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fabricated-misslieness · 1 year

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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Viktor x gn reader (arcane)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: It wasn't very often Viktor was denied things, being a very important scientist. It seems he's grown too used to it.

ʀᴇ𝐐: no ~ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 684 ~ crackfic!

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: probably ooc

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: i struggled on the math part lol (also inspired by "what difference does that make?" in the bridge scene after vik visits singed)

☾⋆☆⋆☽

"Hey, love?" Viktor calls from the kitchen.

"Yeah?" You reply mindlessly, taking another sip from your coffee.

"Could I have another koláč?" It was has hardly a question that required an answer for him. The only thing the koláče were in danger of was shortage, and the only thing he was in danger of was mild discomfort. The pastry's crumbs would, perhaps, get stuck in the corners of his mouth and the jam's texture might cause him a bit of trouble. All in all, though, it was mighty worth it.

What he doesn't expect is for you to say, "No."

The only thing you can hear is the padding of his little socked feet before he's a the kitchen doorway looking at you as if you've just betrayed him. "What?"

"You've already eaten so many."

"Wha–no, no I haven't." He denies it through his teeth. He could only have eaten like, one or two, at most!

"Okay, darling, let's see, I made a dozen." You begin.

He follows along, "Uh-huh."

"And I've eaten one. There are five left." Now he wasn't following. There were five left? "Do the math for me. You're the scientist!"

Viktor doesn't roll his eyes, even though he would've if the circumstances were different. Okay, twelve minus one minus x equals five. That means he's eaten six. No way he's eaten six. He does the math again in his mind once, then once more. But you were right, he was a scientist, he had to have had the math right the first time.

He doesn't realize it, but he's spent several minutes silently blinking as he registered the answer.

"Vik? You got that result for me?"

"Six." He says, like a good boy. He's eaten six.

"That's right." You reply immediately, tapping your finger in the air. "You've eaten six. Not only is that gluttony–"

"It'd be the last one." He reasons, "I swear."

"No, my love." You shake your head at him disappointedly and the shame begins to set in. "Your teeth are gonna hurt and you're gonna complain about it."

"I wouldn't complain!" He argues quickly, "I'd figure out a solution myself."

"How?"

How. That was the question.

"You're a scientist, Vik, not a dentist. Not to mention you'd continue asking for more." Viktor's lips open and close like a fish, but words do not come out, so you continue. "All I'm saying is that when it comes to this, your promises aren't so valuable."

"What? H–" He chokes on his own spit and has to bite back the feeling of sourness in his throat. "How dare you!"

The tantrum that boils up within his body doesn't help his case, though. He was a scientist, it was only a logical thought, objective. On the subjective side, no that wasn't true! But again, it wouldn't help him. So instead of that approach, he crosses his arms over his chest, the only sign of protest he thinks he is able to afford, and says, "It'll be the last one. I'll hold myself to that promise."

"Really?" You say. He can hear it in your tone that you seriously doubt his promise and tries not to take offense from it.

"Really." He replies, totally serious.

What he didn't know, what he hadn't realized, and what mostly tipped the scales in his favor, was that he was pouting. You could even hear it in his voice. It was awfully cute.

You sigh, "Alright."

"Really?" He blurts, shocked despite putting up such a "good" argument.

"Really." You affirm.

Viktor grins, covering the distance between you with short, quick steps. His excitement spills over the edge in the form of a laugh so angelic and joyous the following complaints might be bearable. Then, most graciously, he cups your cheeks and presses a big yet quick kiss upon your lips. "Thank you!"

"You know, my love, I will always make more." His joy was so contagious you couldn't help but laugh. "I just need you to exercise a bit of control."

If it meant he could keep eating koláče, he'd do it. "Of course."

#viktor x gn reader #viktor x reader #arcane viktor x reader #arcane viktor x gn reader #arcane x reader #arcane x gn reader #🌸 // success!#🎟 // league of legends #🎫 // viktor #league of legends fanfiction #league of legends x gn reader #league of legends x reader

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zombie-brains · 4 years

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~Kinlist~

ID:

🍎Lucifer Morningstar (Hazbin Hotel)

💫Juno Steel (The Penumbra Podcast)

Fictionkin:

*I love all doubles*

(Click for memories)

💥Jinx (Arcane)

🪶Bloodhound (Apex Legends)

📼Jonathan Sims (The Magnus Archives)

🐦‍⬛Carmina Mora/The Artist (Dead by Daylight)

🕊Aziraphale (Good Omens)

🕸Web!Jon (The Magnus Archives AU)

🔪Susie Lavoie (Dead by Daylight)

🎸Sal Fisher (Sally Face)

🕷Widowmaker (Overwatch)

🗝Mylo (Arcane)

🦎Neeko (League of Legends)

💫Allura (Voltron: Legendary Defender)

🏹Astrid (How to Train your Dragon)

💖Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)

🐚Gamzee Peixes (Homestuck Bloodswap)

Otherkin:

🔥Demon

🧠Zombie

👻Ghost

🐲Hydra

🍁Faun

Copinglink:

🌩Mike Crew (The Magnus Archives)

Therian:

🐾Tiger

Synpath:

🌸Fluttershy

Questioning:

🔺Android (Detroit Become Human)

🎸Len (Ruby Gloom)

⛰Hilda (Hilda)

✖️Crona (Soul Eater)

🐍Draco Malfoy (Harry Potter)

☣️Jade Strider (Homestuck Kidswap)

🐮Tavros (Homestuck)

🎧Folykl (Hiveswap)

💻Nepeta Captor (Homestuck Bloodswap)

🎪Gooliope Jellington (Monster High)

🐏Mountain Goat

⚾️Diya (Butterfly Soup)

🌙Rayla (The Dragon Prince)

👁‍🗨Oz (Monster Prom)

💦Rainy (The World Next Door)

🐺Isaac Lahey (Teen Wolf)

🎯Merida (Brave)

🔇Meulin (Homestuck)

🍭Roxy (Homestuck)

🌀Calliope (Homestuck)

🐙Meenah Peixes (Homestuck)

🦋Damien Bloodmarch (Dream Daddy)

🍃Deet (The Dark Crystal)

🗡Rian (The Dark Crystal)

🎀Crybaby (K-12)

☠️Larry (Sally Face)

🌲Woody (Don’t Starve)

🦇Marceline (Adventure Time)

🌈Lady Rainicorn (Adventure Time)

💥Flame Princess (Adventure Time)

🕝Prismo (Adventure Time)

🌿Fern (Adventure Time)

🎭Double Trouble (She Ra)

🌀Aang (Avatar: the Last Airbender)

🔰Toph (Avatar: the Last Airbender)

🔍Sherlock (BBC Sherlock)

🛸Aja Tarren (3Below)

♠️Eclipsa Butterfly (Star vs the Forces of Evil)

🔬Moira (Overwatch)

🦋Echo (Overwatch)

✨Glimmer (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)

🌑Non canon Lycan (Resident Evil Village)

🐝Mituna (Humanstuck AU)

🐱Dirk Lalonde (Homestuck Kidswap)

🪲Ekko (Arcane)

☀️Sunnydrop (FNAF SB)

⚒️Poppy (League of Legends)

🎭Camilo Madrigal (Encanto)

🔥Pyro (Team Fortress 2)

⚙️Violet Baudelaire (A Series of Unfortunate Events (Books))

🕯Non canon Assistant (The Magnus Archives)

🎟Nikola Orsinov (The Magnus Archives)

📖Gerard Keay (The Magnus Archives)

🪵Cedar Wood (Ever After High)

🪓Hunter Huntsman (Ever After High)

💘C.A. Cupid (Monster High)

🎮Ghoulia Yelps (Monster High)

❄️Wendigo

🗡Darrington Dare (The Librarians)

💀The Horseman of Death (Sleepy Hollow)

✖️Priya (Love Death and Robots: Ice)

🍄Sydney Sargent (Camp Here and There)

☁️Rowan Chow (Camp Here and There)

🌕George Sands (Being Human)

⚜️Peter Nureyev (The Penumbra Podcast)

♠️Duke Rose (TPP Roseverse AU)

🔧M’tendere (The Penumbra Podcast)

💫Captain (In Space with Markiplier)

🎹Jameson Jackson (JSE Egos)

💿Cisco Ramon (The Flash)

🏴‍☠️Edward Teach (Our Flag Means Death)

🦇Eddie Munson (Stranger Things)

✨Glam (Metal Family)

🎙2D (Gorillaz)

🌟David 7 (Stellar Firma)

🍕Michelangelo (Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles)

🌟Serifan (Young Justice)

⚡️Bart Allen (Young Justice)

🪷Lifeweaver (Overwatch)

♣️Sedgewick Sable (Lackadaisy)

🔮Darius Deamonne (The Owl House)

🦌 The Nowhere King (Centaurworld)

🍨 Thistle Whistle (My Little Pony G3)

☀️Ambrosius Goldenloin (Nimona)

✨️Ethari (The Dragon Prince)

☠️Luffy (One Piece Live Action)

💗Fizzarolli (Helluva Boss)

🧁Gary Prince (Fionna and Cake)

🖋Kieran Walker (In the Flesh)

🪡Ragatha (The Amazing Digital Circus)

🌙Aphelios (League of Legends)

✒️Heartsteel Aphelios (League of Legends)

💉N (Murder Drones)

🗡Sasha Waybright (Amphibia)

🖥Vox (Hazbin Hotel)

💫Sylvester Ashling (Epithet Erased)

🪨Venture (Overwatch)

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fabricated-misslieness · 2 years

Text

pairing: akshan x gn reader (Battle Academia)

req: yes | wc: 1233

anon: battle academia au akshan fanfic where they’re training buddies and they decide to have a sleepover at reader’s home after training and then feelings pop up? maybe even a tiny pinch of suggestiveness

warnings: bit suggestive, swearing

a/n: going out on a limb and saying they have phones because the buildings in the background of splash art and such look pretty modern (update: i forgot ezreal pulls out a phone in his joke animation and i literally have that skin)

The first years watched in awe as the new second year and transfer student, Akshan, made light work of the training dummies. The dummies were placed in a circle around him. He hooked one, pushed himself off of it into the air, spun and sliced each one in half with his gun (what the heck, it's a gun!) in one swift spin and planted a kick on the last standing dummy. 7.032 seconds.

It was... pretty cool, yeah, you would admit that. But the first years were always amazed by just about everything. It didn't help that Akshan was the revered transfer student.

On your podium of sorts, the training dummies were also set in a circle around you. You take a deep breath as the timer begins.

3, 2...1!

You swing your sword towards the first dummy and slice it clean in half. You allow the momentum from the swing to keep you moving into a slice on the second dummy.

You bring your sword above your head and swing down at the third, only for the sword to get stuck in the base of it. Fuck, not now! You don't have the time.

You kick off the fourth dummy, into the air, and onto the handle of your sword. The sword is launched into the air, but you grab it before it can fly off. With that, you slice the final dummy.

You strain your eyes towards the timer. 7.03..!

7.033 seconds.

"Fuck!"

Beside you, on his podium, Akshan laughs. He covers his mouth with a hand, but the gesture does absolutely nothing to hide his loud ass snorts.

You collapse on your bum on the side of the podium, head in your hands. 0.001, really?!

"Nice try." Akshan pats you on the shoulder. There's still a hint of joy in his tone and you can hear it clear as day.

"Oh, fuck off." You swat his hand away, but he only pulls you up one-handed by the armpit.

"No, really." He smiles.

You only roll your eyes. "Uh-huh."

"Listen, not everything is about the competition–"

"But it is for you."

"I'm just saying." He raises his hands in surrender, "Maybe it's not about the competition for you. Then this'll mean less to you than it does for me."

"I'm not even sure you understand what you're saying right now."

Straight after training, you went home. Well, Akshan went to your house, and you went home. He insisted on it; a sort of prize for winning at the competition, like he was rubbing salt in the wound. It was only further proof that he didn't know what he was saying.

You sat comfortably on your bed, absentmindedly listening to the TV while scrolling through your phone. Vaguely, you hear footsteps and a door opening to your right. It's probably Akshan, clean from his shower.

"Hey, Akshan, I was thinking we could get take out for dinner." You begin, not looking up from your phone just yet.

"I'm not sure Professor Graves would agree."

"Don't tell me you dig the whole discipline in both training and diet spiel–" You finally look up from your phone, finding the sight of Akshan with a towel around his neck and water dripping down his... very bare chest.

"I don't." Akshan snickers, "Professor Graves is just so memorable, though, he's got his whole "don't wanna be here" attitude and—are you okay?"

You actually close your jaw–it's like a door hinge–and pretend like you weren't just frozen in place. "Yea–yes, I'm okay."

Akshan already suspects something is going on, but he elects to ignore it. He snickers at your response and takes a seat next to you on the bed, unbearably close. Every part of your leg is touching; which is a little bad, cause his torso is still wet. Also he's making your bed wet.

"What do you have in mind, burritos?" He winks, and winks again, twice under the same second with the same eye.

You narrow your eyes at him, "Out of all phallic foods, burritos? That shit can barely–"

"Exactly." He smirks.

You collapse on the bed, actually fully clothed and dry, as opposed to Akshan.

Except that shirt… it's a little small. Carelessly, you'd jumped back first on the bed. The jump had tousled your hair and clothes, leading to your shirt riding up just a little bit. It was a lotta bit for Akshan's wandering eyes. He can see a sliver of your skin and the beginnings of a trail…

Anyway–

You browse through your phone right away. He pouts, but of course you're not looking, so he speaks up. "Hey, what's the point of me coming over if you're gonna be on your phone?"

"You invited yourself over." You remind him, not even sparing a glance.

His lips purse in annoyance, even though you had a point. He sighs, then an idea comes into his head. He reaches over for your phone.

Except… you saw it coming. You turn over on your side, back facing him now. Great, this was worse.

Akshan wasn't going to give up now though! He keeps reaching for your phone, turning his body as well when his arm is fully extended.

The fight is silent, albeit the actions are very loud.

You keep turning further and further on your side and Akshan follows; his chest is pressed against your back. You extend your arm fully, fingers and all, barely even paying attention to the contents on the screen anymore.

He extends his arm too.

Just…a little…more….

"No!"

"A-hah!" Akshan proclaims loudly, pulling away from you with your phone grasped tight between his fingers.

He lays on his back, but before he can scoot away, you lunge forward.

You grab at his hand and try to pry his fingertips, but he doesn't budge. "Just, fucking let go, you little shit!"

"How about no!"

"How about–!" You turn to him, finally, and freeze.

Your chests are touching. So are your hands. Your faces are so close to each other.

"What, give up already?" Akshan smirks.

Your lips press into a fine line, but your body really doesn't want to move. "...no."

He notices then. The smirk fades from his lips.

"I-"

Ding dong!

"It's not the worst of positions, is it?" He offers a sheepish smile you're all too aware of.

"No." You admit. "No, I don't think so."

He doesn't have anything to say to that, so he opts to kiss you instead. Immediately, you react positively. His lips push into yours and yours into his.

Akshan pulls you to sit on his hips. His hands hold your waist nice and warm. A finger slips below the hem of your small shirt.

Your hands are at either side of his face to keep you steady above him. Akshan's hair bunches up to the left of his head. Without so much as a thought, you wrap a finger of yours in his hair and tug.

Akshan parts from the kiss to moan. You smirk, "Dirty little–"

Ding dong, ding dong!

"Fuu-ucck." Akshan groans.

"That'd be–"

"Yeah."

"–the takeout guy." You attempt to stand up but only manage to sit up, as Akshan's hands still hold your waist. "Akshan…"

"Please?" He pleads, pulling out the puppy eyes.

"Akshan, I'm hungry."

"Fineee." He huffs. "You're lucky I am too."

"For burrito?"

"Oh, shut up."

#akshan x gn reader #akshan x reader #league of legends x reader #league of legends x gn reader #league of legends fanfiction #🌸 // success!#🎟 // league of legends #🎫 // akshan #👑 // nearly there!

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fabricated-misslieness · 2 years

Text

pairing: (Arcane ep 4) viktor x gn reader

req: no | wc: 736

summary: He’s pretty, he knows this from your constant compliments. However, he somewhat ‘protests’ about it today.

a/n: inspired by a viktor x jayce mini comic lol, fic is not suggestive but the comic is (a little)

Viktor is pretty. He knows this, of course; you say this to him constantly, and you can’t help but continue to. You’ve come long past the humble Viktor that would say he wasn’t and compliment you in return. Now, he’s just accepted it.

It’s become part of your daily routine: you say he’s pretty, he replies with something along the lines of gratitude.

He doesn’t exactly see what you find so pretty about him–he does, actually, but it’s the front of his face that makes the most sense to him, not… the rest of it.

What is there to see in the back of his head?

If he answered this, he would say nothing at all. Though of course, he’s not answering this question, you are.

Your answer would be: the longer tufts of hair that meet their end at the back of his neck extend outwards from a point, which is rather cute; then the smaller strands of hair below it, unkept and unshaved, are quite soft to the touch. You could go on and on about it, the same way you could describe the rest of him, although it seems today you’re here about this specific part of him.

It’s not your fault, really, as it’s the first thing you see as you step into his office.

He’s not startled when you wrap your arms around his somewhat thin waist –another favorite of yours, but that’s a story for another time– not that it stops him from blushing hard. It’s an involuntary response, he argues, not that it helps with the teasing.

He hums, pleased, when you kiss the nape of his neck. It’s a good thing he’s not ticklish there.

“You’re pretty.”

“Pretty? I’ll take the compliment,” He handles the situation well, unlike the way his cheeks react by lighting up an orange pink, “but it’s rather rude of you to come barging into my office without invitation.” This retort was new; you liked that. “Who gave you a key anyway?”

“Jayce.” You say, which isn’t true, he gave you one.

“Jayce?!” He feigns surprise, to which you laugh at, “How dare he! This is our office, meant for us –and Heimerdinger and Ms. Young and maybe Councilor Medarda– only!” The listing of the names could go on and on, for no one was really restricted from the place, the fact of the matter was that the average stranger just had no business to attend to here. “And now he lets a heathen in with no reason!”

“Heathen?” You question, “Is that any way to describe me, my love?”

“If I must, perhaps it is.”

You pretend to be offended, but Viktor can tell by the constant, hot breaths disrupting the hairs at the back of his neck that you’re not perturbed at all, “That’s uncouth of you, dear. What if Piltover knew that their most amazing scient-”

“You’re missing a few more adjectives.” He wasn’t the most boastful of people, not in the slightest. He was just playing the part.

You think it over for a second with a hum, “Their prettiest, smartest, most awe-striking scientist…” He hums an ‘mhm’ of his own, showing that he deems it adequate enough, so you continue, “was so-”

Although it seems he’s changed his mind. “I’m always pretty, smart… am I not something else to you?” He was right. You’d called him many things, though you tended to repeat them.

“Hm, well, you’re beautiful.”

“I am?”

“You are,” He hums ‘mhm’ again, this time as if to say ‘continue’, “and you’re also handsome. You’re hard-working, fantastic, and an all-round wonderful human being.”

“Mm…” He pauses for a second, as if deciphering your words, then says, “‘kay, you can continue on with your question now.”

“What if Piltover knew that you were so rude? Unmannered?”

“Well,” He begins, almost triumphantly, making you wonder curiously over what he could say next, “that certainly did not stop you from loving me; am I presuming correctly? I’ll live, I’m sure of it.”

“You are presuming correctly, my love,” Your second kiss upon his neck prods a dreamy sigh from his soft lips, “though I’m beginning to think I might have made a mistake.”

“Oh?” He chuckles, “I personally think I’ve made no such mistake in loving you, and neither have you, dear.”

“Are you sure of it?” You ask.

And, with a radiating confidence, he replies, “Absolutely positive.”

#arcane viktor x reader #viktor x reader #viktor x gn reader #arcane viktor x gn reader #league of legends fanfiction #league of legends x gn reader #league of legends x reader #🌸 // success!#🎟 // league of legends #🎫 // viktor

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fabricated-misslieness · 2 years

Text

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sett x male reader

ᴀɴᴏɴ: reader works at the pit as a nurse or something like that and he was never noticed by the boss or so he thought. When reader aids Sett for the first time he was so nervous while the boss just finds it cute secretly and when reader aids someone who seems to be a love interest Sett gets jealous and the whole pit notices and nervous about it?

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3,788

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: injury, description of injury, blood, descriptions of treating injury, swearing, threats, suggested murder attempts

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Being the nurse of a fighting pit wasn’t an easy feat, but you supposed it was easier than having the same job at a Noxian fighting ring. Sett’s pit ran on a schedule, with one or two stages used at a time; Noxus’s sometimes had full on wars or opponents coming in one after the other. The aftermath of those was much worse than treating a single champion running on adrenaline (as for the loser? It depends).

People came in bloodied and bruised either way, though, and it was not a fun job. Being a nurse, you only cared for superficial injuries, although you’d have to keep other more serious ones in check before the closest doctor arrived.

The pay was good, good enough to tolerate the gruesome injuries; and the fights were good too. So were the champions, even if they were egotistical, chances were they’d be too tired or delirious after the match, so all you had to do was offer some barely praising chatter.

Besides, folk like those who take care of them. You had respect and hierarchy in the pit’s ladder. Regardless, you weren’t much of a deal. You weren’t even high enough to receive your pay from the boss himself.

Speaking of…

The door to your humble office (with a view over the arena) bursts open. It startles you, rightfully so. The fight was still ongoing.

Then you catch his eyes.

Sett bends a little to fit through the door frame, a snarl on his lips. “We ought to get a bigger door for this place.”

Flanking him are two assistants, you assume. “Yes, sir.”

The boss towers over you, and while he wasn’t the biggest you’d ever seen or treated, he certainly had an imposing figure and an even more notorious reputation. What was he doing here? You were plenty sure he wasn’t even aware of you, having been hired by someone else.

Shit. Was this about Drozzok? The champion who’d gone missing? Champions, with high winning streaks, made good enough earnings as well as good enough revenge reasons. Chances for him being murdered were higher than him going missing.

You treated him last week, the day prior, and the previous week. It was no secret he was fond of you. You musta been a suspect. Oh, Gods.

“Boss! What’re you doing here?”

Sett settles down on the leather chair in front of your desk. Clearly, he does not fit in it all too well. The both of you are shuffling in your seats, for different reasons. He’s trying to find the most comfortable position in this cramptness; you are, evidently, nervous. He can tell with the fiddling of your fingers atop the desk.

“Murder attempt.” He says nonchalantly. You don’t doubt it, you hear of murder attempts on the boss every other week.

“Right..” You clear your throat awkwardly.

He shrugs off his vest, revealing a bleeding bandage. It’s barely done the job. “I can’t manage pliers –the tiny things– and this one nearly vomited.” He points offhandedly behind himself with his good shoulder. “So help me, good nurse.”

“Need painkillers?” The boss merely shakes his head. He didn’t seem to be in much pain.

You gather your instruments, nearly tripping over your own feet on the way, or picking up the scalpel instead of the pliers; and noticing Sett’s chuckles along the way. Considering the ‘every other week’ murder attempts and his absense from your office, you don’t think he’s in all that much danger. ‘Side from the reputation of ownin’ the pit, he’s a good fighter himself. You reckon this assassin was a good one too.

“Musta been a hell of a guy to land something on ya.” You remark as you bring your chair next to his.

He shakes his head side to side in a ‘sorta’ motion, “Just caught me off guard, ‘s all.”

Right. The only thing to land a hit on him would be the element of surprise, of course. How could you doubt him? He was the man that paid your salary!

You begin your work on the wound quickly, albeit nervously. One fuck up and you’d lose your job, and perhaps something else along with it. With the area disinfected, you began your job. “I’m pulling it out. Be ready.”

You can see his muscles flex when the cool metal of your pliers meets his skin, though he nods anyway. “Mhm.”

The bullet’s in there, alright. Sett’s just about everything tenses when you dig and prod for it. The whole ordeal lasts about ten seconds, and you know he handled it well with his silent grimace, but you can’t help but to feel off put.

You offer a small mutter of praise, “Well done.”

“Mmh,” He groans then affirms, “mhm.”

Blood wiping, more cleaning, and a bandage later and he’s good to go. For the first time in the doctor’s visit, Sett offers you a smile. A fighting ring boss’s smile is often threatening, but you find that on Sett it is quite nice and warm, odd for a man like himself.

“Thank you.”

He laughs to himself when you tense up and respond, “No problem.”

He turns to leave, towering frame growing smaller in the distance, until you stop him. There was a growing doubt in your stomach. Why would he come to you?

Surely he had the doctors to attend to him.

He’d never met you in person. Was this a test?

Or, again you think, was this about Drozzok?

“Boss.”

“Yes?”

“Is this about Drozzok?”

He turns just enough for you to see him raise a brow, “No. Why would it be?”

You gulp back your fear, after all, now you were sure he wasn’t just going to turn around and accuse you of murder. “...it’s nothing, boss.”

The week after that, you find Sett with another injury; or rather, he finds you. His state of calm is the same as the last, so clearly, he’s used to this pain. As for the injury, it’s a long gash along his forearm. Gunshots hurt more than cuts, you think, but with the difference in size, this one’s going to be harder for him to bear through.

“Boss.”

“Nurse, no painkillers.”

He sits down. Without a word, you begin to take care of him. Cleaning salves leave a sting, and Sett grimaces. He swallows down a groan and you can see him do it.

“You need stitches,” You remark after finishing the cleaning. Sett exhales in a way that shows disappointment, to a degree. “and you’re gonna need painkillers.”

“Nuh-uh.” He disagrees.

He gives you a stare. You stare back, knowing he’s strong enough to handle it, but also knowing that pain is non-negotiable. He’s determined, though; and with him being your boss and all, you’ve not got the courage to disagree with him.

Fuck. You grit your teeth, pull back your screaming conscience, and nod. “If that’s what you want…”

Sett doesn’t miss the emotion you have behind your words. He knows you think he’s an idiot. You know that too. But what is he, if not an idiot?

Needle and thread, you stitch him up. First, he clamps his teeth down on his bottom lip to keep himself silent. When that fails, and sharp fangs tear bloody holes through supple skin, he grits his teeth. Silence he wants, and silent he stays. What is this, if not an idiot thing? A show of power, of course, and a foolish one at that.

He was a fool, and quickly, he was becoming a fool for you.

Sett watches your red-smeared fingers as you finish up, and he watches as you clean up your supplies. He watches as he rests against the leather chair as best he can, until he can’t anymore. The cheers within the arena grow louder, and with them, his anxiety grows. Today’s champion’ll be here soon. He can’t be seen like this.

“What’s your name, nurse?”

You turn to him only slightly, curiously, before turning back to your tools. “(y/n), boss.”

“(y/n), it’s Sett. Call me that.”

You repeat, for a second time, “If that’s what you want.” But he feels a second emotion through your words, this time; and the second time 'round, he doesn’t recognize the emotion.

“Good.”

Sett visits the week after the second time, and another time after that. Without a lull, his visits become a weekly occurrence, as do attempts on his life. Many of them are kept under the wraps, the same way the assassins’ bodies are after underestimating the boss himself; which explains the rumors being a twice a month occurrence.

He often comes in for shallowish cuts, deep slashes into his arms other times, or bone-weakening punches. Both cuts and punches are things you’re sure he’s capable of taking care of himself, if not then his assistants. They require rest, mostly, energy or strength boosting remedies some other times. If his assistants are good, they’ll carry some around. Still, he comes in for these injuries.

Visits are not the only thing that raises. Your pay does, too, with no explanation so much as offered by your supervisor, the person who delivers your pay.

And then Drozzok shows up.

“Doc, hey!”

You’d seen him down at the fighting pit, and you were shocked then, but you were shocked now, still.

“Drozzok, hey! It’s good to see you again. Thought you mighta died.” You offer him a hand. He doesn’t just take it, instead, he uses it as leverage to pull you into him for a hug. If he wasn’t a good friend, you would’ve pushed him away. The man was sweating hard from the fight, and he was also rather bloody. Whose blood was whose, you didn’t quite know.

“It takes a lot more to kill me than an assassin. Same guy from the pit the week before that I beat, except he had a knife with him. Dirty o’ him, for sure, and even messier was his death.” He sighs, “If I had the choice I woulda stayed with you, but I had to take the nearest doctor.”

“That’s good for me, actually, Drozzok.” You speak as you watch him for injuries, “I’m no doctor…Anything serious like internal bleeding and you would’ve died in my hands.”

“Oh, you’re a doctor in my eyes! (y/n), you’re the only proactive healer here. Are ya kiddin’ me?” He exclaims with a grand gesture of his arms, which hurts him, you’re sure with his grimace, but he continues, “You’ve got twice as much vigor as other doctors!”

“Ah, well, I’m flattered.” You offer him a final smile as you finish scanning him for superficial injuries. “Please, sit down.”

Despite feeling restless, he obliges. His legs bounce up and down periodically, and you’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline from his fight or his ecstasy at seeing you again.

Drozzok likes to barrage his opponent with punches. It usually means that the fight is over quick because he stuns them far too much, far too quick. You could call it “No personal bubbles”. All he seems to need is a stamina drink and a little something to keep wider cuts closed.

He keeps bouncing in place, and you chuckle, “Settle down, Drozzok.”

He tries his best each time you touch his skin, then resumes when you stop to grab more equipment. It’s cute, really; if not, then only least bit disturbing to your work.

“Doc.”

“Hm?”

“So, I was wondering… now that I’m back and all, and I don’t feel the impending anxiety of perhaps not ever being able to see you again…” He trails off. You expect it to only be a pause, but it turns out quite the opposite.

“Yes?”

He clears his throat. You can see sweat drops on his forehead. “Like I said, I was wondering-”

The door opens, and Sett and his familiar assistants come into view.

“Hello!” They’ve gotten quite friendly with you, especially the queasy one. They give you a thumbs up from behind Sett’s back, and you know why they can barely spare a glance at their boss. While they’re visibly unscathed, in comparison to their boss…

“Gods, Sett!”

He acts as he always does, calm, yet you can see he’s perturbed. His lips form a deep scowl. There’s a deep gash on the side of his body, and another along his pecs. His knuckles are red and bleeding.

He only grunts in response, but he seems to actually find words when his eyes land on Drozzok. His scowl somehow deepens even more. “Who’s this?”

“I’m Drozzok, boss.”

“The returned champion? Alright.” He stops and watches. You know what he means when he stares the champion down, though it seems like he does not. “Just because you’re a champion, Drozzok, doesn’t mean you can take my seat. You understand?”

The champion moves swiftly, muttering his apologies. You wonder if that’s what you behaved like when Sett began his visits, though not for long.

You begin your work just as quick, offering Sett the drink that was meant for Drozzok. He takes it with a quick and faint “thank you”. To walk all the way over here from wherever this was… you’re not sure how he hasn’t fainted yet. However, due to his muttering, you’re fairly sure he’s close to slipping from consciousness.

Drozzok watches. He watches as you clean the blood from his gashes, and the wound from his knuckles, and he feels different. He feels that you are different.

He watches and notes your tenderness.

“Drozzok.” You snap your fingers and it snaps him out of his rude stare. “Get gauze, needle and thread… and paink-”

“No.” Sett disagrees.

“Sett-”

He persists. He sits up to show his authority, and persists, still, through the hiss of pain. “I said, no.”

“And I, as the nurse, know what it is that you need.” Accidentally, you wrap the bandages around his knuckles tighter than needed. He winces, and you feel sorry for only a second, because this is getting your point across in a way he can’t ignore. “So, big guy, I say yes.”

Sett rolls his eyes, shifts in place, grunts even; but protest as he might through gesture, you don’t hear anything verbal. You take it as a gesture to go on.

You would scold him like the manchild he is if you had the guts.

Once the little commotion is over, Drozzok arrives with all that you’ve asked of him, including the painkillers. Sett gives you a look as you hand them over, and you give him one too. He has no doubt in your authority in this, even as he protests so. He takes them with no further objection.

They only take a few minutes to take effect, and when they do, he visibly eases up and rests back against the chair.

“That’s better, isn’t it?”

He rolls his eyes in response.

Drozzok purses his lips and continues to watch. You’ve got chemistry, he can tell. Was he too late? Taking advantage of the fact the procedure is going smoothly, he speaks with you, unbothered by the pit’s boss you treat.

“So, as I was saying… Do you want to go out with me anytime soon?”

Sett visibly raises a brow, and Drozzok ignores him. Whether on purpose or tunnel vision, you don’t quite know.

You pause in your movements. You knew this day would come, and you’ve been thinking about it for the longest time. Despite this, you’d never been able to come up with what to say; and on the spot, you wouldn’t be able to either.

“Fuck.” Sett breathes out.

You stare down at your needle and thread looking for any mistake you’d made, only to realize you hadn’t made one. Sett saved you from the situation.

“Drozzok.” He says, eyebrows furrowed and fangs damn near breaking the skin of his lip, “I see you, and I think, what a strong young man. A champion, for sure. Now, I’m sure my hunch is right, is it not?”

The champion nods slowly, as if trying to decipher what the boss truly means. It’s quite clear, you think, but perhaps not to him.

“That’s good! So, with that strength of yours, you should be able to handle these injuries.”

He nods again, even slower, and moves to leave. Then, as he finally reaches the doorway, he turns only slightly to say, “How about that offer, (y/n)?”

Sett interrupts, “Alone, Drozzok.”

With that ending statement, Drozzok takes the hint. He gulps visibly, “Yes, Sett.”

“That’s boss for you.”

Only when Drozzok leaves, shame and embarrassment spread throughout his body that even you can see, do you speak again. “What was that for, Sett?”

“What was what for?” He plays it cool, though he knows you see through him.

“Making ‘the champion’ leave.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You laugh at that, and Sett raises a brow. “Well, if you have no idea, then I have nothing to thank you for. Except, I do thank you, for doing that. Even if it was ‘nothing’.”

“Your stitching job was just messy, which I thought was odd. So I thought you were getting distracted. That’s all.” He ends with a smirk that you can just barely notice, but it’s there, and you’re sure of it.

“If you say so…”

Sett’s jealousy of Drozzok and your relationship continues to grow, and the pit’s workers take notice. While he knew you didn’t reciprocate Drozzok's feelings, he was quite jealous of the champion's ability to be so straightforward. Sett was a frank man, too, but when it came to you, the courage in his chest dissipated within a matter of seconds. Besides, you and the champion have known each other for longer, as well.

Sometimes he thought Drozzok had higher chances, sometimes he disagreed with that statement completely.

He’d come up with various reasons to keep Drozzok away from you. And, when he didn’t have any, he still had the authority to keep him away.

For one, the champion was not scheduled for fights at all, so he had no reason to visit your office.

Nor was he allowed to visit you without a reason. The boss had made it so that only people in need could visit your office (apparently Sett himself could avoid this rule). Such ‘people in need’ weren’t an abundant bunch, so the office was slightly empty, not that it wasn’t before.

These new rules, that all seemed clearly related to you, confused many people in the pit. The boss’s crush on you was now well known around the pit, not that Sett seemed to show much care.

"So, what was it this time?"

"Hmf," Sett grumbles, "crazy gal wielding chains as a weapon, except she's got thorns protruding out of each link."

"Say, how big were these thorns?"

"Tiny, but sharp."

"Ah," Your theory lines up with reality, it seems. "thought so."

His wounds are cuts, several of them littered around his arms. A lot of them seem like tiny paper cuts. Your only concern is the bigger ones, the rest can only offer slight burns every time they rub up against something, so it's a good thing Sett doesn't wear a shirt.

"Oh, how so?" He chuckles at a wild idea in his mind, "I thought maybe it'd look like I got attacked by a wild swarm of enraged Bahrl Jays."

You laugh, "Aha, well, the mighty underground fighting pit boss, Sett, would not allow himself to be harmed by such feeble avians."

"Oh?" He inquires at the praise.

"What is it, boss? Am I wrong?"

"No, I think, perhaps you are right. But I'll have you know, Bahru Jay's are a fierce bunch." He laughs, "I wouldn't put it past them to do such a thing; well, except to me, of course."

"Right, yes, because the weaker fauna can still sense you are a powerful man!"

"Now yer thinking."

"Hm." You hum to yourself, padding at the cut along his eyebrow with a cloth. "I'm afraid we need an intermission."

"You and fancy words… What? Are you afraid of–" Sett hisses, and his eyes instinctively shut, when the cleaning salve soaked towel meets a cut.

"That's why we needed it."

Yeah, he agrees now.

The door bursts open when you finish applying a healing salve, and in comes the fated man, Drozzok. You could only avoid him for so long, and Sett couldn't keep him away forever.

"Drozzok." You greet with as much cheer as you can muster, pretending to keep your focus entirely on the final cut on Sett's face.

"(y/n), hey." He greets, breathlessly. He doesn't expect the boss's presence, nor does he fail to notice it completely, but he ignores him instead. "So, that offer? It still stands."

"Not right now, Drozzok." The sting is much longer because you prolong the cleaning of the cut, waiting for the fighter to leave, but Sett tolerates it for your sake. "I'm busy."

"Yes, yes, of course." Drozzok gulps, his gaze finally landing on the boss's glaring eyes for more than a second. "I can see that, it's just that I've been waiting for an answer, and-"

"Drozzok?" Sett interrupts.

"..yes, boss?"

"He's busy. I'm on a tight schedule, and so is he. Even on a chair being treated to, one eye closed, I can see you're not in 'need' of medical assistance." He clears his throat, "And I'm afraid he is not responsible for emotional help. If you, dear champion, disregard my rules once more… just know I brought you to this pit, and I have the power to undo that decision."

The boss fixes the champion with an even more indignant glare and says, "Understand?"

"Yes, boss."

When he leaves, you speak up. "You'll admit to it now, won't you?"

Sett grumbles something negative under his breath, but he agrees. "Yeah."

"Thanks."

He doesn't find much assurance in the small phrase. "You don't like that guy, do you?"

You chuckle, not noticing his serious expression, "I wouldn't have thanked you if I did."

"(y/n), I'm serious."

You catch on, now. "Yes, yeah, I don't like him, not that way."

Sett audibly breathes a sigh of relief, somewhat forgetting that you're there to hear it. He'll be remembering soon, though.

"Not the way I do you."

"Oh." The boss brings a fist to his mouth, and clears his throat. Red frames the apples of his cheeks and the tips of his ears, and it coats him in a warmth he thinks he'll never forget. "That… is a revelation for sure."

"The indignant boss, survivor of multiple attempts on his life a month, the man himself, flustered?"

"Oh, shut it."

☾⋆☆⋆☽

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: perhaps got a little carried away. anyway, format for when i have no pictures?

#league of legends x reader #league of legends x male reader #sett x reader #settrigh x reader #sett x male reader #settrigh x male reader #🌸 // success!#🎟 // LoL #🎟 // league of legends #🎫 // sett #🎫 // settrigh #🎟 // runeterra #anonymousrequest

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fabricated-misslieness · 2 years

Text

pairing: (Arcane) jayce x gn reader x viktor

req: no | wc: 1.1k | fluff fluff tooth-rotting fluff | cw: slight (but joking) jayce bullying

summary: Dating the best scientists of Piltover had its perks.

a/n: <3

Councilors of Piltover had their benefits. For one, they were at the highest upon highest tiers of the city’s hierarchy—albeit sharing the status with seven other individuals, they had command and often huge influence upon the city and its trends, and they were regarded with utmost respect, for the most part. Another perk, the newest councilor Jayce supposes, is that they have their own private suite.

Important, ground-breaking scientists of Piltover had their own benefits too. Though one took more spotlight than the other, Jayce and Viktor would say the benefits are: being able to work for the city and watch it thrive because of you (themselves), having projects and necessities fully funded, and getting to work on their passion, science.

Sometimes, being a simple lover had its benefits as well. For one, you got to spend time with the love of your life, pamper them without reason, all that.

Being great scientists’, and a councilor’s, lover had its benefits. It was almost as if you shared their benefits, even.

This obviously made you feel indebted to them, and try as they might to tell you it’s fine or that you deserve it or something along those lines, you decided you would make it up to them; somehow, someway. Just making breakfast was enough for them sometimes.

“Bright and early in the morning,” Jayce slumps against your back. “I don’t know how you do it.”

His voice is sluggish, a mere whisper into your ear, and so is his movement even as his arms wrap around your figure, “The motivation of having to feed two important scientists gets me out of the bed each morning.”

He snickers, “We’re important enough for that?”

“ ‘Course you are.”

“You have my thanks, then.” His lips find the shell of your ear, your cheek and the back of your neck, placing a kiss upon each supple area. Your back’s tucked into his broad chest, and though the hug may be one-sided, it feels nice all the same.

“As do you.”

You enjoy the moment for a time, before remembering your other lover, “Is the King still in bed getting his beauty sleep?” This King, of course, being Viktor.

“Yes.”

Or at least, he was. Perhaps it was pure coincidence, in fact it definitely was, it's just that you wanted to believe your words had summoned him.

Viktor comes round the corner with a yawn and a slight stretch. He looks much more well-kept in comparison to the two of you; Jayce’s shirt is quite crooked and he’s wearing those pj pants with the waistband that keeps falling, although he’s a big fan of these pants because of their comfiness nonetheless.

“Morning my,” He pauses, for a moment, as his eyes catch the sight of you, “...loves.” He’s not uncomfortable, of course he’s not, he’d just rather be… how does one phrase this? He was uncomfortable, yes, not because of you and Jayce’s hugging, but because he wasn’t in that hug, enjoying its warmth, enjoying its safety. He was only uncomfortable because he wasn’t feeling rather comfortable.

“Speak of the…” not devil, “King.” Jayce smiles. “Morning, my love.”

“Morning.” You chime in, still a little preoccupied with the food you’re preparing on the stove. Don’t want that to burn, especially since you’re feeding ‘Your Highnesses’. They’re like dogs with prescription diets to stick to—or that’s what they would say that you treated them like anyway.

Viktor finds himself a little cold, his body feeling in solitude. He curses it for feeling this way, since it’ll be no matter of time till Jayce makes a teasing comment about it.

Worst of all, he doesn’t get to wait long until it happens.

You’re turning off the stove and leaving the food for a moment to cool down –as much as Jayce would protest, you didn’t want him burning his tongue– and finally giving Viktor all the attention he needs (and doesn’t want at the moment). You turn yourself for it, inevitably bringing Jayce along with you.

“You look lonely.” You shoot Jayce a look, to which he merely laughs at.

Then both of your eyes fixate on him again. It’s a silly thing, shrinking under the gaze of his lovers despite being so used to their presence—to the point where it feels odd to not be around you, yet it happens all the same.

Slowly, you raise your arms.

“No, no.” He denies his insatiate need for affection, waving his hands along with it to emphasize his point. “I’m fine, really.” He wraps his arms around himself, trying to bring the warmth he knows only you (two) can bring.

Even as you continue to approach him, he denies and denies, “Seriously. It’s perfectly alright!”

It isn’t, though. He’s painfully aware of that.

Well, he doesn’t have to be for long, and it's a good thing this time. Soon, your arms find themselves around him. Two pairs of arms, nice and muscled and perfectly satiating, around his lanky body. Warmth, is all that’s in his mind; a nice warmth not even the comfiest of blankets could bring.

A warmth only you, his favorite lover—don’t tell the other one, and that councilor he calls a boyfriend, can bring. He’s content in it.

“Was it so hard to admit you wanted some love, loverboy?” Jayce whispers into his ear.

“Yes,” He can tell it’s not the answer he expects, “sometimes it is.”

“Was the witty answer really necessary?” Jayce asks, pulling back so that Viktor can see his disappointed look. He can’t be too angry at him though, not that he was in the first place. Who could get mad at Viktor? He was too pretty and lovely and cozy to be mad at. To be mad for him, though? That was perfectly justified.

You answer for Viktor, “Yes. It’s fun to get on your nerves, love.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really.”

He laughs, “Not even a ‘sometimes’ to add onto that?” You knew what he wanted you to say: ‘It’s fun to get on your nerves, sometimes. Most of the time I merely praise the very floor you stand on, I hope that’s enough for you, oh councilor.’ So you say the opposite.

“No.” If you could speak with heart drawings, Jayce thinks you would finish that sentence with a heart.

“Fine.” He rolls his eyes.

Viktor pulls you into a sweet, morning kiss. Jayce fake gags at it, but with your attention being on each other, neither of you see it. He sighs dramatically, fortunately forcing your attention on him “I have not had a morning kiss.”

Viktor huffs out of his nose and rolls his eyes, “Okay, okay.” He begins to lean forward, and as Jayce closes his eyes to enjoy the moment, he suddenly parts and the kiss never comes, “Wait, are those pancakes I smell?”

The councilor groans, which you both ignore, “Yeah, actually. Oh, those must be getting cold, huh?”

“I’ll bet they are!”

“You two are insufferable.”

#🌸 // success!#viktor x reader #jayce x reader #viktor x gn reader #jayce x gn reader #league of legends x reader #league of legends x gn reader #arcane x reader #arcane x gn reader #🎟 // league of legends #🎫 // viktor #🎫 // jayce #jayce x reader x viktor #viktor x reader x jayce

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fabricated-misslieness · 2 years

Text

pairing: akshan x male reader

req: no | wc: 1.59k | cw: sad but not harsh angst, bit suggestive if you squint, hopeful ending

summary: You didn’t want to become another Akshan, and you definitely didn’t want to become a Shadya.

a/n: aight so reader is the jeweler from the spice market in Akshan’s story, “In Search of Things Lost”. Initially I began to write this as gn reader, but then I reread a part of the story and realized the jeweler wasn’t left ambiguous enough for it. (He is mentioned to be a man)

When Akshan wakes up, he’s surprised to find you’re not laying down next to him on these soft silk sheets of yours. If he were in your shoes, he would never leave this bed. He often joked about it being the only reason he’s interested in you, which of course is not the truth in the slightest. You both know every reason he likes you, every single one, although a few might have slipped your mind.

Akshan finds it important to let you know how much he loves you and why he does so every time he thinks of a new reason.

Among his favorites were:

The bed.

Your lips.

The everlasting beauty of your eyes under the serene blue light of the moon and the stars of the night sky, a view that is ingrained in his head.

and your generosity.

Oh, here’s another one he’s just thought of. You let him stay whenever he wants! Where are you, anyway? First things first is telling you this new reason.

“Ah.” Er, no, first things first was getting some suitable clothes.

Akshan is concentrated on finding his clothes, which doesn’t take much time because he doesn’t own a shirt. This leads him to not notice many things around him, one of them being a distinct lack of your personal items, a weird thing because this is your bedroom. He only notices this when he steps out of the room.

“Hm,” Your books are missing from the shelf on the left, he notes. Then he turns his head to the rest of the room, which is even emptier. “My love?” He calls out, a panic beginning to rise in his stomach, “Were you beginning to move out and didn’t tell me?”

He doesn’t hear you cooking in the kitchen, nor does he hear you in the shower. “Or have you moved out already and left me behind?”

Was he a fool to be calling out for you? Perhaps. Hey, maybe you were still swaddled up in the blankets of your comfortable bed, a bed that was practically calling for him to come back. This was all probably some terrifying nightmare. If he slept in the dream bed, he would wake up in the real one, no?

Akshan continues searching, until he comes across the entrance. He gulps when he sees a pile of packed boxes. “My love? I’ve… found another reason I love you..?”

There's chatter by the front door. Before he knows it, you’re closing the door behind you with a deep sigh and a curse muttered under your breath. “My love?” He calls again, hopefully for the last time. He hopes he’s not some sort of invisible ghost in this dream and that he’s not dreaming of a moment where he’s dead and you’re moving away from the place full of your best memories.

“Akshan!” You exclaim, eyes widening upon the sight of him.

Oh great, he’s alive. “Is something wrong?”

Instead of answering outright, you begin with the words, “I’ve got something to tell you.”

Oh no, he says in his mind. Something is definitely wrong. “Well, first, I’ve found another reason I love you.” The both of you can only offer a small smile. “You let me stay here whenever I want.” He takes your hand in his and you allow it, awkwardly at that. Or was it nervously? He can only tell it’s something of a negative emotion. “Speaking of which, I sense I’m not going to be staying here any longer?”

“Your senses would be correct.” You furrow your eyebrows as you think of the nicest way to break the news, but you can’t seem to find any sugar to coat your words. “I’m… moving out, away.”

His breathing pauses, for a moment, as he processes this information. “You’re moving out?” He sputters as he regains his breath. He looks like a lost puppy like this, and you hate yourself for making the comparison. “I-I don’t understand why.” Just like the numerous reasons why he loves you, he begins to recite questions, potential reasons why you’re moving out turned into questions.

“Akshan.” He doesn’t stop when you call. “Akshan?” Nor does he seem to plan to anytime soon. “My love.” The pet name seems to wake him up from his rambling.

“Yes?”

“When a waif came to me the other day, brandishing five pearl bracelets similar to your mentor's, I was… afraid. When I checked the band to find a sentinel motif, that fear only rose.” You’re looking away from him now, and just like your story, Akshan finds the fear and panic in his stomach rising to his chest. “They were Shadya’s bracelets, all five. I knew, immediately, that you’d given them to her. Of all people, a waif wouldn’t have had their hands on them; a warlord would be more suiting. I’ve no doubt you dealt with them already. ‘Give all and all may live’ is the first inscription I read.”

“Is this not a good thing?” He cuts you off, “Giving those bracelets away… it restored my memory of Shadya.”

“Then it is a good thing, but this is not what I’m talking about. The bracelets made me think, gave me a realization if you will.” You sigh, here comes the hard part, “What if I become another Shadya?”

“I don’t… understand.”

You knew he wouldn’t. “You’ve become a hard thorn in the warlords’ roses. One measly guard has already seen your face-”

“A careless mistake!”

“Which leads to a consequence. Akshan, it is only a matter of time they find out who you are. I’ve already been seen out with you, as well. What I’m saying is-”

“You don’t want to become another Shadya.” He knows what you mean now. What if you became another person he’s getting his revenge for? You mean a lot to him, so did Shadya, and he’s trying to find her killers. If you became another Shadya… you would be gone too. “You won’t be another Shadya. That, I promise. I’ll protect you!”

“And when you’re off handling warlords all on your own? What will happen to me then?”

It was tough for people like you and under to gain security in Marwi, and security that would go unquestioned at that. Besides, there was no one as strong as an assassin like Akshan. If they sent someone after you, Akshan wouldn’t only be going for warlords, but he’d be trying to find assassins too. Assassins and him held common skills, of which stealth stands out. He wouldn’t be able to track them down as well as sleeping warlords in their luxurious bedrooms.

Akshan has no answer to your question, so you continue, “I don’t want to become another you, Akshan.”

He looks mildly offended at that, “What is it that you mean?” He asks, even though he knows what you meant to say, he just wishes the answer in his mind were different from yours.

“Someone seeking revenge on an entity they don’t even know, killing and fighting every warlord they find suspicious, only to find that they are not the one. Akshan, I don’t want to pick up the Absolver and decide who lives and who dies… and if I can’t find the Absolver? You’d be gone to me, forever.”

His hold on your hand tightens, his gaze turns downcast, and his lips turn to a thin line. “You’re right.” He laughs to himself, “You’re always right. You know, that's another thing I love about you."

The hand upon his cheek is soothing, tilting his head up so his eyes can stare into yours, although your eyes not as soothing as he'd like.

He can't help but feel defeated and bitter, even though he knows you're right. He wants you to be so wrong, he wants to shout into the sky at the highest peak of a mountain that he wishes you were wrong, and he wants that wish to be fulfilled. But he can't have everything.

"I just want to know… am I being selfish?"

"No, no," He scrambles to reassure you, "it's all very warranted. I mean, I wouldn't want to die either." He chuckles, even if he can't find humor. "I would do the same if… I was in your shoes. I'm not even sure if I would tell my Akshan that I'm leaving. I'm just lucky you have."

There's a pause as Akshan takes the time to breathe and calm himself down.

"I'll come back to you when the job is done." He takes the hand you placed on his cheek in his and brings it to his lips, "I'll come back with Shadya at my side, and you'll see her alive and well. We won't have to remember her by charcoal painting lacking resemblance to her. I'll come running into your arms and I'll say I missed you and…"

"And?"

"I'll kiss you, just like this."

He brings your hands to the side and kisses you on the lips, strong and passionate and full of love that you feel he's harbored over the time he's been deprived from you, even when such time has not come to exist just yet.

"And I'll recite every single reason I love you, from the one you heard the very first time I professed my love to you, to the ones I've compiled over our time apart."

"That's what I'd hoped for."

Give all and all may live… Let you go and you may survive. The memory of Shadya shines brighter in his mind.

#akshan x reader #akshan x male reader #league of legends x reader #league of legends x male reader #league of legends fanfic #lol x reader #lol x male reader #🎟 // league of legends #🎫 // akshan #🌂 // failure

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fabricated-misslieness · 2 years

Text

pairing: (Arcane ep 4) viktor x gn reader

req: no | wc: 735

summary: Two people from undercity in topside.

a/n: what the heck do you call people from undercity like i can’t recall what they were called

“We should slow dance.”

Viktor perks up, raising an eyebrow. He’s further confused when you don’t back down, so he makes a show of reminding you of his condition. He shrugs his right shoulder and waves his right hand as best he can, which sure as hell catches your attention.

You roll your eyes and make your way over to the record player, “What’s stopping the greatest Piltover scientist from finding another solution?”

“You’re flattering my ego far too much.” He’s as humble as ever, “I work with Jayce, we’re partners, we created Hextech together. Then there’s professor Heimerdinger, who’s-”

“I know,” Viktor hears you put a record on the platter, “But you’ve got to accept compliments sometimes, no?”

He shakes his bashfully, “No, no. I’ll take a compliment when I-” He stops in his tracks when he feels you pick up his hand. He stares at you, your gorgeous smile and your awaiting eyes, and smiles himself. “So you’ve come up with a solution of your own?”

“Indeed.”

He has to admit he’s quite disappointed when you let go of his hand, and when you begin to twirl around him, he desperately tries to catch up, but there’s the lifting of his cane and then the slight turning, and- “I don’t know if this is the best solution.”

Then the music kicks in.

Each time he finds his eyes on yours, it’s almost as if time’s stopped, except the music still runs, and so do you. It’s a classical piece, one the both of you are fond of.

“Catch up.” You laugh.

“I can’t.” And even if he can’t, he still tries with an amused laugh.

His movement is counterclockwise, yours is the opposite. However, he can’t stop to match you now, in fact, he doesn’t think of it. All he thinks of, right now, isn’t even his hextech or himself, but you. Turning and turning to see you, just a glimpse of you.

When his eyes meet yours again, he takes your hand. You stop in your tracks, right in front of him, and he smiles wide. “Let me spin you.”

It’s your turn to raise a brow, “We’ve never taken dance lessons, I know that’s for sure. What if I-”

Viktor’s face drops, “Hold on,” He, unfortunately, lets go of your hand to hold his forehead, “I’m dizzy.”

You can’t help but chuckle, “Sorry-”

“No,” Though he may feel rather sick at the moment, he reassures you, “it’s fine. I’m alright.”

You begin to ramble on and on about why it’s not fine. What if he’d lost his bearings, fallen over; what if he’d done this and that, what if, what if, what if…

When he’s finally regained himself, he takes your cheek then pulls you to him. Your lips meet briefly, too brief for your satisfaction, but you’re still rather stunned by the action. He presses his forehead against yours and all you can look at is his cheeky smile.

“What was that for?”

Viktor can tell you’re quite breathless. “To shut you up.”

You stay like that, for a while, in a slight embrace, looking into his beautiful eyes. Then you hear the sound of wood hitting the floor. He hides his head in the crook of your neck and wraps his other arm around you in a pleasant way, which is confirmation enough of the hypothesis within your mind. Looking down at his cane, abandoned on the floor, is only further reassurance.

He’s put all his weight on you, relying on you to keep him up. This is not the first time he’s done this, yet you cherish it all the same.

“Two people from undercity in topside… If someone told me I’d be here, a co-inventor to scientific magic, co-inventor to such an important thing like Hextech, I’d say they were bluffing. If someone told me I’d be held by the love of my life in an apartment above ground, covered in windows with which you can look up at the sky and the nicest of sunsets, listening to music I couldn’t have dreamed of hearing in undercity… If someone told me I’d-”

You bring him into a kiss, and this time it’s his turn to ask, “What was that for?”

So you reply the same, “To shut you up.” He rolls his eyes. “Let’s live in the moment rather than dissect it.”

He can’t argue with that.

#viktor x reader #viktor x gn reader #arcane viktor x reader #arcane viktor x gn reader #league of legends fanfiction #league of legends x reader #league of legends x gn reader #lol this is probably gonna reach the yoi fandom #🌸 // success!#🎟 // league of legends #🎫 // viktor

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fabricated-misslieness · 2 years

Text

pairing: akshan x gn reader

req: yes | wc: 1k | modern au

anon: can I ask for a rlly fluffy scenario with him and a gender neutral reader?

a/n: used prompts 7, 8 and 11 from this list.

Akshan seems to be fresh out the gym when he’s at your door. He’s wearing his usual gymwear, a tank top –you think he’d much rather be topless– shorts, athletic shoes… There’s a smile on his face, and sweat too.

“Hey,” He greets, breathlessly. “H-How are you?”

“Good.” As happy as you are to see him, you can’t help but be curious. “Why are you here?”

“Can’t I give you a surprise visit?” He leans his body against the doorframe, sweeping his long silky hair past his shoulder and giving you a smolder (that totally doesn’t look silly on him).

“You can, yes, but you look breathless.”

“Really?”

“No- I mean, yes you are,” Akshan laughs and wiggles his eyebrows at you, which you ignore and continue on, “but I didn’t mean it in that way.”

“Mkay, sure.” He says sarcastically, “Well, I was um, at the gym, yeah. Then I overheard some people talking about a festival and they mentioned fireworks! The festival’s about some foreign holiday or something, not my culture, but I’m sure they wouldn’t mind people coming over for the fireworks.”

“So you ran all the way over to tell me this?”

“Mhm.”

“And you want to crash someone’s party to see fireworks?”

He wanted to do just that. Those people weren’t quite open to it, as you expected, and it sort of crashed Akshan’s plans and hopes. Let’s just say he wasn’t all that happy about it.

He wore a pout on his face as you guided him back to your home. Normally holding your hand helped cheer his mood, but it didn’t now, which seemed to baffle even him. His gaze is downcast, on the ground, like a puppy with its tail between its legs.

“Akshan?”

“Yes?”

“It’s alright. It’s just fireworks, and no matter how pretty they are, you are prettier.” He only huffs out a pitiful laugh in return. You clear your throat awkwardly, “I thought that would work, to be honest. Well… we’ll watch a movie, or something.”

“Sounds good.” He offers the best smile he can, “You know, fireworks remind me of you. That's why I’m so upset.”

“They do?”

“Yeah. You remember our first date, right?” Of course you did. How could you forget? “I loved that date, the picnic, the view we had... Those fireworks were amazing. You called it a coincidence, I called it the universe paying tribute to us and a good omen. Considering how our relationship’s gone, it was a good omen. But, I have something to-”

“Wait.” You point forward, and Akshan follows your gaze.

A playground, within perfect viewing distance of that festival. It seems like the universe’s got another tribute to you.

He laughs, of course there’s a playground here.

You both take a seat on the rusting playground swings next to each other. It’s a bummer that cities always made swings for kids and never for adults, for you had to tuck your legs up too high to swing.

He watches the sky as the sun sets, blue fading to lilac and red and orange. Usually he’d be watching the sky attentively, especially because the sun was setting, but he seemed excited now. He was waiting for nighttime, you’re sure, swinging lightly as best he can.

“My friends get annoyed about how much I talk about you sometimes.”

You snicker, “Is that so?”

“Can’t blame them, to be honest. The only thing I can blame is you for being so interesting, my love.” You roll your eyes at him. He only laughs in return. “Anyway… about that thing I had to tell you, before we spotted this playground.”

“Mhm?”

He turns to you, smile on his handsome face, hand reaching out between the creaking swings and clutching yours, eyes filled with the gentleness of admiring your loved one.

“I wasn’t watching the fireworks that day on our first date. I was watching you.” This comes to you as a surprise. Akshan often speaks of that date as heavenly, because of the beauty of those fireworks and their multitude in color. “I couldn’t help it. The shining of the lights cast a glow over your skin. It was pleasant to see you, much more than the lights themselves.”

Speaking of which, the sky lights up in bright colors. They’re setting off the fireworks.

For a moment, you watch them, seeing different designs and different colors, the vast area of the night sky that it lights up and covers… and then you turn to him.

He watches you, just like last time, and you watch him.

It was true, what he’d said, about the lights and their glow on his skin. Flashing reds, blues, greens, all vibrant and all beautiful, enhanced by the view you had of him. You notice something else as you watch him, which is a hard thing to do with the beauty he holds; he’s cold, obviously, with his sleeveless top. It was silly of him to decide to come out here in the night without a jacket.

He watches you as you take off your overcoat and hand it to him. He can barely hear you over the booming of the fireworks, but he can just barely make out a few of your words, “Cold…here…my coat.”

Akshan doesn’t take your coat, he takes your hand instead, and he stands, bringing you up with him.

There’s a bench off to the side, still with the perfect view, not that that’s what you were looking for now. He brings you to it, so you can sit together, and drapes your coat around your shoulder, both of your shoulders.

He says something, and you can’t hear it. Even so, you can see what he says. It’s painted all over the movement of his lips.

“I love you.”

You bring him into a kiss, your hand on his cold cheek, and even through your closed eyelids, you can see the fireworks of the sky.

Fireworks. They reminded you of each other.

“I love you too.”

#akshan x reader #akshan x gn reader #league of legends x reader #league of legends x gn reader #🌸 // success!#🎟 // league of legends #🎫 // akshan

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