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the-insomniac-emporium · 2 years

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Tell Me Something I Don't Know (Arcane Characters/Reader, pt. 2)

Ayyye, finally finished the next round of these! Just some short scenes featuring one of my favorite dialogue tropes, wherein character A jokingly says "tell me something I don't know", only for character B to reply with something cute/sincere.

Featuring: Silco, Viktor, Grayson, and Ekko Genre: Fluff with a couple drops of angst (mainly in Viktor's section, sorry) Warnings: Ekko's section involves treating (mild) injuries, including the use of an alcohol wipe, but nothing is described in major detail. Very mild stuff, especially for my blog Notes: Gender neutral reader, Ekko's section can probably be interpreted as either platonic or romantic (there's love there, for sure, but there's no established relationship)

Silco

His mouth is half open, a half second away from calling for you, when a soft clink accompanies the appearance of a steaming mug on his desk. After all these years, he should not be surprised… and yet he is.

“Here, a fresh cup,” you say, casually, as if you hadn’t just predicted the very thing he had been about to request. Without waiting for any signs of gratitude, you shift around to the other side of Silco’s desk, neatly gathering a few of the day’s documents. “I’ll go ahead and get these to the Barons. Oh, and as a heads up… Dandy stopped by earlier to complain about his share of last week’s raid, so I went ahead and smoothed his ego over a few drinks. We should be fine for now, but the bastard is starting to outgrow his usefulness. Just say the word and I’ll take care of him.”

Of course you would. That was your job, wasn’t it? Taking care of anything Silco needed, taking care of him. There was hardly a day that went by without you dancing around The Last Drop, juggling tasks as you went, never once uttering a single complaint within his earshot. Once, he had asked why you worked so hard. In reply, you had laughed, told him that someone had to, before quietly admitting that Zaun was your home. Though you could not fight for it, you could ease the troubles of those that did.

“Sometimes I don’t know how I would manage without you,” Silco says, voice sweet enough to send a shiver down your spine, but tinged with enough mirth to make you wonder how serious he was. Nonetheless, you send him a smirk over your shoulder.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” you chimed, lingering in the doorway just long enough to catch sight of Silco’s smile. Then you slip out, closing the door behind you. A few seconds pass, silent but for the sound of your retreating footsteps, as your employer takes in the weight of your absence. In his mind’s eye, there is nothing as bright as your grin, even with the glare of neon right outside his window. Another moment passes before he speaks; his voice is tiny, a wretched thing for a man so prideful, so quiet as if he dared not allow himself to hear the words.

“I hope I never learn.”

Viktor

All the footsteps and floorboard creaks in the world could not stir Viktor from his thoughts, not when he was so heavily engrossed in his work, nose practically buried in his notes. Every sound blurs together in his head, a symphony too soft to serve as a distraction. Part of you finds it endearing. Most of you, however, feels a growing sense of impatience. When clearing your throat does nothing to garner your partner’s attention, you resort to other means- albeit less polite ones. Loathe as you are to fully interrupt his work, you take care not to crumple or otherwise dirty any of his papers, but nonetheless allow yourself to sit on the corner of his desk.

Finally he looks up, lips in a soft ‘o’ shape. Confusion lines his expression, but he is quick to offer a small smile, always glad to share in your company. It makes some of your tension fall away… just not enough to undo the building pressure in your mind.

“We were supposed to have lunch together,” you say, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose, already feeling your stress twist into a migraine. Almost immediately Viktor winces, gaze quickly snapping to the clock above his desk. It was a wonder he had one at all, considering how rarely he glanced that way, how little attention he paid to the passing hours. Maybe the clock only served one purpose: To show him just how much time he had spent away from you. When he returns his attention to you, guilt overwhelms his expression.

“I’m sorry, my dear. Sometimes I lose track of time,” Viktor apologizes, slowly, but with genuine regret in his voice. Taking a deep breath, you try to settle your nerves, knowing exactly how important your boyfriend’s work was- both to him, and to the city. Being with him meant occasionally letting your relationship sit on the sidelines, in exchange for being right there when the whole world changed. Most days you didn’t have any doubts about whether or not it would be worth it… you were really trying to make today one of those days.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” you eventually reply, forcing yourself to add a little chuckle for his sake. Without even thinking about it, you shift one of your hands a little bit closer, and feel a rush of joy when Viktor intertwines his fingers with yours.

“I must admit… I worry about how much time I have left,” he whispers, sounding pained, his eyes clenching shut for a moment. When they reopen, he finds you watching him with silent concern. You’ve always known that his health was… less than ideal. More than that, his childhood in the undercity had exposed him to dangerous substances, putting him at an incredibly high risk of getting seriously ill. But you had held onto hope for as long as possible, despite the circles under his eyes getting darker with every passing year. By this point, your hope was akin to a ragged cloth draped over a hole in the dirt, hardly more than a cover for an eyesore.

“Deep breaths, love,” you eventually bring yourself to say, giving your boyfriend your best attempt at a reassuring smile. “Whatever you accomplish with the time you have will be more than enough.” Viktor gives you soft thanks, and gently squeezes your hand. But his thoughts hold themselves in high contrast, loud and impossible to ignore, as he desperately wishes he could share your confidence.

Grayson

Soft jingling stirs you from your sleep, your mind long since memorizing this sweet song, the misshapen melody that played every time your beloved returned home. Although excitement urges you to jump to your feet, you allow yourself a few moments to stretch out and fully wake up. Falling asleep on the couch had not been the brightest idea. Even these few, easy movements make you intensely aware of how stiff your body is, your neck in particular protesting through pain.

On the bright side, however, your smiling face is the first thing Grayson sees when she steps inside. In an instant her expression flips from weary sadness to twinkling delight. With one last stretch, you dispel the last of your residual sleepiness, and rise to greet your wife. As always, she meets you halfway. There’s a tremendous tenderness to her touch, a little tighter than usual, and you know that she must have lost an officer today. Her grief never showed through anger; instead, it showed itself through compassion, commitment to those who remained.

“You didn’t have to stay up for me,” Grayson whispers, still latching onto you like the world is ending. You know, without a doubt, that she knows that you wouldn’t have it any other way- that waiting for her is non negotiable, a part of your routine that you would not willingly give up. In turn, her concern was an equal part of that routine. Tonight, you are eager to brush past this part.

“Mmmm, of course I do, love,” you chime, all the while tugging her by the hand, directing her towards the breakfast nook. Once you’ve herded her into a sitting position, you press a quick kiss to her forehead. Then you’re practically skipping across the room, humming a little under your breath, occasionally glancing back at your smiling wife. For once, there is a slight hesitancy to her expression. Unsure if it was due to your words or whatever happened at work, you hurry up your task, returning with two mugs of iced tea. “Here you go, dear. And for the record… I had to stay up late, because you came home late. You always do.”

To her surprise, there is no bitterness or judgement in your voice. After all of your years together, you knew well enough how important her work was, and had accepted the toll on your relationship. More than that, you had learned to weave around it… even if it meant buying new flavors of tea that worked best served cold.

“I do come home late, don’t I?... Hmm, tell me something I don’t know,” she replies, softly, before taking a sip of her tea. Pausing for effect, you give a short hum, pretending to be deep in thought. After a few moments you lean over to kiss your wife, then eagerly deliver your reply:

“You’re worth the wait.”

Ekko

With victory comes glory, with loss comes the sting of defeat. In this case, loss also comes with the sting of an alcohol wipe against your forehead, as one of the Firelights’ medics does their best to patch up your busted brow. One little slip up had ruined an entire operation. Not yours, of course, but that hardly lessened the guilt. You had been part of a team, and that meant every failure was shared. At least you could draw some comfort from the fact that nobody died.

“Almost done,” the medic assures you, after a particularly painful wipe makes you flinch. They start to apply some gauze, but their movements slow down after a few seconds, gaze shifting to someone behind you. “Checking on your favorite, I assume?” They ask, teasing, but with exhaustion clear in their tone. As tempted as you are to look at whoever just walked in, you stay still long enough for them to finish applying your bandages.

“You know me so well, Talion. Get some rest, I’ll make sure someone keeps an eye on these guys,” the newcomer says, and you turn just in time to see Ekko gesture towards the sleeping bodies of your team members. All three seem to be resting easy, curled up as comfortably as they can at the moment, considering their injuries. The medic gives them a quick once over, doing one last evaluation before making a decision. With a curt nod, they take their leave, making sure to close the door as softly as possible. Once the two of you are alone, Ekko sits down by your side.

A pause fills the room. Heavy, tense, suffocating. You’re sure that he’s mad at you. But then his eyes meet your own, and the tilt of his eyebrows betrays his concern. One of his hands rubs the back of his neck as he seems to contemplate what to say.

“Rough day, huh?... Please tell me you have some good news,” he says, eventually, barely speaking above a whisper. It’s clear the humor in his tone is forced for both of your benefits. Trying to ignore the residual stinging of your wounds, as well as detract from the disappointment of the day’s failure, you reply in kind, albeit a little less forced.

“Good news? Hmm, let me think…” You trail off for a few seconds, pretending to give the question serious thought. “I survived, for starters.” In response, Ekko gives a quiet chuckle, slowly shaking his head.

“Yeah, yeah you did. Maybe tell me something I don’t know?” He’s smiling as he speaks, more than willing to admit his relief at your survival. But considering the rest of your team would be out of commission for at least a few days, and a sizeable shipment of Shimmer was headed for the streets…

“Okay, that’s fair, and valid. Fair and valid. Hmm… I love you?” You offer, dragging the words out, gesturing vaguely with your hands. This only serves to make Ekko roll his eyes (and murmur something that sounds a lot like “I love you too”). “Yeah, figured you already knew that, just wanted to remind you. Also, you know that one dick who works for Silco? Goes by ‘Dilbert’ or ‘Dahlia’ or probably ‘Dandy’? We absolutely kicked his ass, so that’s pretty cool.”

Now that is exactly the kind of thing he was hoping you’d say. Nobody likes Dandy.

#silco x reader #viktor x reader #arcane viktor x reader #grayson x reader #ekko x reader #arcane imagines #reader insert #dandy is a recurring character for undisclosed reasons :)

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