasperated glower. "I can feel the energy from your cane, Viktor. It's disrupting my work."

"Ah, but feeling energy is not the same as physical contact," Viktor replied, his voice taking on the lecturing tone he often used when explaining, well, anything. "If we were to consider every instance of energy transfer as 'touching,' we'd never stop touching anything or anyone. The implications for personal space would be quite alarming."

Before you could contain it, you snorted in an entirely undignified manner, clapping your hands over your nose and mouth much too late. Jayce’s scowl turned on you. "Mila, please tell Viktor to stop being a pest and let me work in peace."

You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence even as you grinned. "I don't know, Jayce. Viktor makes a compelling argument about the nature of touch and energy transfer. Perhaps we should conduct a series of experiments to determine the exact parameters of-"

"Oh, not you too," Jayce groaned, but there was no real annoyance in his voice. He turned back to Viktor, gesturing dramatically with a tiny screwdriver. "Fine, you win this round. But I swear, if that cane comes any closer, you’ll find your fridge empty of sweet milk."

Viktor's eyes widened in mock horror. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me," Jayce challenged, a competitive gleam in his eye.

You missed your friends, your family, the good times you’d shared and taken for granted. You’d fought so damn hard, but you’d lost it all. 

The memories came quicker. 

Your fingers brushed Viktor’s as he passed you a pen, a static shock passing between you making you jump back and blush. 

Sky’s shy smile as she invited you to have a sleepover at her apartment that night, a girl’s night, she’d called it. 

Jayce, sound asleep, his head propped up by his forearm, and mouth agape. Wads of balled-up paper littered the desk and floor around him as you and Viktor took turns trying to get them in his mouth. You both held back your snickers when a perfectly aimed shot hit him in the middle of the forehead and he snorted, disgruntled in his rest. And Sky’s exasperated huff when she’d caught you. 

Hands held in yours - thinner than ever before but no less beautiful, always so beautiful. Curls at the nape of his neck that he wound around his finger as he concentrated. The beauty mark on his upper lip quirking up as he suppressed a grin. 

Tears flowed freely down your cheeks, your chest hiccupping with sobs. As the images faded, so too did the last remnants of hope and happiness. Alone, you were alone in a place that had once felt like home but was now a tomb to the lives you’d lost. 

Your knees cracked against the floor, echoing across the empty lab. You didn’t feel it beneath the weight of your anguish, pressing down on you like an anvil. Hadn’t you cried enough, hurt enough? When would the world deem your suffering enough? When would it stop stealing the people you loved? 

Viktor, fuck, you couldn’t breathe. He was gone and you were here. Left behind like a broken doll at the bottom of the bin. Not beautifully broken, but shattered like a porcelain figurine thrown onto sharpened rocks. Your lungs expanded rapidly, but no air reached them. 

Why did he leave you? He’d promised to stay, had you not been what he wanted? Too much and too little at the same time. 

No, you had been, he’d loved you, you’d felt it in every touch, saw it in every glance. He hadn’t wanted to go. Why did that make it so much worse? To have had such devotion, such tender love, only to have it cruelly ripped away. 

“Viktor,” you sobbed his name, the heels of your palms pressed against your eyes until you saw stars. “Please, come back.”

But he didn’t answer. 

It was only you. 

And the pulsing warmth inside your chest. But even they did little to soothe you. 

The sparks, your magical vessels, glowed and faded in time with the warmth, vibrating their anguish as crystalline shards fell like tears from their tiny forms. 

Lost in your own grief, the creak of the door and soft padding footsteps went unnoticed. Until a familiar voice pierced through your thoughts with a startled, "Mila?" And with an animalistic instinct, you lunged. 

In a blur of motion, you launched yourself at the intruder, slamming his back against the cold, unforgiving wall. Your limbs rippled with power as you held him in place, your feral snarl echoing in the emptiness of the room.

“Jayce,” you spat with pure hatred, your nostalgia for your friendship fracturing under the force of your rage. “You killed him.”

You were a mess, hair frazzled, red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks, but your magic was strengthened by your grief, your wild emotions fuelling it like gasoline on a bonfire. Even with all his strength, Jayce wouldn’t be able to break your hold. 

Yet, he didn’t try. He simply stared at you with wide, glassy eyes, and his lips parted. “I thought…” he exhaled shakily, “I thought you were dead.”

All at once, your rage, your anger and need to inflict your pain upon him died. He looked at you with such pure relief - despite the threat you posed - that against your will, your hold on him loosened. 

Gritting your teeth, you shook your head.

“Why?” you sobbed, your voice cracking as tears spilled down your cheeks anew. “Why did you do it?”

His face fell, horror and grief pressing down on him like the weight of the world itself. “It’s complicated,” he said quietly, not meeting your eyes. 

You scoffed, and suddenly the feel of him made your skin crawl and burn. With a rough shove, you pushed him to the side. He stumbled, barely catching himself on a nearby desk, arms slamming down to stop himself from falling. 

“That’s not good enough,” you growled, magic swirling around you. “You will tell me why, or I will make you.” 

His eyes darted towards the door, and following his gaze you were affronted by his unnatural-looking hammer. Spiralled webbing covered the warped surface, crawling up the handle like a poisonous vine. It reeked of depravity and degeneration. A bastardized purpose. A weapon that should never have been made in the first place. 

You gave him a glare of warning, fingers twitching. He had the good sense to look ashamed. 

“Sorry. Instinct. It’s been a crazy few months.” 

You took him in, his healed facial scars, shaggy hair and scruffy beard, the leg brace. 

“Explain.” 

With a heavy sigh, he did. He kept it short, but the more he spoke, the more you realized exactly how big the stakes were. 

“So you…” you pursed your lips, a pang echoing in your heart. “You killed him because a future version of himself told you that you couldn’t allow that future to happen? You didn’t even try to talk to him first?” 

Jayce winced. “He was already corrupted by the Hexcore, and I made a promise to him that I’d destroy it. Besides, I wasn’t exactly thinking straight. You try eating only corrupted newts for a few months and see what it does to your sanity.”

You tapped your foot impatiently on the tile floor, arms crossed over your chest. It still wasn’t a good enough answer. Jayce hadn’t even tried to figure something out, just shot him in the chest like he was putting down a rabid dog. You had half a mind to do the same to him.

Sensing your growing fury, Jayce reluctantly added, “It didn’t work, okay? He’s not entirely dead, though he’s not the Viktor we knew anymore.”

Blood rushed from your face, your mouth falling open as your breath caught in your throat. Your head felt light and dizziness overtook you as the room spun, throwing off your equilibrium. You gripped the edge of a workbench, warping the metal, as you steadied yourself. 

Surely, you hadn’t heard him correctly. “What did you just say?”

His jaw clenched and he stared at the ground as those it had insulted his mother. “It’s not him, Mila. Whatever’s left isn’t what made him our friend.” 

“But there’s something left.” 

“Nothing good.” 

You didn’t care. If there was even a sliver of Viktor left then there was hope. 

“I swear to God Jayce, if you’re lying to me in some pathetic attempt to save your own skin—“

“I’m not.” He cut you off. “I wouldn’t do that to you. We were friends once, weren’t we?” 

“You were Viktor’s friend too, but friends don’t typically try to murder each other so I wouldn’t put a lot of stock in your understanding of friendship. You tried to kill your best friend. He would have done anything for you. You’re here and he’s not,” your voice cracked and you cleared your throat. “Your excuse isn’t good enough and that you’d just give up on him…how could you, Jayce?”

Jayce's shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of him. He ran a hand through his hair. "You're right," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t have any good excuses other than it needed to be done. The Hexcore cannot continue to exist. It will destroy everything."

“That was Viktor, not the Hexcore.”

“He was both.”

And you had been the one to merge him with the Hexcore. You watched Jayce, your anger still simmering beneath the surface, but tempered now by the weariness in every line of his face. The familiar hum of machinery provided a low, constant backdrop to your ragged breathing.

Your gaze wandered over the cluttered workbenches. Half-finished inventions lay scattered about, a delicate framework of gears and wires catching your eye, reminding you of when Viktor had spent hours explaining his latest breakthrough, his eyes alight with passion.

The memory sent a fresh wave of despair crashing over you, and you gripped the edge of the desk tighter, your knuckles turning white. The metal groaned under your enhanced strength, warping slightly.

Jayce flinched at the sound, his eyes darting nervously between you and the door. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again, words failing him.

“Where is he?” You broke the silence, the magic receded for your fingers, but it remained beneath the surface, ready to be used at a moment's notice. 

“Going after him isn’t going to end well.” The bags beneath his eyes seemed more pronounced in the shadows that hung in the dim light of the lab. 

“Maybe not,” you conceded, “but it is going to end.” 

His eyes scanned yours, darting and calculating like you were an equation he could solve. Whatever he found there was enough for him to straighten and set his shoulders. 

“He’ll be coming with the Noxians, they’re trying to reach the Hexgates. If Viktor gets a hold of them, this entire world is doomed. If you think you can persuade him otherwise then I won’t stop you, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

You nodded, scanning the lab. “I think I know something that can help. How many gemstones do you have in here?” 

“A few dozen, probably. Why?”

You grinned, and Jayce blanched. What more did you have to lose?

Next Chapter

A/N: I did emotional damage to myself with the quote for this chapter :'(

Only two more left! I'm very excited for the next chapter, lots of things happening for these two!

I would love to know what you guys think of the warmth and two other souls Mila found!

[tired-truffle]

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)

[tired-truffle]

Even the Gods Cry For Us

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 5.7k

Part 13/17

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

"Sometimes we don't want to heal because the pain is the last link to what we’ve lost." - J.M. Storm

Masterlist

“You have to be good at something.��� Charlotte shook her head, sighing her exasperation.

“Evidently, my skills don’t lie in anything we’ve tried so far.” The tangled mess of knitting to your side taunted you. You must have been capable of doing some things back in your world. Why was it that when you’d come to Runeterra, you’d been unable to do most basic activities and chores with any sort of success? Had that been the price of having magic? 

Seemed like a strange trade, but it wasn’t like you’d had much of a choice - nor would you have chosen any other option if it meant you didn’t get to meet Viktor. 

“Charlotte,” you started, a thought occurring to you, entirely separate from the topic at hand, “why are they called “the Firelights’?”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow, “I would imagine it has something to do with firelights, but given that I’m not a member, I haven’t a clue.”

That did very little to answer your question, so you pushed on. “What exactly is a firelight?”

Charlotte narrowed her eyes at you. “Are you pulling my leg, girl? How could you not know what a firelight is? Greenish glowing butt bugs that fly around at night mostly, they’re everywhere.”

You had seen insects matching that description, but that still made little sense to you. “You mean fireflies?”

From the look Charlotte gave you, you would have thought you’d asked her to eat one of the supposed firelights. With a huff, she shook her head. “You say the darndest things sometimes.” She turned towards the next tent, seeing something that caught her eye, “You wait here, I’ll be right back.”

You’d barely had time to voice your confirmation when a clear container with one of your sparks floating idly around broke through your line of sight, two small hands grasping it on either side. 

Blinking, you lowered your gaze until you came upon the proudly grinning face of the young girl you’d met on the way to Stillwater. 

“Oh, hello,” you said with a smile, relief flooding through you and making your limbs weaken. You crouched down to her height and suppressed the waver in your voice. “I’m so happy to see you’re alright. Though I didn’t expect that you’d still have one of my sparks.”

You poked the container, the spark inside zipping around as it reacted to your touch. The girl grinned wider, her helmet flopping as he tilted her head to the side.

“Isha!” A girl called from behind you, and though you’d never met her in person before, you’d heard her speak in a vision and recognized the voice instantly; it belonged to Jinx. “What are you doing? You can’t just go running off like that. Get back here!”

Your vision blurred without warning, the world around you fading into a hazy orange glow.

Isha, unmistakable in her painted helmet and little blue braids, sprinted through a war-torn landscape. Smoke billowed from all directions, and the air was thick with the acetic scent of burning flesh. Her large boots slapped against blood-slicked ground as she dodged debris and fallen bodies. The spark container, now cracked and dirty, bounced on her hip.

You watched, helpless, as she darted between clashing soldiers. Their weapons clanged in bursts of crackling energy and sprays of crimson. Isha weaved through them with a desperate grace, her eyes wide with determination and fear.

For a fleeting moment, you caught a glimpse of a circular structure in the distance, the ceiling blown out; this was the commune.

But before you could grasp any further details, you were launched back into your body, swaying as you adjusted to the difference in time.

Useless, as always. Warning you of things to come but not how to stop it. You clenched your fists at your side, exhaling shakily.

Isha stared up at you, her large eyes wide with wonder. It had been a long time since you’d had a vision in front of anyone who wasn’t Viktor, but you couldn’t blame her for being curious about your glowing eyes. 

You cleared your throat and straightened, trying to shake off the lingering disorientation from the vision. The world around you seemed to snap back into focus, colours intensifying as your eyes readjusted. Isha still gazed up at you, her mouth slightly agape, the spark container clutched tightly to her chest.

Before you could say anything, a blur of vibrant colours rushed past you. Jinx skidded to a halt, her long, blue braids whipping around her torso as she grabbed Isha's hand. The older girl's chest heaved, clearly out of breath from chasing after Isha.

"Sorry about her," Jinx began, her words tumbling out in a rushed stream. "She's just so curious about everything, wouldn’t know a warf-rat was dangerous unless it bit her on the—"

Jinx's rambling apology cut off abruptly as her gaze met yours. Her eyes, a striking shade of pink - so similar to your own - narrowed suspiciously. The manic energy that had propelled her forward seemed to evaporate, replaced by a wary stillness that set your nerves on edge.

“Have I…seen you somewhere before? You look awfully familiar.” 

“Oh, uh, probably not.” You had never been a good liar. “I just have one of those faces.”

She rocked back on her heels, her braids swaying as she eyed the floating sparks. “Think I’d remember a mage in the city that famously hates mages. Have you always had…these?”

She waved at the sparks, and Isha raised her container, shaking it for Jinx to see and blessedly diverting her attention, allowing you to avoid her question.

You watched as Jinx's eyes darted between you and the spark container, and you could almost taste the sour tang of her suspicion.

"Isha, give the lady her…thing back," Jinx said, her voice unnaturally slow and deliberate. Her eyes never left your face, searching for something - recognition, perhaps, or deceit.

"It's okay," you said quickly, holding up your hands in a display of innocence. "It's a gift. She can keep it."

The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them, surprising even yourself. But as you gazed at Isha's hopeful face, framed by those bright blue braids and the oversized helmet, you knew you couldn't bear to take it back. The spark inside the container seemed to pulse in agreement, casting a soft, ethereal glow on the child's round cheeks. Besides, you had plenty more of them, you could do with one less.

Jinx's eyebrows shot up. "A gift? You're just handing out magical…whatever-these-are to random kids?" She laughed, a sharp, disbelieving sound. "That's either really generous or really stupid. Maybe both."

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant despite the nervous flutter in your chest. "It's harmless, I promise. Just a bit of light, really."

Jinx's eyes narrowed again, her gaze boring into you with an intensity that made you want to squirm. "Are you sure we haven't met before? There's something about you that's just so familiar."

Your heart raced, and you could feel a bead of sweat forming at the nape of your neck. You desperately wished for Viktor's steadying presence, his logical mind that could navigate these treacherous conversational waters. But he wasn't here, and you were left to flounder on your own.

"I-I don't think so," you stammered, cursing your inability to lie convincingly.

Jinx tilted her head, her long braids swaying like colourful pendulums. "Huh. Weird. Could've sworn I'd seen your face before. Maybe in a dream or something." She shrugged, her restless energy returning as quickly as it had vanished. "Ah, well. C'mon, Isha. Let's let the nice glowy lady get back to her glowing in peace."

Jinx started to turn away, then paused. She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Word of advice, Sparkles. If you're gonna lie, at least try to make it believable. You're worse at it than a Piltie trying to blend in down here."

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, but before you could stammer out a response, Jinx was already moving. Isha waved goodbye from Jinx's side, the spark container clutched tightly in her other hand. You watched them disappear into the commune, your mind reeling from the encounter. The lingering image of your vision - Isha running through a battlefield that happened to be in your home - overlapped with the reality of her cheerful farewell.

And all it did was strike panic into your heart, with no way to stop that disaster from happening.

“Somehow, that doesn’t shock me.” You sighed, wiping your hand down your face. “Vander died but was revived and mutated into a feral wolf creature and now his adopted daughters have brought him to you to bring him back to himself.”

Viktor had filled you in, and you’d shared with him the contents of your vision of Isha. Worrying as it was, there wasn’t much that either of you could do about it except keep an eye out for trouble. If only you’d been able to get a better look at the soldiers, but with all that dust and carnage, you hadn’t been able to make out any identifying marks.

“That about sums it up, yes.” Viktor disconnected himself from the wires, floating down to stand beside you with quiet clacks as his feet touched the ground. 

“And you think you can do that?” You’d encountered him that night at Stillwater, all feral rage and brutality, like a rabid dog unleashed on a burrow of bunnies. 

He smiled, trailing his fingers down your cheeks. “I do, though I would greatly appreciate your assistance.”

“You…” you frowned, unsure what exactly he thought you could do, “want me to help?”

“I do.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his other hand resting on your hip and tracing little circles through the fabric of your clothes. “You have the most experience with losing yourself beneath layers of pain and fear, and your ability to return my emotions has been extraordinary. You’re the perfect candidate.” 

You snorted, but could do little to cover your blush when his face was so close to yours, watching you with an ardour that made your stomach ripple. “Flatterer.” 

“Eh, it’s simply the truth.” He inched closer to you, and you tilted your chin up in response. But as your eyes fluttered closed, his lips ghosting over yours, you were rudely interrupted. 

“Huh, didn’t expect the metal fortune cookie to have a girlfriend, but I guess everyone has a type.” Jinx leaned against the entryway, arms crossed lazily. “Don’t stop on my account, I’m curious about how this works.” 

With an exasperated but tolerant sigh, Viktor stepped back. “You have a vast imagination, Jinx, I’m certain you could figure it out. But perhaps there are better uses for your time.” Jinx rolled her eyes and you coughed to cover your choke. Viktor’s eyes sparkled with mirth, and he continued, “Milá was just agreeing to aid me with Vander.”

You didn’t remember agreeing to anything, but best to present a united front, right? 

“Hard to agree when you’ve got a tongue down your throat,” Jinx grumbled, and you resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of your nose. “But how can a sparkly mage help anyway?” 

“I’d have to see him first to really get a sense of what I could do. My magic is tied to emotions, so I could potentially connect to his, but my magic is still relatively new, I don’t have the best grasp of its potential,” you answered, stepping forward. “I’d only do it if you want me to try. He’s your father.”

Jinx pursed her lips, considering your words as her vibrant pink eyes darted about the floor. With a huff, she blew her bangs out from her face. “I’ll talk to Vi,” she said at last. “Isha likes you, so you can’t be all bad. I’ll make sure she knows.”

Without further ado, Jinx turned on her heel, sauntering away with a causal “Toodles!” tossed over her shoulder.

You watched Jinx's retreating form, her braids swaying with each step. As her footsteps faded, you turned back to Viktor.

"Well," you sighed, "that was…interesting."

Viktor's lips quirked into a small smile. "Indeed.” And without missing a beat, he added, “Shall we take a walk while we give the girls some time to debate our assistance?”

You took his offered hand, beaming at him. “I would love to.”

Your eyes were drawn to a massive shape hunched in the corner of the greenhouse. Vander - or what used to be Vander - crouched behind a row of leafy ferns. His fur was matted and dull, piercing eyes peering out from the foliage, wary and wild. A low growl rumbled from his throat as you entered. Compared to the last time you saw him, this was a vast improvement - the green of the tank on his back a much more pleasant colour than the vibrant red.

Vi stood protectively in front of him, her stance tense and ready for a fight. Her pink hair was dishevelled, dark circles around her eyes. She was every bit the fiery woman you’d heard her to be, you only wished your visions could have helped her before that haunted look soaked permanently into her features. Jinx lounged on a nearby rock, legs swinging, but her casual posture contradicted the sharpness in her gaze. Little Isha sat cross-legged on the ground, surrounded by a semicircle of multicoloured pebbles she must have taken from the garden beds.

“So,” Vi kicked at the ground, her hands shoved in the pockets of her scuffed-up pants, “you’re the mage that wants to help Vander?”

“Mila,” you corrected gently, “much easier to say than all of that. But yes, I am.” 

“Right,” Vi nodded, eyes darting to Jinx who was pretending not to pay attention, fiddling with the ends of her braids.

You shifted your stance, feeling the weight of Vi's scrutiny. Her eyes, exhausted and wary, bored into you. The greenhouse's humidity clung to your skin, making you acutely aware of every bead of sweat forming on the small of your back.

"So, how exactly does this magic of yours work?" Vi's voice was gruff, laced with skepticism.

You took a deep breath, searching for the right words. "It's…complicated," you began, your gaze drifting to the sparks that danced around you. They pulsed gently as if encouraging you. "My magic is tied to emotions. It's like a bridge between hearts, I guess."

Vi's eyebrow arched, her lips pursing. "A bridge?"

"Yes," you nodded, warming to the metaphor. "I can sense emotions, sometimes even influence them. It's like reaching out and touching someone's soul, feeling what they feel. Though I’ve only done it a handful of times. It's recently only started to cooperate."

As you spoke, a spark drifted towards Isha. The little girl's eyes widened, her hand reaching out to touch it. The spark danced just beyond her fingertips, casting a soft blue glow on her face.

"I'm still learning," you admitted, watching the interaction and deciding it was best to be honest about your inexperience. "It's not an exact science so I can’t make any promises that it’ll make a difference."

Vi softened slightly, her eyes flickering to Vander's huddled form. "And you think this can help him?"

You nodded, trying to project more confidence than you felt. "If I could reach the part of him that's still him, beneath everything else, maybe - and I want to emphasize the maybe - I can help bring him back."

Vi chewed her lip, her gaze darting between you, Viktor, and Vander. The greenhouse fell silent, save for the gentle rustling of leaves and Vander's occasional growl. Even Jinx had stopped fidgeting, her sharp eyes fixed on her sister.

Finally, Vi's shoulders sagged. "Alright," she said. "You’re the healer,” she nodded her head at Viktor, “if you think it could work, well, we'll take all the help we can get."

A wave of relief washed over you, tinged with nervous anticipation. You prayed you wouldn't let them down, they’d had enough disappointment in their lives already.

With a reassuring nod from Viktor, you slowly made your way toward Vander, your heart hammering against your ribcage with each hesitant step.

Vander tracked your every movement. His massive form tensed as you drew near, muscles rippling beneath matted fur. A low, rumbling growl vibrated through the space, the hair at the nape of your neck standing on end.

When you were just a few feet away, you slowly lowered yourself to one knee. The cool stone seeped through your clothes, grounding you. You took a deep breath, inhaling the rich, earthy scent of the greenhouse. Your sparks danced around you, casting shifting patterns of light across Vander's fur.

"Hello, Vander," you said, barely above a whisper. You smiled, hoping to convey warmth and safety. "You've raised two incredible daughters. Strong, brave, and fiercely loyal. You must be so proud."

At the mention of his daughters, something flickered in Vander's eyes. The growl faded, replaced by a softer rumble. His massive head tilted slightly, regarding you with what might have been curiosity.

Encouraged, you continued, "They love you so much, and they haven’t given up on you. That speaks volumes about the father you were and still are."

Vander's posture relaxed slightly, his shoulders lowering from their defensive hunch. You could feel the shift in the air, the tension easing ever so slightly.

Taking a deep breath, you reached out with your magic. It unfurled from you like tendrils of light, invisible to the others but brilliant in your mind's eye. As your magic touched Vander, a surge of warring emotions crashed over you.

Pain, raw and searing, engulfed you and ripped you apart from the inside out. Your chest constricted, muscles tensing as you fought against the urge to scream. But beneath the physical agony lay a deeper, gnawing anguish that clawed at your insides, threatening to hollow you out.

Grief followed, a bottomless well of sorrow that drowned you. The sound of screams echoed in your ears and the weight of responsibility crushed down on broad shoulders.

You gritted your teeth, forcing yourself to breathe through the onslaught. Sweat beaded on your forehead, your hands trembling with the effort of maintaining the connection.

You pushed further, digging deeper. That couldn’t be all there was, there had to be something else beneath, something to keep him going. You felt it then. Love. Pure, fierce, unconditional love. Love for Vi and Jinx, burning bright and unfaltering. Love for Zaun - not just the place, but its people. Vander's pride in the resilience of the Undercity, his admiration for those who carved out lives amidst a sea of injustice.

But these were all just pieces of him, to truly sort through such a complex web… The strands of his emotions writhed and pulsed, each one lashing out to ensnare you. Fear coiled around your ankles like a skeletal hand while rage burned hot against your skin. Despair hung heavy in your lungs, thick and cloying, making it difficult to breathe. Echoes of explosions reverberated in your ears, punctuated by the heart-wrenching cries of children. Your vision blurred with tears - were they yours or Vander's? It was impossible to tell where you ended and he began.

You pulled back, gasping for air as if you'd been underwater. Your lungs burned, and your head spun with lingering echoes of Vander. Sweat trickled down your temples, and your hands shook as you pushed yourself to your feet.

"He’s all tangled up like barbed wire. It's a maze in there." You closed your eyes, trying to steady yourself as the world tilted around you. "But I think…I think I might be able to help unravel them. It could make it easier for Viktor to pry his consciousness out of the pain."

You’d seen that glimmer of love within him, and while it was surrounded by horror, there had to be some way to reach it and pull it out without ripping it to shreds.

Vi's eyes lit up with desperate hope, while Jinx leaned forward, her vibrant energy subdued. "You can do that?" Vi asked as though she was afraid of your answer.

You nodded, then immediately regretted it as a wave of dizziness washed over you. Viktor’s hand on your elbow steadied you, and you leaned into his touch. "Maybe," you amended, not wanting to give false hope. "It's not a guarantee, but it's a chance."

“A chance is better than what we had a day ago.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Viktor took the opportunity to cut in. "We will do everything we can to restore Vander," he said, his hand still steady on your elbow. "However, this process will require concentration and a calm environment."

Jinx snorted, twirling one of her braids around her finger. "Yeah, because this greenhouse is such a party central."

Viktor's lips twitched, suppressing a smile. "Nevertheless, Milá and I will need space to work. Perhaps you'd like to explore the commune? There are quite a few fascinating innovations I'm sure you'd appreciate."

Vi nodded, her gaze lingering on Vander, reluctant to part from him. "Right, yeah. We should…we should go." She turned to Jinx and Isha, gesturing towards the door.

Jinx hopped off her perch, stretching languidly. "Ooh, alone time with the boyfriend, huh?" she said, wiggling her eyebrows at you. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

"Jinx!" Vi hissed, glowering at Jinx. "This isn't the time for-"

"Relax, sis," Jinx laughed, slinging an arm around Vi's shoulders. "I'm just lightening the mood. Come on, let's go see what kind of trouble we can get into out there. Let the magic people do their magic thing."

As they left, Isha trailing behind them with her pebbles clutched in her tiny fists, you turned back to Vander. The massive creature watched you with wary eyes, but there was something else there now - a glimmer of recognition, perhaps even hope.

And you would hold onto that hope as hard as you could.

You spent the next several days immersed in Vander's tangled psyche. Each morning, you and Viktor settled into a rhythm - you'd reach out with your magic, creating a bridge of calm amidst the choppy waves and cries of Vander's emotions, while Viktor carefully probed at his consciousness.

The landscape of Vander's mind was a treacherous terrain. You navigated through dark caverns of despair, their walls slick with grief and mildew. Jagged peaks of rage jutted up suddenly, forcing you to climb hand over foot, your fingers bloodied by the time you reached the summit. Vast deserts of emptiness stretched as far as the eye could see, mirages of hope shimmering on the horizon only to vanish as you drew near.

But there were moments of beauty too. Oases of love, verdant and lush, where memories of Vi and Jinx as children played like a sweet melody. You lingered in these spaces, drawing strength from the pure joy that radiated from them.

As Viktor worked, you often had to soothe Vander. His emotions would flare up like a wounded animal, lashing out in fear and pain. You'd bundle him up in blankets of calm, whispering reassurances that echoed through the chambers of his mind. "It's okay," you'd murmur, your voice carrying the weight of conviction. "You're safe. We're here to help. Your daughters love you, remember that."

Sometimes, the intensity of it all overwhelmed you. You'd emerge from the trance gasping, your body drenched in sweat, trembling from the effort. Viktor would be there, his cool metal hand on your back, grounding you. "Take a moment," he'd say, his lilting voice a balm to your frayed nerves. "You're doing wonderfully."

As the days passed, you began to see progress. The tangled web of emotions began to loosen, threads of coherent thought weaving through the madness. Vander's growls grew less frequent, replaced by moments of lucidity where his eyes would focus, recognition flickering in their depths - and on the odd day, he would speak in short sentences.

You delved deeper and deeper into Vander's mind. The familiar landscape unfolded before you, but something new caught your attention - a pulsing thread of foreign feeling, steady and persistent.

Your curiosity sparked and you followed it, weaving through the intricate network of thoughts and emotions until you brushed against something unexpected - Viktor's presence. You hadn’t come into contact with him while buried deep in Vander’s psyche - as much as you had wanted to. This wasn’t about you and Viktor, this was about Vander. Yet you’d spent so much time moving within Vander’s emotions, wadding through his baser instincts, that they had started to rub off on you, and your ability to catch yourself before pursuing your desires was waning.

His essence was cool and precise, like the edge of a finely honed blade. But there, nestled at its core, was a swirling knot of guilt. It throbbed with a dull, aching constancy, weighing down Viktor's spirit like an anchor.

Pulling yourself towards it, you cradled the knot of guilt in your arms, finding it surprisingly heavy for something intangible. It pulsed against your chest, a living thing made of regret and sorrow. You curled around it, assuming a fetal position on the edge of Vander's mind, feeling the raw emotion seep into your core.

"Viktor," you whispered, your voice echoing through the mental landscape, "what is this?"

You sensed his spirit recoil, like a wounded animal shrinking from a helping hand. The cool precision of his essence wavered, uncertainty bleeding through. Viktor's spirit drifted closer, then further away, indecisive. You longed to reach out, to offer comfort, but the gulf between you felt insurmountable. Instead, you hugged the ball of guilt tighter, as if by shouldering Viktor's burden you could somehow ease his pain.

Slowly, reluctantly, you extricated yourself from Vander's mind. The physical world rushed back, a cacophony of sensations after the ethereal landscape you'd been navigating. You blinked, adjusting to the dim light of the greenhouse.

Vander lay on the ground, his massive form twitching slightly. His ears flicked irritably, the only outward sign that he was aware of your presence. You watched him for a moment, wondering how such a turbulent inner world could be contained in a seemingly peaceful exterior.

Viktor withdrew from Vander's mind with a sharp intake of breath, his multi-coloured eyes snapping open. He stared at you, his face carefully blank, but you could see the tension in the tightness of his jaw, the rigidness of his hands as he clasped them in his lap.

You stood cautiously, your legs wobbly from hours of sitting motionless. The small greenhouse felt thick and oppressive after the vast expanse of Vander's mind. Sweat collected on your forehead, and you wiped it away with a shaky hand. Viktor's gaze never wavered, following your every movement with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

You motioned for him to follow, not trusting yourself to speak. Your feet carried you deeper into the greenhouse, past rows of shimmering plants and budding flowers.

At last, you reached the bench tucked away in the furthest corner. You sat, patting the space beside you. Viktor hesitated, his body language screaming discomfort. After a long moment, he lowered himself onto the bench, perching on the edge as if ready to bolt at any second.

You tried not to think about the last time you'd sat here together, when playful banter had given way to heated touches and breathless sighs. The memory of his lips on your skin, his hands exploring every curve, almost derailing your thoughts. You shoved it aside, focusing on the tense line of Viktor's shoulders, the way his fingers drummed an anxious rhythm on his thigh.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the conversation ahead.

"Viktor," you began, your voice pitched low, "I felt something in there. Something that wasn't Vander's." You paused, searching for the right words. "It was you. Your guilt. It's eating you alive, isn't it?"

Panic flashed in his eyes before he schooled his gaze back into careful neutrality. "I don't know what you mean," he said, but his voice lacked conviction.

He had always been rather obstinate about accepting help, but you hadn’t let that stop you from offering it before. You reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing your hand on his arm. "It's okay," you said. "You can talk to me. You’ve been there for me so many times, let me be here for you."

You watched as emotions warred across his face - fear, shame, longing. He was silent for several beats before he found his voice. "It's Sky," he admitted, his voice cracking. "I see her whenever I am…working." He laughed bitterly. "I know it's not truly her. It can't be. But…"

"But it feels real," you finished for him, well acquainted with how disorienting it can be to be unable to banish a vision you knew to be false.

Viktor nodded, his shoulders slumping. "She's a manifestation of my guilt. My failure. I should have protected her. I should not have been so reckless.”

You squeezed his arm gently, cutting off his spiral of self-recrimination. "You didn’t know that she’d come to the lab so late."

He shook his head vehemently. "You don't understand. If I had been more careful, if I had thought it through—"

“I don’t understand?” You hadn’t meant to cut him off, but you simply couldn’t get past those first three words. “Out of everyone else in this entire world, I may be the only other one who does understand.”

Viktor's eyes widened and he opened his mouth, then closed it again, words failing him. You watched as he struggled, his usual eloquence deserting him in the face of his own oversight.

"I…you're right," he managed. "I apologize. That was incredibly thoughtless of me."

The greenhouse fell silent, save for the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant hum of life outside. A bead of condensation rolled down a nearby leaf, catching the light and scattering it in a tiny rainbow. You focused on it, gathering your thoughts.

"It's okay," you said at last, your voice soft but steady. You turned to face Viktor fully, taking in the lines of exhaustion corroding his features, the way his shoulders hunched as if pressed beneath a mountain. "But you know you aren't alone in this, right? I miss her too."

The words hung in between you, fragile as spun glass. Viktor closed his eyes, his expression twisting with grief so raw it made your heart ache.

You reached out, your fingers intertwining with his. "Sky was like starlight. Brilliant and beautiful and gone too soon. But her light touched so many of us. We all carry a piece of her."

And above all else, you knew those words to be true, felt them resound in your soul.

"I’m afraid I did not know her as well as I should have. Will you tell me?" he asked, barely audible. "Tell me what you remember?"

Talking about Sky came as easily as rain did from heavy clouds - though it did not stop your heart from aching. You spoke of Sky's laughter, how it would bubble up from deep inside her, infectious and bright. You recalled the way she'd furrow her brow when concentrating, her tongue poking out just slightly. You described the feeling of her hugs, fierce and warm, as if she could pour all her love into you through that simple gesture.

As you talked, the tension slowly bled from Viktor's frame. His grip on your hand loosened, though he didn't let go. His forehead smoothed out, and his breathing evened. You could almost see the weight lifting from his shoulders, shared between the two of you now.

When your words finally ran dry, a comfortable silence settled over you both. The greenhouse had grown darker, the setting sun painting the glass walls in shades of orange and pink. A cool breeze whispered through the leaves, carrying the scent of night-blooming flowers. You could have sworn you smelled her perfume, floral and clean, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared.

A memory surfaced, sharp and clear. That first night after Viktor had awoken from his Hexcore-induced slumber, when you'd thought you were hallucinating Sky's ghostly form. Viktor had seen her too. You'd been so caught up in the nervousness of being unwell while navigating the Undercity streets, you'd almost forgotten about that strange, shared moment.

"Wait," you said, sitting up straighter. "When we were walking here after we’d left your childhood house, I saw Sky, and you said you could see her too. I’d almost forgotten it, but…" You trailed off, watching Viktor's face carefully.

His eyes widened in recognition. "I remember," he said softly. "I thought it was a side effect of the Hexcore. Or that I was going mad." He let out a shaky breath. "I still don’t entirely know what it was, if I’m being candid.”

“That thing you carry isn’t Sky, I can feel that much.”

“That’s a relief, I would not wish to imprison her in my mind.”

"It's not her,” you reaffirmed. “But maybe it's a part of her. Something she left behind." You paused, choosing your words carefully. "What if it's not just guilt manifesting? What if it's a gift?"

Viktor's forehead pinched, his thick eyebrows bunching up. "A gift? How could my failure be a gift?"

"Not your failure," you said, shaking your head. "Her legacy. Her drive to help others and make a difference. Maybe she left that with you to carry on."

Viktor was silent for a long moment, his gaze distant. When he spoke, his voice was thick and rough. "I never thought of it that way."

"You’re honouring her memory by helping others. That’s what she wanted above all else; for everyone to be given the tools they needed to thrive, to live peacefully and free from suffering." You leaned against him, wrapping your arm around his as you rested your head on his shoulder. “She’d be so proud of everything you’ve done.”

"She would be proud of you too," he said. "For all you've managed to overcome, the people you've helped."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words died on your lips as memories flooded your mind. Charlotte's joyful glow as she regaled you with tales of her daughter. Stillwater, where your shield had stood firm against the Vander’s attacks, saving those who’d have been shredded without it. And now Vander himself, his fractured psyche slowly knitting back together under your patient support.

“Yeah,” you smiled, small and bittersweet, “I guess she would be.”

Next Chapter

A/N: Missing my girl Sky :’(

Buckle up everyone, we are getting to the big stuff! Only 4 more chapters left...

[tired-truffle]

gosh been reading all your viktor fics and i just love how SOFT he is with mila. unseen to the naked eye he just hopes that she's proud of him

i imagine during sky's incident, he saw the ghost of anger and frustration on mila's face and boy did he want to cling on her and plead not to leave him cause he's so so sorry that he had to fulfill that vision

one of his biggest fears is her leaving him either by walking out or mila's magic eating her alive (did he ever had a nightmare of it 👀)

Thank you for reading 😊 ❤️ he’s really got a special soft side beneath all that sass, I wish we could have seen more of it on screen! (But that’s what fanfic is for, right? 😅)

And yes, that’s exactly what I was going for! His horror at realizing he made one of Mila’s biggest fears come true and now they both blame themselves. And that she’s angry but she knows it wasn’t on purpose and that he’s grieving too. They never got time to process it either, it’s just been one thing after another…oops 🥲

I would imagine he’s had a fair few nightmares of it. I think Viktor holds himself to such a high standard in everything that he doesn’t understand how she doesn’t see his faults - little does he know that she does and she loves them all ❤️

Maybe I will write a little drabble on this. Hmmmm…giving me ideas 😇

[tired-truffle]

Collage for my Viktorxfem!reader fic ‘Even the Gods Cry for Us’ which can be found here

[tired-truffle]

Inarticulation - Part 2

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

NSFW, 18+ content

Chapter Word Count: 3.2k

"you love him, don't you? him and his pale, long fingers tangled in your hair, running down your spine. him and his lips against your neck, your jaw, your chin. and in these empty halls, with him, religion shifts and turns and blurs. his mouth is your confessional, and you sin, you sin, you sin." - thewayiwrite

Part of the main fic 'Even the Gods Cry For Us' (set after chapter 12) but can be read as a standalone if you want.

Masterlist

You slung your legs over Viktor's lap, the kiss deepening as you sighed. His hand trailed up your bare leg, fingertips ghosting along your skin. The silky fabric of your skirt bunched around your thighs as he explored higher, his touch igniting sparks that had nothing to do with magic.

With surprising strength, Viktor pulled you fully onto his lap in one fluid motion. You gasped, breaking the kiss momentarily as you adjusted to the new position. His eyes met yours, their rainbow colouring getting darker with desire but still asking silent permission.

And you were more than willing to give it.

Need built in your core, a molten heat that spread through your body like wildfire. Your fingers tangled in Viktor's hair as you kissed him again, harder this time, pouring all your pent-up longing into the contact. His hands roamed your back, tracing the curve of your spine before settling on your waist, thumbs rubbing small circles on your hipbones.

“Viktor,” you placed a hand on his chest, removing your mouth from his taking all the strength you possessed, “we don’t have to do this.” 

His fingers trailed down your sides and over the swell of your ass. “We don’t,” he agreed, “but do you want to?” 

‘Yes’ was the obvious answer. Now that your hallucinations had lessened, more controlled with your new magic storage system, you felt well enough to be intimate with him. But there remained a problem that you refused to allow to go unaddressed. 

“Not if it isn’t something you can enjoy too.” You ran your fingers through his hair, almost shoulder length now, silver just starting to form at the tips.

“Why would I not enjoy the sight of you coming undone by my touch.” His hand tightened around your waist, and you swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. 

A deep blush spread from the tips of your ears and down your neck. You hadn’t expected him to be so forward about it, but then again he’d never shied away from you. “I don’t want you to give and get nothing in return.” 

Viktor clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “I would hardly call that nothing. I am, in fact, highly looking forward to it.” 

The sparks that had been floating around you wobbled, squealing as they became unsteady. Burying your face into the crook of his neck, you grumbled, “You know what I’m trying to say.” 

“Perhaps,” he said, pulling your hair back to place a soft kiss on your curved neck. “But I would like to hear you say it, to be certain.” 

You groaned your irritation, going limp in his arms. “Fine, if you must be difficult about it.” Splaying your hand over the lower planes of his stomach, covered by his robe, you took a moment to try to organize your thoughts. “I want to make you feel as good as you make me, but I don’t know how to do that given your current, uh, anatomy.” 

“Mm,” he considered this for a moment, letting you stew as you waited for his input. “I have a suggestion, if you are open to hearing it.” 

You perked up, scanning his face for any hint of playful deception. All you found was sincerity, and you nodded your assent. 

“Your magic is tied to your emotions,” he began, hands raising from your hips and settling on your ribcage, his thumbs resting beneath your breasts, tantalizing close. “Theoretically, if you are able to return my emotions, you could share your own with me and possibly even what you’re physically feeling.” 

Could you do that? When put so simply, it seemed easy, but your magic was anything but straightforward. 

“I guess I could try,” you offered, a tentative smile curving your lips. You hadn’t thought you’d ever be in the position to even broach this conversation, too unwell, too lost. But you’d figured yourself out - for the most part - and now you had a chance to be with Viktor in every way that you wanted to. 

He grinned, a kernel of mirth sparkling in his eyes. “You’re blushing,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes. “And you’re gorgeous. I fail to see how that changes anything.”

And before he could prepare a retort - or you could second guess yourself - you leaned in, pressing your lips to Viktor's with renewed fervour. As the kiss deepened, you focused on the warmth blooming in your chest, the tingling electricity jumping across your skin wherever he touched you. You imagined that warmth flowing out from you like honey, sweet and golden, enveloping Viktor in your desire.

You gasped as he cupped your breasts through the thin fabric of your top, thumbs brushing over sensitive peaks. Pleasure sparked through you like lightning, and you channelled that sensation into your magic, willing Viktor to feel the same.

His breath hitched, a low groan rumbling in his chest. "I can feel it," he murmured against your lips. "It's…exquisite."

Emboldened, you let your magic flow more freely as Viktor's skilled fingers made quick work of your top and bra. Cool air kissed your bare skin, raising goosebumps to the surface. But Viktor's touch was molten, leaving you feverish with want.

His lips trailed down your neck as his hands explored newly exposed flesh. You whimpered when he palmed your breasts, rolling sensitive nipples between his fingers. Euphoria bubbled up like a pot about to boil, and you projected that sensation outward, letting it wash over Viktor as well.

He shuddered, grip tightening on your hips. "Miláčku," he breathed, voice rough with need. "You're incredible."

Your head fell back as Viktor's fingers trailed lower, teasing along the inside of your thighs. Anticipation coiled in your belly, tight as a spring ready to unwind. You poured that tension into your magic, letting Viktor feel how desperately you ached for his touch.

When his fingers slipped beneath your underwear and finally brushed against your most sensitive spot, twin moans filled the air. The dual sensations - your own pleasure mixed with the echo of Viktor's - were almost overwhelming. It felt like standing in the eye of a storm, lightning crackling all around as rain pelted your skin.

You clung to Viktor, trembling as he slowly worked you higher. With each caress, you fed your rising pleasure back to him through your magic.

You gasped as your magic surged, caught in a whirlwind of heady, all-consuming need. Viktor groaned into your shoulder, his fingers never ceasing their relentless circles around your clit. You pulled back, wanting to see his face, to drink in every flicker of pleasure that crossed his sharp features.

His pupils were blown wide, muted rainbow irises nearly swallowed by inky black. His breathing came in ragged pants, chest heaving against you. A sly grin spread across your face as an idea took root. You reached for the sparks floating lazily around you, drawing their energy back into yourself. The magic thrummed through your veins, electric and alive.

With a deep breath, you channelled that power directly into Viktor. His reaction was immediate and intense. He gasped, head thrown back as his hips bucked up into yours. The motion ground his fingers harder against you, sending shockwaves radiating outward.

You felt like a live wire, sparking and sizzling with each touch. Every brush of skin on skin sent jolts of magic arcing between you. Viktor's emotions flowed into you - wonder, desire, love - a blend that left you dizzy and breathless.

You poured your own feelings back into him, letting him feel the depth of your affection, the burning need that flared within you. It was like diving into a bottomless pool, cool water enveloping you as you sank deeper and deeper. But instead of drowning, you felt buoyant, floating along the rapids.

With a growl that sent shivers down your spine, Viktor slipped a finger inside you. You gasped, arching into him, desperate need blooming within you like flowers in spring. "More," you begged, breathy and desperate. His responding grin was wicked as he added a second finger, stretching you deliciously and making you whine. His thumb found your clit, circling with maddening precision.

Ecstasy built within you like a tidal wave, threatening to crash over you at any moment. You clung to Viktor, quivering as he picked up the pace, the indecent, wet sounds of his fingers covered in your juices, fucking you harder filled your ears. You bit your lip, trying to hold on, but when he angled himself just right, the ridges of his mechanical fingers hit that perfect spot, and you lost yourself.

Your release hit you, sudden and all-consuming. You cried out, burying your face in Viktor's neck as waves of bliss crashed over you. Your magic surged, wrapping you both in everything you were feeling. For a moment, you felt weightless, as if you were floating among the stars.

As the aftershocks faded, you slumped bonelessly against Viktor's chest. He held you close, pressing soft kisses to your hair. But his fingers remained inside you, and when he wiggled them slightly, you whined at the overstimulation.

"Sensitive?" he murmured, amusement colouring his tone. You nodded weakly against his shoulder, still catching your breath.

Viktor slowly withdrew his fingers, and you shivered at the loss. He brought them to his lips, licking them clean with a thoughtful hum. Heat bloomed in your cheeks as you watched, arousal stirring anew despite your recent climax.

Oh, Gods, what this man could do to you.

"Take these off," Viktor said, gesturing to your underwear and skirt.

The cool air kissed your heated skin as you stood, legs slightly unsteady. Viktor's gaze never left you as you slowly shimmied out of your skirt, letting the fabric pool at your feet. Your fingers hooked into the waistband of your underwear, hesitating for just a moment before sliding them down your thighs.

A deep blush bloomed across your cheeks, but you refused to look away. Viktor's eyes roamed your body, drinking in every curve and mark. His expression was one of reverence, as if he were beholding a priceless work of art.

Just as you were about to step forward, Viktor's hand shot out, fingers encircling your wrist. With a gentle tug, he pulled you closer and twirled you around, guiding you to sit between his legs on the bench.

His hands guided you, spreading your legs so your heels rested on either side of his knees. The position left you exposed, vulnerable, and you trusted him completely.

Viktor's chest pressed against your back, solid and warm, no longer cold as it usually was, your magic having heated it. His breath ghosted over your ear as he whispered, "Relax, lásko. Allow me to take care of you."

His hands skimmed up your sides, soft touches that had you exhaling a shuddering breath. When he cupped your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples, a keening whine escaped your lips, your body still hypersensitive.

You focused on that sensation, on the waves of bliss radiating outward from every point of contact. Your magic flowed, carrying those feelings to Viktor. A sharp inhale behind you told you he felt it too.

One hand trailed lower, chasing the planes of your stomach with his fingers before dipping between your thighs. At the first brush against your oversensitive clit, your hips jerked, a gasp tearing from your throat. Viktor's other arm wrapped around your waist, holding you steady as your head fell back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering closed as you grounded yourself.

You tilted your head, offering your neck to Viktor's hungry mouth. His lips found the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder, nipping gently and soothing the sting with his tongue.

"So beautiful,” his teeth found your earlobe, pulling it lightly between his teeth. “Spread out and eager for me."

You whimpered, needy and desperate, your hips shifting restlessly as Viktor paused his circling of your clit.

"Touch yourself for me," Viktor commanded softly. "I wish to see what you enjoy."

Heat bloomed on your cheeks, a blend of arousal and shyness. In all other circumstances, you despised being told what to do, but here, in Viktor’s arms, you found yourself wanting him to unravel you one command at a time. You wanted him to see your eagerness for him, but still, you hesitated, unused to being so exposed.

"It's alright." Viktor pressed a soft kiss behind your ear. "Show me what you do when you're alone."

That was easy enough to follow, especially when given such gentle encouragement. Slowly, you brought your hand down, brushing tentatively against your clit. The touch sent sparks skittering across your skin.

Viktor's fingers teased at your entrance, gathering the wetness there before slowly pushing inside. You gasped, your back arching as he filled you.

"That's it," he praised, pumping his fingers in a steady rhythm. "You're doing so well."

Viktor's free hand moved to your breast, kneading the soft flesh as his thumb circled your nipple. His fingers inside you and his hand on your chest had you gasping, your own fingers faltering in their movements against your clit.

"Don't stop," Viktor murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "I want to feel everything you're feeling."

You nodded, redoubling your efforts as you sent it all back through your magical connection. Viktor groaned, his hips shifting. His fingers curled inside you, hitting a spot that made you see stars.

Moans spilled from your lips, echoing in the greenhouse. The plants around you seemed to lean in, as if drawn by the magic pulsing between you and Viktor. Vines flourished, flowers turned to face you, the air thick with the scent of pollen and the headiness of your arousal.

You were trembling, teetering on the edge of release. Viktor's touch was relentless, stoking the fire within you higher and higher. Your magic swirled around you both, sparks dancing in the air like fireflies.

"Viktor," you gasped, voice breaking on his name. "I'm so close, I-"

"I know," he said, placing a kiss on your temple. "I can feel it. You're radiant, Milá. Let go for me."

His words, combined with a particularly clever twist of his fingers, sent you careening over the edge. Viktor's name tore from your lips, echoing through the greenhouse as your body shook and trembled. Your magic exploded outward, a glittering display of sparks and shimmering light that danced across the leaves and petals surrounding you.

Behind you, Viktor shuddered violently, his arm tightening around your waist as he buried his face in your hair. A guttural groan rumbled through his chest, the vibrations travelling through your joined bodies. Though he had no physical release, you felt his euphoria through your magical connection, leaving you both spent.

You slumped back against him, weak and exhausted, though thoroughly sated. Your arms fell limply to your sides and when Viktor slowly withdrew his fingers, you whined at the loss, your oversensitive walls clenching around nothing.

Soft kisses peppered your neck and shoulders as Viktor's hands stroked soothing patterns across your skin. You hummed contentedly, tilting your head to give him better access.

Around you, the plants seemed to pulse with renewed vitality. Vines curled closer, leaves unfurled, and flower buds bloomed before your eyes. It was as if your magical release had invigorated the entire greenhouse, infusing it with life and growth.

You blinked lazily, watching sparks drift through the air like glowing bumblebees. They settled on nearby petals, causing the flowers to glow softly before fading back to normal. Surrounded by Viktor and the thrumming life of the greenhouse, you felt more at ease than you had in months.

"You are perfect, Milá,” Viktor said. “I could spend hours learning every way to make you fall apart."

His praise washed over you like warm honey, settling deep in your bones.

You huffed out a laugh, finally finding your voice. "I'm not sure I'd survive that."

"Oh, I think you're stronger than you realize," he replied, trailing his fingers along your outer thighs. "But perhaps we should save further exploration for somewhere more comfortable than a greenhouse bench."

You nodded, reluctantly sliding off his lap to stand on shaky legs. Viktor steadied you with a hand on your waist, rising gracefully beside you. As you gathered your discarded clothing, a thought occurred to you.

"Viktor," you began hesitantly, "did you…finish?"

He pulled you close, your chest flush with his as you held your clothes in your hands. "In a manner of speaking. Your magic allowed me to experience your pleasure as my own. It was…intense."

You blushed, both pleased and a little embarrassed. "Oh. Good. I mean, I'm glad it worked."

"More than worked," Viktor assured you, “It was transcendent."

His words sent a warm glow through you, chasing away any lingering doubts. You nestled closer, breathing in his familiar scent of pine and steel, now mingled with the earthy aroma of the greenhouse.

"We should probably head back," you said reluctantly. "Before Charlotte comes looking for us or something."

Viktor chuckled, the sound rumbling pleasantly against your cheek. "Ah yes, we wouldn't want to scandalize your self-appointed chaperone."

“Honestly I’m more worried that she wouldn’t be scandalized.” You removed yourself from his grasp as you pulled on your clothes. Viktor's eyes followed your movements, a soft smile playing on his lips.

"I wouldn't put it past her to give us pointers," you said with a grimace. "She's not shy about that sort of thing."

Viktor's eyebrows shot up. "Is that so? Perhaps I should consult her for advice."

"Don't you dare," you warned, jabbing a finger at his chest. "I'd never be able to look her in the eyes again."

He caught your hand, bringing it to his lips. "As you wish. Your secrets are safe with me."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't suppress your smile. As you finished dressing, Viktor helped smooth down your hair, his fingers gentle as they combed through the tangles, careful to avoid the still-healing wound.

“I fear we may have…overstimulated the plants somewhat." Viktor frowned as he looked around the room.

You followed his gaze, taking in the vibrant, almost glowing foliage surrounding you. Flowers that had been mere buds when you entered were now in full, resplendent bloom. Vines had crept further along their trellises, and even the air felt more alive, crackling faintly with residual magic.

"Oops?" you offered with a sheepish grin.

Viktor laughed, the sound rich and hearty. "We'll simply have to be more, ah, restrained in the future."

"Restrained, huh?" You quirked an eyebrow at him, a mischievous glint in your eye. "That could be interesting."

His gaze darkened at your implication, and for a moment you thought he might sweep you back into his arms and toss you into the dirt, ready to take you then and there. But he simply shook his head, smiling softly. "Come, let's get you back before I'm tempted to take you up on that suggestion."

Hand in hand, you made your way out of the greenhouse, pausing only to ensure you both looked presentable. As you stepped into the cool night air, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you. For the first time in what felt like forever, you were truly at peace.

Next Chapter

A/N: No dick, no problem, ya know what I mean? No Hexstrap, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!

[tired-truffle]

Even the Gods Cry For Us

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 4.6k

Part 12/17

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

"You love him despite the burden of Atlas resting on his shoulders, and he loves you despite the death still clinging to your lips, and the blood drying at its corners. What a pair you make." - The greatest lovers in hell // L.H.Z

Masterlist

Husk greeted you at the entrance, surprise in the raise of his brows as he realized who approached so late at night. You’d waved, giving him a small smile, before slipping past him and into the quiet commune. Darkness had descended, and most had gone to bed as you traversed through the sleepy streets on your way towards your room. 

The sharp trill of anxiety flickered at the back of your throat, the floating sparks pulsing sporadically. How were you supposed to explain this to Viktor? It wasn’t like he was your minder, but disappearing with nothing more than a note hadn’t been the kindest option. You also hadn’t been in your right mind, to be fair, but that didn’t make it feel any better. 

You’d hoped to sneak into the safety of your room without incident, but as you entered the spherical building, you were only given seconds to prepare before you were swept into awaiting arms, pulled tight against soft robes and the hard planes of Viktor’s chest. Pine and a metallic tang surrounded you, lulling you into a state of calm as you leaned against him, using the last of your strength to keep your knees from buckling. 

His breath tickled the top of your head as he buried his face in your hair, sighing like years of strife had rolled off his shoulders. Had he always been that tall, or had the enhancements added height? 

“Please, do not do that again, miláčku.” Muffled as his words were, you didn’t miss the slight waver in his voice.

“I won’t,” you said, equally as muffled. 

With great effort, Viktor pulled himself away, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly as he held you at arm's length. His eyes were bloodshot and swimming with concern for you, terrified for your safety. Guilt reared its ugly head, making your gut roil and your palms clammy. Your sparks migrated slowly towards him, buzzing happily as they bobbed. 

“Are you angry with me?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

His nostrils flared and he tightened his grip on your shoulders. “Furious,” he said and you blanched, unsure of how to respond other than to get on your knees and beg his forgiveness. But this was Viktor and he had no interest in grovelling. “Though I am grateful to see you returned more than anything else. I…worried I’d lost you. Whatever anger I feel will fade, but I will never feel anything other than relieved that you have returned home.”

You sucked both lips between your teeth, gaze trained on the floor. An ‘I’m sorry’ wouldn’t cut it so you didn’t say it - nor would it be entirely sincere. You’d accomplished what you’d set out to do, and while the way you’d gone about it had been incredibly foolish and dangerous, at least it had worked.

“Something is…” he tilted his head to the side, “different about you.”

“Nothing bad.” You placed your hand on his elbow, slowly easing it from its locked position. Your gaze flickered to the sparks, and Viktor followed, understanding dawning across his features. 

Holding out a hand, a spark floated down to perch on his palm, trilling as it nuzzled against him. “How did you do this?” he asked, the light blue glow reflecting in his iridescent eyes. 

You grimaced, chuckling nervously as he raised an eyebrow. “That’s a great question,” you shuffled your feet, “and I’d be more than happy to fill you in, but maybe not right now? I’d like to lie down, it’s been…taxing.” 

His expression softened and he nodded. “Of course,” he breathed, placing the spark gently on your shoulder, his fingertips trailing down your cheek. Whatever words or actions he had been about to share were abruptly cut off by the sound of angry footsteps approaching from behind you, accompanied by Charlotte's sharp voice ringing out in barely restrained fury. 

“Disappearing with only a vague note, gone for an entire day, and showing up without so much as a hello!” Your shoulders tensed, curling inwards like a child being reprimanded by a school teacher. The kernel of mirth in Viktor’s eyes had you scowling at him. 

You ducked your head and turned, facing Charlotte as she made her way towards the building, stomping as she did so, thin lips twisted into a glower. 

“You could have been dead for all we knew!” she continued at the same volume. “Not even a hint as to where you were or what you were doing, scaring me within an inch of my life, what were you thinking?” 

“Charlotte—“ you tried, your palms instinctively rising in a placating gesture, but she brushed them away with a sharp slap. Before you could react, she wrapped her arms around you in a fiercely tight hug, pulling you close and squeezing with enough force to puff the air from your lungs.

Shocked into stillness, your hands hovered over her, hesitating until Charlotte grumbled, “Don’t just stand there, you silly girl, hug me back already.” 

With a breathy laugh, you did as instructed, tucking the older woman in against you. 

When she released you from her iron grip, her weathered hands cupped your face as she examined you closely. Her eyes widened as she took in the faint bruises and scrapes that marred your skin, remnants of your encounter with the enforcers. Thankfully, she couldn’t see the blood at the back of your head and crusted in your hair, or what was sure to be a nasty laceration. Whoever had hit you hadn’t pulled their swing.

"What happened to you?" she demanded, her tone softening with concern.

You winced, both from the memory and the ache that lingered. "It's a long story," you said wearily. "I promise I'll explain everything tomorrow, but I don’t think I have the brain power for it right now."

Charlotte frowned, but she nodded reluctantly. "Alright, but don't think you're getting out of this conversation. I expect a full explanation in the morning, young lady."

As she turned to leave, Charlotte shot Viktor a pointed look. "Make sure she gets some proper rest, you hear me?"

Viktor nodded solemnly, though that glimmer of mirth remained. "Of course, Charlotte. You have my word."

With a final huff, Charlotte departed, her footsteps fading into the night. You let out a long exhale, feeling the tension slowly seep from your shoulders. Viktor's hand found yours, his long fingers interlacing with your own.

"Come," he said softly, tugging you along with him.

Together, you made your way to the bedroom. The bed, piled high with mismatched blankets and pillows, called to you like a lighthouse beacon in the dark. You sank onto the edge, sighing as the soft mattress cradled your aching body.

Viktor knelt before you, searching your face intently. His fingers ghosted over the marks left by the enforcers and though he barely touched them, the memory alone made you wince. "Let me tend to these," he said, rising to fetch a first aid kit.

You nodded, too exhausted to protest. Viktor moved with quiet efficiency, gathering supplies and returning to kneel before you.

His touch was feather-light as he cleaned each scrape and bruise, the cool cloth soothing against your heated skin. You watched him, mesmerized by the gentle furrow of his brow, the way his lips pressed together in concentration. The sparks that had been hovering around you settled on his shoulders, their soft blue light complimenting his pale skin.

He’d insisted that having a first aid kit would come in handy, given your penchant for injury and his inability to use his powers to heal you. You hadn’t argued, fully aware of your own shortcomings, and also knowing that it would give him a sense of comfort - that even though your Shimmer blocked any attempts at using Hexcore fuelled healing methods, he could still do something to care for your wounds.

When he finished, Viktor's hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. His eyes met yours, filled with concern, relief, and something deeper that made your heart skip a beat - longing and love, perhaps.

Viktor's hand moved to cup the back of your head, but you flinched away with a sharp "Ouch!" His eyes widened in alarm, fingers hovering uncertainly near your hair.

"Why didn't you tell me you were injured there?" he asked, voice tight with worry.

You grimaced, avoiding his gaze. "I didn't want to stress you out further. I think I’ve done enough of that for one day. Look, you’re already going grey.” Pinching the ends of his hair in between your fingers, you tried for a joke meant to lighten the mood, but it fell flat.

He made a soft "tch" sound, shaking his head. "Miláčku, your well-being is my primary concern. Come, let me examine it properly."

Viktor gently took your hand, leading you to the wash basin in the corner. With practiced movements, he pumped water into the bowl and activated the small heating element beneath it. Steam began to rise from the surface as the water warmed.

"Lean forward," he instructed gently, one hand on your back to steady you as you bent over the basin. Viktor's fingers were impossibly gentle as they parted your hair, carefully examining the wound hidden beneath. You heard his sharp intake of breath and winced, imagining how it must look.

Warm water trickled over your scalp as Viktor began to rinse away the dried blood, the basin slowly becoming tinged pink. His touch was methodical yet tender, each movement calculated to cause you as little discomfort as possible.

"It doesn't appear to need stitches," he murmured, more to himself than to you. "But we'll need to keep it clean to prevent infection."

You hummed in acknowledgment, eyes closed as you focused on the soothing sensation of his fingers massaging your scalp. The sparks that had been hovering nearby drifted closer, their soft blue light reflecting off the water's surface.

When he finished rinsing, Viktor patted your hair dry with a small towel. You straightened, blinking away the droplets that clung to your eyelashes. He cupped your face in his hands, thumbs brushing over your cheekbones as he studied you intently.

"Wait here," he said, releasing you to rummage through the first aid supplies once more. He returned with a small jar of antibacterial cream, unscrewing the lid as he approached.

Viktor's breath was warm against your neck as he leaned in close behind you, carefully applying the cream to the wound. You shivered, not entirely from the coolness of the ointment.

"There," he said softly, his lips nearly brushing your ear. "That should help prevent any infection." His hands lingered on your shoulders, and you could feel the tension thrumming through him - the desire to pull you close warring with his need to be gentle, to avoid causing you further pain.

You turned to face him, your noses nearly touching. "Thank you," you whispered.

Viktor's eyes flickered to your mouth, his lips parting as he leaned in. The kiss was soft, chaste, a gentle press of his lips against yours that sent heat cascading through your body. It was over too soon, leaving you yearning for more, but Viktor pulled away with a small smile.

“You need rest," he said, and you couldn’t agree more.

With gentle hands, Viktor helped you lie back on the bed, tucking the blankets around you. The mattress dipped as he sat beside you, his fingers brushing over your damp hair - careful to avoid the injury - in a soothing gesture. The sparks settled on the pillows around your head, their soft trills a lullaby in the quiet room.

“I don’t know how Charlotte sniffed me out like a hunting dog,” you said into the dark, “but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Ah, yes,” Viktor said, gaze fixed on the uppermost corner of the ceiling. “It was less sniffing and more the concern that if I did not tell her of your arrival, I would lose my head.” 

“You told her?” You crinkled your nose, narrowing your eyes at him. “When did you have time to do that?” 

His gaze flickered back to you, his lips scrunched and pulled to the side. “Telepathically, it’s simple to do while multitasking.” 

Exhausted barely covered what you were feeling, but you were sure your ears hadn’t deceived you. 

“Is that like…what you do when you, uh, borrow their bodies?” 

He tilted his head back and forth, considering. “Eh, in a way. I’m connected to all those I’ve healed, and whether it is borrowing their bodies, as you put it, or communicating, it all stems from that same connection.” 

“Have you ever…” you pressed your lips into a thin line. “Have you ever possessed Charlotte?”

“It’s not possession,” he said with a wry curve to his lips. 

You huffed, waving your hand. “You know what I mean.”

Regarding you for a long moment, he said, “Why do you ask?”

“I’m just…” you sighed, shaking your head. “I’m trying to understand. It’s such a foreign concept, and maybe I’ll never truly get it, but I’d like to try. I want to know what you’re experiencing if you want to share it.” 

For a moment, so brief you almost missed it, his eyes solidified into amber, startling in its intensity. And then it was gone like mist in the early morning sun, lost among the myriad of colours swirling in his irises. 

“I would like that.”

When Viktor told you that morning that he had a surprise he wanted to show you, curiosity had taken hold, only to be strangled when he told you it would have to wait until the evening. 

You’d spent the day following Charlotte around, the woman unwilling to let you out of her sight. Now that your magic was more manageable, you were no longer a threat to those around you. And while you still caught glimpses of those eerie metal masks on the members of the commune, it never lasted long, and with a calm mind, you were able to push past it. The sense of unease that had dogged your steps prickled at the edge of your awareness, but did not tug and claw at your skin like fishing hooks pulling on their prize. 

While you’d been preoccupied with your unravelling mind, Viktor had been able to increase his capacity for healing, and rarely was there ever a newcomer who was not immediately seen. They no longer needed your pain relief, and Charlotte was determined to find another task for you - and introduce you to the new members. 

Serenity exuded from each person Charlotte greeted, like they knew a sort of peace that only existed in one’s dreams. Yet, when you came close, a glimmer of buoyancy would return to their pleasant but placid gazes. 

Strange, but you didn’t have time to examine it thoroughly as Charlotte swept you from person to person. She had you trying all sorts of different occupations, metalwork, knitting, cooking, but if you had any skill at all, your magic flares - as small as they may be - ruined the delicate craft. 

At the end of the day, you had nothing but sore shoulders to show for all your hard work, and a slightly exasperated Charlotte. 

“At least take this,” she’d said, handing you neatly folded fabric. You’d accepted, running your hands over the soft material as you unfurled it. 

A simple off-white, pleated skirt, made by her own hands. A gift, she’d told you, for any special occasions. Her wink had been enough to bring a blush to your cheeks, and she’d given you no time to recover as she shooed you into an unoccupied tent to try it on. 

It flowed smoothly over your thighs, starting beneath your belly button and coming to rest just below your knees. While you’d taken to covering your scars out of fear of other’s reactions - the paler and patchy flesh another reminder of the night you’d almost lost everything - you couldn’t resist how nice it felt to have the fresh air hit your skin. 

As evening fell, you made your way back to the spherical building, the skirt swishing pleasantly around your legs. The commune had quieted, the bustling activity of the day giving way to a peaceful hush.

You entered the building, expecting to find Viktor waiting for you. Instead, you were greeted by an unexpected sight that had you pulling up short.

Viktor was suspended, floating in midair, his body wreathed in a web of wires and cables. They swam languidly around him like luminous vines, glowing with a distorted blue and pink light. His eyes were closed, face set in deep concentration, and he seemed oblivious to your presence - though you doubted that was the case.

"Viktor?" you called out. "What are you doing?"

His eyes fluttered open, iridescent irises focusing on you. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Working," he replied simply, as if floating in a swirl of wires was the most natural thing in the world.

You rolled your eyes, a fond smile spread across your face. "I can see that. Care to elaborate?"

Viktor's forehead pinched slightly, trying to find the right words. "I'm…integrating with the building's systems. Expanding my connection to the commune."

You nodded, pretending to understand even though you were still utterly bewildered. The sparks seemed drawn to Viktor, floating lazily towards him before bouncing off an invisible barrier.

"How long will this, uh, work take?" you asked, glancing around for somewhere to sit.

Viktor's eyes glazed over for a moment, as if consulting some internal clock. "A while yet. You're welcome to stay, if you'd like."

"I'll wait," you said, sliding down the wall to sit. "After all, you promised me a surprise."

Viktor's smile widened slightly before his eyes drifted closed again, his focus returning to whatever mysterious task he was performing.

You leaned back, and as you waited, you let your mind wander. So much had changed in such a short time, and yet, sitting there in that strange room, you felt an unexpected sense of peace. You had your magic under control, Viktor was alive and well, and you had a community that accepted you for who you were. If only you could find out what happened to that little girl from the rally too, then you may be able to relax fully.

Though your peace only lasted so long, and after a few hours of sitting there, you’d begun to reach your limit. Your backside ached from the hard ground and your impatience had reached new levels, your irritation spiking with it.

“The suspense is killing me,” you groaned, flopping your arms dramatically. 

“All in good time, Milá.” Viktor grinned impishly and you glared at him. He was enjoying this, revenge for your sudden departure. It was the least that you deserved, but that didn’t mean you had to like it. 

You grumbled under your breath, shifting uncomfortably on the hard floor. "A little hint wouldn't kill you, you know."

Viktor's eyes crinkled at the corners, but he remained suspended in his glowing wires. "Patience is a virtue."

"So is mercy." You scowled, but settled back against the wall, resigning yourself to wait.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the wires began to retract. Viktor descended slowly, his feet touching the ground with a gentle grace. He stretched, working out the stiffness in his muscles, before turning to you.

"Ready?" he asked, extending his hand.

You took it, allowing him to pull you to your feet. "I've been ready for hours," you said dryly, but couldn't keep the excitement from sparkling in your eyes.

Viktor led you out of the building and into the night. The commune was quiet, most of its inhabitants asleep.

As you rounded a corner, your breath caught in your throat. Before you stood a structure that seemed to glow in the moonlight - a greenhouse made of glass and metal. Its crystalline windows reflected the stars, creating a shimmering, ethereal effect.

Viktor squeezed your hand gently. "Shall we?"

He guided you to the entrance, pushing open a delicate glass door. As you stepped inside, the warm and humid air hit you, balmy like a beach vacation. Lush foliage filled every corner, from delicate magnolias to towering palms. Vines climbed up trellises, their flowers glowing faintly in the dim light. Everywhere you looked, there was life.

“Viktor, this is beautiful,” you said, eyes wide with awe. “Did you do this?” 

He shrugged. “I had help.” 

“Modest, as always.” Locking your arm around his, you pulled him further in.

Exotic orchids hung from the ceiling, their petals a riot of colours - vibrant purples, fiery oranges, and deep crimsons. Their heady perfume mingled with the earthy scent of moss and rich soil. To your left, a small stream trickled over smooth river rocks, feeding into a pond where lily pads floated lazily on the surface. And at the end of it all, tucked in the back behind a monstrous fern, sat a secluded bench, perfect for admiring the scenery.

“Was there a reason you made all this or was it just for fun?” A spark drifted from your pocket, heading lazily towards a budding flower like a strangely coloured bumble bee. 

With a gentle nudge, he turned you to face him, lithe fingers drawing little circles across your palm. “There is so much of this commune I would like to share with you, but until you stabilized your magic, I did not see a way how.” 

Head bowed, he turned your hand over, exposing your inner wrist and the faint pink veins visible beneath. “I couldn’t remove the Shimmer that I put there, and you were suffering. I could help all these people, except for the one that I love most.” 

“We talked about this.” Hooking your finger beneath his chin, you brought his gaze up to meet yours. “I don’t expect or need you to solve this.” 

He smiled, melancholy falling across his sharp features like droplets of rain. “I remember, but I couldn’t do nothing. I wanted you to have a place you could go to outside of our room, somewhere you could feel safe and be alone. I thought plants may do the trick.” 

Your jaw slackened, incredulousness to the wide set of your eyes. “You built this for me?”

“That is what I said, isn’t it?” He was teasing you now, but you barely registered it.

Launching yourself into his arms, you kissed him fiercely, pressing all your gratitude and affection into the slant of your lips against his. Viktor stumbled back a few steps step, caught off guard, but he quickly regained his balance, hands instinctively reaching out to steady you.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, Viktor stared at you, his usually pale cheeks flushed a light pink.

"I take it you like the greenhouse," he said, his voice slightly husky.

“You built this place so I’d have somewhere to lose my mind in peace?” You held his face in your hands, the sparks circling around you both like a halo. “That sounds like something only a besotted fool would do.” 

He laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest and into yours, a pleasant vibration that had goosebumps rising along your arms. “Guilty as charged.” 

Viktor leaned in, his lips meeting yours once more. This kiss was different from the first - softer, slower, like you had all the time in the world. His hands cradled your cheeks, thumbs brushing gently across your skin as he deepened the kiss. You melted into him, your fingers tangling in the soft fabric of his robes.

But with reluctance, he pulled back.

“There is something else I should share with you. Though it is not necessarily as exciting of a reveal.” He pressed his lips into a flat line and tugged you towards the secluded bench. 

Sitting beside him, you waited patiently as he gathered his thoughts, his neck bent and head ducked. He held your hands in his, resting on his lap, his thumbs ghosting over the dexterous tendons. 

“I apologize for not telling you earlier, but it wasn’t until your disappearance that I knew for sure.” 

You cringed, guilt and worry churning in your gut like you’d swallowed a jug of acid. “A little ominous there, Viktor.” You chuckled warily. “Is everything okay?” 

He looked up at you then, lips parting as he took in the concerned tilt of your mouth and the tightness in your jaw. “It is now,” he said softly, his barely there smile settling your unease. 

Scooting closer, your hips pressed side-by-side, he said, “It would seem that when I’m not in your presence, my emotions are muted. It is difficult to explain. They are still there, but buried beneath a serenity that does not feel entirely my own.” 

Your forehead creased and you bit the inside of your cheek. “You think my magic, what, heightens your feelings?” 

“Your magic, or perhaps just you, it ‘s hard to say.” And perhaps sweeter than he realized, that he would even consider the notion that it was simply you that made him feel again. “Though it isn’t a heightening, it ‘s more like reversing the dampening that comes with my enhancements.” 

You didn’t love the sound of that, but you had no idea what to do about it - other than stay with him at all times, though not a practical solution. “Does it upset you?” 

“It is rather numbing, so no, it does not,” he answered plainly. 

“No, that’s not what I meant.” You squeezed his hands, struggling to find the words to express yourself. “Does me returning your feelings back to how they were bother you? I just,” you exhaled, shaking your head, “I know what it’s like for emotions to take over and be overwhelming, I don’t want you to have to suffer through that.” 

“Milá, I need you to listen to me very carefully,” Viktor spoke with such seriousness you found yourself nodding before you had fully processed what he’d said. “I am not suffering through loving you. You bring me more joy than I would have ever believed possible. I don’t simply need you, I want you.” 

You inhaled a sharp breath, your eyes stinging as you blinked back the tears. “Oh,” you laughed shakily, “is that all?” 

Bringing your hands to his lips and placing kisses across your fingers, he said, “No, but I do not have the vocabulary to express it.” 

Neither did you so you didn’t try, and instead, you kissed Viktor with reverence. Your lips moved against his with deliberate slowness, savouring each point of contact. The warmth of his breath mingled with yours as you traced the curve of his bottom lip with your tongue. Viktor's hands came up to cradle your face, his long fingers grasping the back of your neck as he pulled you closer.

You were the dawn breaking over a world shrouded in darkness, your light chasing away the shadows that had long haunted Viktor's existence. He was the moon, constant and mesmerizing, guiding you through the tumultuous night of your journey. Together, you created an eclipse, two celestial bodies woven together - your magic and his.

Your kisses were stardust, scattering across Viktor's skin and leaving constellations in their wake. His touch was gravity, anchoring you to that moment, that place, that feeling of belonging. You breathed each other in like oxygen, necessary and life-giving.

You were made for each other, and you would stop at nothing to show him exactly what he meant to you.

Smut Chapter

Next Chapter

A/N: Aaaaand we’re onto the second smut chapter! If you’d like to read it, it will be in the companion fic ‘Inarticulation’ (Part 2) by tomorrow at the latest - and I will add the link here when its been posted.

I hope you enjoyed their little date night <3 We are getting into the end game now!

[tired-truffle]

Even the Gods Cry For Us

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 6.3k

Part 11/17

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

Warning: Dream sequence involving dead body

Masterlist

Be back soon, stay calm. 

-M

You’d spent hours - had it been hours? You could no longer remember - thinking of what to write before you’d settled on the simple sentence. He’d written it to you when he’d gone to get medicine from Piltover, and now you’d written it to him as you left to seek an answer to your…predicament. 

You’d only gotten worse, every second spent in fear, your magic reacting accordingly. It was a small miracle that you hadn’t seriously injured anyone, but you knew you couldn’t stay locked in your room forever. You needed to regain yourself before your baser instincts consumed you completely. 

Heimerdinger had helped you the first time you’d needed it, had given you information on Motus Mages and provided you with a safe place to stay. He was a genius with centuries of knowledge, maybe he could find a way to tame your wild magic and bring it under control. Or, if there was no solution, he could construct a cage to contain you. Viktor would never resort to such measures, even if it was necessary, even if you begged him. But Heimerdinger was less emotionally involved and had always been pragmatic. He would see it as a mercy. Better to lock you away than put you down like a rabid dog, right?

The only problem was that you had no idea where he was. He’d disappeared when he’d been ousted from the council, and you haydn’t a single clue as to where to begin looking for him. Luckily, your visions did. Night after night they showed you; Heimerdinger surrounded by a group of small children as they eagerly displayed their homemade gadgets to his delighted surprise, Heimerdinger with a young dark-skinned boy, his hair styled in stark white dreads - concerned as they stared at a leaf splattered in a pastel rainbow-coloured pattern, a bat-like man stood off to the side, watching them with thickly muscled arms crossed over his chest.

All your dreams took place in a clearing, sunlight streaming through a thick canopy of leaves, a massive tree trunk spiralling up the centre. Art adorned the walls, a mural of those lost and symbols of the Firelights - Zaun’s freedom fighters. You’d heard whispers of them from the newcomers at the commune - when you’d been able to be among them - and an understanding tickled at the back of your mind. They were important, and the people spoke highly of them. Yet their whereabouts remained a mystery, leaving their supposed connection to Heimerdinger feeling inconsequential and irrelevant.

That was, until that morning, your magic-addled mind providing yet another vision as you paced your room. A crowd gathered around a weathered stone statue of a man long dead; Vander, a fighter for Zaun’s separation from Piltover. A woman with a metal arm concealed beneath her cape stood at the front, dark hair crowding her tired eyes, her jaw set with fierce determination. But it wasn't her that captured your attention. It was the bat-like figure lurking within the crowd, surrounded by several others dressed similarly. Firelights.

This vision would happen today, and you needed to be there. How hard could it be to find such a unique statue, especially if there was a large group of people heading that way?

Escaping the commune wasn’t particularly difficult either. With a cloak disguising your form and the sparks snuggled in the folds of your clothes, the hood pulled up to mask your features - and hide the commune members from your vision lest your mind decide to conjure up more hallucinations - you walked out of the front entrance without any issue.

Your cloak billowed behind you as you navigated the labyrinthine alleys. The acrid scent of chemicals and steam filled your nostrils as your feet carried you swiftly, driven by desperation and the fading echoes of your visions.

As you rounded a corner, you caught sight of a small group moving with purpose. Their faces were set with resolve, and you hoped they were headed to the rally. You fell into step behind them, careful to maintain a discreet distance. The group weaved through increasingly crowded streets, the buzz of excitement growing louder with each block.

There it was - the weathered statue of Vander, looming large and imposing - so familiar from your vision yet startlingly real.

Remaining at the back, your magic pulsing beneath your skin like a living thing, you scanned the gathering crowd. There was no sign of the bat-like man you sought, but that didn’t stop your brain from filling in the gaps. 

Sky stood at the centre, her chin raised in defiance, her messy bun spilling down her neck. She’d been from Zaun, and though you’d only known her as a Piltovan, the Undercity never really left any of its citizens. As she turned her head towards you, you were taken aback by the faint white scars crisscrossing her face, adorned with silver hoops and piercings that gave her a sharp edge. Her usually subtle makeup was now bold, with thick black streaks framing her eyes and accentuating their deep, earthy colour. A mischievous grin spread across her face, like a cat who had just caught its prey, as she waggled her fingers at you. 

Had she stayed in Zaun, would this have been who she’d become? Hardened by the harsh reality of living in the Lanes, but still unwilling to give up the fight for what she believed was right. 

“It’s no secret we’ve got history. Blood spilt on all sides,” the woman from your vision began her speech over the murmur of the crowd, scattering your vision of Sky and sending a pang of longing through your heart. It wasn’t her, not really. She had died, and her spirit…well, you didn’t really know what happened after death here. You’d freed her from the Hexcore, and even though warmth bloomed in your chest whenever you thought of her, your guilt over not saving her in the first place threatened to tear apart every good memory of your time together.

“Focus,” you hissed to yourself, drowning out the mechanical-armed woman’s speech. You had a goal to accomplish, and as much as you wanted to help with their plight, you were no use to anyone like this. If anything, you were only a danger. 

You scanned the crowd, heart pounding in your chest, until you spotted him. His bat ears twitched where he stood, alert and watchful at the front of the crowd. Relief flooded through you, tinged with a spark of hope. This was it, your chance to find Heimerdinger and maybe, just maybe, find a way to control your magic.

You started to make your way over, gently pushing through the throng of bodies. "Excuse me. Sorry, just trying to get through." Your magic hummed beneath your skin, responding to the heightened emotions. You clenched your fists, willing it to stay dormant.

As you navigated the sea of faces, a flash of blue caught your attention. You stopped, tilting your head to see where it had come from. On a balcony overlooking the square, a young girl stood proudly on the railings, arm outstretched, holding aloft a torch wreathed in vibrant blue smoke. Despite her size, she radiated a fierce determination that seemed to captivate the entire crowd.

The girl raised the torch higher, and all around you, people thrusted their fists skyward, faces alight with passion and hope. The cheer swelled, a tidal wave of sound that washed over you, threatening to sweep you away in its fervour.

You were caught in the middle of it all, your senses overwhelmed. The sharp smell of the smoke mingled with the press of bodies and the cheering. Your magic pulsed in time with the crowd's energy, and for a moment, you were terrified that you'd lose control.

You blinked hard, trying to focus through the sensory overload. The woman with the metal arm raised her fist triumphantly, but as she opened her mouth to speak, time seemed to slow.

A glint of sunlight off metal caught your eye. Your gaze tracked it instinctively, breath stuttering in your throat as you realized what it was. A spear, its wicked point gleaming, arched through the air with deadly precision.

Before you could even think of shouting a warning, the weapon found its mark. With a sickening thud, it pierced the woman's upraised metal arm, the force of the impact driving the spear clean through and embedding it in the statue behind her. The sound of metal scraping against stone made your teeth rattle.

For a heartbeat, silence reigned. The woman's eyes widened in shock, her mouth forming a perfect 'O' of surprise. Then chaos erupted. Screams tore through the air as people scrambled in all directions, a panicked tide threatening to sweep you off your feet.

Your magic surged within you, responding to the fear and confusion that saturated the space. You spun around, heart clamouring in your throat as enforcers - shields raised and weapons brandished - started closing in. 

“You’re all under arrest,” a burly man clad in red clothes and silver-hued armour announced, straightening to his impressive height. 

The enforcers advanced, and magic crackled at your fingertips. 

The burly man cut all who ran or attempted to fight down with a lazy swing of his big fist, the enforcers catching the rest and pining them to the ground. 

You backed up, but there was nowhere for you to go. An enforcer, his shield held sturdy in his grip and his face hidden behind his gas mask advanced on you, resolution in the strength of his strides. 

“Please,” you begged, raising your hands, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

But he didn’t hear your words. All he could see was the darting lightning of your magic jumping between your fingers, and the pink shimmer that ran through your veins. You were a threat, and he would take you down. 

He lunged, and you tried to hold your magic back, but you were terrified, and your control was almost non-existent. It had been the whole reason you’d come here, to find a solution to your fraying restraints. Instead, you’d been plunged into the very situation you’d been trying to avoid. 

From your palms came a wave of force, your arms raising to cover your face as you braced for an impact that never came. Breathing hard, you watched in horror as the enforcer was thrown across the courtyard, his body colliding with a stone wall and embedding in the rock. He slumped, dropping his shield and baton. 

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at the motionless enforcer as he slid to the ground. Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God. What had you done? Time seemed to slow as your mind raced, panic clawing at your throat. Had you just killed him? The thought made your stomach lurch violently.

You stumbled backward, magic crackling wildly around your trembling hands. Pink light pulsed beneath your skin, your power threatening to break free completely. You couldn't breathe, couldn't think. The world spun around you as guilt and terror battled for supremacy in your mind.

A flash of movement caught your eye, dragging your gaze away. And there, standing in the middle of the pandemonium, was a sight that made your blood run cold. Singed. The man who’d used Shimmer to bring you back from the brink of death and trap you in this cycle.

You froze, rooted to the spot as his piercing gaze swept over the square. What was he doing here? Your mind reeled, trying to make sense of his presence. Was he behind this attack? Connected to your predicament somehow? The questions swirled, each more horrifying than the last.

As if sensing your attention, Singed's eyes locked onto yours. He tilted his head, studying you with a detached curiosity that made your skin crawl. You wanted to run, to scream, to do anything but stand there paralyzed by his gaze.

You never got the chance. A sharp pain exploded at the base of your skull, and the world tilted sideways. Your vision blurred, darkness creeping in at the edges. The last thing you saw before consciousness slipped away was Singed's impassive face, watching your fall with clinical interest.

Merciful oblivion claimed you, and you knew no more.

Flames rose from the desecrated grounds, flickering their malcontent as they consumed more and more of the commune. Smoke obscured your vision and tightened like a noose around your throat. Coughing did you no good, unable to catch your breath, you waved your hand in a useless attempt to clear the air. Eyes watering, you squinted into the inferno, arm raised to shield your face. 

What had happened here? 

Taking a careful step forward, the blurry outline of a figure amongst the flames came into view. As you got closer, the unmistakable soft brown locks, slim shoulders, and metallic limbs had relief filling your chest. Viktor, thank the gods, he was alive. 

“Viktor,” you called to him as you headed his way, coughing as you breathed in yet more acrid smoke. “What’s going on?” 

His head bent as though he heard you, but he did not turn around, hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You abandoned us,” he spat like the words were poison on his tongue. 

Your foot caught on a jagged beam, sending you lurching forward. Your lips parted in surprise and your eyes blinked rapidly as you tried to comprehend his words.

“What? No, I didn’t, I came back. I-I didn’t know this was going to happen.” 

He raised his hand, and your heart pounded in terror as you heard the deep scorn and disappointment laced in his voice. “You left when I needed you most, when we needed you.”

With a single flick of his hand through the smoke, he dispersed it like a macabre curtain. Bodies materialized all around you, emerging from the haze like ghosts made flesh and blood and sinew. Your eyes darted frantically from one fallen form to the next, recognizing faces and names. The virulent stench of burning flesh assaulted your nose, making your eyes water.

But nothing could have prepared you for what lay at your feet.

Charlotte's lifeless eyes stared up at you, her face frozen in an expression of terror. Her greyed hair was matted with blood, splayed out around her head like a gruesome halo. The delicate fingers that had once knitted for hours on end now lay limp and useless at her sides.

You stumbled backward, a strangled cry tearing from your throat. Your knees buckled and you hit the ground hard, hands scrabbling in the ash and debris. Bile rose in your throat, your body shaking.

Charlotte, who had always greeted you with a warm smile and a kind word. Charlotte, who had nothing but patience and kindness for everyone. Charlotte, who had shared you with stories of her daughter.

Charlotte, who lay dead on the burning ground because of your absence.

“This is your fault.” Viktor had only ever been gentle with you, sweet beyond what you’d ever hoped for. Never had he spoken with such hate for you, his words cutting like daggers.

"You did this," Viktor snarled, finally turning to face you. His muted-rainbow eyes, once so warm and full of love, now burned with an icy fury that chilled you to your core. "Your cowardice, your weakness - it killed them all."

You shook your head frantically, tears streaming down your ash-stained cheeks. "No, please, I didn't mean to—"

"Didn't mean to what?" he cut you off, his voice razor-sharp. "Didn't mean to abandon us? Didn't mean to let your fear turn you into a liability?"

Each word was a dagger to your heart. You crawled towards him on your hands and knees, leaving smears in the ash and soot. "Viktor, please," you begged, your voice cracking. "I love you. I was trying to protect you!"

He laughed, a harsh, bitter sound that bore no resemblance to the gentle sounds you’d once cherished. "Protect us? Look around you! This is what your 'protection' has wrought."

You reached for him, desperate to touch him, to make him understand. But your hand passed through him like smoke, and he dissipated before your eyes.

"No!" you screamed, clawing at the empty air where he had stood. "Come back! Please, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

You collapsed into a sobbing heap, your body wracked with ugly, heaving cries. The stinging smoke filled your lungs, choking you, but you welcomed the pain. You deserved it. You deserved it all.

With a jarring jolt, you were ripped from unconsciousness and forced back into reality, gasping for air. As your vision cleared, your surroundings came into focus - a large, metal container with walls pressing in on all sides. The air was thick and oppressive, filled with the pungent scent of sweat and fear. Bodies were crammed together, the space feeling more and more suffocating by the second. You were among them, slumped against the wall like a discarded doll, your limbs limp and weakened.

The container swayed and you realized with a stomach-churning clarity that you were moving. To where, you didn't know. But as the faces of your fellow prisoners swam into focus - their eyes wide with terror and resignation - you understood that wherever you were going, it wasn't going to be pleasant.

Your head throbbed, and you tasted blood in your mouth. The events in the square came rushing back - the speech, the attack, your loss of control. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing it all to be another nightmare. But the press of bodies around you and the ache in your bones told you this was all too real.

The container swayed, and nausea built. There were no windows, and the smell of sweaty bodies cramped together was not helping.

You pressed your palms against the cold metal wall, trying to ground yourself as panic scraped at your chest. The container lurched again, and bodies swayed around you like a human tide.

This couldn't be happening. You squeezed your eyes shut, your magic stirring within you, responding to your distress. The pink light of your Shimmer pulsed beneath your skin, growing brighter with each ragged breath. You clenched your fists, desperately trying to keep it contained. "Please," you whispered, "not now. Not here."

But your pleas fell on deaf ears. Your power surged, crackling along your arms like lightning. The people nearest to you flinched away, their eyes wide with terror. You wanted to reassure them, to tell them you meant no harm, but the words stuck in your throat.

You curled into yourself, trying to make yourself as small as possible. But there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide from the storm brewing inside you.

A light, almost imperceptible tap on your elbow jolted you from your thoughts. You lifted your head slowly, trying to suppress the waves of nausea and panic that threatened to overtake you. Your eyes landed on a young girl, no older than ten, with vibrant blue hair tied back in small double braids. Her small helmet was askew on her head as she knelt before you, her amber eyes wide with curiosity. You frowned, recognizing her as the same girl from the rally.

Having caught your attention, she pointed at the sparks that swirled around your body, buzzing with agitation. Your frown deepened, eyeing her warily, but she only watched them move with such child-like wonder, unconcerned with the magic sparking over you. A knot of tension uncoiled from below your ribcage began unfurling, calmed by her innocent fascination. But your magic was still restless, and it surged, filling your lungs and crawling up your throat, begging to be released. Flinching, you exhaled deeply and squeezed your eyes shut until the pressure abated slightly - though never completely.

The girl pursed her lips, glancing around her like she could find the answers she needed in the pockets of the adults who were doing their best to stay away from you. 

You watched, transfixed, as a wayward spark drifted from your fingertips, lazily floating through the stale air of the container. The girl's eyes widened, tracking its meandering path with rapt attention. As if in slow motion, the spark alighted on the very tip of her button nose.

She went cross-eyed, trying to keep the glowing spark in view, her face scrunching up in concentration. You giggled, small, though unexpected given your dire situation. The girl's eyes darted to yours, a mischievous glint sparkling within them.

Quick as lightning, her hands shot up, cupping around her nose. When she pulled them away, you saw the spark nestled in her palms, pulsing gently like a tiny, captured star. She carefully transferred it to a small, clear container hanging from a cord around her waist.

The spark bounced and ricocheted off the walls of its new prison, leaving trails of light in its tracks. The girl held it up to her eyes, peering inside with amazement written across her round features. For a moment, you forgot about the danger, lost in the simple joy of her fascination.

A prickling sensation at the back of your neck shattered the moment. You looked up, your eyes locking with Singed's cold, calculating gaze. He stood at the far end of the container, watching you with predatory interest.

Without thinking, you reached out and gently grasped the girl's sleeve, tugging her closer to your side.

"Hey," you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady. "Why don't you come sit over here with me?"

The girl looked up, startled by your sudden movement. Her eyes darted between you and Singed, confusion evident on her young face. You forced a smile, hoping it looked reassuring rather than terrified.

"I could use some company," you added, patting the space beside you. "And maybe you could tell me more about how you caught that spark?"

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded, scooting over until she was pressed against your side. You positioned yourself so that your body shielded her from Singed's view, your magic humming protectively beneath your skin.

As the girl settled in, you kept one eye on Singed. He remained motionless, his expression unreadable behind his half-mask. But you could feel the weight of his stare, heavy and suffocating.

The container lurched, and you instinctively wrapped an arm around the girl to steady her. Your fingers tingled where they touched her shoulder, your magic reacting to the proximity of another person.

As the container lurched once more, this time coming to a sudden stop and throwing you and the girl forward. Your arm tightened around her as shouts echoed outside. Heart pounding, you braced yourself for what was to come.

The doors flew open with a deafening bang, flooding the dark space with harsh light. You squinted, eyes watering as enforcers swarmed in, their faces obscured by masks, voices muffled as they barked orders.

"Out! Everyone out, now!"

Bodies pressed forward, and you stumbled out onto the platform, shielding your eyes against the harsh glare. As your vision adjusted, you stilled. Looming before you was a monstrosity of stone and steel - Stillwater Prison. You’d seen pictures of it but they hadn’t done it any justice.

The fortress raised from the mist-shrouded waters, its walls a patchwork of weathered stone and gleaming metal. Towering smokestacks belched noxious fumes into the perpetually gray sky, casting long shadows across the choppy waves below. You craned your neck, taking in the full scope of the structure. It seemed to go on forever, a labyrinth of walkways, bridges, and guard towers stretching as far as the eye could see. Barbed wire coiled along the ramparts like venomous snakes, a warning to any who might consider escape.

The girl pressed closer to your side, her small hand finding yours and squeezing tight - to which you responded in kind.

Guards herded your group forward, their batons raised threateningly. You shuffled along, careful not to lose your footing on the slick metal gangway. The prison's entrance loomed before you - a gaping maw of darkness, ready to swallow you whole.

But pink light flared beneath your skin and sparks swirled around you, marking you as different, as a dangerous other. The guard nearest you recoiled, immediately raising his weapon.

"We've got a mage!" he shouted. "Containment team, now!"

Rough hands seized your arms, yanking you away from the girl. She clung to you desperately, her small fingers digging into your shirt. She whimpered, eyes wide and bottom lip quivering.

"It's okay," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "It's okay, I'll see you again soon. Be brave."

You gently pried her hands loose, even as your heart shattered. You couldn’t allow her to get hurt on your behalf. A guard pulled her away, her arms still reaching for you. You watched her disappear into the crowd, hoping that your promise would remain true.

"Move it, mage," an enforcer growled in your ear. “Use your magic and you’re dead.”

You were shoved forward, stumbling as they marched you away from the others. Your magic surged in response to your fear, crackling along your skin. If you let it free, you imagined you’d be able to fight back and escape. But without control, you weren’t sure that ‘fighting back’ wouldn’t mean eviscerating everyone in a twenty-mile radius, other prisoners included.

They led you to a small, circular chamber with glass walls and runes etched into the stone ceiling. How long had it been since they’d last used it?

As they forcefully shoved you through the threshold, the air grew heavy and oppressive, weighing down on every inch of your body. The door slammed shut behind you with a whoosh of hydraulics. Just as the last lock clicked shut, an excruciating pain shot through you, as if every piece of your soul was being crushed under a mountain of pressure. Your magic writhed and protested, struggling against the invisible restraints that forced it back inside you. It was like being suffocated from within, your spirit screaming in agony as it was forcibly contained.

You collapsed to your knees, the force of your cry ripping through your chest like a hurricane. Your body curled in on itself, trembling as waves of agony crashed over you.

Lying on the cold, unforgiving metal floor, every nerve ending alight with pain, Viktor's face swam before your eyes - his gentle smile, the warmth in his loving gaze. A sob caught in your throat. He had no idea where you were or what had happened to you. All he had was a shitty note written by a woman half out of her mind.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice barely audible even to your own ears. "I'm so sorry, Viktor."

This had to have been your stupidest idea yet.

You pictured him pacing the commune, worry carved into the lines of his face as he searched for any sign of you. Would he think you'd abandoned him? The thought made your chest constrict painfully. You hadn’t meant to, you had only wanted to find some way to halt your descent into madness. You could see the way it ate at him, that no matter what he tried he couldn’t break through the barrier your Shimmer-infused blood had placed.

The memory of his arms around you, his soft voice murmuring reassurances in your ear, felt like a cruel taunt now.

As another wave of pain washed over you, your mind drifted to the little girl with the blue hair. In your mind's eye, you saw her again - round eyes wide with wonder as she captured that errant spark of your magic. The image tugged at something in your memory, a half-forgotten conversation flickering to life.

Viktor's voice echoed in your mind, clear as if he were standing beside you: "These sparks, I wonder if there is more to them than we initially thought."

You gasped, could the answer to your problems have been buzzing around you this entire time? The girl had contained a spark, but perhaps…Were they more than just a manifestation of your magic, but rather a container waiting to be filled? If your magic had come from a Gemstone - sucked out like well-seasoned bone marrow - theoretically, there had to be some way to re-contain it, to focus it.

Could it really be so simple?

Your eyes snapped open, a new determination burning within you. You concentrated, gritting your teeth against the pain as you reached deep within yourself. Your magic responded sluggishly, fighting against the oppressive force of the chamber. But you pushed harder, drawing it up from the core of your being.

A tiny spark flickered to life in your palm, weak and wavering. You cupped it gently, pouring every ounce of focus into nurturing that fragile light. Sweat beaded on your brow as you willed more of your power into the spark, imagining it as a vessel, expanding to contain the torrent of magic within you.

The spark grew, pulsing with a vibrant blue glow. You felt a shift, a sudden lightness as your magic flowed into this new container. The pressure in your chest eased, the pain receding as more and more of your power transferred into the glowing orb.

Encouraged, you created another spark, then another. Soon, you had a small bushel of sparks hidden in your arms, each one a repository for your volatile energy. The runes on the walls flickered and sputtered, struggling to contain a power that was no longer there to be suppressed - at least, not inside a living being.

You staggered to your feet, ears ringing and vision blurry. But you felt lighter, freer than you had in weeks. The sparks orbited you like tiny planets, humming with barely contained energy. You took a deep breath, centring yourself as you prepared for what came next - drowning out the cries of warning from your captors.

With a fierce cry, you thrust your hands forward. The sparks shot towards the ceiling, each one detonating in a brilliant explosion of light and raw magical force. The runes shattered like glass, their pieces raining down in a glittering cascade.

The chamber's oppressive aura vanished in an instant. Your magic surged back into you, filling you with a wild, exhilarating power. The door buckled and warped and you stepped forward. With a single, focused blast, you blew the door off its hinges. Alarms blared as you emerged, but you didn't wait to let them aim their weapons. Siphoning your excess magic back into the sparks, you ran, using your magic to propel you at inhuman speeds.

Your feet barely seemed to touch the ground as you raced through the corridors of Stillwater. Alarms wailed all around you, red emergency lights casting eerie shadows on the walls. But you were faster, slipping past confused guards and panicked inmates like a ghost.

You took turns at random, relying on instinct and the pull of fresh air to guide you. Up staircases, across catwalks, through maintenance tunnels - you were a blur of motion.

Shouts echoed behind you, but they grew fainter with each passing second. You burst through a final set of doors and suddenly, you were outside. The misty air hit your lungs like a shock, but ultimately welcome. For a moment, you stood there, gulping in great lungfulls of the toxic atmosphere as if it were the sweetest perfume - freedom, at last.

But something wasn’t right. As your eyes adjusted to the dim light, you noticed figures huddled against walls, cowering and staring in horror at the bodies littered about. Confusion washed over you. These weren’t enforcers or prison staff - they were ordinary Zaunites, the ones you’d arrived with. You looked around for the little girl, but she was nowhere in sight.

Your eyes darted frantically from face to face, searching for a glimpse of blue hair or the glint of a tiny spark-filled vial. A group of inmates huddled near a crumbling section of the wall, their faces twisted with hope and terror as they eyed their potential escape route.

You lurched towards them, your heart pounding so hard you could feel it in your throat. You wanted to ask them if they’d seen the little girl, but before you could, a bone-chilling howl split the air. You turned, your blood running cold as a massive, bestial figure launched itself towards you.

The monster was huge, a hulking mass of muscle and matted fur. His lupine features contorted into a snarl, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth that glinted in the low light. Saliva dripped from his jaws, sizzling as it hit the ground. His eyes, a sickly yellow, burned with a primal hunger that had you feeling like a rabbit with its foot caught in a trap.

Massive claws, each as long as your forearm, extended from his powerful hands. The metal augmentations fused to his body caught the light, a grotesque marriage of flesh and machine. Tubes filled with a glowing red liquid pumped the substance directly into his veins.

Without thinking, you thrusted your hands outward. A shimmering barrier of magical energy erupted from your palms, expanding outward in a half-dome that encompassed you and the nearest group of people. The beast slammed into the shield with bone-jarring force, his claws screeching against the magical surface.

The impact sent tremors through your body, but you gritted your teeth and held firm. He snarled, his yellow eyes locking onto yours, filled with a terrifying intelligence that belied his bestial form.

"Run!" you shouted to those huddled behind your shield. "Get to safety!"

They didn’t need to be told twice, and they left as quickly as their feet could take them, heading for the shelter of a prison transport container. As the beast hurled himself at the barrier again and again, you felt the burning strain of maintaining the shield. Sweat beaded on your brow, your arms trembling with the effort. But you couldn’t let go - not yet, not while there were still people scrambling to safety.

Each impact from the beast rattled your teeth and threatened to buckle your knees. Sweat poured down your face, stinging your eyes as you struggled to keep the barrier intact.

The magical dome flickered, its once-vibrant surface now dim and wavering. Cracks spiderwebbed across its surface, spreading with each thunderous blow. Your breath came in ragged gasps, lungs heaving as if you'd sprinted for miles. A coppery taste filled your mouth, your nose trickling blood from the immense effort.

You couldn't hold out much longer. The beast's yellow eyes gleamed with triumph, sensing your weakness. He reared back, muscles bunching beneath his matted fur as he prepared for one final, devastating assault.

But, he froze, his ears perking up, his massive head swivelling towards the main entrance. He sniffed the air, nostrils flaring. In a split second, he had turned and bounded away, disappearing into the mists of Stillwater with surprising speed for a creature of his size.

The shield collapsed as you fell to your knees, gasping for breath. For a moment, you could only kneel there, your limbs felt like lead, your entire body shaking from exhaustion.

A distant shout snapped you back to reality. You scrambled to your feet, muscles protesting as you forced yourself into motion. Following the fleeing inmates, you stumbled toward the container that had already been pushed off the platform.

Your eyes darted frantically among the crowd, searching for a glimpse of blue hair or a small figure. But there was no sign of the little girl. You told yourself she must have already escaped and that she was safe on the mainland. The alternative was too painful to consider.

You jumped over the distance, barely reaching the open door, but you managed to hold on with the last of your strength and pulled yourself inside.

You slumped against the cold metal wall of the container, chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. The container swayed and lurched as it made its way across the windy expanse, each motion sending fresh waves of pain through your battered body. But beneath the physical discomfort, a newfound sense of control burbled within you.

The sparks of your magic danced lazily around your fingertips, responding to your will with a fluidity you'd never experienced before. For the first time, your power felt like an extension of yourself rather than a wild, unpredictable force.

Time seemed to blur as the container continued its journey. The low murmur of voices around you faded into white noise. You closed your eyes, letting the rhythmic motion lull you into semi-consciousness.

A sudden jolt snapped you back to reality. The container had arrived, its doors creaking open to reveal the docking station. People pushed and shoved, desperate to escape the confines of their metal prison. You tumbled out with them, blinking owlishly in the dim light of the Undercity. The crowd scattered like startled birds, each person darting off in search of shelter or escape.

With a deep breath, you set off towards the commune. It didn’t take long for you to reach the outskirts, your magic guiding you home, relief and anxiety swirling in your gut. The familiar sights and smells of home beckoned you forward, even as worry gnawed at the edges of your mind. How would Viktor react? Would he be angry? Disappointed? The thought of facing his potential rejection made your steps falter.

What if Viktor wasn't there? What if he was gone, searching for you and thinking you'd left him? Or worse, what if he was there, but couldn’t forgive you for leaving? The thought of his iridescent eyes being cold with disappointment, made your stomach churn.

No, you told yourself. Viktor wouldn’t do that, you couldn’t allow your anxieties to colour your views of him. He loved you, and while he may be upset that you’d left, he would not forsake you. Of that, you were certain.

Next Chapter

A/N: Isha saw the pink eyes and jitteriness and went: …you are mom-shaped?

I hope you enjoyed the action! How do you think Viktor will respond?

I’d love to hear what you think so far!

[tired-truffle]

Even the Gods Cry For Us

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 4.4k

Part 10/17

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

"Come love, make me better than I was. Come teach me a kinder way to say my own name." - Andrea Gibson

Masterlist

Skin, soft and pliant beneath your hands, stretched over sharp bones, softening their jut. A light woodsy cologne, so familiar and yet you hadn’t smelled it in, what, weeks? How long had it been since you’d been in Piltover? Viktor’s scent still held a lingering smell of pine, but nowhere as deep and rich as it had. But…why were you smelling it now? 

Eyes fluttering open under the early morning rays streaming through the window, you found your vision focusing on porcelain swaths of pale flesh beneath a familiar leather and metal back brace, rising and falling in serene rest.

Jolting upright, you wiped the sleep from your eyes. Focusing on his face, your shoulders came down from their hitched spot at your neck, though only slightly. Viktor - face thin and pale but unmistakably him - roused from sleep by your sudden movement, blinked languidly up at you. His brow furrowed, groggy and confused. 

“Milá?” he croaked, reaching for you with hands that should have been a steely grey, purple light sifting through the cracks. 

You didn’t mean to flinch, but it was all so confusing. This wasn’t your Viktor, but it was still Viktor, wasn’t it? He smelled, felt, and looked like he used to, every detail correct down to the smallest freckle on his shoulder. But why had he changed, and why did he not seem to notice?

He pulled back, propping himself up on an elbow, bright amber eyes searching yours. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean—“ You pursed your lips, exhaling out of your nose in a quick burst.

“You’re staring,” he said pointedly. 

You narrowed your eyes, irritation pulling at the sides of your mouth. “You’re…unevolved?”

He scoffed, a hint of a smile playing across his lips. “Ouch.”

Rolling your eyes, you sat back on your heels. “De-evolved? No, that’s not any better.” You tapped your chin, piecing together a better answer. “You look like how you were before I tried to heal you with the Hexcore. I think.” It was more than just your vision, hearing and sense of smell telling you this was Viktor, it was deeper, more intrinsic than that. His…essence swirled and flowed beneath his skin, calm and gentle but persistent, like the rising tide. With a tentative hand, you reached for him, placing your hand delicately on his chest. Smooth and warm to the touch, him and yet not him. 

He hummed contemplatively, allowing you to slowly roam across his chest. The blankets pooled around his waist, and you wondered what you’d find should you lift it. But mid-hallucination - if that’s what this was - was likely not the best time to be testing that thought. 

“I appear the same to me,” he offered, flipping his hand over as he examined it.

Any hopes you had that Viktor had been miraculously healed and given his old body back, free from the hold of the Hexcore, were thoroughly dashed. You fought to keep your disappointment in check - not because his physical appearance had any bearing on how much you adored him, but because you still didn’t know the depths of the Hexcore’s influence. And you worried, as you always did.

“It’s still quite early,” he said after you pulled your hand back, sitting on your ankles. “We have time to rest, should you still wish to.” 

Looking to the window, you registered the beginnings of birds chirping outside, the slow wake of the commune as those tending to the fields began their work. The sunlight, tinged orange from when it had risen, provided a comforting glow to the room.

You turned back to Viktor, ready to respond, but the words died on your lips. In the span of a heartbeat, his form had shifted. Gone was the soft, warm flesh you'd touched moments ago. In its place, sleek metallic grooves gleamed in the early morning light, pulsing with a faint purple glow, Hexcore energy thrumming beneath the surface.

With a soft smile, you said, “Back to normal.” You rapped on his chest with a closed fist, solid beneath your knuckles. 

With a sleepy half-smile, he gathered you into his arms. The cool metal of his chest pressed against your cheek. It was familiar, comforting in its own way. His arms encircled you, one hand splayed across your back while the other cradled your head, fingers tangling in your hair.

Time seemed to slow as you lay there, wrapped in his embrace. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you in your own little bubble. You traced lazy patterns on his chest, following the intricate lines and seams of his mechanical body. Viktor's thumb stroked small circles on your arm, the motion so gentle you might not have noticed if not for the slight coolness of his metal finger against your skin.

Sunlight crept across the room as morning progressed, tinting everything in a warm, golden hue. The chirping of birds grew louder, accompanied by the distant sounds of the commune coming to life. You'd have to get up soon, face the day and its challenges, but for now, you allowed yourself to simply be.

With the breaking of the day, you rose and your mind crumbled. 

Whatever the Hextech surge had done to you hadn’t dissipated over the course of your rest. When you went out into the crowded commune, away from the safe haven that was your room with Viktor, you froze in your tracks. The patients, once familiar faces, now bore metallic visages. Their skin gleamed with an unnatural sheen, eyes empty of life. Limbs whirred and clicked as they moved, servos humming beneath synthetic flesh. You blinked hard, rubbing your eyes, willing the illusion to fade. For a moment, it did - human features flickered back into view, only to be consumed once more by cold, robotic masks.

A whimper caught in your throat as you tried to act normal, to move through the crowd without betraying your rising panic. It wasn’t real, you had established this. But with each step, the feeling of being watched intensified. You glanced over your shoulder, expecting to see some looming mechanical monstrosity, only to find empty air. Still, the sensation persisted - a presence just out of sight, always lurking at the edge of your vision.

Viktor's hand on your shoulder made you jump. "Milá? What's wrong?" His voice was laced with concern, narrowed eyes searching your face.

You forced a smile, but it felt brittle on your lips. "Nothing, I'm fine. Just tired, I guess."

He didn't seem convinced, his a crease forming between his brows as he studied you. Before he could press further, Charlotte approached, her expression calm - blessedly not a robot like most others you could see - but you could sense the worry and understanding that radiated off her.

"Herald, you're needed for some new arrivals, they’re in bad shape," she said, then turned to you. "Mila, why don't you come with me? Some fresh air might do you good."

Gratitude washed over you as Charlotte led you away from the crowded commune center and you said a quick goodbye to Viktor - a kiss pressed to his cool cheek. With each step towards the outskirts, the incessant buzzing in your head - a maddening drone you hadn't even realized was there - began to fade into the background. The robotic visions gave way to the peaceful greens and earthy browns of the surrounding fields.

You took a deep breath, feeling some of the tension leave your body. Charlotte squeezed your hand gently, a silent gesture of support. As you reached the edge of the commune, the last remnants of the hallucinations dissipated, leaving you feeling drained but relieved.

For now, at least, you could breathe easy. But lurking in the back of your mind was a nagging fear; how long would this respite last? And what awaited you when you inevitably had to return?

“I’m sorry you’ve been wrapped up in my mess.” Rubbing the back of your neck, you kicked at the pebbles that lined the path. 

Charlotte scoffed, brushing you off with a wave of her hand. “Don’t be, dear. A walk is exactly what I needed.” 

You risked a glance at her, and to your immense relief, her face remained unchanged - human and full of motherly kindness. “You don’t have to say that.”

She tilted her head to the side. “No, I don’t,” she said with a grin. Warmth spread through your limbs, and you let it drop, following her lead as she sat on an outcropping of flattened rocks. 

The feeling of being watched prickled at the base of your neck and you rolled your shoulders like you could slough it off your back. 

“What did you do before this?” Your leg bounced, rapid and anxious, and you resisted the urge to whirl around. 

There was nothing there, you were safe. 

“I was a mother,” Charlotte’s smile met her dark eyes, but the curve of her brow was weighed down by a sorrow so deeply entrenched it would never be healed. Even Viktor had his limits. 

What could you say to something like that? ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ wouldn’t cut it, nor would it make much sense as a response to her statement. Charlotte was a strong woman, that much you’d been able to tell upon your first meeting, she would only balk if she saw pity. 

Keeping your face carefully blank, you fiddled with your hands in your lap. “Do you ever stop being a mother?”

Charlotte snorted and shook her head, her silvery white hair swishing along her shoulders. “No, you don’t.” She paused, eyeing you like she was searching for a lie. “You remind me of my eldest daughter, in a way.”

“Oh,” you blinked, a million questions rising to your tongue - what was she like, did you look like her or act like her, what happened to her, did she live or just fade away? “I’m sorry.”

Crap. Hadn’t you just decided that wasn’t the thing to say? 

Charlotte placed her hand on your arm, squeezing lightly. “Don’t be. It’s good to see her again.” 

The sparks, ever-present, if not always seen, travelled down your arm, ghosting up and over until they swirled around Charlotte’s shoulders. The woman’s eyes widened as she watched in pure fascination. The spark cheered their approval, and with a unified glow, scattered. Some landed in her hair or danced along her limbs, others returned to you, disappearing into your clothes. 

“Sorry, they don’t exactly listen or have an understanding of personal boundaries.” You made a swipe for one at the crown of Charlotte’s head, but with evasive the manoeuvres of a professional athlete, it dodged you with a sharp squeal. 

“No need to worry about them,” Charlotte said, bringing one up to her face and giggling as it tickled her nose. “They’re cute. But…what are they?” 

You shrugged, blowing on one as it floated past your mouth. “No idea, they just showed up one day and refused to leave. Viktor thinks they’re a part of me, but I’m not entirely convinced.” 

“Whatever they are, they sure like you.” 

If they liked you then why did they spend the majority of their time irritating you? “What makes you say that?” 

“That’s how kids are when they trust you. Always pushing your buttons, testing your limits. They know that no matter what they do, you’ll never throw them out in the cold.” Charlotte’s expression softened as she spoke, her eyes distant and unfocused, following memories of a happier time. 

“Your daughter, what was her name?” you asked, tentative and careful in case you were overstepping. 

But Charlotte met you with the brightest smile you’d ever seen stretch across her face. “Elowen.”

“That’s a beautiful name.” You returned her smile, though only half as bright. 

Charlotte sighed wistfully as she spoke, sweet and gentle like the flutter of butterfly wings. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” she said. “Sometimes I still don’t know how I was able to keep going without her, but who else would carry her memory? It was only the two of us for so long.” 

Given that you’d almost lost your mind and taken half of Runeterra with you when you’d been faced with Viktor’s imminent death, you had to commend Charlotte for her strength. 

“Would you…” Hesitating, you swallowed down your worry. Charlotte hadn’t shown any signs of being against speaking about her daughter. Everyone mourns differently. Some prefer to bury their feelings, pretend like it didn’t happen, and others - like Charlotte, it would seem - find solace in reminiscing and keeping their loved one’s memories alive. “I’d love to hear more, if you’d like to talk about her.”

Charlotte's eyes lit up, and you were relieved that you had assessed her correctly. "Oh, where to begin?" She leaned back, her gaze drifting to the horizon as if she could see her memories painted across the sky. "Elowen was…vibrant. Full of life and laughter. She had this uncanny ability to find joy in the smallest things."

As Charlotte spoke, you felt yourself relaxing, the prickling sensation at the back of your neck fading away. The older woman's words painted a vivid picture, and you found yourself drawn into the story.

"I remember this one time, during a terrible storm," Charlotte continued, her hands gesturing animatedly. "The rain was coming down in sheets, thunder shaking the very foundations of our home. Most children would have been terrified, but not my Elowen. She dragged me outside, splashing in puddles and twirling in the downpour. 'Look, Mama!' she'd shout, her face turned up to the sky. 'The clouds are crying, but they're dancing too!'"

You chuckled, imagining a small girl with Charlotte's kind eyes, soaked to the bone and grinning from ear to ear.

"She had a way with plants, too," Charlotte said, her voice warm with pride. "We had a few on our windowsills. She'd spend hours there, talking to the flowers as if they were her closest friends. And you know what? They seemed to listen. I swear, under her care, even the most stubborn seeds would bloom. Probably had something to do with her stubborn streak rubbing off on them. If that girl didn’t want to do something, no one could convince her otherwise. But she also had this quiet kindness, a genuine love for every creature she encountered. She put her heart and soul into caring for others, no matter how small.”

As Charlotte's stories flowed, one after another, you found yourself completely engrossed. The world around you faded away, replaced by images of a precocious child with a heart full of wonder. You learned of Elowen's first attempts at baking, which ended with more flour on the floor than in the bowl. Of her made-up songs about the changing seasons, sung at the top of her lungs as she skipped around the house.

Time seemed to slip away as you sat there, listening. The sun climbed higher in the sky, warming your skin. A gentle breeze carried the scent of wildflowers, and in the distance, you could hear the soft commotion of the commune at work. The feeling of being watched had completely disappeared, replaced by a sense of peace and contentment.

Finally, Charlotte's voice trailed off, her stories coming to an end. She looked at you, her eyes shining with unshed tears, but her smile was radiant. "Thank you," she said softly. "It's been so long since I've had the chance to talk about her memory."

You reached out, squeezing her hand gently. "Thank you for sharing with me. Elowen sounds like she was an incredible person."

Charlotte nodded, giving your hand a squeeze in return. "She was. And in a way, she still is. As long as we remember them, the ones we love are never truly gone."

A low pulse grew in your chest, pleasant and warm and strangely familiar - like soft giggles and shared meals. But before you could place it, it was gone, and all you could do was return Charlotte’s smile and nod.

Like a rabbit amongst wolves, a mouse cradled in the jaws of a cat, your teeth were set on edge, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. Something stood behind you, a menacing aura draping over you like a shroud. 

The feeling of being watched, hunted, rarely relented as the days began to pass. It seemed to haunt you at all hours, an unshakeable presence that clung to your every move. Sometimes, you could manage to distract yourself from it, but even that temporary respite was becoming less effective.

Venturing out into the community was torture, their eyes on you, their faces warping into horrific metal masks, dented, rusted and blood splattered. Outside of Viktor, only Charlotte seemed able to coax you out of your room, and even then, on the worst of days, you simply refused to leave. 

On those days, you were dangerous. 

Sweat beaded on your neck, rolling down and into the collar of your shirt. You tried to ignore it, that feeling of wrongness that crept at the edges of your vision. Fear rose in the back of your throat, instinctual and unfettered, nostrils flaring like a caged beast. Except you’d put yourself in that cage. 

You tried to focus on the room around you - the soft sheets beneath your fingers, the gentle light filtering through the curtains - but your mind kept slipping back to that presence behind you. It loomed larger with each passing second, a shadow given form by your fear.

You were a spring wound to its limit, muscles coiled tight. Your sparks began to swirl faster and faster, agitated by your distress. They crackled and popped, tiny bursts of energy that mirrored the chaos in your mind.

Something inside you snapped. With a strangled cry, you whirled around, arm outstretched, the sparks coalescing into jagged shards of arcane energy, pulsing with an eerie, otherworldly light. They shot from your fingertips like a volley of arrows, each one trailing wisps of cerulean mist.

“Someday, one of these is going to get stuck somewhere much less forgiving.” The sound of Viktor’s voice shattered the hazy illusion surrounding you with a suddenness that had your teeth rattling in your skull. Blinking away the fog in your vision, you focused on him, standing at in the entry of your shared room, the door left ajar like he’d only just stepped through, your arcane shards embedded in his bicep. 

You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, too horrified at what you’d just done. The only sound that filled your echoing silence was Viktor’s quiet grunt as he pulled the shard from his arm.

“Viktor, I’m—“ You took a step forward, but stopped short, not trusting yourself to be near him. If you’d been a few inches over, or slightly higher, you would have stabbed right through his neck - you would have killed him. “I’m so sorry.”

And this was not the first time. 

Closing the distance in his long-legged strides, he dropped the shard, letting it crumble into specks of light and disappear. He reached out and gently held your chin, guiding it upward until your eyes met his gaze. 

“I’m unharmed. It only caused mild discomfort.”

Rationally, you knew this, having a magic body had some perks. Yet you still ran your fingers over the spot where the shard had been lodged, your mind conjuring up thick rivulets of blood pouring out of him. You shook your head, trying to dispel the gruesome thoughts, his now metal body parts did not bleed. Yet that copper tang that filled your nostrils only served to heighten your fears. Would he bleed out in this room while you stood by and did nothing to stop it?

Tears sprang to your eyes at the thought. “Stop, stop, stop,” you repeated under your breath, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Milá.” Viktor brought your chin back up and away from his arm once more, a firm redirection. “Listen to me; you have not hurt me, you need not worry.”

Yet you did anyway. 

You twitched your head to the side, the reactionary need to use your magic to numb his pain flowing from your fingers and into him. You counted to ten in your head as the pressure behind your eyes dissipated, your breathing slowing. Your magic did nothing, he wasn’t hurting - as he had said - but it helped all the same.

Viktor sighed, lips slanted downwards, and pulled you against him in a tight hug. “It is endlessly aggravating that I cannot figure out how to help you.”

“If I apologize again you’re only going to berate me, aren’t you.” 

He gave a dry chuckle, pressing his cheek against the side of your head. “Did a vision tell you that?”

“Smartass,” you grumbled, though you could not keep the affection from coating your tone like honey. 

How many more times would this happen? How many close calls would you have to endure before your fear-driven instincts caused real harm? The image of Viktor lying on the floor, a pool of blood spreading around his body, flashed through your mind, making you shudder involuntarily. It wasn't real, you reminded yourself, but the possibility haunted you.

You thought back to the early days after you’d absorbed the Hexcore, when these hallucinations first manifested - your visions blending with falsehoods until you could no longer tell what was what. It had gotten better when Viktor had awoken, but after the Hextech surge, it had only continued to worsen.

What if you couldn't control it? What if one day, you hurt someone who couldn't shrug it off like Viktor? The thought of harming Charlotte or any of the innocent people in the commune made your stomach churn.

It gnawed at your sanity, leaving you jumpy and paranoid. You longed for just one day of peace, one moment where you could simply exist without fear.

You thought of Charlotte and her daughter Elowen, of the love and joy in Charlotte's voice as she shared her memories. Would you ever have a normal life like that, filled with simple pleasures and cherished moments, unburdened by your magic? Or was this your new reality - forever on edge, forever a danger to those around you?

You wanted to run, to hide, to find someplace where you couldn't hurt anyone. But even as the thought crossed your mind, you knew you couldn't leave. This place, these people - they were your home now. And Viktor…the thought of being without him made your heart ache and your eyes burn.

“What happens when I actually hurt someone?” You hadn’t realized you were speaking until after the words had left your mouth. 

Viktor sighed, long and heavy. “That will not happen.”

Stepping out of his embrace, you crossed your arms over your chest, scowling. “Denying it won’t make it any less likely.” 

Long, slender fingers recaptured your shoulder. “I am simply stating the truth.” 

Wrenching yourself from his grasp, you took another step back. “No, that’s not it. Every day I get worse, and I don’t know how to stop it. The people out there, the ones we should be protecting, are put at risk because I’m here.” Angry tears welled up in your eyes and you scrubbed them away with the heels of your palms. Though it was a futile effort, more hot tears took their place. “You ask them to leave their weapons at the door but I am a weapon. What happens when they can’t defend themselves against me?”

What would happen when you couldn’t do as Soraka had asked of you? Why did it have to be you? You hadn’t asked for this power, this mind that fractured under the weight of your arcane abilities. Soraka had told you that you could save them, but how were you supposed to do that when you couldn’t even think straight?

Viktor's eyes softened with a tender warmth, like the first rays of sunlight breaking through a stormy sky. He reached out his hand, moving slowly as if he was afraid to startle you, giving you the chance to retreat if you desired. But you couldn't bring yourself to. His metal fingers were cool as they brushed away the tears that streamed down your cheeks.

"You are not a weapon, miláčku. You are a person - full of complexity, compassion, and beauty. You are so much more than the power you possess."

His words washed over you, a balm to your frayed nerves. You wanted to believe him, desperately needed to. But the fear, the doubt, they clung to you like shadows.

"But the sparks, the visions or hallucinations, whatever they are. I’m losing control," you choked out.

"They’re part of you, yes," Viktor nodded, "but they do not define you. Your empathy, your strength, your unwavering desire to protect others - these are what make you who you are."

A sob escaped your throat, raw and vulnerable. The sparks, sensing your distress, began to swirl around you with increasing intensity. They danced through the air, weaving intricate patterns of light that pulsed in time with your ragged breaths.

Viktor watched, his eyes narrowing slightly in fascination. "These sparks," he mused, reaching out to let one land on his fingertip, "I wonder if there's more to them than we initially thought."

You sniffled, curiosity momentarily overriding your despair. "What do you mean?"

He shook his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Just a theory, nothing concrete as of yet. But the way they react to you, how they seem to have a will of their own…it's intriguing."

The sparks continued their dance, some nestling in your hair while others twirled around your arms. Their presence was comforting, familiar. You found your breathing beginning to even out, the tight knot in your chest slowly unravelling.

Viktor pulled you close again, his embrace steady and grounding, and you leaned against him. "We'll solve this," he murmured into your hair. "You're not alone in this, lásko. Never forget that."

You nodded against his chest and the sparks settled, a soft glow emanating from them as they nestled against your skin.

The world outside your room continued on, the sounds of the commune drifting through the window. But for now, in that moment, you allowed yourself to simply be - not a weapon, not a saviour, just Mila. And for now, that was enough.

Next Chapter

A/N: Viktor nation, how we feeling?

I dropped a little hint of something I think you guys are gonna like! Did anyone catch it?

[tired-truffle]

I couldn’t let this live in the hashtags @im-just-a-simp-le-whore it was too good! That is exactly how the conversation went 💀

Viktor: So…should I invent the Hexstrap?

Mila: I’ve actually got bigger problems right now

Viktor: Most things are bigger now 🥲

And as for when Jayce shows up, that maaaay be a few more chapters than it seems 😅

Even the Gods Cry For Us

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 8.1k

"If there ever comes a day that I am asked how it felt to love you, I will say only this: It feels like now.

For I will be yours, even then.

Inhale. Exhale. You've always been like breathing." - Unknown

Part 9/17

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

Warning: Hallucinations

Masterlist

You’d been naive to think the good days would last. You’d woken up that morning, your new purpose making you feel renewed and excited as the sun crested over the horizon, the sparks mirroring you with little yips and sprints across your body as you got ready for the day. Viktor watched you, a kernel of mirth in his eyes, and you kissed his cheek before bidding him a good day and making your way to the newcomers's area. You’d devoted several days in a row to spending your daylight hours providing pain relief, and your evenings and nights with Viktor - holding him in your arms, talking about everything and nothing. Finally, it felt as though something was going right. 

But the other shoe had to drop - as it always seemed to do. 

It started as a rippling in your blood, a vibration that set all the hair at the nape of your neck on end. You spun around, heart racing as you scanned for any threats. But there was none, or rather, none that you could see. It hit you then, as the small group of newcomers watched you with curious confusion - a misplaced emotion, it should have been fear. 

Like a sudden collision with a brick wall, energy burst from the ground, tearing a blood-curdling scream from your throat as it forced itself between your ribs, lacing around your heart and squeezing. Distantly, you registered the cries of terror erupting around you, but you had little space to process anything but your body coming apart at the seams, a clay pot broken and scattered in the wind before it smashed back again. Over and over, your flesh separated from muscle and bone and fused together in rapid succession. 

What it looked like to those that fled, you had no idea, but the pinks and greens and lightning blues that surged from your skin in blocky, sharp formations had you wondering if all that pain was only happening in your mind, coming from your body. Why else did it look so…alive?

Had you finally lost it? The last shreds of your sanity gone, never to return. No, it felt different than that, and while your mind cracked and slipped beneath the pressure, this did not come from you. This was something else, something bigger. 

“Milá,” you heard Viktor say, a cry of relief poised at the tip of your tongue. But when you looked up, that small modicum of relief dissolved like sugar in water. It was Husk who kneeled before you, his eyes shining an unnatural yellow hue. “Hold on, I am on my way to you.” 

Startled, you recoiled and frantically searched for footing on the dry dirt floor. That was Viktor's unmistakable voice emanating from Husk's mouth. The lilting accent that you had become so accustomed to hearing now sounded eerie and foreign coming from that unfamiliar vessel.

Husk held up his hands, his eyes losing their glow. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice this time. “Everything is going to be okay.” 

But it wasn’t, and everything burned and you didn’t understand why. Another surge of pain overtook you and you fell onto your back, arching as your muscles clenched and contorted. Your mouth fell open in a a desperate attempt to release your torment and you screamed, so deep and agonized you were not sure you’d ever be able to make another sound again.

A thin hand on your cheek had your eyes flaring open, ready to push and shove away from the perceived threat. But all that filled your vision was Viktor, face twisted with concern. His hands hovered over you, the purple light of his magic reflecting away like a forcefield had set up around your writhing body.  

A whimper worked its way up and out of your throat, tears falling in crystalline shards into your hair, sticky with sweat. 

“I can’t stop this,” he breathed, frustration in the crinkle of his nose.

You reached out desperately, fingers clawing at Viktor's robes as another wave of searing agony ripped through you. He pulled you onto his lap, cradling your trembling form against his chest. His hands found their way into your sweat-damp hair, stroking gently as he murmured soothing words that were barely audible over the roaring in your ears.

The pain ebbed and flowed like a violent tide, each peak leaving you gasping and shuddering. Viktor's arms tightened around you, as if he could shield you from the invisible force tearing you apart. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his familiar scent. It anchored you, giving you something to cling to as your world spun out of control.

"I'm here," Viktor whispered, his lips brushing against your temple. "Hold on to me. It will pass."

You wanted to believe him, but as another surge burned through you, you weren't sure you'd survive it. Your fingers dug into his arms, and had he been made of skin and bone, you would have left crescent-shaped marks lined with blood. He didn't flinch, didn't pull away. Instead, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

Agonizingly slowly, the pain began to lessen. The vibrations in your blood calmed and the pressure around your heart eased. You slumped against Viktor, utterly spent, your breaths coming in ragged pants. The world around you came back into focus - the dry earth beneath you, the warm sunlight on your skin, the gentle breeze carrying the scent of dust and distant flowers.

Viktor's hand continued its soothing motion through your hair, his other arm wrapped securely around your waist. You blinked up at him, your mind reeling. His eyes, usually alight with curiosity and wit, were clouded with worry and a hint of what looked suspiciously like fear.

“I am going to bring you back home now. Are you ready?” 

But you were already home with him. Did he know how special he was to you? How much you loved him? 

Your head bobbed weakly, unable to summon the strength to do much else. The peace you'd found, the purpose you'd discovered - it all felt like it was slipping away, leaving you adrift in a sea of doubt and uncertainty. You clung tighter to Viktor as silent tears tracked down your cheeks.

The world had shifted beneath your feet, and you weren't sure you'd ever feel steady again.

Gathering you up like a lifeless scarecrow, your limbs too weak to do anything but flop uselessly, he lifted you with one hand under your knees, and the other beneath your shoulders. Your head lolled against his chest, eyelids fluttering against the sun that shone into the clearing. 

You drifted in and out of consciousness as Viktor carried you, your mind a hazy swirl of fragmented thoughts and feelings. Your surroundings spun together like disjointed watercolours, nauseating in its jarring movements, yet peaceful, in a way. Was this what dying felt like? No, you decided, you’d felt death before, and it had been nothing short of unpleasant.

Searching for something to ground you, you rolled your head to the side, fighting against the nausea that threatened to overwhelm you. Your bleary eyes struggled to focus, the world a portrait of blurred shapes and colours. Then, like a photograph snapping into clarity, you saw one of Viktor's patients watching from the shadows of a nearby building. Eliza? Elissa? You couldn’t remember her name, but you had met her while she’d sat with the rest of the newcomers as you eased their pain.

In the span of a heartbeat, everything changed.

Her face…it wasn't human anymore. Where flesh should have been, there was only smooth, lifeless metal. Holes riddled the surface like shots from a gun, half of her golden skull caved in. No eyes, no mouth, only indents, and an expressionless void staring back at you.

Terror seized your heart, your body tensing so violently that Viktor stumbled. A strangled cry tore from your throat as you buried your face into his chest, fingers clawing at his robes like it could save you.

"No, no, no," you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut against the nightmarish image.

"Milá? What's wrong?" Viktor's voice was urgent, concerned, but you couldn't bring yourself to look up, couldn't risk seeing that metal creature again.

"Make it stop," you pleaded, your voice muffled against his chest. "Please, make it stop."

You felt Viktor pick up his pace, his arms cradling you even closer as he hurried towards safety. But the image of that caved-in mask, lifeless and terrifying like a puppet with its head kicked in, was seared into your brain. You shook your head, caught between the lingering pain in your body and the fresh horror in your memory.

“We’re almost there.” Viktor brought you a modicum of relief, though you refused to look up - still too terrified of seeing that creature once more.

Viktor parted the canvas covering of your makeshift shelter and carefully laid you down on the soft blankets below. Taking a seat at your side, he reached out with his slender fingers and brushed them across your forehead, gently sweeping away any stray locks that obscured your view.

“What…” you cleared your throat, “what was that?” 

Viktor held a cup of water to your lips, tilting your head up to help you drink. “I do not know, though it seemed to only affect Hextech. And you. Concerning, to say the least.” 

Right, he hadn’t seen what you had, he figured you were referring to your magical freakout.

Licking your wetted lips, you asked, “Why was the only thing it affected outside of Hextech, me? Shouldn’t you have been affected with the Hexcore?” 

“That is a very pertinent question that I intend to investigate.” He tucked the blankets up and around your chin and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. 

“Mother-hen,” you grumbled as he continued to tuck you in. He made no attempts to refute the claim, simply allowing his lips to cant into a telling smirk. 

Once sufficiently tucked and swaddled, his gaze returned to your face, scanning you with ever-changing eyes. 

“I’ll be okay.” You gave him your best lighthearted smile, though you did not have the energy to make it entirely convincing. “But did I…hurt anyone?”

Biting your lip, you could hear the echoes of their cries of terror as your magic exploded. Again. Had anyone been caught in the blast? You hadn’t had the awareness to notice. 

“No. No one was harmed save for you. And I am sure that once they calm, they will not hold this against you.” His knuckles traced the line of your cheekbone. “It was not your fault.” 

“But—“ you started, but Viktor spoke over you.

“Ah, ah, ah, no buts. I will not have you carrying guilt over something you could not prevent,” he said, firm, but kindness still lingered around his softened eyes. “Rest now, and we may discuss more when you wake.” 

It was hard to argue with that, and the bone-deep exhaustion from the attack had left you with very little willpower to resist sleep. 

He removed your boots and pants with practiced ease and already your eyes began to drift closed, Viktor’s touch soothing the flares of panic left over from the incident. Within seconds, you fell into a deep sleep, drawn beneath the waves of your consciousness like a shell upon the sand.

Viktor was a busy man and you hadn’t expected him to stay with you for the entire time you were asleep. However, it had been a shock to wake up and find that not only was he gone, but that Charlotte had taken his place. She’d pulled up a chair at your bedside, humming quietly to herself as she knitted what appeared to be a tiny sweater for a child. It took you a moment to recognize her - the last time you’d seen her was before she had been healed by Viktor. Her face had remained largely the same, but her body moved with such ease, her once missing arm now made of Viktor’s enhancements. 

She smiled softly when she noticed you start to shift, carefully putting her knitting down. “I’m so relieved to see you’re awake, dear. I was beginning to get a little worried there, even though the Herald,” you flinched at the honorific, though she did not seem to notice, “assured us that you would be fine. Two days of sleep is concerning, but then again he does have a rather miraculous way of healing.” 

Two days…no wonder Viktor had stationed someone here with you. That attack must have taken more out of you than you’d realized. And by the Gods did you ever have to pee. 

“Yeah, sure,” you offered her, unable to think of anything more intelligent to say. You pushed yourself up to sitting, and with incredible speed for someone her age, Charlotte kneeled beside you, offering support at your back. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked, and a memory tickled at the edges of your brain, a mother, grandmother maybe, had said those words with the same tenderness. But you were essentially a stranger to Charlotte, why did she seem so genuinely worried? 

You shrugged, your body burned the same as it always did, that lingering Shimmer just below your skin, the pain that never truly went away. But it was bearable. 

“I’m okay, just weak and hungry. And I really have to pee.” 

She gave you a warm, understanding smile, her arm linked with yours as she guided you towards the outhouse. The soft rustle of leaves in the distance and the gentle chirping of birds accompanied your slow steps. As you reached the small structure, you entered, and to your surprise, Charlotte made to follow you in. 

“I can sit on a toilet without help, Charlotte.” You leaned against the frame, tired, but sure that you had the strength to do such a simple task. 

She clucked her tongue, coyness sparking in her eyes. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, I changed and bathed many a young girl. My daughter and her friends were always getting into trouble.”

“All the same, I will be peeing on my own.” 

Charlotte stepped back. “If you’re sure, dear. Shout if you fall in.” 

You snorted a laugh. “You’ll be the first to know.” And closed the door behind you, ensuring to flip the lock, just in case. 

By the time you were finished and ready to head back, you realized with a start, that the camp was much larger than you remembered. Tents spread out further, light reflecting off a strange, circular building in the centre, and throwing it into the darker recesses. It seemed to almost have doubled in size. 

Shelters had been set up for people to do metal work, clothes spun from discarded fabrics - thoroughly cleaned - in another. Even the fields of produce had grown in size, easily able to provide enough for the residents. 

In all your bewilderment and awe, it took you a moment to realize that Charlotte was leading you towards the centre of the camp, instead of back towards your tent. 

When you voiced your confusion, she simply patted your arm and said, “The Herald wants to tell you himself.” 

Ominous though that was, the title of Herald doing nothing to quell your nerves, you did your best to keep your head down, avoiding looking at any of the passersby. Did they fear you? Viktor had been sure that they wouldn’t, but you weren’t willing to risk it. 

As you approached the circular, webbed building, your eyes widened in wonder. Intricate metallic strands wove together, forming complex and oddly familiar patterns that seemed to pulse with energy. It reminded you of the same glowing web that had arched off of Husk when Viktor had first healed him. The late afternoon sun glinted off its surface, casting shimmering reflections across the ground like ripples on a pond.

All thoughts on the strange architecture vanished upon seeing Viktor emerge from the opening that led further into the dome. A soft smile spread across his handsome features when he saw you, though it seemed rather muted. As he strode towards you, his long legs eating up the distance, it was as if someone had turned down the dial on his expressiveness - a quality of his you had always held dear.

But as he drew near, you saw the change. It was like watching a light switch flick on. His iridescent eyes blazed with life, the corners crinkling as his smile deepened. His posture loosened, becoming more fluid and natural. It was as if colour had been poured back into a faded photograph, bringing it vividly to life.

The transformation was so sudden, so jarring, that you felt a chill run down your spine. What had caused that change? And more importantly, what had caused the dimming in the first place?

Pushing aside your unease, you turned to thank Charlotte for her help, but the words died in your throat. Where Charlotte's kind face should have been, you saw only a smooth, metallic surface, unseeing eyes, closed lips, expressionless, its chin missing like it had been smashed over and over again on a sharp rock.

You stumbled backwards, a strangled cry falling from your lips. Your legs gave out beneath you, but before you could hit the ground, strong arms caught you. Viktor pulled you against his chest, steadying you.

You looked up at him, relief flooding through you at the sight of his familiar face.

You blinked.

And it was no longer your Viktor staring down at you.

Shiny grey metal contoured to the shape of a sleeping face, but devoid of any warmth or humanity, cut through the centre by a sleek metal strip that fanned out at the forehead, golden glowing eyes at the sides. Soft, chestnut waves fell to its shoulders, a swath of grey at the bangs, so different, so human compared to the eldritch face that held nothing but emptiness. It was both beautiful and terrifying, and though every part of you screamed at the bone-deep understanding of who this was, you didn’t want to admit it.

You’d recognize Viktor no matter what he looked like.

You stumbled backward, wrenching yourself from Viktor's grasp. Your heart pounded in your ears as you scrambled away, nearly tripping over your own feet in your haste. Frantically, you rubbed at your eyes, willing the vision to disappear.

"Milá?" Viktor's voice, muffled and distorted, called out to you.

You forced yourself to face him, blinking rapidly - and like a mirage dissolving in the desert heat, the mask faded away. Viktor's concerned face came into focus, his brow furrowed with worry. Beside him, Charlotte stood whole and human once more, her weathered features tight with confusion.

"I-I'm sorry," you stammered, your voice trembling. "I'm still…on edge. From everything that happened."

Charlotte's expression softened, understanding blooming in her kind eyes. "It's not a problem, dear," she patted your arm reassuringly. "I'll leave you two be. Take care of yourself, Mila." With a final, motherly smile, she turned and made her way back towards the camp, her newly enhanced arm swinging naturally at her side.

You watched her go, trying to shake off the lingering unease that clung to you like a second skin. The visions felt so real, so vivid. Were they merely hallucinations born of trauma and exhaustion? Or was there something more sinister at play?

With a hand on your back, Viktor steered you inside, your face turned into his chest, the blanket he now wore as a robe soft against your skin. If you couldn’t see their faces you couldn’t have visions of terrifying metal masks and empty skulls, now could you? 

“It's only us now.” Viktor shut the door behind you, blocking out the main chamber/

Reluctantly, you raised your head, eyes darting around to ensure he told the truth. The room was larger than the shelter you were used to, with smooth walls that curved gently upward to form a domed ceiling. A futon-like mattress rested on the ground in one corner, piled high with soft blankets and plush pillows. The sight of it made your weary bones ache with longing - even though you’d just slept for two days straight.

Off to the side, a curious window caught your eye. Unlike any you'd seen before, it filtered light rather than allow a view of outside. Soft, diffused sunlight spilled through, painting the room in a warm, golden glow. It was as if the essence of a summer afternoon had been captured and distilled into that single beam.

Your sparks, sensing your fascination, darted towards the window. They danced in the light, their tiny forms casting fleeting shadows on the floor.

A small desk sat against one wall, its surface neat and orderly. Various tools and instruments were arranged with precision, their purpose a mystery to you but undoubtedly clear to Viktor.

In the center of the room, a circular rug added a touch of softness to the otherwise utilitarian space. Its intricate pattern reminded you of the complex circuitry you'd seen in some of Viktor's creations, but woven in homely, earthy tones.

Your sparks, having completed their initial survey, returned to you. They spun around your head in excited circles, as if trying to convey their approval of this new space. Their enthusiasm was infectious, and some of your tension began to ease.

As you turned back to Viktor, you noticed a small alcove near the entrance. Inside sat a basin filled with clear water, a stack of clean towels beside it. The thoughtfulness of that simple amenity brought a lump to your throat.

This room, modest as it was, felt like a sanctuary. A space designed not just for functionality, but for comfort and healing. It was a physical manifestation of Viktor's care for you, and the realization made your heart swell.

You took a deep breath, the air was somehow fresher and cleaner than outside. It carried a faint metallic tang, mingled with the soothing scent of lavender - likely from the small potted plant sitting on the windowsill.

“Did you…” you took one step into the room, the fluffy blanket laid over the mattress beckoning you, “Make this?”

“It was a group effort, as most things are in the commune.” His chest pressed against your back and he leaned over, his breath tickling your ear. “But it’s not for communal use.” 

“I sleep for a few days and all of a sudden it goes from camp to commune,” you said, scanning the room as though it would reveal all sorts of hidden secrets.

Viktor brushed his fingers over your shoulder, catching on the collar of your shirt. “Is it not to your tastes?” 

You narrowed your eyes and shot him a glare, conveying your unfiltered thoughts on the matter. You’d stayed in much worse without a complaint - this new room was perfect.

He held his hands up in mock surrender. “I wished to ensure you would be comfortable here, that’s all.” 

“Sure you did.”

With hesitant steps, you approached the inviting mattress. Your fingers ghosted over its smooth surface, before giving it a light kick to test its firmness. Satisfied, you lowered yourself onto the center and were pleasantly surprised by how comfortable it was. It may have been placed directly on the ground, but its downy softness made it feel like you were floating on a cloud.

You flopped back, spreading your arms out to the sides, and letting out a contented sigh. Viktor’s low chuckle had you peering at him through one cracked-open eye. 

“I will take this as a sign of approval.” 

Crooking your index and middle finger, you said, “It’s missing something.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow, answering your beckoning and kneeling at the edge of the bed. “And what could that be?”

You grinned impishly, hooking your legs around his waist. “You,” you said as you tugged, sending him toppling over you. He’d expected your move, had seen it coming from a mile away, and had prepared himself. With a nimbleness you were not used to him possessing, he caught himself on outstretched arms, his mirroring grin giving you only seconds to realize that he had his own tricks up his sleeves - or down the openings of his robes, his sleeve equivalents. 

He scooped his arms around your torso, locking his knees on either side of your waist and rolling. You were suspended in midair, tilting upside down as he shifted onto his back with fluid grace.

You hadn't been prepared for the sudden impact, your body landing on his chest with a definitive thud. Your limbs flailed haphazardly, seeking something to grasp onto in the soft blankets. But Viktor was ready for your fall, and his arms, surprisingly strong for someone so slender, encircled your waist with a firm grip. As he held you tightly against him, he showered your scrunched-up face with a series of quick kisses. Your nose, your eyelids, your cheeks, nothing was safe from his affection.

“Viktor!” You laughed, slapping his chest playfully. “Viktor, stop that!” 

He pulled away, his bottom lip jutting out in a much too adorable pout that had you caving almost immediately. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you admonished, though the upward curl of your lips undermined your severity. “I have some very important topics that we must discuss, and I can’t have you distracting me.” 

He sighed, all drama and pitiful glances. “If that is what you wish.” 

“It is, you goofball,” you kissed him once, a quick peck and nothing more - how were you supposed to resist? You propped yourself up on your elbows, your face mere inches from his. Maybe you could just waste the rest of the day kissing and snuggling him. He’d been working so hard, did he not deserve a day off? But you sobered up as your questions came reeling to the forefront of your mind. 

“Did you find out what happened when I…” you trailed off, becoming quiet as you resisted the urge to curl in on yourself. “When I lost control?” 

“You should know I disapprove of you carrying that blame,” he said with a pointed look. 

You smiled sheepishly. “I know, I know, I’m working on it.” You ducked your head beneath his chin, settling. “But back to my question, did you figure it out?”

He swayed his head from side to side. “It came from the Hexgates, a…disturbance, though I have yet to find the source. It affected all other Hextech products, but why it affected you I am still unsure.”

You frowned, carding your fingers through the soft locks of his shaggy brown waves - it had gotten longer, a bobbed length that you loved more than you would have thought. “But what about you? You felt it, right? Even though you have the Hexcore inside you and I have no Hextech. Unless we count the magic I syphoned from the Gemstones.” 

A light sparked to life in his eyes, as it always did when he was thinking over some great conundrum. “I imagine I would have ended up in the same state as you, had I not been able to…suppress it.” 

You froze, your fingers stilling in Viktor's hair. "Suppress it? What do you mean?"

But before he could respond, a flicker of movement caught your eye. You turned your head, breath hitching in your throat as you saw the walls of the room begin to shift and warp. The smooth surface rippled like water, bulging outwards in places as if something was trying to push through from the other side.

Your heart raced and you watched in horror as faces began to emerge from the writhing metal - distorted, agonized visages with gaping mouths and hollow eyes. They silently screamed, their features twisting in pain as they struggled to break free from their prison.

You scrambled backwards, nearly falling off the bed in your haste to get away. "Viktor," you gasped, your voice trembling. "What’s happening?"

But when you turned to look at him, you recoiled in shock. Where Viktor's face should have been, there was only a smooth, featureless expanse of metal. No eyes, no mouth, just a blank slate that reflected the terror in your own eyes, bulging like a fish out of water.

A scream tore from your throat, choked with terror, as you frantically pushed yourself away from the bed. You tumbled to the ground, limbs tangled and heart racing. Huddled into a tight ball, you squeezed your eyes shut and covered your ears with trembling hands in a frantic attempt to silence the nightmarish visions.

"Milá." Viktor's voice barely registered through the roaring in your ears. "Milá, look at me."

You shook your head, keeping your eyes firmly shut. "No," you whispered to yourself. "You're not real. None of this is real."

Gentle hands pried your own away from your ears. "Miláčku, please. Open your eyes."

Slowly, hesitantly, you cracked one eye open. Viktor's face swam into view, his features etched with concern. No blank slate - just the man you loved, looking at you with such tenderness you thought you may melt.

"There you are," he said, cupping your face in his hands. His touch was grounding, anchoring you to reality. "Focus on me and tell me what you see."

You took a shuddering breath, forcing yourself to really look at him. "I see...your eyes," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "They're like pale rainbows."

Viktor nodded encouragingly, his thumbs stroking smooth lines on your cheeks. "Good. What else?"

"Your hair," you continued, reaching up to run your fingers through the soft strands. "It's always a mess, falling into your eyes. But I love it. It makes you look less…polished."

As you spoke, the room around you began to stabilize. The writhing faces in the walls faded away, leaving only smooth metal surfaces once more.

“Good,” Viktor praised, “and one more.”

A spark darted around Viktor’s head and nestled against his shoulder. “My sparks,” you said simply.

Your breathing slowed, matching the steady rise and fall of Viktor's chest.

"I'm sorry." You dropped your gaze. "I don't know what's happening to me."

Viktor tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes. "Do not apologize. Whatever is occurring, you are not alone."

You nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in your throat. "I keep seeing things. Terrible things. People with metal faces, no eyes, no mouths. Just…empty."

A shadow passed over Viktor's face, so brief you almost missed it. "At first I thought it was just leftover from the…incident,” you admitted. “But it feels so real, and it's been a couple of days."

Viktor's arms tightened around you. "Whatever these visions are, they are not our reality. Not now, and not ever, if I have any say in the matter."

You nestled closer to him, drawing comfort from him. "But what if they become real? What if we can't stop it?"

"Then we will face it together," Viktor said firmly. "But for now, we must focus on the present. On healing you, and understanding what has happened."

You nodded, feeling some of the tension drain from your body. Viktor was right. Worrying about hypothetical futures wouldn't help anyone - but that had never stopped you before.

“And I suspect that while your magic is your own, its original source has lingering patterns that match Hextech, making you susceptible to the surge within the Hexgates.” 

“Will it happen again?” 

“Perhaps, but I could not find any signs that pointed to trouble.” 

You hummed, mind drawn back to that moment of agony that raced across your worn skin, your magic shredding the last of your sanity. Husk had spoken to you with Viktor’s voice, and his movements had been so eerily similar it had been like Viktor was piloting the man’s body. But you couldn’t trust yourself anymore, your visions and nightmares blending with reality. 

But you could trust Viktor. 

“When I was, uh, you know, screaming on the ground and all that,” eloquent, as always, “did you, like, speak through Husk, or was that another hallucination?”

Viktor was silent for a beat, the light buzz of life outside drifting in through the closed window. 

“I did,” he said at last, “though I should have realized that doing this without your knowledge would only serve to frighten you. I apologize for adding to your distress.” 

You weren’t entirely sure how to feel about his casual statement. Brief mentions of possession - if that’s what it was, though you couldn’t think of a more apt description - had been few and far between in the books you’d read on mages back at the Academy. But they’d all had one common theme: possession never led to anything good. Then again, it had said similar things about Motus Mages, and you had yet to burn down any cities. Yet. 

“And Husk is okay with that?” 

“Yes.” A plain and simple answer for a morally complex question. Dread slithered up the back of your neck like a snake shedding its skin. Could it really be that easy? To take over another person’s body with their consent. While the Hexcore had never had your permission, you couldn’t help but think about how it had made you feel like a frog caught in an oil slick, grease coating your skin as you struggled for breath. Surely it didn’t feel like that with Viktor, his compassion and care were so different from the Hexcore’s malevolence. 

“Can you do that with everyone or just Husk?” you asked instead of spewing your unease in unpracticed words. 

“Only those who have accepted my healing, and only if they are comfortable with it.” Viktor’s hand traced absent-minded shapes across your back. “I would never force it upon someone unwilling.”

You curled your hands into fists in his robes. “I know,” you breathed, letting your shoulders release from their rigid posture, the feel of his fingers along your spine enough to unwind the knot of worry coiled beneath your ribs. “It’s just…you didn’t tell me.” 

A sudden, sharp grip on your ankle had you jolting out of your relaxed state, breath catching around a scream. With quick reflexes, you pushed yourself up, eyes wide as you searched for the source of the claws digging into your flesh and—

There was nothing there, the feeling vanishing as you made the connection. 

Your breath came in sharp pants, pupils blown wide with fear. It had felt so real, the calluses, each individual claw, the heat of your blood pooling and running down your leg. 

The sparks hopped their way over to your ankle, humming inquisitively as they assessed you for damage. 

A tender hand on your cheek gently steered you away, returning your panicked gaze to Viktor. His eyes shone with profound sadness, oceans filled with multicoloured fish, and at their depths sat understanding, the ever-constant sea bed. 

“I didn’t tell you,” he started, thumb smoothing the crease between your brows, “not because I was trying to hide it from you, but because I worried I had already put enough on your plate. There have been many changes as of late. I wanted to give you more time to adjust.” 

You exhaled, tired and scared and wanting more than anything to stop being such a burden. Though you dared not voice that thought aloud, knowing he would correct you, disapproving but sympathetic all the same.

“I appreciate you looking out for my well-being, but next time, I would much prefer if you told me sooner. I’d rather know than be surprised later on.” 

He nodded, the swish of his hair on the sheets accompanying the creak of the bed as he shifted his legs. “That can be arranged.”

You huffed, lying back down to rest your head against his chest, finding peace in the gentle beat of his heart beneath yours. Was it mechanical like the rest of him, or had it remained the same? Did it make a difference if it was flesh and blood or metal if it belonged to him? The answer was easy; no, it did not. It was Viktor’s heart, and as long as it kept beating, whatever it was made out of mattered little in the end.

You nestled closer to Viktor, letting his steady heartbeat lull you into a fragile sense of calm. But as you lay there, a prickling sensation crept up your spine. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching you, its gaze boring into your back with malicious intent.

Your muscles tensed, every instinct screaming at you to turn and face the threat. But fear paralyzed you, rooting you to the spot. What if you looked and saw another nightmarish vision? What if this time, it didn't fade away?

Instead, you buried your face deeper into Viktor's chest - if that was even possible - squeezing your eyes shut. Your fingers curled into the soft fabric of his robe and his arms tightened around you, one hand moving to stroke your back in slow, soothing circles.

Viktor didn't say a word, seeming to understand your need for silence. He simply held you, his touch a constant reminder that you weren't alone.

The presence behind you felt closer now, looming. You could almost feel its breath on your neck, cold and unnatural. Your heart raced, and you struggled to keep your breathing even.

Desperate for distraction, you focused on cataloging every sensation. You felt the rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, steady and reassuring. The soft cotton of his robe against your skin, worn and familiar. His fingers tracing patterns on your back, their touch feather-light yet grounding.

You inhaled deeply, catching his familiar scent - a blend of metal and pine and ink. It filled your lungs, pushing back against the imagined scent of decay that had been creeping into your nostrils.

The mattress beneath you, soft yet supportive. The cool metal of Viktor's arm where it rested across your waist. You listened to the ambient sounds of the room - the quiet hum of whatever powered the lights, the distant murmur of voices from outside, the whisper of fabric as Viktor shifted slightly.

Gradually, the feeling of being watched began to fade. The imagined presence retreated, leaving only the solid reality of Viktor's embrace. Your tense muscles slowly relaxed, the knot of fear in your chest loosening its grip.

You exhaled shakily, finally daring to open your eyes. You tilted your head up, meeting Viktor's gaze. No words were needed; his eyes said it all. You were safe. You were loved.

Minutes ticked by, and you remained safe.

“There is…another topic we should discuss,” Viktor said after you had fully returned to a state of calm. Had you not been laying on him, you would have missed the minute tensing of his body. 

Rolling off of him, though remaining firmly tucked against his side, you laid your head on his shoulder. “Which is?” 

His eyes - swirling between muted blues and yellows and every colour in between - remained firmly trained on the ceiling. “I’m sure you noticed that when I merged with the Hexcore, I lost certain, uh, functions.” 

Ah, you’d wondered when this would come up. Why the Hexcore had stolen that part of him when merging him and his clothes into a metal body, you didn’t quite understand. 

The sparks squealed, scattering in all directions and disappearing into the folds of the blanket. Good, this was a private conversation and you didn’t need them listening in. 

“I did,” you said plainly, pushing the tremble in your voice down with the flat side of your tongue. 

“And,” he turned his face towards you, his hair shifting to hide the hint of blush that bloomed at the tips of his ears, “does this…bother you?” 

“Are you asking if this changes how I feel about you?” Threading your fingers through his, you gave him a reassuring squeeze. 

He considered this, frowning as his eyes darted around in thought. “I don’t mean to doubt your affection, only that the physical aspect of a relationship is vital to most.” 

“Maybe, but since when have we ever been typical?” Smiling softly, you pulled his hand to your lips, placing a delicate kiss on his knuckles. “Does it change things for you?” 

“No,” he said without hesitation, “it does not.”

“Good,” you kissed the tip of his nose, revelling in the low laughter that reverberated through his chest and into yours. “Besides, I…” you sighed, closing your eyes to block out the shadow that moved in your peripheral. “I don’t think I’m exactly well enough for any of that. Nothing ruins the mood like hallucinating some sort of disintegrated metal marionette.”

It isn’t real, it isn’t real, it isn’t real. 

“I suppose so,” he said with a sparkle of mirth in his eyes. “But when you are well enough—“

“It still won’t change anything.” You cut him off before he could go further down that road. “I love you, Viktor. You could lose all your limbs, be an invisible, untouchable spirit, and I would still love you.” 

“You should not ignore your needs in favour of soothing my ego, Milá.” He fixed you with a hardened look, not angry or condescending, but resolute. 

Brushing his hair behind his ear, you grinned. “Since when have you had an ego that needed soothing?” 

When he opened his mouth to protest, a spark beat you to his lips, pressing firmly against them as it squeaked its protest. Viktor’s brows raised as he stared down his nose at the diminutive creature. 

“They’re getting bolder,” he said out of the corner of his mouth, watching in amusement as it chased his words, flattening itself against the seam. 

With the spark on your side, you too were feeling bold. “If we ever get to the point where I have…” the boldness wheezed from your pours as a redness tinted your cheeks, “needs of that variety, we can talk about it. But I don’t want it to just be about me, it’s about what you want to.” 

Pinching the spark between your thumb and index finger, you pulled it off his lips, the tiny thing shrieking its irritation as you placed it behind you. 

Viktor's eyes softened as he gazed at you, a small smile gracing his lips. "What I want is for you to be happy and fulfilled in all aspects of our relationship."

Warmth bloomed in your chest at his words. Even after everything you'd been through, Viktor's devotion to your well-being never wavered. It was a constant in a world that seemed increasingly chaotic and unpredictable.

"I am happy," you assured him, reaching up to kiss the spot on his cheek where metal became skin. "And fulfilled."

As you lay there, held in Viktor's arms, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. The shadows that had been lurking at the edges of your vision receded, chased away by the warmth and safety he provided.

But a nagging thought tugged at the back of your mind, refusing to be ignored. "Viktor," you said hesitantly, "what exactly happened while I was unconscious? How did the camp, I mean, commune, grow so much in just a few days?"

Viktor was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was careful, measured. "The disturbance in the Hexgates had far-reaching consequences, not to mention Piltover’s weaponization of the Grey. Many in Zaun were affected, and many have become sick or injured. Word spread quickly of my abilities, and people came in droves."

You propped yourself up on an elbow, looking down at him with wide eyes. "But how did you manage to expand so quickly?"

"We worked tirelessly," Viktor said with a hint of pride. "Many of those we had already helped stayed to assist others. The community rallied together in a way I had not anticipated. It was… inspiring."

You could hear the wonder in his voice, the genuine amazement at what had been accomplished. But something still didn't quite add up.

"And the new buildings? The fields?" you pressed. "How did you create all of that so fast?"

Viktor's eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw something flicker in their depths. Uncertainty? Guilt? It was gone before you could be sure.

"I may have, uh, pushed myself further than was strictly advisable," he admitted. "The Hexcore allows me to interface with technology in ways that are still not fully understood. I was able to expedite the construction process significantly."

You frowned, concern creasing your brow. "Viktor, that sounds dangerous. What if you had hurt yourself?"

He reached up, cupping your cheek in his hand. "I was careful, I assure you. And the benefits far outweighed any potential risks. We've been able to help so many. To give them hope and a new start. This is everything I dreamed of when first founding Hextech."

You wanted to argue further, to make him understand the fear that gripped your heart at the thought of him putting himself in danger - pushing himself to far. But the look of earnest determination in his eyes gave you pause. This was important to him, you realized. Not just the healing, but the creation of something larger than himself.

You leaned into his touch. "Just…promise me you'll be more careful in the future? I can't bear the thought of losing you."

Viktor's expression softened, a tender smile curving his lips. "I promise, miláčku. I will be careful."

As if to seal his vow, he pulled you down for a gentle kiss. You melted into it, letting the heat of his touch chase away the lingering chill of your fears. His hand clasped the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. You could taste the faintest hint of metal on his tongue, a reminder of his transformation, but it was Viktor and you savoured it.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, you found yourself captivated by the swirling colours in Viktor's eyes. They seemed to dance with devotion, reflecting the golden light filtering through the curious window. For a moment, you lost yourself in their depths, transfixed by how they could be both familiar and foreign at the same time.

The sparks, sensing the shift in mood, cautiously peeked out from their hiding spots in the blankets. They zipped around you both, their tiny forms leaving trails of light in the air. Their excited chirps filled the room, a joyful counterpoint to the steady hum of Viktor's internal mechanisms.

You hated to break the calm once more, but there was yet another piece you had to discuss.

"Viktor," you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "there's one more thing."

He hummed in acknowledgment, his fingers resuming their soothing strokes along your spine.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. "I, um, I'd prefer if you didn't speak to me through other people. Like you did with Husk."

Viktor's hand stilled on your back, and you felt him tense slightly beneath you. "May I ask why?" he inquired, his voice carefully neutral.

You bit your lip, considering your words. You couldn't bring yourself to tell him how deeply it unnerved you, how the thought of him inhabiting another's body had every nerve in your body screaming about the wrongness of it all. Instead, you opted for a partial truth.

"It's just with everything that's been happening, all these visions and hallucinations, I worry it might confuse me," you explained. "I need to be able to trust what I'm seeing and hearing, and if I can't be sure it's really you…"

You trailed off, leaving the implications hanging between you. The room seemed to hold its breath, the usual ambient sounds fading into the background as you waited for Viktor's response.

After what felt like an eternity, Viktor spoke, his voice soft but resolute. "If it would ease your mind, I will not communicate with you in that manner."

Relief washed over you, and you felt some of the tension leave your body. You tilted your head up, meeting Viktor's gaze. His eyes shimmered with understanding and a hint of regret. "Thank you," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw. "I know it's a useful ability, but…”

"Your comfort and peace of mind are more important," Viktor finished for you, his arms tightening around you. "I should have considered how it might affect you, given your recent experiences. I apologize for my oversight."

“There’s no need to apologize, we’re figuring this out together, remember?”

“You’re quite right,” he said as he placed a kiss on the top of your head. “Together it is.”

And you would have it no other way.

A/N: He just– Loves. You. So. Much! I will never tire of writing these sweet little moments <3 And some much-needed conversations!

You may have noticed that some 'Milas' have an accent on the a and some don't. This is on purpose, only Viktor has an accent on the a since he pronounces it differently, if that makes sense.

I just wanted to warn again about hallucinations, they will be continuing at this frequency for a bit, if you have any questions or want me to give you the specific parts to avoid please message me or leave a comment, I am more than happy to help!!

I kinda went off the 3 things DBT exercise here, I find its a good one for grounding yourself in reality :) And poor Mila really needs some of that right now!

[tired-truffle]

Even the Gods Cry For Us

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 8.1k

"If there ever comes a day that I am asked how it felt to love you, I will say only this: It feels like now.

For I will be yours, even then.

Inhale. Exhale. You've always been like breathing." - Unknown

Part 9/17

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

Warning: Hallucinations

Masterlist

You’d been naive to think the good days would last. You’d woken up that morning, your new purpose making you feel renewed and excited as the sun crested over the horizon, the sparks mirroring you with little yips and sprints across your body as you got ready for the day. Viktor watched you, a kernel of mirth in his eyes, and you kissed his cheek before bidding him a good day and making your way to the newcomers's area. You’d devoted several days in a row to spending your daylight hours providing pain relief, and your evenings and nights with Viktor - holding him in your arms, talking about everything and nothing. Finally, it felt as though something was going right. 

But the other shoe had to drop - as it always seemed to do. 

It started as a rippling in your blood, a vibration that set all the hair at the nape of your neck on end. You spun around, heart racing as you scanned for any threats. But there was none, or rather, none that you could see. It hit you then, as the small group of newcomers watched you with curious confusion - a misplaced emotion, it should have been fear. 

Like a sudden collision with a brick wall, energy burst from the ground, tearing a blood-curdling scream from your throat as it forced itself between your ribs, lacing around your heart and squeezing. Distantly, you registered the cries of terror erupting around you, but you had little space to process anything but your body coming apart at the seams, a clay pot broken and scattered in the wind before it smashed back again. Over and over, your flesh separated from muscle and bone and fused together in rapid succession. 

What it looked like to those that fled, you had no idea, but the pinks and greens and lightning blues that surged from your skin in blocky, sharp formations had you wondering if all that pain was only happening in your mind, coming from your body. Why else did it look so…alive?

Had you finally lost it? The last shreds of your sanity gone, never to return. No, it felt different than that, and while your mind cracked and slipped beneath the pressure, this did not come from you. This was something else, something bigger. 

“Milá,” you heard Viktor say, a cry of relief poised at the tip of your tongue. But when you looked up, that small modicum of relief dissolved like sugar in water. It was Husk who kneeled before you, his eyes shining an unnatural yellow hue. “Hold on, I am on my way to you.” 

Startled, you recoiled and frantically searched for footing on the dry dirt floor. That was Viktor's unmistakable voice emanating from Husk's mouth. The lilting accent that you had become so accustomed to hearing now sounded eerie and foreign coming from that unfamiliar vessel.

Husk held up his hands, his eyes losing their glow. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice this time. “Everything is going to be okay.” 

But it wasn’t, and everything burned and you didn’t understand why. Another surge of pain overtook you and you fell onto your back, arching as your muscles clenched and contorted. Your mouth fell open in a a desperate attempt to release your torment and you screamed, so deep and agonized you were not sure you’d ever be able to make another sound again.

A thin hand on your cheek had your eyes flaring open, ready to push and shove away from the perceived threat. But all that filled your vision was Viktor, face twisted with concern. His hands hovered over you, the purple light of his magic reflecting away like a forcefield had set up around your writhing body.  

A whimper worked its way up and out of your throat, tears falling in crystalline shards into your hair, sticky with sweat. 

“I can’t stop this,” he breathed, frustration in the crinkle of his nose.

You reached out desperately, fingers clawing at Viktor's robes as another wave of searing agony ripped through you. He pulled you onto his lap, cradling your trembling form against his chest. His hands found their way into your sweat-damp hair, stroking gently as he murmured soothing words that were barely audible over the roaring in your ears.

The pain ebbed and flowed like a violent tide, each peak leaving you gasping and shuddering. Viktor's arms tightened around you, as if he could shield you from the invisible force tearing you apart. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his familiar scent. It anchored you, giving you something to cling to as your world spun out of control.

"I'm here," Viktor whispered, his lips brushing against your temple. "Hold on to me. It will pass."

You wanted to believe him, but as another surge burned through you, you weren't sure you'd survive it. Your fingers dug into his arms, and had he been made of skin and bone, you would have left crescent-shaped marks lined with blood. He didn't flinch, didn't pull away. Instead, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

Agonizingly slowly, the pain began to lessen. The vibrations in your blood calmed and the pressure around your heart eased. You slumped against Viktor, utterly spent, your breaths coming in ragged pants. The world around you came back into focus - the dry earth beneath you, the warm sunlight on your skin, the gentle breeze carrying the scent of dust and distant flowers.

Viktor's hand continued its soothing motion through your hair, his other arm wrapped securely around your waist. You blinked up at him, your mind reeling. His eyes, usually alight with curiosity and wit, were clouded with worry and a hint of what looked suspiciously like fear.

“I am going to bring you back home now. Are you ready?” 

But you were already home with him. Did he know how special he was to you? How much you loved him? 

Your head bobbed weakly, unable to summon the strength to do much else. The peace you'd found, the purpose you'd discovered - it all felt like it was slipping away, leaving you adrift in a sea of doubt and uncertainty. You clung tighter to Viktor as silent tears tracked down your cheeks.

The world had shifted beneath your feet, and you weren't sure you'd ever feel steady again.

Gathering you up like a lifeless scarecrow, your limbs too weak to do anything but flop uselessly, he lifted you with one hand under your knees, and the other beneath your shoulders. Your head lolled against his chest, eyelids fluttering against the sun that shone into the clearing. 

You drifted in and out of consciousness as Viktor carried you, your mind a hazy swirl of fragmented thoughts and feelings. Your surroundings spun together like disjointed watercolours, nauseating in its jarring movements, yet peaceful, in a way. Was this what dying felt like? No, you decided, you’d felt death before, and it had been nothing short of unpleasant.

Searching for something to ground you, you rolled your head to the side, fighting against the nausea that threatened to overwhelm you. Your bleary eyes struggled to focus, the world a portrait of blurred shapes and colours. Then, like a photograph snapping into clarity, you saw one of Viktor's patients watching from the shadows of a nearby building. Eliza? Elissa? You couldn’t remember her name, but you had met her while she’d sat with the rest of the newcomers as you eased their pain.

In the span of a heartbeat, everything changed.

Her face…it wasn't human anymore. Where flesh should have been, there was only smooth, lifeless metal. Holes riddled the surface like shots from a gun, half of her golden skull caved in. No eyes, no mouth, only indents, and an expressionless void staring back at you.

Terror seized your heart, your body tensing so violently that Viktor stumbled. A strangled cry tore from your throat as you buried your face into his chest, fingers clawing at his robes like it could save you.

"No, no, no," you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut against the nightmarish image.

"Milá? What's wrong?" Viktor's voice was urgent, concerned, but you couldn't bring yourself to look up, couldn't risk seeing that metal creature again.

"Make it stop," you pleaded, your voice muffled against his chest. "Please, make it stop."

You felt Viktor pick up his pace, his arms cradling you even closer as he hurried towards safety. But the image of that caved-in mask, lifeless and terrifying like a puppet with its head kicked in, was seared into your brain. You shook your head, caught between the lingering pain in your body and the fresh horror in your memory.

“We’re almost there.” Viktor brought you a modicum of relief, though you refused to look up - still too terrified of seeing that creature once more.

Viktor parted the canvas covering of your makeshift shelter and carefully laid you down on the soft blankets below. Taking a seat at your side, he reached out with his slender fingers and brushed them across your forehead, gently sweeping away any stray locks that obscured your view.

“What…” you cleared your throat, “what was that?” 

Viktor held a cup of water to your lips, tilting your head up to help you drink. “I do not know, though it seemed to only affect Hextech. And you. Concerning, to say the least.” 

Right, he hadn’t seen what you had, he figured you were referring to your magical freakout.

Licking your wetted lips, you asked, “Why was the only thing it affected outside of Hextech, me? Shouldn’t you have been affected with the Hexcore?” 

“That is a very pertinent question that I intend to investigate.” He tucked the blankets up and around your chin and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. 

“Mother-hen,” you grumbled as he continued to tuck you in. He made no attempts to refute the claim, simply allowing his lips to cant into a telling smirk. 

Once sufficiently tucked and swaddled, his gaze returned to your face, scanning you with ever-changing eyes. 

“I’ll be okay.” You gave him your best lighthearted smile, though you did not have the energy to make it entirely convincing. “But did I…hurt anyone?”

Biting your lip, you could hear the echoes of their cries of terror as your magic exploded. Again. Had anyone been caught in the blast? You hadn’t had the awareness to notice. 

“No. No one was harmed save for you. And I am sure that once they calm, they will not hold this against you.” His knuckles traced the line of your cheekbone. “It was not your fault.” 

“But—“ you started, but Viktor spoke over you.

“Ah, ah, ah, no buts. I will not have you carrying guilt over something you could not prevent,” he said, firm, but kindness still lingered around his softened eyes. “Rest now, and we may discuss more when you wake.” 

It was hard to argue with that, and the bone-deep exhaustion from the attack had left you with very little willpower to resist sleep. 

He removed your boots and pants with practiced ease and already your eyes began to drift closed, Viktor’s touch soothing the flares of panic left over from the incident. Within seconds, you fell into a deep sleep, drawn beneath the waves of your consciousness like a shell upon the sand.

Viktor was a busy man and you hadn’t expected him to stay with you for the entire time you were asleep. However, it had been a shock to wake up and find that not only was he gone, but that Charlotte had taken his place. She’d pulled up a chair at your bedside, humming quietly to herself as she knitted what appeared to be a tiny sweater for a child. It took you a moment to recognize her - the last time you’d seen her was before she had been healed by Viktor. Her face had remained largely the same, but her body moved with such ease, her once missing arm now made of Viktor’s enhancements. 

She smiled softly when she noticed you start to shift, carefully putting her knitting down. “I’m so relieved to see you’re awake, dear. I was beginning to get a little worried there, even though the Herald,” you flinched at the honorific, though she did not seem to notice, “assured us that you would be fine. Two days of sleep is concerning, but then again he does have a rather miraculous way of healing.” 

Two days…no wonder Viktor had stationed someone here with you. That attack must have taken more out of you than you’d realized. And by the Gods did you ever have to pee. 

“Yeah, sure,” you offered her, unable to think of anything more intelligent to say. You pushed yourself up to sitting, and with incredible speed for someone her age, Charlotte kneeled beside you, offering support at your back. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked, and a memory tickled at the edges of your brain, a mother, grandmother maybe, had said those words with the same tenderness. But you were essentially a stranger to Charlotte, why did she seem so genuinely worried? 

You shrugged, your body burned the same as it always did, that lingering Shimmer just below your skin, the pain that never truly went away. But it was bearable. 

“I’m okay, just weak and hungry. And I really have to pee.” 

She gave you a warm, understanding smile, her arm linked with yours as she guided you towards the outhouse. The soft rustle of leaves in the distance and the gentle chirping of birds accompanied your slow steps. As you reached the small structure, you entered, and to your surprise, Charlotte made to follow you in. 

“I can sit on a toilet without help, Charlotte.” You leaned against the frame, tired, but sure that you had the strength to do such a simple task. 

She clucked her tongue, coyness sparking in her eyes. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, I changed and bathed many a young girl. My daughter and her friends were always getting into trouble.”

“All the same, I will be peeing on my own.” 

Charlotte stepped back. “If you’re sure, dear. Shout if you fall in.” 

You snorted a laugh. “You’ll be the first to know.” And closed the door behind you, ensuring to flip the lock, just in case. 

By the time you were finished and ready to head back, you realized with a start, that the camp was much larger than you remembered. Tents spread out further, light reflecting off a strange, circular building in the centre, and throwing it into the darker recesses. It seemed to almost have doubled in size. 

Shelters had been set up for people to do metal work, clothes spun from discarded fabrics - thoroughly cleaned - in another. Even the fields of produce had grown in size, easily able to provide enough for the residents. 

In all your bewilderment and awe, it took you a moment to realize that Charlotte was leading you towards the centre of the camp, instead of back towards your tent. 

When you voiced your confusion, she simply patted your arm and said, “The Herald wants to tell you himself.” 

Ominous though that was, the title of Herald doing nothing to quell your nerves, you did your best to keep your head down, avoiding looking at any of the passersby. Did they fear you? Viktor had been sure that they wouldn’t, but you weren’t willing to risk it. 

As you approached the circular, webbed building, your eyes widened in wonder. Intricate metallic strands wove together, forming complex and oddly familiar patterns that seemed to pulse with energy. It reminded you of the same glowing web that had arched off of Husk when Viktor had first healed him. The late afternoon sun glinted off its surface, casting shimmering reflections across the ground like ripples on a pond.

All thoughts on the strange architecture vanished upon seeing Viktor emerge from the opening that led further into the dome. A soft smile spread across his handsome features when he saw you, though it seemed rather muted. As he strode towards you, his long legs eating up the distance, it was as if someone had turned down the dial on his expressiveness - a quality of his you had always held dear.

But as he drew near, you saw the change. It was like watching a light switch flick on. His iridescent eyes blazed with life, the corners crinkling as his smile deepened. His posture loosened, becoming more fluid and natural. It was as if colour had been poured back into a faded photograph, bringing it vividly to life.

The transformation was so sudden, so jarring, that you felt a chill run down your spine. What had caused that change? And more importantly, what had caused the dimming in the first place?

Pushing aside your unease, you turned to thank Charlotte for her help, but the words died in your throat. Where Charlotte's kind face should have been, you saw only a smooth, metallic surface, unseeing eyes, closed lips, expressionless, its chin missing like it had been smashed over and over again on a sharp rock.

You stumbled backwards, a strangled cry falling from your lips. Your legs gave out beneath you, but before you could hit the ground, strong arms caught you. Viktor pulled you against his chest, steadying you.

You looked up at him, relief flooding through you at the sight of his familiar face.

You blinked.

And it was no longer your Viktor staring down at you.

Shiny grey metal contoured to the shape of a sleeping face, but devoid of any warmth or humanity, cut through the centre by a sleek metal strip that fanned out at the forehead, golden glowing eyes at the sides. Soft, chestnut waves fell to its shoulders, a swath of grey at the bangs, so different, so human compared to the eldritch face that held nothing but emptiness. It was both beautiful and terrifying, and though every part of you screamed at the bone-deep understanding of who this was, you didn’t want to admit it.

You’d recognize Viktor no matter what he looked like.

You stumbled backward, wrenching yourself from Viktor's grasp. Your heart pounded in your ears as you scrambled away, nearly tripping over your own feet in your haste. Frantically, you rubbed at your eyes, willing the vision to disappear.

"Milá?" Viktor's voice, muffled and distorted, called out to you.

You forced yourself to face him, blinking rapidly - and like a mirage dissolving in the desert heat, the mask faded away. Viktor's concerned face came into focus, his brow furrowed with worry. Beside him, Charlotte stood whole and human once more, her weathered features tight with confusion.

"I-I'm sorry," you stammered, your voice trembling. "I'm still…on edge. From everything that happened."

Charlotte's expression softened, understanding blooming in her kind eyes. "It's not a problem, dear," she patted your arm reassuringly. "I'll leave you two be. Take care of yourself, Mila." With a final, motherly smile, she turned and made her way back towards the camp, her newly enhanced arm swinging naturally at her side.

You watched her go, trying to shake off the lingering unease that clung to you like a second skin. The visions felt so real, so vivid. Were they merely hallucinations born of trauma and exhaustion? Or was there something more sinister at play?

With a hand on your back, Viktor steered you inside, your face turned into his chest, the blanket he now wore as a robe soft against your skin. If you couldn’t see their faces you couldn’t have visions of terrifying metal masks and empty skulls, now could you? 

“It's only us now.” Viktor shut the door behind you, blocking out the main chamber/

Reluctantly, you raised your head, eyes darting around to ensure he told the truth. The room was larger than the shelter you were used to, with smooth walls that curved gently upward to form a domed ceiling. A futon-like mattress rested on the ground in one corner, piled high with soft blankets and plush pillows. The sight of it made your weary bones ache with longing - even though you’d just slept for two days straight.

Off to the side, a curious window caught your eye. Unlike any you'd seen before, it filtered light rather than allow a view of outside. Soft, diffused sunlight spilled through, painting the room in a warm, golden glow. It was as if the essence of a summer afternoon had been captured and distilled into that single beam.

Your sparks, sensing your fascination, darted towards the window. They danced in the light, their tiny forms casting fleeting shadows on the floor.

A small desk sat against one wall, its surface neat and orderly. Various tools and instruments were arranged with precision, their purpose a mystery to you but undoubtedly clear to Viktor.

In the center of the room, a circular rug added a touch of softness to the otherwise utilitarian space. Its intricate pattern reminded you of the complex circuitry you'd seen in some of Viktor's creations, but woven in homely, earthy tones.

Your sparks, having completed their initial survey, returned to you. They spun around your head in excited circles, as if trying to convey their approval of this new space. Their enthusiasm was infectious, and some of your tension began to ease.

As you turned back to Viktor, you noticed a small alcove near the entrance. Inside sat a basin filled with clear water, a stack of clean towels beside it. The thoughtfulness of that simple amenity brought a lump to your throat.

This room, modest as it was, felt like a sanctuary. A space designed not just for functionality, but for comfort and healing. It was a physical manifestation of Viktor's care for you, and the realization made your heart swell.

You took a deep breath, the air was somehow fresher and cleaner than outside. It carried a faint metallic tang, mingled with the soothing scent of lavender - likely from the small potted plant sitting on the windowsill.

“Did you…” you took one step into the room, the fluffy blanket laid over the mattress beckoning you, “Make this?”

“It was a group effort, as most things are in the commune.” His chest pressed against your back and he leaned over, his breath tickling your ear. “But it’s not for communal use.” 

“I sleep for a few days and all of a sudden it goes from camp to commune,” you said, scanning the room as though it would reveal all sorts of hidden secrets.

Viktor brushed his fingers over your shoulder, catching on the collar of your shirt. “Is it not to your tastes?” 

You narrowed your eyes and shot him a glare, conveying your unfiltered thoughts on the matter. You’d stayed in much worse without a complaint - this new room was perfect.

He held his hands up in mock surrender. “I wished to ensure you would be comfortable here, that’s all.” 

“Sure you did.”

With hesitant steps, you approached the inviting mattress. Your fingers ghosted over its smooth surface, before giving it a light kick to test its firmness. Satisfied, you lowered yourself onto the center and were pleasantly surprised by how comfortable it was. It may have been placed directly on the ground, but its downy softness made it feel like you were floating on a cloud.

You flopped back, spreading your arms out to the sides, and letting out a contented sigh. Viktor’s low chuckle had you peering at him through one cracked-open eye. 

“I will take this as a sign of approval.” 

Crooking your index and middle finger, you said, “It’s missing something.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow, answering your beckoning and kneeling at the edge of the bed. “And what could that be?”

You grinned impishly, hooking your legs around his waist. “You,” you said as you tugged, sending him toppling over you. He’d expected your move, had seen it coming from a mile away, and had prepared himself. With a nimbleness you were not used to him possessing, he caught himself on outstretched arms, his mirroring grin giving you only seconds to realize that he had his own tricks up his sleeves - or down the openings of his robes, his sleeve equivalents. 

He scooped his arms around your torso, locking his knees on either side of your waist and rolling. You were suspended in midair, tilting upside down as he shifted onto his back with fluid grace.

You hadn't been prepared for the sudden impact, your body landing on his chest with a definitive thud. Your limbs flailed haphazardly, seeking something to grasp onto in the soft blankets. But Viktor was ready for your fall, and his arms, surprisingly strong for someone so slender, encircled your waist with a firm grip. As he held you tightly against him, he showered your scrunched-up face with a series of quick kisses. Your nose, your eyelids, your cheeks, nothing was safe from his affection.

“Viktor!” You laughed, slapping his chest playfully. “Viktor, stop that!” 

He pulled away, his bottom lip jutting out in a much too adorable pout that had you caving almost immediately. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you admonished, though the upward curl of your lips undermined your severity. “I have some very important topics that we must discuss, and I can’t have you distracting me.” 

He sighed, all drama and pitiful glances. “If that is what you wish.” 

“It is, you goofball,” you kissed him once, a quick peck and nothing more - how were you supposed to resist? You propped yourself up on your elbows, your face mere inches from his. Maybe you could just waste the rest of the day kissing and snuggling him. He’d been working so hard, did he not deserve a day off? But you sobered up as your questions came reeling to the forefront of your mind. 

“Did you find out what happened when I…” you trailed off, becoming quiet as you resisted the urge to curl in on yourself. “When I lost control?” 

“You should know I disapprove of you carrying that blame,” he said with a pointed look. 

You smiled sheepishly. “I know, I know, I’m working on it.” You ducked your head beneath his chin, settling. “But back to my question, did you figure it out?”

He swayed his head from side to side. “It came from the Hexgates, a…disturbance, though I have yet to find the source. It affected all other Hextech products, but why it affected you I am still unsure.”

You frowned, carding your fingers through the soft locks of his shaggy brown waves - it had gotten longer, a bobbed length that you loved more than you would have thought. “But what about you? You felt it, right? Even though you have the Hexcore inside you and I have no Hextech. Unless we count the magic I syphoned from the Gemstones.” 

A light sparked to life in his eyes, as it always did when he was thinking over some great conundrum. “I imagine I would have ended up in the same state as you, had I not been able to…suppress it.” 

You froze, your fingers stilling in Viktor's hair. "Suppress it? What do you mean?"

But before he could respond, a flicker of movement caught your eye. You turned your head, breath hitching in your throat as you saw the walls of the room begin to shift and warp. The smooth surface rippled like water, bulging outwards in places as if something was trying to push through from the other side.

Your heart raced and you watched in horror as faces began to emerge from the writhing metal - distorted, agonized visages with gaping mouths and hollow eyes. They silently screamed, their features twisting in pain as they struggled to break free from their prison.

You scrambled backwards, nearly falling off the bed in your haste to get away. "Viktor," you gasped, your voice trembling. "What’s happening?"

But when you turned to look at him, you recoiled in shock. Where Viktor's face should have been, there was only a smooth, featureless expanse of metal. No eyes, no mouth, just a blank slate that reflected the terror in your own eyes, bulging like a fish out of water.

A scream tore from your throat, choked with terror, as you frantically pushed yourself away from the bed. You tumbled to the ground, limbs tangled and heart racing. Huddled into a tight ball, you squeezed your eyes shut and covered your ears with trembling hands in a frantic attempt to silence the nightmarish visions.

"Milá." Viktor's voice barely registered through the roaring in your ears. "Milá, look at me."

You shook your head, keeping your eyes firmly shut. "No," you whispered to yourself. "You're not real. None of this is real."

Gentle hands pried your own away from your ears. "Miláčku, please. Open your eyes."

Slowly, hesitantly, you cracked one eye open. Viktor's face swam into view, his features etched with concern. No blank slate - just the man you loved, looking at you with such tenderness you thought you may melt.

"There you are," he said, cupping your face in his hands. His touch was grounding, anchoring you to reality. "Focus on me and tell me what you see."

You took a shuddering breath, forcing yourself to really look at him. "I see...your eyes," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "They're like pale rainbows."

Viktor nodded encouragingly, his thumbs stroking smooth lines on your cheeks. "Good. What else?"

"Your hair," you continued, reaching up to run your fingers through the soft strands. "It's always a mess, falling into your eyes. But I love it. It makes you look less…polished."

As you spoke, the room around you began to stabilize. The writhing faces in the walls faded away, leaving only smooth metal surfaces once more.

“Good,” Viktor praised, “and one more.”

A spark darted around Viktor’s head and nestled against his shoulder. “My sparks,” you said simply.

Your breathing slowed, matching the steady rise and fall of Viktor's chest.

"I'm sorry." You dropped your gaze. "I don't know what's happening to me."

Viktor tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes. "Do not apologize. Whatever is occurring, you are not alone."

You nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in your throat. "I keep seeing things. Terrible things. People with metal faces, no eyes, no mouths. Just…empty."

A shadow passed over Viktor's face, so brief you almost missed it. "At first I thought it was just leftover from the…incident,” you admitted. “But it feels so real, and it's been a couple of days."

Viktor's arms tightened around you. "Whatever these visions are, they are not our reality. Not now, and not ever, if I have any say in the matter."

You nestled closer to him, drawing comfort from him. "But what if they become real? What if we can't stop it?"

"Then we will face it together," Viktor said firmly. "But for now, we must focus on the present. On healing you, and understanding what has happened."

You nodded, feeling some of the tension drain from your body. Viktor was right. Worrying about hypothetical futures wouldn't help anyone - but that had never stopped you before.

“And I suspect that while your magic is your own, its original source has lingering patterns that match Hextech, making you susceptible to the surge within the Hexgates.” 

“Will it happen again?” 

“Perhaps, but I could not find any signs that pointed to trouble.” 

You hummed, mind drawn back to that moment of agony that raced across your worn skin, your magic shredding the last of your sanity. Husk had spoken to you with Viktor’s voice, and his movements had been so eerily similar it had been like Viktor was piloting the man’s body. But you couldn’t trust yourself anymore, your visions and nightmares blending with reality. 

But you could trust Viktor. 

“When I was, uh, you know, screaming on the ground and all that,” eloquent, as always, “did you, like, speak through Husk, or was that another hallucination?”

Viktor was silent for a beat, the light buzz of life outside drifting in through the closed window. 

“I did,” he said at last, “though I should have realized that doing this without your knowledge would only serve to frighten you. I apologize for adding to your distress.” 

You weren’t entirely sure how to feel about his casual statement. Brief mentions of possession - if that’s what it was, though you couldn’t think of a more apt description - had been few and far between in the books you’d read on mages back at the Academy. But they’d all had one common theme: possession never led to anything good. Then again, it had said similar things about Motus Mages, and you had yet to burn down any cities. Yet. 

“And Husk is okay with that?” 

“Yes.” A plain and simple answer for a morally complex question. Dread slithered up the back of your neck like a snake shedding its skin. Could it really be that easy? To take over another person’s body with their consent. While the Hexcore had never had your permission, you couldn’t help but think about how it had made you feel like a frog caught in an oil slick, grease coating your skin as you struggled for breath. Surely it didn’t feel like that with Viktor, his compassion and care were so different from the Hexcore’s malevolence. 

“Can you do that with everyone or just Husk?” you asked instead of spewing your unease in unpracticed words. 

“Only those who have accepted my healing, and only if they are comfortable with it.” Viktor’s hand traced absent-minded shapes across your back. “I would never force it upon someone unwilling.”

You curled your hands into fists in his robes. “I know,” you breathed, letting your shoulders release from their rigid posture, the feel of his fingers along your spine enough to unwind the knot of worry coiled beneath your ribs. “It’s just…you didn’t tell me.” 

A sudden, sharp grip on your ankle had you jolting out of your relaxed state, breath catching around a scream. With quick reflexes, you pushed yourself up, eyes wide as you searched for the source of the claws digging into your flesh and—

There was nothing there, the feeling vanishing as you made the connection. 

Your breath came in sharp pants, pupils blown wide with fear. It had felt so real, the calluses, each individual claw, the heat of your blood pooling and running down your leg. 

The sparks hopped their way over to your ankle, humming inquisitively as they assessed you for damage. 

A tender hand on your cheek gently steered you away, returning your panicked gaze to Viktor. His eyes shone with profound sadness, oceans filled with multicoloured fish, and at their depths sat understanding, the ever-constant sea bed. 

“I didn’t tell you,” he started, thumb smoothing the crease between your brows, “not because I was trying to hide it from you, but because I worried I had already put enough on your plate. There have been many changes as of late. I wanted to give you more time to adjust.” 

You exhaled, tired and scared and wanting more than anything to stop being such a burden. Though you dared not voice that thought aloud, knowing he would correct you, disapproving but sympathetic all the same.

“I appreciate you looking out for my well-being, but next time, I would much prefer if you told me sooner. I’d rather know than be surprised later on.” 

He nodded, the swish of his hair on the sheets accompanying the creak of the bed as he shifted his legs. “That can be arranged.”

You huffed, lying back down to rest your head against his chest, finding peace in the gentle beat of his heart beneath yours. Was it mechanical like the rest of him, or had it remained the same? Did it make a difference if it was flesh and blood or metal if it belonged to him? The answer was easy; no, it did not. It was Viktor’s heart, and as long as it kept beating, whatever it was made out of mattered little in the end.

You nestled closer to Viktor, letting his steady heartbeat lull you into a fragile sense of calm. But as you lay there, a prickling sensation crept up your spine. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching you, its gaze boring into your back with malicious intent.

Your muscles tensed, every instinct screaming at you to turn and face the threat. But fear paralyzed you, rooting you to the spot. What if you looked and saw another nightmarish vision? What if this time, it didn't fade away?

Instead, you buried your face deeper into Viktor's chest - if that was even possible - squeezing your eyes shut. Your fingers curled into the soft fabric of his robe and his arms tightened around you, one hand moving to stroke your back in slow, soothing circles.

Viktor didn't say a word, seeming to understand your need for silence. He simply held you, his touch a constant reminder that you weren't alone.

The presence behind you felt closer now, looming. You could almost feel its breath on your neck, cold and unnatural. Your heart raced, and you struggled to keep your breathing even.

Desperate for distraction, you focused on cataloging every sensation. You felt the rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, steady and reassuring. The soft cotton of his robe against your skin, worn and familiar. His fingers tracing patterns on your back, their touch feather-light yet grounding.

You inhaled deeply, catching his familiar scent - a blend of metal and pine and ink. It filled your lungs, pushing back against the imagined scent of decay that had been creeping into your nostrils.

The mattress beneath you, soft yet supportive. The cool metal of Viktor's arm where it rested across your waist. You listened to the ambient sounds of the room - the quiet hum of whatever powered the lights, the distant murmur of voices from outside, the whisper of fabric as Viktor shifted slightly.

Gradually, the feeling of being watched began to fade. The imagined presence retreated, leaving only the solid reality of Viktor's embrace. Your tense muscles slowly relaxed, the knot of fear in your chest loosening its grip.

You exhaled shakily, finally daring to open your eyes. You tilted your head up, meeting Viktor's gaze. No words were needed; his eyes said it all. You were safe. You were loved.

Minutes ticked by, and you remained safe.

“There is…another topic we should discuss,” Viktor said after you had fully returned to a state of calm. Had you not been laying on him, you would have missed the minute tensing of his body. 

Rolling off of him, though remaining firmly tucked against his side, you laid your head on his shoulder. “Which is?” 

His eyes - swirling between muted blues and yellows and every colour in between - remained firmly trained on the ceiling. “I’m sure you noticed that when I merged with the Hexcore, I lost certain, uh, functions.” 

Ah, you’d wondered when this would come up. Why the Hexcore had stolen that part of him when merging him and his clothes into a metal body, you didn’t quite understand. 

The sparks squealed, scattering in all directions and disappearing into the folds of the blanket. Good, this was a private conversation and you didn’t need them listening in. 

“I did,” you said plainly, pushing the tremble in your voice down with the flat side of your tongue. 

“And,” he turned his face towards you, his hair shifting to hide the hint of blush that bloomed at the tips of his ears, “does this…bother you?” 

“Are you asking if this changes how I feel about you?” Threading your fingers through his, you gave him a reassuring squeeze. 

He considered this, frowning as his eyes darted around in thought. “I don’t mean to doubt your affection, only that the physical aspect of a relationship is vital to most.” 

“Maybe, but since when have we ever been typical?” Smiling softly, you pulled his hand to your lips, placing a delicate kiss on his knuckles. “Does it change things for you?” 

“No,” he said without hesitation, “it does not.”

“Good,” you kissed the tip of his nose, revelling in the low laughter that reverberated through his chest and into yours. “Besides, I…” you sighed, closing your eyes to block out the shadow that moved in your peripheral. “I don’t think I’m exactly well enough for any of that. Nothing ruins the mood like hallucinating some sort of disintegrated metal marionette.”

It isn’t real, it isn’t real, it isn’t real. 

“I suppose so,” he said with a sparkle of mirth in his eyes. “But when you are well enough—“

“It still won’t change anything.” You cut him off before he could go further down that road. “I love you, Viktor. You could lose all your limbs, be an invisible, untouchable spirit, and I would still love you.” 

“You should not ignore your needs in favour of soothing my ego, Milá.” He fixed you with a hardened look, not angry or condescending, but resolute. 

Brushing his hair behind his ear, you grinned. “Since when have you had an ego that needed soothing?” 

When he opened his mouth to protest, a spark beat you to his lips, pressing firmly against them as it squeaked its protest. Viktor’s brows raised as he stared down his nose at the diminutive creature. 

“They’re getting bolder,” he said out of the corner of his mouth, watching in amusement as it chased his words, flattening itself against the seam. 

With the spark on your side, you too were feeling bold. “If we ever get to the point where I have…” the boldness wheezed from your pours as a redness tinted your cheeks, “needs of that variety, we can talk about it. But I don’t want it to just be about me, it’s about what you want to.” 

Pinching the spark between your thumb and index finger, you pulled it off his lips, the tiny thing shrieking its irritation as you placed it behind you. 

Viktor's eyes softened as he gazed at you, a small smile gracing his lips. "What I want is for you to be happy and fulfilled in all aspects of our relationship."

Warmth bloomed in your chest at his words. Even after everything you'd been through, Viktor's devotion to your well-being never wavered. It was a constant in a world that seemed increasingly chaotic and unpredictable.

"I am happy," you assured him, reaching up to kiss the spot on his cheek where metal became skin. "And fulfilled."

As you lay there, held in Viktor's arms, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. The shadows that had been lurking at the edges of your vision receded, chased away by the warmth and safety he provided.

But a nagging thought tugged at the back of your mind, refusing to be ignored. "Viktor," you said hesitantly, "what exactly happened while I was unconscious? How did the camp, I mean, commune, grow so much in just a few days?"

Viktor was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was careful, measured. "The disturbance in the Hexgates had far-reaching consequences, not to mention Piltover’s weaponization of the Grey. Many in Zaun were affected, and many have become sick or injured. Word spread quickly of my abilities, and people came in droves."

You propped yourself up on an elbow, looking down at him with wide eyes. "But how did you manage to expand so quickly?"

"We worked tirelessly," Viktor said with a hint of pride. "Many of those we had already helped stayed to assist others. The community rallied together in a way I had not anticipated. It was… inspiring."

You could hear the wonder in his voice, the genuine amazement at what had been accomplished. But something still didn't quite add up.

"And the new buildings? The fields?" you pressed. "How did you create all of that so fast?"

Viktor's eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw something flicker in their depths. Uncertainty? Guilt? It was gone before you could be sure.

"I may have, uh, pushed myself further than was strictly advisable," he admitted. "The Hexcore allows me to interface with technology in ways that are still not fully understood. I was able to expedite the construction process significantly."

You frowned, concern creasing your brow. "Viktor, that sounds dangerous. What if you had hurt yourself?"

He reached up, cupping your cheek in his hand. "I was careful, I assure you. And the benefits far outweighed any potential risks. We've been able to help so many. To give them hope and a new start. This is everything I dreamed of when first founding Hextech."

You wanted to argue further, to make him understand the fear that gripped your heart at the thought of him putting himself in danger - pushing himself to far. But the look of earnest determination in his eyes gave you pause. This was important to him, you realized. Not just the healing, but the creation of something larger than himself.

You leaned into his touch. "Just…promise me you'll be more careful in the future? I can't bear the thought of losing you."

Viktor's expression softened, a tender smile curving his lips. "I promise, miláčku. I will be careful."

As if to seal his vow, he pulled you down for a gentle kiss. You melted into it, letting the heat of his touch chase away the lingering chill of your fears. His hand clasped the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. You could taste the faintest hint of metal on his tongue, a reminder of his transformation, but it was Viktor and you savoured it.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, you found yourself captivated by the swirling colours in Viktor's eyes. They seemed to dance with devotion, reflecting the golden light filtering through the curious window. For a moment, you lost yourself in their depths, transfixed by how they could be both familiar and foreign at the same time.

The sparks, sensing the shift in mood, cautiously peeked out from their hiding spots in the blankets. They zipped around you both, their tiny forms leaving trails of light in the air. Their excited chirps filled the room, a joyful counterpoint to the steady hum of Viktor's internal mechanisms.

You hated to break the calm once more, but there was yet another piece you had to discuss.

"Viktor," you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "there's one more thing."

He hummed in acknowledgment, his fingers resuming their soothing strokes along your spine.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. "I, um, I'd prefer if you didn't speak to me through other people. Like you did with Husk."

Viktor's hand stilled on your back, and you felt him tense slightly beneath you. "May I ask why?" he inquired, his voice carefully neutral.

You bit your lip, considering your words. You couldn't bring yourself to tell him how deeply it unnerved you, how the thought of him inhabiting another's body had every nerve in your body screaming about the wrongness of it all. Instead, you opted for a partial truth.

"It's just with everything that's been happening, all these visions and hallucinations, I worry it might confuse me," you explained. "I need to be able to trust what I'm seeing and hearing, and if I can't be sure it's really you…"

You trailed off, leaving the implications hanging between you. The room seemed to hold its breath, the usual ambient sounds fading into the background as you waited for Viktor's response.

After what felt like an eternity, Viktor spoke, his voice soft but resolute. "If it would ease your mind, I will not communicate with you in that manner."

Relief washed over you, and you felt some of the tension leave your body. You tilted your head up, meeting Viktor's gaze. His eyes shimmered with understanding and a hint of regret. "Thank you," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw. "I know it's a useful ability, but…”

"Your comfort and peace of mind are more important," Viktor finished for you, his arms tightening around you. "I should have considered how it might affect you, given your recent experiences. I apologize for my oversight."

“There’s no need to apologize, we’re figuring this out together, remember?”

“You’re quite right,” he said as he placed a kiss on the top of your head. “Together it is.”

And you would have it no other way.

Next Chapter

A/N: He just– Loves. You. So. Much! I will never tire of writing these sweet little moments <3 And some much-needed conversations!

You may have noticed that some 'Milas' have an accent on the a and some don't. This is on purpose, only Viktor has an accent on the a since he pronounces it differently, if that makes sense.

I just wanted to warn again about hallucinations, they will be continuing at this frequency for a bit, if you have any questions or want me to give you the specific parts to avoid please message me or leave a comment, I am more than happy to help!!

I kinda went off the 3 things DBT exercise here, I find its a good one for grounding yourself in reality :) And poor Mila really needs some of that right now!

[tired-truffle]

Even the Gods Cry For Us

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 6.1k

Part 8/17

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

"It's alright," she gave him a small smile. "Saving me was never your job anyway." - S.Z.

Masterlist

Walking through the dimly lit streets of the Undercity, Viktor led the way with a blanket draped over his thin frame like a cloak, your hand firmly clutched in his. Where you were going exactly, you didn’t know, but given your lack of familiarity with the area, it would have made little difference in your understanding of your destination. You trusted Viktor knew what he was doing, and that was enough for you. 

And yet…something was off. You couldn’t place it, like a mist that surrounded you and blocked out your senses, you were left with little to help you pinpoint the wrongness. Was it you and your hallucinations - or visions, though you sincerely hoped they weren’t - that were giving you this feeling? Or was it Viktor and his newfound abilities from the Hexcore that set you on edge? Maybe it was both. 

Viktor kept his gaze trained ahead, the blanket over his head like a hood, and his crutch, warped and changed by the Hexcore to resemble what you would think of as a wizard’s staff, was held firmly in his hand like a walking stick. He didn’t seem to need it anymore, with his new…enhancements, but he kept it anyhow. Sentimentality, perhaps. 

He seemed almost…distant. Not cold or off-putting, but like he had reached a new level of understanding that put him a step above your shattered thoughts. Yet, his hand in yours eased the worry that seeped through the cracks in your mind like viscous oil. He was still Viktor, you could sense as much, that tangible piece of his soul that made him, him. 

As he led you further into the Undercity, you grew wary of the stares the two of you were receiving, or rather, the stares Viktor was receiving. You, with your scarred skin and pink veins, were of little interest to those seeking some easy coin, but Viktor, with his new body and intricate walking stick, looked like the perfect target. 

“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” you asked beneath your breath, glancing warily at those around you, huddled on the street, hoods drawn as their gazes followed you. 

“Do not be afraid, Milá, I understand now what I must do,” he said with such certainty you couldn’t find the will to argue or request clarification - though it was ominous enough to send a new jolt of nerves through your chest.

You trusted him, you did, but he’d only just woken up from the Hexcore-induced slumber, and you had no idea how it had truly affected him. 

You stumbled, your feet refusing to move as your eyes locked onto a familiar figure. Sky stood a little ways down the road, her form shimmering like a mirage in the low light of the Undercity. Her eyes were so full of light and life that for a moment you couldn’t imagine they had ever been anything but. She reached out, her fingers stretching towards you, beckoning, and your breath caught in your throat.

"Milá? What is it?" Viktor's voice cut through the fog, his hand tightening around yours.

You blinked rapidly, wiping your eyes with your free hand. When you looked again, Sky was gone, leaving only the grimy streets and suspicious onlookers in her wake.

"I-I saw Sky," you stuttered. "But I don’t think she was real. She's…gone now."

Viktor turned to face you fully, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made you want to shrink away. "Are you certain?" he asked, low and thoughtful. "I could see her too."

How could he have seen her? Was it possible that your hallucinations were somehow becoming real? Or was Viktor experiencing his own visions?

Before you could voice your questions, Viktor simply said, "Come," and continued walking, pulling you along with him.

As you followed, a new awareness crept over you. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, and you couldn't shake the feeling of eyes boring into your back. Glancing over your shoulder, you caught sight of shadowy figures slinking along the edges of buildings, matching your pace.

You squeezed Viktor's hand, trying to silently communicate your growing unease. He didn't acknowledge it verbally, but his grip tightened ever so slightly, though it did little to comfort you. The Undercity seemed to close in around you, its winding alleys and looming structures feeling more like a maze with each step.

You tugged anxiously at his arm, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end. “Viktor…”

“I am aware of them,” he said, though he made no move to do anything about it. “I need you to trust that I will handle it, can you do this?”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, lest your more frantic assertions of ‘no, absolutely not’ come rolling off your tongue. 

Exiting the alleyway, you made your way toward a small clearing amidst piles of broken metal and junk. Run-down tents lined the sides, covered in soot and debris. In the centre, a broken archway reached up towards the sky like a plant desperate for the dim rays of sunlight that illuminated the space. 

The shuffling of feet against the dirt ground had you tensing where you stood at Viktor’s side, uncovered and open in the middle of the clearing. 

“Careful not to scrape up the gear,” a man’s voice stammered. “Won’t sell as well.”

Fear lodged itself in your throat, your magic thrumming through your veins, crackling around your fingers. Had you not just gone through this? It had ended in you losing control and giving the Hexcore over to Viktor - a decision you still could not tell if it was right. As if sensing your unease, Viktor squeezed your hand in reassurance once more, offering you a calm smile that had you faltering in your preparations for the attack. 

He released you, and you swallowed a whimper at the sudden loss of contact. Turning to face the men, you copied his movement, only unlike Viktor, you took a step back as you saw the knives held in shaky hands, the growths from Shimmer consumption sprouting from their broken bodies. 

Would you end up like them on day?

Two men came up behind you, on all fours, snarling like wild animals, and you stepped back towards Viktor. 

“Nothing personal, friend,” the man said, his glasses broken and doing little to hide the Shimmer that spread across his face. “We just got needs we can’t ignore.”

The man jabbed his knife towards Viktor for emphasis, but Viktor remained unperturbed. 

“So much senseless pain,” Viktor spoke as he slowly moved forward, pity filling his gaze. The man backed up as Viktor approached, and you remained rooted to your spot, eyes darting to the men around you. They watched you warily, unsure of how to react to the raw power that leapt at your fingertips - though you were sure that they would attack should the others decide it was worth the risk. 

“What are you doing?” the man asked, dropping the knife, realizing he was outmatched. 

You couldn’t see Viktor’s face, but you watched with a pit of dread in your stomach as he lifted his hand and slowly, carefully, reached out to touch the man’s face. 

With a burst of violet light - the Hexcore’s power at work, moulded to Viktor’s will - his arm lit up, wind rushing through the clearing and whipping at your hair, your cloak.

You squinted, your eyes watering as they were bombarded with billows of dust and dirt. The man's body convulsed, his limbs jerking like a marionette with tangled strings. His screams were lost in the howling wind, but you could see his mouth stretched wide in a silent rictus of…agony?

You watched in terrified awe as pink and purple light arced off Viktor's hand in strange, webbed and circular patterns. He lifted the man effortlessly, his feet dangling inches above the ground. The wind tossed debris across the clearing, stinging your cheek as it sliced across the bone.

Blue energy flowed from Viktor's arm into the man's body. You wanted to look away, to run, but found yourself frozen, mesmerized by the terrible beauty unfolding before you.

The light grew brighter, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut, hiding behind your arm. Even then, you could see the afterimage burned into your retinas - a brilliant mandala of colour and power. A deafening crack split the air, and for a moment, all was still. The wind ceased its rushing, fading out to a low whisper, and you blinked the white out of your vision, tentatively lowering your arm. 

Thud, thud, as Viktor fell to his knees, holding himself up with his crutch, heaving for breath. Your immediate instinct was to rush to his side, ensure he was alright, that the Hexcore still pulsed with life inside him, but as you took your first lunging step, you pulled up short. 

The man who’d stood before Viktor, knife in bandage-wrapped hand, Shimmer growths coming from his warped body, was almost unrecognizable. His skin had returned to a healthy, flushed colour, his eyes no longer pink but blue and amber swirls. The growths had been replaced by silvery sinuous tendrils, much like the arc that Viktor had created only moments ago. He panted as he collapsed to his knees, his jaw slack and his eyes wide as he regarded Viktor like one would a miracle. Was this another of your hallucinations? It seemed impossible, there was no cure for Shimmer addiction, especially not one as advanced as his. But even as you rubbed your eyes and looked again, there he remained, healthy and whole once more. 

“You need not suffer anymore,” Viktor proclaimed, a tinny tone to his voice. 

The man tried to speak, but as a smile grew over his lips, tears brimming in his eyes, he abandoned the attempt. Instead, he bowed his head, trembling with relief. 

Those around quickly followed suit, their knees buckling as the full weight of Viktor’s claim filled them with such hope their bodies could no longer support them. 

Your feet unstuck, and though you stumbled forward, the would-be-attackers did not pay you any mind, to entranced by the offer of salvation before them. 

You knelt beside Viktor, your heart pounding in your chest like a caged bird desperate for freedom. The ground beneath your knees was a jumbled mess of rocks and debris, sharp edges poking into your skin. Viktor's eyes met yours, and you never wanted to look away again.

His gaze held such profound kindness, such unwavering hope, that it stole your breath away. The warm shifting colours of his irises seemed to glow with an inner light. Despite everything that had happened, the Hexcore, your slow descent into insanity, and now… this, you felt a sense of calm wash over you like a gentle tide.

Viktor's hand found yours, his long fingers intertwining with your own. The touch sent a shiver through you, not of fear or apprehension, but of deep connection. It was as if, through that simple gesture, he was sharing a glimpse of the understanding he had gained. The scars on your skin tingled in response, your pink veins pulsing in time with the steady beat of Viktor's heart.

And maybe, you could allow yourself to hope that everything would be okay.

News of the miracle healer spread like wildfire through the Undercity. People began to appear at the entrance to the makeshift camp, more and more every day, pleading for a cure to their various ills and ailments. And Viktor provided, calm and patient as their desperation made them shiver and beg. 

The first man healed - Huck, you learned was his name - became a leader for the others, an assistant to coordinate and direct the newcomers. Viktor had a limit to how many he could help each day before it wore him out, but all were welcomed, and provided food and warmth, as they awaited their turn. 

The first few nights you’d barely slept, despite Viktor’s reassurances that none of the men outside would seek to harm either of you, you couldn’t ignore the movement that flitted past the edges of your vision, a threat you couldn’t quite see, couldn’t tell if it was real. He’d even cleaned off the old, dusty tents that littered the area, fussing them with a similar pattern to the enhancements that lay on Huck’s skin. They no longer smelled of mildew and decay, but rather of crisp, freshly fallen snow, or a glass table that had been freshly polished. And still, the shelter did nothing to soothe your worry. 

“What did you do to them?” you asked as you lay together in the tent, tucked into his chest to block out the sounds and sights that caused distress to riddle your mind. 

“I healed them,” he said so simply, like it wasn’t a feat beyond comprehension. His fingers traced the scab on your cheek, the sparks glowing softly around you, humming their content. 

You slotted your leg through his, even with his body being made of metal, he still felt soft and light to you. To you, he would always be the Viktor you fell in love with, irrespective of how he looked. 

“But how?” 

Viktor's fingers traced lazy patterns along your arm as he considered your question. You leaned back slightly, studying his pensive face in the soft glow of the sparks.

"It’s…difficult to explain," he began. "The Hexcore has given me a new understanding of the fundamental forces that shape our world. I can see the patterns of energy that flow through all living things, the intricate dance of molecules and atoms that make up our bodies."

He took your wrist gently in his hand, turning it over to expose the delicate network of veins beneath your skin. The pink lines pulsed softly as if to remind you that the Shimmer remained, just below the surface.

"When I touch someone," Viktor continued, "I can feel these patterns, these flows of energy. And more than that, I can…influence them. Reshape them. With Huck, I could sense the corruption of the Shimmer, how it had twisted and warped his natural energy patterns. I used the Hexcore's power to realign those patterns, to purge the Shimmer from his system and restore him to health.”

His thumb brushed over the sensitive skin of your inner wrist, and your lips parted around a silent gasp. “And yet, I cannot seem to figure out how to help you.” Though he tried valiantly to hide it, you did not miss the crestfallen look that passed across his face like a ghost. “The Shimmer it…has a hold of your magic, of your very essence, and I cannot see a way to remove it without destroying what remains of you.”

Removing your wrist from his hold, you brought your hand up to his cheek. He sighed at your touch, pressing into your palm. 

“I never expected you to solve this, nor do I need that from you,” you said in a low whisper. Viktor opened his mouth to counter, but you silenced him with a thumb pressed to his lips. “I’m not saying it wouldn’t be nice to be back to how I was before…well, everything, but if even a goddess says it’s impossible, then maybe there isn’t anything anyone can do. Maybe this is just me now, like how this is you. All I need from you is to be with me, for you to let me love you. Can we just try that and see how it goes?” 

A smile curved at the sides of his mouth and he placed a kiss on the pad of your thumb. “Yes, lásko, we can.”

And you did, on the bad days and the good days, you were with him, you loved him, and though you spent most of your time away from the crowds that clamoured to Viktor, you could always feel his presence. Your magic was tied to him, intrinsically, instinctively, like he was the home you would always come back to. 

It calmed some base part of you, the part that had unravelled in the days you’d spent waiting for him to wake. The Shimmer coursed through you with a ferocity that burned more often than not, the hallucinations of your friends or invisible threats and terrifying creatures plagued you, but without fail, Viktor would appear at your side - if he was not there already - with a soft touch and gentle words to bring you back to reality. And every night you would curl up at his side, your hand on his chest feeling it move with each inhale and exhale, his breath flowing across the top of your head, his arms wrapped tightly around you as if you’d float away without his grounding touch. Explode in a fiery ball of panic was more like it, but you appreciated the sentiment all the same. 

Holing yourself up in the tent-turned-larger-shelter wasn’t healthy, or so Viktor insisted. When you were feeling up to it, you waded out into the growing camp. At first, you’d been concerned with their reactions to you, a mage infected with Shimmer, scarred and twitchy, but their easy acceptance and kind smiles were enough to make you misty-eyed. You worried, of course, what would happen should you lose yourself among them, if your magic acted up and you hurt someone, and you did your best to venture out when you were at your most lucid. 

It was in those short walks that you discovered, at last, a way to temper the insanity that beat at your skull like a base drum. Those who waited for healing, suffering and aching where they sat together, afraid and searching, watched as you passed by, whispering amongst themselves. 

You paused, looking over to their huddled forms, bundled in blankets, plates empty of the food that had been provided, that Viktor and the others in camp had grown from the desecrated land in only a few days. It was a miracle, or at least it seemed like one to you, but Viktor had been performing a lot of miracles as of late.

Your magic never could heal, much to your chagrin, and even with six Gemstones worth of power and Shimmer amping it up, you found yourself unable to heal even the smallest of scratches. You’d tried again and again on the one that marred your cheek, stubbornly refusing to allow Viktor to heal it himself. But only time had allowed it to scab and begin to seal, your attempts had led to nothing but frustration. While you hadn’t thought there was anything you could do for those who waited for healing, your magic acted of its own accord. 

It flowed from you unbidden, a cascade of azure light that spilled over the huddled figures like a rushing stream. The sparks, usually content to dance lazily around you, now leapt with newfound purpose. They bounced and skittered across laps and shoulders, alighting on gaunt faces and worn bodies.

At first, fear rippled through the crowd. Eyes widened, muscles tensed, and a collective intake of breath echoed through the makeshift camp. You froze, panic rising in your throat. The magic coursed through you, wild and untamed, and you had no idea how to stem its flow. Your heart hammered against your ribs as you braced for screams, for accusations, for the chaos that always seemed to follow in your wake.

But then, something shifted.

A woman with a burn scar across her face and down her neck, pulling tight across her skin blinked in surprise, her brow smoothing as the constant ache that had been her companion for so long began to ebb. An old man with gnarled, arthritic hands flexed his fingers, wonder dawning on his weathered face as the joints moved without their usual protest.

Murmurs of astonishment rippled through the group. "The pain," someone whispered, "it's…fading." Another voice chimed in, "I can breathe easier!" The fear in their eyes gave way to something else - hope, tinged with awe.

Your magic continued to pulse and swirl, the sparks multiplied, filling the air like a swarm of ethereal fireflies. They settled on wounds, sinking into bruised flesh and angry welts, leaving behind a coolness that soothed and comforted. You were not healing anything, the illnesses and injuries remained, but it was something.

A hesitant hand reached out, fingers stretching towards the nearest spark. As it landed on the outstretched palm, a soft gasp of delight left the owner's lips. Soon, others were following suit, no longer cowering but eagerly welcoming your gift.

The magic sang through your veins, more potent than ever before, yet somehow less chaotic. It had found a purpose, a way to channel its immense power that didn't involve destruction. For the first time since the Shimmer had invaded your system, you felt a sense of control, of harmony with the force that had so often threatened to tear you apart.

Movement caught your eye. An elderly woman, her frame hunched and frail, slowly rose to her feet. She was missing an arm, the empty sleeve of her tattered coat fluttering in the gentle breeze created by your magic. Her grey hair was stringy and haphazardly thrown into a loose bun, her face heavy from the burden of hardship, but her eyes…her eyes shone with a light that spoke of profound relief.

She shuffled towards you, her gait unsteady but determined. You wanted to step back, to retreat from this unexpected approach, but your feet refused to move. The old woman reached out with her remaining hand, gnarled fingers trembling slightly as they sought yours.

The moment she touched you, a jolt of energy passed between you. It wasn't unpleasant - rather, it felt like a circuit completing, like puzzle pieces clicking into place. The woman's grip tightened, and a tear slid down her cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice cracking.

Before you could respond, another hand grasped yours. Then another. And another. Like a wave gaining momentum, people began to rise from their waiting spots. They approached you slowly, reverently, hands outstretched.

You found yourself at the center of a growing circle of humanity. Hands of all sizes and colours reached for you - calloused worker's hands, soft children's palms, fingers twisted by age or illness. Each touch sent a new ripple of energy through you, your magic responding to their gratitude and hope.

The circle tightened, and you felt the press of bodies around you. It wasn't claustrophobic, though. Instead, it felt like a living, breathing entity of its own, pulsing with shared relief and newfound connection.

Voices murmured around you, a chorus of "thank you" and "bless you" rising and falling like the tide. Some wept openly, their tears leaving clean tracks on dirt-smudged faces. Others smiled, their expressions of joy almost painful to behold after so much suffering.

Just wait until you see what Viktor can do, you wanted to tell them, but the words stuck in your throat. And had you not been aware of his presence at all times, Viktor’s hand on your shoulder would have startled you out of your skin. Instead, you leaned into him, almost unconsciously seeking the steadiness his touch provided. 

“Making friends?” His lips quirked into a slight smirk. 

You laughed nervously, still unsure if this was a good idea. “Something like that.”

And when he left with the next newcomer in line for healing, you remained, taking a seat amongst the group as they began to relax. And there you remained all day, and well into the evening, until the constant use of your magic had drained you of all energy and you slumped, exhausted and half asleep where you sat. 

Your magic flickered, and a hiss of pain jolted you back to wakefulness. “Sorry,” you said in a rush, shooting the man who clutched his head an apologetic smile. Rubbing your eyes, you slapped lightly at your cheeks. How were you supposed to leave when it would mean that these people would be left to suffer? You’d used your magic in your sleep before, why couldn’t you now? Then again, that had been for one person, not upwards of fifteen.

“My dear,” the elderly woman who’d first shaken your hand, Charlotte was her name, “go and rest, you’ll do no one any good wearing yourself out like this.” 

You sputtered your protest, but she would hear none of it. 

“You have given me the gift of a day without pain for the first time in well over a decade, and I don’t know how I will ever be able to properly thank you.” She flexed her hand, her knuckles knobby and brittle. “But I survived it before, and I will survive it again, as will we all.” She motioned to the others, a dwindling crowd as Viktor had healed many, though more would arrive tomorrow with the rising sun.

“I…” you pursed your lips, guilt gnawing at your throat. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes, silly girl, we will be fine.” Her smile lines crinkled and she lowered her voice so only you could hear. “Besides, if I had a man like yours I wouldn’t be wasting my time with a bunch of strangers when I had him waiting in bed for me.” 

The blush that coloured your cheeks had you resisting the urge to fan yourself, instead, you ducked your head to avoid her knowing look.

“I’ll return tomorrow,” you managed, despite the embarrassment making your tongue feel thick and useless in your mouth. 

“I look forward to it, dear.” Charlotte patted your hand, winking once before releasing you to stumble away, towards the man who was definitely not waiting in bed for you, but still working, as was his habit. You waved as you passed him, sitting and speaking with a man - who judging by the look of awe in the wide cast of his eyes had only recently been healed of whatever ailed him - and covered your mouth as you yawned. 

The shelter consisted of an array of soft blankets laid out on the ground, and a small box of clothes off to the side. Viktor promised more was to come as time went on and more people arrived, offering their skills and services as thanks for Viktor’s healing touch, but it could have been a bed of nails beneath some rotted sticks and you would have still been happy as long as he was there with you. 

Flopping down on the bed of blankets, you groaned your relief. Your body throbbed, overworked as though you’d spent the entire day hauling around Jayce’s hammer. How was he doing? After Viktor’s visit and goodbye, as you’d understood it, how had he taken the loss? You’d been friends, of that you were certain, and you found yourself missing his bright spirit and easy laughter. Would you ever see him again? You weren’t sure he’d want to see you like this, what he’d make of it. And maybe you’d never find out. 

As your thoughts drifted, sleep overtaking your beleaguered mind, the rustling of tent canvas brought you back to semi-wakefulness. 

You grunted your greeting, flopping your arm in what was meant to be a motion for him to join you, but ended up more like a pathetic chicken wing impersonation. 

A low chuckle had your lips curving into a frown. You clucked your tongue to let him know exactly how you felt about that, but your eyes remained closed, lids too heavy to bother opening. 

“You should at least remove your shoes, můj miláčku,” he said with a sweetness that had your stomach squirming. His darling, yes that was you, wasn’t it? 

Grunting again, you kicked your feet halfheartedly, but your shoes remained firmly in place. “Ugh.” You were sure you’d never sounded more intelligent in your entire life. 

“Allow me,” he said, and you relaxed, immediately pliant beneath his slender hands. Grasping your ankle lightly, he tugged off your shoe, placing it to the side, before doing the same for the second. 

“You will be very upset when you wake up and find you’ve slept in your pants.” He was right, you hated the way they wrinkled and wound themselves around your legs, the waistband indenting your skin when pulled too tight. “Would you like me to remove them as well?” 

Yes, you very much would, though in entirely different circumstances that neither of you had addressed since…the incident with the Hexcore. How were you supposed to bring up his…smoothness down there without it being horrifically awkward? 

You nodded your assent anyway, appreciating the delicate care he provided you. You felt Viktor's fingers at your waistband, gently unfastening the button. The zipper's faint rasp seemed impossibly loud in the stillness of the tent. With utmost tenderness, he eased the fabric down over your hips, his touch clinical yet affectionate. You lifted your hips slightly to help, mumbling incoherently as the cool air kissed your newly exposed skin.

Viktor worked the pants down your legs, his movements slow and deliberate. The fabric caught briefly on your ankles before sliding free. You sighed in relief, finally comfortable enough to truly relax. A soft rustle of fabric, and then the warmth of a blanket settled over you, tucked snugly around your body.

The blankets shifted as Viktor lay down beside you. His arm draped across your waist, pulling you close. You nestled into his embrace, your back pressed against his chest. Within seconds you were out like a light, drifting off into an undisturbed sleep for the first time in weeks.

You awoke to the soft glow of dawn filtering through the tent canvas, painting everything in a warm, hazy light. Viktor's arm was still draped over your waist, his breath tickling the nape of your neck.

Slowly, carefully, you rolled over to face him. Viktor's eyes were already open, watching you with a rawness that made your heart skip a beat. You weren’t sure you’d ever get used to the multicoloured swirling of his irises, but when you saw flecks of gold within them, you felt the unease in your chest settle.

"Good morning," he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.

Before you could respond, Viktor leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, languid kiss. Butterflies erupted in your stomach, your body instantly awake and thrumming with electricity. His hand cupped your cheek, cool against your flushed skin.

You pulled back slightly, self-conscious and unsure like you hadn’t done this before. "Wait, I have morning breath," you protested weakly.

Viktor's lips quirked into a smirk. "I do not care," he replied, closing the distance between you once more.

His kiss was unhurried, exploratory. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, coaxing them open. You melted into him, your fingers tangling in his dishevelled hair. Viktor's hand skimmed down your side and hooked your leg over his hip, pulling you flush against him.

The kiss deepened, growing more heated. Viktor's teeth grazed your bottom lip, eliciting a soft gasp from you. Your hands roamed across the planes of his chest, the solid feel of the metal. He rolled you onto your back, his weight pressing down, protected and safe beneath him.

Just as Viktor's hand began to slide under your shirt, a pointed throat-clearing sounded from outside the tent. You groaned your frustration, burying your face in Viktor's neck. "Goddamn it," you muttered against his skin. Could you call it skin if it was no longer made of flesh?

Viktor chuckled, pressing a final kiss to your forehead before reluctantly rolling off of you. "Yes?" he called out, his voice remarkably composed given the circumstances.

“Herald, sir, the newcomers have begun arriving this morning, and their numbers have already doubled from yesterday.” 

Numbness spread through your limbs, your blood rushing in your ears as it drained from your face, leaving you pale and shaky. You didn’t hear Viktor’s response, but as he moved to ready himself for the day, your hand on his arm stopped him in place. 

“Milá?” He sounded as though he was speaking underwater, your vision blurry as you tried to focus on him. “What’s wrong?” 

Your mouth was a dessert, your tongue made of lead. Herald, they called him Herald. You looked down at his body, all metal and magic mixed into one machine-like form. Was it a stretch, a coincidence that prickled at the edge of your consciousness like a needle? Perhaps. But you couldn’t shake the vice-like grip it had around your neck.

Viktor's brow furrowed as he studied your face, concern etching deep lines around his eyes. "Milá, breathe with me," he said, his voice low and steady. He took your hand and pressed it against his chest, the cool metal jarringly different from your clammy skin. "Feel my heartbeat. Focus on that."

You tried to match your breathing to the rise and fall of his chest, but your lungs were filled with shards of glass. The world tilted and spun around you, colours blurring into a nauseating pattern. You squeezed your eyes shut, clinging to Viktor.

"You’re safe," he murmured, his fingers brushing over your hair. "I’m here, I have you."

Gradually, the roaring in your ears subsided, replaced by the steady thrum of Viktor's heart beneath your palm. Your breathing slowed, syncing with his, and the grip around your neck began to loosen.

When you finally opened your eyes, Viktor's face swam into focus. "Can you tell me what's wrong?" he asked, and you knew he wouldn’t push you if you said no. But you wanted to tell him, needed to get it out, to warn him.

You swallowed hard, your throat dry and tight. "They called you Herald," you whispered.

Viktor's brow furrowed deeper. "Yes, some have taken to calling me that. Why does it trouble you?"

You took a shaky breath, trying to organize your scattered thoughts. "On Progress Day, when I had that vision, do you remember? I saw that…man in metal armour, face covered by a mask, the arm on his back getting ready to fire. A vision, I think. Of the future, maybe." You paused, biting your bottom lip. "It was called the Machine Herald. I know it's not a direct fit but…"

Understanding dawned in Viktor's eyes, followed quickly by a flash of hurt he tried and failed to suppress. "You think I will become that thing you saw in your vision?"

"No. Yes. I don't know," you stammered, frustration colouring your tone. "It's all so jumbled in my head. But hearing them call you that…it scared me."

Viktor was quiet for a long moment, his gaze distant. When he spoke, his voice was soft but firm, unwavering. "Mila, look at me." He cupped your face in his hands, his touch impossibly gentle despite the metal. "I am still me. The Hexcore has changed my body, yes, but not my heart. Not my mind."

You leaned into his touch, wanting desperately to believe him. "But what if it's inevitable? What if this is just the beginning of something we can't control?"

Viktor's eyes softened, a hint of mischief dancing in their swirling depths. "I promise," he began, his tone mock-serious, "that if I ever feel the urge to don a metal suit of armour and attach an evil ray arm to my back, you will be the first to know."

You stared at him, incredulous. "Viktor, this isn't funny," you snapped, catching on the edge of hysteria.

The playful glint in his eyes faded, replaced by a depth of understanding that had you wiping at your eyes. "I know, lásko," he said softly. "I know."

Without another word, Viktor pulled you into his arms. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply. Despite the changes to his body, he still smelled like Viktor - a mixture of pine, ink, and that new tinge of iron. His arms tightened around you, solid and secure.

Viktor's fingers traced soothing patterns along your spine, each touch a silent promise. I'm here. I'm still me. We're in this together.

The world outside the tent faded away - the murmur of voices, the clang of metal, the rustle of wind through makeshift structures. Your universe narrowed to the feeling of Viktor's arms around you, the rise and fall of his chest against yours. The future remained uncertain, but there was one thing you were sure of above all else; no matter what happened, no matter what he did or who he became, you would always love him. Nothing could ever change that.

A/N: They get a little bit of happiness, as a treat. Even though Viktor's future still remains uncertain.

Will he machine herald, or will he not?

[tired-truffle]

A Night to Remember

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 2.8k

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

"It's obvious that something about her lights a fire in him. He looks alive when she's in his arms. Human like I've never seen him before. Like he's in love. And not only love, but beyond salvation." - Kenji Kishimoto

A/N: Viktor's POV from the dance in chapter 8 of the main fic: Můj Miláček.

Masterlist

He’d already regretted coming to this ridiculous party and it hadn’t been more than a handful of minutes. Why he’d agreed to it he didn’t know - or at least, he pretended not to, unwilling to admit just how much your opinion swayed him. And where were you? Jayce had insisted Viktor arrive with him, as partners in Hextech, but had been quickly swept away by investors and Viktor had been left to mingle with people he did not have the energy to care about. Of course, there had been Miss Young, but he’d ruined that when immediately after greeting her, he’d inquired about your whereabouts. Perhaps he should have had a tad more tact, but the bright lights, loud music, and inane chatter had frayed his patience. 

And all he wanted was to be with you. 

He’d ended up excusing himself to the balcony, breathing deeply in the cool night air. But even that lacked the joy it once did, breath no longer coming as easy to him as it once did. He’d seen the simmering worry in your eyes, and despite years of preparing for it, he couldn’t help the terror that churned in his gut at the thought of leaving the world - not only before he’d been able to leave behind a proper legacy, but also of leaving you. 

How could he profess his love when he was no closer to curing his illness? It grated at his lungs, made his joints creak and ache more than they already did. Every day he got worse, and still, you shone like a beacon of hope in the dark. You believed he could beat it, figure out a solution, but time was running short, and there was so much he still wanted to do with you, show you, tell you. It wasn’t fair, that he loved you with such a burning ache, but he couldn’t get the words he needed to say past his lips, couldn’t stop his limbs from freezing up every time he thought of pulling you into a searing kiss. 

Would you forgive him or condemn him for keeping it from you? And if he told you now, would you hate him for waiting until the bitter end, pulling the rug out from underneath a love that had only just begun?

“Penny for your thoughts?” As if his dwelling had summoned you, your voice broke through his spiralling imagination. 

He turned, a retort poised on his lips, but it sailed away on the cool night breeze when his gaze fell upon you. 

You were…radiant, a goddess in billowing sheer curtains, the light from the party casting a golden halo around your head. Your gown flattered every curve, the light blue colour complimenting your natural complexion and bringing out the colour of your eyes - eyes he often found himself thinking of, longing to stare into for hours on end. The silver of your layered necklace had his eyes following the tantalizing column of your neck, before darting to your wrist, and finding immense satisfaction to see the bracelet he’d gifted you all those years ago lying there - as it always did. 

When he brought his gaze back up to meet yours, realizing he’d gone longer than was socially acceptable without responding to your inquiry, the light blush on your cheeks did not go unnoticed. 

“I’ve never heard of a penny, so how am I to know if it is worth my thoughts?” He leaned his elbows against the balcony railing, propping himself up in an attempt to look casual, and not like how he truly felt; undone by your beauty. 

Your eyes widened, your mouth forming into a small ‘O’. You pushed yourself off the doorframe, slowly making your way over to him as you mulled over his question. 

“I think it’s a form of currency from my world. It’s a common expression,” you said, your brow still furrowed as you seemed to reach for the memory attached to the saying. You pursed your lips, eyes downcast as it slipped from your grasp. It never ceased to frustrate you how little you could remember from your home world, and while Viktor couldn’t help you retrieve your memories, he could help distract you from the pain of your loss. 

Viktor scoffed, tilting his head to the side and pulling your attention back to him. “Then it’s of no use, seeing as I can’t be bought.”

You giggled as you stopped before him, a sound that never failed to ease the coil around Viktor’s heart. “Not one for dancing either, it seems,” you teased, your smile wide and gorgeous, as it always was, but there was something so captivating when it was directed only to him. 

He enjoyed this, the banter, the push and pull, and he was more than willing to indulge after a rather burdensome evening. “It’s not really my style. I am, however, very good at breakdancing.”

You smiled wider, and he couldn’t help but return it, just a fraction. 

“You’ll have to show me your moves one day.”

He would love to show you ‘his moves’ though preferably not with dancing. 

“Only if you close your eyes and promise no peaking.”

“Oh, I pinky promise.” He did not, by any stretch of the term, believe you.

“Dancing doesn’t have to be a series of crazy moves, you know.”

You poked his chest, barely more than a tap, but he had to resist the urge to catch your wrist and pull you against him. “Sometimes it’s just swaying, that’s all I know how to do anyways. If dancing was a thing in my world I don’t remember any of the steps.”

It was a shame, Viktor thought you’d make a beautiful dancer, if you learned the steps. Though, he also thought you could make anything beautiful, just because it was you, even if it was messy and uncoordinated. But he couldn’t let you know this, how deeply his affection ran for you. Though as his eyes traced the outline of your lips for what must have been the thousandth time, he couldn’t entirely recall why. 

“Eh, the cane tends to get in the way, and it’s difficult without it.” Excuses, plain and simple. What was the point in having a disability if he didn’t get to have at least some perks - like excusing himself from dancing in a crowded room with people he didn’t much care for. No one questioned the guy with a cane on why he didn’t want to dance. Except for you, that was. 

“Could you lean on me? Put your weight on my shoulders and I’ll hold you up at the waist.”

He…had not expected you to offer that. Perhaps he took too long to answer, still trying to figure out if he’d heard you correctly, as you fidgeted beneath the intensity of his stare. 

“I was doing a bunch of push-ups before I got here.” You rubbed your bracelet over your wrist, a motion to calm that he doubted you even noticed. “I can keep you steady and upright. A two-for-one deal.”

“So you were preemptively planning to ask me to dance?” He couldn’t help himself, not when it made your blush deeper - he loved the colour it added to your cheeks, making you look so…alive. 

“Are you going to keep asking questions, or are we going to do this?” 

But he couldn’t push you too far, at some point he’d have to give in or he’d chase you away, and that was the last thing he wanted. “I suppose I could give it a try.” He straightened, then added, “As a test, for science of course.”

“Of course.” You tried to stifle your laughter, but he wished you wouldn’t. “Anything for the sake of science.”

“You get it.”

It wasn’t that Viktor was a stranger to romantic pursuits, he knew he could be a charming man when he wanted to be. But with you, it was different. You stirred something within him that he couldn’t fully explain. So when faced with the prospect of doing something explicitly romantic with you, he found himself at a loss for how to begin. Luckily, when he thought he might falter, you gracefully took the lead, offering your hand as a bridge between the two of you.

“If you stand there like a statue, we’re never going to be able to dance,” you said, smiling softly. 

With a deep sigh, he rolled his shoulders back and accepted your outstretched hand. He didn’t necessarily need to lean on you, but with the way his knee had been acting up lately, he would likely regret it later if he didn’t - and you had offered after all. He wreathed his arms around your shoulders and you reciprocated, wrapping your arms around his waist, stepping forward to allow your head to rest on his shoulder. 

Could you feel the back-brace through his clothes? It seemed likely, though he doubted you’d comment on it, much too polite, even if your curiosity was piqued.

Viktor inhaled deeply, your scent enveloping him like a warm embrace. It was a heady mix of florals and fresh laundry, comforting and clean. Your hair tickled his chin, soft strands that smelled of your citrus shampoo. He fought the urge to bury his nose in it, to breathe you in completely.

Your hands on his waist were firm yet gentle, supporting him without making him feel weak. He appreciated how perfectly you fit against him, like two pieces of a long-lost puzzle finally reunited.

“That’s not so bad, now is it,” you teased, your voice hoarse and sending a jolt through his heart. 

He laughed, louder than he would have had you been around others, but it was just the two of you on your private balcony, and he found himself letting go of his worries. “No, it’s not so bad, but I do believe that we are supposed to be opposite in terms of arm placements.”

You huffed a sharp breath. “I never much cared for gender roles, I’ll dance however I please.”

Ah, there was his willful Miláček, how he loved it when that side of you came out. 

He laughed again, tightening his arms and finding his fingers had started playing with the ends of your hair without his approval - and he allowed them to continue. “I am glad to hear it.”

As the music from the party drifted out onto the balcony, Viktor swayed gently with you, his body moving of its own accord. He marvelled at how easy it felt, how natural, to hold you close like this. Your warmth seeped into him, chasing away the ever-present chill that seemed to linger in his bones these days.

Viktor's mind, usually a whirlwind of calculations and theories, grew quiet. For once, he wasn't thinking about his next experiment or the looming deadline of his illness. Instead, he found himself lost in the small details of this moment: the way your fingers curled slightly against his back, the soft puff of your breath against his neck, the rise and fall of your chest against his.

As the music began to wind down, a bittersweet ache bloomed in his stomach. He wanted to freeze this moment, to live in it forever. Here, with you in his arms, he felt whole in a way he never had before.

He thought of all the times he'd pushed you away, afraid of burdening you with his feelings, his illness. Now, as the last notes of the song faded away, he wondered if he'd been a fool. Perhaps it wasn't too late. Perhaps there was still time to tell you, to show you how deeply he cared.

But as the silence stretched between them, broken only by the muffled sounds of the party inside, Viktor felt his courage waver. What if he was wrong? What if telling you changed everything, ruined the easy companionship you shared? Did you want to love a dying man? He tightened his arms around you, just a fraction, savouring those last moments before reality intruded once more.

When you stepped back, he had to stop himself from reaching for you and pulling you back into his arms - where he yearned to have you at all times. But, whether accidental or purposeful, you stopped short, leaving less than an inch of space between you. Your lips parted as your eyes met, your breaths mingling. His hand drifted to your cheek, the other remaining on your shoulder for support - though not entirely due to his leg, but rather from the lightheadedness that came from your close proximity. 

Your eyes darted to his lips and his heart beat in his throat. He hadn’t meant for this to happen, but all he wanted was to close the remaining distance and kiss you until he could no longer breathe. It would be so easy, you were standing right there, held so close, so open and—

A series of sharp popping noises to his right had you turning away from him with a gasp, eyes wide with concern. He took a minute to collect himself, but his eyes fluttered closed as your grip on his waist tightened. 

He cleared his throat, stepping back and out of your grasp. He couldn’t think straight with you holding him like that, and with the moment interrupted, he needed space - even if he didn’t want it. With that space, he was finally able to focus on the source of the popping. Gorgeous wine-red roses bloomed on the balcony railing, and a trailing vine wound its way around them, as if purposefully placed for added beauty. It was stunning, but he found himself more captivated by the light blush that had returned to your cheeks. 

He could see the flash of disappointment cross your face as you realized that he’d stepped back, but you were quick to cover it with a nervous giggle and a quietly muttered, “Oops.”

“Thank you for the dance, Milá,” he said, chuckling to try to put your nerves at ease. He nodded towards the balcony railing. “And the flowers.”

You smiled with sheepish contrition. “Someone’s going to be very confused when they clean up.”

“I’m sure they cleaned much worse.”

You giggled and the musical sound had his stomach fluttering. Gods, the things you did to him. 

“I’m going to head back in, I should probably make more of an appearance,” you said, shuffling your feet. “But I’d love to see you back in there.”

Viktor leaned back against the railing, a smirk slanted across his lips. “Potentially. The refreshments were rather delicious, I will have to go back for more.” 

A lie, he hadn’t a clue what the refreshments were like, he hadn’t accepted a single one - but the joke was worth it to get you to laugh again. You spun around, ready to rejoin the party and leave him to his thoughts once more. But his mouth moved of its own accord.

“Wait,” he called, and when you turned back, the light from inside once again lit up around your head like a halo. Divine and radiant and— “You look beautiful tonight, Miláček.”

You blushed, the red running down your neck and disappearing into your gown. Your hands twisted together, anxious in your attempt to accept the compliment with grace. 

“Thank you, Viktor.” You ducked your head, softening your response. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Though you’d tried to hide your cringe, he saw it. His beautiful, terribly awkward, Miláček. He wouldn’t have you any other way. 

With one more deeply bashful glance, you all but fled back into the party, disappearing into the throngs of people. 

He turned back to the balcony, running his fingers over the soft petals of the roses you'd inadvertently conjured. The night air felt colder now without your warmth.

His mind replayed every moment of your dance, analyzing each touch, each look, each word. Had he imagined the longing in your eyes? The way you'd leaned into him, as if you never wanted to let go?

He sighed, his breath visible in the cool night air. The city of Piltover sprawled out before him, a glittering tapestry of lights and innovation. Normally, the sight would fill him with excitement, ideas for new inventions sparking in his mind. But tonight, all he could think about was you.

Viktor's fingers absently traced the outline of his cane. He thought of how easily you'd offered to support him, how natural it had felt to lean on you. You never made him feel weak or broken, even on his worst days.

The roses caught his eye again, their deep red colour and full petals standing out against the pale stone railing. They were beautiful, unexpected, just like you. Viktor plucked one carefully, mindful of the thorns. He tucked it into his breast pocket, a secret reminder of this night, of you.

He was in too deep, too attached to do anything but love you. And one day, once he figured out how to cure his illness, he would tell you how he felt. 

A/N: In these trying times, may I present this?

[tired-truffle]

Even the Gods Cry For Us

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 4.7k

Part 7/17

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

"My bones are smoldering And my knuckles are bloody. Forgive me. Forgive me." - Aloud (20/365)

Masterlist

Every piece, every atom of your soul was ripped apart, shredded like fine vellum beneath the Hexcore’s unnatural power. The runes on your skin burned as they changed in rapid succession, pain lancing across your skull like it would crack in two from the pressure. Your limbs stretched and ached as your magic wrapped around your wrists, your ankles, anchoring you against the power of the Hexcore swirling in a vortex of blue and violet, electric charges spreading and crackling. 

Where was Viktor? He’d disappeared when your magic had consumed and drained those men. Had it taken him too? 

A metal hand, charged with blue light, broke through the vortex, straining against the force of the wind. Terror and relief struck you all at once. He was alive, and yet, would he remain so? 

His hand pushed farther, his arm, and his shoulder following, metal sparking with magic, zapped by the electricity in your current. 

“He will die trying to save you,” the Hexcore gloated. “His death will be on your hands.”

Horror seized you, your breathing rapid, your lungs burning with the charged, thick air that slid down your throat like hot coals. He hadn’t let you heal him in days, he’d weakened, and yet he pushed on anyway. 

Viktor's head bursts through the vortex, his eyes wild with determination, gritting his teeth against the pull of magic. You gasped, relief and terror warring within you as he struggled to push the rest of his body through. With a final push, he tumbled, landing hard on his knees beside you, crutch falling to his side - having used it to leverage himself through.

You whimpered as his chest heaved, each breath a ragged gasp that sent a fear tingling through your limbs and up your neck.

"I'm here," he croaked, pushing himself up to stand, crutch held tight to his side. "I will not let it take you."

The Hexcore's laughter echoed around you, setting your teeth on edge. "Oh, how delicious," it purred. "Your panic is exquisite. Can you feel your control slipping away?"

You could. Your magic was unravelling, tendrils of power escaping your grasp like water through a sieve. The runes on your skin flared and sputtered, their patterns shifting faster than you could track. You tried to focus, to reign it in, but Viktor's haggard breathing and the Hexcore's taunting laughter shattered your semblance of control.

Your mind felt like it was cracking, like a stone that had been smashed with a hammer one too many times. People flashed before you - those you cared for, Viktor, Sky, Jayce - and they screamed and they burned as your magic shredded them apart. 

You just wanted them to leave you alone, let you burn in peace. Save themselves and let you go. 

Distracted as you were, Viktor had managed to get close enough to grab one of your outstretched wrists, tugging himself closer until he stood directly in front of you.

His flesh and blood hand cupped your scarred cheek. Would this be the last time you felt it? The soft feel of his skin and the roughness of his calluses. You could see the pain etched in the lines of his face, the trembling of his limbs as he fought to stay upright. But there was something else there too - a determination that burned brighter than the Hexcore's violent light.

"Listen to me," he said, his voice gruff but steady. "You are stronger than this. Your magic is not meant for destruction. It's a force of good, of love - a reflection of you. Do you remember the first time you eased my pain? I’d never felt anything so sweet before. That came from you, Milá."

You choked on a sob, how badly you wished that to be true.

“I-I can’t, Viktor, I can’t do it!” The magic was too strong, like a tornado of will and might and an avalanche of anger and grief, it pulled you down, tore at your skin, pulled you apart piece by piece. “You need to go!”

“And abandon you?” His voice, lilting and soft - too soft for the gripping terror that squeezed your throat. “Never.”

You whimpered, low, like a wounded animal caught in a trap of its own making. “The Hexcore, it won’t stop, I can’t get it to stop.”

A laugh echoed in your ears, taunting, teasing you with its vindication. 

“I have never seen you allow anyone else tell you what to do.” His smile, so kind, so patient, always for you. You didn’t deserve it, yet he gave it freely. “Why start now?”

A dark red stain beneath his nose caught your gaze, your heart freezing in your chest, the roar of your magic fading beneath the rush of white noise in your ears. Even as he smiled, blood trickled at the corners of his mouth, crimson tears falling from his doleful eyes. You were killing him, and yet he made no move to flee. He simply stood with you, cupping your cheek, hand around your waist. His crutch, wedged under his arm, seemed to be the only thing supporting him as he stood there, waiting for you despite knowing that you were the one causing him harm.

“Please, Viktor. Please, go, I’m begging you!” you cried, eyes and throat burning, a stinging wetness on your cheeks.

“And I am begging you to fight this. I have faith in your abilities, miláčku.” Viktor leaned his forehead against yours, the heat from his skin seeping into your icy flesh. “The Hexcore does not get to decide who you are and it does not get to take you from me.” 

You gritted your teeth, Viktor's words igniting a spark of defiance within you. All you had wanted was for him to stay with you; how could you not do the same?

With every ounce of strength in your body, you willed your hands towards your chest, battling against the binds of magic that held you in place. Every muscle in your body screamed with effort, tendons straining as you pushed through the pain and forced your limbs to obey.

The Hexcore's laughter faltered, its confidence wavering as you struggled against its hold. The magic around your wrists started to give, like elastic bands stretched to their limit. Inch by agonizing inch, your hands moved closer to your sternum.

Viktor's grip on you tightened, lending you his strength. "That's it," he said, his voice strained but encouraging. "You can do this.”

With a last, valiant push, you held your hands to your chest. The magical restraints snapped with an audible crack, sending shockwaves through the vortex surrounding you. The sudden release nearly sent you stumbling, but Viktor's steadying hold kept you upright.

Panting, you pressed your palms flat against your breastbone. You could feel the Hexcore's energy pulsing beneath your skin, a writhing mass of corrupted power. Clenching your jaw, you began to pull, imagining your hands sinking into flesh, grasping the foreign entity, and dragging it out.

At first, nothing happened. Then, slowly, you felt something give, like pulling a thread from a tightly woven tapestry. One strand came loose, then another, and another. The Hexcore's hold started to weaken, its tendrils retracting from your limbs, your organs, your cells.

Hope surged within you. It was working! You redoubled your efforts, pulling harder, feeling the Hexcore's essence start to pool beneath your palms. The vortex around you flickered and wavered, its roar diminishing to a dull whisper.

But as you continued to extract the Hexcore, a creeping sense of dread overtook you. Something wasn’t right. The energy you were pulling out felt wrong, incomplete. It writhed and squirmed in your grasp, desperately seeking what it was missing.

With a sickening realization, you understood the truth. The Hexcore had become too entwined with your life force. It could not exist independently anymore. It needs a living vessel. You couldn’t destroy it without destroying its host in the process.

Your hands faltered, and the extracted energy snapped back into your body like a rubber band. The vortex surged anew, and the Hexcore's laughter returned, triumphant and mocking.

"Did you really think it would be that easy?" it taunted. "I am a part of you now. You cannot simply cast me aside."

You slumped in Viktor's arms, despair threatening to overtake you. It would never work. The Hexcore was tied to life itself - your life.

Part of what made him such a great inventor was Viktor’s innate ability to understand the subtlest of details with only a single glance. He had a remarkable knack for uncovering the hidden potential, the true meaning, of anything he encountered. He’d always been able to read you, as if he could hear your thoughts, and when you gazed up at him with a fresh wave of tears brimming in your eyes, he gave you a sad smile. 

“I feared that would be the case,” he said, his thumb tracing soothing lines over your cheekbone. “It wanted you for your magic, and now that it has had a taste of life, it will not be parted from it. But if it was within a body that did not have access to the arcane, I believe it could be…malleable.” 

“No,” you spat, pulling your face out of his grasp, swallowing back the surge of energy that flayed your spine. He didn’t need to say it for you to understand his meaning. “I am not subjecting you to the Hexcore. I would rather die.” 

And though death scared you, his death frightened you more than anything that could ever and would ever exist in any universe. 

“And I will not leave you.” He countered, wiping the back of his hand across the blood that ran in rivulets over his lips, down his chin, falling in droplets to the floor. “It would seem we are at an impasse.”

Salt, wet and hot hit your tongue as tears streamed down your cheeks. Hiccups disrupted your already scattered breathing. “But—“ a hiccup, your chin trembling, “but you’ll die.” 

“We both know I was dying already, I have been for some time.” He was right, of course, you’d felt his life force slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. No matter how hard you tried to pick up those minuscule pieces and put them back, you always missed some - more and more every day. Your power alone couldn’t save him, even with the fraction of the Hexcore you’d used. “But we do not know for certain that the Hexcore will kill me, as it will surely do to you.”

You couldn’t go on like this, and neither could he. 

“I love you.” Your voice caught in a sob around his name, your muscles tensed as you held yourself back from falling apart. How could you do this, how were you supposed to throw this…horrible, violent being into the man you loved? But you also couldn’t stand by and let him die.

“From the moment we met, there has not been a second that I was not yours.” A bittersweet smile curved along his bloodstained lips. You wanted to scream, to beg someone, anyone, to help, to avoid this fate. But there was no one except the two of you, no help to be had. With trembling hands, you placed your palms against your chest once more.

"I’m so sorry, Viktor. I’m so, so sorry,” you choked out, teeth barred.

"Don't be, Miláček,” he said, thumb painting smooth lines over your cheekbone, wiping at your tears. “This is my choice."

With a tortured, gut-wrenching howl that tore from the depths of your soul, you plunged your hands into your own chest. Searing, all-consuming agony shredded through every nerve as you grasped the writhing essence of the Hexcore. It writhed and fought, its sharp edges scraping against your bones, hooking into your organs, desperate to maintain its hold. But your love for Viktor, your need to keep him alive, burned brighter than any of it, giving you strength you didn't know you possessed.

You ripped the Hexcore from your body, a pulsing mass of energy crackling between your hands. With no room for hesitation, you shoved it into Viktor's chest, sinking into his metal flesh as if it were clay beneath your fingers.

For a moment, time stood still. You saw the shock in Viktor's eyes, the pain, the love. Then, everything erupted in a blinding flash of purple light.

The force of the explosion threw you backward, your body slamming against an unseen barrier. The air was ripped from your lungs as waves of energy pulsed outward, shattering windows and bouncing off the walls. The very foundations of the building seemed to groan under the strain.

Through the confusion, you caught glimpses of Viktor; his body suspended in mid-air, arcs of violet electricity dancing across his skin both natural and enhanced. His back arched in agony, mouth open in a soundless scream as the Hexcore's power surged through him.

The light grew more intense, forcing you to shield your eyes. The air crackled with raw energy, making your hair stand on end. You could feel the Hexcore's influence diminishing within you, but at what cost?

As quickly as it began, the light imploded, collapsing in on itself with a thunderous crash.

Blinking rapidly to clear the white spots from your vision, you scanned your surroundings. The house was in ruins, debris scattered everywhere, walls caved in. Your heart pounded in your throat as you searched frantically for Viktor. 

There - a glint of metal caught your eye.

You scrambled to Viktor's side, throwing debris out of your way like it weighed nothing, your heart pounding so hard you feared it might burst through your ribcage. He lay motionless on the floor, his body now a gleaming expanse of gold and dark grey metal. Gone were his worn clothes, replaced by a glinting and grooved metallic frame that seemed to have fused over his remaining flesh. Only his face remained human, though even that had changed - tendrils of metal crept up his cheeks like silvery vines. The violet magic of the Hexcore leapt across his body, hissing, but unable to do any harm.

"Viktor?" you whispered, your voice cracking and hoarse. You reached out with unsteady hands, afraid to touch him, afraid of what you might not feel. But as your fingers brush his chest, you detect the faintest rise and fall. He was breathing. He was alive.

A cry of relief, quickly followed by another, and another, until you were weeping uncontrollably over his limp form. You gathered him into your arms, cradling his head against your chest, uncaring of the cold metal pressed against your skin. His breath puffed against your collarbone, each tiny exhale a miracle. The sparks, ever-present, danced around you both, their light pulsing in time with your broken bawling.

Time lost all meaning as you sat there, holding Viktor, watching for any sign of consciousness. Minutes blended into hours, and hours into days. You drifted in and out of awareness, your exhausted mind unable to fully process the magnitude of what had happened, caught in a haze of disbelief and grief.

Would he ever wake up? Or had you sent him into an endless slumber?

To make it all worse, Viktor was not the only one affected by the transfer of power. Where the Hexcore had once been, Shimmer took its place. It had lain dormant, fuelling the Hexcore so that it did not bother you, but without an outlet, it sought another avenue to consume. 

You. 

Try as you might to hold onto the last vestiges of your sanity, without anything but Viktor’s quietly humming body to anchor you, you began to drift away. 

You did not eat, you barely drank. Your body was stiff and cramped from sitting in the same position for so long, but you refused to leave his side, despite the sparks pulling at the hem of your cloak. The world outside that room ceased to exist. There was only you, Viktor, the sparks, and the agonizing wait for him to open his eyes. At some point, you’d wrapped him up in the blankets, though you couldn’t remember when, and laid his now twisted and warped crutch at his side in case he needed it.

Yet even then, your mind refused to allow you peace. Going through the same motions over and over again, with a relentlessness that seemed never-ending.

You blinked, and the room was filled with shimmering butterflies. Their iridescent wings caught the light, casting rainbows across Viktor's body. You reached out, mesmerized, only for them to dissolve into mist at your touch. A sharp crack echoed behind you and you whirled around, heart racing, magic crackling at your fingertips. But there was nothing there - just shadows dancing on the wall.

Sky's laughter rang out, clear as a bell. "Over here!" she called. You scrambled to your feet, nearly tripping over Viktor in your haste. She was right there, by the door, waving and smiling just as she had when she’d lived. She’d died, hadn’t she? The fog in your mind wouldn’t part, and you didn’t care. She was your friend, and you needed her now more than ever. You ran towards her, arms outstretched, but just as you reached her, she faded away like smoke. Your hands grasping at empty air and you choked back a cry.

A hand landed on your shoulder and you lashed out, a bolt of wild magic flying from your palm. It sizzled past Jayce's ear, singeing his hair. He looked at you with furrowed brows, mouth moving, but you couldn’t hear his words. You blinked, and he was gone too, leaving you alone again.

You stumbled back to Viktor, collapsing beside him. His face was peaceful, human, the face you fell in love with. But as you watched, it shifted. Metal crept across his skin, covering his features until all that was left was a cold, expressionless mask, no flesh left, unblinking golden eyes. You screamed, scrambling backward, your nails scraping against the floor. You blinked rapidly, and his face was human again, then metal, then human. Like you were spinning around and around in circles, nausea churned in your stomach, bile writhing up your throat.

A shadow flitted across your vision and you jumped, whirling to face this new threat. Your magic surged, ready to defend, but it was just a piece of paper caught in a draft. You laughed, the sound high and hysterical, bordering on a sob.

The remaining walls seemed to breathe, expanding and contracting like lungs. You pressed your hands against your eyes, trying to block out the impossible sights. When you looked again, everything was normal. But for how long it would remain so, you did not know.

How many times had you gone through those hallucinations? Were they even hallucinations, or rather visions? You couldn’t tell them apart.

You curled up next to Viktor, clinging to him like he was a buoy and you were adrift at sea. His steady breathing was the only constant in your fracturing world. You closed your eyes, praying for sleep, for sanity, for anything to make the hallucinations stop. But even in darkness, the visions came, unrelenting and terrifying.

Sometimes, in rare periods of lucidity, you found yourself talking to him, your voice raspy and barely audible. You told him about the sunlight filtering through the broken windows, painting patterns on the floor. You described the way the dust specks danced in the air, stirred by your breath and his. You confessed your fears, your hopes, your unwavering love.

Other times, you simply sat in silence, your fingers tracing the new contours of his face. You memorized every detail - the way the metal seamlessly melded with his skin, the soft whir of unseen mechanisms keeping him alive. His eyelids fluttered occasionally, rapid movements beneath delicate skin that gave you hope he was dreaming, that somewhere in there, he was still Viktor.

But the hallucinations always had a way of worming themselves back in, of striking fear into your heart. Of making you feel horribly, and completely alone.

Curling in on yourself, your head tucked between your knees, you rocked, back and forth, back and forth. It’s not real, you told yourself. But it felt so real, tangible in a way that nothing else had ever been. Your friends, Viktor, they were all a part of you, and seeing them as they were before everything changed, even fleetingly, made the chasm of your grief open wider. You’d only just managed to help Viktor survive, and then he’d been taken so cruelly from you, and by your own hand. 

No, he was alive, he was breathing beside you, wasn’t he? You couldn’t look, couldn’t bring yourself to check. For if he wasn’t, if he truly had ceased to breathe, you were not sure you’d be able to stop yourself from taking the whole of Runeterra down in your anguish. 

“Milá.” Though hoarse and metallic in quality, you would recognize his voice anywhere. But your mind had been playing so many tricks on you as of late, to allow yourself to believe only for it to be torn away when you looked up to find him unmoving…

“Milá,” he said again, this time with more force. You clutched at the sides of your head, pulling on your hair, pinpricks of pain shooting across your scalp. 

Go away, go away, go—

The floor creaked, the shifting of metal on wood. “So soon? I would have thought you’d be slightly more excited to see me awake.”

One moment you were curled in on yourself, tearing at your hair like you could pull the distressing thoughts from your skull, and the next, you were launching yourself toward Viktor, who had just propped himself up into a sitting position. You flung your arms around his neck, taking in deep gasps of air as your hands gripped onto his head, his back, his hair - anything to feel that this was real.

“Is it really you?” Even to your ears, your voice sounded pitiful, hoarse like you’d been screaming for hours - had you? You couldn’t recall. 

Viktor chuckled, that sweet, beautiful sound that always set your heart to singing. “Who else would I be?” 

Pulling back, you held his face in your hands, Shimmer, pink and vibrant coursing through the veins in your arms. The sparks darted down your shoulders, bouncing over each other until they reached Viktor. They trailed across his cheeks, leaving a warm, glowing trail, before coming to rest against his neck like tiny fireflies snuggling against him.

He had changed, yes, but he was still Viktor. 

“I was so afraid that you’d…” You swallowed thickly, death sitting heavily on your tongue. 

His hands settled themselves on your hips, pulling you towards him. “I was fairly certain I would survive, but I am sorry to have worried you. If we had been given more time, perhaps we could have figured out a, ah, safer way.” 

You laughed, too shrill to be anything but hysterical. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

You crashed your lips against his, tears streaming down your face as you poured every ounce of fear, relief, and love into the kiss. His lips were warm and soft, the taste of salt tears mingling with the familiar sweetness of Viktor, and you drank it in greedily, desperate to convince yourself that this was true.

Your hands roamed over his face, tracing the delicate patterns of silver and gold that adorned his cheeks. They were smooth beneath your fingertips, almost silky, and you marvelled at how seamlessly they blended with his skin. Viktor's hands tightened on your hips, pulling you closer until you were practically in his lap. The sparks danced around you both, creating a shimmering cocoon of blue light.

As you broke apart for air, a sob pushed past your teeth. You rested your forehead against his, your noses brushing. His breath fanned across your face, warm and alive, and you closed your eyes, savouring the feeling. Your tears fell freely, landing on his cheeks and sliding down the metallic edges.

“How do you feel?” you asked, breathless, but needing to know. 

Viktor's eyes met yours, and you were struck by the suddenness of seeing their iridescent colouring, shifting and swirling like a muted rainbow. "I feel…alive," he said, his voice filled with both wonder and uncertainty. "It's as if every nerve ending is singing, every cell vibrating with energy. The Hexcore, it's not just a part of me now - it's become me."

You watched, transfixed, as he flexed his fingers, tiny jolts of magic dancing between the joints - no longer blue from your magic, but a vibrant shade of violet from the Hexcore.

"I can sense everything," he continued, his forehead creasing in concentration. "The air currents in the room, the minute vibrations in the floor, even the electrical impulses in your body. It's overwhelming, but also exhilarating."

"The pain is gone," he said, a note of disbelief in his voice. "For the first time in years, I feel no pain. But more than that, I feel…whole. Complete. As if this is what I was always meant to become. A final evolution, if you would.”

Your heart swelled with relief at Viktor's words, but a nagging worry still gnawed at the edges of your mind - something wasn’t right, but you couldn’t figure out what exactly. The Shimmer coursing through your veins pulsed erratically, sending sparks skittering across your skin.

His gaze returned to you, filled with worry that you could see like waves lapping at the shores of his thoughts. "And you, miláčku, something is different about you.”

"I'm…I'm not sure what’s happening," you admitted, your voice shaky, afraid to admit your fears. "Everything feels so strange. Like I'm both here and not here at the same time." You gestured vaguely at the room around you. "I keep seeing things that aren't real. Or maybe they are? I can't tell anymore."

Viktor frowned, his new iridescent eyes scanning your face intently. "What do you see?"

You laughed, a brittle sound that bordered on panic. "Oh, you know, the usual. Butterflies made of light. Sky calling for me. Jayce trying to talk to me. The walls breathing." You paused, swallowing hard. "Your face turning into a metal mask.”

His eyes softened around the corners. "Ah, I see. The Shimmer is affecting you more strongly now that the Hexcore is gone, correct?"

You nodded, grateful he understood without you having to explain further. "I don't know what's real anymore, Viktor. I'm…scared."

Viktor's arms encircled you, pulling you to rest against his chest. The cool metal was so different from his warm face pressed against your hair. "I'm real," he murmured, his voice a soothing rumble. "This, us, right here - it's real."

You clung to him, trembling. The Shimmer in your veins pulsed again, sending a surge of disorientation through you. But Viktor's steady heartbeat anchored you, a rhythm to focus on, to distract you from yourself.

"I will try to help," Viktor said softly. He glanced around at the ruined walls, the floorboards stained with traces of your magic, of the Hexcore, his own blood. It was a miracle it was still standing, and you were sure you would have been attacked had it not been for the wards you’d put up. 

You sucked your lips between your teeth, staring at the electric blue wall surrounding the house. When had you done that? 

“But not here. We should go. It is no longer safe for us.” He looked towards the wall that you’d thrown the attackers against. “If it ever was.” 

“I’m sorry, Viktor,” you tucked your chin to your chest, “this was your childhood home and I…” Ruined it like everything else you touched. 

Hooking his index finger below your chin, he angled your face up towards his. “It is just a place. My home is with you.” 

Such a sweet, simple statement made your teeth ache. The sparks that had nestled into his chest glowed their approval, emitting light humming noises, creating a high-pitched harmony. 

You placed a kiss against his palm, the cool metal greeting your lips with a spark that made them tingle. “Then we go together.” 

He smiled, soft and crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Always.”

When you left that house behind, your hand tucked tightly into Viktor’s, you prayed to whatever gods were listening that you hadn’t made the wrong choice, that giving the Hexcore to Viktor had been the correct option. 

But if it was right, why did you feel a deep sense of dread clinging to your heart like a thick layer of frost? 

Next Chapter

A/N: And you're on to a new destination!! Is everyone ready for Jesus Viktor?

[tired-truffle]

Even the Gods Cry For Us

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 3k

Part 6/17

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

"I am not a creature that was born. I am a fire that was set." - Amy King

Warnings: Descriptions of throwing up.

Masterlist

“Could you…remove the Hexcore?” 

You lifted your head, unsure if you’d heard him correctly or if your ears were playing tricks on you, again. 

“What?” 

“If it was absorbed, theoretically it could be extracted. Though it may require specific methods, it could be worth investigation.” He rubbed his chin, his gaze focused on something unseen. 

“I…guess so, but I have no idea how. And then I couldn’t use it to heal you.” 

“But it would not be putting you at risk,” he countered, hands folded together in his lap, legs stretched out. You’d bundled yourself in blankets as the evening chill set in, that he was so unaffected was…strange, but not necessarily bad. 

“I’m not trading my safety for yours.” The argument was tired, going around and around in the same circles, neither of you willing to budge after your bout of sickness. Viktor remained convinced that it was magic-induced and outright refused to allow you to try again. That he was entertaining anything to do with you and the Hexcore was a welcome improvement, but you didn’t love the direction it was heading. 

A spark hopped across the ground and disappeared into the leg of his pants. “It is entirely theoretical.” He pulled the spark out of his pant leg, setting it down on his knee where it seemed to happily glow. “But given our current, hm, situation, I thought it worthy of suggestion.”

You worried your bottom lip between your teeth. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.” 

“Neither would I, but we can think about it, yes?” And when he tilted his head, his eyes wide and curious as he smiled softly at you, a warmth bloomed within your chest. 

“Nothing wrong with thinking.” You grinned, the sparks jumping from your shoulders and bouncing around the blanket, shrieking their approval. Or disapproval, it was difficult to tell. 

Thinking…well, even if the Shimmer had turned your brain into mush, keeping your emotions in check and your magic at bay was a constant distraction, requiring active thought and supervision. While you tried your best to dedicate time to figuring out how to remove the Hexcore from your body, the moment you acknowledged its existence, the whispers would begin again. 

The sun had set and risen again, making a full day since Viktor had broached the subject - and you were no closer to solving anything.

Each time you tried to focus on it, your mind shied away. Your frustration grew with each passing moment, feeling like a helpless child struggling to grasp a concept beyond their understanding.

And when you were frustrated, so too were the sparks. They jumped and darted around, buzzing like bees and radiating bright light as they tickled and bothered both you and Viktor. He seemed unfazed by their antics, his curiosity piqued instead. But for you, the sparks were aggravatingly close to pushing you over a precarious edge that you had been desperately trying to avoid.

When a spark all but slapped you in the face, it took one blink for the floorboards beneath your feet to shatter with a deafening bang, splinters and shards flying in all directions.

Where you had once been standing on solid ground, open air had taken its place. Time seemed to freeze as you found yourself suspended in space, like a character in a cartoon who had unwittingly run off the edge of a cliff. But this was no slapstick comedy – you had shattered the floor beneath you, leaving behind a gaping hole that offered no hope for you to grab the edges. 

Time resumed, and you fell like a ragdoll, too shocked to shriek. The ceiling may not have been terribly high, but it meant that you had limited space to brace yourself and no time to react, landing hard on your side with a definitive thud. In an attempt to shield your head, you managed to get one arm beneath you, but it offered little protection against the impact. Like a vacuum had sucked the air from your lungs, the force of the blow knocked the wind out of you, leaving you gasping and struggling for breath, back arched as your body strained. And fuck, did your side ever hurt. Though thankfully it was on your unburned side, the wounds from before still pulsing with raw sensitivity. Despite their miraculous healing, you knew it wouldn't be good for them to be tested so soon. But the pain radiated up your ribcage, through your arms, and down your legs, protesting the abuse you’d put it through, however accidental. 

“Milá!” Viktor’s head popped over the edge of the hole, eyes wide with concern. “Are you alright?”

You groaned your response, dizzy from the pain, your tongue thick and unable to form a coherent response. Footsteps creaked along the floorboards - the ones you hadn’t destroyed - as Viktor hurriedly made his way to you. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the sparks crawl up your body, making mournful noises as though this was not their fault. But it wasn’t fair of you to blame them entirely, if you hadn’t gotten frustrated it wouldn’t have set them off, and if you’d had better control of your magic, you wouldn’t have blown a hole in the floor. 

Viktor was kneeling beside you before you could decide whether or not you wanted to flick the sparks away in petulant punishment, brushing the hair from your face. Such deep concern filled his features, and you managed to weakly flop your hand onto his legs in what was meant to be a reassuring gesture but felt more like the death throes of an injured fish. 

“I’m okay,” you wheezed as air returned to your lungs, your body gulping it down greedily.

His eyes narrowed, unconvinced. “I will believe that when I see it.” 

“Fair enough.” The wheeze had lessened, but as you picked yourself up off the floor, Viktor adding your efforts with gentle hands, it refused to abate completely. “If I don’t lose my mind on my own, these things are gonna do it for me.” 

Your eyes shot daggers at the sparks, their tiny, flickering forms illuminating your grimace of pain. Your glare proved effective, and the sparks scurried away, seeking refuge within the folds of Viktor's cloak, emitting faint whimpers of fear as they went.

“They did not shred the floor, lǎsko.” Though sweet in his reminder, you could hear a hint of amusement in his voice. How rude, you’d fallen through the floor and he was trying not to laugh at you. 

“You sure lǎsko doesn’t mean clumsy idiot? Seems apt, in this case.”

“You may be clumsy, but you are no idiot,” he said, holding your hand tenderly in his. 

You huffed, ignoring the slight blush that accompanied his touch. “You have two, technically three, names for me but I don’t have any for you.”

“I do have a name, you know,” he said with a cheeky grin that had you rolling your eyes. 

“Yes, Viktor, but not a pet name.” 

“That is good as I am not an animal one keeps in their home for companionship.” 

You choked on a laugh that stuck itself to the back of your tongue. “You know what I mean.” 

“I do,” he conceded, “but I enjoy hearing you say my name, there is no need for any others.” 

Your lips parted, eyes widening a fraction as you stared at him. As if your blush hadn’t been bad enough before, surely you looked like a ripe tomato now. 

“Um…” You blinked heavily. “I, uh, thank you?” 

“You are most welcome, lǎsko,” he said with a lopsided smile that made your heart race. “How are you feeling now?” 

The change in topic had you crinkling your nose, your mind spinning out of orbit as it tried to grapple with the question. 

“What do you—“ You cut yourself off, understanding dawning like the sun rising on the horizon. “Ah, right, my fall.” Assessing yourself, poking and prodding at your limbs, you said, “I’ll have some bruises, but otherwise I think I should be fine.” 

Clicking his tongue on the back of his teeth, he placed the back of his hand on your forehead. “I am not sure, you seem to be quite warm. Another fever?” 

You slapped his hand away, leaning forward to hide your embarrassment in his chest instead. “Shut up,” you grumbled, no bite to your tone. Even at his most annoying, you would hang onto his every word, for you never knew which could be his last. 

The Undercity was never without its dangers. Even on the edge of it as you were, you should have known better than to have expected otherwise. Sure, you’d heard or seen the odd person wandering through the streets, but as far as you’d been aware, none had seen you, or bothered to enter the house that belonged to the glowing, ghostly apparition of a woman with twisted scars and vibrant pink eyes. 

But loud noises often attract the curious, malicious intent or otherwise, and in this place of kill or be killed, it was most likely the former. They came at night while you slept - as far away from the hole as possible - wrapped in your blankets together. The other room had a broken window, and while it was less of a danger of rolling into and falling out of in the night, the draft was less than ideal. 

A sharp creak pierced the night's silence, jolting you awake. Heart pounding, you reached over and shook Viktor, his eyes snapping open. "What's wrong?" he whispered urgently, sensing your distress.

"I heard something. Downstairs," you hissed back, straining your ears.

Another drawn-out creak, closer this time. Unmistakably coming from the staircase. Your stomach twisted into a cold knot of dread.

You and Viktor lay frozen, scarcely daring to breathe. The darkness pressed in, smothering and opaque. Seconds stretched into a taut eternity.

Nothing. No further sounds. The house settled back into eerie quiet, floorboards no longer protesting under unknown weight.

You started to relax fractionally, shoulders loosening. Maybe it had just been the old building groaning and shifting on its ancient foundations, noises distorted by your hyper-alert senses.

Then - a splintering crash as the door burst open, slamming against the wall. Three dark silhouettes filled the doorframe, blades glinting in their hands. Malicious intent electrified the air.

Pure, visceral terror turned your blood to ice. It clawed its way up your throat, as sharp and bitter as bile. The most primal parts of your brain screamed Danger! Run!

But there was nowhere to flee. You were trapped, at the dubious mercy of these armed intruders who had stalked through the cover of darkness to find you defenseless.

Hideous scenarios flashed through your mind in the stretched second before anyone moved - those wicked knives slicing into vulnerable flesh, hot blood spilling across the floor, Viktor's body lying motionless.

A choked whimper fell from your lips. Sparks crackled to life, dancing across your skin in frantic agitation, reflecting your skyrocketing fear.

Viktor's hand found yours, gripping tight enough to hurt. The small pain grounded you, keeping the threatening panic at bay.

Drawing a shuddering breath, you forced yourself to meet the cold eyes of the man in the center. His dead gaze made your skin crawl, promising only cruelty and suffering.

"Hiding away quality material like that in an abandoned hovel." His voice was a dark rasp, scraping over your frayed nerves like rusted nails. "Looks like it's our lucky night, boys."

Cliche and overused as it was, the other two snickered, an ugly sound. They began to advance into the room, floorboards whining under their heavy tread. The door swung shut with a hollow bang, sealing you in with the intruders.

There would be no escape. Fight or surrender were the only options…and you had never been one to give up easily. Power crackled through your veins, gathering in your palms, ready to lash out.

A piercing shriek tore from your throat as the men lunged forward, blades flashing. Terror turned your blood to icy sludge in your veins. Viktor struggled to rise beside you but you were faster, adrenaline flooding your system. You flung out your hands, raw power surging through you in a crackling wave.

The men slammed against the far wall with sickening crunches, pinned like moths in an entomologist's collection. Knives clattered to the floor. Savage satisfaction warred with the gibbering panic still tearing at your mind.

But your control was tenuous at best. Fear cracked it wide open, and something far more sinister rushed in to fill the void. The Hexcore pulsed to malevolent life within you, seizing on your wild emotions like a starving beast. Whispers snaked through your head, dark and seductive.

“Yessss…let go. Embrace the power. Make them pay for daring to threaten you.”

Oily shadows unfurled from deep inside, foreign and familiar all at once. They wrapped around your magic, seeking to bend it to their will.

“Surrender. Stop fighting your true nature and burn them to ash. Take what is yours by right!”

Violet light flared beneath your skin, pulsing in time with your thundering heart. The shadows pushed, clawing for freedom, straining against the weakening barrier of your willpower.

Distantly, you heard Viktor shouting your name, sensed him struggling to reach you. But he seemed impossibly far away, reality fading behind a haze of fear and the Hexcore's growing influence.

“I will feast on your terror, gorge myself on destruction until nothing else remains.”

Dread turned your stomach inside out. Tears burned your eyes, blurring your sight. The core's insatiable hunger gnawed at your soul, spurring your magic to new heights without consent.

Helpless, you could only watch in horror as amethyst flames roared from your outstretched hands, engulfing the paralyzed men. Their agonized screams raked like molten claws down your spine. The stench of charring meat assaulted your nostrils.

Then, abruptly, the screams cut off. The flames winked out. Nothing remained of the intruders except piles of grey-black ash and a few smouldering embers. Their life force hung heavy on your skin, a pall of released essence.

With a surge of vicious delight, the Hexcore ripped it asunder, devouring the men's fundamental energies and weaving them into itself. Its triumphant laughter reverberated through your skull.

You crashed to your knees, doubling over as violent nausea seized your gut. Bile scorched up your throat and you retched, emptying the meagre contents of your stomach onto the floor. Tears streamed down your face, mingling with the sweat beading your brow.

The horrific scene replayed in your mind's eye - the men's bodies consumed by searing flames, flesh blackening and peeling, inhuman screams of agony torn from their throats before they crumbled to ash. Just like Sky. Butchered by the same unholy power now pulsing beneath your skin.

Oh god, what have I done? The thought reverberated through your skull, edged in hysteria. You squeezed your eyes shut but couldn't block out the gruesome images seared into your brain. The scent of charred meat lingered, cloying and rancid.

Another wave of nausea crashed over you, stomach heaving. Nothing came up but thin strings of acid that burned your raw throat. Hacking coughs wracked your frame as you fought to breathe past the choking revulsion.

With a shaking hand, you swiped at your mouth, smearing bile across your lips. The back of your throat felt scoured raw. Shudders rolled through you, aftershocks of disgust and self-loathing.

How could you have lost control so completely? Allowed the Hexcore to puppeteer your magic, twisting it into something so destructive and cruel? Guilt crushed your lungs until each breath was a laboured wheeze.

“Did you think it was over?” The Hexcore’s voice slithered into your ear, wiggling towards your brain, sending your balance off kilter and you fell to the side. “You’re mine.”

It purred, shadows twining sinuously up your arms. Its power crashed into you like a freight train, obliterating any sense of control. You were nothing more than a conduit for the violent torrent of energy, a helpless leaf tossed on the wind.

Unbridled purple lightning crackled across your skin as the Hexcore's power surged through you, wild and ravenous. It sank barbed hooks into your magic, wrenching control from your grasp with ruthless glee. Inky tendrils burrowed deeper, piercing your mind, your soul, until you couldn't discern where you ended and the Hexcore began.

Agony exploded behind your eyes, whiting out your vision. Your skull felt like it was splitting in two as the Hexcore's malevolent presence expanded, devouring your consciousness bite by bite. Razor-edged shadows shredded through mental barriers like tissue paper, laying your most intimate thoughts bare.

Distantly, you felt your body convulse, back arching as unholy energy ripped through you. Your mouth stretched wide in a soundless scream, vocal cords paralyzed.

Reality splintered around the edges as the arcane storm raged, warping your perceptions. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, each second stretching into a small eternity of agony.

“What would you do if I drained him too? Turned him to ashes, sucked out his marrow.”

Desperation lacerated your heart. You couldn't lose him, not like this. Viktor was your anchor, your safe harbour in the storm. A lifeline tethering you to your humanity as the Hexcore sought to supplant your identity. Without him…

You didn’t know where he was, couldn’t sense anything outside of the Hexcore’s influence, but you fought for him all the same. Clenching your teeth until your jaw ached, you rallied the last tattered shreds of your willpower.

"No!" you screamed inside your mind, the word reverberating through your skull like a war cry. "I won't let you have him!"

The Hexcore snarled in fury, shadows lashing against your mental defences like whips. Each blow felt like a red-hot poker stabbing into your brain, but you refused to yield.

Pouring all your desperate need to save him into a burst of sheer stubborn will, you rallied your power and slammed it against the Hexcore's invasive presence like a battering ram. Something cracked and splintered, unholy energy sparking along your nerve endings.

"Get. Out. Of. My. Head!" you gritted out through clenched teeth, punctuating each word with a vicious mental shove.

Push, push, you kicked, you bit, you raged against its hold. You would not be controlled, it would yield to you.

Push, push, and - your vision blacked out, your body went numb and your screams were drowned out by the roar of power as your magic exploded.

Next Chapter

A/N: Next chapter will be out tomorrow!

Join us on Discord for memes, edits, good times, and updates!